The Bath Marathon

Feburary: April 2008
Written: September 2008

We've all done it, we've all looked in the mirror one day and asked ourselves what were doing with our lives, why we continue to pour ocean amounts of alcohol into us, why we eat so much bad food and then wonder why we cant walk up a hill without getting short of breath. I was living in Bath and one day after a heavy night out I looked in the mirror and asked that questions that I didn’t want a answer to; 'why do I wake up feeling sick every morning' and said that loosely thrown around statement 'I’m never drinking again'. My newfound thoughts were 'my body is a temple, you just don’t want someone to come in and wreck the place'.

I decided to do something about it, I wanted to be healthy and fit again, I wanted to change drinking Bourbon to drinking Juice, substitute eating McDonalds to eating salad and replace driving with walking and maybe even the occasional run.

I opened the yellow pages and found a gym that was close to home, I did some research and started to get excited about the new path of life I was about to take. I arranged a appointment and went in to talk to the Arnold Schwarzenegga look-alike lady behind the desk, she walked me through the locker rooms, the swimming pool and the work out section and asked me if I recognised any of the equipment, I looked around the gym and said I recognised the large televisions and the showers. She didn’t find my joke as funny as I did and I got a little intimidated by her grunt since she could crush me with a single finger so I hurried us back to the desk. I signed all the papers and said to the bear like lady that I'll see her tomorrow then went to get some food for dinner.

For my dinner I brought mixed leafs, cherry tomatoes, fetta cheese, cucumber, Spanish onions, and chicken breast for a nice salad with balsamic dressing and also got a good bottle or red wine since I was only going to have a glass with dinner and then head to bed for a good sleep.

I cooked my yummy dinner and drunk my yummy glass of wine, I wasn’t tired yet and there were yummy people in the hostel drinking and playing cards so I poured another yummy glass of wine and then followed that yummy one with a ferocious speed. Four glasses later my bottle ran out so I went to the bottle shop around the corner to get another bottle or red wine. The bottle shop called Treasures; had a deal on a 2006 Jacobs Creek that if I brought two bottles I would get a third bottle free. I thought about it since I only wanted one bottle and now I was about to buy three, I went with the idea of that I can save what I don’t drink for another night. I took it home and poured my red into my standard sized wine glass, had a few sips and then found frustration at having to pour it so often so I got a bigger glass.

I woke up five hours later to my head filled with the sound of a jackhammer, my head was throbbing, I could only open one eye and when I tried to stand up so I could get water I fell over. I grabbed my bed and finally forced myself to my feet and looked out the window, the council had started roadworks and that jack hammering sound was really a jackhammer. What Luck I thought! Trying to stay standing I realised then that I needed to throw up so I ran to the toilet grabbing every wall and object on the way holding myself up, I got to the familiar porcelain toilet bowl and was struck by a strange sense of de ja’vu.

That day I didn’t go to the gym nor the next day, I had just spent 60 pounds to join and I wasn’t even using it so I had to do something to get me into it. I told some friends that were gym junkies about my lack of dedication to my new chosen path, one friend suggested listening to some Tony Robinson tapes. My friend Mick said 'What if you have something to work for, a goal, will that help?' I said 'what, like the Olympics?'

He laughed as I considered working towards the 2008 Beijing Olympics wondering what sport I could dedicate my life to, to his surprise I quickly Googled it to find the easiest sport I could enter, I couldn’t find one that stood out except for handball.

After a stubborn three hours he finally convinced me that I wouldn’t be able to qualify in any sport for the Olympics that was six months away since people train their whole lives trying to learn and master a sport and still don’t qualify. Eager to get fit I Googled Bath trying to see if their was a local Soccer team I could enter or as the locals call it Football team until I came across the 'Bath Half Marathon' that started in eight weeks. As soon as I saw it I knew that was it, that was what I would work towards, this would be my moment! The Bath Half Marathon is an event held every year and it covers a two-lap 21.1km traffic free course straddling both sides of the River Avon and finishes in the World Heritage City of Bath.

I searched through the website and found a application form so I filled them in on the internet with Dave and we came across a question I didn’t know how to answer, it said 'What’s your track time for 20 miles?’ He was a fellow Australian and we don’t use miles so we were a bit stumped by this question.

Adam; What do you think?

Zac; You could pull it off in 48 minutes I think

Adam; 48 minutes, are you serious?

Zac; Yeah, well you'll work up to it, you need that amount of pressure to keep you at the gym.
I liked his logic and filled in the 48 minutes not really understanding or even considering how long a mile is but I was keen and I wanted to win.

Over the next eight weeks I kept up my same life style of a rockstar except I also went to the gym three times a week, I started to know the names of people working inside and getting to know the names of people who were working out. I was becoming healthier then I had been for years but I was still drinking. When I did go to the gym I could never do a full session, I could never do weights, I would use the little energy I had on cardio being mainly running but my bones always hurt and my body always ached. Apart from the marathon, then only thing that kept me going to the gym was using the sauna afterwards, I loved that little sweat box as my old lifestyle of alcohol abuse still showed through my pores and my lagging eyes.

7 days till D-Day

I went on a strict Pakistani type no alcohol policy and went to the gym every day but I still wasn’t fit enough to complete a full session, I still could only do cardio but I could now run but still struggle full pace for 30 minutes, not the 48 minutes I said I could run. I knew that on the day my adrenalin and determination would make me run faster and longer, I knew I would finish the race, I knew If only I could have dedicated my self towards this I may have come close to winning it, although I now knew that my friend Mick was right that in no way would I ever had been able to qualify in Beijing.

The Day

I woke up after having a very peaceful sleep, the night before I had a lot of pasta trying to make the most of carbohydrates; I drank lots of water and kept a packet of pro-plus caffeine tablets ready for the run. I knew that pro-plus wasn’t illegal in the race, you just couldn’t tell anyone you were on it, as it probably would maybe even a little bit be considered a performance-enhancing drug.

I arrived at the race and went to the registry desk at the start, there were 2000 odd people there getting ready to run, I was pretty confident that I would finish the race of 20 miles but I started to get realistic and realise that I wouldn’t win.

When I signed in they handed me a blue top with a number 1559 label on the front and back, they told me to make my way to the line up as the race would start in 30 minutes. They pointed me in the direction of the stretching tents, I told them that I'll stretch on the street because I don’t want to forget my roots and where I came from.

25 minutes later

A man started trying to arrange everyone over a megaphone, and everyone started to stretch again so I followed them and copied the stretches off the clearly more experience man beside me.

I got a complementary bottle of water and as inconspicuous as I could I took eight pro-plus tablets hoping that would help my endurance being that each tablet is the equivalent caffeine level of a cup of coffee. A man that looked like he had spent $30,000 over a lifetime on his beer gut then grabbed the megaphone; it was completely obvious he wasn’t going to run
Organiser: Ok people, thanks for participating in yet another great Bath marathon. This year we’re hoping to raise one million pounds for charity, this is what this events about, because you have shown up, your already a winner. There will be water stops every mile and a half; the race will start in three minutes. Have a good and safe run, good luck everyone!’

Just as I started to get butterflies a lady wearing a headset and a staff/organisers jacket ran over to me with urgency, she said 'what are you doing here?'

Adam; I’m running, what are you doing here?

Lady; No, your wearing a blue top, didn’t you notice that everyone is wearing orange tops?

Adam; I, arr, umm, kinda never thought about it, why, what does that mean?

Lady; Your one of the elite performers, come with me

Adam; No, NO, NO, I’m not. That’s a mistake, I can assure you I’m not a elite performer

She starts dragging me to the front of the 2000 odd crowd, I hesitated, trying to loosen her grip and get back to the ‘non elite’ orange people. She points and yells trying to be heard over the crowd and I look in the direction of her finger, there I see three people wearing blue tops, one looks allot like Matt Shervinton from Australia and two of them look like there from Kenya. A sudden smile and massive amount of laughter came over me, it all finally clicked in, when I filled in the forms saying I could do 21.1kms in 48 minutes that somehow qualified me to be in the professional group of runners. I was now about to race two Kenyans and a fit as fuck white guy. I wasn’t even sure if I would finish the race and I was now in the elite group.

The lady said we’re about to start, to get ready and then she ran off, the Kenyans looked me up and down and looked at my odd choice of running footwear which were a pair of globes. I could tell by there facial expressions that they didn’t think I would beat them. I was furious that I didn’t pose a challenge to them, I was ready to fight dirty and I wanted to beat the Kenyans.
I had a minute to try and think of some tactics, could I run behind them and kick their feet out from under them, could I leave the track and catch a bus to the end, could I even finish the race?
I knew what I had to do, Fake a winning! I knew that there would be photo's taken the whole way down the first strip, so I figured if I cant win at least make it look like I won. I tried to out pace everyone along the strip, I wanted the Kenyans to say 'Wow, look Chimola, fuck, that white man fast as Leopard' so that when a photo was taken I would be at the front being followed by thousands. I could make it my profile picture on myspace and facebook; I could show my grandkids the photo of when Grandad beat 2000 people in a race.

Are you ready came the call, get set and BANG! I took off of the line, I kept up to the Kenyans for three metres, and then they shot off in front of me. I ran as fast as I could use every bit of energy at the start trying to get a good photo taken, I ran my heart out and I couldn’t pass or even catch up to the Kenyans.

I ran full pace at the start and drew back after five minutes of sprint, I set a good pace and started to fall back through the middle. I was running for an hour until I had chronic heart ache, my lungs burnt with every breath, my legs grew tired with every step and my head throbbed with every jolt of my body, and my lips and mouth became dry. I’ve never hurt so much in my life, I put too much into the first bit that I couldn’t keep a good pace in the last and the middle. I wasn’t fit enough to walk 20 miles and I thought I would be able to run it, I said it and believed it for the first time since the idea, I now thought

‘I wasn’t going to finish the race’.

I wasn’t sensible in my decision of entering the race and not being fully dedicated towards it when there are only a certain amount of places available. People who were more dedicated then me missed out because I entered, although my dilemma of not going to a gym was temporally solved until that day when I never wanted to do another bit of exercise again in my life.
I jogged, stopped, walked and then jogged again until I crossed that line, I did finally make it with a passing time of 6:39:22 for the 20 miles, I wasn’t realistic but rarely am I- I couldn’t have finished that race any faster, I couldn’t have entered the Olympics and I couldn’t have lied about winning a race.

Training for Oktoberfest

Oktoberfest is an international sporting event established to fill a massive demand for a face paced drinking and very challenging sport known as ‘Bingeletics’, It is a sixteen day event held each year in Munich German during late September and running into early October. It is the most famous and prestigious sporting event in Germany with some six million athletes attending every year.

The International Drinking Committee (IDC) was founded in 1817 by six visionary breweries known as the ‘Big Six’, Oktoberfest was born in 1818 on the initiative of a gay German nobleman Luca Heilbronner known simply as Norm. Heilbronner’s bright vision was to bring together young amateur drinking athletes from around the world to drink in one big arena. Oktoberfest started with just one division but in 1936 fourteen new divisions were introduced, it now has eight classes for men and seven for women, all depending on the weight of the individual. The IDC has become governing body of the ‘Oktoberfest Movement’ and leads the way in the complexity of social and binge drinking today. Some people debate whether Heilbronner’s original vision would be recognizable to what we see today. Many believe he would be equally happy along as Heilbronner had a drink while he was seeing it.

Oktoberfest has evolved to such a point that every nation on earth is represented by their athletes, due to the growth and seriousness of Oktoberfest, it has also seen many challenges arise such as political boycotts, terrorism, bribery of officials and the use of performance enhancing drugs.

I have waited all my life to be one of those athletes and I’ve been in heavy training since I was sixteen to fulfil that dream, I often come under a lot of scrutiny about my dedication towards my training and how often I did train. I have many friends that also trained with me in the sport of Bingeletics, some will but many will not be competing with me. I would like to share a quote that I feel represents my willingness and determination toward my training schedule and the drink that helps me train.

“I try to train every day with the same intensity that I need for a match. I expect the same things in practice as I do in a match. That means that even in training, I expect to shoot 20 tens in a row.”

– Beki Snyder, U.S. Olympic Shooter

I have devised a training schedule, an athletic insight and 10 Steps to Becoming an Oktoberfest Athlete for anyone wanting to attend the hard and vicious sport held during September and October.

How to Train Effectively

People in training need to learn to train often and also train well, novice athletes often talk about practicing their sport, serious and committed athletes talk about training. What you do in training dictates what you will do in the competition; this can be the difference between having five beers with your buddies at the pub and drinking a bottle of Scotch. You will have to train yourself so you can drink at a certain level without being compromised; it has to become automatic, instinctive and almost sobering. A beer in Oktoberfest comes in only one-litre sizes; so don’t train on drinking a pint, as this is not sufficient. You will have to teach yourself to learn to ignore all distractions whether they are the roar of the drunken crowd, camera flashbulbs lighting up or an ‘accidental’ spill of a drink. To teach yourself this kind of discipline only the greats know, you will have raise your level of concentration by training in a busy place like a restaurant, nightclub or the popular pub. If you train at home without distractions, it will be hard to stay focused during the match.

A month before hand

Don’t have a day off drinking, this will not help you train better the next day, it will only confuse you body and make you succumb to sickness. Uneducated people believe that if you drink too much alcohol you will get sick, this however is not the case. The educated and sophisticated way to look at alcohol is to think of your body as a laboratory (lab). If a scientist takes out one of your organs they will store them into alcohol to preserve them, your not removing any organs so you have to try to put the alcohol around your organs by drinking. This will give you a longer life and keep your inside’s intact.
Be careful of Jet lag, this sneaks up on competitors every year, you have to acclimatize yourself to the time zones and weather so it doesn’t get the best of you. Some athletes choose to arrive in Germany a week early for the festival to ready their bodies and prepare their mindset to the surroundings.

10 Steps to becoming an Oktoberfest Athlete

1. Assess your physical condition
   The first step is to determine what shape you currently are in, this will help you decide what training plan you will need and how you will go about it. For example- if you are a 30 year old and your favourite activity is lying in bed with a six-pack and a packet of chips, becoming an Oktoberfest Elite Athlete isn’t probably for you. Although if you don’t mind making a few lifestyle changes like changing the six pack to a case and swapping the packet of chips for a kebab there’s a chance you could successfully compete.
   You can get an assessment of you current physical condition by visiting a local pub and talking to one of the bouncers. Bouncers are usually more than happy to help people out, its in their character.
2. Choose a division
   Many athletes make the simple mistake of registering into a weight division on their current weight. This however is a mistake, if you are going to undertake an heavy training program and train with beer then offcourse you will put on weight. Don’t be put off by this, as it is 'welcomed weight'. Throughout training you will progress to a stage that you will now look like a ‘Bingeletic Elite Performer’ and because of your big build people will recognise you as someone who can drink. Looking the part is the first step to sponsership.
3. Find a place to train
   You need to find your spiritual place to train; this may be your local pub or even with friends. Try and convince friends to help you train, an idea to do this is to play a game called Hermit. To play Hermit you will need a multi-bed roomed house and a few participants; every player has to take his/her alcohol into a separate bedroom for one hour with out any distractions, i.e. television, ipods or a big distraction in recent years- sudoko. The aim of the game is to see who can drink the most in the hour and once that hour is up you all rendezvous in the lounge room to see who is the drunkest.
4. Become a member of your local club
   This is a very important step in your pursuit of greatness, your local club will conduct national championships, maintain a national team and support various development programs for young inspired athletes. This is also a great place to meet people with the same ambitions as you.
5. Start Competing
   If you haven’t started competing at a national level, now is the time to start. Your local club will help you do this but be weary as there may be amateurs who think they are at a performance level.
6. Get a Coach
   This step should be undertaken at the same time you start competing, a coach would help you develop and maintain your skills. The best place to look for a coach is your local training facility, the ideal candidate will look like a Bingeletic Elite Performer, he will be the one slouching over the bar, he will not be clean shaven, he will have one, maybe even several ex-wives and he will have kids who he doesn’t keep in contact with. This is perfect for you, this man knows drinking and he will have a lot of time to dedicate towards you and the sport.
7. Visualise your success
   A technique used by top athletes is visualization. According to one golf theory is imagining the perfect golf swing 1,000 times in your mind is actually better practise then swinging a real golf club 10,000 times.
   If you’re a drinker you can play out the entire sequence in you mind. Imagine yourself walking up to the bar; you can see your perfect pint ahead of you, everything’s perfect in it from the cleanness of the glass to the perfect amount of head. It’s glistening. You pick up the one litre pint by the handle and pull it closer to your lips, the crowd wait in anticipation, there is complete silence and then you start to drink it at a ferocious speed. The crowd now gasp, camera flashbulbs are popping everywhere around you as you can now see into the glass and the bottom of it. That glass is now empty, you wipe your forehead with your sweat towel, burp and you pick up the next litre and put it to your lips. The crowd are roaring once again, they chant your name over and over.
   The more detail you can add to your visualizations including any smells, sounds or physical sensations will enviably help you achieve the kind of success you want.
8. Find Financing
   This seems to be the most difficult step of all; if you can find finance you can 100% dedicate yourself toward your training and the competition. To be completely honest I’m still searching for someone to finance my training. I’ve used everything to try to convince people from drawing boards to power point presentations, and still people don’t jump at the chance to finance a young persons dream. If you are female you will have a lot better chance at getting drinks brought for you, be careful with this as some people are wolfs in sheep’s clothing- they may drug you. Although the absolute very worst thing that can come from someone drugging your drink is getting disqualified because you may have performance enhancing drugs in your system. Be careful!
9. Attend the National Championships
   Most National Championships (NC) are very simular to the Oktoberfest but not as big in scale so it will be good practise for you to see other competitors. These occur under different names across the world, In Australia the NC’s are at the Gold Coast during schoolies week, In Scotland they have month long NC’s during the Fringe Festival, Ireland hold a year long NC every year.
10. Attend Oktoberfest- By now you should be an elite performer, be able to outdrink most challenges that do arise. You should be at the top of your game, once you make it to Germany for Oktoberfest you have achieved the dream of a lifetime- enjoy the experience, shout your countries name and GO FOR GOLD!

Dory's 21st

Dory's 21st

Occurred: 24th-08-07
Written: 24th-08-08

Josh aka Snuggles aka Dory aka Whale Tail aka Sheryl aka Little Man, this guy is the type who has so many nick-names when you cant even get one, this guy is the type who if you want to keep getting drunk and he has to work in 5 hours he will stay up and drink. This guy is the type who had the best 21st ever- this is my story from his night.

It came to his attention a few months before his birthday that he had finally saved up $2000 that he really should have put towards a loan repayment. His girlfriend was desperate for them to move into a house together so she wanted him to put it towards a bond and all that other stuff that females see as a necessity rather than a luxury. His close friends however wanted this stocky little champion to put it towards having the best 21st known to man.

So he put it towards a new bed, a lounge set and some new shiny earrings for his girlfriend. Nah only kidding, Dory quickly recruited an eager Chris to plan the party that has become the upmost pinnacle of what a 21st should be.

Now that the ball was rolling there was no way his girlfriend Brooke could stop it, people were going to show up with presents for Dory no matter what. We had won the David vs. Goliath battle against his girlfriend.

Chris being the one who was organising the party asked Dory how much of his savings would he like to spend on the event, Dory being one of the coolest people I’ve ever met proudly and courageously snapped 'All of it!'

They maturely decided that they didn’t want to spend a cent on anything else other than alcohol so they thought that they would hold the event at Chris' dads house. When I say 'Event' it was something more, it was an 'All you can Drink Cocktail night', there were menu's, there were barmen, shots, absinth and even 'Fairy Bread'.

Think of Sizzerler but without the food and rat poison but all the excitement.

I wouldn’t say I got drunk just over served.

The day arrives and I have to work till three in the afternoon, when 3pm finally hit, I was out the door from work, I jumped into my car quicker than the fire Brigade and faster than Batman. On the way I got a series of red lights, I swore at them all but then thought of it as a blessing because now I would have a chance to get changed from my smelly work clothes. I’m vigorously ripping off my chef’s cloths in my car and just as fast putting fresh ones on in a space that’s the size of a cardboard box while still wearing my seat belt. Safety First!

I arrive outside Chris' house and find myself even angrier that I have to park down the street, this quiet street now looks like a used caryard and my normal spot in the driveway is taken.

At 3:10 I find a park a block away inside the RSL Club car park and run to the house not wanting to miss any free Margaritas or Pina Collates, I realise that a small group of eight people have had the same idea as me to arrive Fashionably Early (if there is such a thing) to take advantage of the $2000 of free alcohol on offer.

I get greeted by all of my close friends and told that everyone has been drinking for the last two hours and I would be less of a man if I didn’t try to catch up. They question my sexuality and make jokes about my manhood and Adam being Adam not wanting to be one to disappoint my friends I accept this challenge with urgency and head to the bar.

I swiftly grab two cocktails and head back to the small group to play catch ups, three minutes go by and I’m back at the bar ordering another two cocktails.

At 5pm there are only 10 odd people here as Dory told Everone to show up at 7, but I'm so drunk I’m seeing double, maybe even tipple so I think the parties going great.

It was still daylight so it couldn’t have been later then six but Dory walks around the corner to have a quick chuck, no more than a minute later he is back at the party drinking, celebrating and entertaining everyone.

I notice that the table has fairy bread on it, sick of alcohol but still wanting a contest I challenge everyone to a 'Fairy Bread eating competition', I set the rules and we started the game. The contest was to see who could eat four slices of 'Fairy Bread' the quickest with no drinks. My technique was to act like a duck, I cleverly thought that ducks don’t chew, they only swallow. My throat is bigger then a ducks so I couldn’t foresee any problems. I nearly choked and just about needed the Heimlich’s Maneuver preformed on me (photo below). If you’re wondering; the record was and still is 1.42 seconds held by Ben.

At 9pm more and more people start showing up and there are drinks being carried out on trays, I can remember sitting down and every few minutes a tray of drink would be offered around and every time I would grab three different cocktails. A few minutes later there would be another person walking around with a tray so I would grab another three. I can remember one of my friends (Shell) getting angry with me because I had eight drinks on the go; she thought I looked too sick to drink them. I would like to believe that I proved her wrong.

I couldn’t handle anymore cocktails or shots so I changed to Vodka Redbulls and kept this routine up until 11:00pm when I started to have heart palpitations, being in a suburban neighbourhood we had to move on, everyone decided to move onto the local RSL club a block away, that is also where I parked my car. I grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam from Chris' bar, and walked with the group until my funny little British Friend thought it was a clever idea to run over cars, he would lunge onto the bonnet then take the roof with a massive jump to the ground.

He wasn’t jumping over cars because he had been drinking, he was jumping over cars because he is from Essex, and he would jump from car to car to pavement then from car to car again. I see this and get more excited then a kid going to Disneyland so I follow him. I run up and set a good pace, I take the first car like a breeze, second fine but the third I misjudge my steps and fall flat onto my face. My British friend kept jumping from car to car until we heard a bellowing scream from a mate at the party 'that’s my fucking car, you C*$T!' We stoped after that.

I don’t remember the RSL at all which leads me to believe it was filled with Tequila shots, Poker Machines and one eye open stumbling around while flirting. I can however remember everyone wanting to move on to the next place, a place called Toxic Bar by the locals but called Tonic Bar by the owners.

Tonic is about a 20 minute walk from the RSL and I just want to get there to keep drinking, I go to jump into my car and a sensible friend takes my keys away from me. Determined to get their ASAP I convince a close friend to let me drive his car to Tonic on the main street and promised him I would not crash. He somehow allows me to take his keys and we drive in his car till we notice there is a space right outside the club. Not really thinking clearly I parallel parked in this space and stumbled out drinking my Jim Beam bottle, the bouncers let me in and all I did was listen to shitty techno music and wait at a bar for 10 minutes to get a drink.

The club closes at three so we all have to leave, I stumble down the stairs and the first thing I see is my mate’s car. I try to act sober but in Heinz sight I would be lucky if they thought of me as special, We pile in six people into four seater car and I tell everyone to either 'Click it or Ticket', Safety First right?

We drive away down the main street with some sort of gangster rap playing loudly without a thought of that we should be trying to look inconspicuous. I arrive home and the police follow me into my driveway, I’m certain that there is no way I can get out of this by smooth talking as I cant even talk properly. I get out and meet the police half way in-between our cars, everyone in my car quickly stumbles out and onto my driveway, I start laughing because to me this looked like a clowns car because I thought it was only me and the owner Luke until heaps of people started popping out of the car. I’m not sure if they noticed all the people and chose not to pay attention or just didn’t care.

I’m sure I’m busted and in a fantastic mood so I happily greet them and answer all their questions.

Police: Have you had anything to drink tonight sir?

Adam: Yes, I lost count after 17

Police: Would you mind blowing into this until it beeps for us please?

Adam: No worries

Breathalyser: BEEEEEEEP

Police: Can you accompany us to the station please?

Adam: Sure, but what was my reading?

They wouldn’t tell me my reading but for some reason I thought it would be funny to pretend to run. I was standing there in front of the two men and quickly jumped to the left like I was in a sprint. Then I stopped and said 'hahahahaha, you thought I was going to run, ahahahahahaahah'. They didn’t find it funny, looking back on it; what was the absolute best that could have happened?

Police: Hahaha, Adam, is it Adam, your fantastic. That little run was brilliant

Adam: Haha, thanks, I get that allot but it never gets old

Police: You go upstairs and have yourself a good night sir. Heres some cocaine that we confiscated earlier, its for you.

Adam: Bye Mr Robinson, Bye Mr Edwards. See you next Saturday.

Police: Haha your fantastic, have a good night mate

They took me to the police station and on the way I realised that this police officer was one who provided strippers for a mate’s buck’s party, I don’t know what was the best that could come out of mentioning this to him but I decided to anyway. When I pointed out that I recognised him from that night his partner looked at him and said 'What, you manage strippers?'

I sat in the police station till 5am when they told me they would have to take me to the next town's watch house as I was too drunk to be let go unless I could have a family member pick me up. My dad and his wife were in Fiji at the time so I couldn’t ring them, but I needed to find someone I knew to pick me up. Everyone I knew who I could call at 5am for a favour was at the party until I remembered a cool Mauri guy I had met a few weeks earlier. I tried to call him but the police wouldn’t leave me alone so this was our conversation.

Adam: Hello dad

Narin: Its Narin you fuck.

Adam: Dad, listen to....

Narin: What you talking bout g, its 5am

Adam: Dad, I’m in the cop shop, I got pinched for drink driving, and I need you to pick me up

Narin: Hahahah, you dumb motherfucker. Sorry cuz, I’m in Brissy.

I didn’t think about it till the next day but being someone who is white and tall and my so-called 'dad' being someone short and a Mauri, it really wouldn’t have worked. Bad plan!
Sitting there not wanting to get taken to the next towns watch house I desperately tried to think of someone, I remembered a good friend who works a grave yard shift. Great, he'll be heading to work now, I thought.
I kindly asked/slurred to use the phone again and told them that my older brother would be able to pick me up. This would be my last shot

Adam: Hey Brother, its Adam

Spook: Hey, what do you want?

Adam: I’m in the police station, I got done for D.D.

Spook: ok, I'll be there soon

He asked no questions on the phone, this was clearly an experience man.

Nearly 30 minutes go by and my complete physical opposite shows up pretending to be my brother. My friend Spook has ginger hair and is around 5 foot, I’m 6,2 and have brown hair- I said he was my older brother.

They get his details and I’m now his responsibility for the night, I get outside and see Dory and Chris waiting for me with another bottle of Jim Beam in there hands. Spook only has a two seater Ute so unfortunately they have to walk back to the very spot where I got pinched from, my house.

They give me my bottle of Jim Beam and Spook drives to drop me home, I ask him if he'll take me to Brissy for a big party but he declines. I called him because I knew I could count on him but also because I thought he would be getting up at 5am for work too, it was actually his day off.


Postscript: What I learnt about that day since;

My reading was .208, the legal limit for Australia is .05 and clinically dead is .35

In court, they said that I reversed up a gutter, I drove through a stop sign, I didn’t indicate the right way, I was swerving all over the road and I failed to stop when they sounded there sirens. They said that they drove behind me since Tonic and when I turned off the main street they flashed me and sounded the sirens.

I got a suspended licence for 18 months

I walked with no cloths to the RSL and back

I learnt from photo evidence that I took a shit in the backyard at Chris' house. I still refude this claim. (Photo below)

There was a rumour that I was naked inside the house for a good majority of the party. No one could confirm this though.

When I first arrived at the party my friends said they had been there for a few hours, it turns out they had got there 30 minutes before me and were still on their first drink. My old housemate Scott said 'we told you to play catch ups and you just didn’t stop. We didn’t tell you because we thought it was funny'.

I can't wait till his 40th,

that man knows how to throw a party

but this time I’m catching a taxi.

The Penis Diaries

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

The Penis Diaries

I would like to start this blog by saying that I'm disease free!

Well, in saying that I'm not counting 'Alcoholism' as a disease.

Alcoholism is in fact classified a disease but I've noticed it is the only disease you can have and get yelled at for having.

It all started sitting in a pub in Guernsey with some basketball players I met a week prior, it was a good group of guys to sit and drink with, as I didn't look so lanky for a change. The odd-six beers later (Guinness, of course) and one of the boys is worried his penis is about to fall off after being with a few girls and not gloving up.

Adam: You never wore a hat?

Zach: I did most times but some I didn't

Adam: How could you not! When was the last time you had a cold?

Zach: I have one now.

Adam: Yep, that's AIDS.

Zach: It's just a cold.

Adam: Have you ever been with a guy and not gloved up?

Zach: NO!

Adam: So you've been with a guy but you gloved up?

Zach: NO, I've never been with a guy!

Adam: Hahahahahahahaha

He decides he is going to go to the Doctors office to get a check-up and one of the other basketball guys thinks he might need one too so he signs on. Not wanting to miss an opportunity at a funny story I tag along for the comical value of it. The seedy 'Joseph Frizzle' type coach wants to come as well, even though he has been married for the last 16 years but tries to convince all of us he has never cheated.

So we have three guys keen to find out if their penis is healthy and one who just finds this situation funny. I take the duty to book the appointment; I find a medical practice, give them a call and find difficulty in trying to explain to the lady on the phone that myself and three mates want to come in for a check up together.

The day arrives, and one of the boys pulls out leaving the 47 yr old coach, a guy who is taller than a giraffe and myself. We catch a bus to the medical practice and head to the front desk to let them know that we are here. The lady in her fifties seems mortified and is sure we are a bunch of abnormal homosexuals but we only play on her idiocy and poor judgement skills by acting profoundly gay.

We get called into see the doctor by him saying "Adam, Party of three?" and everyone in the waiting room starts looking at each other and us and making up their senseless opinions of the situation. We explained to the doctor that we all wanted a STD check and we are all very comfortable with each other so we would rather stay in the same room when each other gets checked.

We rock-paper-scissors for who goes first and guess who lost?

Well it wouldn't be a story otherwise would it?

I stand up ready to get my blood test and he tells me to "be a sport and jump onto the bench", I thought it was odd that he didn't want me to sit on a chair for a blood test but hey, he is the doctor.

His next words were

Doc: "here's a towel, take those pants off and wrap this around you".

I laughed it off and kept sitting on the bench thinking he was joking but no, he wasn't, and he then explained to me that the only 100% way to check for AIDS is to stick a metal rod down the hole in my penis. He pulled out the 6 inch metal Q Tip and showed me whilst the other boys start laughing hysterically. They then get up and walk out without saying anything. I can only imagine everyone is the waiting room seeing two guys leaving the doctor nearly rolling around on the floor.

The doctor with a busy day doesn't see the funny side of it, as it is a serious procedure for a serious disease. I sympathized with him but also asked him for just the blood test; he then informs me "because you came in here for a STD check it now becomes law for me to test you. If you do not comply I will have no choice but to call the police and get a court warrant for the test".

HOLY SHIT!

This cannot be happening; I didn't even want this test and now I'm about to have a giant metal traffic pole put down my manhood.

I try to explain to him that I don't have anything, I’m still a virgin and I promise him I'll never have sex but he doesn't believe me and tells me to take off my pants.

"Doctor, you're being unreasonable- it's an out hole, things aren't meant to go down there. It wasn't designed that way!"

We were arguing back and forth like a hot potato for nearly 15 minutes until he picked up his phone and threatened yet again to call the police.

I sat down devastated with my head in my hands nearly about to cry, "Doc, you can't do this to me, there must be another way. Medical Science has come so far, please, please figure something else out".

That was a no-go, I was shaking and distraught, I took a deep breath and sat on the bench naked ready to get a 6inch cold metal rod shoved down my Urethra.

He tells me to stretch out my penis and he starts to insert this rod into a whole that is so small that putting something down it never has occurred to me, nor did I think it would be possible.

That was one of the most painful things I've ever done, I've broken collar bones, snapped my arm, cracked a rib, and coarsely sandpapered my leg but this was too much. Even writing this story is making me feel queasy again.

He pulls this rod out and says "see, now that wasn't that bad, was it?"

When I get out to the waiting room my so-called 'friends' had disappeared, I called them and they were at the pub around the corner. As I was in pain and couldn't walk normal I caught a taxi to the pub that was only 150 metres from the doctors. I staggered in and told my old friends what they had missed out on, they were literally about to piss themself.

I was in disbelief at my stupidity for a few days at what happened, I still can't believe that I went into a doctors surgery to get a STD check that I didn't need nor want with a 47 year old man and a 8ft giant but It took two days to be able to urinate and it not to feel like razor blades.

Since I had the idea of an STD playing over in my mind I started to get more and more paranoid about them, speaking to Chris and hearing him saying "STD's are the modern day souvenirs, don't worry about them", it did make a light of an otherwise awkward situation.

I went back to the doctor's office to get my results and I had to sit in the large waiting room with old magazines, sick kids and watching Dr Phil on the Television- Could it be worst? I sat there for about 10 minutes wondering why doctors call what they do 'practise' till a female doctor came out looking around and said "Adam?"

Eager to find out the news I quickly walked in paranoid about the cough I developed a week ago. I sit down and she loads the file up on the computer, she looks at it and looks at me saying, "so, Adam, How are the lumps coming along?" I sat there with a blank face and looked at her for a minute until she asked me my last name. We established that I was the wrong Adam, in the waiting room there must be two Adams, I quickly walked out of her office and sat back down.

She came back out and called 'Adam' again and this little 8-mile wannabe stood up and walked in. This poor guy had lumps somewhere, I started laughing but then felt some compassion when I realised I'm here to get results for a STD check.

When I finally got called in by a male doctor, he was chewing gum and did the standard 'how has your day been' dialogue when all I want to do is find out if I have ten years to live or not. He then looked at the computer for what seemed like an hour but was more like a minute. He stop chewing his gum like there is something wrong, I freaked out, I was then sure I had something and he said "It's all negative". I always thought that Negative was a bad thing, I was devastated, and so I asked him what I had...

Let this be a lesson to everyone out there-

If it's not on, it's not on

Back From Tartu

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Back from Tartu

Four days ago I took a trip to another town in Estonia for two nights as Chris's brother Joel is setting up a hostel and needed a hand to paint and make new bunk beds. I went along to help as Joel pointed out that my trip was going to be filled with beers and I really should see more of Estonia.
The trip was fun, the drinks were good and we partied hard but the real story begun with my bus trip home.

I was very hung over, I was booked on the 8pm bus back to Tallinn and I had 40 minutes to kill so I took a walk to McDonalds for a greasy burger that some imbred Ghetto bastard that had just been rescued from welfare put together. I spent the whole time eating it contemplating whether this is a smart idea and asking myself the standard questions you ask while eating Maccas, 'Is that spit?', 'Is that even egg?', 'Look at the picture and now look at my burger!'

I did indeed finish my burger and the old fries that are as old as beef jerky but I still felt hung over and lethargic so I went to get a juice from the petrol station next door. Most products in Estonia are packaged with gibberish writing that I can’t read so buying food or drinks becomes more of a lucky dip then a decision. I picked out a little 100ml bottle that had bright colours, an outline of a healthy woman and resembled that of a drink that would make you feel good- so I got two of them!

7:40- I finished both of the yoghurt looking drinks and was quite happy with my purchase, as I really wanted to feel better.

7:50- It hit, my bowels begun to have a burning sensation, my insides felt like they were fighting each other and I had about 3 minutes to get to a toilet before it was all about to come out.

What had happened that I didn't know at the time was the drink that I thought would make me feel better turned out to be a laxative drink that is used to keep you 'regular', that drink mixed with the road kill from McDonalds meant there was about to be a party in my pants and only shit was invited. That was why they also sold them in only 100ml bottles, as that is your recommended daily intake, not 200mls.

7:52- I ran so fast through the bus interchange and finally found a toilet, the toilet consisted of two cubicles, a washbasin, and a lady. Yes, a lady- this lady sits in the toilet and charges you 3 Kroons to use the toilet but you know that feeling when you really really need to release your bladder, then you finally get to a toilet and your brain says to your bladder 'his in- release it!' When that happens you really don’t have time to be giving some old lady 3 Kroons (30 Australian Cents) to use a toilet. I could feel it coming out so I just ran past her, I couldn’t have held on for 10 more seconds so I ran in to the toilet and sat down. The lady started banging on the door and yelling at me in Estonian or Russian or something.

7.53- Done, walked out of the toilet to the bearded lady giving me a death stair and then payed her the 3 Kroons and gave her a 2 Kroon tip for the smell. On my way back to platform one I had the urge again and went to visit the 'dwarf looking' lady again.

7.56- The bus was sitting there and people were getting on so I had to make a decision- do I risk it? With everything inside of me now a part of sewerage I took the chance that it was all over and went onto the extremely crowded bus and sat down in the first available seat so I could be the first one off.

8:03- My stomach was still churning but I felt pretty confident that with a good attitude I could hold off the selfish will of my bowels for the next 2.5 hours and if I didn’t think about it I should be okay.

8:40- It hit again, my stomach was burning and my good attitude turned into an attitude.

9:20- I begun to humm songs like 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' and even breaking the rules of humming by inventing my own unique humms.

9:40- I’m now trying to sleep to keep my mind off of the pain and I start to regret getting on the bus but I realised that when you really need a toilet you keep seeing signs saying 'To Let'.

10:20- I was about to cry, my head was spinning and I was clenching my butt cheeks together so hard that they were starting to cramp. Only ten minutes till I can relax.

10:25- I started to breath really heavily and sway back and forward.

10:27- I’m watching the clock and counting down the minutes till we arrive hoping that we wont get a red light.

10:29- We pull in to the bus interchange, I’m so exited I literally want to cry although I still haven’t made it.

10:32- I run off the bus and don’t even collect my bag from underneath; there’s no time! Look around quickly for a toilet but all I can see is a small pub/bar across the road so I waddle over there as quick as I can and bust through the doors. The lady behind the counter greats me with a smile and I spot a toilet. Quickly waddle over there and sit down, BANG!!! The only visual I can discribe it to is in American Pie when 'Shitbreak' finally gets to a toilet.

10:35- I get my composer together, walk out of the toilet, say bye to the nice lady and skip over to the bus to collect my bag.

I wanted to write this blog as soon as I got home but I couldn’t even think about it, it took me 4 days to finally be able to laugh at the fact that I picked a drink to give me diarrhea, hopped onto a long bus trip and just about shit myself. The gods were with me on that bus trip because that was the scariest and most stressful moment I’ve had for a long time.

My first Absinth Experience

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

My First Absinth Experience...

Holy Fuck!!! What a night, well what I can remember. This crazy night happened in my first week of being in Estonia, I seriously had no idea.

There are some nights that make men, there are some nights that break men and there are some nights that totally fuck men up!

It all started with a lonely me heading out on the town by myself at around 10pm as I had no friends in Estonia except for Chris but he was working and he isn't that cool. I decided to start my night at Chris's intensely white work (Stereo) as I was promised a copious amount of drinks for a very minimal price- if any. After being in there for a short moment Chris asks me what I would like to drink, I cockily and stupidly say anything.

An impressive minute of watching Chris flair and I have a small looking 75ml green drink with which he lights on fire and proceeds to melt a sugar cube over it.

Ha-ha, I thought, this will be easy as it's as small as my left nut and he lit it on fire so the potency had gone.

I didn't ask what it was but I slammed this fluoro green shot and my idea of it being an easy drink were quickly dismissed as it was so potent that my first thought was it was still on fire. Trying to impress- another one, I said, and the barmen start laughing at me. My head didn't realise how strong it was so I took another and another while my liver was crying again and again.

Apparently Estonia doesn't have a 'Responsible Service of Alcohol', I learnt the hard way (THANKS CHRIS)!

Three hours go by with what feels like an hour and against Chris's advice I decide to take a walk to see some of the other clubs in Estonia. I found a little Irish pub where I met a cool little Pakistani guy who didn't speak much English. I was slurring so much that he could talk more England then me.

I talked to him for about an hour and a half but this is one conversation I remember when I first got to the bar

Adam: Hey mate, what's doing? You come here much?

Pakistani: I like it here, but where are the girls my friend, you strong and tall like horse. You get girl for us both.

Adam: Ha-ha, I like you! Let me buy you a drink. What do you do?

Pakistani: I work at a convenience store

Adam: Of course you do

Pakistani: Where are you from my friend

Adam: Australia

Pakistani: Arr, Ricky Ponting.

A few entertaining drinks with him and I thought I would move on to another club. I left my 7-11 friend at the pub and went to another club.

I walked and stumbled for about ten minutes along the cobble stone roads and came across a club that was called 'SoHO' and it looked fancy from the front, it had a nice red-carpeted stairs but didn't look like it had much of a crowd inside. It intrigued me so I took a walk in and got a drink from the bar.

I can remember seeing the barman for the first time and thinking he looked remarkably like the comic book fat guy from the Simpson’s.

Adam: Hey mate, just a bourbon and coke please

Comic book guy: That'll be 150 Kroons ($15 Australian)

Adam: What the fuck! Do I get free refills?!

Comic book guy: No mate, standard price around here

Adam: Worst..Price..Ever!

I sat down and this stunning girl (beer goggles? who knows) came over to me and we started talking, we seemed to be getting along great and I felt like I was on fire as she was laughing at all my jokes, even ones that weren't funny.

From memory I seemed to have blacked out for some time but from what I can remember is waking up and they’re being this same girl dancing and getting naked on top of me.

My first thought was that I had gone home with this girl and I didn't want to seem too drunk and say 'hey, umm, how did we get here and what is your name' so when I realised that she was naked I thought I would try and be smooth and do the same. I pulled down my pants then took off my shirt.

This poor blonde girl started screaming, saying in her best broken English "no, yoou keepa clothed on", so I put my clothes back on, sat down and wondered why we were back at her house but why she didn't want me to get naked. Maybe she was playing 'hard to get' in a strange way, I'm not into games, but okay, I'll play along.

She kept dancing for a few minutes and she said "times up, that's it".

What the Fuck, I thought. What's going on? I was so confused at this point until she walked me out of 'her bedroom' and I saw the same comic book guy at the bar. It finally clicked that this red stared 'quiet' little bar was a strip club, I stood there giggling to myself for a minute at this situation, and then thought about getting another drink but I knew I would be in trouble from the bouncer that was the size of a Mack Truck. I wasn't sure if I had paid for the dance or if Goliath was going to come beat me up, so I did what any uncivilised drunk 21yr old would do- RUN!!!

A drunk me ran out of the dark oak wooden doors, which was probably more like a stumble.

I got home and a worried Chris was there.

I didn't tell Chris or anyone this story for about two weeks. I was too embarrassed, yes even me.

At no point did it seem like I was in a strip club even though a hot girl named Candy came over to me, and I certainly don't remember paying her for a lap dance. Never again will I drink absinth, I didn't see any green fairies but I did enter the very elite group of people who have got naked in front of a stripper.

How many people can say that?

Kicked out of Uni, I don't Even go to Uni!

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Kicked Out of Uni, I don’t even go to Uni!

Adam: "Man, its 3:15pm, what were you doing, I've been waiting out here for the last 45 minutes. Why didn't you come out when I got kicked out?"

Chris: "I had to finish my exam, I didn't want to fail."

Adam: "You didn't want to fail, you're not even in this class. What did you write about anyway?"

Chris: "I wrote about the difficulties of exporting certain franchises, particularly to non English speaking countries and I used Boost juice as an example. (I remember this whole answer because after he said it I made him write it down exactly.) You know... because the Australian franchisee owners didn’t accept certain products, but these same products were either impossible or too expensive to buy in such eastern European countries as Estonia or any of the other Baltic States - Hence the major delays in the exportation of such a valuable franchise.... I also got an extension for some assignment that's apparently due next week. What do you write about?"

Adam: "I wrote a page on whether it's a 'hippopotamus' or just a 'really really cool Potamus'."

Chris: Whether it's a what...

Adam: The Hippo, Whats so 'Hip' about it?

45 minutes earlier

Lecturer: "You, looking at the other students papers, what's your name and come and see me after the exam"

Adam: "Urr, umm, I'm, umm not even in this class!"

I got up off my chair, neatly tucked it in and walked out like I had done nothing worng. I thought Chris would be right out after me.

15 minutes earlier

Lecturer: "Here are your exams; you have 10 minutes perusal time and you have till 3:15 to finish."

That gave us 1.5 hours to complete it, on the cover it explained the subject topic and it was 'International business and marketing.'

10 minutes earlier

Lecturer: "You may start now."

Adam: "Fuck!"

I was so scared, my palms where sweating and my arms where shaking. Didn't want to fail but I knew nothing about international business' or markets so I sat there for a few minutes and came up with an idea about the cool potamus.

7 minutes earlier

Adam: "Haha, I can't believe we have nothing better to do, what's this exam on anyway?"

Chris: "not sure, hopefully its multiple choice"

5 minutes earlier

Adam: "Movies and real life uni aren't really the same, where's Van Wilder, the party fliers and cool stuff? This really isn't as fun as I thought it would be."

Chris: "Let's do an exam."

Adam: "Yeah, sure, Pfft! That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard. Why would we do that?"

2 minutes earlier

Chris: "What's the time?"

Adam: "You asked me that 3 minutes ago!"

3 minutes ago

Chris: "What's the time?

Adam: "Urr, its 1:50pm"

10 minutes earlier

Chris: "That looks fun, let's go in there."

Adam: "I think it's a university but sure."

Chris: "Frat parties!"

The Morning.

Chris had the day off work and I'm unemployed (yes, still! Haha) so we decided to travel to where my dad was born, Bristol. We arrive in Bristol about noonish and walked around for a few hours, look at a few museums, go to a restaurant for lunch followed with a few drinks and we realise Bristol is allot like putting a cucumber up your ass- fun for some people but not my kind of thing. The train back to Bath is a couple of hours away...

Now the story starts.......