2013: The Year I Earned An Assload Of Cash And Spunked It All Over The World.

If I wrote down everything I’ve done this year, it would fill at LEAST half an A4 piece of paper. So in the spirit of New Year’s reflection, here’s my year in a nutshell.


Wined And Dined


Made New Friends


And also, a big shout out to this guy…


…Who I would like to add was NOT dead.

Momentarily Changed Race



My Immune System Is Against Me.

They say travelling makes or breaks you. Well, my trip definitely broke me before it did anything else. Ten weeks in Thailand, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand and Dubai was a journey of self discovery; and the main discovery was that my body hates me and everything I like eating. As of now, I can no longer consume:

–          Bread

–          Pasta

–          Cake

–          Pastry

–          Beer

–          Crackers

–          Crisps

–          Chips

–          Soup

Basically all the fun foods. I am now that person that I hate in restaurants that asks for all sauces on the side and will only eat the croutons in the salad if they are gluten-free croutons. And y’know what really pisses me off about gluten-free food? You have to pay more for it! A gluten allergy is not a cheap allergy, let me tell you. It’s an allergy for rich people. It’s probably what made King Henry VIII look so fat. Why do I have pay £2.50 extra for my Pizza Express pizza when it’s got less ingredients in than everyone else’s pizza?! Why have I got to pay double for a ham sandwich in Asda that’s like eating a slice of water-logged pig skin between two pieces of cork? I have been robbed of my gluten and I’m giving more money? It makes no sense.

After 3 days of eating absolutely nothing but still looking nine months pregnant, I took a little outing to Byron Bay hospital (because it was free, not because I was being melodramatic) to see if they could make me look less with-child. They could not help. In fact, what they did do was pretty much the opposite of helping.

They made me pee in a polystyrene cup which was then passed around and looked at by everyone in the hospital; not all of them doctors – I’m pretty sure I saw some janitors and receptionists having a good ol’ ganders. I was put in a cubicle next to a large group of ‘ard-looking lads who had been in a punch up, and was asked the following questions:

“Have you been pooing a lot?”

“Have you been farting?”

“You’ve been throwing up everywhere, yes?”

“If I poke your tummy here, do you feel like you need to go for a poo?”

The volume in the ward just did not justify the doctor asking me these questions in such a loud voice. The boys next door had stopped comparing war stories to listen to my tummy trubbz. It was worse than the medical centre in Koh Samui, where the doctor wore socks with sandals and had no teeth. I left with $26 worth of useless medicine and my dignity in a polystyrene cup.

I also found out the gross way that I have some sort of allergy to mosquito bites.



I’m Also Allergic To THE SUN.

ImageHey there, good lookin’

This happened in Phi Phi, Thailand after a looong day sunbathing. Too long, some might say. My friends tried to make me feel better by telling me that it wasn’t that bad, and that if it’s any consolation, I look a little bit like a cat.

Dumbest cat ever.

I’m A Closet Tourist-Photograph Whore.

Here’s a picture of a nice building that I took:


I then took a picture of this building ELEVEN MORE TIMES. ELEVEN PICTURES OF ONE BUILDING. I don’t even know what that building is! As important as you feel it is to take a million pictures of the same thing – just in case you forget what it looks like when you take a couple of steps to the left or whatever – just don’t bother. One is sufficient. Sometimes none is sufficient. I took a picture of this placemat one evening at dinner:


Completely unnecessary picture that says fuck all about my trip. Believe me, no one can be bothered with that. No one wants to sit and look through your placemat pictures. Not even your mum.

I’m Still Terrified Of Everything.

Especially heights. But I did face my fear doing this stupid paraglide. This picture expresses how I feel about altitudes of the high variety:


And so 2013 is over. I’m particularly looking forward to 2014, mostly because I like writing the number 4 (my 3s are abysmal; similar to what how a child would draw a 3 when copying The Magic Pencil for the first time). However, with the cold I have at the moment I will be bringing in the New Year looking less like this…


… And more like this.



See you on the flip side, boners.




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