Australia v's England

I travelled to Australia in 2009 and when I returned I had lost ten years and became 40% more paranoid. I know impressive. I didn't travel around Byron Bay where all the cool kids go. I stayed in small town, collected shells and got watched carefully by a mental boyfriend.

Everyone bangs on about Australia and how it's the quality of life 'Emigrate, it's the quality of life' they say. I agree with Stuart Lee. Its boredom and they're talking Dingo doo doo. It's a massive great journey to the end of the world and I swear you could fall off past Sydney. Whoever or whatever you go there for, has to be special to justify that grim 24hr squashed legs and achy hip journey.

I stayed in Perth, West side, in a hillbilly ghetto, on the edge of an industrial state. Bogans (Aussie term) or wankers I liked to call them, regularly drove past at hideous speeds and it was embarrassing. I lived there. I lived in a massive bungalow, not a proper house they are rare, with my new found mental, his son, a guinea pig, a cat and a dog. By the way, I'm talking about Australia, not America and the dog wasn't a Golden retriever.

I stepped into a world of kids, shells, responsible adults and a family bungalow circa 1950’s. So serious, you could throw up all over the porch and watch it dry in the blistering 35 degrees heat. In fact this sums up my trip to Perth exactly. But instead, I threw up over myself and dried out like a prune for 7 months. Lucky I was damp to begin with. He was well dry.

There was not a great deal to do in this Perth place, other than the obvious. There was a big warehouse in town called Creatures that everyone wanked on about, also the only place you could get a beer where people had both ears stuck on. There were two other places, one of which was my house. I thought I might die there. The other places he would not take me to, in case we bumped into someone he had fucked or was fucking. (I went to those places, they were shit) Plus, this is Perth not Japan. We mostly hung out with the son's friends and parents, basically, anyone house ridden.

In the end, I hung with the two coolest girls there and encouraged them to move in our huge bungalow, they did. There were some decent sorts, but like a good record, hard to find. The others I encountered had weird names like Demelza and were'nt into solidarity? That got on my pink tits, because my girls in London are the shizzle. Anyway, I became a regular in the bric-a-brac scene, which is thriving by the way and really quite good. I was coming home with worrying amounts of 50's furniture, but it gave me something to push around the house. I found a diversion from the boredom and grabbed it with two hands, literally.

My mental boyfriend had a friend who was a chump and a girlfriend way to cool for him. But, they had a baby with the same name as him and she was house bound, like I was. She writes a blog and I know she will come up trumps one day. You can get a girl pregnant and lock her in the house, but you can't keep her down, not if there's a computer near by.

I still can't get my head around their relationship, it baffled me? My boyfriend was good friends with her fiancé, so I presumed he must be a bit of a dick. He bullied her like we're twelve. He was none of the cool things she was.

There are many self righteous wankers in the world; two of them are in Australia. I'm positive there are more. But unfortunately, these both came from the UK. Doesn't everyone though? The British flag has been there since 1788, however, times have not moved much further than circa 1950's. Hence the house wives and why it must of allured me. I love the 50's. My boyfriend and his chump friend moved there, because, it's so conveniently behind the times that they get away with roaming like dingoes and being rude. People are not as bothered to deal with rude. Time dribbles by over there and when I returned to England It was 2020. The adverts on TV still star the shop owners and I'm certain I saw Sally Fletcher, still, in Home and Away. I came back and bought a paper to catch up on what I'd missed. I don't even read The Guardian? That's how bad the withdrawals were.

All Pugwall's Summer fans move to Australia with 'a dream they're going to make it'.

But, incidentally, they didn't.

Love Marmaloid