From being out on the piss, to going out into the abyss

each morning, i rise, not to the caresses of the rising sun, nor the mellifluous tunes of bob marley, not even to the shrill t-mobile jingle that is my alarm clock, but to the harmoniously dissonant groans and mumbles of jumble that have become a staple in the lexicon that is igorshwinish, a strange dialect of the ancient blitherish-gibberish which has its roots as the oldest spoken language known to (yo)utes, me-ts, and us-tes. it is a tongue whose oral, and fecal history has traveled far and wide, and whose echos have burrowed inextricably into the white porcelain god in each of our homes that each and every one of us pay homage and bow to once, maybe twice, and in these blasphemous australian days, more times than can be counted on head-shoulders-knees-and-toes-knees-and-toes..... jon jacob jingleheimers schmidt, thats my name too

flatulence: (def) the vaporized shit molecules descended down into and out of the gastro-intestinal tract via a duct known as the mouth, which fuels its great ally, the anus, with this flatulence of which we speak, the bellowing tunes that sound from the sweetest of places

so yes, there has been much farting, much discussion of our parental roles, "dropping the kids off at the pool", and there has been record kept in what we like to call our Log Log, or log squared if you will, though usually, these logs of which we speak are not square... in fact, often times, especially after a large indian meal, they have absolutely no shape at all

so there you have it, a taste of the madness of words that has ensued since i have reached australia, to be united with one of my best friends from college who breeds in me, and i in him, the most nonsensical and profuse stream-of-consciousness form of communication there is... from the moment i hurriedly body-checked and backpack-checked all the people on my airport bus out of the way to tackle this igor off his feet, we have chatted like (wo)men in a knitting circle... and often times, it consists of the nothing that i have primed you for at the inception of this post.... the birth of post (oh lord dont let it run away from me again).... we wake each other up like dogs, jumping on top of each others beds and giving one another the "1-2-3 clear!" shock that hospitals use to revive heart-attack patients.... we are like mexican jumping beans, without rhyme or reason bouncing off of walls, constantly brewing some sort of mischeviousness and exploding (both literally and figuratively) when enough pressure has been built up.... and we ahve good conversations too, about books and life, and the attentativeness and epiphanies of observation, about the personal shifts weve watch each other take, and so much more... and it is soooo soo immeasuraable good... and we get giddy like tricycles at the thought of what we are about to do for the next three months together...

so far, we have gone to the horse races, had shopping cart carnage, been in a perpetual search for happy hour, i have fallen into rose bushes and woken up with van gough ear and unexplained injuries, wrestled on the side of the street, contorted a car's rearview mirror into a BEERview mirror, met up with friends and followed them around campus going to free events with bbqs, pretending as though we, like them, are students (which poses a problem if we actually try to interact with anyone), and romped around town looking to buy a car and find our way out of this urban tangle in hopes of tangling ourselves in the bush... and after a series of days that seemed to never end, we plugged back home with success, great success (not just in pooping matters).....

we've bought a ford falcon, 91 station wagon that is a bloody tank.... its sturdy, in good condition, and we bought it for $1750 aussie dollars, in hopes dragging it through the stretches of red desert, rain forest, white sand beaches, and then selling it for more than we paid for, by fabricating the louis voittonomics of inflated prices..... we'll see how that goes... we've been absolutely terrified of the strange beasts that roam this country, and thus, much to the humor of the natives here who find it quite cliche that the americans are looking for a gun, we have been in search of a weapon to defend ourselves iwth... yesterday we came home from the market with a 1 meter axe in our grocery bag....

oh, and more random stretching friendships accross the world, i just spend the evening with asha and ramneek (my brother and sister, and fellow walnutty-ans) out ON THE PISS last night (out on the piss, for those of you who cant decipher this upside down version of english, means going out to bars, and well, you know...) twas wonderful

so, on the the ABYSS.... we're gearing up to go across half or more of australia in our "i-think-i-can van", taking the neccessary precautions, buying the things we need and getting advice from the locals... we leave tomorrow (sat) so i thought i would send a hello and good bye, see you on the flip side of the moon kind of post. out there, its about as barren as the dark side of the moon, so houston, the blog-nog will be put on hold until further notice (two weeks or so)

it is what we do, and to never AXE why....
your muddy muddled ashmud