The first thing that happened once I'd walked from the tarmac and through the door into the terminal at Cairns was a young blonde Irisher asked if I'd like to buy her car. Dinner certainly, but not a car.
Of course, if she'd been raven-haired and had lips that were all dark wine and lurid promise then I would have become a car owner again.
I stayed with a Marly mate, Lenny, and met up with two other ex-Marly foreigners; Mads (Tasmanian) and Youcef (Canadian).
Lenny is living a blissful bachelor existence where the milk has made the leap to cheese, and the bedbugs have made the leap from the previous residents to Lenny.
During the week we had the Cairns Film Festival.
They were:
Rocky 2 - shithouse.
OngBak - Impressive. But the girl wins the most annoying and penetrative voice of all film history award.
Pirates of teh Carrybean 3: Cool, but I'm not sure what Chow Yun Fat was doing plotwise. Pretty though.
Up in Cairns I met a bunch of people who have a different way of life. They offered me a place with them. And special footware. And a special one-piece zip up costume ala dodgy James Bond villian type. They initiated me into their special sign language, and then informed me that I could only leave if they paid me money.
I know what you're thinking, but it's not a cult at all!
It's legitimate and non-exploitive. They've shown me things I've never seen before.
"Welcome, brother!"Ok. So, I joined a cult.
See how happy I am with my new friends?
I would be smiling in this photo, but we're not allowed to until after 4pm.
2 comments:
I honestly thought that second-to-last shot was a statue the first couple of times I looked at it. I was trying to figure out why someone wanted a statue of a pair of thumb-wrestlers on the beach...
I always knew you'd join the Bluemen. You'll be chasing down maverick space cowboys and AMD users next.
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