The Pros And Cons Of Lab-Ratism

As previously mentioned, where I currently rest my gluteus maximus is on a swivel chair in a Melbourne pseudo-hopsital. I say 'pseudo', because not only is it not actually a hospital, but if it were I certainly wouldn't be here by choice. But lo and behold, here I am, gulping down eight asthma pills a day almost entirely voluntarily. Of course, as I said almost entirely, there are a few factors that enticed me into these imperviable, Dettol-enriched walls. Do you like lists? You'd better.


Like A Moth To A Flame
Three-and-a-half meals a day. Free.
Free pool. (balls, not water)
Free table tennis.
Free PS3 & XBox (3 games per console).
Free Movies (albeit limited to around 50).
Free TV (6 channels).
Free internet (without which this blog would never have existed).
Approximately 22 hours of freedom per day, therefore:
Plenty of reading time.
Plenty of sleeping time.
No need to move if you so wish.
$4660 for fourteen days of doing essentially nothing.


Naturally the reason I am here is because the pros greatly outweigh the cons. In my opinion anyway. If you feel like disagreeing, then do so in your own humble silence.


Like A Mosquito To Insect Repellent
Two blood tests per day.
Countless blood tests and ECGs on the first and last day.
Only 2 periods of 30 minute walking for the fortnight.
Unknown side-effects.
No drinking.
No fresh air (bar the two opportunities aforementioned).
No caffeine.
No chocolate.
No citrus.
Only allowed to consume water, apart from apple juice at breakfast.
Breakfast at 5:50am.


So there you have it. A million reasons why being a LabRat is a good idea. Although our minority prefers the term "Human Guinea Pig"...

Updates & Downprunes

Now then, I know it's been a good eight months since I last wrote anything, or told an entire group of people what I was doing at the same time but I have been awfully busy, as you should already know if you even had any idea who the Hell I was. This could take a while. So, here goes.

The last time he wrote to anyone was when he returned to Mildura after being well and truely shafted in Perth. Although he may have also let people know that he spent the festive season and the changing of the annual clock in Sydney, the home of such events, he couldn't remember exactly and so felt obliged to tell your narrator to just throw it in on a whim. So there you go.

He had planned, many many months ago, to write about the month he spent in South-East Asia. The format of which was to be a short A-Z of happenings, wittily entitled 'An A-Zia'. This idea, however, was obviously fruitless and yeilded no letters to put upon his neglected blog. Therefore, you shall hear about a few of the events right now- undetailed and half-forgotten.

The boy began his trip in Thailand completely unprepared- no transport or accommodation booked whatsoever. He enjoyed the somewhat easy challenge though and decided to wing most of the journeys. Upon arrival in Bangkok, he set upon a search in vain for long-lost friends. He never found them and instead found his time on Koh Samui and Koh Phangan spent with the burden of the ugliest, most boring Polish girl you could imagine. Now, the boy sees himself as a nice guy, and can normally see the best in most people, but on this occasion he was stuck. After many attempts to lose her, she just kept cropping up. At the full-moon party, he lied about "Just popping to the toilet for a minute", before grabbing the opportunity by the horns and running off to find people with at least a glimmer of excitement in them. (Around this time also, he had a skin-grazing close shave with the Thai police which he somehow managed to get out of, but we won't go into that right now)

Back on the mainland, he met friends and travelled North to Chiang Mai, where he let his inner-tramp run riot. Sleeping on wood, defecating in holes, showering under cold taps and riding elephants. From here, they embarked on a trip to Cambodia. Sight-seeing was obviously a must but it wouldn't have been the same if it wasn't laced with alcohol at the first sight of the night. After the shocking theft of his friend's belongings, firing grenade launchers, and an amazing bomb scare, the boy travelled back to Thailand for his homecoming flight.

Good Ol' Blighty was a welcome relief from almost an entire year of heat for him. He rejoiced in laying his eyes on reliable family and friends, bold-type number plates, snow and dark evenings. However, due to ever-decreasing funds and countless nights catching up with amigos old and new, he found himself slowly drifting into quicksand-like debt.

On his return to Oz, minus the red slippers and lions, he was hoping to start work immediately, to be raking in dollars left, right and centre. But his hope fell on deaf ears. Unemployment along with people who turned out to be amazing drinking buddies, he sank lower and lower into the sand. Just keeping his head above water he participated in JagerSunday after JagerSunday after Sangria Friday and so on. The money was going out at twice the rate it was coming in. Mornings spent picking grapes and figs offered little reward and the only time he realised he could stop spending was when the best drinking group in the world dwindled to just a few.

As a result of such self-inflicted fiascos, the boy now find himself in hospital. Fear not, he still has his liver and is free of AIDS- he's just offering his body to the God of science in return for eternal salvation and immortality, to the tune of a sweet $4500 for 15 nights. He spent day upon day being poked and prodded, with ECG stickers almost permanently stuck to his skin. And they weren't, the grabbing on to every chest and leg hair for dear life as they were removed from his temple. A canular stuck in his arm for a whole day was an unwelcome extra limb, but the blood samples which occur several times daily turned out to be a mere annoyance. The rest of his time is spent in bed reading til his eyes fall out, or eating as much crappy healthy food as he can.

Life is okay. Who knows what's coming next?





Oh, and: