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So it was about this time that I ventured to the united states, the land of the free. I went with three of my close mates: Rowan Smith (who I work with these days, and those days too), Ryan Martres and my dear friend, Sir Scotty Tappenden (again not really a Sir, but he damn well should be).

We went to LA, Vegas and The big apple (New York). Las Angeles was by far the best city we visited. Although the ask anyone else and their answers will be different; but I really enjoyed my time in LA. Except Hollywood, what a shit-hole place that was. Yet everyone there is so crazy, and I love crazy. Yet not the Melbourne type of crazy; which are just freaky and scare the shit outta you. Alright, so I had a bum pull out a knife on me in LA, and this is what I mean by crazy but not scary crazy. So some homeless dude was talking to himself mumbling, so I asked him how he was getting on; because people that talk to themselves need someone else to talk to, and more importantly listen to them. Well that’s my philosophy anyways.

So instantly I discovered that I couldn’t listen to him, he sounded like a really quiet freight train. So rather than being rude to him, I kept saying ‘yeah’. Which normally works fine, trust me I know; I’ve done it heaps of times. Yet before I knew it, he had a knife out on me. Woahhh hold on nelly. Now what do you say while your shitting yourself? Well keeping a calm look on your face. “Holy shit, come on, just put the knife back in your pocket mate. Noone wants to get hurt here” were my words, and like I said, he put it away. So just like I said before, crazy, but not scary crazy. Like if that happened to you in Melbourne, you’d probably be going home via the hospital.

So after that we went to the adults Disney world; Las Vegas. This is where, besides drinking and jumping off a 110 story high building; I fired a gun, that was reasonably priced. Rather than $120 for just a couple of bullets, which I had fun firing in Hamilton island (a small holiday island off the coast of Australia), but not enough to really get a taste for it. Yet in Vegas $120 got you heaps more bullets, so much so that we got to fire things like automatics and shotguns. So much fun was had that day, Ryan took his shotgun targets home with him, but I didn’t. Probably because I couldn’t hit the thing, but anyways this was the point I decided to go thru all the hoops, and there are heaps of loops in Australia to get your firearms licence.

I only wanted to shoot pieces of paper, I never wanted to shoot anybody or anything. I just really liked the ‘Bang’ factor. That feeling of launching a 140 grain projectile at around 900 feet per second, and the BANG! It gives off, give me the most awesomeness feeling. I don’t know why, I guess it’s the expansion of hot gasses from some kind of powder that drove me too it. All I knew was that it was bloody good fun letting off a few rounds. Even if I couldn’t hit the target, probably not the best if there was a hostage situation. But as I said before, I didn’t want to kill anyone or anything, so I guess that would be a good thing, because even if I wanted to shoot someone, I couldn’t. Bang! Jesus, it’s a lot of fun.

So then we went to the big apple, which I thought, wasn’t so big. Like yeah, the buildings and stuff are big and tall, but because every building is damn high, it didn’t seem too big to me. It was all on a small island that you could walk across in a day. I had visions of new York being this massive place. Yet it wasn’t massive at all, nowhere near as big as LA; you would have to plan like a week longs hike to cross LA. So I thought New York was, interesting, just to give it a little bit of street cred, but all in all, it wasn’t a nice place at all. Besides central park, which was kinda nice really picturesque. It really was a shithole. Although the other guys I was there with disagree with me, but I know what I want, and that’s not it.

So then I came back from America, I think that was about the time, or I might have been somewhere else before this happened so it’s going to be in this book anyways; that I had to rush schnitzel too the vets. Schnitzel is the name of my cat by the way, for those of you who need reminding, which is fine.

So anyway I got home to find dear Mr Schnit acting funny, like sleeping on the tiles underneath the bathroom sink. Not a very warm place, or clean space for that matter. Kittehs normally love clean, warm spaces. So that was out of the ordinary for him. Yet I didn’t think too much about it. I just thought it was a bit weird. Yet by the morning, it was kind of obvious he had something wrong with him. So I put him in the cat carrier box thing and carried him to the vets.

On arrival at the vet, the animal doctor, who I don’t mind paying a whole heap of money for because they deserve it, unlike real human doctors that seem to just charge a lot because that’s what they’ve always done. So doctors (human doctors) always seem to charge a high price to write scripts for the person that comes in to visit them, and even then it’s more talking to the doctor rather than real doctoring. Whereas a vet, not only has to tell what’s wrong with your kitteh, without having the ability to talk to it and ask what’s wrong. They also need to know about all the animals in the animal kingdom. That is pure amazing, so I don’t mind paying heaps for them. Yet a doctor who I have to see every three months, cost’s the same and usually doesn’t know what he’s on about.

The vet on the other hand, only took about 20 seconds to figure out that my cat had bladder stones, and apparently was just about to die; she (the vet) even cancelled her mornings appointments to treat it. The poor thing, and I was completely unaware of it. Yet that was the reason for the cat going under the cold sink on the tiles, because he thought he was about to die. Luckily, the vets (yes he got taken to a vet hospital shortly after his bladder got drained by the first vet) got to him just in time, another few hours and I’d be talking about the tragic loss of my kitteh. Poor schnitta, but after paying about $4000 in hospital fees, and spending about three nights in hospital. The cat was sent home with me. Hooray!

I found out later on that is was from the cat biscuits I was feeding him. No more ‘whiskers’ (the brand of biscuits) for this kitteh. So I should probably at this stage bring up Stella Browne, a really good friend of mine. Because quite frankly, it was her idea to take schnitta to the vet so thank you so much Stella. So Stella is an artist, and I mean that because she writes songs, always draws and generally thinks a lot; a truly beautiful mind.

Actually, before I get to Stella, I wanted to bring up mathematics and my studies into it; from watching more documentaries. Yep, I’ve even ventured into maths once my documentaries on space and physics we’re over. Now I must say, I was never really good at maths either. Matter of fact, I was never good at anything. Great I’d say, but pretty shitty anyone else would say. Maths wasn’t my strong point. However with a calculator, I could do it no problems. I understood the ‘functions’ no problems, but the numbers had me puzzled. Honestly I should of counted little pictures I made in my head, instead of ‘counting’ with numbers like I did at school. I might have had a fighting chance if that was the case, visualizing the answer is key to me. Yet anyway I sucked at maths, and I think I still do. Actually I think is about time to rip the education system a new one. I’ll come back to my maths story during it, promise.