I knew I was somewhere in the Australian Outback, near somewhere called the Nullarbor National Park. I was meant to trek north and find Lake Maurice. That's of course what those bloody idiot producers wanted me to do but what would they know hey? So I went in the opposite direction towards the ocean. The last time my producers dropped me into a desert all I could find to eat was ancient camel dung that was fossilised. It was impossible to digest and made my defecating experience later on interesting but painful and intense, like forcing sharp little razor blades through butter. Picture it.
I found out which way the ocean was by using one of my direction-inventing techniques. This one involved doing a break-dance head-spin for seventy-six revolutions and landing in an exactly south direction. Or was it north? Doesn't matter. Remembering how important it is to leave a signal for any rescuers, I made an arrow out of snake-skins and empty Victoria Bitter cans - obviously someone with real class had been camping here. Most likely gypsies. Good of them to leave behind such valuable minerals in easily degradable items such as tin cans. I'm sure mother-nature comes around to their house and defecates on their carpet, so fairs fair.
I had to make sure the arrow wasn't too easy to decipher though, with all the gorillas in the area who would kill me just to steal my ear wax to make soup. So I used my collection of items to create a large perfect circle and placed a trick arrow-head facing the wrong way. It's fantastic mind-blowing ideas like this that'll help keep you alive in the wildnerness chumps.
So off I went, my cameraman trying his best to keep up. At one point he was getting mauled by a ravenous echidna so I came to the rescue and used my extrasensory perception to convince the vicious animal to give Benny a Chinese massage instead. It ended up being more like acupuncture but sometimes transferring thoughts between species is difficult to be precise. Close enough.
Next I was a little bit thirsty and also needed to urinate. Perfect timing. Having used my bottle already to make a rocket to send a note home (which didn't work - apparently goanna saliva isn't explosive anymore) I had to find another way to return the hydrating and tasty liquid to my body. I thought I could just lay down and try to aim the flow in the right direction but from experience that has a low success rate and a lot of wastage. Instead I just cupped my hands and stopped the flow everytime I had filled up. My cameraman did the same although he didn't need to urinate. Sharing's caring.
I knew that we'd need to camp overnight somewhere so I filled up Benny's backpack with the largest rocks I could find to make the walls of our shelter. I then did the same with my own backpack but with light foliage for the roof. We needed to collect these items now as we didn't know what'd be available where we ended up. Benny of course complained but I said if he didn't shut-up I'd use my telepathic powers to send jugular-attacking desert rats his direction. He affectionately told me where to go. What a guy. Yeap top bloke.
It was now getting dark and Benny was having a tantrum like a spoiled toddler walking with his mother down the confectionary aisle. I decided it was probably time to settle down for the night so we made our shelter out of the material. Benny looked at me strangely as we finished up and said - "Um, there's only room for one person in there." Little did he know just how wrong he was. I had planned this all along. Night time in the desert can be so cold your balls retract back inside your abdomen so the best way to keep warm is to share body warmth. Benny then mentioned something about not wanting this to become Brokeback Bazza so he curled up by the fire, which I had started earlier using the sparks from smashing one of his spare video-camera batteries. I can't wait to see Benny's face when he realises how ingenious I was to think of using his supplies like that. He'll be stoked I bet.
I slept like a baby in my shelter. Don't ask me how I ended up spooning Benny, but I think he over-reacted a bit about my morning wood. For goodness sake, he knows I don't swing that way. I've got Sheila back home. Sheila's my girlfriend. She just doesn't know it yet. I'll break the good news to her when the time is right. Top sheila is Sheila. I love to remember our first kiss. I was unconscious at the time as she had just pulled me out of the raging surf one summer day. The waves were a good 6-7 inches when I swam out. Massive. But the silly girl wouldn't take me up on my offer for a date, which I thought was strange seeing as she was the one who kissed me in the first place. I'll never understand the complexities of a woman's psyche.
Anyway, I needed a good night's sleep as I was to get up early and go for a hunt. Bunyips come out only at the break of dawn and the only way to lure them into a trap is to yodel. I've never actually seen on in real life and they're so quick that every photograph I've seen is blurred. Apparently they look a bit like a monkey crossed with Tony Abbot... Hmmm.
At this point in our journey I was hungry enough to eat the dandruff from a gorilla so I needed to find something to eat and fast. The Bunyip hunt proved ungrateful, the bloody thing didn't like my pitch-perfect yodel. In fact all the animals in the area disappeared. So I chose the next best thing. Mud pies. Of course, there was no water around at this stage but plenty of dirt. Our now extra-concentrated urine made the perfect mixer. The pies gave me enough strength to capture and kill the next animal we came across. I am legally not permitted to mention which animal I allegedly killed as it is now extinct. I'll attach a photo of me munging away on the delicious raw bones of the creature. Just keep this picture to yourselves as it could be used as evidence against me.
 | ||
| The best way to eat anything - raw |
Excitedly,
Bazza.
No comments:
Post a Comment