tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10910720879503629232011-09-01T00:49:46.533-07:00Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.comBlogger231100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-53251228148841109522009-09-27T18:07:00.000-07:002009-09-27T19:29:41.333-07:00

Alright people, here's the post where I admit to being a terrible blogger with all the updating in fits and starts, three updates in one week and then one in six months. I've been restrained by a variety of piss poor excuses: the creativity-draining administrative career, finding a new religion (Australian Rules Football, can I get an Amen brother?) and the giant hurdle that's been stuffing me

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-32226073418368163152009-05-12T15:58:00.000-07:002009-05-12T21:40:10.155-07:00

The Empress Hotel.There ain't a great deal to Little Rock if you want to know the truth. It's a real Deep South kind of town - kind of quiet, kind of old-fashioned and hotter than hell in the dead of Summer. At this stage of my trip, I was begging for an opportunity to do absolutely nothing and I really found that opportunity in Little Rock. I only bothered to travel here for two reasons: one

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-44464355362935580842009-03-30T15:07:00.000-07:002009-03-31T01:30:45.850-07:00

It's so special that I'm not going to put this NFTR entry in its customary italics. My new Melbournian bus buddy (I've completely forgotten his name, in fact I forgot it the moment we got off the bus, how slack is that? It was some typical white boy name - Andrew? Matt? Oh goddamnit.) and I went roaring off into the New Mexican wasteland. At this stage in my trip, I was only too grateful for

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-10123821059969338792009-02-20T16:10:00.000-08:002009-02-19T21:44:20.852-08:00

Roswell in a nutshell.I was on the bus from Albuquerque after narrowly avoiding an abduction by my cabbie, heading to the place where the Dusty Southwest meets the Dirty South. I believe that the true South begins on Interstate 380 in New Mexico. Any place south of Soccorro in New Mexico or Arizona is cause for concern, although once you've travelled as far east as the Texas/Oklahoma border, it

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-13270807808013817342009-02-20T01:25:00.000-08:002009-02-19T21:30:19.755-08:00

Outside a Canyon Rd Gallery, Santa Fe.Upon my arrival in Santa Fe, I found I had three major problems:#1 - The Greyhound station in Santa Fe is a tiny shed in the middle of the arse end of nowhere.#2 - There were no transport options waiting outside the terminal, as it was around 10 p.m. at night and well, you've already read #1.#3 - I did not know any cab numbers.Shit.Thankfully, Santa Fe is a

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-32665522337574778772009-02-19T16:27:00.000-08:002009-02-19T21:30:57.922-08:00

The 300 year old San Felipe de Neri Cathedral, Albuquerque.I'm back folks. Unexpected requests for me to resume writing my Great American Saga gave me the much needed kick up the arse. I aim to be writing about Canada by the time I'm 25. Now, where were we?I spent most of my time in New Mexico sick as a second stage syphilitic skank in the noonday sun thanks to the torments of Las Vegas, and

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-74247276048710229722008-09-30T22:25:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:42:47.366-08:00

There's a woman and her two brats in front of me in the queue at the gates to get the hell out of Hell. The daughter is fairly undisturbed, despite the fact that she is toddler age, but I can already tell that the son is going to make my next twelve hours on the bus my penance for not giving in to the various temptations of Sin City. He will not stop moving around. My patience is wearing

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-59392902412614914332008-08-30T22:22:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:41:55.765-08:00

Isn't Vegas photogenic!?! Mm. Good. Now that I've said something kind and loving and Christian, let's get down to the nasty stuff.Attention: Potential Terrorists (if you're reading this) - stop attacking London, Glasgow & Tanzania and go for Las Vegas instead. You'll be doing myself, God and Darwin a favour by wiping out a huge chunk of stupid from the gene pool.Attention: CIA/ASIO/etc agents

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-63461382882049062002008-03-01T16:35:00.000-08:002009-02-19T21:41:46.229-08:00

If the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, then it is walled with posters for bad conventions. All along Interstate 15 the view out the window is nothing but visual pollution (Lance Burton, one of these days I will hunt you down and take a scythe to your testicles...I had to see reproductions of your bastard, ugly mug no less than seventeen times down that endless stretch of desert and

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-64098333759551651692007-09-17T22:56:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:35:52.972-08:00

I was expecting a lot from San Francisco, having been immersed in its pop culture ever since I was knee high to a grasshopper. At any moment I was expecting to see John Stamos, Bob Saget and the whole Full House gang (except for Joey who, in my universe, died from cancer shortly after the show went off the air) walking around Golden Gate Park holding hands with a miniskirted Margaret Cho and

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-45641411925235822022007-09-17T22:50:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:36:52.954-08:00

I loved the ride from Seattle to Portland. It was short, it was smooth, the people were few and spaced out and we left Seattle and arrived in Portland on schedule. There was no muss and very minimal amounts of fuss. I thought, "How good is this?! Buying a Greyhound Discovery Pass was the greatest idea I've ever had." First impressions last. They're also, more often than not, completely and

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-46146162086098444402007-08-23T16:58:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:34:18.484-08:00

Wave goodbye to living alone, I think we've found our home - Patrick Wolf - The Railway House. Three groins in a fountain...and one girl smirking on a street corner.I came to Portland with three indispensable guides - the Frommer's Guide to Portland, generously donated by Astha, Chuck Palahniuk's Fugitives & Refugees (my favourite author's guided tour of the place he calls home) and Katherine

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-74025314667283252382007-08-08T15:30:00.000-07:002007-08-07T22:31:46.552-07:00

Viva viva viva viva viva Sea-Tac! We've got the best computers and coffee and smack...You know you're off to a good start when, on your very first day in a new country, you stumble across an International Beer Festival and can therefore cure the jetlag with drinking! Welcome, my friends, to Seattle. Condensing my three weeks into one entry may prove to be an impossible feat, but I'll try my

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-67273561421463129212007-07-25T16:00:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:39:00.943-08:00

Well, in those days Mars was just a dreary uninhabitable wasteland, much like Utah...but unlike Utah, it was eventually made liveable. - Professor Farnsworth, Futurama. I've decided this entry is going to be mostly comprised of lists, because I could rant about Utah until the cows come home and if I don't restrict myself somehow, it's going to expand to the point of literary explosion. My old

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-41040785512026549832007-07-16T18:25:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:41:22.087-08:00

I know, I know, technically I travelled to Seattle first but I barely had time to adjust to the time difference, let alone the Jesus Christ Made Seattle Under Protest grid before I was whisked away to the Red States. That and I'm still in Seattle at the moment, so I'd much rather do a write up once I've had the full SeaTac experience (Viva Sea-Tac!).We set off for Utah on the afternoon of the 3rd

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-77956641510354667672007-07-11T21:02:00.000-07:002007-07-10T23:14:50.227-07:00

Flying over the dateline is disorienting. I left Sydney and arrived in San Francisco an hour later. After a thirteen hour flight. Yeah. Needless to say, I didn't know if I was Martha or Arthur for the next couple of days...thank god for the marvellous invention of Nyquil, even if it didn't always stop me waking up at 3 in the morning.I flew Qantas and I have to say, the service is snooty, the

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-79156482823248968862007-07-11T14:02:00.000-07:002007-07-10T21:02:29.053-07:00

In between coast-to-coast trips, I spent most of my remaining weeks in Sydney doing the following: freaking out, planning, working, begging relatives for cash (hi Mum) and occasionally emerging from my stressful cocoon and making the effort to be social. These are the things/places/people I'll actually miss (correction: am missing) in the Harbour City.1. High Tea with my favourite ladies - I

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-58455964141460806122007-07-05T15:27:00.000-07:002007-07-05T14:46:18.903-07:00

For the record, I'm officially in the States and I survived immigration without a single deportation threat. Before I start my America commentary, I felt I should write a longwinded entry or two on how I spent my last weeks in Australia.1. The Hunter Valley. Shiraz grapes growing in the

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-68173362112698145382007-06-25T18:57:00.000-07:002009-02-19T21:42:52.636-08:00

So, my accommodation is almost completely sorted out for my entire U.S.A trip. It's been a long, drawn-out process with moments of panic ("Christ, these crazy Elvis fans book well in advance don't they?"), moments of ecstasy ("That is the most awesome bed and breakfast I've ever seen!") moments of sadness ("Oh crap, it's in Arkansas") and moments...of disbelief.That was in my confirmation email

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-55532322927336068892007-06-21T21:56:00.000-07:002007-06-21T04:49:55.957-07:00

The laziest blogger in history returns with another update about my USA Travels and I'll warn you lot now, it's the bumper edition. My date of departure is arriving at breakneck speed (where the hell did June disappear to? I looked behind the couch and everything, yet just like those free Hoyts movie passes I had, most of the month vanished into thin air) and I'm still not completely sure of what

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-53379680153806040312007-05-18T16:59:00.000-07:002007-05-18T17:24:30.945-07:00

*boom tish* *crickets*I have remade this map so many times I've officially become the Mistress of Microsoft Paint. This is the one true map of the first leg of my journey, the U.S.A tour (I thought I'd get the worst part over and done with first heh heh heh...only joking Milly). I'm surprisingly overexcited about this trip (further details to come in my next posting) because the more I look

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-16625599091299035762007-05-15T18:29:00.000-07:002007-05-16T05:56:30.331-07:00

I'm assuming that the vast majority of my readers are friends of mine (uh, Hi Tim) so most of you can feel free to ignore this post. This post is going up in the unlikely event that I turn into something of a social butterfly/blogwhore/internet phenomenon whilst I'm travelling and people start reading this who have absolutely no idea who I am, or what I do.I'm Sam, as in Samantha. Yes, I am a fan

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1091072087950362923.post-48734830139514693812007-05-14T22:35:00.000-07:002007-05-13T17:41:25.025-07:00

V What we call the beginning is often the end And to make and end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.And every phraseAnd sentence that is right (where every word is at home,Taking its place to support the others,The word neither diffident nor ostentations,An easy commerce of the old and the new,The common word exact without vulgarity,The formal word precise but not pedantic,

Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01339499681437596981noreply@blogger.com1