Day 27 - The Sweet Stuff

Park Art
May 5th, 2015

I’m slipping. I didn’t write this day and now I can’t remember exactly what happened. Gym, sure.. Oh right, it was Tuesday. Tuesday means CHEAP CHICKEN!!! Word around the hostel, see, is that KFC has this deal on Tuesdays. Check it out: $2 for a couple pieces of the good stuff... A friend of a friend told me. I decide that Liz deserves to be cut in on some of this sweet, tender action, and we scheme to get our hands on a bucket of the real deal. But, as you know, things don’t always go according to plan.

"Stand up straight,
whipper snapper!"
First snag: the particular KFC they mentioned, near Sir Daniel Murphy’s fine establishment, is… closed. No worries, Liz is driving and that means we have a little more reach than before. Onward to the land of crispy chicken (that no one should ever, ever eat (but.. c’mon, $2))!!!!

We head on over to a very fine area of town, one the next step away from Perth proper (or whatever you call the actual central city part (Just Perth?)). It’s so very nice, with great houses and delicate neighbourhoods… and the best name ever. The name, dear friends, is Dog Swamp. Wtf. Why on earth would you ever name it Dog Swamp?! Sure, there’s a swamp, but.. really?

Anyway, we get to the KFC and they utterly crush my dreams of cheap chicken. Well, I mean, it’s still alright priced, but.. it’s no $2. *sigh* we get a deal between the two of us and eat a lot of delicious, disgusting chicken. Liz and I talk about her group project where the other members are being dickheads, and how my aunt thinks I’m a stoic because I drink bad coffee on purpose.

Don't want to freeze in these
harsh winters!
She asks if I’d ever been to Hyde park, which I haven’t. The park is pretty nice, all sorts of active people around.. and they have these stations for old people to do really basic exercises. I.. don’t really understand. I mean, sure, it makes some sense for old people to do easier exercises.. but, what? In the park? Alright. It actually feels a bit more like fall here; the leaves are actually on the ground. I joke that they call it Autumn here because nothing actually falls off the trees. Terrible joke, yet I’ve repeated it a couple times, this being the.. fourth. It's almost a dad joke...

Liz leaves me at the drop point, and I walk home, chicken in hand. I had done some fiddling around on, and there are a number of groups that have stuff going on in waterloo Perth. It seems like a good way to meet other sociable people in the area with common interests. It’s global, btw, and for all ages (some groups actually want 40+). Check it out. Great networking, random activities, and you can be a tourist in your own city! Wow! No, I’m not being sponsored.

Racing on the upper body warmup
I text Australian Dean to see what’s going on at the hostel. He invites me over for a chat, which sounds nice. After skyping with my sister and parents, I head on over to ye olde hostel. They said they didn’t know if I got mugged on the way over because I took so long. We talk about this and that, but I mostly listen to their stories and their advice on women. It’s interesting, though I don’t know that it meshes with my own philosophy. They also teach me the following slang:

-Stuffed (all three mean fuc... screwed)
-“Mutton dressed as Lamb” (A cougar, I think)
-Boilers (older women)
-“Give us the drum” (tell us what’s happening)

They turn in around 11ish and I walk on back, pack it in, and dream of Hell’s Kitchen.

Miss Liz presenting Hyde Park!

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