A character who goes by the moniker "Prof" has recently weighed in on our Waitarere weekend.

Happiness is not bound up in doing for self, he notes.

I want the prof to know that your message has reached the boys. An emergency round table meeting was held last night to discuss our narcissistic ways. Voices were raised, tears were shed. Shock was damn near inconsolable.

Decisions were made. For each novelty mug of wine we drink tonight, $4.50 (NZD) will be donated to the Gay Children's Defence Fund, Dunne's charity of choice.

I know it's a small step, prof, but its a start.

'Atta Boy!

In today's news, Real World New Zealand gets pegged by the blogger crew as the 'Blog of Note' today. Thanks, team!


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Interesting and noteworthy Blogger-powered blogs, compiled by the Blogger Team.
For historical context, see Concerning the Historie and Nature of Blogs of Note.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Real World New Zealand

http://nzboys.blogspot.com/

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We threw a party to celebrate...

Waitarere weekend

To be able to fill leisure intelligently is the last product of civilization, and at present very few people have reached this level.

-Bertrand Russell, Conquest of Happiness



The city grind wore away at the boys, serene Wellington starting to feel like an actual hustle and bustle. Perspective needed to be returned to these working stiffs, these blue collar toastmasters. To the countryside they go.

One hundred clicks up the Kapiti coast lies a sleepy seaside town called Waitarere. No stop signs, let alone stoplights, Waitarere was an isider's tip your correspodent received from Establishment regular Tommy, who used to call it home. Sixty years old and Irish born and raised, Tommy is the regular you love to see pass through the door; always with a smile on his face, quick to bring a genuine one to yours. Tommy enjoys visiting on my sleepy afternoon shifts, talking sex, drinking, traveling, the bar girls, the roommates. If there's a personification of the classic Kiwi adage "Good on ya!", it's Tommy. He felt Waitarere was the remedy. That was good enough for me and the beach house was booked online that evening.


Morgan, Shock, Charlie, and myself made the trek, with travel buddy Irish John in tow. Trainer could not make it, as he was on a North island tour with Maggie, and Dunne could not attend due to nine to five constraints imposed by the New Zealand banking industry. Deliah served us well but broke down literally at the foot of our building upon return. The old girl might need to be put down, but that's a story for another post.

As far as the specifics of weekend activities, I don't think they would surprise too many. Drinking, feasting, muisc, card playing, and world classs lounging dominating the hours. Not to say nothing constructive occured. Shock developed his beer marinade, Mogan and Charlie stumbled upon a 19th century shpwreck, and my man-crush on Barack Obama deepened after reading more on his Chicago beginnings.


Tommy was spot on, as the weekend seemed to be what everybody needed; the tanks have been refilled. At press time, Morgan, Charlie, and myslef regroup at the penhouse sipping cold kiwi ale. Afternoon turns to evening. Clocks have gone back and autumn lies in wait. My work week hours away. Here we go again.

Homemade Postcard

From those of us who haven't written home in a while...

...we'll consider ourselves off the hook for a few more weeks.

It's Late, I'm drjunk, but...

I have to tell some one about this..

So I just spent the last 20 minutes trying to stymie the 'other american" 's attmpet sot follow me home. For those of you who have only recently joined us... i apologoze for leaving you o0ut of the loop, but I' donm;t hve much time before I pass out. So a few of us had a few drinks ast work after work... wjich usually leads to good conversataion. in this case hoxwerer , it lead to the other american provong that not only could she not stay classy....but mayhaps she was never classy to begin with...

Highlughts include...
The state capitol game..

"Delaware? No, that's too hard. ask me another one."
"Illinois? I don't know... Caspar. no wait, that's Wyoming. No, I mean Wisonsin."
"Pennsylvania? Harrisville...??, no wait... I know... It's Jefferson City."

But the quote of the night comes from the folloiwing exchange...

She: "There are really only thrre races in the world. Black., White, and Asian."
Me: "So what do you call South Americans?"
She: "Asians."

Sweet As!

It's time for a little more local culture...and further proof that crossing the International Date Line may have put us a day ahead, but still a decade behind. In this installment, we let a classic kiwi drink showcase classic kiwi fashion. Click Here to begin your education.





Sweet As, Mate! Good On Ya.

Today's episode was brought to you by the letters L & P.