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Combo shots showing our coolio room at Funky Green Voyager and how much it sucks to carry these packs about a kilometre to the bus station. It was hot. It was sunny. The packs were heavy. I had a damn tent strapped on and a laptop in. But it built character. Right. Our room was cool. Fenny is a cute supermodel. What else can I say? Here are the last few shots of Funky Green Voyager to show how it was just a cool, nice, simple, clean, good place to stay. And I guess it is worth it to mention once again what a nice contrast it was to Berkenscheit Fucksville in Lake Taupo. Do you get the vague impression I didn't like our Taupo lodging or something? If you do get that vague feeling, you're starting to get the idea. Rotorua was a stinky place. It was a geothermal place. It was overall pleasant and slow, just like you'd want if you were on a long vacation from the San Francisco and Wellington lifestyles. Fenny tries on the cowgirl look. I think it suits her well. She's kinda that rough 'n' ready "Don't Take No Shit" sort of lady, and you can tell it when she's wearing this hat. It says: "I am Fenny. Hear me roar." PH34R 7H3 F3NNY! One of the cooler cornchips you will ever encounter in your world travels. This was discovered by Julia Ball of Wellington New Zealand in January 2002. It is known as the Jules Plane-like Cornchip to the civilised world. We took photographs so that when our grandchildren are told about it, they will have photographic proof to know its reality. When legend tells of the Great Prawn being defeated by the One True Mike Wood of New Zealand and the discovery of the Jules Plane-like Cornchip, there will be proof. Indeed, there will be proof. Here, Jules mangles some perfectly good vegetables with an evil steel spinning slicing thingy. Powered by 240v of raw electric power, the destruction is total and recovery impossible. We ate them later. They were tasty yet good yet deliciously yummy. Here Jules and Buzzy build a delicious home-grown meal while I take pictures and Fenny pretends to give direction. Here is chez Buzzy et Jules and views therefrom. Gingerbread men ripe for the slaughter. Here are the gingerbread men after the slaughter. Let's see if I can remember this right. Apologies in advance if I futz this all up and say something very historically inaccurate. From left-to-right, the gingerbread mutilations were mutilated by 1. Julia Ball of England Wellington 2. Timeless of Kansas California Wellington 3. Fenny of Taiwan California Wellington 4. Buzzy Busby of Wellington Buzzy got about 35 seconds to do his, so that's why it's a bit minimalist. Mine is as totally futzed as you think it is. Not satisfied with a single mutilation each in a night, these two slaughtermasters went at it a second time! Here is the mutilation in progress. On the left, the gingerbread thing of Julia Ball -- roadkill so we're told. On the right, the bloodied and mangled corpse of Santa Claus. As it turns out, these gingerbread things were supposed to be Santa Clausen, but the instructions, supposedly written by someone with English as a first language, were quite mutilated themselves. I didn't recognise the sentence structure as anything remotely resembling English, so we really didn't know how to proceed. We took our creativity seriously and that's what you get. This is Buzzy, photographing you. |
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