For got to say, recently did some gigs down under in Australia. Bit of a culture shock down there. I say, culture, bit of a shock.
But it was fun, while I was down there I went on a Bush tour to see the outback and the park ranger told me something I’ll never forget. He said, "Oh Kangaroo over there in the distance as you can see, now they can be quite dangerous in the wild, but you should be alright as long as you don’t put it in a corner, you should be fine."
Interesting, coz firstly there aren’t any corners in the outback, it’s fucking flat. Secondly, why would I want to do that? What would his advice be for coming across a giraffe, "Should be alright with a giraffe, as long as you don’t put it under a table, should be fine."
"Ooh, watch out for that croc, whatever you do don’t try and take it up a ferris wheel, they fucking hate that shit!"
"I once took a marmoset through Duty Free, it damn near chewed my fucking balls off!"
"You would’ve thought waking up a gorilla with a vuvuzela would be a good thing, u-uh, do they not like that."
Don’t put a kangaroo in the corner, I was like, cheers for the advice mate, I’ll be sure to tell my girlfriend not to masturbate with a cactus either.
Anyway, my girlfriend has invited her mates round to ours to stay for the weekend. Which does wonders for my social phobia. So out comes the special plates and a full bowl of 'guest' jelly babies that I'm not allowed to touch.
A typical conversation before hallowed guests arrive would go something like this:
Shoreditch Boy enters bathroom to wash hands.
Girfriend: Er, I hope you don’t think you’re using that soap. That’s special guest soap.
Shoreditch Boy: Well where’s the special boyfriend soap?
Girlfriend: I’ve never seen you wash your hands anyway!
Shoreditch Boy: You’ve never seen me wipe my arse but I use toilet paper.