The Best Part of a Holiday...

The ClubDes Management made our annual pilgrimage north to warmer climates this week and despite the reprise from the daily grind it provided, it’s always good to be back, or as Junior so eloquently put it “The best part of a holiday is coming home”.

We took a bit of a sabbatical away from technology this break, choosing not to take out laptops with us. We didn’t go completely cold turkey though, keeping our cell phones and iPods on us at all times, a choice which I became quite stoked with the morning I figured out how to surf the web on my mobile. Now I really can have streaming porn with me at all times.

Fortunately we were offline by choice and not because we’re Telescum customers relying on the XT network for anything, because it seems that little gem has finally gone tits up.

Which comes as no surprise to me, because not wanting to blow my own horn or nothing – I’m a lower rib (or two) removal away before I can fulfil that lifelong dream – but I did foresee it happening some time ago.

Not that it was hard to pick because there is a certain amount of inevitability about a company that fleeces such an obscene amount of money off its gullible customer base that sooner or later, they will fuck it up. A point only highlighted all the more when they recently rebranded with a ‘logo’ which my four year old niece could have drawn. And they paid how much for it?

If you’re not an XT user then you should still be alarmed; this is the company vying to be given the contract that will allow them to be the purveyor of New Zealand’s ultra fast broadband infrastructure...

I did once nip into an Internet cafe briefly (whilst away) to check a few things though and yet again I found myself seeking the answer to the unanswered question I always have in such a place; just what would they do if you cranked up a porn site? Would they kick you out or merely ask that you turned the volume down?

In the end I never tested the theory because I’m not that desperate for either porn or the need to know, but I can’t help but think that subliminally I always choose a seat with my back to the door for just the day I do.

You will be pleased to know, I am sure, that the world of many trying to look like mutton dressed as lamb in our ‘hot spots’, like Taupo, has not diminished. The place is full of Miley Cyrus wannabes checking themselves in each and every glass shop fronts and like minded young boys pretending they know just what they’d do if they were ever to see a woman – other than they’re Mum – naked.

Hastings, one of my old haunts, was no different, only scarier. The men there favour a haircut that is half mullet half minge and for some reason has to be part bleached, especially if you’re naturally dark haired. The girls, perhaps in retaliation to the insult that the aforementioned hairdo seems to make on their tastes, seem to have taken to wearing black business suit socks with everything, including short skirts and jandals. Nice.

Then there were the four or five gang prospects who took a liking to the mother-in-laws Mercedes that we were driving.

Much like the Internet cafe I was faced with a moral dilemma; keep my eye on the parked Merc whilst Junior had his hair cut whilst at the same time trying to pretend I wasn’t staring at the bastards scoping it out, or merely take them for the law abiding citizens I am sure they are and do nothing? Needless to say we moved it out of sight as soon as we were finished.

Yep, the best part of a holiday is indeed the getting home.