Due to the overwhelming number of inquiries as to why I’m making my way to Australia early next year, I feel I have to address the imminent influx of letters, email, and phone calls from concerned fans. Also I have nothing better to write about. And I have no fans.
Here’s why: Australia is frickin’ cool. Exhibit A: platypuses (not platypi, it’s a greek derivative… dumbass). The name translates as “flat foot” which is without a doubt fershure their least remarkable quality. I like to call them duckmoles. Not only are they venomous, egg-laying, and billed, they also get a whole ‘nother sixth sense: electrolocation. A platypus can perceive differences in electrical current between the two sides of its bill. Combined with its wickedly edematous spur, this makes the platypus the perfect go-to animal for scheming mad scientists everywhere.
This 21 y.o. male willl be arriving in Sydney on Jan. 25th (yes that’s intentional) but will be taking the workaday route: job, apartment, the whole deal. Accomodations might be in order for the right kind of oz-farer.
That’s right. I just invited a bunch of strangers to sleep over at my place—in a foreign country I’ve never been to and don’t know that much about. Unless you count Platypi. I mean -puses.
Oh, and I should mention since I didn’t really talk about it at all—if you really want to find out why I’m going to Australia, you should try reading the other glot.