Gran Turismo Childhood
A massive chunk of my early car knowledge came from Gran Turismo #1, and #2. This fellow here, seems to have the most documentation of Gran Turismo , I’ve ever found. This video is more nerdy than I could ever wish to be. Impressive.
Dear Mom
Look, my mom reads the blog. This one is for her.
Here I am in a tropical bird infested bug swamp. I left Victoria with a wad of cash spewing between my fingery fist, and now I have a few bills to hang out to dry on the clothesline. There are no dryers here. THE SUN SHALL PROVIDE said Australian society and so few homes seem the need to install these clothing ovens. The washing machines seem different, as they spin at ungodly speeds to work with magical gravity forcing the moisture out. With time on the line your T-shirts and pants are crispy pancakes, easy to fold and crunch into flat stackable plates and tuck away into a drawer. I just got my first set of Australian drawers today actually. Finally my room floor can be clean and organized. The few things I brought and bought seem to scatter evenly for floor space, but no longer shall I provide shelter for the cock roaches. Such cock roaches that rudely interrupt fapping sessions, as my wonderful girlfriend still resides in Acadia, or the west coast equivalent. I miss her so, but the bugs keep me company though I don’t request it. My body swollen and battered as word has gotten out of an exotic flesh not yet tasted by every single species of bug, some sampling more than once. This flesh destroyed by the sun that provides all, Rednecked and farmer tanned to perfection, no longer drapes over a large gut. The sun wants my moisture dearly. It takes requests it daily, and takes as much as it can when I allow it. This moisture is taken from my fat storage, no longer needed to keep me warm, but also from my bowels, which process food slowly into dry bricks far behind delivery schedule. Beware of Tumbleweeds, I may have had a hand in their creation. My creations have been limited at best, I haven’t been pumping out shit blog posts. I realized today that it’s my blog, and I’m not disappointing the ideals of ‘Speed Hero’. No, I’m just disappointing myself. Disappointment is not just contained to the lack of free range expression, but where free range lacks, focused expression marvels in the attention. I’ve been putting out forests worth of resumes both paper and digital. I hope minecraft can provide enough trees for the emails I’ve been sending to employers. Sometimes I’m worried those trees have dried up, or the phones have run out of minutes as employers can’t seem to reach me. Each so friendly to accept my donation of recyclable paper. I was warned people would be rude in Australia, but that’s hardly been the case, rather the opposite. I’ve spent more time meeting and greeting, sleeping on couches and farting in car seats than I have in a long time. This social exercise has kept the depression to a minimum, and lets me know the things I have to say are at minimum, mildly entertaining to a general audience. This audience seems to make up a great chunk of car culture here in Brisbane. I’ve been to nearly uncountable events in the just over a month period I’ve wasted my savings upside down. Drfting, sprints, club meets. It’s been at least 2 events per weeks, some weeks I’m up to 5. There’s more than that to attend, and wishing I had a camera and a car is cutting into my confidence greatly. There is much more opportunity to indulge my passion on this hot side of the rock. It polarizes me even further when it costs twice as much for 10 times the fun of back home. I miss my family and I miss looking to my left first when crossing the street. It didn’t take long to get to know the streets, not from a navigational perspective, but from a mirrored one. Just flip the image and it’s all the same with one exception: No turning on a red light. For those back home this would be a right turn, down under it’s the left. Sitting at a traffic light for ages, being raped for moisture, unevenly, by the sun. I must thank and continue to thank all those who treat me well. I hope to have the strength to treat them the same. I refuse to re-read this or seepl check it. It with deal.
Mt. Cotten Hill Climb
Robbie and I have been friends online for early 10 years now, so when I showed up in his living room finally it was no surprise that he was motivated to help with the videos! He shot lots of photos as well, as the event was rad.
A rung what you brung type of event, held in a national park. Organized by thr MG Club of Brisbane. There was a wild selection of rides, from bone stock Toyota Corollas all the way up to Rotary powered formula 1 chassis!!!! You can catch the big album of pcitures from the event on our facebook page, just Click Here.
My Early introduction to Aussie motoring.
4 events this week end. I’m wiped out entirly; sunburnt and covered in spider bites (That’s another story) Robbie, Jane, Noel, Juliette and I managed to make it out to 4 different motoring activities.
It was a long trip, of sitting, feeling lost, swiping credit cards, getting lost, not sleeping, no pooping, and no good conversations.
Goodbye Victoria, Thanks for all the fish.
Seriously though, we ate a lot of sushi, lots of it. I just want to say thanks for having me. It was destined to be an adventure from the start. I left Kitchener Ontario in a free tercel found on craiglists. Baldy summers tires, and a radio it made it all the way across canada in the dead of winter on a solid diet of oil. I was told numerous times I would die along the way, but here I am, ten toes, 11 fingers, two eyes and 4 egos. Ready to begin my next adventure.
I have to say that I’ve only been successful in all my outings due to a tiny little website, obscured in the corner of the fuzzy vast interweb. Sewn by spiders of mystery the internet led me to Dorikaze and Dorikaze has led me to awesome things. Corollas, I love them more than most people love their livers. Be honest there, that alcohol sponge somewhere in your middle doesn’t get as much admiration as the little family cars I cherish dearly. Dorikaze loves them too. Enough to group together and argue about them online. Document little photos of small improvements, boring to everyone except a micro percentage of enthusiasts dusted across Canada. DK has always been my spring board of curiosities, they nay not be by my side at every moment as I break social rules and records no one is paying attention to; however they seem to support it, without question, anytime the topic comes up. Money where their mouths are, they show support both emotional and otherwise.
By the time my tires rolled off the ferry in that smokin’ joe camel of a tercel my Corolla count for victoria was already 2. A little yellow wagon and a robins egg blue ae86 were waiting for me. Along with those was a steep driveway and a couch to sleep on. DK long ago led me to a local. Back in Kitchener, I was an eager beaver with Corollas on the brain, and wanted to just chat to some of the members in person. There was only one other member in town at the time. Thanks to a DK drift carting event, we got to meet up. James and I took the long trip to Toronto to bash some karts. James has always been the biggest supporter of my wild adventures. A poor philanthropist. Hes always done whatever he could to make things happen. Without him, I’d probably be missing those toes we mentioned earlier, or atleast down to only 10 fingers.
Two Corollas awaited, a yellow wagon was picked for it’s clean title and fresh cali-shell. The ae86 shed it’s skin, and donated it’s organs to the wagon. Bam, hit the ground running in Vancouver Island. From here, through DK I met everyone I needed to meet to have a good, successful time.
More Corollas followed, and through all the mountain climbing, both with my feet and penis covered automobiles, fun was had interacting with cars. Instantly I became associated with the local Drifting Organization, Capital Drift. A few DKer’s in there as well, it became my west coast family. Cap D just seemed to be a holiday on top of my holiday. Organizing events, and teaching drifting became a monthly, sometimes bi-sexually-monthly excuse to beat the shit out of cars and make good friends. Both statements, being true, but also very true.
Cap D led me to meeting some of the greatest people. Where I left behind my loving and adoring Yes Guy Ontario friends, Cap D’s stepped up to help out. Slowly my little yellow tin brick was assembled, not without trouble, from other refuse and garbage, all DK provided parts, and Cap D wrenching. From my days of couch wake boarding, to living in a forest, to living in a furnace room. Both DK and Cap D assembled my car.
During this short 3 year span, I managed to have a trailer home, run a small business, own some corollas, cut some cars into trucks, do some streeting, ride some flatland, teach racing, import my own car from japan, get back into flatland, wash some cars, own some more corollas, help others build their cars, get people discounts on parts, own some more corollas, drink a lot of ice tea, finally learn some independence, own some more corollas, learn to ride motorcycles, learn to tango, climb some mountains, play bike polo,fall in love with a lovely girl, own some more corollas and drink more ice tea. I made a lot of good friends. Friends who took care of me at my weakest moments, and I just want to say thank you.
The sum of the story, the TLDR is that Epic breeds Epic. Do something wild and challenging, you may not succeed, but a good story is all you were going to get from it either way.
Thank you Victoria.
A few Canadian days remain
Soon I’m about to drop the C for an A. 3 days till I hop a flight down under, to the land of cyclones, floods and everything that moves being poisonous. None of that scares me, what scares me most though? I’ve sold off everything I own, managing to involve nearly everyone I know in the process. It’s so important that this trip supplies them with what they hope for from it. I’m most afraid of disappointment.
I have to keep reminding myself this is for shear enjoyment. To those who keep asking? I know it’s impossible. I know my goal is practically pointless to pick, yet here we go, days away, spending a year challenging myself. I had much more to say here, but having a lot of trouble expressing myself lately.
