As a child we all have that urge to explore . . . to climb that tree up the backyard . . . to go with dad down to the shops to pick up some 'no more gaps' and the bread and milk for mum, just because you can . . .to dig that super deep hole in the sand pit on the off chance that you may find that buried treasure everyone carries on about . . . lifting every big rock or log you can find to see if there is a weird creepy crawly you haven't seen before . . . to peek through the crack in the fence to see what lurks in the neighbours yard and stir up their dog . . .

But for many of us this itch to explore stays with you beyond childhood.

Soon enough what lies in the neighbour's yard and trips down to Bunnings just is not enough, the rest of the world is whispering out you're name, calling you to come and play. The sights, smells and experiences are out there waiting for you . . . . and for some of us lucky ones, we answer to its call.

Welcome to the blog of the Colhoun sisters, two lucky little ladies who have begun their quest for Global Domination.

Follow us to share the sights, smells and sticky situations we will encounter over the next 12 months while traveling the UK & Europe. Laugh with us, cry with us and soak up all that the world has to offer - after all, you only live once!

- Ashley & Hayley

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

I miss my entertainment box

I was thinking about how I miss watching tellie, as we havent had one since we left home in March . . . .  I miss it so much I even miss watching the continuous droves of mindless advertisements that rudely interrupt our viewing pleasure.

Sometimes I would even trade the uncomfortable mind numbing silence for the good old "Doors Plus" or "Retra Vision" advertisement jingles playing on constant repeat.

Which lead me to think about my favourite all time TV Ads  . . . . .

Like the Woolies Macro Organic produce ad -

And this legendary Pure Blonde ad -

And the Evian Water ad -

And this EPIC Carlton Draught ad

Who needs television programs when the ads are just as entertaining

hmmmm . . . . . suddenly I feel like drinking a Pure Blonde, a Carlton Draught and a bottle of Evian Water, and I may need to pop down to the shop for some Macro Organic produce and my very own tambourine - strange

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

London Transport - Mind the Gap - Its Ginormous

The other night Halz and I went on a lovely ladies dinner out, we decided to head to Miller & Carter in Chelmsford (http://www.millerandcarter.co.uk/) to do this its normally 2 small train trips one from Brentwood to Shenfield and then from Shenfield to Chelmsford, no big drama.

N O T . T H I S . T I M E

When we got to the ticket counter at Brentwood station the dude mentioned that the Chelmsford service is via Billericay today . . . . we smiled and nodded, "no worries", purchased our tickets and wandered off to the platform to wait for the train.

Train came, we arrived in Shenfield, hopped on another to Billericay, jumped off the train and looked for the information screen to advise us of which platform the train to Chelmsford will arrive on . . . .  . EPIC FAIL  . . . . . there is no freaking train to Chelmsford - Ashley starts to panic a little

After wandering around the station for a short while, we bumped into a station staff member, with a quick murmur of "Chemsford?" she pointed towards another staff member standing down the far end of the platform

. . . at this point it felt a little like one of those scavenger hunts, where will we go next?

Asked the lonely guy at the end of the platform where we go to get to Chelmsford and he pointed to a massive line of busses parked outside the station with a million other confused commuters packed around them


We wander around repeating the the word "Chelmsford" and being bounced from staff member to staff member, bus to bus untill finally we get to a big blue bus with the word CHELMSFORD printed on its window - Woooppeeeee, Finally!!

We go to jump on and the driver stops us at the door "Sorry girls this bus is full"

J U S T . M Y . F R E A K I N G . L U C K

"Go down to the next bus and they will fit you on" . . . . off we trot, arrive at the next bus, squeeze out another exhausted little "Chelmsford" (for the 50th freaking time that afternoon) only to be told that the big blue bus we had just been to was the ONLY bus going to Chelmsford, we spin around to point to it and make sure as the blasted thing pulls away from the curb and speeds off down the road. . . .

J E E E Z U S . C H R I S T

I . H A T E . Y O U . L O N D O N . T R A N S P O R T 

I turn back to the man and give him one hell of a stink eye, I start to feel raindrops hitting my hair and face, the rage starts to boil and  then it all comes rolling out. One long, frustrated and slightly aggressive educational explanation of the longwinded, highly unorganised attempt made by his incompetent fellow team members to advise us of the direction we needed to go in to get to Chelmsford, and how he needed to find us a solution to get there ASAP or so help me god I will vigorously insert my size 7 swede shoe so far up his bum he will be able to chew on the gum I accidentally stepped in earlier that day  . . . . . . .


I felt much better after my mini explosion, and next thing we know a big bus pulls up in front of our feet to take JUST THE 2 OF US all the way to Chelmsford, compliments of the Team manager of London Transport.

T H A T . I S . W H A T . I M . T A L K I N G . A B O U T

Arriving at Chelmsford station, chauffeured by the very accommodating (and slightly intimidated) London Transport System, we make our way to Miller and Carter Steakhouse, enjoy a glorious dinner and have a great old time. . . . .

Lesson learnt - London Transport is horrendous, so just yell a bit and before you know it, they think you are the Queen herself - about time someone recognized me for the legend that I am, hahahaha

M I N D . T H E . G A P

- L O N D O N . T R A N S P O R T . S Y S T E M - O N E . B I G . F U C K I N G . G A P . I N . S O C I E T Y

Cheerio my darling subjects

- Your Majesty, Ashley Elizabeth

x x x

Sunday, 11 September 2011

Music - Soothes the Soul or Awakens the Beast?

I think its amazing how music can dramatically alter ones mood - don't you agree that its just amazing how much a song can affect you?

I was at work earlier today, running around like a blue ass fly, busy as anything, stressed out to the max and feeling like wandering out the back and shooting myself in the head when this really crazy flamenco song came on over the bar.

Now let me tell you, the minute I heard this song I was shaking my booty like no black mamma can (no racial intentions there, black women have the most beautiful big bootys and they can move like no other, I was merely stating that my booty shaking was of impeccable standards . . .  naturally), I was completely BUSTING A MOVE, the customers found it funny, as did my teammates, however it took me a little while to remember that I was in a public place filled with hundreds of people, and they were ALL watching me . . . .

Despite the overwhelming embarrassment I was feeling much better, not so stressed, in fact, dare I utter the words, but . . . . . I may have even been having a little bit of  . . . . . oh dear, here it comes . . . . FUN

So this revelation led me to have a think about all my 'Music induced moods' which Im sure after reading through them you can picture yourself

Angus & Julia Stone & Jack Johnson - Chilled ouuuuutttt, with a small hint of homesickness and nostalgia

Nickleback & ACDC - Pumped up & slightly aggressive expressed through rock chick head movements and air guitar playing

Infected Mushroom & Skitzmix - A little crazeeee, bouncy bouncy, oodles of energy, want to run around in a paddock at 2am while wearing a glow in the dark jumpsuit and twirling glow sticks

Eminem & Any other Gansta Rapper - Kranky, up for a fight, walking with a bit of bad ass swagger & sitting so far back while driving that you need to wear stilts just to reach the accelerator

Beyonce, Christina Aguilera & other Strong Independent voices - Empowered, oozing with confidence coupled with a bit of booty shaking or belting out mega love ballads at the top of our lungs, thinking we sound awesome, when reality is we sound like a buffalo in heat

Ministry of Sound - Always, without fail, when pumped loud enough, makes you want to go out to the pub and party with you're mates

Enya - Puts you to sleep - INSTANTLY

Mumford & Sons - Makes you want to slap you're knee and bob you're head like those hillbilly folk and sing along with great internal instrumental passion

In fact, music is alot like drugs, you have the uppers, the downers, the ones that make you cranky, the ones that put you to sleep, relax you, make you shake you're booty, the list is endless.

No wonder there is money to be made in the music industry, essentially its just one MASSIVE drug syndicate pushing its many consumables onto the world's population, young and old, rich & poor, educated and not so much so.

My new life aspiration - to be a tune pimp & groove pusher

See you on the flipside homies

Saturday, 10 September 2011

A little bite of Sunshine in every Pack

I was in Sainsburys the other day searching for foods that we can prepare in our 'kitchen' that doesn't require storing in the fridge or cooking by any method other than a microwave. . . .  hmmmm lots of options there - NOT

After some wandering around aimlessly and few cans of Heinz soup later I decided that some chips would be a good idea (The weirdos over here call them 'crisps') and because i seem to be getting a little round around the edges lately (thanks to all the beer I have been consuming) I wanted to go for a 'healthier' option, but didn't want something that tasted like I was chewing on an old shoe.

After picking up several horrible options I came across Walkers' (Which is our Smiths by the way) little packets of awesomeness . . . .

AND the best bit was that the multipacks were on offer, 3 for 3 pounds - YEA BOI

I got them home and decided to try a pack . . . . .


There was one hell of a party in my mouth and EVERYONE was invited, these grain chips were the most impressive packet of chippies I have ever eaten, the flavours were insanely moreish, the texture was great, good portion size and the best bit was - they were good for those bootylicious women out there, like myself, who simply cannot let go of their fatty impulsions and have the undying need to scoff down a packet of chips the minute we feel even slightly peckish.

Heaven in a packet

After gorging myself on a few packets It finally clicked to me the relevance of Walkers' TV advert for Sunbites - it suddenly became so much funnier, wanna see?

All this good news aside, I think I may have a problem, I have become a 3 pack a day consumer, someone needs to invent me some grain-patches so I can try kick this habbit before I start falling apart . . . . meh, its TOTALLY WORTH IT

Spread the word people, Sunbites are the way forward

Friday, 9 September 2011

Family trip to Disneyland . . . . well not quite, but close enough

The other day at work, whilst standing in a group, bored out of our brains, waiting for ANYONE to walk through the door and give us something to do, we started talking about roller coasters and scary rides we had been on (for me it was my past experiences watching everyone else plummet from ridiculous heights whilst I gallantly held all of the bags, hey - its an important role within the group dynamic, stop judging me) and the boys came up with a brilliant idea to co-ordinate everyones days off and have a day trip to Thorpe Park (For all the Aussie readers, you are probably pulling the "huh?" face right now, just like we did . . . Thorpe Park is the UK version of Dreamworld).

After some secretive planning, roster fiddling, car coordination, poor directions, traffic jams, strategic parking, lining up in the million people deep ticket queue, busting out with our buy one get one free vouchers and loosing one of our crew in the security gates which closely resembled the customs section at the airport (I told him not to try and smuggle in his ridiculously large joint, but of course he didnt listen, lesson learnt - HA) we were finally standing in the land of screaming, spine-tingling, stomach churning FUN ready to tackle these babies . . . .

After lining up for insane amounts of time next to the smelly kid with no friends, the young couple who spend the whole time trying to fit each others faces into their mouths and the poor guy who just wanted to be cool for taking the kids to Thorpe park but forgot he has to go on with the them and is now crapping his dacks  and was clearly looking for ANY escape route possible, there were a few moments spent shooting from crazy death defying heights, backwards, upside down, and wrong way around, with your fingernails now permanently impressed into the safety bars at speeds unnatural to man, resulting in you're voice turning into that of a 2 pack a day smoker

. . . . . . . . . .  followed by lunch and a few beers

Jess and Halz werent all that keen on the whole 'scaring the poo poo out of you' rides, they spent thier ride time on things such as the hardcore 'Tetley Teacups' followed by a 3D movie and a wander around the gift shop


As the sun started to fade away, Ant and Matt decided it was the perfect time to go on the 'Tidal Wave' . . .  now lets just take a moment to think about this - its getting dark, it has been overcast and rather chilly all day and it wasnt about to get any warmer and this particular ride has been constructed for the pure purpose of getting you 110% absolutely soaking wet

Resulting in this . . . . .


After wandering around the park soaking wet for the next few hours it was time to head home . . . . . heading towards the exits we hear a big booming voice over the Announcement Systems that there had been an accident on the motorway and as a result there were massive traffic jams all the way home. Just my freaking luck, im all soggy, my wet jeans are clinging so hardcore to my ass it feels like im all wrapped up in cling-wrap, im exhausted, hungry and cold . .  what more can go wrong??

Luckily, the boys knew the best remedy for waiting for traffic to clear - Find a pub, grab some food and finish the day off with a couple of well earned pints

All in all, a great day! Not really the best suggestion for the socially awekward, pregnant, those with back problems, midgets/small children or those universally referred to as "PUSSIES" - but for all the others out there, DO IT, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO - www.thorpepark.com

Fearless bastard - over and out

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Squishy Love

Mannnnnn, the weather is starting to get colder, a few more miserable rainy days than usual . . . . . .purrrrrrrfect squishy love time

Halz and I have been feeling our maternal bones a tingling over the past week, and we all know that the only non-baby option to these tinglings is to get ourselfs some fluffy squishes

Something along the lines of . . . . . .


or THIS 

or even THIS 

Needing some serious loving people, or we may just result to buying ourselves our very own retard-ninja . . . . isnt he a cutie!!

Please, send us some love 


Well well well, long time no blogging

You wont believe what happened to me the other day . . . . .

I was cleaning my room and heard a bit of rustling and very faint sniggering coming from underneath my bed . . . I jumped on top and very bravely hung my head over the edge to take a peek and may I say I definitely discovered something rather odd, it was an interesting find indeed, not every day do you see a fuzzy little dust-bunny running around causing mischief and trying to light a small collection of old receipts and food wrappers on fire, right there underneath your bed.

What on Earth could be going on here??

It was there and then that I realised what it was that was gnawing on my shoe and mumbling naughty words under its breath . . . .

My poor little neglected Blog!

The little darling was just acting out and being naughty in order to get some attention, it had been so long since I last blogged that the little fella was feeling very alone and unloved.

It was at this point I decided that it was time to give this little fella some DEEP SCOTTISH LOVE


. . . . . . . . Prepare to be blogged

Saturday, 7 May 2011

What the? UK television adverts are lets say . . . . a little strange

So I was on Facebook and came across a link for a new tv advert for some yummy biscuits here in the UK

Take a look  -


This would have to be the most CREEPY tv ad I have ever seen, how do they honestly think that this ad campaign will sell their biscuits?

I would purposely avoid the whole freaking supermarket if I thought two weirdo biscuit monkeys were going to drop from the roof and get all sexy with me in order to make me choose their flavour and then do some perverted celebration dance when you pick up a packet.

The way the Jammie Monkey is sitting there stroking the packets and staring blankly into her eyes just made my skin crawl. And their suggestive little voices cooing at you "Jaaaaaammmmmmie" . . . . . "Toffffeeeeee"

Now after seeing this clip it made me start to wonder . . . . . . . . are there really Jammie and Toffee Monkeys out there . . . waiting . . . . . lurking in the buiscuit isle of you're local store, ready to do their little hip gyration routine . . . . . trying to lure you into taking a packet home with you . . . . letting them into your home


"Jaaaaammmmmmmmiieee . . . Jammie Jammie, Jaammmmmmmmie"

Thats right, enjoy you're nightmares people

Sweeet Dreams

Thursday, 5 May 2011

Blimey Mate, Quick chuck me a scooner of Tooheys, fire up tha barby, whack on me thongs and jump in me ute, I'm loosin my flamin Aussie accent bloke

Holly Shiiiiit . . . . . I think Im slowly loosing my Aussie - WHAT DO I DO???

Apart from eating Vegemite by the bucket load and walking around the house in my thongs, what more can I do so far away from home?

Yesterday I managed to say "its well hot in here" and almost died at the thought of picking up on their horrible distortion of the English language, I immediately corrected myself and then shut my mouth for the rest of the day.

Now when I talk to customers they dont look at me with that "You're not from around here" expression anymore, instead I must seem normal to them, which concerns me as my Australian-ness was so obvious to them in the beginning.

Today Hayley got out all the Australian Souvenirs and "Best of Australia" posters and hung them all around our room, it looks like a bloody gift shop in here. She even went as far as attaching those clip on Koala's to all the hanging light fittings hanging from the roof . . . . .  its boarder-lining on creepy

When trying to top up on Australian normality here we always seem to find a problem that gets in the way

Cadbury Chocolate - Just not the same, rather powdery and tastes weird

A Meat Pie - pastry is different, tastes nothing like the ones at home

Choccy Milk - Tastes like UHT milk and home brand cocoa powder

Bacon - Its all smoked here, and its sliced super thin and has the texture of smoked salmon

Steak - No-one here can cook a steak properly, let alone identify a nice cut of meat, every one we have tried has been cooked badly and is super tough, give
me some Aussie beef anyday

- I am yet to find a beer that doesnt taste like horse urine here, NOT HAPPY JAN

Aioli - These weirdos look at us strange when we ask for aioli, they have no idea what it is

Tomato & BBQ Sauce - they taste nothing like our sauces, how do these people live? OMG

Please, send us some Australian care packages, we beg of you, please help us keep our Aussie, we love it dearly and dont want it to leave us.

ANZAC bikkies, Tim Tams, Tomato Sauce, we need you, we love you, please come to us.

Aussie - Over and Out

So . . FYI Home sickness SUCKS - Anyone have a private jet or a giant slingshot?

I woke up, accidentally elbowed Halz in the head as I turned over, stepped out of bed straight into some broken glass on the floor, wandered down the hallway filled with random boxes of cleaning products, napkins and straws, into the bathroom, took a look at our 'shower' and the wet carpeted floor, glanced in the mirror at my tired pale face and took a big deep breath in . . . . . another long day, for another few measly pounds. 

I felt a little flat and heavy chested . . . . what is this icky fog Im in today? . . . . . Oh SHIT . . . . . Im Homesick


sad or depressed from a longing for home  or family while awayfrom them for a long time.

Thats all I freaking need . . . .

Please someone tell me that there is some cooky nanna remedy for Homesickness, like standing on you're head whilst downing a Jager Bomb or spinning around 12 times while singing 'Backstreets back' and then jumping over a bar stool without falling over  . . . . I need a quick fix, because this horrible disease tends to come and go whenever it pleases randomly plaguing us and over staying his welcome.

Sir Richard Branson, we have all heard of you're grand plans to have regular flights into space and back for the insanely rich . . . . yes, its rather impressive, but how about SUPER fast flights from London to Sydney so you can do day trips for about $10 a pop - I think thats a much better idea, cater for the 'living of tips' demographic so we dont have to feel Homesick every second or so day.

Or alternatively I could build a giant slingshot in the paddock next door and pop home in time for dinner . . . . .

hmmmmm . . . . . I will let you know how this goes 

. . . . . If I die, please play Enya and Michael Buble at my funeral and I want only white tulips, no roses or babies breath and there better be some serious crying people, after all who will be there to entertain you daily with mindless drivel? Yeah, thats what I thought, you're crying already arent you . . . its ok, let it all out, you will feel better.

Egg Fried Rice and Mayo Farts

So living off tips alone makes for interesting meal choices at times . . . .

The other day we were in Sainsburys and we came across some discounted 'reduced to clear' egg fried rice - YUMMO

When we got home and gave it a zap in the trusty mica we soon realised that it wasn't all that YUMMO after all  . . . . . Disappointing right?


I decided to bust out with the amazing Heinz Mayonnaise (which these days, living in the land of food with no flavour or appealing texture, I seem to do alot - LOVE my mayo) and something magical and out of this world was born


- please note: the 'fart' part of this meal name originates simply from the farting noise that kept happening while we were squeezing the mayo onto our rice . . . this simple noise tended to amuse us successfully for several hours (we dont have much in terms of entertainment these days, I know, its sad)

So I am passing this discovery on to you all, take this recipe of AWESOMENESS with you and experience what your stomach has been craving in secret all this time . . . . trust me you will never be truly satisfied until you try this - It will change you're life forever


I would sell my kidney for a REAL shower with adequate pressure . . . . . Anyone interested? Bids start at $200

How is it that a country so old and developed can be so far behind when it comes to having a bloody shower that works? Honestly can someone explain this to me?

Since arriving in the UK we haven't had 1 decent, enjoyable, relaxing shower and it is driving me absolutely mental.

At the moment our 'shower' situation is quite unique to say the least.

Here in the UK they have these strange boxes that the shower head is connected to, which controls the temperature of the water, you have a dial which you turn to you're desired temperature and then you either press a button or turn another tap thing and the water comes  . . . . . . this is all well and good if the thing works . . . . . . which so far has not been the case with EVERY shower we have come across - EVERY SINGLE ONE

At all the backpackers we stayed in on our travels the shower pressure was the equivalent of a little man hanging from the roof taking a wizz on you . . . . At the staff house our shower only did one temperature - SCALDING OWIE BURNY TORTURE CHAMBER . . . . Here at the Nags the shower does the polar opposite - FREEZING BONE CHILLING SHOWER OF DEATH

Sooooooo, our lovely housemate Georgie purchased a handy little contraption which she has attached to the bath taps which has hose and a hand held shower head, so we can now control our temperature manually like the rest of the world

HOWEVER - the hose for the shower head is so short that you have to either bend over to get under the water OR sit in the bottom of the bath in order to get under the water - which drives me absolutely bonkers


This dude has the right idea
 I can only describe this frustration in one way . . .  you know when you go camping for several days and you only have that 'bag of water hanging in a tree' setup and you always feel gross and when you're on you're way home the first thing you want to do is have an hour long shower, wash you're hair and stand there under the water until you a perfectly assured that you are squeaky clean and you're fingers have turned into pruney old people fingers


When I get back to AUS, I am going to spend the first week IN THE SHOWER and its going to be amazing . . . .  I dream of this moment every night

So every time you step into you're heavenly showers and the warm pressured water flows down upon you, take a moment to think about poor Ash & Halz who are sitting in the middle of a freezing room above a pub with our arses in a bucket and a jug of luke-warm water in our little shaking hands

- Donations can be made to aid our cause at www.moneyforpoorarsesinabucket.org

Im Back Baby - Prepare to be BLOGGED

Did you miss me . . . . . I know you did

I have felt so disconnected from the world for the past 2 weeks . . . . so here I am, hooked up to the IV . . . my life force . . . my beloved internet

I have been going crazeee without my glorious blog to keep me sane (well my version of sane at least) soooooooo I have been hand writing all my planned postings and now Im going to type them all up for you're reading pleasure


So whack some popcorn in the mica, whoop out a cuppa and get comfie in you're computer chair, its time to catch up on the interesting events of our past 2 weeks.

Drumroll people . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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Monday, 18 April 2011

Oh cleaning fairy - We know you're out there somewhere, Please come to our aid - We seriously need you

Ok, so we're currently attempting to pack our room up to move into the new place . . . . but we have hit a little speed bump, which looks rather like this -


As our room came with no wardrobe or any storage at all we have been living out of our hopeless broken and tattered suitcases (which we wish to burn once we move into the Nags - we have formed a great amount of hate for these lime green and orange vessels of pain and misfortune) which means that all our crap is spread all over the place, we cant even see what is what, its very confusing.

Imagine . . .  you're getting ready for work, you need you're jeans. You look at the couch where you placed them ready for today, but the couch has been enveloped in a swarm of clothing - shit now where are they? You see the corner of something dark blue, you pull it, nope thats a sock, damn. You pick up some of the jumpers on top, makes absolutely no difference.

In a panic you toss through the whole pile throwing each unwanted item behind you and onto the floor - no success, the jeans are nowhere to be found. You're only other option is now the overflowing suitcases - meh. where do you start?

You scan the suitcase and floor around it for ANYTHING that resembles jeans . . . . nothing.

AH HAH! You spot something hiding underneath, in unmeasurable joy you launch yourself forward and grab it, you yank it out, yay it has legs - huh? DAMN IT, its a pair of stockings!

The frustration overwhelms you, you get angry "FUUUUUUUUCK" you get desperate, grabbing anything blue or even black . . . . scarf, singlet, that same sock from before, jacket, undies . . . .

You're  blood is now boiling, you're contemplating going to work half naked and spending you're whole shift explaining to everyone that back home in Australia on Mondays no-one wears pants, we all go to work in our undies and that its one of our most important traditions. . . . you sit on the end of you're bed in defeat, whats that bump under the doona? ARE YOU SERIOUS?! they were there the whole time, hahaha

- Ashley = 1  Tatty Suitcases  = 0

This is where packing everything up has become a problem, we just dont know where to start and we're a little worried we may be bitten by something during the process. only god knows what gremlins are lurking in that nasty pile of clothes.

To be totally honest, that photo is EXTREMELY embarrassing, but I believe in an accurate and genuine representation and description, so that is why I have shown it, everything in this blog is accurate and isnt exaggerated in any way . . .  the only way you guys can try and understand what we are experiencing is to see it all in its raw form - 100% original and if that means embarrassing and rough, then thats what you'll get, lol

Anyway, I better get back to the piles of crap I need to move into our new love nest - I will be back later today with some pics of our new place. Oooooh and some photos of the glorious burning ceremony that will take place soon after - Burn suitcases BURN

chat soon

- Ash xxx

If this place goes up in flames do I really want to die sitting on the dunny?

I was just sitting in the lounge room having a chat with 2 of my housemates and we somehow got onto the conversation regarding the fire alarm system our place is rigged with.

Being a 3 story home the place has one of those big control panels that indicates where in the house the alarm has been triggered and one of those pin pads to deactivate the alarm . . . .  however none of us know how to use the damn thing, nor is there any information in the house on who to contact if the alarm was going mental and we needed to shut it down.

As 90% of the house are smokers, and 99.9% of the smoking is done INSIDE the house, I asked how it is that the alarms aren't triggered when they smoke in their bedrooms?

After finding out that they all have the smoke detectors in their rooms wrapped heavily in cling wrap I freaked out a little and decided to check out Hayley and I's options in case the house was to go up in flames . . . . . . and they don't look so flash.

On the wall next to our bedroom door is the following sign -

Awww, isnt that handy  . . . .

The sign clearly states that in the event of a fire we are to leave our room, turn RIGHT and proceed down the stairs - HOWEVER - the stairs that lead down to the front door is actually on the LEFT hand side, hahahahaha

If we were to follow the 'Safety' sheet and turn RIGHT we would be walking straight into a spare toilet . . . .


So my question to you all is, in the event of an emergency in unfamiliar surroundings, would you follow the evacuation procedures to the T or are you happy to die sitting on the dunny while the place goes up in flames around you?

The most comforting part is that Halz and I are moving out tomorrow (so unless there is a freak fire tonight sometime we are in the green) - yaaaaaaaay

So off to bed for me, big day tomorrow of packing, moving, cleaning & unpacking - oh the joys

Night all

- Ash xx

Sunday, 17 April 2011

Kopparberg - You Bloody Rippa


After slaving away serving the needy population of Brentwood all day yesterday, Halz and I ventured down to the High Street on the good old, unreliable and ridiculously expensive 498 to get a few movies.

Let me just say that Saturday night in Brentwood High street is absolutely MANIC . . . . Its like everyone looses their marbles as soon as they enter the street.

People parking in the bus zone to run into the shops, so the bus then has to stop in the middle of the street to let passengers on and off, whilst honking his horn continuously just to express his frustration . . . .

Crazzeee and extremely intoxicated Essex 'ladies' screaming out from the pub on one side of the road to get the attention of the person they know walking on the opposite side . . . . .

Young 'women' wearing practically nothing, when its like 10 degrees outside, and wearing insanely high heels the size of stilts, which you would require a ladder to climb into and trying to maneuver  themselves along the cobblestone footpath, doing something that can only be described as the 'drunken giraffe shuffle' where each step is a cross between a deep lunge, a booty shake and a very subtle death wobble . . . .

Stretch hummers parked in the middle of the road for 30mins, disrupting the whole flow of traffic, just to deliver a bunch of V.I.P guests to the front door of 'The Sugar Hut'.

On that note, please PLEASE google the television show 'The Only Way is Essex' . . . . watch a bit and only then will you truly understand the kinds of people we deal with at work on a daily basis. The Sugar Hut is mentioned on the show alot, and this popular club just happens to be located in our High Street - yay for us  * Note Sarcasm *

So Brentwood High Street on a Saturday night is NOT a place for the sane and of sound mind.

After experiencing this wacky display of local weekend ritual we decided that we, without a doubt, required an alcoholic beverage, or 2, to help us deal with what we had just encountered.

And oh my lord, did we discover a beverage . . . . .

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls (when you turn 18, of course, this blog does not endorse the consumption of Alcoholic beverages by those under the legal age of 18 years . . . . . unless you stash it in you're bag and go on a 'movie night' at you're mates place, in that case - go for gold buddy!)

We have discovered a beverage so amazing, so refreshing, so DELICIOUS that the minute it hits you're lips the clouds open and a stream of light beams down from the heavens and illuminates you're soul, and for the next 20 minutes all you can hear is a choir of angels singing the theme song for KOPPARBERG'S PREMIUM CIDER . . . . . thats right people - Cider!

They sell it everywhere here in the UK, we even have cider on tap at the bar . . . . but this cider, it shits all over the others.

Koppaberg's Premium Apple, Strawberry & Lime cider is THE MOST amazing thing I have ever tasted . . . . it is so good in fact that I am going to buy a years worth of the stuff, contact the amazing crew at Raitt International Freight and get the glorious liquid shipped back to Coffs Harbour and store it in the garage at home . . . heads up dad, start clearing some space dude, there is some serious cider coming your way!

So I think it would be an accurate assumption to mark today as the birth of our new-found alcoholism, from this point onwards it will not be blood that pumps through our strong Australian veins, it will be the fizzy, fruity awesomeness that is KOPPARBERGS PREMIUM CIDER.

(Please note children: Alcoholism is BAD and we do not support the slow and damaging death caused by the excessive consumption of Alcohol and related products  . . . . however if you happen to get you're hands on some Kopparberg's, go for it champion, and share the love with you're mates too, spread the word!)

Oh and if there are any company representatives from Kopparberg who are currently reading this blog post, please contact my people to organise the payment for my marketing talents, I will expect my cheque in the mail - thanks mate.

On closing statement - KOPPARBERG - YOU BLOODY RIPPA!

And Im off to work . . .
I hate Sundays, freaking Brits and their Sunday Roasts  . . . . They all rock up to stuff their faces with delicious baked dinner goodness. And I mean ALL OF THEM, the whole town comes through our doors at some stage each Sunday.

The worst bit is that they all want the best bits from each kind of roast - Jeeezus people just choose 1 kind, don't come up to the bar to order and tell me that you want the lamb roast, but you also want some crackling on the side, and that you're wife wants the pork roast but with a yorkshire on the side and the kids both want the beef roast, but with stuffing on the side . . . . . . SERIOUSLY PEOPLE, JUST CHOOSE ONE KIND AND DEAL WITH THE TRIMMINGS THAT COME WITH THE BLOODY THING!!!  It takes like 20mins just to put one family's orders through . . . . and then at the end, they all want special drinks - FOR GOD SAKE!!

Oh and If I have to make one more bloody PIMMS I am going to scream and throw the bottle at them! IT TASTES LIKE SHIT ANYWAY

aaaannnnnnyyy way . . . Im out, time to go to work

Catch Ya Later peeps

- Ash xx

Friday, 15 April 2011

Important Announcement - Take note

Attention all . . . . I would like to make an important announcement regarding vitality and the value of something we all take for granted at times . . . . . .
A full and happy belly.

On arriving here in Brentwood, with very little money and an extremely unhygienic and poorly equipped kitchen, Hayley and I had to find a way of adequately feeding ourselves with a seriously tight budget and no tools of the trade.

Hayley's ingenious solution to our dilemma was something that was very cheap, tasty, filling, easily customised to suit the individual, easy to make & requires only milk or water and a heat source.

Yes people, I am talking about the one, the only, legendary . . . . . PORRIDGE

This simple box of oats has provided us with breakfast, lunch and dinner on many of the desperate occasion, and every time we have sat back after eating and were both satisfied and had a full and happy belly - IT CANT GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT!

So this short, but important post is just to say hats off to the unsung hero hiding in the back of everyones pantry, the legendary Porridge ~ Oh how we love you

So next time you're belly has a little grumble and is feeling a little neglected reach into the back of you're pantry, dust off the porridge box and whip yourself up some delicious warm porridge.

And when you're sitting back in you're chair dwelling in its awesomeness, think of us . . . . on the other side of the world, sharing you're love and appreciation for that amazing little box of oats.

Thank you for your time and attention

ARGH . . . No More Music - Please

Good morning . . . . If I could call it that to be totally honest

Halz & I worked till close last night, finishing at about 12:00 pm, after the delicious (and well deserved) maccas run we finally got home just after 1:00 am. Tired, full and aching we jump into our beds, off goes the light, down goes our heads . . . . . and BAM . . . . . on goes the doof doof music in the room downstairs


Now 2 nights in a row we have had to listen to Polish dance party music till 4:30 am accompanied by the continuous onslaught of very loud, very deep, Polish gibberish and a heavy bass line that vibrates up the wall.

Its so loud we could almost set up a strobe light in our room, throw some slutty velvet cushions on the beds, add a rather large bouncer at the door and charge people 10 pound to come and bust a move . . . .

Yes, this is a photo of me in bed, Please dont look too closely

The worst bit is that if I went downstairs to tell them to turn the S#*% off, they wouldn't understand a word I was saying . . . . I would just be some crazy Australian chick standing at their bedroom door wielding a baseball bat, with crazy bed hair, bloodshot eyes, steam coming out my ears and hollering english obscenities at them . . . . . would be pointless really

Once I finally got to sleep it was AWESOME . . . up until they turned it back on at about 9:30 this morning


Sooooooo . . . . . I have a plan.

Today I am going to download every Wiggles song that has ever terrorized and haunted the adult population and I am going to put them all into a glorious little playlist in my itunes, when 6:00 pm rolls around and its time for me to go to work I am going to hit my little continuous play button, turn the MO FO up as high as it will go, place my laptop in the centre of the room, lock my door and go to work   =D


Lesson learnt Polish dudes downstairs, do not mess with the Aussie girls precious sleepy time, they will punish you severely.

What a lovely start to the weekend, now I have had my morning rant, Im off to have a shower and some brekkie.

Chat later

- Ash xx

Thursday, 14 April 2011

The Birth of the Blog . . .

Hey Hey Everyone,

Before we left Australia I kept going on about how I was going to start a blog, and I know it took me long enough to get it going but . . . . .


Here it is, better late than never!

I will try and post some of the photos from our Scottish Adventure in March, when we first arrived in the UK, but you will have to be patient, we're working a fair bit at the moment & we are both sick with the flu so we will be a little slow on the up-take for a little while.

Also to top it all off we will be moving house (THANK GOD!!) in the next few days. As Im sure most of you would know from my ramblings on facebook since we arrived here in Brentwood the 'Staff House' which we currently reside has been a little 'interesting' to say the least.

We took a few photos on our arrival, which I am happy to share with you all . . . .

Our Lovely Loungeroom
So, as you can see, the house was a little rough for our standards, and we didnt know where to sit, stand, lean  . . . . . well anything really. So the first thing we did was go straight out the front door and went for a walk down to the local high street to explore our surroundings.

The Glorious Kitchen Sink 

The positive about this house is that it is being shut down on the 22nd of April, and we all have to find our own places to live. Apparently the house does not have adequate fire safety for the number of people residing in it (The count currently stands at 10 people, including us girls, from what we could count that is) so they have to kick everyone out and there will no longer be staff accommodation.

After all the panic of being homeless after the 22nd of April and emailing all the local real estate agents and people offering rooms in share houses, we found out from our managers at The Nags Head that they have made it possible for us to move into the room they have above the pub itself, which is awesome!

Sooooo . . . . earlier this week Halz and I went to work on our day off and cleaned out the room above the pub, ready to move into. At this stage all that is left in the room is a pile of old junk and broken deep fryers that need to be disposed of  . . . . once that crap is gone we can move in. And honestly, the sooner the better! Hopefully we will be in by the end of the week, fingers crossed :)

I know it all sounds pretty sad so far, but I would rather end on a positive note, and that would be our amazing pub! Although the staff accommodation is quite ghetto, the pub happens to be the polar opposite! The Nags Head is one of the most beautifully decorated pubs I have ever been in, the atmosphere in the place is just so warm and inviting. The perfect place for a romantic cosy dinner for 2 or a lovely family dinner. Take a look at our great website:


Im enjoying working in the bar, sometimes I get a little surprised with the drink choices, like Blush Cyder, Guinness & Black current and larger shandys (British men dont know what real men drink, clearly) and the looks on peoples faces when I open my mouth never gets old. LOVE IT

Speaking of work, I think its time I get myself ready for my shift. - WoOoOo

Chat soon! 

- Ash xx