— Bob-a-job-alog-a-roonie

Obviously it is on my list. And wherever I choose, you never know, it could be cloudy, and so I’d want an additional reason for being there… The weather aspect also means I should consider I will attend more than one…

2020: Argentina and Chile. There is nowhere along the path that interests me.
2021:
The next one is in Antarctica, and 20 days cruises are $15K+. I’ll pass.
2023: Western Australia and East Timor. WA is so far away from Melbourne, and all accomodation is already booked out.
2024: It crosses the USA and Canada. And parts of Mexico that don’t interest me much. This is promising. I would like to visit Kentucky, Ohio, Maine or Montreal. Map
2026: This has great possibilities. Spanish cities, including Mallorca, and Reykjavik, Iceland. The weather is very risky for Iceland.
2027: The point of greatest eclipse, and the only part of the Middle East I want to be for it, is Luxor, Egypt. Almost as if Luxor was built for this occasion? It is also the longest eclipse anyone alive will see, lasting more than 6 minutes!
2028: Sydney (or Orange or Dubbo) and Queenstown, Wanaka, Dunedin. This will be my default if I miss all the others, very easy to achieve.

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Another business idea, for a hotel.

In a location that gets lots of non-international tourists who stay at least 3 nights, for example the Gold Coast in Australia.

Have a mattress showroom attached to the lobby. Test drive beds in the lobby, and choose the ones you wish to trial in your hotel room.

Hotel staff switch out the beds each day.

When you leave you get an offer to buy your favourite bed, guaranteed discounted and delivered to where you live.

The beds are not visibly branded, so you are not influenced by brand, and you cannot research prices elsewhere ๐Ÿ™‚

Note, this has been tried on a single option basis before, with success:

https://jensen-beds.com/try-out-jensen-mattress-hotel/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/jordilippemcgraw/2018/05/25/savoir-mattress-hotel-inspiration/#2fa05bbe53d4

https://giftshop.thehotelwindsor.com.au/product/windsor-mattress/

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The idea is for a supermarket that offers what Woolies and Coles do not. It is aimed at shoppers who want choice, not necessarily the lowest price. It is all about what is best for the customer, and work out profits later. And ups the stakes in responsibility.

  • The Big Two regularly ditch brands that were otherwise doing alright. Those brands still exist and would love a new home
  • Ethical shoppers prefer full transparency and information
  • A minimum of two choices per product type, with preference to brands not stocked by Woolies and Coles
  • Full ranges – for example every Heinz sauce, not just some
  • All fresh food provided by on-premises, 3rd-party butchers, bakers, greengrocers – with two of each for competition? Or not, undecided on this one.
  • If fruit and veg are in-store, have a wider range that usual, more heirloom / farmers market products
  • Possibly a farmers market on Sundays. A few vendors in store, or many in the car park. Leftover produce could be sold in store in the following week
  • No automated checkouts. Full service
  • No insurance or gift cards or magazines – nothing that doesn’t belong in a supermarket
  • By restricting product types, more space for groceries
  • A help desk! Ask questions about products combined with product testing, ask if something could become a stock item
  • Clearly marked zones for product type
  • Comparable products always alongside each other, not above and below competing for eye height
  • Round up for charity option at checkout – signage says you request it, staff won’t ask otherwise
  • Assistance buzzers at several locations on each aisle, primarily to help elderly people
  • Nothing ever on special??? Just an idea, probably won’t work

Think of it as a curated supermarket. When you look at the 3 brands of tea on the shelf you can clearly see the country they are from without looking at the packaging, and whether it is ethically sourced. And the shelf signage can display any other types ofย  interesting information:

  • minimal packaging
  • stocked by Coles 2008-2013
  • 88 staff in Victoria
  • only 4 ingredients
  • no artificial colours
  • no preservatives
  • imported from Italy as there is no local alternative
  • rated top pick by Choice magazine
  • typical use-by date range
  • fresh food – how long stored for, and how

And so on, not unlike what you see in some groovy bookshops.

If there was a loyalty program, it can be used to crowd-source product ideas. And if a product is not selling well, ask the people who buy it, and ask the people who buy the alternative, and find out what could be done to keep it as a stock item.

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Pop Will Eat Itself are playing in Melbourne next year. They were one of my favourite bands back in the day, and according to my journals we almost crossed paths twice:

Oct 15 1990, I had planned to see PWEI but I chose to hang out with a young German lass called Nina instead.

June 1992, Glastonbury Festival

No time to relax. But Jen and I did manage to hitch into Glastonbury town, for cash and groceries, a nice break. And coming back, we were driven by the US gig organisers for PWEI, who were present, but not allowed to play. Dude played me some of their new album, so that was cool. Found the payphones, and phoned in sick to the Castle, certain that they could hear the loud music and crowds background. Maybe they’ll just think it’s the radio in a noisy hostel. Who cares.

Been listening to them again for the first time in decades and am quite enjoying it. The themes are just as relevant today.

Just not sure if I want to watch 55 year old men pogoing on stage… I can replicate that at home if I want ๐Ÿ™‚

 

And I just realised that the new singer is from Gaye Bykers on Acid, the first band I ever saw outside of NZ, supporting Swans in Los Angeles, 1988.

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Last week in Kaikoura I paid $150 to go out on a boat to see a whale. Seeing one is not guaranteed, but happens 90%+ of the time and they give you most of your money back if the mission fails.

The trip is very professional, educational and entertaining. I learned a lot and was never bored. Highly recommended, unless the sea is rough and you don’t have sea legs. The spotting spots are 9 miles out but the boats are fast.

I got to see 2 sperm whales, one blue shark (not a fin, but looking directly down on it), some albatross and some seals doing yoga (on their back, wiggling their flippers).

If you divide a sperm whale into thirds (head, middle, tail), then you get to see their middle. After feeding they come up to the surface to rest. And that’s what you see – the middle of a whale, barely above the water, laying still. The only action is the blowhole pfffthing every 20 seconds or so.

And this is where things get weird. We are parked alongside this static whale for perhaps 15 minutes. Initially everyone is awestruck and excited. Then, well, nothing.

We are used to being entertained. After 5 minutes it got really boring, and people started staring off across the ocean, hoping for something else, anything else, to look at.

Reality Check – wildlife doesn’t exist for our entertainment. These huge (18 metres), old (40-50), intelligent beings who are very aware of our presence, don’t care about us at all.

When the whale decides to go feed again, they dive down and you get to see their tale. This is the money shot that everybody has their cameras ready for. Even though there are hundreds of whale tail photos out there much better than you can ever take, almost everyone experienced the tale through their camera. It was very quick, and OK.

 

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Tradies and labourers tour their region during winter, providing the manpower for charitable projects such as fixing the properties of elderly people, building or upgrading community facilities and so on.

  • Motels/restaurants/cafes provide their services at half-price. Winter = less business than usual, so this should be beneficial or break-even at worst
  • Community organisations like the Lions Club determine the projects and fundraise for the materials needed
  • Other businesses chip-in as they feel fit

While the volunteers are required to stay for the length of the project (if needed), they can participate in as few or many as they wish. But collectively the team are on a tour that lasts several months.

This is a hybrid model where everyone contributes. The communities receive obvious benefits, as well as something interesting happening during the quiet months.

For the volunteers, yes, they pay for food, accomodation and petrol. Mostly at reduced rates. They benefit from travel, camaraderie, experience and networking. It would also look good on their CV and be a point of difference to attract new customers at their regular business. Junior employees could be sponsored by their employer.

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…once you get past the hard part.

We all eat 3x more than what we actually need. With time and care it is possible to reduce your intake without any loss of function. Ask anyone with a lap-band. They have it easier because they can’t physically eat too much. To do it without surgery probably depends on your mental make-up. But if you can do it, losing weight is easy.

If you already eat the bare minimum required to function the same as anyone else, on 1/3 of the food, then reducing it a little bit more means losing weight. Over 18 months I naturally put on around 5kg (I don’t exercise, and drink a fair bit…). Then I lose in over 2 months by skipping every 2nd breakfast. As someone who only eats when I need to, I am very used to the feeling of hunger. Hunger gives me strength, when I am in the mood.

So if you are lucky that you can, try just eating less each day. When I was a kid it was meat and three veg, plus dessert, every night. Now, a burger and chips is too much food. Anyone who has the willpower to, say, quit smoking, can eat less also. So give it a go!

 

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I went to buy this shirt, but figured I’ll look into the seller a bit more…

Search the contact details on Google…

The phone number is actually the fax number of a doctor’s surgery
The address is a farm in the middle of nowhere

Also, the domain is not a .com.au – you need to be an Australian business to register a .com.au, whereas anyone, anywhere can buy a .com

And, they only accept Paypal, which is less than you expect these days

And the domain name is only 50 days old – look up online using a WHOIS service

And, no reviews anywhere

Fake sites don’t create new or unique products, they copy them from elsewhere. So I found the same shirt at RedBubble, a well-known store, for $22.

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  1. I will only go to ones I can get to. Living near the beach, a good amount are in the ocean
  2. Timing might be an issue, so I get there ASAP
  3. I look super-local, like a 5m radius of where I think the spot is
  4. I will give this 20 goes and feel if it has merit

Dates and addresses are varied and irrelevant*, but in chronological order:

1st go

Terrible photo. The address was a suburban street, and it was late at night. There was nothing remotely interesting except the licence plate of the car outside WHN 000. I took it to mean “whino” and I was a bit drunk on this occasion and many in general.

2nd go

Location was an alley behind some houses. The wall at the precise spot had this graffiti, which has no meaning to me.

3rd go

This time it sent me to somewhere I know well, a restaurant called Topolinos. Nothing of interest seemed to happening inside, and this was parked out the front. Zen is obviously religious.

4th go

Wellington St, St Kilda. This is exactly opposite the address. I couldn’t quite see what the figurines are, but the one at the far left is the Buddha.

SUMMARY – so far I have been told I am a wino, and been pointed towards Zen Buddhism. While meaningful to me personally, these are not Matrix-shattering glitches.

5th go, Alma Place, around 11 pm. The precise location was the car park of an apartment block, and a gate was stopping me from entering:

Remember, I am a skeptic… I could see nothing beyond the gate that could be remotely interesting.

HOWEVER, on the road directly outside was an SUV, engine idling. The driver, staring off into space, was a 70-ish Jewish looking man with a very long white wizardly beard. Obviously I didn’t take a photo.

IF this was some Matrix type thing, and IF I knocked on the car window, I presume he would have told me to go away. Unless I had a password or something. I can’t say Randonaut because that is just a hack to find these places, and nothing more. IF a future Randonaut location provides the same or similar, I will be bold.

6th go, Clyde St. Day time. I got there within 5 minutes, but there was nothing. A regular terrace house with some bamboo and palms in the front yard.

 

*if this become a thing I will do some live ones

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(From the archives, Scotland, 1992…)

 

Weekend off. I eat a big dinner, and have some Santa Claus beer, get drunk, but in control. All in preparation for my first acid trip. At 10 I met Jen and Juanita. Juanita’s nickname is WahWah, but that isn’t really important. We take our Super Mario tabs. Juanita has one, Jenny three (she’s a regular user) and I sensibly take a half. Just to be safe. After an hour nothing has happened, except for a slight tingling sensation, a bit like E. So Jen convinces me to take an extra whole one. Once it had dissolved, she told me that they were double-dipped, meaning I had taken the equivalent of three tabs. So I braced myself. Ga-ga Land arrived, and stayed with me until 5 in full effect.

I sat at a table of women, all strangers except for J and J. And Juanita didn’t stay long, she went around the corner to bug the barman. The tripping took a long time to begin, but when it did, there was no mistaking it. My entire body throbbed, tingled and disassociated itself, moved a few inches sideways. My pulse speeds up, slows down. I start to grin and can’t pull my lips back together. I get paranoid that people will think I’m laughing at them, or that I’ve gone crazy, but the paranoia fades. I start to explore other aspects of the drug. I can’t move my head smoothly, everything jerks, and fills my attention. I can’t look between people, just at each girl, with full on attention. I am fascinated by two of them, and I’ll make up their names. Marna is of Indian descent, is wearing too much make-up, and has a long crooked nose, like a theatrical witch. Sometimes when I look at her, I can see pure evil, she is the devil, I’m not scared. I watch Jackie. She is wearing a beret, and looks like a jazz singer. I am at her command. She knows it, but leaves me be. And then I turn to Jen.

“Are you in?”

“No, it’s just stopped”, and my brain is clear and with it, suddenly straight. I think, oh-oh,

“No, I’m in, it’s starting again”

“Me too, here we go!”, and she grabbed my hand, and we closed our eyes, and sailed over hills and rivers, beautiful countryside. And arced, and dove, she was holding my hand, flying beside me. And then I opened my eyes, and the room started to swirl. I looked deep into Jen’s eyes, the flying movie playing on her pupils. I asked her

“Did we?”

“Of course, you were with me, we flew. It was beautiful.”

And after that, I couldn’t talk anymore. I just sat and let the girls entertain me. They were having conversations, but there was no order in what they said. I rapidly shifted my attention around the table, picking up one word from each girl. These words flowed and matched, made sense and rhymed. A stunning poem formed, the most beautiful I had ever heard, from unconnected dialogues. My mind was juxtaposing time and words, and creating.

That kept me amused for a while. Then I noticed the walls around me. On one was a poster of Frank Zappa. I don’t know his music, but I recognised his face. He was talking to me, telling me that everything was ok, he would guide me thru. He is “somebody”, and I can trust him. He held a finger to his lips, and whispered “shhh”, and I reciprocated. Despite his soothing calm, I began to feel paranoid again. Marna looked as if she was about to bite me. And I really wanted to get to know Jackie better, but my whole body was frozen, it took all my strength just to turn my head. Where was Juanita, she is the only one I can trust. When is this all going to end? I’ve experienced enough. The sights my eyes received were ebbing and flowing, ripples of images, distorted and dressed in lurid colours. I needed Juanita to stop it, and I couldn’t see her. Maybe she had succumbed as well. Jen wouldn’t help me, just ignored me, as if she couldn’t see my distress. Closing my eyes just made it worse, I was trapped, had to endure, but it will never end. I want my old world back. Please, help. Jen was now watching me, but I suspected that she was controlling it all. I struggled to find my feet, where were they? I couldn’t look down, all but my eyes were numb. Trapped.

So I endured, and endured. Then I had a sudden urge to visit the toilet. I had to move, or I’d piss my pants, and there is no way that is going to happen!! I left the table, bypassed my lack of feeling, and just did it. Went to the urinal, but not much came out. Hmmmm. Then I went back to the table, Jen had left, and just sat with all these women who I didn’t know. They had earlier been rather intrigued by me, but now ignored me. I was all alone in the world, family and friends all dead? Endured some more, crying internally. Juanita looked around the corner from the bar, and waved to me. I wanted to cry out, but couldn’t. So I tried telepathy. Please, Juanita, help me. No good, this LSD isn’t as marvellous as I had thought. My pulse began to race too fast, faster than ever before, pushing my heart to the limit, to death. Desperate again, I propelled myself to the bar, and shyly tugged on Juanita’s sleeve.

“Please help me”, I whispered.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be ok”, and she returned her attention to the barman, George.

“I need to go home”, whispering a little louder, I tried commanding her.

“Ok, I’ll see you later”

“No, I need your help, I’m really scared”

She finally realised what was up, took me by the hand, and led me home. I could now talk freely, and when I told her how much I had taken, she understood how I was. We left the alley, and stepped out onto the Mile. It was all black and white!! Like an old movie. Except for the phonebox, which was bright red. I was now viewing a pop video!

“Hey Juanita, look, the phone box is red!”

“Wow, Hack, so it is!”, she looked at me incredulously

And as we walked down our hostel street, still black and white, no, it’s sepia, I saw a mob of angry men, wielding baseball bats, charging up hill towards us, mutely yelling. I paid them no attention, and we entered our home. Hostellers were in our way, legs outstretched, chairs out of position. We just walked straight through them. Hmmm.

“Let’s get you to bed”, said she.

“Thanks, Juanita, you really saved me”. I gave her a big hug, and found myself forcing her into a kiss, she pushed me away. She led me to my dorm, and pushed the door open.

“Goodnight.”

“No, wait. I can’t make it, not alone. You’ll have to walk me to my bed.”

“No fucking way, you can’t fool me, uh-ah.”

“I’m serious. Don’t you trust me, just walk me in, that’s all, then you can go”

“No way.”, and she tried to outstare my sincerity. I was sincere. I was very very scared.

“Ok then, can you help me get to the couch?”, and she led me downstairs.

Sarah was playing pool and offered me a game. I felt fine now, and Juanita left me in Sarah’s hands. “I’m tripping”, I told her, and we both grinned. I broke, and sunk two balls, then missed. My next shot, I chose to just smash the cueball in a random direction. As I did, a large hole opened up in the centre of the table, and three balls fell thru it. I shook my head, and looked at Sarah.

“Good shot, Hack. Helluva fluke though.”

“How many did I sink?”

“Three. All yours too, you lucky bastard.” I checked the little window at the bottom of the table, and sure enough, those balls were there. I can accept hallucinations, no problem. But when they fit into the real world as factual, it’s spooky. I didn’t want to play any more games, so we just sat and chatted. Kathi joined us, and Sarah, after checking that I’d be ok, left us. I then just sat quietly, and forgot how to talk again. Kathi fell asleep on the couch. I was sitting on a hard dining room chair, in the centre of the room. And I just sat there, waiting for the the trip to wear off. Time slowed painfully. Kathi merged into the couch, they oozed into each other, became one, joined at the hip and shoulder. Eeuugghh. I looked at the mural on the wall, and let the hallucinations happen, but they were very boring. There was nothing else to look at, just the wall, and a distorted Kathi. Why was that, the rest of the room was normal, but Kathi had melted. Why? I wish there was a clock. I tried to count minutes, based on my now regular pulse. And as I concentrated, that urge for the toilet returned. I was very desperate, the urine had reached the very end of my penis, and was about to spurt out, I couldn’t hold that muscle taut any longer. If only someone would walk thru the room, I could ask for help. I wasn’ t too proud.

But no-one came. After a forever torture session, I recalled that I should just move, and quit pondering on how. So I just moved, stretched, stood, and moon-stepped to the cubicle. Stood in front, fumbled with my fly. Men know what that feels like, it’s an urgent piss, about to burst, and can’t get your fly open. Well, my hands were completely numb. It was tough. And when I did piss, the flow wouldn’t stop. The tinkle stopped, I could no longer see my urine, but the sensation remained. I was still pissing. I grabbed some toilet paper, and dropped it into the bowl. It didn’t get wet. I wasn’t really pissing. I zipped up, but it felt very wrong.

My world had returned to normal, except that I walked funny, and my body felt spongy, soaked. And Kathi was still melted, like a Dali painting. I looked at her from all angles, the picture remained constant. Too scared to wake her, or wait for her to wake (as a monster?), I went upstairs to reception. And sat solemnly. For hours, lost in a numb state of confusion. Shock maybe. Friends passed, and laughed, I must be play-acting. Mark sat with me.

“Hey Hack, it’s 10:30, time to do sheets. Are you alright?”. I just frowned, with pleading eyes, I couldn’t talk, I was desperately sad and alone.

“So what’s the story, are you going to work?”

“Do you want me to fire you?”. I still couldn’t reply. Shit, my life is disintegrating.

Mark returned to the reception desk, in a bad mood. It took me 10 minutes to snap into it, and I grabbed the list of beds to change, still unable to talk, and went to work.

“Hey Hack, cheer up! And don’t be so rude, ok?”, Mark called out after me. So I did sheets, and then washrooms, incredibly morose, time dragged. There’s no way I’m ever doing acid again, well at least not such a large dose. All day I was rushing to the toilet, only to find that it was a false alarm. This side-effect actually lasted many days, almost two weeks, of thinking that I was pissing my pants, and feeling my jeans to check. Of all the side-effects…..why that one?

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