Like a tattoo horoscope

http://www.sloshspot.com/blog/10-18-2009/21-Awful-Tattoos-and-What-They-Say-About-You-228

Are you from Syria?

I see so many people now with blogs, most of them taking their blogging seriously. Poor fools.

Then we did this, it was good, we decided next to do this, that was good. Here are all of my photos.

Mac. Bare. Us.

Firearms and miscellaneous

This is a collection of the firearms and other various weapons which i have aquired along my travels.








I would be happy to provide captions upon request.

After travelling far and wide, I have just over a week left travelling. Its been an amazing trip, many tattoos, remenising on the STC championship to anyone who will listen, thinking about re joining the Demons cheer club, many life changes ahead. But anyway, many great stories to tell you all however you dont get this shit anywhere else, thats why I love coming home to Melbourne. See you soon. Love Tom

I am not here!

I am not here around whole nacht spin to fuck!

(for those non germanig speakers this is the gist of my previous post)

love to post more now but i have to rouse rouse, everyboby rouse!

Ich bin nicht hier!

Ich bin nicht hier um die ganze nacht spinnen zu ficken!

Tattoo chronicles

I don´t know who keeps putting these travel blogs on my blogspot but I´d appreciate it if they´d stop doing it.

I got bored of my Australian tattoo so I had it removed (a pretty painful experience). Instead I got some others. Just so you dont doubt that they are all me, I should warn you that I've also put on some weight and caved to my star-war fetish, grew a beard, became a psycho and convinced my fat, ugly, criminal dad to `GIT-R-DUN´ and get a tattoo too, then I lost the weight, shaved my beard and my head, had the other tattoos removed (pretty painful once again) and got this alien cracker that I´m now proudly sporting. It´s amazing what being away from Australia can do to you.

SPARE US THE WANKY TRAVEL BLOGS!

Isla del Sol

The sun was born in Bolivia apparently. It was born on this island in Lake Titicaca right next to the island where the moon was born, which is pretty convenient because now tourists can pay to see both in one day (there´s that jaded traveller talking again).

It is the most beautiful island I´ve been to. It´s in the middle of a lake that is so big and such a blue, that every time you look at it it decives you into believing that you´re actually looking at the ocean. The lake is at 3800m above sea level so you realise that the massive snow and glacier capped mountains you´re looking at across the lake on the Bolivia side must be 6000m or well above.

In the northern summer of this year I swam in a mountain stream which we worked out to be about 1800m above sea level, it was so cold it felt violent. On my day walk around the Isla del Sol I took an alternate route and found a secluded rocky bay with a bunch of ledges perfect for jumping and diving from. I was unsure if swimming in such a sacred place was frowned upon. I swam anyway. For my first swim I was by myself and I couldn´t resist the temptation to get into a bit of ´sin ropas´ action (little spanish lesson for y´all). I was too proud of my little discovery so on my return journey I took a couple of canucks and swedes there to share the beauty, ´con ropas´ this time. At twice the altitude of the canadian stream the water this time was violently pleasant.

Great day, probably my best day yet. Waiting on some pics from my company on the return journey. I just ripped these ones off the internet.

Me and my Bo-stars

I´ve had feedback from my blog suggesting that I´m not having a great time and I realise that this latest blog probably reeks of lyrical similarity. I am having a good time, this is an amazing place, as miserable as I might sound I´m not able to bring myself down. Me and my tat (which I´ve named bo-star, an amalgam of bogan stars) are doing fine. Thanks for your concern.

Hippy bell-ends

I just arrived in La Paz. It´s the most spectacular layout for a city I´ve ever seen. Built into a steep valley with massive mountains all around, the suburbs on either wall of the valley appear like blocks of lego rammed into a near veritical cliff. Surrounded by all this coolness, all that I seem to notice is that proportionately, there are that many more tragic hippy bell-end types here than any place I´ve been before. Does anyone have a shirt that says ¨You cant snort wisdom... Dickhead!¨? I´d give it a run.