hitchhikers guide to the funny farm

Driving from Ocho Rios to Montego Bay turned into quite the adventure
Our driver slash interpreter slash newest best buddy’s name was a little hard to pronounce because we’re a bunch of slowies
It sounded kinda like’Antsman’. So we, of course, called him ‘Pantsman’, which eventually became ‘PM’

PM’s van was best described as questionable. It looked to be a death trap needing a bit of work. Cosmetically and under the hood.
So when we blew a tyre, we weren’t really surprised 
We were just happy the van stayed upright
And we weren’t short on company. Nearly every car that drove past us, stopped to see if we needed help. If you’ve been to Jamaica, you know that the kindness of the people there is something that you don’t necessarily experience in other parts of the world.
AND they put rum in EV-ER-EE-THING! It’s enough to make you love the shit out of the place. Which I do.
We were good though with the car trouble though. PM got to work on the tyre changing. Dad was the official torch holder / light source. Mum and I assisted as best we could. By staying out of the way taking photos and flashing our bums at passing cars.

I mean, here we were, on the side of an unlit road, at 1am, with a van full of liquored up musicians…no worries, right?
We giggled. I may have wet my pants. Not much though. But I do tend to go into fits of laughter when I’m nervous. My bladder is pretty much it’s own boss once I start cracking up.
I remember one time in Australia, calling the police because someone was trying to break into my house – and they hung up on me because I couldn’t stop laughing. It turned out OK though. I may have wet my pants that time too. Turns out wee is a pretty effective burglar repellant.
The tyre eventually got changed. PM swapped it out with an equally dodgy looking spare.
And how did that turn out, you ask?
Fuck knows
By that stage, the car battery was dead  
And we were too drunk to care.

jamaican-me-ugly

This photo was taken a couple of days ago in Jamaica
I’d just finished filming the cooking segment (for Rhythms & Roots) and my mouth had almost recovered
It was a spicy snapper dish – and as someone who doesn’t even put pepper on her food
That shit caused a four alarm fire in the hole in my face. Eyes watered, nose ran….the works
So the nice lady at the restaurant made me a fresh fruit juice to cool down my mouth
She was a bit lovely
And had no idea that I’m allergic to pineapple.
So you can guess what was in the drink right?
I was a tear stained, puffy faced spunk-rat by the time it was all over
But was happy to be feeling almost 100% by the time this pic (of me doing my best Zoolander) was taken
But I obviously missed having a fugly face
Because about 30 seconds after striking a pose, I unceromoniously lost my footing, and face planted into the rock

I’m too sexy….
To be upright

hit pic, may 21, twenty twelve

You know how when you go away somewhere, and there’s all those little tourist shops everywhere? All of them with variations of the same souvenirs.
They sell t-shirts, ashtrays, shot glasses, key rings.
A lot of it….well, really MOST of it, is cheap tacky stuff.

Do you ever look at it all and think, who the hell buys any of this shit? 
There’s your answer.