Despite them being incredibly pleasurable, you'd have to be a wack-job to purchase a head massage. The social situation is too bizarre. Paying a random to stroke your skull; you have to be able to look at yourself in the mirror.
Over the course of my life I've committed numerous vapes, I've also punched out my fair share of durries. In this sense, I am speaking from a place of knowledge and authority when I say that vaping is better than durrying in every way. Every way. Cheaper, healthier, you can rip them indoors at house parties, visually appealing, pleasant scent, smoke billows everywhere, annoying futuristic aesthetic.
This is Sugar's the new durries final blog post.
I was in a bit of a hurry on my way to work Monday, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket loosely, dropping it hard on the pavement. The screen wouldn't turn on. It was done. I wasn't overly disappointed to be fair - the screen was already cracked, it was slowing up and I have my work phone to contact people with. I'll sort out a new headset this weekend.
I worked Monday and taxied to the airport at about 4pm to board the 5:30 flight to Perth. I landed in Perth after a 4 hour trip at 6:30pm local time.
I had a ridiculous schedule on my hands, I was staying in rural WA, 2 hours south of Perth in a town called Bunbury (?). I asked the lady at the airport car rental place whether she knew where Bunbury was, she stared at me blankly and said yes. I asked her if the car had a GPS, she told me it had.
By the time I had the key to my flash as Holden off the Budget car rental people it was getting dark; it was 7:30pm Perth time now and I had to make my way out of the city. Thankfully Australia is 30% richer than New Zealand and consequently has an unbelievable infrastructure network, it was motorways straight out of town.
Following an uneventful stop for fast food, I rolled into "Bunbury" circa 10pm, 1am Melbourne time; it'd been a long day. I was surprised to find that despite never having heard of it personally, Bunburry was sizeable; not dissimilar in scale to Palmerston North. It made me reflect on my encounter with the lady that I rented the car off - asking if she knew where Bunbury was. It's the equivalent of landing late in the day in Auckland in a dishevelled state and asking the staff if they've ever heard of Hamilton.
I'm nothing if not durable, but I was shattered by the time I'd talked my way into the hotel carpark and tracked my room down. I had a shower and set my alarm clock for 6:30, I had an early start. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I'm shocked awake by an alarm. Man it's loud. I pick up my phone - nope that's not buzzing. It does confirm that it's 3am though! My mind's a blur. Where's that noise coming from?
My sense of sound tracks it to my overnight bag. It's the phone that I'd written off as dead 23 hours earlier! The screen's still dead, but it's alarm is miraculously alive! How do I stop it?
I push the home button. The noise vanishes. I fall asleep peacefully once more.
The 3:03 alarm hits!
I'd dropped the bloody phone next to my bed, so finding it wasn't the struggle it had been three minutes earlier, but I was beginning to worry that I was merely snoozing the alarm rather than stopping it.
Sure enough, 3:06 arrives and the phone's alight once more. It's so loud. I have to put an end to this snooze cycle. I realise that it's 6am Melbourne time, and that this was simply my daily alarm - my former phone's remaining feature. What was I going to do?
I rationalised that I'd already mentally depreciated the phone to nil, so why not completely destroy it? There appeared no other way to stop this chaos - but how?
I walked over to the kitchenette and began walloping it with a large sturdy kitchen knife and then doused it with the tap... Surely?
Nope. 3:09. I push the home button again.
I'm red in the face and have 3 minutes until the next explosion.
I walk into the bathroom, find a plug and begin running the sink. It can't plausibly withstand a full submersion.
I clasp the phone in my palm and hold the headset beneath the water for a good minute. I feel like I'm drowning kittens. It was an intelligent entity that I'd spent the past year relying on and protecting - I was now wilfully asphyxiating it. It was hard to bring myself to do, but I'd done it. Please God...
Unbelievable! I thought I was durable - my phone was harder to kill than Rob Hewitt.
Then a thought washed over me like the swell off Mana Island; take the sim out! Deprogram the Samsung. Trawling through the kitchenette once more, I realised that my time in Australia had come full circle.
For the second time in six months, I was topless in a strange multi-unit dwelling unsuccessfully attempting to eject the sim from my phone with a corkscrew. It's a motherfucking sequel.
With my phone finally subdued, I walk back to my suitcase, extract my vaporiser and wander out onto the creepy hotel balcony. There is no point in attempting another sleep. I'd woken half a hotel and now I was smoking robot durries at 3am. At least I hadn't bought a head massage. The flavour that I'm slowly ingesting is called Pudding. It's as stodgy as it sounds.
As I released vaporised pudding steam into the atmosphere orally, I thought about the sequel. I realised that durries were verging on obsolete. Vaping is completely dope and it's netflixing the shit out of Marlboro's blockbuster. Not only had my tales of pain, violence and struggle come to an organic conclusion, the blog's title no longer makes sense in today's world. Did it ever make sense? It's time for a hiatus.
Thanks for reading Sugar's the new durries, I'm really proud of it. We started and finished from the bottom now we're here.