Profile for AdamJ:
Just another Pom...
Been living in Oz for about 6 months now after moving here to live with my girlfriend. Originally came from Birmingham. While I love the place and miss it loads, I live next to the beach. 'nuff said.
I live here:
Not actually on the beach mind, that'd be silly.
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Best answers to questions:
- a member for 19 years, 3 months and 1 day
- has posted 68 messages on the main board
- has posted 6 messages on the talk board
- has posted 1 messages on the links board
- has posted 4 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
- They liked 10 pictures, 1 links, 0 talk posts, and 3 qotw answers.
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Just another Pom...
Been living in Oz for about 6 months now after moving here to live with my girlfriend. Originally came from Birmingham. While I love the place and miss it loads, I live next to the beach. 'nuff said.
I live here:
Not actually on the beach mind, that'd be silly.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Airport Stories
6 months wait for a VISA application and for what...???!!!
This isn't about flying per-say, more about the bits around the outside like passports, VISAs, etc. But whatever.
Roll back about 6-7 months to mid-2005, England. It was during this time my Aussie Girlfriend was beginning to sort out my VISA application so I could go live in Oz with her. We were aiming to fly back to Oz around January 2006, because of her various commitments to university, etc. Anyway, during the next 6-7 months I was nearly driven insane by the sheer mound of red-tape that you have to fight through to obtain a VISA. My girlfriend was a mite panicky because of her Uni work, and I was pissed because I had to quit my job early (and struggle financially the next month or so) because of the stupid amount of tests and medicals I had to do. I wasn't even given a time frame in which to expect my VISA to be completed by, therefore I couldn't seriously plan more than two weeks ahead for anything.
Anyway, fast forward to 3 weeks ago. I get off the plane passport in hand with my VISA stamp proudly showing, acutely aware of the pains I had to go through trying to get it.
I hand it to the airport guard who looks at my picture briefly, and doesn't even have a fleeting glance at my VISA. They didn't even inspect the freaking luggage for imported goods. I could be carrying a herd of rabid welsh morris dancing sheep in there for all they knew.
I was so incredibly tempted to cram my hard-fought VISA application to a painful place downunder.
The actual flight over was a complete bore mind you. Even Dubai was boring, it was pouring with rain and the airport was a building site, so it pretty much looked like my home town of Birmingham. And 23-25 hours of basically nothing to do on the plane except watch old reruns of Little Britain. Urrggghhhhhhhh....
EDIT: Oh, I forgot to mention. The night before we were to fly off, they showed the film "Final Destination". Everybody in the house was watching it, dispite knowing I have a massive phobia of flying. Gee, thanks everybody!
(Tue 7th Mar 2006, 14:00, More)
6 months wait for a VISA application and for what...???!!!
This isn't about flying per-say, more about the bits around the outside like passports, VISAs, etc. But whatever.
Roll back about 6-7 months to mid-2005, England. It was during this time my Aussie Girlfriend was beginning to sort out my VISA application so I could go live in Oz with her. We were aiming to fly back to Oz around January 2006, because of her various commitments to university, etc. Anyway, during the next 6-7 months I was nearly driven insane by the sheer mound of red-tape that you have to fight through to obtain a VISA. My girlfriend was a mite panicky because of her Uni work, and I was pissed because I had to quit my job early (and struggle financially the next month or so) because of the stupid amount of tests and medicals I had to do. I wasn't even given a time frame in which to expect my VISA to be completed by, therefore I couldn't seriously plan more than two weeks ahead for anything.
Anyway, fast forward to 3 weeks ago. I get off the plane passport in hand with my VISA stamp proudly showing, acutely aware of the pains I had to go through trying to get it.
I hand it to the airport guard who looks at my picture briefly, and doesn't even have a fleeting glance at my VISA. They didn't even inspect the freaking luggage for imported goods. I could be carrying a herd of rabid welsh morris dancing sheep in there for all they knew.
I was so incredibly tempted to cram my hard-fought VISA application to a painful place downunder.
The actual flight over was a complete bore mind you. Even Dubai was boring, it was pouring with rain and the airport was a building site, so it pretty much looked like my home town of Birmingham. And 23-25 hours of basically nothing to do on the plane except watch old reruns of Little Britain. Urrggghhhhhhhh....
EDIT: Oh, I forgot to mention. The night before we were to fly off, they showed the film "Final Destination". Everybody in the house was watching it, dispite knowing I have a massive phobia of flying. Gee, thanks everybody!
(Tue 7th Mar 2006, 14:00, More)
» Unexpected Good Fortune
I used to live in a boring suburb of Birmingham...
...until I moved to Australia with my Aussie GF. I now live in Sydney, right next to Maroubra beach. Life is sweet. We just bought the most comfortable couch ever, and I have a cute white puddy-cat again. Love teh fluffs.
(Fri 15th Sep 2006, 14:11, More)
I used to live in a boring suburb of Birmingham...
...until I moved to Australia with my Aussie GF. I now live in Sydney, right next to Maroubra beach. Life is sweet. We just bought the most comfortable couch ever, and I have a cute white puddy-cat again. Love teh fluffs.
(Fri 15th Sep 2006, 14:11, More)
» School fights
Silly! Boots don't go in shower!
First year of senior school, and my so-called friend, a kid called Robert (who was a lanky hyperactive idiot on reflection) decided it would be funny to throw my only pair of school shoes into the gym showers thoroughly soaking them through.
Note I pride myself on my long fuse. However, being the typical short guy (5'6" - 7" now at age 24, munchkin sized then), my temper when it blows tends to err on the side of "nuclear".
I sat back down next to him plesantly smiling congratulating him on said funny prank whilst the rest of the class laughed. Now, I never did fight cleanly. Probably something to do with being the "repressed" short guy. Anyway, as he was doing his shoelaces on the bench, I promptly punched him in the small of his back making his head rebound off his knee. After reeling from that, he then decided to injure himself as well by headbutting the clothes pegs above on his return bounce. He cried like a little kid and despite being pacifist in nature, this was so funny it made my sides hurt. I think the teacher even found it quite humourous... (he still gave me a bollocking though)
(Sun 12th Mar 2006, 3:42, More)
Silly! Boots don't go in shower!
First year of senior school, and my so-called friend, a kid called Robert (who was a lanky hyperactive idiot on reflection) decided it would be funny to throw my only pair of school shoes into the gym showers thoroughly soaking them through.
Note I pride myself on my long fuse. However, being the typical short guy (5'6" - 7" now at age 24, munchkin sized then), my temper when it blows tends to err on the side of "nuclear".
I sat back down next to him plesantly smiling congratulating him on said funny prank whilst the rest of the class laughed. Now, I never did fight cleanly. Probably something to do with being the "repressed" short guy. Anyway, as he was doing his shoelaces on the bench, I promptly punched him in the small of his back making his head rebound off his knee. After reeling from that, he then decided to injure himself as well by headbutting the clothes pegs above on his return bounce. He cried like a little kid and despite being pacifist in nature, this was so funny it made my sides hurt. I think the teacher even found it quite humourous... (he still gave me a bollocking though)
(Sun 12th Mar 2006, 3:42, More)
» Join us... come join the cult
Well, we chanted crap like "McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentuky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut"
The scouts is probably the only "cult" like organisation I've ever been in.
That was such a waste of time though. The scout leader (who was a bent copper who we found out was also a full-time thief) had us nearly every week playing "Bulldog" AKA "beat up the little kids" for an hour. I'll never forget almost removing a kid of his ability to sire children despite being one of those 'little kids'.
Ahh... revenge.
(Thu 26th Jan 2006, 19:00, More)
Well, we chanted crap like "McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentuky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut"
The scouts is probably the only "cult" like organisation I've ever been in.
That was such a waste of time though. The scout leader (who was a bent copper who we found out was also a full-time thief) had us nearly every week playing "Bulldog" AKA "beat up the little kids" for an hour. I'll never forget almost removing a kid of his ability to sire children despite being one of those 'little kids'.
Ahh... revenge.
(Thu 26th Jan 2006, 19:00, More)