The following is a recap of my schoolies experience as I best remember it. Make note that a sheer majority of the time spent on this trip I was intoxicated or not in a general normal state of mind, so any mistakes or omissions are not done on purpose.

So as it stands Calvin and myself were to depart for this trip on the Monday morning, to a house rented out in Rye by our good friend Daniel. Ricky, Andrew, Janet, Oliver, Daniel, Carlos, his girlfriend Mel and her friend Alysse had already arrived on the previous Friday and by the sounds of things were ripping the shit up and having a great time. Hung, Alan, Leeven and some others were also heading up the same day as us, though we expected them to get there much later in the day.  Here’s an excerpt from the conversation I had with Hernadz the night before we left.

Daniel: “Yeah man we’re at a new house now, we got kicked out of the first one.”

Tim: “Are you serious??”

Daniel: “Yeah Ricky was singing too loudly.”

Oh this is definitely sounding like my kind of trip. I ended up staying up stupidly late that night as I packed my bag and worked out the plan to reach our destination. The two of us had the misfortune of taking public transport all the way to Rye, so that was in itself going to be an adventure. Rye was never to be the same again.

DAY ONE

It’s like 8 AM in the morning. 8 fucking AM. School has been over for quite a large quantity of time and I had thoroughly gotten used to staying up till 3AM and then sleeping during the daytime. So seeing as I woke before people playing golf, this was not exactly a pristine start to the day. Eventually I get my stuff together and leave the house. We pick up Calv, and head towards Caulfield station. Having meticulously planned our trip we need to get their on time. Believe it or not it will take us the majority of the day to get to the house. We need to take a train to Frankston and then a bus from Frankston station right up to Rye. To top it off the day is hot, and we’re lugging suitcases. Fantastic. Our plans almost immediately get dashed when the train rocks up 15 minutes late. We sit down before we hear this.

Station PA system: “Crack Fizzle run doo dah rumbe de esta bano latte”

That’s nowhere near what it said but it was still incomprehensible. The general gist being though, this train isn’t going to leave for a long time. I figured out exactly why they did that. That was to give all the people sitting in the various carriages time to ponder; this train is going to Frankston.

Frankston.

Ok to be fair I had never traveled to the stabbing capital of Victoria, and was just judging it on the various stories I had heard. Maybe it wasn’t going to be that bad. After what was probably close to an hour spent waiting for the train and then waiting for the train to move we finally started going. Then the beeping started. This might sound small but it was insane. We’re on this train packed with people talking loudly, on a day where the heat is oppressive, and then out of nowhere this sound repeats and repeats. I was honestly getting ready to throw myself from the train.

As we neared the final station some guy hobbled past us and began to talk to another guy near the front of the carriage. He was no doubt buying drugs. Or guns. Probably both. So we get off the train and it’s still hot, though Frankston station didn’t seem thaaaaat bad. Although they were playing classical music over the sound system. I imagine that’s to try and stop the punch ups. So we get out and check our bus, which doesn’t come for a good twenty minutes. There seems to be quite a number of old people waiting for the same bus, so we decide to cross the road and get something to eat.

We decide on this normal looking café and order some burgers. It has to be noted that the lady who owned the place reminded me of that Asian mum from the Rob Schneider movie and the other girl who worked their had a face that is best described as unfortunate.

So we wait and wait for our simply burgers to come, and wouldn’t you know it the bus arrives. God. So Calvin walks over in order to distract and chat with the driver while I wait for our burgers. And wait. I can’t even get their attention because both the ladies have disappeared into the back. As the driver gets on the bus we can wait no longer and we have to ditch our burgers. Shoulders slumping in dismay I cross the road and board the bus. We take our seats and lo and behold the lady strides from the shop as the vehicle pulls out. We can do little but look at the lady who looks like she fell from a distance onto her face, waving the bags containing our burgers which we paid for and received nothing, cursing our misfortune.

It gets better; the bus trip is long and arduous. Not only does it take hours, but the heat is ever present and the people who board with us can best be described as fucked up. There’s one bloke who hops on, sits up the back with me and Calv and starts drinking cougars. At about 11 in the morning. His grizzled face and tattoo’s indicate to me if I ask he would indeed be able to give me directions to the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

People dwindle off the bus and eventually its just us and these Asian tourists looking for a national park. We consult the map that we had drawn on a bit of paper and eventually decide to get off. Bad idea. Turns out we need to walk the entirety of this long ass road with no footpath. Plus I had one of those bags with the wheels, which persisted in continually falling over. Luckily some lady walking her dog overhears us and directs us in the right direction. That or to a trap where we will be raped and killed. But no we follow the road and suddenly hear voices we know. Turning the corner we reach our destination. Fina fucking ly. As we shake hands and greet our friends it comes to our attention that Hung and his compatriots had beaten us there. In a trip which was simply and pain free. Damnit.

The ugliness of the proceedings previous were soon forgotten though due to a number of factors. One, the house was mad. I wasn’t expecting much to be honest, but it was nicely furnished, there was at least three toilets, and to top it off a nice sound system and television set. Two, food. I was pretty much thinking that when a bunch of guys were staying together, we would be eating alcohol for lunch and alcohol for dinner. And maybe some BBQ shapes for breakfast. But as soon as we walk in Mel is cooking a massive load of fried bacon and other mad stuff. Excellent. Three, well three is quite a humerous story. Ricky advised me to question Tofu about an incident, so I did.

Tim: “Andrew what is Ricky on about?”

Andrew: “Well we were at the beach yesterday, and I was really dying to take a dump.”

I can associate with my friends problem. No one likes to hang a number two when they’re away from their own toilet. It’s like the home ground.

Tim: “So what did you do?”

Andrew: “ Well I kind of ran up and went in these bushes.”

Ricky: “He took a shit under the boardwalk at the beach!”

Oh man that’s some funny ass shit. No pun intended.

Tim: “So what did you wipe on leaves or something?”

Andrew: “Nah I kinda just walked back to the ocean…”

My oh my. What’s even funnier is that we proceeded to go to the beach almost straight away, and figured out that if Tofu had just ventured up the boardwalk he would have found the public toilets. Ahh well when you gotta go you gotta go. So anyway were walking towards the beach, which isn’t far at all, whilst someone discusses the final of Australian Idol, which had been on TV the previous night. In particular about the girl who was the runner up.

Someone: “Did you know that the Jessica girl is half aboriginal?”

[Everyone looks at Tim]

Someone: “Why is everyone looking at Tim?”

Ricky: “Because he’s going to make a racist joke.”

I did my best to look indignant. I’m not racist. I can resist the temptation to say things that are hilarious, yet hurtful when I need to.

Tim: “Only half? Does that mean she only goes to centrelink every second week?”

At that point someone hit me. Which is fair enough. I’m not racist really, I just couldn’t resist the opportunity. So we arrive at the beach and the waves are full on crazy. This will be important later. Anyway turns out we brazenly walked past this massive ass sign that says “Don’t swim here!” and other crap. So we get to the beach and there’s a bunch of weird people there. This group of bogan’s who are digging a hole, which is pretty common at the beach.

But with a fucking shovel?

I find that pretty odd. No doubt they had caught the earlier bus from Frankston and were disposing of a dead body. Also there were these girls sunbaking, and one, well one was topless. Let me tell you it was a hideous sight. Her face was oddly rat like, and he chest region was shall we say in the negative regions. It also looked like she took a perverse thrill in harming our eyes. Eugh. So Ricky and the others set about explaining the game they invented.

Ricky: “It’s called strongest man. We all stand in a line in the massive waves and see who can avoid getting dunked.”

The words strongest man still send a chill down my spine. We played, and there were some truly colossal spills. I’m not a fan of the sea that much, particularly because of an incident that happened at Year 10 camp. These waves though kicked some ass and at various points we all ate the dust hard. One time me and Calvin were pushed together in a hellacious tangle of pain. Another time I was uprooted so badly that not only did I just about swallow a quarter of the ocean but my bathing suit damn near came off. Rest assured I made sure it was securely tied after that one.

You may be wondering about the title of this very post. Well its genesis comes from this day at the beech. Hien and Francis set about burying Leevan in the sand, almost to the point where her head was the only thing sticking out of the ground. Of course, someone made a Bukkake joke. As we laughed and jeered we kept repeating the word. You ever realised what a nice ring it has to it? Thus it became our catchphrase and was mentioned at many inappropriate times during the trip. That’s why the entire thing was branded the mighty “Bukkake 06”

After hours of throwing the gridiron and daring to try and fight the ocean we headed home and bade the itty bitty titty committee good day.

I believe it was after the beach that Hernadz, Mel, Alysse and myself drove to pick up food and the most valuable of all commodities. Alcohol. Me and Daniel managed to pull a shifty by getting a slab, but slipping four packs of the more expensive brands into the box. Booh yah. Dinner was a nicely prepared BBQ, which went down without incident. It was mighty nice though. We eventually made our way out on to the balcony outside, where we drank and pretty much shot the shit. Which is always very enjoyable. Oliver had picked up his guitars earlier in the day when he had dropped Janet off at the station, and he does a mean version of James Morrisons “This Boy”. He attempted to impart some knowledge to Tofu and Ricky but failed to teach the noobs anything. As we talked music, there came a defining conversation.

Calvin: “Did you know that one of the Ying Yang Twins is retarded?”

Oliver: “No shit?”

Calvin: “Yeah its true. One of his hands is like paralyse as well.”

Now it makes sense. Listen to one of their songs. It’s not a stretch of the imagination by any means to consider the group as containing spastics. We all then did our best impersonations of the Whisper song. This included horrible role plays like this.

Ying Yang Twin 1: “Man we need a song.”

Ying Yang Twin 2: “HAAAAANHHH”

Ying Yang Twin 1: “That’s brilliant.”

It was fast becoming apparent that I may have drank a little more than the others. That or I was feeling it more. Whatever the reason what came next was funny. Friends of Ricky’s randomly rocked up at the house. Now being slightly intoxicated and pretty lazy I didn’t bother to really acknowledge them. They talked for a bit and then were readying to leave. One of them noticed the guitars then.

randomGirl: “I play guitar.”

Group: “Play! You need to play!”

randomGirl: “Well I can only play a little bit…I’m not very good.”

Group: “It doesn’t matter just play.”

[Girl strums guitar for a moment]

Tim: “What…the…fuck…was….that?”

You only play a little bit? Oh no…you don’t play at all. I do believe we all burst out laughing at the genuine lack of talent and my open disgust. The night takes a sudden turn as the effects hit me and my memory is reduced to selections of moments. Alysse had some friends come around that we tended to ignore. Not because we’re rude but just because we were wrapped up in doing other shit. Tofu displayed his sheer talent with the portable beer bong. I have no doubt explained it in other posts. It fits in your pocket, you can skull drinks with intense speed, Oliver is brilliant for making it and that’s all you need to know. Tofu is no doubt the fastest at it in the entire world. This means that we stupidly tried to race each other and our slab was decimated faster than you can say “Where the fuck are the drinks?”

We did however have some mixer drinks. Namely Midori and Kahlua. See let us examine why now I have taste aversion to milk flavoured alcohol jokes. Including one of my former favourites the cowboy shot. Enter Dr Cal. We made our way out onto the front balcony and proceeded to shoot more shit. Calvin gives me this drink he has made which mixes natural confectionary soda and Midori. I taste it. It is freaking awesome. Like really tastes nice. So nice in fact that upon finishing it I slam the glass down with emphasis on the deck and it shatters. Hoo Rah.

The next creation…well that didn’t go down well at all. It introduced Milo and Kahlua. I’m not necessarily a fan of that drink but well I’ll drink whatever. Though whether due to a mission to harm me or just a miscalculation in the creative process this drink was an abomination. Way to much alcohol not enough Milo and it just burnt the whole way down. It was nearly enough to make me chunder. Not quite though. Oh no it takes something special to make me do that.

The night was winding down, but not before one more humerous interaction. At some junction a friend of Alysse came outside, as they prepared to go for a late night walk to the beach. Being the drunken fool I usually am I may have said some stupid shit borderline racist. I do believe my friends told me to shut up, not expecting how this guy we didn’t know would react. He turned, regarded me for a second, and then came back with a hilarious joke in the same vein I was getting at. We couldn’t have been more similar if we tried.

Ladies and Gentlemen meet future Tim.

The nights festivities ended we went to bed, and that’s a story in itself. In the one room we had two bunk beds and one mattress in the floor on the middle. Ricky took bottom bunk on the left bed, Oliver the top and the other bed was Calv on top and me on the bottom. Andrew and Hernadz shared the mattress in the middle. That’s taking one for the team. We spoke some more, I think I offended someone and then we dropped off into a deep sleep. This was only the begging. The next day…the next day was when it all happened. During the night this happened however.

Calv: “Tim man you awake?”

[Tim awake]

Tim: “Uhh yeah?”

Calv: “Man listen to Daniel snoring.”

Woke me up to discuss snoring. Funny shit.

DAY TWO

Something special was in the air this morning as we awoke. Little did we know this day would end up defining us for a number of reasons. Ricky Oliver and myself went for a ride to the shops in the morning to pick up some supplies for breakfast. Note that this was probably about 11 in the morning.

Ricky: “This stuff should make a good breakfast.”

checkoutMole: “Your only having breakfast now?!”

Uh yes. Yes we are. Anyway we further discussed and turns out lots of people in the area had been buying alcohol. Not surprising at all. Seeing as Oliver was kind enough to drive up, he explained about his new title. The DK. Have you seen Tokyo Drift? It’s pretty funny without meaning to be. The DK refers to Drift King. This title was emplaced upon O because of his ability to drift. Around one turn. Into our driveway. This led to discussions about the ability to sort out problems with a drift race.

Tim: “You just beat me in a drift race? That’s it. Lets settle this with a Drift Race.”

After breakfast is a little hazy to me. I’m pretty sure we just played video games and chilled. We had a super smash bros tournament and I schooled everybody. Comes with the trade people. I forgot to mention things about the beach. The weather of course was pretty warm, and seeing as we went to the beach everyday people got decisively sunburnt. Carlos had these red ass burns all over his arms which meant he had this tanned on singlet. How awesome. So we moseyed on down to the beach again for the second day. This time Daniel brought a surfboard. The waves looked pretty crazy, so we decided maybe it wasn’t a great idea to tangle with them. Instead we went for a walk to see how far up the beach went. Oliver, Calvin, Andrew, Ricky, Daniel and myself walked right past a sign which told people not to walk past. Not for the last time that day. There was a guy fishing. Ricky asked him if he had caught anything. He had not.

So we’re ambling up and we eventually come across this massive looking rock thing. There is this old couple walking near us and the lady wants to cross this bit of water but doesn’t want to get her feet wet. Cue lover boy,

Ricky: “I could lie down and you can walk across my back.”

It was a joke…but it sure was disturbing. So we mucked around in this Pirates of the Caribbean looking thing which Daniel and Calvin eventually climbed. Turns out Calvin took a piss up there as well. Take that mother nature. Further exploring brought nothing of note. Eventually Andrew took off heading back to the others. His sun tan was getting extreme. So extreme I kept mistaking him for Oliver. We soon followed. What became apparent was that the waves while previously being crazy were now homicidal, scary, forces of death. I didn’t like standing on the beach looking at them that’s how bad.

Tim: “That looks fucked up.”

Ricky: “Strongest man time!”

It took about ten minutes but we eventually all decided to go into the water. Bad move. Stupid fucking move. I’m sitting here writing this and I get a little chill in my stomach. We were standing in ankle high water and it was tugging really badly. So of course we start to get dropped by these waves, and its worse than it was yesterday. Way worse. That’s why it’s also pretty funny. We all hit the deck multiple times. At one point Oliver fell, and then getting to his feet fell again. We laughed heartily.

Then he fell again, and again, and by the time our laughs were fully muted we could tell he was in trouble. He was very far our and although he was pretty much silent he was trying to move forward but couldn’t. I was suddenly scared. Very scared. There’s nothing worse, and I mean nothing worse than not being able to do something to help someone you care about. We all ran to the beach to see what we can do about getting some aid for O. At the same time Carlos and Daniel start to swim as hard as they can towards me. Let me paint a picture of the fucktards at the beach who did absolutely nothing to help us.

There are these two fags looking out at the water and commenting to each other. They have both clearly seen O and one even pointed at him. Ricky runs to them and asks if they’re strong swimmers. Both say no and keep talking.

There’s this dickwad with his ugly girlfriend. Dickwad is on the phone to one of his asshole friends. He appears to smile at some point while not even pausing to ask us if we need aid.

Ricky sets a fast pace as he runs up the boardwalk to this lifesaving type club. It is shut. We try and go higher up, as my heart is pumping and I still feel as helpless as all hell. Then I notice something truly great. A surfer is out there and he’s right near Oliver. He’s going to help. It’s as if a great weight is lifted off my shoulders. Then I hear more shouts. I look closer and notice that Carlos has returned to the shore, obviously utterly exhausted and looking dejected. The bad thing now is that Daniel is also now stuck. Jesus Christ.

That’s courage. True courage. Carlos and Daniel tried their very best to save Oliver, and went as far to put themselves at risk. Despite their best efforts though Daniel is now in a lot of trouble. Ricky keeps franticly searching the boardwalk, when after what seems like hours another surfer comes and helps Daniel. Soon both Oliver and Daniel make it back to the beach safe and sound. Both are obviously stunned and rightly so. If it wasn’t for those surfers…well hell who knows what would have happened. We all quickly try and comfort each other before we head home silent and ever so dejected. Dickwad continues to talk on his phone. Hope his girlfriend fucking broke up with him.

We make it home and let the others know what happened. The house is sent into stunned silence. It was so god damn bad. It got better though. We all showered, regrouped and soon everyone was ok. It was unanimously decided the ocean was the strongest man. Through the wire came on the stereo. I started to sing through the rip. It was official. As a collective we had bounced back. Fuck mother nature.