Thirteen Percent Punk (me, Klare Lanson and Alicia Sometimes) toured New Zealand recently, going all round those two adorable islands. First we had Church in the Christ, a fairly dull city, but then we went 'buck wild' in Dunedin, a fantastic city. Then to Milford Sound, where we saw the most beautiful mountains, with slashes of white snow glowing fluorescent on perfect sunlit days. This is where Captain Cook first sailed through on his discovery tour. We decided all he could say while gliding through the terrific mountains and lush, thick rainforest was, 'Get fucked... Get fucking fucked.'
Then on to ORC-land for a gig at 'Poetry Live' and meeting the very talented poetry community, including the charismatic Michael Rudd. We stayed in a hotel room that smelt like train. Then on to Wellington, where I made the mistake of saying on stage: 'Allo, Wello'. The highlight, however, was most certainly OUT THERE -- the Paekakariki Satellite Fringe. We stayed with Hinemoana Baker and Chris White, two stupidly talented women, who made us homemade everything which we ate on their magical wind filled balcony. We performed in the hall downtown, swam in the ocean, changed our clothes a thousand times, listened to haunting versions of Indigo Girls songs, rocked out in Tyree's Van, and spoke of art, celebrities, health and blueberries. Then, on the final night Sean M Whelan and the Mime Set turned up and turned on the heat, and blew the house down, big bad wolf style. The band was on fire, Sam sang like Bjork if she'd swallowed a sexy cat, and Sean's poetry hit everyone in their hearts like a tequila slammer of text. It was wild. Then we all drank ourselves into 4am, when we caught our plane home. Ahh.
The stupidly cool Sean M Whelan
Dunedin, a back street.
Te Anau, veiw from the hotel room. (post spa)
Tyree in her rock van.
The Mime Set, giving it to Welli.
Sean M. Whelan with a small audience (literally)
The air-punch Mayor
The view from the kitchen window, in Pie, 4am.
The glowing Hinemoana Baker, my long lost Auntie.
Someone jumps from the tower in Auckland, I almost did this too. NOT.
Sam from the Mime Set
3 Australian poets go 'buck wild' in Dunedin.
Backstage at the hall in Pie.
Fronstage, performing Fannyism. 
Klare Lanson, electric geisha kaoss.
Alicia Sometimes, talking about masturbation. She is a sexy goddess of the Engish language.
This is Christian, host of Poetry Live. The weekly poetry night in Auckland
I want to eat every meal here.
In Wellington, where massive stone men eat their electricity
David Bowie, open, I tried to buy this: 'no way' said the record shop nerd.
oh come on...
Get Fucked!
Random cows. (just 20)
In picturesque paradise I take a picture of Klare taking a picture of herself.
Get fucking fucked!
and then, we saw seals!