Helen took me to Featherdale Wildlife Park during the day, where I got to see kangaroos, wallabies, dingos, koalas, skinks, Tasmanian Devils (well, one of them), and a kick-ass bird called a Tawny Frogmouth (which looks like a bad Hollywood special effect... seriously). Basically, the day at the park was me trying to get a wallaby to attack me, to no avail. Even the threat of eating one of their larger cousins did nothing to spring them into a frenzied action.
At night, Helen, Adam, Alex and I went to a comedy show featuring (egad) four Americans, a Canadian (who, ironically, lives in my neighborhood back in the US), and two Aussies. Two of the Americans and one of the Aussies were gut-busters (Tony Woods, in particular), but every act was entertaining (save the second American, who sucked balls... I'll remember his name at some point and post a warning).
Right before I said "I'll eat your face, motherfucker!" And to no response.
Climb. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Why does no one worship these things as gods??? I'll be the first.
Frogmouths don't like my hair, either.
Tasmanian Devil. Poor guy was running around in circles. I agree: loud children are scary.
My nephew wanted to see a skink... so here's a skink.