i just want to conquer people and their souls

Well readers, here it is: the final installment of my epic Travel Tips: Tasmania Edition . In this final post, I will guide you through the lower portions of this fine state.   If you'd like to catch up, I suggest you read parts one and two first. So, on to the Tips. After the loitering miscreants of The Spirit of Tasmania , the speeding bogans of Davonport and the various other human flotsam and jetsam we had encountered in the north of Tasmania, its capital city, Hobart, seemed as glamorous as Monte Carlo. See what I mean? There were shops, cafes and people wearing pants! I would suggest packing your fancy flip flops... just in case. To add to the general feeling of hateur, my brother and I immediately decided to pronounce Hobart in our own ways, as a sort of homage to this fair city. I decided to capitalize on the fact that everyone was already greeting me with the respect and adoration universally shown to Americans abroad and pronounce it Hoeburrt , really taking c...

This is the Lolcat version of me:   It's true. I am a stereotype: I love shoes. I fight it because it is so lame but I am like the primo member of DSW. I don't even have a swipey key-chain thing, I have a special weird card that they sent me which elicits a hush from the usually mouthy clerks. It's bad. On my birthday, they shut down a major urban location just for me. I may not have clothes or pants, but I always have shoes. So, imagine my dismay when yesterday I bought a pair of awesome designer snakeskin (faux- I am a partial vegan, doncha know?) flats which were actually functional, and took them home to discover they were BOTH LEFT SHOES!! WTF? Who do they have working there? Is this going to have to be a reprise of the time my Dad called ABC liquor in Florida after having a less than stellar experience. On account of my Dad's amazing customer loyalty (read: drinking a shit-ton of wine), the CEO of ABC liquors called him back personally and apologized. Let...