Regardless of my intentions, I didn’t make it this weekend, and next weekend isn’t looking good either. Truth is, I got wind of some kind of convention being held in Perth City Centre a few days back and after learning more about it I could think about nothing else.

I started my day as usual with a coffee from Poppies over the road, I discussed with Lewis and Calum what the day might have in store. We were going to Sexpo. As you may know, I’m not a novice when it comes to relationships, in fact during high school I was voted ‘Duckling most likely to contract a sexually transmitted disease before the age of 21′. Still waiting for the results on that one.

We talked about what we could expect to see during the day and for the most part, it was just boobs. I won’t lie, the conversation didn’t even progress past the idea of boobs. Secretly though, during this exhibition, I hoped to find some rubber lovin’. Nothing too serious, I’ve got kids and a divorce to contest with after all, but just something to ruffle my feathers, so to speak.

I plucked up the courage to speak to some women over the next few hours, trying to find a connection; something we had in common.

I noticed Sarah from the corner of my eye as I waddled past hundreds of sex toys and at least 6 pairs of boobs. She was working in the strip poker section of the Expo, handing out flyers here and there. I could tell she wanted me though. We talked for 10 – 20 minutes about her previous love interest, a rubber chicken from Sydney. Unfortunately for Sarah, the only thing I could find we had in common is that we both look good naked.

Feeling slightly deflated, I moved on. If love was easy, everybody would be doing it. I wandered around the convention centre aimlessly, constantly being offered flyers, leaflets and other promotionally useless ‘goodies’. Then I found Lacey.

Lacey was a scantily clad miss working on one of the 1,933,484 sex toy stands at the Sexpo. I caught her eye and she smiled at me. At least, I imagine she did.. If I’m honest I can’t remember much about our conversation. I know that it lasted around 40 minutes and at one point Lacey tried to show me the latest and greatest in sexual technology. Two things attracted me to Lacey in the first place; her eyes and her smile. After spending some time with Lacey I realised this wasn’t what I was looking for in a relationship.

Candice may be a different story. I found Candice crying in the women’s bathroom. The reason I was in the women’s bathroom is neither here nor there.

This damsel was distressed because her boyfriend (who came to the Sexpo with her) left with a male stripper named Edwardo. I offered a latex shoulder to cry on and before you knew it we were having a drink in the bar, she was smiling and I was happy. Maybe because I had found a connection with someone, maybe because I get drunk really easily. Either way I was having a good time.

After three or four beers I was decidedly drunk and Candice was uncontrollably ‘rowdy’. I like a party as much as the next small pink travelling rubber duck, but she was out of control. Words were slurring and she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. This relationship was moving faster than I might have liked, especially since we were in public. The final straw was a loud ‘woo!’ and a swift spank on my arse. I couldn’t take it. A public display of affection that was both embarrassing and inappropriate. I can’t help but feel I’d have been better off with Edwardo myself. Goodbye Candice.

Almost at the point of giving up, I was ready to go home, the day wasn’t a total loss, I had met some great people and learned a lot about what was sexually possible for a duck. On the way to the exit, I was tapped on the shoulder, I really didn’t want another flyer or promotional leaflet, so I walked on, hoping they would bother somebody else. Another tap on the shoulder. Persistent buggers.

I turned around ready to give them a good quacking to when I was confronted by a giant. Think Hagrid off of Harry Potter, now make him more muscly, take away the hair and the overcoat. That’s who I was looking at. Confused and tired, I just stared. I was told “my presence was required by one of the stars of the Expo”, intrigued and ever-so-slightly scared for my life, I followed him to a small room where I saw Michelle “Bombshell” McGee.

I won’t lie. I knew this wasn’t going to work, I’m not into the whole tattoo and bondage thing. Been there, done that, got the laser removal. However, I didn’t feel I had a choice, the brick-shit-house stood by the door, blocking my exit. I played along, did what she wanted. She explained to me that she had heard about my adventures during the day. She mentioned that some of her most considerate lovers had been Rubber Ducks, and that she was always on the lookout for a ‘good time’.

I have mentally blocked out the next 10 – 12 hours of my life, so I can’t even tell you what happened.. The only proof that anything at all happened is these images. I refuse to acknowledge them.

Hey Duckers, Dave here.

Let me firstly apologise for the distinct lack of updates. I’ve been going through a tough time with the ex. She’s claiming I owe her money for one of ‘our’ ducklings. I’ll protest it to the death. He can’t be mine.

Let’s not worry about that for now. Let’s worry about Chernobyl. I thought I was one lucky duck when I was told I would be heading off on my next adventure, then they told me where.

This wasn’t going to be like any of the other places I’ve been, there was a purpose, a reason. A history lesson!

This was an organised trip with 6 of the guys from POTN, I was lucky enough to be invited to tag along. Appreciate it guys!

Now that you have a little background on the subject you can better understand why we were there, sure there were thousands of people injured; did anyone bother to census the duck population after the incident? I’ll wager not. I made it my mission to ensure there was still a strong duck presence in Chernobyl!

So we started our tour with some pretty basic stuff, I mean we’ve all seen a tank before right? They’re awesome, powerful behemoths, but I don’t feel we explore them enough, we are told not to climb on them whenever we see them. I’m a duck rebel without a cause. I don’t conform to conventional rules. That’s me above on the tank. I’m the pink duck. I’m awesome.

That’s not to say that rules aren’t important. They are imposed for a reason. I would urge kids (and small ducks) not to play on tanks. The risks far outweigh the awesomeness. I worry I will never be free of tank tracks on my back. Also, when I was run over, I squeaked, I never squeak. It was humilliating

After getting over the initial shock of involuntarily ‘lifting’ a REALLY FRICKIN’ HEAVY tank, we moved on to missiles. I’m anti-war, I don’t like confrontation, fighting or Nandos. However there is something about a really big missile that says “I’m sexy”. Had you ever seen the inside of a missile before the picture above? I hadn’t. I’ve cleverly hidden myself somewhere in the missile above, if you look really hard, you’ll see me. Answers on a postcard!

Leaving the missile behind we investigated the inner workings of some of the buildings located around the disaster area, not too close mind, that shit is still radio active. For the most part it was long corridors with pipes that looked like they were there for a reason. As if removing a section could indeed end the world. For the record, we left the infrastructure intact. A duck will not be the cause of the apocalypse on my watch. We did however spot some strange goings on along one of the walkways. At first I was pissed as it ruined my kodak moment, but thinking about it, I quite like the unexplained; what lies under Lady-Gaga’s knickers for example.

We were granted access to a room that looked relatively important, if not a little dated (no qwerty keyboard?! WTD!). We were under strict instruction not to press anything. Remember that whole rebel duck without a cause thing? I pressed a total of 8 buttons. No idea what they said or did; but the fact that you’re reading this means it can’t have been *that* important. Right? RIGHT?!

For the record, I found no evidence of ducks living in Chernobyl. This saddens me. Fear not reader, I plan to meet a nice russian duck, import her to Chernobyl, start a family and then let them re-populate the community. Sure it will be slightly incestuous to begin with, I’m willing to overlook that fact. God did with the whole ‘Adam and Eve’ thing. Crack on!

After a long day learning and touching things I probably shouldn’t, my Ukrainium (see what I did there?) was pounding. I had a headache. The guys sent me off to bed whilst they finished off the last of the vodka and looked at russian bride websites. Not before grabbing one last shot of all of us together.

Thanks lads!

So this time I’ve been in Denmark, with a new friend Lee Crawley.

Denmark is a seriously amazing place and I had such a great time, Lee got plenty of amazing shots but unfortunately I’m at McDonalds on the free WiFi and they shut in like 12 minutes, DML.

I digress. We did some awesome things whilst in Den to the Mark (did that even just make sense.. I’m leaving it.), just take a look at some of the stuff I got up to below.

Above is a shot that I can only describe as sick. I assume it’s something that the Danish do? There were literally hundreds of ducks like myself, trapped in little perspex boxes, on display for public entertainment. I’m down with rubber loving as much as the next guy, but there is a line, and I feel the Dane’s have crossed it. Of course there were cries of outrage from the hundreds of ducks, but what was I meant to do? I’m a guest of the country, not Martin Luthor King.

I think I may have stated before that I’m not really a drinker. However the Carlsberg tour was pretty amazing. At least, that’s what they tell me. This photo is the only memory I have of it, and I’m paralytic even at this point. What a waste of 3 hours. I might as well have watched Piranha 3D, at least doing that I wouldn’t have been sick on my favourite pair of Birkenstock’s!

Ah right, they’ve checked the archives and they seem to have found another memory, this is apparently me (I maintain that this is a doppleganger), ‘frolicking’ in a fountain in Tivoli Gardens, apparently the oldest theme park in the world, they say Walt Disney was inspired to create Disney World via this place. I’m a fan of rides an’ all.. Also a firm believer in alcohol and motion not mixing well, so for the most part I remember staying off the big boy attractions.

Ah, this is me just chillin’. Waiting for the ‘midnight train goin’ anywhere’; a little Glee/Journey joke in there for ya.. Good thing I don’t charge for this shit eh!

But in seriousness, I’m a secret trainspotter. Keep that on the down low if you please.

Some of you may remember, I split from my Wife a while ago, and to be honest I haven’t had the greatest time. It’s been an emotional roller coaster (we’re back to alcohol and roller coasters not mixing!) but whilst in Denmark I finally found the courage to talk to a female. Her name was Dolly, and she was the most beautiful shaped colourful rubber I have ever seen. We really hit it off. We started with stuff like favourite band or TV show, but after an hour or so, we were discussing things like previous partners and when the last time we were checked for STI’s. Fortunately we didn’t discuss results!

I invited Dolly for dinner at a local restaurant we were staying near. 7pm sharp I told her. She said she’d meet me there.

That evening, I ate alone.

I finished the trip on a high note, as we visited the Zoo!
Usually I’m not a fan of places that lock animals in cages and profit from them, but I had a crappy day previously, I needed to laugh at someone else’s misfortune. Don’t judge me.

Stupid Elephant!

Finally we packed out bags and headed out to come home. I had an amazing time with Lee, I seriously can’t thank him enough!

If you’d like to see more of Lee’s photography, check out his Flickr (whatever the hell that is)

Next time, Chernobyl!

First off she introduced me to some friends of hers at home. Hairy little chaps who didn’t say much to be honest, but never the less they welcomed me with open arms.

Yorkshire was a place I was able to sit, quietly, calmly, and think to myself. Mostly about my life and what I have achieved, what I aim to get through in the next few years. In fact I had so much time to think I began questioning life itself. Am I dead?

Soon after that I was introduced to some brethren at a local fish farm, I tried to mingle as best I could, but they were mostly chavs looking for trouble. So I politely requested we move on.

Whilst in Yorkshire, I noticed a building that I assume is used for some sort of job interview station for ducks like myself, ya’ know, an audition room for films etc.

Towards the end of the trip we visited the Harewood Speed Hillclimb, you may have read previously that I am in love with motorsports, so this was a pleasant surprise!

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Kay for the time in Yorkshire, it was amazing and I had a blast.
I’d also like to thank you for reading, and I’ll update the website when I get back from Denmark!

w00p w00p!

Dave your friendly neighbourhood rubber duckling here.

Been a mental few weeks, family members flew in from Canada and I’ve been showing them some British hospitality ey!
As a result 2 of them are in hospital and one of them is in prison. Easy mistake to make, they didn’t 100% grasp which side of the road we fly on.

I digress, the reason I’m here is because I’m an avid motorist. There are few things that excite me as much as Superbikes and the weekend before last I had the opportunity to go to an actual Championship race with Mr Richard Swaffield!

I was FAR too busy watching the race to be involved in much photography, but I can assure you I had an amazing time!

The event was Brands Hatch circuit in Kent, for the BMCRC (British Motorsport Racing Club) Championships.

The photo was taken from the gravel trap at Paddock Hill bend looking across to Druids hairpin, during the Superstock 1000cc race on 25 July 2010.

Who wants to touch me?

Dave, your friendly-neighbourhood-bright-pink-rubber-duck here. Recently got back from Spain with a good friend, Mr Robert Bridgens. I had a pretty awesome time, most of it was spent lazing around the pool, but we did venture into a few of the surrounding towns.

Spain was beautiful, we stayed in a town called Nerja, this is where the pool shots were taken, but we did slip off to the nearby Mijas for a quick spot of bull fighting. The guy in the picture below got seriously hurt moments after this photo was taken. I don’t know my own strength.

I also did a short stint being the PRESIDENT of Spain. I feel it was my leadership and bright pinkness that lead Spain to victory in the 2010 World Cup.

Those of you who know me (and Ducks in general) will understand that I am massively against drinking of any kind. Water is the only hydrating utensil I need to stay ‘afloat‘. This is in no small part due to the fact that I had a problem a few years back. A problem that cost me my job, my kids, and my wife (Mrs Dave the Duck).

However Rob and his brother ninja slipped some alcohol into my H2O and the result is the pictures that follow. I’m not proud of what happened, but what are ya gonna do?

I found myself doing front flips into the pool. Drunk. Naked. Horny.

Don’t judge me. DML.

All that’s left to say is a big thank you to Mr Robert Bridgens (@RBridgens) for taking me with him, and providing such awesome photos.

Bring on the next trip!

I won’t lie to you – I’m bright pink and made of plastic and/or rubber, nevertheless, I have feelings, hopes and dreams. I want to see the world! Or at least Brighton.

I am a domesticated bathroom Duck forced on a regular basis to take baths with people I don’t really know. That’s not the life I want, I’d like to meet a woman (Duck), how do you think she will react when she finds out I often bath with naked men?

I have a plan though! I’ve got this mate who we will call ‘Lewis‘ over at HillDesigns, who got speaking to his friend ‘Matt’ who thought it might be a good idea to help me get out of this joint and sneak into peoples luggage on the way out of the UK. Enlisting the help of a bunch of Photographers on a website called POTN. If you’re gonna travel, why not do it with someone who owns an expensive camera?! Maybe they will catch my good side, which is both, I’m symmetrical.

My aim is to see as much of the world as I can before I get:

• Caught
• Eaten
• Lost
• Bored
• Involved in Crime

I’ve spoken to Lewis and I think he’s sorted that I’m going to Spain very soon with some bloke called Rob?

SCORE!

Gonna lam-daa-da the night away, I’m tellin’ ya!

I’ll post back soon with an update and some pictures (as long as Rob takes some.. I’ve got no hands).

Peace out,

Dave the Duck.
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