My Washing Machine Runneth Over
I can’t believe I missed McHappy Day. There’s nothing funnier than visiting your local suburban McDonalds on McHappy Day and trying to identify the hordes of “celebrities” that are serving customers. These so-called famous people are usually little more than school principals and local politicians but it’s all a silly laugh nonetheless.
Two years ago I was in Mount Gambier on McHappy Day. I think I was there for a friend’s birthday or something, a whole group of us drove from Melbourne to South Australia. As we went through the Mount Gambier McDonald’s drive through, I demanded of the guy serving me:
Me: Who the hell are you?
Drive through ‘celebrity’: Um… I’m a DJ on the local radio station.
Me: Riiiight. Okay, well, I’d like fries with that.
Couldn’t resist rubbing salt into the wound - seeing as McDonalds rub too much salt into everything they sell anyway.
I’m pretty sure in every country with fast food stores (except Australia) there’s a restaraunt chain called Burger King. However, because Australia is just that bit more dodgier than your average developed country, they had to go and call the chain Hungry Jack’s instead of Burger King in Australia. (Who is Jack? Why is he hungry? Does he really believe he’ll get a meal that will fill him at Hungry Jack’s?)
However, it appears the owners of the Burger King/Hungry Jacks chain are trying to transform all the Hungry Jacks stores into Burger King stores. There’s a new Burger King that just opened up a little drive from where we live - Adam and I were in the area and decided to grab a bite to eat.
I suppose the name ‘Burger King’ carries all sorts of American connotations here in Australia. Right from the point of pulling up next to the speaker in the drive through, they make sure you know this is a fair dinkum true blue Aussie she’ll-be-right-mate burger joint. (Owned by an American megacorp).
Woman on speaker: (in extremely ocker Australian accent) Weeelcome to Austtraalian Burrrger Kiing.
AUSTRALIAN Burger King? What?!
I love the way fast food joints desperately try to make you buy extra things at the end of your order. We’re all familiar with ‘Would you like any fries with that?’ or ‘Would you like a dessert with that?’. The ‘Australian’ Burger King took this to new dimensions by giving us a short speech:
Woman on speaker: Would you also like to try our new barbecued tender chicken wings that are cooked on a real barbecue and come with a dipping sauce and are available in packs of three nine or twelve for a limited time only as our opening special?
Adam: (not quite sure what the woman has just said) Er… yes.
Can I move on to an old favourite of mine, KFC? They’re a classic for never getting our order right at the local drive through. The speaker is really crackly as well - you can barely understand what they’re saying. I’d love to do this to one of the KFC staff:
Person on speaker: Welcome to KFC, can I take your order?
Me: I—cfcchhhk—chickfffft ccsst burgerrsssttfft mmmmkkkf, and could I have that as a large meal please.
I think one of my bottom teeth is going to fall out soon. In case you couldn’t tell, my diet isn’t exactly high in meals that don’t come with a regular fries and regular Coke. This tooth is feeling sort of wobbily, like a drunken homeless bum swaying in the wind.
(I admit it. I’ve been waiting for ages to write ‘wobbily like a drunken homeless bum swaying in the wind’)
We also had a debate about Pizza Hut on the weekend.
Adam: I’m hungry. I wouldn’t mind pizza.
Me: You know what would be cool? If there was a pizza place with a drive through. I guess it wouldn’t really work though because it takes so long to make a pizza.
Adam: There is a drive through pizza place near here.
Me: Bullcrap!
Adam: Seriously, the Pizza Hut down the road, they have a drive through.
Me: They SO do not have a drive through.
Adam: It’s around the back.
Me: You’d think they’d advertise to the public something as novel as a pizza drive through.
Adam: Trust me. There’s a drive through.
Me: Hang on hang on hang on. How do they make pizza quick enough to have a drive through?
Adam: There’s, er, a selected menu.
Me: I don’t believe you.
Adam: Well you should. I used to go there all the time.
Me: You don’t even drive! (bangs fist on beanbag) There is SO not a drive through at that Pizza Hut.
Adam: Don’t believe me then.
Me: (stands up) Come on then.
Adam: What?
Me: (grabs car keys) We’re going to the fucking Pizza Hut and you’re going to show me exactly where the drive through is.
Adam: (laughing) Nah, not right now.
Me: Man, you’re full of shit.
We also made a special trip this week one night to a KFC store. We hadn’t had chicken in ages and were craving it really badly. It wasn’t our usual KFC (er… it’s probably quite bad that we have a ‘usual’ KFC).
Me: (drives up to drive through speaker)
KFC kid with bad sinuses: Hello, what do you want?
Me: Two 2-Piece Feeds thanks.
KFC kid with bad sinuses: Sorry. We ran out of chicken at 4pm.
Adam: (goes as ballistic as someone can possibly go in a passenger seat)
We were pretty pissed off at this stage and started questioning what the hell the C stood for in KFC anyway (’crap’, perchance?). Adam had a theory they had shitloads of chicken out the back but couldn’t be bothered frying it up for us. We wanted chicken so much we drove all the way back to our usual KFC restaraunt.
Adam: Damn, it looks like this KFC is closed.
Me: (takes a sudden right turn)
Adam: Fuck! Where are you going?
Me: (drives into Pizza Hut carpark) Now show me where the bloody drive through is!
Adam: Ummm… it’s over there.
Me: What?!
Adam: That, er… that car park just there, outside the door.
Me: The whole purpose of drive through is that you don’t have to get out of your car. If you have to get out of your car it’s called TAKE AWAY.
Adam: Well, that’s what you have mates for. To go in and get the pizza.
Then a giant KFC/Pizza Hut delivery truck drove into the deserted Pizza Hut carpark. We felt like driving back to the other KFC and waiting until they got their chicken delivery, but by now we were pretty jack of the whole chicken idea.
*****
My parents are visiting me on their holidays soon, and one of my little sisters is visiting. It’s strange, because I still think of her as a really young kid, but she’s in Year 11 and in reality quite mature. I suppose living away from home I sort of lost touch with her, although I talk to her on the phone whenever I can.
I remember when I was a kid, my two sisters would always gang up on me when we had fights. They used the dirtiest tactics to get me in trouble with my parents, like they’d pretend that I had hit them and scream ‘Owww’ really loud, and then I’d get in trouble.
My other sister (who’s currently at uni in Melbourne), she used dumb tactics when we had arguments as kids. In fact, now I think about it, she still uses them today. The one she uses most is the Volume Theory - as long as you talk louder than the person you’re arguing with, you’re right. Or if she realises you’re winning the argument, all of a sudden she’ll just go ‘Eeeee!’ really loudly. For no point whatsoever.
Well, my youngest sister is certainly growing up, but she’s not an adult yet. She’s at that stage where she thinks hemp pants are one of the coolest things around and make her look dangerous. (I wonder if any try-hard young school kids ever tried smoking hemp material? Would not surprise me one bit)
It’s also my birthday in the middle of July - the big 21st birthday. I’m glad I moved out of home before my 21st because my parents would have thrown an incredibly embarassing party. They’re going to get me a watch for my 21st, and give it to me when they visit me in 2 weeks. I’ve been told to pick out a watch that’s not too expensive (around the $400 range). I know I SHOULD be getting a good, sensible watch that will last me a while, but I’m such a sucker for bells and whistles. I found a watch that you can upload MP3 files to, and listen to songs on your watch with a set of headphones. How cool is that?! I have no idea if it’s available in Australia though.
What I want most, though, is this watch I’ve seen with a digital camera - the LCD screen acts as a view finder and you can store up to 100 images. Unfortunately it’s not released until September. It’s surprisingly cheap, too. (Imagine the fun I could have with this in public toi… ahem) I got Adam to scan the above photo from a magazine. When he emailed it to me, I noticed he’d put his own photo in the LCD screen… hmm…
I also wouldn’t mind a Playstation 2 (dream on, we have so many bills to pay!), but they probably won’t be on Australian shores until 2001 or something. Apparently the Japanese are going nuts over it, but they seem to be nuts over games in general.
I experienced exactly how nuts the Japanese are over game consoles first hand a few years ago. I did a three week student exchange in 1996, and in the first week of the trip we were touring Tokyo. By some bizarre fate, we managed to be in the ‘technology’ suburbs of Tokyo on the launch date of the Nintendo 64. It was absolutely nuts. They had guys dressed up in Mario suits on every street corner accompanied by women dressed in swimsuits screeching ‘Nintendo 64… is POWERGO!’ into portable microphones. It was all rather amusing until one of the swimsuit women thrust a microphone into my face and screamed a question to me in Japanese which I didn’t understand one bit.
She then held out a small dish and the person dressed up in the Mario suit suddenly grabbed a giant black jar out of nowhere and started bouncing up and down. I had no bloody idea what I was supposed to be doing, but I knew that at all shops in Japan, they give you a dish when you pay for things at shops (you put your coins into the dish). I guessed I was supposed to give her money for something, so I chucked a few hundred yen into the dish and the swimsuit woman suddenly screamed something to the small crowd that had assembled that I gather was something like ‘We have a winner!’. The crowd started clapping and I wasn’t very sure of what I was supposed to be doing one bit (and all the time worrying I was about to break some Japanese custom).
She then started a chant of ‘Mario, Mario’ while the Mario man jumped around some more. Then he stopped moving, everyone went silent, and Mario held out the black jar to my hand. I put two and two together and realised I was to draw a prize out of some sort from the jar. I fumbled around in the jar, and drew out a green marble with the face of Mario on it.
‘MARIOOOOOOOOOOOO!’ swimsuit woman screamed and everyone in the crowd (presumably all hyped up with the purchases of their new gaming machines) started cheering. She thrust a Nintendo magazine in my face and held the mic up to my mouth. I had no idea what to say so I just said ‘thankyou’ in Japanese. The surrounding crowd obviously thought a foreigner who knew a simple Japanese word was a great novelty, so there was more cheering, laughing, and jumping up and down from the man in the Mario suit.
I’ve still got my photos from my time in Japan. I should put them up here some day… there are some funny shots of me with one of my worst haircuts ever.
I was playing Pokemon Pinball on my Gameboy (which I rarely use nowadays) while I was drunk on the weekend, and for a split second, I almost understood what Pokemon was all about. One of those all-too-rare moments of clarity.
I’ve noticed that stores which sell Pokemon merchandise are called ‘Pokecentres’. Is it just me or does that sound a bit suspect?
*****
Things To Not Do While You’re Drunk #1:
Cut your fingernails
*****
I had last Thursday off for my fire brigade interview, and thought I may as well take Friday off too. I rang up Mr Marketing on Friday morning with the usual fake-sick-day speil at hand. I usually offer to go and get a medical certificate, but without fail he will always say ‘Nah, don’t worry, it’s okay’ - so I’m usually free to have the day off as I please.
It didn’t quite work on Friday:
Me: I’m feeling really (drawn out wheeze) …sick.
Mr Marketing: Shit man. When are you going to come back in?
Me: I think I’ve got (wheeeze) flu… but I’m sure it will be better by Monday.
Mr Marketing: Oh, alright.
Me: Do you want me to get a medical certificate?
Mr Marketing: Nah… actually, yes. Get a medical certificate.
Me: (stop myself just in time from swearing) Okay.
He’d never actually asked me for a med certificate before. I rang up five local medical surgeries and they were all booked out for the day. I’d planned to go into a doctor and pretend I had an onset of the flu and just get a med certificate, but I had no idea where to go.
I remembered our local shopping centre had a dodgy doctor. Adam goes to the dodgy doctor whenever he’s not really sick. Adam said the guy looks like he’s just in it for the money, but I thought he was joking. From the moment I walked into the Dodgy Doctor’s surgery:
Dodgy Doctor: So what seems to be the problem today?
Me: Well, I woke up on Wednesday and I had this really bad-
Dodgy Doctor: (interrupting) So what is your Medicare number?
He then briefly asked ‘So you have flu, hmm?’ and I agreed. He hastily wrote out a med certificate, a vague prescription (’Take two of these tablets a day, for a while’) and I was out of the place in less than three minutes. Too bad if I’m ever genuinely sick and he just passes me off with another quick prescription and med certificate.
After all the effort I went to of finding a doctor, when I gave Mr Marketing the medical certificate (with much flourish) he scanned over it, and declared ‘Oh, I don’t need one of those’ and flung it in the bin. I think he’s just trying to make life difficult for me.
Our iron is still one of the worst irons I’ve ever used (then again, I’ve never really used that many before). It’s still an official Non-Ironing Iron, but it’s starting to perform in other ways that irons just shouldn’t perform.
For example, on Monday morning, I’d painstakingly ironed my iron for ten minutes longer than I really should have (all because it’s a Non-Ironing Iron). Just when my shirt was perfect, a giant puddle of water leaked out from the innards of the iron onto the front of my shirt. Rather than walk outside looking like a contestant from an impromptu corporate wet shirt contest, I had to begin my ironing all over again. By this point I’d spent well over twenty minutes just on the one shirt. I don’t think people at work appreciate the hard work I put into my ironing (even though the shirt appears to be hardly ironed at all anyway). Every day I’m wearing a small piece of art and my work is going unrecognised.
I was sitting behind a bald man on the train yesterday and I have a question. How could a man so bald have so much dandruff?
My hair is starting to get a bit messy. It’s at that weird stage where it’s not really short anymore but it’s definitely not long. I’m trying to grow it long again but I’m not sure how to do it. I don’t really spend much time fussing over my appearance, but it’s getting more and more difficult to make my hair look decent in the morning.
I got in the lift on Tuesday on my way up to the floor I work at, and realised I look like a cockatoo, the way I spike my hair up. I also realised I had this enormous glob of snot in my left nostril, and only a few seconds to get rid of it before I arrived at my floor. I’m getting quite good at doing speed snot wipes - a hasty retrieval of a tissue, some quick scrubbing, then jamming the tissue back into the pocket before the doors opening (and also finding time for a final inspection of my nose); then I’m walking out the elevator doors and the people walking into the elevator notice nothing but a guy with really clean nostrils. A slightly dishevelled guy, but a dishevelled guy with really, really clean nostrils.
*****
On Friday, as I returned from the Dodgy Doctor, I noticed a cascading waterfall pouring down from the balcony of our block of units. It was a rather nice landscaping touch, but the problem was that there never used to be a waterfall in the foyer of our block of units up until an hour ago. I walked through the waterfall and up the stairs (which also had water cascading down them). There was water flooding out from underneath the door of the communal laundry - the washing machine had overflown. The guy who lives across the hall seemed a bit stoned and totally blown away by what his laundry had done to him.
Guy across the hall: Oh, man. The water, the water…
He was slowly sweeping the water around in circles with a broom and not accomplishing much at all. Somehow the water didn’t seep too much under the door of our unit.
We moved all the furniture around in the unit on the weekend and now all the rooms seem much bigger. However, the strange thing is, ever since we moved our double bed, I feel like I’m on a slope when I’m sleeping. I’m always rolling down towards the middle of the bed. Adam probably secretly propped up one side of the bed just to bug me.
*****
I mentioned in my last entry that Dodgy John (officially the dodgiest guy I know) has moved in with Adam’s two brothers, who live almost next door to us. Dodgy John has taken a very large disliking to Wezza, who lives downstairs from us. You may remember Wezza is a total bogan/westie, a bit of an idiot who doesn’t do much except smoke bongs, get drunk and listen to bad metal all day. Wezza also has this really unnerving way of staring at you through his window whenever you walk past.
Well, Dodgy John isn’t a guy who likes to be stared at. He’s also not a guy you want to piss off. Dodgy John’s told us that if Wezza stares at him the wrong way again, he’s going to sort him out. This could be rather amusing.
*****
Have you ever noticed when someone starts talking about middle names, you seem to have the same conversation every time?
Friend: So what’s your middle name?
You: Ohhhh… I HATE my middle name.
Friend: Oh go on! Tell us your middle name!
You: It’s so bad. I really hate my middle name. (Note: at this point you’re thinking that you don’t actually hate your middle name, you secretly have started to grow to like it, and that actor guy/girl has it as his/her first name anyway, so it’s not that bad is it?)
Friend: Go on. Tell us.
You: Ohhh… okay! But you have to guess it. It starts with a B.
Friend: (guesses a really nerdy name)
You: Don’t be stupid! It’s bad but not that bad.
Friend: (guesses a common name)
You: Nup.
Friend: (guesses a name very close to yours)
You: Ooh, you’re close.
Friend: (guesses a name nowhere near yours)
You: Oh, okay, I’ll tell you already. My middle name is (whatever your middle name is).
Friend: Oh, that’s not THAT bad.
You: Do you think so? I don’t really like it.
Friend: I quite like that name.
You: So what’s your middle name?
Friend: (lies through teeth) Oh, I don’t have a middle name.
*****
On Monday at lunch:
Jen: Would you ever have a kid with Adam?
Me: Hell no. I won’t ever have a kid.
Jen: Would you do, you know, like a donor thing?
Me: Of course not!
Jen: It’s only a few drops in a cup, you know.
Me: That’s not the point! I don’t want a little Mini Me running around somewhere in Australia.
Jen: Would you have my child?
Me: Hehehehe.
Jen: No, I’m serious.
Me: What?
Jen: Me and my girlfriend want to have a baby.
Me: Um… this is a joke, isn’t it?
Jen: Would you be a donor for my girlfriend?
Me: (snapping) Fuck no!
I can’t believe Jen asked me this. It’s totally ruined our friendship, and for Christ’s sake the woman’s only known me for a little over a month! Does anyone else out there want my sperm? Should I sell it on ebay? Mini Jebs, get em while they’re hot and gooey…
*****
Torana is currently working for a few weeks in Melbourne. He rang Adam the other day to say gday.
Torana: I can’t believe how cold this place is.
Adam: Why?
Torana: It’s either rain, wind, sun, or all three at once. It’s the coldest place I have ever been to.
Adam: Hey, did Jeb tell you about the fire brigade?
Torana: No?
Adam: He went for an interview for a job with the fire brigade in Sydney.
Torana: Shit! I sure hope my house doesn’t catch on fire.
On another note: my right eye’s eyelashes keep getting tangled up and it’s really irritating me. I can’t even see straight half the time. Yes, that’s right, this is the man who wants to be a firefighter complaining about his eyelashes.
*****
It’s been a while, but Adam did another cartoon for me:
