I’ve learnt the hard way that VMM32.VXD is apparently vital if you want a Windows 98 machine to boot up. I’m not sure why I was messing around with it. I don’t specifically remember actually making a point of messing around with it in the first place, but a few days ago - it was dead, without warning. Thankfully, Cam sent me a fresh new shrinkwrapped VMM32.VXD like the good bitch that he is, so now I’m up and running again.

I guess VMM32.VXD is like Ray Martin in computer file form: the temptation to remove it is there, but you find out the hard way that you unfortunately can’t run the whole show without it being involved.

*****

Wezza, my lovable drugged-up paranoid neighbour downstairs is up to something. He’s acting very suspicious.

When I arrived home from work on Friday he was riding around on a BMX bike. Wezza doesn’t get enthusiasm and energy like this from out of nowhere.

Even more suspicious, that night he had a party - but not with his usual group of dope heads. He actually invited some WOMEN around.

The next day, all of his furniture was outside his unit.

That afternoon, everything was back inside, and he’d removed his permanently-closed curtains to boot. I can actually see inside his place now. It even looks like he’s tidied up.

I am worried that Wezza is turning gay.

*****

I decided on Saturday that if I didn’t revisit my home town of Torquay some time soon, I’d go bananas. I just need to go back to the beach and see it again. I really miss Melbourne and Torquay - I’m happy in Sydney, but I wanted to visit Melbourne a lot. Some quick checking of discount airline fares later, I’d booked Adam and myself some tickets to Melbourne for this weekend.

So off to Melbourne we go. It’s akin to a little holiday really - the closest Adam and I have done to something like this is staying in a Sydney hotel for the night. (I’m beginning to think the Sydney hotel thing could be a bad idea in principle, looking back on past drunken casino gambling and hotel hallway nudey run incidents).

Vanessa Undresser from my work is considering taking a trip to the Blue Mountains for a weekend getaway of her own, with her husband.

Vanessa Undresser: We were thinking of going to the Blue Mountains in summer.
Me: No! Not then!
Vanessa Undresser: Why?
Me: There are ALWAYS fires in the Blue Mountains in summer.
Vanessa Undresser: Actually, there are too.. hmm…
Me: See, by day they go by the name ‘the Blue Mountains’, but come summertime - they reveal their true evil identity as the Black Mountains Of Death.
Vanessa Undresser: Shut up. Now you’re making me worried about it.
Me: Oh, don’t worry about it at all. The residents of the Blue Mountains don’t worry. Why, come every summer, all they seem to say is ‘Oh, those wacky mountains and their crazy bushfire hijinks…’

*****

I’m in Blackjack Training at the moment, as I plan to have a bit of a shot at blackjack at Crown Casino when we visit Melbourne. I’ve never played a casino game before (well, never played a casino game SOBER before, if you want to count my single drunken $10 bid on a blackjack table at Star City). I’ve pulled out a Game Boy game I only think I have only ever played twice called ‘Cool Hand’, which is a dodgy casino simulation. I’m quickly trying to master the counting method of winning blackjack, but not sure if I’ll remember it after a drink or two. I don’t plan to spend too much money, but I know that I’ll invariably lose it all because if I win anything, I’ll gamble it all away. But: it’s the fun of the night that counts. Besides, Crown Casino easily kicks Star City’s arse in the casino stakes. (Think about it: a giant complex filled with elaborate, modern architecture and a whole night of entertainment in itself, or a big room with a lot of pokies, a couple of gaming tables and a lot of bizarre, cheap-looking neon lighting stuck next to a hotel and a ’shopping mall’ with four outlets?)

Saturday night is the big night out, but we all plan to go into the city first of all for some dinner. Maybe we’ll get Chinese again - when Cam, Adam and I went to Star City we had Chinese for dinner beforehand. The highlight of that was definitely the fortune cookies, however the lowlight was when Adam got a fortune cookie message that he was just beginning a very long term relationship, then promptly refused to eat the cookie because he didn’t like it - and in turn negating the validity of the message, in my opinion. Cookie bastard.

*****

I got my hands on the new Machine Head EP, and one thing’s got me puzzled. You may or may not be aware of my fascination with Robb Flynn, the singer of the band - well, he’s no longer choosing to go by the name Robb Flynn. It’s all Robert Flynn now as far as I can see. The glamour is gone. The sex is gone. It’s as if he’s going all middle-aged on me. This is really disturbing me. Robb was a sexy name. Robb was a real metal name. The extra ‘b’ on his name is slightly reminiscent of 80’s metal (see: Ratt, Nikki Sixx, etc), but it worked for me. It really did.

*****

The IT support department at my work are tucked away in their own little office. Nobody’s too sure what goes on in there, but they don’t turn the lights on and it smells. Most of its inhabitants emerge rarely, usually only to obtain more Pepsi Max. Their uniform of choice appears to be Nine Inch Nails and Ministry t-shirts, although when I was in the cafeteria getting some morning tea, an IT guy wearing a battered Nailbomb t-shirt took an obvious interest in the Filter t-shirt I was wearing.

He grinned at me with brown teeth that definitely confirmed he was a commando in the Pepsi Max army.

Pepsi Max commando: So. You got your hair cut, eh.
Me: Yes. That I did.
Pepsi Max commando: Uh huh huh huh. My hair’s all long and stuff.
Me: Are you going to shave yours off too?
Pepsi Max commando: No, no. It’s strange, companies never used to hire guys with long hair.
Me: Like yourself.
Pepsi Max commando: Uh huh huh huh, yeah, huh huh, like me.
Me: Well, all praise modern workplaces, then.
Pepsi Max commando: Yeah. In fact, when I went for this job, they told me my hair might not be long enough.
Me: Er.. they did?
Pepsi Max commando: Yep, when I went for the tech support job, uh huh huh huh.
Me: You’re lying, aren’t you?
Pepsi Max commando: Um… yes. (slinks away with Pepsi Max in hand)

Left alone with nobody but the cafeteria staff, I decided on a danish for morning tea.

Me: Could I have a cappucino, and (points) one of those danishes, please?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: Which kind would you like?
Me: Oh, it doesn’t really matter. Anything is fine.
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: No, really, you can choose.
Me: Okay. What have you got?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: We have apple.
Me: And?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: Apple.
Me: Yes, but what else?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: That’s it. Apple, and apple.
Me: Um… so I guess I’m having apple.
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: You’d like apple?
Me: What else is there?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: Apple.
Me: I will have an apple danish then.
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: Cool, okay.
Me: I’m glad we got that sorted, then.
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: And what kind of sugar would you like in your cappucino?
Me: What do you mean?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: We have brown sugar.
Me: What else?
Robb Flynn lookalike cafeteria guy: Brown sugar.
Me: Oh dear.

*****

Another one of these endless reality gameshows where people compete for vast amounts of money made its debut on Saturday night - an effort from Channel 9 titled ‘The Great Chase’.

This has got to be one of the most confusing shows I’ve seen yet. As far as I can tell it’s some sort of car race/cryptic-crossword game show. It’s obvious that the producers realise it’s a confusing show, too: the host went to every ad break by saying ‘Well, the Brown family have managed to drive to Yass and found the second silver box under a park bench seat and collected a jigsaw puzzle piece for their efforts - but the team of the three boys has already beat them to the Oognarundarra Post Office, where a mystery CD-ROM with a message from me is awaiting them! If you’re confused, don’t worry, it will all make sense after the break!’

He kept assuring me as he went to each commercial break that I shouldn’t worry, and that everything would make sense soon. By the show’s end, I still didn’t understand what was supposed to be happening, and from the looks of the contestants’ faces, they didn’t either.

*****

I Have Been Wondering

* Those free magazines like ‘City Weekly’ and ‘Nine To Five’ that are thrust in your hand every week at your local train station by some apathetic-looking gimp - does anybody ever bother to read past Mikey Robbins’ column on the front page?
* Red Rooster features a chicken in their logo. If other fast food restaraunts followed suit and also included depictions of the originating animal of the food they serve, what the hell would the McDonald’s logo feature?

*****

I’ve discovered a way to get free pizza.

Whenever Adam and I order pizza from the Pizza Haven chain, they give us a VIP Card. You collect three of these cards, and you get a free large pizza with your next order. Check to see if your local Pizza Haven gives out VIP Cards when they deliver your pizza.

If they do, next time you order a pizza, claim that you have 3 VIP Cards and want to claim your free large pizza. The thing is - the pizza delivery people NEVER ask for the cards! It’s not mentioned anywhere on the receipt, and they even give you an extra VIP card to add to the madness!

I will admit I feel guilty gibbing our pizza delivery man - he only has one arm and it’s a bit of a struggle for him to carry all our food up the stairs to our unit. I was so excited to have pizza when he visited us last weekend that I gave him the money prematurely, and it went all over the ground, and he started trying to pick up the money for me while holding our pizzas with his other arm (which must have been cut off at the elbow). I felt terrible - I was trying to make him stop so I could pick it up for him, but he got really rude and angry at me.

He’s a one armed pizza delivery man, but he’s a RUDE one armed pizza delivery man, so maybe it IS okay to scam free pizza from him.

*****

Things That Are Guaranteed To Happen Every Day

5.30am The alarm clock goes off. Adam wakes up, turns it off, goes back to sleep.
5.50am My mobile phone’s alarm goes off. Adam, in a half-awake stupor, grabs it from the floor and swings it over his shoulder towards me. It hits me in the head.
6.00am I manage to complete my shower just as the hot water runs out.
6.05am I warn Adam there’s no hot water.
6.07am Adam makes a point of making sure I hear how much he’s enjoying the steaming hot water in the shower.
6.40am Adam tells me not to forget to pay the rent (I forget he tells me this a few minutes later).
7.00am I leave the unit without my wallet and have to run back and try not to miss the train.
7.45am A fat person sits next to me and pulls out the Sydney Morning Herald (that’s the big newspaper) and proceeds to scowl at the day’s headlines, and breathe heavily through their nose.
8.30am I swear when I hear how many voicemails I have at work.
4.00pm Adam sends me an email asking me to buy milk on the way home.
4.30pm Adam sends me an email telling me how much he loves milk.
5.30pm I leave work forgetting to turn my computer off.
7.00pm Adam arrives home, and I realise I’ve forgotten to buy dinner, and also milk.
7.01pm Adam cries ‘Nyaaagh!’ and goes to the bedroom to play on the net.
7.02pm Adam asks me if I paid the rent. I told him I forgot. ‘Nyaaagh!’ he cries again.

*****

Adam’s drawing a new cartoon character called Red Rocket. I’m hoping that he’ll put him up here soon - Red Rocket will have his own little mini-site.

Who exactly is Red Rocket? A penis who wears a red cape, because he’s a superhero. He looks a little like Powdered Toastman from Ren & Stimpy, but more… phallic. Adam’s done a rough sketch which I wanted to scan and post here, but he won’t let me - but keep an eye out. The world’s favourite phallic superhero will be here to save the day shortly.

*****

The trains are weird at the moment.

This morning, as Adam and I walked to the train station in the rain, someone poked Adam in the chest with their umbrella. To me, it looked like some sort of jousting challenge. Adam gave his best angry glare at the jouster and they retreated.

I’ve also noticed every day when I catch the train home, there’s always a suspicious group of people hanging around the end of the train platform. It usually smells like dope wafting from their area. Today I even saw a station attendant huddled amongst the smoking group. I’m convinced there’s a little dope corner down the end of my train platform.

On Tuesday night on my train ride home, there was a guy who kept looking and staring at my feet. I was becoming uncomfortable, until I realise he wasn’t wearing any shoes and probably wanted mine. He wasn’t poor, he was dressed quite well… he just didn’t have shoes on, that’s all.

When I alighted at my train station, Torana was waiting to meet his girlfriend on a new bike. ‘I’m so excited about this bike,’ he rambled, ‘I’ve ridden into (Suburb X) four times today, and I didn’t even need to.’ Bear in mind, Suburb X takes about 15 minutes to travel to by car. He must be eager.

His girlfriend wanted to try the bike, so she pedalled off into the distance while Torana was left holding her mobile phone and handbag. He was worried someone would see him walking around with a handbag, but looked like a rabbit caught in headlights when a car turned around a street corner and lit him up in the night.

‘Oh my God!’ he cried. ‘People everywhere, and here’s me walking around with a man-bag.’

*****

One of the big clients I deal with at work has a strange voicemail message. A lot of people at my work have phoned her number to try and figure out what she’s saying. I think she’s trying to say ‘I will call you back as soon as possible,’ except it comes out as ‘I will call you back (trumpet type sound)’.

We also had a Fucked Up Shirt contest at work on Friday (it was christened Fucked Up Friday). Basically, the person who wore the most fucked up shirt to work won a bottle of champagne. There were some very horrendous Hawaiian shirts on show, but I managed to win with a Shell Oil shirt I bought in an Op Shop during my year at uni. There’s been a re-match for next Friday, but little does everyone know I have an even bigger weapon: an authentic Australia Post postman’s shirt from the 1970’s.

*****

McCraig: (puts jellybeans on desk) I got some jellybeans from the vending machine.
Me: (picks up packet) What? They’re called ‘Smart Beans’.
McCraig: That’s right. See, look here. (points to pack) It says ‘they really make you think’.
Me: Yeah, they really make me think about what’s in them.

*****

The fucked up shirt challenge was not the only challenge at my work recently - we also had a Water Consumption challenge, to see who could drink the most water in one working day. I wasn’t doing too badly, until I emailed Cam to let him know there was a water consumption challenge on, and he told me his record was over 3.5 litres in one working day. That made my previously gargantuan effort of 1.6 litres seem pissy. (The day did turn rather pissy, actually - everyone was using the toilet every five minutes)

I would hate to sit near our water cooler at work. I have always loved the way water coolers sometimes go ‘bloop!’ when you pour some water into a cup and a big air bubble floats up in the water container. The water cooler at my work is always producing air bubbles, however; and even well after you’ve stopped pouring water, the ‘bloop!’ noises continue. I know all I would have to do is sneak up on someone who sits in the area and persistently mutter ‘Bloop! Bloop! Bloop! Bloooop!’ and they’d snap in less than five minutes.

*****

I get strange enquiries at my job. If it’s not Japanese companies emailing me to ask if we would like to engage in ‘world widely business deals’ with them, it’s getting strange internal emails.

Someone sent a message to everyone today out of courtesy - apparently the Bureau of Meterology had issued a warning that storms were about to hit Sydney:

Sydney Metropolitan
Central Tablelands
Illawarra
Thunderstorms are forecast within the advice area this afternoon. Some of these may be severe bringing large hailstones, damaging winds and very heavy rainfall. The STATE EMERGENCY SERVICE advises that as storms approach people should:
*put vehicles under cover
*move indoors away from windows

At this point, McCraig looked out of the window we sit next to at the brilliantly sunny sky, and jumped out of his chair and screamed. The email continued:

During and after the storm people should:
*beware of fallen trees and power lines
*keep away from creeks and drains as you may be swept away

As I’m sure you can imagine, as McCraig and I walked to the train station in the middle of a sunny afternoon, there were many physical slapstick jokes involving us pretending to be sucked, vacuum-like, into nearby drains.

(I’ve just checked the Bureau of Meterology’s website to see if their hailstones storm warning is stil online - it’s not, but there is a meek excuse claiming that the ‘thunderstorm has been cancelled’. How gracious of them).

*****

After I got my head shaved on Tuesday, I decided that I wanted more. I started seriously considering getting an eyebrow piercing, which is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.

A few emails asking for advice from Adam and Cam later, I’d decided to go ahead with it. I wasn’t sure about how the procedure was actually done (spikey thing, or similar to ear piercing?) I checked the address details of some body piercing studios in Surry Hills and decided to go and get it done after work.

After being unable to locate the body piercing studio I originally intended to go to, I had a walk around and ended up at a body piercing place in Darlinghurst. I opened the door and two women looked up at me immediately from behind a giant display of body jewellery.

‘Hi!’, one of them greeted me. ‘What can we do to you?’ I think it was at this point that I realised this place was all about weird body alterations and quite possibly pain as well, but one of the women took me aside and had a chat with me about what I wanted. I filled out a release form giving them permission to pierce me, and then she gave me a eucalyptus lolly.

‘This will release energy endorphins and get your sugar levels up so you feel great and in tune for your piercing,’ she explained in a monotone as she gazed vacantly at me. Great, I thought. I’m getting pierced by hippies.

A girl cried out in pain from behind a wall, and the eucalyptus lolly girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I wondered what it would feel like when I got pierced.

The eucalyptus lolly lady started explaining to me how to take care of the piercing and the hygenic things I had to do to take care of it. ‘It should be totally healed in around four months’ time,’ she advised.

The other lady jumped up from under another display as if she’d just recieved some important information by newswire. ‘Actually,’ she eagerly said, ‘It will only take TWO months!’

‘Wow!’ exclaimed the eucalyptus lolly lady, as if it was only the three hundredth time she’d gone through this act.

The girl who cried out appeared through a door with a new ring through her lip. She left the studio pretending to look like she was pleased with what she was done. Then a man walked out with so many piercings, he looked like he would need to strip down to his skeleton to get through a metal detector.

‘Hi, I’m Jay,’ he greeted me. ‘I’m going to be PIERCING you today!’ he frothed, flailing his arms about. The only thing I could interpret his body language to possibly mean was ‘Hey, look at what I can do with my arms!’

We walked into the room where the piercing was done, and he asked me which eyebrow I wanted pierced. I pointed to my left eyebrow, and he drew some dots on it and checked to make sure it was where I wanted it.

He began to put the needle in, and I suddenly realised that the left eyebrow is the gay side to be pierced. Or was it? I couldn’t remember. Would the know? Would it be too late to ask him to stop, and perhaps pierce the other eyebrow instead?

Yes, it would. He already had begun to plunge a spike into my face. It was at this point I realised it was called eyebrow piercing for a reason, and began to truly understand the definition of the word pierce.

Afterwards, he offered to take me to another room so I could have a look at it in a full-size mirror. As I glanced at my new piercing, I realised I could see a man getting a tattoo in the reflection of the room. A hairy man. A big hairy man getting a tattoo on his inner thigh. I’m not sure if it was the piercing or the sight of that thigh that made me a little queasy.

*****

Cam mentioned in his journal that he came out as a gay guy to five of his mates on the weekend. When I found this out, I lay down a challenge that I could come out to more people in 24 hours than he did, and the gauntlet was thrown down.

Initially Cam was trying to cheat by including the 4 innocent bystanders who happened to overhear he was gay, but these don’t count. The eligible come-outees must be close friends, family or workmates. I have to beat Cam’s score of 5 people, but I think I could manage 7. We also agreed you get double points if someone has a bad reaction to you coming out.

I was going to start my 24 hours in which to come out to as many people as possible yesterday. I’d decided to start with the most difficult coming out of all first - my parents. It’s been on my mind a lot recently, and I decided that when I visit Melbourne and Torquay this weekend, I want my mum and dad to know Adam as my partner, not my flatmate. I psyched myself up and gave them a call.

Unfortunately, right before I was about to say ‘Mum, I’m gay,’ Adam walked in the door, arriving home from work and totally put me off. Think about it - what would you have thought if you just walked in the door and heard your partner saying ‘Mum, I’m gay’? (Especially if you didn’t think they were gay in the first place?)

I had a second attempt tonight, and was succesful. Things went fine. I’ve always known my parents would be okay with it, it’s just a matter of me not feeling awkward about them knowing. The conversation went something like this:

My mum: Hello?
Me: Hi, mum. It’s me.
My mum: Oh, hi!
Me: (serious voice) I’ve got something to tell you.
My mum: Oh God. What have you done?
Me: No, it’s not bad!
My mum: Oh, good!
Me: I don’t think it’s bad, anyway.
My mum: What is it?
Me: Well, I’m gay.
My mum: Ha ha ha!
Me: Um… I am.
My mum: No you’re not.
Me: I’m gay.
My mum: Yes. Well, you should have heard what happened at your father’s work today-
Me: No, mum, I really am. I’m serious. I’m gay.
My mum: You are?
Me: Yes!
My mum: Oh, well about fucking time you told me!
Me: I knew that you knew. You’d have to be stupid not to.
My mum: Too right!
Me: Who did you think Adam was?
My mum: What do you mean?
Me: He’s the reason I moved to Sydney.
My mum: Ohhhh! It makes sense now. Well, I can’t wait to see him when he comes down to visit this weekend.
Me: Cool. It’ll be good.
My mum: Can I tell your grandparents?
Me: WHAT?!
My mum: Well, your grandparents, you know, maybe I could tell them too?
Me: Mum, they’re in their late eighties, you could kill them with something like that!
My mum: Oh, I don’t know, it’s a bit of good news and all that!
Me: Oh dear.

I then told her which of my friends over the years have been gay - she suspected a few, but was surprised by a lot. ‘Gee,’ she exclaimed after I’d listed them. ‘Everyone is gay. Sheesh. I better go check that your father isn’t gay,’ she continued.

Once Adam found out that I’d told my parents I was gay, he started making joking threats that he will greet my parents with a lisping voice and a limp wrist and start commenting on what beautiful shoes my mum is wearing, dah-ling. I hit him.

*****

I attempted to print up a simple Word document this afternoon at work. I walked to the printer to collect my printout, but all that was sitting in the printer tray was this:

I think this is the first time my intelligence has been insulted by a printer.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 20th, 2000 at 7:04 pm and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.