So its spring time, and you know what that means, don't you? It means babies are being born left right and centre at The Ranch. Babies of the calf and lamb variety mostly. Maybe a few kids, being the young offspring of goats. Semi-relatedly, I own a pair of kid-skin gloves, I enjoy tormenting human children, telling them that I could use a new pair of gloves. Few of them understand my humour. I don't doubt I have caused nightmares.
Where am I going with this? Well, it's all lead to an interesting few text messages, the kind that you might not see every day:
Sarah: "Matt, have you got the farmers phone number? There's a dead mother cow in the front yard next door. The calf is snuggling up to it while another cow eats the placenta"
Matt: "I don't have his number, how do you know it's dead and not just chillin after birthing a calf?"
Sarah: "Well, it doesn't seem to be breathing, and its not responding to me mooing at it"
I hadn't realised she was multilingual, let alone a bovine-whisperer. Handy skills to have if you're ever required to converse with a cow. Or a dead one, as is this case. Would that make her a bovine-ghost-whisperer? Jennifer Love Hewitt better watch her back!*
In my folly or forgetfulness, I didn't ask her what she specifically moo'd at the cow to get its attention, what do you moo at a cow? Something simple and practical like "Hey cow, are you dead" (using google translation it comes out as 'Moo. Moo moo. Moooooo. Mo-oo?') or something alarmist like "Oi Cow! Look out! That other cow is eating your placenta! Its stealing your stem cells!!"? Is it possible that the placenta-chomping cow was harvesting stem cells in an attempt to raise the mother cow from the dead, thus de-oprhanising the calf, and making a major medical breakthrough at the same time? We may never know.
So, with my birthday only hours away, and the party not far behind it, I am thinking that steak will be the meal of the day. Not only would it be fresher than most meat you'd buy at a supermarket, it would also be very free. Although I'm sure the farmer might sense something odd is going on when a horde of hat wearing weirdos chow down on an unbutchered cow carcass as an orphan calf moos sadly in the background. Given that I don't have much experience in cooking full animals, I can only imagine you just cover it in petrol, throw a match and let nature do its thing? Save me the face, that's where the best meat is!
At Kieran's suggestion, I asked Sarah if she'd mind cutting off a few steaks for me. Her response was that she may never eat again. I declined Kieran's further suggestions of using exceptionally lame, dad-style jokes about 'the situation mooving you' and other such nonsense.
*Whilst I am aware of the Ghost Whisperer show, and the JLH is the 'star', I can happily say I have never sat through
more than 3 minutes of it, total, in my lifetime.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Coming Clean on a Modern Day Addiction
A quick "define:addiction" search on Google, shows that: "Addiction is a studio album by former Deep Purple, Black Sabbath and Trapeze vocalist/ bassist Glenn Hughes. It was released in 1996 on Zero Corporation, SPV and Shrapnel records and was Hughes’ fifth solo studio album." Wait, what? That's not what I was looking for. Seriously though, that shits real, Google told me so.So the addiction I'm referring to is more of the 'being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming'. Addiction is an interesting word, it instantly conjures up mental pictures of junkies in putrid conditions, and yet it is a word, a concept, that reaches far further than substances alone and because of this I much prefer the definition of 'excessive, repetitive use of pleasurable activities'. Oh yeah, stew in those words for a bit. So these days, in this techno-crazy modern world, you can be addicted to all sorts of things, like TV, gambling, drugs and computer games. If you find it pleasurable and you do it 'too much', sugar, you're addicted.
So my addiction, or at least the one I’m focussed on sorting out now, is mutherflippin eBay. Not a day goes by when I don’t long to be bathed in its glow. I daydream of spending hours flicking through pages in the hopes that that one hard to find item will appear, and upon clicking the ‘Buy It Now’ button, my life becomes entirely complete, or at least until the next thing I want pops up and I’m empty again. I once searched ‘Mini Cooper S’ on eBay, and then proceeded to trawl through all 9809 items, or 184 pages (at 50 items per page) with no specific aim or want. In fact, just in researching those figures I managed to spend a good half hour trawling through things I don’t want or need.
At the height of my madness, I may have been waiting on more than 15 packages to be delivered at any one time. Even in what I would consider a quiet period I’d have 3-5 outstanding items hurrying across the globe to be with me. I feel very uneasy if I have less than 3 items on their way. I can’t explain it. Traditionally, until eBay sunk its claws in, I wasn’t that much of an impulse buyer. In fact I wasn’t much of a buyer at all, now I can’t help myself.
Flash forward a little, to the present day, and it’s been 14 days since I last bought anything off eBay. That may seem fairly pathetic, but the road to recovery is a long and winding one, and we all have to start somewhere. Apparently if you can last 28 days without whatever you’re addicted to, you become free of the addiction and will be welcomed back into society. Technically, I don’t think society has cast me out yet anyways, maybe one day there’ll come a time when eBay addiction is recognised and frowned upon, but today is not the day.
Anyways, 14 is half of 28, so I guess I’ve reached the point of no return, or at least the point where it would be stupid to return cos ‘you’ve just done SO well up until now’. Will I write a follow up come 28 days? Unlikely. Will I get back on the bandwagon and go bananas again in the future? Probably.
Let my addiction be a lesson to you all, and don’t follow me down this dangerous path of self gratification, materialism and impulsiveness. You never know, it could be you sitting on your eBay-bought couch, using your eBay-bought laptop, while you wait for your eBay-bought socks to dry on the clothes rack you got off eBay, so you can put them on and go to the post office to pick up the next 11 packages with your name on it.
You have been warned.
So my addiction, or at least the one I’m focussed on sorting out now, is mutherflippin eBay. Not a day goes by when I don’t long to be bathed in its glow. I daydream of spending hours flicking through pages in the hopes that that one hard to find item will appear, and upon clicking the ‘Buy It Now’ button, my life becomes entirely complete, or at least until the next thing I want pops up and I’m empty again. I once searched ‘Mini Cooper S’ on eBay, and then proceeded to trawl through all 9809 items, or 184 pages (at 50 items per page) with no specific aim or want. In fact, just in researching those figures I managed to spend a good half hour trawling through things I don’t want or need.
At the height of my madness, I may have been waiting on more than 15 packages to be delivered at any one time. Even in what I would consider a quiet period I’d have 3-5 outstanding items hurrying across the globe to be with me. I feel very uneasy if I have less than 3 items on their way. I can’t explain it. Traditionally, until eBay sunk its claws in, I wasn’t that much of an impulse buyer. In fact I wasn’t much of a buyer at all, now I can’t help myself.
Flash forward a little, to the present day, and it’s been 14 days since I last bought anything off eBay. That may seem fairly pathetic, but the road to recovery is a long and winding one, and we all have to start somewhere. Apparently if you can last 28 days without whatever you’re addicted to, you become free of the addiction and will be welcomed back into society. Technically, I don’t think society has cast me out yet anyways, maybe one day there’ll come a time when eBay addiction is recognised and frowned upon, but today is not the day.
Anyways, 14 is half of 28, so I guess I’ve reached the point of no return, or at least the point where it would be stupid to return cos ‘you’ve just done SO well up until now’. Will I write a follow up come 28 days? Unlikely. Will I get back on the bandwagon and go bananas again in the future? Probably.
Let my addiction be a lesson to you all, and don’t follow me down this dangerous path of self gratification, materialism and impulsiveness. You never know, it could be you sitting on your eBay-bought couch, using your eBay-bought laptop, while you wait for your eBay-bought socks to dry on the clothes rack you got off eBay, so you can put them on and go to the post office to pick up the next 11 packages with your name on it.
You have been warned.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Talent here, talent there, talent everywhere (except on this blog of course)
So maybe I don’t have that much to say, maybe I am out of motivation, maybe I’m just lazy. Either way, it’s been too long between blogs and inspiration has been severely lacking lately.
Last night I tuned into 3MDR 97.1FM to catch the ‘Pilot the Dune’ show. Mates of mine, Cozza & Tristan, started it a couple weeks back and I thought the least I could do was tune in and see what it was all about. I have to say I’m impressed. The banter was funny, and it moved quicker than I thought it would. The true gem in this was the playlist, if it’s that calibre every week Ill definitely be a ‘long time listener, first time caller’. It was a great mix of old-school rock, stoner rock and soulful grooves. Check it out here: http://www.3mdr.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=12&Itemid=28
So this plug for the boys leads me into another highly talented friend, Mr K-Funk O’Callaghan. I say leads me into, and upon reviewing it, it does sound quite gay. Maybe rephrase that bit. Anyways, I read his blog daily and it always inspires me to think about ‘stuff’. Kieran is highly prolific in that he posts everyday, he always has some good shots, the words are worth some thought and you can pretty much learn something interesting with every read. Do yerself a favour and check him out: http://www.thelongacre.blogspot.com
Being surrounded by all these talented and motivated people is both a gift and a curse. On one hand, it’s a bit of a fire-starter, these people get me thinking, get me excited to do things, to create. On the other hand, I think “well, these dudes have got it covered, Ill just sit back and enjoy it”. It’s a struggle, Ill tell ya that much, but its one I quite enjoy and I’m certain I wouldn’t change it for the world. A quick shout out to Bedford, another immensely talented mofo, it’s been far too long between drinks mate.
In boring news, I have a new job, and its going quite well. Perched high in the sky, on the 31st floor, I now analyse product and technology development in the innovative energy area. After my failed attempts of being a porn star, these days I’ll just settle for a job with anal in the title. Boom-boom. This satisfies the inner geek in me. More coin doesn’t hurt either.
The OCD Mini project is coming to a head, and I can almost see a light at the end of the modding tunnel…I’ve been turned on by the stealth/blackout look after a bit of a false start with some chromey stuff…So I ordered some spankin black wheels and I’m sure they’re hurrying across the globe to be with me. At some point I do intend to write a fairly in depth entry as to what I’ve done, yes I’ll even have some pictures. Until then, use your imagination!
Well, Id like to say the updates will be more frequent, but let’s face it, I’m flaky at best. Until then, enjoy these little morsels I have left, and check out some real talent.
Last night I tuned into 3MDR 97.1FM to catch the ‘Pilot the Dune’ show. Mates of mine, Cozza & Tristan, started it a couple weeks back and I thought the least I could do was tune in and see what it was all about. I have to say I’m impressed. The banter was funny, and it moved quicker than I thought it would. The true gem in this was the playlist, if it’s that calibre every week Ill definitely be a ‘long time listener, first time caller’. It was a great mix of old-school rock, stoner rock and soulful grooves. Check it out here: http://www.3mdr.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=12&Itemid=28
So this plug for the boys leads me into another highly talented friend, Mr K-Funk O’Callaghan. I say leads me into, and upon reviewing it, it does sound quite gay. Maybe rephrase that bit. Anyways, I read his blog daily and it always inspires me to think about ‘stuff’. Kieran is highly prolific in that he posts everyday, he always has some good shots, the words are worth some thought and you can pretty much learn something interesting with every read. Do yerself a favour and check him out: http://www.thelongacre.blogspot.com
Being surrounded by all these talented and motivated people is both a gift and a curse. On one hand, it’s a bit of a fire-starter, these people get me thinking, get me excited to do things, to create. On the other hand, I think “well, these dudes have got it covered, Ill just sit back and enjoy it”. It’s a struggle, Ill tell ya that much, but its one I quite enjoy and I’m certain I wouldn’t change it for the world. A quick shout out to Bedford, another immensely talented mofo, it’s been far too long between drinks mate.
In boring news, I have a new job, and its going quite well. Perched high in the sky, on the 31st floor, I now analyse product and technology development in the innovative energy area. After my failed attempts of being a porn star, these days I’ll just settle for a job with anal in the title. Boom-boom. This satisfies the inner geek in me. More coin doesn’t hurt either.
The OCD Mini project is coming to a head, and I can almost see a light at the end of the modding tunnel…I’ve been turned on by the stealth/blackout look after a bit of a false start with some chromey stuff…So I ordered some spankin black wheels and I’m sure they’re hurrying across the globe to be with me. At some point I do intend to write a fairly in depth entry as to what I’ve done, yes I’ll even have some pictures. Until then, use your imagination!
Well, Id like to say the updates will be more frequent, but let’s face it, I’m flaky at best. Until then, enjoy these little morsels I have left, and check out some real talent.
Friday, June 11, 2010
OMFG Its June.
So much for productivity, where are all my blog entries? Nowhere, that’s where.
It’s been a rollercoaster of stuff since I last chewed the internet’s ear off. I’d like to start with the most apt description of my current hairstyle yet, courtesy of the inimitable Kieran who claims “You’ve got the hair of a mad woman’s vagina, Matt”. One might be prompted to ask how he knows what a mad woman’s vagina looks like, but one might be best to not ask. I’d like to think it’s pretty accurate, without feeling the need to visually verify this with said mad woman.
What else? How about a PHE-NOM-E-NOMNOMNOMNOM? I’m referring to the Don Dons phenomenon to be precise. Even more precisely, I mean Chicken Curry Don. It comes out in less than 2 minutes, and tastes like sex in your mouth (the good kind, that people usually want). This Japanese curry is best consumed with crazy Irishmen ranting at you in Flagstaff gardens. It helps to know the crazy Irishman ranting at you, but it isn’t mandatory. It could be a less-crazy Guatemalan for all I care, just don’t do it alone. We tend to frequent Don Too’s, apparently there’s a Don Dons and a Don Three’s as well, but I am yet to visit the other sites. The walk through the lanes and alleyways and various other types of roads is always an interesting one, both from a getting-to-know-the-city point of view, as well as listening to Kieran’s daily rants. In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not gay for Kieran, but he likes to think I am.
MINI mania is nearing fever-pitch, with many hours being consumed by my current project of revitalising and meaning-up the interior. Black Carbon Fiber vinyl throughout, is coming up roses. Its time consuming work that requires the kind of patience usually reserved for saints and a pair of hands that like to keep busy. I spent a fortnight worth of nights honing some skills with vinyl wrapping, and kicked off the real runs over last weekend. What the fuck are you talking about Matt? Can you provide pictures? I don’t know, stuff OK and no, not yet. Soon though, soon all will be revealed.
Hmm mm mm, what else? That random opportunity I was banging on about last time eventuated to an official opportunity, and I’m now moving on next month to become a Product & Technology Development Analyst (to the stars). Looking forward to a new set of challenges in an area I’m interested in. More pay can’t hurt either. Personal goal, achieved. Bring on my 30th birthday.
Apart from that everything is tickety-boo, I’m practising the setlist for the wedding later in the month, to some success, I’m rocking out with whoever is willing to enter the studio and I have done a fair job of staying away from eBay. I said ‘fair’, not great.
Well, Im gonna get back to doing 2 fifths of fuck all.
It’s been a rollercoaster of stuff since I last chewed the internet’s ear off. I’d like to start with the most apt description of my current hairstyle yet, courtesy of the inimitable Kieran who claims “You’ve got the hair of a mad woman’s vagina, Matt”. One might be prompted to ask how he knows what a mad woman’s vagina looks like, but one might be best to not ask. I’d like to think it’s pretty accurate, without feeling the need to visually verify this with said mad woman.
What else? How about a PHE-NOM-E-NOMNOMNOMNOM? I’m referring to the Don Dons phenomenon to be precise. Even more precisely, I mean Chicken Curry Don. It comes out in less than 2 minutes, and tastes like sex in your mouth (the good kind, that people usually want). This Japanese curry is best consumed with crazy Irishmen ranting at you in Flagstaff gardens. It helps to know the crazy Irishman ranting at you, but it isn’t mandatory. It could be a less-crazy Guatemalan for all I care, just don’t do it alone. We tend to frequent Don Too’s, apparently there’s a Don Dons and a Don Three’s as well, but I am yet to visit the other sites. The walk through the lanes and alleyways and various other types of roads is always an interesting one, both from a getting-to-know-the-city point of view, as well as listening to Kieran’s daily rants. In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not gay for Kieran, but he likes to think I am.
MINI mania is nearing fever-pitch, with many hours being consumed by my current project of revitalising and meaning-up the interior. Black Carbon Fiber vinyl throughout, is coming up roses. Its time consuming work that requires the kind of patience usually reserved for saints and a pair of hands that like to keep busy. I spent a fortnight worth of nights honing some skills with vinyl wrapping, and kicked off the real runs over last weekend. What the fuck are you talking about Matt? Can you provide pictures? I don’t know, stuff OK and no, not yet. Soon though, soon all will be revealed.
Hmm mm mm, what else? That random opportunity I was banging on about last time eventuated to an official opportunity, and I’m now moving on next month to become a Product & Technology Development Analyst (to the stars). Looking forward to a new set of challenges in an area I’m interested in. More pay can’t hurt either. Personal goal, achieved. Bring on my 30th birthday.
Apart from that everything is tickety-boo, I’m practising the setlist for the wedding later in the month, to some success, I’m rocking out with whoever is willing to enter the studio and I have done a fair job of staying away from eBay. I said ‘fair’, not great.
Well, Im gonna get back to doing 2 fifths of fuck all.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Archive from 2007: Ireland Part 1
>Hi All from sunny Ireland. Well, sunny might be a bit of an exaggeration but a good description of my disposition right now.
Firstly I have to say thankyou to all who participated in the Desert Island MP3 Player Project, especially Melanie, Graham & Stacey for orgnanising it. Its the most awesomely personalised gift I've ever had and it chokes me up just thinking about it. I sat down on the first flight and read the accompanying book, took a while to figure how to drive the mp3 player but got there in the end - and then found myself tearing up while listening to a few peoples little voice messages between the songs. The dude next to me gave me some weird looks but I didnt care. So thanks to everyone again, you've made me feel very loved.
Got in a little delayed on the last connecting flight but got in no worries and was greeted at the airport by Elaine with some colourful Welcome to Ireland signs - in English & Irish! Chilled out by a lake chatting and catching up on a days worth of cigarettes for the first couple of hours then Lainey took me home. I met so so many of the Moynihan family - probably over a dozen on the first day! Elaine's folks, Jim & Jeanette have setup the attic bedroom for Elaine and I, it's all decked out with Australiana to keep me from being homesick. They are all so so nice. The room is actually Elaine's sister, Niamh's (pronounced nee-ov) room and she has been kind enough to move in with her brother James... Its freaking me out as she's so similar to my sister Bec, the way she talks and dresses and stuff, obviously with the accent though. Speaking of accents, jesus, it sounds like everyone is singing to each other instead of talking, I feel my voice to be so bland and monotone in comparison, cats had my tongue a bit because of this but im getting used to the bogan Aussie accent little by little (maaate).
First Irish meal was lunch, a full on roast dinner which had no less than 3 types of potatoes - mashed, roasted and croquette(ed?) which was ace after shitty airplane food. I will be fat as a house within a fortnight if they keep fedding me this well.
On Monday Elaine whisked me and her friend Emma away to a place called Youghal (pronounced Yall) where the family has a permanent caravan setup down there. Had my first pint of guinness on the way down there (only about 40mins from Cork) and got to witness a MAGIC ROAD. You stop the car at this particular tree, turn it off, when you let the handbrake go the car rolls UPHILL. I sh!t you not, I made her do it a dozen times, it's definitely uphill and I definitely cannot explain it. So so cool. We went on a bit of a hike to a place called Mahon Falls which was amazing, Ill hook youse up with some photos soon. Got some neat little videos too.
Emma went home on Tuesday morning and Lainey and I stayed on for another night, drinking vino, playing cards, listnening to dodgy Irish radio (its just as bad as Nova or Fox FM, you'd love it Graham) and going on long walks in the brisk Irish air by the brisk Irish sea - did I mention Im in Ireland? The weather had been mostly sunny and quite warm but there is always a biting wind present that cuts through you. It does not get dark here until 11pm and its not even daylight savings yet, I swear there is so much daylight its like living 2 days at once. 5.30am to 11pm everyday.
Wednesday arvo we strolled around Cork city, Elaine had some things to do and I was happy enough to look around for a couple of hours. Its quite a beautiful city, lots of old buildings and it sits on the River Lee. Not much bigger than Dandenong I'd say but still plenty going on. Around 5 we hit a pub for a 'quick pint' which ended up being a pint and some whisky, then kicking on to Emma & Aidan's shanty (totally like mine) for wine and sweet sweet Irish hash. Had an absolute ball - they are all nutters and so friendly. Everyone sang songs and I even strummed out a few songs to some roaring applause which was quite nice. Emma & Aidan fed me 4 kinds of potato chips Ive never had but may well live off for my time here. We polished off 4 bottles of wine and a good few spliffs before we walked home p!ssed and stoned at 2am. Parents or relatives can disregard that hash part, I'd never do anything of the sort. :P no harm.
On Thursday Elaine & I headed off on another road trip, this time to West Cork with our ultimate destination being Galway - no, I dont know where it is - google it yourself :P. We camped on a gorgeous beach, it cant have been 10 degrees but Lainey was jumping in for a swim, I am not game enough to try the Atlantic just yet. We camped by a lake at the foot of a mountain last night in County Kerry after seeing some of the most gorgeous countryside - again, i'll figure out how to work google photos and post some when im on my own computer. It was bloody freezing last night, it didnt stop raining and the tent leaked quite heavily. As I sit in this internet cafe in Tralee I am still damp and a bit cold but loving the adventure of it all.
Elaine has been the best tour guide, travelling companion & friend. She's so kind and caring, always singing and ranting away about the places we are and such. She's a little too generous in my books though as I've nearly been here a week and my total expenses have been 3 pints (maybe $25 aussie at the most). I can see where she gets it from - her whole family is amazing and have made me feel really at home (not that we've been there much) - always feeding me and filling me in on the local goss. School holidays is about to start for everyone - they get 3 months off (the whole summer) and are heading to Youghal for 6 weeks and then the whole family is going to Bulgaria - I'm thinking of heading over to London to visit Andy if he ever writes me back and if not I might do some cross country cycling. Either way Im lookin forward to being cast into the world alone for a bit.
Well my time is running out so I best be off, hope everyone is doing well and missing me (hahahahaha). Im not feeling the homesickness yet but maybe one day...We'll be back in Cork early next week, maybe Tuesday at the latest - who knows...I've tracked down some wireless internet access prepaid jiggers so when I'm on my own computer and have some time ill do some personalised emails for you.
Much love,
Matty Boom Batty
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Uno, Opportunity & Rock. Also featuring 'Interesting News About Mice'
I was telling Kieran today that life is like a game of Uno. I use Uno as the example, as I don't know, nor care to know, any other card games (with the exception of snap!). You get dealt the hand youre dealt, you take a hit when you have to, you take a win when you can and, even if youre down to your last card, it's never over. It's an analogy I've used in the past and I'll continue to use it well into the foreseeable future.I've been co-located in two (occasionally three) offices lately, it's making me grumpy, (more) cynical and just generally not happy, also exhausted. Kieran's happy go lucky rants have kept me a little more sane than I feel I would otherwise be in this kind of situation, it was good to throw some back at him.
I stop into 'home base' on the way home from other locations most nights, mostly to collect packages (see: eBay addiction story not yet told), but also as a way of holding on to my desk there and to shoot out some emails in peace. Tonight's pit stop proved eventful and, if I were an astrologer I would phrase it like this: "an opportunity may present itself this week. or next. also, avoid cereal". So guess we'll wait and see what happens on that front, but its been a glimmer of hope in an all together dreary week.
One of the few positive things going on this week, has been the constant rotation of the new Deftones album, "Diamond Eyes". I jumped on the Deftones bandwagon circa "Around The Fur" and have always rated "White Pony" in my top albums lists. I lost them, or maybe they lost me, with "Deftones" & "Saturday Night Wrist", but this album is not only amazing but a return to form of the Deftones I know and love. From chaotic, intense passages of hard rockin goodness, to floating beauty, it is one of those albums that takes you somewhere.. I have been making the most of the longer commutes to work getting to know this album more intimately and with each listen it seems to reveal new layers. Anyone who enjoys a bit of hard rock / alt metal / rock or whatever should check it out.Did you know that mice don't like the smell of peppermint? I sure didn't, that is until this week when Sarah gave me the low-down. Apparently what we humans mostly find delicious and fragrantly beautiful, is repulsive to mice, to the point where they will knowingly and willing jump into rusty old traps with no bait just to avoid the thought of even seeing a peppermint crisp. A few drops of peppermint oil on some strategically placed tissues will deter or possibly repel mice. A pleasant side effect is that your house will also smell favourable to dentists world wide. An unpleasant side effect is that it will smell SO minty fresh, that your eyes will water in every room of the house.
Well, I'm off to channel some frustration into the drumkit...and maybe the distortion pedal.
Note to Facebook: I left you because I couldn't say any of this in 400 characters or less.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Shit Magnet Chronicles, Vol I.
What a night. It was supposed to go smoothly. I had played it out in my head a few times over the last week, and none of the scenarios resembled anything that actually happened in reality.
I ironed my shirt, polished up my wit, packed my charm and charisma and headed off to Fitzroy. The drive relaxed me, with a purpose built 10 hour road trip mix (grossly over estimating the travel time) and the wind in my hair. I got there forty minutes early after nothing short of miraculous driving conditions and sat in the car smoking and contemplating the evening at hand. The butterflies in the stomach were only just noticeable and for the most part I was cool, calm and collected as I knocked on her door.
After a timid knock, the door creaks open. She was as gorgeous as I had remembered. She had one of those ten thousand watt smiles coupled with piercing blue eyes and goldilocks curls. The walk to Brunswick St was filled with good conversation and good humour. Smiles all round for everyone. The first hitch came when the place we had intended to eat at was booked out. So, flying by the seat of our pants, we eventually found somewhere else, got some pints and sat down.
More fantastic conversation, my light-hearted, starkly honest, self-deprecating humour appeared to be winning, and she herself came across as a very intelligent, fun and together person. We sank a couple of pints of cider, putting off ordering food. Then, after one of her many toilet breaks, she promptly sat down and told me that she had gone on a date the night prior and that it was really great and he was cool. Im not sure entirely, but I think I was friend-zoned.
I was dumbstruck, it was so out of leftfield, and something you certainly can’t be prepared for. My old friend Social Awkwardness kicked in as I stuttered out random syllables trying to think of something comprehensible to say. I was truly speechless. I thought the night was going well, obviously not as well as the other guy had done though. Note to self: No matter how rad you think you are, there’s always someone cooler than you.
Somehow, and I really don’t have any recollection of how the conversation progressed, we moved on from that speed bump. We awkwardly order food, it comes out quickly. Not long after that I felt the need for an urgent evacuation of stomach bile and promptly got rid of dinner in fine projectile vomit form.
We finished our drinks and hit the pavement again. With the entirely pleasant taste of nicotine and vomit in my mouth I was dying for a mint, which I had left in the car, so, on the walk back we stopped at the mini. She was well impressed with the car, more so than she was impressed with me I think. Something very odd happened. I offered to let her go for a drive, with her at the wheel. This never happens. Ever.
So she got in and we shot off, we cruised around town in the search of the type of roads the mini was built for. As she got more confident I pushed her to go harder, to give the car a workout, and she did, quite well. Then cocky Matt kicked in and asked her to pull over to show her what I meant by ‘giving it some mustard’.
Less than two minutes later, I had taken a roundabout too fast, swerved violently and mounted a cobblestone gutter with the type of thud that brings instant dread to the pit of your stomach. The cobblestone, for those unfamiliar with such a thing, is not unlike an unmovable object, and all the German & British engineering in the world will not save you should you happen to meet one unexpectedly at moderate speeds.
Driving off it was apparent that serious damage had been done, all in the name of trying to make an impression, which I'm sure it did, just not the right kind. The wheel was unresponsive, the tyres were squealing and the unpleasant smell of burning rubber was ever present for the kilometre or two I continued on.
As it became evident that I was not going any further, I called the RACV, got the usual run around and eventually organised to be towed. It was at this point that she decided to call it quits for the night, and rightly so. Despite feeling slightly abandoned, I wouldn’t have expected her to hang around. A kiss on the cheek goodnight, an apology for being such a cock and she was off to find a taxi, didnt even give her any money for it, classy move... A good wrap up to the date, this was not.
Jimmy and his tow truck showed up forty minutes later. I spent about an hour and a half with that man and he was certainly a character. So I got in the tow truck for the drive of shame back to the repair depot and poured my heart out to Jimmy about how the night had taken some weird twists and he poured his heart to me about how fucked this countrys pension system is.
In the meantime Id organised Dunks & Lydia to come and pick me up from the repair depot in Collingwood, and couldn’t thank them enough for the late night run in. We stopped in at the shanty to get a few things, and then floored it to Beaconsfield where I would crash on their couch , so I could walk to work in the morning. It was 2.30am before I got to bed.
So I’m sitting here at work, having just organised my first ever insurance claim, pondering the events of the evening, wondering where I stand with her, wondering when my car will be fixed and what exactly I’ve done to it.
I can say without hesitation that this was the most embarrassing, socially awkward date I have ever been on, and some small part of me wouldn’t change it for the world.
Laugh now people, cos I think Im going to - quote of the night came from Lydia who told me this year i have been nothing but a 'sh!t magnet' - hear hear!
I ironed my shirt, polished up my wit, packed my charm and charisma and headed off to Fitzroy. The drive relaxed me, with a purpose built 10 hour road trip mix (grossly over estimating the travel time) and the wind in my hair. I got there forty minutes early after nothing short of miraculous driving conditions and sat in the car smoking and contemplating the evening at hand. The butterflies in the stomach were only just noticeable and for the most part I was cool, calm and collected as I knocked on her door.
After a timid knock, the door creaks open. She was as gorgeous as I had remembered. She had one of those ten thousand watt smiles coupled with piercing blue eyes and goldilocks curls. The walk to Brunswick St was filled with good conversation and good humour. Smiles all round for everyone. The first hitch came when the place we had intended to eat at was booked out. So, flying by the seat of our pants, we eventually found somewhere else, got some pints and sat down.
More fantastic conversation, my light-hearted, starkly honest, self-deprecating humour appeared to be winning, and she herself came across as a very intelligent, fun and together person. We sank a couple of pints of cider, putting off ordering food. Then, after one of her many toilet breaks, she promptly sat down and told me that she had gone on a date the night prior and that it was really great and he was cool. Im not sure entirely, but I think I was friend-zoned.
I was dumbstruck, it was so out of leftfield, and something you certainly can’t be prepared for. My old friend Social Awkwardness kicked in as I stuttered out random syllables trying to think of something comprehensible to say. I was truly speechless. I thought the night was going well, obviously not as well as the other guy had done though. Note to self: No matter how rad you think you are, there’s always someone cooler than you.
Somehow, and I really don’t have any recollection of how the conversation progressed, we moved on from that speed bump. We awkwardly order food, it comes out quickly. Not long after that I felt the need for an urgent evacuation of stomach bile and promptly got rid of dinner in fine projectile vomit form.
We finished our drinks and hit the pavement again. With the entirely pleasant taste of nicotine and vomit in my mouth I was dying for a mint, which I had left in the car, so, on the walk back we stopped at the mini. She was well impressed with the car, more so than she was impressed with me I think. Something very odd happened. I offered to let her go for a drive, with her at the wheel. This never happens. Ever.
So she got in and we shot off, we cruised around town in the search of the type of roads the mini was built for. As she got more confident I pushed her to go harder, to give the car a workout, and she did, quite well. Then cocky Matt kicked in and asked her to pull over to show her what I meant by ‘giving it some mustard’.
Less than two minutes later, I had taken a roundabout too fast, swerved violently and mounted a cobblestone gutter with the type of thud that brings instant dread to the pit of your stomach. The cobblestone, for those unfamiliar with such a thing, is not unlike an unmovable object, and all the German & British engineering in the world will not save you should you happen to meet one unexpectedly at moderate speeds.
Driving off it was apparent that serious damage had been done, all in the name of trying to make an impression, which I'm sure it did, just not the right kind. The wheel was unresponsive, the tyres were squealing and the unpleasant smell of burning rubber was ever present for the kilometre or two I continued on.
As it became evident that I was not going any further, I called the RACV, got the usual run around and eventually organised to be towed. It was at this point that she decided to call it quits for the night, and rightly so. Despite feeling slightly abandoned, I wouldn’t have expected her to hang around. A kiss on the cheek goodnight, an apology for being such a cock and she was off to find a taxi, didnt even give her any money for it, classy move... A good wrap up to the date, this was not.
Jimmy and his tow truck showed up forty minutes later. I spent about an hour and a half with that man and he was certainly a character. So I got in the tow truck for the drive of shame back to the repair depot and poured my heart out to Jimmy about how the night had taken some weird twists and he poured his heart to me about how fucked this countrys pension system is.
In the meantime Id organised Dunks & Lydia to come and pick me up from the repair depot in Collingwood, and couldn’t thank them enough for the late night run in. We stopped in at the shanty to get a few things, and then floored it to Beaconsfield where I would crash on their couch , so I could walk to work in the morning. It was 2.30am before I got to bed.
So I’m sitting here at work, having just organised my first ever insurance claim, pondering the events of the evening, wondering where I stand with her, wondering when my car will be fixed and what exactly I’ve done to it.
I can say without hesitation that this was the most embarrassing, socially awkward date I have ever been on, and some small part of me wouldn’t change it for the world.
Laugh now people, cos I think Im going to - quote of the night came from Lydia who told me this year i have been nothing but a 'sh!t magnet' - hear hear!
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