So I was sitting at the train station the other day, and this guy came up to me and was all 'Hey, dude, do you know where the toilets are?'
...
Ok, now let me just say one thing; whoever worked on the design for the new St Leonards train station, and came up the idea of only putting public bathrooms on one side of the barriers is a complete moron. I don't know how many times people have come up to me, while I'm in line to buy a ticket or whatever, asked me where the toilets are, and then abused the crap out of me when I tell them.
No, really.
Like it's my fault they have to pay $2.40 to take a leak. Like it was my idea to have the bathrooms inside the station. Like I was the one who came up with the design for the new St Leonards train station - hey, they built it in what, 1999? When I was what, 8 or 9 years old? Yeah, that totally makes sense. But whatever. Thats another blog for another day.
So, I turned to this guy and said 'Hey man, who needs a toilet? You think they had toilets in the Garden of Eden? No! And that garden was perfect man! Who needs a toilet? Sounds like you're working for your bladder man...visualiiiiise!!'
No, thats a lie.
What I actually said was 'The only toilets are inside the train station', and pointed to where they were.
And then the guy started yelling at me about how stupid it was to only put toilets on one side of the barriers.
Sigh.
Anyway, the real reason I'm blogging about this - yeah, there is actually a real reason - is that when the guy called me 'Dude', I got to thinking...
I love the word dude. And I love calling people dude. But you know what I love calling people, even more than dude?
Dudette.
Seriously.
Remember dudette? Whatever happened to dudette? I feel like it wasn't so long ago that everyone called each other dudette. And then suddenly, without warning, dudette was gone. Missing. It had vanished, without a trace. And the saddest thing is, I didn't even notice!
And now nobody uses dudette. Not even me!
So I'm taking a stand. I'm bringing back dudette.
Who's with me?!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Right.
Is it just me, or does Meryl Streep look TOTALLY drunk during the credits of Mamma Mia?
You know, the part where they all come out in those crazy costumes and dance on the light-up stage?
And first they sing Dancing Queen, then there's a break, and then they do Waterloo?
Ok, grab your DVD, and fast-forward to that part - the break I mean.
As much as I love Meryl, she looks absolutely insane. First she wobbles around on her heels a bit, then she crouches down and walks toward the camera whispering 'What are you looking at? What are YOU looking AT?'. Then she shuffles left, then right, then left again very quickly - you know, like shes a bit off her balance - then she screams 'Do you want another one? DOOO you want another ONNEEEE???' Then the music starts up again, and she staggers around the stage while everyone else performs the whole routine in unison.
It's absolutely sensational.
Is it just me, or does Meryl Streep look TOTALLY drunk during the credits of Mamma Mia?
You know, the part where they all come out in those crazy costumes and dance on the light-up stage?
And first they sing Dancing Queen, then there's a break, and then they do Waterloo?
Ok, grab your DVD, and fast-forward to that part - the break I mean.
As much as I love Meryl, she looks absolutely insane. First she wobbles around on her heels a bit, then she crouches down and walks toward the camera whispering 'What are you looking at? What are YOU looking AT?'. Then she shuffles left, then right, then left again very quickly - you know, like shes a bit off her balance - then she screams 'Do you want another one? DOOO you want another ONNEEEE???' Then the music starts up again, and she staggers around the stage while everyone else performs the whole routine in unison.
It's absolutely sensational.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Things we learn when holidaying at Lord Howe Island
Hot road + bare feet = bad idea
Funny. I'm not sure how many times I have to subject the soles of my feet to vicious heat-induced blisters before I really figure this one out. No, really. I mean it. Whenever I'm about to walk 3km along a tar sealed road with no shoes on, I hear two things in my head. One, the voice of reason: "Find a pair of shoes. I beg of you, please. Please keep in mind what happened last time. Please keep in mind that your feet are made of delicate human flesh, and nothing more. Please keep in mind that if you don't get off your lazy ass and find a pair of shoes before you walk along that road, I will transfer into another human body and kill you myself."
And two, the - far more dominant - voice of procrastination:
"Ah, screw it. You don't need shoes. What's the worst that could happen?"
There is no such thing as a comfortable bike seat
So apparently the bicycle was invented in 1817. That's, what, 192 years ago? And they couldn't have come up with something more comfortable in that time? Honestly, sitting bare-assed in a pit of syringes would probably feel better than getting back on a bike - I never thought, in my whole life, that I'd have to endure taking my undies off with a pair of tweezers.
If you have to ask the waiters to remove the nuts from a particular meal, its probably not going to taste good
I don't know what it was, but I've never had so much bad luck with Pinetrees lunches in my whole life. Ok, let me explain. Pinetrees, the hotel we stay at every year, offers 2 different options for every meal. And for basically the first week of my holiday, BOTH options contained nuts. No, really. BOTH. So here is the rest of my family, enjoying Thai kingfish curry and tandoori chicken, and I'm pleading with the waitress for "the roasted beetroot and hazelnut salad without the hazelnuts, or hazelnut vinaigrette".
Maybe spiders DO hate Julia more than me
Ok. I know! I never thought I'd be speaking - or, rather, typing - those words. But in my room, we only experienced one spider attack in ten days. And while I did consider it fairly traumatising (that spider was almost 5cm wide!!), I do admit it was nothing compared to the family of dinner-plate sized Huntsman's who decided to construct their nest in Julia's bathroom cupboard.
My sister Catherine can actually read
Geez - who'd of thought? All these years, here I was thinking she was a closet illiterate. And it turns out that she simply doesn't like to read. Wait, scrap that. Didn't like to read. Of course, since I introduced her to the wonder that is The Twilight Series, she's become as infatuated with Edward Cullen as the rest of us. Oh, and even better - I've finally found someone who loathes Jacob Black as much as I do!!
Cockroaches can fly
Did anyone else not know this? Ok, I'm probably an idiot. But I had NO idea that cockroaches even had wings, let alone the ability to fly. And this is what happened when I found out:
Jacki: (Walks into bathroom to change into bikini, pauses, and then emits what can only be described as a cross between a wail and a shout) Ah!!
Mum: What?
Jacki: (Running out of bathroom) Cockroach! Big! Big cockroach!
Mum: (Sighing impatiently) Where?
Jacki: Above the door! Please, please get it out!
Mum: Jacki, just deal with it.
Jacki: But Mum -
Mum: It won't hurt you! Now hurry up and get changed.
Jacki: (Sulking) Fine. (Walks back into bathroom, strips down, and reaches across bathroom for bikini, which is hanging on a towel rack. Suddenly, the cockroach takes flight, aiming straight - and I kid you not - for my face) AAAAAHHHH!! (Yeah. This time it was a full-on scream)
Mum: (From outside the bathroom) Oh, for Heaven's sake. What now?
Jacki: (Near hysteria) You said! You said it wouldn't attack me!
Mum: (Speaking over the sound of my dad and sister absolutely pissing themselves) It attacked you?
Jacki: My face!! Oh, it attacked my face!
Catherine: Well then come outside!
Jacki: I haven't got any pants on!!
...
And so on and so-forth.
And thats it.
Stay tuned for next year.
Funny. I'm not sure how many times I have to subject the soles of my feet to vicious heat-induced blisters before I really figure this one out. No, really. I mean it. Whenever I'm about to walk 3km along a tar sealed road with no shoes on, I hear two things in my head. One, the voice of reason: "Find a pair of shoes. I beg of you, please. Please keep in mind what happened last time. Please keep in mind that your feet are made of delicate human flesh, and nothing more. Please keep in mind that if you don't get off your lazy ass and find a pair of shoes before you walk along that road, I will transfer into another human body and kill you myself."
And two, the - far more dominant - voice of procrastination:
"Ah, screw it. You don't need shoes. What's the worst that could happen?"
There is no such thing as a comfortable bike seat
So apparently the bicycle was invented in 1817. That's, what, 192 years ago? And they couldn't have come up with something more comfortable in that time? Honestly, sitting bare-assed in a pit of syringes would probably feel better than getting back on a bike - I never thought, in my whole life, that I'd have to endure taking my undies off with a pair of tweezers.
If you have to ask the waiters to remove the nuts from a particular meal, its probably not going to taste good
I don't know what it was, but I've never had so much bad luck with Pinetrees lunches in my whole life. Ok, let me explain. Pinetrees, the hotel we stay at every year, offers 2 different options for every meal. And for basically the first week of my holiday, BOTH options contained nuts. No, really. BOTH. So here is the rest of my family, enjoying Thai kingfish curry and tandoori chicken, and I'm pleading with the waitress for "the roasted beetroot and hazelnut salad without the hazelnuts, or hazelnut vinaigrette".
Maybe spiders DO hate Julia more than me
Ok. I know! I never thought I'd be speaking - or, rather, typing - those words. But in my room, we only experienced one spider attack in ten days. And while I did consider it fairly traumatising (that spider was almost 5cm wide!!), I do admit it was nothing compared to the family of dinner-plate sized Huntsman's who decided to construct their nest in Julia's bathroom cupboard.
My sister Catherine can actually read
Geez - who'd of thought? All these years, here I was thinking she was a closet illiterate. And it turns out that she simply doesn't like to read. Wait, scrap that. Didn't like to read. Of course, since I introduced her to the wonder that is The Twilight Series, she's become as infatuated with Edward Cullen as the rest of us. Oh, and even better - I've finally found someone who loathes Jacob Black as much as I do!!
Cockroaches can fly
Did anyone else not know this? Ok, I'm probably an idiot. But I had NO idea that cockroaches even had wings, let alone the ability to fly. And this is what happened when I found out:
Jacki: (Walks into bathroom to change into bikini, pauses, and then emits what can only be described as a cross between a wail and a shout) Ah!!
Mum: What?
Jacki: (Running out of bathroom) Cockroach! Big! Big cockroach!
Mum: (Sighing impatiently) Where?
Jacki: Above the door! Please, please get it out!
Mum: Jacki, just deal with it.
Jacki: But Mum -
Mum: It won't hurt you! Now hurry up and get changed.
Jacki: (Sulking) Fine. (Walks back into bathroom, strips down, and reaches across bathroom for bikini, which is hanging on a towel rack. Suddenly, the cockroach takes flight, aiming straight - and I kid you not - for my face) AAAAAHHHH!! (Yeah. This time it was a full-on scream)
Mum: (From outside the bathroom) Oh, for Heaven's sake. What now?
Jacki: (Near hysteria) You said! You said it wouldn't attack me!
Mum: (Speaking over the sound of my dad and sister absolutely pissing themselves) It attacked you?
Jacki: My face!! Oh, it attacked my face!
Catherine: Well then come outside!
Jacki: I haven't got any pants on!!
...
And so on and so-forth.
And thats it.
Stay tuned for next year.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Bicuyni (bih-qwee-nee)
Oh, man.
I can't believe I didn't blog about this as soon as I got home today.
Ok, so most people know, I like to make jokes.
Like, not tell jokes. Make jokes. As in, I make up my own jokes.
Most of the time they're pretty terrible - I mean, I always laugh, but since I'm the kind of person who laughs at pretty much anything, that's not saying much.
...
BUT.
Like once every ten years, I'll come up with something - and, you know, I don't want to oversell this, but - something so INCREDIBLY, TRULY AND UNDENIABLY AWESOME that I wouldn't be surprised if you thought I had just stolen it from someone who is actually funny.
But I kid you not...This was all me:
(At the beach)
Megan: Did you get that bikini overseas?
Jacki: Nope, got it here.
Julia: Yeah I got mine in Sydney too.
Jacki: I didn't buy any cozzies overseas! I mean I looked for some, but I couldn't find any.
Julia: The bikini's in Peru were so feral.
Jacki: Where they made out of fur?
Julia: (To Megan) I mean they were just really hideous, like styles from the late 90's that nobody wears anymore. (Looks at Jacki like she is a moron - I mean, in a loving way, but still) No, they weren't made out of fur.
Jacki: Haha, are you sure?
Megan: Yeah, they weren't made out of animals?
Julia: Yeah, actually they were, it was so hot.
Jacki: Animal hide bikinis?
Julia: (Laughing) Yeah, they make them out of guinea pigs
(This is where the genius occurred - see, I happened to remember that in Peru, a guinea pig is called a 'cuy', which is pronounced like 'qwee'. So Julia said they made bikinis out of guinea pigs, and I said...)
Jacki: So...They were bicuynis????
Yeah. Thats right.
I'll be here til saturday.
I can't believe I didn't blog about this as soon as I got home today.
Ok, so most people know, I like to make jokes.
Like, not tell jokes. Make jokes. As in, I make up my own jokes.
Most of the time they're pretty terrible - I mean, I always laugh, but since I'm the kind of person who laughs at pretty much anything, that's not saying much.
...
BUT.
Like once every ten years, I'll come up with something - and, you know, I don't want to oversell this, but - something so INCREDIBLY, TRULY AND UNDENIABLY AWESOME that I wouldn't be surprised if you thought I had just stolen it from someone who is actually funny.
But I kid you not...This was all me:
(At the beach)
Megan: Did you get that bikini overseas?
Jacki: Nope, got it here.
Julia: Yeah I got mine in Sydney too.
Jacki: I didn't buy any cozzies overseas! I mean I looked for some, but I couldn't find any.
Julia: The bikini's in Peru were so feral.
Jacki: Where they made out of fur?
Julia: (To Megan) I mean they were just really hideous, like styles from the late 90's that nobody wears anymore. (Looks at Jacki like she is a moron - I mean, in a loving way, but still) No, they weren't made out of fur.
Jacki: Haha, are you sure?
Megan: Yeah, they weren't made out of animals?
Julia: Yeah, actually they were, it was so hot.
Jacki: Animal hide bikinis?
Julia: (Laughing) Yeah, they make them out of guinea pigs
(This is where the genius occurred - see, I happened to remember that in Peru, a guinea pig is called a 'cuy', which is pronounced like 'qwee'. So Julia said they made bikinis out of guinea pigs, and I said...)
Jacki: So...They were bicuynis????
Yeah. Thats right.
I'll be here til saturday.
my great TV moment
So I was watching Prison Break last night, and just happened to catch a really excellent TV moment:
Gretchen: (Pulls out a gun) I'm sorry Don.
Don: (Pause) Whore! You're a whore! And your mother was a whore - and her mother! And your father used to turn tricks at a gas station, because he was a whore too!!
I mean.
Thats award-worthy writing right there.
Gretchen: (Pulls out a gun) I'm sorry Don.
Don: (Pause) Whore! You're a whore! And your mother was a whore - and her mother! And your father used to turn tricks at a gas station, because he was a whore too!!
I mean.
Thats award-worthy writing right there.
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