JJ and I are renovating the pad. Renovating. Now that’s quite a loose term. Is it “renovating” when you don’t have a:
kitchen;
toilet;
bathroom;
running water that doesn’t contain loose lead bits?
It’s like a freaking dump site with missing plaster, doors, concrete floors (tiles now), staples in the kitchen floor that are wrecking my socks – my good socks from LA.
Luckily the neighbours, J’Red and T’Red, have graciously allowed us to use their bungalow dunny at all hours of the day. But really, I simply can’t bring myself to traipse all the way over to their backyard at two in the morning. Seriously, why is it that I get excruciatingly thirsty just before bed, anyway?
So I’ve found the perfect nighttime loo: the backyard drain/ground sink that all Aussie backyards had in the 50s and 60s. Much like a squat loo in the Middle East. I’m a pro with those. I became more than proficient after 3 months in Turkey and Egypt. Problem is that the opening to our “toilet” is rather large and my balance is not so great in the middle of the night. So there I was.
And so to the title of this blog post… Say no more. Please.
So on Sunday, my friend’s 10-year-old came over. It was his 10th birthday and we’d given him some smooth cashola – because we know what kids want…
Anyway, so I ask him what he’s going to get with him money and he says, “an ACDC” CD.
And I say, oh, you need some musical education. Because this is the same kid I gave my guitar to last year.
He’s going to be a rock god and he’ll have me to thank. So I’ve taken it upon myself to educate him. Musically.
So I say: “Tell you what, I’ll make you a mix tape*”.
And he says: “A what?”
And I think that when he’s old enough, I’ll have to lend him “Love is a Mix Tape” by Rob Sheffield because nothing says LOVE like a mix tape.
Like the author, I too used to listen to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 in the 80s and I’d madly try to tape my favourite tracks but Kasem’s voiceover always ruined the beginning and then end of the songs, but what was I going to do? Records were expensive and I didn’t have a job!
Actually, the one thing that said LOVE more than a mix tape was a Long Distance Dedication on Sunday Night’s AT40. Ahhhh….
*Yeah, I am still fond of saying: “yo JJ, let’s get a video from the video shop.”
So this morning I was watching the early bird news. Possibly not so early for many people, including: mothers, shift workers, insomniacs, miaw-miaw tweakers. Anyway, it was 7am and I had sat down to a cup of Brevilles “Expresso” and muesli when I saw this:
My muesli felt rather unsubstantial.
And on Monday, JJ got a bee in his bonnet about joining Costco -that modern-day marvel of convenience stores that stocks everything from Samsung TVs to 100-day grain fed beef and fresh-baked cakes. It’s true. We went for the 60-roll pack of Kleenex toilet paper.
So anyway, being all white trash (because, let’s face it, who the hell pays a $60 annual membership fee so that they can get “discount” shopping? Me and JJ, that’s who) we took our wide load shopping trolley – that was bursting with a big box of zip-lock bags, a huge box of snack-sized sultana packs and ten years’ supply of deodorant and toothpaste – to the “cafe“. I swear I have never seen so many fat people, and I mean, REALLY FAT PEOPLE, outside of The Biggest Loser – and that’s TV!
Don’t get me wrong, as a slightly overweight person, I have a great deal of sympathy for the weight-challenged among us. And a trip to the Costco “cafe”makes it so evident why Americans and Australians are among the FATTEST in the world. How can fresh food compete with a $2.49 hot dog – with all the self-serve fixins – plus a 590ml soda with refill??? Do I have to remind anyone that 2x590ml is more than 1 litre of Coke, or Pepsi or Mountain Dew or whatever… A litre!
Being a little less white trash than most, JJ and I went for the $2.99 pizza slice – no soda included. I’m sorry to say, Melbourne, that it wa one of the best pizza slices I’ve had in years.
How ironic that I went back to Weight Watchers last night.
