Farewell Casa del Mierdo Agujero / The End of an Error

You may have noticed that blog entries have dried up somewhat recently. That's because not only have I been insanely busy but also because I moved out of the Quinoa Situation. Yes, I am free of the bogan infestation that was the source of such amazing material and such blistering stupiditamazingness. I have no regrets. Some good stuff has been happening in the little while between posts, like I have been working almost non-stop at various jobs. The handyman thing is going ballistic because Perth seems to be short on people who want to work for less than $150 per hour in the mines, so I'm taking it all. Over the break I worked at a few music festivals, which was great fun, especially doing the overnight Help Pod shifts at Southbound. This was excellent kangaroo-chasing fun but it was most fun because of the people I went/worked with. We had an amazing boss who was just a panic merchant and made it all hilarious (for us). Some great stuff happened there like the time she left her key in her buggy and some randoms stole it and fanged around the campground in the middle of the night. Also when a decent-sized kangaroo got in and was jumping on tents and I had to chase it out of the campgrounds and was just being a smartarse over the radio. Also the final morning when everyone was leaving and a lot of tents and other random things got left behind. Like this!

I've also had work as an MC for a burlesque troupe and now work a couple of nights a week in a cocktail bar. So there is money to be made. Which has allowed me to purchase this Ute!

I feel so manly. And it has WA plates, so hopefully the cops will stop pulling me over all the time to ask how long I've been in WA and how long I intend to stay and then telling me that I really should get my license changed over. (This has happened 3 times in the other car)

The other good news is that I have moved to a place called Wilson, which is only about 20 mins from the city (although further from the beach than I would like to be, although it always reminds me of the movies Dennis The Menace and Castaway, which is fun). I have moved in with two young, good looking, cool people, so we have got a lot in common. It is a BIG difference. Fucking hooray.

Some crazy shit had been going down in the house over the break but I'd been too busy/tired to write about it. Here is an abridged list of things I should have taken better notes of at the time.

Cancer Girl and her boyfriend broke up and he moved out. It was very shouty but at least it was quick. He was pretty much gone the next day and then she was instantly back to texting a seemingly never-ending parade of dudes who were willing to come over at 11pm and have sex with her. Also, she was drunk a lot more often, which meant she was shouty and wrong even more than usual. Like how she thought that going out with a person who was 1/16th Aboriginal meant that was allowed to call him her "N" word. Except she didn't say "N" word, she said the actual word. When she was told that I was moving out she repeatedly called me a "faggot". I asked why leaving a shithole made me a faggot and she said "because who wouldn't want to live with two fuckin hot sluts?". I rest my case.

My favourite thing about C-Girl was that she had been ordering wigs off the internet and wearing them. Which is amusing because she hasn't started treatment yet and STILL HAS ALL OF HER OWN HAIR.

My landlord had some excellent online adventures too. Firstly she had MASSIVE dramas with her friends on Facebook, most of whom have now unfriended her (and no I am not FB friends with this person, she TOLD ME ABOUT THEM). In the bits I heard while mentally humming "la Cucaracha" to try and drown out her droning, I heard that it "wasn't even her fault", something to do with someone else's husband sending her illicit text messages and finally resulted in her telling me she was being used as an "escape goat", so that was a gigantic win. She had also found her husband (separated) on the dating site "OKCupid". She was outraged. What I wanted to know was how she had found him... perhaps by being on the site herself? And then I really wanted to know what his profile would say. Do you like Peen-a Coladas? Gettin' fucked in a drain?

Another day, we were discussing being artistic because she had painted this amazing picture that looked like vomited blocks of lego drawn by a colour-blind child depth perception issues. The conversation about artistic-ness led to her telling me that her ex went to school with Tim Minchin and basically taught him how to play the piano. We were talking about performing (well, she was talking over me about performing even though she has never set foot on a stage) and she also told me that she had always planned on going to WAAPA but had never gotten around to auditioning. Then she said she was once asked to audition for Home & Away. By who, exactly? I mentally stifled a laugh and wondered what role she would be asked to play? Moira's long-lost and far uglier cousin? Or perhaps a love-interest for Alf? The real-life embodiment of Milko?

Anyway that's all I can remember from the last few weeks of living there so I guess the blog can stop now. Unless I remember something else. So, yeah, thanks for reading. Seeya

The Shirtless Menace! Plus Measuring The Bush

I've been working outside of Kwinana area for the last week and a half up in Fremantle, so it has been an exciting time almost completely devoid of boganistic behaviours. I say almost because of an incident that happened when I went to get lunch one day in Freo. I was wandering around, getting my bearings in one of the many nice shopping arcades and I noticed a small crowd gathering, pointing at a man who was walking near me. The man was a menacing looking fellow, which I say purely because he wasn't wearing a shirt. It's one of the world's simple truths that the guy going shirtless in a shopping mall is not to be made eye-contact with and is to be given a wide-berth. After he passed me, I crossed the road and asked a guy in the crowd what was going on. He said that the shirtless dude had been kicking things over (tables and signs in the mall) and had "grabbed a female by the hind quarters and called her a slut. Or something". By now I wished I hadn't asked the guy anything because he was just one of those people who shouldn't be engaged with.
"Right," I said, "have the Police been called?"
"I think so, but those cunts are just as bad." So you can see what I mean.
"Good-o" was what I attempted to finish and walk away with but he kept on.
"Yeah, he walked right near me and I was gonna drop the cunt but he never started, so, you know"
I smiled and walked away, hoping to run into the shirtless menace again, who's company I would have much preferred.

Today I had a few quotes to do, which is almost always amusing because of the different homes I go into and the people I meet. And the details they are willing to go into about their lives with almost no prompting at all. Pretty much EVERYONE in Kwinana has "something". A medical issue, a mental issue, an issue with the Government/Real Estate Agent/Ex-partner blah blah blah. I never ask for details on these things, people are just happy to share. Today, a lady whose house I had to go into had issues with a number of these. She started off by telling me that the reason the house is such a mess is because she has been in hos[ital for the last few weeks getting her next series of skin grafts. I didn't ask why she needed them, so she told me anyway. Apparently she "picked up a bug" that causes her to get infections on any scratch on her body. I said "Ew, sounds nasty" to which she replied "Don't even get me started"
Believe me, getting her "started" was the last thing on my mind. Actually, I'm pretty sure she had already started. Whatevs.
Then she told me that the last Handyman to be sent around was the "cheapest cunt they could find", but it didn't surprise her because her landlords are "a big pile of lesbians who have no interest in spending money". She told me that they routinely do "drive-bys to measure the length of the lawn and they get out and measure the bush to see if its been trimmed". Then she laughed and said "And if there's one thing lezzos know about, it's bush".
So yeah, I was pretty happy when I got to leave.

It's CLOMPERIN' TIME. Also, Lesson 2 in Comedy

Special K set a new record for indoor clomping today and clomped the house muttering about having to do everything herself. When she was in the bathroom I heard her saying "How many fucken signs do I have to put up around this place? Not many let me tell you because pretty soon I'm going to be living on my own again" CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP. I snorted. "Let me tell you" is a great thing to say when you are talking to yourself. Then I heard Not Gary come out of his room and ask if she was ok and said if she needed a hand with anything, just to ask. So I quite like him now.

Unlike a lot of share houses, the kitchen here is very clean. I've only cooked a couple of times since moving in but on my personal scale of Share House cleanliness, I give it "0" Cockroaches. In the last place I lived the kitchen was probably a 4 on the Cockroach Scale, even if I actually only ever saw one cockroach in it. The Cockroach scale only goes up to 5. Giving it a "4" means it was so crummy that even when it was clean it still looked like somewhere only the dirtiest cockroaches went to take a shit. The lack of kitchen cleanliness there was often my fault but in my defence I just couldn't be bothered.

ANYWAY Later, I actually went into the kitchen to cook a delicious creamy seafood linguine which I forgot to take a photo of because I was too busy loving eating it. 101 Dalmations obviously wasn't too exciting because Special came into the kitchen and said "You probably like The Stand Up comedies, right?"
"Yeah, depen" CUT OFF
"Because I taped the Montreal Comedy Festival, if you wanted to watch that before I delete it"
Which is thoughtful, isn't it?
"Oh nice one, who" CUT OFF
"Wil Anderson, Dave Hughes, Adam Hills. They're all pretty good. Wil Anderson is hosting it. You know Dave Hughes, Adam Hills, they're both married and have kids. At least Wil Anderson is single, so there's still hope for me".

YOU ARE MARRIED. Did you forget about the marriage counselling that you came home from YESTERDAY? OK, so you'll probably get divorced but whatevs.

She continued "Although good luck having a marriage with someone who isn't in Australia most of the time"
"Yes", I said, thinking about how well her marriage to someone who is in Australia all of the time is going.
"Wil Anderson is in America most of the time now, so it baffles me how he makes any money because they just don't get our humour."
"Yeaah, I'm not sure that's accurate" I said, in what was probably my first full sentence of the "conversation". I was about to mention Jim Jefferies and some other Aussies who do well there but she cut me off.
"Well, they definitely don't get the British. You know that movie Death At A Funeral? That's an English movie, right and when they made that, they did an English and a US version, because they knew that the Americans wouldn't get the jokes."
"Right" I said. I had to hold my tongue because Im pretty sure those movies were made a few years apart. So I went back to stirring my linguine and wishing I was doing The Stand Up Comedy in America. I mean, that is my dream in life but right then I wanted it because I just wanted be as far away from this conversation as possible.

Still having your little life thing?

I went to have a shower and I realised that my only towel was still in the car from when I went to the beach. So I went and got it and that meant going through the living/lounge room where Special K was working on something on her laptop.

As I came back inside with the towel, she said "I'm doing a presentation for my course and I would appreciate not having anybody stomping back and forth all the while".
"Oh, sorry, I didn't reali..." CUT OFF
"I haven't started it yet"
"Oh, ok. When is..." CUT OFF
"Seven o'clock"
An hour away. So, in an hour, you don't want the person who stays in his room most of the time to suddenly start making multiple loud trips through the house. Shouldn't be an issue. There is just something about people who aren't at all self-aware. If Special K had to live with a clone of herself that behaved exactly the way she behaves, she and the clone would hate each other and it would be "the other one's" fault.
"That's ok, I will be gone by then"
"Are you going out?" seems like an arbitrary question considering I just said I would be gone by then. Which "gone" did she think I meant? Dead?
"Yes, I have a gig in Fr" CUT OFF
"Oh are you doing one of your little comedy things?"
I'm pretty sure ALL comedians have come across this particular verbal annoyance. The belittlement of your significant life-goal.

The reality of chasing a career in comedy is that you wont even get noticed for 8 years. It is like an apprenticeship that will take as long as it does to become a specialised surgeon "so you're still doing your your little heart course are you?" or much longer or MAYBE I will never achieve it. I hope I do but the point is that even if I don't, I tried. Because I pity anyone who doesn't at least try. Yes, I am still following my insignificant hobby. Yes, the thing I work hardest at and want to do most in my life is "little". To put this in perspective for people who don't follow a creative dream, it would be the equivalent of me asking a carpenter's apprentice if they are "still working on your little woodwork thing?" or someone who works very hard in a corporate environment whether they are "still doing their little CEO whatsit". "Another kid! Still doing your little parenting thing, then?" "Hey women, still persisting with your little feminism thing?"

OK so with knowledge of Special K's life in general maybe I should just put it down to ignorance

This is what I'm working with here

Don't enjoy your life, you fat looser.

To be fair, this was out the front of Dan Murphy's/

This is in the toilets of a shopping centre called "Cockburn Central". Everyone else pronouces is "Coburn"
NOT ME.

This dolphin statue was modeled on the most popular hip tattoo of Rockingham's female population

Rockingham is gorgeous. When you are looking out to sea.

This is a Little Corella. I live near a golf course and there are heaps of awesome native birds nearby.

Special K is reading this. I think it's safe to judge this book by it's cover.

Smurf. Stop washing yourself SO LOUDLY

OH GOD this has poo in it.

Tonight Special K made Caramel Slice and she offered me some. For those of you who know my stand-up, I have a bit about a woman offering me Caramel Slice and then questioning my manhood when I reject it but this is not it. The background is that I have a dairy allergy, but I LOVE dairy. Especially cheese and especially especially Sweetened Condensed Milk. Eating it is like volunteering to take a sleeping tablet, something to clog your freckle and get kicked in the kidneys by a donkey.

So of course I ate the Caramel Slice. And it was delicious. BUT Special K hasn't cooked anything in the time I've lived here and she kept saying "Help yourself to as much as you like, because I don't even eat sweet things", so I asked her why she made it. She said she "just wanted to try it out". In my brain, an alarm bell went off and I thought "oh god, this has poo in it" but by this stage it was too late, I was already eating it and telling her how delicious it was. Then she said "well they say that food is the way to a man's heart". EEP!

I didn't panic enough to vomit, which is a good thing because then she said "So I hope it works on INSERT BOGAN NAME HERE", her husbogand who she is separated from, "he bloody loves the stuff". Husbogand, let's call him Warren, lives in Mandurah, which is further South and I'm sure even more deeply Boganated than Rockingham. Although I lack proof, I genuinely hope she is more complex than she seems. Like, imagine if she genuinely thinks that Caramel Slice is what's going to win back her estranged husband. That is both sad and extra sad but not, imo, entirely out of the question.

LATER I was doing my invoices in the lounge room while Special K was watching Revenge. The cat, Smurf, got up onto the couch and wanted to sit on her lap. 
"God, you're so sooky" is what she said to it. The cat didn't seem to understand but as it was removed from her lap it stood on a little coffee table and began washing itself.
"Can you not do that in here? You wash yourself TOO LOUDLY"
Judging by the look on it's face, the cat STILL cant understand English. I'm not even sure it's trying to learn. So she got up, picked up the cat and put it in the kitchen. Which is great because of all the places I want a cat de-lousing itself, near my food is probably the first one that springs to mind. The cat must just be baffled most of the time, like anyone who has English as a second language coming to somewhere like this where BogAus (Bogan Australian) English includes phrases such as "yeah nah yeah cunt, ay", "got any durries?" and "Jaidyn! Stop fingerblastin' your sister and tell the hairdresser how long you want your rat's tail". I've lived in Australia my whole life and still struggle some days.

Clomping Day 2: The Clompening

Today was Clomping Day. There was a new world record set. And the reason was totes valid.
Special K could not locate one particular pillow case that desperately NEEDED. TO BE FOUND. Because imagine making a bed where everything matched and not being able to complete the look because you were short one pillowcase. The horror. Actually, as a guy, I cant imagine making the bed where any two things actually match. But this isn't about me.
So what this mystery called for was a good clomping. Followed by a complete emptying of the linen cupboard, which is directly outside my bedroom door. Everything was emptied onto the floor and sorted through loudly. "Where the fuck is this cunting pillowcase? How the fuck do you lose a pillowcase anyway?".
Unfortunately, after each item was loudly sorted and most of it sworn at, the runaway pillowcase still was not located. So the clomping continued. Clomping into the laundry where cupboards were opened and loudly closed. Clomping into the back yard to loudly look if the escaped pillowcase was in fact on the washing line. It loudly wasn't.
Then she knocked on Not Gary & C Girl's door. "Have you guys got an extra pillowcase? What pillowcases have you got on your bed right now?"
"We're using our own" was C Girl's blunt reply.
"Oh. Well I guess they're not in your room then" was what she said but through my bedroom door I am pretty sure I could hear her eyes scouring their room through the open door.
Then she importantly clomped off somewhere else and clomped back again. And knocked on my door. I was not yet out of bed, was wearing only a t-shirt and jocks and was watching The Boy Who Could Fly. So, obviously, I had a boner. OK, NO I DIDN'T. But I still didn't want her in my room when I was that disheveled. So I closed my laptop with the speedy guilt of a 14 year old who's mum is about to walk in on him watching porn and pulled the doona up over me.
"Hello?" I called
She opened the door and walked in. "Hey. What pillow cases have you got on your pillows?"
"uh..these ones", I said and sat up. They're just a light blue kind of colour.
"Huh. Yeah, they're not it. I'm looking for a kind of purpley one, have you seen it?"
"No"
"Ok, well, no worries" she said and clomped out of my room.
The kind-of purpley pillowcase, in my opinion, doesn't want to be found.