October 20, 2009

Sweet shop blues

Since living in Sydney I have managed to achieve one of my childhood dreams of working in a sweet shop. Its magnificent. Now all I need to do is work as a lollipop lady and I will be a success in child Amy’s eyes.

It may sound glamorous and fun but I assure you it is not all it seems. When you hear the words “sweet shop” immediately images of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and the awesome Umpalumpas spring to mind. I assure you that there are no tiny orange helpers backstage at my sweet shop. The store room is not in fact a mystical garden filled with lollipop trees and chocolate milkshake rivers it’s a tiny little room that smells like pickled onion monster much. And, unfortunately my boss is not a purple suited, top hat wearing funny man. He is Australian and his name is Peter.

I think that basically I am doing the same job as a Christmas elf. I pack sweets, fill jars and have to deal with children all frickin day long. Now, I appreciate a cute kid and sometimes you have seriously cute kids who say please and thankyou and smile at you but it seems to me that the majority of children are little fuckers! I have become completely tyrannical about children having good manners. If a child doesn’t say please I have to stop my self from snapping “what’s the magic word?’. What has this job done to me? It has turned me into a miserable school teacher.

In this job I should be bringing children and adults alike happiness like no other but instead I stare kids down if they ask for more than one free sample. I am like a sweet shop Nazi. Oh dear me. As I write this I realise what I have become. I need to get out before I start hurting the children!

October 14, 2009

The Evil Ticket Machine of Sydney!

I have made an observation recently about the ticket machines in Sydney’s train system. They are evil. All seems ok initially but as soon as you have reached your final destination you a cruelly informed that your ticket has been taken hostage. Big green mean letters inform you “TICKET CAPTURED”.

Now this seems a little bit harsh – why capture my ticket? What did the ticket do to you? Surely you can just be informed politely that your ticket has gone to a better place – ticket heaven but oh no…its ‘captured’. The poor bloody ticket – just think how many times in its ticket life it gets captured. It must just get released from captivity and then immediately be taken prisoner again. The tickets must be nervous wrecks bless em... sounds like they need a holiday.

I cant help but wonder what kind of evil monster would want to capture train tickets – surely there are bigger capturing plots that would prove more fruitful. I mean I don’t imagine that the tickets all have rich ticket parents who will be able to fork up for the ransom. Maybe there are some tickets who come from rich families where they can afford gold plated writing but I imagine that the majority of tickets are just as humble as the common man. Alas though the evil ticket machine that captures them doesn’t appear to discriminate.

I think I have problems – at least I don’t live every day in fear of inevitably being captured. I’m going to ensure that in this life I am good so that I am not reincarnated as a train ticket and I suggest that you do the same.

October 13, 2009

Evil Dog


This is how sniffer dogs may dress in the future. Just an idea. I just hope i live to see it.


Sniff Sniff

I’m currently residing in the infamous Kings Cross in Sydney, Australia. This area is a notorious red light district where drug dealers roam the street snarling at passers by and where you can expect to see literally anything. Its awesome.

Needless to say that due to the nature of the area and the fact that drug use appears to be rife – there are a shit load of police about at all times. Now, coming from the UK we sure ain’t used to seeing policemen / women packing heat! It’s pretty shocking. The first time I saw an Aussie policeperson I didn’t notice the weapon poking off their belt due to the fact that I was blinded by their short trousers, long socks and big boots! It reminded me of Santa! They are like mean blue santas roaming Australia carrying weapons and stopping people having fun albeit in the name of the law and our safety.

Well – a couple of friends of mine had a run in with the feds in Kings Cross station. When wandering down innocently to purchase some ultra cheap sushi – we spotted the police and their aquaintance – a frickin sniffer dog. Now, no matter whether or not you have anything on you - the minute that I see a policeman I instantly panic. Even more so if they have a dog with them.
One thing that struck me was how bloody cute the dog was. It was like an Andrex puppy. Personally I think that this is a diversionary tactic. You stop to look at the cute little puppy wuppy who’s giving you looks as if he will go mad if you don’t cuddle him and then he goes and betrays you in the blink of an eye. That instant when the dog sits down to indicate that you are indeed a law breaker he is basically saying that you had better not touch him - fucking snooty dog. Didn’t want to stroke you anyway. They lure you in with the puppy dog eyes and then break your heart – fuckers.

Now, this got me thinking. Why do the dogs simply sit down when they detect something? Surely this is not the most efficient use of their time. If they were to do something different to indicate which drug they have identified obviously this would save time and money. I’m going suggest it the next time I see a policeperson. If they can be trained to detect drugs – surely they can be taught further actions.

This inevitably got me thinking about what kind of signals they could give. The way I see it, sitting down is the perfect indicator that the suspect is carrying weed because when you smoke weed you get lazy. True. If they detected smack – maybe they could play dead. Inject a little humour into the situation. Maybe detecting ecstacy would cause them to rub against things excessively and smile (if dogs can smile? Woah, creepy.). Maybe with acid the dogs could show off their athletic prowess by walking around on their front paws.

I know this may seem far fetched but with the advancement of technology at the moment, the way I see it – there are no limits. These puppies should not set themselves any limits. I reckon that in the future – policedogs will wear uniforms, wear lazer glasses and will be able to speak English. Anyway enough about this. As you can no doubt tell – I was the fortunate one who the sniffer dog didn’t catch.

Wassup!

So this is it. My blog. At long last i have finally got up off the sofa and created something which will allow me to share with you the daily thoughts that i have. I think that i am funny. You may not but check it out anyway. It may just make you chuckle...