Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Your ideas intrigue me and I wish to sign up for your newsletter

The company I work for has long recruited its staff privately. I believe the policy originated back when it was discovered recruitment agencies regularly sold their unborn babies to Hitler so that he could send them into war zones submerged in tanks of Piranhas infected with Typhoid, but I'm not really sure; it was all before my time. We often get calls from agencies demanding to know why it is we operate this way, and they are surprisingly unperturbed when we explain our preference for wishing remain the lone proprietors of our everlasting souls.

The Other Dave took a call this morning.

The Other Dave: I'm very sorry, but we recruit privately.

Underling: Absolutely, but have you ever considered the benefits of specialised help in this area?

Dave: Again, sorry, but our company doesn't require specialized recruiting.

Underling: Fantastic! Because I actually specialise in recruiting for companies that don't require specialised recruiting companies.

Dave: ... ?

Underling: ..I see that my razzle dazzle has left you speechless. Allow me to explain further.

Dave: *click*



I'm currently standing in Singapore Changi Airport on free internet next to a gentleman who is very provocatively clearing his nose every 30 seconds or so. Whoever said travelling isn't glamorous has clearly never rolled like me.

If I don't get the chance to update, or to read your lovely blogs over the next 2 weeks please forgive me. I can only assure you that upon my return I will be refreshed and full of great new ideas and perspectives, and more than likely with a plethora of new Vietnamese curse words. And scurvy.

A big happy birthday to Rosie too! Your hovercraft etc. is in the mail -- I like totally promise and shit.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Water on the Brain

The water cooler at most workplaces is seen as a manifestation of team camaraderie; its purpose not only to quench the thirst of the dutiful employee but also to act as a sounding board for weekend exploits, confidential office whisperings and as a mediator of giggled debates regarding the probability of the new girl seeing any action from the more debonair of the IT team (always spectacularly overestimated). It is a focal point and a place of solace -- the beating heart of office societal interaction.

At least thats what shows like Boston Legal have tricked me into believing.

The water cooler at our work is sadly nothing like this. Limp, covered in lime residue, it languishes in a long forsaken corner of the office that I believe was once home to band of trolls. Indeed, their fossilised droppings can be found littering the surrounding area, forcing the more intrepid of water gathering souls to play poop hopscotch in a vain attempt not to make contact with the foul stuff. If by some miracle you make it through the athletic preamble to the actual cooler, you must remain steadfastly on you guard throughout the 15 minutes it takes for the water to drip from the bone coloured stalactite into your drinking vessel, as bandits lie in fiendish ambushing positions waiting to profit from your patience. Why these individuals are not outside pretending to be 50p short of a bus fair like any respectable bandit is beyond my reckoning.

All in all, the entire experience is extremely harrowing. After such an ordeal, you couldn't be blamed for wanting some kind of reassurance that the water you were getting was of a superior quality. This particular unit, coming directly from the mains and flowing through a noticeably flimsy filtration system (the stalactite) does have the advantage of coming with a handy ready-made explanation as to the numerous ways why the water it produces is better than the bottled variety.

While this information is indeed welcomed to someone of my go-go-go water needs, it is a statement that could also be attributed to a tap. The nature of its assertion also left me a bit worried, for it seems that up until now I was also labouring under the falsehood that bottled water was instant. Oh no, wait, there's the whole lid thing. "The scourge of the lid inconvenience". How could I forget.

Again, while I'm fully aware that Joe from accounting has long dreamed to be in charge of water bottle maintenance and warehousing, the potential lumber inconvenience from such a position would be nothing when compared to the frequent bowel scouring caused by wayward e coli stowaways. And trust me, the less time Joe spends in the bathroom, the better.

With all of these obstacles affronting the team, it is little wonder we all opt for the coffee purchased from the cafe downstairs instead. Actually come to think, the barrister lady does carry with her a rather troll like countenance. No no.. no I'm sure it's just a co-incidence that the cash register is situated under a rickety old bridge, oft used for the crossings of billy goats.

Sure of it.

Deer Diary

London was beautiful yesterday. Cath and I went for an amble through the sun glazed Victoria park, which ended with us feeding deer at an enclosure found at the eastern end. Nearby we overheard a boy querying his mum: "All deer can fly, right Mummy? Not just the ones in the rain?"

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Sitting on the Fence

Last weeks news:
Last Monday a Palestinian suicide bomber detonated his bomb within a crowded shopping mall in Israel in the first attack of its kind for a year. A second attacker, wounded in the initial blast, was shot on the scene by a police officer.

"I saw he was alive, his hand was twitching, " The officer said. "He raised it again to try and activate the bomb, so I shot four bullets into his head and neutralized him."

and neutralized him.

To me, this the biggest case of 'extraneous information' since Niall Bunyan told me about how his unprecedented case of ring sting gave him a most unpleasant sensation of stinging ring. How's the terminology too. Neutralized. I was confused for a minute there, because I thought he was shooting four sprays of deodorant into an exceptionally smelly armpit problem.

Furthermore, and I can only speak for myself here, but when I'm in the market for neutralizing people, I always shoot them an even four times in the melon. You just never know when a suicide bomb blasted, three shot head wound mo fo is going to re-incarnate and start eating peoples brains. Don't laugh funny guy I've seen it happen.

Friday, February 8, 2008

The Stumblor Guide to: Communication (updated)

The Belated Birthday Text

I'm completely hopeless. For 10 years I have followed a rigorous process of carrying a diary with everyone's birthdays neatly highlighted in yellow for visibility, but do you think it helps? Forget everytime. The only thing it really achieves is not leaving enough room in my diary to jot down the days I'm supposed to be doing things, like winning the Nobel Prize, karate fighting the ghost of Bruce Lee or taking my delusion inhibitor medication. It's so annoying it makes me want to eat the Eiffel tower.

Happy belated birthday! This message, contrary to appearance is not in fact late, but is instead from the FUUUTURE (belated due to technology not being 10o% accurate). I am pleased to say that you are happy, healthy, and more radiant than ever. Also, Israel and Palestine have settled their differences, petrol cars have become passé and John Farnham is actually not doing any more shows. Ever.

The 'Missed Connections' Gumtree Message

I love these things. I could read them for hours. Does anyone truly meet people this way? And by 'people' I'm not referring to doll collecting weirdos called Festus Jude Lewdbody, although I would totally meet someone who was called that. I expect we would bond over the middle ground of series one Star Wars figurines and their role in modern day nerd culture. Did I mention we wouldn't have any friends? Totally no friends.

Looking For: Pregnant Lady who Stole My Heart
You were the beautiful pregnant lady who got onto the central line tube at Liverpool street. I was the middle aged gentleman in blue slacks who refused to get up for you; despite the verbal lambasting I received from the other standing passengers. Was it just me, or did we share a moment?

The Party Invite

I'm heading back to Australia in a few weeks and am completely giddy with the excitement of it all. One of the first things I'm going to do is see my toddler nephews and bring them up to speed on London drug culture. Although this is a weighty responsibility in itself, I also intend to get plastered with my mates.


As you may already know, I'll be back in Australia in a few weeks time. Although an empty bait packet to the tides of responsibility, I have been allowed some small windows to do with as I please -- and what I please is to see all you guys in a dingy bar type setting having one too many drinks with the potential for boozed up emotional outbursts. Doesn't that sound ace? I'm veritably psyched!

Gaslight Inn
278 Crown St
, Darlinghurst
xpm xxxx, xxth Feb

The Gassy is like our old hangout. It's a bit like a big kids clubhouse but with less porno. We laughed so hard at a joke once that the owner heard us from two floors down. We've tried to explain the joke a few times since, but it always falls flat; apparently you have to be manically depressed to appreciate the subtle nuances. Sounds unlikely though, as I don't even know what a nuance is.

I would ask you to bring some Dippity Bix, but the Gaslight culinary specialty is Cheezels in Tabasco; as pioneered by Will during his 'cheese snacks from south of the border' phase. Personally, I try to avoid anything that is south of anything; it almost always leads to Tasmania.

Please come.

(I have a bet going that you will so don't let me down)

The Phony Rockstar Reply

Step 1.
Find a kickass Led Zeppelin poster at the Camden markets you just know a certain friend back in Australia will burst over.

Step 2.
Remember that she told you once in drunken confidence that as a kid she sent the band a fan mail letter full of her hopes and dreams, to which she got no reply.

Step 3.
Send the poster to Australia, along with the following letter:

Happy Communicatin'


The bastard post office returned the Led Zeppelin poster! I assume because all the gaffer tape made it look like a large pipe bomb. Pussies. But what am I going to do now? Wait until I get to Australia and then go over to my friends house saying "Oh hi! Hey, look what I found on your front step! Heh Heh." And then I have to be there when they open it and... ahh its ruined.

Friday, February 1, 2008

Train of Thought

After the copyright for my addictive apple cider (tentatively titled 'Tobbapple' due to its dangerously high tobacco content) was unfairly revoked by the patent office, I've been looking for something new to which I could focus my inventive aspirations. Not that my inventions are regularly anything more than meals utilising a single, questionable ingredient, but even a vegemite curry manages to give you the feeling that you are boldly cooking where very few idiots have dared to cook before, and that for me makes the debilitating diarrheoa almost worthwhile.

Last night though, I had a flash of inspiration that could very well be the best idea in the history of amazingly incredible ideas.

Consider these facts:

a) Germany has just introduced kite power to their sea going transport ships in an effort to offset both rising oil costs and their overall carbon emissions. Wind powered boats -- how progressive!

b) The earth has four steady jet streams located in the northern and southern hemispheres that are caused by the difference in thermal temperatures between adjacent air masses.

My proposal is this: Create two earth spanning tracks that follow the meandering line of these winds, dragging energy generating units along great distances by using the constant thermal power created by these jet streams, thereby creating a completely renewable energy source via the ground friction.

You heard me. Kite trains.

I've done all the complicated mathematics and physical modeling right here on my abacus and it all checks out, so I'm now focused more on the aesthetic possibilities.

I've prepared an artist's interpretation of what my kite trains might look like:

Pretty huh? And you wouldn't have to restrict yourself to those designs. I imagine that when crossing the Caribbean you'd want something more like this:

There are some drawbacks of course. Certain countries would be forced to bear most of the infrastructure due to the rambling path taken by the thermal winds. I suspect there would be some measure of public outcry initially, with people complaining that the kite trains created an unnecessary eyesore across the formally beautiful landscape.

Not to worry -- I'm confident that most people's concerns would disappear once they copped an eyeful of these bad boys sailing past:

Feel free to steal this idea; I recognise that trans-Atlantic, wind-powered Sesame Street characters solving the current energy crisis is an idea that is bigger than just me. It might be bigger than a lot of things. I'd say it was slightly smaller than a drug-era Elvis wandering drunk around the city of Lilliput, but hey, I'm just guessing.

Me, I'm just a small guy with big ideas, who is merely hanging around for the potential notoriety and the promise of hooking up with sweet babes.

"Hey, aren't you the guy who solved the world's energy crisis with those kites?"

"That's me babe." *wink*

"You asshole. One of your giant Kenny Koala's went berserk during a freak gust of wind and gave my dad a corked leg so bad we had to atomic wedgie him for two weeks just to take his mind off it."

"Sounds horrible. Busy Friday?"