August 2006 Archives

Last Saturday I was *told* to attend the 21st birthday party of a girl that I used to know when I was a child. Its a long story, but I havent seen her in 8 years, hardly knew her, but I decided to go anyway.

See that line above there? The one that said "I decided to go anyway"?? That a big mistake.

There were bogans everywhere. I ended up in a conversation with someone we used to know called 'Goofy' who now sported a massive Irish/Islamic beard and through the course of conversation he asked me to define the word 'BOGAN'.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not always as rude as a streaking grandmother, and so I decided to choose my words carefully and NOT give an example of 'boganism' from the numerous examples around me...

My thought pattern went a little like this...

A BOGAN IS SOMEONE THAT...
...allows their child to wear lastweeks dirty tracksuit to a 21st party (CANT USE THAT)

...drinks beer in the street (CANT USE THAT)

...fails to wash before coming to said birthday party (CANT USE THAT)

...just fails to wash (CANT USE THAT)

...is stupid enough to let their 6 year old child to lock them out of the car (CANT USE THAT)

...gets same 6 year old child to hold their whiskey & coke while they pull their own pants up (CANT USE THAT)

...swears at their 6 year old child, calling them a f*cking a**hole when the kid locks them out of the car AGAIN (CANT USE THAT)

...someone who reduces child to tears by *calling the police* and telling their child that they are going to jail (CANT USE THAT)

...someone who plays sports holding a beer and a ciggarette (CANT USE THAT)

...someone who sceams in rather colourful terms at passing traffic (CANT USE THAT)

...someone who brags about bashing kids, binding them to trees and setting off explosives at their feet, and laughing as their glasses are blown off their face (CANT USE THAT)

...being female and loosing a tooth in a barfight (CANT USE THAT)

...using the phrase "I got good work now" followed by the term "dishpig" (CANT USE THAT)

As you can see... I had a hard time defining 'Bogan'. I just sat there looking around me, stunned, and horrified. I was afraid. Very afraid. He didnt get his definition.

He did on the other hand explain that his beard was 'beacause he got involved with Islam', and also was kind enough to explain that I was considered an Infidel. This was a big moment for me... I've been called lots of things in my life, but this was the first time I was ever called an infidel. Good times.

Oh, and those drug dealers across the street... the lights were not on in their ceiling cavity for the first time in 3 days. I'll keep the information coming!!

Right now, after all this bogan talk I think I need a shower... it makes me feel so... so dirty!

Yesterday, I was making a cup of tea and staring out the window watching the neighbors having a domestic arguement out in the street. The wife had just arrived home, and driven her car up the driveway, and was just sitting there beeping the horn, wanting the husband to open the automatic garage.

He came outside in his tracksuit and flanny shirt, and started yelling and gave her the finger. She beeped, reved the car loudly, and then reversed out onto the street, and took off. Angry.

I turned to mum. "Congratulations, your not the biggest Bogan in the street"

Mum "What are you talking about?"

Me "Those new neighbors are bigger bogans than you..."

Mum "Oh, them. They are into drugs".

Its funny how a flannel checked shirt and tracksuit pants automatically qualifies you as a habitual drug user and dealer.

BUT THEN I STARTED OBSERVING.
They seem to get a LOT of different visitors, just dropping in for a few minutes, and then leaving. Most of them male and sketchy looking. And not only that, late last night I was outside at 2am, and noticed that little beams of light shine out of their roof through the tiles.

My verdict, either a drug manufacturing plant, or brothel. I'll keep the investigation running, and keep you posted.

A couple of days ago I drove my car into an embankment. I wasn't out of control, going too fast and sliding. Neither was the embankment hidden. I just drove into it.

I had been driving a small Barina in Qld all week, and failed to adjust to my usual bathtub/commodore/giant fridge sized car. I was doing a three point turn, and just drove forward into the embankment outside my house. Nice one Will.

In other news, Im writing in a new Uni magazine... it should be cool, with a circulation of over 10,000 across campus. Keep your eyes open.

In the morning Lou and I went to the Eumundi markets. An absolutely amazing place. Such a mix of styles and cultures. You have the affluent buying for their million dollar homes on the mountain tops, the bogans buying for their farms and backyard pubs/pool halls, and the hippies buying for their trees or wherever it is they live. I have never seen objects over $5000 for sale at market stalls, until today. And I loved it. Go if you ever get the chance.

The flight home was great too... I love planes, and I especially love coming back into Sydney, and being able to point out my tiny little suburb from the plane. It really is so nice to be home.

All in all, it was a nice week, with some very interesting characters. Lou's dad and co made us feel very welcome, and im sure I benifited in some small way from their health food (even if my tastebuds object to carrot juice). Eumundi is a lovely area... I might retire there one day.

And start wearing hippy clothes.

Observation: There is ne'er such a cultural mix of Yuppie, tourist, hippy and bogan as in Eumundi.

The day that shall be known as 'Lou Vs the Coffee machine' day. Lou woke me up, and brought me downstairs to watch her make her OWN coffee using a coffee machine of her fathers. She filled it up, switched it on, and waited... and waited...

nothing.

She decided to froth the milk... nothing. No steam to froth the milk. No noise. Nothing. Everytime she turned a valve on, nothing. So Lou turned away to get something from the fridge AND THEN the Coffee machine goes ballistic... spraying steam all over the window, hissing like a very angry snake and dumping water ALL over the bench...

Eventually Lou hits the kill switch, and all is quiet. She decideds to ignore the need for frothy milk on the cappuccino, and concentrates on pouring the coffee. She pulls the lever, and because she screwed the coffee strainer in crooked, she ended up with as much liquid as ground coffee particles in her coffee. Undrinkable. Unphased, Lou presses on. And the coffee machine begins to protest again, hissing and spitting water... she shuts it off and tries again.

Another attempt at frothing the milk this time ends in failure... the milk 'frother' inadvertently sucks up all the milk. Lou tried telling me that it goes to prove that the milk REALLY WAS frothy before... Eventually she agrees with me that 6cm of milk does not become 2cm of milk without the coffee machine drinking it.

Then the coffee machine goes absolutely mental. EVERY single valve begins leaking and spitting liquid all over the window, all over the machine itself, into the cup, onto the hanging crockery set over half a metre away, and all over the bench. It was the coffee machine equivalent of Niagra falls. Lou panics and grabs a cup to cover one of the leaking valves, and grabs a few tea towels to act as a sandbag flood-wall, to stop the onset of the coffee machine tide from pouring onto the floor.

And all this time I sat on the other side of the room in HYSTERICS.

Coffee machine : 1
Lou : 0

I ended up asking her dad (while he was spending 20 mins washing the thing out) if he had ever seen the coffee machine behave so badly, and suck up all the milk. His answer?

"Not in the 15 years I've owned it... if that answers your question"

Good times.

Oh, I also preached at a youth/kids group this evening. Went really well. It was like the first time you jump back on your old faithful bike after a few years without a place to ride...

Observation: You know your in Bogan territory when you are allowed to take your kids to the pub for a night out. The number of strollers outside the pub was unbelievable.

Today was a not so good day. I ended up getting a bit sick thanks to Lou's evil snot and headache bacterias. So I was pretty unmotivated at the best of times. We decided to "Drive down along the coast because its pretty, and then perhaps stop in at Sunshine Plaza at the end".

NOTE: NO REFERENCE TO SHOPPING IN THAT STATEMENT.

It turned into "Drive directly to Sunshine Plaza and commence operation 'Lou needs to spend ALL her birthday gift vouchers', do not pass go, do not collect $200."

I was stroppy, and with all the maturity of an eight year old politely informed her that I was not in a shopping mood. Later that day we drove the coast road. It was ok, water and trees and stuff.

Observation: It doesn't matter what state you are in, women will gladly shop. Even if it you are in Bogan territory, men, hold onto your wallets.

And so came Wednesday... a day filled with images of Alexander the great, world war 2, girls wrestling aligators in muddy ponds and the history chanel. The air was filled with songs from the 80's, reminding us that this city (wherever it happens to be) is actually built on Rock and Roll, and surprisingly not on rocks (An unsound building practice if you ask me).

Later that night Lou and I went into Noosa, and watched 'You, Me and Dupree' in a cinema. A cinema that eagerly advertised the fact that it had 5 (YES A WHOLE FIVE) different cinemas inside the complex. For QLD'ers having 5 different movies in the one building at the same time is obviously a huge drawcard.

Observation: QLD'ers are easily amazed by technology. Im surprised that they actually get sattelite out here in the wilderness... I spose it's so the bogans can watch greyhound racing.

Today started like most of the others... me sleeping in, and Lou waking me up with a hot cup of tea. Life isnt too bad up here.

Before breakfast Lou and I went into Eumundi, and surprise surprise, no hippies, only bogans. It was before 11am, and obviously the hippies were still asleep in their native tree habitat. The bogans on the otherhand were congregating around the pub, waiting for some mid morning ale.

Somehow we got hold of some hippy pamphlet. It was advertising an event to take place during the spring equinox (alarm bells ringing already!!) called 'The Joining'. This pamphlet seemed to be advertising some 'hippy-hugging' ceremony under the stars in the dark. Nothing screams hippy-orgy-and-sharing-the-love-with-strangers like a good old joining ceremony during the equinox.

At lunch we went with Lou's dad and ate at a place called "The Green Bean cafe". Beware. 'Green' secretly means 'without meat' up here, so beware what you eat... although, given the thousands of hemp related products on display, it could be code for 'Everything contains Marajuana'. I have to say, the food tasted awesome even without meat... The little leprechauns told me so.. And we got free cookies because someone STOLE one of our rolls. It happens around here though. I wonder if there was some 'Eumundi Gold' hemp in that food...

The guy making our 'green bean' rolls had these funny little specs on... the lenses on his glasses were literally smaller than 20c pieces. TINY. I was like 'dude - ever heard of peripheral vision?'. He couldnt hear me cause he was stoned. He wanted to touch my hands.

I should also point out that Lou's dad falls directly into the category of 'grandpa sunbaking on beach in tiny speedos'. HA!

Observation: I think some of these QLD'ers were trying to get me stoned from some Eumundi gold substance, so that I would take part in their free love ceremony. Being empowered in my sexuality and all that...

Not much to report today... Only that me and Lou watched over 3 hours of 'The infinite imagination of H.G. Wells'. At least, thats what I think its called... I obviously dont have an infinite memory. But it is a seriously enjoyable series of short stories. You will enjoy it.

After returning from a walk around neighbourhood, Lou and I saw a large 'Jackal-like' creature run around the side of the house and into the rainforest. It was almost as high as my waist, and moves really fast. It reminded me of the Hyenas from the lion king.

Observation: QLD is inhabited by strange and scary creatures.

Today we went into Noosa and caught a ferry. And in doing this, I came to the conclusion that nothing (and I mean NOTHING) attracts old people like ferry trips and half priced meals. As soon as the ferry pulled into the dock, the elderly brigade emerged from every stall, every restraunt, and every toilet cubicle, and as one they converged in their white visors and sunshoes, and charged down the gangplank and onto the ferry.

Me and Lou also drove into Brisbane, to 'Redcliffe' to visit an old friend at the church where he volunteers. It was a nice little church, and I ended up being asked to preach at the youth this week on the subject of comedy. I think I can handle that.

I was horrified to learn from one young QLD'er that he had in fact visited Sydney *once*. The alarming part was when he told me that him and his dad had been somehow 'parked in', and so his dad just used his 4WD bull bar to push the other car out of the way and drive off. I asked him about the other car. His reply "It was sratched up pretty badly... but you know, 'have bull bar - will use' and all that"

Observation: QLD'ers obviously have no respect for other peoples cars. Its crazy on the roads up here.

Well, as some of you are aware, I have left NSW for a week, and, seeing as though I have scammed some internet access up here, I have decided to report to you all on the intricacies of the QLD bogans... So here goes.

My first EVER commercial flight... and I loved it. The power and the view. Two things I love. I saw a school of fish, AND a submarine. Which was cool. Oh, and we were introduced to the "Eumundi markets", a place apparently full of hippies selling special power rocks, healing magnets, and an excessive number of fairies and unknown (and probably unedible) health food products.

Observation: I am surprised at the number of bogan hippies up here without shoes. It seems QLD'ers suffer from extreme poverty.