OK, I promise, last of these historic posts! The title was inspired by Andrew Braybook’s game diary in ZZAP!64 magazine, which you should immediately read. I wrote this 13 years ago, when I was young and stoopid…
I went to a football game the other day with a few friends. One of them commented that the oval looked smaller than he had expected. I said, “What do you mean? It’s 100 metres wide and 200 metres long! Of course”, I added, “that’s only a ballpark figure.”
There was this news story on TV a while back about a young man who murdered his parents. When the reporter asked the obviously shocked neighbours about the man, they told him how quiet and harmless he seemed. Then one of them remembered how he had made constant death threats against his parents. Another chipped in with stories of him shooting cats with an air rifle. And then pandemonium broke out, as the neighbours started yelling about how he was a crazy freak, and how they all hated his guts.
Did you know there was an Indian version of The Beatles? They even went through a weird stage, hanging out with the Archbishop of Canterbury and playing acoustic guitars instead of their sitars. Here’s the lyrics to one of their most enduring songs:
Dear Sir and Madam, here’s your vindaloo
It took me days and days to cook it up for you
It’s based on a recipe I got from my mum
And it’s very very hot, so you’ll need to have some
It’s a lovely curry, with some lovely naan
(there’s some popadoms in the frying pan)
Sir, you appear to be turning pale
You’re an unsteady sod; so instead of beer
Isn’t it interesting how words change their meaning with time? I was reading a book from 1895 the other day, and I came across a passage which read: “The chambermaid rushed sobbing from the room, followed by Mr. Dawkins, who was ejaculating wildly.” I was very offended, until I realized that the word “sobbing” has changed meaning drastically in the last hundred years.
I really hate those corny romantic American movies where, at the end of the film, the two lovers embrace in a public place and the crowd of onlookers break into spontaneous applause. I was in a restaurant once and this guy kissed his girlfriend, so I started clapping and whooping. But nobody else joined in. And then the guy said “Hey, what are you doing, buddy?”, so I said “I’m clapping man, can’t you see that?”, and then came on over and punched me in the nose. So that’s why I hate those movies.
I was in the city with a girl, and she said to me, “Do you like the sarong that girl over there is wearing?”. I bellowed out, “What sarong?”, and a passing ethnic stereotype yelled back “Nothing’s a-wrong, mate! What’s da matter with you, eh?”
I have always found it rather odd that businessmen affect to wear their ties on their shoulders when outdoors in the city. I think someone should do a study on it.
I think the next big leap in technology will be smells. It will take just one geek to come up with some big breakthrough, and in no time at all everyone will be talking about the great new “smell chip”. Sony would develop a sleek smell machine, with their own smell format, but the other manufacturers would band together and develop an inferior smell format which would become successful through clever marketing campaigns. Televisions would be made “smell compatible”. If you wanted to smell in private, you could wear little “nose-olfactors”. Musicians would play special smell instruments at gigs, and you’d better watch out for the door-to-door smell salesman. Smell lovers would complain about synthetic smells, and they would harp on and on about the good old days, and how great the natural smells were back then. Computers would come with an optional “smell card”, and software for mixing smells. You could customize your desktop to have your favourite smell, and you’d be able to download new smells. When an error occurs, a special smell would be emitted.
The other day I pointed out a tattoo on a man’s arm to a friend. “That’s a Swastika”, I said. “You mean its not a real tattoo?”, she replied.
I reckon if you’re lucky enough to have a big sticky-out mole on some weird part of your body, you should paint that mole silver and pretend that you’re into body piercing. People would express amazement at how you managed to get that part of your body pierced, and they would admire your impressive looking stud.