box of Jack

So, I’m in the cafeteria today and I’ve been invited to the table full of Chinese co-workers. I can’t help but think to myself in a gruff cowboy voice, “Boy howdy, I sure wish they’d stop speakin’ all that asian-ese so I can understand ‘em.”

Chinese New Year at Crown - 2006

They are, of course, lovely people and went to lengths to break their habit so that I could join in on the conversation. We reached consensus about quite a few things. First, Australia has hot weather. Second, I am paying a lot of rent. And third, it is weird that I cook almost everyday.

Let’s address these points.

Well, Australia does have hot weather but that has everything to do with the global heating. See, Australians expel carbon dioxides at such a rate that by 2023, a politician will have made some sort of policy about it. That is some pretty fast moving policy-making, folks. Also, carbon dioxides anger God and he sends down angry beams of greenhousing.

Yes, I am paying a lot of rent. This is more or less on David’s advice that I get an awesome apartment so I never have to share the place with some metrosexual bogan from Mildura. Good advice.

And yes people, I do cook. But not because I want to. It’s because nobody in this city can cook me a decent meal for less than $50. And even then? It’s just a big slab of meat with a side of lazy handjob. (I don’t know what that means but I think it sounds kinda clever.) I managed to put myself in a neighborhood with pretty darn good ingredients and some of the most subpar restaurants. The only reason I cook is because I can’t pay someone to cook better.

P.S. I miss fruit smoothies. Americans don’t seem to believe in fruit juice unless it comes from a) chemical powder or b) oranges from Florida.