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In the age of entitlement there is a land cut off from the rest of the world, in which the entitled, breed and proliferate like as if it was the Galapagos.. except without evolution.
Just over the Bridge, River, past the red brick 3 bedroom, Strayan dream homes there is a suburb.
In the Suburb there are some often thought of as “mythical” creatures. They dress in scant, wet, shorts and bikini tops, or sometimes just boardies and no shirts, or thongs, or high waisted Daisy dukes that cup the cleft of the butt cleve, just to go down to Dan Murphy’s. Their hair is sun bleached and tousled. Their caps on sideways, with a wisp of faux surfer hair fringe to the front.
These are the newest batch of hatching Menaiites. Their predecessors are the God Fearing Christian right that have put one term Tony in office. They regret nothing, but they will say “he’s a shit cunt now”, if prompted about how they are going to have to pay $7 to go to the doctor. They do after all have 3.5 blonde, blue eyed kids to feed. They coulda spent that on making a pot into a fish pond.
They rejoice in convenience, because they don’t like leaving the burb for love nor money. Even going down the point, 10 mins away is an inconvenience. You’d have to go over a bridge.
They love Straya, but they will still go down to KFC on New years day, hatchlings are stoned and have the munchies. They will queue up for 20 mins while the understaffed store of 14 year old cashiers scramble to prepare their 15 piece feed with large chips and 10 liters of Fanta. “This is ridiculous” their older GFC parents will tisk, and yet continue to queue for dirty bird because the kids are home for holidays.
They go to church, but they’re not “churchies”. It’s just what you do. Youth group for the hatchlings. Be a good citizen, and being part of the Christian right will basically get you a job. Right? Old economy Steve still lives here, but that’s OK, our kids are never gonna leave here. It’s God’s country.
Ive recently taken on Pinterest. Im late to the game, but I kinda forgot about all the stuff my mother taught me, like how to sew. I can actually sew, but aint nobody got time for dat, usually.
Some of the shit on there is cool, it’s good for very girly crafty things that can be done when you have nothing more intelligent to do with your spare time, like drinking beer and talking about missing Planes and the imminent invasion of Russia into all the world with your friends.
I was glad to come across a more honest version of D.I.Y jobs taken up by every day folks from the pinterest site. It is, as a friend recently coined the term ” a giggle vortex”
I have a few items I might add to that.
One thing I did nail though was my home made tattoo aftercare. It’s my take on all that is good for your skin:
5cm strip of Bepanthen
5cm strip of Lanolin
6 drops tea tree oil
6 drops rosemary oil
5 drops of rosehip oil
5 drops of Bio oil ( Vitamin E)
A squirt or two of Aloe vera after sun spray
Whisk it all together and keep in an airtight container. It isnt sterile, so keep that shit to yourself, yo.
I can attest to the fact it works a treat.
Generational differences used to be a hot topic, back when I was at University studying art. I remember a book called ‘Generation X; Tales for an accelerated Culture” In 1987, The Author Douglas Coupland (who was born in 1961) wrote an article for Vancouver Magazine in which he lamented the lack of realization for people within his own birth cohort. A year later, he received a $22,500 forward from St. Martin’s Press to complete a handbook on the “generation” that he had outlined in the article.
I’m on the tail end of that Gen. Fast forward 20 years and what are we now?
Most articles describe us as Generation “Meh” Now in our mid thirties, we are happy with our lot! We are content. We are the also rans. We’ve done our thing, we have evolved, we’re up on our hind legs, the problem’s solved, but we are tired, we’ve got nothin’ to believe in… sung the much adored Nick Cave in his song “Go tell the Women”
We were, in my own experience, a generation that grew up in a time when our toys were choking hazards, things got tested on us. Medical things like new Asthma treatments. Our University and school subjects often got changed half way through doing them and we just had to cop it. We got thrown in the deep end. We didn’t often win anything. We still knew about kids who “repeated” school levels. Sometimes things never got finished. Sometimes we were left on the bench. We left home at 18. We got standard jobs, and that was O.K. Some of us started the “Cashed up Bogan” movement. Like a middle class Tradie yuppie. We bought McMansions, or, we didnt buy any property at all, content to rent for the rest of our time until we inherit a fortune from our grandparents, or our own first wave Baby Boomer parents. ( Since they wouldnt retire or make room for those looking for a job, we might be waiting a while)
I’m not one to repost those often ill informed pictures with words on them that say “when I grew up we played in the street until the sun went down and we never got molested”… We did, but there was no social media back then, just the town grape vine. Kids still got into the same shit as they do now, you were just less likely to hear about it if their family didn’t want you to know. The same shit, they do now but we moved on… dealt with it however we needed to.
I’m the last of my kind.
Just about all my friends of my own generation have children now. At least one of them was conceived around the time of my 18th birthday party and are now young adults. If I had had kids from my first marriage they’d be about 12 or 13. What generation? Generation Z? I don’t even know how we can class pre-teen kids, or if we should push them into that mold just yet.
My Gen doesnt often worry about the whole Gen thing much.. like I said we are happy to coast along. But what about our younger Brothers and Sisters, who were the baby of the family?
When there is a Moral Panic. Then, suddenly people of our own Parent’s Gen, start to raise some nostalgia as a protective shield, like those pictures with words on them saying we’re worried that kids (meaning Gen Y) who got given medals just for showing up, are going to take over and rule the world… and then we’re all fucked. They’re the brothers and sisters who stayed living with mum and dad after we left.
The most recent example of this moral panic is the crack down on Drunken violence and the “Coward punch” as a King hit, has now been renamed by the mob, in an attempt to shame the action by wording it differently. (Incidentally, I find it funny that so many people spend so much time denying that grammar and spelling have any use, until the exception of when they have a use such as this. To make something Taboo.)
Now after two Men were killed by other men, in violent, probably more likely drug fueled fits of being a complete fuckwit, in the same area of Sydney there is demand for Pollies to make instant band aid policies. If some of you can’t play nice, none of you will play at all. Dudes are getting drank up in here and smashing heads with king hits and pretending to be WWF. Won’t anyone ban WWF? That shit is soo dang fake, people be copying that crap.
People who are pointing fingers have abandoned their own pigeon hole “Generation” but are happy to blame Gen Y, because Gen Y is Generation “Me”
But who the fuck are their parents? Actually they are the ones pointing the finger and calling Gen Y selfish and “entitled”. These so-called millennials ( Gen Y ) are mostly the children of baby boomers, and at more than 82 million strong, they now outnumber the members of the boomer generation. These guys were born in the 80s and 90s, theyre our younger sisters and brothers. These guys stayed at home into their 20s. They had shit handed to them on a plate, according to their parental generation, actually unwilling as they were to let them move out and live their own lives.. (my last baby can’t leave!). It’s Baby Boomers who call their own kids, Selfish, narcissistic and entitled. But it’s the Baby Boomers who made them that way.
To me it’s almost like Frankenstein’s Monster. These attitudes were created by the very people who abhor it the most. Those kids with those attitudes don’t care what you think. They’re done with your shit. They do what they want, because you have always let them. They don’t feel much.
But let’s look at young men’s attitude toward masculinity first. You live at home with your momma? Oh yes son, I’m talking to you. What does this popular culture song by TLC from the 90s tell us?
Can’t get with a dead beat. By the time guys of my Gen got to 1999, they still shrugged their shoulders about this sort of social comment because it wasn’t about them. Gen Y take it to heart. What are they supposed to be like? Who are their role models? Who are they in society? When left to sit long enough, all things return to their lowest state. In this case it might be Apes, and frankly it’s that or Hipster. They’ve been called entitled, but have found that once they’ve flown the coop, they aren’t really. They can’t get a job, even at the end of studying at Uni. ( again, retire already Baby boomer gen!) They will probably never be able to afford a house in a major capital city. Frustration and way, way too many of them in one place has boiled over. Social media has fed the narcissism, sure… but the stigmatism shouldn’t stop at Gen Y. We need to look at young men and how they are viewed in society and in the community. We need to look at why young men drink, take drugs and get into shit on a Saturday night in places like Kings Cross. Is it really a lack of direction, or sense of an achievable future? Is it just that like Gen Y, My Gen, that They’ve got nothing to believe in, but they want something to believe in.. or is it that they don’t know how to Man?
Everyone who has grown up with cricket in their lives is likely ( especially since the 80s) to have some kind of tradition about watching it at home on the telly during the holidays.
With permission, I give you Darren McLander’s Cricket Sandwich recipe. It’s an unique variation of the ol’ Ham salad sanga, which was always popular with my own family.
Fresh White sliced bread. Make sure it’s the softest you can find.
Leg ham off the bone. About 2-3 slices per sanga. ( Being Xmas you may just have an abundance of this)
Fresh Truss tomatoes. Jarlsberg Cheese. Roquette. Spanish onion.
Three threes Sweet Mustard Pickles
Pasta salad from the supermarket deli. ( You may also use Coleslaw, Potato salad or just mayo)
Tinned Beetroot slices ( Daz tells me he traditionally uses Golden Circle, but of late their slices have been becoming smaller and smaller)
The construction is very considered: Remove the slices that you’ll use on the bottom first. Leaving the top slice in the bag helps it to retain it’s softness and so it doesn’t dry out.
Spread a generous amount of pickles onto the slice. Next arrange your ham slices on top of that.
Have a swig of your beer. Or if you’re feeling very nostalgic. Your Creme soda with ice.
Next layer your tomato slices and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. He likes Tomato more than your average person, so about 4 or 5 slices of a largish tomato. It’s important that they are hydroponic or truss tomatoes that are good and red. ” No one like crunchy green tomatoes that taste like water” Nicely ripened home grown ones would be the best for this if you have them.
The placement of the tomato within the folds of the ham and Cheese minimises the soggy bread syndrome which is often the bane of a good Salad sanga. So clearly next placed is the cheese. About 2 slices on each sandwich
In this order then comes Onion cut into half moon rings, Beetroot, Pasta salad and the Roquette. You can heap the construction as you like it, but remember you’ll need to squash it down a little.
Place on the top of your creation and press down. Daz likes it “uncut” I prefer it cut in halves.
Bon apetit. You wont be disapointed.
The first rule of retail, is you do not talk about retail, especially online.
Everyone who works in retail usually speaks of nothing else at this time of year.
It isn’t your usual customers that cause Xmas time grief, some of whom predictably piss you off on a weekly or monthly basis, it’s your “blow ins” that often leave a residual bitter taste on the palate.
Expecting more than you can provide, or often simply the extra presence of blow ins can cause all kinds of calamity such as: Creating a bottleneck at the registers, which in turn creates excess Tsk! or the very fact that you are under pressure to perform more quickly for more people, causes your regular customers to get the shits. It’s a vicious cycle, and those who act surprised have short memories. I am speaking from 20 or more years experience in the game, and while this may resemble a whinge, I pride myself on my customer service and that of my team. I believe you “create your own customer” and good service isn’t really that hard if you have the training and skills. But I also believe in working smarter, not harder, so when I have to work harder I’m not a happy Cowgirl.
So what’s this got to do with you? Simple. Don’t be an arsehole whilst you are Christmas shopping. Do not assume people “get paid” to fix up your shit. Fucking with the merchandise and leaving it strewn from ear to toe across a shop just makes it difficult for everyone. Leaving your food rubbish around the shop or in the carpark instead of in the giant, very obvious bin.. you’re just a lazy prick and it just makes you look like you have mucho disrespecto for the people who work there. That’s how you get spit in your burger. I don’t presume anyone I know personally would be child like enough to behave like this, but it helps to spread the word.
It’s Faux Pas for me to discuss this, and is generally frowned upon, but I’ll let you in on a little secret….
If you want good service, be a good customer. Simples!
On the plus side.. and Yes, people can be offended by whatever they damn well like, and people can chose to be not offended by anything so let’s quit the “what not to say to……” bullshit articles. .. it makes for some damn funny stories at Christmas parties. You could be one of my hilarious joke stories. At least 500 people will make you famous.
I bought a ham. A free range ham. That means my piggy pig pig’s leg was free to roam in pasture, and to act like a pig and to interact with other pigs of all ages.
I really wish the opposite was true in terms of labelling. Free range costs a lot more, usually because, funnily enough it is more labour intensive. We humans are pretty much arseholes when it comes to making livestock production cheaper. Jamming sows in stalls not wider than their bodies and making them give birth in there. Apparently banned in most other countries except of course, old backward backwater Australia. ( I mean how much further backward can we go Tony Abbott?)Free range pork is born free range and gets to live free range, until it is (hopefully) humanely put down for the purposes of my Xmas season tradition of eating a ham leg for the next 3 months. If you know me, you know I love my pork products. I do try to actively source Free range pork.
I used to be a Vegetarian , for 10 years infact, and I think after I returned to the land of the omnivores, Ham was one of the last meats that I came back to because of the intelligence of the animal. Pigs are smart. So are Squid for that matter.
If you’re having ham this year at Xmas, look for Free Range Pork. But don’t be fooled by the trickster label “Bred free range” because that means the Sow was allowed out, but the piglets were separated from her at 4 weeks and taken away to shelters full of other piglets into a piglet, stolen children house.
There is sadly no legal definition in Australia and most supermarket hams are the trickster version.
I reckon Free range is far superior anyway. Ask your local butcher.
I don’t disagree it’s originally a Gaelic or even Wiccan ritual, but personally feel the commercialisation of this celebration has infact ruined what should be a beautiful thing to those who wish observe it’s true meaning. True meaning being paying respect to the memory of our late friends or relos.
It’s hard not to want to launch criticism at retailers looking to cash in on a celebrated day in the downtime to Christmas. Each to their own, but it wasn’t something that was widely commercially celebrated in Australia for at least the past 30 years, to my knowledge. That could be because I was brought up in a country town though, I suppose, and like most European celebrations we observe eg: easter bunny being about spring and new life, the seasons they are celebrating are all in the reverse.
I recently read, that it was all about stocking up for the lean times of winter, time to slaughter the cattle and bring in the Pumpkins. October in Australia is just about things catching fire, of late.
Critics will say that we Aussies observe other days like St. Patrick’s day, and even Oktoberfest. But these involve lots and lots of Beer. Not lollies and letting your kids knock on strangers’ front doors.
Don’t get me wrong, I love dressing up like a slutty witch as much as the next Post-feminist, post-wiccan ( yes I put it in the census once) I just reckon, like all things, it should be open for debate.
This morning I read This article and it gave me an idea on how to link up my current thoughts on why I’m sometimes pretty bemused at the world.
I like to think I spend a lot of my time trying to teach other people stuff. Be it through work, or sports or more relevantly, my immediate friends. Queue this Mariah Carey song
DO I want to be a hero? Is it really just about making myself feel better here?
Through my work I’m the Boss lady. People need to learn to develop themselves if they want to get anywhere with their career in the company. My efforts to help them do that, are appreciated when they get promoted or some kind of tangible gain can be seen as a result. I then feel happy that Ive taught someone something that has helped them in their lives.
When it comes to friends, the opposite is often true. I sometimes feel like I’m an honorary mother figure who’s advice is to be ignored because it isn’t cool. This could also be a feeling I am getting because of the way society has brought up girls and women to compete with each other and there will always be disparity. It isn’t tangible, and the lessons of women who have gone before us seem outdated and fussy, even if they are only a few years ahead of us in our lives.
It could also be that maybe I care more about it, and think more on it than they do. It could also be that my delivery is too direct. If you were to ask me what I want to achieve in my advice giving, it really is so that other people can make their own lives better. I think this is the crux of why people interfere in each others’ lives. By God, maybe it’s the meaning of life!
I honestly never thought I would get to a stage where I would say “when I was your age..” but, like global warming, it happens quickly and some people still can’t come to grips with the concept.
Moving into your 30s and realising a lot of people in your life were still in high school when you were out getting shit faced at uni or you were already having a career mapped out, is kind of daunting.
I don’t think Ive ever had a conversation with a group of women, especially those who I have just been introduced to, where the topic of how old everyone is, hasn’t come up.
Why do we do that?
It’s some kind of gauge as to who knows more? Or is it some kind of gauge as to who is past their use by date? DO I need to compete with this woman for space, both in getting attention, and for the recognition of my ideas? Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but you’re over thirty so you’re fat and lazy
Even at my recently taken up sport of Cricket. Yes, Women’s cricket there aren’t a lot of us, so I feel naturally, we should band together, one bit of sledging stemmed from accusing another player of being 30. The girl who was sledging the older woman was 14 years old. At 14 years old, she feared being 30 because that was old! In sporting terms 30 is past it. You’ve done your dash, time to go off and have babies and leave the sports to the young and less creaky boned.
How did she get that way?
Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only person concerning myself with such questions. I believe the standard you walk past, is the standard you accept.
On the eve of the ‘lecshun, I’m sure there are a number of faithful readers who are wishing I would just shut up about it already. As it may be, I find it amazing that very few people actually ever take me to task. To those of you who have, Bravo. I believe, with all my strength of conviction that you are mostly wrong, but I will defend your right to be wrong to the death. Freedom of speech. FTW.
There is something that has always always pissed me right off to the core since it’s conception, something I will never defend, and I abhor. It’s about time I blogged about it.
My Family Stickers.
What sort of fuckwit needs to tell another person, possibly trailing them after a road rage incident, that they have 3 young kids and work in I.T?.. At least, I assume that’s what it means when presumably the “dad” character has a laptop floating mid air, and he appears to be unable to get off the phone. Or, That Mum, is 9 times out of 10, clearly a lazy money spending vacuum, who does nothing other than pop out sprogs and go shopping.?
Don’t even get me started about the inherent presumed familial roles and the gender gap, and how you can represent yourself with a prefab, stereotype decal.
Do you really need to add multiple goldfish in 2 separate bowls to indicate you have two goldfish? What does it mean when one of your “family” has a halo and wings? Are they dead now? Was it really their final wish to be represented in spirit, by a poorly constructed, mass produced, stick figure?
Or does it mean they are a twink?
I have seen some attempts at humour in this, and kudos to that guy who just had a Man stick figure holding a cup of coffee and stuck next to him was a stick figure duck. You win the creative piss take award. You did, however, still buy in to the hysteria.
One clearly crazy cat lady, gets 2nd place for actually being the one representation I’ve ever seen of a female character with a laptop floating in mid air, and had placed a plethora of stick figure cats, all the variations available it would seem, in a circle around it.
People with the Mum, Dad and two kids. Your stickers are boring, and nobody cares. People with the “F*ck your stick figure family” take on it, your stickers are boring and done to death. People with the Zombie stick figure family, you are just boring. Today I saw “My Dingo ate your stick figure family” Wasn’t even funny. I’m sure the Chamberlains agree with me.
The only exception to my hatred, was that one time I saw someone’s family as Star Wars characters. Everyone else, you are clearly the reason this country has taken a swing to the right this election. Think about it.