Short Stories

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

1).  I saw a video today about some people in Ouyen in country Victoria who bought and renovated an old theatre.  One of the people's names was Don Dundee.  That is such a great name it automatically smashed itself into my head and if I was organised I would have rushed to put it in my writer's notebook as a possible future short story character.

2).  I was washing my hands after having a poo before (quite pebbly, irritatingly but thanks for asking.  I'd probably class it as a Bristol 5 but it's heading precariously towards a 1;  unfortunate side effect of the d-ribose but I will take whatever side effects there are for the extra energy).  I was washing my hands and wondering about the first time someone discovered that despite our best efforts there's a fine layer of fecal matter over everything.  I was immediately flung into the fictitious head of someone in exactly this position, wondering how they are going to tell their findings to their partner, who is obsessively compulsive when it comes to cleanliness.

3).  Perhaps I should combine 1) and 2)

4).  I went and had a look at a commercial property today, in my ongoing Ooh, This Idea Might Possibly Have Some Legs But We're Not Quite Sure.  Let's Just Have Fun Following It And See What Happens quest, which I haven't told you about yet in full detail but the bones of which are scattered all over this blog, like here and here.  Well, maybe bones isn't the right word seeing it's more of a yet-to-be-born thing rather than a something that has already died and been strewn around the yard by scavenging birds.  I will tell you about it more at some point if it ever gets off the ground.  The property was not appropriate, as I knew it would not be, but it's good to check stuff out because it's fun and because knowing what you don't want is just as helpful as knowing what you do.  The only problem with looking at scenarios is having to make small talk with real estate agents but oh well, you can't have everything.

5).  I didn't even say in 4). what I was intending to say in it.  Those contents have now moved to 6).

6). The best thing about the property I looked at was the pig.  He was on the decking of the house next door, along with a man and a golden retriever.  The pig is a rusty colour.  He apparently has a bit of an attitude problem.  The pig, said the man, is overly demanding.  This made me like him even more, for some reason.  He does not get along very well with the blue heeler, who remained mysteriously indoors and did not make an appearance on the decking with the man, the pig and the golden retriever.  The pig does like the golden retriever, who remained outside, staring at me over the fence with his tongue hanging out and smiling.

7). There has never in the entire history of the world ever been an inwardly focussed golden retriever.

7). I do not eat pork, but bacon does taste very yummy, doesn't it?  I hardly ever eat bacon, but yet a while ago I bought a whole packet of it.  Sighting the pig has made me feel like I'm not going to be doing that for a while now.  This in turn makes me feel bad that when we had backyard chooks, their existence did not make me stop eating chicken.  It made me feel bad, though and I had to tell myself some convoluted bullshit I didn't even believe about how the flatpacked plastic-wrapped stuff wasn't the same as the girls outside.

8).  I wish the Netherlandian lab meat would hurry up and get commercialised.


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