Every now and then I like to pretend I am an ’80s television programme and delve into the mailbag (aka the search-term referer logs) to answer some viewer correspondence.
Robyn Gallagher real name
Princess Roshonda Boutros Meow-Meow Taaniqua O’Gallagher. Which is also my security answer for online banking.
What can I say that can be expressed like the sunshine?
Like warm banana peels playfully slapping my shoulders.
Like fluorescent tubes from a happy office.
Like meteorological baguettes, feeding me with brightness.
Like a thousand yellow highlighter pens.
This is how you make me feel.
Let me tell you one thing – you stick with a pencil. Because in a couple of years’ time, you’ll be back on my doorstep with a suitcase under one arm and a child under the other saying, “Mother, I made a terrible mistake. Oscar was not right for me!” Ink is not good enough for that rogue. Sign your name with a light pencil and keep an eraser in your pocket at all times.
Transvestite and Auckland and smoking and New Zealand
“Well, hello. You must be new around here. We don’t get many new faces these days.”
“I’m actually just visiting. I’m from Tasmania.”
“Well, you’re in the big smoke now, darling. And speaking of smoke – if you’re going to light up, you’d better do it out on the balcony.”
“But I thought you could smoke inside here. It said on the website…”
“Oh, that blasted website. Do you know, that has caused us nothing but trouble. Ralph put it up back in the ’90s but he forgot the password for it years ago. It has old prices, old photos and the claim that we are “Australasia’s only transvestite cigar bar.” Nothing but trouble.”
“But I came all the way here.”
“Sorry, darl. Rules are rules. Oh, look. You’ve got a nice face and you’re wearing those control-top tights well. We have a smoking room out the back for staff breaks. Just don’t tell the Ministry of Health!”
“Thank you. You’ve made me a very happy man.”
“I’ll show you the way.”
Sleep deprivation effects
Rap song on the dole
Every day I go to the office on WINZ
and this is where my fun begins.
I get the dole and buy some booze
and get into a drunken mood.
Don’t want no job. I’m on the dole.
I ain’t got no self-control.
I’m a figment of your imagination,
oh listener of a talkback station.
Rap, rap, rappy, rap-rapp.
Rap-rap, rappy, rappy.
Rappy, rappy, rap-rapp.
How did Hamilton Lake get its name?
There was a lake and it was in Hamilton and they looked at it and they said “there is a lake Hamilton so we shall call it Hamilton Lake”. And they did and it was good.
Turning 33 poem
Now you are 33: a poem
Many a notorious man or woman
has reached the age of 33:
Chubby funnymen John Belushi and Chris Farley;
wife of JKF Jr, Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy;
Richard II (blame his cousin Henry);
Evas Braun, Peron and Cassidy;
writer William S Burroughs Jr and rapper Pimp C;
soulman Sam Cooke; conceptual artist Leigh Bowery;
Jesus and Bon Scott (of AC/DC);
and writress Robin Hyde.
All these people were 33.
33 when they died.
Are you interesting?
No, not really.