Tuesday 30 September 2008

Exportation




I've started a company. It's called DeTamble Exports. My first job is to export myself.

I leave on Sunday.

Apart from that I've been busy these past few weeks, hence the lack of posts.

My friend Amber came to visit. She, I and Michael went over to Bee's inner-city apartment (very sexy!) and ate chocolate hash cake and watched Alien, spent the whole time making crude jokes about it too and wishing there was more nudity! When the movie was over Amber said she wanted to watch porn and so we went to the porn shop near the Teddy Bear shop on the next street. We spent an hour there. We bought a gay German porno called...erm...actually I don't remember what it was called. We also got this real old school one called Every Inch A Lady, that was awesome! It was like a whole fucking movie! I've never seen such an intense plot on a porno before!! There was a three DVDs for the price of two so we also got one called Amberella. My friends tend to call me Ella alot, what can I say, Australians have an obsession with shortening names. So a porno with Amber and Ella in it. We had to have it!!

It was good but I freaked out whilst watching it because a) it was old porn and the girls obviously never heard of trimming and b) neither had the guys and c) remind me to NEVER EVER EVER let a guy with a moustache go down on me! NO FUCKING WAY!!! It looks gross!!! Get your filthy yeti lip away from my pussy!

I finished my last shift at work last Sunday. All done! YAY! I was going to burn my work shirt but instead I had people sign it :-) inlcuding a customer.

The past few months I've been sick on and off, it's been a fucking nuisance!! Back in March I lost about 4 kg in two weeks...illness does not become me in the slightest. July 2007 I got this horrific bout of influenza and it just keeps coming back. So I went to the doctor three months ago for some injections (for Uggy Land) and she measured and weighed me and said that I needed to gain some weight. She said it would be a very wise idea to gain about three to five kgs otherwise if I got sick, malaria or something else that I have never had, then I'd at least have some spare pudge. Apparently the last thing you want is to get sick and already be on the lowest BMI. So I put on some weight....and I didn't have to pay a cent to do it! My Mum when all Motherly on my arse!!

"Ohh my Baby is leaving me, let me feed you!!" And so she did. And I ate. And now I'm fat*. And my Doctor is somewhat proud of me :-)

Now all that was fun but the best thing I did was last Friday. I was in the city and there was a group of Aboriginal dancers there from the Yuggera tribe and I was watching them, along with a couple of hundred other people and one of the guys came over and asked me to go dance with them. So I did. I dumped my shoes and bag with their stuff and went and danced.

*48kg.

Thursday 11 September 2008

The Real Land of The Free, Do You Hear Me



CB Disclaimer: This post may offend some people and is sure to diverge from its original point and go down the ranting path. It will be long, most of you will drop off like starving refugees along the way and are unlikely to reach the end.*


…I actually intended this post to tell Comrade not to compare Indigenous crime rates with that of South Africa or an American ghetto but already I’m going to deviate from the point and write something else.


We came here in chains, as animals, bitter, angry, frightened, the hated scum of another place. Slaves under another name. That’s what we were and that’s how we treated you.


We brought our diseases and consequently killed over half your families.


We tried to survive in a place considered akin to hell. The flies, the dust, the suffocating heat, no rain, no water, no food and with the brutality of the place where we were born we used you and killed you.


That’s what our society had taught us, take and destroy. Remember to pillage before you burn.


Collectively I guess we moved on, or some of us did. I know there are still places that are racist, homophobic and sexist, like Townsville. But it seems, to me, looking back, that we, the White migrants, learnt some compassion, developed a sense of humanity, realised that it is wrong to treat others as less than yourself based on something as insignificant as your skin tone.


I don’t know where I’m going with this, it’s weird to talk about. It is taboo.


I want to say I’m sorry for the actions of my ancestors. I’m sorry we took your land without asking. I’m sorry we treated you so badly. I’m sorry that so many migrants, White or not find it so hard to look you in the eye when we pass you in the street. I’m sorry so many of us are afraid to talk to you. I’m sorry that we continue to follow misconceptions without asking for the truth.


When I was younger I wondered if I could leave, go back to Europe, one less person living on land that is not theirs. But that is silly. It would make me immensely unhappy and solves nothing. This is my home, Australia is where I was born, it’s where I’ve grown up and it is the place I love more than anywhere else. This is the country of my citizenship, I have no where else. This is me. I am Australian and when you leave, your country means all the more to you. When you’re gone and you meet someone else from your home, no matter how fleeting the relationship is, that person will have an innate and almost complete understanding of you. It’s a shared history, a shared humour, we know the same sounds, same tastes, same smells, we know the intricacies of our culture.


Our history is shameful and I have felt ashamed in the presence of Indigenous Australians. I am Irish Australian and my white skin speaks for me, it tells you where my ancestors are from, it screams hundreds and hundreds of years of unacceptable cruelty. Black people say we put them down, made them feel less than animals, slaughtered them and it’s true. But through all that you were never in the wrong. Wait till you open a history book and realise that every single thing in there is White people senselessly and horrifically killing anyone who wasn’t White enough. All that pain and suffering caused by people you’re so obviously related to. No wonder White people don’t want to look at their history, it’s pure hatred and violence. I don’t want to look at an Indigenous Australian and know that someone from my past killed or raped or beat someone from their family. And so for years I hung my head in shame when ever I walked past any Indigenous person. I couldn’t look at them, the guilt was too much, I didn’t want to acknowledge it.


I shouldn’t feel ashamed though. Just because my skin is White doesn’t make me a bad person and though my ancestors did terrible things to humanity doesn’t mean I have to follow them and I shouldn't make other people, however unintentionally, feel ashamed of who they are. So for once as I passed an Aboriginal lady in the city I smiled at her, instead of looking away like everyone else was doing. She looked so shocked and I felt as shocked as she looked, my heart was beating wildly, I was worried she would dislike the fact that I had so obviously taken notice of her, since it isn’t normal here, I didn’t know what the reaction would be but I worried needlessly. For a few moments she just looked shocked and then she smiled back, it was a huge smile, hell, it wasn’t even a smile it was a massive grin! And I loved every second of it!


Screw feeling guilty and ashamed. I accept that the country Australia has a terrible history but it is history, don’t make it the present. Move forward. Don’t follow the stereotype. It doesn’t matter if you’re Indigenous Australian, German Australian, Sri Lankan Australian, Malaysian Australian, Ugandan Australian or Irish Australian, we’re all Australian, we all matter and we should treat each other with respect. Mostly we all went through a lot of crap to be here too, the Indigenous put up with terrible treatment and most of the migrants came as prisoners or fleeing starvation, war or corruption. If it isn’t enough for Australians to treat each other the same simply for being Australian then the fact that we ALL have grandparents who suffered for us to be here should be enough.


*Country Boyi disclaimer, though the post didn’t reach the length nor did it step on as many toes as I intended, I’m leaving the disclaimer anyway. In fact this post totally deviated from my original plan. But I realised you can read facts and figures in the history books, Blogs are for the feeling behind the statistic.


Up there, that girl is Samantha Harris. She is fucking gorgeous. Sorry Comrade, I can no longer marry you, I’m afraid Brothers GUG and WildeY will have to go without their cows and cars because I’m marrying an Aboriginal so I can have a kid who looks like her. Plus there is no better way to find peace, merge so there is no one left to blame ;-)

Thursday 4 September 2008

To Bathe and Beyond!

A new family moved in downstairs. A Mum and two kids, the kids don't go to school cause they are too cool! Just like I was. I didn't go to school properly, ie. more than term here and there, until I was 13. But this really has nothing to do with anything except that I found some photos and I'm going to put them up here.

Taadaaa!!

This was my old room, no proper walls so I plasticed them up and stuck some entertainment on them...yes, that is my school hat.

I used to sneak out that door and go sleep with the Lithuanian boy next door ;-)

This is my back yard...the chickens be long gone :-(

And this is my Fire Bath. You fill it with water, light a fire underneath it and when the water is hot you put the fire out, get in and lie around naked in the sun. It's heaven.

Not that you can see but the fire is in the shape of a tortoise. Sorry about the crappy pictures but I was naked when taking them (shock, horror) and I couldn't be bothered going down in the yard to take a good picture.

Cassiopeia. We gave her away, thank God, I'm so sick of pets!

Tuesday 2 September 2008

Happy Centenary!!

This is my 100th post.

I wanted my 100th post to be a happy one, or something special, to celebrate 100 times of extreme time wasting on Blogger.

But instead my hundredth post will be this:

You and I, GUG, are no longer friends. I will never speak to you again. I can't block you from my Blog but I will not be going to yours ever again. If you show face here or in my inbox you will be ignored. Princess and I have put up with you mistreating us for too long and for me this is officially the end. Don't think this is done out of anger though, sure it contains a small amount of spite and vengeance but there is no anger here. Not even annoyance, simply cold calculation and my conclusion is that you are not the sort of person I want to know.

Sorry Princess, for dragging you into this, but you're not online to consult with right now and frankly I've had enough. I'm cutting him off and I am sorry that you'll most likely get caught in the middle.

I am aware that this is taking things to far but that's just too bad.

See, he and I were joking around yesterday, a continuation of that Comrade thing he started in response to Petesmama's kwanjula post. As usual it was amusing but apparently I was not my usual feisty self, he was right, I was being restrained. So I made an effort to give him what he wanted, despite my better judgement and I told him exactly what I thought and things stopped being so funny.

In case you were not aware GUG is marrying me off, as his little sister, to Comrade. I'm totally cool with it, even though in essence he is selling me to Comrade. But since I actually like Comrade I really don't mind either way. All was fine until I wanted to know how much he reckoned I was worth (50 cows and two cars). But instead I was told that "Women are not supposed to talk money. Or possessions. It is, err, demeaning to womanhood". And this is where it got nasty and stopped being a joke.

He had either not read the signals that stated this was not a topic I wanted to discuss or he was just pushing me on purpose because that's something he seems to like to do. So GUG, this is an absolutely non-joking, non-sarcastic version of what I said, since you didn't get it the first time around.

And just so you know, I am no feminist. Feminism pisses me off, too extreme, overbearing machoness also pisses me off. I loath seeing men or women throwing their weight around claiming to be better than the other sex for whatever brilliant reasons they've come up with.

The middle way is generally best.

So when I'm being told that because I am a girl I am not allowed to do something, think something, say something, that's hardly going to sit well with me. I would NEVER tell a boy that he is not allowed to do something because he is a man. I would not exclude someone based on gender. I would not stoop so low as to presume that based simply upon someones gender that I know better than them or even have some kind of right to tell them what to do.

And GUG you're right, I've forgotten the difference between us. Or maybe I never knew it in the first place. Because the only difference I see is that I'm from a generation that has complete sexual equality and sees no point in raising one sex above the other in any situation.

Also GUG, I do understand, you're not speaking in code, I can understand you. But just because I understand you does not mean I agree with you.

And yes, I was a little harsh and said that his customs were sexist but most customs are either sexist or just plain stupid. Like eating chocolate on Easter. Or everyone following Coca Cola's Santa unquestioningly. And yes, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and in my opinion GUG is hypocritical. When someone whinges and whines about being treated as less than human because of their sexuality, something you have no control over and then turns around and declares, even jokingly, that because I'm a girl I just don't have the same rights as a boy, that is being hypoctritical.

And in that case GUG, if, as a woman, my place is on my knees before a man, then your place, as a homosexual, is prison.

In other words, I'm tired of your bitching and I'm tired of you imposing your 'male rights' on me. I'm tired of your complete disregard for mine and Princess' feelings and I don't like the way you come crawling back all apologies and sweetness and then hurt us all over again.

And one last thing, this was never about Africa. This was about your personal need to show how manly you are by putting others down. And you're right, I won't be googling African Women because this is not about African women, this really has nothing to do with Africa anything. It's simply that whether being serious or joking it's not acceptable to put an entire group beneath you just so you can feel better. And I'm not going delving into your past posts, so if you have written posts about how wonderful women are that makes what you said even worse.

Of course maybe you just really dumb, or maybe you just like to play with people or maybe you're just not that great at reading social situations and you often tend to accidentally go too far.

I don't know and I don't really care but I do not surround myself with people who are sexist or racist and I would be stupid to continue to hang around you when for almost the exact same reason I have cut contact with other friends.

GUG, you are no longer welcome here.

Monday 1 September 2008

Everyday White Trash

I showed up at work today and was presented with a...a...OH GOD IT WAS AWFUL!!!

They gave me a white cap to wear that said 'Everyday Money' on it. See, Woolies, yes, I am ashamed, I work at Woolies. That platypus killing, bush destroying, evil corporate, selfish, bastardised, community fucking, slavery riding, profit scamming, hell hole dictatorship they call a business. And this business, like Tomas de Torquemada in green, has made their very own credit card. Hence the cap, not only do we have to use our head as advertising space but we're also supposed to ask every single customer if they would like one of these debt inducing Everyday Money credit cards. Of course I did not ask a single person. I do have morals you know!!

But this cap. It's huge. And I was seething about having to wear it. I don't do caps. Do I look like a stupid cap wearing gangsta to you? No, I didn't think so! In fact I had to stop hanging out with those Zimbabweans because their constant cap usage was tarnishing my otherwise impeccable reputation. I can't be seen with people who wear caps. By the way, Comrade, if you dare to wear a cap in my presence you can bet your black squashy nose you will be punched. Don't. Tempt. Me.

I was sulking. Hardcore. About this crap-reputation-image-damaging cap I was being forced to wear. I spent two full hours sulking until one of the girls I work with, who didn't have to wear one because she isn't a checkout bitch like me, said it looked like it could be a truckie cap. So I made the horn sign and she cracked up, which made me slightly happier. Only slightly mind. Wazza came by and made some stupid gangsta joke. I pulled some dumb gang sign and said 'sup nigga with one of the stupid pouts they put on when they try to look cool. And then it came to me, something to make me happy. I'm a gonna steal that stupid cap, cross out money and write White Trash instead.