Late Phrase.

I pen this weeks Friday Phrase with my donger door open. Right now in front of my room, out on the path there is 40 blokes gathered speaking work, wealth and football. If I closed my door I'd be regarded as a cunt and not in the good sense of the word. So I yell stats from the NRL site I'm toggling between so I've got an excuse to at least hang in my room. The door open though has the aircon colliding with the warm, dank, damp air of the top end this causes my room to be a focal point of mass condensation. I sit hear yelling NRL stats in my deepest cunt voice, growing bacterial fungals in my condensating* room  and the thing that keeps me calm is the satisfaction that while amidst all this blokeyness going on I've got Frank Ocean in my head phones, a gay, black man singing rnb to minimalist beats all of which are the enemy to the outside going ons. Anarchy in the donger village.

Any way back to the phrase.

Last week I flew back up to work. Everything about the trip was reminiscent of the last and the one before it. I took only carry on because baggage carousels give me anxiety, I go early so I can sit in qantas club as long as possible. For some reason I feel like I've finally made it when I sit in there, people don't know what I do or where I'm going and I hope their assumptions are that I'm a professional board sporter of some sort or a musician or something cool. Sometimes I get so involved with that though that I too assume that thats what I'm doing.. to you real life board sporters and musicians fuck you must feel good in airports knowing that you're not going to darwin to pour concrete yet somewhere tropical to stay in nice hotels and deny hot girls that want all in ya grill. Anyway on this flight I was sat next to this frail little old lady, she was somewhere between the ages of 90 and post-mortem, clothed in nun apparel and baring a pretty heavy accent that I'm calling was lithuanian and I'm not saying that because I'm familiar with said accent yet more so cause I ain't. So, this possbile passed, Lithuanian nun struggled with the new ipad screens qantas are running this resulting in 75% of my flight trying to decipher the lithglish questions and help fix the problems. Pretty standard stuff, I was more then happy to help and after the flight I didn't think about it once more.

Until... And this is where the friday phrase took place. This case though it's not what I heard (as bad as it was) but more so how I replied. Wednesday morning some 4 days after the flight a bloke that I work with in passing by stops me. We are both already sweating profusely and I don't know if he is but I sure know that my thoughts are on surviving the day with out developing bad gooch chafe the few steps I've already taken that day are making me worried (fire retardant clothing and dank heat man, shit is rough) Danny way, ol' mate goes to me, oh and I must make a point of this, as "boss", "champ", "big guy", "Brus"etc stops to engage an actual conversation I've already walked passed. See in big trade-men sites everyone you walk past you give them a quick stare use one of the mate based address's like "how ya goin big dawg?" but you don't actually ever stop to hear the answer and the other guys just asks the same question with a different bunch of words and you don't answer him either, you seriously spend most of your day passing other blokes trying to keep your acknowledgement/addressing's fresh and different, as I write this i realise how fucking weird that is haha. Sorry carried away again. Ol' mate goes to me "saw ya on that flight?/!" I reply "oh yeah, she's a fucken long one to still be in the same cuntree hey?/!", "yeah it is, lucky for you looked like you were getting INTO THAT OL' NUN"... And this is where the shameful reply came. Before I let this out I just want to let my mum, maybe some older family member ie aunts and such and also any girl I'm slowly developing a online presence with, you know liking a couple photos on ya insty then stepping up to a comment here or there clasping at any straw of humour to share a skerrick of common ground, something..anything that will warrant a facebook add, then from there conversation in chat where we both use google and dictionaries to make ourselves seem smatter and more worldly than our australian hickish selfs are then hey maybe that goes well maybe you're convinced I'm a decent enough guy and I'm convinced you're convinced so we get to phone messages maybe snap chat, things are going swimmingly you're thinking yeah this guy is a good egg. Well if your at that stage or are one of these people maybe don't read on or if you do, know that I said this out of adapting to my surroundings and not because these are thoughts or things I would say in any other environment. This is proof that you are a product of your enviroment. I replied "Yeah cunt, nuns are sluts"..... as soon as it left my mouth I knew I'd done wrong. I thought "wait a minute, isn't nun the antonym for slut?" but I was in darwin on a huge job site and ol' mate just says "yeah bro, they fucking love it" and we both carried off into the dank, damp gooch crucifying day that is my life.  #sorrymum  

Just quickly while you're already thinking I'm a douche. This only applies to males and possible lesbians with a thing for straight women. But how is it when you see a girl post something on facebook and you're thinking wait a minute i thought her last name was "......" and then it clicks that she has somewhere along the lines gotten married and you're first thought is oh shitty, there goes that. Well when you do think thoughts like that remember, god made us this way- conscious clear.

   "yeah bro they love it" 

Otto "live" Powers

At work, 12 hours a day, my surroundings don't change. Every day is a reminder of the day prior and a prediction of what tomorrow holds. The mundane brain kill I put myself through everyday is like a construction ground hog day, but unlike Phil Connors no matter how well I treat people this cycle continues. Out of work, back at camp, things aren't to much better. I get home go straight for dinner, come back to my room for a shower then into bed for 2 hrs of trawling Facebook and instagram thinking of funny ways to criticise people, mainly out of jealousy but also cause..... I'm jealous.

One of the funner times I've been having lately is on my bus ride home. Out those big bay windows the top end is in full flight. Australian bogan culture  is rich and crowned king of the land. On any given day it's not weird for me to look out the window at the lights and see a couple blokes having a sculling comp with tallies.... while driving. The natural gas industry has gone and given some of the worlds most stupid people a shit ton of money and they are smoking, drinking and impregnating what ever they can.

Our bus drivers change from trip to trip, somehow though lately I've been scoring the same dude. This guy is a modern day Otto with Kenny Powers dress sense. So yes, he is everything cool embodied in one single human being. For the last couple of trips I've pretty much just been impressed with his ability to play pretty bad ass 80/90's music consistently and at such a loud volume that most everyone on the bus hates him, but he gives no fuck to that, it's his ride and he'll bump what ever he wants. Today though, today he shone. It was like any other day, we were cruising along at a medium pace O.P. Had his black leather boots on, blacked out speed dealer sunnies on and although I'm to intimidated to check closely, what looks to be a pounamu necklace (the ones that are like green hook looking things that are sold in every place thats remotely New Zealandish) Anyway he was chillin' pumping the toons (his spelling not mine) and out of no where, as it does in the top end a massive storm rolled in. This shit was heavy, lads on the bus had their phones out filming just how little you could see ahead, I was in the front row just over O.Ps shoulder and i could not see a single white line, side of road or brake light ahead it was black out... Did he take his shades off to see better NO did he pull to the side of the road or even slow the pace a little NO O.T. reached for his ipod that was currently pumping alien ant farm and I kid you not he quickly clicked his way to "rain mix" playlist on the pod. For the following 10 minutes of black out death ride while everyone on the bus shit themselves and sent out final messages to loved ones, O.T. sang at the top of his voice the following 3 songs, with the first song being repeated twice while he safely and possibly unknowingly drove us to our destination. Live - Lighting Crashes, The Who - Love reign o'er me and The Doors - Riders on the storm. It was fucked up and I found misfortune and a deep sense of self disappointment in the fact that going about my life the way I am I will never amount to half the human O.T. is.

I know I missed a Friday Phrase but today at lunch I heard this conversation, not the best but still piss funny (be sure to read in your most occa accent and read "fucking" the way i spell it that will help get the accent)
"you been to that new maccas?"
"nup, you?"
''yeah"
"howzit?"
"fharrken fancy as fhuck"
"yeah?''
"yeah fharrken cafe and shit"
"fhuck that'll bring in the poofs"
"cunts"

Phrase Friday #2

Friday phrase this week comes at 3 in the morning, while some of us gather our nescafe blend 37 and others heads lay lifeless on the tables in front of them. At this time of the morning I'm still a good 4 hrs off properly waking up. The working day has just started and it's kicked of with a safety meeting, as always though safety among a bunch of ex/current ice addict divorcee red necks turns into a blame game and in the space of 5 minutes (03:05) there's a heated discussion about who has been stealing whose pies from the pie warmer. Lynn our cleaner (and all around nerdy pussy of the group) points his blame from behind the guard of our supervisor at Billy, the 8 foot 5 inch, biker looking concrete pump controller. If Billy is having a really good day and he's feeling mad happy vibes, he might grunt "fuck off" instead of throwing a apple at you if you try say hi to him. Billy's reply to the allegations and this fridays phrase... at 3 in the morning, straight faced "don't you eye ball me you twerp cleaning fucking faggot, I'll stab your face with a fork" no word of a lie, as Ghandi is my witness that was exactly what was said during a "safety" meeting at 3am monday morning.

So next time you're having a bad day, say a photo you thought was really good only got 15 likes or they put the mayo on your crunchy chicken bowl at the local sushi joint even though you clearly asked the 13 year old girl that works there and should be well on her way to being a professional at her job by now not to put the mayo on. When shit is going that bad, just remember you don't have a mundane job that makes stolen pies that you get given for free dont make you angry enough to want to stab some ones face with a fork (not the easiest utensil to sink through the skin) And think hey maybe I'm doing alright, I don't want to lodge this chop stick into that girls face, all i really want to do is find out why the powers that be keep making girls develop into large breasted porn star looking creatures at such young ages and make me question my moral fibre while im trying to stomach 3 litres of egg and rice vinger whipped together and dropped on my crispy chicken.