Boys

At the Shop, closing.

VERONICA:  I don’t know why, but you all seem to be convinced that I have some secret boyfriend I’m seeing.

B: Well, yeah.  It’s just strange.  You’ve started wearing make-up all of a sudden–

VERONICA: What!  I’ve started wearing it since the beginning of this year, and you know why?

B: Why?

VERONICA: Because I woke up one day and found wrinkles under my eyes.  I’m not even 30 and I’ve got wrinkles.

B bursts out laughing.

B: So it’s not because you’re seeing someone?

VERONICA: No!  My god, if I had one, I would tell you.  Hell, I’d tell you all before I even told my own mother.

B: Really?

VERONICA: Oh yeah, my mum would be the last to know.

B: Seriously?  Why?

VERONICA: Oh my god, mum and boyfriends do not mix.

B: Doesn’t like any of them?

VERONICA:  It’s not that she’s anti boyfriend, she’s just anti relationship in general.  She’s convinced that we unconsciously throw away our lives being in one.

B: Really?

VERONICA:  Oh yeah.  When I was in high school I got a call from a boy.  One boy.  Through out the whole time I was in high school I got one call from a boy and she flipped out, stood outside my bed room door the ENTIRE conversation and then proceeded to give me a 15 min lecture about how I was a in high school and I was not to dropout of school for a boy.

B:  What!?

VERONICA: I know, the whole thing didn’t make any sense.  I was only 15 for crying out loud.

B: And she’s always been like this.

VERONICA:  The last relationship I was in, it was in the middle of my honours year so it wasn’t the best time to start one, but it happened and you deal.  Anyway, I was over at his place and she rang my phone and was almost in hysterics: “Where are you?” she says. “I’m coming to get you.  Do I need to remind you that you’re doing your honours?”  She acted as if I had ran off to join the circus.

B laughs. 

VERONICA: My sister cops it too.  She was talking to us about her latest boyfriend and the pet peeves that you always have with them, and she mentioned that she was sick and tired of always having to come up with something to do and places to go.

B:  Oh yeah, that shits me too.

VERONICA: Common thing right?  Mum’s reaction: “Oh, it’ll never work.”

B: But it’s a little thing.

VERONICA: That’s what we told her.  “Yes, but it’s the little things that count.”

B: And that’s how she’s always been?

VERONICA: Yup.

B: What are you going to do if you get married?

VERONICA: Simple, not getting married.

B: Really? You’ll never get married.

VERONICA: Hmm…well, maybe I will, but I just won’t tell her.

 

THE END. 

 

 

The difference between a Baker and a Pastry Chef…

The Baker and the Pastry Chef are working alongside each other in the wee hours of the morning.  They are silent in each other’s company, with the Pastry Chef working the dough for the scrolls and the Baker standing by the oven waiting for the bread to bake.

The Baker watches the Pastry Chef work and chuckles to himself.

PASTRY CHEF: What’s so funny?

BAKER: Oh nothing, I’m just thinking.

PASTRY CHEF: Care to share the joke?

BAKER: No joke.  I’m just thinking about how I won’t need to work for too much longer.

PASTRY CHEF: (looking up) You leaving?

BAKER: I might be.

PASTRY CHEF: Found somewhere else to work?

BAKER: I don’t think I’ll need to work anymore.

PASTRY CHEF: Oh really?

BAKER: I got an e-mail last night.

Silence

PASTRY CHEF: From who?

BAKER: British Telecom.

PASTRY CHEF: There’s a British Telecom?

BAKER: They sent me an e-mail.

PASTRY CHEF: Why are you a customer with British Telecom when you live in Australia?

BAKER: Geeze you really are thick sometimes.  I didn’t say I was a customer with British Telecom, did I!? I just told you they sent me an e-mail.

PASTRY CHEF: Why would they be sending you an e-mail if you aren’t a customer with them?

BAKER: Well, I won some money from them.

Pause.

PASTRY CHEF: How?

BAKER: I was randomly selected, and I’ve won $550,000 british pounds.  All I have to do is just give them my phone number and my bank details and they’ll wire the money to me.

Long pause.

PASTRY CHEF: Do you really think—

BAKER: That I can stop working?  Yeah, I thought about that, and I thought that–

PASTRY CHEF: No, but don’t you think–

BAKER: Hey!  Relax!  I’ve thought about this.  With the conversion rates and the Aussie dollar the way it is, I’ll have enough to quit work, pay off the house and invest enough to tide me over.

PASTRY CHEF: I don’t think that—

BAKER: Maybe I could buy a houseboat!  I could live in that, and if I needed a change of scenery, I could just sail away.

PASTRY CHEF: Listen to me!  Don’t you think it’s weird that a company, that you’ve never heard of, sends you an e-mail asking you for bank details in exchange for money?  No questions asked?  Don’t you think that this all sounds too good to be true?

BAKER: Sometimes good things happen to good people.

PASTRY CHEF: Mate, I get those sort of e-mails–

The timer goes off for the bread.

BAKER: That’s my cue (taking the bread out of the oven).  I’m off, and I’ll see you later.  Hey, depending on how fast this money comes in this could my last week! Hey, what were you saying before?

Pause

PASTRY CHEF: Nothing.  Congratulations.  Let me know how it goes.

BAKER: You’ll be the first I invite on my boat.

PASTRY CHEF: Looking forward to it.

THE END:

NB: I know that not all bakers are this stupid, but when I once asked a Pastry Chef why he was offended to be called a Baker, he told me this story.

 

 

 

 

A Selector’s Guide to the Summer Series…

Hi there!

If you’re holding this guide-book it probably means you’re a selector.

“What does a selector do?” I hear you ask.  Well, Cricket Australia are still trying to finalise a working definition, but rest assured that you still have a vital role to play regardless.

 

Now here at Cricket Australia, we understand that a selector’s life can have many demands.  Most of you have had your fill of cricket within your careers, and so we understand that you have some R’n’R to catch up on.  So to make your job a little easier, we’ve compiled this handy guide for you to make your selections for the following Summer Series that little bit easier.

 

1. Beer and Darts

So many players, so many names.  Who can remember them all?  We sure as hell can’t.  I mean, let’s be honest, to us they’re a bunch of stats.  “What’s stats?” you ask.  Shhh shh.  Don’t worry your little head now.  We need you rested and alert for the coming months and you need to look like you know what you’re doing when you show up to these state games and pretend like you’re not bemused at all with all these new names and fresh faces.  We’ve come up with a little game for you which combines your two favourite loves, beer and darts.

Materials:

Cork Board

Darts (at least 12, and make sure you number them 1 – 12)

Pictures and names of various cricket players NB: Make sure they’re AUSTRALIAN and make sure they’re PRESENT!

Instructions:

1. Get either your wife or kids, or yourself if you’re feeling crafty, to stick the pictures and names of the Australian cricket players you’ve acquired on the cork board

2. Grab a can or 6 of your favourite beer.  We usually recommend VB due to sponsorship loyalties, but we also understand if you’ve had a gutful of the shit and decide choose your own.

3. Sit back and when the urge strikes throw a dart.

4. Once all darts have hit a player, you’ve selected your team.  Make sure you write these down.

NB: Having numbered the darts means you immediately have a suggested batting order.  How handy.

 

2.  BINGO

If beer and darts aren’t your thing then by all means, take up the old favourite retirement past time, BINGO!!!

Just simply grab an official Cricket Australia players sheet.  You grab as many as you like.  One side will have the numbers, the other side will have the pictures of the players.  Just concentrate on the numbers for the moment.

Just get someone to roll the barrel and pick out numbers at random, and once you get a number of rows, BINGO – you have your team.

 

3. Spin the Bottle

Can’t be bothered putting that beer in the recycling?  Delay it a bit by putting all the names of players in a circle and spin the bottle till you have your team.  Simple!

 

Of course, these are just suggestions.  You don’t have to follow them to all.  If you have your own way of doing things, then by all means go for it.  It’s completely up to you!

If you have any other suggestions for fun selection, we would love to hear from you.

 

Happy Selecting!

 

THE END.

 

A tribute

This is a bit out of the ordinary, but I would like to do it all the same.  Earlier this morning I submitted my last piece of assessment, and have finished my Masters course.  I feel elated, and in a small state of shock.  For two years this course has consumed a great part of my life and now it will no longer be there.  Lucky for me I will be going to work later today so establishing a new routine and finding new things to do shouldn’t be a problem.

But in the meantime, I’ve been thinking.  I’ve been thinking of all my mates whom I’ve had to decline going out with.  I’ve been thinking of my mum and my sister, who have put up with my papers scattered everywhere, the odd discarded crumby plate, or grumpy demeanour in the morning.  And I’ve been thinking about my bosses at work, who have been so accommodating with a scattered schedule along with my scattered brain.

These people have made up my awesome support network, however there is one which stands out from the rest.

My dog, Tilly.

Through every essay, group assignment and exam, Tilly has sat by me,

on me,

and even on my computer,

and would not leave until I was finished or simply just fell asleep. She really was the greatest.

So Tilly, thank you. I will make up for all the lost play time and devote my spare time to spoiling you rotten with an abundance of roo chews, pig ears and heaps of games of fetch. Thanks baby.

THE END.

FAT DAY

As the sun rises, light begins to seep in through wooden venetian blinds and finds its way to a bed where VERONICA lies in a deep sleep.  Her alarm clock rings and with a heavy head and heart she fumbles about to find the snooze button.  She  falls back on her pillow, postponing the need to get up, and stares at the ceiling.

FAT: Morning.

VERONICA is startled.  She sits up to look around the room but sees no one, she lies back down.

FAT: I said Good Morning sleepy head.

VERONICA: (sits up) Hello?

FAT: Hello.

VERONICA: (looking around) Who’s there?

FAT: What?  Forgot about me have you?

Pause as VERONICA begins to recollect.

VERONICA: Oh no.

FAT: Oh yes.

VERONICA: No, no, no, not again.

FAT: I’m afraid so.

VERONICA: But I only just managed to get over you.

FAT: Oh come now, it’s not that bad.  It’s all in how you decide to see it.

VERONICA: This is bullshit.

FAT: Now that’s not very nice is it?  You’re not making things any better for yourself.

VERONICA begins to get out of bed.

FAT: Bit of a struggle today isn’t it?

VERONICA: Shut up.

FAT: Was that roll there yesterday?

VERONICA: I’m not listening to  you.

FAT: What did you eat last night?

VERONICA: None of your business, but for your information I ate nothing that would give you any fuel.

FAT: Really?  What about that biscuit?

VERONICA covers her ears.

FAT: But it wasn’t just one biscuit was it?

VERONICA: I can’t hear you.

FAT: You couldn’t stop at just the one could you?

VERONICA: La la la la la la la la la.

FAT: No. I believe you had a total of four.

VERONICA: LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA.

FAT: Sing all you want, it’s not going to hide that I’m still here.

VERONICA: Why do you always have to bother me?  Don’t you have better things to do with your time?

FAT: Obviously I wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t a need for me.  You knew you did something you shouldn’t have last night and it’s plagued your mind.  It was like a radio signal straight to me.  I can’t help that I’m here, the fact that I am is something that you’re just going to have to deal with.

VERONICA: So what if I had the four biscuits!  You know what sort of day I had yesterday?  It was a bloody nightmare.

FAT: What do I care?  I’m not your counsellor.

VERONICA: Oh! Oh! So I have to listen to you, but you don’t listen to me?

FAT: That’s not how it works.

VERONICA: Why not? That’s crap.

FAT: Well firstly, I’m not an actual person.  I’m a voice in your head that’s manifested from a bundle of anxieties and insecurities you have about yourself.  By talking to me you would actually be talking to yourself.

VERONICA: This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.

FAT: I didn’t make the rules.

VERONICA: No, you didn’t did you?  Which means there’s no rule about why you should bother to stay.

FAT: I beg your pardon?

VERONICA: I want you to leave.

FAT: I’m sorry?

VERONICA: LEAVE!

FAT: You can’t tell me to do that!  I can’t leave.  I’m here because of you remember?  And besides, I have a purpose.

VERONICA: It’s a shitty purpose.

FAT: Well, that’s hardly my problem.  It’s not my fault.  You created me this way.

VERONICA: Well, everybody makes mistakes.

FAT: I’m a mistake?

VERONICA: Yes, I’m afraid you are.  I stupidly felt guilty about eating biscuits that I was entitled to have.  I should have felt satisfied with my fill.

FAT: But you’re not.  You feel guilty.

VERONICA: Not anymore.

FAT: Well obviously you still do, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.

VERONICA: I’m keeping you here.

FAT: What on earth for?

VERONICA: I’ve got something to tell you.

FAT: I told you, it doesn’t work that way.

VERONICA: That’s what you think.  Now listen here.  I’m putting my foot down once and for all.  No more.  No more punishment.  I know that I’m not perfect, and I have my faults, as everyone else does, but that does not mean that I should beat myself up for them.  I am what I am, and to be honest, I’m becoming darn proud of it, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

FAT: I’m not listening to you.

VERONICA: Tough.  You have no choice.  I’ve had enough of you.  Yes, life will be more enjoyable without you, but there just very may well be the great possibility that I may never be rid of you, and so this relationship as it stands just will not do.

FAT: La la la la la la la.

VERONICA: There will be no more restrictions on the way I live my life.  You do not have that right over me.  I’m allowed to have a biscuit, and more so to the point, I’m allowed to thank myself for having it.

FAT: LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA.

VERONICA: Having you here is not a productive thing.  And whilst I may have a lump here, a dimple there, and a hint of a roll around the other side, that’s not for you to make a judgement on.  In any case, I’m allowed–no, ENTITLED, to love myself for having them.

FAT disappears and is not heard of again, well, at least for a while.  VERONICA goes on with her day.

END.