The Mad World

Let’s also share a collective sob at the demise of Taken Out, as predicted. This article was clearly written in better times.

Sunrise, sunset, oh where have the days gone, oh man I’m totally losing the race against infinity, if only I could keep grasping on but the forces of time, of gravity, man, are pulling me away, they’re saying our time is up, and like it or lump it, I can’t say one damn thing to change that.
Sorry to get all heavy on y’all like that, it’s just that this is the last Tharunka for the year, and the last Barometer for the year or MAYBE FOREVER, depending on if in 2009 I continue wanting to be the toolie graduate who still writes for the college mag, just so she can be the poor mans’ Elizabeth Wakefield.

So we’ll see what 2009 holds, we’ll sit pretty and clasp our hands together and hope that I don’t die over the summer holidays. But we’re not here to talk about my dangerous lack of travel nous, travel planning and travel insurance. INTO THE HOT AND/OR NOT!

HOT
TAKEN OUT
So, my household has a new thing. Every weeknight at 5.58pm we gather around the giant TV that we found dumped behind International House, a huge excellent TV that was a really lucky find, that has nothing wrong with it except for the fact that it goes “BOOM BOOM BOOM” whenever some sick bass notes are playing, and the fact that it turns off if the gaffa tape holding the ‘on’ bucket in place comes loose.
At 5.58 we will switch on Channel 10 and put on Taken Out, The Best Show on TV. For those of you stupid ignorant plebs who don’t know what Taken Out is, this is a dating show where thirty ugly molls get to vote on the dateability of one over-tanned loser who stands in front of them getting steadily degraded as the half hour progresses, either by their potential paramours (“You’ve got a fat head!”), former BFFs (“he always bones fat chicks and kicks them out in the morning!”) or just their own inability to answer questions without looking like a Neanderthal poured into skinny jeans. Rest assured that once you start watching this show you will be STUCK ONTO IT FOR LIFE, or as long as Channel 10 keeps it on air before the PC brigade come a’knocking.

NOT
WISHING WELLS FOR HIRE
You probably were wondering where I was going to inject in the weekly theme of ‘groove’. Thank you for being so cognisant of my failure to adhere to a theme. Thanks. Totally thanks. Anyway we will LOOK AT YOUR THEME, the one that you should just GO AND MARRY OR SOMETHING, because the latest addition to ‘Not’ is something that is actually the OPPOSITE of grooveyness.

Are you old, or religious, and therefore go to a lot of weddings? You may be aware of a little concept freaking out the head honchos at David Jones and Peter’s of Kensington: it’s called a Wishing Well, and it’s a cutesy glorified collection box set up at receptions in lieu of receiving presents. It’s a married couple’s way of saying ‘fuck you’ to their guests; ‘hey losers, don’t buy us some hideous plates or matching leopard-print bathrobes or waterproof travelling bags. We think your taste is disgusting, it makes us dry retch into our clenched teeth, so just give us your money, OK, we just want your money but we also want you to wash it first so that we can pretend your greasy little mitts never touched it’.
Of course, I understand the sentiment behind these wishing wells. A lot of couples live together for years before they get married; they already have towels and sheets and ba-mixes and super-snazzy matching leopard-print bathrobes. So all they want is a nice little bit of money, to pay for their honeymoon or mortgage, a tap on the bum with the hand of opportunity, a leg-up into the dizzyingly depressing falls awaiting them.
To which I say: fair enough dudes, I just really wish you were a bit more subtle with the way you try and sell this idea to your guests. For example, there’s something a little bit wrong with couples who use the following ‘recommended poetry’ in their invitations, particularly the way the idea is drilled home TWICE:
We really would appreciate a little money of our own
Instead of a little gift for our new home.
We know you want to find something nice
But it’s such a hassle to find the right price
So come and enjoy the day all sunny
We really would appreciate a little money.