I am secretly judgmental of denim in colours other than blue.
Despite having a degree in film I have never seen The Godfather, Cool Hand Luke, Saving Private Ryan, Apocalypse Now, Annie or Psycho. And I didn’t like Citizen Kane.
A small and unworthy part of me would be more excited about the prospect of a trip to Disneyland than a trip to England.
I still can’t use boolean operators.
I have the intermittent desire to start up a rock band called Deviated Septum.
I have never had a decent massage. I am not sure if this is due to a structural defect inherent in myself, as I bruise very easily and have a wonky back, or simply because I have never shelled out for a professional one. I am curious to try it, but I suspect it would be overrated and I know it would be expensive. The kind with the hot rocks strikes me as interesting though.
I have never roasted pork.
I bit one of my sisters one time. She knows who she is. The one with the deckle-edging. This was a long time ago, though; I have not, and I stress this, done it recently. I bite the pig sometimes though, but not maliciously; just ’cause she’s squishy.
I made a woman in the supermarket feel guilty the other day. She was standing around in a Maggi T-shirt, and I beamed vaguely and said “Hi” as I went past, whereupon she was all “Ooh” and dug around her in her bag and was all “You want a voucher? It’s 50 cents off any Maggi sauce.” And in a friendly way I said “Ah, thanks, but no, I boycott Maggi because they’re owned by Nestle”. And her eyes went wide and she was all “Oh I know, I used to work for Greenpeace!”, to which I was like “Er, k” and she started stammering and saying “I’m only doing this this weekend, it’s not my usual job!” I did my best to assure her with a smile that I bore her no personal ill-will and understood that One Does What One Must in these difficult times and all, but she was clearly panicked that I would think she was a soulless shill. My smile isn’t as reassuring as it should be. I feel kinda bad about it: she probably went home and donated her week’s wages to the bilby in a fit of eco-ethical guilt.
nat Says: