As a typical student, I’m one lazy dude.
Tomorrow’s NTEU Strike has me feeling pretty happy – one of my classes is cancelled (YAY)!
Cheers, Strikers.
As a typical student, I’m one lazy dude.
Tomorrow’s NTEU Strike has me feeling pretty happy – one of my classes is cancelled (YAY)!
Cheers, Strikers.
Well, well, well. It would appear that merely posting about not going to the symposium will satisfy the participation requirements, eh?
Then surely, re-inception-ating such a post and posting about a post about not going will more than gratify the checklist, if not…geh.
The Oatmeal is a website I’ve been following for a couple of years…
Here is his take on Disney’s latest fame to shame transformation and a series of rather unfortunate events.
So… last night I was perusing through YouTube and I ended up in THAT WEIRD PART.
I don’t know when exactly I strayed from ‘normal’ and reached ‘downright strange’ but all I know is that I became truly lost.
I’m sure everyone has experienced this before. You start with a video you intended to watch and after viewing a couple of seemingly harmless ‘related’ videos you end up fatigued, thirsty and without a damned clue where you are.
Becoming lost on YouTube is a lot like being lost in a forest. At night. With creepy noises. Quite often you’ll be scared, whether it is because of the sheer irrelevance of what you’re watching or whether is it the fact that you honestly have no idea where the last hour(s) of your life went.
Below is one of ‘those’ videos that made me realise I seriously need to sort my shit out…
In the interest of originality, I’m going to share my thoughts on escalator conventions and vent my distaste with those who don’t follow the unwritten laws of use.
I remember my first week at uni, how I felt aimless and ‘in the way’ of individuals who walked with a certain purpose in their steps – the business people and those with leather briefcases. I felt that I walked slower and with less conviction than the experienced regulars of the city. These feelings of difference from the majority of the city-slickers were only confirmed when I was told to ‘get the f*** out of the way’ by a bloke who looked old enough to be my dad. This harsh exclamation shocked me at first – but now, I look back on that interaction as a valuable life lesson.
Having spend over 12 weeks commuting to and fro’ the city, I have found myself becoming unjustifiably frustrated when people – particularly CBD novices, are determined to stand motionless on the left side of busy escalators and block the way of those who have places to be and things to do.
It appears I too have become an impatient and slightly unstable escalator Nazi, in only one semester of uni. I wonder what other transformations I will experience in the remainder of my time in the city. Will I start wearing a suit? Carrying a briefcase? Swearing at strangers? Who knows. I sure as hell am interested to see how I turn out.
Here is a link to the work of a modern day Gandhi – a man who seeks peace on the world’s escalators which I think should be a compulsory read before one steps onto a moving staircase.
Now, I s’pose I should go ahead and make my first post…
After mulling over a number of ideas I thought that I might share my experiences on trains over the last few days…
T’was the 25th of July, 2013. And I was on my way home from an exhausting 3-hour day at uni. Sitting on the train minding my own business, I was shocked when I heard the most exaggerated laugh I’ve ever heard coming from a fellow commuter. This lady, who must’ve been in her mid-late 20s was giving her lungs and vocal chords an absolute workout – the projection of her semi-psychotic cackle was INSANE… and closely resembled the laugh of one particular meth-head from Breaking Bad who may or may not have crushed her husband’s head with an ATM. Regardless, the laugh proved to be only the beginning in a series of worsening behaviours exhibited by this maniac. After scaring most of the occupants of the train to the point of changing carriages, the perpetrator decided it appropriate to loudly start ranting about the state of Australian Politics, Nelson Mandela, Aboriginals, Babies, The Royals and just about anything else making the news. This rant was made up of the most foul combination of swear words and racial slurs I’ve ever heard – truly disturbing the peace which usually floods Melbourne’s Metro train network. Now I’m not saying that this woman was definitely a psychopath – but some of the things I heard coming out of her mouth would redefine the meaning of insane. This experience, however was not the first of the week…
The following mid-morning as I jumped on the train into uni at the brutally early time of 10.21am, I was met on the carriage by a couple with a couple of drooling Staffordshire Terriers. Not only were these dogs making an enormous amount of noise – they also climbed the hierarchy of the natural world and sat on the train seats as a human would. Normally this wouldn’t even phase me, but it was the first of 3 major events that made this train ride one of my most memorable to date. Another 10 minutes into the trip, a relatively normal-looking man jumped on and sat into the seat next to me. This is another example of something that usually wouldn’t bother me – but the fact the there were at least 20 free double-seats in the carriage made the situation a bit more unusual. Next, I noticed that the man was making an awful lot of hand gestures, which was strange because he was talking to himself – madness… As if all of the above wasn’t enough, at Clifton Hill station, a man who was obviously intoxicated (may I remind you that it was about 10.50am) graced the carriage with his presence. Slung over the man’s shoulder was a huge rucksack concealing a rather large object, and in his other hand was a plastic shopping bag filled with a number of beers. The man stumbled through the train and took a seat not too far from mine on the opposite side of the train – before he proceeded to crack another coldie and neck it in about 4 minutes flat. Clearly in need of another – the man reached into his bag and summoned another beverage. Now, I have absolutely no problem with a troubled individual enjoying a nice beer or two at 11 in the morning, but my tolerance of such a character goes out the window when they feel the need to let the whole train hear their rubbish music. Much to my dismay, this bloke decides to pull a stereo the size of a small human out of his rucksack and starts blasting some heavy rock – just what you want to hear when you’re half-asleep on the train. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the opportunity to capture any evidence of this most recent train ride – but I assure you it was easily my most memorable to date – for all the wrong reasons.
Sincerely,
Disgruntled Metro customer.