There is perhaps nothing more terrifying than finding out your Mother reads your blog [Well, on that day at least]. Hi Mum! Look at me, I’m on the tele! Internet!
My first thought was: “[Expletive deleted] what the [expletive deleted] have I [expletive deleted] said about her?”.
After a quick skim of my blog [Not even I can read the whole thing. I’m too busy living it, darling] I was unable to find any mention of her.
I’ve been saving this joke up for so long, that I simply must blurt it out here. That way no one can strike me immediately. Here goes:
Nope. Too much pressure.
I’ve built it up now.
It will just fall flat. Like the rest of my jokes. I’ll reveal it on my birthday. You don’t know my birthday? WELL WELL WELL.
Hmm… Now where was I? Oh, right. In the midst of a mood swing. Carry on.
Dum de dum de dum.
I’ll take this opportunity to introduce some of the minor characters in the life that is my movie. In no particular order:
MOTHER: Still has not told me that Santa doesn’t exist. SORRY KIDDIES. You shouldn’t be reading this anyway. Do your homework! I have, however, assisted with the Christmas shopping for my siblings for some time now. Love your work.
She’s stronger than she knows. She just needs to remember that when in doubt, you just have to get some confidence out of a corn flake box and do it! Whatever ‘it’ is. I wonder if a criminal could use the excuse that an unmentionable shoe brand told him/her to just do it? Hmm..
From her I inherited my… not those! … ability to draw swans. My haphazard dress sense – trends are for the meek. My thirst for individuality. My open mindedness.
I really respect her for allowing us to form our own opinions and make sense of the world in a non-judgemental way.
She’s pretty cool. I like her.
FATHER: Still has not told me that Santa doesn’t exist. SORRY KIDDIES. You shouldn’t be reading this anyway. Go to bed! I have, however, assisted with the Christmas shopping for my siblings for some time now. Love your work.
Father Stone has come a long way. Once unable to be in the same room, we can now talk shit for hours. I mean Expletive Deleted!! Good for a laugh.
From him I inherited my taste in music – Thanks for steering me away from teeny bopper [expletive deleted]. Thanks for introducing me to the Rolling Stones (And my name – Mother and father) (that’s not my name, you idiot. They GAVE me my name). Thanks for having the AC/DC poster hang on the back of the Toy Room door.
Dad is open minded too. He is the first to admit that he has a little bit of gay in him. I think he means intrinsically…
He also believes that the key to life is good poo-ing.
I really respect him for evolving as a person… and because he’s the only person I know who plays guitar on the roof of his house in broad day light. Or at any time, actually.
BROTHER: He probably knows Santa isn’t real. It’s not official for me yet, so I’m hoping to score more presents. Relax, Christmas isn’t about consumerism. It’s about getting wasted while basking in someone else’s air conditioning.
He’s the best first brother I’ve ever had. I actually cried the first time I heard him play ‘Sweet Child of Mine’. He’d been learning for so long. Very proud moment.
We’ve had some good times. I think he wanted to hurt me bad when I kicked him between the legs one time. Okay, two or more times. Fair call though.
SISTER: She probably knows Santa isn’t real. It’s not official for me yet, so I’m hoping to score more presents. Relax, Christmas isn’t about consumerism. It’s about drinking more than you eat and giving more than you get and spending time with friends and family.
She’s the best sister I’ve ever had. I actually cried the first time I saw her art. Very proud moment. She has a lot of potential and could do anything she sets her mind to.
I had a nightmare once. Right near her birthday. She must have been around 2 or 3 years old. She was wearing her Bulldogs jersey and playing in the paddock between our place and Nan and Pop’s. A car stopped out the front, and three men walked up to where we were. We were playing with her new toys. That’s when I realised that these men were Baddies. I had to protect my little sister. They threatened to hurt her. I was frozen with fear. I couldn’t scream. They walked closer to her.
And then I woke up.
I’ve been in this constant state of needing to protect her ever since. I must have been around 8 at the time.
BROTHER: He probably knows Santa isn’t real. It’s not official for me yet, so I’m hoping to score more presents. Relax, Christmas isn’t about consumerism. It’s about the hangover on Boxing Day and the Lipo you’ll ask for next Christmas… Like every other year. Get me a fork and a vacuum cleaner.
He’s the best second brother I’ve ever had. I actually cried when he split his head open on the entertainment unit while dancing as a toddler. Blood spurted everywhere. Made the text red for dramatic effect. You like? Blood curdling scream. “Bloody hell” cried the parents. I just cried because he was dancing to Tom Jones.
He’s a good kid. He makes me very proud. Yes, Doofus, you’re taller than me. Why is it that all of my siblings (except for Short-Sis) were always so proud of themselves when they grew taller than me? I’m still better than you.
He’s getting older and I’m hoping he gets his license soon because everyone else is sick of driving me around.
SYLIST: She took Santa’s photo. She knows The Truth.
Now living in Melbourne. As such, my wardrobe is suffering tremendously. What does Melbourne have that we don’t have here? Oh yeah. EVERYTHING!
I miss her heaps. I don’t call her enough because I hate the phone but want to talk to her. Argh! Stupid phone me.
I cried in the car on the way home after saying ‘Good bye’ when she was leaving.
She’s just awesome.
SHORT BLACK: The youngest of my friends, and one of the wisest. He definitely knows about the Santa situation.
I cried when I lost him one day.
He sleeps next to me every night. It might be love.
ORANGE MOCHA FRAPPACCINO: He knows about Santa.
Orange Mocha (as he’s known by friends) is the physical representation of my inner state.
I cried when I lost him one day.
And when he bit into my vein and blood poured out of my body and onto the ground. Arriving home after being at the hospital, he sat beside me all night, as if he wanted to make sure I was okay. Or plan his next attack? He tried to lick my hand because he likes the taste of my precious blood he wanted to make it all better.
He sleeps next to me every night. I think it might be love.
COOLBEAN: His parents probably told him about Santa.
He’s one of the most patient people I know, and easily one of the smartest. He’s Bowie to my Jagger. He sings Magic Dance far too well for a person not wearing silver tights. That’s not a request.
I cried when he told me he loved me. And when we made it to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
THE THERAPIST: He has Santa stashed under the bed. Oh wait, that’s not Santa…
I cried the first time we were intoxicated within the same paddock. I’d just had my hair done and it was stained because I wore a cocktail glass as a party hat. It was full at the time of application.
He is The Wall not to be confused with The Hand. He is also my therapist. He hasn’t tried to charge me $150/hour yet, although I’m sure there will be a bill soon. He’ll need the cash to buy into Scientology.
Points scored for Karen Walker, Patsy Stone and Amy Sedaris appreciation. Oh, and for being him.
THE ARTIST: She doesn’t believe in Santa. She’s an Atheist. If he’s offering a present though…
With a friendship dating back to bus lines in high school, it’s hard to narrow down just a few things to say. Other than: She takes great pleasure in p*ssing herself, literally.
Okay, so maybe there’s more than that.
Underneath the carefully selected outer layers, is a deeply thoughtful dreamer. She believes in love.
THE INVENTOR OF THE GLOVE OF DRINKAGE: Hallowed be thy name.
He INVENTED Santa.
This friend slaps. Hard. But only to ensure you’re kept hydrated. With vodka, or whatever else is going.
One of the two Communists, he is hands down one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. Although he does need to realise that Nic Cage is foul. DEAL WITH IT.
Points scored for being awesome.
If your name isn’t mentioned here, do not worry. It means you’ll be in the sequel.