Issy was deeply affected by a story he saw on the affluence of Cashed Up Bogans and he has decided he no longer wants to be a store manager at EB games but a bricklayer with a suped-up ride – a Dodge Viper with nitrous tanks or a Chrysler 300C, luxury sedan. He wants to have a mullet like Joe Dirt, wear a flanny and smoke White Ox. Geez I better not let him see Kenny or he’ll think you gain social prominence and great wealth being a portiloo specialist and driving a liquid waste removal truck!
Issy is an absolute classic. I love hearing about his take on what happens at school. I barely ask him how class was but rather “What did you play at lunchtime Iz?” The other afternoon he tells me “Billy Bombs called quits Mum, too wet!” And because I take an interest in probing into his life away from home, I knew exactly what he meant. Lately they’ve been playing brandy, but he’s realized that’ll be cast aside for something else soon enough, gang-up tiggy, handball, kick-the-can, fish-outta-water, or his very own “Billy Bombs” and that games have their season and then are recycled for another day, just like the shows on tellie. For us it would have been a cycle of beanie, seveners, hopstcotch, elastic, marbles, red-red-rover and stuck-in-the-mud. But that was back in the day. (Sounds like every one of my entries could be called “Back in the Day” the way I’ve been reminiscing lately!)
I went to a little bush school up the road from an Aboriginal community, so there were plenty of Aboriginal kids, plus a varying medley of other cultures as well. The references that ended up being embedded in our everyday speech were so localized I reckon an outsider would have a hard time understanding our meaning. There was this allegory amongst us school kids about a one-armed man called “Ernie Reefmulla” and it was the biggest insult to say “Ah ya Reefmulla!” and if anyone had a haircut they’d get teased “you bin ta Olga Murphy eh?” Everyone said it! It wasn’t until years later that I realized Olga Murphy was a hair salon in town and I actually met Ernie Reefmulla and he was just a normal guy! (With one arm.)
Our principal was fiercely devoted to our unbeatable reputation as the district ballgames champions, we trained hard, everyday, for hours. We were guns! We also spent hours maintaining the school gardens. We were the groundsmen as well as the pupils. Considering my school life and the little amount of time we actually spent in the classroom as well as my mothers non-English speaking background it’s a wonder I have any grasp of proper English at all.
But I think I do. And the ever changing vernacular that gets around. But I would never use language as a means to exclude someone. (That’s why if a word has more than three syllables I ask Greg if it’s okay if I use it first. ) But you know I hate all this LOL n RATFLMAO, it’s just stupid. I mean are you really rolling on the floor and laughing aloud? No, I think not!
I’d really like to make my own smiley though. It’d be pulling that face, you know the one where you cram your tongue down into the space inside your mouth under your bottom lip and push it out with a moronic look in your eyes. I’d use that one all the time. Huh!I think I better put myself to bed. I’m getting all frenetic like Bubby when he’s overtired!