Nice hat. Photo: Haw-lin
1. To officially answer the question that I’ve been receiving most often recently: No, I am not the beneficiary of a trust fund; No my parents do not pay for my travel; and No, I’m not a spoiled rich white kid. I grew up in a small three bedroom house in the Christchurch suburbs and went to a public school (Burnside High). I started stockpiling my pocket money at the age of five, working a paper round at nine, then pushing trolleys at the local supermarket at 15. Since then I’ve always held at least one job, often three or more, and besides a little parental help at university, I’ve paid my own way. That said, Nana Shirley did give me $100 yesterday, but that was a combined Christmas/Birthday present.
2. Winter is coming, the cold is nigh. Time to visit those knitting ladies at Masco Wools in Westfield Mall Downtown and get them to make me another one of these bad boys, though this time maybe a size or so larger. My next acquisition though, will be the Little Brother for Barkers duffel coat. For $399 there is literally no better men’s jacket on the New Zealand market. Only problem is, I still can’t decide between tan and navy.
3. Remember Iced Animals? Feeling a tinge of nostalgia, I picked up a packet from Foodtown last night. Arnott’s has dropped the fricken ball. At some point in the past 10 years they must have changed the recipe because those iced animals now taste all kinds of bad. Childhood is officially over.
4. I hate to get all political, but did anybody else see the cover of the New Zealand Herald yesterday? That $2,000,000 plastic waka promoting Maori culture kills me. Not because I have anything against Tangata Whenua or Maori culture as a whole, but because it gives every racist, bigoted, right-wing New Zealander a ridiculously large and expensive bullseye to direct every piece of pent-up prejudice towards. We don’t need a plastic waka to promote Maori culture. It’s a ridiculous expenditure. Nor do we need a $12,000,000 rugby ball that can host 200 people at a time – that’s an even more ridiculous expenditure. And we certainly don’t need a venue set up with stalls so that international visitors can learn all about our agriculture and fisheries. Who wants to go on holiday to watch some rugby and get an educational tour of the host nation’s natural resources? What is wrong with this country? We have the PR skills of baboons!
5. Another interesting read yesterday was Katherine Lowe’s essay on older guys hanging out with younger girls in bars.
6. Speaking of which, I keep having female friends come to me all upset because the exciting and fun (bad boy) that they’d fallen in love with didn’t actually change into a nice guy after the dating had finished and the relationship had begun. Grow up! Choose your prospective boyfriends more wisely. Like my Dad always says, if somebody shows you who they are, believe them. If a guy is a fun, exciting jerk now, he’ll be a fun, exciting jerk later down the line. But once the fun and exciting has worn off, he’ll just be a jerk. Go for the nice guy!
I LIKE YOU!