<100 words

I've found that I can't write anything longer than 100 words on this thing.

Might give the hand writing thing a shot.

Random Conversations

"How about 'blood drops'?"
"Blood drops? How morbid." I respond. She always had a knack of saying the most random things, it was probably why I liked to talk to her so much.
"Yeah, I love it."

Blood drops, I'm sure she loved it. Personally, I blame it all on that 'Twilight' rubbish.

I'd been trying for a while to get back into my writing, but a complete lack of inspiration was hampering my progress. And work had been seeping into every vestige of my life to such an extent that I was finding it near impossible to find some quiet time for my writing. It was in a passing conversation with her that brought all this up.

"Blood drops just sounds so cool, you know? You can talk about a murder, or a vampire or something like that" she suggested, with a gleam in her eye. Again with the 'Twilight' nonsense.

"Mmm yeh, I could," I began, "but its not really my style you know?" I like a more random angle, preferably one without death and blood.

Basking in the Glory

With the shackles that was my CA exam thrown to the wayside, I have returned triumphant.

But I've run out of things to say.

Yeh, second thoughts are often the smartest

True it is past midnight on what I often deem a 'school night' but I'm thinking of staying here for a bit and testing the waters.

On second thoughts, I should go to bed.

Nothingness

Its the beginning that Simon always found difficult. The endings were often out of his control so he did not fear it, nor the middle part which always came naturally to him. No, it was just the beginnings.

"Beginnings are tough" he said to me once, "because there's no baseline to refer off, no standard norm that you can gauge off"

I could see the method in his thoughts, as little as I know of these things I understood the helplessness of starting afresh.

However, unlike myself, Simon pushed through it more often than not. "Beginnings are tough to be sure, but you gotta get through it, and then you're sweet."

I just nodded and drank another beer.

Drunken monkeys and ladders to nowhere.

Monkeys see no need for ladders.

Ladders are a waste of wood, wood that could be used by monkeys to make tiny wooden monkey rocking chairs.

Monkeys see a great need for tiny wooden monkey rocking chairs.

A ladder to a monkey is an insult to their ability to climb things. Its akin to giving a dolphin swimming flippers, or a bird a parachute 'just in case'.

So when monkeys get drunk (which is mostly on a wednesday night) and see a ladder, they naturally look for ways to destroy them.

Its this little tibbet of information that was not conveyed to me last wednesday night as I walked home from the hardware store with my new 2 metre ladder. If I had known that wednesday night was a big no-no for walking around with a ladder I would've held off for day. Or at least gotten a smaller step ladder that was easier to hide.

Alas I did not.

So its late wednesday night, I'd just purchased a lovely 2 metre ladder from the 24hr kmart with the high hopes of using it the next day to visit the top of my next door neighbour's lemon tree when I saw them.

Or more precisely, not see them.

These monkeys were almost ninja like in movement. Not like segal but rather jean claude. And I think that the fact that they were drunk made them even more agile and ninja-like. I would describe it as getting into a confrontation with chuck norris, you just don't know what hit you until you wake up the next day in a room without any clothes on and a strong desire for a 2.5 litre bottle of diet coke.

It happened so fast. A drunk ninja monkey from the left, a drunk ninja monkey from the right and a even drunker ninja monkey from behind. Like a drunken ninja thief from the night, I was left battered and bruised and sans my ladder.

I hate drunken ninja monkeys.

The milk bit is somewhat important.

So this weekend I was told that I am not a humorous man. And like the extremely self confident man that I am, I naturally let that statement destroy my ego.

My ego is in tiny tiny pieces on the floor.

Nonetheless I can only go out there and prove the wrong. If i must go and research 1001 knock knock jokes, its what I must do. If I must go and learn humorous anecdotes about monkeys and fairy bread, its what I must do. If I must become wittier, more sharp and biting, its what I must do.

I must also buy milk.

Tiny tiny pieces on the floor I tell you.

Just give me time.

"Have you ever wanted to pack it all up and just leave?"
"Pack it all up and leave? Where would we go? What would we do?"
"Just be free" she says, a twinkle in her eye betrays her excitement, "we could explore the world, do whatever we want"
"But what about..." he begins,
"Forget about it" she says sharply, the eyes now dark with anger "forget I even asked".
She gets up and walks to the kitchen to make a coffee, the coffee isn't as important and her need to get out of the room. Away from him.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thinks, she had plans. To see the world, find her place in life.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He follows her to the kitchen, confused with what just happened but at least aware that she is upset.
"You ok babe? What's wrong?" as he places his hand softly on her waist.
"Forget about it, I"m fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes".

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I really do need thicker blinds

I'm eagerly waiting for daylight savings to kick in this weekend for a number of reasons. Firstly, I've found that sunlight has begun to enter my room at the ungodly hour of 6.30am, a good hour before I need to be awake. Secondly, I do enjoy riding home in sunlight instead of complete darkness. And thirdly, daylight savings means summer which means Riverland.

God I miss long Friday nights at Riverland.

Disconnected

I'm feeling an amazing disconnect with other people at the moment.

Its quite disconcerting to be frank, and it doesn't sit well with me.

Maybe its just me.

Listen and Read

Bout time of a music/book update;

Music
- The Ting Tings; We Started Nothing
- Triple J; Like A Verson Vol 4
- Tegan & Sara; The Con
- The Very Best Jazz Remixs
- New Pornographers; Twin Cinema
- Damien Rice; O

Books
- Haruki Murakami; After Dark
- Haruki Murakami; The Elephant Vanishes
- Raymond Carver; What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
- Truman Capote; Breakfast at Tiffany's
- Michael Chabon; The Amazing Adventures of Kaviler & Clay
- Jonathan Tropper; Everything Changes
- Jonathan Safran Foer; Everything is Illuminated

Obviously I've gone a little crazy with the reading...

Saturday Office Rambling

Its the totality of things that plague my mind that is most annoying.

Each specific issue on its own is mind-numbingly simple but when jumbled together and without clear identification, it's just a mess.

It's like my work station; a mess of paper and files and pens, pencils, calculators and everything in between.

The congestion is a window to my busy soul.

I should start cleaning.

The Wind

The wind reminds him of the past.

Not the present, naturally, it is hard to be reminded of what is happening that very instance. And by that token, it doesn't remind him of the future.

So its the past, the past where all things land.

touche.

from here.

Fingernails.

The fingernail on my left index finger is longer than all my other ones.

This would be a fascinating subject if not for the fact that it makes it very annoying to type on a keyboard. And if you know me, you know that I live to type on keyboard.

So I've cut it. But in an exercise that is clearly discriminatory to my left index finger, I've decided not to cut any of my other ones.

Lets see what happens.

Random Haiku.

Tomato juice
Black coffee without sugar
Oh, for a proper breakfast.

Late friday night
The light in my soul awakes
For empty promises

Electric lights hum
Yellow line into darkness
We wait together.

The year I stole things.

2003 was the year that I stole things.

I had just turned 20 years old and into my second year of what would turn out to be five long years of university.

And I stole.

It was mostly small trivial things; an apple from the market stall while the grocer was preoccupied opening boxes of mandarins, the morning newspaper from the neighbour's front yard in the early morning, a shot of tequila from a bar top, the cutlery left on the outside table of a swanky restaurant or even a free ride on the rickety trams down Swanston street.

It was all taken for nothing. And it felt good.

In the summer I mostly stole fruit. The stone fruits are a lovely size for concealment and the benefits were instant and delicious. Towards the winter months I began to venture into the large shopping complexes, walking in and out of stores and absently pocketing random objects. Thicker jackets and layers of clothing always made things easier. And then came spring.

It was in spring that I got caught.

I don't think she even cared.

Now

"So what now?"
"We continue on, we do what we always do."
"But what if thats not enough? What then?"
"Then we push on. We don't stop moving. We look out for each other."

The title before would be more appropriate.

A mouse's dream of horses and other unrelated matters.


Its 12.01 when J gets the first sms.

10 minutes later and the message count is 15. J sighs, this can't be good news.

"J, she ran off, no good. Need to find her. Help. PC"
"J, whered she go?? where are u??? PC"
"She was soo hot...."
"J man, I got her shoe, I got an idea. PC"

He found her shoe? He has an idea? This definitely cannot be good news.

And so begins yet another misadventure of J's life as Prince Charming's mate.

.

As per usual, M wakes up with the rising sun. However, unlike normal days M wakes up today with an unexplainable desire to eat hay.

Mice don't like to eat hay.

M is confused.

.

J met PC back in college, PC was studying the regal duties required by him while J was waxing lyrical about sunsets and soft petals falling off a snow covered rose while getting through barrel after barrel of mulled wine.

Naturally they hit it off wonderfully.

J in his often drunken haze refused to provide to PC the respect and reverence that is demanded, and PC reveled in the fact that someone treated him as a nobody.

Also PC loved his mulled wine. And the ladies.

.

M tries to remember the previous night. He remembers hunting for food in the courtyard of the house. He remembers a flash of light. He remember hooves.

He finds some breadcrumbs on the kitchen floor and nibbles at it in thought.

.

J finds PC on the sofa, just left of the jewel encrusted solid gold royal seats of his parents. They'd found the sofa discharged on the side of the street last year on one of their drunken stumbles back to the castle and decided that there was still some life in it yet.

"J where have u been?"
"Hey PC, sorry dude, was out at the back with that Jess chick, why are you holding a glass shoe?"

A mouse's dream of horses and other unrelated matters.

Its nearly midnight on a Tuesday night that I find myself sitting alone in my one bedroom flat. Its cold, not unbearably so, but cold enough for me to notice it. So there I am, Miles Davis is playing quietly from my stereo in the other cornoer of the room and I'm sitting in front of an empty screen thinking about Cinderella.

"Cinderella?" Steve the Parrot says, "That old broad, why you thinking about her?"

I don't know. It must be me.

The things I do for snow.

So for some reason, I'm back in the office.

Work in Progress

"Friday Night Chickens"

So it is a Friday night.

Friday night is the night that John steals; Thursday night being the night he does his laundry and Wednesday night being the night he watches re-runs of M*A*S*H while eating barbeque shapes.

Just like most stupid things in his life, it starts with a beer. And another. And another. And one more because it was his shout. And another because its not his shout. And then one quick one just for the road.

And then he finds himself outside the neon lights of his local Safeway.

Coles cooks better roast chickens than Safeway. Its a simple fact that he had learnt from Steve the Parrot.

"Coles just does better chickens." Steve the Parrot would say, "its a simple fact".
"What proof do you have? Isn't it just a question of personal taste?" John would ask
"No, its a simple fact."
"How so?"
"Don't argue with me boy, I know my roast chickens."
"But aren't you a parrot? Isn't that like eating your cousin?"
"John...shut the hell up."

The quality of the roast chicken and Steve the Parrot's apparent taste for cannibilsm aside, John knew a far simpler fact, Safeway's roast chickens are much easier to steal. And through the drunken haze that one gets after 15 pots of draught, ease always takes preference over quality.

John stumbles through the metal gates of the store with the grace and nimbleness of man under the influence of over 4 litres of beer. He..

To be continued....

Moleskin #1

Electric lights hum as the yellow line stretches into the darkness. We stand in line, each in our own world. But we wait together.

My point exactly.

Sick

I do enjoy how my body decides to get sick on a saturday morning, because there's nothing better than spending a whole weekend sick in bed.

So instead of missing out on a day of work to get better, I get to miss out on parties, my friends and general happy things.

And knowing me, I'll probably wake up tomorrow and feel heaps better for work.

How wonderful.

To Do

1) Stop hiding
2) Leap, and take chances
3) Stop letting fear dictate my life
4) Happiness
5) Eat breakfast everyday.

Over it.

Its amazing how much I don't care anymore.

Ratios, be nice to me.

Financial Accounting exam tomorrow morning at 9.15am in Footscray.

West Footscray to be precise.

The baiston of wealth and class and all that is good in the world, and just to the west of it is West Footscray.

Now I strongly believe that I've reached the point where I can confidently walk in tomorrow morning and scrape by with a pass. Its all that I require, and pretty much all that I deserve.

Here is another little thingy I marked up back in the day, quite apt for my current situation as well.

something from the vault

circa http://users.bigpond.net.au/kjingo/ times (that'll be 2nd year uni folks - 2003)

wow.

must say that this is still pretty awesome :)

post midnight posturing.

I've had this strange feeling in my chest for the last week, nothing medically wrong mind you, but just a tightness and sense that something isn't right.

Yup, something isn't right.

But to put it mildly, fuck it. This blog-centric posturing isn't going to do much about my current state of being, nor is complaining about it to anyone who'd listen. Just gotta find some time to reassess and form a new game plan.

FIrstly, I need to pass these two exams.

Then I'll find my way.

Haha talk about weird priorities.

3 new songs;

- ph7: machines
- jeff taylor: angel
- soul capital: know the law

All can be found at www.thesixtyone.com

Sydney/New Music/Exam Cramming begins.

Massively big last week up in Sydney, got the pics up on my fbook page. Not much to say except that my liver hates me.

Also going to bed at 6am is not the best idea when you have a 3.5 days of seminars ahead of you.

Further tales to come.

Also, hit the JB hifi and came out with;

DJ Shadow: Endtroducing = very very good
The Kooks: Inside In/Inside Out = fast becoming on of my fav cds ever
John Mayer: Continuum = crap.

Haha must give the mayer some more airtime but right now, kinda disappointing.

Exams next monday and thursday, haven't even begun reading yet due to excessive work commitments :( Exam cramming dont let me down!

obviously I can't count. that or I don't care as much of the rules.

2 things;

1) The post with "it was this or a tax return" was my first and possibility only blog post I've done while in the office. Admittedly it was a Sunday but that doesn't make it better, kinda worse actually; and

2) www.thesixtyone.com is awesome. Free streaming music, with loads of random new stuff I bet you never heard before. And you can legally download some of it (haha see those words aren't normally seen together; 'legally' 'download'). If you got the time and inclination, go listen to umm Jeff Taylor - taught me.

3) I know I said 2, but since I'm here; the office (us) season 3 and 4 is too good.

its how i remember.

DR assets
CR liabilities

DR expense
CR revenue

DR boredom
CR life

it was this or a tax return.

Sitting at my desk at work on a Sunday afternoon is inherently and utterly sad.

With that in mind, I'm feeling alright. Last night saw the official "opening" of sweatshop bar (near the cnr of latrobe and exhibition st). I use the quotation marks for the simple reason that sweatshop has been open to the public for a few weeks now, that much I know as a fact cos I've been there.

But opening night is opening night. Quite a nice affair, firstly the place wasn't as absurdly packed as it has been lately so that was a nice change. Also there was free cocktails.

You have gotta love the free cocktails.

Unfortunately I wasn't in the mindset I needed to be in for free drinks. Probably the realisation that I had to come to work today made me hold off getting supremely hammered. That and cocktails are very sweet and I didn't want to die of a sugar overdose.

Since I've been going to sweatshop/seamstress I've been drinking more and more cocktails. Unfortunately I haven't figured them out yet; with beer I'm good. I know my limits before it all goes pear shaped (somewhere between the 8-15 pots mark, depending on how quickly I drink). But with cocktails, I'm finding it a lot harder to gauge, from what I gather, somewhere around the 4-5 mark is about right.

So yeh, slept through my alarm this morning and ended up getting into the office a good 2 hours than I planned. And I really haven't been that productive so far. Oh well, at least I got some things done so hopefully I won't get destroyed tomorrow...

Dinobots speaking in french accents?

Listening to Jose Gonzalez sing about 'Killing for Love' makes me think about young Hose in my Year 8 Japanese text book.

Young Hose makes me think about the annoying kid in Captain Planet who had the heart ring.

Which brings me onto thinking about rings. And then cow bells. And then more cow bells.

Welcome to the wonderful world that is my headspace. Its a lush place of imaginary unicorns and transformers, especially dinobots who speak in a french accent.

For some reason I think my Year 8 Japanese text book was called 'Kokusai', which may also mean something else. Possibly 'school' or something education'y. Hence that thought I suppose.

And that'll be all for tonight.

I'm not an alcoholic; alcoholics goes to meetings.

Just how good is Sufjan Stevens?

Obviously that's a rhetorical question.

He's so good that I've chose to listen to Illinois from start to finish over gta4 on a brand new ps3

Well that and the fact that I knew that if gta4 was fired up, I'd probably wouldn't get any sleep tonight. Whereas I only have 2 songs left before its bedtime.

First time I've been sober on a Friday night in what feels like ages. Quite a strange feeling, and while I know its the healthier option, it just doesn't feel right.

Usual things.

My inane ability to distract myself from doing what I need to do never fails to surprise me. That being said, this blog's very survival depends on it.

So I've got a few things I should be doing at this moment; namely studying my post-grad ca bridging thingy. And while management accounting is a barrel of laughs and excitement, I've found that randomly surfing the web at www.digg.com or www.penny-arcade.com and lets face it, too much www.facebook.com, is far more entertaining. And lets be honest, if your 3 months behind, whats an extra day?

And then there's that whole mobile phone debacle. 2 weeks back in the drunken haze that is Friday night after-work drinks, I happened to 'accidentally' drop my phone while performing the extremely difficult task that is talking into it.

Obviously I was very drunk.

So I've got 1 x broken phone, 1 x old crappy phone that I'm currently using and 1 x semi amusing anecdote about Friday night drinks.

Thankfully my 3 phone contract just expired so I'm free to spend an obscene amount of money on a new phone. Looking at the nokia 6500 but we'll see.

At this point in time I've actually run out of motivation to continue this post. So in the true kjingo tradition, I'm just gonna end it here.

Sorted.

Obviously paragraphs are too much for me right now.

At the point where I know I should be getting ready for bed but yet finding other things to do instead.

The dishes in the kitchen aren't going to wash themselves. If they did that would be quite confusing for me.

Not finding enough hours in the day. Also not finding my shorts when I want to ride home means I have to borrow other people's.

And now that I think about it, that was quite wrong.

So what to do?

Simple really; I'll just get off this couch and get into that kitchen. Clean up. Brush teeth. Wash face. Go to bed.

And then I'll do it all again.

Got new ski pants last week, for no reason besides the fact that they were bright orange. Also something to do with a good waterproofing number and there was a sale sticker on the price tag.

God I'm a slave to the consumer market.

Need to hit the gym more regularly than I am currently (i.e. start going again).

Band of Horses is a really confusing band name but very good music. And Feist. Feist is also good. But my current work playlist is alternating between the Wombats and Indigo Jam Unit.

Nothing like some jazz to get you into the mood of doing tax returns.

And those dishes haven't washed themselves yet. Its a test of wills and I think I'm going to have to admit my defeat to the inanimate objects.

Also beginning to realise that as no-one is actually reading this, I'm just writing for myself.

Feels good.

almost haiku in its simplicity

thursday night,
beez neez beer,
footy show.

'nuff said.

Windy with chance of no communication.

Firstly, lets just gloss over my last post and its complete strangeness. In my defense, it took less than a minute to take the pics with my new macbook, its not like I spent all night photoshopping it.

The weather today was terrible. Managed to ride in in the morning but at 4pm in the afternoon when I looked out from my 30th floor office and saw pretty much nothing besides dust in the air, well I decided that maybe riding wasn't for me. A bit of rain doesn't really bother me, its the chance of getting blown into the river that I was worried about.

Sametime (our work version of msn for inter-office chat) broke down today at work, which actually resulted in less productivity on my part. Go figure.

Thats bout it really for me, think I just wanted to put something up instead of those pics :)

What I did on my 9 month leave of absence

This is me and Joseph the Camel. We travelled together from Melbourne on an early Monday morning to the eastern empire that is Tsing Tsao in north-western China. We tried to avoid the tolls. And we only got 2 speeding fines from Malaysia.



Me on the alien homeworld with Earth in the background. Didn't really know what the place was called because unlike standard hollywood convention, the aliens didn't speak english.



Me v Phaeton; leader of the evil Neo-Sapiens. Ended up challenging him to a game of rock, paper, scissors. Needless to say, paper always wins :)

The camel's name would be Joseph by the way.

Quick one before I head into the slumber world.

Yesterday (i.e. 30 minutes ago) was April Fools Day and I may or may not have sent around a leave of absence email to some friends at work saying that I had been recruited by aliens to go to their homeworld and join their underground resistance movement against the evil Neosapians (random exo-squad 80s cartoon reference there), and that before that I'd be fulfilling my life-long ambition of trekking from Melbourne to Tsing Tsao, China by camel. Yes, a camel. And yes, Tsing Tao is not a location but a brand of Chinese beer.

And sadly some people didn't really get the joke.

I really, really hope that I don't have to walk this back when I get into the office in 8.5 hours time. It would just be sad for all parties involved.

So what should I do? I'm thinking of just overplaying the joke just in case some people didn't get it the first time. Cos we all know that I'm the fool anyway.

Ohh freaky, listening to "The Animals Were Gone" on my itunes and just when I wrote 'fool' in that last sentence, Damien Rice actually sang the word 'fool'.

No seriously, how cool was that?

Let's Dance to the Wombats

This afternoon's task is simple; be out the office at 5.30pm at the latest.

And since I've put this done on this wonderful contractually binding world that is my blog, its going to happen. Haha that being said while I'm sitting on my couch just past midnight listening to my new music and glancing at the moto gp.

But new cds, new music. Went to chadstone this afternoon for some random shopping and mag-nation'ing. Picked up a new fragrance (hugo boss energize) and I'm seriously considering subscribing to Times mag. But more importantly, I found myself at JB.

JB Hifi is a girlfriend to me, it teases me with sales and proceeds to drain my wallet dry. The past few visits have just been straight dvd attacks; season 2 of harvey birdman, or hustle, or the new futurama movie or stranger than fiction (good movie, haven't gotten into the mood to rewatch it though). But today, it was the cds.

- Damien Rice "9"
- Jose Gonzalez "In Our Nature"
- Sufjan Stevens "Greetings from Michigan"
- The Wombats "A Guide to Love, Loss and Desperation"

All for just under $60. Admittedly its a big hit but I was in the mood.

Really happy I went out on limb with the Wombats, there have been times I've bought a cd based a single song I've heard on the radio only to find the rest of the cd just didn't live up to that one song. I got the Wombats solely on "Lets Dance to Joy Division", a song I honestly believe I've only heard twice on triple j; but so far, the rest of the cd is just as good.

I've found some joy; good music.

too much internal monologue, not enough frozen coke

what to do, what to do.

its a vicious circle, i want to write an entertaining story of parrots and taxi drivers and love and everything in between, but my mind is still stuck in the haze that is work.

there's a balance to be found here, and its not something thats gonna fall in my lap. and as they say in the telemovies, you have to fight for it (what telemovie said that i couldn't tell you but i'm pretty sure one of the actors from beverly hills 91210 was in it)

so i'll just sit here for now, looking at the work that i've brought home as it looms on the edge of my couch. And i'll start the internal dialogue where i con myself into thinking i'll wake up early tomorrow and head to the office and be working hard before 8. And i'll curse myself for not being true.

its a tough place to be in, for sure, but i won't delude myself into thinking it makes me different from every other lemming out there. Nor should i think that it doesn't matter i suppose. Everything matters. Even the small things like my choice halfway through this entry to properly use grammar and capital letters.

so i'll soldier on, one day at a time, one week at a time and try not to live for fridays. Because Fridays are fleeting. Well not actually fleeting in the sense that there'll be a Friday every week, that much I can be sure of,

But yes, we can do this. Need to stop pretending and find the joy.

Steve the Parrot says hi.

Pointless Rambling ver 8.01a

Ok, so before I begin, lets all look at the lovely time-stamp and as a group; as a collective being with one unified voice express wonder and concern at the time. Yup, its 12.43 or 44 or 55 (depending on when I stop writing), and I'm not sleeping.

I could blame a lot of things, the heat (its hot), coffee (although I didn't drink any today). lack of tireness (no, I'm actually quite tired) etc. But honestly, there is no logical reason for this diatrabe. No reason at all.

Steve the Parrot went absailing on the weekend, he said it was good, but how good can absailing be if you can fly?

Yeh, I'm about done. Supposed to head into work early to get a head start on some stuff, probably deluding myself in thinking its going to happen. That being said, the fact that I wrote it here probably means I'll force myself to.

Anyway, zzz

Steve the Parrot pt 1

The parrot’s name is Steve the Parrot.

“True, the “the Parrot” bit at the end is a bit redundant,” he confided to me once while he was drunk and sprawled over my left shoulder, “but it helps when I don’t meet people face to face I guess, at least this way there’s no surprises…I feel like a souvlaki…”

Steve the Parrot doesn’t like surprises. He grew up with in a simpler time when being a parrot just meant you had to sit on a pirate’s shoulder and ramble on about gold.

“Now it’s all about the hedge funds and options and arbitrage this and that…back in the day your wealth was what you had in gold in a chest buried on some tropical island.”

Nowadays Steve the Parrot is a junior manager in a middle-tier accounting firm at the outskirts of the city. He slaves away in front of his laptop-cum-desktop feverishly pecking away on his keyboard.

“I’m pecking too much these days” he says sadly, “there’s so many zeros behind numbers now that my beak has been bent out of shape. I’m thinking of complaining to the OH&S department to be honest”.

But he never will. Steve the Parrot didn’t survive all these years by complaining to some second-rate amateur just out of university with a worthless degree and a full box of freshly printed business cards.

“You just have to suck it up you know?” he tells me at lunch, “I’ve been around long enough to know that everything comes full circle eventually, hey you gonna eat all those fries?”

And that’s why I’ll always respect Steve the Parrot. Because he likes to eat my fries.

And also, he’s a parrot.