I have a confession.
I’m not the hugest fan of little kids.
Their constant nagging, endless questions (‘But WHYYY?’) and ability to break into hysterical tantrums if their ice cream so much as dribbles down their little arms (okay so maybe that was me when I was a kid) makes me a little uncomfortable.
But what particularly bugs me, is the sound of these little kids screaming obscenities at each other (‘OHH F***! MOTHERF***ING BIKE! COME HERE YOU ****!), and the ‘whoosh’ of their scooters as they scrape along the concrete through the middle of our washing line (and clothes).Perhaps the only sound worse is that of their mother…
Again I hear her today, the sound coming to my attention, growing in pitch and breaking into an ear bleeding cackle. This is a sound that can only be fully comprehended if you’ve watched that scene in Carl Barron’s ‘Walking down the street’ DVD where some poor woman makes the mistake of laughing during a quiet lull. You know the moment…
Carl: ‘Oh look at that napkin, isn’t it a funny shape? (eeeehAHHAHAWWawwwghh!)’
If you haven’t already, you HAVE GOT to check out this DVD. Just about wet ma pants in this part of the show! lol
Anyway back to the story. This shocking laugh has been driving me nuts now for over six months. I often find myself wondering if this lady’s boyfriend and kids throw a party when she gets a sore throat and can’t talk for a week. Ahhh a week would be bliss!
Now now, before you go slamming me, there is more to this than what ‘meets the ear’. It’s not just her stoner cackle that gets to me, but the whole bogan experience that goes along with the family. Let me paint a more vivid picture of the daily sights and soundscapes that I awaken to. Picture stereotypical wife beater singlets, constant swearing and shouting, toddlers sitting in the car beeping the horn incessantly until they get bored, people coming and going at all hours, the dad and his friends commentating my walks from the front door to the garage..
“Oh here she comes, now she’s heading down the stairs, ohhhh wait, she’s gone into the garage, no wait! She’s coming back! Oh I wonder where she’s going?”
Yes, apparently a woman walking down the stairs to her car and then walking back up the stairs to her house is extremely entertaining. It was only when I stopped working that I realised how much bogan activity actually goes on in our street. You’d think there would be at least one morning they weren’t screaming, but no.
I cannot WAIT to go back to work! Shit, if Centrelink want to drive people to get jobs, just send them to mine for a week! Actually don’t, because judging from the abundance of rats tails, body odour and mutton dressed as lamb that I’ve seen lining up at Centrelink, I can just see our neighbours adopting them all and turning the complex into the number one bogan convention centre.
Maybe I need to learn how to ‘love thy neighbour’. Or maybe I should go buy my own wife beater tee this afternoon and gather my friends together on the front driveway with a couple of beers and blast some ‘fat beats’ from our subs haha. Perhaps this will become a case of, ‘If you can’t beat em, join em!’
Enjoy your day peeps!
This message was brought to you by Little J, and the letter B (for Bogan)