This Blog is Undercooked...
Take it back to the Kitchen.
Hey everyone.
I've been reading on the internet, in the chatrooms and on the newsites, about the stuff happening in Sydney. The Anglo-Saxon surfer race riots, the Lebanese kids with baseball bats and lead pipes smashing car windows and carrying Glock pistols, the whole nine yards.
Which is all pretty worrying, even if it is two fingers to every Sydneysider who thinks that Queenslanders are more racist than people from New South Wales.
Sure Queenslanders are racist. But people from Sydney are just as racist. Just like people from London are racist.
I hate to say it, but I almost miss Pauline Hanson, since while she was in the limelight she was a constant reminder of the vein of ill-educated colonial retardedness that runs like a river through Australian Culture.
But enough about that.
My ego demands that I talk about me.
Me me ME!
It occurs to me that I have neglected to mention that about three days ago the washing machine in my flat had developed a terrible lead. This is not too soon after I washed a load of jeans where the spin cycle sounded like a steel dragon grinding his teeth.
In between mopping feverishly, I did the only thing I could: I called my Landlady and pleaded for help.
My landlady, let it be noted, is a total champ and told me that she would sort out getting it fixed on Tuesday (ie today). Yesterday we established that since the leak was coming out of the washing machine and not the pipes, a plumber was not going to be any help. So the washing machine could be fixed or replaced. Since fixing the washing machine, including parts and labour, would be more than the machine was worth, she actually bought a new washing machine for the flat.
Which we took delivery of tonight just after six.
Neato. It looks like a slightly updated version of the old one. Hopefully it won't develope a leak any time soon.
The East European chap who installed it told me that when washing to put in no more than eight pieces if clothing at once.
What? That equals about four days worth of clothes. Roughly.
I guess I'll have to be a bit more frugal in the amount of stuff I put in there. Bear in mind that I was only loading it to about two thirds full, in any case.
Exciting stuff.
Oh yeah, I also went to the HMV and collected an address to send my CV to.
Over and out.
J
Hey everyone.
I've been reading on the internet, in the chatrooms and on the newsites, about the stuff happening in Sydney. The Anglo-Saxon surfer race riots, the Lebanese kids with baseball bats and lead pipes smashing car windows and carrying Glock pistols, the whole nine yards.
Which is all pretty worrying, even if it is two fingers to every Sydneysider who thinks that Queenslanders are more racist than people from New South Wales.
Sure Queenslanders are racist. But people from Sydney are just as racist. Just like people from London are racist.
I hate to say it, but I almost miss Pauline Hanson, since while she was in the limelight she was a constant reminder of the vein of ill-educated colonial retardedness that runs like a river through Australian Culture.
But enough about that.
My ego demands that I talk about me.
Me me ME!
It occurs to me that I have neglected to mention that about three days ago the washing machine in my flat had developed a terrible lead. This is not too soon after I washed a load of jeans where the spin cycle sounded like a steel dragon grinding his teeth.
In between mopping feverishly, I did the only thing I could: I called my Landlady and pleaded for help.
My landlady, let it be noted, is a total champ and told me that she would sort out getting it fixed on Tuesday (ie today). Yesterday we established that since the leak was coming out of the washing machine and not the pipes, a plumber was not going to be any help. So the washing machine could be fixed or replaced. Since fixing the washing machine, including parts and labour, would be more than the machine was worth, she actually bought a new washing machine for the flat.
Which we took delivery of tonight just after six.
Neato. It looks like a slightly updated version of the old one. Hopefully it won't develope a leak any time soon.
The East European chap who installed it told me that when washing to put in no more than eight pieces if clothing at once.
What? That equals about four days worth of clothes. Roughly.
I guess I'll have to be a bit more frugal in the amount of stuff I put in there. Bear in mind that I was only loading it to about two thirds full, in any case.
Exciting stuff.
Oh yeah, I also went to the HMV and collected an address to send my CV to.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 8:41 pm
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