LATEST ARTICLE

Vote 2020 x 4

It's no secret I shall be #PartyVoteGreen and likely to be Labour Paul Eagle for my Rongotai electorate. I shall also be Yes for both referenda.Now that's that out of the way you should of course ignore it and do what you feel is right.First of all I would urge you to VOTE! Make sure you're enrolled and your details are up-to-date: https://vote.nz/enrolling/enrol-or-update/enrol-or-update-online/Done that, no really I can wait, off you go, check your details ... Ok, good. This year from Wednesday 2nd September (overseas) / Saturday 5th September (in NZ) to 7pm on Saturday 19th September you get to vote on one or more of the following:The makeup of ParliamentParty voteYour local MPCannabis legalisation and control referendumEnd of Life Choice referendumYou can vote via post, look out for your voting papers later this month, or in person at many voting booths around Aotearoa New Zealand.
That's who (YOU!), when, where, how, and I shall assume you know why. If you don't…

The Forum: "Nutter Attractor" by Fi

This is the fifth in the Forum series as I pop up what people were talking about online before we knew about blogs and could do it ourselves - The Forum, as published by Mike Boyle (that was me back then)

This is from Fi a friend-of-a-friend that even though I am 'connected' on Facebook I don't really know what's going on in her life. This is dated 4th April, 2001 as part of her "Melbourne Life" column.

"Nutter Attractor"

Hello friends!

Some of you Wellington folk will recall that when I resided in Brooklyn, I became, through no fault of my own, the arch enemy of an old, mad, overwhelmingly smelly, quite blind Hungarian man who took the same bus as me. He would single me out on the bus each morning (no mean feat for someone who can hardly see ... although admittedly I am quite stunning first thing in the morning) and even if the entire bus was brimming with vacant seats virtually crying out for an old dithery foreign man to sit on them, he would come and squeeze himself in beside me and begin berating me in Hungarian (I assume he was berating me by his exceedingly angry tone, although come to think of it he could well have been telling me about his fondness for apple strudel or young journalists ...). Hungarian Nutter would alternate between yelling loudly at me and then looking at me expectantly for a reply, and scolding me in English for not speaking Hungarian, which he consistently tagged with the words "in English". For example "You speak Hungarian now, in English!" and "Move over on the seat, in English!". Quite disconcerting. The man really disliked me. I could tell by the way he came rushing up to me in the library cafe one day and shook his fist in my face, mumbling something clipped and Hungarian sounding.

Anyways, since living in Melbourne I have come to the conclusion that I am a Nutter Attractor. They love me. In the words of Joel Hayley Osmond ..." I see weird people .." Or, rather, they see me first.

There was the man on the tram last week who thought that I was a long-lost relative and repeatedly asked me questions about Cheryl (my mother, apparently) and told me that I should be good to her as she hadn't been well. He seemed like a nice enough old guy initially, although his tone changed distinctly the closer we got to St Kilda, when he started to tell me that I was a "good girl, yes, a very good little girl" and asked if he could buy me a cup of coffee. When I refused (politely, for Cheryl brought me up well) he stammered "you're very pretty" and hurried off the tram.

Then there was the charming woman sitting beside me with her two preschool daughters who spent a 20-minute tram trip repeatedly slapping them over the face because they were wiggling and disturbing her as she listened to the racing on her walkman.

Oh, and the new Greek arrival who came into the bar I work in last night with his girlfriend. He had a deformity on his hand - his thumb was shaped like a hoof with two tiny nails, one on each side of his split thumb. He couldn't speak much English, but managed to demonstrate with his hoofed hand that he wanted a milkshake ... by making an udder shape with one hand and "milking" it with the other. Then he pointed at his girlfriend's bosom, and said something in Greek to her, which she, bored and disinterested in his performance, nevertheless translated as "if you have no milkshakes, he would like to drink you through a straw".

A very drunk Aussie Rules spectator on the tram on Saturday afternoon spotted a guy on a Vespa cruising alongside the number 11 and observed to anybody who would listen that, rather than some pissy scooter, "what a REAL man wants is twelve-hundred CC's under his nuts". Spoken so well by a man riding a Very Manly and Powerful .... er ... tram.

Finally, Lou and Mac and I were out on Saturday night and trying to hail a cab to take us home to our beds. We weren't having a lot of luck .. a cab had just seen us and driven straight past ... when a scabby looking white vehicle pulled up alongside us. A young guy leaned over and said "You're not by chance looking for a taxi are you?". "Yes" we chorused. "Hop in" said Boy Racer. "You're not a taxi" I observed. "No, but I'll take you home for 10 bucks" said BR. Lou and I turned away doubtfully, dutifully remembering the good advice our parents had given us about NOT, under any circumstances, accepting lifts with strangers. But when Mac bargained the guy down to $8 we swiftly changed our minds. All the way home I was braced and at the ready. If this guy (his name was Ramsey, incidentally) was going to initiate a frenzied knife attack on poor Mac seated next to him, I needed to be ready to leap out at a moment's notice and run for my life. Never mind my friends. Lou is tall and can be very scary at times, and those of you who know Mac will remember how attached (both figuratively and literally) he is to his trusty Gerber. That's a type of pocket-knife, by the way, not some kind of rodent or something you'd buy at the florest ("gerbil" and "gerbera" respectively ... here endeth the lesson)

As it turned out, Ramsey was not only as thick as two short planks, but very weedy. Even if he WAS looking for a blood bath, rather than some gas money so that he could spend the remainder of his weekend doing burnouts, I am certain I could have pulled out one of my basic self-defence moves (hand-under-the-chin or ballerina-kick-in-the-balls) and saved the day. Ramsey was, luckily, incapable of any sort of violence. I don't even know if he would know how to spell the word. Needless to say, he gave me his mobile number and assured us that if we ever needed a personal driver, he was our man. Lovely. "I'll just get Ramsey to bring round the .... erm ... Cortina" just doesn't have quite the ring one envisages when one speaks of one's "driver".

Anyway, dear friends, I have emerged from the last few weeks relatively unharmed by the antics of aforementioned nutters. Am working lots and enjoying life immensely. Off to stay with an old friend Rebekah at her "community" in Colac this weekend. Don't have so much time for emailing but am squeezing in the odd missive where possible. Please let me know if you'd rather not receive my ramblings ...

Ok ... will be in touch again soon. Hope y'all are well. Much love, xF

Comments