The Internet is a Playground Read online

  Tampons

  My son’s birthday is next week. When he was seven, I told him to draw pictures of what he wanted for his birthday as a visual list. When I inquired as to one image (which I first took to be a box of colored crayons), I deciphered his explanations as it being tampons. In particular, the multicolored brand. His only references to the product were the adverts featuring a girl jumping out of a window onto a tree, which lowered her into a BMW convertible full of friends; an electric green street racing car with black flames; and the ability to do a single-handed handstand star-jump on a dance machine to crowd applause. I bought him a box and figured he would work it out. Yesterday I asked him what he wants for his birthday, and he replied, “not tampons.”

  Riddick

  While watching the movie The Chronicles of Riddick with me last night, my offspring stated that he wished Riddick were his dad. When I asked why, he replied that Riddick is good looking, has muscles, and is a good fighter. I told him that I wished Matthew (his archenemy at school) were my son because he is better at math and has cool hair.

  Girls That Have Said No, Part 1

  While working at a horse-riding camp several years ago, I spent a good twenty minutes explaining to a group, which consisted of twelve children and their young teacher, the importance of horse safety before walking behind a horse and being kicked in the head. I recall only walking in a zigzag back to the house with the muffled sounds of children screaming in the background before collapsing and waking up in the hospital. While I was there, with a fractured skull, the teacher brought me in a “Get well soon” card signed by all the children, so I asked her out. But she said no.

  Superconductors

  If you take the temperature of a superconductor down to absolute zero (around -273.1 degrees Celsius), it ignores gravity and floats. This is a scientific fact, and you are welcome to check—google or YouTube it. My nine-year-old son asked why we couldn’t freeze a car to -273 degrees and fly in it, and I told him that the car would neutralize gravity, not reverse it, and the weight of the people in it would make it sink. Also, heat rises, so -273 degrees should really sink unless it is in a vacuum, which means we wouldn’t be able to breathe or hear the stereo. You would also need to bundle up well.

  Girls That Have Said No, Part 2

  Around the time I was twelve, my sister had really hot friends staying over. I would dress in ninja gear, wriggle “Saving Private Ryan, beach commando”- style into her bedroom, and listen to their conversations. Some were educational; most were inane. A few months ago, I was standing in a CD store and a girl came up to me and said, “Are you David?” to which I replied, “It depends” (and immediately regretted because I knew that if she asked me, “Depends on what?” I had nothing). The fear must have shown, because she asked, “Depends on what?” and I replied, like a retard, “On whether it is on or off the record—I have been misquoted by you people before.” And she looked at me as if I was a retard before telling me that she had been a friend of my sister’s and remembered me, and then actually asked, “Are you still annoying?” So I asked her if she still “squeezed her nipples while thinking about kissing Michael Wilson.” After a pretty long pause I asked her out. But she said no.

  Anhus Street

  A street I drive past every day is named Anhus Street and is very distracting. Every few weeks, someone (I am assuming a kid) spray-paints out the “h,” making it read “anus,” and then a few days later, someone (I am assuming a local elderly resident) paints the “h” back in. If I were boss of the world I would legally change that street name to Anus Street to annoy both of them.

  Girls That Have Said No, Part 3

  At the local swimming pool canteen, not realizing until afterward that my penis was caught in the elastic of my swimming shorts with the tip sticking out, I purchased a packet of Twisties and a can of Coke before asking out the girl who served me, but she said no.

  Parking Spot

  A few weeks ago, some guy in a shitty BMW parked in my reserved-and-paid-for parking spot in a small lot. I printed out an A4 (Helvetica Demi Bold 12 pt.) note stating that this was a paid-for parking spot, and not to park there again. A couple of days later he parked there again. I printed out an A3 (Helvetica Black 42 pt.) sign stating “Reserved Parking—Do Not Park Here,” and I used spray adhesive (3M®) to mount it on the wall in front of my spot. When I went to park in my spot the next day, he had written in, after “Reserved Parking,” the words “For Wankers.” About three days later I saw his car parked on the street, so I printed out a poster in A2 (Helvetica Black 92 pt., reversed) with the word “Fuckhead” and applied it with spray adhesive to his windshield, ensuring (as per instructions) I sprayed both materials to be bonded. The disadvantage, of course, is that I am too scared to park in my spot; but he is also too scared to park there, so I will class this as a draw for the moment and find a new spot.

  Dreams

  I hate it when people tell me, “I had a weird dream last night . . .” I don’t care, it didn’t really happen, and it is going to be boring. Just because you dreamed it doesn’t make it interesting to anyone. I knew someone who told me a dream, and it went on for about twenty minutes. That is nineteen minutes and sixty seconds longer than I have to care about something that didn’t really happen. Another time she was telling me about a dream her auntie had, so not only was I listening to something that didn’t really happen; I was listening to something that didn’t really happen to someone I didn’t even know. I glass over and my mind wanders after hearing the words “I had a weird dream last night,” so it is just a waste of everyone’s time. The statement she made, “If you cared about me you would be interested in my dreams,” I will put down to the fact that she was an idiot and possibly slightly crazy because she owned more than two cats.

  My Confession

  When I was in year ten, I would wag school to catch the bus into the city. I would hide the contents of my schoolbag and go to a Christian bookstore called the Open Book, covering two levels and a secondhand section in the basement. I would go in with my empty bag, select expensive theological volumes, and fill my bag with several hundred dollars’ worth. I would then use the toilets to remove any price tags before going downstairs to the basement, where they would buy my books for half the retail price. I did this twice a week. I figured that if they caught me I would cry and ask for their forgiveness, and as Christians, they would have let me go; but they never caught on. I remember one person buying the entire Amy Grant tape collection, when it had been on the shelves not ten minutes before. I was saving for a motorbike and bought a Suzuki Katana. The Open Book went broke a year later, so it worked out well for everyone.

  Girls That Have Said No, Part 4

  Around the corner from my place is a 24-hour petrol station thing where I buy what little products I require that don’t come in a can (milk) or feed my car. A girl started working there and I thought she was really nice, but she would serve me and not speak or make eye contact. So I asked her if she had a “carfor,” and she asked me, “What’s a carfor?” to which I replied, “Driving around in when I am not paying ninety-two dollars to feed it,” and she laughed in a very strange manner and went back to what looked like counting in binary in her head. After some small talk (which, in hindsight, she may have taken as admonishing her on the poor choice of videos they sold), I asked her out, but she said no.

  Toys“R”Us

  Having spent over an hour walking through Toys“R”Us considering gift options for my eight-year-old offspring, here is a brief list of things I would buy and play with myself if they came in adult sizes:Ninja costume

  Star Wars® Stormtrooper® costume

  Remote controlled AeroHawk® twin-blade helicopter

  Blue Power Ranger® costume

  Blow-up wading pool with palm tree and slippery dip

  Electronic dance mat for PlayStation®

  Pink Power Ranger® costume

  Girls That Have Said No, Part 5

  A lady (age o
ne hundred and ninety) in front of me at the counter at Myers yelled, “My purse!” then looked at me and proclaimed, “You took my purse.” So I said, “Yes, I took your purse. I collect them.” And she started yelling at me and the department manager came over, and I had to explain that I was not admitting to the theft, I was being sarcastic. Her purse ended up in one of the many bags she was carrying, but she continued to glare at me without so much as an apology. When the girl served me, she apologized, and I asked her, “Why, did you arrange for someone to act like an old crazy woman for me?” and she laughed and said that I was funny, so I asked her out. But she said no.

  eBay

  I bought a real dinosaur’s tooth fossil recently, with an invoice and a note of authenticity, because it is something I have always wanted. There is a quarry a short drive away that my nine-year-old son and I go to and explore sometimes. When we went there last, I suggested we dig for fossils and miraculously “found” the dinosaur tooth (thinking it would be a big deal to him), but he stated, “No, it’s just a rock.” When I swore I was positive that it was a Saurischian tooth from the Mesozoic era, he replied that I had “made that up” and for me to “throw it away.” I cannot prove to him that it is a real dinosaur tooth without divulging the invoice, and he is never seeing that, since I would have to explain why I didn’t buy a PlayStation 3 instead of a 70-million-year-old fossil. Occasionally he picks it up and gives me a disdaining look. Also, I bought some NASA mission badges a while back off eBay. He asked me if they had been in space, and I had to admit that they hadn’t, and he stated, “Well, that’s just weak, then.”

  Spider-Man 3

  I can get over the escaped convict falling into an open air particle accelerator (we have one in the vacant lot next door, and I am always telling my eight-year-old to stop playing near it); I can even get by the space slime landing coincidently meters from Peter and jumping on his bike. . . . What I can’t get past is Mary Jane. What a bitch. In the first movie she lets the school bully do her, then she lets the rich guy, then Peter has a turn. In the second movie, she goes through about eighteen different guys before abandoning her big expensive wedding after realizing Peter is Spider-Man. In the third film I think she does about sixty guys and whines a lot about Peter saving lives instead of coming to the theater to watch her crap acting. Why does he put up with her? It makes no sense and is the one glaring discrepancy in an otherwise completely scientifically believable movie.

  Wave Patterns

  If a rocket was projected as a wave pattern, setting up harmonics such that they reconstitute the original relationship at another point of space/time, any variations could be sorted by a “key” included to ensure the reconstruction was identical. If so, a flight to our nearest star, Alpha Centauri, being only four and a half light years away, would effectively take only 4.5 years to reach. Harmonic travel is impossible, and I am making it up as I go along; but if we did land on new planets, I would hope that there were sexy girl aliens.

  “Ribbons” by Sisters of Mercy

  Andrew Eldritch used to be too cool for school. I grew my hair for four years to look like him before someone told me I looked ridiculous, more like Edward Scissorhands than him. I first heard the song “Ribbons” almost twenty years ago while doing 160 km/h in a stolen Mercedes down a dark highway on a dark and rainy night. Which would be very cool if it were true, but it was actually while riding a horse and listening to a Walkman on a sunny day. Which is very not cool. I worked at a horse-riding school and had to get up at 5 a.m. every morning, break the ice on top of the horses’ water troughs, and feed and groom the horses. Since the riding school catered to school camps, every day I would ride the lead horse on a set path through creeks and hills with five to ten “follower horses” carrying school kids. To make sure the follower horses did nothing but follow, each was fed a blue pill every morning. No matter what the kids did—kick, hit, fall off—the horse would just follow. Because the job was so repetitive, I used to lick the blue pills before giving them to the horses. Apparently, I worked there for more than a year, but I don’t remember any of it.

  PERMISSION SLIP

  Dear Parent/Guardian of Seb Thorne

  On Monday the 22nd of March, classes from year 5 and 6 will be attending a presentation held outside of school grounds at the Mary Richardson Memorial Hall. During the presentation, the true meaning of Easter will be explained in an entertaining and fun filled play performed by members of the Grange Uniting Church youth drama group. Students must have a signed permission slip prior to departure. If you give your child permission to attend this presentation, please sign and return to the school with your child. If you have any questions about the presentation, please call me on or send me an email to darry

  Darryl Robinson School Chaplain

  ☑ I give my child permission

  ☐ I do not give my child permission to attend the Mary Richardson Memorial Hall on 22.3.2010 for a class presentation.

  Parent / Guardian signature

  Darryl the kind of friend Jesus would have

  While preaching is not allowed in Australian public schools, it is apparently fine to replace school counselors with “Christian volunteers,” such as Darryl. A few years ago, the government realized that they could hand over school counseling roles to a willing Christian church without having to pay for the privilege. Now, almost half of Australian public schools have a Christian volunteer as a full-time member of the school community, with parents having no direct control of how much their children are exposed to.

  Although usually an advocate of people being entitled to their opinions, sexual preferences, and beliefs, I seem to have developed some form of mental glitch that makes me want to punch Darryl’s fat head.

  From: David Thorne

  Date: Wednesday 10 March 2010 7:12 p.m.

  To: Darryl Robinson

  Subject: Permission Slip

  Dear Darryl,

  I have received your permission slip featuring what I can only assume is a levitating rabbit about to drop an egg on Jesus.

  Thank you for pre-ticking the permission box, because this has saved me not only from having to make a choice but also from having to make my own forty-five-degree downward stroke followed by a 20 percent longer forty-five-degree upward stroke. Without your guidance, I may have mistakenly drawn a picture of a cactus wearing a hat.

  As I trust my offspring’s ability to separate fact from fantasy, I am happy for him to participate in your indoctrination process, on the proviso that all references to “Jesus” are replaced with the term “Purportedly Magic Jew.”

  Regards, David

  From: Darryl Robinson

  Date: Thursday 11 March 2010 9:18 a.m.

  To: David Thorne

  Subject: Re: Permission Slip

  Hello David

  The tick in the box already was a mistake I noticed after printing them all. I’ve seen the play and it’s not indoctrinating anyone. It’s a fun play performed by a great bunch of kids. You do not have to be religious to enjoy it. You are welcome to attend if you have any concerns.

  Darryl Robinson, School Chaplain

  From: David Thorne

  Date: Thursday 11 March 2010 11:02 a.m.

  To: Darryl Robinson

  Subject: Re: Re: Permission Slip

  Dear Darryl,

  Thank you for the kind offer. Being unable to think of anything more exciting than attending your entertaining and fun-filled afternoon, I tried harder and thought of about four hundred things.

  I was actually in a Bible-based play once and played the role of “Annoyed about having to do this.” My scene involved offering a pot plant (since nobody knew what myrrh was) to a plastic baby Jesus, then standing between “I forgot my costume, so am wearing the teacher’s poncho” and “I don’t feel very well.” Highlights of the play included a nervous donkey with diarrhea, causing “I don’t feel very well” to vomit onto the back of Mary’s head; and the lighting system, designed to provide a halo effect aro
und the manger, overheating and setting it alight. The teacher, later criticized for dousing an electrical fire with a bucket of water and endangering the lives of children, left the building in tears and the audience in silence. We saw her again only briefly when she came to the school to collect her poncho.

  Also, your inference that I am without religion is incorrect, and I am actually torn between two faiths; while your god’s promise of eternal life is very persuasive, the Papua New Guinean mud god, Pikkiwoki, is promising a pig and as many coconuts as you can carry.

  Regards, David

  From: Darryl Robinson

  Date: Thursday 11 March 2010 2:52 p.m.

  To: David Thorne

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: Permission Slip

  Hello David

  It would be a pity for Seb to miss out on the important message of hope that the story of the resurrection gives, but if you don’t want him to attend the presentation on Monday then just tick the other box.