How do you spell that?

“Here’s a shout out to all those kids who never found their name on anything at a souvenir store”

I ran to where the Key-ring Koala was. On a shelf barely within my reach, I was exuberant to see my first initial stitched in yellow and green on its round belly. On determined tippy toes I reached up to the metal loop at the back of the Koala’s neck and managed to tug it off the adult sized display. It spiralled down towards me.  A little white tag slightly protruding from its bottom rotated into sight as it landed softly with a bounce into my embracing palms. Half the tag was caught on a metal link holding the loop, causing my Koala’s neck to bend backwards awkwardly. I freed my new friend from his contortion and the white tag opened slowly into its proper length.

‘Do not machine wash. Not suitable for children under 3 years. Australian owned.’

‘Made in China’

Like the opening of a bad fortune cookie message, revealed in a deliciously, sweet treat was that bitter message (and if you’re Chinese, like me, you have to take fortune cookies seriously!).

“If you find something with your name on it, we’ll buy it for you”, my parents said outside the souvenir shop before I had run in.  The promise of an Australian icon with my non-Chinese-but-still-unusually-rare-for-an-English name on it would surely solidify my identity as an Aussie rather than a kid whose parents picked an overly unique name for him to compensate for his obvious lack of Anglo-Saxonism.

But there that little white tag was; my little white flag of surrender, reminding me of that I will never be able to find something with my name on it in a souvenir store.

Reluctantly I took my Koala to my parents as Vegemite injected, rosy-cheeked, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Johns, Davids and Jennifers brought their t-shirts with their easy-to-find names and Australian flags on them to their own parents.

I’m reminded of their overjoyed faces whenever I meet an immigrant who decided, for either themselves or their children, to give them a name pretty close to Apple, or Sunday(Yes I’ve seen these names.) How they miscalculate the catastrophe of their error. They too will be reminded with each ill-omened fortune cookie, with each Koala that was never theirs to befriend, with each ‘Made in China’, that there will be no solace in a souvenir shop.

And then we have this unwitting fool who will gladly toss all opportunity to a collection of personally named souvenir and memorabilia. Imagine all the (what’s Scotland’s national animal?… who cares, imagine all the kilts! And bagpipes!)



Why play so hard to get?

“Your call is very important to us. Please enjoy this 40 minute piano solo”

Every time I make a call to a big time company I’ve never been put straight through to an actual person. No doubt you’ve had this problem. The typical phone call usually goes something like this:

*note: this may be somewhat slightly exaggerated.

Thank you for calling_________.

This call may be recorded for training or monitoring purposes

Please use your keypad so we can put you through to the correct operator

Press “1” for general enquiries

Press “2” for business enquiries

Press “3” for technical support

Press “4” If you wish to hear the selections again

***next part**

Please state your reason for calling

“My internet cannot connect”

You said “My fishnet is in effect.” Is this correct?

“No! My internet cannot connect”

You said “Yo my cigarette cannot erect.” Is this correct?

“No! My internet cannot connect”

Please hold while we put you through to an operator. Your call is very important to us.

**cue awesome piano solo**

I can’t be the only person who experiences the constant frustrations of getting through to a phone operator. Despite having to listen to the amazing pieces played by a failed pianist whose expertise landed them a place in automated phone attendant symphony, is it really worth the wait for a possible 3 minute conversation?

You tell me that my call is important to you, but you have me wait forever just to speak to you. Don’t you know actions speak louder than words?! Maybe I shouldn’t be this upset. Maybe I’m just lonely and desperate for human interaction…

What about the poor pianist who can’t have anyone appreciate their music? They have their music out there and yet people have developed an aversion to it. No wonder they get sucked into this never-ending loop of “playable music that everyone hates.”

Hey at least I can find happiness in the fact that I wasn’t this guy–>



CityRail must swing both ways

“CityRail ticket machines are so homophobic. I’m sorry my $10 note isn’t straight enough for you.”

There will eventually come a day when robots take over the world. But I refuse for today to be that day. Who ever thought that machines would take over the world with their fussiness? I had always envisioned it to be something similar to the film I,Robot in which anthropomorphic robots turn rogue in a dystopian society and obviously I would play the role of agent Spooner.

Unfortunately that is in another time, place and universe.

Since when do machines have the right to deny money, especially with CityRail and their whole re-branding to “Sydney Trains?” I want to use my money to purchase a train ticket and you won’t accept it because it’s too crumbled up!? But what about the day before when you were so eager and happy to take my money. Have your feelings changed?

Whatever happened to this so-called Opal card, I mean they’ve been talking about it for the last 2 years. Yes, the Opal Card is working at the moment-for those travelling on the city circle! I’ve never actually seen anybody use an Opal card before and who actually would since then you can pretty much walk to those train stations around the city.

For those who don’t know, CityRail is in the middle of re-branding at the moment and I guess it’s because they eventually became sick and tired of all those “Shitty-rail” jokes (refer to reasons here I mean there’s really no puns you can actually use for “Sydney Trains” to reflect its poor transportation system anyway.  Nonetheless, if there was a perfect time, place and reason to call CityRail gay, it probably would’ve been today.

IF CITYRAIL TICKET MACHINES COULD JUST ACCEPT MY CRUMPLED UP NOTE THAT'D BE GREAT | Generated image from memes,that would be great generated with the Imgflip Meme Generator


Car Park Mirages

Handicapped spots just want to be treated like regular parking spots.

So I went to my local shopping centre today and expected an abundant of parking spots. Why today? Well it was a Monday afternoon, and all the parents would be picking up their children from school. You can now see how my thought process which lead me to a belief that there would be parking spots waiting for me.

Well what do you know, here I was driving in and out of the car park. Driving past the same car numerous times, I believed I was going around in circles. There was not a single available parking spot. But in the distance, could it really be? No it couldn’t. It was probably one of those silly smart cars.

My curiosity got the best of me. I drove over there gingerly with no expectations.

There you have it.

It was a handicapped spot. The infamous mirages of car-parks.