I went on a conference junket a mounting number of moons ago. The conference was in upstate New York. To get there, I had to fly flirstly to UHLEH.
I did keep on going on arrival, but I hung around on the trip back for a spell. After all, I was in UHLEH.
I said to more than one person later, UHLEH has a toxic as shit vibe. They said, more than once, I concur.
Poor old UHLEH.
While I was in UHLEH, I saw Agent Orange play at the Whiskey. I went to the tar pit museum. I ate a caesar salad opposite the bronze statue of Lemmy at Rainbow Bar and Grill. I read a biography of Iggy Pop I got from the Brooklyn Art Gallery, while being served by legitimately the most welcoming and unassuming barstaff I met in all of UHLEH. I flashed my Medicare card at surgery staff at a medical clinic in North Hollywood (EEK RUN RUN FOR YOUR LIVES NO I MADE MY APPOINTMENT) and made various noises about heinous evil socialism. I got a killer Creature t-shirt from the skateshop on Venice Beach at completely not an Australian price. I took Uber drivers through In-N-Out Burger more than once because it was the best. They were stoked and I was on vacation.
It was all happening in UHLELH.
While I was in UHLEH, I landed at one point in a bar again in North Hollywood. I remember it mostly for the vibe, which seemed alright. Everyone in the bar was dressed upmarket; I was honestly wont to suspect it was reserved with those with the means and desire to conform to such norms, but I dug it all the same.
The place was big, filled fill of people, and it was light. It had a bit of the Spanish adobe style going on maybe. I like to remember it did anyway, the colonial architecture is one thing I dig a bit about UHLEH. The Spanish made great buildings even if collectively they were souless usurpers.
It had a big stage out the back. It’s the weirdest thing, sometimes I like to imagine myself on that stage, doing live standup. I would say:
I’m from the land of the great social engineering experiment, where they took the leftovers from the process of brewing beer, and forced children to eat it for breakfast so they could make more money. That is legitimately how it came to pass that the greatest cultural gift of Australia to the world is also the world’s favourite. At least English Marmite doesn’t taste like old boot concentrate. Vegemite is like the goose-step; it’s supposed to taste like shit. It gets Australians accustomed to our style of government. You eat Vegemite, peasants, you might as well take Australian politics seriously. Or you’ll just adjust the same way you learn to resign yourself to anchovies instead of going to all the trouble of picking them out. Simply resign yourselves to our misrule the same way.
You’re a wonderful audience, thank you. You know, Australia is a land of contradictions. When you’re actually in Australia you have to be careful, because it’s well-understood that if someone actually likes you, they’ll call you a cunt. ‘Hey you’re a good cunt!’ If they’re calling you mate, though, you have to be careful you haven’t done something wrong and they’re upset. It makes about as much sense as many other facets of Australian culture.
On that note, what’s the difference between an Australian and a tub of yoghurt? The tub of yoghurt has a culture.
We have culture. We have old boot concentrate made from beer leftovers.
I have to say though, when I first got off the boat I called a lot of people ‘mate,’ because that’s how you talk to people. That’s how I talk to people. I realised quickly that it was rubbing people up the wrong way, men and woman alike. Women take it as ‘I’ve just taken it on myself to assume we’re eloping.’ If this is how Australian men do foreplay as well I’m going to Europe next year. Men take it as about the same, which is even more awkward. It honestly never struck me until I arrived in UHLEH that a common colloquialism could be interpreted as, uh, homoerotic.
[Extended pause on stage with whatever mannerisms make it clear you’re very aware of being in front of a room full of people at this point]
Folks, have you ever had a dream where you’re butt naked in front of a room full of people, and you have no idea how the living fuck you even got there?
Hopefully someone would get a chuckle out of my shit at some point. That would be fun to try.
