My Flying Amphibious Car

An edited and expanded version of my Facebook status update, from this day, in 2014.

Writing is like travelling in your very own flying, amphibious car, you can go anywhere.

It’s excitement plus here in Campbelltown, I just activated my Opal Card. I might even go on a public transport mystery tour but then again, I could just be the envy of all my friends, as usual, by spending the weekend studying weeds. While they’re out dirt bike riding or hang gliding I’m here studying Ricinus communis, the most toxic plant known to humankind. Beat that, if you dare!

Alas, one of my rivals just trounced my hardcore spirit of adventure. They’re Googling Nepenthes attenboroughii, the Giant Pitcher Plant, which is even more lethal than Ricinus communis. It has been known to catch and kill rats.

Not even the notorious Orphan School Creek has Nepenthes lurking in amongst the junkies needles. What do you mean you’ve never heard of Orphan School Creek? You know of the Amazon, The Nile, and the Colorado River, yet you’ve never heard of this waterfront wonderland, nestled in among the most prestigious estates in Canley Vale and Carramar?

Nepenthes attenboroughi, possibly the only diabolical invasive species never to haunt the most picturesque weed choked storm water creek on the planet, kills rats by dissolving them in an acidic cocktail. The less deadly Ricinus communis is unsurprisingly a good source of ricin, a poison with a malevolent reputation. It conjures up images of the ricin tipped umbrella used as a stealth weapon, by an agent of the Bulgarian secret police, to murder dissident writer Georgi Markhov. 

This status update/article, has turned into a slice of horror history. Anyone who said writing isn’t fun should be dipped head first into the world’s largest specimen of Nepenthes attenboroughi. Either that or they should be sentenced to 10 hours of Juncus acutis deseeding, in the Brick Pit, at Sydney Olympic Park. Which is worse, you decide.

The thread of logic in this article might be fraying fast but I think I’ve proved the idea that writing is like travelling in your very own flying amphibious car. You can go anywhere you like. There is no limit to the parties you can crash. 

 

Appendix

The Brick Pit, at Sydney Olympic Park, began life as a clay mine, which used to produce two thirds of the red bricks found in old Sydney houses. It was also the site for Bartertown scenes in Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. This hole is now one of the last refuges in the Sydney Basin for the Green and Gold Bell Frog. The soil down there is not a great deal more fertile than moondust but the place is looking less like a desert than it once did, thanks to unrelenting efforts to transform it into a haven for birds, lizards and frogs. 

 

 

The Goldfish Incident

“Sorry I’m late Jill, My Navman
was drunk on cosmic radiation.
Trying to hear street names
amidst all that slurring
was like spotting soap suds in an angry sea.”

“You can’t be serious Dwite!
Have you never heard of a street directory?
There’s also those things called road signs
and haven’t you been here fifteen times?
You slept in didn’t you.” Jill asked as accusingly
as if she suspected him of molesting her dog
and tying up her ferret and making it watch.
If she’d installed security cameras,
she’d have realized the truth was far stranger.
Returning now, to Jill’s passion for punctuality.

“You, you slept in didn’t you!”
“Jill, the truth sounds less plausible
than being spied on by an Amish satellite”

“And what you’ve already told me doesn’t?”

“You wouldn’t understand Jill, you’re not ready!”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s radiator trouble.”

“If it’s just car trouble
why didn’t you tell me to begin with?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I’m not your mechanic,
I don’t need to know the details.”

“I’m more in need of a psychologist
than a mechanic.”

“Well that much is clear.”

“To be precise, I need a grief counsellor.”

“I’m confused,
what does that have to do with car trouble.”

“Everything!
I think you better sit down before I tell you.
Quark the Carp, a miniaturized fish,
who lives in my radiator, has died.”

“Bullshit, even you would know to use a fish tank.”

“But Quark could tolerate extreme temperatures.”

“Even if that’s true, isn’t a radiator
a dark and cramped place for a fish?”

Dwite gazed at Jill
As though she was the most stupid person
he’d ever had a conversation with
since he’d broken into the spider monkey enclosure
at Taronga Zoo.

“Haven’t you heard of the flair
carps have for telepathy?
Quark the Carp sent me mind beams,
to let me know when to top up my radiator.
He couldn’t afford to let it evaporate.
He lived long enough for me to grow very attached,
we became lovers Jill.
It was purely a spiritual connection,
what 80’s pop star Phil Collins
might call a Groovy Kind of Love.
I feel so guilty.
While my car was impounded on the weekend,
Quark was recycling his own urine,
until the concentration was lethal.
For years he’s saved my car from overheating
and I wasn’t there to purify his home.”

“Would you like the day off,
to organize a psychiatrist’s appointment?”

“Do you question the sanity
of everyone who has a death in the family Jill?”

“Take time off to give it a funeral then.”

“He’s not an It, his name is Quark.
Yes, I do have funeral arrangement to make.
Dwite produced a scale model of a hearse
and pulled a match box sized coffin from his coat pocket.
Happy April Fool’s Day Jill.”

“Dwite, you nearly had me there.
I’ll have to dock your pay,
for wasting work time with your crazy story.”

“Is that your April Fool’s Day joke Jill?”

“No, I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too Jill,
serious when I say it’s a public holiday.
April Fool’s Day again. April Fool’s Day 360
Quark the Carp exists, but he’s alive and well
I must go’ Hershel proclaimed,
more suddenly than a switch in Arctic weather.
“It’s time to sample the juices
of levitating Star Fish Masseusses.”

“Is that another April Fool’s Day Joke Dwite?”

“No, why would you think that?”

Quality Magnet International

I’m Erskine Jay Magoo,
a product reviewer for Quality Magnet International.
Nobody else turned up at the interview,
and wi would they
wen they wood have had to compete with sum one of my ilk.
I like to call myself a product anal list,
it’s a title worthy of my credentials.
My I.Q is about 98 I reckon,
that’s nearly a hundred per cent.
My vocab you airy is second to nun.
and I don’t need apes to correct my speling
and puncture ashen.
This looks like it’s ment to be a poem,
cos my pear riff a rule vision is playing up,
so I can’t make it two wide.
An I.Q of 98, that puts me rite up there with
Einstein, Newton, Da Vince Sea, Steven Hawk King
and Roberts. My mate Malcolm Roberts,
he showed those scienticians a thing or too
when he was in the senate.
Vegan, the guy who owns Quality Magnet International,
he even gives me free deodorant every day.
He said not to tell anyone he owns Mother Nature’s Aromas too.
That guy is too modest.
Today I’m reviewing the latest arrival
on the Tea Tree deodorant seen.
Vegan has given it a really random name, Leptospermum.
Is that sexy or what!
It reminds me of an island paradise covered in Palm Trees.
Vegan’s not one of those pigs and cows have feelings two types,
he’s a real man.
He’s even puts alcohol in his products.
Alcoholic role on deodorant will come in handy
in the no drinking section at the football.
Leptospermum aye, how’s that for originality.
That other Tea Tree deodorant brand, Thursday Plantation,
they’ll be shitting themselves now.