Stockholm Syndrome

A few nights ago there was a frantic knocking at my door. I ignored it for awhile but eventually I was distracted enough to pause my iview stream and answer it. A young American girl stood on my doorstep. Rather nervously, she told me that she was on her way to meet a friend for a house interview, but there was a woman standing on the corner screaming, so she felt reticent about crossing the road. I stepped out onto the porch.
"So there is." I observed.
There was an awkward moment of silence, before the young American girl said:
"I feel like I should call for help or something. Do you think she's alright?"
"No - I think she's alright." I said. "I'll re-evaluate if she stops screaming."
The young American girl and I stood and stared at one another for a few seconds, then she said:
"Do you mind if I stay on your porch until she goes?"
"Oh I'm so sorry!" I said, " Do you want to come in? Please, feel free to hang around here for a bit. It's much warmer inside."
She thanked me and stepped inside, to witness me scraping piles of unfurled newspapers from the sofa to make way for her. She sat on the very edge of the seat and began dialling madly on her mobile.
"So are you moving to the area because you're studying at LaTrobe?" I asked.
"Yes." she replied.
"Oh that's great, how exciting." I said. "And you're going for a room in a house right now?"
"Yes." she replied, still dialling. "I'm supposed to meet my friend, but she's not answering."
She looked up at me.
"Is this a safe area?" she asked.
"Absolutely." I replied, "Ok, so once in a while there's a crazy domestic like out there right now, but mostly it's just retirees and young families, and usually it's really quiet. I've spent the last 20 years living in the inner city, and I've got to say that I feel safer walking around here at night than I ever did back there."
I admit that I felt a little smug at this point, like a great ambassador of the 'Voir, spreading The Word.
There was a momentary pause, and then I realised I was wearing mini-uggs and tracky dacks, and she was sitting in between piles of my old newspapers. Faint screams were still audible in the distance.
She left.
I don't know if she got the house or not. I'll keep an eye out for her.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words # 2

What I found in my garden:

Someone sure tore into those packets urgently.
I'm betting one of my neighbours has a shorter
garden hose now.

Return of The Fumigator

A couple of nights ago in a Reservoir supermarket a shoeless individual entered holding an aerosol can of deodorant. He approached a cashier and proclaimed:
"I bought this deodorant here!", then held it up to her face preparing to discharge it into her eyes. She ducked, as did all the other cashiers, like dominoes, behind her. 
He then moved to the service desk and walked back and forth spraying the deodorant across the counter, then left, aerosol still in hand.
My witness was unable to confirm whether or not the perpetrator was wearing a Reservoir Hogs T-shirt. Apparently the store smelled quite pleasant for a while afterwards though.


"This car is not like others. This car is a 6 cylinder in very very good conditions, and I cant describe it because you dont going to belive it, so... please come and see for you self or call me if you have any questions Thank you. 

Sounds too good to be true. I'm betting conditions apply.

Adding Insult to Injury

Link: Melbourne siege ends with $15m drug haul

Police raided properties in Reservoir, Brunswick, Maribyrnong, Glenferrie and St Leonards this morning.
Detective Superintendent Doug Fryer said the raids uncovered one of the most sophisticated drug labs officers had seen in 10 years.

Just in case you're wondering: no, the "sophisticated" lab wasn't the one they found in Reservoir. 

Last Resort

I can see why the locals rejected this so violently. Trying to sell lifestyle to Reservoirians is like trying to sell an awesome moustache to Boonie.

A World Without Order

At the supermarket tonight I handed my cloth bag to the checkout chick and told her it would be fine to put everything in there together. She seemed pretty distressed by the prospect of all my loose, unlike items colliding recklessly with each other. 
I watched with amusement as she took handfuls of plastic bags and lovingly wadded them between all the items in the cloth bag to buffer them. 
I can't stop thinking about how that poor girl must wonder why people buy cloth bags. I kind of hope she feels sorry for us.