I’m a “left-handed person” and I am not ashamed. Did you know there’s only one job that left-handed people can’t do? It’s, surprisingly, key cutting. Key cutting machinery is designed so only right-handed people can use it. I don’t know how that works, and I suppose I’ll never know.
When I first saw a job ad for a key cutter, at Mr Minit no less, I was astounded by the “must be right handed” disclaimer. Was that even legal? Apparently yes, because it was a safety thing. But I’ll tell you this. I had never ever wanted to be a key cutter, who would? But suddenly, after reading that ad, I wanted to be one more than anything in the world.
I would walk past Mr Minit and sigh, like a woman sighing because she wants to be a biochemist but she has to go and breed for the empire. Or an African-American slave who just wanted to be a clothes line designer, that’s all! But the sign that said “Clothes line designer wanted” also said “No coloureds (or Irish)”. Now it was my turn!
But what could I do, re-design the machine? The whole booth? Couldn’t that just mean then right-handed people couldn’t use it and I’d be as guilty as them? So I let it go. Like many weak, pathetic individuals in history who could have stood up and made a change in this world, I just shrugged and said “well I guess that’s just the way it is”. That’s how they win!
History is not going to remember me, and rightly so. I could have been the Rosa Parks of lefties, or the what’s that name of that suffragette who threw herself under a race course? Well I could have been her. But I’m not.
Don’t start me on ticket barricades at train stations. Don’t start me.
People like to present the best possible version of themselves in the online world. This is understandable, you don’t want to step outside in your undies, why should you show your personaility’s equivalent of your gut hanging out?
FEET SWAP USA
I had never heard of Feet Swap USA until Mrs. Funberries called me with the proposition. This came as a surprise because I’d never been on Australian television, let alone American, but here it was, an offer to fly across the Pacific and appear on a moderately-rating reality show.
"I LOVE WINTER" - NO. NO YOU DON’T.
"I hate summer, I prefer winter. Ooh I love winter."
No you don’t. Nobody loves winter.
"I do. I love sitting by the fire, snuggling up on the lounge…"
That’s not winter. That’s avoiding winter. Winter is being very, very cold. What you are trying to recreate in your loungeroom is - summer. Hot things; making yourself hot. You love being hot.
That’d be like me saying “I love being dry! Yeah there’s nothing like being dry. That’s why I have a bath! Because then I can dry myself and escape being wet! Having a bath and drying myself, there’s no better way to keep dry.”
"I love being hungry. I love it. Because then I can eat a lot. I can eat so much when I’m hungry. I love being hungry, because then I can escape being hungry".
"I love someone trying to stab me, because then I can put some armour on so the knife doesn’t go in me and I’m perfectly safe. Love it when someone tries to stab me."
That’s probably enough examples.
THE HUBCAP SKETCH
(Scene: Side of highway. MAN is carrying a hubcap and approaches HUBBO).
Man: Hey mate! You’ve lost a hubcap!
Hubbo: More like you’ve found a hubcap!
MICKEY THE MARBLE IV by Shane Matheson (Age 39)
Mickey surveyed the room as the old woman took her feet off the floor and placed them on a foot stool.
It was tough being stuck in the sole of a shoe for ten years. But for Mickey, a small black marble with anger management issues, it was a welcome rest from the killing.
MICKEY THE MARBLE III by Shane Matheson (Age 29)
It was an overcast morning when Mickey drew the curtains of his little house.
For the past ten years, Mickey had brooded in his house. He had killed all his fellow marbles in a rage and retreated there. It was in his little house that he began to formulate his grand plan. He would kill George Hashman.
MICKEY THE MARBLE II by Shane Matheson (Age 19)
Mickey rolled out of his house. It had been ten years since he moved in. Life was pretty good, being a marble in Western Australia. He rolled up a nearby hill and pondered on life. Suddenly, a kid came up and scooped the whole town into his marble bag.
“Flip!” exclaimed Mickey, and began rolling after the fiend.