Sunday, October 26, 2008

You cant go wrong, come on skank along!

It's official, nobody in my flat physically talks to one another anymore except for Ellie and I. Nick will instant message me from five feet down the hall just to say 'hello,' or as he says, "Morning!" (no matter what time of day it is). And even worse than that is the dreaded note on the fridge. Instead of knocking on everyone's door around 7 pm when all are guaranteed to be present and awake to call a flat meeting, they write an incredibly rude open notice. Now, I don't mind if it's just something along the lines of, "Could whoever's turn it is to take out the trash this week please do so? Thanks!" Those are friendly reminders and make perfect sense. But last night someone put up a wonderful jem the censored version of which basically states that if the note writer ever finds out who keeps using up the ice and not refilling the tray, they will make icecubes from their blood. I haven't used a single ice cube my entire time here, but the anger of that note made me dump all the ice cubes down the sink and leave the trays empty in the freezer. Just because they went about trying to solve a stupidly easy problem that doesn't matter much anyway with violent fingerpointing. No need to call in Miss Marple or a hitman. It's like Dylan Moran said in his stand-up act, "You want to write a note back to those types of flatmates and say, 'Dear Complaining One, NOBODY LIKES YOU.'"

On a lighter subject where I'm not being a hypocrite by whining about how annoying passive-aggressive proclamations from my flatmates are, I managed to get out for once this weekend. I went with a friend to a place we'd gone to once before, but only for an hour. This time we got there at 9:30ish, stayed quite late and thus were able to see two bands play before the DJ set. To give an idea how this place is set up, they play indie and alternative rock upstairs, then downstairs is split between the main room (which has the live bands and then usually plays ska, punk, and some hardcore afterwards) and the incredibly fascinating pop/hip-hop room. I literally stood by the pool tables for half an hour with my one friend (who is also from a large American city) cracking up watching all these drunk Australian hipsters/punks/emos/whatevers trying to dance to things like 50 Cent and Lil Mama. He turned to me and said, "Wow, I feel like Ving Rhames compared to these kids!" Which is saying quite a lot considering the two of us are pretty darn white. I wish I had video of it, words can't describe the hilarity factor... Then we went and skanked in the other room (for those of you not aware, skanking isn't what it sounds like, it's the type of weird dancing you do when a ska song is playing), where at least we knew we looked silly when we danced.

These obviously aren't any of the people that I'm talking about, but it's the closest I could find, so I'll leave it up to you to decide who looked stupider:
Hipsters who think they're gangstas (just imagine whats going on in the video but on a greater scale and throw in some punk/emo kids to boot)

Vs. My friends and I skanking way too enthusiastically (exactly like these guys are, but not out in random public places)

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