David M. Green: Purveyor of fine humour

Category: My Two Cents

  • My, that’s a nice profile

    Here’s a poem I wrote about online dating. Chicks dig poetry, right?

    “My, that’s a nice profile”
    By David M. Green

    I wonder why
    She wants a guy
    To treat her like a princess?

    I staked out her home.
    I tapped her phone.
    I chased her through a tunnel…
    But nevertheless,
    She did not accept my contact request.

    She has a plan
    To find a man
    Who knows exactly what he wants.

    But I know what I want
    I conveyed it via font
    “I’d love to meet up sometime.”
    From the debutante,
    Only a response that was nonchalant.

    It must be a ploy
    To befriend a boy
    With photos so revealing.

    She looks like a chick
    Who goes to bed quick
    “Oh I’m not that kind of girl”
    I get the feeling,
    She finds me not the least bit appealing.

    Her profile’s been viewed
    By many a dude
    I’m in with the latest batch.

    She likes to par-tee.
    She enjoys a DVD.
    Who doesn’t enjoy those things?
    With such a high match,
    How can she think I’m not a great catch?

    Now this one gal
    From my locale
    Claims to have an open mind.

    Now, she’s not into sleaze.
    And no Indians please.
    Must have job and must have beard.
    I suspect I’ll find…
    That my witty request has been declined.

    With constant ignoring
    Online dating’s boring.
    Eyes hurt from the black and white.

    No wonder men feel inept.
    When no lady will accept.
    I should just delete this thing…
    Oh my God! A bite!
    And how are you on this Saturday night? 🙂

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    See you online. Oh wait, we’re already there.

  • The Thrifty Browser

    Ahoy! I haven’t written a poem in about 10 years, but I was recently inspired by certain real life events to pen this one. Did somebody say, “Oh that DMG, he just hit the Australian media industry zeitgeist right in the sweet spot?”

    No?

    Well, here it is anyway…

    “The Thrifty Browser”
    By David M. Green

    I click on links in interestin’ tweets
    from The Australian & Herald Sun.
    But the journey ends when I reach the paywall.
    Money exchanged equals none.

    The Internet should be free for all.
    Online ads are bad enough.
    When I’m bombarded with pesky pop-ups,
    I vow never to buy any of that stuff.

    Have you heard the new single from blah blah blah?
    I don’t care if pop music stays alive.
    There’s songs from the ‘80s I haven’t discovered yet.
    The last CD I bought was in 2005.

    And why wait a week between episodes
    When you can just download them all in one go?
    I’m more familiar with the New York guide now.
    Just get it from HBO.

    There’s no gift you can buy me
    That I can’t just get for free.
    Although it can get a little tedious
    Browsing torrents, isoHunt and GumTree.

    I like the idea of escaping the PR
    That drives the media these days.
    The web is my sanctuary, my fortress of solitude,
    Filled with excessive cat video replays.

    Working in media would be my dream come true.
    Legitimate careers are uninspiring.
    But it’s pretty difficult to get a job at the moment.
    How come nobody’s hiring?

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Enough said.

  • Got mice?

    Daniel Gardner took a personal day yesterday complaining of “overworked typing fingers”, so I stepped up to the keyboard to share some thoughts on catching mice for the good readers of mX.

    That’s right.

    You may find it easier to read this textual version…

    David M. Green on Mice

    At first it sounds quaint or cosy – late at night to see a furry little creature curiously scurrying along the kitchen floor – but when one becomes three or four, and suddenly there’s rodents exploring cupboards, bedrooms and electrical cables, you’ve got a mouse problem.

    Mice will eat anything. They’ll nibble through plastic to get to the loaf of bread. They once ate through my housemate’s underpants in our wicker laundry basket, through which they also ate.

    Like skinning their natural feline predators, there are many ways to eradicate vermin. The obvious solution is to call a licensed professional ala Christopher Walken in Mousehunt.

    But who has that sort of money? I can’t afford to hire major Hollywood actors for such menial tasks.

    Besides, where’s the fun? Catching a mouse or three sounds like a great adventure.

    My great grandfather caught rats in Adelaide during the Great Depression. He founded his own pest control business, so catching varmints should be in my blood.

    Poison is an option. But not all poisons work immediately. You might find yourself with a decomposing carcass in an unreachable location. Not good for entertaining.

    I say go for a trap.

    Some years ago at a mouse-infested share house, my housemates and I built our own Wile E. Coyote-style trap consisting of a soup pot, a stick and a long piece of string. We just needed a small sign reading “Free Cheese” to complete the illusion.

    Three housemates, a decade of university education between us, sat silently in the dark, trying not to laugh, waiting for a mouse to unwittingly crawl beneath the pot. But those mice are fast. When one did finally inch under, I pulled the string to release the stick but by the time the pot dropped, the mouse was long gone.

    It was a blessing in disguise really – we hadn’t thought ahead as to what we would do once we actually caught the mouse, alive.

    But if you’re buying a proper mouse trap, there are some traps for young players (pardon the pun).

    Firstly, don’t use a RAT trap. Rat traps are for trapping rats. Not mice.

    Mice are too light and nimble to activate the trigger on a big rat trap – they just lick it clean and mockingly leave it for you to find the next morning.

    The best type of mouse trap is the classic wooden design with the metal spring-loaded snapping bar mechanism. They’re also very cheap – two for a dollar from your nearest discount retailer.

    But still, these traps can suffer the same problem. The mice simply eat the bait with the gentlest of gnawing and live to scurry another day.

    A great tip is to use peanut butter for bait, and smear it all over the trap. If the mouse has to crawl all over the trap it’s bound to slip up and SNAP!

    But for the animal lovers, the best tactic might be to just learn to co-exist with our furry friends. That is of course until you can afford a nicer place.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    There’s a mouse next to my computer!

  • Life’s simple pleasures

    The search for happiness and meaning in life is not a new pursuit. But there are moments where you tend to ponder the big picture more than usual.

    I recently departed a full time job and moved into my own apartment, where I suddenly found myself with a lot of time for reflection.

    And I’ve realised the things that make me the happiest are all pretty simple.

    Forget about love, expensive holidays and a dream career! I’ve come up with a list of seven of life’s simple pleasures I believe are the key to happiness. Here they are in no particular order…

    1. Ice in a glass.

    My grandfather, who owned a pub, always said that ice is the cheapest thing you can put in a glass. And short of “absolutely nothing”, he’s right. Having recently purchased my first refrigerator, I’ve made sure there’s a ridiculously large stockpile of ice cubes in the freezer.

    Don’t you love that sound of the ice cracking as a fizzy beverage cascades into a glass? It’s a hypnotic ritual and it always puts a smile on my face.

    2. A hot shower.

    Even after the worst day, ten minutes under a steady stream of hot water can wash away the most awful stresses of the outside world. It’s our fortress of moistened solitude. I imagine Superman has a similar setup at the North Pole. No doubt insulated in some way from the ice.

    3. Carpet.

    Having lived in houses with floorboards for the last few years, it’s so nice to be able to walk barefoot around the house in soft fuzzy comfort again. Plus you can stretch out on the floor without bruising yourself. And it slows down the formation of dust bunnies.

    4. A seven-second hug.

    Hugs are great. But close contact with another human (or animal) for seven seconds or longer releases endorphins that make us feel fantastic. Get as much hug action as you can. Just make sure it’s consensual, because grabbing a stranger at a train station for seven seconds counts as assault.

    5. Sunshine.

    It’s warm. It’s free. And it’s always there. Just don’t stand it in unprotected for too long or stare directly at it. The same can be said for urine.

    6. Bricks.

    That’s right. Bricks. You see less bricks now than in days past. But nothing beats a solid double brick wall for sound-proofing and insulation. Plus you can nail a picture hanger anywhere you like without using a stud-finder.

    And there’s nothing like a bare brick wall on the INSIDE of a house to remind you no wolf is huffing and puffing his way in here. Especially those really dark bricks that are almost black. Oh yeah… that’s the stuff…

    And finally:

    7. Good health

    It seems it’s only when you’re sick that you appreciate just how great it is not to be. Sometimes we can’t control this one. So enjoy it while you can.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Budget pleasure-seeker.

  • Why you should always have a pen

    I’ve had the same Parker Pen since 2003. I’ve also had the same hand since 1987.

    With that pen I completed all my exams for Year 12 and University. It’s also been used by Shaun Micallef, Andrew O’Keefe, Steve Vizard, Sam Mac and The Late Richard Marsland. Derryn Hinch has held it. But he didn’t write with it.

    I won’t get into the things my hand has held.

    My ability to be a somewhat competent comedian rests mainly on two factors:

    1. My ability to generate good ideas, and
    2. My ability not to forget them.

    Ever since I started doing radio in 2006, I’ve carried a pen and a pocket-sized notebook around with me, jotting down thoughts, jokes and other ideas as they come to me.

    People generally seem amused that I carry a pen and paper around with me: “Why don’t you just type a note into your iPhone?”

    Call me old fashioned. I like to write.

    For the first time last Christmas, I finally went through my collection of used notebooks  and put all my unused ideas into a word document. The resultant 450ish ideas ended up 33 pages long and consisted of more than 12,000 words!

    That’s 6 years of always having a pen:

    But my pen rewarded me in a new way this week, when I found myself locked out of my apartment.

    Since I moved into my own place in Hawthorn in March, I’ve found myself pondering how long after slipping on the wet bathroom tile and cracking my head open would my body lie there decomposing before someone bothered to come looking for me?

    Probably at least couple of days.

    My other fear is being locked out. With my family in another state and no one nearby with a spare key, it would be incredibly inconvenient.

    However, that’s exactly what happened on Wednesday when I went out to purchase a baguette and a wedge of brie for a dinner party I was attending that evening.

    I arrived home to find the screen door was locked. This was bizarre for two reasons. Firstly, I don’t ever lock the screen door. And secondly, it’s impossible to lock the screen door without the key.

    The screen door is probably as old as the apartment – circa 1968 – and features a key that looks like something out of Sherlock Holmes:

    And considering the screen door is full of holes and merely provides a lovely view of the doors to neighbouring apartments, I decided I wasn’t going to use it.

    I’ve got enough pens and notebooks in my pockets already. I’m sure as hell not carrying the key to “The Secret Garden” with me everywhere I go.

    But what the hell? How come I can’t open the screen door?

    After jiggling it around for a bit, I did the same with the door – to no avail.

    So I called the real estate agent. After being on hold for 10 minutes, they told me they didn’t have a spare key and suggested I call the landlord. The landlord was 4 hours away near Lakes Entrance and although had a key, was unable to deliver it to me. He suggested jimmying it open or, sigh… calling a locksmith.

    Upon closer inspection, I realised it wasn’t actually the locking mechanism which had “locked” the door. It was the metal latch that should simply retract when the handle is turned.

    For some reason, something inside the door had malfunctioned and the latch had popped out, effectively locking the door. It was no longer responding when the handle was turned. You can see it extended here:

    I wonder what could have caused this? Perhaps the 5.2 magnitude earthquake the night before? Who knows. It’s an old freaking door.

    I tried wedging it open using my Boost Juice membership card, which was the least important thin piece of plastic on my person. But it wasn’t strong enough. Even after doubling it up with my Australian Blood Donor’s card, the plastic just kept bending.

    The other keys I had with me were all too thick and short to be effective. The only other thing I had on me was my beloved pen.

    Incredibly, I was actually able to use the pen’s metal ink refill as a “ramp” for the door. But I really had to force the door open, which left the pen insert crippled:

    And can you believe it… it still writes!

    So I got back in my apartment and avoided keeping another locksmith in business. Thank God.

    Of course, I then managed to lock myself INSIDE the apartment; an even more frightening prospect. Especially if there’s a fire (I live on the third floor and it’s the only way in or out).

    That really was the final “curtain” for that screen door. It now resides off its hinges.

    So what did I learn?

    1. Always have a pen. And
    2. The “M” stands for MacGyver.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Are you writing this down?