Posted by: Carolyn ODonnell | January 5, 2014

Christmas: Time to get weird with a fringe on top

Oh yes, the weeks before Christmas were a haze of minced wine and mulled pies. That has been true of some years, though not really this one. Mince pies and mulled wine are not flung about with abandon in December in the Tropics. It’s winter, I think, but it’s not really plum pudding weather, just a bit less sweaty. And I suspect many people in Malaysia have never actually seen a mince pie. They’re not missing much, I never really liked them anyway.
Even without the cement-like effect of Christmas food on the GIT, I still had the post-Christmas torpor. In the aftermath of all that tinsel and goodwill towards retail outlets the brain was too cooked to perform useful functions so I started sorting through crap to enable feeling useful without having to think.
I found what follows in a folder of emails; a folder that Microsoft didn’t destroy when I bought a new computer. For some reason there are all these things you cannot do on this computer unless you have a Microsoft account. Maybe I don’t WANT a Microsoft account. I happen to have one (hotmail) that I keep mainly because I’ve had it for a really long time but it’s rubbish, and this new version I didn’t want is worse. Things the old Hotmail did that were useful have been stripped from it … Then I couldn’t use it anyway without answering all these intrusive questions, the result being I was locked out of the account for a MONTH. Then it let me back in – but only on one computer – and did stuff to my email that it never asked for or was given permission to do, the results being missing emails and me hating Microsoft fairly intensely. That is the sound of my teeth grinding in Microsoft-induced fury.

Need a picture here, and don't really have anything suitable, so ... let's have some elephants

Need a picture here, and don’t really have anything suitable, so … let’s have some elephants

Next computer will be Apple I think. And I am using do not track me, a Firefox add-on that stops cybertrolls gathering information as you surf. Hopefully. This never started out as a computer whinge but it feels good to vent.
Anyway, I found the following. it was part of a script I wrote where this gay guy wanted to have a baby (I think this is Alexander), and he is on a horse-drawn float in a parade (where else?) with some grumpy drag queens who are on a low-carb diet, trying to channel the musical Oklahoma (surrey with the fringe on top, beautiful mornings, Hugh Jackman in the revival and all that). These drag queens are HUNGRY. In my mind at least they are truck-driving drag queen Oklahomos with big love handles, a bad attitude and a yawning void within. There’s no flapping yer gums round croissants in front of this crowd without causing violence.

Alexander, by the way, has a fish phobia, which extends to seafood in jars and cans. Kate was the clueless potential babymama.

This fragment remains …

OKLAHOMETTE 1 and 2 are watching ALEXANDER eating.


Who does she think she is? Just, just CHEWING front of me like that!

(They move closer in a menacing way.)

OKLAHOMETTE 2 (threateningly)

Who said you could eat a muffin?

ALEXANDER (startled)

I, ah, sorry. Do you want some?


Of course I want some! And I don’t need you tempting me like that with your brazen bakery products. Now you’ve set off my cravings, and seeing as I can’t have the triple choc truffle mousse cream cake I really want, I’ll have to eat this!

OKLAMOMETTE 2 pulls a jar of herring out of her pocket and brandishes it under ALEXANDER’S nose. ALEXANDER sees it, screams, staggers backwards and falls on the driver who is knocked off the float. The horses are frightened and start trotting off. Everyone screams. KATE with butch friend on a motorbike is approaching the Oklahomo float as it takes off. ALEXANDER IS clinging to the side of the float yelling. OKLAHOMETTE 2 stumbles and drops the herring.


It’s Alexander! Follow the Oklahomos.


Whatever you want honey.

FENELLA, DUCHESS and HUSSY see what’s happened and commandeer other motorcyclists to pursue the float. Unnoticed, a man with a video camera does the same.


The jar of herring is rolling around on the float and ALEXANDER is paralyzed. He is frozen with fear, gasping, but he closes his eyes, focuses, grabs a nearby hoe and sweeps the herring off the side.


Hey, I wanted that.


A friend read this and said she liked the dialogue but thought it was derivative. I guess it is, though it still makes me laugh when one of the Oklahomos barks at Alexander for eating a pastry. And I have yet to see anyone triumph over their deepest fears by dispensing with a container of processed fish.

But probably what it really needs is a big bag of guns and a meth lab. Righto, back to watching Breaking Bad.

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