Oh, I am a naughty blogger, aren't I? My sincerest apologies for not getting with the typing before this rather tardy (the delayed kind, not the politically incorrect retarded kind) date, but I do have an excellent excuse. Seriously, I do.
Sydney.
But more of that later. I probably owe you all a little more grovelling yet, I mean, without rantolotl for a few weeks, I can only assume you've had to all resort to lesser forms of entertainment. Boggle, for instance. Or maybe you've been flicking playing cards into a top hat. Krus has been numbing the pain by drinking VB. Fandango Jones has whiled the time away by building house-sized forts out of boxes. Shane developed a new hobby. Vomit Girl simply morphed into crockery. Needless to say, this lack of updates has taken its toll on us all.
But for the last few months the Rantolotl's spare time has been increasing enveloped by developments around that ridiculous festival of elitist wankery known as APEC. And while it's a fact I don't write rantolotl in my spare time per se, but perhaps a little more on my employers clock, my brain has been kidnapped by about 100 words, most of which were related to APEC organising, APEC itself and my general hatred of everything Sydney. This of course means that most recent work related emails have read something like this:
Hello Sir,
I am writing to inform you that the issue you reported to helpdesk last month has since been resolved and OH JESUS! TOOHEYS NEW! we expect that this should no longer affect your THREE METRE HIGH, FIVE KILOMETER LONG WALL of students.
Kind regards,
STOP YOUR INFERNAL ANARCHIST CLICKING!
The Rantolotl.
But now I'm almost back to normal. The hundred words floating around my head have expanded to about a thousand or so, and have gone back to including my age old favorites like FUCK!, CUNT!, I, BLAME, and KRUS. So, back to the topic at hand here; Why I Hate Sydney.
It's a question that shouldn't need answering, but given that every fucking idiot out there seems to think it's a really awesome place, and wow will you just look at that harbour bridge, I'm clearly going to have to go into detail.
1) It's aggroland
Seriously. Everywhere you go in Sydney, people are pissed and/or pissed off. They yell, they push and they shove, and they cut in line unapologetically. We have this little thing in Melbourne which we like to call consideration, but the populous of Sydney are clearly unaware of it. I'd blame the whole rugby obsession thing, but Queenslanders too have rugby, but aren't nearly that aggro. This has led me to develop two theories:
a) love of rugby = very racist people
b) love of Tooheys New = very angry people
These are yet to be independently scientifically tested, but I think it's pretty sound.
2) Everything costs an insane amount of money
'Hello good sir, I would like to buy an apple.'
'Why, yes certainly, you utter bastard. That will be $20 and a kick in the balls.'
That pretty much sums up every transaction you will make in Sydney, unless you're rich and/or famous, in which case you will be charged double the initial amount and forgo the kick in the family jewels.
3) Public transport is shite & makes no sense
To buy a ticket on the delight that is cityrail, you generally must go through the following steps:
Locate a ticket window.
Take note of enormous line extending from said ticket window.
Locate automatic ticket machine.
Try to find a button which vaguely corresponds to what you hope to achieve by catching a train on said network.
Give up.
Press random buttons until the costing appears to be of a sufficiently high price for how far you guesstimate you are travelling, in the hope any roving ticket inspectors will just take pity on you.
Realise that the machine is no longer accepting anything other than exact fare.
Realise that all other machines are no longer accepting anything other than exact fare.
Join the ticket window line
Listen to the ticket seller proclaim that no, you don't want the ticket you've asked for, but not offer any sort of alternative.
Give up and find a taxi.
4) It's boring as batshit.
Once you do the ten minute tour of circular quay, there's really not a lot else on offer. You can always point and laugh at the worlds most redundant monorail (though someone may stab you for this - see point 1), or you can visit a large Woolworths in the middle of the CBD. Other than getting drunk on shit, yet rather expensive beer that no one will serve in a fucking pint, you've pretty much covered it all. Whoopee.
5) Sydney cops
If we thought the general population of Sydney was pretty aggro, it came as quite a shock when met the local constabulary. I can only assume the average coppers' day starts with being locked in a small cage by their superiors, followed by rigorous testing of their new water cannon, CS foam guns & cop-dogs. Maybe they get beaten with big sticks, too. Either way, when they're set free onto the streets, they're all riled up like a kid with ADD & a gutful of skittles. And some fool thought it was a good idea to arm them in this state...
That's all I've got to say about Sydney for now. Largely because the more I type about this god-awful hole of a place, the more I need a drink, and frankly, I don't think management will take all that kindly to me whipping a round of daiquiris in the staff kitchenette.
Kindest regards,
The Rantolotl.
PS - To anyone in Sydney: Leave, now. Come to Melbourne and be merry! ...and bring the Melbournite your pigs arrested over APEC down with you. We like her and we want her back. She's very little, and will probably fit in your carry-on if you'd like to fly.
Sydney.
But more of that later. I probably owe you all a little more grovelling yet, I mean, without rantolotl for a few weeks, I can only assume you've had to all resort to lesser forms of entertainment. Boggle, for instance. Or maybe you've been flicking playing cards into a top hat. Krus has been numbing the pain by drinking VB. Fandango Jones has whiled the time away by building house-sized forts out of boxes. Shane developed a new hobby. Vomit Girl simply morphed into crockery. Needless to say, this lack of updates has taken its toll on us all.
But for the last few months the Rantolotl's spare time has been increasing enveloped by developments around that ridiculous festival of elitist wankery known as APEC. And while it's a fact I don't write rantolotl in my spare time per se, but perhaps a little more on my employers clock, my brain has been kidnapped by about 100 words, most of which were related to APEC organising, APEC itself and my general hatred of everything Sydney. This of course means that most recent work related emails have read something like this:
Hello Sir,
I am writing to inform you that the issue you reported to helpdesk last month has since been resolved and OH JESUS! TOOHEYS NEW! we expect that this should no longer affect your THREE METRE HIGH, FIVE KILOMETER LONG WALL of students.
Kind regards,
STOP YOUR INFERNAL ANARCHIST CLICKING!
The Rantolotl.
But now I'm almost back to normal. The hundred words floating around my head have expanded to about a thousand or so, and have gone back to including my age old favorites like FUCK!, CUNT!, I, BLAME, and KRUS. So, back to the topic at hand here; Why I Hate Sydney.
It's a question that shouldn't need answering, but given that every fucking idiot out there seems to think it's a really awesome place, and wow will you just look at that harbour bridge, I'm clearly going to have to go into detail.
1) It's aggroland
Seriously. Everywhere you go in Sydney, people are pissed and/or pissed off. They yell, they push and they shove, and they cut in line unapologetically. We have this little thing in Melbourne which we like to call consideration, but the populous of Sydney are clearly unaware of it. I'd blame the whole rugby obsession thing, but Queenslanders too have rugby, but aren't nearly that aggro. This has led me to develop two theories:
a) love of rugby = very racist people
b) love of Tooheys New = very angry people
These are yet to be independently scientifically tested, but I think it's pretty sound.
2) Everything costs an insane amount of money
'Hello good sir, I would like to buy an apple.'
'Why, yes certainly, you utter bastard. That will be $20 and a kick in the balls.'
That pretty much sums up every transaction you will make in Sydney, unless you're rich and/or famous, in which case you will be charged double the initial amount and forgo the kick in the family jewels.
3) Public transport is shite & makes no sense
To buy a ticket on the delight that is cityrail, you generally must go through the following steps:
Locate a ticket window.
Take note of enormous line extending from said ticket window.
Locate automatic ticket machine.
Try to find a button which vaguely corresponds to what you hope to achieve by catching a train on said network.
Give up.
Press random buttons until the costing appears to be of a sufficiently high price for how far you guesstimate you are travelling, in the hope any roving ticket inspectors will just take pity on you.
Realise that the machine is no longer accepting anything other than exact fare.
Realise that all other machines are no longer accepting anything other than exact fare.
Join the ticket window line
Listen to the ticket seller proclaim that no, you don't want the ticket you've asked for, but not offer any sort of alternative.
Give up and find a taxi.
4) It's boring as batshit.
Once you do the ten minute tour of circular quay, there's really not a lot else on offer. You can always point and laugh at the worlds most redundant monorail (though someone may stab you for this - see point 1), or you can visit a large Woolworths in the middle of the CBD. Other than getting drunk on shit, yet rather expensive beer that no one will serve in a fucking pint, you've pretty much covered it all. Whoopee.
5) Sydney cops
If we thought the general population of Sydney was pretty aggro, it came as quite a shock when met the local constabulary. I can only assume the average coppers' day starts with being locked in a small cage by their superiors, followed by rigorous testing of their new water cannon, CS foam guns & cop-dogs. Maybe they get beaten with big sticks, too. Either way, when they're set free onto the streets, they're all riled up like a kid with ADD & a gutful of skittles. And some fool thought it was a good idea to arm them in this state...
That's all I've got to say about Sydney for now. Largely because the more I type about this god-awful hole of a place, the more I need a drink, and frankly, I don't think management will take all that kindly to me whipping a round of daiquiris in the staff kitchenette.
Kindest regards,
The Rantolotl.
PS - To anyone in Sydney: Leave, now. Come to Melbourne and be merry! ...and bring the Melbournite your pigs arrested over APEC down with you. We like her and we want her back. She's very little, and will probably fit in your carry-on if you'd like to fly.
11 comments:
I went to a rave on the Saturday night and the cheap ecstasy disproved points 1, 2 & 4 while other events of that evening only further proved points 3 & 5. :P
I never did understand the whole Melbourne vs. Sydney city rivalry thing. There are so many bloody arguments about it, and none of them even resemble reality in the remotest. I mean, really, what is there to argue? Sydney has no redeeming features - Melbourne has an abundance of good pubs and beer. That's about as close to a perfect Bad/Good example as you'll ever get, so unless you like making life a painful drudge I just don't see why you would choose Sydney.
Unless the choice you were making was which Australian city has to be sacrificed so that the rest may live on and prosper. Then you can choose Sydney.
The best thing about Sydney is leaving Sydney. I never thought I would be itching to get on a plane, but Sydney makes even air-travel fun. Hell, it makes a swift kick to the beanbags seem like fun.
try leaving Sydney BY BUS while still coming down from the rave the night before :-S
In early 1999 myself, family and family friends were holidaying on a house boat in the Hawksbury River followed by a stay in Manly. The latter part of the holiday was great, but the same cannot be said for the house boat, that really sucked (to avoid going insane, do not holiday on a house boat). Anyway during our stay we only went into the Sydney CBD once and that's the only time I've been in Sydney.
Oh and Rantolotl contrary to your comments of the ticketing system on Sydney's PT system, I've heard it's shitloads better than Melbourne's (according to my Grandpa's opinion anyway).
I've also heard that Sydney's PT (I'd like someone to confirm this) is state owned, unlike Melbourne's (I'm still annoyed about Brumby giving Melbourne commuters further arse-fuckery by not bringing PT back to state-ownership).
There is a downside to Sydney transport wise, because while their PT may be better than Melbourne's I here there roads are an absolute nightmare (heaps of one way streets etc).
You haven't answered the most important question...
How was the McDonalds?
Actually, that's a really good question.
Amazingly, the maccas on Broadway heading towards Newtown or Ultimo or whatever the fuck you want to call it was the only maccas in recent memory that has understood the request "I'd like a Sausage McMuffin please" to mean I would like a Sausage McMuffin, and not a Sausage & Egg Mc Muffin.
I was really quite chuffed.
Rantolotl, finally someone who also likes Sausage McMuffins (only I like Sausage & Egg McMuffins, I love eggs). Several people I know only seem to like the Bacon & Egg Muffins and havn't even tried the Sasuage & Egg. The always go down nicely if I get to Melb. Central station earlier than expected!
Hey, this is a question for fandango jonesy: How the hell do you do that to a dog and walk away smiling?
The key is to baste it thoroughly and return to the oven for a further 30-45 minutes for a golden finish.
when I was in Sydney I spent the whole time eating Hungry Jacks :P
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