Dumb Ways to Die (the Demons version)

Money BinAs some of you reading this will know, my alter ego is a mild-mannered Melbourne Demons supporter by the name of Jonathan.

As some of you reading this will know, the Melbourne Demons may be the second most ineptly run organisation in the history of civilisation.

As some of you reading this will know, last year Metro Trains (the most ineptly run organisation in the history of civilisation) released a hilarious public safety video called Dumb Ways to Die.

The Demons have now fallen so far that the possibility of extinction is once again shrouding the club like a foul stench.

So, with apologies to Julian Frost and John Mescall…

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The nice guy campaign

Wootten
A few years ago my mate Jess Cameron-Wootten started making shoes. He got good at it – ridiculously good – and now he makes them (and other staggeringly brilliant things made from leather) for a living out of a shop called Wootten.

This, I promise, is not a shameless commercial plug. This is a classic Haught campaign involving the forces of good versus the forces of bitchy.

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My email to myki

myki imageIn 2002 the Victorian State Government began to take steps towards changing to a new public transport ticketing system that would replace the distinctly unimpressive (but vaguely stable) Metcard.

The new model would introduce smartcards to Victoria for the first time and, according to those in the know, avert the problems that would come from the impending obsolescence of the previous system.

A zillion dollars and six eons later, myki was finally introduced.

Not one single element of it was inherently better than the Metcard system. It was slower in every regard, not remotely intuitive, riddled with bugs, accompanied by a public information campaign involving gross condescension, and abysmally impractical for visitors to the state.

Smart? It was as dumb as buggery – a veritable imbecile in the pantheon of ticketing systems.

And still is. Very little has changed since its first drunken, wayward, confusing steps. It would look hopelessly out of place in the early 2000s and is hilariously inadequate in the hyper-digital world of 2013.

Since the 29th of December 2012 it has been the single principal ticketing system across Victoria (alongside V-Line tickets) and has proved an utter shambles of a “solution” (as the corporate wankers say these days).… Read the rest

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Pat Raw: The Musical

by Haught 1 Comment

TramThe last installment of the Pat Raw Chronicles ended with Haught fan Julianne Rice suggesting that it was “only a matter of time before Agatha stands and sings a melancholic solo after which her fellow commuters will leap to their feet in an energetic choral and acrobatic display. Pat Raw: The Musical.”

This inspired me. It inspired me even more than my own erotic fiction inspires me. It inspired me more than watching 1990s Bush Tucker Man inspires me. It inspired me more than steam trains on trestle bridges inspire me.

So I wrote a song for Agatha, based on a song from Les Miserables. I posted it on Facebook and then about seven seconds later the  excessively talented Kristy McKenzie sent me her version. Anyway, see and hear for yourself…

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The Pat Raw Chronicles (cont’d)

Koala PatIf you’re new to Haught and haven’t yet got onto the official Haught Facebook page, you might not know who Pat Raw is. This makes you either very fortunate or very unfortunate, depending on how much you enjoy hearing about others’ bowel movements, D-grade sporting achievements and sex lives.

You can find out all about him by having a squizz at my introduction to Pat from August.

If you are familiar with Pat, but haven’t been keeping up with his latest hijinks, here are the highlights from August til the end of November, taken directly from Facebook:

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The Pat Raw Chronicles

© Fonee | Stock Free Images

Over the last few months, a legend has been born.

If you ‘like’ Haught on Facebook you might already know him as Pat Raw.

If not, you can find out why ‘Pat’, why ‘Raw’ and why he’s a full-blown phenomenon below.  It’s a collection of the mobile Facebook posts I’ve been recently making while on the tram to work.

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I owe Little Bean Blue a dollar

Dear fans of Haught Feelings,

I need a little favour. I need you to make sure I don’t forget something.

You see I owe a cafe in the Melbourne CBD a dollar.

Here’s how it happened. I went into the shop this morning and, just as I was about to approach the little take-your-order area, realised I was badly short of walletal cash.

When I’m not hiding behind my keyboard writing sarcastic (and what have been referred to as “quasi-intellectual”) complaint emails I roam the real world as a graceless buffoon. For that reason, once I discovered that I was at least a dollar short, I made the decision to crouch in the doorway and rummage for a gold coin that I have intermittently sighted, Emmaville Panther-like, at the bottom of my satchel.

My preposterous delving and scratching may well have lasted for several hours had the barista not stopped me by calling “Jonathan – strong latte!”

I only heard about Little Bean Blue a little while ago and have been in about ten times ever. In the last week I think I might have been in four times. Somehow, in that minuscule amount of time, the regular barista – with whom I’ve shared no more than three words on any given day – has not only learned my name, but also my preferred coffee AND is happy to start making it before I’ve even proved my ability to make a commercial transaction.… Read the rest

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THE RESPONSE: My email to Yarra Trams

You may have noticed by now that I believe sarcasm is the second highest form of wit (lavatory humour being the first). Today, however, I write without even the slightest hint of it.

You may remember a few weeks ago I posted an email I had sent to this mob:

If you didn’t catch it, you can read it here.

I write the emails I send to well-known people and organisations, imagining very different reception scenarios. In the case of the Jim Beam email, for instance, I imagined a chimpanzee being slightly surprised by the noise of the email chime, making a little noise of distress, then (inexpertly) pressing the delete button with his long index finger, just like he’d been taught to.

In the case of the email I once sent to Kyle Sandilands, I imagined Jackie O phonetically reading the email on a tablet computer out loud from the side of a pool in which Kyle was lolling, and giving up after the second paragraph (and the fifteenth time Kyle called her a “dumb, illiterate moll”).

In the case of the email I once sent to Margaret Court, I imagined Margaret herself hissing at the screen and then escaping into the night through the window in the form of a bat.… Read the rest

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The Grape Men Ride Again

If you’re new to the Haught blog, you might not know who the Grape Men are. In this case, you might find my introduction to the Grape Men from a few weeks ago helpful:

The Grape Men

Yesterday I heard one of the Grape Men ask another one to help him push an empty wheelbarrow from one side of the lot to another. When the other bloke said “Why? Why you move it?” the reply was “Do I need a fuck reason?” and everyone laughed. Including me.

A few days ago I heard one of them ask another to open the bonnet of the car he was trying to start and see if he could detect any problems. The other fellow said “No. Do it youself. I’m busy.” I rushed to the kitchen window and stood on tiptoes and to my delight found that the only guy who could possibly have said “I’m busy” was sitting on a wooden crate smoking a cigarette and patting a stray cat.

Truly, these are kings among men.

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