Drinks on the King of Tonga
My dear mate and former colleague Kyles was in town for a few days for a work do. Her marvellous boss (known as the "King of Tonga" for his joy in excess *) came to town too, so it was "slaughter a pig and book us the Hyatt!"
As we sat in the cigar lounge with our mate Fiasco da Gama (whose name you might recognise from umpteen Australian Idol message boards if, like her, you have had too many essays to write recently) we talked about our love of Australian language, Christian romance fiction for teenagers (how can so many encounters be physically satisfactory yet leave one feeling so "empty") and Kyles' long struggles against the injustices of the world.
Kyles is, you see, a nation state. She has not recognised the State of Israel since 1986, and will not take up diplomatic relations until a Palestinian homeland exists. You might think this is just spouting off, but Kyles is a woman of principle. For the twelve years she lived in the UK, she did not eat one avocado. Not.a.single.one.
Nor does she recognise the Academy Awards (since Denzel Washington won Best Actor) and will not do so until they adequately recognise the contribution made by African Americans to the film industry.
Kyles has one more year to run until she is no longer blackbanned by Amnesty International - they called her a fascist for her interpretation of the constituents of a human right. She has not read the SMH since 1998, when they published a list of the best pools in Sydney that did not venture further west than Balmain. As I said, a woman of principle.
She is one of the funniest, finest people I know, and the only one who has ever said "My God! I look like the wreck of the Hesperus!". Apart from Fiasco da Gama's mum.
* This is only the second best work nickname I've ever heard. I used to work with a little liked person who was relentless in her quest to sign every piece of paper in the joint with her initials, "JK". She quickly became "JFK", with the "F" standing for the obvious. And she never bought anyone a drink. Onya, KoT.
As we sat in the cigar lounge with our mate Fiasco da Gama (whose name you might recognise from umpteen Australian Idol message boards if, like her, you have had too many essays to write recently) we talked about our love of Australian language, Christian romance fiction for teenagers (how can so many encounters be physically satisfactory yet leave one feeling so "empty") and Kyles' long struggles against the injustices of the world.
Kyles is, you see, a nation state. She has not recognised the State of Israel since 1986, and will not take up diplomatic relations until a Palestinian homeland exists. You might think this is just spouting off, but Kyles is a woman of principle. For the twelve years she lived in the UK, she did not eat one avocado. Not.a.single.one.
Nor does she recognise the Academy Awards (since Denzel Washington won Best Actor) and will not do so until they adequately recognise the contribution made by African Americans to the film industry.
Kyles has one more year to run until she is no longer blackbanned by Amnesty International - they called her a fascist for her interpretation of the constituents of a human right. She has not read the SMH since 1998, when they published a list of the best pools in Sydney that did not venture further west than Balmain. As I said, a woman of principle.
She is one of the funniest, finest people I know, and the only one who has ever said "My God! I look like the wreck of the Hesperus!". Apart from Fiasco da Gama's mum.
* This is only the second best work nickname I've ever heard. I used to work with a little liked person who was relentless in her quest to sign every piece of paper in the joint with her initials, "JK". She quickly became "JFK", with the "F" standing for the obvious. And she never bought anyone a drink. Onya, KoT.
posted by Zoe at 1:26 pm
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