My new housemate is a member of a certain cult-like organisation, which shall remain nameless. You know the one – it costs about $900 to get all your problems out in front of a room full of people, and they’re always trying to convert people. Before anyone starts screeching and squawking, we’ve already had The Conversation, which went something like this:
Her: Yeah, so you should come along some time, it’s really amazing.
Me: Nah, it’s not my thing. Not my bag, baby!! (subtext: I don’t have any problems)
Her: Ok then! Fair enough!
O cult, o indoctrinate.
Anyway, so she had a meeting in the living room the other night, and did a bit of a re-organise of the room (she put everything back before I was even up the next morning, which is why we love this lass). It was something called ‘Introductions’. I noticed that the loo books (those which had been lovingly collected at the 99c bin at Savers) went through a bit of a re-shuffle. Here’s a list of what was deemed suitable and unsuitable for ‘Introductions’:
The Good Time Guide to London (60s-style guidebook, with dinky illustrations)
The Reader’s Digest Book of World Travel
Natural Wonders (volcanoes erupting etc)
Austria (40s-style guidebook, with coloured photos of people in dirndls, making cheese, saluting Hitler etc)
HIDDEN UNDER OTHER BOOKS:
The Meaning of Liff (English place names with slightly saucy meanings)
Cher! The Unauthorised Biography
What’s Happening To Me? (pubertal tufts, knobs and knockers)
The Galaxy (pictures of starbursts, black holes etc)
The Bible in Glorious Living Pictures (splendid shots of C-grade actors playing Joseph, Methuslah etc)
I am entirely bemused! Why were some deemed in and some deemed out? Why was The Bible book given the heave-ho, when my Hindoo gods/goddess tiles sat nearby? And the wooden black priest I bought in Ghana? What is so peculiar about planetary nebula and the satellites of Uranus? Are the members of this cult likely to sift extensively through a stranger’s loo books anyway??
I NEED TO KNOW.
Now Cher is back to gazing at me with her eerily symmetrical stare while I’m hanging a wee, so things are back as they should be.