GRATUITOUS FILLER: MESSAGE BOOK SCRIBBLINGS

Ok, so when Nick and I used to share an apartment, the “message book” was an institution – a means of leaving telephone messages for each other, a way of keeping each other apprised of our respective comings and goings and - more often than anything else - a means of carrying out passive aggressive conflict rather than directly confronting each other with our grievances.

When we “parted ways” as flatmates the message books fell into my custody, and I still occasionally flick through their grimy, grease stained pages, a testament to previous boyfriends, Nick’s habit for leaving fabulous food I otherwise didn’t deserve in the fridge for me, scribbled notes for Nick’s first novel and other semi-remembered domestic oddities. The following, are some of the less salacious entries.


NICK: Mel don’t forget – 3 @ Angus. I had a dream last night that you and I had to hire a man to kill a shark for us.


NICK: Mel, somebody calling themselves “Heil” rang. He did not swear his allegiance to Hitler, though.


NICK: Mel, number 2 boyfriend rang for you.


NICK: There is chili in the fridge. Do not garrot yourself on the clothesline suspended across the stairs. I have done it several times already.

Later – Ignore clothesline comment above. Sorry about the string all over yr bedroom, will clean tomorrow.


Eds note: Following relates to the ARIA awards, 2000.

MEL: Hey Nick boy, here lies rent money as owed last weekend. I should be home some time this arvo. Please if you can be around, be around. Me needs to be pinned into dress.

NICK: Nice entrance! You almost crashed into Bardot!! Here I am watching the stars arrive and in the background is you walking up the carpet, shaking your head in disgust at something. Then you nearly smacked into one of the brown headed ones. You should have kicked her ass.

P.S. Got an email from Bonnnie – phone # and offer to meet up! I am my own hero!


NICK: Mel – we have been out of toilet paper for three days. Your pasta pan is still on the sink from 3 days ago. I MADE the baked dinner so you clean it up. I am SICK of being the only person to clean pans.

MEL: Sorry. Too SHAGGED to CLEAN last night.


MEL: Fantastic news….The goddamned dryer has the same problem it had before when we paid some ridiculous amount of money to have it fixed. It does not dry!

NICK: Well as long as it still works for everything else…..


MEL: Nicholas, please call your father when you get in tonight. P.S. I bought you some corn.

NICK: Mel, there is some asparagus soup in the fridge. We need dishwashing tablets URGENTLY. Far more important than tinned corn.

Eds note: I seem to vaguely recall this tin of corn flying out the window and over the balcony in the midst of some wild argument whose content I can’t quite remember….


NICK: Thank you very much for giving me your cold!


NICK: Mel, I checked on the internet – Bazooka no longer exists. Sundays are now a night of trance and dub. It is stuff like this that is making me feel that everything that once defined me has disappeared leaving a formless void of uncertainty.

MEL: Redefine thyself!!!

NICK: You mean like: “the new Nicholas enjoys smoking, drawing and trance/dub”?


NICK: Some asshole friend of yours rang. He was drunk, obnoxious and incoherent and kept calling me “tiger” so I hung up on him. He then rang back and left a delightful answering machine message. Where do you find these people?


NICK: Your boy came buzzing again, I told him you were out. Picnicking w/Bonnie tomorrow, any last minute advice?

MEL: Yes. Always remember: YOUR DIGNITY IS AT STAKE. And. More importantly: NEVER LET YOUR DIGNITY STAND IN THE WAY OF A GOOD TIME.