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• Fish n Chips
  by Nina Cullen

  / “The Hawaiian pack will be another couple of minutes,” Lindsay apologised to the boy in blue board shorts. He shrugged and she follo…

  / “The Hawaiian pack will be another couple of minutes,” Lindsay apologised to the boy in blue board shorts. He shrugged and she followed the freckles on his back as he retreated back to his girlfriend who was sitting on the steps outside. She dropped the banana and pineapple fritters into the oil one at a time. They plopped under then rose to the top with oil fizzing at their edges like a Berocca. She stood back from the deep fryer and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. Two more hours and she could untie her apron, switch t-shirts and walk down to the water to go for a quick swim. The first dip under was magic, it washed the chicken salt from under her fingers, the fish smell from her hair and the semi-scowl of injustice from her face. / From her place behind the counter Lindsay could smell the salt air and see the gulls but she couldn’t see the beach. She served the hungry people all lured by a salt water dip and the dream of a tan. They walked past in a selection of paint-chart shades, rude reds that were going to hurt to sleep on, browns so baked they were more a texture than a colour and yellows that had come out of a bottle for the day. They walked in bikinied, boardshorted, barefoot and thronged. And then they walked out again and it was then that Lindsay felt the distance over the counter and out the door. / She hadn’t left the city these holidays, not once. There were girls whose families owned houses up or down the coast, the whole family packed their daily life together and just moved it to another town. Her friend Crystal had posters on the wall and clothes permanently in the cupboard at her holiday house. Lindsay had stayed with Crystal and her family for a week in the September holidays. She was so happy to be there, tucked neatly in a real bed that wasn’t just a mattress on the floor. Yet the whole week she had been shadowed by something unsettling. She didn’t like not being happy for Crystal but she hated going to bed every night with a new list of things to wish she had; her own room in a holiday house, two parents, coco pops for breakfast, naturally olive skin, siblings on either side of her, a grandfather, a natural patience for fishing, a Mum who gave her pocket money. She wasn’t sure if it was green-eyed or not but there did feel like there was some sort of monster inside Lindsay. Better not to enjoy lovely things if it meant then lying awake at night, every thought starting with the impossible mantra of ‘I wish……’ / The idea was supposed to be that if you really wished for something it would come true. That it was all a matter of discipline and dedication in the wishing. Hard enough, was that about squinting your eyes and creasing your forehead? Wasn’t it enough that Lindsay lay in bed and sometimes cried about all the things she thought she would never get? When she was at their school fete last year she had bought raffle tickets for a home entertainment system. She thought that maybe because she really wanted it, it would be her name that got pulled out of the barrel and that maybe it really was all fair in the end, all of this random stuff. She was so sure she would win, so sure that it was time to balance everything else out that she felt she was owed. / “Green 57. McLintock,” the Vice Principal’s voice echoed with the same intonation from assemblies. Be careful what you wish for – not at all, there was no justice in this world and no need to be cautious about wishing. / / “Looking for any extra shifts over Christmas?” Roger had taken Lindsay aside before she left one Thursday night. He had a pair of tongs still in his hands that he pointed at her and they glistened with the dribbles of everything they had touched. / “I guess so,” Lindsay answered. / “Have a think about it. Long hot summer,” he winked, “there will be as much work as you want. You a morning or afternoon start on Saturday?” / “Afternoon,” Lindsay replied. She preferred an early start where her shift wasn’t always there throughout the day, hanging around like an unwritten essay. / The mystery with Roger was that he seemed to love what he did. He was always whistling and smiling and from what the older ladies had told Lindsay about his life she wasn’t sure that there was much to be whistling about. He joked with the customers, even the cranky and indecisive ones. He smiled as he wrestled barbequed chickens from their rotisserie and as he flipped patties over on the hot plate. / / Lindsay stood behind the bain-marie, wiped a strand of hair out of her eyes and got to work on the next order. She had more to add to her wish list behind that counter than in Crystal’s holiday house; to not be working, to be spending the day with friends, to look that good in a Roxy bikini, to have a boyfriend, to have hair that bleached naturally in the sun…… / “Number 13, Hawaiian pack,” Lindsay called over the hiss of the hot plate. The boy in the blue board shorts walked up to the counter. The shorts sat low on his hips, leaving a belt of white skin. The hair that was bleached on his stomach darkened there in a line that disappeared under his Velcro. / “$7.00 thanks.” / He held a bottle of coke up. / “And the Coke, that’s $10 exactly.” Lindsay blushed, $10 exactly? He didn’t care that she worked here so many hours that getting an order adding up to a neat dollar was worth mentioning. He gave her a handful of coins. Nervous of touching his fingers, she dropped some of them, they rolled off the counter and onto the floor. Lindsay picked up the few stray coins and counted them out in a fluster. She lost count and started again, hating that the boy was watching her. / “Sorry, I need another 50 cents.” / The boy raised his eyebrows and stuck a hand in his pocket, bringing it out empty. “Bec,” he called outside, “you got 50 cents?” / Lindsay looked down at the bench to avoid the hungry customers who couldn’t believe 50 cents was the reason they hadn’t placed their order yet. A man came forward to the counter and slapped down a coin. / “50 cents?” / “Thanks buddy!” the boy took his bag and disappeared in the same direction every other tanned boy went. / “Can I order now?” The man wasn’t really asking a question. He was wearing the Dad combination of a t-shirt over speedoes. His legs were meaty and white and covered in hair that was still wet and slicked. He stood there half arms crossed and began his order, “One calamari and chips, two fish and chips, a hamburger with barbeque sauce and a medium serve of chips.” / “That’ll be about ten minutes.” Lindsay handed him a ticket, “You’re number 22.” He snatched the ticket away and walked towards the door in heavy I’ve-got-the-shits steps. People only ever seemed to order when they were starving and the extra wait of ten minutes seemed outrageous to them. Lindsay started to hate him on principle of his rudeness and the fact that his t-shirt wasn’t long enough to hide what she didn’t want to see of his speedoes. / / “See ya!” Lindsay balled up her apron and threw it into the washing basket. She had been dreaming about this all day. She walked out through the front exit to savour the freedom and remind herself what the world looked like when you weren’t behind a counter. The world looked great. Afternoon sun was giving everything a makeover. She shook her towel out of her bag and yanked off her t-shirt. Be-gone o odour of chicken fat, be-gone scent of battered fish. / There were lots of people on the boardwalk and plenty of people at the tide line but there was no one in the water. Further down the beach, there were lifesavers with mega phones. Lindsay walked past the outdoor shower and kicked her thongs off. The queue of people were all facing the water and looking out with hands shading their eyes as if myopia could be lifted by resting your hand on your brow. / “What’s going on?” Lindsay asked an older lady. / “Shark alarm,” the woman answered, “they’ve closed the beach until further notice.” / “When did it happen?” / “Just a few minutes ago, they’re still clearing swimmers out down that end.” / Lindsay followed the woman’s finger to the pacing lifesavers. / Beach closed. That’d be bloody right! / She turned around and trudged off to the bus stop.

• Fish and Chips at Queenscliff
  by Lisa Kenny

  A group of Bubblers went down to Queenscliff today for fish and chips. Let me introduce them to you. / 1. We’ll start with m…

  A group of Bubblers went down to Queenscliff today for fish and chips. Let me introduce them to you. / 1. We’ll start with me… embarrassing I know, but if I didn’t put it here, someone else would’ve only put a worse one up ;) / John Conway was the photographer / / 2. Jared Revell / / 3. Neil Boucher / / 4. Larry Davis / / 5. Reg Lyons / / 6. John Conway / / 7. John’s wife Sue…. she was cold / / 8. Hans Kawitzki / / 9. Gretel Kawitzki / / 10. Heather Hartkamp was cold too / / 11. Al Miller / / 12. Al’s wife Suzi / / 13. Dave Miller / / 14. Dave’s better half Maureen / / 15. Ron Showler / / 16. Waving goodbye… Sue and I got to go for a ride on one of the old trains / / Kathryn Potempski and her husband John were also there but kept wandering off and didn’t get their photo taken!

• "A chip off the ole block"
  by Birgitta

  Just wanted to let you guys know that my daughter / Heidi, is here at Redbubble. Now go show her some love! ;) She’ll be / adding mor…

  Just wanted to let you guys know that my daughter / Heidi, is here at Redbubble. Now go show her some love! ;) She’ll be / adding more to her portfolio as time allows. Thanks in advance if you / stop by. :) (And if any of you have kids here-be sure to link them.) / / Take care, / -B / Heidi

• Your favourite Australian country pubs
  by Darren Stones

  G’day blokes and sheilas. Let’s cut to the chase and get down to tin tacks. After a few too many beers or cocktails we start to talk c…

  G’day blokes and sheilas. Let’s cut to the chase and get down to tin tacks. After a few too many beers or cocktails we start to talk crap. Some even talk crap before they hit the piss, but that’s another story. Aussie country pubs are like a magnet for weary travellers who need to whet their whistle with a few neck oils. I’ve been fortunate to be thirsty whilst travelling and just had to stop for a refresher or two. The Hotel Dorrigo is a pub I visited recently that just hit the spot. Stayed overnight and had some good pub tucker and of course a few grogs. Tell me about your favourite Aussie country pubs and what they have to offer. Did you have a good time there and a few too many?

• Addiction
  by Lois Romer

  Honey soy chips, chardonnay chocolate HELP!

  Honey soy chips, chardonnay chocolate HELP!

• The adventures of the Chip Bag
  by tuffcookie

  Jake loves plastic. He’s not taken a liking to chip bags. He got in on the loot while i was going through the halloween candy / !http://im…

  Jake loves plastic. He’s not taken a liking to chip bags. He got in on the loot while i was going through the halloween candy /

• Send your name to Moon : NASA mission : Hurry!!!
  by React D

  Send Your Name To Moon The Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter is NASA’s next big mission to the Moon, & it will launch later this year. It…

  Send Your Name To Moon The Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter is NASA’s next big mission to the Moon, & it will launch later this year. It will carry a camera that will have 50 cm resolution on the surface of the Moon, a laser altimeter for mapping the lunar topology, a radiation detector to map out the radiation environment of the Moon, and more. But there’s something else it can carry as well: your name. NASA is putting a microchip onboard LRO that will contain the names of anyone who submits them. Send them your own, or a relative, or someone you’re trying to impress. Click to send your name The deadline is June 27, 2008 for the submission of names. “I think this is a cute idea. It doesn’t hurt the mission, doesn’t add any real mass, but it can help inspire people about space travel and give them a sense of ownership. They even have a cute video about it.” Click to see the video / /

• Some Observations ....
  by Harry Murray

  First … I am not sure why folks have to fix things that just ain’t broken. Has anyone noticed that the Hershey’s Kiss … is no long…

  First … I am not sure why folks have to fix things that just ain’t broken. Has anyone noticed that the Hershey’s Kiss … is no longer … “kissed”? Nope it’s just another run of the mill, molded, piece of chocolate confection now. I don’t know when it happened but I think It happened in the past year or so. After 100 years they changed the way they make the product thinking we wouldn’t notice. Yup the kiss has a rounded top now that can’t possibly be formed from “dropping” as I’m almost certain they had been made for a century. Now you no longer have that tiny sliver that broke off as you were trying to get the kiss out of it’s wrapper. That’s actually what made me look very closely at it. I actually missed that little piece that would always fall off on my clothes or someplace. All my life … coming up on 52 years … I’ve licked my finger to pick that meaningless little piece of chocolate up. Now I have no reason to lick my finger. sigh Second … Toll House Cookies …. I am a die hard Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip person for cookies … THERE IS NO SUBSTITUTE! OK … I’ll confess there is one substitute … the Wilbur Chocolate Chip … but that is the ONLY substitute. But I STILL bake my cookie per the Toll House recipe on the back of that famous yellow bag … well mostly … sorta kinda … OK again I’ll confess I modify it a little … well … maybe more than a little. BUT I STILL MAKE ONE DAMN FINE … NESTLE TOLL HOUSE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE! Or do I? Well it is one damn fine cookie and I have perfected it over the years and I have a very hard time eatting any other. Alas I have become a cookie snob. The other week though, I got despartate for a cookie and I just didn’t feel like baking … soooooooo … for the first time ever I bought some of that NTH cookie dough in the yellow roll. I put it on the baking tray … and it needed something so I topped each one with some pecans. I tossed them in the oven and waited patiently for 10 minutes … Ding …. My cookies were done … I took them out of the oven … and was shocked. No … actually I was mortified. What were these thin freaky looking little things? They weren’t like my NTH cookies???? So I tasted one … hmmmmmm. Well that was a waste of 20 minutes. Being the cookie addict that I am, I ate them but I did not enjoy them at all. I ate them under duress and I needed that FIX. If that is the official NTH cookie … well … it sucks. Soooo … I don’t know what the hell it is I’ve been baking all my life but I will never ever insult it again by calling it a Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie … sorry folks at Nestle … you make a great chip … but you missed the boat big time with the cookie recipe. Give me a call, I’ll sell you a REAL cookie recipe …. for only a million bazillion dollars! Like I said … I bake one damn fine cookie! Just some observations … Today would be my Dad’s 78th birthday … Happy Birthday Dad. He never got to taste my cookie in it’s final form. I think he would have liked it.

• AGIdeas Conference 2007
  by EllieKat

  Wow…! I was inspired and challenged and I learned the value of my own skill as a graphic designer. The variation in the speakers’ work …

  Wow…! I was inspired and challenged and I learned the value of my own skill as a graphic designer. The variation in the speakers’ work – Chip Kidd to Paul Davis to Istvan Orosz (look him up) was so extreme yet they are all talented and produce incredible work. Chip spoke right into me when he told of loose briefs – put him in front of a blank canvas with a ‘do whatever you want’ kind of brief and he’ll just stare at that canvas. Then stare some more. Then drink. Then perhaps cry. I’m exactly the same! / It’s so great to be reminded that professionals are actual people who not only get designers’ block but also produce work that no one likes! Some of the speakers’ made me feel like I shouldn’t even try but going back to my original sentence, I’ve learned the value of my own skill and style, no matter how green it may currently be. Chip Kidd can’t draw and Paula Scher doesn’t use white space. Istvan Orosz draws like Escher and David Tartakover simply makes what he sees… And Paul Davis just sketches.

• THE CHIMERA! or "the Future in Video Gaming"
  by Darman

  What’s a Journal? / Your Journal is a great place to communicate with your fans and the people who are interested in your work. People who…

  What’s a Journal? / Your Journal is a great place to communicate with your fans and the people who are interested in your work. People who are watching you will be notified each time you update your Journal. I guess you could use it for that. Even though you comment on photo’s and have mass bubble mails to around a million people who don’t read them anyways. You know what, I think Honda should bulid a robot that looks like a chimera and it actually can breathe fire. But this fire is not your normal fire! It contains holographic updates of everything on RedBubble!! NO WAY!! So that way instead of having to ACTUALLY click on the Bubblemail link, AND THEN click on the Email itself. Now you can sit on the couch while eating your every so cool Diet Potato Chips (Hoax put on by Lays, chips ingredients consist of Isoprene thus the chipper [Def: One who eats Potato Chips] chews on the chip. And just keeps chewing…) while watching your favourite movie, “Gone With the Wind.” You can simply Clap, or Snap and aforementioned Chimera will then Spew fire and display all of your favourite RedBubble updates. Way cooler than reading a journal…like this one.

• Solo Exhibition At FISH OUT OF WATER
  by Brita Lee Miklouho-Maklai

  I’ll be having a solo exhibition during the SALA festival 1-17 August. The venue is a wonderful gourmet fish and seafood cafe called ’...

  I’ll be having a solo exhibition during the SALA festival 1-17 August. The venue is a wonderful gourmet fish and seafood cafe called ‘Fish out of Water’ at 117 King William Rd, Hyde Park. The title is ‘DREAMS OF WATER’ and I’ll try to upload the invite in case any Adelaide Red Bubblers want to come along. Fish out of Water is open from 12 to 9 pm every day. There is also rumoured to be a group show during SALA at the Tuxedo Cat in Synagogue Place, off Rundle St. So far all I know about it is that I’m in it. / I’ll update you all as soon as I know any more. (I hope soon!)

• A chip off the old block!!
  by James Millward

  My daughter has recently joined us here on RB and put up some of her own photos. Why not ha…

  My daughter has recently joined us here on RB and put up some of her own photos. Why not have a look and see what you think. I know I’m biased but I think they are pretty good.