Jack Druce Comedian and Writer

Never Question The Brick.

Hey! Thanks for reading this. I’ll post one of these every week. I write everyday and I guess it is stupid not to share some of it. It’ll probably be a mix of funny stuff and just stuff I’ve been thinking about. If there are spelling mistakes please don’t be mean to me on twitter.

My house is clean for the first time in a while and it’s making me very happy.

I’ve lived in the same house for the three years I’ve been in Melbourne. I love it a lot but it’s been a total mess that whole time.

The best way to describe my living situation is it’s like all the overwhelming sadness of living in a crack den, without any of that delicious crack.

It’s made me wonder how crack dens start, is it all about crack from the very beginning or is it just a bunch of dudes who hate cleaning, then one day it gets so bad they all go ‘This is terrible, we are going to need something to take the edge off.”

The other day I was thinking maybe we shift our focus, instead of making it a nice house just aim to make it a fun haunted house, like in a theme park. It’s good to have realistic goals, we’re a long way from presentable but we’re pretty close to spooky.

I think you get so used to mess that it’s only when someone comes over that you can see it for what it is. Someone was over recently, and they said ‘Hey, there is no light in your bathroom, but there’s a very large inflatable crocodile wearing a stethoscope leaning against the toilet, and because it’s so dark, that crocodile is almost certainly covered in piss… what’s that about?’

I said, ‘oh that’s Croco-doc.’

Which would have been a fine answer had the question been:

‘Hey Jack, cool toilet crocodile, what should I call him.”

I read once that if you keep chickens, and you introduce a new chicken into the coop, all the other chickens will peck it to death, but if you wait till all the chickens are sleeping and then you introduce the new one, the chickens will wake up, and go, ‘Oh hey, I’ve never seen you, I guess you must must belong here. I think when you live in a share house for a while a similar thing happens.

There is a brick on the tile floor on my kitchen, it’s right in the middle of the floor.

It’s been there for 6 months, I step over it every morning to make breakfast. I’ve never once questioned the brick. There are no other bricks in my house. At some point a person moved the brick from outside, and who am I to question whoever that was.

A bird has started coming into the house and shitting everywhere while nobody is home. I like the bird, I like how brave it must be to come in the first place, and I also like how frightened it is when it realizes it doesn’t know how do get out again. Birds typically know not to go into houses, which makes me made me worry the house has gotten so bad that the bird mistook it for a cave or hollow tree. It fly’s all over the kitchen and knocks stuff everywhere, yesterday I had an encounter with the bird, after a few minutes of it flapping around the kitchen it made it’s way to the window I had opened for it. It perched on the ledge and looked at me, I looked at the mess of my house through the fresh eyes of the bird and felt embarrassment. You should never feel inferior to a bird. As the Bird got ready to fly away I gave it a look that said ‘Take me with you’.

I made a commitment then not to live like this anymore. It’s hard not to take time to reflect on your living conditions when your cleaning bird shit off a slow cooker.

It’s a balancing act, because I hate my house, but I live with my best friends, and hanging out with them at the house is the most I’ve laughed at anything in my life.

One thing my housemates do for fun is deliberately watch bad movies and then act like we are geniuses for noticing they are bad. It can be hard picking the right bad movie. I once watched ‘Real Steal’. A movie about Hugh Jackman and his son training a robot to fight in a boxing match. I was sure I had stuck gold, it had all the ingredients of a perfect bad movie. Then, to my disappointment, I actually liked it a lot. I found it weirdly touching and by the end I was throwing punches in the air with excitement as the hero robot beat up the other robot. I’ve spoken to other people who did exactly the same thing, I think a large amount of its views on Netflix have been from ironic douchbags who reluctantly loved it.

Even when the bad movie choice is perfect it is still a very dangerous game. You have to keep saying funny stuff at all times, because if there is even a MINUTE of silence. The illusion of fun fades away and the absolute fucking horror of your life sets in as you all realise in the same moment, oh we are just 3 depressed men sitting in our own filth watching Kangaroo Jack… again.

 

 

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