At home and at work.
And in the kitchen, and in Adrian's room, and now in the garden as well.
I started it and I'm not sorry.
I even have a red and green South Sydney tank at work with my two little men - Shane and Nathan, who were kindly named by my cousin's child, Matthew.
At that time, almost everyone who played for Souths was called either Shane or Nathan, and he spent a whole game one day, reading and re-reading his footy cards, thus making,
"Shaaaaaaane and Naaaaaaaaathan" his mantra for the day.
We lost.
Probably because of Shane and Nathan.
One day, Matthew visited me at work, and I was delighted to be able to tell him that the fish were indeed named, Shaaaaane and Naaaaaaathan.
Nathan's the smaller of the two.
They come to me for kisses through the glass.
They really are very well loved fishies.
One year when I was on holidays, Vyja discovered that one of the fish had done a pooh which was the very same three colours as their food flakes.
Imagine! A neopolitan crap! And me not there to see it!
Of course, to Vyja, the obvious move was to grab a tissue and fish it out and save it for me.
She kept it for over a week.
I love Vyja.
Her generosity of spirit is certainly not restricted to Hallmark style gestures.
I confess that earlier this year, Shane did a spectacular red and green pooh for me on the eve of our disastrous Round 1.
At the time I thought he meant to tell me that Souths would shit on the Roosters. Unfortunately, he was simply warning me that it it was going to be a shithouse season for Souths and that those arsehole Roosters would be the cause.
Imagery and symbolism.
I've decided to tell you this today because this morning I had a patient who, although outwardly conservative, went on the tell me that she and her husband have put off a major European trip until their "Betta" (fighting fish) dies.
My eyes widened in understanding and admiration.
She went on to explain that in the mean time, they take them on holidays with them and set them up in their hotel room.
I love meeting people like this, I really really do.
These are the people who should inherit the Earth, not those Geek fellows.
She reminded me of the power pussy business woman who came in once, interacted with me without a trace of personality or humour.
As she was leaving, I saw into her purse to where most women keep a picture of their children.
A rat.
She had a photograph of her pet rat in her wallet.
You can look at someone and assume, but you never never know.
Ever.
I couldn't help but ask her about it, and once she realised that I wasn't grossed out, she told me how her husband would get up early each morning to let the rattie out and how it would sit between the both of them in bed and share their toast.
And why not?
Bread and water so easily becomes toast and tea.
Anyway, I'm glad I've taken the time to remember all this, because it will make what I'm about to tell you just that little bit less strange.
Recently, the fish thing has spilled out into our garden.
We now have koi as well.
Yoga Boy wanted a pond and a meditation garden, Jeff has loved koi and Japanese style anything as long as I can remember.
So, they built a pond with a waterfall and the boys chose three fish:
The fish formerly known as Tito
- A lovely white and black tipped boy.
- Unwisely named by Jeffrey for a UFC fighter.
- Inclined to jump out of the pond for no good reason and lie around in the dirt for hours in such a revolting fashion that none of our three cats will go near him.
- Renamed Herring von Bismark by me in a bid to reduce the energetic aggression surrounding his name.
So far, so good. He has remained mostly submerged since the change of handle.
Poe
- Named for Edgar Allen or Master Po from Kung Fu
- A plain orangey thing with no personality traits worthy of a mention.
- Main claim to fame = found one day on our footpath keeping company with Phoebe the cat.
- Neither could offer any reasonable explanation.
Hanuman
- Named for the Indian monkey god but not imbued with his pizazz or reputation.
- I think he's orange, but I'm not sure.
After a few weeks, we made a family trip to the koi farm in order to buy some water ager, but no fish.
We returned with three fish.
Not sure about the water ager.
Yossarian/Yo
- One large, very attractive white and orange boy.
- The catwalk model koi
- Briefly revered as saviour of the pond due to his size and beauty
- Had a fairly considerable fall from grace and is now under threat of being sold at auction for a tidy loss of $70.
- Panics the other fish and swims at full speed into the sides of the pond repeatedly.
- Dumb like a stump
- So good looking, yet so stupid. Who'd have thought?
Initially extremely unpopular...
I arrived at the koi farm with the ambition of seeking out the ugliest fish there.
I already knew his name, Pfuitsch (pronounce pfoit-sh) - a Dad word meaning foul of gross.
Pfuitsch
- butt ugly mother fucker
- looks like a mullet/changed salmon with slimy scale rot
- easily distinguished by me from his slightly less ugly brother by his inner lips being snow white and very very disturbing when he sticks them out of the water
- OK, he's not the best looking kid on the block, but he has the most personality
- provider of all merriment, entertainment and hilarity
- grows on people
- such a typical Simone pick that Dad had only to glance at him to know he was mine
- not being sold at auction due to stupidity
- my gorgeous girl
- bright yellow with black markings and is absolutely wearing a bandit mask/nerd glasses- she looks great in glasses too
- often described by Yoga Boy as looking like someone dropped a banana peel into the pond
- sweet natured and smart
- not being sold at auction due to stupidity
Yesterday, Jeff was busy finishing off an ad that he's making and unwisely left yoga Boy and I to our own devices at the koi farm....more water ager ;O)
OK, maybe one more fish...
But this was Jeff's choice and Adrian remembers which ones he had liked out of the hundreds there....
So, he grabbed a net and after pulling up a few fakes, he produced a fish Jeff had admired a very great deal.
For a split second, I hid my shock and uneasiness from my brother as he exclaimed over this thing lying in the net just inches from his hand.
But, with me knowing that Adrian had plans to pat and hand feed this thing most days for the next 20 years, I felt obliged to divulge the following information,
"I'm not surprised he liked that one, it looks exactly like his dick!"
There's no really good way to say something like that, but that doesn't lift the burden of responsibility, does it?
It had to be done. It just did.
And seriously, I'm talking exactly.
It was indecent and I think I may have blushed.
Yoga Boy, being the trouper he is, replied with,
"Well we'll have to get it now! You gotta admire that about the guy. He wants a fish who looks like his dick."
I talked him out of it because, well, go back and read that again, but also because they'd already chosen a fish on their last visit (without me) and named him:
Swampy
- ugly enough that he might have been my completely my choice - freckly, multi-coloured and irregular
- calm during long car journeys
- briefly named Sanjuro during the Wank Dynasty circa 6:12-6:13 pm
- personality undefined as yet
Scummy
- kinda blotchy and weird looking, possesses lots of scum which trails enchantingly from her body
- a girlie girl
- since named Maya by Yoga Boy
So many comments, so little time...
I'm sure it won't surprise any of you that at 3:45, I spotted them putting back on their shoes and grabbing their keys so that they could go and fetch home Jeff's orange penis koi after all.
Toshiro
- I won't describe him for obvious reasons, but if you come over and exclaim at his beauty or size, you're going to have to excuse my reaction.
Toshiro? Such a dick head.
FFS.
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