Friday, March 31, 2006
I've even tried braiding my toenails.
Araman’s Net User Note: Leaning over the edge of a building – reaching for the Laptop on the balcony below, I typed in this blog with the headpiece of a garden rake – while distracting it’s owner with cleaning up the remains of a dead cat I left on his doorstep, knock and running on his door to ingeniously type my blog from the roof above.
I walk the streets barefoot – for no shoes are able to fit me. If there is a time where I must cover my feet, newspaper, cardboard or even Tourist pamphlets will do – but of course, only on the rare occasion. It’s not the length of my feet, the discomfit my blisters cause me or that my toes grow out from both my heels, it’s that I haven’t clipped my toenails in over 4 years.
You can’t imagine the vast amount of awkward legal and social situations my toenails have put me in. The other day for example, I was standing in the cue at Centrelink, wondering to myself why nobody at all in the building was smiling. Really, by simply looking at it from a mathematical standpoint, the laws of Probability should have it that at least one other person be smiling. But No, this was not to be. Why? I’m not sure. I Certainly had reason to smile – I was here picking up my fortnightly benefit payment of $110 – and straight after that I’d be pissed, off my chops behind the Ridgey Didge Pie Shop, scuttling and clawing my way through their skip bin for any remnants of discarded pastry. Standing well behind the white line – waiting to be called forth by the Receptionist, a mother, making her way back from dropping her child in the play pen, tripped on the pinkie toenail of my left foot. There she fell straight in front of me - to fall on her armful of documents and pens, miraculously, somehow lodging one of her red bens halfway up her nostril. Initially I was shocked. It never looks good when I, or any homeless person is standing next to, or behind a person that has just fallen over spectacularly – people think that we were the ones to push them – purposely with malevolent intent. Upon viewing the pen halfway down her nose, my shock changed to amusement – I started laughing, (naturally, the only one in Centrelink to do so) and I started to realise that my laughter made me look like the one responsible for the situation.
The Police were called; I was interviewed but acquitted of any wrongdoing. I had witnesses. People saw the woman trip – which I was very lucky and thankful for. So I returned later that day to collect my Centrelink payment and got drunk behind the pie store as I had planned. Unfortunately I found no Pastry scraps.
Another awkward situation was the time I intended to open a bank account with the Commonwealth. On my way there, I followed a lady into the revolving doors of the bank – in an attempt to enter the same space of moving doorway as the woman, I accidentally clipped my nail firmly into the lower section of her dress – tearing it from her shoulders, causing her to scream and instinctively drop to the ground where we were both taken care of by the approaching glass pane behind us – two people, in what seemed a spinning jet engine. Needless to say, I passed up on getting the Bank Account.
Composed by Joel at 2:19 pm 
ARAMAN PROOLKS
An atypical itinerant homeless man. Honest, entertaining and refreshingly original.
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