Woah, Nice Mangoes

Dear Elizabeth (a devoted reader writes),

I’ve been living in Canberra for five years now, and have noticed that this place really sucks ass in winter. Not only is it impossible to go outside without simultaneously contracting both frostbite and sunburn during the daytime, but getting home after a night on the turps is a real death sport. For instance, the other night I almost died when I was forced to hide in transit behind a naffy piece of progressive art in Civic for two minutes after seeing a wanker from the other branch who I didn’t want to talk to. Unfortunately, the metal statue adhered to the palms of my hands and I had to relinquish several fingers to the icy edifice I’d been grasping upon my departure.

Do you know where all the joy goes when it leaves Canberra in early March? Does it relocate to Sydney like everything else?

And, more importantly, how do I reclaim my lost fingers from the ACT Government?

Digitless APS 6
Belconnen

I can empathise, my APS friend. Whilst jogging in a Canberran frost last June, I myself contracted hypothermia of the inner lungs and brain freeze, which subsequently triggered a deep dependency on alcohol and required an intense program of therapeutic drug use. By the time my lung and brain disorder had righted themselves and I had regained full consciousness, I found myself undergoing terrible withdrawal episodes on one of the lesser known landmasses in the Philippines.

However, contrary to popular belief, Canberran joy does not relocate to Sydney for the winter months, even if half the Canberran population does.

There are certain measures for the so-called “joy-index” of a city. As a professional statistician, I firmly believe that the most accessible measure of joy-index is found in the fruit aisle of every supermarket, where the availability of mangoes is a reliable indicator. For example, if you measure out your joy in mangoes, Canberra scores a sorry zero for many of the winter months.

So, to rephrase your question in these terms: where do Australian mangoes go in winter?

Circumstantial evidence points to the Island of Negros in the Philippines where, strolling through the supermarket the other day, I noticed a sign for Australian mangoes in the fruit section. Closer inspection revealed the largest, juiciest specimens I had ever seen, which were on sale for around $A2.60/kg.

Appalled by the way our government had so blatantly pimped off Australian happiness to foreign investors, I got out my permanent texta and scrawled:

GO ON, HAVE SOME MORE CANBERRAN LIFEBLOOD YOU PINOY FASCISTS

on the pricing sign, before having to hightail it from Gloria’s supermarket police.

While I am maintaining a picket line at the check-out everyday on principle, I’m afraid there’s little I can do for you APS 6, short of sending a mango or two back to Australia. Unfortunately, stringent Australian customs laws mean that these mangoes would probably be intercepted by the AFP at Mascot in the biggest police operation since the early 90s, when Manly cop shop went on that massive drug offensive that never quite made it to the papers until a couple of years later.

In the meantime, you can pick up your fingers at the ACT Government Shopfront for a small administration fee.