The Spore Score

In Sydney, as in other parts of the world, the weather has stopped being the weather and has become non-stop-acts-of-a-petulant-god.

It rained a bit recently. When I say a bit, I mean the Malaysian I know is starting to feel at home. If Malaysians don’t have concussive rain fall on their heads on a semi-regular basis they dry out and crack… true story, anyway, it rained so much it broke my car.

My car had a sly leak that I fixed using nothing but neglect. For the first couple of years, whenever it rained, I’d get a pool of water in the left or right foot-well. I couldn’t find what was causing it so I did what any good Australian male would do and ignored it. Well, not totally ignore, I’d chuck an old t-shirt into the puddle, let it soak it up and then wedge the shirt into the tray cover to dry out on the way home. My non-existent car washing regimen then came into play. It turns out that if you let enough leaves and compost collect in the nooks and crannies of your car, they will seal up leaks. This was all undone by Sydney’s recent deluge, though. It rained enough that it cleaned my car. Now it leaks again.

It rained so much that Emergency Contact and I are going to die like Brittany Murphy. Mould has appeared in places that mould shouldn’t be, like inside.