1 September 2013

Dual Danes, an Inflatable Yellow Duck & Double Trouble

I went down to the pool of the condominium in which I live this morning for my now ritualistic and exceptionally slow swimming of laps. I am trying to burn off blubber. When I arrived I was greeted with the sight of my deranged Danish neighbor Jens floating on the water. He was floating on what we Australians would refer to as a lilo. 

A lilo is also known as an inflatable air mattress or an air-bed. These are also now very commonly made to be pool accessories and they are referred to as 'pool lounges'.

The word 'lilo' is not being recognized by the automatic spell-check function on my laptop. It first placed a red-score underneath the word, which indicates a mis-spelling - and it then endeavoured to change it to the word 'milo'. 

Milo is a chocolate malt drink that was invented in Australia and it is coincidentally a very popular drink here in Singapore. It may in fact be the national drink. Singaporeans really love it. The name lilo is a trademark brand name and it has no other meaning. The trademark name is actually "Li-Lo" - but the inflatable devices are branded and are commonly known as 'lilos' to we Australians.

Many people with small children - or small children themselves - would more likely associate the name "Lilo" with the animated Walt Disney film titled "Lilo and Stitch".  I know very little about this movie other than the fact that Lilo is a main character - I think female - and it or she is not an inflatable pool accessory or an air mattress. 

I do not generally watch animated Disney film productions.

They are an abomination.

The lilo that the great Dane was floating upon was in the shape of a very large duck and it was yellow. Jens is a huge and flabby man and such is his size that the lilo upon which he was lying was semi submersed. 

I have described Jens many times before but I will do so once again. Imagine if you can an enormous and fat and hairy Viking with wild and unkempt hair and a bushy red beard. His eyes are normally bulging and he has crooked little yellow teeth. The Dane normally roars around the place on a Harley Davidson motorcycle wearing a motorcycle helmet that has two small horns stuck to the top of it. Like a bull. 

This is Jens. 

I have never before seen him attired in only a pair of swimming trunks but I was unsurprised to see that his whole upper body was covered in thick mats of hair and there were what looked like prison tattoos scattered over his torso. I have used the term 'prison tattoos' because they are crude and non-artistic works that appear to have been done by someone other than a trained tattoo practitioner. Someone who I strongly suspect is most likely a convicted serial killer in a Copenhagen prison and who used the ink from a ballpoint pen and a blunt needle.

I know good tattoo art when I see it as my son Tom has much of it. He is all inked up.

"Good morning Jens" I announced as I placed my towel on one of the pool-side chairs and started to put on my swimming goggles.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the word "Modderfokker" bellowed behind me. I was so startled that I dropped my swimming goggles.

When I turned around - to both my shock and horror - there was another Jens. This one was fully clothed and was holding a half-drunk bottle of beer. 

"Dat is my tween brodder skeepy" the lunatic Dane responded.

"Jaysus there are two of you?"

"Ya" the Dane cackled.

Jens then roared some guttural Scandinavian sentences to the other Dane who was on the lilo, and he then belched and took a large swig of his beer.

"For fuck sake Jens" I replied.

"It is seven thirty in the morning and you are drinking beer? And you have a twin?"

"Ya skeepy modderfokker" he responded.

Jens calls me 'skeepy' in reference to 'Skippy' who was a famous television kangaroo. He calls everyone 'modderfokker'. Jens - not Skippy. Kangaroos do not talk. 

My automatic spell-check function keeps changing the word "skeepy" to "sleepy" and it is beginning to really piss me off. 

Fuck. It just did it again.

Jens twin brother had now paddled over to the side of the pool and in his endeavor to extract himself from the yellow duck lilo he spilled out of the vessel and was momentarily submersed. This act caused Jens to cackle insanely again and as his brother rose to the surface a further tirade of guttural Danish was exchanged between the twins.

"Dis is Dag" Jens said to me as the twin paddled his way to the side of the pool. 

"Dis is Dag?" I repeated.

"Ya dat is Dag" said Jens.

"Ya I arm Dag" said Dag.

The name 'Dag" was pronounced "Darg" by both brothers. 'Dis' is of course 'this', 'dat' is 'that' and 'arm' is 'am'. They are spoken thus when one is Danish and mad and is speaking in English. 

Writing the words phonetically is sending the spell check function of my laptop into overdrive.

Jens twin brother Dag heaved himself out of the pool and then lurched over to where Jens and I were standing and then he grabbed my towel off the seat and he started to dry himself.

"Hey that is my towel Dag" I said.

This elicited a further manic cackle from both of the Danes.

Now that he was up closer I could see that Dag was even hairier than I first thought. His chest and arms and back were covered in mats of thick and dark hair. It was nasty. Dag attempted to hand my now sodden towel back to me but I let it fall to the ground. I am loath to touch it now that it has been in contact with his body and I shall likely have to burn it.

Jens began explaining to me that his brother Dag was here visiting him from Copenhagen when the two Security Guards of my complex - the be-turbanned Indian Sikhs Raj and Raj - suddenly appeared poolside. They looked resplendent in their guard uniforms and they marched in complete unison up to where we were standing. When they were about a meter away they stopped and snapped to attention. Then - as is now unfortunately always the case - they gave me elaborate and indeed extravagant salutes.

The Dane that is Dag looked quite bemused and his insane brother Jens looked a little alarmed. Both Raj and Raj are aware that I have had my run-ins with Jens before and they have taken a vow to protect me from the madman. Mr. Tan - the Building Manager of the complex in which I live - incorrectly informed the Raj's that I was someone of importance in our Condominium - which I am not - and since they started on the job they have been incessantly saluting me.

"At ease guys" I commanded.

Saying this is the only way I can get the Raj's to stop the salutes.

"Good morning Raj and Raj" I said.

"Good morning Mr. Peter sir" both of the Raj's replied as they dropped their salutes.

Jens was eyeing the security guards warily. The Raj's are very big boys and Jens has called them 'modderfokkers' many times before.  My relationship with Jens has been checkered in the past - to say the least - and the Raj's are well aware of this. I have previously instructed both Raj and Raj to shoot the Dane if necessary but they informed me that they were not permitted to carry guns in Singapore and they could not do so. 

I have written about the Jens saga many times before so there is no point in elaborating again.

"Is everything being alrightest Mr. Peter Sir" a Raj asked.

"It is fine thanks Raj" I replied.

"This is Jens twin brother Dag who is visiting from Denmark"

Raj and Raj nodded politely, Dag grunted and Jens shuffled about a little nervously muttering 'modderfokker' to himself.

We all stood there silent for a moment. The Raj's were at ease but they had a protective and assured air about them and Jens nervousness seemed to intensify. Despite the vigorous rubbing that he had given himself with my towel, the Dane who is Dag was still dripping from his mass of body and facial hair.

"Did you know that in the English language a dag is a term than can be used to describe someone who is a bit nerdy and it is also a matted piece of shit that hangs from a sheep arse?" I said to the Danes and the Raj's.

I said this because there was a bit of an awkward silence and also because it is true. 

In Australian slang a dag is indeed a person who is considered to be somewhat uncool. The term 'daglock' refers to a dung-caked lock of dried faeces tangled in the wool that hangs from the hindquarters of a sheep. It is most commonly abbreviated to the word 'dag'. 

The word 'faeces' is also not being recognized by the spell-check function on my laptop computer. That is weird because it is most definitely a real word that means excrement or shit. 

I am also very serious about the Australian-English uses of the word dag. 

If you have any doubt look it up for yourself.

My comments elicited some more guttural Scandinavian between the twin Danes - and the Raj's seemed to tense up a little. 

"Vee are going now skeepy modderfokker" Jens announced.

"Please get your brother to remove that monstrosity of a duck from the pool first please Jens and also ask him whether he has used the pool as a toilet." I replied.

Jens has a history in such despicable and disgusting behavior - which I have once again written about previously - so I will not repeat it here.

Jens grunted and cast a nervous look at Raj and Raj whilst the brother Dag shuffled back to the pool and removed the duck lilo. Jens did not give me an answer to my question. 

Then both Danes and the duck lilo quickly departed.

"Would you mind asking the maintenance guy to throw a couple of extra buckets of chlorine in the pool please Mr. Raj and Mr. Raj?" I asked.

I had decided to err on the side of caution and forego my swim this morning.

"Could you please also get him to pick that up for me and burn it immediately" I enquired  - pointing to my wet towel that was on the ground.

"Most certainly we will Mr. Peter" one Raj replied.

"Thanks guys" I said.

They were still saluting as I walked to the lift lobby and went back up to my apartment.

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