Ethel Chop: On for Young and Old
Ethel Chop is described, on her own website, as ‘Australia’s favourite octogenarian’. The following are excerpts from her controversial 2007 ‘self-help’ book, ‘Strain Your Gherkins’.
Just for You Kids
Hello, kids! Ethel Chop here. Ever wondered how to stay out of trouble, but still make mischief at the same time? Then you sound like spoilt little trouble-makers; wicked sprouts only interested in getting up to no good. I like the cut of your fiendish jibs.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re not my children, otherwise you’d be whipped off to a boarding school quicker than a cane spanking. But, kiddies, the best way to have fun and stay clean as a whistle, is to blame everything on a sibling. That way you can simply say, ‘I didn’t put Cayenne pepper in your dusting powder, Mummy, it must have been Robert,’ or ‘Sally was the one who set fire to Daddy’s BMW. Isn’t she naughty?’
My silly old milksop sister Edna was held responsible for millions of things I did: putting worms in Mother’s tea; letting our prize bull loose; painting male genitalia on the shearing shed. Boy, did she cop a walloping for that one! Hardly a day went by when the backs of Edna’s legs weren’t red raw. And the thing was, Edna rarely said boo to a goose! Oh, what happy-go-lucky days they were.
But, kids, if you’re one of those sad mites who doesn’t have a little brother or sister, then tell Mummy and Daddy to get cracking. Tell them to think of the Shadow Minister for families, Tony Abbott. Ooh, that ought to get them in the mood. Mmm…Tony Abbott. But until that sib turns up, my depraved little imps, try replacing Daddy’s favourite pate with Go-Cat and see if he notices the difference. My bet is he won’t. And later, when he’s laid up in agony and weak as a kitten, you can hit him for money or a new toy. Anyway, I hope I’ve been of some help, you heinous little Beelzebubs.
Cruel To Be Kind
When you’re as shapely as I am, plenty of people try to have a crack. Even people who should be at home with a bag on their heads. And, look, I don’t bother making up excuses. Why beat around the bush? If a bloke asks me out and I’m not interested, I’ll just tell them straight up, ‘Are you out of your mind!? I’d rather eat mud.’
Bert from Bingo drove me home the other night. We pulled up to my duplex and he asked to come in for a minute, as he was ‘not feeling well’. Not feeling well! I know what he wanted to feel, all right – his hands on my polyester brunch-coat. I said, ‘Bert, you need to go home and cool off.’ Because Bert’s no day at the beach and, if you must know, I don’t put out on the first date.
But Bert didn’t go home. He just sat outside in his orange Torana. And you know something? He’s still there! It’s been weeks and I can’t get rid of him! I’ve been out there several times to talk some sense into him: ‘Go away, Bert,’,‘Clear off,’ etc.! But he just sits there in some moody funk, staring into space. And what’s worse, he’s developing quite a body odour problem – every time I open the front door, the smell makes my eyes smart. I’m really going through the Glen 20, let me tell you. I said, ‘Bert, wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home, in a bath?’ But he’s not one to take a hint, the sulky brute. And it’s getting to be like a Hitchcock film out there with all those gulls.
Last week I went out, I said, ‘All right, Bert, I give up, you can come inside if it makes you happy.’ But he just gave me the silent treatment, as if to say, ‘It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?!’ Oh, it’s like a stab in the heart the way he shuts me out. I said, ‘Why don’t you just tell me what you want, then’, but oh no, with him it’s got to be this twisted psychological guessing game.
I always thought Bert was a decent fellow. At the club he’s always chatty and sociable. And clean. It just goes to show how falling in love can change people, doesn’t it? I wish he’d clear off. Next time I go to Bingo, I’m taking the bus.
Still, I have noticed his mood seems to be improving this week, because he’s actually started smiling! It began last week with a little smirk, then a bit of a grin, and it’s been getting bigger and bigger every day. He’s positively beaming now, he’s quite the Cheshire Cat! It’s not what you’d call a movie star smile – it’s twisted to one side, and a bit gummy. But I’m hardly going to point that out to him, am I? That would be cruel. I’m just glad he’s cheered up. Now all we have to do is get those arms and legs moving.
‘Strain Your Gherkins: Ethel Chop’s Guide to Life in a Modern World’ is still around if you look hard enough. Details, along with beauty tips and several startling photographs, can be found at Ethel’s website.
Andrea Powell is a Melbourne-based writer-performer, and the long-time manager of Ethel Chop.
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