Monday, December 7, 2009

Quade was just confused

Rugby is a confusing game, with lots of laws to remember. Quade Cooper is not a smart man but he has been trying really, really hard to make sense of all those laws. Obviously the coach has been drumming in to him that you can steal so long as you are on your feet and you enter through the gate. Clearly he's taken this message to heart and applied it to his everyday life with a little spot of late night buglary. I think he should be applauded.

I think it would be good to have a reality show called Celebrity Burglar. Each week a new celebrity bursts in to someone's house and makes off with as much jewellery and appliances as possible before the homeowner goes nuts on them. They could be wearing masks Scooby Doo style, which would be pulled off to reveal Kamahl, Ian Thorpe or some chick from Home and Away. It would just be high tension all the way through.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Domestic Violence is Bad

I've often wished I could drive like Tiger but now he wishes he could drive like me. I've missed plenty of fairways but I've never missed the driveway and run into a fire hydrant. Then again, I've never had an angry wife chasing me with a three iron.

I'm not buying the "I was trying to get him out of the car" excuse. I don't know how they do things in Sweden but if I were her I'd try to just open the undamaged doors before smashing the crap out of the car with a golf club.

Tiger was clearly trying to escape domestic violence. In light of what he'd done I think it would be appropriate for her to slap him and maybe even throw a few plates or expensive vases. Golf club violence is however hard to justify. I got hit in the head with a golf club by my sister when I was six and it left a scar that I still have. Now I imagine that Tiger's wife is a fair bit stronger than my sister was when she was three. She could do some serious damage.

I really hope that when Tiger makes his return he has a cool scar like Harrison Ford. I hope he does some domestic violence ads too.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009


I wish I was posh so I could use the word spiffing. It only sounds right if you are posh or if you are Richie Benaud - "spiffing shot that!"

Monday, November 23, 2009

Treason Charges for Mitch's Mum?

Mitchell Johnson's bitch of a mum cost us the Ashes. She came out on the eve of the first test and instead of saying "I hope you do well son - knock over a few poms for me," she had a go at her son for never calling her and then had a huge swipe at his girlfriend on national TV.

You know why he never calls Vikki? It's because you're an evil cow.

Mitch is a sensitive young man who needs to be nurtured and loved but Vinegar Tits Vikki is clearly incapable of providing such support. No wonder he'd prefer to spend his time with his hot swimsuit model girlfriend.

The choice to inflict a huge emotional blow on the eve of the Ashes was just like a terrorist who sets off a bomb when the market is most crowded. Vikki's bomb didn't just hurt Mitch, it hurt the whole of Australia.

Mitch isn't a smart man. When he goes to bowl he should have only two things in his head - line and length. When he was also thinking "why is my mum being such a bitch?" it became too much. He forgot about line an length and he bowled like shit. Vikki's mum clearly cost us the series. We'll never know if she was paid off by the poms but I wouldn't put it past them after the whole mint scandal of the previous series. Dirty cheats.

If I were the Prime Minister I'd deport Vikki to Serbia so she could get together with Damir Dokic and spend the rest of their days being stupid fuckwits together.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Bullshit Bumper Stickers

I saw a car today with a sticker on the back saying "vegetarians save lives". Beneath this slogan it had pictures of a cow, a sheep, a pig and a chicken.

Clearly these people are deluded. If it were not for us meat eaters how many sheep do you think would be around? Sheep are stupid animals that would not survive for ten minutes without the protection of good meat eating humans. We let them roam around in the sunshine and eat all day, all the time making sure they don't have a grizzly death at the hands of a fox. I really don't think it is the vegetarians who are saving the lives of sheep.

I probably eat one cow, one lamb, one pig and about 50 chickens a year. Vegetarians would say I'm responsible for their deaths but surely I'm also responsible for their lives. Without the market for meat we wouldn't have cattle farms - we'd have massive soy bean plantations so all the self-righteous wankers could throw sad tofu sausages on the barbie.

If vegetarians had their way there would clealry be less animals. You're not saving anyone vegos - get a better sticker!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Ultimate Scothgard

I've heard of people putting Scotchgard on clothes and couches so they don't stain but I think it needs to go further. I want a product that repels EVERYTHING so whatever you spray it on never has to be washed again. 3M can you please get working on this?

I'm ridiculously lazy and don't want to waste my life dusting or hoovering. Washing the car is also stupid. I don't mind washing myself so much because showering is kind of fun and relaxing. If I had some Ultimate Scothgard I would never have to clean under my fingernails or anything like that though. Maybe I could add some to my sunscreen so I wouldn't get all sandy when I went to the beach. That would be mega ace.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Twitterature has gone mainstream

Now Penguin has a book of twitterature out. I came up with that idea months ago. Maybe some popwerful publisher is reading my blog and stealing the ideas. I wrote about forensic blue light paintings the other day. Maybe Penguin will publish an art book that reveals pictures when a blue light is shone on it. Cool.

I'm hoping Twitter dies soon. "What are you doing right now?" is a stupid question. Inevitably people are not participating in anything because they are too busy typing on their phone. It's kind of like tourists who spend their whole holiday with a video camera pressed to the face. Sad.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Chatswood Golf Club You Suck

I spent way to long playing a round of golf at Chatswood so I thought I'd write a letter to complain. The bit about the fat three legged labrador and me getting in the poo are fictitous but the I think they add colour.

Attention: John Watters
General Manager
Chatswood Golf Club

Dear John,

Last Saturday I had the choice of playing golf or going shopping with my girlfriend. Had I wanted to stand around for hours being completely bored out of my mind I would have chosen shopping. I chose golf. Regrettably I also chose Chatswood Golf Club.

Things didn’t start well. It took an entire hour from my appointed 1.48pm tee time until the time I got to hit off the 2nd tee. In what must surely be some kind of record there were five groups waiting on it. I was so incredibly angry I tried to belt the hell out of my drive and almost put my back out on the extended follow through.

Your 2338 metre front nine took 3 hours and 10 minutes to complete. That’s a speed of .754km/hr. My 85 year old grandma who has just had a knee replaced moves faster than that. In fact I’d bet the overweight 3 legged Labrador from down the road could hobble its oversized posterior around that nine far quicker.

The sun had set by the time we eventually made it up the 18th which meant I was late for dinner and completely in the poo. Naturally no one believed that it could take five and half hours to play a round of golf on a pissy little par 65 course and I was falsely accused of spending hours in the bar. Thanks a lot.

I believe your club entrance would benefit from the addition of a slow play warning sign. Like the bushfire warning signs it would have different severity levels depending on the day’s conditions. Perhaps the arrow could move from snail to sloth to tortoise to fat three legged lab to 85 year old grandma with a plastic knee. At least that way people would know what they are getting themselves in for.

If you are going to have five groups waiting on a tee you should also consider installing a few more chairs and providing a few old National Geographic magazines to read. When I visit my doctor’s surgery I find reading about the lost tribes of the Congo really makes the time fly by.

There are plenty of solutions to the problem of slow play. Why not slip the old codgers some Red Bull or maybe play a little Eye of the Tiger over the loudspeaker to get people pumped and moving faster? Personally I’d be happy if you just set dogs upon any group that didn’t keep up with the one in front.

I really don’t mind care what course of action you take but need to do something. While I may be the only person who is prepared to write a stupid letter I can assure you that you had a lot of very angry customers on Saturday. Among the comments I heard on the day were “this is f**ked”, “how can it take so f**king long?” and “why the f**k aren’t there any f**king marshals?” While I objected to their swearing they did raise some pretty pertinent questions.

If you can provide any answers I’d be most interested in hearing them.

Monday, October 12, 2009

World for All People

Many months ago Rick the Canadian delighted us with his attempts for world unity. After working non-stop for a year he has completed his awesome music video and website. My favourite bit has to be the flawless transition from Leonardo Dicaprio to Ghandi. Our Sydney pictures kick in at about the 3 minute mark though sadly the crotch grabbing picture didn't quite make the cut. Our bright yellow men were replicated around the world and in some hot piece of animation one even appears surfing at the end.

Not sure what the hell I'm on about? Visit and check it out for yourself.

Thursday, October 8, 2009


I got some free tickets to comedy at the Harold Park Hotel last night. They were advertised on Craigslist by someone claiming they had bought tickets and couldn't go but were actually just a sad ploy by the organisers to get more than 3 people along to the gig.

We saw some dude who was okay followed by some other dude who was okay. They probably would have been better than okay had there been more than 12 people in the audience though. The whole atmosphere was just a bit sad. You are never going to get rousing laughter from a few old relatives who've seen it all before and a few scummy people who got free tickets on Craigslist. The new owners of the hotel fussed over us, finding good seats and offering a free wine tasting. I hoped they enjoyed the comedians because they had clearly lost thousands of dollars on the evening. I hope their fortunes turn and people pay actual money to see okay comedians on a Wednesday night. I don't really like their chances though.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The Lotto Lane

Everyone avoids toll roads because they are boring and expensive. After all how exciting can driving in an overpriced tunnel be?

If I were to become a toll road operator I'd make it way more exciting. The major change would be the lotto lane where instead of paying a fixed rate you'd gamble. Your toll could be five bucks or it could be nothing. You could even win the jackpot and get free toll for life. Mostly however you would lose out and make me ridiculously rich.

I'd have different toll gates, all with different themes and depending on how you were feeling you could go the Egyptian lane, the Mermaid lane or the Leprechaun lane and instead of the little beepy noise you'd have a whole lot of little beepy noises, just like a poker machine. I'd actually have a gate every few hundred metres so a keen gambler could drop $100 on their drive home.

Fuck I'm going to be rich!

Blue Light Picasso

Ever seen one of those forensic shows where they put a blue light over the sheets and there is semen everywhere? Generally it is quite amazing how much semen is produced - just glowing blue blobs all over the place.

But if I were to murder someone I think it would be good to give the forensic dude something to be really impressed by, not just the size of my load. How impressive would it be if I were to do an amazing Picasso like semen painting?

I wonder what would happen if there was a religous apparition that appeared under the blue light. Would worshippers come to see a semen Jesus?

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Animal Bits

The other day I was thinking it would be good to have fox ears because foxes can hear really well and with all that fur covering them they wouldn’t get cold in winter or sunburnt in summer.

But if you could swap one of your body parts for an animal body part what would it be?

If everyone had the choice I reckon there would be some pretty bad decisions made. Obviously you’ll get all these men saying they want an elephant penis, who will end up ruing their decision because they can’t walk without tripping over or find a woman able to accommodate them (unless of course a few woman decide to have elephant vaginas which probably wouldn’t be that silly because it would make child birth way less painful).

Of course, you’d get heaps of people who want to fly and trade their arms for eagle wings. Sadly they would soon find out that the wings didn’t provide adequate lift for their heavy bodies and would have to walk everywhere with untied shoes.

You could trade your legs away for a fish tail and become a real life mermaid but that probably would make transport an issue if you ever wanted to go somewhere not by the water. If I was going to trade my legs I might get kangaroo legs.

There are so many possibilities - monkey forearms, peacock crest, pig nipples, anything! Medical technology is evolving. You should really give this some serious thought.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

It's best not to try

I decided to wash my windows for the first time in six years. It's a complex operation because you have to reach around further than your limbs will go. I sudsed up the windows okay but when I was wiping them off I couldn't quite get to all the suds before they dried. Then a bee stung my finger. Now it hurts to type and my windows look shitter than when they started.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Before the lights go out

It doesn't seem right how when you get old all you do is visit an increasing number of medical practitioners as your abilities gradually desert you. It means there's nothing to look forward to which is I guess why the idea of God and an afterlife is so marketable.

What would be great is if you had a period just before you die that you become the best in the world at something. It could be that your nan wakes up one day and doesn't feel like doing crochet and instead decides to ride a motorbike against Valentino Rossi. She kicks his arse and gets to spray champagne from one of those big bottles before the lights go out.

Or maybe some dude who has been illiterate his whole life goes out and feels an urge to take part in a scrabble competition and manages to lay down 'quixotic' on the triple word score to take the tournament.

It would be great watching some trapeze artist do a triple somersault and thinking "not bad, but when I'm 90 I reckon I'll do better." I don't think you'd get to choose what your amazing talent will be though. You could get flower arranging, cliff diving or whale harpooning.


Here are some far more entertaining sites.

School Fair

Is it wrong to walk around a primary school clad only in a crotch hugging bit of lycra? Possibly, but if I gave in to modesty I'd never have got to have a $2.50 sausage sandwich after my bike ride. Nor would I have won a bottle of chardonnay in the $5 tombola or picked up a lovely chocolate cake for just $10.

The only bad bit of the St Ives school fair was the singing and synchronised dance routines of the children. I forgot just how crap kids can be.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


Most schoolies just plan a trip to the Gold Coast and dent the Barina in the Maccas car park. Jessica Watson decided to fuck up on a much grander scale.

Having told the world how she was all grown up and perfectly equipped to do a lap of the globe she ran her yacht into a ship after less than a day. Now I’m not a yachtie but I reckon if there was millions of kilometres of open ocean and a big ship coming my way I’d steer the boat in the direction of the blue stuff and not the big ship. Seems like a pretty basic error.

Personally I can’t imagine anything more boring than sailing around the ocean by myself. If I were 16 I’d rather be puking from too many vodka jelly shots with my friends than puking from seasickness. I think she came to her senses and decided this was the way out.

Sunday, September 6, 2009


This weekend I joined a whole lot of dedicated lycra wearing freaks to compete in the Wollombi Wildride – a 60km mountain bike thingy. My strategy was to start out at the back with the fat bastards and gradually overtake a few of them when they ran out of puff.

For elite athletes like myself nutrition is critical, so pre-race I downed a sausage sandwich at the pub and to keep energy levels high mid-race I carried a number of choc chip biscuits and chico babies. Sadly I dropped a couple of the biscuits and did not get the full effect of their sugary goodness.

At the halfway point I was coming a lowly 100th so I thought I’d try a bit harder and despite my gear cable almost breaking I managed to overtake a fair few tiring fat bastards who obviously didn’t have the benefit of chico babies. Eventually I got over the line in a time of 3 hours 28 minutes – a mere hour and a quarter behind the skinny freak who won!

Naturally after such an effort I was keen to kick back on the couch and watch the Wallabies play. In some quirk of satellite technology Wollombi only seems to get TV from the Northern Territory (if you are reading this and are aboriginal, live in the Territory and want to become a pharmacist you should apply for the special grant and get $15,000 a year). They have all sorts of weird ads on NT tele but very sadly they have no rugby so instead of enjoying the Wallabies kick some Springbok arse I watched J-Lo in Maid in Manhattan.

I wanted to scratch my eyes out but that may have been just an allergic reaction from the cat.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

How I will get rich via dog poo

Dogs are ace but the idea of scooping up their fresh, warm poo in a thin plastic bag really puts me off the idea of owning one.

Thankfully, those smart Japanese have developed a far better solution to this problem. When their dog is ready for a poo they just lay out some newspaper and let Fido express its opinion of world events. Sure they still have to walk around carrying a newspaper full of crap but it’s better than scooping it up in a plastic bag and far more environmentally friendly.

To make me rich I plan on developing an even better way of cleaning up after a pooch. My first option involves a tweak on the Japanese system but instead of newspaper it would be special sheets that would be printed with the faces of politicians and celebrities that people didn’t like. You could probably even special order ones with pictures of ex-lovers printed on them as the business got rolling. Anyway, the sheets would have drawstrings like a garbage bag and once Fido is done you just pull them tight and you’ll have a fresh bag of poo which you can just tie on to the leash or fling hammer-style onto the porch of an annoying neighbour.

The second option would be a bit more high tech. It would work just like a bait pump but instead of sucking up worms or yabbies it would pick up the poo. Best of all you could also shoot the poo wherever you wanted once you were loaded up. I think I’d also add one of those tennis ball flinger things on the end to provide extra functionality. I plan to sell this device using infomercials. At the start there would be a fat woman picking up a sloppy poo and trying not to wretch. Over the top would be a cheesy voiceover saying “Tired of picking up your dog’s filthy crap? You need the Poosucker 3000!” then there would be a hot woman using the poosucker 3000 and eventually they’d get to the bit where they tell you it’s just 3 easy payments of $49.95 (plus 17.95 postage and handling) and if you ring now you get the ball flinger attachment.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The goose step

I met Campo yesterday which was kind of cool, considering he was my second favourite rugby player ever. The meeting did however dredge up some disturbing memories.

The year was 1983 and I was in year one at Ryde East Primary School. I was in the playground and we were playing catch and kiss. Terrified by girls’ germs and inspired by my hero Campo I pulled out a goose step and managed to get straight past Pamela and Samantha. The girls didn’t really appreciate my goose step. They thought it was just weird and laughed at me.

As the game progressed I got cornered by Kirrily and Bronwyn and despite my awesome goose stepping I got caught. Then came the crushing bit - neither of them could bring themselves to kiss the weird goose stepping freak. The girls even kissed John Floridia who was the least popular kid in the grade (everyone teased John because he was always picking his nose). I however was clearly unkissable.

Having your ego so brutally shattered at the tender age of six is bound to have lasting effects. Ever since then I have never really been that confident around girls and felt a fear of rejection. I blame Campo.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Remarkable Crap

A bird did this amazing crap on my window the other day. I wish I had of seen it occur because it seems to defy physics. This is a vertical surface with no space above it where a bird could perch which leads me to believe the bird was in flight. Carrying a remarkably large load, the bird must have flown towards the window. At the very last second before slamming into the building, the bird must have squirted its load while making a sharp turn and letting the inertia carry the crap onwards. An impressive effort really.

Dead flowers

Is it rude to chuck out my flatmate's dead flowers? They are bringing the place down.

It's like seeing a helium balloon that has lost its floating power - just a sign that happy times don't last forever.

It's also a little like seeing a used condom in a public space - a reminder of a loving gesture that happened a while ago and is now just icky.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Driving snack

This morning in Lane Cove I saw a guy driving whilst balancing a bowl of noodle soup on his lap and eating it with chopsticks. Ambitous effort...

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Tokyo Love Hotel

With most Japanese families living in compact houses with rice paper walls, love hotels are a great way for couples to get some privacy. They are also a must for any tourist itinerary.

Ill advisedly we had ditched the guide book that told us how to get to where all the love hotels were, so based on my vague recollection we went to Shinjuku, wandered around with our heavy bags looking and tried not to get the shits with each other too badly. Eventually we found a book store and consulted a guide book in the English section which was tucked away on the seventh floor. It told us Love Hotel Hill was actually in Shibuya. Bugger!

After getting lost in Shibuya for a while we saw a lit up Pac-man above the road which we recognised from some dude’s blog. Eventually we started coming across heaps of love hotels, with their signs outside advising the prices for a “rest” or for a stay.

Sadly, we couldn’t find any over the top Hello Kitty themed rooms. Most were quite tame really. We walked through a Caribbean themed place but sadly the pictures of the rooms didn’t show any pirates, hammocks or mermaids.

Another place did however look pretty impressive. It was done in a Venetian theme and the room we selected had a big archway and a projected gondola scene on the wall. Unfortunately when we went to the window to pay, the woman behind the counter started yelling things in Japanese at us. I couldn’t translate exactly what she meant but the gist of it seemed to be “get the hell out of here you clueless fools”.

By then we were pretty much willing to stay anywhere, so at the next place we entered we just picked the flashest looking room available and hoped the woman behind the counter wouldn’t scream at us. The room was 9800 yen for a stay however for some reason the woman decided to give it to us for 8500 (around $120 AUD). Score. She also gave us a big remote control and then yelled at us when we tried to go up the stairs instead of the elevator.

The place was totally pimped out. Full marble, big flat screen, stereo system, karaoke and best of all, a spa bath with another TV above it. Sadly I couldn’t really work out the remote control all that well so we didn’t get to sing any karaoke duets like “Islands in the Stream” or “Love lifts us up where we belong”.

Another disappointing aspect of the experience was the porn. It started off fairly standard but then a show came on which involved creepy looking Japanese guys picking up girls off the street and then filming them while having sex. One particularly disturbing episode involved the back of a limo, two guys and a girl being forced to give head. It was very wrong and it totally ruined my spa bath.

Once you go inside the room you can’t leave so we stocked up on beer and snacks beforehand. There was a beer vending thing in the fridge but it looked complex and may have involved phoning reception. After pressing lots of buttons I managed to get the mood lighting going but changing the volume on the TV was beyond me. Still, it was by far the most awesome room we had in Japan and far cheaper than most standard tatami hotel rooms.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

More proof that poms are useless

Jamie Neale went out for a bushwalk from Katoomba and managed to get so lost that he spent twelve days of his vacation shivering in the cold and starving when he could have being pissed on goon and attempting to lure some Swedish backpacker into his bunk. Useless.

If you get lost in the Amazon fair enough – that’s a seriously big jungle. How could you get it so wrong in the Blue Mountains though? Walk downhill for a couple of days and you’ll get to Penny Panthers where you can enjoy a steak and a spot of cable water skiing. Keep going east and you’ll get to Coogee where you can indulge in a bowl of poo ice cream. Even for a pathetic pom it shouldn’t take twelve days.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Improving Busking

Most buskers are shit and offend my ears terribly, yet while they get money I get nothing. I believe this imbalance needs to be redressed.

My proposal is simple. Allow people who don’t like the music to take money from the buskers. If you find the guy on that one stringed Chinese thing a tad monotonous take twenty cents. If you can’t stand the guy playing the didgeridoo with the techno backing track, take a dollar.

In this way it would only be profitable for really good performers to busk and we could get rid of all those seven year old violinists and gold painted freaks who just stand still with an umbrella and a stupid look frozen on their faces. I also think the standing still thing would be far cooler if you got to throw stuff at the person. For a gold coin you could choose either a tomato, a water balloon or an egg. I might do that actually. I reckon I’d make heaps of money.

Would you like spiritual guidance with that?

The other week I went in to lululemon expecting to find a normal store selling running shorts. Instead I found a weird cult selling running shorts.

This place has a manifesto which sounds like it was written by your crazy great aunt during that period where her medication wasn’t quite right. Some of the pearls of wisdom incorporated into this manifesto include:

* Children are the orgasm of life.
* Do not use cleaning chemicals on your kitchen counters.
* Take various vitamins.
* Don’t trust that an old age pension will be sufficient.
* Visualise your eventual demise.

My initial reaction was to get away really fast and avoid drinking anything which looked like Kool-Aid. However I did get mightily intrigued when I saw personal ten year plans posted around the store from various customers/cult members. Sadly most of these people just planned on having real estate, kids and a flat stomach in ten years time and hadn’t outlined anything that interesting. The five year and ten year plans did however strike me as a very communist thing to do for a commercial enterprise.

One of the other strange juxtapositions was the huge Buddha statue positioned next to the cash register. From my understanding Buddha gave away fabulous wealth to sit under a tree. I don’t think he was really in to designer fitness wear.

I think the weird jumbled together ideology really is however really smart. Obviously lululemon is cashing in on the fact that most people have abandoned mainstream religion in favour of their own jumbled together ideologies. They don’t want long drawn out parables in a cold church; they want quick advice about benchtop cleaning and strange metaphors relating children to orgasms. it all makes sense really.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Rooting Tennis Players Gives You Awesome Powers

If you want to achieve anything in life find a former female world number one tennis player and get it on with her. Apparently their pink bits are filled with some magic elixir that will transform you in to a total winner. The evidence is overwhelming.

1. Andre Agassi was completely crap when he was going out with Brooke Shields but as soon as he started doing Stephie Graff he became awesome and won all the majors.
2. When Lleyton Hewitt was engaged to Kim Clijsters he was world number one. He then stopped indulging in tennis pussy and went for soap star pussy instead. Since then he has been completely useless.
3. The Shark had pretty much done nothing in golf for ten years, then Chris Evert came along and at the age of 53 he suddenly came second in the British Open. (Sadly tennis pussy isn’t quite powerful enough to overpower the tendency to choke in the last round.)

The Shark is Adam Scott’s mentor. Years ago he gave him his caddie and I believe that recently he may well have even offered Chris Evert up. Wisely Adam Scott heeded the advice about tennis pussy but decided to go for a younger model and is now getting it on with Anna Ivanovic. Last I heard he was also leading the Scottish Open.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Fairytales for Feminists

It seems that from a very young age little girls are taught that the key to happiness is a Prince Charming or a Knight in Shining Armour. I feel this just sets unrealistic expectations and doesn’t prepare them to get ahead on their own terms.

Repunzel’s escape plan was entirely unfeminist. Why wait years for your hair to grow the length of the tower, then hope some dude will come by, become smitten and want to haul you down? In my version Repunzel would grow her hair to half the length of the tower, put her hair in piggy tails and chop both of them off. She’d then tie the two piggy tails together, attach the end to the window frame and scale down herself.

This fairytale is clearly teaching all our young girls that the best way to happiness is marrying rich. In my version Cinderella would instead use her skills to start a cleaning business which she would eventually franchise and become independently wealthy. While she may have a dalliance with the prince she would pass him over in favour of the local butcher who is pure of heart and does a fantastic sausage.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Who says Alexander was great?

I love the idea of having an adjective tacked on to the end of your name but ever since Alexander the Great and Ivan the Terrible disappeared there hasn’t been a whole lot of it going on. As well as being far more interesting it should help simplify things as most of the people I know are either called Dave or Kate and it gets really confusing.

From a branding perspective I feel Jamie the Awesome could be far stronger than Jamie Watson. People would say “wow, this must be good – it was written by Jamie the Awesome!” or “we should have Jamie the Awesome over for drinks” or “pick Jamie the Awesome – I hear he’s awesome.”

I’m not really sure how the whole thing works but you probably wouldn’t get to pick your own adjective. Otherwise you would have everyone calling themselves Eric the Studly, Jessica the Hot or Trevor the Sensational. If people did have adjective names they might try harder so they earn a good one. After all who wants to be known as Michael the Loathsome, Sally the Uninteresting or Danielle the Promiscuous?

One worry I have is that by summing up a person in a singular adjective we may be blinded to alternate parts of their personality. When I hear the name Alexander the Great I think he obviously must have been a top bloke. A little Wikipedia research however reveals that Alexander was a drunk bigamist warlord who spent most of his life roaming around Europe killing people. If he were coming to burn my village, rape my wife and drink all my beer I’d be inclined to call him something other than “the Great”.

I should hope that the adjective gets to change over time. In kindergarten it may be ok to be called Jamie the Pantswetter but ten years on that probably wouldn’t do much for the self image. There’s also the matter of who gets to pick it. Were it my mum I’d probably be known as Jamie the Annoying. Were it my year 12 maths teacher I’d be known as Jamie the Disinterested. If it was any of the girls I’ve ever been out with I’d probably be called Jamie the Thoughtless.

Maybe I should just change my name to Max Power like Homer did.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

23 years too late?

If you are going to be a musician 27 is the time to go out. Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Brian Jones, Janis Joplin and Kurt Cobain all made their exit at 27 for they knew that going on any longer would have just seen them become pathetic, washed up and weird.

Michael Jackson really should have stuck with the plan. In 1986 he was on top of the world. He was still black, had a normal looking face and so far as I know he hadn't molested any children. He had also not yet released Bad (despite not being a patch on Thriller I believe this album could have achieved greater success if released pothumously). Had he gone out in that pyrotechnics accident when filming the Pepsi ad that probably would have been the ultimate.

I believe Michael Hutchence left it a few years too late as well. At 27 he was packing out Wembley Stadium but after that INXS albums were kind of shit and he was just famous for fighting Bob Geldof in custody battles over kids with stupid names.

If all musicians died at 27 we also wouldn't be subjected to shitty reunion tours from geriatrics like Simon and Garfunkyl; we wouldn't have to hear about Madonna stealing children and we wouldn't have to listen Bono crap on about Africa either.

The moral of the story is if you are a true fan of any musician you should murder them at 27 and protect them from themselves.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

The Happiness Lottery

People who win lotteries are generally stupid bogans. They stand there with their novelty oversized cheque looking confused and when asked what they intend to do with the millions they generally have plans no greater than paying off their mortgage and buying a campervan. Then they go on to say how they intend to keep their job at the cannery and how they won’t let the lottery change things too much. So why the hell did they bother entering the lottery in the first place?

There are great things you could do with millions of dollars but the tragedy is most lottery winners are too idiotic to do anything that interesting. Normally they just buy some tacky house, develop a substance abuse problem, get ripped off by some con artist and spend the rest on lawyers when getting a divorce. Then they have the temerity to bitch about how the money didn’t bring them happiness.

My theory is that we should have an alternate lottery which rather than dolling out cash prizes delivers winners happiness. Maybe as a prize the winner could press the button when they blow up some massive building – who hasn’t wanted to do that? Perhaps they could give the cannery worker some noise cancelling head phones and an iPod so that they could listen to all their favourite country and western songs during their working day. Or why not just pimp the winner’s Gemini?

These people aren’t equipped to deal with millions of dollars. So why waste all that cash when we could just give them a couple of banjos, a flash new trailer or a special guest appearance on Neighbours? No doubt they would end up far happier.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Not so innocent?

This old man, he played one
He played knick-knack on my thumb
With a knick-knack, paddy whack
Give a dog a bone
This old man came rolling home.

All through my childhood I never really paid that much attention to the lyrics but looking back this song appears highly dubious. Let’s break it down.

I can’t say for sure what knick-knack is but apparently it involves an old man touching various body parts of a child. Is he a paedophile? Quite possibly.

After doing this the old man likes to whack Irishmen in some clearly racist attack.

He then gives a dog a bone. While some think this is a redeeming feature of the old man, I argue that he probably did not act out of kindness but to insinuate that the poor paddy lying on the ground bleeding is lower than a dog. Others believe he "gives the dog a bone" in an act of bestiality although I truly hope this is not the case.

After doing this the old man celebrates his misdeeds by having far too many beers and getting drunk to the point where he must roll home.

Which leads me to the question – why were we singing nursery rhymes about a racist, drunk, violent paedophile? I guess the tune was kind of catchy.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Improving Horse Racing

The last entry got me thinking about horse racing and as I didn't really have anything to do I thought I would send a letter to the CEO of the AJC.


Mr Darren Pearce
Australian Jockey Club
Royal Randwick

Dear Darren,

I’ve been trying to get in to horse racing but sadly I just don’t find it that interesting. Rather than walk away from the sport of kings I thought I would offer some suggestions on ways in which you could potentially liven things up.

While I applaud you for providing job opportunities to little people with funny, high-pitched voices, I think you need to seriously look at who you get to ride the horses. People came out in force to watch Sonny Bill Williams box. I’m sure they’d do the same if he were mounted on a steed. And why just get the Paris Hilton to faff about drinking champagne when you could put her on the favourite in Race 6? I hear people are fascinated with watching her bounce up and down.

I appreciate you can’t afford big name celebrities for every race but I think there are other directions you could go. Personally I’d like to see races where there is more of a balance between man and beast. My suggestion is an event where the horse rides the first mile and then boards a float. For the last 100 metres the jockey would then have to pull the float like in one of those “World’s Strongest Man” competitions. I feel it would be far more strategic and present the opportunity for larger jockeys to get ahead.

I believe there is also more you can do on a charity angle. While other sports have embraced the opportunity to support breast cancer research by going pink, I’m yet to see racing do the same. Surely it can’t be that hard to dye a horse?

Frankly I think it should be done all the time. When I watch racing the dominance of brown horses makes it near impossible for me to work out which horse is coming where. If I knew I was barracking for the blue horse that would be far better.

It also seems peculiar to me that you just get thoroughbred horses to race. If properly handicapped I think you could easily have Shetland ponies, draught horses, donkeys, zebras and even giraffes competing. Who wouldn’t pay to see a giraffe versus a donkey? In these tough economic times allowing Shetland ponies to compete would also prove far more affordable and open up the sport to the common man.

I hope you will take on board these suggestions so that eventually you can capture the attention of others like me who find your sport frightfully boring.


Jamie Watson

Monday, June 15, 2009

A few things regarding zebras

1. When zebras get old do their black hairs on their coat turn white so they just end up looking like a standard horse?

2. How do black and white stripes work as camouflage anyway? White stripes stand out – that’s why they use them for pedestrian crossings. My theory is that when they are running the black and white creates a kind of strobe effect which sends the lions into an epileptic fit. Used properly, the lions just end up twitching on the ground.

3. One day I hope to have a racehorse that I will give a bit of a dye job to so it looks like a zebra. It would be so much cooler than all the other horses and people would love to back it.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Fuck You Commonwealth Bank

I'm sick of getting ripped off by the bank so I thought I'd write my bank manager a letter. Hear it is below.

Dear Bank Manager,

One day in the 80’s a handsome young man was dispatched from your bank on a mission to woo me. On arrival he whipped out a 12” elephant ruler which I was mightily impressed by. Totally awe-struck, I gleefully grabbed it with both hands. The handsome man went on to tell me an amazing story about compound interest and how the bank would help me save towards an ace remote control car at Uncle Pete’s Toys. The relationship was sealed the following week when I brought in a shiny 50 cent coin and opened my account.

In the early years things went relatively well. The bank lived up to its promise and gave me some interest as well as the occasional money box or bit of stationery. I was however a tad disappointed when the cool pink elephant was replaced by a dollarmite. After all, what the hell is a dollarmite?

As I grew older I think complacency must have set in because the bank suddenly began paying me very little interest. I felt like I was taken for granted. In any long term relationship there needs to be a bit of give and take but as the years rolled on it seemed like the bank was doing all the taking.

Recently the relationship has become downright abusive. Currently I have a savings account (XXXXXXXX) and a cheque account (XXXXXXXXX). Each month I am forced to pay a $5 fee for the savings account and a $10 fee for the cheque account. In return I get about 3 cents in interest in every year. According to my calculations that means I end up with -$159.97.

How am I supposed to go in to Uncle Pete’s Toys with -$159.97 and buy an ace remote control car? I entered this relationship on the promise the bank would help me afford my dream vehicle but it is clear that the handsome young man lied. He never really wanted to help me fulfil my dreams. He just wanted to string me along and rip me off.

While it saddens me immensely I think I have to leave. A new suitor has arrived and he is offering so much more. His name is Bankwest. He says he will never charge me fees and will pay me interest of 2.5% on my regular transaction account. Based on an average balance of around $5000 I calculate that would leave me roughly $284.97 better off a year. Finally I may be able to get that totally cool remote control car and impress all my mates!

Before I make the divorce official I am willing to hear from you. If you wish to win me back you will however have to make me a pretty special offer. I really hope things can work out between us.


Jamie Watson

P.S. Is the Commonwealth Bank trying to be clever by running ads that perpetuate the stereotype that all Americans are stupid? Such racism is not very becoming.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Go Ashfield!

Food too expensive? Move to Ashfield. Today I bought a snail pastry, a salad roll, a can of coke, a packet of biscuits and five mandarins. Total cost $7. All tasted ace.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Kangaroo Valley Bakery Review

On the weekend I went on holidays to Kangaroo Valley. Great place, crap bakery. The shithouse quality of all their bakery treats was surprising given the fact that trophies were liberally scattered all over the shop. Their scones were bland, their apple pies had terrible pastry and their sausage rolls tasted weird and salty.

Closer inspection of their trophies revealed most were for third places at the Wollongong Show in obscure categories such as apple turnover with mock cream. I don’t know how many bakeries entered an apple turnover with mock cream in the Wollongong show during 2003 but I’m guessing it wasn’t more than 3.

It was kind of like going in to the house of a 30 year old man and seeing trophies from the under 6 D’s Gladesville District Soccer Competition. You don’t expect him to be Ronaldo.

Protecting Jobs Through Laziness

My local Woolworths has just been remodelled. Now where there used to be a string of smiling checkout staff there are instead a bunch of brand new self-scanning booths. It is little wonder unemployment is on the rise.

Recruiting customers to act as scab labour is no doubt regarded as a corporate masterstroke. After all, nothing impresses the share market like cutting pesky overheads such as wages. The fact that so many are eager to scan their own frozen peas is however disturbing. Being lazy is a very simple step anyone can take to protect Aussie jobs, yet still I see my compatriots taking the far harder DIY approach.

While Woolworths may regard checkout chicks as blights on the balance sheet, I regard them as heroes for theirs is not an easy job. Toiling for minimum wage under harsh fluorescent lights, they are forced to listen to a mix of sickly in-house music and small children screaming incessantly because mum has denied them a strawberry Freddo. The line of customers never ends and with each incoming cough comes a new threat of swine flu.

Having once manned a register myself, I also know of every checkout worker’s worst fear - that incredibly awkward moment when a pack of condoms won’t scan and you must call for a price check. At Kmart I once had to make small talk with a fat chick while waiting 5 minutes for a price check on the pink G-string she was buying. Despite trying not to visualise the pink stringy thing on the pink fleshy thing the mental images could not be escaped.

Despite dealing with rude customers, regular docket malfunctions and badly printed barcodes, these heroes somehow handle it all with good grace. Unlike their machine counterparts, they also manage to greet me warmly and wish me well as they hand over my change.

To help the cause I have started a sticker campaign in the local area using a reappropriated propoganda poster. After 1 day none have been torn down. Yay!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Rugby League - I have the solution

It seems like the league boys just can't help getting in trouble. There's been a lot already written by people angry about players glassing girlfriends, raping young neignbours etc. Personally I think the whole Andrew Johns incident was completely overblown. All the parents who say he is a terrible role model now just sound completely hypocritical when they tell their kids to share.

Apart from misbehaving players the NRL also has to worry about clubs failing financially, players getting poached from Union and a competition which isn't really that national. My solution would instantly solve all of these problems.

They need to change league to a prison based competition.

There are so many benefits. Players are locked into contracts, don't get paid very much at all and can't just piss off to France when they feel like it. Important regional centres like Golbourn and Cessnock will have teams and we'll still have some great local derbys like Parramatta versus Silverwater. Best of all we won't have players being judged by the media - a jury will have already saved them all the trouble. Plus it would be great to have their crimes listed in the player profiles. I reckon I might even buy footy cards if it happens.

I imagine there would be awesome fights too.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

I'm too normal to find a car spot

I understand the necessity for disabled parking and even though there generally seems to be way more spots than cripples I don't begrudge them their special spaces. If I become paralysed being able to easily find a parking spot wherever I go will no doubt prove a little ray of sunshine.

What I don't get however is special parking spots for people with prams. Sharon having too much passion pop and neglecting to bother with birth control should not entitle her to a better spot than I can get. I understand that kids are a pain in the arse but surely that's part of the bargain. Parents are not cripples. These days they all have super dooper jogging prams that I'd imagine could sustain an extra two minute roll to the shops. If the weight of their kids is too much for parents to push maybe they should let the wee little fat fucks out for some excercise. Or maybe they should just stop going to the shops and buying all that food.

Today I also had to avoid parking in a spot for hybrid cars. If these people really were environmentally conscious they would have ridden a frickin bike freeing up that spot for my ordinary filth spewing car.

If they really wanted to create a special parking space category it should be for people who are shit drivers. Give them all massive car spaces and put padding on all the pylons. Maybe have a few attendents with ping pong bats guiding them in like a plane. There could also be an instant scratch repair place on that level and maybe an insurance claims centre.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

The tragedy of not being special

My last entry got me thinking about a trip I made to Wollongong a few weeks ago. I tried to block out many of the things I saw in Wollongong because they were kind of weird and scary. The main things I remember were:
A: A large number of drug addicts eating rainbow paddlepops at 8am.
B: A bogan woman loudly berating her new puppy for its continued diarrhoea.
C: The Australian Unicycle Championships.

Now if you come from Broken Hill and you get round town on a unicycle I imagine you’d really stand out from the crowd. People would say “There’s Gavin. He’s a bit different. He rides a unicycle.” But when people like Gavin from all over Australia gathered in Wollongong, they immediately ceased to be all that special.

Sure, some of the competitors probably liked the feeling of being part of a community but in most I sensed a feeling of deep disappointment. No longer were they special or different. They were profoundly normal.

All of them were craving some way to capture some attention. I think that is why the woman in the picture above has impaled a tiny horse on her unicycle and is trying to eat its arse.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Small Rebellions Will Make You Punk

I am deeply afraid of finding a finding a place where I fit in. There is comfort in being odd. It’s a healthy reassurance that I’m not like everyone else. In my own unique way I am Superman. Not because I have XRAY vision, awesome flying powers or a little curl in the front of my hair, but because I have some inkling that I am actually from a different planet.

Fitting in is failure. Who ever did the extraordinary by fitting it? I admire rebels. But you don’t have to be Mandela, Ghandi or Evel Kneival. While overturning apartheid, defeating colonial rule and jumping the Grand Canyon are all way cool things, there are other ways in which you can differentiate yourself from society. I admire people who call their babies stupid names. I love grandmas who dye their hair pink. I rate people who don’t wear shoes when shopping.

The punk movement was a good idea but it was bound for failure. You can’t be non-conformist if you just become part of a scene and conform to its norms. If you are walking around with a mohawk, facial piercings and bondage pants you have completely missed the point of what it is to be punk.

You can become punk by staging small rebellions. Maybe ditch that Fitness First bag. Put a load in the dryer without cleaning the lint filter. Eat a Golden Gaytime even though you are not gay.
Gradually you will break free of society's shackles.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Guerrilla Poetry - The Book

Now that you can publish photo books way cheap I'm going to pull my finger out and put together a flash GPO tome.

The first thing to think about is obviously the title and I have come up with a few that could work and a whole lot more that probably won't work. Let me know your favourites and any other suggestions.

Plastic cutlery and a plan for mayhem.

Eating my words and finding a hair.

Force feeding the mentally malnourished with dollops of creamy goodness.

Sitting on the shoulders of a dwarf, I still can’t see the band.

Sick of the bitter cold, the Eskimo resorted to self immolation.

Covered in syrup yet no one will lick me.

Armless army wanting a wank

Eat my words.

The offensive offensive

Tackling a streaker and trying to keep the dangly bits away from my face.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

I don't think, therefore I aint

I haven’t made a post for a week. Why? Because I haven’t really had many worthwhile thoughts. I blame it on the noise of modern society.

Back in the dreamtime they didn’t have car radios, iPods or Foxtel. They didn’t have long working hours or waste their weekends at IKEA looking for exciting interior solutions for their bark huts. They just had heaps of time to think. That’s why they came up with awesome stuff like the thing about the rainbow serpent.

Constant entertainment is nice to have but I’m betting on their deathbeds most people of my generation will be wishing they hadn’t pissed away quite so much of their lives obsessing about which model/chef/fatty/dancer/singer/wanker will get eliminated next or what Darren’s current Facebook status is. We all just need some thinking time.

When I was at kindy we used to just stop half way through the afternoon and have nap time. I wasn’t always tired but I really liked it. Not only did I get to bed down right next to Rebecca, I also got to come up with all sorts of exciting thoughts while I was supposed to be keeping quiet.

For your mind to come up with something interesting you have to let it wander and explore all those weird and wonderful places that most never visit. If your mind has become sadly sedentary I suggest this – take a really, really long shower. Fuck conserving water, they are building a desalination plant. As you stand there don’t bother washing yourself, just let the droplets bounce upon your skull and eventually a thought will come into your head. It will be awesome.

Thursday, April 30, 2009


The whole heaven and hell thing seems so simplistic and arbitrary. Who slides through the gates and who gets rejected by God’s bouncer? Just imagine if you and your friend were both borderline but because you once lied and said you were sick instead of going to the pub with him, he got in and you didn’t. Should he get to spend eternity floating around playing frisbee with Ghandi while you are thrown in the fiery pits of hell?

I reckon the system is probably a bit more complex. Life is really a big series of tests like the HSC and instead of getting a TER at the end you get an HER (Heaven Entrance Ranking). Rather than determining what tertiary institution you go to it determines what part of heaven you get to.

Obviously all the real goodie goodies like Mother Theresa will go to the really luxurious part of heaven where you constantly get the best of everything. I figure someone like me whose performance has been basically good but undistinguished will get in but it will be to the heavenly equivalent of UWS.

I’d say I’d have some virgins waiting for me but they’d probably have a bit of a muffin top or a gap tooth or an annoying pommy accent. I could eat ice cream whenever I wanted but it would be No Frills neapolitan and someone else would have already had all the chocolate. They’d have really good TV but you’d probably still get a few ads. At least it wouldn’t be those ones offering funeral insurance. I hate those ads.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Sexual Mr Miyagi

In Daniel’s formative years Mr Miyagi played an invaluable role in shaping the boy in to an awesome fighting machine capable of kicking the arses of his tormentors. Let’s face it though – not every young kid needs karate.

I could handle getting in the occasional scrap at school but as a teenager I had no idea when it came to girls. I needed a sexual Mr Miyagi.

Like most who attended boys’ schools I was completely clueless about girls and other than a very vague idea of what is supposed to go where I knew bugger all. In order to learn some technique I would have been happy to wax a whole lot of cars and paint a whole lot of fences but no weird Asian guys ever came to help me.

Needless to say my first sexual encounters just involved a lot of awkward fumbling followed by a string of apologies. While I believed my performance has improved somewhat since it was coming off a very low base.

I think it would be awesome to start a business called Sexual Mr Miyagi which gives growing teens proper sexual instruction. Ultimately I think I could hook up with a driving instruction business and do package deals – something catchy like a drive and muff dive special.

In the years since I’ve been a teenager I have had the opportunity to have sexual experiences with a reasonable sample size of women and I must say that performance levels have been highly variable. To achieve a consistent high standard across the board we need better education.

High school kids spend countless hours learning quadratic equations, trigonometry, physics and all sorts of other shit they will never use in their life. Just about all of them will however have a root at some point. So why can’t they do 3 unit sex for the HSC?

If we all became awesome in the sack just imagine what it would do for our country. I think it would be a great source of national pride. We’d also be happier and fitter and surely tourism would boom. Australia needs a Sexual Mr Miyagi.

Monday, April 27, 2009

And the biggest loser is?

Anyone watching the show.

To me The Biggest Loser represents all that is wrong with modern Western society. The fact that it rates so highly is deeply disturbing. It is wrong on so many levels but let me explore just a few reasons why I believe The Biggest Loser represents a decline in our civilisation.

Obese fuckers - The contestants were such gluttons that they didn’t have the sense, willpower or moral wherewithal to stop at one bucket of chicken each meal time. That this is such a common problem is quite astounding. Did their mothers just let them eat their entire birthday cake and not teach them about sharing?

Cry babies – Every time I saw a promo for that show someone was crying. The script seems to be: lose a kilo – cry, jog up a hill – cry, eat a lettuce leaf – cry. There were people in concentration camps who lost just as much weight and endured a whole more without blubbering every three seconds. Harden up!

Miracle cures – the show is primarily a platform for advertising bullshit weight loss products to people who are too lazy to actually get off the couch and do any form of exercise. I am no doctor but replacing all your meals with some show sponsored milkshake doesn’t seem like a brilliant way to go about weight loss. Try star jumps.

Weird flappy arms – Losing all that fat means there is a whole lot of left over skin and it just creeps me out. Maybe they could stretch it out and fashion themselves into some kind of human sugar glider. Is this where evolution will take us?

Newsworthiness – There is a hell of a lot of interesting stuff going on in this world but if some fat fuck gets in shape it gets headlines (especially if they are a celebrity fat fuck). We have the communication resources to access anything and this is what we choose? I believe the fact that the masses are transfixed by such crap demonstrates a counter-renaissance is in motion. Get ready for a new dark age chock full of airheads and fat fucks.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

World for All People Update

Yesterday we took some top photos that I'm sure Rick will love. Check them out. The latest corrsepondence is also below.

Hi Rick!

I just thought I’d let you know that the people in Sydney have really taken to the “World for all People” concept. Everywhere we went people loved it! I think the song and the video will be a major hit!

We took some awesome photos yesterday so hopefully you can use more than one. I especially like the one with the clowns! Unfortunately the text on our signs didn’t come up all that clearly but I’m sure someone as clever as you are could work some magic on Photoshop.

Unfortunately I also have a bit of sad news. Our cheerleader friend Sandy who was going to do the choreography on some dance routines had an accident on Saturday. She was cheering during a rugby match when the ball struck her on the head and sent her crashing into the fence. She is now in a medically induced coma but the doctors seem confident she’ll pull through. I hope you can say a prayer for her.

Sandy was also going to arrange the human pyramid but on reflection I was thinking maybe you could get some Egyptians to do that in front of the pyramids. I think the juxtaposition would be great!

One of our friends is going to Ireland and is keen to take some pictures over there with something Irish like a leprechaun or U2 or a drunk person. I don’t really know much about Ireland but she’s Irish so I’m sure she’ll come up with something totally ace!

You will also notice a nude photo in amongst the collection. We were thinking we could write “world for all people” on all different body parts. I am hoping to get a picture of my pregnant friend for you with the words written across her belly. How good would it be to see different parts of different people from different parts!

Good luck with all your efforts in putting together the video. Be sure to keep us up to date with how you are going and if you have any draught versions we’d love to see them.

Peace Out.

J W !! You totally totally rock!These are fantastic, I love them! I'm really sorry to hear about your friend Sandy, and I am sure hoping for the best for her. And ... I will be looking forward to what your other friend comes up with in Ireland - I haven't even found anyone to talk with there yet! Most of all, I think to have that across pregnant woman's tummy - big as possible! :-) That is a very beautiful idea. :-) That might be the very best idea. :-)I think it will be a long time before I have even a draft video - I am really excited about this and want to make the very best video I possible can, so I am still working on the planning for some parts. You know , it just occurred to me that you might like to see an effort I did last year .. its not as good as this will be , but I wager you will like it: thank you again you are lifting my spirits about what we can accomplish with this!! I hope you can extend my thanks too to everyone helping you there. We are all brothers and sisters. Peace out, and will be in touch soon! :-) Rick

Thursday, April 23, 2009

My plan for getting rid of drugs in society

I am against drugs on a number of fronts.

1. People who take drugs spend most of their time talking about drugs which makes them shit conversationalists. I don’t care about where they are going to score, what they are going to take at an upcoming party or how of his face Darren was on Friday. It’s boring.

2. Drugs help dickwads earn a living. Dealers are generally skittish tracky wearing rejects who couldn’t cut it at McDonalds. Higher up the chain the clothes may get better but the people just become even bigger wankers.

3. Drugs are really bad value. If you are in Colombia it might make economic sense to derive your enjoyment from cocaine but here there is about a 1000% mark up. Why not do something cheaper and more original like jumping around naked on a trampoline?

My plan to tackle drugs relies on a couple of theories.

1. People take drugs because it is a rebellious thing to do. If something has the potential to piss off your parents and get you in trouble with school teachers and policemen, it will obviously attain some edgy cool status.

2. People enjoy drugs because they are at fun events when they take them. If you are lining it up at some ridiculous Elton John party with loads of famous people and mounds of expensive caviar you’d probably come to associate drugs with good times. Likewise if you were smoking a bong on a comfy couch while watching the Simpsons and eating Tim Tams.

Under my plan drugs would not only be legalised, but there would be prominent government campaigns encouraging people to take drugs. Teachers and parents would all become strong advocates of drugs. Mums would stop nagging their kids to eat their peas and start telling them to inject their heroin. Instantly rebellious teens would be turning away from drugs en masse.

Drugs would also be offered far cheaper. Government agencies would under-cut the dealers and quickly put them out of a living. To obtain your drugs you would however have to go to a government building. I’m imagining somewhere like an RTA with bad carpet, a lot of cheap grey plastic chairs and a dehumanising number waiting system.

You would then be forced to take your drugs on the premises. There would be nothing to do there but sit in the uncomfortable grey chair, stare at the bad carpet and shield your eyes from the strong fluorescent lights. Eventually people would come to associate drugs with having a bad time and they would no longer be a problem in our society.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Stripper Clowns

Having hit my thirties I am now once again getting invites to kids’ birthday parties. Sadly the promise of fairy bread, lolly bags and pass the parcel just doesn’t excite me the way it did when I was five. To encourage the parent generation to go anywhere near a house where there will be 20 screaming kids high on red cordial I think some adult entertainment should be provided. Hence my genius idea of stripper clowns.

It would work like this. Stripper clown comes in to the backyard and does a show for the kids, blowing up a few balloons in the shape of animals, juggling, riding a unicycle and pulling a string of handkerchiefs from out of her sleave.

Then stripper clown goes indoors and does a show just for dad and his mates. Usually when you get to see a stripper it is quite predictable but with a stripper clown I think it could go in any direction. Obviously there could still be a bit of balloon work and she could still pull a string of handkerchiefs from somewhere or other. I’d expect there would be some tassels under the clown suit and maybe she could work in some good circus freak stuff. Naturally she could do her whole act along to that circus music that goes de de de deda la la la dada.

Stripper clowns would not just be good for kids’ birthdays, they would also be great for bucks nights where the buck has a clown phobia. Every bucks night should be a mix of titillation and humiliation and I think a stripper clown just makes sense.

Monday, April 13, 2009

World For All People

Last month I put a listing on Craigslist trying to encourage people to join the Guerrilla Poetry Organisation. I got no interest from poets but I did receive an email from Rick, an extremely naive Canadian with a grand plan. I think you will find the email dialogue interesting.


Hello. :-) "Fight Club For The Pain Averse Poetry" gotta like that.I am not a poet but I am reaching out to people around th world to - perhaps you and/or your group would help with this:----I am writing to you from Vancouver Canada. This is a very unusual, but sincere, request. Please take a moment to read it - you will like it :-)I am wanting to make a friend in every country, who will do a small thing to help with a good-hearted project. And it is fun! I went to craigslist to look, and saw your post there, and that is how I chose to ask you. It is just a youtube music video project ... about making a better world. It is a small thing really, but it is the right time in the world to try such things. I have found someone in China, Mexico, Bahamas, the US, Peru, and several other countries that are going to help me with this. It is easy: Each of them will get a small group of people, all smiling, and holding a up a banner or sign, and it will say; " World For All People " That's it! They will hold it up with some friends, probably outside showing the local background there, ( a landmark perhaps?) and have a picture taken, all smiling, and then send the picture to me ... to be included with the others in the video, with the nice song. I wonder if you would consider doing this with me .. sincerely, it is a small, peaceful, well meaning gesture, and project about bringing the people of the world together. Idealistic I know, but it can't hurt to try. It is not what you posted for but it is a sweet, happy thing. What do you think? :-)Sincerely Rick Vancouver

Thanks for inviting us Rick. That sounds like an awesome plan!

I have spoken to a number of our members and they are up for it. In discussing the idea someone put up the suggestion that we do the photo in the state that god intended us. We have quite a mix of shapes, sizes and skin tones so I think the "world for all people" message would come across stronger if we were to disrobe. It may also garner a lot more attention on Youtube! Obviously it would have to be done tastefully - maybe we could put the sign across our private parts. A couple of our members used to be cheerleaders and they also suggested we do a human pyramid but maybe that is making things to complicated.

Let me know what you think.


Hi! :-) That's a great idea! :-) I think it really would have to be a situation where, for the broadest viewing audience possible, all 'private parts' were covered with the sign or banner. But I LOVE the idea of having some of the pictures with people who have disrobed, it will surprise people when they appear among the others. :-)Creative is good! Even the ones that thought a pyramid idea would be cool have a pretty good point ... if it can be done without problems. :-) If all of your group is in one country .. then one pic will do - however you want to do it. :-) If you can help with getting these pictures in more than one country ...I have some more , slightly different suggestions for each suggestions... :-) And thanks in a bigger way ! It is very very cool to get help with this!Looking forward to your pic and/or hearing more from you. :-) Rick


I think your project has so many possibilities! I was really keen on the naked pyramid thing but a friend pointed out that Lindy England has already done that Abu Grahib so it might be a bit passe now.

Our group is only small but there are plenty of other people who I am sure would be interested. There was a picture in the paper today of Australia's basketball team for the dwarf Olympics (I think they prefer to be called people of shorter stature but I guess that is a bit too much to inscribe on the medals). I know someone who knows one of them so maybe I could get them involved also.

Would it just be limited to photos or could we take some video and maybe choreograph a dance? (maybe something like Thriller or the bit in Ferris Bueller's Day Off where he is in the parade and the people on the steps do that awesome synchronised bit). I think if you got the Mexicans and Chinese and Peruvians all doing the same thing it could make a top video.

What is the song like? If it is like Robert Palmer's Simply Irresistable we could perhaps all dress alike and do that thing where we all sway at the same time. In fact I guess we could still do the dance moves even if it didn't sound the same.


Hey J W, My hot mail seems messed up so I switched over to my gmail. You know, I had started out looking for people who would make video portions of the video!! ... and then I switched to simply requesting pictures. But! if you and yours want to go to the effort of making video, that will be very cool, and probably be at least three! And they will mix really well with the still shots and the other components I am gathering. So, JW, if this becomes too much, revert to the still shot(s) any time you like - but a video contribution would be very cool. I have thought of dozens of concepts for video passages. Just as a for instance, we might combine the banners or signs with videos in a multitude of ways. Say, by taking a part of the chorus, (this one), : There Will Be .(pause)....There Will Be .(pause)....There Will Be. A. World For All PeopleTo those words, you could have someone near camera with a sign with the word 'There' on it, and then someone jump out from behind him or her, and in front, with a sign with the word "Will" on it, and then someone with a sign with the word 'Be' on it, and cycle all the way through that passage. Clothed or Unclothed - although again if unclothed caution would be required. ;-)I would edit that so it was timed with the music track.Honestly I don't think its my best idea - just an easy one to explain.That could be done downtown early morning or something where it is definitely not allowed for shock value, or on a beach, or in front of a landmark, or just a nice outdoor setting. But I wager I wager you and your group can come up with lots of other different concepts - with the goal of being visually captivating. Now, to your dance idea, At first I thought well this song is too slow for that. .... ( It has a sort of a pop ballad pace to it) But, actually, I think that comes down to choreography concepts - perhaps something amazing could happen at that pace. People choreographed and like-dressed, or painted, or who-knows-what, slowly dancing ( and smiling! this is a happy concept!). A slow dance thing could be amazing.I am so happy to be finding enthusiasm all over the world for this. :-) ! One thing occurs to me at this moment, if your group does go all out and make some video - fabulous ... and then I would ask that you still do a still shot - with that one sign - for me to put your city and country on the screen with. You could even look like different people (from the video stuff) if you like. I think that component of stills and world-wide locations will help add this up to a great message.Sunday dinner time .. looking forward to hearing from you again :-) Rick


Hi Rick!

I was watching some old family movies over the weekend and it gave me a great idea for the video. I grew up in the country and we had a pet kangaroo called Hoppy who was really cool. When I was really little dad used to tuck me in to Hoppy's pouch and she would jump around the backyard. It was so fun! I was really devestated when dad told me I'd got too big to ride in Hoppy. Watching the old film of me jumping around the backyard with a big smile on my face made me think perhaps I could get a few of my friends' kids to do the same while holding the sign. It would be really cute. Hopefuly we can also get the kangaroos to hop along to the beat -although this may be difficult as in my experience kangaroos generally don't take direction very well. Maybe you could also find someone from New Zealand to ride a sheep. They have lots of those.


Hey J W, I love that idea :-) And I am pretty good at video editing,so I could finagle it a bit ... and and probably get the hopping edited in time with the music. And, you are definitely welcome to do more than one thing. I was thinking about that suggestion I made with people jumping out from behind with signs with a word or two on them - and then I got an image of them dropping in front from something above, just off camera...... and I thought something similar, or different, would do very well with four lines from the 3rd chorus:No More Violence for Religion ...No More Government for Greed ...No More Poisons Where the Winds BlowNo More Children Left In Need Better idea: I am going to paste in the entire lyric below fyi ... it's good to be working with you. :-) Rick-----


And you say you're not a poet - those are lovely lyrics!

Unfortunately there has been a bit of a hiccup with the kangaroo idea as I've been told that it is now considered child abuse to put your child in a kangaroo's pouch. Damn nanny state! Apparently there was a little girl in Western Australia who went for a pouch ride and the kangaroo hopped away and couldn't be found for two days. Fortunately the little girl suckled on the kangaroo and was fine - kangaroo milk is very rich in vitamins. She became rather traumatised however when the authorities shot the kangaroo.

Anyway I was thinking maybe we could do something with hula hoops and have "world for all people" written on our chests. One of our members wants to get it tatooed but I told him it probably wouldn't look very good on the video if it is all fresh and scabby for the shoot. What do you think?


Hey J W :-)Thank you very much about the lyrics. :-) I agree with you, if it is tattoo it would probably be best to wait until all the healing was done. Hula Hoops is cool, anything visually captivating is cool! :-) So the setting can help too .... a landmark near you? or something :-) We never talked about the mechanics of it all... cell phone vdeos shoot in various formats but I can probably convert almost anything... camcorder videos shoot in various too but JVC and Sony etc major brands are easily convertible to .avi files ..which are probably best. What are you planning to film with? It doesn't matter really I am sure we can probably learn to convert anything to anything. I am going to send a second email, a forward that will bring you the draft ...draft=unfinished recording :-) ... it has the lead vocal ... but no background vocals or musicianship added yet... just some hokey guitar i did to help guide the singer .. hearing it might help you decide on what you want to do you might want to sing along as you do something ... I will be able to leave the audio in or out depending on how it goes with everything else ... I am hoping your video is about 12 - 15 seconds .. and then that you do a second - very different looking still shot - with just the sign ... ...we are going to make something of this! :-) Rick

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Hot Cross Buns

With Easter here it got me thinking about that Hot Cross Buns song, which goes:

Hot cross buns, Hot cross buns, one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns. If you have no daughters, give them to your sons, one a penny, two a penny, Hot Cross Buns.

Two things have always really annoyed me about it. Firstly is someone is selling hot cross buns for one a penny, who the hell is buying them when you can get two for a penny? And how can they justify charging double? It just seems strange unless the people selling one for a penny was a fancy bakery and the one selling two for a penny was a cheap Vietnamese one. I don’t think they had Vietnamese bakeries back when they wrote the song so it just seems like a really poor value proposition.

The more disturbing line though is the one about only giving hot cross buns to your sons in the event you have no daughters. I’d feel bloody ripped off if mum came home with a bag of hot cross buns and only gave them to my sister. Such blatant discrimination in song form should not be encorouged.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Two Birds, One Stone

We have too many fat people and need to produce clean energy. The solution is ridiculously simple – get them riding bikes that generate power. I propose we hook every plasma screen up to an exercise bike. Over time couch potatoes will start looking svelte. People may also examine their viewing choices a lot more closely. Is Today Tonight really worth the effort?

Cycling is awesome for you. The Dutch live longer, grow taller and are healthier than people from other cultures. Scientists put this down to cycling. There are a lot of good looking Dutch people (Guus Hiddink has that weird receding hair thing going on but their ladies hockey team has always impressed). If we want to emulate the Dutch we really need to get off our fat arses and onto our bikes.

If my solution were adopted I think Australia would become a pollution free paradise filled with hotties. And it's not just during TV watching we could be generating. Anywhere you are sitting you could be cycling. It wouldn't take much to power a laptop at work and on the way there those who got a seat on the train would be made to work for the privilege. People at McDonalds could be working off that quarter pounder while they are consuming it. All park benches would be converted to power gnerating exercise bikes (this would also help get rid of bums as exercise bikes aren't very comfortable to sleep on).

Thursday, April 2, 2009

More twitterature

I blogged about twitterature last week. Here are a few more really short stories for anyone doing the MS Readathon.

Like one of those mystery bruises, she just appeared after some drunken night.

She stared at the ceiling searching for the answer and while clients often interrupted her contemplation with repeated cries of “YES”, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

They put his behaviour down to a chemical imbalance in his brain but the psychiatrist’s pills were never going to stop him from being a fuckwit.

The doctor told me to sit down and with that I knew everything was fucked.

How I will get rich via jigsaw puzzles

Most jigsaw puzzles contain really idyllic scenes. You might have some pretty flowers in the foreground, then a couple of deer and a few picturesque snow-capped mountains piercing a perfect blue sky. These are only ever completed on the most shithouse rainy days and serve only to make you really depressed that you are not at the awesome place on the picture but stuck inside with gran completing a jigsaw puzzle.

I’d like to make jigsaw puzzles that make you happy that you are where you are. Maybe I could use one of Lindy England’s Abu Grahib happy snaps. Something showing the direct aftermath of a suicide bomb could also work well. Of course, that would have the added difficulty of having lots of pieces with different body parts that don’t always meet up with each other. Slums, refugee camps and really bad public toilets would all be awesome in helping me build my jigsaw puzzle empire.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

If I were a bum

I went to some art gallery opening thing tonight, which as with most art gallery opening things was a wee bit shit. I did however get to surreptitiously place some army men and enjoy the odd accidental arse touch. I also got the opportunity to have as much chardonnay as I wanted. This got me thinking – why don’t bums attend gallery openings?

Obviously the key concern when you are a bum is obtaining alcohol. That’s why when I have my mental breakdown I plan on going to a gallery opening every night to suck the place dry. Sure, I’ll be poorly dressed, a bit on the stinky side and quite deranged but that’s fairly acceptable for an artistic type.

Gallery people are generally soft lefties who wouldn’t kick me out anyway. If they do I plan on causing a ridiculous seen by waving my penis around and threatening to wee on the artworks. You can do that when you are a bum.

Sunday, March 29, 2009


Bullshitting about real estate just isn’t paying that well now that the recession has hit so I’ve developed a grand plan to do something all together different. It started off as a simple plan to go around Australia in a Mr Whippy van with Katy selling ice cream as we went. Then I started thinking about how I can pimp my ride…

Presentation is obviously critical in the mobile ice cream business and I plan on having a van that looks frickin awesome. The theme is Coneasauras - a new dinosaur that’s not a herbivore or a carnivore but an incecreamvore. I believe this will appeal to the two target markets of kids and stoners.

Ideally, I’d like to get the van made into the shape of Coneasauras but this may be expensive and cause my van to be deemed unroadworthy. I am willing to scale down to a more 2d representation however I would like the following incorporated:

- a moving arm and jaw so it looks like Coneasauras is eating an ice cream.
- Something which shoots a plume of dry ice frost out Coneassauras’ nostrils.
- Flashing, spinning or glow in the dark eyes for Coneasauras
- A speaker system that breaks up Green Sleaves with a few dinosaur roars.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Kinder Surprise Line Extensions

Kinder Surprise is a great idea but sadly for the manufacturers kids stop buying them when they hit their teenage years. To reach this market I think they should launch Emo Surprise. There are so many things you could have inside - eyeliner, sad poetry, razor blades etc. You could probably have a golden ticket thing too where if you find it you get to go to a Cure concert or one of those more recent Emo bands.

They could have Middle Age Surprise as well. Normally they wouldn’t have any surprises in them, then one day you’d buy one and it would have a note telling you that your partner of 15 years is gay and has been having it off with the hairdresser.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Books are dead. No one has the time to read them because they normally go for about 500 pages, not 140 characters. They needn't be that long. Authors just blag on describing some scene in minute detail, denying the reader any opportunity to use their own imagination.

I've considered writing a book but I don't have the attention span to concentrate on just one idea. I've got better things to do than churn out pages for some novel that has a 1% chance of getting published.

I don't want to waste my time and I don't want to waste yours. That's why I'm developing twitterature. If you haven't worked it out that's literature for the Twitter generation. (I'm really hoping no one else has used this before and I get cited as the originator of some buzzword.)

My theory is that one sentence can say just as much as 3000 jammed up against each other. It's far more interactive too, as readers can use the scant available information to build the rest of the story in their minds.

Here are a few examples:

With a crimson cummerbund, a half-empty hip flask and a face full of freshly popped pimples, I made my entrance.

The joy of heaving the TV out the window was soon replaced with the shocking realisation that I had parked my car below.

His last act was to goad his son about how weakly he swung the axe.

I was like a paraplegic, stuck at the top of the stairs, not even having the bladder control to piss on the flames.

The teacher told me I could be whatever I wanted to be. I decided to be bad.

He would have turned Cupid from a heart wielding archer into a subway suicide bomber.

It was clear from her dietary choices that she hated herself.

While I considered confessing, a rational explanation would have destroyed the magic of the misdeed.

I tried to read her mind but it was all in Polish.