Tuesday, November 30, 2010

That's not coleslaw

Does carrot and cabbage really qualify as coleslaw? Woolworths thinks it does but I think that's bullshit. I was going to buy a bag of the pre-made coleslaw but it was missing most of the ingredients. Everyone has their own way of making coleslaw but at least they will put a bit of celery in there. Personally I also like some shallots, campsicum and apple. I've seen people put weird crap like pineapple, sultanas and walnuts in their coleslaw - it's wrong but at least they are trying harder than Woolies.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I'm a lumberjack and that's okay

Yesterday I finally cracked the shits at the palm tree that was rubbing against the gutter and making horrible squeaky noises. I decided to cut it down. This was hard because (a) trees are fucking heavy (b) there's potential for significant property damage (c)there's a good chance I'd have to call an ambulance but wouldn't be able to do so because I'd have a tree lying on top of me.

Despite these factors I powered on. Katy was of the opinion that we should probably get a professional to do it. She was probably right but that would cost money, be a pain organising and not be any fun at all. So with a rusty hacksaw, a couple of ropes and a bit of Aussie ingenuity we went for it.

Cutting down a tree is a testing time for any relationship. Not only do you have to try not to kill your partner, you also have to try to keep calm while debating different lumberjacking theories, trying to hold up a ridiculously heavy tree and keep the roof in tact. I think we did okay. Not only did we conquer nature but we also managed not to yell at each other that much or require any medical attention.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

When advertising is too effective

Normally when I ride my bike I have a little sound track going in my head. Typically it is something like INXS's Falling Down a Mountain or Blur's Song No. 2 (the woohoo one). Riding along the other day I had the So Good jingle in my head. Let me tell you it is friggin annoying to be riding along singing "So Good in your cereal, So Good as a drink, So Good is the reason why So Good is so good".

It's not just annoying because it's a jingle but it's annoying because it makes no sense. Saying "So Good is the reason why So Good is so good" is like saying chicken is the reason why chicken is so good.

So Good is a product I would never purchase. I like cows and I don't like Delta Goodrem. Why the fuck is she scrawling her signature over fake milk? Unless it's derived from her own lactation what right does she have to sign it?

Why do people care that a washed up soap star is associated with weird milk substitute? Does she even sing anymore or does she just do endorsements and appear in women's magazines. I want to slap her and the dude who wrote the jingle and anyone who ever bought any Delta endorsed product.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Plusses & minuses of being a princess

If Prince William were to ask for your hand in marriage there would be a bit to weigh up.

Plus - awesome seats at all the major sporting events.
Minus - no more getting pissed and screaming obscenities at the referee.

Plus - getting to live in a palace
Minus - it's in England

Plus - getting to ride in swanky cars
Minus - tunnels

Monday, November 15, 2010

the internet ruined tv

It used to be that when you watched something on tv you just sat there and watched it. Now however I have a laptop permanently in front of me and I spend hours half watching and half searching for the cheapest deal on some bike tyres, reading the news or writing crap in this blog. If I do try and pay full attention to the tv Katy grabs the laptop and continually shows me pictures of people I don't know or care about on Facebook. I think the people who make tv have twigged to this and have just started making shit shows that don't really force you to pay much attention. After all who's going to bother keeping up with a plot line when you could just watch something quality like Dating in the Dark or Ladette to Lady?

Fuck multi-tasking. I want to go back to the 80's.

Sunday, October 24, 2010


Pain is always at its worst when you are bored. When your mind has nothing better to concentrate on it focuses all its attention on your dodgy back or that little paper cut on your pinkie. When however you are doing really exciting, the pain isn't really that bad. George Gregan once broke his leg in the opening minutes of a Bledisloe Cup match and played on for the next hour. I'm guessing the fact he was doing something awesome and had 80,000 people cheering him on kind of helped distract him.

I believe people feel more pain as their lives become less colourful. That's why old people who don't get out much are always groaning. Instead of treating them with painkillers we should be taking them to rock concerts and getting them to hula hoop (that would probably help there hip strength too).

Hospitals should also be way more exciting. The first thing I'd do is make sure the nurses were hot and have them wear skimpy outfits and rollerskates. They should also give you a paintball gun that you can shoot randomly to redocorate the bland interiors.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Tunnel Vision

While Sydney now has more tunnels than Cu Chi I rarely travel down any of them. It could be that none of them really lead me where I want to go. It could also be that I once worked on a checkout at a miserly minimum wage and I equate the cost of a toll with roughly half an hour of work scanning intimate apparel for a queue of obese bargain hunters on a 20% off day. Like anyone who has ever flipped a burger or manned a call centre I value my cash and don’t what to spend a fortune to save six minutes. Frugality however isn’t my biggest reason for taking the overland route - I avoid tunnels because they are mind-numbingly boring.

Stay above ground and you can breathe in all those tempting aromas as you pass by the shops and decide whether to stop in for a loaf of fresh bread, a bargain pineapple or a dodgy dim sim. You can smile smugly to the people who’ve been waiting at the bus stop for far longer than is reasonable or laugh uproariously as a cycle courier tangles with an office girl who’s too busy texting to look where her or her tray of coffees is heading.

Of course, there is always the chance you will get stuck at a road work site but these days it’s not such a bad experience. For some magic reason all the jobs involving holding the ‘stop and go’ sign all seem to have gone to young ladies who are attractive enough to make any delay far more bearable.

If the tunnel operators want to get my business they really need to create something that challenges the wonders of what lies above. I propose for the whole length of their tunnels they install screens capable of displaying a continuous moving image. In this manner you could transform the boring tunnel into a scene of outback Australia complete with emus and kangaroos which run and hop beside your car as you drive along. It would be far more fun and tourists in taxis doing would be doing laps to experience it over and over.

There are really infinite possibilities. Your car could be running with a herd of bison across the plains of North America or travelling beside a peloton of Tour de France cyclists in the Pyrenees. At Christmas you could chase Santa’s sleigh and on Anzac Day you could charge with the Light Horse Brigade. Valentines Day would be the real highlight though. Just get in your little white hatchback and feel the love as a whole lot of oversized sperm race to the end at the same time!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Want to get famous? Get fat

If you've been an awesome athlete, won lots of medals and kept super fit for your whole career a few people might know who you are and not flick channel while you are going for gold. If however you want to be really famous you can:
1. Trade swimming for eating burgers
2. Become fatter than Elvis
3. Make a comeback like Elvis

Geoff Huegill getting a silver wouldn't really have rated a mention without his Elvis period. However thanks to women's magazines no achievement is considered more amazing than shedding some kilos. Rather than just being another moderately succesful athlete he is now swimming's biggest star.

If you managed to cure cancer you probably wouldn't get as much media as any chunky celebrity who regained a six pack. If you want to hit the headlines you need to cure cancer and dropped three dress sizes.

For some reason people are obsessed with the "secret of weight loss". There's no secret. It involves:
1. Eating less
2. Excersizing more
3. Will power/lap-band surgery

Personally my favourite athlete at the Commonwealth Games is Anna Meares. She has a big arse and massive thighs but that's what makes her go really fast.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Could be worse...

At least the club rugby grand final didn't involve "Justice Crew" or any Australian Idol performers. How the fuck did that gay excuse for hip hop infiltrate rugby league? Billy Idol with his mic turned off was better than that. The Optus box debacle was better than that. Just get Chisel up there and give the bogans what they want.

Not so grand

I'm pissed off about the grand final. Not just because Randwick got their arses kicked or that the referee was an idiot. I'm pissed off because the event had lost all sense of occasion.

The grand final used to be grand. Before it started there would be a marching band, some sky divers and then a shitload of balloons released in team colours. The players would even sometimes run through those big crepe banners and get little bits of paper all twisted around their boots.

People came because it was an event. This time it had nothing. No one cared and I was able to park 100 metres away.

My plan for making the grand final grand again involves the following.
1. Hire a marching band.
2. Hire a stuntman.
3. Make one of those big crepe banners.
4. Line up the buses that the marching band came in down the middle of the field. Put the crepe banner at the end.
5. make the fat guy in the marching band do a drum roll
6. Get the stuntman to ride his motorbike up the ramp, through the crepe banner and over the buses.
7. If funds stretch that far hire Paris Hilton and strap her to the last bus. I think the possibility of her being crushed by a motorbike would draw international interest and a huge crowd.

If I saw that I'd feel excited.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Jack White is awesome

Often rock stars are given undue adulation but I think Jack White is worthy.

Things that I admire about him are:

Despite being American he is obsessed with cricket. On the cover of Elephant he is holding a cricket bat and his record label is named after a fielding position.

The guy got married in a canoe on the Amazon with a sharman officiating. That's way more fun than most celebrity weddings.

His upholstery business failed because he made out his bills in crayon and wrote poetry on the furniture.

The triple decker record. Check it out.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

From the pure clean waters of...

I was watching that Boags ad the other night which goes on about how the pure clean water of Tasmania makes their beer so good. The ad made me want to go down there and ride a Kmart bike into that river so it would magically transform into something way more awesome. It also made the beer I was drinking taste pretty foul.

You see, I was drinking a Kingfisher, which comes from the pure, clean waters of India. As well as having a whole lot of industrial waste and sewage, the Ganges is where people spread the ashes of their loved ones. Unfortunately a lot of poor people can't afford enough wood to burn their relatives completely so a whole lot of semi-cooked body parts go in that river. No one really wants crispy dead man toes flavouring their beer.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Mentally ill Masterchef

I can understand the Masterchef people wanting to cash in with a spin-off but it kiddie Materchef really the way to go? Personally I don't want to see some precocious little prick whip us lobster thermodore. I don't want to see those fat fuck judges saying heart warming things to eight year olds in some culinary beauty pagaent. I want drama. I want Mentally Ill Masterchef!

I want to see George threatened with a cleaver. I want to see contestants cook liver with fava beans and a nice chianti a la Hannibal Lector. When the contestants cut themselves I want it to be on purpose. I want to see a salty mouthed tourettes aflicted nanna say things inappropriate for a 7.30 timeslot. I want someone to cook their imaginary cat.

Friday, September 3, 2010

The loudest car stereo ever

Jonah Lomu is famous for two things. The first is running straight over the top of Mike Catt in the World Cup (he did that to lots of players but the humiliation of this effort was unparalleled). Jonah is also famous for owning New Zealand's loudest car stereo. Apparently if you got his Nissan Patrol and pumped his stereo up to full volume (160 decibals) it could actually kill you. That's pretty damn impressive.

Today while I was playing golf I heard something that sounded like it might just have been Jonah. The tune coming out of this stereo was a good eight times louder than a Mr Whippy van's Green Sleeves. I think I could still hear it when it was about 4km away. It wasn't however doof coming out of that oversized subwoofer. It was Rick Astley's "Never Going to Give You Up". Special.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

A tinge of ginge

Let's face it - most redheads are a bit mental. It's like a little red food colouring has just seeped in to their brains and turned them wild.

I've always looked at the ranga population from a smug mouse-brown perspective but after not shaving for a week it has become apparent that there is a tinge of ginge in my beard. Does this explain things?

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Mini Cokes

I like the new 200ml cans of coke. They make me feel like a giant.

Still got it?

Back in my glory days (1995) I was playing in a rugby match in Grenfell. With a minute left to go we were up by one point and to run down the clock I attempted a penalty goal from halfway. I frickin smashed it and by some miracle it went over.

Despite hanging up my boots at the conclusion of the 95 season I have gone down the park each winter just to see if I've still got it. Normally it takes a lot of attempts and a good helping breeze but eventually I land one from the 50 metre mark.

Today I went down to the local park feeling ready to prove that my 32 year old body could do just as well as my 17 year old body. The ball was inflated just right, there was a nice following breeze and my hammy was well stretched. Only one problem - they'd taken the posts down.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

I blame Constable Care

Remember when the coppers came into primary school and delivered Constable Care's message about Stranger Danger? They did a great job of scaring a generation shitless.

I spent my formative years being suspicious of kind old ladies, sure that these dangerous strangers saying "hello" as I walked home from school were in fact about to abduct me and do something odd with my private region. According to Constable Care everyone I didn't know was suss.

The thing Constable Care neglected to mention was that most kiddies who get abused, get abused by someone they know. Maybe Constable Care should have instead warned about Peculiar Piano Teacher Danger or Drunken Uncle Danger.

I think Constable Care's message has made Australia a very unfriendly place. We're all way too scared and suspicious of each other to do something as dangerous as strike up a conversation.

Constable Care is probably to blame for my shy, awkward phase and for countless rejections from girls I didn't know, who were it not for this perceived stranger danger, have fallen for me instantly. Constable Care is probably why people drink so much before having the courage to talk to other. I blame him for social networking too. Why else would people retreat to their computer room and spend their lives emailing a bunch of people they sort of know?

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Um... I don't quite get it

I just watched an ad for "Platinum tampons". The seductive voice-over encouraged viewers to "move up to platinum style". Now I always believed tampons were a product you shoved up your vagina when bleeding. WHY THE HELL DOES THAT PRODUCT NEED TO BE STYLISH? I spend a lot of time writing bullshit but that's a pretty big stretch. Unless it has one of those little pink cocktail umbrellas that unfolds from one end it I just don't believe a tampon can differentiate itself on the basis of style.

Lifestyles of the rich and famous

In the 80's filthy rich people were very happy about being filthy rich. They bought lots or ridiculous shit and then invited the good people of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" around to show it off to the rest of the world. They had helipads, massive pools and TV's that were almost as big as normal people have today. Greed was good and they didn't have to feel self-conscious about it. Checking out all their ridiculous shit was awesome TV, especially because of the voice over guy's mega cool voice.

Now however filthy rich people aren't happy about being filthy rich. Instead of getting around in crazy pink Lamborghinis they are likely to get round in some earth-saving Prius and instead of shooting game, taxidermying the heads and hanging them from the wall, they spend their time adopting little kids from poor countries and shielding them from paparazzi.

I reckon if you are a multi-billionaire you should fuck immunising the world's poor and instead build a polo field on top of the penthouse of your amazingly tall building and you should also have a crazy big pool in the shape of a dollar sign that is filled with supermodels dressed up as mermaids.

Sunday, August 15, 2010


Don't you love it when laziness rewards you? I just went to Woolies to get half a bbq chook. There was one guy at the deli counter and fair few people waving those stupid little numbers around (personally I'm in favour of a free for all system where tall people and pushy Chinese ladies reap the rewards). When lucky 104 came up the dude came over and I said "can I get half a chicken mate?". There were no pre-cut chickens and he clearly couldn't be arsed cutting one up, loading half a carcass into a tray and cleaning up a pair of chicken shears. I can't say I blame him. He came up with a way better solution and just gave me the whole chicken for half price. Awesomeness never ends.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Joining the 21st century

Part of me wants to go chuck my laptop and phone off something very high, then survive by spearing small marsupials. It would be a far fucking simpler way to live however my shoulder is really dodgy and I don't think my spear throwing skills would keep me adequately nourished.

Hence I have now made the decision to stay a part of the 21st century. Today I got a new phone which has GPS, email, Internet, a 5 megapixel camera and a whole lot of other fancy shit including a tiny Qwerty keypad designed for Smurfs or some other wee thing (I love it how Scottish people always say wee).

I have also been nerdy enough to change my web browser to Chrome and I've put little sharing buttons down the bottom of this blog. I still don't think I can bring myself to sign up for facebook or twitter because I really don't have that many thoughts worth sharing.

Tomorrow I might just dress up in some shiny futuristic alfoil kind of outfit and chow down on some space food sticks (I know they are 80's but they still seem way 2020)

Saturday, August 7, 2010


When I was at school I wasn’t overly keen on debating but now the idea is appealing to me more and more. I think it is something about having the opportunity to fully flesh out an idea and then crush your opponent with logic.

It’s quite disappointing that arguments with your partner are not structured in the same way as a school debate. You should get a gull three minutes to say your piece without interruption; then take notes while they make their argument and then have an opportunity for rebuttal. Of course, there should also be an independent adjudicator to decide upon a winner. To avoid having the same arguments over and over, once a topic has been debated once it would never have to be debated ever again.

The problem with arguments in a relationship is that people tend to debate dirty and logic gets thrown out the window. A suggestion that an argument is stupid can often get reinterpreted as a suggestion that the other party is stupid. Some people raise their voices, some get defensive and some walk out of the room. In extreme cases some can resort to crying and then no quantity of reasoning is ever going to win.

Having proper debates between couples could actually work really well as a TV show. Essentially the best TV is about conflict and what better conflict is there than that that has been going on between the same people for twenty years? I’d start the show with a brief behind the scenes look at Bob and Thelma and a review of the issues they have been fighting about. There would then be a mini debate between each ad break. For debate 1 the topic might be “Thelma spends too much time at the bowlo drinking and playing pokies”. Debate 2 might be “Bob’s obsessive interest in toy trains is unhealthy”. The final debate may be “We should just put down Greta the Irish Setter rather than paying for the operation”. Tell me that wouldn’t be compelling?

I’d also have the worm like in the election coverage. To rake in extra bucks people would be able to vote by premium SMS.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Frickin smoke alarms

Happily drunk and fast asleep in a warm bed with fresh sheets. It was just how it should be at 4am on Saturday morning. But then the frickin smoke alarm started stabbing at my brain. "My battery is dying, my battery is dying, come fix me, come fix me". Every ten minutes the bastard started screaming at me like some annoying child (seriously how do parents deal with that crap). Eventually I had to drag myself out of my cosy bed, balance on a chair and rip the annoying bastard off the ceiling.

This led me to think, there are probably fewer people that die from house fires than die from falling off ladders while attempting to quiet the screech of smoke alarms in a half-awake drunken state.

Those that do die from house fires are normally:
(a) people who smoke in bed - if you are that addicted to smoking chances are you going to die pretty soon anyway.
(b) people with alzheimers who forgot they left all the highly combustible stuff next to a dodgy fifty year old heater - again likely to die pretty soon anyway.
(c) people who deep fry a lot of stuff - if you cook a lot of chips and are too fat to outrun a kitchen fire you are no doubt due for a massive heart attack.

Is the life saving potential of this device really worth it destroying my sleep? Possibly, but is it worth it destroying the peace and quiet every time I cook a steak? I'm not rushing straight out for a new battery...

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

My awesome superpower

I think everyone has something that they are just a bit special at. Maybe you have a knack for judging exactly how long each ad break is going to be. Perhaps you can judge when an avacado is at its perfect ripeness or possibly you can urinate with extreme accuracy. My personal superpower is catching stuff that is falling. I just tripped over my laptop cord which yanked my laptop off the coffee table. For those whithout my superpower this could have been a problem but I was able to latch on to it in a super speedy manner way before impact. The other day I went to put something in the cupboard and a bag of cashews fell out. Despite having my hands full I managed to catch the cashews on my foot a full 20cm above the floor. I don't know if my feet were any cleaner than the floor but I was still pretty proud that my superpower had kicked in yet again.

Looking back on how I gained this superpower, I don't think it was in the usual ways of being born on another planet or having been exposed to nuclear material. Instead I think it was that I played the Mickey Mouse Game and Watch way too much when I was a kid. The game had four chickens all laying eggs and Mickey would have to catch the eggs before they went splat on the ground. Those chickens laid eggs faster and faster as the game went on so I had to be pretty awesome to keep Mickey catching all the way up the Pacific Highway to Expo 88. My brother had the Donkey Kong Game and Watch. I bet he is super good at jumping barrels.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010


Who the hell camps out to get an iPhone? Nerds - that's who.

When you see the people lined up they are invariably all awkward men who would be turned away from night clubs. Perhaps they just like lining up somewhere where they know they will eventually get in.

What are they going to do when they get their new phone at midnight? Ring someone perhaps? I can just imagine the conversation:

"Guess what? I just got the new iPhone!!!!"
"Is this Eugene, the IT guy?"
"Yeah mate, I just got the new iPhone!"
"Eugene I'm not you'r mate and why the fuck are you calling me at this hour?"
"I just thought I'd tell you I got the new iPhone."
"Is that why you weren't at work today? Were you camping out for an iPhone?"
"Yeah, I was second in line!"
"Eugene, you're fired. Go shove your iPhone up your arse."

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

consider dying

There are a hell of a lot of ads on tv encouraging people to take out funeral insurance. This annoys me on a number of levels.

The first is that a large segment of the population that has nothing better to do than watch Kerri-Anne and worry about when they are going to croke. If you've made to retirement age you should be out having fun, doing all those things you didn't get to do when you were working. Or at least you should be down the bowlo sinking middies.

Secondly it is a dumb concept. If you are dead you aren't going to have to pay any bills. Sure, your family might have to pay but they will probably inherit your awesome stamp collection so isn't that fair? If they can't fork out the money the government won't just leave you rotting either. I don't know the particulars but you can probably get cremated free or pay it off HECS style.

Thirdly it is a fucking ripp off. Unless you take out the insurance and die within about two weeks you are going to end up paying far too much for your funeral.

Fourthly it is commonly flogged in infomercials starring Ian Turpie. Do you really want your money ending up in the pocket of a game show host and peddler of dodgy impotence treatments?

I think a better option would be to just have cut-price funerals where you have a ute instead of a hearse and a fridge box instead of a coffin. People could also just pick some daisies rather than having some expensive wreath. That way the whole thing would only cost $50 bucks and any extra money lying in your wallet could be spent on those yummy mini pies for the wake.

Frickin Masterchef

I regularly used to go in to Adriano Zumbo's shop in Balmain to get my lunch or pick up a loaf of bread. Sadly I can't do that anymore because there's a queue 30 metres out the door and I don't have half an our to stand around while Masterchef fans piss about deciding between the olive and guava flavoured macaroons. I wish he had never been invited on that show. Today I had to settle for a chikken tikka roll. Sad.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Freak Spotting

I love freak spotting but I can't normally be bothered to stay up late when most of them come out to shine. Thankfully I live just 300 metres from Marrickville Metro were freaks come out to shop. Today I saw a 70 year Cyndi Lauper wannabe wearing high heels and lacy leggings. I then spotted a massive goth chick pushing a stroller with a child that had a far better tan than her mum. Then there was someone who looked like they were from Avatar but wasn't so blue and a pit bull with green zinc on its nose. Sometimes I get so distracted I forget to buy anything.

Politics for dumb people

Are you happy to be "moving forward"? Somehow I just don't think we really are.

The thing is I was watching Julia outline her climate change policy the other day and our esteemed leading lady began by saying "It's just like someone going on The Biggest Loser."

Comparing businesses cutting carbon emissions to fatties cutting their calorie intake demonstrates the true genius of Julia. She knows that if you dumb it down enough "middle Australia" might just begin to understand. I can just imagine in living rooms all around Mt Druitt there are people saying "Aw fuck yeah, now I get it. How come no one ever explained it like that before?"

I think she should come up with some more good analogies. Maybe for her refugee policy she could say "Just imagine if you are having a barbie and some people rock up uninvited. Basically what we do is have some bouncers who'd drag 'em off and lock them in the neigbours chook shed. The neighbours haven't agreed yet but it shouldn't be any probs."

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Kitchen Essentials

I was in Woolworths and I saw a big sign advertising "Kitchen Essentials - Avacado Slicer". Essential? Really? How the fuck did I get through 32 years without one? Oh yeah, I used a knife...

Friday, June 25, 2010

Forget the leaky boat

If you really want to escape your country you could:
a) give your life savings to a people smuggler, get on an overcrowded leaky boat, cross the high seas and find your way to a remote detention centre.
b) work on your backhand.

Watching Wimbledon I'm seeing chicks like Rodionova and Groth following in the footsteps of that other true blue Aussie, Jelena Dokic. I'm kind of glad that we have someone to cheer for but I just wish in the post match interview they would learn to say something like "I feel tops. That last set was a bloody ripper."

It's not just tennis either. If you are anyone capable of bringing glory to this country we'll wrap you up in green and gold and express post you a passport. Kosta Tszyu you're true blue. Tatiana Grigorieva you are dinky di as. If you are awesome at sport come on down. We want you.

I'm really hoping Sri Lanka might produce a good leg spinning all rounder.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Australia - you got what you deserved

I don’t know if the average Aussie is incredibly na├»ve or just fucking dumb. What happened to KRudd suggests both. The man put up a mining tax which would have meant billions of bucks being paid by big corporations rather than the average Joe. It should have been a sure-fire vote winner. “Do you want someone else to pay your tax?” I’d expect “Yes fucking please” to be the typical response.

The mining companies were obviously not too keen on it. In what must have been one of the most successful campaigns of all time they managed to convince the average Joes that having billionaires pick up a bit more of the tab was a terrible idea. They did such a good job of this that most weren’t prepared to vote for a man who made such a ludicrous proposal.

Thus we have Julia. I believe Julia would look right at home running a tuck shop but she seems well out of place running the country. Unfortunately she was so unattractive and awkward that she never got a chance to push out some ginga devil child and send it to a suburban primary school.

Monday, June 21, 2010

The problems with soccer

Soccer players are like spoilt little rich kids - soft, cry baby whingers who get rewarded when they roll around on the floor chucking a tantrum. The referees are naive parents, easily conned by this type of behaviour. I don't want to see more namby-pamby red cards and divers rolling around clutching their faces. The game would be a shitload better if we got rid of the refs altogether and let men be men.

If you get paid $5 million bucks a year you should also be able to kick a ball in a goal. How are there so many 0 - 0 draws? It's like staying up to watch a Swedish movie on SBS, getting through the whole thing and not seeing any tits - extremely disappointing. We should just make the goals massive so the overpaid wankers can actually hit the bloody things.

I think they also need cheerleaders. Watching people back pass to the goalie is deadly boring and some hot chicks with pompoms would be a welcome distraction. Some streakers would also be ace.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Sandra, that's just sad.

I've got nothing against chicks pashing. After all chicks lips are soft and tasty and who wouldn't want to kiss them? Girls pashing in an attention-seeking, cliched, scripted way at an awards ceremony is however pathetic and annoying. It's been done. I think it was Madonna and Britney, then it was someone else and now it's Sandra Bullock and Scarlett Johansson. It's like Speed 2 Sandra - you just shouldn't have signed up for it.

There are far more original things you could have done. You could have headbutted Scarlett, thrown up on her or squeezed her nipple until she let out a small high pitched shriek. If you really wanted to play on the whole lesbian thing you could have emerged from behind the podium with a large strap-on and bent her over. I don't care. Just do something original.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Israels makes poor decisions

I'm no expert on international affairs but from a pure public relations perspective shooting the shit out of an aid convoy doesn't seem like a very smart thing to do. Israel didn't sound particularly remorseful either. I'd of thought the least they could do was write a big card to Gaza saying "sorry for getting all trigger happy and killing all those people who were trying to help you out. Hope we can still be friends. Lots of love, Israel XOX."

Israel Folau has also made a ridiculously stupid decision. If you are the best player in league, why would you waste three years of your career playing GayFL in the western suburbs? At least if you go to union you could play in a World Cup or live somewhere fun like Paris while spending your millions. He may be awesome at AFL but that's a bit like being awesome at netball.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Places to buy Coke

The other week I went to the Botanic Gardens to watch Jessica Watson sail in. She took her bloody time so I went to buy a bottle of coke. It cost $4.50 for a small bottle and I had to refrain from asking Vincent Vega style "That's $4.50 for a coke? a plain coke? You don't put bourbon in that?" It angered me deeply that it was so expensive. It also angered me that the whole of Sydney hadn't turned up in monkey suits so Jessica Watson would come home to a Planet of the apes scenario.

I hate getting ripped off so I like to frequent places that aren't set up to arse rape tourists. Among the places I like to buy a can of coke are the fruit store at Marrickville ($1), the bargain store at Ashfield ($1) and Enmore Delicious Rolls ($1 with the purchase of a delicious roll).

Today I also bought a can from the African hairdresser on the corner of Enmore Road and King Street. It had a big sign out front saying $1.40 cans. Their fridge was really well stocked but didn't work so I had to fish around in an esky. Then they didn't have change in the cash register so the old African lady spent about five minutes fishing around in her purse. Then she charged me $1.60. Dodge. I should have gone to the cop shop 100 metres away. They have cans for $1.20 and you get to check out all the interesting criminals as they come in.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Making Australia a Better Place

I felt that it was about time I started doing something for this country and to get the ball rolling I thought I'd send my ideas to a real mover and shaker. Below is the email I just sent to the Minister for the Arts (and former Midnight Oil frontman) Peter Garrett.

Dear Peter,

I know you have experienced your difficulties since being a Minister but I’d like to propose an idea that would allow you to make Australia a better place and restore your reputation as a tower of awesomeness.

For too long it seems like Australia’s arts budget has been squandered on overpriced paintings by dead French guys and obscure cultural events only ever attended by wankers with trendy haircuts and designer square-framed glasses. My idea would shift this focus and allow art to be enjoyed by people with beer guts, tattoos and not all of their front teeth.

My concept is Sculpture by the Freeway. It would involve large sculptures being plonked alongside every freeway at regular intervals of every ten kilometres or so. I believe there are many reasons why it would work.

1) It is already a proven concept. The highlight of every holiday I ever had was seeing the Big Merino, the Big Pineapple or the Big Prawn. The only crap bit was waiting 300 km for the next massive sculptural thing beside the road.

2) Our roads are boring. I’m assuming you drive down to Canberra a fair bit and can thoroughly understand where I’m coming from. At least with some works of art along the way, the drive would feel more like a gallery visit and less like a massive waste of time.

3) Sculptures are better than McDonalds ads. When kids are in a car all they see out the window is paddocks and massive billboards advising the distance to the next Maccas. With childhood obesity such a problem we should give the little fatties something to look forward to other than a thick shake.

4) Truckies deserve culture. Driving an interstate rig generally doesn’t allow much time to pop into a gallery but if my idea was adopted truckies’ lives would soon become filled with art.

5) Tourists would get a better impression. From out the window of a bus Australia appears to be a really big dry place scattered with sheep, the occasional bogan and the odd bit of marsupial road kill. Sculptures could certainly help liven the joint up a bit.

I really think you should make Sculpture by the Freeway a central part of your next election campaign. Aussies are tired of hearing politicians squabble over tax, climate change and immigration. We want something visionary. We want some bloody great big sculptures lining our boring roads!

Best of luck with it all.


Jamie Watson

P.S. Your dancing is tops.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Pretty fuckin far from okay

SBS has done a lot of great things. They've brought us Tour de France coverage, saucy subtitled films and a whole lot of cool outfits for Lee Lin Chin. Last night however I was flicking past and saw something that, in the words of Marcellus Wallis, was "pretty fuckin far from okay". In the half a second that SBS flashed on the screen I saw a scalpel cutting into something which looked very much like a penis. Naturally I changed the channel incredibly fast, curled into a ball and averted my eyes from the screen.

At this point Katy changed the channel back to SBS and discovered it was an anatomy show where some freaky German doctor cuts up dead people in front of a live audience. Peering through my fingers I saw the doctor grab hold of a testicle and start to cut it in half. Call me squeamish but at this point I ran to the bathroom, turned on the shower to drown out the doctor's voice and tried my best to think happy thoughts. Katy just kept watching and eating her ice cream.

My thinking is that if that there are to be willies on a television screen they should:
a) belong to living people
b) not have any sharp implements anywhere near them
c) have only the external part of the willy visible
d) have a vagina in the same screen shot

By the way, when I die I do not want my body cut up on global television. Instead I plan on having my ashes mixed into some concrete and made into a park bench.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Japanese beer?

I thought my Sapporo beer might be brewed somewhere like Sapporo, Japan. It's actually brewed in Ontario, Canada. I feel a bit like someone who has accidently taken home a lady-boy.

The benefits of money

I just drove to the bottle shop and bought a slab of Japanese beer. On my way back I saw some poor student looking guy walking back from the bottle shop with a slab of Tooheys New. Sadly the bottom had fallen out of the box and he was having to salvage what he could from the footpath. While I felt bad for him it made me truly appreciate the benefits of having money. I'm sure my expensive wanker beer will taste even better now.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Annoying Apple

I just sent this email to the product development people at iPhone. Hopefully they can come up with something.

I am hoping you can help me with a problem that I have long had with my phone. You see, I like to wear skinny jeans but when I put my wallet and keys in the pockets I just can’t cram a phone in there without walking funny.

I developed a really good solution to this problem when I strapped the phone to my pet parrot Percy. I would walk down the street and Percy would fly above me or perch on my shoulder carrying my phone. When I sat in the beer garden of the pub he would perch in the tree above and when the phone rang he would fly down so I could answer it. It worked really well. After a bit of training I got Percy to the point where he could answer the phone and repeat what the person on the other end was saying. I’d hear him say “Frosty here, wanna play golf?” or some such and I would yell out “yeah mate” and then Percy would repeat it then hang up. This worked out well for me because I like short conversations. It also worked out much better for Percy because he was quite old and flying up and down from the tree made him tired, especially with the extra weight of the phone.

Sadly one day when we were coming back from the pub a big mean alley cat spied Percy and decided to have a swipe at him. Percy started to fly away but because of the weight of the phone he couldn’t really go that fast or high and the alley cat attacked him, killing him and getting blood and feathers all over my phone.

I was thinking that perhaps you guys could build a flying phone so that I can still wear my skinny jeans and not have to carry my phone. Or maybe you can just build a lighter phone that’s easier for a bird to carry.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

The Spit Bridge

I had to wait today for the Spit Bridge to open and let all the rick wankers in their fancypants yachts motor through. It annoyed me and I thought there has to be a better way. The obvious solution is to build another bridge which is taller but I'm sure that's going to be way hard and expensive.

What I think would be better is to install a massive fan underneath the bridge and make all the wanker yachties actually put up their sails and sail underneath it. The massive fan would force the yachts to go over on an angle thus allowing them to pass safely underneath the bridge. The wankers would have some fun and I could drive without stopping for them.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


Let's face it - women's sport is generally pretty second rate and that's why it never gets any ratings on tv. Watching an ad on Fuel Sport I did however notice a concept in women's sport that intrigued me deeply.

The Lingerie Football League is pure brilliance. Hot chicks not wearing much, playing a contact sport - I think I can get into that. I just don't know who to support. San Diego Seduction, Dallas Desire or maybe Orlando Fantasy?

People may think the whole thing is sexist but I believe it is quite empowering. Instead of wearing a skimpy outfit and cheering on the boys, the girls get to wear a skimpy outfit and actually compete.

I'd quite like to see Caster Semenya get a go in the LFL. Sure she may not be 100% female but she'd be fucking quick and she would bring the sport to the attention of a wider international audience.

Frickin bike shop

My mountain bike has been in the shop for a week and a half because they can't find a little tiny bolt that holds the brake pads in. Now I won't be able to go riding on the weekend and will probably have to do something crap like clean the house or go to the shops. Stupid bolt. You suck.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

It's nice

Back in my early teen years Basic Instict came out on VHS. Being pubescent I was naturally curious about what was on display in the infamous leg uncrossing scene. As such I waited for the exact right moment, pressed pause, squinted and tried to work out what the hell was in that blurry region. Eventually I gave up.

Today however Basic Instict came on Foxtel and as I looked at the large screen high definition LCD you could actually work out a whole lot more. Amazing.

Kids are pretty spoiled these days. Not only do they get to see Sharon's pussy clearer, they get video porn online whenever they want. When they actually want to communicate with real girls, they also don't have to stand with a shaky hand dialling the home phone and then having her dad ask twenty questions. I hate young people.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Alternate uses for exercise bikes

I love the fact that Carl Williams was murdered with an exercise bike. I thought you could only use exercise bikes in one way, but no. I reckon it would of used up a fair few calories to beat the shit out of someone with a heavy piece of equipment. It probably also gave more of a whole body workout. I guess the only problem is that the exercise bike is then likely to be taken away as evidence. They are probably unlikely to buy a replacement one either so you'd probably have to start murdering with the treadmill which would be way more awkward.

I'd like to see a new version of Cluedo where an exercise bike is one of the potential murder weapons.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Greatest Hits of Art

I was down in Canberra on the weekend and there were thousands of people queued up to see the works of some famous dead French men. This disappointed me immensely.

The fact is dudes like Van Gogh and Monet have been hogging the limelight for way too long. People aren’t going to see their paintings for any other reason but the fact that they have been told that their art is important. Art should never be important. The message an artwork conveys may have a degree of importance but sometimes a picture of a vase of flowers is just a picture of a vase of flowers. Should someone being shelling out $90 million for it? To me none of the artworks in that exhibition say anything other than the fact that we are more concerned with fame than any degree of revelation. It is a fucking greatest hits collection.

I think we should have a gallery where signed works are not permitted. No artist is important. No famous name will get you hung. If you produce an artwork that is amazing it gets in there. Crap Picasso’s don’t.

People go to Paris and are universally disappointed by the Mona Lisa. That’s because it is a ridiculously over-hyped picture of some ugly chick. If you want to see an amazing picture at the Louvre Check out Raft of the Medusa. It’s epic and you won’t have to battle the crowds to see it. The favourite artwork I saw in Paris was however at the Centre Pompidou. It was of a donkey on a boat in the middle of a lake. I don’t know who the artist was but he/she is someone brilliant. As well as being visually striking the work raises so many questions. How did the donkey get on the boat? Does the donkey realise he’s potentially quite fucked? Is the donkey annoyed that his hooves are too cumbersome to operate the outboard motor? Now that’s art.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

To God we are just telemarketers

It annoys me when telemarketers ring me up during the middle of the day and then ask me to donate to some charity. So how annoying must it be for God to have billions of people praying to him every day, asking for stuff? Can you stop this famine? Can you restore my sight? Can you prevent my daughter from becoming a crack whore? It must never end.

Really, it’s no wonder he never responds any more. He’s probably having a great time up in heaven playing nude twister with supermodels or something and people keep trying to disrupt him. I reckon that we should all just stop praying and give the poor dude a break.

Wow. While searching for telemarketer images I found one of a guy on a barcycle with a generator. Awesome.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Rocketcar Day

I used to think Christmas was pretty good. I also really looked forward to my birthday. Now however I have a new favourite day of the year.

Today while walking home from Marrickville with piles of shopping (including a massive Moreton Bay bug and a bottle Gelignite Jack’s Dynamite Dishwashing Liquid) we stumbled across Roacketcar Day. Rocketcar Day is awesome. For starters it involves rocketcars and by their very nature rocketcars have to be awesome. If you say to someone “want to see my rocketcar?” they’re going to want see your rocketcar – unless they are some kind of stuck up bitch.

The rocketcars come in an absolutely awesome array of designs. You may think I am using the word awesome a bit liberally but these rocketcars really were pretty damn awesome. There were Easter bunny rocketcars, miniature shopping trolley rocketcars, roller-skate rocketcars and even a fancy lobster rocketcar. It was art coming together with sport coming together with science. Best of all, the rockets are noisy and shoot flames out the back and propel the rocketcars quickly in random directions. Check out the slow motion video on the rocketcarday website to get a taste of it.

Passively smoke ganga, drink beer, enjoy a bit of sausage sizzle action and watch a sporting event that is about a million times more interesting than the Melbourne Cup. Rocketcar day – I can’t believe I have to wait a year till the next one.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Making Fashion More Interesting

Mannequins are always so lifeless - well obviously (unless they are in some bad 80’s movie with that slag from Sex and the City). It kind of annoys me how they are all just standing about looking all perfect, wearing their cool clothes and staring vacantly in to the distance. I’d like to see imperfect mannequins - mannequins with cold sores and pimples and razor rash; mannequins with a beer gut or a muffin top or a weird birthmark on their face. I don’t want them to be just standing their either. They should be doing dances, doffing their cap at passers by or if the robotics people get really good, juggling.

It also annoys me how runway models are always stick thin beautiful young things who just put on a pissed off look as they strut. Were I a fashion designer and I wanted to get a huge amount of press coverage I’d use people with down syndrome. For starters it would be way more fun because the models would all walk in different ways and do all sorts of cool unexpected things when they got to the end of the runway. It would also be controversial which is exactly what is required should you want to be cutting edge. It would also be a true test of design. If you can make a downie model look sharp it’s an awesome piece of clothing.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Childhood Joy

I was at the supermarket the other day and checking out the easter eggs and they all looked kind of tempting but then I saw that a block of chocolate was actually way more economical. A 200 gram easter egg is probably about twice the cost as a 200 gram block of chocolate. So did I go for the block or the egg?

I went for neither because I realised the fact that I was even evaluating all this shit meant that I had lost the whole joy of it anyway. When you were a kid all the possibilities were amazing. Little eggs in a basket, a big football sized egg, a bunny shaped chocolate or my personal favourite - the egg filled up with smarties. There was no concern about the price of the chocolate, whether it was shithouse quality or whether eating a kilo of chocolate in the space of two days would have adverse health effects.

That's the awesome thing about childhood. You can be completely selfish and just do whatever makes you happy. If the slightest thing annoys you just scream and violently lash out until you get your way.

Adults suck. I'm going to buy myself some fuck off big egg and eat it in one go. Then I'm going to lick some cake mix...

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Intellectual Junk Food

We are all becoming stupid self-obsessed wankers and I blame our intellectual diets. Celebrity bullshit, “talent” shows and contests where overly emotional idiots gradually get knocked out should be at the very top of our intellectual food pyramid but for far too many these are taking up the cereals and grains slot down the bottom.

Every time we tune in to find out which fatty shed a pound or which castaway won immunity we are feeding our brains intellectual KFC. As a result our brains are getting fucking fat and unattractive.

I spend far too much time watching the idiot box but from now on when some greasy, high fat show comes on I’m picking up a book and chowing down on that.

Bring Back Bob-a-Job

Back in the day when you had a job you really couldn’t be fucked doing you saved it up for bob a job. Some little ten year old scout would knock on the door and you could pay them a token amount to clean your gutters, sweep out the backyard or clip the nails of your pit bull. What a completely awesome scheme!

I need someone to clean out under the house and I’d rather that someone was cheap, able to easily fit in to small spaces and wearing a woggle. Sadly bob a job has been axed because everyone is freaked out about kiddy fiddlers or something.

Scouts now probably just sell chocolate or some shit. That’s not helping me. I can get chocolate cheaper from the supermarket. The people need dirty deeds done dirt cheap and kids need to harden the fuck up with a wee bit of manual labour.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Barcycle

I like the idea of having an exercise bike so I can stay a wee bit active while watching TV. The problem is that they are all really big, ugly and unsuited to my living room. The Barcycle will solve my problems. A cross between a bar stool and an exercise bike, the barcycle will be totally frickin ace and hopefully make me rich like Bill Gates. Well mayby not that rich. I just don't understand how crap software can make heaps of money and something cool like a barcycle doesn't. Still maybe I can go on the New Inventors and get fame amongst old nannies who watch the ABC a lot.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Planes shit me

I just went to Melbourne and it annoys me how long it takes to get there. If I operated an airline I reckon I could slash door to door travel times by half. The first thing I'd do is get rid of schedules. Instead I'd just have five planes that go back and forth all day long. As soon as one fills up with passengers it takes off. You just get to the airport when you get there - not an hour before the departure time plus a safety margin of another 30 minutes because you are freaked out that your ticket will be revoked if there's a traffic jam.

The next thing I'd do is ban check in baggage. Instead I'd just have an open section at the back of the plane where people sit on their stupid oversized suitcases.

After that I would get rid of all this taxiing the planes do. Why the hell do you need to do 3 laps of the airport before you take off? I'd also make the planes take off in the direction they are heading. Going to Melbourne? Go south. Going to Brisbane? Go north. It's simple.

Australia it's time to be awesome

I’ve always been a tad embarrassed by the Australian flag. Having another country’s flag in the corner feels a bit like wearing some sad hand-me-down. Your brother’s name is still on it but mum has just sewn on a few stars to make it special (and then she’s gone and made another for your sister but has put red bits in the middle of the stars).

If we want to be looked upon seriously in this world we need an image change. To get our flag looking way fancier than all the other sad old flags I thought that ours should be in 3D! After all, how awesome would it be to have a boxing kangaroo that actually looks like its punching you in the face?

Then I thought the 3D thing is probably just a bit of a fad and we should look at where the future is headed. Now I’m thinking a moving hologram containing a montage of memorable Aussie moments should be used to represent our country. So what would be contained in this montage?

First and foremost I think we need something that asserts our superiority over England so I suggest Shane Warne’s famous stump dance that he performed after claiming the Ashes at Trent Bridge (either that or the Gatting ball which was just hasn’t been replayed enough for my liking).

Then I think we should have a holographic replay of Jen Hawkins losing her skirt as she walks down the runway. Not only would this demonstrate that we are a land of great natural beauty – it would also show how we can carry on in the face of adversity.

I would then like to see the red kangaroo going nuts on Marty the Monster. This is without a doubt the greatest moment in Australian television history and would also serve to show that we have fierce fauna that deserves respect.

Obviously we also need to change the anthem. So that people from across the world can sing along I’d suggest something from AC/DC. How good would that be when we won gold at the Olympics? People would be willing us on just so they could join in on our anthem while watching the hologram.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Lasers are pretty awesome

It seems lasers can do anything. I just saw an ad for a laser hair treatment that regrows hair on bald people 96% of the time. That amazes me because they have laser hair removal that is supposed to get rid of unwanted hair forever. How the fuck do the lasers know what they are supposed to be doing? If they get mixed up your girlfriend could quickly end up looking like Angry Anderson with a huge bush.

I'm happy that lasers are in such high use these days. Every old movie that showed life in the future had flying cars, people in shiny jump suits and lasers. Now we are in the future people still wear jeans and drive on the road but at least they are getting their bits zapped by lasers. I'm hoping pretty soon to have a mini light sabre just for chopping up vegetables and stuff. It wouldn't be as cool as a flying car but it would be pretty fucking cool.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

stupid, good for nothing, pain in the arse, low class, cry baby bitch.

First it was Mitch Johnson’s mum and now it is Lara fricking Bingle fucking it up for our cricket team. Women of Australia I urge you to exercise some emotional stability if you are in any way involved with one of our cricketers. Your histrionics are not fair on the players, not fair on the team and not fair on your fellow Australians.

I know the Bingle situation has been analysed to death but let me analyse it some more with my top five reasons why Lara Bingle is a stupid, good for nothing, pain in the arse, low class, cry baby bitch.

1. If I had acquired a luxury Bondi Penthouse and an Aston Martin having never really done anything in my life besides a 5 second appearance on a tourism ad I think I’d act with a little more gratitude.

2. Being upset about the publication of a naked picture is a bit rich when your job mostly involves baring your bits for the cameras. It’s extra rich when you then accept $200,000 for an interview with the magazine that published the photo.

3. Pup has an exulted position as the vice captain of the Australian cricket team. He’s got an important job to do and having some whinging bitch disrupting things really won’t help with his cut shot.

4. Ever heard of a phone? Why make Pup leave the tour when you could just ring up and say “it’s over. I’ll leave the ring in the little bowl on the kitchen counter. Sorry for being such an annoying bitch this whole time…”

5. Giving the press the finger is not at all classy and not really very smart. If you are constantly in the media spotlight you should have an inkling of how to behave when cameras are pointed in your direction.

Lara, the only way you can ever redeem yourself is by hooking up with Kevin Peiterson and annoying the crap out of him during the Ashes so he gets a series of ducks.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Shameful Shamwow

Infomercials can be quite compelling and encourage all sorts or weird desires. Without a doubt the most compelling infomercial of late has been that for Shamwow. I mean who’d have thought you could spill coca cola on a piece of white shag pile and simply suck it straight up with a towel? That’s really impressive. The dude presenting it is also so ultra persuasive that by the end of it you feel like an idiot for not owning one.

The main thing that stopped me buying a Shamwow was that I didn’t want to be a person who bought stuff off infomercials (especially something that had the word sham right there in its name). The other factor was that they cost $50 plus $10 postage which just seems like massive a rip off.

Today however I noticed the Shamezee at a Marrickville discount store. It costs just $5. Bargain! Doing my research online I worked out that the Shamezee is actually a cheaper version of the Shameze which is a cheaper version of the Shamwow. The box doesn’t mention what country the Shamezee is made in but it does say you’ll find a limited 10 year warranty inside. Sadly there is none so I’m just hoping my Shamezees manage to hang together and soak up my spillages for the next decade.

There is a 9 minute Youtube video comparing the Shamwow to the Shameze but after a minute and a half of viewing I realised that my life was sad, meaningless and disturbingly pathetic.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Gary the zebra fucker

Gary was a lion. He could kill all sorts of animals but he just wasn’t big or tough enough to win a fight with Bruce. This sucked because it meant Bruce got to fuck all the lionesses while Gary got nothing.

As the months and years passed by the sexual frustration built. He started having all these weird fantasies that just wouldn’t go away. Then one day as he was bringing down a zebra he decided that before he killed it he might do the unthinkable. Gary became a zebra fucker.

Rumours of Gary’s zebra fucking quickly circulated and Gary found himself shunned from the pride. Every day Daphne the lioness would taunt him by saying “what’s the matter Gary, is my arse not stripey enough for you?” Whenever Bruce saw him he would say “Go fuck a zebra you fucking zebra fucker.”

Gary tried to redeem himself by killing lots of animals for the pride but no one would eat them because they all suspected the offerings were filled with jiz. Gary was forced to leave the pride.

Gary left the savannah behind and headed for the city, where he soon found lots of other zebra fuckers. There he drank lots of cocktails, danced to repetitive music, fucked lots of zebras and even participated in the zebra fucker pride march. Gary felt truly happy for the first time.

Thursday, February 25, 2010


As people get older they spend more time discussing their medical problems. I think part of it might be that they have more medical problems but a lot of it is because their lives become more boring and they have far fewer interesting things to talk about.

I might be falling apart but I’m making a vow not to discuss my dodgy back, fallen arches, migraines or other mystery ailments. It’s boring and as I spend not enough time conversing with people I think I should make an effort to say something interesting when I do.

“What have you been up to?” is a terrible way to start a conversation to anyone over the age of about 16 because inevitably they will come back with “just working, you know, the usual.” Ask an 8 year old and you might get to hear about how they have been amputating wings of cicadas but if you talk to a 30 year old it will just descend into some miserable catalogue of complaints about how much work sucks. I also have a terrible memory and if people ask me what I’ve been up to I have NFI.

From now on I’m going with “What’s new - any big plans?” as my opening gambit. This way people have the chance to verbalise things which they actually have a passion for and you could end up having a conversation about any number of interesting things. They might be considering buying a bunny rabbit, they might be training to climb Mt Kilimanjaro or they might be planning on knocking over the servo and would like your advice on where to buy a balaclava.

Discussing possibilities for the future is way more interesting than dry accounts of what people have been doing in the past. If “any big plans?” became the standard conversation starter people might end up having more plans. Once you verbalise an idea that’s been floating around in your head it also becomes more likely that you will act upon it. A simple change in the way we converse could thus result in everyone doing more stuff and having more interesting, fulfilling lives.

The other suggestion I have is to have conversations in French because conversations in French always sound really interesting and animated. The major downfall is that I can’t understand French. They are probably all just discussing medical problems and how much work sucks anyway.

Awesome Church

I was driving through Haberfield the other day and noticed the "Awesome Church". With such a bold piece of branding it seemed like it might be way more awesome than the Catholic Church or the Church of England. While already feeling spiritually fulfilled I was intrigued and checked out their website. Turns out they have a really fancy one. They also have their own TV shows and something called Divine Health.

The minister spruiking Divine Health doesn't give it the most ringing endorsement however. This is his thinking - "In hundreds of church services over the years I have seen thousands of believers come forward to receive healing prayer. An honest assessment of the results? Some have been healed; the majority have not been healed. Many times I have asked, why is this?

I'll tell you why. God, if he does indeed exist, just isn't listening to some bullshit "awesome" church. If you want to be healed you should go to a doctor. Failing that you might consider Chinese medicine. If you must start praying you should do it in some frigid church with terrible organ music, flat singing and rock hard pews. Once you've endured that for fifty years maybe then you can consider asking if the big guy will do you a favour. If you've been listening to Christian rock in the plush air-conditioned comfort of some slick marketer's idea of a church, I just don't think you've earned the right.

I'm sure the Awesome Church makes heaps of money. I think I might start up the Toally Ace Church and maybe even a Fully Sick Church in Sydney's south west.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Ear candles

Yesterday I had this weird buzzing in my head that made me think that I was actually a robot and some electrical component next to my left ear was continuously tripping. I was like a pissed off version of Dexter.

The more likely possibility was that my eardrum was finally rebelling against me probing cotton buds in there every day - I know it says you are not supposed to do it but how can anyone resist that lovely feeling of wiggling a short pole around inside a precious cavity? Anyway, it was really frickin annoying.

I considered getting some eardrops to fix the problem but no one likes the feeling of having liquid in their ear hole. Instead I thought I’d give an ear candle a try. Being a closet pyro the thought of having something burning stick in my head seemed like an awesome idea so I drove up to Bob’s Late Night Chemist and bought the most expensive set of ear candles ever (I haven’t bought ear candles before but $17 for two candles just seemed a bit over the odds).

Apart from having to watch TV from a weird angle the experience was pretty good. The candle makes a few hissing and crackling noises, brings a little warmth to your ear and smells a bit like a joss stick. I cut the candle open afterwards and there seemed to be lots of wax inside – I’m guessing it was from my ear but it could have from the candle.

Despite the cleansing effects my ear was still buzzing so I went to the doctor today and he gave me some eardrops. Effective but not nearly as fun.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Reaching out to a wider audience

Blogs are great but few people actually ever read them. Lots of people however buy crap online.

In an effort to get rid of our hideous shell water feature I recently put an ad on ebay for it. Now heaps have people have read my ridiculous description and I'm even getting randoms saying I should get a prize or something. Frankly, I'm just happy someone is going to stump up money for our stupid concrete clamshell.

I'm considering selling more stuff on ebay as a platform for my ranting. Then I could put a book together of all the different descriptions. The book probably wouldn't sell that well and I could put all the extra copies on ebay, thus completing a useless circle.

Been Caught Stealing

Personally I quite like the approach to theft prevention employed by our local grocer. Posting a big security camera picture of the offender and letting the world know that they've been caught stealing tampons is pure genius. Somehow I don't think shoplifting chick will be back next month...

The picture did give me an idea though. I think it would be cool to dress up in a burglar's outfit complete with an eye mask and beanie, then steal a torch. Then I'd dress up like a dog and steal a can of dog food. Then I'd go in as a monkey and steal a bunch of bananas. The pictures on the front of the store would be awesome!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Fixies are for fashion victims

Fixies are bikes designed for riding around a velodrome. They don’t have gears and they don’t have brakes because on a velodrome you don’t really need those things. Yes, they look all cool and minimalist but I just can’t explain why anyone would ride one around the streets - other than the fact that they are massive fashion victims.

Most fixies are created from people destroying perfectly functional road bikes. Just strip off the gears and the brakes and maybe get rid of the grip tape on the handlebars so you can burn the fuck out of your hands every time your beautiful piece of shit is left out in the sun. Smart.

I can understand the wankers in Melbourne doing it but Sydney has hills and how cool can you really look pushing your bike up some pathetic incline? Sydney also has mental drivers and whilst trying to avoid them I like to have all the braking power I can get hold of. After all how stylish can you look when you are on the asphalt bleeding?

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Tiger, you're not an addict.

Tiger is a billionaire athlete who spends a lot of nights away from his wife while on tour. He decided to spend a few of those nights screwing other women. It may not be nice that he cheats on his wife but I don't believe that means he has a psychological problem and needs to be locked away in a clinic for months. Everything these days gets blamed on psychological problems which are bullshit. Kids don't have ADHD - they are just annoying little shits that need a good firm talking too. People aren't fat because of a compulsive eating disorder - they're just greedy. Tiger's not a sex addict. He just likes to fuck.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Lowest Prices are Just the Beginning

I’ve thought about starting a business next door to Bunnings Warehouse. It would be called Bunnings Whorehouse and it would be staffed by the same unspectacular looking people as on the Bunnings ads. All the workers in my whorehouse would however be very Aussie and quite excited about tools. I’d do special prices for tradies and there would be heaps of parking for utes. There would have a sausage sizzle out the front. You’d leave feeling a little bit dirty and ripped off.


Yesterday I saw a young man running down King Street in a manner that suggested fairly strongly that he had stolen something. You see, the style of his run wasn’t that of a typical jogger - it was more like Ussain Bolt had suffered a bout of diarrhoea and was frantically looking for a toilet. The other giveaway was that he was holding something rather large under his shirt as he pissbolted past the other pedestrians.

Sadly I was driving at the time and could do little more than cast disapproving glances at him as we travelled down the street in the same direction. I really think it would have been fun to tackle the bastard and leave him lying flat on the footpath. After all, it’s been ages since I played my last game of rugby and I’m sure I’ve got a lot of bottled up aggression I could take out on someone like that. The fairly narrow footpaths would mean it would be hard for him to get in a sidestep and because he was holding something under his shirt he couldn’t fend on his left side. I’ve also bulked up a bit since the playing days so I reckon I could put a pretty good hit on.

I quite like the idea of vigilante justice. If more people were prepared to smash the crap out of thieves perhaps there would be less thieving. The general public would also feel happier because they have had the chance to take their anger out on some low down druggo thief. Our society has just become far too soft when no one on a 300 metre stretch of King Street is prepared to do as much as stick out a foot to trip up a fast moving thief. Where are the heroes?