Cuts

I've always despised the Abbott government but now I have reason to dislike them even more. Because they have gutted the ABC I will no longer be able to watch Randwick games on the tele. That sucks big hairy dogs balls.



My beloved footy will no doubt be replaced by twenty year old re-runs of Midsomer Murders. In fact it will probably be replaced by the Bolt Report if the Libs get their way.

The most annoying thing is that the little money they save will no doubt be pissed away on something stupid like another tunnel that I have to pay another toll on or a school chaplaincy program to indoctrinate impressionable children who signed up for a secular education or diesel subsidies for Gina's oversized Tonka trucks or paying rich people ludicrous amounts to have babies or tax breaks to help the property bubble keep growing so I can never afford a home.

Fuck you Tony. Fuck you.

Being a sex god

If you want to play out the fantasy of being a sex god there is no better way to go about it than to ride a bike really fast for 200 kilometres. Whoever conceived of the podium celebration really knew what would spur men on to great pursuits. Firstly they have two tall models kiss you (which is unlikely to normally happen when you are a bony borderline dwarf who spends all their time riding up mountains in lycra).



They then give you a big bottle of champagne which quite obviously is symbolic of your penis. This bottle is usually much bigger than a standard bottle (even though your penis is likely to be very small at this point - seven hours on a hard cycling saddle doesn't do much for blood supply to the region)

The whole crowd delights as you wank off your huge champagne bottle, ejaculate and spray streams of bubbly jizz all over them.



Unfortunately some cyclists see too many porn films and think woman really like having jizz on their face. I really don't think they do. I remember having a schoolroom fight in year 2 which ended up with someone flicking clag glue all over my face. It was horrible. No one wants sticky stuff all over their face and in their eyes. I spent ages trying to unglue the eyelashes on my left eye.

  

All in all I think podium celebrations are a wonderful harmless fantasy. Winning cyclists should however be a little more careful about where they aim their pantomime penises.

When music was expensive

Back in 1990 it cost $30 for a CD, which according to the Reserve Bank's inflation calculator is $54 in today's money. That's heaps.

If you were lucky you might get one CD for Christmas and another one your birthday so you had to think pretty hard about which one you wanted. Once you got your CD you would then listen to it about a million times until you knew every word and had pissed off your entire family who would beg for mercy every time you went near the hi-fi system.

Back then owning a CD meant something. It was a source of cool. You could have friends around to listen to a CD. People would give you tapes so you could copy it for them in some primitive form of file sharing.

This system did however get more sophisticated when kids realised they could buy a CD and a bunch of blank tapes from Big W, then dub the album, exchange the CD for another one, dub that, exchange the next CD and continue until the patience of the person at Big W finally wore thin with the whole scam.

Still, the system was far less sophisticated than these days when you can listen to pretty much every song which has ever been created on your phone without buying anything, dubbing anything or writing all the track names on the little tiny card at the back of the tape.

In the 90's kids were united by the tapes they shared. Some cool kid bought a Niggers With Attitude CD and pretty soon we all knew the words to Fuck tha Police. We probably had no idea where Compton was but being a middle class white kid in Epping was pretty much the same as gang banging in LA.

For some reason gangsta rap and hip hop was massive. Most people I knew owned a tape with Cypress Hill's "Hits From the Bong" on it before they even had a hit from a bong. I think it was just because it all seemed tantalisingly naughty and that treasured little black and white sticker on the front of the CD which says "Parental advisory, explicit lyrics".

Dear Target

Dear Target,

A while ago I bought a toilet brush from you. I didn't just go for the super-cheap one. I went for this fancy-pants posh one which was in this tasteful wooden box and cost $35 or something. I thought it must be a huge step up from the very basic old-school dunny brushes, which while effective added little to the aesthetics of that uninviting little crevice beside the toilet bowl.

Soon after purchasing this posh toilet brush I found it didn't really hold up to vigorous scrubbing. The head quickly became wonky and I realised it was actually just loosely screwed on. After more scrubbing the handle became wonky and I realised that too was just loosely screwed on. Pretty soon the whole thing fell apart.

This is just terrible design - it's like making a chopstick from three separate pieces and badly screwing them together. It is just when your chopsticks fall apart and you have to put them back together you are likely to have something nice like sweet and sour pork on them. When your dunny brush falls apart it is likely to be covered in something terrible, like sweet and sour pork which has been through the human digestive system.

I realise I could have brought my posh dunny brush back into your store for a refund but having worked in a similar mega-store I feel great empathy for the people who work in your service department. They should never have to deal with crappy, crap-covered merchandise. I once had an old man return two year old underwear with dodgy elastic and skid marks. It was not pleasant.

I think it sad that many people with the very minor ambition of poshing up their bathroom a bit will be left frustrated, with aesthetically pleasing yet fairly useless dunny brushes. In this age of technological advancement things as simple as a dunny brush should just work.

Dog meat

Sadly very time a fancy race horse breaks a leg, they very quickly get sent off to the knackery to be made into Meaty Bites or Pal. Given these horses can be worth millions of dollars it seems a terrible waste.

The obvious solution is racing prosthetics. After all, it worked for Oscar Prestorious. He was really quick and everyone loved him (until the unfortunate shooting his girlfriend thing). I think people would get behind a blade runner horse.

Do you think racehorses say "break a leg" to each other before they race? That would be some cold shit... I guess they probably wouldn't say that unless they had Mr Ed abilities.

When dumb becomes the norm

Most of the big problems which exist in the world have all come about because doing something dumb became normalised and accepted.

Melbourne Cup is a prime example of dumb becoming the norm. It's the strange carnage which occurs when people who don't normally drink two bottles of champagne on Tuesday are surrounded by a whole lot of other people who are doing this. Alcohol poisoning becomes the norm. Tomorrow you will see an amazing number of finely dressed women with fancy hats and lovely matching handbags... filled with vomit.

Frankly, I have never understood the purpose of trying to catch your chunder in a handbag. You would have to be standing on a pretty damn fancy rug before this becomes a wise option. Most women carry an inordinate number of things in their bag and once all that stuff has swum around in half-digested party pies and Bacardi Breezers it is bound to become a little icky. No one is going to want to put the vomit lipstick on again and I am pretty sure your iPhone warranty doesn't cover submersion in sick.

At the same time as everyone is getting on the piss, they also piss away their money, betting over $800 million on some stupid horses no one actually cares about, so that an annoying little prick like Tom Waterhouse can get even richer and afford yet more teeth whitening. Soon he will open his mouth and lasers will shoot out to burn the eyes of anyone who looks in his direction.

Sadly dumb becomes the norm way too often.

Australia voted in Tony Abbott. Sydneysiders think it is perfectly normal to pay $1 million for a shitty apartment. Xfactor gets good ratings. It is all incredibly dumb and none of it makes sense to me at all. I keep thinking that intelligence and common sense will win out but constantly I am amazed at the power of dumb.