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.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Wollombi
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.
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.
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.
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.
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...
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