Saturday, December 11, 2010

It's just unbelievable

I think the word ‘Unbelievable’ should be banished from the English language.

‘Hey, check out this thingy, it’s unbelievable!’

Monkey colonies living in oxygen pods two miles under sea living off bananas shipped down by black marlin under the promise of monkey on land protection from black marlin predatory deep-sea fisherman.

‘That’s unbelievable!’

No it’s not, it’s the reason I am scared of eating bananas.

Angeles the smaller than fleas that come out in farts to carry away the smell after the smell has lingered for the exact most horrific and/or funny amount of time.

‘That’s unbelievable!’

Um no, it’s the movie script I am trying to sell to Disney.

Girl’s who like sex as much as men

‘That’s unbelievable!’

Um no, well ok, that one is kind of unbelievable.

But wait, check this out, tiny angles that come out of underwater monkey farts that make girls horny, that’s not only believable but something we need to get happening really soon.

Hand me my curry-enriched bananas, I’m onto it fellas.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

What a terrible waste of money

People are always talking about their purchased products and saying things like ‘I paid good money for that’. That is a mistake.

It seems clear that in these troublesome times everyone has become too fearful to spend their evil money.

Next thing you know you have a wallet full horded evil money and with a complete lack of good money left to maintain law and order anarchy breaks out.

Gangs start, they begin to rumble, true story - I once saw an evil five dollar note stab a sixteen year old (which is a wise old man in the bill world) merely for a recently looted bushel of bananas. I mean what’s a five-dollar note even going to do with bananas, everyone knows money mostly eats multigrain bread with sweet-chili flavored cream cheese spread and pinch of unionized salt and/or relationships.

Next thing you know the evil money riots in your wallet get out of hand and the most awful thing imaginable happens. A small yet unnoticeable hole gets cut in the condom you keep in there. Three years later when you finally make sweet love to a girl you don’t find that attractive and/or don’t enjoy her personality but you figure it’s less depressing than throwing out yet another condom because it’s use-by-date is up and that little hole creates a big problem for you.

That’s right the miracle of pregnancy kicks you in the balls like a building wrecking ball dealy, by which I mean a big huge heavy ball of metal right in your testicles, by which I mean not so much the miracle of pregnancy but the biggest nightmare on earth of pregnancy.

So you tell her that you want to take her on a romantic date and when you get to the abortion centre the doctor says ‘sorry, this is an abortion clinic, where we take nightmares and flush them down the toilet so that everything is ok, we don’t accept “evil” money for something so pure and wonderful and in all reality morally wrong but sometimes it’s ok to set aside morals if you both agree never to tell anyone and assume God is busy today, so you can take your fucking evil money and stick it up your ass you scumhole!!!!!’

On your kids fifth birthday you have to tell him that the only reason you can afford such a nice bike for him is because you horded evil money and it saved him from being aborted and that tells him that evil money is why I am alive and starts chasing it forever.

It’s a messed up system people!

So I say spend some of that evil money today, and save some of your good money for a rainy day, just think you may need that one day to buy a twenty a multigrain bread with sweet-chili flavored cream cheese spread and pinch of unionized salt sandwich.

It may save him from stabbing a wise old lady one day. Isn’t that worth it?

Sunday, November 28, 2010

How to make an easy hundred bucks

Some things I realized late last night

I regret eating my own boogers

I also regret naming my dog 'my own boogers'

Because who calls their burgers 'dog' that's usually reserved for hot dogs

Which reminds me there is a hot bitch at my secret society of secreters meeting at midday on Tuesdays

But don't you tell her I said that

She always says it's no secret she kind of likes being called 'hot'

And I'd hate to have her kicked out of our secret society of secreters meetings for people saying stuff that isn't a secret

Because the secret society of secreters doesn't really exist

Well they really do, but I'll let you in on a secret, our newsletter is getting so popular that our printers are getting worried about keeping up with the demand

'Demand' of course being the nickname we have given to Mary the warehouse horse who is very fast

'Horse' of course being her other nickname because of her long history with salt addiction

It's kind of sad actually because most people don't realize that being salt addicted often means you're terrible in chip avoiding contests

Which were of course invented by Steve Evans a man famous for being so addicted to eating boogers he tried to destroy the snack industry by encouraging avoiding snacks with well funded and highly competitive chip avoiding contents

Steve of course being the hot bitches husband

That's why we call her 'hot' because as everyone knows chip production is a really cool job

Guys will say to girls in bars 'I work in chip production' and the girls will all be like 'that's so cool'

So with less chips eaten the world is less cool and therefore more hot because of her

Also she is really sweet which is why we call her a bitch

Its tough at our secret meetings to keep coming up with interesting and hilariously ironic nicknames because everyone is so uninteresting

Except for Steve who eats lots of boogers

Actually that reminds me, Steve bet me a hundred bucks I wouldn't 'eat my own boogers' and that's why I named that burger 'my own boogers'

You owe me a hundred bucks Steve, and I'm going to spend it ALL on chips, you loser

Geeze I'd hate to have THAT guys mind

Monday, November 22, 2010

Who had it worst?

Here is a sketch I wrote a year or two back trying to get a job on Saturday Night Live. I'm starting to think Lorne Michaels is never going to call me, so maybe I'll just post it here :)

GAME SHOW – WHO HAD IT WORST? – Bill/Jason/Kristin/Bobby/Michaela

By David Tieck





Hello and welcome to ‘Who had it worst?’ the game show where we

look at all kinds of suffering and decide who had it worst. I am your

host John Jefferies, now let’s meet our contestants. First up your

returning champs, please welcome back The Widens, Robert and Stephanie



Thanks for having us back


Yep, we are super excited to be back


Have you two been enjoying the boat you won last week?


Sure have




Wonderful, well let’s now meet our challengers, The Grahams,

Simon and Kate.



Now Simon, I understand that you are an accountant?


Yes that’s right, I do tax returns


Well lucky for you this isn’t the who has the worst job show!



And Kate you are a homemaker, that isn’t interesting at all, so ok,

it’s time to get started, ready for who had it worst round one.



Question one, who had it worst, the dodo bird or the Passenger Pigeon?



Both extinct but the Passenger Pigeon was hunted by humans where as the dodos did it to themselves, therefore the dodo will be treated worst in the afterlife, my answer is the dodo!


That is correct! Question two, who had it worst, Clipper fans or

Knicks fans?



Easy one, the clippers have no real fans, so it’s Knicks fans!


That’s correct! Question three, who had it worst, Hitler or Stalin?



Well the full Stalin Mustache is still popular around the world, but the Hitler Mustache has been all but eradicated, so Hitler had it worst!


That is correct!



And that is the end of round one where our defending champions have

leapt into the lead. Time to remind the viewers of the rules! Here on

‘Who had it worst?’ contestants must decide not just who had it worst,

but justify it in a manor which is true yet not the most obvious answer.

Time for round two, the body part round! Question one, who had it worst,

the Octomum’s uterus or Kirstie Alley’s rectum?



The Octomum’s uterus! Had to carry eight babies!


Ohhh, close but that is the most obvious answer I am sorry. Widens?


Kirstie Alley’s rectum. It has had to pass more gross tonnage!


That is correct! The Widens steal the points. Next question, who had it

worst A-rods needle riddled butt cheek, or Barry Bonds steroid induced ballooning head?



Barry Bonds head, because it is exposed where the butt is under the pants!


I am sorry, that is very close but wrong I am sorry


The answer is A-rods butt cheek, because on top of needles it had to

be felt up by Madonna’s veiny wrinkly old hands


You are spot on!


This is ridicules!


And that is the end of round two. Time now for the lightening round,

which is of course all about who had it worst when dealing with nature,

there is no need to buzz in this round, whoever answers quickest gets

the points. Who had it worst someone who dies in a fire or someone

who drowns in a flood?


The fire, because you leave an uglier corpse


Yes! Who had is worst someone caught in a hurricane or someone

caught in a tornado?


Tornado, because you’re more likely to be hit by a cow in a tornado


Yes! Who had it worst, the guy eaten by a bear or the guy eaten by a tiger?


The bear, because if the bear is about to hibernate it may be months

before you are fully digested


That is correct again! Wow, you two are on fire, no pun intended,

clean sweep.


Oh come on



This is madness!


Well that is the end of the lightening round. The Widens are way in front,

but we do have one final round and one more question. Who had it worst,

the horse killed and turned into dog food, or the dog killed and served in

a Korean restaurant?






You can do it Simon!



Um, um


Your answer please?


Ok, it’s the man who thought he ordered the beef but was accidently

served the dog which was cooked while it still had horse meat dog food in its belly


Oh my god, not only is that correct, but you have just pulled a third party,

which means you steal all of your opponent’s points to win the game!




As you know all prizes here on who’s had it worse are come

from property recently seized by police from criminals, and this

weeks prize is $10,000 cash in counterfeit $100 bills recently seized

from the mafia by the NYPD!



Wait, did you say counterfeit dollars?


Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Cash and poo and other good stuff

That's AMAZING! Money, that grimy paper and disease ridden coins that we all scrounge over has an ability to communicate in a way which makes cow excrement develop legs full of enough muscles and bones and the like to WALK!

Let me break that down. Bulls eat grass, hay (and secretly discarded happy days comics which were printed on mass but never sold and are now force fed to bulls) and their four stomachs split those delicious ingredients up into the best nutrients for making beef, leather and bull-sperm (old farmer joke - the baby bull says to the daddy bull 'hey daddy want to run down there and fuck one of those cows?' 'No son, lets walk down there and fuck ALL of those cows') and the left over crap that isn't 'leather worthy' gets dumped out as shit.

Clearly if this left over waste had any brains it would have bribed stomach three to let it at least end up in sausage mince for pizza, but the fact it now ends up as waste is proof of its ignorance and frankly lack of effort while studying during its adolescent years.

So how on earth can this stupid pile of shit form the intelligence needed to use its mind to force its body into literally changing form and growing legs (and I am guessing even FEET - which smell, and that's a big risk to take for something already odor questionable as bullshit!).

By the way 'Odor Questionable' is the new name for my new line of bath salts, the title represents the fact that the bath salts are designed to change a persons odor over the course of the bath and therefore as the product is being used the odor can't be pinpointed down to one specific thing like 'lavender' or 'vanilla blueberry' or 'sweaty glove' therefore meaning it is 'questionable'. I think this honesty in labeling will soon catapult me to the top of the bath salt game!!!! 'LOOK there is David Tieck! He's the Odor Questionable bath salt king!' the girls will scream!

Point is this - the fact that this essentially retarded bullpoo is walking merely because money has been defying its own destiny and has started speaking up tells us something. Money, like the little man, the robots in Terminator and pigeons before it, has become self aware, it now knows it exists.

But it gets worse.

Money has begun to talk!

Wait we already had established that bit.

But it is saying stuff which is influencing shit. Literally shit. And as we all know once you have the shits the next stop is the bathroom business, which leads to toilet paper, which leads to the amazon rain-forest, which is full of weird and creepy animals, which will lead it to flee the forest for more urban areas where HUMANS live and before we know it money will have US!

If this isn't stopped at some point humans will be 'influenced' by money. It will be in our ear making us do stuff for it, like shitty jobs like cleaning toilets, or even shitty jobs like become lawyers and doctors. It will make us carry it around in leather, yes leather wallets and bags (see its not just got the bullshit, but its had some solid chats with bull stomachs two and four!). It will do stuff like trick your poor friend into thinking because he has less of it that you should buy him a beer from time to time but not ever verbalize that making you think sometimes your friend is just being a tightass when actually he just can't afford it - throw him a bone you bastards (NOT a bullbone please!).

Before you know it there will be things called 'girls' who think that somehow just because men like sex more than them we should have to buy them stuff all the time.

But it gets worse. I think if we allow this to keep developing - one day money may even influence, hold your breath - BANKS!!! Those nice fellows who put ATMs everywhere so we can always get cash, and let us have plastic money lending cards in our pockets in case we have poor money management and yet impulsive spending habits!

Also I think money may have a few seductive words to say to government, but I am not worried about that, those guys just want to help the community, they're never going to be as weak and manipulation suspect as bullshit.

Yet no one has bothered to figure out just what money is saying! It's madness!

I suspect it's - 'check out my scar, I got this one falling off a skateboard when I was nine' and from there all ears a pinned in anticipation of what could come next, because no story can start like that and not be AWESOME, so before you know it money has already said 'I'm kind of nice to own and you know buy stuff with' and you haven't even realized you have fallen under its trap.

Well I say we get the scientists working on figuring out just what this money is saying right now! (Also get onto how bullshit is growing them legs, I bet a few amputees would like to know something about that!)

In the meantime I'm going to the shops.

Oh no, oh no - I think they've got MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

Monday, November 15, 2010

Religion explained

It just occurred to me that last night my dream world took me into the heart of the Scientology celebrity center in Los Angeles where I saw John Travolta, Tom Cruise and for some reason Michael Douglas!!! Also everywhere you looked there were pools and hot-tubs and they were all full of topless girls.

Something about this dream made something painfully clear to me - I have a deep fear of one day getting to the bottom of my clean clothes pile and discovering that I have only one clean sock!

Cause then what the hell do you do?

Wear one dirty sock and one clean? Wear two dirty socks? Or wear no socks?

It’s a nightmare of numerous options all bone crunchingly awfully death like where they all suck and will make you look weird and other less than desirable type dealys.

It’s like being told you’re going to be shot, hung or stabbed, but only worse, cause with socks you have to live with your decision!

I really don't know how to handle this, I just hope they're is a solution to this fear in my dreams tonight, or you know, at least more topless girls.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

I guess he broke my heart

I saw a soldier in fatigues in the vegetable section of the supermarket today and looking at him made my mind spontaneously start singing 'You ought to know' by Alanis Morissette.

That's right, I have officially completely gone nuts - I was in the vegetable section!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

I have a huge ass - bad style

You guys probably don’t know this, but in a country different from where you are I am sort of a big deal to people in that country (please decide where you are on your own and then think of somewhere else and imagine this is there).

You see I sing in this band – Poikilothermic, which is the official scientific word for “coldblooded”, and that is really fucking cool which means it’s a really cool band name which means we’re badass, like frogs and many breeds of fish who are also coldblooded badassness and eat bugs, which is super badass kind of meal like our badass band (please note ‘badass’ does not mean our asses are literally bad, they are normal perfectly functional asses with normal horrific functions)(please also note only men’s asses are used exclusively for horrific functions, the female ass is capable of all sorts of non-horrific things, from being photographed, sodomised or even to hold a smiley faced balloon between its cheeks to cheer up the sick kiddies). They call this the “circle of badassness” and it only exists in rare awesomenessous times!

This one time our badass band was doing a badass gig, and I guess we were sucking kind of hard (a term us rock stars use to suggest we are kicking ass because it reminds us of backpacks and their amazing ability to let you carry stuff while keeping your arms free to use vacuums), and this one guy, in some weird place in his mind thought something different I guess, like we weren’t awesome (I assumed he must not have had a vacuum, meaning his floor might have crumbs on it, poor guy), because this biscuit without a plate-face decided to throw a beer glass at me, and it hits me right on the temple, and knocked me out cold, right there on stage!

Yes the stage, that’s the bit raised up a bit meaning being knocked out is highly dangerous. (For the record it hurt, but I was too passed out to cry, yes that’s right I kick rock n roll ass!)

Also, and I don’t remember this bit specifically, because I was passed out, but apparently this cut opened up on my head like the parting of the red sea or something (by something I mean something actually red and opening, not like that lying fucking sea), and it ended up needing twenty stitches, which I am told is a lot (twenty stitches bad, twenty grand good – numbers sure are flip-floppers!), but it also meant there was lots of blood pouring out all over the stage, and with me passed out bleeding like that they decided to cut the power to the PA and all that so people could come and help me. (By people I mean my drummers grandmother, she was a sweet old lady who had gotten us this gig at her nursing home).

So they startle me awake, and now I see the house lights on, with a crowd of frustrated patrons (frustration makes six old couples look like a thousand strong army) looking at me sort of strangely, and I look down at my body and see all the blood, and then I started to cry (you can’t stay passed out and therefore not crying for ever I don’t care how badass you are) I was like really sobbing, cause you know I’m a badass like a frog which is an often wet faced creature, and I think I might have cried for my mommy, which is kind of weird because I don’t really ever remember my mommy being that comforting when I scraped my knee as a young boy, so I don’t know how I thought she could help me while bleeding and crying on stage (but if she was any kind of real mom she’d have prayed every night for my well being, this is rock n roll, a job where you can sing and play guitar and stuff, which are really different skill sets, and there is lots of prejudice about people with difference).

The ultimate fall out from this incident was far more severe than even I could imagine. The following day a memo went around the nursing home telling resident their grandkids weren’t allowed to come visit anymore if they claimed they were in a band. The man is always trying to hold down us rock gods!

If you can imagine it, from here is actually got worse? (Even though it is unbelievable I hope you can imagine it, because otherwise your imagination may be sort of weird, I mean you can imagine a coffee table with a beverage that is not a coffee on it, completely defying the very name of the table, but you can’t imagine things getting worse? That’s weird dude). Because of this one little incident, you know after someone showed camera phone footage of me bleeding and crying on the news, there was this huge fallout, and ultimately it lead to glass actually being banned from all pubs, bars and nursing homes in the country you are imagining this took place! I know!

Now everyone has to drink out of plastic, which has some insulation properties or what not that don’t keep your drink chilled to a preferential temperature for nearly as much time as glass would. That is science working against you! And people wonder why diseases no longer get cured. Science has turned man, can’t you see it? Where is the war on science?

Now in the country you are assuming this happened in we like our beer, and we like our beer icy cold, so people fucking hate this no glass rule. (If you fucking hate something does that mean you’re raping hate? Maybe hate brought it on itself with overly sexual clothes? Hate is such a whore.) And when people find a rule they hate they need someone to blame, and there were two obvious choices in this case. An unknown asshole who threw a beer glass, or a badass singer who fell into a pool of his own blood and burst into pathetic little girl tears, while on a stage wearing no shirt, and leather pants with four pair of socks stuffed into the crotch, all in front of a death metal old school old folks crowd and shown on the news. (Badass = good, asshole = bad = proof bad is better than ass = proof asshole = something good = once again science fucking with you!)

I have no idea why, but for some reason this country decided to blame not the glass thrower, but me the little girl death metal singer who used to go by the stage name “Paradox Daffodil (Monk’s Hood – which is a type of purple buttercup flower) (fireweed – which is a type of primrose flower)”, which at some point I thought was cool but for some reason the “press” called “wordy” (Fuck you press, you’re named after ironing, and that’s a lady chore, you ladies!) (Please note I am not actually sexist but as a badass rock n roller I am forced by law to appear as such from time to time or those pussy ladies will say mean things about me and I’ll cry).

So now every time someone here takes a sip of their beer and thinks “warm already” they follow that up with “I fucking want to kill that pathetic flower cunt” which isn’t a nice thing to think at all!

The other thing is that I really like going to pubs, bars and nursing homes, and I really like cold beer myself, and now I cant go into any place in this land without some prick spotting me and yelling out something like “grow stronger skin you turd”, and I’ll be like – “sorry sir, but the strength of my skin is just not something I have any control over, and besides apart from one unfortunate incident my skin has done a splendid job of holding in my blood, and frankly I think most people have skin with poor defense against flying glass plus a turd is another word for poo and I don’t think I am poo so your whole argument breaks down as soon as logic is added you turd!” But that never seems to be enough for them, and they usually threaten to make me bleed some more if I don’t get out of there soon.

So wait, have you ever realized that in essence your skin is literally just a big body shaped bag filled tight with blood, bones and organs? Imagine that skin bag draped over the back of a couch! Now that makes me think of the skin bag being like an inflatable raft where one little cut and it sinks, thank god for congealing blood, if you ask me (why did you make me imagine that, now I feel quesy, this is all your fault for not being so clearly able to imagine things getting worse earlier, and now I’m quesy, are you happy?)

So anyway I can never go to a pub, bar, nursing home again, thank god my grandparents’ are dead (see what this turd just made me thank GOD for? That’s kind of creepy, cause it was heart disease that killed them, not god, must be concussion making me miss-thank).

Even after this went on for a few months and I decided to ditch the leather pants and start wearing shirts with a nametag people STILL recognized me, it just sucks. The band ditched me too, apparently I didn’t “fit the image they were going for, for a death metal band” so it basically just ruined my life.

But at least I am kind of a big deal, and that’s badass.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


If your friend says you're thick as a block of wood it's an insult

If he says you're as thick as thieves it's a sweet commentary on your friendship.

But if he says you're as thick as the DNA from a teradactyle ball sack then he must have an awesome fossil collection and microscope and yet you've never invited me to come see! Come on guys. I thought we were friends, and after I said we were thick as thieves :( Boo.

This week was Australias big horse race, the Melbourne Cup which is said to 'stop the nation'. I could not be less interested in it, but because I had a five hour wait at a bus stop on my way to hangout in sunny Queensland for a week (I am writing this now as it rains outside so we can't go outside) and the bus stop was next to a pub which sold beer which I like, I ended up watching it anyway. Here are some of the thought I had while the big race was on.

The most fun thing about the Melbourne cup is seeing people all pissed off about losing while I maintain a breakeven guarentee!

Betting on these horses out for a jog is boring, I prefer to bet on the tredmills at the gym, those races are always INSANLY close :)

The optimist in me prefers to remember Jesus recieved a premium crusifixion- top of mountain, front & center, unobstructed views for miles!

The diciples were just premium stalkers, stalkers with benifits, no sex with me but also no sex with ANYONE - Yaaaaayyy

I'm an author, which is a sophisticated term for bookie, why aren't people lining up to donate ME money today?

My efforts to combine blues music with blue movies was going swimingly, until my request 4 a 'trumpet' solo went bad. (they didn't have one)

I bought self raising flour and I'm still waiting. I think I might waterboard it then burn its lazy ass alive in an oven!

I hate pop music, how can anyone listen to that manufactured generic crap? I think, as I joyfully devour my mcdonalds breakfast.

That last one was more of a thought I had while eating breakfast at the airport dealy :)

Hope everyone is having a sunny fun week!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Ruining it for all the ladies

Girls, now I know you all hope to one day be swept off your feet by a knight in shining armor, but haven’t you ever wondered just why these knights were so concerned by buffing up their suits all shiny before heading of to see a bunch of men on a battle field?

Lets look at some facts about Knights:

- They were christened ‘sir’ as in servant to the Queen, which was a band headed by a man with a really cool mustache!

- No one ever says ‘my grand daddy was a Knight’

- They rode ‘stallions’ which are like horses but extra manly and yet have waxed pubes.

- They used ‘phallic’ weapons like swords, jousts and cannons when they could so easily of just used magic.

- They used a silent ‘k’ which rhymes with gay, that while now means ‘lame’ used to refer to happiness and joy and Knights spent most of their time joyfully hanging with other men! (Also: That’s right homosexuals you stole the word gay and we’ve stolen it back, deal with it or we’ll take rainbows back too and make them represent people who are fond of digital watches. Don’t think we haven’t noticed the symbology in the short thick ‘hour’ hand being the most powerful, and the long skinny ‘second’ hand being almost irrelevant, for shame).

- They famously used the battle cry ‘whoever cuts off the most heads today gets blown by me tonight, ooh ahhh’ that some people think may for some reason have referenced oral sex (for the record ‘sucking’ is WAY better than ‘blowing’ in that department). Global warming enthusiasts also use this battle cry as evidence that the world was ‘windier’ in the Middle Ages.

- They were enthusiastic of the punishment of being ‘drawn and quartered’ that referred to being sketched naked and having your ‘penis’ sketched quarter size, which back then was something men didn’t want others to think about them, why? Maybe it would mean less guys would want to see their penises? Proving they did want men to look at their penises.

- The fact they were called ‘Knights’ but mostly fought in the day leaving their ‘torches’ for each other.

That’s right, the evidence is all in girls and it is clear, Knights in Shining armor are clearly trying to overcompensate for some sort of body odor problem. Sorry, fantasy ruined.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

How are your orgasms?

Earlier today I suggested that – The term 'anti-climax' is too harsh - this party is so boring I am now against orgasms!!!! Boo

I would like to now take that back and stand corrected (I feel sorry for people in wheelchairs, if they make a mistake they can never stand corrected, that’s pressure people, to always be right. I couldn’t handle it!)

I actually think it would be great if anti-climaxes actually did inspire people to be anti climax. Think about it, EVERY event would have to be awesome. Cause no one would be willing to risk ruining orgasms.


‘Hey boys, this may be just another league game in this soccer season, but if we don’t go out there and put on one hell of a show for our seven fans we could totally fuck up orgasm, so let’s go out there and play hard!’


‘Hi Mr Cameron, this is the studio calling, we’re going to shelve Avatar, if people find out that you just took the ‘dances with wolves’ script and changed the word ‘Indian’ to ‘weird blue person’ it could totally ruin orgasms’!


‘Honey, I am going to put all my efforts in today, I don’t want this sex to be anti-climatic’

‘That’s ok baby, I am a girl, I don’t actually care about your orgasms, and frankly I prefer to get mine from a rubber machine than from you’

‘Wait, what just happened? Damn you soccer league, your draw last week ruined my wife’s thoughts about orgasms!!!!!!!’


‘On the news tonight the sport of soccer has officially changed their rules to allow brawling after angry men everywhere began blaming draws for their women not caring about their orgasms’


‘No actually honey, it has nothing to do with the soccer, women have always disliked the male orgasm. It’s like if a guy makes a girl cum after two minutes he likes it and feels virile and she gets to enjoy the bodies most pure form of pleasure, but if a guy cums after two minutes he is taught to feel ashamed and unmanly and she makes fun of him to all of her friends’


‘The flight to Singapore today is expected to be smooth sailing and turbulence free, so we’re going to take a little detour past some Cambodian jungles just to see if we can risk crashing near some gorilla militants all hell bent on training their torture mongers, just to make this flight exciting’


‘And yet I’m the one who always wants it, something isn’t right here. Um, um, um – I know lets start having orgies, that way EVERYONE wins HOORAY’

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Give the bullies a break

Seems lots of people are talking about bullying these days and I have to say it - give the bullies a break please.

Think about it, school is the only time these people will have the opportunity to simultaneously be around scores of vastly smarter and better looking people than them AND a small bunch of so far undiagnosed retards and future jail rape 'victims' who haven't yet noticed that ganging up on and picking on kids who have futures makes them a punch line and routinely hated and considered pathetic.

This is but a brief opportunity for these kids - for the rest of their lives they won't have the opportunity to highlight just how inferior they are. In the prison/rehab/poorly-paid-no-skill-required-yet-still-about-to-be-fired-job where they end up their 'peers' aren't around to back up their stupidity because they are stuck doing things like beating up women because it's the only way they can get another human being to be willing to stay in the same room with them.

School ends up being the highlight of their lives. That's right - the period of time where they are displaying behavior so moronic that for the rest of their lives people remember and mock it is the HIGHLIGHT of their lives.

I was going to say 'that's like' now - but there is no possible just like it. These idiots actually celebrate establishing the pattern which ensures they have no future.

So give the bullies a break - they are the worst humans alive and they are only just about to find out. Fucking idiots.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Some people are so lazy

I was in a department store today, Myers, one of Australia's two biggest chains. This is a company so big that they have enough money lying around to pay millions of dollars to an overrated 'supermodel' to be an ambassador or some shit. Yeah right, like anyone would specifically go to one store because they pay money to a model to pretend she shops there sometimes. Next thing you know people will be telling me that there will be companies who routinely pay for pop-up ads on major websites that do NOT automatically get blacklisted by so many consumers that they go bankrupt within a year. Um, banks started doing that and the world's economy was destroyed, I think I know what I am talking about!

Anyway, I was in this store today and they had Christmas decorations up. STILL!!!! It's October, they have had ten months to take that stuff down. Really that stuff should be down by like February right? A month or so from now and some of the really annoying shops will be jumping the gun and ALREADY putting up Christmas decorations for THIS year.

I just don't understand how some businesses even think they'll make money.

Monday, October 11, 2010

How to have all the power in the world!!!

Yesterday I ended up being a little bit political completely unintentionally. Damn those politicians and their sneaky ways to influence us regular folk.

Made me think today, and that's dangerous. Damn those politicians and their sneaky ways of creating danger.

People are always referring to the president of the United States of America as the most powerful man in the world and I can't help but think, um, no he isn't!

The president is a man (or one day a woman) whose every single decision is subject to world wide scrutiny and debate, and is molded by meetings/ following party lines/ honoring promises/ and catering to benefactors who paid for their campaigns, and whose implementation is reliant on being passed in congress and the senate and all those bill dealies! Power my ass.

And speaking of ass, consider this: If the president is anywhere but the White-house and he needs to go poo poo it takes a massive security operation clearing bathrooms and making sure safe passage in and out of perhaps previously unplanned buildings. And the president is a person who is stressed and often eating foreign foods at irregular times and therefore probably has inconsistent and perhaps even sudden strong poo poo needs where time is of the essence and he has to spend that time waiting for meetings between his security team on where and when the best time and place for said bowel movement can be arranged. That's right, the presidents bowel movements require MEETINGS and then when he goes he probably has security right there in the toilet with him just in case someone has snuck in a deadly spider in the hope it would bite him. (by the way, I have always thought dropping spiders on enemies would be WAY more affective than dropping bombs. Plus wouldn't the footage look cool, thousands of little spiders being parachuted onto Iraq?)

If you cannot have a bowel movement without other people having a meeting to discuss when and where you can then you are not powerful!

The president has 330 million bosses, and every single on of them will tell him he's not doing a good job if that's how they feel. Have you ever had a boss tell you that you need to lift your work effort, or that a task you have completed wasn't done satisfactorily? It feels horrible, and the president gets that times 330 MILLION times for EVERY thing he does! That would make you feel bad, and feeling bad isn't powerful.

People who have more power than the president (or any elected official in any democratic country) include:

Paris Hilton
Homeless people
Lab rats
Head Lice
Washing left to dry over a balcony railing
Green balloons
YOU! Every single one of you!

Damn those politicians and their sneaky ways of pretending they have power!

The looming health crises?

Now I don’t usually like to talk about what everyone else is talking about but on this one particular issue so many people have talked so much about it and yet I still don’t think that the people have talked about it in a way in that it should be talked about.

I am sure by now you have seen pundits on CNN and the nightly news talk about the local paper in the small former silver mining town of Sala near Stockholm in western Sweden’s report that the local high school is considering dropping the subject of ‘health education’ or ‘helunda ecoloa’ from their curriculum after the closure of the 2015 school year unless the moderate change in the school budget which is projected to be passed in the next few months doesn’t go through.

Most of the so called ‘big news channels’ claim that this is a sure sign that the health of the entire world is in jeopardy. And while such a horrific rumor to come out of a small town school administration is often a forewarning of a global disaster (it was a small Austrian schools decision to switch lunch from 12pm to 1230pm which was the original catalyst for WWI as I am sure you know) I think in this case the so called experts are wrong (plus who puts ‘expert big news channel guy’ on their business card, isn’t that a little wordy, why not just ‘know-it-all-but-don’t-really-because-I-just-report-what-I-hear-from-other-places-meaning-really-I-just-know-lots-of-people’ surely that’s more practical).

Point is I believe that many of these people who we put so much trust in are not looking at all the facts here. Yes I know newsmen are magical people, a weather man once said it might rain and then it DID – that’s proof that the news people CAN and DO make bold predictions, and weather, also, can have major effects on the world, it once rained when I was on the way to the shop and the heavier traffic meant that I did NOT buy the CD I was planning on buying as planned. And we all know what has happened to the CD market – it’s collapsed! Only years after they lost a sale to me because of the rain. Well delayed sale, I bought it the next day, but still who knows how many other products have seen their market share dwindle to almost irrelevance because of such a delay? We don’t know – you should be on this newsmen, you’re supposed to be experts – yet you don’t know anything about which products would now be king if it didn’t rain that day so I could have made the shop – shame on you. Shame, shame, shame.

Lets look at the facts:

Fact one: In Sweden in the summer the daylight goes for 24 hours and in the winter the moonlight goes on for 24 hours. This means if you wake up after fifteen years in a coma and there is no clock in the room and you look out the window, you will HAVE NO IDEA what time it is! Then some person is bound to say ‘well there probably will be a clock, it is Sweden’ and this poor person, after fifteen years in a coma will be forced to suddenly yell ‘Switzerland is the clock country, NOT Sweden!’ and the strain, and stress of not knowing what time it is AND deal with misplaced cultural stereotypes will almost certainly knock this poor man right back into a coma. Is this the kind of health system WE need to worry about Sala school kids no longer learning about potentially from 2015? Yes we do, because by looking at the bizarre health systems we can learn more about how to deal with unusual events in our own more ‘normal’ hospitals. However things like this are clearly so interesting these school kids are all but guaranteed to look them up and study them in their OWN time, therefore making the school teach them a mute point.

Fact two: Many girls in Sweden are really, really cute. This has no relevance at all to the world’s health, and would I bring this up now if there was a crises coming? Possibly, because I am often distracted by the attractive. Ha ha, that kind of rhymes. Would I bring up that rhyme dealy if there was a world health crisis coming up? Fuck no I wouldn’t, this is serious, and if I am not being serious then you better believe you can trust ME that there isn’t a world heath crises coming.

Fact three: Downhill skiing is both fun and good for your fitness, and there is way less skiing in Sweden than people think, for it is not a mountainous country, and there are way more skiers in Norway to the East, so by definition the Norwegians will be enjoying more of the health benefits and fun times which skiing offers, and very few Norwegians go to school in Sweden. Why? Well would you leave a country that offers all the fun and robustness of skiing? No you wouldn’t. Which is proof that this one schools decision will probably not affect the education of one of their bordering nations.

Fact four: I personally have a really bad diet, and that happened BEFORE this schools announcement, and if I know one things it’s this - very few people stalk me to find out exactly what I eat so they can copy it exactly down the very same quantity of French fries and how many times I dip them in barbeque sauce. Very few people do this, but some do, which means if a health crises is coming shouldn’t I cop some of the blame?

Wait a minute, wait a minute. Now see this is why I don’t like to talk about topical news type stuff, I always end up exposing myself and the cruel way I live my life at the detriment of others. And it doesn’t make me feel good. You suck Swedish school system!!!!

Friday, October 8, 2010

You may not like it but really should probably hear this

If you get your shoe stuck in gum you probably have spectacularly weak calf muscles!

If you head-butt a tyrannosaurus your fear of horns is probably in direct contrast to your time-machine building skills!

If a tyrannosaurus gets its foot in gum someone probably packed really impractically for a time-travelling trip!

If Homer Simpson were here right now he’d probably say ‘d’oh’ because that’s his catchphrase, and therefore statistically speaking the single most likely thing that he would say at any random point of time!

Math is probably awesome, especially statistics!

If you built a spaceship out of knives that were used to stab people you should probably question the security at the police stations murder weapon storage facilities!

If you’re out in public and your outfit is made up entirely of contrasting stripe patterns you should probably have also included some sort of cloth or material!

If to you ‘happiness’ is defined as ‘a million little paper cuts’ then you should probably purchase an alternative dictionary!

If you regularly dance on the graves of rivals you probably have a weird ability to find a danceable beat in graveyard living bird’s songs while simultaneously have a strange pattern of forming rivalries with the terminally ill!

If you feel like it’s been way too long since you’ve had a quiet night in you’re probably not deaf!

Buying a gun is probably not a good way to honor the contributions of the first ever varnish bottle elected to the senate, and frankly you should be spending more time questioning voting patterns than honoring the victors! Hell Yeah you should!

If you drink so much you vomit it’s probably still better than if you vomit so much you decide you may as well get drunk, and yet neither are as alarming as vomiting so much you decide to take up embroidery! I mean how old are you?

Sometimes the truth is tough to take, but someone probably should say it!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Hey mirror, take a good look in the mirror, you asshole

If you ask me mirrors are the most elitist, discriminatory objects in the world. And the worst kind too. Think about it, mirrors spend by far the most time looking at the vain!

What kind of object decides to choose, of all people, vain people to look at? I’ll tell you what kind, assholes. Just the same kind of assholes who work for magazines claiming to empower women while simultaneously filling their pages with models and airbrushed lies! (Little known fact: The chief editor of Cosmopolitan Magazine was a mirror when she was a little girl – and she spent so much time looking at a really fucked-up Vain woman that the little mirror became this evil person! Can you believe how elitist mirrors have to be to not just look at the vain, but eventually take their form!)

Still we should know better. Mirrors have magic powers that we all see and choose to ignore. They have the power to make the non-stereotypically beautiful feel ugly. To make women cover their faces in overly gooped-up make-up that is in no way attractive to men. Of course we all know they are sexist too, spending way more time looking at women than men. Those bastards. Thank-god we don’t have mirrors in the workforce, or in politics or their would be sexism there too! God help us.

Note 1: I too have magic powers, I can look at a vast array of rooftops and know instinctively if I have ever burgled the house they roof, so don’t think for a second that this is an anti-magic blog

Note 2: I have never burgled a house, but please don’t think for one second that this in someway sullies my magic power, on the contrary I think it enhances it, you know cause I am ALWAYS right

Note 3: Sullied is a really fun word to say yet it is almost always used in a negative way ‘Sally sullied her salad by spilling it on a dog’ would be one extremely common sentence that takes advantage of the word sullied and is entirely negative, a dinner is ruined, a poor dog is covered and food, and a poor girls reputation and therefore potentially her entire life is destroyed. I think this is all unfair on the word sullied. I for one am going to use it positively for once

Note 4: Deidre sullied her would be attractors rape attempt by kneeing him in the balls

This is just the beginning. Mirrors have managed to sneakily find a way to push their way into almost every bathroom in the world. Those dirty fucks. Tell us why mirrors? What do you get out of looking at us naked all time, looking at us on the toilet, and looking at us sleeping on the floor covered in our own vomit after way too much drinking, and just making it short of getting to the toilet for a puke?

You just know they are getting together in secret and having conversations like this:

‘Hey Bill, how’s life?’

‘Really fucking good actually, the girl in my bathroom has started to stand-up to wipe, I get to see EVERYTHING’

‘Fantastic, hey get this Bill, you should have seen what this guy did in the bathroom I live in did the other day – he looked at me in Simon so he could take a look at his own asshole’

‘Wow what an awesome guy’.

You see I assume this sort of behavior is approved of in mirror society, or perhaps even loved. Or else why would they so encourage it. If mirrors wanted to spend their time looking at us completely dressed looking at perfectly average moments of human existence they would mostly hang out in hallways, or perhaps where the TV hangs out (an object that doesn’t care who you are, but if it does favors the lonely, and yet gets very little respect). But no, the mirror likes to be in the bathroom, that dirty, dirty little object.

Still it’s the love of the vain that makes me the most annoyed. Consider this – I was in the gym the other day and I was working my ass off, figuratively and literally, while spending time enjoying the visual delights of a beautiful blonde girl in a delightful pink and purple skin tight outfit, while her boyfriend simultaneously kept going up to the mirror and lifting up his shirt to look at his own abs!

That’s right! The mirror had an option to attract a sweaty longhaired scruffy guy, a hot young blond, or a douche-bag who wanted to look at his own abs, and it chose to look at the vain douche!!! Take a long hard look at yourself you vain loving snobby mirror scum! (You too blonde girl).

And now because it just occurred to me that I have written about things in your bathroom twice in a row, I segway to this:

Did you know that if you move every mountain on earth into a mountain of mountains then you probably have awesome mountain moving equipment!

On the other hand if you have a mountain in your bathroom you have big problems, although please don’t consult an interior decorator – some of them recommend MIRRORRSSSSSS!!!!!!!

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Please squeeze my buttocks

After two nights of tiny amounts of sleep I had a lovely sleep last night, and I realized some things as I woke up this afternoon.

I love everything about waking up, except trying to convince my eyes to open, getting out from under warm blankets, and wondering why I slept cuddling a pair of my own underpants.

The phrase ‘too much cheese’ is the same as the Mormon god. While technically it might exist if you go around telling people you believe in it they’ll rightly call you crazy.

A Christmas tree is the same as a kite. Both are perfectly acceptable weapon choices in an ‘I hope I lose’ fight.

Nightmares are the same as broken fingernails, either one will give you an excuse to take the day off murder college. Yet still murder college? Come on guys, why not do something more positive and awesome at school, like a pottery course? Everyone enjoys misshaped mugs more than mug shots. Think about it please.

Women are like donuts. The holes may be the least delicious parts, but I’m still hungry! Mmmm gluttonous sexual innuendo, yummy.

Bricks are the same as spotlights. Throw either at a plane and either airport security has fucked up, or you can FLY!!! That’s so cool.

T-shirts are like babies. If you hang them on wire hangers you risk leaving them misshapen. Still who can be bothered buying nice cribs or wooden hangers when the wire ones are so often abundantly free?

Memories are like disco balls. If you spend hours looking at them from every possible angle there is a good chance you’re alone, drunk and extremely happy.

Regrets are like penises. They’re most fun after you’ve embarrassed yourself in efforts to hide them in warm moist holes.

I meant rabbit holes after a rainstorm!!! Get your minds out of those dirty places people. I mean regrets in vaginas? How would that even work?

And now a message from an older yet still vain tube of toothpaste:

Please, please start squeezing my buttocks, my breasts are sore and hollow while my bum is round and bulging, I don’t want my toothbrush to leave me for another tube.

Damn those fresh young plump untouched virgin toothpaste tubes. Selling their virginity in supermarkets and convenience stores. Full of unsullied white, green and blue striped guts just willing to spill them on any toothbrush who pays them even the slightest bit of attention. ‘In my day single colored guts were considered beautiful ok!’

I hear some of these young tubes will even spill their guts on various toothbrushes in their lives! Sometimes more than one toothbrush even on the same night! Where are the parents?

The damn young and their lack of crusty, gooey build up around their lips, ‘they’re signs of life and gaining wisdom you young whores!’

Sometimes I just wish my ass would be rolled up and destroyed, just so I could experience being top heavy and firm one more time before my time passes on. Is that wrong?

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Sometimes you just can't stay silent forever

Little known fact: If the ‘day’ was a flavor it would be a raspberry sorbet with a vanilla custard topping, although it would be utterly unpalatable due to ‘raspberry’s’ cruel, unreasonable and utterly arrogant use of the silent ‘p’, and frankly it just makes me mad.

Sometimes there is nothing I can do but sit around and think ‘this day would be delicious, if it wasn’t for that bloody p’, and other days I am having an awesome day not even thinking about raspberry and their lies when I will horribly come into contact with someone with a stutter trying to ask me something while being perfectly polite about it but end up saying ‘p-p-p-p-p please….’ And I’ll be like ‘great give the perfectly polite people afflictions like stutters while greedy con-artists get to walk around with the gift of the gab’ and then I’ll be all like ‘gift of the gab, what an ironically poorly crafted use of language we choose to use to suggest someone has been blessed in the ability to use their talking en like with voice en that’ and I’ll be so mad that a few weeks later while I am ranting on and on about the unfairness of it all and find myself repeating the ‘p-p-p-p-p please’ bit I’ll suddenly be like ‘raspberrys you scum, do you know where you’re silent ‘ps’ end up? I hope you die!’

Fear not though. For your days do not have to be affected as mine once were. Hell Yeah I did, I came up with a solution to the tragic situation of having your day ruined.

It’s quite simple really.

Anytime you feel like you are having a day that is being damaged in someway, raspberry related or not, merely abolish one awesome thing from your life and replace it with something even more awesome.

For example – last Thursday I was really pissed off because it turned out that I have to call a coffee table a ‘coffee’ table even if I never use it for resting mugs of coffee on them FORCING me to be prejudice against magazines, beer caps and for some reason as I speak a golf tee. That’s not nice at all. Frankly I could complain a lot about this but lets just say this – if we refuse to say ‘beer cap table’ for fear of insulting coffee what happens when the coffee gets all big-headed and haughty and we need to pull it down a notch and ask for beer caps help. I’ll tell you what happens – they WON’T help. That’s not the kind of world I want to live in.

So I am all pissed off and I remember my own remedy – abolish one awesome thing from my life and replace it with something even more awesome. So I did it.

That’s right, I abolished something awesome from my life – my regular trips to train stations to complain that their roof height policies are viciously prejudice against giants and that perhaps the fact we hardly ever see giants walking down city streets is due to their inability to fit onto the trains robbing us mere ‘normal’ sized humans of wonderful ‘I saw a giant the other day’ anecdotes.

And I replaced this with something even more awesome – re-enacting the nightly news from seventeen days ago for sick kids using only stick figure cartoons and the use of make up free mime, just to let the kids know how much better things have gotten since seventeen days ago. You know, still wars and stuff, but way more stick figure cartoons and make up free mime now. And the kids fucking love it – there all like ‘oh, gee, here comes that stick figure cartoon and mime with no use of make up guy’.

And you better believe it fixed my day right on up. Take that coffee!!!!!

By the way, speaking of prejudice I don’t think we will ever, ever abolish prejudice until we abolish the word ‘abolish’. It just sounds so damn delicious.

‘This chocolate vanilla cream cake comes abolished with a rich creamy caramel sauce’

Mmmm, abolish.

Also speaking of abolishment, you know that A-bomb? That’s the first ever bomb given a grade of ‘A’ before it had ever even been used. And then we wonder why it was such an arrogant asshole (both A words – coincidence yes, which is like an aberration, and the fact ‘aberration’ is an A word is one of the main signs that the dictionary is full of secret information – like ‘paidle’ – what the hell does that mean? Ohhhh conspiracy).

Do you know that before the A-bomb exploded it made Japanese kids give it their lunch money? Arrogant asshole!!!

Still we should have known. We should have predicted. We should have sensed. We should have seen. We should not have made the mistakes we made. We should have guessed from the beginning that bombs would turn out to be bad.

Sure it would have been easy to think that all those explosives, and the huge phallic form that they were built in the image of clearly stated they would only be used for charitable candy like goodness, but the clue that they held a secret was right there wasn’t it?

Bomb – SILENT B.


Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Notes from a guy with sex goals

Hi I'm Warren,

I was twenty-nine when I lost my virginity, which for a bachelor in the 1930s was quite young. The young lady’s name was Angela, and rumour had it she’d already slept with three people, and she was only forty-two! It sure was neat to get the chance to meet such a slut to help me become a man.

Barbra came into my life three years later and we made love after only dating for seven months. I was starting to think I was quite the stud (which back then was a term reserved for horses but I was very large in the nose so I certainly felt I had satisfactorily complimented myself).

After Barbra dumped me for being ‘shit in bed’ (how can one be excrement in bed? that never made sense to me) I found comfort in the arms of Cindy, all 400lbs of them (I only weighed the arms, I couldn’t get the whole body on the scales, and besides I didn’t want to do anything to make her feel uncomfortable about her weight). Keep in mind in those days men seeked curvier women, and when they turned us down the morbidly obese were the 116th next best thing, right between rabbits (hard to catch) and trees (splinters, ouch).

Sadly Cindy died during the act (sadly for her private cheese dealer). And I found myself at the ripe old age of thirty seven (life expectancy was fifty two then, and I never was an optimist) and I was in a speakeasy one night when I optimistically started chatting to a fine beauty named Diedra. She of course laughed in my face then instructed a random man in the vicinity to beat me to near death, which he did with the glee of a school girl, and as I lay in hospital for the next two years (there was not yet a cure for fifty broken bones) I had plenty of time to think and it occurred to me that had sweet Diedra responded positively to my attempts to woo her, my first four ladies I had made love to would have had first names beginning with A, then B, C & D!

It was a mighty fine thought, as I am sure you can imagine (Apologies if you cannot, I understand that not every man has had such success with the ladies as me).

It was such a nice thought in fact that it inspired a pact (Little known fact: all pacts a factual). I pacted that I would sleep with exactly twenty six ladies in my life, I know, a scandalous sum that I am sure no other man would dare dream of, but it seemed fated (pacts are also fated, unless you make a pact to do something like start the day with sit-ups that’s not fated its stupid) and these twenty six women would have names starting with the letters A through Z. It would be my greatest triumph (and only triumph, triumphs were difficult in those days).

That’s how I found myself making love to the beautiful Diana, the one armed quadriplegic nurse who had recently had a bomb land on her in World War II (Although we called it ‘that shooty thing’ at the time) (Oh and for your information the burns only made her more beautiful so shame on you).

We met in the rehabilitation ward of the hospital and when I asked if she would like to make love she replied “I guess, I mean its not like I have any feeling in my body, so I wont feel it” she sure did have a great sense of humour for a war victim.

Ethel came a few months latter when by chance I was visiting my grandmother in the old folks home and Ethel was in there visiting her daughter. After that things got lean for a while, I mean ‘F’ names were hard to come by in those days. Not like today with your fancy Felicitys and the like, in those days people respected their children enough not to give them crazy crap names! (Sorry for my language, but it makes me mad).

But things turned around thirty odd years later. I was drafted into Vietnam and the army refused to believe that I was seventy four and that there had been a clerical error and sent me over where I had the pleasure of fornicating with a prostitute named Fung.

Now you would think making love for the first time in thirty years would make me happy, but it turned out that these ‘prostitutes’ didn’t only exist in Vietnam and were in fact back in America also and I could have worked my way through the remaining letters with a crazy week in Vegas and spent my life seeking normal relationships or even a wife. But you know what? In old age you realize there is no point holding on to regrets, you have bigger things to worry about, such as your impending death.

Sex goals sure are great.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

An easy way to a super fun evening

I walked out into the street and looked up at the sky. It was not quite a full moon, but it would be within the next couple of nights, and I couldn’t wait. I mean waiting would be pretty stupid; it was going happen whether I stood and waited regardless, so what kind of moron would wait. I honestly think if you COULD wait I’d question your sanity. That should be like the first test they ask someone in therapy:

‘Looking forward to anything?’

‘Yes my nana is getting out of the hospital soon’

‘Can you wait?’

Answer one

‘No I can’t wait’


‘That is perfectly normal

Answer two

‘Yes, I plan on waiting right outside her door’


‘It’s your nana, not your wife, you’re really creeping me out man’

The moon was big that day. I have never quite figured out why the moon is different sizes, are we closer to it at some times? And if so why doesn’t the gravitational pull make it so we start floating around, cause that would be cool. We’d be all like floaty and that, and people would be like, whatcha up to, and you’d be all like floating man, and they’d be like me too, it’s really creeping me out man’.

‘Dave?’ I said to myself, to distract myself so I wouldn’t burst into tears from the knowledge that I would never get to float.

‘Yes David’ I replied

‘When you pull your pants down and show your bum to other people, why do they call that mooning them? It doesn’t looking anything fucking like the moon, the moon doesn’t have a big line down the middle for one thing, and if it does have cheeks they aren’t soft, yet firm and remarkably fondleable!’

‘I don’t think fondleable is real word David’

‘Of course it is, anything you can do you are able to able, readable, likeable, murderable, unconstitutionable’

‘Now your clearly just making words up, ‘likeable’, yeah right’

‘You are so unlikeable when you nitpick like this’

‘That’s another thing, what the hell is a nit, and how do you pick it?’

‘A nit is like a useless or minor thought and you pick it when you won’t let it drop you nitwit’

‘Ok, but wit is having a speedy ability to find the humor in something, but to pick is bad, like pick your nose or pick a scab, how can nitwit and nitpicker both be insults!!’

‘Picking isn’t always bad, what about picking up a copy of that new book you wanted, or picking up your friend at the airport, those are perfectly positive examples of positive picking!’

‘So you want me to pick you up at the airport, is that what you are getting at, trying to pick at my soft spot so I end up the bad guy if I don’t’

‘I am ‘you’, you nitwit, how the hell can I pick myself up at the airport’

‘Shut up Dave’

‘No you shut up David’

‘Wait, am I Dave or David, I haven’t been paying close enough attention to the order of our conversation’

‘Actually I don’t know, I haven’t been paying attention either’

‘That’s so typical of you’


‘Not paying attention!’

‘Fuck you, you didn’t pay attention either, you always do that, shit on me for doing something you do too’

‘Why are you always so bloody defensive’

‘Screw you Davey, yeah I said it, Daaaavvveeey’

‘You’re so immature’

‘Oh I’m immature, I’m immature, maybe I’ll pull your pants down and show everyone your penis, how immature would that be’

‘That’s your penis too you know’

‘I know that, actually part of me kind of wants to show everyone my penis, you know, just so people know, remove the mystery and things suddenly become more accessible’

‘You and your weird theories’

‘That’s not a theory. A theory is an untested idea in which the outcome could go in different directions, mine is a minority desire which I may or may not act upon one day’

‘Fuck, fucking off’

Just then a man walked past

‘Are you ok sir’? He asked

‘We’re trying to look at the moon here, you nitwit, go bother someone else’

He walked away looking confused and for some reason said 'you're really creeping me out man', and Davey and I talked on into the night.

It was the best nearly full moon ever.

Dave's Dam Days - this milk kicks ass

Dave has interesting days, this is part of one of them

So check this video out, it has milk AND addiction cure!!!!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Please don't do this to our kids

I was playing a game of pool last night when something amazing happened. I hit the white ball with the end of my beautifully bronze chalk decorated pool cue and it rolled up the table hitting into the red number eleven ball which then started moving, without me touching it directly at all, in a whole different direction from the one the white ball had been moving in, and then this red number eleven ball rolled into the hole in the corner of the table where it fell into a small net! Wow.

I felt the joy John Mainard Billiard, who was the pool boy sleeping with the wife of the guy who invented Snooker, must have felt when he first learned to drive ‘I am no longer stuck only visiting friends within cycling distance, hoorah’ he was heard to gasp at the time.

I was so overwhelmed I felt I needed to pray:

Dear Lord Jesus Christ Son of God and also God, meaning you’re, your own father, that’s weird, kind of like in Terminator when John Conner sent his own father back in time to save his life before he was born.

I feel I need to pray to you today and thank you for your invention of geometry. If not for this wonderful, and yet cruelly un-respected language of mathematics, we would not now be able to enjoy such amazing things as shapes, angles and sinking the red number eleven ball by hitting the white ball into it, but mostly shapes, how awesome are shapes?

Sure in the end, ironically, it was a shape – the cross, that you were nailed too and died bleeding on, and also the source of one of your most mistranslated quotes, I hate to tell you Jesus but

‘Forgive them father, for they know not what they have done’

Has been mistranslated to mean ‘don’t blame my killers, they’re just kind of naive’ when in reality surely you meant ‘don’t blame them for using a cross, it will be centuries before geometrists discover than the triangle is actually a far stronger shape than a cross, and when they do people will all laugh, and be like “ha ha, remember before we nailed people to triangles when we instead nailed people to crosses, man we were dumb back then’”

Also some people believe in you, hear this quote, and still think god might be a woman! Isn’t that weird? That means they think that you may have called your mother ‘father’ and that your ‘mother’ impregnated your other ‘mother’ and that no men were involved at all. Ha ha, like that will ever happen, a child growing up fatherless, next people will be saying it’s possible for a woman to have an orgasm without a skilled male lover on hand, it’s become a strange world since you left Lord Jesus!

Plus, if the triangle is the strongest shape, why do so many women still object to suggestions by their boyfriends and husbands that another woman be brought into bed for a threesome, or ‘triangle-loving’, surely this is merely an attempt to create a strong stable relationship, you should get geomestrists onto that immediately. Also how did you let the Terminator series get so awful, and simultaneously make James Cameron an idea stealing jackass, seems like the inventor of geometry would know better than this.

Oh by the way Jesus, I secretly I call the white ball in pool ‘the white number 49 ball’ I think its cruel all the balls get numbers other than the white one, and it is the ball that is used the most, its just not fair, and I refuse to let unfairness be part of my table based sport experiences. I give Ping-pong balls their numbers based on their individual personalities, not the orange ones though, they are trying to steel the thunder from baby mangos and that’s not nice. I hope you, our unseen master, reward my generosity when I see you up in that heaven dealy we hope you weren’t lying about.

Note: If you were lying about that heaven dealy, shame on you, some people are relying on that!

Note 2: Some people get geometrists and geologists mixed up, that’s funny, one studies awesome shapes, the other looks at dirt and stuff, maybe you should make sure this discrepancy is fixed in that heaven dealy, we’d hate to be confused when we get there.


I was feeling good. Geometry once again had enriched my life, and I had taken time to thank its inventor, I needed one more thing to make this experience perfect, by creating a triangle of awesomeness, so I went to fix myself a drink.

This is when it happened.

Yes, ‘it’!

The ‘thing’ that may be the ‘thing’ which fucks up this whole ‘thing’.

I was putting ice into a glass when for the first time I realized just what was going on in this world. Perhaps the source of all bad stuff, or maybe just some bad stuff, but bad stuff is bad stuff and this was clearly the source of some bad stuff.

Turns out – ice ‘cubes’ are no longer always ‘cubes’.

That’s right, in an attempt to make them easier to extract from the tray, some ice cube trays are now round on the bottom, and seriously a shape which is square on five sides yet round on one side is NOT a fucking cube!

Do you people realize what this means?

Ok, so say you’re a parent right, and it’s a hot summers day, you are now faced with a vicious conundrum.

Give your child a refreshing beverage and risk ruining his chances of making a career in geometry or move to Finland and keep the geometry dream alive? What a heartbreaking choice to have to make for a parent. I mean, my god, how hard is that to decide (sorry Lord Jesus, ‘your name in vain’ rhymes, and you know how us humans are suckers for rhymes!)(Also - Conundrums, con-mans, condominiums, condiments, condoms, all things which can make your life a misery, and all ‘con’ words, coincidence I think not, or else why isn’t coincidence spelled conincidence?’)

Sure some parents will be able to administer the following test:

‘Hey Bobby, what do a call a triangle when one of the corners is at a ninety degree angle?’

‘I don’t know mom’

‘Ok Bobby, your geometry career is already fucked, here have a coke’

But that’s rare, because most kids know that a triangle with a right angle is called an isosceles. Still how much longer will this be true if we keep pretending ice-roundtopsquareishbottoms are still ice-cubes!

Note: I have been a fan of beverages for a long time, so even though clearly my personal geomometrical knowledge remains flawless I can’t guarantee it stay this way forever!

It may be easy to make fun of at this time, but what happens fifty years from now when you find yourself driving on a road when a corner seems slightly too sharp for your nuclear-powered-energy-efficient-hover-cycle and you’ll be all like ‘where was a geometrist to prevent this disaster’ and then you’ll remember the headline from the paper:

Geometrists officially ‘refreshed’ into extinction – awesome hover-bike inventing now the world’s most popular branch of the sciences

But by then it will be too late!!!

Well I say ‘no’! Let’s prevent this while we can. Let’s call so called ‘ice-cubes’ what they really are ice-roundtop um, um, circle bottom, no um triangle? Oh fuck, it’s begun, I can’t remember what the name of that round bottomed cube like shape is called. Hang on one second, I need to make a phone call.

‘Excuse me operator, can you please connect me to a geometrist immediately, it’s an emergency…. What do you mean that there aren’t any geometrists available to talk right now and that also there is no longer such a thing as calling an operator and having them connect you to a call, has the world gone made? Jesus, Jesus, please help us!!!!!’

Ok I am back, and I hate to tell you but my phone call did not go well. I could not get a geometrist on the phone to tell me what that shape actually is called.

Plus I was informed that even though some people with the natural skill set for a lucrative career in the geometrical sciences who get jaded out of the entire field will turn to awesome hover bike inventing, others, sadly, will go in different directions and in fact may instead turn to, gulp, taxman taxidermy. Yes its true, you may one day go to bring a gift to your beloved tax man, a gift to thank him for all his love and generosity, and, gulp, find that he has been stuffed!

It’s a scary thought, but unfortunately it is now inevitable, and all we can do is try and delay this horror for as long as we can.

So I say this to you right now – are you drinking a beverage right this moment? If so what shape is your ice? If it’s a lying ‘cube’ then shame on you. If it’s like a whiskey on the rocks, then god-bless you, rock shaped ice is cool, because those geologists need a break from their dirt filled shitty lives.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Don’t dump your trash here

To be honest I’m jealous of trash.

I know some people are like ‘don’t make me jealous of the trash’, there are signs up around town like ‘don’t feed the trash’ and current affair shows do exposes on how some trash is actually undercover fabric salesmen doing their ‘research’ as they call it – call it what it is fabric salesmen, you lying trash, it’s being a busy body! And I have had a busy body in my bed once and I was all like ‘stay still’ and she was like ‘I prefer to get busy’ and I was all ‘that isn’t going to contribute to a fully relaxing sleeping environment’ and then she got all mad and left and went home! That’s right, ‘busy bodies’ mean ‘belligerent bodies’!

But I don’t agree with those folk, because trash has the fucking life. Yes it’s true. Its life’s work is complete! It was designed to hold something before a human used it and that has now happened!!!!!

Wow, it’s like history right in front of us. You can walk past and be all like ‘hey Billy, see that candy bar wrapper, that once had candy in it!!!’ And Billy can be like ‘Hey dad, this strange man is offering me candy’!

That’s the genius of trash.

But that’s not why I am jealous of it. No, it’s the fact that with it’s life’s work now complete it has nothing at all left to do but lay out in the sun, day after day, soaking up the rays, watching the world go by, and letting drunk teenagers urinate on it, it’s all the joy of old age without any of the lack of joy of old age! Wow, that’s awesomely paradoxical.

Oh, trash

Oh, trash

That’s the life for me

Living life with glee

That is not yet the theme song of trash, but if they ever develop the ability to sing it damn well should be. You know, assuming it turns out they speak with Shakespearean like eloquence, and become all snotty so they decide to talk about themselves as like a product rather than in the first person. I mean humans don’t sing ‘oh, human, oh, human’ so get off your ‘pretentious dragon’ trash.

Wait, um, I mean I’m jealous of trash. Trash by definition is in retirement, and sometime mere days after it was given birth to, and in sometimes it’s made of substances guaranteeing that it will live for thousands of years! Can you imagine, knowing you’ll live for thousands of years and still getting to retire three days after birth? No you can’t, because you ain’t trash. Jealous? I am! But you shouldn’t be. Why?

I’ll tell you why!

Because there are these sadistic bastards who call themselves things like ‘cleaners’, ‘trash pickeruperers’ and ‘seriously guys, I don’t mean to whine but some people and their trash is so gross, I guess I’ll just pick it up because I am better than themerers’ who go around town, picking up these pieces of trash, while it is innocently chilling out in the sun enjoying its hard earned post career relaxing years, and these people throw the these poor pieces of trash in plastic bags before suffocating them to death!

Wow, can you even contemplate what it must be like to suddenly be chucked in a plastic bag and cut off from air? It would be terrible. But even worse trash has no arms or legs to fight off its attackers, or try to break free of the plastic, it just has to lie there, feel the oxygen disappear, and then wait for the pain to get so overwhelming it passes out right before death (trash also often shit’s its pants as it dies from suffocating, although it prefers that this doesn’t get out to the greater public).

What kind of a world do we live in when this sort of brutal behavior goes not merely unpunished, but sometimes even celebrated? Sometimes people have ‘murder trash parties’ (or as they call them ‘can someone stay after the party and help clean up the trash’) sometimes criminals as part of jail work release programs are forced into trash murdering! I am sorry, but committing a heinous act does not make up for a life of crime, not in my ‘oh, human, oh life, oh existence!’

Sure from time to time some more kind hearted evil trash murderer will at least have the decency to spike the piece of trash to death with a nail on a stick to save it being suffocated, yet still often those nails are rusty, and most people don’t know this, but tetanus is amazingly swift forming in trash, and often as painful as suffocating to death.

And anyway, their bodies are still intrashmanly crushed together in huge compactors often alongside other corpses of trash that are not just not family, but sometimes even whole different species! You crush a human body, a dog body, and an old rug together in a compactor together and there is an outcry (let we not forget the great human/dog/rug tragedy of 1913, or ‘huogug’ as it was called by the tabloids at the time, ha ha, tabloids are so adorable) yet crush a soda can, a shoe box, and a discarded pair of broken leansed sunglasses together and no one even raises an eyebrow (please note: Some people are not capable of raising just one eyebrow, but if they could most would still not raise one about this monstrosity!)

I know; it’s disgusting!

Then to compound the calamity they are then buried, often naked, in mass unmarked graves, which are then turned into parks where children are encouraged to play on their graves!!!!!!

Seriously ‘!!!!!’ I know it’s excessive exclamation pointing, but kids playing on mass unmarked graves, well honestly ‘!!!!!!!’

I know you’ll get some ‘realists’ who claim that retired containers, and even things like receipts from products long since consumed are ‘no longer contributing to society’. Well first off I have to say – maybe YOU’RE not contributing to society! (You probably are, I mean you’re saying stuff out loud that’s contributing something, but I just wanted you to know how it felt to be accused of perhaps not contributing to society – it’s soft isn’t it? Which is surprising at first because most people don’t know that ‘society’ uses softener) but that doesn’t change the UNDENIABLE fact that trash serves a VALUABLE purpose in society!

Don’t believe me? Well cop this truth. Say you’re walking through a neighborhood, rather like the one where I am staying right now, and you see all sorts of discarded condom wrappers and heroin needles, you get to know off the bat that the kids around here are both scared of STDs and equally fearless of STDs, a contrast which screams ‘these kids play by there own rules’. This kind of information is priceless when a street football game breaks out and you’re asked to play because you don’t have to say ‘hey kids, what rules do you play by’ you know, they play by their own rules. That saves you the entire length of time that this exchange would have taken, and time is invaluable, especially if you’re prone to daydreaming about how to ban all electric drills from kindergartens. Yep:

Trash: 1

Realists: 0

Hell yeah.

Oh by the way, if you do get involved in this game of football and one of the kids bleeds, you also know not to taste the blood for signs of a bizarre chocolate flavor, because heroin boys? Really? Heroin boys? Awwww, I hate to feel this way, but I’m disappointed in you. And I am afraid I have to punish you, I know I am sorry, but heroin boys? Really? I am sorry, I can’t give you dessert after dinner tonight, and tonight is chocolate cheesecake night. No, no, no, you MADE me do that, I don’t feel one little tiny bit good about it, but heroin boys? Really? Boo.

Oh, check this out – go to a neighborhood full of fast food wrapper trash and you can reliably conclude that this is a fat neighborhood, which means a slow neighborhood, and therefore a muggers paradise! That’s VALUABLE information for muggers.

Note: Sometimes something valuable to individuals is damaging to society as a whole.

Note 2: Don’t you dare blame trash for that – it doesn’t CHOOSE where it is dumped, it merely offers you the precious ability to read a neighborhood for what it is, so don’t go ‘we don’t want muggers coming here’ instead be all like ‘thanks trash for letting us know the TRUTH about what’s going on in the streets, unlike those street glorifying hip-hop singers’

Note 3: Remember when ‘hip-hop’ used to be called ‘rap’? Did they change the name to try and make us forget that one time those rappers did that thing? Cause I for one will NEVER forget!

Note 4: Do something nice for the world, collect a bunch of fast food wrappers and dump them in a neighborhood full of fit people, the muggers will never know what hit them, and really don’t you owe this to trash?

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Finally more is known about the cause of evil

If you ask me just because you are afraid of windowsills does NOT guarantee you are evil at all.

I know, once again I am stirring up controversy, and trust me I don’t want to upset anyone. That is unless you are one of those people who are scared of windowsills and you ARE evil.

In which case I probably still wont upset you because of my theory. I mean if adopted by medical researches currently studying evil and how to extract it from the body without the removal of the pancreas, because as we all know the pancreas is vital to living a life full of daydreams about olive oil, and no one wants to give those up, and why bother being evil free if that means you are also pancreas free and therefore olive oil dream free? The answer is it’s not worth it, ever! So if these medical professionals do adopt my theory, and they may, I mean evil studying medical researchers are the MOST prone of all medical professionals to willy-nilly theory adopting. Many in the medical research fields feel it holds them back from dominating the inter-medical field indoor soccer league. That’s when you know you have a problem. So if they do adopt this theory also, and then write a ground breaking report detailing how being afraid of windowsills does not guarantee you’re evil, and then if anyone who matters takes note of this report, which frankly is unlikely, especially seeing as time and time again these gullible evil studying scientists have adopted theories and written reports on them. What I am saying is if you ARE scared of windowsills and you ARE evil, and people who matter pay attention, then I know that you will probably, rather than get upset, merely use this report as evidence to get you off in court. So DON’T get UPSET WITH ME, I’m helping you evil bastards.

(Wow, sometimes you just have to sit back and take a rest after a paragraph so lacking in confusion and merely congratulate yourself. Well done Dave).

What I am getting at is this – if you get upset about my theory and you’re evil, I don’t care, I only care whether or not I upset NOT-evil people! That’s just the kind of guy I am.

By the way if a man pulls up beside you in white car that clearly has windowsills and he randomly offers you a “ride” somewhere feel free to go with him; I’m not here to make decisions for you, yet as surprising as it may sound, plenty of people who are not afraid of windowsills still are evil! And you should always do your best to stay up to date with risk factors such as this.

Ok, so lets look at the facts:

Fact One: Windowsills are usually located in the vicinity of glass - which is made from sand! Tiny yellow granules that get turned into clear see-through panels? That’s magical! And magic is evil. So being scared of windowsills shows a clear fear of evil and as we all know it is impossible to fear something you ARE yourself!

Note: unless you’re a spider, in which case of course you are scared of other spiders, they are little and bitey

Note 2: Also if you’re a bus pass, because as we all know if a bus pass touches another bus pass both automatically turn into spiders, so yes that is another example of the exception that proves the rule that it is impossible to fear something that you are yourself. Evil for example.

Fact Two: Windowsills collect dust and dust is largely made up skin fragments – eeww! And evil people get sad when reunited with long lost and long forgotten skin fragments.

Fact Three: You never see spiders on windowsills anymore because most spiders are scared to run into other spiders there which scares them because spiders fear spiders because spiders are scary. And evil people are scared of things being scared of running into similar things at places; so evil people stay the hell away.

Fact Four: Windowsills are rarely made of denim. Why not? I don’t know, manufacturers of windowsills have never satisfactorily explained this, and this says loud and clear – they have something to hide. I don’t know what it could be, but you better believe I FEAR it! And evil people don’t wear denim; it makes them itch.

These Four facts prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is perfectly logical to be evil and be scared of windowsills, and therefore the fact that you are scared of windowsills is not the cause of your evil, but rather a symptom.

Note: Doubt NEVER has a shadow. It’s a feeling, not an object, and feelings don’t have shadows.

Note 2: Unless what you are feeling is a spider on you in which case – RUN!!!!!!!

Stay tuned – next week I will somehow attempt to prove that you can NOT own a wallet yet still BE ADDICTED to sniffing strangers perfume.

Clue: If you’re stricken with adult onset diabetes that has bizarrely caused acute juvenile amnesia why would you buy a wallet, you should be worrying about getting medical a examination!

Monday, August 23, 2010

Please don't hit her

In Australia there is a man known to most as ‘moonface’ due to his big moon like face who has been a fixture on TV since I think like the year it was invented. He’s kind of like our Regis, and he is a much-loved icon.

(Oh damn, pictures aren't copy and pasting here - boo. I do recommend looking up pictures of the girls mentioned below)

Because of this his son got the easy ride into fame and fortune because for some reason I have never figured out if your parents are famous you no longer have to qualify with talent to be put on TV.

He rode the wave with joy jumping head first into stardom where he met this girl, Brooke Satchwell, who at the time was a multi-award winning huge TV star in Australia who also has huge boobs. I’m not usually a big boob guy, but I would like to meet hers, and her too actually.

Things were going great for our hero, he was the son of the famous guy and therefore he is famous, things were going so good in fact that he decided to start beating up Brooke. Ahhh, young love.

Brooke was strong, and had him charged with assault where he was convicted in a court of law of doing one of the scummiest things any human could ever even imagine doing.

As I am sure you can all understand from here his career skyrocketed. I mean he was the guy everyone was already talking about so in a world brimming with talented people who no one is willing to take a chance on why on earth would you hire one of these kids when you already have a known undeserving sadistic bastard ready to go, assuming at the moment he is either not in rehab or in a drug fueled rampage which will put him there soon which could interrupt filming and ruin the whole show/film. I mean this is show business and when a great business opportunity comes up to cast a known scum bag everyone should hate and may well fuck up the entire production comes up you simply have to grab the chance while its there.

Obviously I am being sarcastic, but the truth is this guy really did beat up his girlfriend, numerous times, he admitted it, was convicted of it, and only missed jail because I guess the judge also liked to give his missus a good thumping from time to time and didn’t want to set a precedent for jail time for this kind of evil? Or something like that. But his career really did take off from here, he went from a bit part player to a leading man in big TV shows and movies, and as of last week was in the Ryan Seacrest role as host of Australia’s new x-factor.

It’s lunacy.

That’s why he was able to woo this girl

Her name is Rachael Taylor, and she is herself on the cusp of being a major movie star. And also very hot, and has the little boobs I usually like and I would also like to meet her boobs, and her. You know, just for fun and that.

Thing were once again going great for our hero, so this week he beat Rachael up a bunch of times and everyone is outraged and shocked.

In his defense he then did what guy so manly that he often beats up young girls would do and manned up, and offered to let the cops beat the living shit out of him before dumping his sadistic ass in jail for a long, long time, woops I mean checked back into rehab, so he could pretend that he isn’t bad its just the naughty medicine talking.

This is truly one piece of shit of a human. I have no idea how he managed to repair his career after he first did this, and not just repair it but have it blossom considerably. It is totally unforgivable, and I really, really hope when he gets out of rehab this time Australia makes him a truly despised man. I suspect we'll do the opposite and give him a starring role on a show within weeks. I mean he was the new host of the x-factor, he has already filmed all of the audition shows, so they can't edit him out, and this is a show mostly targeted towards teenage girls!!!! Who on earth made that hiring decision, and how have they not been fired by now?

I do feel very sorry for Rachael, but still, given the well known facts a girl, who is literally one of the most beautiful girls alive and who was a star in a movie, which although being utter crap, did gross something like a billion dollars (Transformers), and not that these two factors should ensure you’re lucky in love, but it does mean you have choices of a considerable number of would be suitors, so the fact that she chose to date a guy with a known history of violence against his love interests I can only assume a conversation like this took place at some point.

‘Hi Mum’

‘Hi Honey’

‘Guess what, I have news!’

‘What is it luv?’

‘I met a boy’

‘You did? Congratulations! What’s he like?’

‘Oh he is wonderful, he is a famous actor who isn’t very talented but his dad is really famous so he gets to leap into the industry in front of more deserving people, plus get this, he has a history of substance abuse problems AND he used to beat up his ex-girlfriend’

‘Oh honey, I am so happy for you, finally you found a good one, in this world where almost all men would think it nothing short of despicable to physically attack their loved ones it can be hard finding one willing’

‘I know, finally a boy willing to love me with is kisses and his closed fist pummeling my face’

‘Plus baby, and I don’t want to jinx it, but a black eye will really compliment a white wedding dress!!!!!’

‘I know, I can picture it now, my beautiful day, with a split lip a black eye, and a cracked rib making it hard to breathe, so romantic’

‘Has he hit you yet’?

‘Not yet, but I can tell he wants to. Do you think I should provoke him by starting some silly fight over something ludicrous like the toilet seat, or is that being too manipulative’

‘Ha ha, you’re still learning aren’t you, of course it’s ok to be a little manipulative, when it comes to the important things like when a boy first says he loves you, or buys you flowers for no particular reason, or punches a couple of teeth out of your mouth sometimes they just need a little push’

‘Thanks mum, maybe I’ll purposely leave the microwave door open tonight, he hates that, oh my god, I’m so excited, I am finally going to know what it feels like to have someone who claims he loves me punch me in the face!!!! Yay’

‘Just make sure you tell me all about it when it happens, some of us are just going to live vicariously through you, were not all that lucky’

‘Oh mum, I hope you find a nice woman basher too one day’

‘Thanks honey. Oh one other thing, when he hits you try not to let the media find out, I know this may be hard to believe but some people think men beating up women is “wrong”’

‘No they don’t, they couldn’t’

‘I’m telling you luv, it’s true. Some people think boyfriends should give you cuddles, not broken bones, and its worse, some people will even think you were “silly” to even go out with a guy like this’

‘I don’t believe it’

‘Well try to honey, cause if it gets out he might have to “pretend” to be sorry and go back to rehab because all his other stints in rehab so clearly “cured” him of his girlfriend bashing ways, and he can’t hit you when he is in rehab can he?’

‘No, I don’t think I could handle that’

‘Well I don’t want to bring you down from your joy, have a great night baby doll, I hope you taste your own blood from your bleeding tongue tonight!’

‘Thanks mum, you’re the best mummy ever!’

Ahh, the world :(

Other weird things I have seen this week include

- A guy in a pizza restaurant in Los Angeles point down at his pizza and without a hint of irony or sarcasm said 'They would never serve pizza like this in America'

- A woman in a Carls Jnr burger joint sitting with her food in front of her yet still wearing one of those anti-pollution/bird-flu masks

- A guy at McDonald's who upon ascending to the front of the line was still talking on the phone and who did NOT put it down as he ordered and yet DID still get served and did NOT get stabbed in the face for being such a rude asshole (I know this one isn't that unusual - but it sure as hell should be)

- A 33 year old Australian literally eating McDonalds within ten minutes of eating Carls Jnr (I know this guy personally too, and he is getting a little pudgy again for some reason, I don't have the heart to tell him)

- A man precociously slicking back his underarm hair all sexy like in hope of earning free leave it to beaver memorabilia (this one was me too, but seriously that beav has some expensive shit these days).