Gorilla in the midst of a pensive moment

A little tribute to the Big Gorilla, for supporting my little program of madness over the years.

If you've ever wanted an answer to the eternal question: Where does a gorilla... ?

Then look no further.

Omar the star box-ar says ‘na’ when asked to get out his ya-yas

I jumped out of bed at 7am to record my thoughts, but unfortunately I don’t have any. As time is of the essence, and in essence I don’t have any time, I cast an eye over Google news to find out the latest atrocities. Thousands die in Iraq, but not one Big Brother housemate…

I like to play ‘find the pun’ when reading news-type stories. Journalists can’t help themselves. The lamer the pun, the better; ones like ‘Whale sanctuary plan harpooned’, and other such brilliance. So what’s on offer today?

Let’s see.

Well first up we have: Standing ovation for our house of worship—the Sydney Opera House declared a world heritage site. Well that’s just piss poor guys…

Aside from pissy puns, I did notice that:

MUSLIM boxer Omar Shaick was yesterday handed a two-year ban for refusing to give a urine sample because his religion prohibits him from exposing his genitals to strangers.

How’s that for a piss-related segue?

I wonder if this riotous religious rule is written Ten Commandment style:

Thou shalt not show thy balls to another. Do not covert thy neighbours nuts.

Yes, I know I don’t know what I’m talking about—let’s just leave it there before someone cracks a fatwa.

It does seem to have the provision ‘to strangers’—could not the testing officer have taken him out for a beer first, shown him a good time…

That’s right, no alcohol…

Anyway, I like my headline better.

Seven degrees of masturbation

I would like to apologise.

Yesterday, I used the phrase ‘back in black’, however, upon reflection I realised that at the time I was dressed nearly entirely in blue.

I wouldn’t want to be caught out saying black was blue now, would I?

It’s seven degrees at the moment—or at least that’s what the little widget on my desktop tells me. Freakin’ cold in anyone’s cliché. Stripped off to jump in the shower this morning and I was shaking like an epileptic leaf in an earthquake. The kind of cold that makes your shoulder blades try to burst out your throat.

This is meant to be a sub-tropical climate!

Records have been broken all over the state (predominately BROS albums, with a few Rick Astley ones for good measure). Sorry, what I mean is that throughout Queensland weather stations have been recording the coldest temperatures on record.

It sure makes it hard to get out of bed in the morning—if it wasn’t for a catastrophic build-up of bladder pressure I probably wouldn’t get out of bed at all.

For those of you from cold climates let me qualify my bitching about the cold: most houses in Queensland—including mine—don’t have heating. It doesn’t usually get cold enough to justify the expense of installation, so when I say it’s seven degrees, it’s seven degrees in the house.

Fucking fridge-like! I had to chase a mammoth out of the bathroom this morning.

Well, I’m off to work now to stare intently at a different computer screen for seven hours.

Everyone's a critic and most people are DJs...

Back in black at the crack of early. The title is taken from a Hold Steady song--don't be accusing me of plagiarism.

Those first two sentences were written without the aid of coffee or my brain.

Anyway, after several weeks of watching this blog cough up blood in the corner, I went out and spent a large amount of money and now we have a wireless network at home. I'm also viewing this through a 20-inch wide-screen and I'm currently not saving to a new 250-gig hard drive. Also, now running Vista with its memory-intensive bells and whistles and paternalistic anti-Luddite technology. It is pretty damn shiny.

What does this mean to you the consumer?

Probably very fucking little--except that if you drop by here weekdays you will find fresh inanity, stupid shit I don't mean, even stupider shit that I might mean, and long run-on comma-separated lists that go far beyond the point of being informative or entertaining, every day.

And it begins once more...