Too classy to eat

Went to a flash restaurant last night. Uber flash. 600-dollar Versace plates, the wine list went well into the 1000s of dollars—as a result I had a beer. Initially, we thought that wine by the glass was quite reasonable, then we realised that what we were looking at was not a price but a page number. We said, no don't worry about entrees, just bring us the mains. They felt sorry for us and brought us some bread (which was fantastic).

Then the beef arrived.

Little medallions of tender goodness—the key word being 'little'. They floated lonely in a sea of white, with only (and I'm not making this up) a lone potato island (which was a slice of potato, not a whole one), two green beans, one bonsai carrot and one vegetable that I believe was called 'celeriac' to balance it aesthetically on its porcelain canvas. The whole thing was ‘drizzled in jus’, which I think makes the chef seem quite lazy—couldn’t he make the effort to try a little harder than ‘drizzle’?

Luckily, I’d filled up on several pints of Stella before.

The daily struggle

It's so cold today, my eyeballs have frozen in their sockets and I have to turn my head to track the cursor across the screen. The sun rose at about 6:30, thought 'fuck it, I can't be bothered providing warmth today' and went back to bed. Half an hour later my alarm poked me in the ear and said, 'get up, it's tomorrow'. I opened my eyes--when they instantly froze--and lurched out of bed. Due to my poorly functioning frozen eyes, I completely missed the saber tooth snow kangaroo that was in the kitchen, and ended up walking straight into it. We battled to the death--well one of us did anyway--and I walked into the bathroom and chipped the ice away from the taps. I was assisted in this by my body's spasmodic shaking--my frozen fingers provided a firm grip on the chisel.

The shower was scalding hot, burning my head, but by the time it reached my feet it had frozen into little blades of ice, which buried themselves in my feet; my feet resembled little blue ice porcupines. I called the left one 'spiky'. I'm still thinking of a name for the right.

With this on my mind, I got dressed in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, because my eyes were frozen, this took quite some time.

And then I wrote this post.

You see, this is just an example of my daily struggle to get ready for work. Shit like this happens all the time. Sometimes the saber tooth snow kangaroo wins and I can't make it to the computer until I have been resurrected.

Attention muppets

Oi, all you motherfuckers out there, I have a community service announcement!

What I'm about to say will be hard for many of you to fathom; however, I assure you, it's all backed up by years of research.

1. Wait for people to exit a lift before you start to walk in. Why is this so fucking difficult? How can you be surprised when the door opens and you walk straight into someone? Has this not happened before? Even fucking goldfish can remember this.
2. Don't walk backwards in crowded places. Fuck! Turn around before starting to move away from the counter with your hot coffee.
3. When walking down the street, walk in a straight fucking line. Don't fucking meander all over the place. Turn your head before suddenly darting (or even darting in a fashion that is not so sudden) right and stopping in front of the mobile phone shop. This is particularly relevant if you are carrying an umbrella.
   
4. Come to the realisation that pressing the button at the pedestrian crossing is going to make fuck all difference to the time it takes the lights to change. Hitting it multiple times will not make it change faster. Also consider the possibility that one of the fifty people already standing there has hit the button before you. Wanker.
5. And to the grotty little cunt on the bus with the long fingernail picking shit out of his ear and flicking it at his girlfriend--don't. The person sitting behind you might snap.
   

If the roos don't get you ...

Man fights off shark with a chisel.

and

Fuck off. Just fuck off.

When good roos go bad

Not so cute and cuddly...

Bus etiquette

I catch the bus to work because I work in a big, shiny building in the city. Driving would take longer and parking would cost $25 bucks a day. I’ve never been a big fan of busses—overseas, I’d always catch taxis—but I’m learning to deal with it. There are some things about busses, however, that make me grind my teeth.

People, generally.

Particularly those motherfuckers that sit in the aisle seat so as to dissuade anyone from sitting next to them. Some of them even put their bags on the seat. Well, fuck you arseholes. Every other seat is taken, some little old lady is trying to keep her feet among the masses (which in this case are not yet teeming), but your bag needs a seat all to itself.

Sorry, did I accidentally elbow you in the head as I walked past? That wouldn’t have happened if you were sitting next to the window. You selfish prick!

How dare you have a different point of view!

Look at the good Christian girls come to Satan's rescue!

Vile

'Stop dwelling crankily on old wounds' was Bishop Anthony Fisher's heartfelt response when asked about Cardinal George Pell's attempt to block the compensation case of a father whose daughters were raped by a Melbourne priest, Kevin O'Donnell, when they were in primary school. One of them has since committed suicide.

A moral authority indeed. Was this God's will?

Pope's minions decend on Sydney

I had this great idea for a photoshop ... But when I went searching for a suitable picture to start with, someone else had already done it. (Image below borrowed from Facing America.)

Social spanner #1

Here's a trick guaranteed to fuck with someone's head.

Step 1: Wait for a person to say something--anything at all. (I caught the bus this morning, would you like some tea?)

Step 2: Chuckle (or snicker--your choice) and say 'that sounds like a euphemism for something ...'

Step 3: Wait for their puzzled expression and for them to say 'what?'

Step 4: Chuckle again and say 'think about it ...'

Step 5: Walk away.

Put the disc to death

Many moons ago, a Chinese friend was giving myself and a friend a lift to a party in his Honda Prelude. It had a 'fully sick' sound system, and my Chinese friend--inevitably--had shocking taste in music. We were just heading down the road and had stopped at the lights outside our local pub while Andy fiddled with his CD player. He found the track he was after and cranked it up. It's raining men started belting out.

'Andy!' I screamed at him over the deafening bass. 'Turn this shit off! Change tracks--for God's sake, do something!'

'What?' he asked and turned the music down two decibels. Now it was only at 128dB.

People I knew were starting to look out the windows of the bar. I slunk down in my seat.

'Andy, dude--change tracks!' said Jim from the front.

'Andy, are you listening to the fucking lyrics?' I said.

He sat there for a minute, then a look of comprehension washed across his face like the shadow of a cloud rushing over a mountain.

'Oh, shit. Shit, man! Shit!'

The lights changed and he peeled off--in front of a car he should have given way to--the music came to an abrupt halt and the CD went flying out the window, glinting rainbows in the sun before it bounced once, twice, then mercifully a benevolent semi-trailer ground it into tiny bits of plastic gayness.

Set some time aside ...

Just a couple of quick things before I rush off:

(Warning: this song may continue to loop in your head long after it's finished)



And check out the best Flash game I've ever seen. This is so addictive, I recommend not clicking the link if you have other things you should be doing...

Alternatively, do it anyway.

Have you ever ... #1

... Come home from work positively relishing the chance to sit down and relax, poison of choice in a bottle ready to go, decided that it was far too much effort to use your hands to take off your shoes, and decided that a far better option is to use one foot to remove the shoe from the other foot.

You've done this before and there were casualties, but this time you're confident that everything will work out alright...

Bang! Crash! fuck!

Everything comes falling apart when on your first attempt your foot slips and you slam your left foot into your right shin. The shining blue light between your eyes momentarily disables the part of your brain that controls balance, and you fling your bottle of booze at a wall as you lunge for something to prevent you falling.

The angular desk-type object you grab at leaps aside and laughs at you. You sit in a mangled heap on the floor, vowing to never again attempt taking off your shoes without the assistance of a trained professional.

Am not

Somebody told me I was 'contrary' the other day.

'No, I'm not!' I said.

In other news:

It's not big and it's not clever, but I just have to say on behalf of Australians everywhere:

That's not a crop; this is a crop!

Pure madness ...

Reality TV is a disease

Gosh, this is pretty tasteless; even for unreality TV.

Australians were particularly vulnerable ...

'Australians are generally gullible targets,' he said. '(The scammers) do very well out of us.'

No, we're not!

Yes, you are.

Oh, yeah. You're right ...

x=y

I've noticed a distinct correlation between how cold it is in the morning and how pissed off I feel when I wake up.

Fuck, I'm pissed off today.

Brrrrrrr ...

Beaver on a plate

Oh, my God! Mark's been eating beaver! There's photos and everything.

Burger bullshit

I bought a burger from Hungry Jacks--it's Australian for Burger King--the other day. They gave me a little scratchie card for a chance to win a 'whopper grand final week'.

The major prize was valued at(up to)$31,387.60(depending upon the departure point).

Alright, I thought and went to scratch the silver shit off. Then I noticed you had to SMS the 'code' to enter the draw--55 cents a message. Whatever happened to the instant 'scratch and win'?

It's a load of bullshit--the marketing team must have been ecstatic. A prize that pays for itself.

Bastards.

I didn't enter the draw--just out of spite. I'm sure I would have won ...