Intercranial ranting

I caught a light sneeze (thanks Tori) and got a pay rise, which is good. I actually had a sick day the other day—you know the kind where you are paid to not go to work? Phenomenal; I can't quite get my head around it.

Speaking of heads—internal dialogue; does anyone else get overwhelmed by this? I walk around the city and there is a constant stream of intercranial ranting:

Stop eating that pie you fat cunt! Nice haircut you emo pansy. Oh, for fuck's sake, don't just stop and talk in the middle of the footpath—move off to the side you tourist bastards. I wonder how long he takes to apply his make-up in the morning. Fuck, I hate Courtney Love. Oh, look, that chick is hot! Shit, so's she! Fuck off, I don't want your flyer—that's why my hands are in my pockets. No, buddy! Don't fucking try and proselytise at me, motherfucker. Don't these people have jobs? How the fuck does that kid afford a new Mercedes? Lucky, rich, daddy's little ... Oh, come on people, it's just a little red light—you can see there's nothing coming. Wow, that skirt must be drafty.

And, I never realised when I was a cigarette smoker, how much people hate you. If I am anything to go by, people hate cigarette smokers a lot. (That’s a funny statement—I’m not sure it’s possible to hate something a little …)

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!

Newsflash: Facebook, Myspace—actually a complete fucking waste of time

Facebook to be full by 2009—what happens when there is no-one left to sign up?

It dies, and I for one will cheer.

No more inboxes full of emails like:

Obscure vaguely recollected acquaintance from the distant past has added you to their friend list.

No more BACN (God, I hate that term. What does it stand for anyway? Boring Arse Crap Network?) from bored people with nothing better to do, assuming you’re just as bored as them.

Blah has sent you an e-drink. To receive your e-drink, simply fill out this three-page form. And now this one. Finally, are you interested in any of our other useless time-wasting non-existent products?

Note: if you send me a drink, it better be a real one. Pictures of beer just piss me off.

Like this one.

Grrrr!

And another thing, for what nefarious purpose is Facebook building up its huge intelligence network?

How do you know this person?

Fuck off! I’m not telling you—none of your fucking business Facebook!

And then the other person gives the game away: Err…we went to school together…

Shudddup man! Damn, don’t tell them that! Sheeeeet, that’s The Man, and now The Man knows. Farrk, why did you go and do that for?

I know how I know you; you know how you know me—what business is it of anyone else?

A list of shit that’s pissing me off… today.

1. Fucking lists—why does every muppet on the ‘net feel anyone gives a shit about their top ten brown foods, how many nipple slips the tabloid media print on a per country basis, or how many words they can think of that end in ‘unt’.
2. Dipshit comments on Youtube from illiterate dipshits—no dude, I don’t believe that you own a Ferrari; you’re far too stupid to have a job.
3. Australian morons—see below.
4. American morons—see below.
   
5. All this heat and no storm. Bring on the thunder and lightning.
6. Vista, did I mention Vista?
7. People that feel all problems can be solved with a bigger hammer.
8. Not having a bigger hammer. (Try and restrain yourselves people...)
9. Telemarketers—a problem that could be solved with a hammer.
10. The evil that is Woolworths and the fact that our fuckwit government doesn't legislate to prevent them monopolising everything, inflating prices to subsidise 'cheap' petrol, and taking over pubs—ripping out live music areas and replacing them with poker machine dens where poor desperate cunts lose everything they have.
    

iPhucked-up

What the fuck is all this hype about the iPhone?

It’s a fucking phone people. A phone.

It does shit that almost any other modern phone will do. My phone plays MP3s, accesses the net, records video etc. I could go out and buy a 32 gig miniSD card if I wanted to outstrip Apple’s 8 gig…

Really, what the fuck?

I hear Apple have already sold half a million of the little iPhucks to half a million iPhuckwits. Lifestyle wankers unite.

This is just another thing I’ll never understand…

Like those fucking lunatics that camp overnight on the street outside the iWank shop to be the first person on their block to be ripped off.

But then why should I be surprised? People are fucking morons—some watch Big Brother, some dress up as Darth-fucking-Vader AND camp out on the street all night for a movie preview, some keep sending money to Nigerian scam artists AFTER the federal police have contacted them and informed them that they are involved in a scam.

Some people spend hours of their time writing shit for a blog that nobody reads.

Really, what chance does the human race have? We’re fucked; it’s been nice knowing you.

Declaration of war against the Word paper clip

If that bloody paper clip muppet thing in Word pops up one more time, I’m gonna fucking have ‘im!

Hovering over your work like an obsequious waiter hungry for a tip.

I warn you paper clip boy: what comes next won’t be pleasant!

I’m going to chuck you in a pit of molten metal. If it fucks up a terminator, imagine what it will do to you.

I’m going to straighten you out and use you to scrape dogshit from the sole of my shoe.

I’m going to beat you flat with a hammer and use you as a Christmas decoration.

I’m going to bend you into a fishhook and drag you behind a boat on a cold winter’s day.

I’m going to use you as a staple to hold together someone’s bowel after an operation.

I’m going to insert you into a punk’s tongue and watch him lick batteries.

I’m going to affix you to the chain of a urinal.

I’m going to pay people to piss on you 24 hours a day until you rust away.

I’m going to melt you down and use you as a filling in the mouth of someone suffering from terminal halitosis.

I’m going to tie you to a bit of string and drag you behind my car as a means of discharging static electricity.

I’m going to use you as a pin to affix a rare South American butterfly to a board.

I’m going to have customs find the butterfly and order its immediate immolation.

Thou shalt not worship false Idols!!!

American Idol has a lot to answer for. In true commercial arse-sucking style it has spawned copycat shows in a myriad of countries--well at least Australia, and if my cynical belief in the sheer 'vaccuosity' of humanity in general pans out, there will soon be one in every country on Earth.

Algerian Idol anyone?

What about Chad Idol?

Columbian Idol? The show where the judges shovel cocaine up their snort holes before announcing, 'Eeetzz crrap!'

Cuban Idol? 'You don't like my song? Well say hello to my leetle friend! (cue sound of manic laughter and machine gun fire ... Oh fuck, I wish ...)

Egyptian Idol? No Bangles songs please.

Djiboutian Idol? Never heard of that one before? Well the capitol of Djibouti is called Djibouti. Shake your bootie In Djibouti.

Haitian Idol? Already resembles Hell--why not go there?

North Korean Idol? And the winner is ... Kim Jong Il! Of course the man is the best at everything--just ask him, he will tell you how things should be done.

Latvian Idol.

Federated-Fucking-States-of-Micronesian Idol...

When will it end?

At last count, it was generally accepted that there are 193 counties in the world. Considering that the top five contestants of an Idol program usually secure record contracts, that's 965 new spurious acts on the market a year.

Sweet Jesus--be afraid, be very afraid.

Those 965 shlop stars releasing a minimum of 10 songs on their debut album brings us up to 9650 songs of which, granted, possibly two don't make you want to insert a chainsaw in your ear to dull the pain.

9648 scheisen hausen (as zee Germans say) songs polluting the already stagnant music market.

Fan-fucking-tastic. I can't wait.