Fa La La La La La La La La

Ah Christmas time. The silly season. The time to get jolly and load up on copious amounts of alcohol, various selections of meats, use nonsensical words such as 'tis and ho and sing such racially and politically inappropriate lyrics like "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas" and "Don we now our gay apparel."

I've always been fascinated by the image of Santa Claus. He's one of those mythical people that everyone celebrates for a short period of time, but quickly forgets for the rest of the year, such as Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the winner of Big Brother. Much debate exists on his origin, with many people even attributing the modern day image of Santa to a series of Coca Cola advertisements. Regardless, whoever came up with him is a marketing genius. A bearded fat bloke who wears fur, carries a sack, hangs around with midgets and encourages children to sit on his lap. If he wasn't such an iconic figure you'd mistake him for a homeless pedophile.

It's such a wonderful time for children, especially Christmas eve with the anticipation of presents, the wanting to stay awake long enough to catch him visiting. I remember fondly as we left out cookies and milk for Santa so he could have a break from his reindeer driving. Sometimes we left out beer, I assume a lot of other people did the same. No wonder he's fat. This year though, I'm only going to leave out light beer... the booze buses are in full force at the moment, and I wouldn't want Santa to have to deliver all those presents catching public transport, especially at night. Actually I might just leave him a bottle of Viagra.. since he only comes once a year. Hmm. If I don't get any presents now for that terrible joke, I thoroughly deserve it.

I was one of those kids that worked out early on that Santa wasn't real. When I look back now it's pretty obvious. His thankyou notes were always in my parent's handwriting, we didn't even have a chimney for him to climb down, and it's hard to imagine Australia Post delivering a letter to the North Pole for 55c, especially with the cost of fuel these days.

I mean if you think about it, there’s really 3 stages of Santa that people go through in their life. 1. You believe in Santa. 2. You don’t believe in Santa. 3. You are Santa. 

I must confess to my lack of display of christmas affection. I don't put up a tree, I don't dress up the house with fluro lights like it's an obnoxious dwelling that has discovered rave music, and the closest I get to gift wrapping is to sing about presents to the tune of Ice Ice Baby. Yes I'm fully aware that the previous Viagra joke now looks good in comparison, however this is the "Bad Pun Collective" and I'll make as many as I damn well like.

I do enjoy giving presents though, much more than receiving. I'm one of those annoying people that says "don't know" when asked what they want, which I think is better anyway. I'd rather drop hints for weeks and be genuinely surprised at the result, rather than just spurt out a wishlist like it's a business transaction. Although this method doesn't really work when the guy at KFC is waiting to take your order.

To all out there in cyberland, I wish you all a safe and merry Christmas. It's a great time to pig out, hide from embarrassing drunk relations, and dress up your pets in red hats just because.

How to shop like a man.

Let's start this off with my favourite (bad) shopping joke :

What's the difference between a shopping bag and Michael Jackson?
One's white, plastic and dangerous to children. The other holds groceries.


I am hopeless at grocery shopping. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's because I'm a man. Maybe it's because I'm single. Maybe it's because I've lived at home for too long. Or maybe it's because subconsciously I've become so dysfunctionally dependant on technology that I figure if you can't buy it on eBay then maybe I don't actually need tomato sauce to be able to function.

Whatever the reason, I suck at it. I think part of it stems from my childhood...I could never understand why Mum would buy things like party pies just for regular day to day consumption. I always wanted to know when the party was. And shopping with Dad was equally as confusing. I've always had a diverse palate, so I'd constantly be asking for ingredients for things like Sushi, which Dad would quickly shut down, citing such logical reasons like "No we're not getting that puncey shit." That would be normally fair enough , except for the fact that 5 minutes later there he is in the personal hygeine section smelling the body washes for the fragrance he liked best. Apparently "fruity apricot moisturising wash" is so much more masculine that buying sushi rice and nori sheets.


I guess most of the problem lies in the fact that I'm disorganised in planning things in general. I like to wing things, and going to Coles is no exception. In typical man fashion when I go shopping it's usually for a specific reason, like I'm cooking something, so I just stroll in and start grabbing stuff. I also tend to underestimate the amount of storage I need. It's usually after about 10mins and I've got bags of potatoes and onions under each arm, canned tomatoes in each hand and a whole chicken grasped tightly between my chin and neck that I realise maybe I should have grabbed a basket or trolley to being with.
Plus I have trolley issues stemming from one time when it swallowed my dollar coin. It seems all of them these days need a coin in to hire one. I don't get that, I mean if I was planning on stealing a trolley (and let's face it, it is the coolest form of transport around), I reckon a dollar would be a bargain. Except of course if it was one of those semi retarded trolleys with one broken wheel that leans to the right, then maybe I'd regret losing that dollar.

What accounts for the majority of my time in supermarkets though, is actually choosing what I want. I'm the type of person that would go out without hesitation and blow $200 in a night out on alcohol, cabs, and paying a busker to sing "Sweet Child of Mine" in a reggae style, but will also spend 10 minutes comparing sizes and amounts and gram to dollar ratios to save 2c on generic brand coconut milk. I also have no idea how supermarkets are organised. So instead of being methodical, I just end up going down every aisle like a misguided tourist with a non English map. We don't have a pet anymore, but I still go down the pet food aisle! I'm one of those annoying people you see standing in front of one item for about 5 mins. I pick up one brand, read the label, put it back, and do the same to another. Then I look around and compare to other stuff, and basically get in the way of all the people who are wheeling down trolleys grabbing stuff like they are in a time trial.
I do however, unlike my father, get embarrassed if I linger too long in a section that's a bit unmanly. If I need shampoo for instance, I'll get in there, grab it, and get out, just like I'm in training for the bomb squad. I don't want people standing there assuming I'm looking at hair dye, fake tan, or tampons that are nearby (just like I assume about other people standing in front of there.) I'm extreme in this fear of looking girly. In fact, I now refuse to buy "chickpeas" and just buy regular "peas" instead.

The last source of discomfort at the supermarket seems to be the checkout. There is always that insincere "how are you today?" which you are expected just to grunt accordingly. Any effort to actually describe your day will just mean you are considered a pest. And when they are passing you the bags, it's just so awkward! If you let them just put the bag down, then you look like you are ungrateful. But attempting to grab it off them is a huge risk of one of those awkward moments when your fingers linger with theirs. I never know if it's intentional or not, but let's just say, I think there is a big difference in "do you have fly buys?" vs "do you have fly buys? "

Maybe I should just use Colesonline.

Underneath the gaydar

Well, before I get into today's issue at hand, I must preface this blog entry with the fact that I am a completely straight red blooded male who loves women and beer. Well not exactly red blooded, I could be a bit anemic.
Medical issues aside though, and ignoring the fact that I own a Ricky Martin T-shirt, I'm into chicks. In fact I say the word "chicks" a lot. That should alone be proof of my heterosexuality...seriously, try to imagine a camp guy lisping the word "chicks". It doesn't work does it?


So, why am I being defensive about my sexuality? Well, the other night was a first for me...I went to a gay bar. Now before you start jumping to conclusions, there is a valid explanation, and it doesn't involve me wearing any sort of arse-less pants or satin mini skirts. I was meeting a girl there, who had gone with some friends from work, who happened to be male ballerinas (surprise surprise).

I thought I'd be more weirded out than I was. If you think about it, I paid ten bucks to get in, the place was packed with guys, and the few girls there were ordinary looking, man hating and unfriendly. Not really any different to a normal night out in Melbourne really.

Another eye opener for the uninitiated and naive is that you shouldn't expect them all to look like Zac Efron or the blonde dude from N Sync. Fags come in all shapes and sizes. Short, tall, asian, non-asian, topless, moustached.. the only recurring theme is that they all like male anatomy, and probably roller blading.

I was scared to go to the toilet, because I didn't know what sort of stuff would be going down, pun intended. So I got in and out as quickly as possible, and tried not to touch anything on the way. Read into that statement what you will.

There was one major complaint I had though. Actually I was quite offended. None of the gays hit on me! Not that I wanted them too, but WHY NOT!? What's wrong with me?
Why couldn't I be treated like Paris Hilton in the middle of a construction site? (Or my mate Mario at house parties.. but that's an in joke for another time.)
C'mon, I was the tallest bloke there, I've got a bit of sexual ambiguity going on, at least buy me a (potentially drug spiked) drink or something!
I stood around for a few minutes waiting alone at one stage, and nothing! The occasional lingering touch while they brushed past, but otherwise nothing! I even jokingly "presented" at one stage by leaning over the cigarette machine with my friend. Nothing! No ass grope or anything.
The only random bloke that spoke to me was this goofy looking guy who was standing next to us outside, and made conversation how he was excited to watch a straight guy and straight girl "play mind games" with eachother before they "get it on".
What!? I'm offended! Why did he assume we were straight? I could have been an outrageous queen with my hot lesbian friend, both out looking for weird group sex or something. You could have at least tried something on instead of just assuming we were straight! All I wanted was an offer. Anything. Maybe even a "hi there" with a wink, just to know I'm wanted. Obviously I wouldn't be taking up said offers, but I wanted to know how it felt to be on the giving end of a man rejection. I was going to say I wanted to see how it felt to reject someone that could possibly also beat me up... but most of the women I turn down also fall into that category.

So it's a bit depressing to know that if my brain was wired differently, and instead of craving beautiful girls I wanted the anal pleasure of a shirtless Asian named Grantley, I'd be a failure.

Honestly, it's ridiculous. I'm at my physical peak. I should be classed as prime tender young meat for predatory fags.
I'm right to be upset, yes?

10 second quiz

Normally when you do these long quizzes you're supposed to make the excuse "I never do these.. but I'm bored!", or else people will think you're strange and have too much free time on your hands.
Well, I won't make excuses... I'm just strange, but I'm sure you all knew that.






Here we go :











In retrospect, do you wish you had studied harder or had more fun?
Studied harder sounds like spending time in the library on viagra, so I'll go with the more fun option. Although, that kind of sounds like fun anyway!

I like to put mayo on...
nnaise

How many days past expiration are you willing to drink milk?
It has an expiration date?

I wish my parents had named me...
a cool soap star type name! Eg. Harold.

What's your occupation?
I work in a small drilling company. (For those who don't know me, yes I'm a dentist. I'm sorry in advance.)

What colour are your eyes?
Blue. Sometimes patients tell me I have nice eyes.. at least I know they aren't looking up my nose.

Do you sleep with a stuffed toy?
For your information his name is Bingo, and we prefer the term "making love"

The last time I actually cooked something, I made...
up for a lack of coconut milk by simple adding coconut to milk. Who knew that wouldn't work?!? That should be another warning on the carton.. next to the "OPEN OTHER SIDE" warning.

Paper, plastic, or re-usable?
I sincerely hope we aint talking about condoms

Quick! Make up a sport! (example: Awesomeball)
Gerbil tossing. PS. Awesomeball sounds like the lamest game ever. Besides, it's what I call my right testicle.

I'd be totally screwed without...
nails. Get it. I'd use screws instead of nails. Yeah. That's a good one isn't it. I should write for Rove.

In a zombie attack, will you hide, fight back, or just blend in?
I'll blend in. I've seen the Thriller video clip many times. We'll be dancing in robotic harmony in no time.

My comfort food is...
rosemary flavoured pillows. They aren't that tasty, but they're pretty comfy.

When was the last time you gave your parents a call?
Does shouting "MUM DID YOU BUY ME ANY UNDIES AT THE STORE TODAY?" count?

Voldemort or Sauron?
No, the doctor cleared me of all STDs!

When do you normally go to bed?
First thing in the morning

I'm down with...
down's syndrome.

People think that I'm...
a bullfighter. It's probably the red cape and Spanish accent.

What picture do you use as your desktop background?
A photo of my desktop. Sometimes I forget how it looks behind the computer.

Ah! To be young and...
not know any better. Really, the day I found out Dame Edna was really a man shattered my whole world.

What makes you homesick?
The last time I had seafood curry at some makeshift Thai restaurant in Smith st I had to cancel work and stay home with the runs for a week.

My backpack/purse/wallet contains the following surprising things:
A piano. Well, actually I just made that up. It's more of an electric keyboard. I really wanted a keytar but noone was selling one on ebay.

I like to put ketchup on...
my wrist and run around screaming that I had an accident with the broom. Never fails, even though logically it makes no sense.

Quick! What's a creative way to recycle an empty toilet paper tube?
Beginner Didgeridoo, makeshift telescope, wrist band for really skinny emos.

Jessica Alba or Jessica Simpson?
Alba. It's easier to spell.

The moon landing was...
a straight to video 80s college movie about a road trip, starring a young Burt Reynolds and lots of bare bottoms.

Everything is negotiable in a relationship, except...
the $180 per hour fee. I learned the hard way.

My parents would kill me if I came home with...
a terminal illness

For my first wish, I wish...
for endless wishes.

When did "10 seconds" become "2 hours"?
When my microwave broke.

I want my last meal to be...
as spicy and flatulance inducing as possible. If I'm going to die I may as well leave a legacy.

What flavor Jello are you?
Anchovy

David Bowie, David Hasselhoff, or David Spade?
David Duchovney.

Who would play you in a movie version of your life?
Leisure Suit Larry

Late at night, I like to eat...
the 2 week old cheese that sits at the back of the fridge. It's my secret shame.

Pop Culture is...
A saliva sample taken from Granddad?

Stop! In the name of...
7

If you were coated in jelly, what flavor would you prefer?
Orange. Because then I'd look all tanned and shit.

Quick! Make up a first name:
Savage

Salty or sweet?
Salty. I'm sweet enough thanks. (Yeah it's cheesy, but it always gets a smile from the old bag at Starbucks)

Nothing beats...
an egg like a whisk. Although forks are just as good. Actually my mum's electric beater does ok too.

The answer to the ultimate question is...
Definitely maybe!

What's your magic word?
Cashews

Why does paper beat rock?
Because with paper you can write inspiring words, whereas "rock" these days includes Shannel Noll and Stephanie McIntosh. Yes, I'm deep.

When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
An adult. I failed.

I read 'Playboy' for the...
cryptic crosswords

What would you do for a new car?
Buy a raffle ticket from Bunnings. And a sausage.. them's good value pieces of meat.

What's your favorite kids' cereal?
I'm not sure... the Hey Dad website doesn't mention what the little fat kid (my favourite kid) eats for brekkie!

I wish I could change my...
underwear without feeling the urge to gyrate like an exotic dancer.

Bananas in pajamas are...
a metaphor for something dirty. All kids shows are. For instance : "Open wide, Cum inside".. seriously Playschool should be investigated.

What was your worst fashion mistake?
I used to own a white shiny satin shirt with a big collar. I know, I know, what was I thinking? White is so boring.

I'm looking forward to...
yesterday.

I collect...
collectors. All I need is a guy who collects toenails and someone who collects vintage photos of dancing turtles, and I'll have the whole set.

What's your favorite type of cuisine?
Lean

If I lived in the year 1800, my profession would be...
Court Jester. Or town bike. Literally. I'd be like the first ever taxi driver.

I like my women how I like my...
...cocktails. Cheap, wet and full of alcohol.

My name should be listed in the Wikipedia entry for...
"Give me the Wiki". A phrase coined by Dan to mean "summarise for me". In Japanese it translates to something dirty.

What's your favorite 80's band?
I only have about 79 favourites, so I don't think I can answer this.

How many times is it acceptable to wear a pair of pants before washing them?
Until people stop believing that the wine stains are actually part of the designer pattern.

I always mispronounce...
my name.

If I had a time machine, I'd...
Sell it on ebay. I bet some kook would buy it.

What's your favorite type of cheese?
I love all cheese equally. And not in the gross "special cuddles" way you're thinking. This makes me wonder though, when you take a photo of cheese, what do you make it say? "Smile!" ?

What was the best advice you ever received?
Don't listen to advice. I'm not sure whether I should have taken that advice or not. I'm confused now. Mummy!

What are the odds that this interview never ends and is just a psych experiment?
You mean like that time I was kidnapped by Aliens (not the outerspace kind... the illegal mexican kind), and forced to answer questions about morse code and the composition of cottage cheese? Doubt it. Those mexicans were smarter than anyone on my email list.

My first word was probably...
Word. Even as a tiny feller I was both urbanly cool like a ghetto playa, and blatantly obvious.

What's your favorite brand?
I'm against cruelty to cows with heated metal prods! Except for the purpose of steak sandwiches.

What will JT bring back next now that sexy is officially back?
Unsexy. It's all about cycles.

What color underwear are you currently wearing?
Pervert. The 22 hour a day upskirt cam I kindly provide should be enough. Give me 2 hours of privacy, that's all I ask!

If you were famous, what would you be famous for?
Australian champion at pronouncing the word onomatopoeia. I'd be world champion if it weren't for that bastard from Germany. Damn you Klaus. Bam Biff Boom!

What would your superhero name be?
Fartboy

Love is great, but I'd also marry for...
a Whopper burger combo. Or just regular onion rings. I'm easy.

What will your wedding band be made out of?
2 guitarists, a drummer, and a bass player who sings and plays the triangle.a xylophonist and a dude on one of those percussive fish things that you scrape.

If you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?
I'd get a tattoo on my inner thigh, of my inner thigh. That way I could be all badass and tattooed, and still look clean cut and business like in my speedos.

Who the f&%k is Josephine!?

I have a problem with my mobile phone. It's nothing to do with my bill, or the embarrassing obsession with using it to check my email and sometimes facebook while I'm out - it has to do with my address book.
As with most other things in my life it's really disorganised. I have nicknames instead of names, I have names with more than one number so I don't know which is the new one, I have multiple names that I can't differentiate, and most of all, I have a bunch of names I don't even know.
My problem is that I'm a fairly social drunk, and a fairly trashy drunk to boot. I collect and hoarde numbers like they are valuable clippings of Tom Selleck's chest hair (which is currently fetching around $102 per clump on ebay). I've recently started doing a couple of things to try and alleviate the problem. I'm saving a brief description of the person after their name, so therefore "Emma from pub" and "Amanda stuck in floor" (don't ask), I can recall easily. I'm also doing a really nerdy thing where I add them on facebook via my mobile. This means I not only have contact with them, but also a photo I can look at later to jog my memory, and a full name if I ever want to steal their identity for fraud. Smart thinking hey!
But before I had this technology or antisocial internerd streak, I of course ended up with numbers, mainly of girls, that I can't remember. I think it's time I let go, but I always worry about if they call me down the track, out of the blue, and then I won't know who it is!
What if it's that hottie I pashed at Heat nightclub circa 2003, that never returned my text because she's with Optus, and only just got it now? What if it's that funny girl from the backpacker bar that I forgot to call? What if that guy "Steve matress guy" that promised me cheap matresses from his cousin's factory has finally got my order?
It's all too hard, but I think it's time to cull. So I'm going through my phone today, and thinking long and hard about each number I don't recall. I've actually got a pretty good memory, which is surprising considering my years of heavy drinking and watching bad reality TV, so after a while, I can usually work out who it is, and where I met them, even if a bit vaguely.
But there's one number I can't work out. One which I'm tempted to call just to satisfy my curiousity. One number that could belong to a supermodel, or a pushy drag queen with an endless supply of rohypnol. It's going to drive me crazy, at least for the next minute it takes for me to post this.

WHO THE FUCK IS JOSEPHINE!?!?

Transport really is a sport

So I just got my licence back recently after not driving for 6 months. Yes I was naughty, but contrary to popular belief I didn't lose it for driving along singing Bon Jovi too loudly in a residential area. That though, is one of the things I look forward to doing again.. being able to sing along to songs, pick my nose when I want, and possibly travel with very little clothing on..without the strange looks from other commuters. Which, as it turns out, all carry a $285 on the spot fine from Metlink. Oops.

Anyway the demerit points accumulated from way too many fixed speed cameras booking me at insignificant speeds like 103km/hour. So much wasted money in fines, at one stage even 3 times in the one week. I had so many speeding tickets on my desk that I creatively arranged them on a canvas, in the hope that it would earn me a "fine arts" degree. (For those keeping count, that my friend is a really "bad pun".)

Now I'm back driving and it's the little things that are annoying me. Having to fill up petrol, having to contend with traffic, and especially roadwork! Seriously, they are widening all these lanes on the route I take to work... why the hell didn't they get it right the first time when they built it!
Although just quietly, I secretly want to be one of those guys who holds the "Slow" and "Stop" sign. I wonder if it requires intensive training.

But don't get me wrong, driving is much nicer than the train. And the BO is usually a lot better in my car, depending on what I've been doing.
I never know where to look on the train. I usually find I end up with a stare buddy...someone you keep catching looking at you, and vice versa. Normally I kind of just stare out the window, or stare at my own feet. But you are aware this person is staring at you. Occasionally you'll look up and catch them. You're mesmorised by them. You both turn away, but instantly you want to look again to see if they are staring still. It gets interesting when you go through a tunnel, because you can look at the reflection in the window and stare at them. Until they catch you, then you panic and look back at your feet. Then look up again to see if they are still looking. Just like the city loop, it's an endless circle.

Die Hard 5 : Weekend in Ikea

In the Die Hard series, Bruce Willis's character utters the catchphrase "Yippee Kai-ay motherfucker". I'm pretty sure that this was the result of big corporate censorship, as most likely the original was "Bloody Ikea Motherfucker!"

So I headed down to Ikea today. Mum wanted to come, which meant Dad wanted to come, which meant I had a long day ahead of me.
The car trips are always fun when it's the both of them. A slight bump in the road sends one of them screaming "Oooh" like they are in physical pain. It's pretty much the most stressful environment ever, it's like performing complex brain surgery on the prime minister. They've both got different opinions on how to drive and which way to take, which of course differ to mine. So there is yelling to and fro from them, and in the meantime I'm trying hard not to smash into pedestrians or people on bikes (except those fuckers that ride two deep... they can go flying).
So anyway, we get there and I've forgotten what it's like, and why you should never go on the weekend. I think they should sell a survival kit before you enter.. complete with water for dehydration, a compass for when you get lost, and a knife for slashing the tyres of prams that bump into the back of your heels.
After hours of wandering I had chosen what I wanted, and was now faced with the mass of cardboard boxes from which I had to pick. Except my item wasn't there, I had to "order" it from the kitchen department, who would give me a slip which I would take to the cashier, then go to the collection bay! So it was back to the start, then to the end again, then a lazy 30min wait while some bozo at the back picks up one measly box from the back that I could have collected myself!
I honestly think we could lower the crime rate significantly if instead of judges handing out prison sentences, they handed out Ikea sentences instead.
"Mr Smith, for the crime of first degree murder with malicious intent, the court finds you guilty as charged, and sentences you to 7 yrs in Ikea."

Love is in the air... do doo do do doo do..

So, there's a special day coming up that probably a lot of couples are looking forward to...maybe the girls moreso than the guys. Just in case you were being perverted and automatically assumed it's the release date of the new "Pulsator 2000 clit stimulator".. guess again you sicko. It's Valentine's day!
Yes, very soon love will be in the air... which will be a welcome relief, because since everyone stopped smoking in clubs all I seem to smell is farts and BO!

It's one of the few days a year that people in relationships get to rub it in on their lowly single friends. I guess it counteracts the huge amounts of "suck shit married guy" they cop the rest of the year.

So you might be wondering if I have a Valentine this year... well the answer is no. Now you may find this hard to believe with my charismatic charm (I can swear in about 5 languages), movie star good looks (I often get told I look like a caveman), and obvious high intelligence (I learned today that people from Albania don't actually have white skin and pink eyes!!)...but it's true. I just seem to always be in flings, rather than relationships. Oh, and if you're reading this under the impression that you're my valentine this year, then either disregard this, or stop stalking me.

I really do love being single. I can go out whenever I want, watch whatever I want on telly, fart loudly without having to blame it on a dog. Obviously there are times when you do feel like maybe it would be nice to have someone around, to squeeze those impossible to reach zits on your back, but mostly being single is good. Around this time of year though, it does feel sometimes like the world is rubbing it in, especially when you see all the stuff in the shopping centres, like the lovey dovey vommit inducing stock standard flowers and choccies etc..
Even at work we have this lady that comes by and drops off books for the staff to look at and purchase, the other day one of them was the appropriately titled cookbook "Just for one", with the equally patronising back cover blurb "Spending the night alone doesn't mean settling for cheese on toast." Seriously, is that what people think of us who aren't in relationships, that we are too incompetent to even cook anything other than frozen dinners, 2 minute noodles and cheese on toast!? I guess that's why Kraft called their sliced cheese "Singles". Seriously, just because I don't have a girlfriend doesn't mean I'm a povo uni student!


Now I'm not anti V day or relationships. I'm just not normally into big corny open displays of affection (unless you count drunken disco pashing). Normally I'm pretty lazy and relaxed when it comes to girls, but when I find someone who has the trifecta (looks, brains and humour) or quadrella (looks, brains, humour and a buy one get one free voucher at the bottle shop) I go weak at the knees like an arthritic man in a nursing home, who has just been shot in the legs and has to be carried around in a wheelchair... ok you get the point. But what I'm saying is I'm not afraid to take a chance and show my feelings if it's necessary. Although since the "indecent exposure" charge last year I now realise that "show myself feeling" is an entirely different thing.

Now, you're probably asking yourself why am I giving this in depth insight into my psyche?
Well it's simple.
I figure if I lay on this soft and sympathetic crap it gives all the chicks out there who read this time to go and buy me something nice. Like an old Michael Bolton t-shirt with authentic old lady lipstick marks on it. Now get to it girls, so I can rub it in to my other single mates.

Here's my card for you in return.



Hmmm.. maybe there's a reason I haven't got a date.

I'll just wait for the movie

I don't read much. In fact when I think about it, I'm probably technically illiterate. I think it probably stems from my subconscious outrage of murder mystery "whodunnit" books... What uneducated bogan even invented that phrase?...for f*$k's sake...it's "Who DID it!"
*note to self... start a facebook group*

Now I'm not pretending to be smarter than everyone or anything like that ,but by default I will automatically assume I'm smarter than you, if only for the reason that I wouldn't waste my time reading meaningless dribble like this.
Honestly though, I think that society is seriously dumbing down... and I'm amazed constantly by people who read novels, but don't pick up on the proper way to spell or write grammatically correct sentences. This can only mean one thing... editors aren't needed anymore. What's the point of correcting spelling mistakes and stuff if the only people reading the books are people that don't appreciate it anyway!?

So for my next million dollar idea, I'm going to run with it, and I'll write my own novel to appeal to those people who aren't as anal about English as I am. The working title is "I brought a new car yesterday. I hope your going to love it to... its over their, next too the other car's. Lets go run a muck, maybe place a bet. I hope we dont loose!"


In all honesty, I think I'm just too lazy to read. Yes I'm that unfit that moving my eyes left and right that many times in a minute gets me out of breath.

We are the Juddy Blues

So the big news around Melbourne today is that after a rigorous interview process with 4 clubs, discussing facilities and team goals etc.. Chris Judd has chosen Carlton as his preferred destination next year. He's also requested that on match days in the change rooms there are 462 orange jelly beans and 2 bottles of water obtained from the distilling of the sweat of Himalayan monks.
What intrigues me about the whole saga though, is the photoshop skills of online news sites! Seriously, who is doing this stuff!?





I reckon I could probably get myself a job at the Herald Sun... but I'm a bit overqualified.

Blog is not a dirty word

So, some of you might have realised that I've been neglecting this blog lately. Kind of like the puppy that you've always wanted for christmas, you put the time in at the start until the novelty wears off, and then the reality kicks in, and you realise that it's actually a bit of hard work, and just because it's cute and full of fluff doesn't necessarily mean it will get you all the girls.
I also made the mistake of thinking that I had to save up stories, or think of lots to write at once to make it worthwhile. A wise lady once told me it doesn't matter how long it is, you can still get a lot of pleasure by the way it's used. Actually I think that was my sex therapist.

Stay tuned for semi regular updates.

My life is full of......... hmmm

I recently had my birthday, which gets the usual jibes of "happy birthday old man", and the stranges ones like "congratulations" and "well done", like they weren't expecting you to make it another year!
But you do kind of reflect a bit. Where your life is at, how many grey hairs you have, how many restraining orders are currently pending against you.
So here's a summary of the key things in my life at the moment.

My life is full of irony. I eat party pies when I'm not having a party. I like pole dancing, yet I'm not Polish. I chew cough lollies when I don't have a cough. Oh, except that time when I chewed one too fast, a piece got stuck in my throat and I started coughing. Now that's ironic.

My life is full of people only calling me when they want stuff. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of good people in my life that catch up just because they want to catch up with me. But there are also a heap of people who only want you for what you can do for them. Just last week I had one friend call wanting advice on something dumb , one friend call wanting me to fit them in for an "emergency" at my work, one lady from the electricity company wanting me to pay my overdue bill. It gets tiring.

My life is full of stupid instructions. I found myself staring at the container of Orange Juice before. For ages. I was only following instructions...the side of the container said "Orange Juice CONCENTRATE !"
I saw a sign on the freeway the other day that said “Next Turn Off Left”. For the next 1km I racked my brain to think of reasons a turn off would just pack up and go.
Oh, and this label on the side of a blank CD. The first three you probably wouldn't do, but it's handy to know. The last one however... hmmm. :








My life is full of cheese. The edible kind (like gouda, feta and gorgonzola), and also the non-edible kind (like Hasselhoff, Zoolander and Nova FM music). I think I need to be edgier. A bit more indie. Maybe a tattoo of the Hoff.

My life is full of sick people. Not "sick" as in keep body parts in the freezer and touch animals inappropriately, sick as in "oh my god i'm going to die of this cold". I don't seem to get sick very often, but there is always someone around me that's complaining about something. "My nose is leaking like a tap." Yeah, well that's just stupid! A properly installed tap shouldn't leak anyway! Serves you right for getting that non-English speaking plumber who uses cheap parts.
Although at least there aren't any major illnesses going around at the moment for people to get all hypochondriacal about. Gee, remember when the Bird Flu was apparently around, everyone was lining up for immunizations and stuff. There are so many conflicting stories about it, and especially where it originated.. I heard it started in Europe, and actually came from Turkey. But then someone else said it came from Chicken, so now I'm confused.

My life is full of strange Taxi drivers. There's the one who told me I have "beautiful hair". There's the one who told me www.adultmatchermaker.com is the best place to get "jiggy jiggy". And there's the one who dropped me off at 4am the other morning who told me to "have a nice night". I don't know what he thought I was going to get up to, but I was straight into bed.

My life is full of people who act smart. Not "smart" as in discussing the atomic weight of suspended hydrogen particles in molecular dysmorphia..."smart" as in "Your Mama's so fat ..when she steps on the scales it says 'to be continued'."
Although if you think about it, if they were actual "smart" people, being "smart" to eachother, they might have come up with something like "Your mother's so fat... she might have a genetic disorder linked to an inability to breakdown lipids inside the body."

My life is full of buying things on ebay. And not useful things either. I have to admit I got excited when I bought a “time machine to transport you to the 80s” from ebay, only to receive a broken watch with a picture of Boy George on it.

And finally (for now), my life is full of the internet. I couldn't live without it. The constant checking of emails, and just generally googling stuff. If it were an olympic sport I'd have a gold medal by now.
My brother setup my computer and he's a little bit internet security obsessed (and paranoid). He has all these firewalls and stuff installed...some websites don't even load properly. In fact he has so many popup blockers installed my toast wouldn't come up this morning.

What was that?

Do you ever hear songs, and think "what the hell did they say?"
Well, if you've ever played around on youtube, you might have come across some of the "misheard lyrics" videos.
Basically, people have interpreted songs as to how they think they go, with hilarious results.
There are some ordinary ones, but many are gold. Here are some highlights.
And some people say I, have too much time on my hands!

"Ain't no other man" - Christina Aguilera


"Even Flow" - Pearl Jam



"Say a little prayer" - Aretha Franklin


"Had a bad day" - Daniel Powter



"Say it right" - Nelly Furtado


"Black" - Pearl Jam







Well, I guess I did spend most of last night drinking beers by myself and pissing myself laughing at these, so obviously I do have way too much time. :|

Good Old Hells Angels forever...

I'm sick of turning on the news and hearing about Alan Didak and his brush with the Hells Angels.
Everytime you hear a report the story has changed. It's like Chinese whispers.. It starts off with him leaving the strippers in a fast car whilst a gun is fired at police, and by the end of the day it's changed to him riding home on a unicycle after leaving a Kenny G concert.
The focus has suddenly shifted to a footy player.. when really it should still be on the gunman who killed an innocent person in the street!
I did hear that Channel 9 were interested in the story...maybe for a miniseries. Apparently Eddie called Alan Didak down to the studios so he could shoot a pilot, but Didak told him "No Eddie, that's not what happened...he shot a solicitor!"
Still, I guess the whole football link is an interesting one. Didak did spend some time down at the Hells Angels headquarters (presumeably baking cakes for homeless people). What if he was merely conducting business on behalf of the CFC? Hells Angels might have considerable wealth between them. You can see the headlines now :

"Hells Angels have just been announced as the new major sponsor of the Collingwood Football Club. The club will be relocating from the MCG to it's new home, Campbellfield Oval. Next week's match against St Kilda will be to the death."

Lady Di, La-di-da.

So it's 10 years since Princess Diana passed away. She would have been 46 today.
I'm sure you would have caught some of the footage of the memorial on TV. It's a shame the real Queen couldn't be there to pay respect, but then again, Freddie Mercury died long ago too.
It's a defining moment in a lot of lives around the world, and I'm sure thousands have asked and answered the question "Where were you when you heard that Lady Di died?"
Me, not sure. I think I was on the crapper. Or as Di would have said "Sitting on the bogger."

To be honest, it's not something that really affected me. I was young, and didn't really now much about life around the world. I thought people from Albania had pink eyes and white hair.

Ten years is a long time. The world has changed immensely, and everyone seems to forget the other person that died in the accident : Dodi Fayed. I don't know if we're becoming more accepting of tragedy or what, but I suspect if news broke today that a "rich businessman died in Paris", people wouldn't bat an eyelid. They'd just assume some old guy croaked whilst having sex with one of the Hilton sisters.

People wont forget her in a hurry though. These days you can even hire Di impersonators, just in case you need a touch of poise and grace at your next corporate function/buck's night.

You do have to feel sorry for her children, Harry in particular. Not only does he have to live his life not getting to know his mother properly, but he has to endure red hair. I'm not sure what's worse, having to hear jokes like "What did Pink Floyd and Diana have in common? Their greatest hit was the Wall", or being called "Fanta Pants" for the rest of your life.

As a final rhetorical thought on the topic of Royalty, there are two things I've always wondered about the Queen :

1. Does the Queen sleep in a Queen size bed?
2. When the Queen gets asked for ID, does she just pull out a coin?

Look who's talking now.

Babies scare me. Not in a "Maccas has run out of nuggets and the fat woman is looking at me wondering how I'll taste with sweet and sour sauce" kind of way... but frightening nonetheless.
It's not that I don't like kids. I think I'd like some one day, maybe even breed a few of them and auction on ebay for a tidy profit, but not right now.
They just look like too much hard work.
The hard work starts long before the baby is even around. It's hard work making them for starters. Well, by that I mean finding someone who is willing to go halvies with you in a foetus.
Sorry, that description of having a baby sounds really wrong! Especially when I think in some African McDonalds they actually do divide Mcfoetus value meals in two.

Baby showers are something that intrigue me also. I'm so glad I'm a bloke. We get to avoid all that sort of stuff. Besides, what's so fun about standing around watching a 1yr old get hosed down in the backyard anyway?

And then there are all the presents. I went shopping for a present for a baby with my mother once. Every shop we'd go into she'd say "have a look to see if you can find any cute booties". Seriously, why mum wants me to perve on black womens' arses in a kid's clothing store is beyond me.

And how do you tell if a baby is cute or not? They all kind of look the same to me, much like puppies. And unlike puppies, kids cost a shitload to feed and look after.. and I've yet to come across a baby formula that promises healthy teeth and a shiny coat.

I've decided if by some miracle of science guys can become pregnant, then I will ask for a Caesarian. I reckon the bacon bits, anchovies and the croutons will give me the strength I need to get through pushing a baby out of my arse.
Although come to think of it, if that was the case.. maybe a Greek Salad would be better instead.

Which brings me to the real reason that I started this topic, and made you all endure my horrible and tasteless baby jokes. To tell you my favourite baby joke of all time :

What's the difference between a white baby and a black baby?
About 40 seconds in the microwave.


Please post hate mail below.

You've got (junk)mail!

Like a lot of people, I get an obscene amount of junk email coming into my inbox on a daily basis. I think it stems back years ago when my brother thought it was funny to sign me up for random mailing lists such as "Yeast appreciation society" and "Rape Victims Anonymous". Really, it was kind of childish, especially since he knew I was already a gold member of most of these already.
They pretty much try any trick in the book to get you to open them. Promises of naked bungee jumping Swedish girls, and cheap viagra might get some people, but they are getting more creative these days. Some merely say "Hi how are you?", or "want to have sex with me? aacenkjn;af", just in case you're lonely, bored, and probably a little bit drunk.

But today was a first, I received a blank email.
I couldn't quite figure it out. Is this some sort of new age thing, where you send people a blank email and they have to imagine something funny (eg Larry Emdur dressed in a superman outfit riding a unicycle?), or something interesting (eg Facts about pineapples being use to treat baldness in Elephants), or pretend it is a chain mail from a dying 6yr old Zimbabwe kid requesting money for an urgent big toe transplant?

Unfortunately tv and beer has killed my imagination, so it still remains blank for me. But I like its style.

Danthena Starman

There are so many unanswered questions in the world, such as "before they invented the drawing board, what did they go back to?" and "is baby oil made from real babies?"

People seek guidance through many avenues, and one common one is to read the daily horoscopes.
In reality though, just like when you're driving in Europe, reading the signs isn't easy.
With all that ambiguous drivel, it can be bloody confusing. The first time I read that Mercury was in retrograde I just figured it meant my thermometer was broken.

Well, fear no more. I'm here to help by analysing the stars for you, and I don't mean telling you that Owen Wilson needs a nose job.

I should clarify though, I don't actually have any crystal balls (or anything else from Sexyland), but I thought I would take the time out of my really busy schedule to explain a horoscope in laymen's terms, so you can discover its true meaning. (By the way, if anyone sees me online in half an hour remind me Big Brother is on).


So without further ado, I will now go all mystic.


CANCER (JUNE 22 - JULY 23)
The romantic partner of your dreams could very well enter your life at any moment. You’ll recognize them immediately by the electric current between the two of you. At work, stay focused to ensure a competitor doesn’t get ahead.

Dan's expert analysis :
You have been trying to fight it for so long, but it's time that you owned up to the fact you are sexually attracted to the microwave in the staff room. Watch out though, the new bitch in marketing has been eyeing him off too.

LEO (JULY 24 - AUG 23)
Increased messages, education and information sees you mentally downloading from the universe. Fine tune those communications but do keep an eye on the phone bill. A positive time connected to education and relating.

Dan's expert analysis :
It's very hard checking your myspace, emailing people and downloading full length movies when you are on miserable dialup. Plus the excess megabyte fees are expensive. Learn your lesson.. it's time to get broadband.

VIRGO (AUG 24 - SEPT 23)
This is a good time to take an in depth survey of your most important relationship. Study yourself first and determine whether any harbored anger is causing you to sabotage the connection. Tackle whatever problems exist in a healthy, direct way.

Dan's expert analysis :
Get to know yourself by masturbating as much as possible. If you're too exhausted, try taking vitamins.

LIBRA (SEPT 24 - OCT 23)
Only acceptance will allow you to move on. Remember a new seed grows from the same place, that you originally buried it. Have faith that although nothing is forever, life actually is. Living in the present is what you need now.

Dan's expert analysis :
Look, just deal with the fact that you're fat, unattractive and might possibly never have sex again. Go check on that marijuana plant you've put in the backyard, it's probably big enough to smoke now. Roll yourself a spliff and contemplate the meaning of life.

SCORPIO (OCT 24 - NOV 22)
There are changes at the top, as the power brokers reshuffle the checkerboard. Read the winds of change and set your sails accordingly. There are new starts ahead impacting on your status or career.

Dan's expert analysis :
All the bosses at work are swingers, they wife swap regularly. Make subtle hints to the right people and you'll be invited to the next party on their high priced yacht. You'll be climbing that corporate ladder to success in no time.

SAGITTARIUS (NOV 23 - DEC 22)
If it's not children that please you then you're giving birth to something new. This creative project really has wings. It pays to network now. A case of finding an appreciative audience for your talents.

Dan's expert analysis :
Even though it was thought scientifically impossible, you've found a way to conceive with birds. You're a freak, join one of those circus sideshows and you'll become rich with your half pigeon half human deviant babies.


CAPRICORN (DEC 23 - JAN 20)
This is a time that is especially favorable for enjoying friends, acquaintances and also your primary partner. Taking a "sentimental journey" together would tighten your bond of connection. A friend from the past may surface for a visit or you may choose to seek out someone to say hello.

Dan's expert analysis :
Finally someone has responded to your ad in the personals section for a dirty threesome with your missus. By cooincidence it's a friend from primary school. Dirty bastard.

AQUARIUS (JAN 21 - FEB 19)
Relationships may feel intense and complicated at this time. You may sense some negative force at work. If this is so, look deeply inside for a hidden motive. If this does not exist, then ask your partner whether he/she notices any discomfort. An open discussion will work wonders.

Dan's expert analysis :
It's possible your mate from primary school gave your girlfriend gonnorhea. It's tough, but you have to let her know. Better have her checked out.

PISCES (FEB 19 - MAR 20)
Resist the temptation to be impulsive this week, Virgo. A decision regarding your personal or financial life that is made in haste could result in future regret. A friend or colleague has some great advice, take notice before you leap into a rash choice.

Dan's expert analysis :
Always bet on black. You were gonna bet on red weren't you? Silly bugger.

ARIES (MARCH 21 - APRIL 20)
When it concerns living, and the level of lifestyle you've been used to or want to become used to, you can't avoid bringing up finances. In any negotiations over the weekend concerning cash, make sure you don't come off second best.

Dan's expert analysis :
Rent's due, you're gas bill is overdue, and they've cut off your phone. Time to reconsider that topless waitressing job that the sleazy guy at the pub keeps offering you. Haggle well and you'll be on easy street in no time.

TAURUS (APRIL 21 - MAY 21)
There's no free lunch, Taurus, and that means you also need to get something out of your good natured-ness to keep relations on an equal keel. There's nothing wrong with being selfish, that's how win-win outcomes are arrived at.

Dan's expert analysis :
Time to confront the bitch at work who has been stealing your food from the fridge.
Tell the ho that if she does it again, her mouth won't be the only place you shove your your leftover caesar salad.

GEMINI (MAY 22 - JUNE 21)
To snare that perfect job or promotion, you'll want to get noticed by the power players who can make the decisions. This is your year to advance, if extra cash hasn't already made it's way to the bank account, then it's in transit.

Dan's expert analysis :
You want a pay raise? Wear a short skirt to work, or show a lot of cleavage. If that doesn't work offer to have naked cuddles with your immediate superior in the tea room. That diamond ring you've lusted for will almost certainly be yours.

Clap Clap

If you've ever been to a taping of a TV show, you'll be familiar with the warm up guy. He's the energetic dude that is supposed to make you laugh and feel comfortable, and train you in the art of being happy at the right moments. I think they're usually failed standup comedians/traffic conductors. It's actually a lot of work being in the audience...there's like 10 different types of audience response. The warm up dude has all these hand signals, for instance two fingers means laugh hard, fist pump means wild applause, and arm waving means cheer loudly. So pretty much the same instructions I dish out in the bedroom.

Anyway, long before warm up guys, the big tv shows used to have those applause signs to let you know when to clap. Press a button, and whoever is around knows what to do. Eg :




Wouldn't life be much easier if you had such signs around?
Ah, work would be a breeze if only I had these two.

Melbourne Mayhem!

Unless you've been sleeping under a garbage bin, and probably also if you were...if you are in Melbourne there is no doubt you would have heard about yesterday's shootings in the middle of the city.
I was reading a bit in the paper about what happened..it's just terrible.
Apparently it all started when he was abusing a stripper outside Bar 20, where he had been most of the night, obviously looking at naked girls and probably getting countless lap dances. At least now we all know the answer to that old adage "Is that a gun in your pocket...?"

But I'm not trying to make jokes about the situation. It's really horrible. Especially the fact that a couple of blokes trying to do the right thing became innocent victims in it all. I really don't know what I would have done in that situation. I'm pretty gutless, the most daring thing I've done in years is to walk on a "don't walk" signal, or drink milk from the side that says "open other side". Although I did once tell a guy off at a house party when he was smashing plates on the floor and it wasn't his house... and it wasn't a Greek wedding either.

What got me thinking though was the photos of the people they showed on the news. The poor heroic lawyer guy that was killed, they had some old photo of him wearing a bow tie with his wife. They must have been struggling to find photos of the girl, because they kept mentioning and showing snippets of her "website" and photos from it, which was just her myspace page.
It makes you wonder though. I don't think I have really proper or serious photos of myself. If I was gunned down tomorrow, what photos would they show to sum up my character?
Imagine if this photo montage was on the front page, because it's all they could find.


Really. If I wasn't dead, I'd die of embarrassment.