Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Mister Big Brother

Welcome Winter, welcome Big Brother. That's right, another year of "surprise twists", "sexy singles" and "unpredictable mayhem" will be the only thing on tv for the next 3 months. I'm not saying this is a terrible show, I'll let the rest of Australia say that, and I have in fact been known to kick back on the couch with my uggies, a doona, a cup of hot Milo and at least three Milk Arrowroots and watch this reality phenomenon.

But my problem is this: The outside world is now missing 16 window lickers. Who will provide now that they're locked up together to fondle each other and dribble about, like, how they, like, are discovering themselves, you know?

Thursday, April 19, 2007

rip rip woodchip

So… the environment is decaying, right? All because we’re too busy having three hour showers, driving our cars around and leaving the fridge door open all day. Well sue me if I prefer to drink my butter in the evening. No matter what you do, you’re never going to be able to avoid all those hippies out there who expect you to shower in your toilet, knock down your house to plant a tree, only eat the fruit which the magical gay unicorn has deemed appropriate and who kick you in the arse for having another exhaust pipe tacked onto the back of your SUV. And now Winter is on its cold, miserable way, and we’re bound to get told by Sandra Sully sooner or later that having heating is just not good for the world. Well excuse me, Sandra, but we can’t all use our millions of dollars to keep us warm, can we? Heaters apparently create carbon shit and produce greenhouse emissions and contribute to global warming. Apparently this isn’t such a good thing, even though it is, in the end, the desired effect.

And so, in accordance with the Kyoto Protocol II, I present:
Mister Evil Breakfast’s Handy Enviro Hints.

- setting fire to someone in your living room provides a lot of warmth, heat and entertainment, so you can switch off the heater, lights and television for a night of good old fashioned fun.

- deodorants are a major contributor to the hole in the ozone layer due to their high levels of CFCs. Instead of wearing deodorant, try these alternatives: 1. wear Pine-Fresh air fresheners instead of necklaces and earrings; 2. be like a real hippie and avoid physical labour or activity, just sit around and complain about everything; 3. don’t ever go out in public again.

- cars pollute an awful lot. How about leaving the car at home and walking to work? Hippies don’t mind walking to work – it does help that they’re unemployed and can thus spend their day wandering between the bong and the hammock.

- Showers and baths use a lot of water, most of which is wasted. Here’s how you should now go about showering:
1. Stand in a bucket whilst under the flow of water. This will collect all water from the shower.
2. When lathering soap or shampoo, turn off all running water. Pneumonia is a small price to pay for a healthy planet.
3. Rinse soap (as long as it’s chemically approved by the Tree Huggers Union of Cosmos 9)
4. Take bucket/s out of shower. Use this water in which to wash your clothes.
5. DO NOT USE A DRYER TO DRY YOUR CLOTHES. A clothesline or airing rack will do just fine. If your clothes do not dry in time, wear them anyway. This will prevent you from sweating, and should give you another two or three wears out of each shirt.
6. Take the water from the washing and use it to clean up any plates, crockery or cutlery that you have used.
7. The water should by now be pretty cloudy, with chunks of food floating on top. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Serves 4.

- A lot of people leave lights on unnecessarily, which adds a lot of carbon to the atmosphere. If you were to collect all the carbon from one house’s light switch emissions and put it into a bag, you’d need a big bag, apparently. To cut back on your light use, try poking out your eyes.

- Microwaves are very harmful to everyone (except cockroaches, apparently). They melt and mutate things (and are NO good at reheating a cold McDonalds burger). Here’s a handy tip: Hunt your own food and cook it yourself. Hitting a cow with a couple of grenades will give you the juiciest, most tender steak you’ve ever had.

- Take along a bucket to your next sporting event. Collecting the spit from the Australian Cricket team or football team could help many drought stricken areas in rural Australia. The amount of spit from last week’s Brisbane vs Titans NRL match, for example, was enough to open a new waterslide theme park, and actually caused some flood damage in parts of New South Wales.

Come on, Australia. We can make this great brown land a little bit more green.

If we all pull together, it would be kind of gay.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Mister Punching Breakfast

People I'd Love To Punch #2: Boyd from Neighbours

I’d love to punch Boyd from Neighbours. Really hard. Repeatedly.

Boyd is a young up-and-comer in the world that is Ramsay Street. He has been married and separated; is blasting his way through a degree in medicine so fast that I’m surprised he hasn’t opened his own surgery since Dr Karl closed office and single-handedly saved baby Kerry's life... and possibly Stingray's as well. Fuck, he could have brought Madge back to life if he really wanted (he just doesn't want to). At the very least, he’s cured cancer and several strains of bird flu in his spare time. He’s been ‘addicted’ to ‘drugs’; lost, found then lost his father; boinked a chick that he found in Tasmania senseless for two weeks, then left his wife for her, then left her for his wife; and still finds time to be a dishpig at the local bar. All this, and he’s only about 19 years old, as well as being possibly the ugliest man alive, with what can only be described as “big fat girly arms” that he continues to flaunt with gay abandon (and I mean gay) under countless singlets and pink tank-tops. His own mother is the only one who tells him he’s handsome (haven’t we all been there?) and I guess if you squint really hard at your tv, it just might be true. Especially if the tv is turned off.
But physical abnormalities aside (except for his little piggy eyes, those things freak me out. I mean, his head is WAY too big for eyes that small) it’s really his acting (I use that term loosely) that annoys me the most.

Here is a typical scene from Neighbours:

Hi Boyd, how are you?

Just fine, Susan, what’s been going on? How was your holiday?

Just wonderful, thanks. It’s amazing what a bit of sun and relaxation can do.

Yeah, I’d love a holiday soon, but the money’s too tight.

Well, if you’re after some extra cash, I hear Ned is buying used pink singlets. Maybe you could sell him some of yours?

Thanks, that sounds great.

After Boyd (which isn’t even a real name, what the fuck is wrong with Neighbours? Boyd, Jenae, Pepper, Ringo… don’t even get me started on Fraser… it’s a fucking spell-checker’s worst nightmare, seriously) gets his hands on the script, he makes some “artistic” changes (noted in bold):

Hi Boyd, how are you?

BOYD (angry look #2)
Just fine Susan, how are you? (sneer) How was your holiday? (sneer)

Just wonderful, thanks. It’s amazing what a bit of sun and relaxation can do.

BOYD (angry look #2a)
Yeah, I’d love a holiday soon, but money’s a bit tight. (shifty look #7)

Well, if you’re after some extra cash, I hear Ned is buying used pink singlets. Maybe you could sell him some of yours?

BOYD (loud)
Thanks, (sneer) that sounds great. (angry look #8 or shifty look #42)

But it’s good to see that Boyd’s finally going to sneer his way into a scene that he might be able to do well, as he bails up his ex-wife in his house and sneers at her this week. But since it’s Boyd, he’ll fuck it up and offer her tea instead.


Friday, April 13, 2007

such a waste

According to this (http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/story/0,23663,21543395-7484,00.html), Justin Timberlake and Madonna are teaming up to work on her new album. Madonna’s, I mean. Welcome to the wonderful world of multiplying zeroes, people. This is the guy who apparently brought sexy “back” from wherever the hell it was (probably in the shed. Everything’s in the shed) and the chick who made ugly, dumb sluts feel good about being ugly, dumb sluts for three decades now. Well done, Mads. For someone not blessed with a lot of talent or good looks, you’ve done alright for yourself. I especially liked the way you re-recorded “American Pie” to make sure everyone knew you were a media whore, and then changed your accent to Eurotrash. Bring back the pointy boobs.

And JT? Well… fuck. If that guy isn’t following in the footsteps of Michael Jackson, I’ll eat one of his gay hats. They both came from a bubblegum pop band, cracked the big time, decided they were bigger than Jesus, left the other losers behind and embarked on a strangely successful solo career. Both are claiming titles to be the “King of Pop”, both look and act like giant homos, and both pretend they’re black.

Mark my words, children of the world – Timberlake will be playing Mickey Mouse Club with you very soon.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

so much anger

Mister Evil Breakfast’s list of people I want to punch in the head (Part 1: Groups)

If you find yourself thinking, "Hey that sounds like me!" as you read this list, you'd better be on the lookout for a pirate with a big right hook, cause that's me about to punch you into next week so I can track you down and punch you again.

In no particular order:

People who wear their sunglasses on the back of their head.
I’m not sure I really need to explain this; these people are fucking useless. My punch would be directed at the back of their sunglassed head, and then when they turn around, BANG, right in the hooter, as a reminder of where their sunglasses really should be.

People who use mobile phones in a nightclub.
BANG. Right in the mouth. And then in the ear. How’s that conversation going now, arsehead?

People who keep track of how many drinks they’ve had on a night out.
Seriously, no one cares, and if you can remember it a week later, you obviously weren’t drinking to your full potential. I’d keep punching you until I sobered up.

Conversation makers at the urinals.
Seriously. Just piss and shut up. I’m not interested. Talk to me while we're in the toilet and I’ll punch you in the back of the head so you fall into the trough and you can still taste urinal cakes four weeks later.

Bogan parents with shitty little ugly, smelly bogan kids who have snot dribbling down their chin who like to punch you in the nuts as you walk past them in the street.
I think I’ve explained that one pretty well already. They get a punch in their own little bogan nuts, in the hope that this may stop them procreating. It’s not that I don’t mind punching small children in the head, but I’d just rather not get snot on my hands.