Monday, November 24, 2008

Talking bout my motivation

If you've been on the email system during the past three minutes, chances are you have received a "De-motivational poster" as a joke attachment. You know the ones that have the kitten hanging from a tree branch with the caption, "Hang in there", or a picture of a mountain with the words "Perseverance is everything" or some such bullshit? Well, the de-motivationals would have a picture of a cat in a tree with the caption "I hate cats" and a mountain with the words "this is a fucking tall mountain lol!!"

Anyway, I thought I'd give it a crack of my own (I got bored over the weekend). This series is dedicated to the person I despise the most right now... Mr Ricky Chipmunk Ponting.


I have no idea how these are going to turn out, so if you can't read them properly, either get your eyes checked, call the Reading/Writing Hotline (1300 06 555 06), or click on the pics and they should go bigger. I don't know, I'm not a computer genius.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Thursday bloody Thursday

Things that shit me:

Crap TV shows

Crap celebrities

Crap Australian cricketers

Things that shit me today:

Crap TV shows

Crap celebrities

Crap Australian cricketers

Let's wipe the dust off our crowbars and start whacking...

Crap TV Shows

You know who needs to see a movie called Australia? Australians, apparently. You know who would rather not be badgered by horrible marketing campaigns about a movie called Australia, set in Australia, starring Australians and made by Australians? Australians. You know who's way more excited about this film than she should be? Oprah Winfrey. I watched fourteen seconds of some crap called 'Oprah Winfrey yells at Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman for an Hour' and saw (i) Oprah Winfrey yell at Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman; (ii) Oprah mentally undress Hugh Jackman, dip him in chocolate and eat him; and (iii) Nicole Kidman struggle to look human.

I couldn't stand it anymore, so I flicked over to Getaway... which had a story on Australia the movie. Dermot Brereton (I think, all AFL players look alike to me) made casual conversation with a real-life drover seem as painful as watching an actual game of AFL. The best edit they came up with for that particular story was the following gripping exchange:

Dermot Bererereton: "Nice sunsets you're got around here."

Drover: "Yep."

Dermott Beneton: "Beautiful. Absolutely perfect."

Drover: "Yep."

Kermit Bertnewton: "Sensational, mate."

Drover: "...yep."

Trust me on this one, Dermie - he didn't fucking make the sunset. He just lives in a magical place where the sun occasionally sets.

By the way, next time you make a mahoosive deal about how fucking spectacular a sunset is, don't do it in the middle of the day. Wait until, oooh I dunno... sunset.

The next story on Getaway involved some pelican wandering around Sydney drinking coffee at a bunch of different cafes. Some people have hard jobs, I reckon.

This brings me to...

Crap celebrities

Exhibit A: Ms Katriona Rowntree. I have seen her in person, and although I was well on my way to being past my best in terms of table manners at the time, I can say without a shadow of a lie that she is REALLY short, and a bit of a bitch. This was again proven in Getaway (not that she's short, that's just a fact you'll have to trust me on), but during her "job", she managed to endure a trip to Samoa and patronise everyone she met. She was as surprised as fourteen goats in a limousine to find that these people had mobile phones and(gasp) television, and that she could talk to them about general things like family and careers.

Holy shit Kaortina, it's as if these people are... human!

Which then brings me back to...

Crap TV shows

The Amazing Race. Actually, it's an enjoyable TV show, but the contestants are all pretty much idiots... if I was going on a reality game show where it entailed me to travel to foreign countries in hurried and high-pressure situations, I'd probably (i) pick up a map at some stage of my life and look at places other than my own neighbourhood; and (ii) take someone along with me who I know I'll be able to talk to and rely on.

If I had married and then divorced someone, I probably wouldn't take them. If I couldn't live with them in a house, sharing an airplane seat for the next few weeks with them probably wouldn't bode well.

I also wouldn't take someone I'd just started dating either. Nothing gets a relationship off to a strong start like yelling at your new girlfriend for spray-painting a car in India too slowly.

Then there's Bones. Fuck you, Bones. This show shits me. One-dimensional characters doing one-dimensional things who know everything about everything ("...that pollen comes from a particular typeof Japanese cherry blossom" was one of the great lines that allowed Bones and Buffyguy to catch their killer) makes the hour before Heroes feel like I've just watched another fucking documentary on Australia.

Also, I hate TV shows where they use computers that beep every time something on the monitor moves (including the cursor). That would piss me off something chronic. You know how it is when someone's mobile phone keeps beeping? Imagine that, but every single second of the day. There wouldn't be enough crowbars in the world, my friend.

Right now, I need eleven crowbars for...

The Australian Cricket Team

You guys suck. Well, I'll let Huss off, because I love him like Oprah loves a chocolate-covered Hugh Jackman, and Pup gets a reprieve for this game as well because he knuckled out 98 runs (be honest, Clarkey, you didn't deserve the ton; you edged 83% of the deliveries you faced), but everyone else gets a special delivery from the Crowbar Fairy (who is actually a pirate). Watson gets a double serving, because he's tits useless.

Wow. This is a long post. Here's a picture of a robot. If I made a robot, it sure as hell wouldn't be playing the violin. Unless, of course, playing the violin made people catch on fire.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Chef's surprise

Due to a recent outbreak of violent attacks involving crowbars (thank you, anonymous comment-leaver), I've decided to become a bit more circumspect in my rantings and put the crowie away for the week. However, I feel I need to get something off my chest, and instead of adding them to my infamous Crowbar List TM, I will add them to the reservation list at the Coogee Bay Hotel.

So who's munching on a shit sandwich today?

- Aussie cricket team (but mostly Ricky Ponting)

Even after the bashing I gave them last week, they still didn't improve too much. I'm pointing a big, fat finger at Ricky Ponting as the main poo-eater here. The other boys picked up their games somewhat (even Shane Watson got wickets, for fuck's sake), but Ponts didn't want a bar of it. Or maybe he wanted to go back to the bar. In any case, he wasn't too keen on playing cricket. One double-scoop cone of your finest for the captain, please!

While we're on the subject of cricket, I'm sending a slice of choc-shit-mint slice to all the journalists who use the term 'reverse swing'. There's outswing (the ball moves away from the right hander) and inswing (moves into the right hander). Reverse swing? Which fucking way is it going?

- Barack Obama

Nothing against the guy, I'm just a bit over him. For a country that everybody hates, the media sure gave the US election a lot of attention. And being a bit honest here - it means dick all to Australia. As long as there are Oreos being processed and delivered to my local shops, I'm a happy camper. Besides, Morgan Freeman was the first black president anyway. Doesn't anyone remember "Deep Impact"? Meanwhile, Kevin Rudd's going to streak at the footy just so he can get on tv again. One 'chocolate' mousse for the new President, thanks.

- People everywhere

"Wah wah wah, the stock market crashed! The world is over!" The world is not over, stop being such a wanker and eat your Coogee Shit Pie. Has anyone noticed it, really? My groceries cost me an extra 13 cents, but I'm not about to sell my good kidney for it, because I'm pretty sure I bought 13 cents worth of extra grapes. Until Woolies is paying people to shop there, everyone will complain about the price of something. Can't buy a new car? Don't get one. Can't afford Foxtel? Then watch free-to-air; they're mostly the same shows anyway. Can't afford internet? Don't get it then - I'm sure your Facebook friends will be disappointed beyond all belief (they might even say "DBAB man! LOL!" on your 'wall') that they won't know that you're either "listening to Duran Duran LOL!!" or "feeling a bit sweaty gross LOL!!".

- Baz Lurhhhman and Nicole Kidman

Baz gets the award for the most unimaginative film title ever for "Australia". Nice work, Barry. Have a poo-covered lamington, tiger. I'm also offering an eclair de shit to Nicole Kidman, just so I can see if that will get her to change her facial expression. Nom nom nom.

- Good News Week

Channel 10 took off 90210 for another serve of this torrid dirge of lameness? Seriously, this show had its run back in 1923, and it was mildly entertaining then, but now it's a sad parody of itself that doesn't even try to convince the viewers that the script is improvised. If I have to wait for Mikey Robins to stutter and stammer and rush his way through another explanation of a "crazy" news story about a cat who can count, followed by a predictable and not-entirely-clever punchline, I'm going to hide a crowbar in the Shit Pizza I'm delivering to the GNW set. Hey Paul, sing that fucking song you always do. That'll be a surprise. And get more politicians on as guests, they're a laugh riot.

Bon appetit!