Wednesday, January 28, 2009

there once was a man from nantucket

The English language is a funny old beast; I mean, I don't ROFL when I'm reading the dictionary or anything, and I'd probably laugh more during an episode of Family Guy than I would just talking to myself... actually, the English language isn't that funny at all. In some instances, it's perfectly annoying. Yes, that's more like it. So disregard the first sentence of this post, it's all shit. English isn't funny at all.

One of the annoyances is its lack of rhyming words. Rhyming words can help to make you sound poetic, which is a great way of getting girls to like you. There are probably other ways as well, but I haven't found them just yet. As soon as I do though, you'll be the first people to know.

Anyway, during a recent drinking game, it was observed that there are several words in the English language that don't have rhyming partners. No longer, my friends. Stupidly, most of these words are colours, like purple, orange and silver, which makes it hard to do "Roses are red, violets are purple" kind of poems, unless it goes:

"Roses are red,
violets are purple,
the world is an egg
and nothing rhymes with purple."

See how shit that is? Purple, orange, silver... no fucking rhymes.

"Gary won gold
as his psychic foretold,
Barry took silver...
which was a pretty good effort,
and Larry got bronze,
which he sold to buy some swans."

Actually, bronze doesn't have too many rhymes either.

Other words that don't have a decent rhyme are month, scalp and angst. I can't believe angst doesn't have a rhyme, as surely it is used by emo poets the world over. So to help out emos (because they need it), as well as normal, functioning members of society, I have done everyone a favour by introducing... the next step of languageness:

Lurple - the act of riding in the boot of a car. (The back seat was full, so one person had to lurple for the drive home.)

Borange - to ask for an item that is either impossible or not intended to be returned to the lender. (May I borange a cigarette? Do you have a tissue that I could borange? Would you like to borange a post-it note?)

Grilver - yawning to the point of tears. (It appeared that he was crying during The Notebook, but told his friends that it was just grilver.)

Nonth - to fall upwards. (Kate took a nonth at the bottom of the staircase.)

Chalp - a familiar yet unknown person (I swear I've met this chalp before.)

Frangst - to be given incorrect change. (As I tried to pay for parking, I realised the chick at Subway had frangst me.)

If you can work lurple into a "roses are red" kind of poem, I'll buy you a beer.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

oh mr sandman, bring me a dream

summer lovin', having a blast

Even the Death Star was feeling the summer heat. Vader really should have used Dulux Heatshield Weatherproof paint.

Dear Summer,

Thank you for finally arriving, and it appears that you're making up for your late appearance with gusto - kudos to you, and thanks for the temperatures in the high 30s. I had forgotten how it feels to stick to my couch.

If you're sticking around for the next month or so, we should catch up for a beer before you head off overseas again. Let me know when you're free! I can't do Tuesdays though.

Cheers tiger,

Mister Evil Breakfast

That's right, sportsfans; summer is here and has hit us in the butt like a fridge door that you left open as you rummage around in it looking for a jar of pickles. Here's Mister Evil Breakfast's Survival Guide to the Season That's in Everyone's Top Four List, Summer (MEBSGttSTiETFLS). I fucking love acronyms. IFLA.


Food during summer is a piece of piss - dust off your hot plate, fill up your gas bottles and fire up that barbecue. The humble 'q' is a versatile invention, and can be used to knock up a feast of sausages in the same time that it takes the butcher to ask "thick or thin?" The best thing about a bbq (other than the fact that it can be abbreviated quite beautifully, and involves a letter that doesn't actually exist in its original form), is that it doesn't matter if you burn the food you're cooking - in fact, you will become a better host and more accomplished chef if the food you supply up is at least 60% charcoal.

Serving a salad at your barbie is strictly optional, but if there are women-folk around, chances are that you'll have to provide some kind of green stuff for them. However, as women-folk are want to do, they will ask you if you would like them to bring a salad. This is women-folk code for "I don't trust you to have food that isn't meat, so I'll bring some greens." So in preparing your barbecue provisions, do not buy any unnecessary salad items, or they'll just go brown and soggy in your fridge.

If you don't actually own a barbecue, you should head down to Bunnings and pick one up. Also, you could grab 8 litres of paint and a cordless drill for a good price.


When you either invite or are invited to meet for a drink with friends, don't expect to be sipping on a coffee. The order of the day is beer, my friend. Nothing goes as well on a hot day as a tall glass of liquid gold. Beer, I mean, not really liquid gold - I don't think that would be refreshing at all, and would probably be quite hazardous to your health. If you wake up feeling a bit dodgy after a night of too much beer, I can imagine that after a few pints of melted gold, you'd be feeling a whole lot worse.

Stubbie holders

The stubbie holder is an out-and-out necessity. Carry one at all times, as summer provides ample drinking opportunities and you don't want to be caught without one. A stubbie holder is simple - it keeps your beer cold and your hand at a relatively comfortable temperature. They come in many different designs, from promotions for Jim Beam or Tooheys Extra Dry, or even a message from the Australian Government to "count your drinks" or "dial before you dig," to slogans, places, football teams or events. When given the choice at a friend's house, please pick your stubbie holder responsibly. You don't want to be subconsciously supporting Manly, do you?


Put away your winter woollies, crack out your shorts, t-shirts and thongs, baby. Rifle through your drawers and find your swimmers. If you're feeling adventurous, consider buying yourself a few tank tops. Are they still called tank tops? I haven't worn a tank since 19-dickety-two, and don't really intend on doing it again any time soon. I think they're just for girls and guys in hotted up cars with shit hair. Anyway, with all this skin that's been cooped up inside a hoodie for the last nine months suddenly being exposed to the sun, you should take care of yourself and adopt the tried-and-true concept of "Slip, slop, slap (and wrap" - I'm not a fan of the additional line myself; I think sunglasses are important and awesome [particularly since I just got a new pair], but for me, it kind of ruins the jingle. It's like when they introduced Poochie to Itchy and Scratchy). Or you could just lather yourself in baby oil, either one works fine.


I hope you're a fan of cricket and ironman competitions, because that's about all you'll be able to watch until about February. Both sports are great viewing entertainment while you're kicking back on the lounge with a beer and a bag of chips, so you can criticise the guy who's just run 40km on a beach for not paddling his kayak hard enough to catch a wave. I mean come on, the guy's just been paddling for the last 3 hours, surely he knows how to do it properly by now? Also, it's good to see Ponting bat and fail so Mike Hussey can come in and win everyone's heart. I'll drink to that.


In Australia, from mid-December through to the end of February, there are suddenly around 20 million extra insomniacs running around the streets. The windows are open, the fan is going, the sheets are off, you've got a damp towel over your face and ice cubes on your body, yet you're still sweating like a paedophile in a Humphrey suit. Add to that the fact that there seems to be a particularly noisy mosquito convention going on in your ear, you'll be happy when the sun finally rises and you can get up and don't need to try to fool yourself that you'll be able to sleep any more.

Dear Mister Evil Breakfast,

Sorry again that I was late in arriving - I really am quite embarrassed! I'm glad you're enjoying the high temperatures and lack of wind. Deodorant sales are up!

Would love to grab a beverage with you - how's next Friday? I'll give you a call during the week and we'll set something up. We should head down the pub and watch the cricket - I heard the other day that Ponting is still shit. Wait, I heard that from you. Never mind.

See you soon!

love Summer

Monday, January 12, 2009

Welcome to the future

Happy new year, pelicans! Hope it's treated you well thus far.

Well, 2008 was a splendid 366 days of non-stop laughs and action. Unless I'm mistaken, we saw the birth of the internet, recreational space flight, the invention of curry-flavoured dim sims, and Chicken Twisties won Australia's Next Top Model. Don Bradman hit a century in an over, Michael Jordan ran the 100 metres in 18 seconds and Fatty Vautin became Australia's Next Top Model. Pirates attacked Coogee, I love Portuguese chicken and Kevin Bloody Wilson won Australia's Next Top Model. It was a big year.

We can't keep living in the past, let's look forward to 2009, where I see the following things happening:

Bold and Beautiful leaving the 6pm time slot. Even though I'm a bit sick of The Simpsons, I'll watch every freaking episode (even the one where they just rehash all the songs they've performed over the years) than sit with this drivel. Days is better anyway, but I'd still watch The Simpsons over that as well.

TV Weathermen to be completely lost. Seriously, I thought we were meant to be having some sort of global warming phenomenon going on here - I had to pull out my beanie the other night it was so cold. And now I'm sweating like six goats in a shed. "And now onto the weather with Phillip Weatherman... Phil, what's in store for us this week?" "Fucked if I know! The whole country has gone to shit." The meteorlogical board must be shitting themselves right about now.

The whole universe to get over Gordon Ramsay. Turn on your TV, pick up a newspaper or switch on your Googlemachine and you're sure to find something relating to everyone's favourite foul-mouthed chef. And yes, I can see the irony in posting something about too much Gordon Ramsay, which adds to the Gordon Ramsay intergoogle traffic. I know what irony is.
I don’t hate Gordo, but I don’t particularly like him either. In case you’re thinking "Who the fuck is Gordon fucking Ramsay?", he’s a fucking chef who says "fuck" a lot. Big fucking deal. I swear when I cook as well, but no-one’s making seventy thousand TV shows about me as I combine baked beans and toast, are they? Ramsay is in such high demand that you can catch one of his fucking cooking shows on three different channels. And when his shows aren’t on (I’m pretty sure someone at Channel 9 got fired for not putting on another episode of Hell’s Kitchen Nightmares Celebrity Cook-Off Challenge for one night of the year), we’re berated by news stories about him having affairs or falling down a mountain while hunting puffins or the day he ran out of toothpaste.
Sorry Gramsay, I know it’s not your fault, but I’m just a bit sick of you right now. I’m sure you have millions of dollars to roll around in to soak up the tears of losing a viewer. I hope that money lasts when the world switches off, tiger.

Justin Timberlake to remain white. Despite his best intentions to try and fool everyone into thinking that he's an "African American" by saying "dog" and "izzle" a lot, JT will remain the whitest guy in the history of white people everywhere. The Beatles' White Album takes pity on Timberlake for being so damn white. Also, because his music is dog's balls and he is a girl.

Fifty-seven remakes of old movies and TV shows that were once good that now aren't will hit our screens in 2009. Michael Bay is following up his Transformers abomination with Transformers 2: More Abysmal, The Karate Kid is getting a face-lift (starring L'il Bow Wow or Will Smith's kid or someone equally as mis-matched to the part), even Friends is being translated into a movie, for fuck's sake! Not to mention every single comic ever drawn has already been given the green light to go ahead to the silver screen. Can't wait for the Wizard of Id movie to be released.

That FreeTV thing with digital channels won't be as good as people think it will be. Enough said. As long as I can still watch Letterman, I'll be happy.

Warney to punch Kevin Rudd in the head. Just because I think it would make him an even greater human being. I reckon Rudd is the kind of bloke who would hate it when you call him "Kev", and has probably never eaten a meat pie in his life. He makes me angry.

People with iPhones to shut up about them. It won't happen; I'm a realist, but it would be nice. We can dream, can't we? Speaking of dreams, I had a weird one the other night where one of my friends was in my car, and he had grey hair and was a woman. And not a particuarly attractive or convincing woman, either. Anyway, mobile phones are becoming disturbingly techy - some of them have a little kickstand on them so you can plonk it on your table to watch TV and movies. Seriously folks, if you have a table, chances are that you have a TV already - turn that on instead; it won't hurt your eyes as much and it won't run down your battery.

Ben Cousins will fuck up and get back on the drugs. Ben's cousin will be disappointed in him, as will his uncles, aunts and anyone who had faith that ol' Benny boy would give up the juice. Some idiots will talk about how bad a role model he is and should be sent to jail. People should pick their role models a bit better if they look to junkies for guidance. Then we'll all get over it and worry about Ricky Ponting's form slump.

McDonalds will continue to release shit burgers, yet remain seriously popular. Fuck it, they should just get rid of everything except cheeseburgers, and they'd still be massively successful. Cheeseburgers are my life. I had a KFC filler thing on the weekend, it was fucked; I would recommend against eating one unless it's for a dare.

Beer to remain awesome. It's been awesome for 2,000 years and if it gets fucked up now, I'm going to be SO pissed off.