Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
With a great Christmas comes great responsibility, and the biggest responsibility is grabbing some decent pressies for your loved ones, even though Christmas is all about spending time with your family and shit. It just turns out that it’s a lot easier to spend quality time with your family if you have a new iPod.
So what do you get your family, friends and loved ones? After perusing a handful of Chrissy catalogues over the weekend, it became apparent that there is a veritable smorgasbord of shit out there in which to stuff a stocking with, and while I can’t tell you what you should buy – you probably know your great aunt Gladys better than I do – I can tell you what NOT to buy.
Nose hair trimmers.
Some people in this world have hairier nostrils than others, but there’s probably a better time and place to tell them that than when everyone’s sitting around the Christmas tree. Little Johnny unwraps his Ninja Turtle toy, Little Sally opens her Barbie carousel, and Uncle Mike opens his nose-hair trimmers and spends the next few hours nervously sipping his Christmas beer and pretending that the fact that everyone in his family reckons he’s a big hairy munter doesn’t bother him.
Adult “gag” gifts.
As hilarious as farting garden gnomes that tell you to “Go fuck yourself” or pull their pants down and have a wank are, they should not be given as gifts unless you:
(a) are a bogan, or
(b) you want to officially announce to your family that you really don’t give a fuck & wanted to spend $20 to prove that.
Note: if you do opt for the wanking gnome toy, make sure you nick the batteries out of your host’s remote control to power the thing. It’ll really piss them off and completely top off your Xmas.
There are two rules that dictate whether or not you should give hand-made gifts at Chrissy:
1. If you can actually make things to the point where you own a shop that sells them, you are entitled to give whatever the hell you want as gifts.
2. If you are six years old or younger, you are entitled to give your mum whatever piece of shit you constructed in the last few weeks of school.
That’s it though; no one else is allowed to try and give crappy home-made mugs, paintings or shoeboxes with glitter and macaroni glued onto it as a present. While it’s “the thought that counts,” it also might bother them that they bought you a Nintendo in exchange for a collection of ‘interestingly shaped rocks.’
Buying for teenagers is getting fairly tricky these days, so unless you know exactly what the little bundles of joy actually want, don’t even fucking think about it. Imagine the look on poor Emo Johnny’s face when he opens up an X-box when he really wanted a PS3, or the humiliation that Emo Sally would face when she turns up to school with an iPhone 3 instead of the iPhone 4. Your technological fuckup would be commemorated forever on Twitter as @EmoJohhny writes “mi parentz r fukin stoopid a xbox iz NOT a PS3 fukin douche I cant evn play left4dead FML”
Happy shopping, merry Christmas and have a rollickingly drunken new year!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Australia head into the Perth Test 1-0 down in the series, a scoreline that flatters them somewhat, with an unlikely chance to level up this greatest of sporting stoushes. Stoushe stoushe stoushe.
Following the embarrassment of losing a Test in Adelaide, a place that was invented solely for the purpose of having a high-scoring draw in Test matches, the Aussie line-up has undergone a few necessary changes: Gone is Marcus North, who finally became shit enough to be dropped completely and forgotten about forever; Simon Katich was struck down by sideways-walkingitis (the most common affliction of crabs) and will have his Achilles’ heel reconstructed Robocop-style; some bloke that no one had ever heard of before (even his mum) called Michael Beer has come into the team simply because the Australian selectors wanted, nay, needed, someone who could provide journalists and copywriters with a clever play on words for their headlines. It has been too long since “England have been Warne-d” and “Casualties of Waugh” were seen gracing the back pages of our newspapers, and even though “Ponting is rubbish” is true, as a headline it just lacks a little magic. I look forward to “Poms feast on Beer” and “Beer gives Aussies hangover” during the game, followed by “Pub with no Beer” after he gets kicked out of a nightclub for exposing himself at a bonding session following another innings defeat. Anyway, Beer is the newest addition to the 10-man spin-bowling condom used by the Australian selectors to protect Steve Smith from being career-endingly fucked by the English batsmen.
Speaking of Smith, he has curiously been brought into the team for the Perth Test - not because of any amount of cricketing skill - but as a stand-up comedian. I would have thought that having someone who is able to bowl or bat might be more useful to a cricket team, but I guess that’s why I’m not a selector. Steve secured his position in the team by beating fellow comics Akhmal, who is still telling Lebanese jokes on Good News Week; and Russell Gilbert, who hasn’t told a joke in about 23 years.
Phil Hughes has earned himself a recall after a few years in the wilderness. Hughes is a bogan child who will one day probably be an arrogant fuck of an Australian captain - many have claimed that his weakness against bouncers and short-pitched bowling will be his downfall, but not much is written about the fact that Hughes stands roughly around the same height as a cricket stump, so anything that bounces on the pitch can therefore be deemed as “short-pitched” bowling.
Mitch Johnson is back in contention after “being rested” for the previous game, and is talking up his ability to bowl well on his home pitch. Mitch moved to Western Australia around three years ago and has played approximately two games there. If he was speaking about his actual home ground (the Gabba), then his smack-talking was even more out of line as he sent down 42 wicketless overs for 170 runs in the first Test.
Can this Aussie bunch reclaim a bit of pride and restore balance to the Ashes contest? Well… Clarke is useless, Ponting’s the same, Watson has a morbid fear of big scores, none of the bowlers learnt from Hilfenhaus’ first over in Adelaide (and every ball that Glenn McGrath has ever bowled) about where to land the ball, and the selectors seem to be overstocked with baggy green caps that they are desperate to get rid of... so my answer is "no."
Every kid who’s playing state, club, church or backyard cricket right now is in the running to play for Australia within the next month. It’s a great time to be a cricketer; pity it’s not a great time for Australian cricket.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Here’s what we can look forward to on Aussie TV over the next few months:
Biel of Fortune – contestants spin Jessica Biel around on a wheel for no real reason other than people will watch Jessica Biel do pretty much anything.
Two and a Half Wendts – Jana Wendt stars in her long awaited television revival in this black comedy about a journalist and a cloning machine (includes Lotto results)
So You Think You Are Grant – contestants compete to be Australia’s best Grant Denyer look-alike and take over Grant’s busy television schedule.
SeaShane – drama series starring Shane Warne, Shane Lee, Shane Heal, Shane Crawford, Shane Bourne and Shane Watson as part of a community who discover how hard life can be when you’re called “Shane.”
Bana Man – animated series based on one man’s ability to turn into actor Eric Bana.
Law and Border – former Test cricketers Stuart Law and Allen Border are part of an elite detective squad who solve crimes in between commentating for Fox Sports and appearing at public speaking obligations.
Seal or No Seal – contestants guess whether the suitcase that they are carrying contains the body of soul singer Seal, or another celebrity.
Farmer wants a Fyfe – Hey Hey It’s Saturday cartoonist Andrew Fyfe tries his hand at farming, but still finds time to draw some shit.
Bondi Jett – martial arts star Jett Li shows residents of Australia’s most famous beach new ways to defend themselves against poorly made lattes and chicks with dogs in their handbags.
The Apprenticeship – contestants compete against each other for the chance to win a minimum wage job for four years.
The Doohan Transfer – motorcycle legend Mick Doohan and a panel of experts discuss the best ways to recover from a shattered spine.
How I Met You, Marcia – in this long-running sitcom, Australian Idol judge Marcia Hines is reminded about how the time a fan bumped into her at the shops.
Fran vs Wilde – The Nanny star, Fran Drescher, fights 80s pop star Kim Wilde.
Love Tim May – drama series surrounding former Test spinner.
Packed by the Rafters – Pat Rafter and his family help ordinary Australians to move house by loading their furniture into a removalist truck.
Undercover Ross – newsreader Ross Stevenson dons a false moustache and a wig to try and gain employment without anyone noticing.
Steady Eddie Cook – Australia’s favourite cerebral palsy suffering comedian turns his hand to cooking, with awkward results.
Roll on, winter months!
Friday, December 10, 2010
I don’t know what annoys me more about this guy – the fact that his voice shits me to tears or that it’s almost impossible to stop watching. I think my favourite part is around the 2:14 mark when his mum (who’s holding the camera for him) almost axes him and forces him to break character, which would have required him to start all over again. I’m assuming he got his mum to do the filming, because I think it would be rare for someone like this to have other friends who were actually real and able to operate a video camera.
I also like when he name drops Harry Potter author J.K Rowling as “Jo”, kind of the same way I name drop U2 guitarist The Edge as “The” in conversation.
While I do appreciate the lengths that being an obsessed fan will go to, I can’t help but worry that the next time I see this guy, he’ll be found dead in a castle, wearing a suit made out of Daniel Radcliffe’s skin.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
For my fellow Australian fans, the first two Ashes Test matches have been fascinating for those of us who enjoy pulling the wings off flies whilst boiling your own scrotum in vats of chilli oil.
In the past five days, the former champions of the cricket world (aka The World) have achieved the following:
Collected six wickets in conceding 1,192 runs and bowled 304 overs, whilst losing twenty-one wickets in 211 overs for 656 runs. To say we’re half as good at batting and three times as bad at bowling as England would be just about right.
I’ve been following the Aussie team for as long as I can remember, and my D-grade indoor cricket record speaks volumes of that. In my illustrious career, if a batsman hit a short, wide ball for four, we’d follow the tried and untrue method of bowling shorter and wider. To be fair to my team, we’d normally had a couple of beers before we played and had to pay about $15 a game for the privilege. I’m assuming that Ponting didn’t cough up too much cash to pad up and score 9 runs in the latest Test.
My indoor cricket team were shit, and we appreciated that fact. We didn’t try and sledge the opposition batsman when they hit us for six (around 5 balls per over). Cricket Australia is in the position now where Shane Watson can’t give lip to Alistair Cook for having a pooncy name and then ask Shane Warne to get him out. There’s no Adam Gilchrist to hit a quick 90 runs off one Graham Swann over to push the run-rate up. These days, there’s Ricky Ponting and there’s Doug Bollinger. One’s a retarded, shaved monkey and the other has taken those shavings and glued them to his head.
Australia is now on par with New Zealand and the West Indies. They are marginally ahead of Pakistan, only because the Pakis keep taking bribes to try and be shit, rather than accept a salary to actually be shit. They’re a half-step up from Zimbabwe and Bangladesh, two countries whose cricketing heroes can be seen at the village markets selling hand-raised piranhas in order to feed their families, get an education and buy a cricket stump with what’s left over.
Cricket Australia – it’s time to get some respect, some perspective and someone worthwhile to give the Allan Border medal to. If you’re short of candidates, I once got two wickets in a row in indoor cricket, but sent down a short, wide one for the magic hat-trick ball and was subsequently hit for six. The batsman and I had a beer after the game and laughed about it. Not together, mind you, but the thought was there.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Mischa Barton: Katich
You know what to expect when Kat krabs his way onto the field – nothing fancy, no bullshit, plays the same way every time, love him or hate him. By the time he got to have another crack in the second innings at the Gabba, the game was dead and it was obvious to everyone watching that he had come down with a massive case of the Mischa Bartons and just couldn’t be fucked trying any more.
Angelina Jolie: Watson
Everything about Angelina Watson seems good, but when was the last time you seriously enjoyed watching her movies/seeing Watson play? People like her/him because they think they should, not because they actually do.
Lady Gaga: Ponting
No one knows where she came from, what she does or what gender she is. People also ask these questions of Lady Gaga.
Nicole Kidman: Clarke
Everyone used to love “our Nicole” when she was first making her way into the Hollywood elite and staking her claim as the next big thing. Then people realised that she really wasn’t that attractive, couldn’t act and kept appearing in fucking terrible movies. Pup Clarke has followed this trend by relying on his reputation as Australia’s next captain to not bother doing anything of use to anyone and just la-la-la-ing his way through life. I’d smash both him and Kidman in the face, if I thought there was any part of them that wasn’t completely plastic.
Natalie Portman: Hussey
I don’t think I need to talk about how awesomely hot, talented and so freakin close to perfect I think Mike Hussey is. Portman is ok too.
Lindsay Lohan: North
Fucking nightmare. Every time LiNorth leaves rehab/gets runs, they get back on the smack/ducks and generally make a mockery of being rich/an Australian cricketer.
Waitress at the trendy café that you always walk past: Haddin
You always have a bit of a perve at the waitress at the trendy café, but you’re never quite sure about her. Sometimes she appears nice and relaxed, is wearing a Decemberists t-shirt, and you think that maybe you should talk to her… but the next day she acts like a bitch, makes shit coffee, is wearing a Phil Collins t-shirt and has knuckle tattoos. Brad Haddin makes a decent coffee, but that’s about all.
Betty White: Johnson
Some time over the past few years, Betty White crept back onto our screens, appearing randomly in tv shows and commercials, playing up the fact that she’s Betty White, an old duck who’s a bit “quirky”. It worked well for her, until the ‘Mitch Jonhson’ novelty factor wore off and now no one gives a fuck about either of them, and would actually prefer the rapping granny from the Wedding Singer to come back.
Bryce Dallas Howard: Doherty
Everything is there and looks nice enough – hair, eyes, mouth, body… but for some reason, it doesn’t quite gel together. Still, Bryce and Doherty are adequate subs when there’s no one better around.
Britney Spears: Hilfenhaus
Whenever Britto has fucked up, she’s been lucky enough to be able point to the people around her and say, “Sure, I shaved my head… but I’m not off the planet spastic like Amy Winehouse/ Lindsay Lohan/ Paris Hilton.” Hilfy gets that, and points out that he bowled better than Johnson just to keep his head off the block.
Winona Ryder: Siddle
Remember when everyone loved Winona? Then she disappeared… and no one noticed or cared?