Haters gonna hate shake n bake...

The Triple J Hottest 100 controversially left out the Taylor Swift hit pop song "Shake It Off" from their countdown, despite Tay-Tay fans flooding the polls with thousands of votes.

Some have called it "an abuse of a democratic exercise."  Others have taken to Twitter to describe it as "totes unfair like t swizzle deserves to be no 1 who'se jet fakir anyway? #dumbass #haterz", with a host of people declaring their stance by posting "this is why I don't listen to JJJ in the first place."

For those who are pissed off by Triple J's stance not to play Taylor Swift in the first place, and then not include her votes in the second (by way of being ineligible for the first reason), it has become quite apparent that you've missed the whole point of her song.  T-Swiz would be disappointed.  And you know that means that she's writing a shithouse new song about you for her next album... which also won't be played on Triple J.

Shave your moth.

my essay

wun day many weaks ago i played hockey and had beer and then i say to my freinds "i have to go home now" and i got in my car and on the way home i stoped to buy some bred and some milk for some milk sammiches and then i thort "i should buy more beer to have at home" so i bought a six pack of beer to have at home and the girl at the register piched up the bred and scanned it and then she picked up the milk and scaned it and then piked up the six pack and she scanned it but she did'nt scann the six-pack barcode she only scanned a single beer that was in the six-pack and then she said "that will be $9 please" and i says "oh that is cheap here is $10" and she gives me a dollar change and she coold tell that somethink was wrong but when she looked at the receet it said ‘bred and milk and beer’ and then she lookt inside the bag and it had bred and milk and beer in it so she gave it to me and i walked out of the shops and i was happy that i only spent a few dollars on six beers and i didn’t mind that she put them all in the same bag and even though the bred was a little squashed it was the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.

Don't dry for me, Argentina

Just quietly, if anyone pours me a beer like this, you'll be tasting crowbar for a week.

To celebrate the holiday of Day Ending in Y, I went down to the pub with some mates for a quick beer. Being in the festive spirit, I decided that I would get the first shout. I sidled up to the bar with the other party-goers partaking in "Day Ending in Y" shenanigans to order my drinks. I looked at the beer options that were available: Premium Dry. Super Dry. Extra Dry.

How dry do people need their beers? Stupendously Dry? Really Really Dry? Or what if you didn't want it to be too dry - would you have a schooner of A Little Dry or Sorta Dry? Where's Fairly Dry and Could Be Dryer? What does Not Dry At All taste like? Will I die without drinking the goodness of A Little Bit Dry But Not So Bad That You Need A Glass Of Water?

How long will it be until we're ordering pints of sand? And will there be different Dry factors of sand? Will I order a few pints of Sand Mega Dry? And will Sand Mega be any different to Sand Ultra Dry?

Anyway... which Dry can claim to be the Dryest?

Some dictionary somewhere defines 'dry' as "free from liquid or moisture; lacking natural or normal moisture or depleted of water; or no longer wet; such as 'dry land'; 'dry clothes'; 'a dry climate.'"

At first glance, these beers appear to fly in the face of this definition, as they seemed to be entirely made up of liquid. Perhaps a closer inspection is required. Upon tipping each beer onto the floor, it became apparent that they were quite wet indeed.

Note: I should do these sorts of experiments outside, or at least not over my carpet.

No points are awarded to any of these beers for dryness, but one point goes to the towel which I used to mop it up with.
Score after round 1:

Super - 0

Extra - 0

Premium - 0

Towel - 1

The next part of my magic dictionary says, "humorously sarcastic or mocking; 'dry humor"; 'an ironic remark often conveys an intended meaning obliquely'; 'an ironic novel'; 'an ironical smile'; 'with a wry Scottish wit.'" I spent an hour watching Two and a Half Men and registered its humour level. I then spent an hour watching each beer and continued my vigilant note taking. It is as follows: Nothing happened.

It seems there was no irony to be found, and no sarcastic tones were included with my beer. Just in case, I also watched my towel for a while. I guess it was entertaining, but in no way was it humorous, and even less Scottish.
Score after round 2:

Super - 0

Extra - 0

Premium - 0

Towel - 1

Strangely, the next dictionary definition was "not producing milk; 'a dry cow.'" I've had milk before, and it's quite different to beer. For this experiment, I attempted to milk a beer, with no success. Each beer receives one point for being as "dry as a dry cow." Well done, beers. I then squeezed out my towel, and found that it was producing beer that it had soaked from my carpet. Nice work, towel. However, the definition definitely asks for milk. So another point to the towel.
Score after round 3:

Super - 1

Extra - 1

Premium - 1

Towel - 2

The next definition: "lacking interest or stimulation; dull and lifeless."
For this experiment, I decided to drink the beer. The first beer (Super Dry) was very nice on the tastebuds, and I guess it was interesting - there were some ingredients written on the beer label, so that kept me occupied for a minute. 5 cents refund for recycling it in South Australia. Very interesting.

After it was finished, I was stimulated to drink the Extra Dry. Again, some literature was included on the bottle; a point scored there. 5 cents back in SA as well. I should move there; I'd be rich.

After I had drank the Extra Dry, I was stimulated to keep drinking.

The Premium Dry was also quite interesting. There may have been something written on the lid, but my eyes were a bit foggy, so I'm not entirely sure. 5 cents back if you're in South Aus. That's fucking it, I'm moving there. Don't try and stop me. After I had finished the Premium Dry, I was stimulated to wrap the towel around my shoulders and 'fly' around my house. Now THAT was interesting. Then I was stimulated to fall asleep. Points all round!
Score after round 4:

Super - 2

Extra - 2

Premium - 2

Towel - 3

Conclusion:

After four rounds, it is safe to say that each beer is wetter than it is dry, with no discernible dryness-level difference between them, with few (if any) cow qualities. A towel seems to be a lot more dry. For your next pub engagement, I recommend asking for a pint of towel if you're after something dry. Otherwise, enjoy your beer the way it was intended - wet.

now who's laughing?

Like most things in life, April Fool's Day is something that sounds way more awesome than it actually is. In the past, by the time I've realised that it is April 1st, I've already left work and gone home, and just couldn't be fucked annoying anyone right now. And if someone actually ever "punked" me by taking the wheels off my car or putting pubes in my coffee mug or something, all I'd want to do is beat them with a stick or a chainsaw.

But the very notion of April Fool's Day is awesome. It's the one day of the year that you're granted a "get out of jail free" card. I say use it wisely... don't waste it on leaving your friend a message to call "Mr Lyon" and give them the number for the zoo. If you want to annoy them with a large, savage cat, steal one and starve it for a while then leave it in their bedroom. Be an arse. Arrange to meet your friend at the cinema at 8:00pm and then call them at 11:00pm and tell them that you were only joking. You could get away with a lot, in the spirit of April Fool's Day, which has somehow gone from a change of religious views to cutting your best mate's brake wire.

This year, I'm joining the cause.

Mister Evil Breakfast's Guide to April Fool's Day in the Form of a Diary (MEBGTAFDITFOAD)

April 1
7.30am: Poison friend's breakfast. This could be a dicey one, as the victim might die before I can safely point out that it's just a prank. A good alternative is to put tiny sharp pieces of metal in their cereal, and I could just watch them run around til they squirt blood.

9:00am: Prop a bucket of sulphuric acid inside manager's office so it falls on them when they open the door. Then watch as they run around, slowly dissolving.

10:30am: Meeting with George from Sales Department.

10:35am: Kill George.

10:40am: Coffee.

11:00am: Hide parts of George's body in work fridge next to everyone's lunch; label limbs with supervisor's name. Put anonymous call through to police.

11:30am: Apply for recently vacated position in Sales Department.

12:30pm: Lunch (Subway?)

12:45pm: Find someone who sponsors an African child. Take a small, starving kid to their door and inform them that the Save The Children charity has gone into liquidation and the kid is now their legal property. Also, see if they have any good CDs that I could borrow.

12:55pm: Empty cistern of work toilet. Very carefully pour a combination of nitric acid and glycerine into it. This should remain relatively stable until someone flushes, at which point a large explosion will of course ensue.

1:00pm: Emergency evacuation of work building.

3:00pm: Take a flesh-eating insect (a scarab bug springs to mind) and put it in workmate's ear when they're not paying attention. Sit back and laugh while they go insane and try to rip their own face off to stop the creature that's now devouring their brain. April Fool!

5:00pm: Take the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner, hold it over someone's eye socket and turn it on. They will now have the tedious task of retrieving their eyeball from the vacuum bag, which will be covered in hair and dust, making it pretty useless.

5:30pm: Shops (bread, cheese-spread, beef jerky, Iced Vovos).

5:45pm: Break into next door neighbour's house and get rid of his computer and tv and washing machine and everything electrical. Hang an 1874 calendar on his wall and spread around some "Wanted" posters & really old copies of Cosmo so when he comes home he'll think that he has travelled backwards through time. Wearing cowboy boots and a hat, knock on the door (don't forget to say "Pard'ner") and explain that it's 1874 and his wife, family and friends from 2009 haven't even been born yet, and his expertise in computer engineering is absolutely useless. Upon hearing this, he should run to the nearest window and jump, but I may need to give him a little push just in case.

6:30pm: Dinner (and Neighbours)

7:15pm: Wash clothes.

8:00pm: Hang out clothes.

8:10pm: Get some help to dig up my friend's house from its foundations, then drive away with it. Note: Make sure friend is chasing the house when it's driven over the edge of a cliff. Then run up to them and yell "April Fool's!"

9:00pm: Return DVDs to Blockbuster.

9:15pm: Exhume the body of a friend's deceased relative, and hang it outside their bedroom window. Note: this can be especially hard if the body is particularly rotten, so nail-gunning parts of the body together might be a wise solution.

10:00pm: Give friend a lot of sleeping pills, but not enough to kill them. When they are in a deep sleep, get a chainsaw, cut off both their hands and ears, swap them and sew them back on before all the blood drains out - laying down newspaper beforehand is probably a good idea. When they come to, I will yell, "Talk to the hand!" at them. This should be funny for the rest of their life.

10:40pm: Tail someone whilst driving and start shooting at them. Note: Aim for the tyres as they turn, which should cause the car to flip. This will total their vehicle and seriously injure the driver, allowing me to end the chase and explain (before they lose consciousness/die) that it's just an April Fool's joke.

11:00pm: Break into friend's house (note: wear soft shoes). Pour a generous line of petrol around their bed while they're sleeping, then light it and stand well back. Set their alarm clock for 11:15 just in case the noise of their house burning down doesn't wake them.

11:30pm: Letterman (+ cup of tea and Iced Vovos)

you're gonna be a star (all the way to reno)

Whenever I meet someone new, at a party, or a dinner, or a dinner party for example, inevitably the conversation will head towards, "So... what do you do?" And when I tell them about my boring-ass job and how I'm not a huge fan of doing it, they tell me that I should quit my job and follow my dreams. "Work to live, don't live to work! Make work your passion and you will never work again!" they'll say, and possibly give me the 'stink-eye' because I, you know, hold down a 9-5 job. Sorry champ, but unlike you, I can't pay rent with mottos, fill my fridge with sunshine and get drunk on my own non-conforming ways.

Do what I'm good at? Make a career out of my passion? Stabbing hippies fits both of those categories. Pass me your butter knife, pally-boy.

Here's a list of other (non-violent) things that I am good at:

Taping songs off the radio

I was seriously awesome at being able to avoid the DJ's back-announce while I was creating the perfect mix tape to listen to in Year 10 maths. There is a skill, my friends, in capturing the intro and the complete fade-out of a song on the radio and not have some spazzo ruin it with his spiel about the Countdown being brought to you by a mattress company. Of course, now that you can burn CDs and download any song you want for free, this art form has been somewhat lost. I mean, I could still do it by holding up my MP4 recorder to my computer while I'm streaming the local radio station, but it's just not really the same, is it? Also, I have no idea what an MP4 is.

Liking movies for no reason

I hate movies for a million reasons. Plot, acting, shit characters, boom microphones being caught in frame... but I also have a terrible habit of liking movies for no apparent reason. A friend asked me which version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory I preferred - the old Gene Wilder musical one, or the new Johnny Depp-Tim Burton effort. My answer was the new one. He asked why. After stuttering for a while, I told him that I had to go and see a man about a goat and never got around to explaining myself. About a year later, I still don't know why I prefer the new one. There's a lot NOT to like about it, such as the scenes where Charlie and Wonka go to visit Wonka's dad to try and resolve the family tension. This rates as probably the worst movie scene ever (possibly except for all of Transformers). But then, I didn't rate the scene in the original where Charlie dances like a dick and sings his songs with his oldies; it annoys me like an octopus with tinea. I just liked the new one better; I really don't have an answer why. I'll just say that I thought Depp played Wonka closer to the character in the book, and Gene Wilder fucking scared me. So there you go, Azz. (Oh, and thanks for the vid of the fat kid! Happy new year to ye!)

Picking songs that people are singing in their car

Whenever I stop at a red light, I can't help looking at the people in the cars next to me. Some are deadly serious, eyes straight ahead and ready for the green light, others fiddle with stuff in the back seat or glovebox, some are having a good ol' dig around in their nose. Most, however, are tapping away and singing to whatever they're listening to on their stereo. Back in the day when most cars only had a tape player (at best), people would bop away to songs on the radio; and I would make it a mission to join them. A few quick spins of the trusty tuning knob (and then I’d change the radio station) and I was on their wavelength and I’d be able to provide back-up for them or take over the drums so they'd be able to concentrate on hitting the high notes. And then we'd join together for a guitar solo. Obviously this has the tendency to make a lot of people a bit self-conscious (and a few times downright violent), but on the whole, it was appreciated. As far as I know, I was the only mobile one-man-red-light-band in the world.

Working out mobile phone numbers

You know when you give someone your number, and you ask for theirs in return, and they take the quick option and call you so your phone has a record of the number? It comes up with the international code in place of the 04blahblah numbers. Down the track, someone might say, "Hey man, do you have Hambone's phone number?" And you'd flip through your phone and say, "Yes. It's... uuuh... 61... 44... no wait. That doesn't make any sense." And then your brain would start to melt because you can't work out how many digits this stupid number is meant to contain. And in the end, no-one gets Hambone's number. Poor Hambone.

I am excellent at doing it, however. So if someone asks you for a number and you can't work it out, give me a bell on +61414934286 and I'll come and give you a hand.


Having a dream and ambition is fine - I've got mine (they usually involve crowbars) and you've got yours. But we can't all be rock stars, or there'd be no-one left to listen. If everyone was writing books, there'd be no-one reading them. We can't all make a living of taping Rick Dee's Weekly Top 40 show for a tape to listen to in Year 10 maths, or there'd be no-one left to work in the tape-making factory. And let's face it, after a few years of being a professional mobile one-man-red-light-band, I'd probably start wondering if it would be possible to sit in an office and write reports and file papers as a job.

And for the record, it's not really that hard to do the mobile phone number thing. Just work backwards if you get stuck.

Things that are just tops

this isn't going to be a pansy arsed list of things that make you feel all warm and fuzzy, like being told "i love you" when you've had a shit day, nor is it a list of things that are just brilliant, like blow jobs. it's just a list of cool shit.

• waking up in the morning (read: afternoon) after a night out on the piss, heading down to mcdonalds and finding a $20 in your pocket that you didn't think you had - otherwise you would've spent it on more beer and a kebab that you probably would have chucked up anyway.
• waking up in the morning (read: afternoon) after a night out on the piss, checking your phone and realising that you didn't make any calls or send any texts to your ex girlfriend.
• waking up and having just enough milk to make a coffee.
• seeing the price of petrol at $1.00 a litre and thinking, "that's cheap", but forgetting to fill up until the next day and the price is still $1.00 a litre.
• X-Men
• free tea and coffee at the Southern Cross Club (for members and invited guests)
• Finding 40 cents in the back seat of your car when you're leaving the multi-storey
• A desk job and the Internet. Fucking gold, man.
• the film clip to Shiny Happy People
• Steak. Medium rare. With fries, vegetables and pepper sauce.
• Carlton Draught (twice as good when had with the above)
• Cricket that starts at 11:00am on a Saturday, so you can literally crawl from your bed to the couch and not miss a single ball.
• CD singles with a cool b-side or cover song
• coming to the end of a list