Sunday, April 4, 2010

Cooler than a polar bears toe nails

Fellow mouth breathers,

Im gonna make a post soon, like a real one, with words and pictures and funny in it.

Also, I am in no way drunk right now.

One of these statements is true. The other.......... slightly more false than the first.

You decide.


Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Tagadella Nights: The Ballad of My Boredom

I've been given a right tagging by Ellen, pulling me away from the depressing spiral of uni work that I was falling into. Away we goooooooooo

What is your current obsession?
Watching TV shows online. Its mostly what I do whenever I get a break from uni work. Im currently up to Season 4 of Scrubs, season 2 of South Park and season 5 of Entourage.

What are you wearing now?
A white polo, dark blue jeans and white socks, annnnnd grey jocks.

Do you nap a lot?
NEVER! I find it merely makes me more tired when I wake up.

What is on your desk?
Ditto on the "so much shit". My computer and various related paraphernalia, my phone, my cd player, two blue pens, a mouse pad, a small stack of dvds, two Dan Brown books, a tiny calendar, a remote for something, two stacks of blank cds (nearly empty), a calculator (lol maths), and my old pencil case, still filled with everything it had in it the day I finished Year 12 oh and more pens.

What would you like to learn to do?
Play the drums. For real, not just Rock Band style. Its been my secret dream ever since I was a little girl. In my eyes, that would be the ultimate shit. Being a DJ would be pretty sweet too, though Id be lame at it. Problem = drum kit costs the monies, as do turntables.

What’s for dinner?
Chicken stir-fry. How very unexciting.

What was the last thing you bought?
Lunch, I had a foot-long chicken fillet on Italian, with cheddar cheese, lettuce, carrot and capsicum and BBQ sauce. Yeah I went to subway.

What is your favorite weather?
About 25 degrees, fine and partly cloudy, with a nice breeze and a light early evening shower.

What is on your bedside table?
A lamp, clock radio, electric toothbrush, ipod, and Michal Moore's Dude Where's My Country?

What’s your style?
If I hadnt read Ellen's answer Id have had no idea this was referring to clothing. Uh I wear clothes. Jeans or black shorts, and I realised that despite having many coloured shirts, pretty much 95% of the ones I actually wear are all white. Subconscious racism? I think so.

What is your most challenging goal right now?
Motivating myself to do uni work instead of watching tv, listenign to music and journeying through the many paths of the internet. Currently failing at this, hence the challenging part.

If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where do you want it to be?
LA baby, so I can hobnob with the celebs and the bigwigs.
As for retirement, Canada.

What would you like to have in your hands right now?
Keys to my own car, a PS3 controller, or a winning lottery ticket.

What would you like to get rid of?
Uni, except then I'd have to have a real job, so how about responsibility in general. Man would that be nice or what?

What languages can you speak?
English, 1337.

What language(s) do you want to be able to speak?
All of them. Italian would be pretty badass.

What do you want to be when you grow up?
A motherfucking pokemon trainer, I thought I made this clear already before.

What's one thing you're looking forward to?
This weekend, which will be filled with drinking and debauchery, and thats just at the Knights game. The parties will involve similar acts.

Favourite memory of the last week?
Seeing Monsters vs Aliens at the staff screening. Go see that shit! Best/funniest animated kids film since Monsters Inc. A great voice cast and characters, hilarious kids jokes as well as plenty of jokes only the grown-ups will get, plus even more that only the cultured (i.e. yours truly) will appreciate. It even tugs at the heart strings a little bit.

What websites you visit constantly during the day?
Facebook, gamefaqs, bom, youtube, nrl, news, wikipedia, cracked, cyanide and happiness, gamesradar, tvtropes and surfthechannel. Thats pretty much my favourites list.

If you were to pick up a pen right now, what would be the first thing you'd write?
If youre reading this, know that Im thinking of you and touching myself.

And we're out.

- Chris

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Dedication vs Procrastination: The Epic Struggle

Loyal fans (I have no doubt there are legions upon eager legions of you) I must apologise on behalf of myself and my partner in rhyme Katey, for we have left you unfulfilled, malnourished and no doubt sexually frustrated in the wake of our lengthy absence from the blogosphere.

I would like to blame this neglect on our university degrees which we are currently chained to like submissive gimps to a latex adorned dominatrix however there is another more overbearing and fundamental reason which I pray you can forgive us for...

My friends I am speaking, of course, of laziness. And it is the harshest mistress of all.

Only In Australia

Until next time, stay sexy and whatever you do DONT EAT ANY BROCCOLI!

- Chris

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Legend of Tagger Vance

I've been double-tagged by Ellen and Katey! Is this a bad thing like being double-crossed? Or is it more of a good thing, like one of those "threesomes" I've heard so much about...

Four Places I Go Over And Over:

* Uni - as of today, it is once again my second home. The place where my dreams go to die... or at least lay dormant while i learn about international strategic management and use big boy words like ethnocentrism.

* Greater Union - where I watch 2 minute intervals of 8 different movies at a time whilst pretending to work and never actually seeing an entire film. We also have Sega Rally.

* Winner's Circle - for all your gambling and free alcoholic needs

* The Speirs Residence - Xbox + Rock Band = the awakening of the totally badass drummer, nay, god of rock, that lay dormant within me

Four People Who Email Me Regularly:

I am not even popular enough to receive automated mail from mindless marketing systems, let alone real people so...

* George W. Bush - you think he wrote all those amazing speeches alone?

* Clifford the Big Red Dog - always recounting his latest hilarious mishap resulting from his obscene size, weight and redness

* My old pen pal - someday I'll write you back Osama...


Four Favourite Smells:

* Hugo Boss man perfume - trust me, I smell amazing

* Everything after it rains

* Cinnamon

* Bakeries

Four Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:

Canada - just me and my best friend - my polar bear Franklin

* New York City - a penthouse, an open bar, and 50 of the coolest motherfuckers I know.

* Straight floating on a boat on the deep blue sea

* In the actual Pokemon universe, embarking on my very own Pokemon journey......FUCK YES

Four TV Shows I Watch:

* Scrubs - hilarity in a 20 min package

* How I Met Your Mother - see above

* Beauty and the Geek - math excites me

* South Park - brilliance embodied in a cartoon



Thursday, February 19, 2009

Wiley: One letter of difference = Infinitely more talented.

Brace yourselves blog fans, for I have shocking, and frankly disgusting, news.

One of the music world's most celebrated talents, a performer who has been like a pillar of strength, bearing the weight of the musical dreams of generations of aspiring guitar-owning hippies and thrash metal enthusiasts alike, who stood up for the little man when the suits at the National Academy for Recording Arts and Sciences started giving Grammys to people like Lil' Wayne and Bono, has tarnished their previously impeccable reputation in a singular moment of miscalculation.

This shouldn't happen.

Ok scratch that. It was Miley Cyrus, and she's been a vapid, plastic, money-sucking whore ever since she was birthed in the testicles of her musically defective father Billy Ray.

But enough with the pleasantries.

It recently came to my attention that Miss Cyrus ostracised many of her young fans (read: brainwashed zombie pre-teens), the media and various special interest groups in the latest in a string of offences that seem to indicate that, despite it being in her best interest, she clearly doesnt want her budding career to last longer than the typical pop starlet's (i.e. about as long as it takes them to discover the sweet bliss of crack cocaine).

"But Chris!" you cry at your computer screen. "Surely youre not that stretched for ideas that youre speaking of events that transpired weeks and even months ago?! EVERYONE has already blogged about the infamous Vanity Fair child-porn photo shoot, and the internet has been ablaze for weeks with talk of Miley offending oh ONLY AROUND ONE THIRD OF THE WORLD'S POPULATION with her "Asian face"."

"So then I was all like "I NO SPEAKA DA ENGRISH""

"No, internet" I reply as I sit firmly astride my high horse. I speak of a more recent incident, in which Miley outraged her diehard fans by forgetting the lyrics to her latest song "Fly on the Wall" at a concert in the UK. A concert that her record company paid $320 000 to fly her too.

Now I understand that this sometimes happens. And I understand that Miley must have a hard time keeping her thoughts and memory in check, what with spending half of her waking life thinking she is actually Hannah Monatana: Superslut. But I mean come on, take a look at this sample of the lyrics in question:

You'd love to know the things I do
When I'm with my friends and not with you
You always second guess, wonderin'
If there's other guys I'm flirtin' with
You should know by now

Its not exactly a Shakespearean sonnet. Then theres this:

Don't ya, don't ya
Don't ya, don't ya

Wish you were a?


Nonexistent sentence structure and the fact that its completely nonsensical aside, its pretty profound stuff.

Such a slip of the mind could normally be forgiven, but for $320 000? I leave you with a small list of things that the $320 000 jet fee could have been better spent on:

- 320 000 pies from local vendor Darby's*
- The ransom for a German immigrant kidnapped in Israel
- A 1 Bed/1 Bath condo in Seattle
- A Rolls Royce Phantom
- A Hong Kong licence plate, number 2318

This guy HATES Miley Cyrus.

All of those things would benefit the world (though to be fair, the majority of the benefits would be reaped by me alone) more than a 16 year old with split personalities robbing innocent people of their hard earned money to see her dance around on a stage entirely too provocatively for someone that ugly, leaching off of her father's undeserved and short-lived fame.

That reminds me, one more use for the money:

- A hitman to have Cyrus taken the fuck out, to soothe the eardrums of the world. And her father too while theyre at it. Why?

Because fuck Achey Breaky Heart, thats why.

- Chris

*Disclaimer: All of these things actually cost $320 000, Im just too lazy to link proof.

A conspiracy theory to rock your nether-regions.

There are a lot of things Grandma's are good for; knitting shit, baking shit, mending shit, and generally talking to you about all of the above. The last time i sat down with my Grandma over a dainty cup of Lady Grey however, I didn't expect that she would wow me with a conspiracy theory regarding the gender of one of the nation's most beloved celebrities. Out of the blue she started telling me about her very reliable source so and so who ASSURES her that Nicole Kidman was born a Hermaphrodite. I was intrigued, took another biscuit, and listened closely.

Dear ole Grandma it turns out, has the sweet connections, and knows a lady who was once a midwife, who claims to have been present at the birth of Nicole, who we shall now refer to by her gender non-specific name, 'Nick'. According to this lady, whose identity i will protect for fear of a resounding scandal.. 'Midwife McGee' if you will, Nick was born an 'it'. A she-male. A veritable earthworm of A-sexual astoundment.

As i dipped my sweet biscuit into my milky cup of love, i pondered on the credibility of such an accusation. Sure, Nick may be hailed by some as the embodiment of feminine grace and beauty, but hell, would you tap that? Didn't think so.

Let's break it down.

If Nicole is in fact Nick-with-a-dick, there would surely be some indications of this gender confusion, some clues as to the messed-up nature of mother nature's mess. Wait, woah, hold-up there, now that i think about it, there are some pretty ambiguous aspects of Nick's physical form.

Check it out:

There is only so much that make-up can hide, even when you are wearing enough to be able to have someone's initials carved into your face... To me, that jaw-line spells 'awkward amounts of testosterone for a lady', and we all know how flat-chested poor Nick used to be before her reputed enhancements. Let's not forget about her rake-like physique, enormous tootsies and general aura of androgyny.

Also, this theory would explain why her acting is so terrible...most of the time she is on set, she is probably pre-occupied by thoughts of 'holy shit am I a man or a woman?', or similar.

The most resounding evidence however to support the notion that Nick is indeed a confused lady-boy, is her choice of life-partners (we will call them that to keep this PC). Any sane woman, fueled by a healthy dose of Oestrogen would never be attracted to 'men' in the vein of Tom Cruise and Keith Urban. It is clearly biological, the 'a' enzyme does not lock in with the 'b' enzyme; they emit sour, off-putting pheremones; there is a weak, wussy, girlishness about these guys that screams 'DO NOT PROCREATE WITH ME!'. Yet Nick in her confused state, managed to single out not merely one, but two of these hideous phenomenons, IN A ROW. Tom then Keith. A horrible union of scrambled genitals on both accounts.

Need a visual?

(No photoshop needed)....

Compelling evidence, irrefutable arguments, SCIENTIFIC PROOF.

And to put the icing on this gender neutral cake, Nick's last name is a secret clue to her alternate existence... kidMAN. She was a MAN when she was a KID. Or perhaps, 'we KID you not, she is actually a MAN'. Either way, it must have been some kind of secret codename given to her by the Australian secret services at her time of birth, so only those savvy to the language would recognise her true identity. Now you are one of those people...decide what you will.

Great story Grandma!

- Katey

Sunday, February 15, 2009

An homage to Sir Willis

In life, we sometimes find ourselves floundering in places and situations seemingly out of our control; a crowded airport, a bustling subway, a towering inferno of death and destruction. It is common at these times for one to fall in a pathetic snivelling heap of despair and desperation, calling upon some higher power to relieve the pain, the suffering.

The truth is, the world has gone soft. We have become a sticky conglomerate of all things weak and spineless. World Peace? LAME. Abolition of Captial Punishment? LAME. Man up world, take a lesson from a god amongst men, a badass enforcer of all things hard and gritty. Throw away your rose-coloured dieties, it's time to set your feeble value systems alight. So the next time you find yourself holed up in a schoolyard hostage situation, don't look to God, instead ask WHAT WOULD BRUCE WILLIS DO? Because we all know that whatever he did, it would be explosive, it would show scant regard for collateral damage, and it would be finished with an epic one-liner to make that baddy die just a little bit harder.

For inspiration, i have included a random sample of Mr Willis' many filmic triumphs. Please take note of the precise way in which Bruce fashions scorn lines around the mouth, and intense furrows of concentration above the eyes. These are two vital ingredients in the spicy laksa that is the Willis personality.

If you are feeling a little dejected by the prospect of a life filled with penetrating stares and pungent masculinity, don't despair, as Bruce shows us that it's ok to sometimes goof around, and crack that weathered face into a steely smile.

Feeling tougher already? You should be, because the next time you go down the street to buy a pistachio gelato you may well walk straight into the middle of a siege, a terrorist plot, or a heist of some sinister description.

I often find it worthwhile to meditate, but not the pussy kind that is all baggy pants and dolphins and gongs. Take time to find your inner John McClane, channel the spirit of violence that has become hidden beneath a flimsy veneer of unity. Promote the betterment of your mind by only thinking of naked women, cigars, and the nearest points of exit and entry in whatever establishment you may find yourself in, in the event of an invasion.

I will leave you now, not with any profound snippets of my own, but with some B.W quotes for your own personal contemplation.

- Katey

*Let me ask you something Carmine. What sets off the metal detector first? The lead in your ass, or the shit in your brain?
*Look, lady I only speak two languages: English and Bad English!
*[As he pushes a chair loaded with plastic explosives into the elevator shaft] Geronimo, motherfucker!
*That's gonna wake the neighbours.