I don't know if you guys do the same thing, but each Christmas I round up all the little kids in my extended family and read them 'The Night Before Christmas' by Clement Clarke Moore. Of course, if you've read or heard the classic tale, you'll probably know it's a little bit out of date. Today's kids are a little harder to win over, so when I read it, I update it a little. Only a tiny bit, just enough to make it modern without ruining the heart of the story.

I recorded it, if anybody is interested. It's a nice thing to play to the little tackers. Hope you like it too.

Download the mp3 here or the .zip here.

Everyone makes typos when they penis write, it's human. Of course, sometimes typos are really funny. Like when juries spell the word innocent 'guilty'. Or when the Federal Treasury includes a typo that says 'wages will now fall' instead of 'wages will not fall' in a document released to prove that wages for lower-income earners won't fall. God, it's so ironic Alanis Morisette just had a hands-free orgasm.

Which leads me to the next bit. No, it's not about Alanis Morisette fudding herself, it's about a typo. Of massive proportions. TIME Magazine (of which I am a subscriber) just released its annual 'Person of the Year' issue (I like mentioning how I subscribe to TIME so people think I'm smart). And just like the last two out of three years. (Ok, I just buy it for the photos of the naked African chicks), they have pussied out and chosen more than one person for their Person of the Year Edition (wait, that's why I subscribe to National Geographic. Why the fuck am I subscribed to TIME?).

Not the first time Bono has come between Bill and Melinda Gates

This year, it's Microsoft owner and international playboy Bill Gates and his wife Melinda , and U2 frontman Boner Bono. Apparently it's for their work "giving to the poor" and "reducing third-world debt" and Bono's promise never to sing that piece of shit "Vertigo" song ever again. Previous years when TIME's editors were being indecisive pussies included 2002, when the female whistleblowers who uncovered scandals at Enron, Worldcom and the FBI picked up the gong, and 2003, when it was given to the American Soldiers, who then proceeded to stack it on top of a human pyramid.

I liked the good old days, when TIME was run by people with balls (or is that 'Persons with balls') who weren't afraid to choose Hitler (1938) or Stalin (1939, 1942). And what's the go with 'Persons' anyway? It's 'PEOPLE'. Christ. They should have listened to me and avoided this whole mess. Then the TRUE Person of the Year would receive the recognition he deserved.

Well, summer is well and truly underway, and so is the television non-ratings season. Which means we're going to be spoonfed a whole bunch of crap on free-to-air TV until February. As a media graduate (hopefully), I feel it is my responsibility, nay, my DUTY to guide you through the torrent of turds that is summer television. So, without further ado..

Tommy's Guide To Summer Television

Shit Shows

- Ghost Whisperer
- Surface
- King of Queens
- Stacked
- Tommy Lee Goes To College
- Headland
- Smallville
- 5ive Days To Midnight
- Charmed
- Third Watch
- The Bachelor V
- Empire
- Blind Justice
- The Secret Life of Us
- Boston Legal
- Australia's Funniest Home Videos Summer Series
- Growing Up Gotti
- Joey
- Veronica Mars
- Two And A Half Men
- Dragon's Den
- Sports Disasters
- Less Than Perfect
- Heartbeat
- World's Craziest Videos
- World's Wildest Weather
- Threshold
- Wife Swap
- Beat The Chef
- Grounded For Life
- Sabrina, The Teenage Witch
- Will & Grace
- Midsomer Murders
- Quincy, M.E



Good Shows

- Family Guy




I hope you find this guide useful

Love,


Tommy

Shit Hits The Fan In Cronulla and maroubra and brighton

The violence yesterday wasn't confined to males in the crowd. Several females were involved in fights, including 16 year-old Cronulla girls Samantha and Emma. "I hate the Lebs. Today I punched one fat girl in the face. We just want them off our beaches," Samantha said.

- The Daily Telegraph, Monday 12 December, pg. 21

I think that about sums up the stupidity of yesterday's riots. Lebanese gangs are a massive social and criminal problem in Sydney's suburbs. What happened to the two lifesavers last week was a disgrace, but 5000 drunk, redneck vigilantes is not the solution. The fact that I can figure this out sitting behind a computer in Baulkham Hills, having watched twenty minutes of footage on the news, yet there exists people who TRAVELLED from Castle Hill to Cronulla to 'defend the Shire' is mind-boggling.

I thik we all just have to accept that there are always fuckheads. Lebanese fuckheads who form gangs. Aussie fuckheads who think the best way to stop Lebanese gangs harrassing their chicks on the beach is to assault an Arab on a train. Ignorant politically correct fuckheads who scream 'racism' when cops try to do their jobs. The even more ignorant xenophobic fuckheads who think anybody from Lebanon or Syria or Turkey is going to rape their daughters and blow up their football stadiums. Fuckheads the lot of them. It's a fuckhead infestation of fuckheadian proportions.

I said Garlic sauce on my Kebab, not fuckin Hommus!@

And then there's the media. Channel Nine News last night blamed talkback radio for inciting much of the violence. True, talkback radio is the home of the racist fuckhead, but I have a crazy hunch that the thousands of young Shire guys aren''t exactly cranking John Laws or Alan Jones before their morning surf.

But they might be reading the Telegraph. And watching Nine News. Seeing and reading journalists and producers desperate to sensationalise anything they can get their hands on. Just ask John Brogden.

It's not a battle between the Shire Boys and the Wogs. It's definitely not a battle between the Bra Boys from Maroubra and the Bankstown Boys from Wogland. It's a battle between normal, rational people and the fuckheads from both sides. It won't be solved by getting a dozen of your closest mates and beating up a Middle-Eastern looking guy, or by playing 'Smash The Skippy' with your cousins, but with...

uhh...

umm..

I have no idea.

um..

Maybe pancakes can solve it. I don't know, I'm not a doctor. All I know is that violence begats violence, and what happened yesterday in Cronulla is going to happen again in Bankstown, and Cabramatta, and Parramatta, and Winston Hills, and Baulkham Hills and ohshit.

Oh shit.

GO HOME LEBS

AUSTRALIA IS FULL FUCK OFF

The Real Schapelle

Well, the Schapelle Corby saga has taken an interesting twist, with a joint South Australian-Queensland police operation uncovering photos of Corby with an alleged drug dealer, taken before her ill-fated trip to Bali.

As I am gifted with an innate talent for journalism and uncovering the truth, I decided to do a little investigation of my own.

I was absolutely shocked at what I discovered. For you see, Schapelle Corby is not the woman you think she is. Turns out, Schapelle has popped up in photographs with a whole bunch of unsavoury types. We'll do this chronologically.

Berlin, 1939. World War Two is underway, and Adolf Hitler's Germany looks set to steamroll through Europe. But, like all Europeans, Hitler pauses for a spot of tea. He does so with a mysterious woman, whose identity has been unknown.

Until now.


After the fall of Hitler's Third Reich, Corby escaped capture by an Allied task force led by Captain Ronald Spiers, smuggling herself into Asia. Corby led a life of solitude in the mountains of Afghanistan for decades, before falling in love with a young mujahadeen. The two became not just husband and wife, but the figureheads of the Afghan resistance, fighting the Russian invasion during the 1980's. The name of this young mujahadeen?

Osama Bin Laden.

Don't believe me? Here's a photo of Corby, husband Osama, and an international terrorist known only as 'The Tea Toweler', taken by an undercover CNN reporter in 1994.



But Corby's depravity doesn't end there. This temptress of terror, this diva of depravity, this wordforfemale of adjectivethatmeansevil would soon leave her husband Osama following the September 11th attacks. According to sources inside the Taliban, Corby felt the attacks were 'bush league', and returned to her home country of Australia to find a partner who could unleash the widespread destruction she so desired.

After her dreams of global terror and misery failed to materialise with Adolf and Osama, Corby thought they were just that - dreams.

Until she met an unlikely couple.

Corby wasn't interested in the sex. It was good, but it wasn't the reason she stayed. In Australia, Corby found two men who had the power to realise her dreams of destruction. However, a fact-finding mission to Bali, where Corby was meant to scout out potential targets for carpet-bombing, ended with her arrest. Her dreams were shattered.

According to sources inside Corby's cell-block, she spends hours staring at a single photo on her wall, day after day. Corby doesn't speak often of the photo, or the two men she is with. But her tear-filled eyes reveal that after decades of searching, Schapelle Corby finally found her soulmates.


God speed, Schapelle.

God speed.

SOCKO VS SOCKO

There's a reason my blog is socko.blogspot.com rather than the obvious tommyfuckinlegend.blogspot.com, because the name 'SOCKO' and I have a long and storied history. Back in 1999, when I was an even bigger dork, I used to play games like Quake and Counter-Strike (until all the Koreans started playing at least) under the name of SOCKO, which I ripped off WWF Superstar and legend Mick 'Mankind' Foley, who used to carry a sock puppet to the ring named - you guessed it - SOCKO.

And I figured I'd staked out a nice claim as SOCKO. Until I was alerted to the presence of this.

http://socko.schwoit.com


Yes, it's "SOCKOS SPOT" (notice the lack of punctuation - a clear sign of a name stealer)

Now only does this "Socko" steal my cool internet pseudonym, but she also steals my interests. Read the blog. This bitch likes NRL and Professional Wrestling - all she needs is a tattoo of Latham on her left arse cheek and a wide variety of veneral diseases and she is the female Tommy. Hell, she probably even looks like me.


See?! It's UNCANNY.

Normally when I review other blogs, I go into long-winded tangents, full of insulting paragraphs and harsh personal attacks. But I can't do it. Not to Socko. Not to my soulmate. Not to her beautiful triple chins.

I couldn't bag out her inviting Picture Gallery.

Or the picture of her and her husband 'Shadowknight'. Her husband 'Shadowknight'. Her husband Shadowknight.

(paragraph format copyright Matthew Reilly 2005)

Or even the picture of 'The Cupcake She Almost Lost'. From the looks of her other pics, I'm going to imagine losing a cupcake is a first for her.

NO. I didn't mean that. Socko, I'm sorry. I shouldn't say those things. Especially about your ugly baby. Or the child who you've forced to hold a whiteboard containing a message he obviously didn't write.



God this makes me so angry, but I can't do it. I can't insult a fellow Socko.

So I'll just let Matt do it.

The saddest part of this image is knowing that mankind is now being scourged once again with more sub-humans from this outcast of the gene pool. I mean, the kid's head looks like it has had a third story built on top of it, he can't even focus on a fucking camera lens, and he's being forced to hold a whiteboard with a message written in a handwriting so far out of the range of a three year old as to be ridiculous. So, either this is some sort of mutant adult or an easily manipulated child ensnared by this buttertroll; either way, he'd better hope that Bobbie is some sort of euthanasia practicioner and he's buttering him up to just make the misery stop.

Take that, person who stole my internet name. That will teach you to mess with the real Socko.


Damn I am cool.

The Little Differences

A sit-down chat with Prof. Matt Sampson.

Recently my good friend and loose acquaintance, Matt Sampson, left for a three month sojourn in Europe without so much as a ‘goodbye’, more of an elaborate hoax to make people think he was entered onto an international version of MTV’s ‘The Real World’. Be that as it may, I deemed it necessary to find time between my busy quitting-Subway and becoming-aroused-by-small-animals schedule to sit down with Matt and find out exactly what went down, dawg.

Tommy: So tell me again about the hostel bars?

Matt: Well what do you want to know?

Tommy: Well getting trashed is legal there, right?

Matt: Well, I mean, it’s legal, but it ain’t 100% legal. I mean, you can’t just walk into a restaurant, mainline some absinthe and start tripping balls. They want you to have a few beers first, maybe meet some deceptively underage women, do karaoke in languages you’ve never heard of before, get lost in a Red Light District, steal things from town halls, go swimming in a loch, climb on public monuments, things like that.

Tommy: And that’s what you do in Europe, right?

Matt: OK, it breaks down like this. It’s legal to buy booze in supermarkets, it’s legal to drink it almost anywhere, and if you’re the proprietor of a bar, it’s legal to sell it to pretty much anyone, regardless of age, gender or ability to stand up straight. It’s illegal to steal it, but that doesn’t matter, cause if you get stopped by a cop in Europe, chances are you’ll be so high you won’t notice you’re in jail till the week after anyways.

Tommy: That’s it, man – I’m fuckin’ going, that’s all there is to it, I’m fuckin’ going.

Matt: I know, baby, you’ll dig it the most. But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?

Tommy: What?

It’s the little differences.

Tommy and Matt conducted most of this interview in their Chevy, then realised they should have shotguns for this kind of deal.

It’s been about two weeks since I returned from an alcohol-soaked, party-centric Eurotrek through the western countries of Europe, in which I hit more than twenty-five cities and did irreparable damage to my liver, brain and international reputation. Anyone who tells you to go over there and get a job either hasn’t been there, doesn’t know what they’re talking about, or just plain fucking hates you. Your first trip to Europe should undoubtedly be purely for the experience, and then forgetting all about the experience through dangerous levels of alcohol consumption.

If you don’t have any friends who want to go with you (or just don’t have any friends at all), don’t worry about it, travelling on your own is a terrific experience, provided you’re not a nineteen year old girl who wandered into my hostel room at three in the morning and now has to spend the rest of her life in therapy. If you have a few buddies that are willing to drink with you till you can’t feel feelings anymore, all the better, it’s great to have someone to bail you out of a Belgian prison for attending a film festival party and ordering a round for all your newly found Europals, only to find out later that the beers weren’t free and you’re now being asked for more than 200 euros which you can’t cover because you spent your last cash on an overweight hooker with facial hair named Bettina. Quick useful fact, Gent is about half an hour west of Brussels and has a fantastic Red Light District.

Gent brothels are some of the cheapest and most mind-scarringly terrifying in the known universe.

People often ask me what I miss most about Europe. Is it the freedom, the culture, the people? No. Quite simply, it’s two things:

• Kebab shops in every European city, on nearly every street. And I ain’t even kidding you. Every city you go to in Western Europe has kebab shops, and if you’re in an area that has one, chances are you could see four others whilst standing in its doorway. The areas of Paris, for example that have, shall we say, more terrorist-oriented races populating them, can have five or six kebab shops right next door to each other, followed by five or six houses to give the kebab shop owners shelter (as if their body hair, odour and seemingly never ending grease secretions were insufficient), and that will make up the entirety of the street. To the French zoning commissioners, that’s a useful way to allocate the space. Residential, Commercial, Industrial and Kebab. No wonder we still don’t have a cure for cancer.

• Nudity in advertising. The last, and most powerful of the European Intoxication Trifecta. It doesn’t matter what the fuck those Euros are selling, be it shoes, condoms, deodorant or children’s schools, there’s going to be a girl on a billboard with her tits out. It’s the kind of thing that actually numbs you to a state where you only notice when someone’s fully clothed, and will say to the person unlucky enough to be next to you, ‘My word,’ at which point your monocle should pop out, ‘that chick has got her tits in! I haven’t actually seen a bra since I left home! And that was on my father!’ Oh that’s right, kids, they were disturbing times.

If you put these two things together, you basically have hot, greasy, delicious food and boobs everywhere you look. What, I ask you, could more accurately fulfil a man’s desires? Add to that getting trashed every night and being surrounded by women who think the Australian accent is the hottest thing since Orlando Bloom’s last piece of homoerotic celluloid, and that’s a recipe for shenanigans. Just take this email which I recently had the pleasure to send to our head honcho:

Mr Howard was very pleased to receive my letter and his puppet friend, Mr Costello, read it with him.

> Original Message Follows

> To: Mr Sheen <johnhoward@australiangovernment.com.au>
> From : Matt 'Eurotrash' Sampson <mitsarensen@pseudonyms.com>

---

Dear Mr Howard,

My name is Matt Sampson, I have been an Australian citizen for all of my 21 years but have currently just returned from holidays in Europe. I am writing to you, sir, for a matter I consider of the utmost importance. Although I am aware Australia has intelligence agencies that are monitoring situations around the globe, I believe they have overlooked a crucial fact that is crippling our nation as you read this. I am, quite simply, shocked that no member of your cabinet is either aware of this or has thought to bring this to your attention:

Swiss women are the goddamn hottest women in the world

No, seriously. I didn't know this either. I got there and was shocked. I think you know where I'm going with this, sir, as you are as intelligent and thorough as I am. Almost. As you already know, in light of this new information, we must immediately withdraw all forces from Iraq and other hotspots around the globe, combine them with forces currently stationed in Australia and the ever-useful-and-deadly Army Reserve, and redeploy them to the new Swiss Front so that we may capture these women and return them to Australian soil where we all know they truly belong. Of course, we must do some research first, such as working out how the hell Swiss men get anything done around here, but it is crucial we secure this country and block it off before some other tourist gets wise as well and alerts their government also. I'm sure there's at least one other person as cluey as I am to do that. Maybe.

Imagine, sir, if the Chinese government beat us to the punch here. They have NUCLEAR ARMS. You can't hug your children with nuclear arms, and we sure as hell can't have amazing, hot, Swiss ski bunnies just parading around our streets if the Commies get here first.

You know this is the right choice, sir. I look forward to your reply, and to the immediate invasion of Switzerland by Australia. Till that happens, I'll head back there and soak up some atmosphere.

On second thoughts, take your time.

Love and kisses to Janette,

Matt Sampson Esq.

Turns out from January 7th, we won't be able to discuss Euthanasia on the internet or on the phone, so I may as well get this out of the way.

EUTHANISE YOURSELVES NOW
A suicide-inciting article by Tommy

Unless we're lucky and die an instant death at the hands of a vehicle, a bullet or Chuck Norris, chances are we're going to go through insane amounts of pain before we die. Diseases like cancer eat away at your body until there is nothing left. To watch a family member go through such pain is pretty much the worst thing imaginable. To go through the pain yourself is, I imagine, even worse.

Some people believe this pain is a part of life, that voluntary euthanasia is a cop-out, just another name for suicide. Let me make it clear, I'm not advocating suicide. To take your life because you're in a financial mess, or because your girlfriend left you for Chuck Norris, is nothing more than a cop-out. But if you're in the latter stages of your life, you should be allowed to make a decision to peacefully die on your own terms. Obviously, there are complications when someone terminally ill cannot make such a decision, as shown by the 1-month hullaballoo over Terry Schiavo in the U.S earlier this year, but that's another blog all together.

I'll let Attorney-General and Darth Sidious look-a-like Phillip Ruddock sum up the contents of the bill: (link is a .pdf file)

“…the Bill introduces important new measures that will criminalise the use of the internet to encourage others to take their own lives. The Bill will make it an offence to use a carriage service, including the internet, to access, transmit, or make available material that counsels or incites suicide."

Not from a Jed-iiiiiiiiiii

Sounds cool, right? The Federal Government, and Labor who supported the bill's passage through the Houses, claim they are merely protecting vulnerable individiuals from those on the internet with a 'destructive intent'. And, in some way, they are. This law makes it illegal for people to make suicide pacts on the internet, or engage in suicide cults in chat rooms like those seen in Japan.

But then you look at the bill a bit further. Aside from the idiocy of trying to censor the internet, the largest global medium in the history of the world, the bill is full of contradictions. From January 7, it may be illegal to provide information about euthanasia over the phone and e-mail, but not in person. It may also be illegal for the Euthanasia Society of NSW to campaign for the introduction of voluntary euthanasia legislation in state parliament, unless they restrict their campaign to non-electronic media!

The architect of the bill

Senator Grieg from the Australian Democraps spoke of a book called 'The Final Exit' by Derek Humphrey, a guide book designed to show the terminally ill how to go about ending their lives peacefully, complete with drug dosages, tips on how to find the right care and legal and psychological advice. Grieg said that uploading or e-mailing passages of this book on the internet would constitute a crime, yet this is a book freely available in book stores and libraries. Apparently reading how to off yourself peacefully in html is somehow more dangerous than reading it in print. Thank you, Federal Government, for protecting us from the evil binary code.

If the major parties were more concerned with the impact of suicide, they would spend the money and time wasted generating and implementing this piece of shit, free speech-restricting, contradictory and useless bill, and use it funding programs aimed at reducing depression among young adults. Fix the hundreds of HSC and VCE students who kill themselves every few years before you worry about passing a bill designed to shore up your support from right-to-life pressure groups and the Religious right.

And just to make sure I'm arrested by Ruddock's clone troopers come January 7th

Jumping off cliffs is fun

That's hot.

Audio Blogs!

• Mark Latham Interview
• The first audio blog, with the man himself.
  
• Mark Latham Interview II
• Hilarity ensues when EMO Week and a Latham Interview coincide.
  
• Mark Latham Interview IVIXVXICCXIVIII
• Tommy interviews Mark about his recent legal troubles.
  
• President Bush Interview
• The Commander In Chief talks to Tommy about his new defense strategies.
  
• President Bush Interview II
• Hilarity doesn't ensue when Tommy wastes time ripping audio clips of President Bush.
  
• Premier Bob Carr Interview
• Tommy interviews Mr. Carr the day of his retirement as Premier.
  
• Work Choices Starring Tommy
• Tommy sells out and does a favour for the Liberal Party.
  
• Al Qaeda Message Translated
• Tommy sells out less and does a favour for Al Qaeda.
  
• Television Classification Starring Tommy
• Tommy swears lots for cheap laughs.
  
• Tommy's Night Before Christmas
• Tommy ruins a childhood favourite for cheap laughs.
  

No blogs until Friday at the earliest, I'm going away for SCHOOLIES 5: We Just Can't Let It Go at lovely sunny Forster until then.

For those of you not going, who have to work or go to school or just weren't invited because they're punks, I leave you with this:

Suck a fat one.

Things You Can Buy With $117 Million

• A one-night new release DVD hire for every single Australian
• The contracts of the top 25 players in every NRL Team (except for the Roosters)
• A one-night stand with Elisha Cuthbert (price may decrease depending on buyer's age and ugliness)
• 6157895 buzzcuts at Mimmo's Men's Barbers, Winston Hills
• The Republic of Kiribati, an island nation in the Pacific, with change left over to buy a sizeable chunk of Palau
• Two Boost Juices
• The Australian Federal Government's total advertising budget, including $25.9 million alone in the month of October, the largest single monthly ad buy in Australian advertising history. Includes over 12,600 TV spots, 11,000 of which were reserved for Work Choices. A total of 91.7 hours of Work Choices ads, almost four days worth, in October alone.
• The support and complicity of the Australian media in the upcoming federal election campaign, due to the Government lining Packer, Stokes, Murdoch and the Fairfax's pockets with $117 million of premium-rate advertising
• A whole bunch of handys

I've often said how much I dislike personal blogs and how people think others want to read about their day at the bus stop. I think unless you've got something to say about an issue that affects other people, or something genuinely interesting happened to you, or you can turn a mundane event into an entertaining bitch, then you should STFU about your boring life. But today I am going to make an exception

Cause I'm going to get a buzzcut

At least I think I am. I've been mulling it over for about two months, but keep pussying out when I get to the barber.

...

Alright, it's a hairdresser.

I used to go to a barber until the retard cut the back of my neck. He also had an egg timer of some description, and would time every haircut he gave me. When you have scissors a few centimetres away from my eyeballs, I don't want you to be racing the clock.

Anyway, it's a tough decision. I have a rather large noggin (I was going to write 'rather large head' and make a rude joke but fuck you for judging me), so it might look weird, but my hair has always been short anyway so a #2 all round won't make that much of a difference. Having a buzzcut would also save me oodles of time. I wouldn't have to put gel in my hair when I went out, and I would save on my fortnightly hair wash. Oh yeah bitches - I said fortnightly. Naturally occuring grease is sexy.

I'm pretty sure sometime in the next two hours I will get a buzzcut. Today is my last shift at Subgay, I finished uni a few weeks ago, and sometimes you need to mix things up a bit. And I'm going to America on Jan 7, so if the buzzcut is shit, hopefully it will have fixed itself by then.

And I can't believe I just wrote that much about my fucking hair.


UPDATE:

Tommy just got a buzzcut

He would post a picture but it would probably end up some man/boy love porn site

There's this big thing in the local entertainment media that the Australian film industry is terminally ill, that unless it is given more funding, it will continue to produce mediocre results at the box office. Now, I'm no Hollywood studio chief (not since I greenlit 'The Legend of Bagger Vance'), so I'll let star of 'The Castle' and all-round legend Michael Caton to do the talking.

"I think in some ways a lot of people have made movies for their friends rather than for a mainstream audience," Caton said.

A normal person would agree with Mr. Caton. I go to the movies a few times a month, but the last Australian movie I saw was Crackerjack in the year 2002. The last collection of pissweak jokes done by untalented wogs I saw was Fat Pizza in the year 2003. That's it. The only Australian movie that has come out in the last three years that I've wanted to see is Wolf Creek, and even then I can barely get my mates to fire up enough to watch it. Is it their fault for not recognising the awesome talent of former Better Homes and Gardens co-host John Jarratt? Maybe.

In 1972, John Jarratt's beard won an AFI Award

But it's the Australian film industry's fault for making so many shitty, elitist movies that when a good one finally comes out, people don't want to see them!

Let's take a look at the current batch of Aussie films.

(I think I just heard the hits to my site crash)

The Proposition: In this uncompromising Australian period drama set in the 1880s, three brothers fight for their place in a beautiful, brutal landscape, but, in a seemingly impossible proposition, one must be forsaken to save another.

...

'Hey Bruce, nobody is coming to see Australian movies'
'Let's make a period drama set in the 1880's'
'That's bloody brilliant'

Look Both Ways: Animator Sarah Watt's first feature film explores the lives of a number of damaged people over one weekend in Adelaide. Meryl, an artist, arrives home after attending her father's funeral; there is news of a train crash, and she is almost witness to the death of a man on a railway line.

No.

Little Fish: Tracy Heart is an ex-junkie who swims, works, sleeps and lives with her mother in Sydney’s Little Saigon, dreaming of a better life. But the unexpected return of her ex-boyfriend, the criminal aspirations of her brother and the emotional draw of a troubled family friend creates friction for Tracy. Her dream soon becomes entangled with criminal boss Bradley "The Jockey" Thompson with shattering consequences.

This one scooped up loads of awards. It stars Cate Blanchett and Sam Neil. Because Sam Neil just isn't in enough Australian movies.

Notice a trend with these movies? They're all quirky abstract dramas. No thrillers, no action movies, no straight-up dramas that tell a story Australians can relate to. And when the industry makes a genre flick like Wolf Creek, or a decent comedy like The Castle or Crackerjack, they wonder why it's successful. And then they go and hire Claudia Karvan and David Wenham and make a movie about a struggling artist who befriends a young Taiwanese boy and begins a journey of self-discovery that leads her to inner-city Melbourne and the warm embrace of a multicultural society.

I think the world would be better off if Australian actors just stuck to what they do best

Amateur pornos.

Isn't that right, Sally from Home and Away?

MATTHEW REILLY IS A WORTHLESS HACK
An unbiased exploration of the work of author Matthew Reilly

I read a lot of books, and have done since I was a little tacker. Don't get me wrong though, I'm no literary boffin, it's not Catcher in the Rye or Tale of Two Cities I read, it's books by guys like Michael Crichton and Tom Clancy. Nice action/political/science/Velociraptor thrillers - books that are well-written and paced, but don't contain any pooncy words like 'boffin'.

But even I have standards.

I've read some of the most ridiculous, insane books you could imagine. One where the President is replaced by a clone and has to clear his name Fugitive style. One where a terror cell threatened to blow up London landmarks with rocket launchers fired from dingies, only to be stopped by a Sherlock Holmes style detective, complete with an evil pooncy villain who kidnapped his partner. I've even read Emma.

And then one Christmas I was given a book so woefully awful, so horribly inaedequate, so adverb adjective, that it hurt me inside. It was a book called Area 7. The author - Matthew Reilly. It tells the story of Marine Shane Schofield and his team, who are escorting the President on an inspection of of Area 7, a top secret Air Force base. Of course, all is not as it seems, and Schofield is forced to fight his way through an enemy force determined to see the end of the United States of America.

Sounds hot, right? 'enemy force', 'top secret', 'end of the United States of America'. But then you read it.


This is what Matthew Perry would look like if he had been sexually molested by a bus when he was twelve.

Matthew Reilly writes worse than I do, which is why I'm allowed to bag him out. He is dead set the single worst author in the history of the novel. Tomorrow When The War Began looks like fucking Shakespeare crossed with Dickins when you read Area 7. A typical Area 7 page contains at least two of the following elements.

a) A paramilitary team
b) An explosive firefight
c) People running/escaping
d) Wild animals loose from their cages (I am not joking)

Here's an example I prepared earlier.

Schofield looked around the room, scanning for hostiles. His M64a1 Carbine was secured firmly in his hands. He looked up, past the control panel which controlled the only exit out of the facility which will be referred to again later in the novel. But something was different. Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

He spun around, shooting a torrential waterfall of bullets as he dived for cover! Shell casings littered the steel floor, unecessary exclamation! But his enemy did not flinch, short sentence. Because his enemy was a bear. Shorter sentence. An angry bear. Really short sentence.

A bear.

*End Chapter 12*

Now, you probably think that's poorly-done parody. Oh Tommy, you say to yourself, straddling your bowl of Twisties, nobody could possibly write that bad and get published. Well, you're wrong. Matthew Reilly has 6 published books. They are Australian and international bestsellers. One is being optioned into a movie. And in case you're still not convinced he is a horrible writer, I give you his most recent novel.

'Hover Car Racer'



Yes, Hover Car Racer tells the story of Jason Chaser, a Hover Car Racer. He's 'a boy in a man's world - pitted against the cutthroat future world of near-supersonic racing'. Christ, even the blurb is horrible.

HIS NAME RHYMES WITH HIS OCCUPATION!@#e@

Ian Fleming didn't name James Bond 'MICHAEL TAGENT, SECRET AGENT'. You know why he didn't, Reilly?

BECAUSE IAN FLEMING KNEW HOW TO WRITE A FUCKING BOOK, THAT'S WHY

YOU WORTHLESS HACK!@ YOU CAN'T RHYME YOUR TITLE WITH YOUR CHARACTER!!

!@#$$



On a more personal note, how come this is the second blog in a week or so that has ended with me referencing James Bond, then yelling in bolded caps? All it needs is a picture of Samo Hu-




Oh my god.

You may or may not know this, but in spite of my player hating towards John Howard and the Liberal Party, I'm actually pretty well connected on that side of the aisle. Which is why when the Libs needed a voice over artist for their latest round of Work Choices commercials, they turned to me. So here it is, it should be on radio soon, but I'll give you guys a sneak peek.


I call him J-Ho

Download the mp3 here

Or the .zip here

i hate scott

Intelligant Design
A bitch by Prof. Tommy M.D

Right now in the States there's a big shitstorm over whether 'Intelligent Design' (the theory that nature and life is too complex to have evolved gradually and that there must have been an intelligent designer/God pulling the strings) should be taught in schools. The Kansas Board of Education recently rewrote the definition of science to no longer limit it to 'the search for natural explanations of phenomena', thereby opening the door for 300 or so Kansas school boards to authorise the teaching of Intelligent Design alongside Evolution in their science classes.

Because gosh darn it, if anybody knows the real definition of science, it's the Kansas Board of Education.

But hey, America always gets up to stuff like this, right? After all, this was the country that had a Supreme Court case arguing whether a statue of the Ten Commandments should be placed outside a court! Stuff like this could never happen in a country like Australia, where we respect the seperation of church and state, right?

At Pacific Hills Christian School in Dural intelligent design is taught in science classes. The school's principal, Ted Boyce, said he was not persuaded by the Australian scientists' and teachers' stance and it was appropriate to teach it as an alternative explanation for the origin of humanity.
from smh.com.au

Oh.

How come everything dumb always happens near my house?

We did not evolve from monkeys

Straight off the bat I'll add a qualifier so the 80% Christian readership of my blog doesn't put a Jesus curse on me - I have no problem with Intelligent Design or Creationism being taught in religion classes. If a parent sends their kid to a Christian school, it should be expected they learn about Adam and Eve and the rib and the talking snake and the divine birth of Ric Flair. Same as if a parent sends their kid to a Muslim school, they should learn about... whatever Muslims believe happened. And Jews should be taught their creation story, which I believe involve lots of gold. BUT, these stories are not science.

Intelligent Design advocates talk about a concept called 'Irreducible Complexity', saying that some structures are too complex to have evolved, like the flagellum of bacteria. They say that these structures have too many intertwined parts to have evolved piece by piece, and therefore an intelligent designer must have played a part. Of course, this theory has more holes in it than Paris Hilton, but it is an alternative to Evolution. It's just untestable, unobservable and unreplicable. You know, like a good scientific theory.

The 'Intelligent' Design Fossil Record

Evolution is the framework around which natural history is understood, you can't pick and choose which science you'll teach or believe. And you really can't be teaching impressionable children a completely unscientific theory in science class. And if you are, why just limit it to Intelligent Design?

Why not the Flying Spaghetti Monster theory of creation in science class?

Why not teach kids that we're all part of the Matrix and our body heat is being used to power machines that for some reason let us live and oh shit brain hurting matrix too complicated and crap?

How come nobody teaches my theory, that life is like a box of chocolates?

It's because teaching theories like Intelligent Design in science class is like teaching professional wrestling in P.E class. It just doesn't make sense.

Though that would be pretty wicked. I bet I could write 3000 words on why the WWF should never have given the World Title to the Big Show in 1999. That would be hot.

I really should wait until I graduate before I write this, but what the shit - I am completely out of material after I used the gay marriage card a few posts ago, so it's downhill from here anyway.

For the last three years, I've been completing a media degree at a university that shall not be named because I will get into trouble if someone reads this. I had about two subjects a year where I had to produce actual journalism - real stories about real events and real people. Problem is - I don't really care for that stuff. Calling people up for info, interviewing sources, unearthing scoops, it ain't for me.

So I made it up.

When I had to produce waivers for interviews I conducted, I made them up. Sometimes I'd use my mates and attribute quotes to them (and then forge their sigs). Sometimes I invented people, like my personal favourite 'unamed ALP campaign worker in the seat of Mitchell'. Considering the ALP primary vote in Mitchell, I don't think they have any campaign workers and if they did I doubt they'd be able to communicate verbally. Maybe a complex series of winks, I dunno.

Most recently I had to document my experience on the Sydney suburban rail network, so I wrote about a few trips that I never actually took. In my time at uni, 1 piece out of about 10 was legit journalism. The rest was... how you say... Daily Telegraph-ish

So in summation, I am a fraud. Anything I say on this blog may or may not be completely fabricated. I mightn't even work at Subway and like 24. For all you know I could be a fat chick working at Hungry Jacks who likes Alias. Wouldn't that be fucking trippy. Some fat bitch with two sets of tits because her stomach folds onto itself when she sits down lecturing you about gay marriage and terrorism, her acne-spotted face excreting grease with every keystroke while her abusive father hammers on her bedroom door

Stop writing your bloody stories in there Janice! he says (her name would be Janice)

...

I'm off topic.

If any of my lecturers are reading this, this blog is completely fabricated please don't fail me or I'll cut myself

I
have
finished
university
forever




send help

I haven't written anything for the blog in ages, and it looks like the homo marriage blog has quietened down, so I've been trawling through the news looking for something to comment on.

There was the awesome raid against suspected terrorists in Sydney and Melbourne this morning, and also the terrorist suspect who got shot in the neck by the cops at Green Valley, which is equally awesome, especially if it was captured on film and starred Benincio Del Toro.

Then there was the Lane Cove tunnel collapse last week, which should give those dickheads at the Lane Cove Tunnel Action group some more stuff to bitch about on their annoying signs on Epping Rd.

There's also the riots in France, where France proved once again they're the toughest mofos on the planet by letting a bunch of unemployed youths hold a few cities to ransom. I believe the French Government's next course of action is to send in copies of 'Pootie Tang' to calm down the rioters, as it is obviously against French custom to SHOOT PEOPLE WHO BURN THINGS.

And Bert signed with Channel Nine!

But none of this stuff really interests me (except for Bert). Not when there is something even more important to write about. Something that is perhaps the most important topic I have ever discussed on TommyIsCoolDotCom.


Nicolas Cage is a tool.


You'd think the star of movies like Face Off, Con Air and National Treasure would be a cool guy. You'd think that a legendary action movie star wou-

Wait wait wait, he was in National Treasure?

Oh well fuck him.


Hello, I have Down Syndrome

Nicolas Cage is an arrogant piece of overhyped bald crap. This buck-toothed tool has the hide to criticise the producers of the latest James Bond film, because they rejected him for being 'American'. Apparently Nic thinks:

"You can cast a Brit to play Bond but you can never cast an American to play him.

"I think that is totally unfair."

I shouldn't really have a go at him, after all I said the same thing when I was rejected for the role of Shaft. Apparently only a black person can play a black detective now. I thought we lived in a democracy, or at least a sub-democracy.

JAMES BOND IS BRITISH

JAMES BOND IS NOT BALDING

JAMES BOND SHOULD NOT BE PLAYED BY ANYBODY WHO HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH 'GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS'

YOU, NICOLAS CAGE, STAR OF 'IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU', CAN NOT PLAY JAMES BOND. NEITHER CAN THIS GUY:


He has his Sake shaken, not stirred

IF SAMMO HUNG CAN DEAL WITH NOT BEING JAMES BOND, SO CAN YOU


AND YOU CAN'T PLAY FUCKING SUPERMAN EITHER

South Park is ripping me off!@!$#

I guess by Season Nine it's tough to come up with new material so they've gone and BLATANTLY STOLEN my whole 'make a thing about Gay Marriage' idea.

THIEVES

This is the most recent episode:

910 - Follow That Egg
Airdate: 2005-11-02
Mrs. Garrison realizes he still has feelings for Mr. Slave. But, Mr. Slave has moved on. He plans to marry his new love as soon as the Governor signs the same-sex marriage bill. Mrs. Garrison leads the charge against gay marriage.

Soon they will make a very special episode of South Park where Kyle has a website and he lets Stan makes a post about anti-terror legislation and then Stan and Wendy get into a massive fight with Mr Garrison about the Iraq War while Kyle sits and giggles and counts his Jew Gold because he got like a billion hits to his site

Or something like that

I've been talking up how one day I'm going to make a post on Gay Marriage to generate controversy and get lots of comments, but after the 116 comment bonanza that came about after REDACTED's anti-terror legislation, it's almost redundant. I don't think I could say anything controversial enough to generate 116 comments, and if I tried I'd just end up saying something stupid like George Bush Doesn't Care About Black People.

But what the hell, let's talk about homo marriage


HOMO MARRIAGEAn in-depth report by Tommy (hehe in-depth)


As I've said before on this blog, I'm a different strokes (hehe strokes) for different folks kinda guy. I don't care who you worship (unless you're a Mormon), who you vote for (unless it's Liberal) or who you want to shag (unless they're ugly). I also believe that people should be allowed to live their lives as they see fit, unless their decisions impact negatively on another person. Which is why I fire up when I hear Mosman Councillor's say brown people aren't welcome, or hear Muslim Clerics defend gang rapes, or see films or games or TV shows get unecessarily censored because they offend some people.

So in 2004, when the Howard Government introduced and passed completely unecessary legislation (they were outlawing something that wasn't legal in the first place) to ban gay marriage in Australia, and were supported by a Labor Opposition who didn't want to get on the wrong side of religious conservatives in an election year, I fired up. And though the legislation doesn't affect me (Freddy Fittler said 'no' when I proposed), I'm still fired up.


Why Freddy :(

Every citizen of this country, no matter who they prefer boning, should be allowed to get married. Every couple should possess the right to have or adopt children. Every couple in the country should be afforded the same rights in regards to superannuation, inheritance, visitation and medical decisions. State-by-state laws are insufficient in giving homosexual couples the same right as heterosexual couples. Discrimination based on sexuality is no different to discrimination based on race or religion, it is immoral and unjust in a modern democracy.

There is a religious argument against gay marriage, and I fully support the rights of churches and parishioners not to condone such unions. However, in the year 2005, marriage is not the sole possession of the Church. Marriage is a Government-recognised, legal agreement -it can be performed outside of Churches by civil celebrants. Churches should be free to express their beliefs in regards to same-sex marriage, but their opposition should not be a consideration in legislation. It's that pesky little 'seperation of Church and State' thingy that always pops up in democracies.

The argument that marriage is the bedrock of 'family values' and any moves to allow homos to tie the knot would 'undermine our social fabric' or would 'pose a threat to society' conveniently ignores the fact that 40% of marriages in this country end in divorce. Call me crazy, but I think if marriage was such an important part of the social fabric of our country, the skyrocketing divorce rate would have done us in ages ago. I fail to see how letting two people who love each other join the ranks is going to have a negative effect on society. How come the thousands of de-facto homosexual couples don't pose a similar threat to society? Do they only generate social upheaval when they share the same last name?


Sesame Street turned deadly when Bert and Ernie finally tied the knot

The above argument also just happens to be the same one used to prevent interracial marriages a century or two ago. A variation on that argument was also used to justify the White Australia policy. In fact, pretty much every advance in civil rights has been opposed by claiming a 'threat' to moral fibre or social values or the moral fabric or bedrock or tradition. Some things are just not worth defending.

I'll probably cop a bit of shit for saying same-sex couples should be allowed to adopt children. It is the worst example of discrimination in the whole bunch. The typical argument is that the most desirable outcome for a child is to have strong female and male role models. It was the same argument used to villify single mothers a few decades ago. And I agree, in a perfect world, every child would have a Mummy and a Daddy wholovedthemverrrryyymuch. And Daddy wouldn't drink. And Mummy wouldn't fuck Daddy's best friend. And they wouldn't get a divorce when the child was 12. And Mummy's new boyfriend wouldn't hit the child when he had a lousy day at work. But in case you haven't noticed yet, the world isn't perfect.

And studies conducted over the last two decades show little difference in the emotional or mental health of children raised by homosexual couples compared to their heterosexual counterparts. A child raised by pillow-biters doesn't necessarily become a pillow-biter. And while some of these studies are criticised for using flawed methodology, there are few studies which show a decidedly negative outcome for children raised by homosexuals.

Call me crazy, but I don't think the sexuality of a child's parents has anything to do with how well they raise their kid. And there are plenty of other scenarios worse than a kid having two mums or two dads, yet I don't see them being outlawed. If a homosexual couple do not have the same rights as a heterosexual couple in regards to adopting and raising children, then neither should single parents.


So yes, that's about it.


Here is a picture of some lesbians.

Tommy's Trip To The Wrestling
A pictorial essay


On Thursday night I went to the Sydney Superdome in Homebush, to see THE WRESTLING~! As a fan of wrestling since I was tiny (as a sperm, I had a 35-minute cage match with wrestling legend Killer Kowalski), I never miss a chance to see the superstars of the WWE pretend to beat each other up (I won by the way, Kowalski had nothing). And because words cannot capture how incredible and beautiful professional wrestling is, here are some pictures (and boy did he get some weird questions after he lost a cage match to a sperm).

First off, a picture of the arena from our seats before it became choc-full of wogs, dickheads, rednecks, kids and Samoan security guards who could crush me with their eyelids:


Now don't let that beautiful, crisp, perfectly balanced shot fool you. I am the world's worst photographer. Isn't that right, Whyms' knee?


But enough about me. Here's The Big Show, a 7"2, 450 pound monster. Or as he's called in this photo, Blurry McBlurryson - the world's biggest blur


The dude in the blue T-Shirt is named Carlito, he is cool. The dude in the white jacket is Eugene, he is a mentally-handicapped person who is also a wrestler. I am not making this up, he's a grown-man playing a retard who wrestles. He brought a Koala Bear to the ring and then bit Carlito on the arse. Again, not making anything up. Except maybe the sperm story at the start, I was more of a fetus.


I am not a religious guy, but the man in the next photo is a wrestling god. He is Ric Flair, he's 56 years old and BLED for us on Thursday night, and based on the following photo, he has a hole in his chest under his left man boob.


And wrestling isn't wrestling without sex appeal, so we were treated to a womens match involving the lovely Trish Stratus and the even lovelier Torrie Wilson. Isn't that right, arse of 500-pound black wrestler Viscera?



WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

This is going to be a hodge podge of a blog because I am not sufficiently fired up to write about one thing. First off, I am declaring a national day of mourning and a TommyIsCoolDotCom-led boycott of Channel Ten for DARING TO AXE GOOD MORNING AUSTRALIA WITH BERT NEWTON@!#

First off - Bert is a living treasure. He is the funniest man on Australian television. He is to Rove what a pile of gold is to an unfunny short piece of shit. And for Channel Ten to axe him just because Mornings with Kerri-Anne is getting double the ratings is nothing short of treason. Luckily because the new anti-terror legislation hasn't been made law, Channel Ten won't be handcuffed and beaten with a pig's head.

Second of all, I don't listen to Triple J very often, only sometimes for Today Today with Chris and Craig. I don't like the other Triple J announcers because they are pretentious tools who pretend to know everything about music and none of them have good radio voices (they need to be more like The Spoonman on Triple M, he is tops). But I was willing to give them a shot when I flicked to 105.7 yesterday to hear them discussing LESBIAN KISSES

woop woop woop woop wooop wooop

But my exuberance and tightening of the pants mwahey was short-lived, because the Triple J announcers decided to discuss the issue of HOT GIRL ON GIRL ACTION (that will get me a few hits) by talking about 'statistics' and 'the social implications' and 'historical trends'.

...

So here's a hint Triple J, when you talk about this:




DON'T TALK ABOUT IT


Geez.

Oh and The B-Team with Merrick and Rosso is the worst show ever

And this blog has not just been an elaborate excuse just so I could post the picture of two girls kissing

About a week ago, former Veterans Affairs Minister Dana Vale had the top idea of building a Gallipoli inspired memorial park, and was later bagged out by pretty much everybody in the entire universe. But while some people think its tacky and a crap idea, I think it's great. And I'm kind of honoured, because I had the same idea a while back. I also had a few other ideas for Terrible Moments in Australian History Theme Parks, and I think it's time to share them in a blog I'm going to call

Terrible Moments in Australian History Theme Parks

1. Harold Holt's Wet'n'Wild Park

Ideally located south of Melbourne in Portsea, this water park is a unique educational, wet experience. Recreate Holt's last swim in our authentic beach, go 'All The Way With LBJ' down the 20-foot slide, and then when your day is over, get kidnapped by a Chinese midget submarine!

Somehow, when Prime Minister Holt re-emerged, he possessed the power to change his skin colour to black and white

2. The Ivan Milat Experience

Located in the heart of the Bengalo State Forest, re-trace the steps of serial killer Ivan Milat as he prowls for his latest victim. Take in the sights of the hourly firework show, then learn how to brutally execute a lonely woman and hide her body under a pile of sticks. Extremely popular amongst backpackers.

3. Azaria Chamberlain's Wild Ride

Look out kids! Are those rides at Movie World a little dull? Then sink your teeth into this one! Got a parent you don't really like? Are your parents in a death cult? Does your name mean 'Sacrifice' in a undetermined language? Then hop on board Azaria Chamberlain's Wild Ride, get taken by a dingo and enjoy the fun as your Mum spends a few years in prison! Get Dad in there too and you can eat pizza for dinner EVERY NIGHT!

4. The Sari Clubhouse

A recreation of the popular Bali nightclub, you too can pay the price for years of Indonesians doing jack-all about terrorism in this explosive theme park. Complete with accomodation packages at the Jakarta Marriott, this park is sure to be a blast. And come home with some Sari Clubhouse merchandise, like our T-Shirts:

5. The 2004 Federal Elections: The 3D Experience

The re-election of Howard and Costello for three more years is perhaps the most terrible moment in Australian history since the crowning of Casey Donovan as the Australian Idol in 2004, and this park lets you re-live the wild journey - in 3D! Wince as Latham signs that massive novelty cheque - in 3D! Shudder as he announces his forests policy - in 3D! And cry yourself to sleep as you come to terms with the fact that you just wasted a year of your life following the minute details of a campaign that ended with you huddled in a corner of your room crying like a little fucking baby because that rat faced cunt got re-elected - in 3D! Fun for the whole family, and if you're about to have a baby, entrance is FREE!

Wow, Natasha Scott Despoja's tits look great in 3D

Now, obviously these parks have about as much chance of becoming reality as Phil Kearns does of becoming Father Of The Year, but its the thought that counts. Anyway if you want me I'll be in Hell because of that damn T-Shirt joke.

Well that was fun.


....




Here is a picture of a puppy

Here is a guest blog from the man who couldn't be a plane because he only has a left wing, Monsieur REDACTED, The Thong-kicking Faggot

Matthew Reilly is The Worst Author Ever
An analysis of the Howard Government's new anti-terror legislation
By REDACTED
Just think for a moment that you didn’t have the fortune to be born white, and that instead you were born with brown skin pigment and had a penchant for turbans and facial hair. Well, if you did, and you lived in Australia, John Howards about to tear you a new one.


Luckily for this guy, not only doesn't he live in Australia, but he was killed in a hit-and-run accident in downtown Kabul in the year 2003.

Howards new anti terrorism laws that he is proposing to rush through the parliament in 2 weeks and the senate in 1 day are going to really suck. Lets look at a few examples of why they suck harder than John Howard when Bush is around.

Say my lady friend ‘skirt’ was of middle eastern appearance and could probably grow more facial hair than the members of ZZ-top. Well, under the new laws she can now be taken and held without being charged for two weeks. They don’t even need any evidence to do so. Once they have abducted her, she is only allowed contact with her family for two hours a day, and all conversations will be closely monitored. If she gets a lawyer, then there is no longer any lawyer-client confidentiality as their convos are monitored as well.


A phone tap

But here is the real kicker, after my lady friend has been gone a couple of days, and I’m starting to get a little worried, her parents can not tell me what happened. If they say that she is being held, then they face 5 years in jail. In Indonesia, a country that kills you when you smuggle drugs, you can mastermind large scale terrorist operations (and impersonate Dr Matt Destruction from the Hives) and get only 30 months in jail, where in Australia you get double that for informing people that their mates are being held by the government.

Cool. Isn’t our government up to date with the world.

Lets consider another example, say I’m wandering out of my favourite kebab place one afternoon. Due to all the hate crimes that have been directed at ‘darkies’ over the past couple of years I have now becme wary of other peoples actions around me. An unmarked van pulls onto the footpath, blocking my way. Instantly, several casually dressed people weilding guns that could have come out of a Matthew Reilly book get out of the van and start advancing on me. I drop my kebab and run in the opposite direction quicker than Bush could say “Brownie, you’re doing a heck of a job.”


We solve problems because we are problem solvers. We eat zucchini because we are zucchini eaters.

The men shout “stop” but I keep running away from the mysterious gunmen. They take aim and fire. Three fire shots that hit me in the chest and one fires several rounds into my head. As my brains begin to ooze out onto the pavement and mix with my blood that is now forming rivers along the cracks in the cement, the gunmen congratulate themselves on a job well done. They nailed a possible bad person as they fled from un-identified gun-toting henchmen. That’s right. Under these new laws, you can get killed for fleeing. And remember, they can pick you up without any evidence so ultimately, you can get killed for just wanting some Jimi’s.

There are pantloads more. Basically, now that he’s figured out a way to undo 50 years of union work in one sweeping lot of industrial relations reforms, Howard has now decided to move back onto a tried and true topic. That is, discriminating against people with better tans than you who speak more than one language.

I guess I’m thankful that I was born white. And Male. And superior to Richie in almost every way.

Those wacky councillors over at Mosman are up to their usual tricks. First they try and beat the shit out of each other and now one of them has said that Muslims would not be welcomed in the suburb. Apparently councillor Dominic Lopez was concerned that "men in flowing gowns and flowing beards" were inspecting the up-for-sale Christian Science property on Military Road.

Now I don't want to jump to conclusions and call Cr. Lopez a bigoted bastard, because 'men in flowing gowns and flowing beards' could well mean something else. I know I'd be pretty pissed if some Jedis moved in up the street from me.


Mmm this watermelon is delicious

You may have heard of a similar incident in Annangrove a few years ago, when those dastardly Muslims tried to practice their faith and build a prayer hall, and 1000 ignorant bigo- citizens sent in letters to their gutless Councillors to get the application defeated. In their defense, they claimed the prayer hall wasn't in 'the public interest' rather than just come straight out and say 'We don't like dem A-rabs'. The defeat was later overturned by the courts, and the hall was built. And then vandalised with pigs blood, just to ram home the point that Annangrove residents don't like brown people.

But back to Cr. Lopez:

Cr Lopez went on to say that wherever mosques were built, nearby properties took longer to sell.

He said: "I had an uncle in Lakemba. They put a mosque at the end of his street, and it changed. When he died it took them a couple of years to sell the house."

Gee, you think maybe the house took a few years to sell because it was in LAKEMBA? No, no it was definitely the mosque. Because there's absolutely no Muslims in Lakemba. And none of them would want to live near the place they have to go to a few times a week. Of course. The logic is brilliant.

And you know what? Lopez will get voted back in with even more votes because he just went and insulted a minority group. I hate people that insult minorities.

The bloody spick.

I haven't updated my blog since Tuesday, so I figured I'd post a holdover until I can think of something interesting to write about. Also, I've been having some troubles with ASIO and what not due to all my posts about terrorism, so I've agreed to run my posts through a Government-appointed editor before I post them on my blog. It's a hassle but it's merely a precaution, they've promised me complete creative freedom. Anyway, onto my blog.

I was at the bus stop today, and my foot was itchy, so I went to scr

WorkChoices will introduce a better balance to the existing unfair dismissal laws to encourage, not inhibit, jobs growth.

atch it with my other foot (I was wearing thongs), and I look down and there's this hairy centipede crawling on my foot. So I squish it with my thong

Since 1996 the Australian Government’s workplace relations reforms have contributed to a stable and low inflationary climate. Combined with higher productivity, this has ensured increasing real wages, the lowest unemployment in nearly 30 years and low interest rates for Australian workers and their families.

and it's head detaches from its body right, so I flick away the head and watch the little bugger die as I wait for my bus. And like, this thing has been torn in half, green slime is pouring out of its body, it has no freaking HEAD

Australia needs a more flexible labour market to maximise economic growth and employment opportunities and to maintain and improve Australians’ standard of living in an increasingly globalised economy.

and it's still moving around! I mean holy crap, this is a hardcore centipede. It's literally tearing its body in half again so it can escape, but obviously it can't move because it has no HEAD!

The reforms will:

• Not cut minimum and award classification wages
• Not abolish awards
• Not remove the right to join a union
• Not take away the right to strike
• Not outlaw union agreements
• Not abolish the AIRC.

So anyway, it provided me with some entertainment while I waited for the bus. And that's about the most interesting thing that happened to me today.

John Howard's feces smell like roses

The thong-kicking faggot sent me a link to this blog the other day. Now, it's got nothing on the Emo Blog I reviewed before, but it definitely has its own homely charm. So without further ado, I present to you...

TACO GIRL



Now, the first thing you'll notice here is that the bitch has copied my blog layout. What a mother bitch. When you read through her site, you'll see it's actually quite serious. She's a mother with a verbally abusive husband who makes posts about her mortgage dilemmas and her struggle to decide whether she should be a surrogate mother or not. You know, normal stuff.

But then you read her 100th post. The numbered list is a staple of blogs, particularly those by people who have absolutely no creativity. But Taco Girl's list of '100 Things About Me' is absolutely fantastic. Probably the best thing I've ever read since the page in Latham's diaries when he says 'cunt'. Let's take a look at the best bits.

• 1. I have green eyes
• 5. I love Mexican food
• 6. Especially tacos
• 7. I load sourcream and/or cheese on just about everything

She starts off normal, she has green eyes, loves Mexican food and sour cream. Then, just when you think it's going to be an entire list devoted to the foods she eats too much of - BAM!

• 10. I was kind of a slut way back when

Woah nelly. It's safe to say that perked my interest (until I saw a photo of her). But she gets a bit boring after that, talking about her family, her childhood, then her own children before she surprises us again with

• 27. I had dd when I was 16.
• 28. I had ds when I was 25.
• 29. I got married when I was 7 months pregnant with ds.
• 30. DD's dad is a convicted felon.

BAM! ('DD' and 'DS' are her children by the way") Now we're getting somewhere. She got knocked up when she was a teenager! And then got married! And the first kid's dad is a FELON! Now we're cooking with oil and it's only a third of the way in! Somebody change my pants because this is getting ho-

• 35. My best friend committed suicide when we were 19.
• 36. Her name was Sigrid.
• 37. She died on the railroad tracks.
• 38. I never had another best- best friend like that.

Ok bitch you totally killed my buzz. Next you're going to tell us some horrible story about how you lost your virginity.

• 39. I lost my virginity when I was 14.
• 40. To a 17 year old.
• 41. Then my family moved me away to the country.
• 42. I got back with him when I was 19 and already had dd.
• 43. He killed himself one night after I left his apartment.
• 44. That fucked me up.

O...kay.... But things are better now right?

• 45. My husband would KILL me if he knew about this blog.

But your husband aside, your life is ok now though isn't it? Like you're dealing with all these problems? Cause stuff like that could fuck you up.

• 57. I am probably an alcoholic.
• 58. I love popping pills too.
• 59. Xanax= good!
• 60. I have tried EVERY drug you can think of.
• 61. Even heroin.
• 62. I don't do any of that shit now.

Oh. Right. But that's good, number 62, you're over the drugs. That's great to hear. I know some people who get over drug addictions by replacing their drugs with food, so when they want a fix they just have a donut or something.

• 63. I have an eating disorder.

.... Okay. Well, I guess as long as it's not too bad, everyone kinda has an eating disorder in some way. I only have hot chocolate for breakfast!

• 66. I love to get eaten out.

Ohhh. That kind of eating disorder. I don't have that.

• 67. I love Mr. Pink, my trusty vibro.
• 68. I had a foursome once.
• 69. My husband couldn't keep it up.
• 70. That made me feel good in a way. :)

I'm lying. I said I didn't have an eating disorder and right after I read #67 I VOMITED MY LUNCH. I think I'll skip the next few about your freaky sex life. Here's a nice one.

• 92. I love to cook.
• 93. I hate to clean.
• 94. My favorite color is blue.

Aww, I like blue too! Maybe your life isn't so bad after all!

• 100. I am incapable of being happy.

Oh. You're also incapable of structuring a list so the bits about how you're an ex-junkie anorexic whose childhood was full of unimaginable trauma isn't mixed in with the bits about your favourite colour and how much you enjoy sour cream.

I think Taco Girl should ditch her husband and date this guy.

Ok, flashback to this morning, Tommy wakes up with a bleeding nose due to having a cold and blowing and picking it too much (and having nothing to do with the four lines of coke he did the night before). He cleans it up then goes about his day (like making that fancy new logo at the top of the blog)

Cut to Tommy at university in the afternoon, hanging around waiting for a tute to start when he sees his feminazi friend REDACTED. He takes a seat next to REDACTED, who is probably reading some lezbo book, when Joy's manboy REDACTED arrives, and greets Tommy by kicking a THONG AT HIS FACE

The thong flies through the air, connecting DIRECTLY ON THE NOSTRIL FROM WHICH TOMMY BLED LIKE A STUCK PIG HAVING A PERIOD THIS MORNING

So needless to say my nose started bleeding again (IN PUBLIC!!@#) while REDACTED laughs it up and shakes his manboobs like a little fucking ballerina with his stupid hair and shirt that someone shat on while he jacked off as he got peed on by a 64 year old farmer from africa which is the same hellhole where he lived as the slave of a wealthy industrialist who tested dildos on him at night because he is a little thong throwing faggot who i will never forgive for kissing my dream girl at 21st on saturday because he likes it up the bum

And then I had my tute and went home.

As you can see, EMO WEEK 2005 is over and my blog has returned to it's normal, slightly emo format. I also have given it a brand spanking new template which looks really generic and crappy now but which I will twiddle with in the next few days until my blog is the best looking thing since Stephen Hawkings


... twiddle? is that a word?

The pain continues on EMO WEEK 2005, with a special emo audio interview I recorded yesterday with former Opposition Leader and ocassional emo Mark Latham


My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

He was late so I cut myself



Download the mp3 emo here (link may die like a cutter who goes too far in a week or so)

Or the .zip emo file here

i wrote a poem cause textual expression is the only way of ridding myself of the depression of life, art is the only cure for the meloncholy that pervades my soul

it's called CMP

CMP
an emo poem by tommy

breathing

eating

sleeping

cutting

the pain heals like a bandaid
plugging my tears like a... plug

but cutting my arms

my wrists

my thighs

it wasn't enough
cutting was the solution and the problem
the depression sunk in like a fat girl in a pool
i had to find a new way
a new way to free myself from hell
so i took the knife

and i cut my penis

art is pain