Tuesday, October 31

Guide To The Wankers - Update

In case you're still curious, here is a link to archived versions of the Werribee Wanker's MySpaces. Good for a point laugh.

Monday, October 30

God Squad Activate!

Broadcast live from your local school every single weekday, it's....




Starring....


John Howard!

Jesus!

The Great Prophet Muhammad!


And James Hong as Sonny!



You hear about this folks? Youhearaboutthisone?

A $90 million scheme aimed at funding 'grief counselling and spiritual guidance' for school children has been introduced by the Federal Government. The scheme (such a bad word) would provide about $20,000 bucks for each school to spend on a chaplain of their choice, provided they are deemed satisfactory by the Gov.

Rrrright.

Because it totally addresses the problem. I mean, putting aside that whole, overrated 'Seperation of Church and State' and 'No Federal Funding for Religion' thing, there's just not enough access to free religious guidance. There's no such thing as free churches or Mosques or Temples. /hillsong joke./ These poor kids are starving for the Good Word. Have you ever tried to find a copy of the Koran in South-West Sydney? Or a Bible in Baulkham Hills? It's crazy, man.

And it will be totally useful. There's no possible way to spend $90 million better in the Australian Education System. There's no textbook shortages or lack of teachers in country towns. That's all just un-Australian propaganda. Kids don't need books, they need values! The great Aussie values that have made this country great, like democracy, and mateship and freedom of religio-... Oh.

And kids will totally use it. Screw the professionally trained psychological counselling they already have free access to. When their parents divorce and they think it's their fault, or their best friend calls them names behind their back, kids need to be told that 'God works in mysterious ways'. Cut your wrists? That's the infidels fault! Hey Little Jimmy, I hear you're having impure thoughts about your male best mate! Guess what, you're going to Hell! Wheeeeeeeee!!!


Luckily, Jimmy's spiritual counsellor had given him a poster of Jesus.


And don't think I don't know what I'm talking about here. I went to a Christian school, and I know that kids always went to old Reverend Carrick before they went to the much younger, much more accessible school counsellor. I don't know how the Good Rev had time to trim his beard, what with all the kids lined up outside his office for spiritual guidance.

And if I know kids, they'll love to talk about puberty, sex and emotions with the closest thing to the God almighty himself that they know. This is gunna ROCK!

And it will totally work in public schools. Especially in the outer suburbs. You know, those schools with about 8 different religions? I can't wait for Marrickville High to spend their $20k on the world's first MinisterImamRabbiLesbian. I'm sure that will go down a treat.

You know a better way to spend $90 million bucks?

Give the 3.5 million or so Aussie kids of school age twenty-five dollars and seventy-one cents. I'm pretty sure you''ll end a lot more of their worries with a fresh twenty dollar note than you will with a guy telling them they got raped because they looked like 'uncovered meat'.

I got your spiritual guidance right here, Government.

....



(I pointed to my crotch)

Thursday, October 26

Tommy's Guide To The Wankers

If you haven't heard of the DVD floating around from a Melbourne school, that shows a young girl blowing a few guys (consensually) before getting her hair set on fire (non-consensually) and being pee'd on by the guys afterwards (presumably to put out the fire), well... you're probably reading about important things. But here's a clip of the video from Today Tonight anyway.

Now, there's nothing Aussies love more than a witch-hunt, so the alleged MySpace addresses of the boys starring in the DVD have been bouncing around the net. And coincidentally, there's nothing I love more than taking the piss out of MySpaces.

I'm writing this on Thursday because I have a feeling they might get taken down or made private soon. So, I took lots of pictures.

(Ten minutes after Tommy wrote that line, the MySpaces were all deleted. Tommy then predicted that he would receive a lapdance from Elisha Cuthbert. That prediction is still pending.)

There's three MySpaces to take apart - Boofa, Eman and Angelini. Yes, those are boys names.

Let's take them in order of dickery. Here's Boofa's MySpace.



can you find the hidden message? clue: it's 'bang'


And here's his message to us all.



To which his friend, and alleged video co-star Eman replied...




To which the English language replied...




Let's take a look at the third alleged (notice how I keep saying alleged? That's because I can't afford a lawyer) video star, Angelini.

big text, for a big wanker

His MySpace seems pretty harmless, as long as you ignore this picture in his photo album.


dude where's my balls?

That's Boofa from before, on the right, in the world's tightest jeans. Seriously, how did he even get his dick out to pee on the girl? Does he have a catheter? Is that what's made the wet spot?

I also love this comment on Angelini's MySpace :


How was my weekend? Oh. Pretty good. Just stole a girl's clothes and threw them into the Werribee River, then we set her hair on fire with an aerosol can. Wanna go see a movie?

Here's a comment from Angelini himself on another friend's MySpace.


angelini posing with a bottle of galliano/giant glass dildo


In light of the fact he wants to 'shit in ur fukin mouf kunt lol', I reckon the girl got off pretty lightly with just a golden shower.

But enough about Angelini, let's go back to Eman for a moment. Short for Emanuelle. Here's his profile.

hey dude let's take a photo for your myspace doing Blue Steel, nobody's ever thought of that before

And here's his interests.



And if that's photo didn't convince you that he's a bit off, he's got a raging one for Ricky Muscat from Idol. Who is a guy. And can't even sing. What a homo. Dean is much hotter.

In most cases, the worst thing about these sites isn't their dicky profiles or love for male Idols. It's the fact they have so many hot, 16-year old girls wanting to bone them even AFTER the video was out. Seriously, if you want proof of Beaten Housewive Syndrome, look no further than these two:


Here's an idea Nikki. Next time you try to blame the media for your mates assaulting a girl on video, stop looking so damn hot. Seriously, you're like a pseudo-Asian Holly Valance and I just can't bring myself to insult you for your fucked-up comment, you stupid slut oh there we go I did it.

But as I look through these now-deleted MySpaces, I kinda feel a bit of sympathy for these guys. After all, I don't really know if they were the ones who did the dodgy deeds. And while standing around watching a chick get her hair set on fire is still just as horrible, maybe these guys aren't entirely to blame.

After all, children are the product of society. 16 year olds who wear blue pants so tight they restrict blood flow to the schlong, which they then use to pee on a chick, are still 16 year-olds. They're impressionable. They see videos on YouTube, Jackass on TV and German porn on their computers and think, hey, that's pretty cool. Maybe these guys are the real victims.

Or, maybe they're just a bunch of wankers.

Yeah.

They're wankers.


I'll let Dani, a commenter on Eman's MySpace, take us out.



Yes Dani. I hope in they all get a bruise. Peace out.




UPDATE 31/10 - You can check out the archived versions of the Wanker's MySpace's here!

Wednesday, October 25

Tommy's Requires Validation

In my last year of uni, I did a Screenwriting subject. The way I figured, every pretentious media tosspot has a script they carry around, so I'd make one of my own. It was called 'Relegated', and if you've seen The Office, I kind of ripped it off. The main character is a women's local rugby league coach, a guy by the name Joe Maguire (no relation to jerry lol). Like David Brent from The Office, he's one of those... loveable wankers. Completely arrogant and self-centred, but he's so pathetic that it's endearing. Think John Howard.

Basically, it's a post-modern story of redemption using the backdrop of suburban Australia to make a wider point about the frailty of success. It's also an excuse for Tommy to put swear words like 'shithouse' in a uni assignment and get away with it.

Anyway, the reason I'm talking about it one year after I handed it in for marking is that it's always bugged me. I thought it was decent enough for a credit, maybe a distinction if the marker liked it more. But I got a lousy Pass. Sure, P's = Degrees, but I'm convinced the reason it didn't get higher marks was because my tutor and marker was:

  • a) flaming
  • b) an Australian film-maker, and therefore only partial to 'coming of age' stories and relationship pieces set in the most boring places ever
  • c) hates Rugby League because the shorts aren't tight enough

And that's what bugs me. So if you still want to read it knowing that, you can read it here. It's 13 pages (script pages though, so there's barely any text or description) so if you're bored at work/home/prison, give it a look.

Then mark me.

Mark me hard

Monday, October 23

The Holy Trinity

I always struggle to write Monday blogs. I could quite easily just write about some boring politics stuff, like Carl Scully being a lying tool, but... nobody would really care. And I'd like to post about boobs too, to make sure that I sent the punters home happy, but it's difficult (I was going to say hard) to find a good angle. I can't just like, chuck a really hot picture of some boobs on my site in a desperate excuse for hits.



lol psych


But today, I found a story that solved both problems.

Porn star demands equal time from Leno

Porn star and California gubernatorial candidate Mary Carey, following the lead of Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger's Democratic opponent, demanded on Friday that Jay Leno give her equal time on his TV show.

Schwarzenegger, who is seeking a second term, made an appearance on NBC's "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno" earlier this month, prompting Democrat Phil Angelides to complain he also deserved airtime.

The star of "Boobsville Sorority Girls" and "Cheerleader School" is running for governor as a write-in candidate and said her name was among the top search terms on Google -- proving she had the popularity to win. She said her request to be on the show was denied.



Yes, Boobs + Politics. Porno boobs too, so they jiggle less. It's the Perfect Storm.


Reason #484923 why Democracy beat Communism


I just love her justification for getting equal representation in the media - she's one of the top Google search terms. In light of this, Screech from Saved By The Bell has decided to run for a Senate seat in Nebraska, 'GTA San Andreas Cheats' is running a close second in a Mayoral race in England, and the next President of Guatemala is 'anal creampies'.

I just hope this doesn't start a trend of Boob Politics down here. The last Aussie politician to have boobs was Latham, and looked what happened to him. Luckily, Kim Beazley's lost a few kilos and Julia Gillard is flatter than an eleven year old Taiwanese girl, or else Labor would be screwed.

Anyway, good luck to her. She's gotta be more qualified than Arnie at least.

Friday, October 20

I Am Not A Hypocrite

If I hadn't put a Blog Boycott on North Korea a week ago, I'd probably link you to this article here. And then I'd probably quote the first paragraph of the article, for those of you who can't be arsed clicking on a link. It would probably look something like this.


North Korean leader Kim Jong Il expressed regret about his country's nuclear test to a Chinese delegation and said Pyongyang would return to international nuclear talks if Washington backs off a campaign to financially isolate the country, a South Korean newspaper reported Friday.

And then, if I like, hadn't totally Blogcotted Kim Jong-il, I'd probably put a picture of him here with a really racist caption. Something really cliche and predictable, but still controversial enough to be kinda funny. Something like...


orrr me so solllyyy



But I can't do any of that. So I just won't post today.

Wednesday, October 18

Video Post V - The Deadening

So Tommy, can you think of anything to blog about?

I sure can't Phillip

Why don't you just post links to videos?

That's a terrific idea Samantha


Ladies and Gentleman, I give you The Little Superstar, Bollywood's coolest midget. And also herpes.

Hey, wouldn't it be sweet if The Little Superstar bitchslapped someone?

Man re-enacts Scratchie ticket win for cameras. Man wins another 250,000 during re-enactment. Man cries. Man is teased by his friends. Man hires someone to cry for him.

If you watch Prison Break, this video will make you laugh. If you don't watch Prison Break, you'll be wondering why the guy from Prison Break is acting all faggy.

Hey, apparently there's this new movie coming out with this guy named Borat. It's totally underground, I'm pretty sure I'm the first person to ever like him. Here's a deleted scene from said-totally-underground movie, where Borat goes to the supermarket.

Let's Paint and Exercise TV! What?

Dog bites man. Cat eats mouse. Cow rapes farmer.

Kid is traumatised after a teabagging.

Ok, they tried to penetrate him with a banana too, but that's not as funny. Unless it was a clown.


Who said anything about a banana?


News blooper. Check out what's in the box the policeman carries. Hint: It's a giant dildo.

Door prank backfires. IN THE FACE.

Continuing today's theme of Indian midgets and/or door pranks, another door prank. Some dudes remove a glass pane from a shopping centre door and record people pushing air.

A 720 degree DUNK!! I don't wanna get all host of Sportscenter, but BOO YA!

Tony Blair sings 'Should I Stay or Should I Go' by The Clash. Still makes more sense than George Bush.

Dude scares his kid by yelling THE MONNSTTERRRR!!!


And that kid was me.



Tuesday, October 17

A Reply from Kim (not the fat one)

Well, I've bagged out two Kims this past week on my blog. One of them had the decency to reply with a video.

If Kim Jong-il is anything, it's polite. Also, when he shouts out loud - storms happen. Lets go! Lets go!

Monday, October 16

All The Way With LB..... Tommy...

'It's Time'

'I Like Ike'

'Make Love, Not War'

'The Ladder Of Opportunity'

'It's Hammer Time.'


Whether you agree with the sentiments or not, these are examples of famous political slogans. A good slogan can fire-up your supporters, inspire the undecided and sway your opposition. In just a few words, they can articulate exactly what a man or a party stands for. Jimmy Carter's re-election campaign was ruined the moment Ronald Reagan asked 'Are you better off now than you were four years ago?'. When Gough Whitlam said 'It's time.', he captured Australian's hope for a better society. It's politics 101, the simplest, smartest thing anybody can do.


Which is why Kim Beazley can't.


Which two words does Kim think will win him the election? 'Howard Lies'? 'Stronger Economy'? 'COSTELLO LOL!@#'? No. Kim is above those old, uncool words. Kim's resting his hopes on the ultimate insult, two words so vicious, so concise that they could very well destroy John Howard where he stands. Take a look at these quotes, all from the one press conference.


'When it comes to blame shifting, John Howard is the master blaster. John Howard is the master blaster of blame shifting in Australian politics...

'...that’s what I mean about the master blaster of blame shifting.'

'What John Howard is actually saying to the Government of NSW, as he does his master blaster act on blame shifting...'


OH NO HE DID-NT

Daymmn Girl he be droppin BOMBS! You ain't seen no beats so tight!!

A black person


I like to think I know a lot of words, but... master blaster? I mean, I get it if you're talking about a name for a stereo or something, but how do you come up with that when talking about Australian politics? Is he trying to say Howard is really cool? Or did he just mispronounce masturbator?


Ooo-waaa the waa mr speaker rock this bitch


And it's not just exclusive to Kim. It's infested the whole damn party. This is from a Kevin Rudd media statement.

'Downer has got a responsibility to look at our long-term national interests in the South Pacific rather than his short-term political interests which is to sound hairy-chested to the audience back home.'

'Well, Mr Downer is using all sorts of hairy-chested language...'

'Mr Downer seems to think that if he sounds hairy-chested and beat his chest in the air and behaves like a schoolyard bully, that that is going to make things better.'



Zuh?

I like you Kev, even though you are a vampire, but 'Hairy Chested Beating' sounds more like the name to a marginally-successful all-male porno than it does a catchy soundbite on National Nine News. Isn't saying he's got a hairy chest giving Alexander Downer a compliment, seeing as how he's the only Minister who can use both the Men's and Women's bathrooms at Parliament House?


Though, even if they sound stupid, master-blaster and hairy-chested beating pale in comparison to the slogan President Bush is using to help his party in the mid-term elections this year...




I think it needs work



So, in summation, if you can't say it in three words without mentioning chest hair or 1980's reggae phrases, just don't say it at all.



And bring back Latham.

Saturday, October 14

Cooking with... Cookies



Have you ever wondered if the new Cookie Dough Kit Kat Chunky's actually have... cookie dough in them? Hambo over at MakingGirlsRun put it to the test.

Here is Part One

And Part Two - The Victory

Friday, October 13

A letter to Kim-Jong-il


Heya Kimmy,

You probably don't know me. My name is Tommy, I live in Sydney and every now and then I write a blog. You've probably heard of it, it's like totally the biggest site on the net.

Anyway, this whole nuclear test thing is troubling me a bit. I mean, you're the nutjob leader of a nutjob nation, but that doesn't mean you have to act like one. Is this all because of Team America?

And I don't want to have to do this, but I kinda like the world as it is now. All the bad stuff happens in countries on the other side of the globe, I can't pronounce the names of all the civilian casualties so it's not so bad, and they can make cool movies about the bad stuff a few years from now. But a nuke? World War 3 on the Korean Penninsula? Fighting China, home of kung-fu? Nuh-uh. That's just not cool Kim. Not cool.

So Kim, I'm putting you and your country on a boycott. A blog boycott. A blog-cott. You're probably thinking to yourself 'So? What the frig is a blog-cott, and how come I think in fluent English?'

Well Kim, a blog-cott means I won't be making any blogs about North Korea. Not even South Korea, that's how angry I am. But worst of all, I'm not even going to make any jokes about how Koreans eat dogs. Yeah, you heard me. No talking about the 'Man-Eat-Dog' world of Korean diplomacy. No jokes about how so many people starve in North Korea because they eat so 'paw-ly'. Not even this one:

How can you tell if you have a stupid dog?
It chases parked cars!
How can you tell if you have a stupid, Korean dog?It chases parked cars! And then you eat it!


Champagne dog comedy. But I'm serious Kim. Serious like a fox. A fox before you eat it because you think it's a dog. No more Korea jokes. No more Korea blogs. And especially no jokes about your stupid hair.

Except this one.





Love,

Tommy

Wednesday, October 11

Bushfires - The Silent Killers

Let me start out by saying that Bushfires aren't funny. In fact, if you Google 'Bushfire Comedy', all you get is this YouTube video of a guy shooting a firework near his crotch. And while that video is funny, it really has nothing to do with Bushfires, unless he set his pubes alight. In which case, Bushfires are fucking hilarious.


Not even Groucho Marx glasses can make bushfires funny


My favourite thing about Bushfires (what) is that the media act like they're some big surprise. Like living in an arid country with 40+ degree summer days and houses parked alongside national parks with gutters choc-full of dry vegetation is a recipe for snowstorms or something.

Then there's always the guy whose backyard is a bigger fire hazard than a chemical factory in an action movie, talking about how 'he never thought it would happen in [suburb]', or the news reader talking about how the fire 'took this small town by surprise', like it sneaked up at night in a black Tarago with camo paint on its face.


Bushfires suck, but they sure do look pretty


There are three certainties in Australian summers.

1. Cricket being on way too much. Come on folks, I can't be the only person who, upon hearing terrorists wanted to poison the Ashes teams, thought 'Hmm....'. Can I get an amen? No? Stop typing?

2. Bushfires. If you live in New South Wales, another certainty is Rural Fire Service Commissioner Phil Koperberg being on every television news broadcast every night. Seriously, that dude is on more boxes than Colin Farrel.

3. Everybody talking about how wonderful those 'Elvis' fire fighting helicopters are.


Koperberg snacks on his favourite treat - Glasses


Bushfire Season on TV is like the Bathurst 1000. You could replay last years, and nobody would notice. Well, except the bits when they cut to Peter Brock in the crowd. You'd probably have to edit them out.

Now, I don't want you to think I'm just bitching and making poor-taste jokes about Brockie. I have solutions. Without further ado, Tommy's Seven-Point Guide To The Bushfire Season. Why seven? And why are only three funny? How about you stop asking questions?


  1. Don't live near a national park. If you like nature so much, why don't you fuck off?
  2. Make friends with firefighters. Put them in your MySpace 'Top 8', so they know you think they're cool.
  3. Start random fires near your neighbour's houses during the colder months, in order to make sure they know what to do come summer.
  4. Jetpacks.
  5. Put asbestos in your family's breakfast cereal. That way, your insides are flame retardent.
  6. Collect and cage rare native animals. When the bushfire comes, throw them at the fire as a sacrifice, so the fire knows you respect it.
  7. Live near Phil Koperberg (NSW Residents only)



Thanks for reading, and remember - if your house burns down this summer, send me a guest blog.

Monday, October 9

Damn it Chloe, it's Clobberin' Time

I only geek out over a handful of things. Professional wrestling, Lost, 24, West Wing, X-Men movies, James Bond movies, comic books, World War 2, politics, The Office and Grand Theft Auto games. See, only a few things. It's not called TommyIsCOOLDotCom for nothin', hip cats.

But imagine my surprise, imagine my geek-icity when somebody combined two of my favourite things. No, not Grand Theft Auto: West Wing, I'm talkin' about 24: The COMIC BOOK.






It's called 24: One Shot, and it's.... actually pretty crap. Whoever had the bright idea to make a comic book out of a one-hour television show whose gimmick relies on being a one-hour television show is pretty stupid. Instead of tense, fast-paced thrillrides where Jack Bauer races against the clock to stop a terrorist/bomb/mountain lion, we get occassionally bolded words! And close-ups!





It's set before Season 1 of the show, on Jack's first day at the job at CTU Los Angeles. Fans of the show will recognise some faces, like:

Jack Bauer











Tony Almeda











And some black guy who gets killed straight away












As you can tell, the art is pretty good. Jack looks like Jack. He also bears a stunning resemblance to Kiefer Sutherland. Except in this panel, where he looks like he has Downs Syndrome.




The story involves Jack having to accompany a former Irish Republican Army hot chick/terrorist to.... fucked if I know. It was too confusing. Some kind of meeting. Then their chopper gets shot down, the first of three choppers to be shot down in this single comic book. And then Wolverine pops up for some reason.


Not even Wolverine's mutant healing factor could beat Jack Bauer

The story continues, and then some other, less hot bitch with Swedish milkmaid hair arrives, and then Jack combines his body with a lady who can't close her mouth and shoots the first bitch.

Take that, fourty years of women's rights progress


Then he, Wolverine and The Avengers travel to space to finally destroy Dark Phoenix once and for all.

This comic was shit. It's not even worth me writing a closing statement, so I'll just get Matt, prominent guest blogger, and co-creator of The Derek Granger Chronicles (coming soon to TommyIsCoolDotCom) to do the honours.

In the tradition of truly woeful comic books like 'Jurassic Park: Lex Shows Timmy her Dilophosaurus', the unanticipated crossover 'The Punisher Lays Waste to Barbie's Magical Dream House' and almost every edition of 'The Fantastic Four', 24: One Shot is like very much like a cheap Taiwanese whore - it's ugly, you can't understand most of it, and most of the time that you were supposed to be enjoying yourself you were just praying you'd make it through the ordeal without catching sight of a huge cock.

Too true bro...


Too true.

Saturday, October 7

A blog Blog

Ok. The blog looks a little different. I had to kill the funky old look because Blogger is all fancy now and the old look was just too damn sexy for it to handle.

I'll probably mess around with the current template over the next few days, and I'll be swanking up the archives on the right a bit more too, so you can find old blogs easier.

And yes, SKELETON MAN LIVES

Friday, October 6

Fatty Update

According to a hit I got the other day, if you Google 'videos of fat people doing big poos in toilets', I'm the third result.

You mention Casey Donovan in ONE blog...

Thursday, October 5

Tommy Is A Renovator's Delight

Ever felt like property?

Me and my Dad are moving to a new place near a golf club (an actual Clubhouse, not a four iron), and my sister is moving to Little Seoul (Eastwood), and so we're selling the family home. This morning, some tosspot real estate agent guy in a white shirt got given a tour of the place, and it sounds lame and emo, but I almost felt like a piece of the house itself. Mainly because I never got introduced to the agent, I just sat there, gave a compulsory 'hey' and went back to looking up pictures of Molly Meldrum.

Well Kieran, this is our upstairs study. It's built on top of the garage, and it's pretty spacious. There's a bedroom attached, and sitting in that desk in the middle is Tommy, he's an extension we built 22 years ago. Inbuilt plumbing, not the biggest but a fair bit of room.

Open your mouth a bit son

See, you could easily fit a walk-in wardrobe there. Room for two, I'd say.

Could do with a new coat of paint

Feel the heat coming from his crotch, Kieran. He's born to breed this one.

Yes, it is a bit warm.

That's the reverse cycle.

Aah.


I'M A HUMAN BEING DAMN IT!!


A HUMAN BEING!!!

Tuesday, October 3

Tommy vs Samuel Gordon Stewart II - The Chicken Wars

Now don't get me wrong, while my blog's readership has certainly grown over the last year or so (especially when I write about Big Brother), I realise I'm not exactly writing for the masses here. It's a small sub-culture of my mates who I guilt into reading the blog by always mentioning it, people who find it accidentally by clicking 'Next Blog', Mitch, and the lovely people redirected from Grods. And maybe Happy Healthy Harold. I don't know.

Part of the reason for my small-like-tom-cruise audience is because, aside from following a link at Grods or a Google search for 'thong kicking faggot', it's pretty tricky to find my blog on the cyberwebnet. And, I don't exactly write about topics of general interest. Well, aside from the Boobs blogs at least.


did somebody say gratuitous


And I'm pretty cool with that. I could get more hits by getting more links, but that's a bit of effort and.... no.

I've gotta be honest with you though, it does hurt to see someone like SamuelGordonStewart get a few hundred hits a day, while I'm stuck writing for chronic masturbaters and the unemployed. Don't want to toot my own horn, but I'd like to think I'm writing more interesting stuff than this. It's Samuel's latest blog, a fascinating story about ordering fast food and looking at people creepily.

Here is he describing some 'loonies' near the public phones...
On my way I passed a phone booth which was occupied by two teenage girls, one of them was standing right in front of the phone, whilst the other one was standing next to her talking on her mobile phone…neither of them were using the payphone!

/double take

LOITERING!@ How dare they hang around public pay phones. I mean, if this was 1996 and every person in Australia over the age of 7 didn't own a mobile phone, they might be getting in someone's way! What if someone didn't have to make an important phone call?! They have to be locked up. Zero tolerance. Strike three, phone hogging bitches.

After running out of excuses to stare at the girls near the phone, Sambo decides to get himself some lunch. He takes a number at Kingsley Chicken, and excitement ensues...

When I arrived at Kingsley’s Chicken I got ticket number “01″ from the machine...

Ooo, tell me more.

I waited as 98 and 99 went past, and then they reached “00″…the girl who was serving at the time called out in a rather thick accent something which sounded like “num-bo”…I’m sure she meant “number oh”, although why she couldn’t be clear about it and call out “zero” is beyond me.


Gosh, I know whenever anybody speaks to me in a thick accent, I dash home to the blog. Today, some bitch had the hide to tell me 'her 'ouse' was on fira'. lol. Dumb bitch.

Then came my turn, a young bloke, possibly Inidian, called out my number


POSSIBLY Indian! He may also have been plausibly Sri Lankan. Even conceivably Pakistani. This entire blog might even be ostensibly shit.


Hello to you to today sir I am calling from ANZ Bank


Me: “Could I get six chicken croquets and a jumbo chips please?”
Him: “Six crockets and the jumbo chips?”
I should point out that, being roughly based on a dutch food of the same name, the correct pronounciation of “croquets” is “crow-kays”, not “crockets” as the people at Kingsley’s seem to call them.


Yes, you should point that out. Why don't you write a blog about the Dutch pronounciation of 'insipidly boring'? And more to the point - what the fuck is a croquet?

After battling with the server over whether or not he wanted gravy, Sam finally pays up.

Finally it sunk in, and he informed me of the total price, I gave him some money, and he gave me the correct change…but it wasn’t over


Wow, you certainly don't write any more words than you have to, Tommy said, writing in each letter consecutively after the other on his keyboard, ensuring to hit space after each new word. I can't believe you made half a paragraph out of 'I paid for my freaky Dutch chicken.'

It got worse…he then turned around, got a cup, poured out a drink and put it on the bench in front of me…


Dear god.

Him: “Here is a free drink” (or something to that effect…he was mumbling…he didn’t tell me what drink it was though…would have been too bad if I had accepted it and been allergic to it, they might need a lawyer then)
Me: “I DON’T WANT…(mumbling)”


Geez Sam, what with all these hypothetically Indian people and thick accents, you don't know what could be in that cup. It might be Anthrax, or some kind of artificially sweetened soda beverage. Seriously, Sambo is the only person in the world who could suck the fun out of receiving a free drink.

I had already explicitly declined a drink twice, so why he thought I would want one is beyond me. A few minutes later one of the cooking people brought my order over, I thanked her for it and left…leaving the drink right there on the counter.


FUCKIN' FIGHT THE POWER MAN



The rest of my journey was sensible, and when I checked the radio, Glenn Wheeler on 2CC was asking people about commonly misspelled and mispronounced words, one of my personal hobby horses.


Wow, what an excellent way to end an action-packed day. You know, I've got a few hobby horses of my own. One of them is not acting like a 60-year old woman and using words like 'sensible' and 'hobby horses'.

It looks like this will be the first blog post I’ve sent by mail to anyone in a while…I wonder if Kingsley’s Civic Manager will reply?


Oh for sure man. The chicken shop manager will drop everything to attend to the customer bitching about pronounciation and receiving free stuff. He might even possibly fire the Indian who dared soil your chicken with his Eastern black magic.




I'm not bitter.

Monday, October 2

Happy, Healthy Harold - Behind The Puppet

If you went to a public primary school in Australia, chances are you had a visit from Happy Healthy Harold every year or so. If you were an animatronic giraffe that advised kids on how to eat well and cope with peer pressure in the mid-1990's, chances are you are Happy Healthy Harold, in which case omg omg happy healthy harold reads my blog

Happy Healthy Harold, or Triple H, was (is?) the puppet face of a scheme called Life Education, who drove their vans to schools, filled them with children and locked the doors for an hour or so. Visits from Harold were quite often the highlight of a school year, except that time in Year 4 when some of the girls in my class accused our substitute teacher of hitting on them. You rocked, Mr. Matis.

It might sound stupid, but the visits from Harold left an indelible mark on my memory. I can still feel the rough red carpet that ran all the way up the walls; can still hear the noise animatronic Harold's eyes made when they blinked; can still see his one lazy eye that blinked slower than the other; can still taste Mr. Matis lips on mine. It wasn't every day that you had a visit from a talking giraffe that popped out of the back wall of a caravan, after all.



The Pedo Dungeon


Though, Harold wasn't always a robot. Back in the dark ages (Year Two), Harold was just a glorified sock puppet, controlled by one of Harold's 'friends' who mysteriously disappeared just before Harold's disease-infested cotton body lurched out of the black curtain. It was only around 1995 that Life Education received some extra money from the Government/Harold's Estate and decided to get all Jurassic Park and splurge on an animatronic robot so advanced that it could not only lean forward and back, but turn its head and blink. Of course, the first time he visited my school, animatronic Harold got his head stuck in the door.

Not so Healthy now, are you?


Harold and his first wife


I'm good mates with Tammy, the half-naked female model (well, she was fully naked, she just didn't have any skin on one side of her body) that Harold's helpers used to point out basic anatomy, like the kidney, the lung and the glow-in-the-dark titty. Trust me, being Tammy's mate isn't as cool as it sounds, especially when you take her to a restaurant and can tell when she needs to shit ten minutes before she does.



Tammy getting felt up by a kid. The slut.


Anyway, you mightn't know this, but Harold passed away a few years ago. It was in the papers, but nobody really knew the real story. So, knowing my blog had readership in the teens, Tammy passed along this. It's a distressing read, so take care as you explore....





(thanks to matt)


Sunday, 3 July, 1995
I can't quite stand the thought of another week hanging around those little shits, showing them body parts, pretending to be a robot so they dont flip out about the fact that I'm a talking fucking giraffe. It hurts my neck to be that stiff and unanimated. Pretending I was a sock was much easier, plus I got to have someone's hand up my ass most of the day.

Monday, 4 July, 1995
I got way too wasted last night, I woke up in a shopping trolley outside a McDonalds. The parents there gave me such harsh looks. Fuck them. I just lit another cigarette and tried to move on. But they just kept judging me with their eyes. Not for long, though. It's hard to judge people when you're ducking whisky bottles flung at you by an abusive giraffe.

Thursday, 7 July, 1995
Another hard day at the 'office'. I swear to God or Allah or some fuckin' thing that if they can't fix the air conditioning in that goddamn bus I'm going to heave a dump on top of the desk at the next board meeting. They just don't understand the kind of pressure I'm under.

Saturday, 9 July, 1995
That Bec chick who does the talking in the bus with me this month finally buckled under the weight of my mighty sexual attraction. Let's just say this - I like chicks with small hands, they make my 'neck' look bigger.

Sunday, 10 July, 1995
The stupid big wigs at the foundation want to talk to me at 9 tomorrow. This had better be the pay rise I've been askin for. Or at least a bigger stable.

Thursday, 14 July, 1995
ths has been the bigest fuckin bender of my life i rmember bein in the lion cage at tha zoo callin them queens of the jugle. i thk i have lost a leg

Sydney Morning Herald, Morning Edition
Saturday, 16 July, 1995

Happy Healthy Harold has been found dead this morning in his Life Education Van outside Penrith Public School. Police believe the children's education mogul ended his own life by slamming his neck in the closing 'Here's Harold!' door, his death caused by a combination of severe vascular trauma and brain asphyxiation. Officers at the scene also reported a number of as-yet-unexplained defensive wounds and slashes on his body.


H. H. Harold had recently been placed on disciplinary suspension for the alleged rape of a young woman in his organisation. Lead Investigator John Dooley said he had never seen a higher blood alcohol content in a wild animal.

Harold is survived by his widow, Tammy.