The Goood Life?
A guest blog by REDACTED
It’s that part of the semester again. All the mature age students are pumped up and us lazy regulars are slowly accepting the fact that we might have to do some work now. As an education student, our practicum placements represent only a small part of our third year at uni. This semester, we are supposed to do 6 days with 5 lessons across those days. For each lesson you have to make lesson plans, sequences of learning and lesson evaluations. All in all, a pain in my lazy ass. Such a predicament is added to by the fact that I have been placed this semester to teach Year 6 at one of the richest, most exclusive Sydney all boys Primary Schools.

The most major thing I realized during prac was the difference seen between this particular school and any other Primary school I’ve spent time at. I realize it first when I’m driving up the road on the first morning. I slowly roll my ’84 Civic past a line of parents dropping their little brats off, looking as each car I drive past has another 10 grand attached to the price tag. Beamers, Jag’s, MG’s and four Lexus’ 4WD’s that were identical but for the colour. There were even a couple of freakin Bentleys. The Staff carpark is similarly arranged except for a vintage Volvo and the Art teachers Vespa. I carefully park my Civic around the corner and walk the rest of the way. While my suit might present me as a straight up and down kinda guy, seeing my bomb isn’t going to instill any feelings of professionalism in either the students or the staff.


The new Bentley, for when being a massive prick just isn't good enough.

Dropping in the Staff Room before school starts the gap between reality and this school grows even more. I glance at one of the kid’s canteen menus. What other Primary school has sushi and smoked salmon sandwiches on its menu? The staff fridge does have half a case of Coopers green though. The bell goes and I head for the classroom.

My master teacher is an old man who started at the school 37 years ago. He lives onsite, has no car and basically never leaves the grounds. I figure this kind of imprisonment cannot be healthy. The kids seem to like him though so I’ll give him the benefit. He takes me on tours or the grounds while the students are at Art, Music, Italian, PE, Drama, Computer, Science or Library lessons. I discover that he only teaches Math’s and English and so has the students only half of everyday.

When touring the school, I can see great similarities between him and Johnny Depps ‘Willy Wonka’. He gets on heaps well with the children but avoids most of the other staff and it seems he doesn’t like adults company, rarely going into the staff room. He also tries to present almost prepared facts about the school in casual conversation and then forgets he’s said them and re-tells me on the way back. “We had Eddie Jones here last month for a bit of extra rugby training” “This is our new library mural, each student in the school placed a piece in the mosaic” “A couple of weeks ago we had Eddie Jones here. He did some extra training with the boys.” He seems a bit stupid but apparently he spent 5 years tutoring the PM, the GG and the vice PM’s sons back in the 70’s.


An artist's impression of Eddie Jones

We’re back in the class and I’m doing some marking. Use ‘among’ in a sentence. “I am among poor people.” I feel so sorry for you buddy. Having to spend time with all these other kids whose Daddy doesn’t earn as many millions as yours does. The kids name was Robin and he was as poncy as his name suggests.

Flicking through the newsletter at lunch waiting for my turn to go on playground duty, I discover that the exclusivity of such a school brings opportunities we don’t even get at uni. A reminder to all students that Athletics, Rifle Shooting and Fencing Photos are on next week. Archery practice this afternoon has been postponed till Thursday. Thanks to Dom and Chaz from The Chaser for running our Trivia night last week.

Ahhhhhh. It drives me mental. These little bastards will never, never, never land in reality. The privilege gained cause their old man runs a sweatshop in Ghana means they don’t have to worry about normal things. Kids in the playground only get teased if they go to an inferior sports coaching place or their personal tutor has less references. This is insane. These are kids. Where else to do you see a 5 year old with a tie, a boater and garters to hold his socks at his knees? Where else is a point made of calling a woman Headmaster instead of Headmistress? This school is crazy.

Although,

It is nice getting called Sir.

Why I Only Shop At Stores With Wooden Coat Hangers - A Guest Blog, by Beth.

Yep, you read that right. It's the first guest blog on TommyIsCool ever by a female (allegedly). Please to make reading this blog which...well... mainly just bags me out. But in a female way. Allegedly.

Tommy is what some may call a man’s man, as in he is gay. Others would say that he is a staunch homophobic with an unblemished record (despite REDACTED' constant requests for a game of 'Gay Chicken').

But there is one thing that can be agreed on by all - Tommy dresses like a hobo with a washing machine.

With his overwhelming lack of collared shirts, Tommy is perpetually caught in a casual cycle of t-shirts and denim, except for the occasions that require a suit, in which case he dusts his one and only Year Ten formal suit off.

(Tommy sez: That is a lie)

So where is it that Tommy shops I hear you ask? Well, on his $30 a week salary we can only guess that it’s somewhere with Super Sales and a section devoted to car tyres. But enough Tommy bashing for the moment.

You callin me unfashionable?

Lets focus on something that gets every shoppers credit card angry- the lame arse policies and sales staff that make up the retail workforce.

We have all had bad experiences with certain shops, namely Myer, Freedom and Telstra. But I will not bore you with the fodder of a woman constantly on edge and taking her frustrations out on unwitting 14 year-olds who still think that work is fun and that time goes so quickly whilst filling shelves.

Fuckers.

I will not complain about the retards at Country Road who, when you try to exchange something because IT IS FUCKING DAMAGED, tell you that they can have it dry cleaned/repaired, instead of giving you a new one. I will not bitch about the lobotomized 50 year-old women at Myer who continue to gossip in groups whilst serving you, taking on the chore of taking your money as if they were gods fucking gift to the world. And that’s even if they serve you at all, half the time you can’t find anyone or they are all “busy” folding, refolding and checking their hair.

Jennifer Hawkins is the face of Myer, or some other excuse to post a picture of Jennifer Hawkins norks

No I won’t go on about it, cos unlike some, I am not a grudge holding, petty person. In recent times, I have become aware of the correlation between clothes and the level of dickheadedness of a guy. This is most intriguing to me, because unlike girls who have only two sub-groups (“Slutty Bitch” and “Prude Bitch Pretending She Isn’t Slutty”), guys can be grouped into numerous sub-sections.

These sub-sections are all marked on a sliding scale of hotness out of 10, arseholeness out of 10, and hot arseness out of 23. Horniness is of course at 10/10 for all guys and therefore not included in the meta-analysis of men.

The Clothes Rankings

1. Industrie polo shirt with the collar up and Industrie printed on the back of the collar - Wog.

• Hotness - 0-1/10 depending on the number of jars of grease in his hair
• Arseholeness 0 10/10
• Hot Arseness - Wogs are dirty, no one looks at their arses.

It's sweeettt matte! *Click* Bananas!

2. Colorado Shirt - Their mother was undoubtedly on the shopping trip with them.

• Hotness – 1-5/10 (if wears glasses minus 2 from overall)
• Arseholeness - 0/10 - These guys are really nice, just like door mats
• Hot Arseness - 6-13/23.

They are either plump or bean-pole-like. A happy medium makes for a happy lady friend.

3. T-shirt that says “Vintage” on it – You're looking at a Tommy.

(Tommy sez: Fuck off, I bought two polos last week)

• Hotness - 5-7/10
• Arseholeness 3-5/10, depending on whether you have kicked him or not.
• Hot Arseness - 9-15/23, is highly volatile. Denim shorts the best. Boardies the worst.

The Best Shirt Ever? You Decide.

(yes)

4. Unbranded Polo Shirt – Don’t bother, they are boring, you will contemplate doing stupid things like eating a chair just to see if they react. They won’t.

(Tommy Sez: Shit, they were unbranded)

5. “Polo” Polo Shirt

Hmmmmm, either hot and nice, or hot and thinks they are hot.

• Hotness - 7-9/10
• Arseholeness -2-4/10 or 8-10/10 if they know their hot
• Hot Arseness 17-21/23. HOT

6. Business Shirt - Probably has a job and a car. Go for it.

Guest Blog: Skelton's Tips On Buying Shit

It's GUEST BLOG time, because I'm far too busy to update the blog, what with the coup in Thailand. Here goes...



Greetings ladies and gentlemen!

Firstly, I'm pretty much known as Skelton. I happen to be an old high school budddy of Tommy's. We used to laugh, and play, and talk about girls with long-hair - like Ale...

You know, it is seriously hard to write one of these without just going bananas with scathing personal jokes and attacks. I have no idea how Tommy only does it 83% of the time.

Anyway, rather than get all nostalgic and full of regret (even though we totally should have taken alcohol to Business Studies) let's get on with some sort of Guest Blog type thing.

This was supposed to be a rant - because that's the kind of originality you can expect from someone without anything to say actually worth publishing, but then I realised there probably isn't much to talk about with automobile air fresheners these days after the initial "Why the in the french-fried-Fillet-O-F*** can I not buy a plain old vanilla air freshener instead of having to take a gamble on 'Obsession' or 'Fashion - inspired by CK' ???

Honestly, these things could smell like Toilet Duck that's past it's prime, and you would be none the wiser 'til you bought the damn thing, and your panel van STILL smells like underage sex and marijuana.

Ambi-Pur 'Elegance', to cover up your steamy dumps

So screw that. That's pretty much as far as you can go with air freshener observational humour without making a poo joke... which might happen if this was my mildly amusing debut on the stand-up comedy scene: "Thank God he has a real job," the cosmos sighs.

Nah, I figured I would educate! Give the slobbering masses something to stimulate a bit of brain activity. Perhaps some useful advice for all the people who read Tommy's blog.

Hope you both read this.


Your Parents May Not Have Taught You Everything

You're probably thinking, "Skelton? Sod orf. I AM already familiar with reproduction. My parents told me about this. I didn't learn it in the playground like the Catholic kids had to. I had the 'sex, pregnancy, 'why theres too much paperwork to adopt', erectile dysfunction, and IVF' talk when I was 6! What could you possibly teach me now, without hand-puppets and a soggy rolled-up newspaper?"

Well, you inquisitive little munchikin, I'm glad you asked and only slightly dismayed at the way you asked it: There are things you can take advantage of in this world!

Now I'm not talking about coupons for free meals at Black Stump, unlimited large pizzas for $5.95, or even elderly relatives with dementia.

I'm talking about simple things.

Face it, we live in a materialistic culture; full of capitalism, democracy, positive affirmation, human rights, and all sorts of other buzz words that can make me sound like a uni student who gives a shit and actually thinks that BOTH people care about my opinion AND I can make a difference.

rofflez!!1!eleventy!

Wake up and smell the reality hanging limply on a fence in Redfern (Tommy, you can edit this bit out if you think it's a bit too topical and offensive to all the Aboriginals who can rea... hehehe nevermind).

But it's true - materialism -> consumerism. Our culture is one of pursuit of the almighty dollar, and whilst you already know this... and also know it isn't entirely altruistic, you will pursue economic gain.

Which isn't entirely wrong, so much as vital in this country. You do need money to live and enjoy a less than crappy quality of life.

Your parents, in trying to help you along in this, encouraged you to get good marks in your HSC, and go to university - knowing full well you're really good at the drums, and if you could just practice a bit more you could really make it!

They figure you'll get a "good job" and then they can look at your life, and a framed certificate on the wall and convince themselves that it was ok they didn't spend enough time with you when you were a kid because you turned out OK, and certainly don't have wet dreams about burning the house down while your family sleeps and waking with silent screams in an agony of lonely nothingness.

Or so I hear...


Regardless, while your grand-dad may never have told you all those cool stories from WWII, he probably did tell you "if you're not using it, leave it alone" and "a penny saved is a penny earned".

We'll find the 2nd piece of advice more applicable these days (although that sure was an awkward day at kindy): and there are a few simple rules you can follow to save yourself some cash [without voting Liberal again. Hah! ... I got your political commentary riiiight heeere].

In the interest of balance, Liberal Party Senator Amanda Vanstone likes cheeseburgers

1) Ask for a discount.
It's a simple fact - if you don't ask, you won't get. It doesn't matter what you're buying, the more you are buying of something the more likely you are to get a discount. If a shop assistant likes you enough, they may swipe their employee discount card for you. Obviously not Bunnings or Go-Lo employees though, you're appealing to someones friendliness and good nature - not their empty soul. If it's a smaller business, the server may be the owner or a relative and be happy to give a discount in the interest of return business. It's more applicable to higher cost items: TV's, stereos, etc.

What's that?

... petrol?

Hahahahaha suck a fat one /OPEC.

But seriously, whenever you're buying something... "Can you do any better on the price for me?" will get you something pretty easy half the time. If you're nervous about it, ask once and then accept whatever they offer you.

2) Shop around.
No I don't mean play Bing Lee against JB HiFi in a vicious blood fued until you price match -10% your way to Enter The Dragon on DVD for $7.88 (I still maintain it was worth the 20 mins it took).

I can't believe Bruce Lee ripped off that Mars Bar ad

If your dentist tells you you need $5000 worth of crowns and fillings - go get a 2nd opinion.

If your car is going to need a new gearbox, ring some other places - ask how much they cost, and then get your mechanic to match a lower price.

A quote from someone who knows more about something than you, doesn't mean you can't find someone who knows just as much as they do to screw up their rip-off scheme.

3) Choose the time to buy.
Certain times of year will afford you more leverage to get a deal than other times. Sometimes it can even depend on the weather. For example, no-one shops for cars on rainy-days. If you are on the lot, the salespeople there know you are probably the only customer they are going to see that day. If they can sell you a car they will - even if they have to do some special pricing to do it. If it also happens to be the end of the month, when sales performances in organisations are reviewed and totals tallied - you are even MORE likely to get a desperate salesman who will do you a good deal.

Another example is just to wait for the new model to come out, then buy the previous model - places will be anxious to move older, devalued stock and that helps you out!

4) Smile at people.
Simply being friendly can get you an unasked for discount, a better model for the same price, good and honest advice about a product, or some chick's phone number.

5) Find a friend in the business.
No matter what you think reading books ever did for you, it is totally all about WHO you know, not WHAT you know.

Make friends with an ethnic person who has a large family and you'll pretty much have half a 'network' right there.

Another benefit of making friends with ethnic people

That's pretty much it. Fairly basic financial advice. It all comes down to asking a question or two. I don't have any hot tips on investments... aside from scratchies. The return potential on those puppies is awesome!

Happy spending, you empowered little consumer whores.




Best Regards, Love & Happiness, No Communicable STDs,


Skelton

Tommy Interviews A Worthless Druggo justkidding

So, I was on MSN right. And I was talking to my mate Matt, right (not the one who writes the guest blogs, he's not my mate). And I was like, all like, wow, that's an interesting story. I should like, put that on my blog, cause it's interesting and like, people like things like that.

So, I did. It's about his experience with a little drug called LSD, his trip, and checking out his own package. I was going to format it up and make it all pretty, but I think I like it better as-is.

I'm the one named Tommy.


Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:07 PM):
hello
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:07 PM):
hello
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:08 PM):
please, take a seat
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:08 PM):
/me jumps out window
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:08 PM):
/me rub chin while holding pen
if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:08 PM):
a magic wishing tree
like in the book
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:08 PM):
awesome
ok, let's talk business
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:09 PM):
last saturday, did you or did you not consume some lucy, in the sky, with diamonds
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:09 PM):
yes i did

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:09 PM):
for my lovely lawful readers, describe how one takes LSD
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:09 PM):
LSD comes in a number of forms
most common is a 'tab'. which is basically a small peice of blotter paper with a drop of LSD
most tabs have pretty pictures or patterns on them
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:10 PM):
right
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:10 PM):
(please correct spelling and such for final copy)
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:10 PM):
(of course)
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:11 PM):
other forms are liquid, geltine capsule, or something i forget
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:11 PM):
so you used the tab?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:11 PM):
yes
about .5 cm by .5 cm in size

Harmless primary school stickers.... OR DEADLY DRUG?!

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:11 PM):
and how much did it set you back?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:12 PM):
$20
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:12 PM):
chump change
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:12 PM):
was indeed
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:12 PM):
so you've got your tab, you're $20 short in your wallet, now what
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:12 PM):
we make the trip (LOL!) down to Barwon Heads, to a mates caravan
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:13 PM):
LOLPUN
barwon heads being in fuck-toria for sydney readers
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:13 PM):
arrive at about 6, have some dinner, sit down at 7.00, and place the tab under our tongues
for 30 mins
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:14 PM):
so you just wait for it to absorb, then get rid of the paper?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:14 PM):
one mate threw it out and the rest of us just swallowed it
might as well get our moneys worth

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:14 PM):
then how long did it take to kick in?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:15 PM):
around 40 mins or so after we first put it in our mouths
we were watching a christmas episode of family guy
and suddenly all the animations started looking really shit
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:15 PM):
haha
so it was almost like King Of The Hill?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:15 PM):
like just subtle things about it
similar

The #1 Reason Not To Do LSD

Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:16 PM):
then i noticed on the wall there was an indian pic of ladies with their tits out, and the tits were slowly moving
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:16 PM):
haha
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:16 PM):
actually i think before that we had like laughin attacks
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:17 PM):
laughing so much we were crying
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:17 PM):
well, moving tits are no laughing matter
so you're laughing, family guy is looking shit like anime, and indian womens tits are playing dodgem cars
what happened next?

Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:17 PM):
hmm
im not totally sure, but next thing i remember my mate is spewing in the sink
but not your everyday run of the mill spew
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:18 PM):
prob cause he saw an indian womans tits
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:18 PM):
it was like just pure batter from his piece of fish
and then my other mate started cleaning it up with a spatula
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:18 PM):
haha nice
ok, before when we were talking about it, you described the overall feeling like a wave?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:19 PM):
correct
its hard to explain, but you become aware of your body clock, the circadian rhythms and such
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:20 PM):
you get an appreciation of the whole yin and yang thing

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:20 PM):
that's... pretty deep
but how so, like how do you become aware of your body clock?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:21 PM):
hmm
im not sure, you can sort of just feel it
like time seems to speed up and slow down
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:21 PM):
so you're kind of... seperate from external time
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:21 PM):
like a wave
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:22 PM):
yeah
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:22 PM):
i've never been to the ocean :(
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:22 PM):
except the mother fuckers kept asking what the time was
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:22 PM):
haha
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:22 PM):
and im like stfu, just enjoy it
actually time had something to do with my slight freak out

Lol Japs can't even draw a circle properly

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:22 PM):
now you also said that the trip helped you figure out some personal stuff
without getting to far into detail
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:23 PM):
mainly some family and personal issue i didnt understand
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:23 PM):
so it just gave you some clarity
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:23 PM):
some unresolved things - why im feeling the way i am about certain members, etc

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:24 PM):
rightyo, very cool
now back to your freak out
what happened there?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:24 PM):
it was quite unexpected
ok the freak out
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:25 PM):
well i was holding onto a piss, and someone asked the time which made me worried id been holding on to it for hours
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:25 PM):
haha
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:25 PM):
so i race outside to take a slash, and i suddenly thought id pissed my pants
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:25 PM):
ahaha
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:26 PM):
and like, i looked at the wall of the caravan and could see my friend inside cleaning it up
then i saw myself walk into the caravan and thats when i really freaked out
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:26 PM):
woah
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:26 PM):
like falling, except in your mind
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:27 PM):
that's insane
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:27 PM):
i thought i was
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:27 PM):
hehe
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:27 PM):
but after i went back inside and explained it, i was ok

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:28 PM):
so once you understood you were just tripping then it was sweet
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:28 PM):
its very much a verbal communication drug
yes
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:28 PM):
you didn't perve on yourself did you?
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:28 PM):
i was quite impressed by my crotch
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:29 PM):
(i cant think of anything funny)
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:29 PM):
a small package isn't funny
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:29 PM):
haha

A small package rofl

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:29 PM):
so, anything you'd like to close on
this blog will probably be the entire length of my blog
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:30 PM):
that makes no sense
i'm trippin man
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:30 PM):
hmm
on closing id like to say...
um
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:31 PM):
haha you're shit at closing
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:31 PM):
do it with friends
do it somewhere quiet
do it
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:31 PM):
just do it
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:32 PM):
thats right, just do it
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:32 PM):
thanks for your time, matt
say thanks tommy
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:32 PM):
no worries gareth
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:32 PM):
hahaha
cunt
Fuck, the king is dead. says (8:32 PM):
i mean tommy
thanks tommy
Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (8:38 PM):
so....
wanna cyber?

Making a Video Call to Fuck, the king is dead. ...

THIS INTERVIEW IS OVER

Like a good journo, I am obligated to present both sides of arguments (unless it's bagging out Wil Anderson). Therefore, I give you the following guest blog by the richest 21 year-old I know, Whymsy.

Note: Like most conservatives, Whyms lacks a funny bone (and a soul). Therefore, I have taken the liberty of bringing the funny with my trademark, hilarious captions.

Note: Tommy makes no guarantee in regards to the hilarity of the captions


So, without further ado, let this guest blog take you on a journey into the dark, depraved depths of....


The Hypocrisies of the Labor Party
A guest blog

For the 10% of the readership of TommyIsCool.com that don't know me, my name is Whymsy. I am not a Greenpeace tree hugging hippy, and I am not a Labor supporter. I fit somewhere in between, and I support sound financial economic management. So, I must be a Liberal Supporter. I am the Ying to Tommy's Yang, I am the voice of reason, and the voice of sanity to Tommy when he comes out with some outlandish shit like "Mark Latham should be the Prime Minister of Australia."

Vampire Latham Disagrees

As some of you may know, last Wednesday the Federal Reserve Bank of Australia lifted the official cash interest rate to 6.00%, and the hypocrisy that has been bantered around the media is incredible. I feel it is my duty as the resident TommyIsCool.com financial analyst to post this report.

Hypocrisy #1:

NSW Premier Morris Iemma made quite a few comments in the media stating that Peter Costello should influence and sway the Reserve Bank's decision to raise interest rates. Now, for those of us who have an idea about politics and what goes on in the running of our country, we know back when Paul Keating was Prime Minister of this great nation he seperated any ties the government had with the Reserve Bank for matters that I will touch on later. So how Costello could have done anything is beyond my understanding, and just the whinging of a Premier who has NFI.

My government's position is clear - we do whatever The Daily Telegraph says to do

What the people of NSW should really be concerned about is the fact that our Premier is looking for excuses and other people to blame when in fact NSW has been ridden into a state of complete disrepair by possibly the biggest joke of a Premier we have ever had. I bring before you Bob Carr. Now whilst Bob Carr had a sense of humour, took bets with QLD around State of Origin time and sounded like he had the voice of a man with three testicles, his poor management of our state over a ten-year period is just too depressing and too long to list here on this blog. Transport, health care and the sheer weight of bullshit taxes are just a few glaring problems we have in this state.

I sold the lease on my third testicle to Macquarie Bank

Hypocrisy #2:

Federal Opposition Leader Kim Beazley is having a whinge that the Liberal Goverment promised to keep interest rates low, and that 6.00% is just too high for Australians to live the lifestyles they want! If there was a way I could tell you how angry I am and how much of an idiot I think Kim Beazley is, I would do it. The Liberal Goverment cannot directly effect interest rates,but they have indirectly kept interest rates low for a long period of time through sound economic and financial management.

If Kim was in charge of this fine country of ours, even with just one new fuel law that he wants to pass, the average families fuel bill would go up to $210 per week and put far more pressure on inflation than what there is now, and according to analysts, send our interest rates up to around the 10.5% mark.

Now how is that going to support the Australian lifestyle?

Coincidentally, Kim Beazley's second and third chins can support the Australian lifestyle for another two decades

What good ol' Kim also fails to mention is that - before a lot of you kids may remember - Labor were actually our federal government at one time. Back in the late eighties and early nineties we were led by the honourable (ha) Paul Keating. As I mentioned earlier, he seperated the Reserve Bank from the government, he did this to take pressure off himself as interest rates climbed to an all time high of 18% (22% for business) during the recession that "We had to have".

Now if memory serves me correct Kim Beazley was the Treasurer during this period of time in the early nineties, so his recollection of this should be very clear.


I hope all who have read this will be more the wiser.


Your friendly Tommyiscool.com financial analyst,



Whymsy





(Paid for by the Liberal Party, Canberra.)

After finally and permanently attaching the ball and chain around his ankle, frequent guest blogger REDACTED the Thong-Kicking Faggot has graced us with a GUEST BLOG! If only more of you were like him. I'm looking at you, Mitch.

It concerns his recent trip to an island (and by island, we mean a collection of rocks, trees sticks and bush spiders) discovered many, many Schoolies ago. Ladies and Gentlemen, please have your boarding passes ready as we journey to......

MAXIPAD IS-LAND
The land cool people forgotEwwww

To move away from GoatGate ’06, and onto a human interest story, Tommy asked me to write a guest blog concerning my recent return from a journey steeped in fable, that is, a trip to Maxipad Is-Land (pronounced “is land?”).

The MaxiPad Is-Land Plaque, the world's shiniest waste of time and money

I first traveled to the Is-Land four years ago, and despite returning several times since, have never spent longer than 20 minutes there. So, late last year I decided to get to know this mysteriously named block of land a little bit better.

For those not familiar with my prime piece of real estate, the Maxipad is located four hours north of Sydney in the Great Lakes. It is roughly 5 kms from land, on the other, other side of the beach. The Is-Land itself is difficult to get to, and many expeditions there have failed.

About the size of two blocks of land, it supports little wildlife. Nothing bigger than a spider could be found by day, and at night, a creature nicknamed ‘The Marmoset’ scuttles around the Is-Land. Like the beast from The Village, it cannot be killed, nor caught - only heard.

This journey was ridiculed by many from its inception. (Tommy Sez: Hi)

The Plan - Go to the Is-Land from Sunday morning to Wednesday night with nothing but some water, machetes and a hammock. Our only transport was two kayaks and an innertube from an old Corolla. True, we ended up taking a bit more stuff, namely some port and a towel or two, but there were no creature comforts.

So, without further ado, I give you...


REDACTED'S Top Tips For Living On An Is-Land.

1. Nothing gets you to sleep easier than polishing off a two litre goonbag of Port in two hours.

2. No matter how high off the ground you put your hammock, it will always stretch a bit and you will end up hitting that big rock. For amusement purposes, tie your hammock with the same rope as someone else, that way, everytime you get up during the night, their hammock will drop several inches and then they will hit a rock.

3. It is very difficult to stand up in a kayak. It is impossible to do so while throwing a machete at a stingray.

4. Playing The Food Game is a great way to pass time. It is very simple to play. You sit around describing in detail the thing you most want to eat at that moment.

5. After playing The Food Game for several days, do not let the first thing you eat be Maccas. You will wreck not only your Food Game plans, but your health for the next 24 hours will suffer. Watching Alex slump in his seat as he struggled to fit in his 4th cheeseburger is not a pretty sight.

A veritable smorgasboard of food selections

6. This rule is good advice for everyone. If you need to hitchhike, you can do several things to increase or decrease you chances of getting picked up. For instance, looking like REDACTED will automatically decrease your chances. On the other hand, nothing will improve your odds better than carrying a petrol tin. Just be careful to have a reason why you need to get dropped on the side of a lake 20kms from the nearest petrol station.

7. It is difficult to kill a pelican with a hatchet.

8. Accept you will only get about 2 hours of sleep at night because you are hungry and it is only 2 degrees. Plan your evening around this. You will probably want to start the fire again about 3 in the morning, so finding wood beforehand will make this easier.

9. Make sure that you don’t use the leaves that make your skin feel as if it is on fire to wipe your arse.

10. Do not take your dumps upwind of the camp site.

11. When you come ashore, do not land in the middle of the National Parks Officer Station. They might start asking questions.

12. Sleeping in the dirt next to the fire can be really comfortable, but you need a pillow of some sort. Rocks are quite painful. Innertubes are cold. Shoes are a bit lumpy on their own so fill them full of leaves and they should work fine. Your arm will work alright, but if you lose feeling in it, be careful when you warm it in the fire after you wake up.



That’s probably it. I really do suggest that everyone spend some time on an island sometime. There is no way to accurately describe how good it is to play the Food Game. Nor how much you long for 6:56AM when you know that the sun will rise above the ridge and you can go sleep on the patch of grass on the North side. Nor how being so hungry will make you hypothesise whether the dead fish floating in the lake are still safe to eat.

But it's not all bad.

Sleeping in the sun on the grass was fantastic. Sunrise kayaks in the Ocean after a pre-dawn journey over the lake are awesome. Going a few days with nobody else within a couple of kilometres is a surreal feeling.

Let me know if you want to join the next expedition.

I don't wanna wait, for my lunch to get colder... says (12:58 PM):
ive come up with a blog idea
actually no i havent

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (12:58 PM):
haha
tell me
no harm in sharing

I don't wanna wait, for my lunch to get colder... says (12:59 PM):
it was more of an observation
like this silly bitch stopped because she knew the builder whos working on the shop next door
and she said "Gary!! what are you doing here!!?"
and its obvious hes fixing the fucking roof on the shop
its signed on his van, hes in work clothes and he had a sheet of tin in his hand
so yeah

Tommy 'The Tommy' Tommy says (12:58 PM):
haha
yeah you're right, that's probably not worth a blog

I don't wanna wait, for my lunch to get colder... says (12:59 PM):
hahaha

Here is a guest blog submitted by regular guest blogger REDACTED. It is a perfect example of what not to send Tommy if you don't want him to give your guest blog a title that insults you. So, without further ado, I give you...

REDACTED HAS A TINY, TINY PENIS
'It's more like a clitoris, really'A guest blog


a) http://www.drdixiemills.com/photos_breast/mastectomy/mastectomy.jpg

b) Your blog has never been good. Ever. Except when richie made artpads about exploding menstrual cycles

c) http://attrition.org/wow/casual-news/05-12-13-digo/squirrels.jpg

That fulfills my guest blog requirements for the next 3 years

Captain REDACTED

It really is small

So, I'm supposed to put a 'farewell post' here. So, I went to Tommy and asked him exactly what he wanted me to do.

Dr. Richard Kimble says:
what do you want me to write on your blog
PresidentTommy says:
just a short paragraph saying fuck you for not appreciating my blogs
PresidentTommy says:
hehe
PresidentTommy says:
maybe a picture of bill cosby

So: I just thought maybe I should let you guys know how hurt I was by some of your comments. I don't want to make a big deal out of it because, hey, I don't know a lot of you personally, but you should know that comments you make on the Internet can actually have a real effect on real people's emotions. I'd put a lot of time in, a few times a week, to consciously sitting down and writing articles for this site, all as a favour for my buddy Tommy. I wasn't getting anything for it, and you guys just decided you would have to sabotage my attempts to entertain a few people. Does putting others down really make you feel better? Did you get a kick out of knowing that my heart dropped after every time I'd spend an hour or more writing only to have you tear it all down with a few one-liners? You guys are just malicious wolves, picking on others around you, and I hope one day your lives will be filled with pain and misery because of it.






Ahahahaha, can you imagine what it would be like if I was really like that? See ya, I'm going back to reading Harry Potter slash fan fiction.

In honour of Australia Day, and Australia being one of the laziest, most laid-back countries on the planet, I have decided to make a blog article entirely about a few things that I figure I could maybe write a few paragraphs on. Maybe not even a few things, maybe not even a few paragraphs. We'll just see how I go.

God Bless Australia, Our Land Australia..

Fish vs Fishes
Now, everyone knows the plural of fish. Fish. But there's this other plural there, fishes. Now, what's all that about? I had always assumed that the fishes plural was restricted for use only when more than one type of fish was involved. As in, there are many fish of the species fishus barbequemeatlovers, but in the entire fish genus fishus pizzahutflavours there are many fishes. However, I was recently challenged on this point by a similarly bored acquaintance of mine.


Note: Fish are not attractive. If you are a fish, chances are you are not attractive, but kudos on learning to read.

His postulation was that there are many fish in a school of fish, but if you're talking about small numbers of fish, you say look at the couple of fishes. I asked him what the exact number was for the conversion from fishes to fish, but he somehow passed out and may or may not have drowned in a pool of his own drool. So, one quick Wikipedia search later, I found that I was right and thusly danced my 'the Internet proved me right' dance, but still, I was profoundly mystified.

What were the implications of this? Were dogs to become 'dogses'? Hobbits to become 'tricksy little Hobbitses'? I feel that the effects will become most felt in the Western Suburbs, where the emergence of new slang terms truly has our civilisation's language on a razor's edge.


wha.. WHAT are youse cunts lookin at? Do.. da ya wanna fight, cunt?

The reader's of Socko's blog probably wouldn't understand this, growing up in your posh houses on the Northern Beaches, drinking hand-mixed dacquaris driven to you from Jamaica by a butler in a golf cart, but out there in the ghettos of Lakemba, Bankstown and Yagoona, the word 'youse' refers to a group of people, typically resembling vaginas, as it is often paired to make 'youse cunts'. The vaginas, like most women, obviously are not very well read, as 'youse cunts dont know nuffin' is as common as teenage pregnancies and racially-motivated bashings. So, what happens when there are several groups of youse cunts out there, probably throwing bottles and knifes and unwanted foetuses at each other? Look at all the youse's. Holy shit, there are a lot of youse's out there.

It's chaos, I tell you, utter fucking chaos.

Dominic Monaghan and Evangeline Lilly
Now, being a man of science (NOT A MANOFFAITH? WHATSDESTINYLOCEK OMGORFL LOST HUMOUR), I believe that there is balance in nature. So, perhaps you can explain this one to me.

THIS :


is getting married to

THIS :


In case you didn't get that..

THIS:


is getting married to

THIS:


One more time for the slow ones..

THIS:


is getting married to

THIS:
.

You may as well kill yourselves now, people. There's no justice in the world. Although, if you're an annoying, bad-acting, layabout fuckball, you may have a chance of scoring one of the hottest women on the planet. Good luck.

Eggs
I mean, one minute they're bad for you, now everyone's like, 'hey have you tried eggs yet wow how about eggs.. eggs..'. What's all that about?


They're planning something. I know they are..

OK, I'm out.

Well folks, Tommy asked for it, now you have to sit through it. It's the socko.blogspot.com not-at-all-exclusive about the Mark Latham brain snap that ended with a camera in ruins, a photographer with an injured wrist and a nation left wondering why the fuck this guy isn't our Prime Minister.

Legal pundits are speculating whether Mr Latham's 'sad clown' impersonation will actually hold up in court.

The Herald Sun reports, without bias of any kind, that 'Mark Latham destroyed [a photographer's camera] after throwing a trademark hissy fit outside a Hungry Jack's restaurant'. Adding insult to injury and terrible reporting, they continue, 'the Nikon camera is armour-plated and designed for use in war zones -- but it was no match for the tortured mind of Mr Latham. After sharing a hamburger with young sons Isaac and Oliver on Thursday, Mr Latham stole the camera from photographer Ross Schultz and then tried to king hit him when he was asked to return it'. The great part about this all was that this was between calling the photgrapher a pedophile because he was trying to take photos of Latham's kids, and later attempting to run over reporters who were waiting outside his house.


Reports indicate Mr Latham's political career was also found strewn amongst the wreckage.

Have you ever noticed that every time Mark Latham gets into a scrap with someone, he always tries to 'king hit' them? The reason for this is surely obvious. Mark Latham is a king. If you tried to take photos of me and my kids while we were having lunch, chances are I'd be pretty pissed as well, but this guy has the stones to ante up and actually physically attack anyone who comes near him, his family, their friends, pets, relatives or distant acquaintances. Pancreatitis can't stop him, law suits can't stop him, and being banned from riding taxis sure as shit can't stop him, although it has inconvenienced him somewhat.

Now, any 'discussion' regarding paparazzi and privacy laws is bound to include some of the following, so let's get those out of the way right now:

Princess Diana was probably killed because of the paparazzi, but it was only days before the Queen planned to have her offed anyway, so it was no big loss.

Yes, Jennifer Aniston had nudie pictures taken of her from miles away, but they weren't that good anyway, plus Friends is over and Brad Pitt's moved on so no one cares about her anymore.

No, Heath Ledger did not spit on photographers at a recent premiere, but yes, it was hell funny to see him and that blonde twig he hangs out with now get soaked.

Yes, celebrities should seek complete privacy by bunkering down in their climate-controlled germ-free hyperbaric chambers, never emerging to see the light of day except to buy frogurt and make the occasional Police Academy movie.

Yes, Mission to Moscow was the superior of all Police Academy movies.

The sad thing about the Latham story is the blatant attempts at character assassination that have been going on, originating chiefly from the Daily Telegraph, that pillar of Australian shlock journalism, who the photographer in question worked for. Since the 'scandal erupted', they have accused Marky Mark Latham of boasting about his inflated pension, attempting to kill members of the press, insanity, depression, vulgar language and there have been thinly veiled implications of transexuality. And it's completely ridiculous, Mark's pension is not inflated at all.

This is one of those Jack Bauer-like situations (new series of 24 is awesome, by the way), where the guy should go from public enemy to public hero in the space of an hour (or, in Jack's case, probably wanted dead by CTU to LEVEL 5 ACCESS ALL SYSTEMS OMG ROFL). Give the guy carte blanche for whatever ass-kicking, taxi-driver-beating, camera-smashing, pedophile-calling he wants, leave it in place for four years, see if it worked, if not go back to what we had.

In other words, give him the chance we never gave the Labor Party.

All stories of lawyers and ninjas aside, It's time for the Miss America pageant again. Why, I remember being a little girl and getting excited to see the pageant, imagining what it must be like to be a beautiful grown up woman that is admired by millions of people, and later watching it with my sorority sisters and we would pick favorites and make bets and have pillow fights in lingerie.

You can now see the 'favourites' for the Miss America pageant at http://www.missamerica.org/, but let me tell you, the old grey mare? She sure as shit ain't what she used to be. I'm wondering if my memories of the beautiful ladies are totally skewed by innocence and an unprejudiced child-like view of things, or if the women have just gotten so much damn uglier it hurts just to look at them.

So, they aren't all hideous. A few of them might even be considered hot. Maybe. Most of them MIGHT get a free drink if they showed up to a bar on a slow night, but on average they are, well, average.

Gentlemen, meet your contestants...


Miss Alaska - Now, to be quite frank, this woman scares the everloving shit out of me. She's the type that you'd be out with.. she'd whisper to you, 'Come closer... come closer... come closer, darling... I'M GONNA BITE YOUR FACE OFF!!'


Miss Arizona - Wow, it's like what Reese Witherspoon would look like if she, you know, wasn't Reese Witherspoon and had been run over by a truck when she was a child. I hope I am not the only one who after seeing this picture, suddenly started singing, "Who let the dogs outttt?"


Miss Arkansas - Miss Arkansas is clearly the type of woman who thinks that being perky and super-keen can get you through even the worst of situations, and has massive pictures of Condaleeza Rice on her walls so she can pray to them nightly.


Miss California -
'But, honey, I asked you to wake me up after three hours so I could turn the tanning bed off.'
'Now, Frank, I'm sorry, but hurry up, you're going to be late for your Miss America photo shoot.'


Miss District of Columbia - Okay, this is our first semi-rest stop in the endless parade of uggos. If you never go above the neck, things aren't looking too terrible here. God bless the District, it's obvious why Tom Cruise decided to set up Pre-Crime there instead of somewhere crap, like...


Miss Delaware - DELAWARE! That's right, this horrific piece of meat constantly doing the Monster Mash was actually selected as the most excellent example of womanhood to come out of her state this year. They've got to be shipping a heap of radioactive waste through Delaware, or pissing in the water supply or something, because there's some truly terrible shit going down in that gene pool.


Miss New Hampshire - Miss New Hampshire, whose 'Special Talent' category is 'Duuuuuuuh' and her Platform is 'I wush muhself with a raaaaaaag on a stick'. I think she got her nomination at a state fair where the beauty pageant and animal judging events shared the same set of judges and inner beauty went hand in hand with things like wide hips for birthin' and a strong back for occasional plowin'.


Miss Hawaii - To get over those two, here is the delicious Miss Hawaii. I'd like to spit roast her pig. She could put her ring of flowers on my neck. I'd let her [Hawaiian Stereotype] my [Hawaiian Stereotype].


Miss Idaho - This woman is notable simply for the fact that her forehead is slowly melting down past her eyebrows. By the time the finals come around, she'll be touching brow to nose, baby.


Miss Illinois - Surely all women over the age of 40 are banned from this competition. As well as all cast and crew from the Sopranos. Well, apparently not.


Miss Indiana - Miss Indiana, whose Special Talent category is 'Using my breasts to get ahead in life'. I think that if my best friend showed me this photo and told me that was his new girlfriend, I would be forced to do the following: 'Mmmmm.. hmmm' *Nod head slowly*


Miss Iowa - So here's our third rest stop, Miss Iowa, who's as cute as the buttons that will be flying off her shirt as I give her a rough dose of surprise sex in the back of my van.


Miss Kansas - Miss Kansas? Well it looks like when that Wizard of Oz tornado came through she copped a big plank of wood straight to the face. We're not in Kansas any more, Toto, we're in the Intensive Care clinic preparing for hours of facial reconstructive surgery.


Miss Mexico - It's been a rough year for New Mexico. Their girls can't even tan themselves evenly. What? Excuse me? Goggles are the new look? OK, well, apparently everybody is tanning in their own goggles. It's obviously why she's up for Miss America. Get with the times, man.


Miss Minnesota - What the hell is wrong with this competition? Is it a coincidence that every single girl in the pageant has a nose that casts a shadow that long or cheekbones that could be used for harvesting wheat? Does anyone like gum? Cause I'm guessing this girl has plenty.


Miss Missippi - This girl's special talent is 'Looking as much as possible like that underage chick from the Gilmore Girls'. I don't want to bag her out too much because she's a small window of hope in the cess pool of this competition.


Miss Montana - Not only does this chick look like she's half drunk, it looks like they took an almost attractive chick, grabbed her by the hands and feet, and stretched her until they had this monstrosity.


Miss Nebraska - Wow, it looks like that hot chick from the Drew Carey show. Actually, wait, it looks like she ate that hot chick from the Drew Carey show.


Miss Nevada - And here we are. The piece de resistance of Miss America, 2006. There are no words for this. Just point and laugh, then move on.


Miss Ohio - Ohio? More like OhHellNo! Am I right, guys?


Miss Texas - Miss Texas, whose Special Talent is sleeping around, and whose future involves being a trophy wife for some alcoholic rancher.


Miss Vermont - Miss Vermont, also title holder of the 2005 Miss Frumpy Competition and whose sister is coincidentally a horrible fashion stylist, working for Miss Vermont herself!


Miss Virginia - Oh god. Here's your winner, folks. This is going to be an easier victory than the time I challenged that retarded kid to checkers and struck him repeatedly around the head whenever he started to win. The only thing is the name of her state? Virginia? Yeah right, and I'm humping Donald Trump.


Miss Wyoming - Look at that nose. It puts Paris Hilton to shame. How convenient, though, you can slice, dice and julienne vegetables with it. If you ever head over to Miss Wyoming's house and she's slamming her head repeatedly into a chopping board, don't be worried, she's just fixing herself a cool, refreshing snack.

The worst part about all this, aside from the faces on some of those mutants, is that Norway are sitting back, laughing. Do we get the Miss Norway competition televised here? Fuck no. We only get the American Skank Parade. Check out what some of those Norwegian bastards are dealing with :




Damn this war, Muckrakers, they've taken me house!