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The Hole In My Headnot just the other one March 05 Back at it.Well here I am. Such an epic totem of masculinity.
I am camping down in the computer labs with my mp3 player inserting TISM tracks directly into my brain while I try and find something meaningful to type into thes crap heap that I never use anymore. I am so cool.
Fact of the matter is I don't live with my parents any more. In a round about way I am saying that the internet costs money. Money that I don't particularly own, and if it wasn't for a certain past indiscresion, it would be money that is only a balaclava, cap gun and VB Commodore away.
All things considered, I am doing fairly well. I did have a sore throat, but that is a long way from dying of starvation in a dirty unpowered hovel, which is where I used to suspect I would end up after several days away from the luxury of parents who possess money. There is nearly always alcohol in the house, which is fantastic because there is rarely an abundance of NCC (non-corn chip) related food.
Fantastic for two reasons:
1) Drinking on an empty stomach is so much cheaper than wasting valuable alcohol through digested food absorption. 2) You vomit surprisingly less when there is nothing to bring up.
If you are especially lucky your vomit will be entirely alcohol, so if you are quick with a couple of pint glasses you can get a free refill.
Seriously, things are great. I am doing part time uni and it has taken me four years to realise that as long as you look like you are doing something, everyone assumes you are. That and I am now an average of three years older than the average first year.
Part time is a bit of a joke. I do about an hour and a half a day on average and one unit is leading up to teach the theory of the work I did at CSIRO over summer, but it's a core unit.
The other unit is aiming to teach me the idea that behaviour is a selective factor of neo Darwinian evolution. I was pretty sure that was conveyed in year 10, but I am happy to get credit points for it.
I better go and pretend to not sleep in class. If you slump over just right it looks like you are busy writing to the untrained eye. Since most people train themselves to use their eyes immediately after birth, nobody falls for my fantastic sleep disguising methods. January 04 Too damn hotIt's that aweful time of the year again. Summer. Too fucking hot.
I love Winter, simply because it stays cold and I can deal with that. It's nice and breezy the whole time and I like it that way. People piss and moan about it and stay indoors, which means I have less cockheads to deal with when out on the street.
I can wear shorts and a t-shirt and not burn to a crisp and contract cancer and dies a horrible painful death.
I am a hairy man indeed. Anyone who has been fortunate to see my half naked body will tell you that. I also maintain a nice even layer of fat covering my buff muscley interior, which gives me extra insulation. Fantastic for Winter. It means I CAN walk around in shorts and a t-shirt and be ok during cold days.
The downside to being an amazingly kick arse Winter adapted super being is that I am simply forced to eat shit during Summer.
I can't deal with it. Anything pushing 20 degrees causes my to sweat for no good reason. When the temperature gets up to about 40 degrees I plead for strangers to kill me.
Some people might suggest that going to the beach is a good idea. It might seem like a better idea since I am convinced that Geelong and the nearby Surf Coast have some of the best beaches on the planet.
The downside is that I burn faster than a child doused in petrol. This coupled with the fact that I am an incredibly weak swimmer.
I can keep my head above water for long enough, but my rate of movement is virtually nil. It doesn't help that I have large lungs and can actually keep my head underwater for long periods of time, during which I don't move far.
Coupled with the fact that I get rather freaked out when I go deeper than my shoulders, I usually find not going to the beach to be a better alternative.
There is still one fantastic alternative remaining. Park my arse in front of the TV in a four million degree room and drink so much beer I can't tell what day of the week is. Right now there is the added bonus of not needed conciousness to realise that Australia will be handing England's arse to them at all stages of the cricket.
Too hot. Fuck off. December 11 Uni, nobody really needs it.I am done for another year, and with a bit of luck next year will be my last and I can finally start to legitimately do the work that I have been poorly trained to do through me degree.
In my voluntary work experience I have been using chemicals that the third year classes will not let us touch, yet the standard workplace environment that we are training to be part of require the active use of said chemicals, and I for one, think it is probably not a good idea to shelter the people who are meant to be operating as trained professionals from the materials they are meant to be proficient in.
It's pretty bloody late, but my faith in biotechnology has been shaken quite thouroughly. So much so that I probably spelt the last word in the previous sentence wrong.
I've witnessed a lot of smart people go through my course in thr proper amount of time while I have been happily repeating a year.
One thing struck me very hard in the chest in the last few weeks of my course. We were not presented with any of the negative effects of the research being done.
Sure we were told that some of the stuff in biotech was untested and long term testing was not possible. It is not much of a negative and it is very unlikely that it will have a major impact. No big deal.
One thing we were presented with was the ability to knock out a gene in mice that made them bulk up on muscle. This was deemed as a fantastic break-through, since it was likely the same gene would be present in nearly any animal that produces muscle, and since we eat the muscle of animals it could dramatically increase the amount of dry carcass weight (the amount of usable meat we get off an animal such as cattle).
Basically over the same amount of time, the GM animals bulked up five times as fast. Fantastic. Apparently.
I was having an idle conversation with a doctor of aquaculture one evening over a few (read: shitloads) of cold beers and he was talking about a problem with not getting enough meat from certain fish in a short amount of time. So I suggest the GM option and he just shuts me right down. Big time.
Apparently the gene knockdown does make the animals whack on weight bloody quickly, but they also eat seven times more food.
Do this to a large enough number of animals and they will tear the environment apart. Not a good thing at all.
The next time I saw the lecturer who told us about the technology I asked him about it. It was in private and he just shut me down and refused to answer.
This was a legitimate issue and everyone else in that particular class would be leaving in less than one month as a trained biotechnician and not even be presented with the possibility of rooting up big time.
It was scarier still that nobody (including myself) brought up the issue of how much food do the GM animals eat at the time of the information being presented to us.
All that aside. You can trust me. I work with viruses. I keep all our animals safe so you at home don't catch bird flu and die a horrible horrible death while sitting in your rooms fearing GM. December 05 Tending barsYou may remember way back when I started working at the Geelong Race Club as a bartender. That has escalated into my steady flow of income. All because I am loved by my bosses.
I am yet to miss a function or race meet that has happened since my first day of employment, therefore making me the most employed bar staff on roster. I am now a supervisor and get to recommend my friends for work. This basically means I can bring my mates to work, and we get to play with beer and hang out while getting payed. Fantastic.
I have also had my first taste of night club work.
Oblong lined it up for me and I had to man a satellite bar serving jager bombs and Smirnoff varieties. Not the hardest work, but it was a long shift. The manager asked me back and I am more than happy to do it. The only problem is the location of the club. Smack bang in the middle of Melbourne's CBD. It's a fair hike from the middle of G-town, and the trains aren't very friendly a lot of the time, but there is not much I can do about that.
Next time you feel like a drink, maybe it will be from me. Maybe I'll spit in it. November 30 I'm back. Remember to lock your windows at night.Sure, I have been gone a long time and nobody cares.
I already regret writting that sentence as it sounds like I have some kind of self doubting pain in the arse loser complexion, but I assure you, I have no doubts about how great I am. Just as my Mum, she thinks I am cool, even though she can't cook.
Some of the useless crap that has happened since I last decided that the online community should be graced with my presence include:
It is needles to say that each of those points are more important than the collective events of your entire life. Essentially, I kick arse. I will give you a brief summary of each of those points until I get bored, which isn't likely to be soon, because the underriding topic is always me, and who could possibly get sick of me?
New Zealand
Glacier
New Zealand is pretty much like Australia, but overseas and a bit colder.
There are shit loads of mountains everywhere. It was pretty cool to stop and look at the mountains on the first couple of days there, and my camera was chock full of mountain photos during the first three days, and then after that they just became a bit repetitive and I got sick of them. Possibly the greatest things about mountains are the fact that they frequently had snow on them. Being a stirling Geelong boy, I never get to see snow. I love the cold, yet I don't go to the snow, what does that make me? Economical.
New Zealand thought it would be a really fun idea to have a few glaciers. Since there are absolutely zero glaciers in Australia, it seemed like a good idea to go to NZ and harass their glaciers.
I have heard in the past that glaciers are essentially huge wads of ice that slowly move, mashing paths through mountains or anything else that gets in their path. They are pretty fucking slow, so basically mountains are the only things slow enough to get caught in their path.
After climbing a huge mountain I was presented with a view that could only be described as a quarry. Luckily there was a little plaque that told me that I was at the very special Hooker Glacier (unfortunately there were not in actual prostitutes there). It was special because it is one of the rare glaciers that melts from the top down, instead of receeding and advancing. Essentially it was a huge ice block. However, since it had decided to plough it's way through a mountain, it had collected a shit load of rocks with it. As it melted, all the rocks ended up on the surface since the newly liberated water either evaporated or seeped past the rock. Simply put, there was a huge layer of dirt and rocks on top of 200m of ice, but all you could see was rocks. It wasn't even that cold.
A glacier ripped me off. I walked up a mountain and it stayed under the blanket of rocks that it built for itself and said 'not today buddy, maybe in other several decades'.
So I did what I do to anything that rips me off. I urinated on it. Right off the lookout and onto the rock surface, which would have alowed my urine to seep down to the glacier and soak it in piss. I felt justified and climbed back over the safety barrier and walked back to the car at the bottom of the mountain. Take that you ancient lump of ice.
Rone 1: Glacier 0.
Beer
New Zealand is now ranked at number three in my favourite beer nations.
For curiosity sakes, Ireland is number one for making Guinness, Australia is number two for having both a healthy boutique beer range and me as a resident, and NZ takes out third place for two reasons.
1) Speight's Gold Medal Ale.
This shit is fantastic. Possibly the best amber beer ever made. It is brewed in the old copper vats and not in a continual production line like other beers, such as dog urine... I mean VB and Carlton Draught, Crownies, Fosters..etc.
I am yet to find it anywhere in Australia and I cannot vouch for it's export quality, but in Dunedin it cannot be beaten.
2) Standard beer size.
The pint. My precious love child of beer. I drank in several pubs and one that seemed almost like a night club. I drank at Irish bars and New Zealand themed bars and just plain run of the mill bars, and at everyone I gave no more instructions that 'a Guinness' or 'a heavy' (they always gave Speight's in Otago if you asked for a heavy) and it always came to me in a pint. I never even SAW a pot. As far as I know there aren't even pots in NZ, you either have testicles and drink pints, or you sit in the corner and cry like a wimp.
The only downside of NZ that really pissed me off was their currency. The largest not I ever saw was a $20. That's not too bad considering I normally struggle to have $20 at any given time. The big problem was that I was a tourist and hence, needed a lot of cash on my, and $500 in $20 notes is just too fucking big to sit on.
I am now tired and I am going to bed. You can hear about how other things are greater than you later.
I rule. July 19 A legitimate reasonRegardless of the state of my laptop I am taking a few days off.
My Nana died unexpectantly last night and there needs to be a certain level of family commitments made.
I'll be back soon. July 13 Insurance (sort of) saves my arse (read: income).The sacrifices I make to run a shit heap of a website like this are astronomical.
Apart from the abundance of time I put into writing crap like this isn't the whole of it.
Yesterday after throwing a few photos on here for everyone to drool over, the screen on my laptop died. Right now I am working away at dad's workstation upstairs. It is a fairly slow system and my patience is wearing thin. I wouldn't expect many updates until the bloody thing is fixed. That gives you a week to breath and relax in the (relative) safety of your own homes.
The first thing I did was get onto the spawn of Satan that can only be called 'Tech Support' to see if there was some way they could guide me to fix it without paying more money than the laptop is worth to get it fixed by a professional.
They were no help. I had to ring twice and both times I was greeted by a Pakistani or Indian sounding bloke who had names like Patrick and Sam. Sounded a bit suss to me. They kept making me repeat basic details and they couldn't pronounce Geelong properly so I assumed that I had an overseas call centre on my hands. It was my duty as a human being to simply invent sayings and pretend they were accepted ways of talking here.
The guy on the phone was obviously getting confused, but hey, if they TELL me that I can't fix it and they don't instantly direct me to someone who can they deserve everything I can throw at them.
After an inordinate amount of time I was eventually referred to a guy who can repair my screen not far from my house and I was happy.
This best bit was that it is all covered by my warranty. They will even let me take my laptop home to use with an external monitor while I am waiting for the replacement parts to be shipped over.
Insurance is finally starting to redeem itself. It is now just moderately shit house. July 12 End of an era.Time moves on. Things change. New opportunities arrise and older occupations must be put to rest.
That time is now.
I finally have a new job that pays a more humane rate and it leaves nothing but more job options open in a time when I only have to do grunt work for another 18 months.
Uni has thrown me another unfavourable time table dashing all my hopes of holding a morning job. Thus the end of an era has arrived.
It is just a matter of time before I have to talk to Phillip and resign from my job of the last three years. Making it the only job I have walked away from while actually enjoying the work.
My work history has been an on going fight with management. Mainly because they are annoying bastards who dictate rules for a job they have never performed and hence no nothing about the intricate level of self organisation required to do the job with any level of competancy.
Safeway saw me struggling under the weight of two useless managers who both thought they had jusristiction over my job when neither of them had a clue about the effort required to actually do the job.
To be fair, everybody hated working at Safeway during the period I was there. To be even more fair, they hated it long before I got there and from what I understand they hated it long after too. I dated a girl who worked there several years after I left and she would continually be in tears after management made life a living Hell. Well, either that or she was a sook. I never got to the bottom of that one.
A regular topic of conversation was about how everyone hated the place and how they all wanted to quit.
I got sick of it all being useless words. What's the point of wandering around and whinging about not liking your job without letting the boss know? That won't change a thing.
So I hasseled the boss and got nowhere. They thought they were doing me a favour by giving me a shit job and trying to grind my arse to powder. No thanks. I was doing THEM a favour by taking their shitty job and doing better than they could have bought on my wage.
So I quit and they cried. The other workers questioned me, 'Why did you quit?' and I told them I was sick of whinging and any job was better than this shit heap.
I was wrong. Most jobs are better than that shit heap. Toys R Us wasn't.
That's where I ended up thanks to good old Matt. It really did help me initially. I have always strived to be financially independant and a job is necesary for that. I don't think I have ever taken money from the government (with the exception of my HELP fees, but I have to pay that back) and I rarely claim anything on tax. So a job was the only way to go.
The management there was starkly different from Safeway. They were completely apathetic. No training, nothing.
It's very hard to serve customers without any real understanding of the stores operations. I struggled through this one making JUST enough money to survive without begging and pleading to my parents for cash.
Eventually management changed and I picked up a few more shifts and then I started doing cheap work on the side from other employers and told Toys that they could keep me but I was only going to work the high paying shifts... so I got no shifts.
Then out of the blue I got a call that there was a new manager in town and I had a shift so they could check out my skills.
They didn't tell me the whole store had been completely renovated. Luckily the basic layout was the same so I wasn't completely over my head. They did make every single isle impossibly small to turn sideways in.
The new boss simply looked at me and thought 'Yep, biggish looking guy. He must be good at stock work.' It would have helped if he cared to check that I had over three years of customer service. So I got stuck with reorganising a small section. Apparently Matchbox cars was my 'special' section and I was responsible for making sure nothing was stolen from it. Fuck that. Pay me to come in and watch over it or I don't give a shit how much is taken from it while I am not there.
Anyways, I was getting unbelievably mad from trying to set up ladders and retrieve stock from the upper shelves when it was too confined to open a ladder without physically moving large quantaties of stock.
The boss then felt the need to tell me how much of a big shot money making manager he was.
I hate people like that. I shook his hand, he told me his name was Simon and then he told me the store started making 300% more profit since he rearranged the store so only a annorexic midgit could fit in the isles.
I asked him if the massive influx of money generated by the store affected my pay in any form and he said no.
I told him that I don't give a shit how much money the store makes. I didn't tell him how much of a cock head I thought he was.
I still don't understand why he felt the need to brag about how much money the store was making before even saying 'how are you?'.
I noticed that my shifts COMPLETELY disappeared after I hasseled the boss.
I didn't care that much because I was already working a different job.
I was the newest employee of East Fruit Market.
I got to move heavy boxes and get thanked for it. I got to serve customers when it was busy OR when I felt like it. I got to spend my time working doing any job in the shop I wanted as long as something productive was being accomplished. I got to wear whatever clothes I wanted. I didn't have to shave before work. I was allowed to wear a knife. Nobody cared if I showed up to work drunk/hungover. That was probably the best part.
I loved it at East Fruit Market. It is pretty much all run by the one family and I have seen a complete turnover of non-family of staff in the time I have been there.
People know my by name. They know what I am studying. They know I am a bagpiper and they stop and have a chat when they come into the shop and it is more like bumping into an old friend while working than serving a customer. It is brilliant.
I actually like my boss. There is no solid rules. He sets a shift and I rock up and work while I am there and go home with a bit of pay.
It is still the lowest paying job I have ever had, but I am still a firm believer in job satisfaction is more important than being bought to do a shit job. I wouldn't have been there so long if I didn't believe it.
We had a girl work there for a while and whinge about the low pay. I told her that she can find higher paying jobs but they are rarely as good as this job. She quit anyway and I bumped into her later and she had just quit a higher paying job elsewhere and was going to ask Phil for her job back. But it was filled... by me! Ahahaha.
Bartending is the same for me. I love the work and for some reason they get paid a shit load more than fruiterers even though the work is easier.
I have done a bit of rogue bartending. Working functions or one off gigs and finally I have been employed by a functions caterer that uses bartenders and since uni has dashed the times I work at the fruit shop and it looks like time I have to say good-bye to the old shop. Making it the first job I have ever quit without wanting to tear the throat out of my boss.
All that work history doesn't change the fact that I have my first week of holidays in three years.
Time to go and eat something. July 08 Race in for a beer.Adam has been corrupting my normally fine sense in choosing a Friday night venue and it was well worth it.
Last night I was asked to go to a wine tasting. Yeah, a wine tasting. I know everyone is now confused. I can almost hear the screams, 'Rone! What are you doing? That's wanker central and you don't drink much wine!'. I agree with you all, but there were several factors that I took into consideration.
My cousin Dave started mysteriously going to wine tastings a year or two ago. He discovered that it is a real good way to go to a cheap piss regularly. I liked the sound of this.
I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to laugh at pompus wankers while getting drunk. I wasn't particularly worried about being thrown out of a wine tasting.
Oh, did I mention it was a FREE wine tasting. As far as I'm concerned, putting 'free' and alcohol in the same context is as good as inviting me personally.
So Adam and I made our way down to Lamby's for the tasting only to find we got there an hour early. The best thing about being early had something to do with the Lamby's serving pints of Guinness for $4.
I am normally pretty apprehensive about a $4 pint of Guinness, but the bartender told us it was happy hour prices... and they lasted for another 5 hours. Sounds good to me.
The Guinness tasted good too. Very pleasant. I was at Irish last week and the Guinness was shit. I was very disapointed at that. I even quit drinking Guinness for that night. Lamby's really shone through last night.
Lamby's was also giving away a free takard with every two and a half pints.
Adam decided that he was going to shout me a few pints and we went through four in the hour before the tasting. Some wine-os asked if we were in the tasting and if so, why were we drimking so heavily before hand. Adam told them it was to lighten our pallets and I nearly spat a mouthfull of Guinness in their faces when I started laughing. I was drunk, everything was funny. Especially tools who took wine tasting seriously. I am surprised that Adam and I were the only people there for free piss.
The tasting didn't go exactly as expected. There was a beer in the tasting. It was called Ocean Lager and it is brewed by none other than Nick Koga. I went to school with this chop and he has got into the brewing business and he makes a damn fine drop, and at 5% it has a decent strength too. Make sure you go out of your way and get to the Nash, the BC or the Carlton to get a pint of this stuff, it might be pricey but it is worth it. It won't turn me off Guinness, but it is fucking fantastic.
The wines weren't that great. There was one I liked, but true to my style I forgot it's name and I will probably never find it again. Oh well, at least it was free.
Adam and I convinced some lady who said she would never drink beer to have some Ocean Lager and she disappeared pretty quickly after getting one. I laughed at this for a while. Nobody could work out why.
Adam and I got back on the Guinness after the wine was done and Reggie rocked up and promised to fund the drinking for the rest of the night.
Kareoke started and I went to Irish Murphy's to listen to Jibberish.
The night was getting a bit blurry at this stage, but eventually I wandered back to Lamby's and told the girls on the door that I was with Reg and they let me in without paying so I wandered around and couldn't find anyone, so I went and danced (badly) for a while.
I went back to the door girls and asked if Reg had left and they told me they didn't know who the Hell Reggie was. This was pretty great, I started wandering if I could have said any name and got in for free earlier, I will try this later.
I eventually went and sat on a couch and fell asleep. This was a good indication that it was home time. And that is exactly where I went.
The tally for the night was pretty decent. I gave Adam $10 for a few beer and I ended up getting fucked. Not the biggest night, but enough to make the walk home a staggered journey. I nearly considered jumping someone's fence and taking a nap in their yard.
The night ended. A nine hour session ending in a great sleep.
A great sleep that was fucking interrupted at 10 am. Fuck that, I like to sleep.
It was for a good reason. A bartender was needed. It was urgent. I was needed.
My cousin (funnily enough, Dave's wife) works as a catering chef for functions. Todays function was a racemeet at the Geelong Race Course, and the bartender for the owners and trainers bar was sick. This was my moment to shine. But first I needed to shower the stench of BO and smoke off my body and brush the smell and taste of 9 hours of drinking out of my mouth.
A fresh black shirt and pants. My good black shoes. My new watch slapped onto my wrist. My waiter's friend and barblade in my pockets and a dozen breathmints to chew on during the trip there and I was set.
I got there and found out I was working on my own. I also found out that there was nobody to tell me where the Hell anything was.
Everything was dirty and some guy wandered in and said I needed to look after the giant coffee urn too. I got to work and put all the glasses through the washer, set up everything where I wanted it, opened a few bottles of wine, got the coffee going and prepared for the worst.
What happened next wasn't the worst though. My boss came in and wacked the cash in the register, told me I was in charge and pointed out a few things around the bar and wandered off.
The next person who came in was the owner liason. Her job was to go around to owner's and have a chat to them and then make them come to the bar and give me more work. She was cool and the system worked. People come in and got a cheap beer and then had a fucking whinge that it wasn't free. Fucking tight arses. They own horses worth a fortune and crack the shits over a $2.50 beer.
They were a good crowd regardless. There was always a huge rush after each race and the day went by pretty smoothly. The hours flew by and eventually the liason said she was off to her night job as a caterer at functions for a different company and that I should close the bar when everyone leaves, which shpouldn't be long since it was dead outside.
Sure enough it turns out the winner of the last race was a Melbourne horse and all the owners and their families decided to go nuts and hit my bar and flooded the place just as I was about to shut.
Since I was never told a closing time I kept serving.
Eventually some chop named Brendan rocked up and went behind the bar and started pouring himself and his mates beers. It turns out he was a groundskeeper and staff drink for free. I didn't give a shit, he was serving other people too which made my job easier. The place was fucking packed and it really did help.
It took an extra hour and a half for everyone to filter out and eventually it was just Brendan there by himself on a mission to finish the last keg on his own. As far as I know he is still at it.
Since I am a good little Nazi, erm, I mean worker, I followed my orders and cleaned the till out and went to the signing office and signed off.
If things were going according to plan I should have been told where to bring the cash and then I could go home and finally eat something. But there wasn't a single person in site and the office was empty.
Of course I did what every responsible employee would do.
I jumped the counter and started making phone calls. After ten minutes I got onto my boss who was shocked that I was still here. I told here nobody told me when to stop so I kept working. Apparently I was meant to close up and let the groundskeepers and steward at the bar fifteen minutes after the last race. She conceeded that since nobody told me it was all cool.
Rumour had it that I handled the bar like a legend and kicked a degree of arse of the kind never seen before and they felt that it was a command from their God to give me a job, and now I will allow you to greet the newest functional bartender for the Geelong regional races and possibly the Werribee region too. I am a hero. Worship me.
On a side note, all these wankers with shit loads of money had a great time getting tanked at my bar after hours. Guess how much the bastards tipped. $2.60. Fuck that! That can't even get me a beer anywhere in Geelong outside of happy hours! What a crock of shit. Some bugger even told me to get a hair cut, but to be fair, he told EVERYONE to get a hair cut.
I am just shocked that they were the worst tippers I have ever served.
Time for me to try and go and get drunk, for I deserve it. July 06 Looks like I'm hoofing it.The transition from car to bike was an easy move for me. I used to ride a lot when I was younger and I can generally get to most places in Geelong in about the same time it would take me driving in heavy traffic and catching a few reds, so I wasn't too fussed about being on the pushie for a few weeks.
There were down points though. Apart from the obvious fact that there isn't a single driver in Geelong who knows how to obey bike lanes is a minor set back. It doesn't take long to get used to the fact that every driver is on a personal vendetta to end the lives of cyclists. I've had pretty much a decade of road cycling to take this into consideration, it becomes second nature to avoid certain death.
The real downer came today when I had to get up and cycle to work at the crack of dawn this morning. Actually, I had to leave before dawn. That's not the point.
I got about half way to work and my tyre just went flat. What was worse was that I left my pump at home. A pump is no good during a puncture unless I have a puncture repair kit, which I don't. It just happened to be the first thing that popped into my head. Shit, flat, no pump.
I rode to work regardless, which wasn't too fun since the bike had no suspension and I could feel every bump shake my arse.
When I got a moment to inspect the tyre is turns out the puncture was a disaster waiting to happen. There were at least six spots where the tyre had completley worn out and left no protection for the inner-tube.
Due to money shortages I can't exactly afford to fix the bloody thing right now. Meaning I have gone from driving to riding to walking, and walking sucks.
There is a big difference between an eight minute ride and a half hour walk.
Long story short, if you have a car and live in Geelong, expect a call from me expecting a lift at any stage over the next week. July 04 I suppose I owe it to Max and Jordan.I hate making boring posts, so I have decided to do the most boring kind known to man. Make sense? Good.
It has been a while since I have composed a comment response and I expect it to be a long piece of work (read: shit).
Max and Jordan were pretty prompt to tell me not to shut down my site. The world apparently needs an arrogant angry bastard and who am I to deny them of it. That's how great I am. Bask in my glory and get me a beer.
There's no point with small talk now, I may as well get to the greater chunk of the work, and that includes finding all the comments you good-for-nothing bastards made during the whole time I wasn't responding to anyone.
For those of you following along at home, these will be in chronological order from the last comment response. I suggest hurrying to get me that fucking beer already.
To Spewgirl - Gday. I tend to go overboard when writting on this site. Take it as an indication of how stupid the average person is. They need to have every bloody detail spelled out to them or they wander around in a confused daze. If I was in charge of basically everything the world would be a much nicer place. Anyone deemed a 'dumb-shit' but me would be subject to compulsary sterilisation, either through surgical castration or a really decent, well aimed kick.
I agree that meat is good. Especially when it is made of baby animals. I have already expressed my happiness with the fact that cheese is made using rennet, and if I recall the rennet is from a calf. I may have made that up, but if it is true I wil probably like cheese even more. I ate a whole block of tasty as-is during the last week. It was indeed tasty.
I can't recall hearing of Dream Theater, but right now REM is making some noise through my speakers, and I approve of this. Oh yeah, even an angry pain in the arse can enjoy the relaxing tunes of REM after a busy day at work.
I am yet to make the big journey to Melbourne to fetch my hat, and I have noticed you have been too lazy to head to Geelong to give it too me. You are yet to send that photo of it too. Slack. Simply slack.
To Ryan - What do I look like to you? A fucking dictionary? Get off your arse and get a dictionary and check the word up for yourself. I am not your mum. I'm not going to hold your hand for all the scary words you come across that you don't know the meaning of. The fact that you have heard it used before and still didn't check it up makes me think that you have heard what I have said before. Clearly you can read since you managed to pick the word 'peon' out of my ramble. Use this rare skill and dig the meaning up out of a dictionary (that's one of thos big word books that have the meanings for a lot of words).
To Sticko64 - Carly wasn't so random as much as she was stupid/annoying. She must be at least partially retarded if she is going out with someone who doesn't support People for Pints.
I would love to see People for Pints up and running, but I don't think I will have the time to organise and run the society next year. I am willing to be the figurehead if I need to be, but I am fully in support of someone else starting it up and organising the bloody thing. It is perhaps the only perfect society ever.
To Jordan - You had to be all clever and write a Haiku that was about me. I feel that this is the best kind of poems. Actually, I like nearly everything about me. Since you have been a champ I won't charge you for using me as the subject of poetry without my consent.
I did count the syllables. That may normally count as a victory to you, but unfortunatly you tried to help Ryan, and helping the stupid in a positive manner should be a crime punishable by death, so we will call it even. Actually, I will call it with me slightly in front. Make that leading by a mile. I'm such a nice guy.
To Yo - You = cocksucker.
To Spewgirl - It has indeed been a long time since we have caught up. I am also well aware that you have my hat. If I had seen the hat I might be in more of a jealous rage that I don't possess it, but since the hat is still a mystery to me I will let it's current location slide for a while.
The pub hasn't really given me much work lately, so I have been joining the masses on the other side of the bar. It is a bit more enjoyable.
To date nobody has specifically come in to see me at work so you can all go and get fucked. As incentive I am going to spit in the beer of the second person who comes and sees me. That will make first place a bit more satisfying.
Anna is well. She had a bit of trouble in England, but she is in Morocco now and if my time calculations are correct she should be on her way to the Sahara.
She is yet to kill me.
To Lor - You found me on BOB because I am definately the greatest site ever made. I am the best.
You better come back. Otherwise your intelligence will start slipping and you will eventually spontaneously cumbust.
I do indeed live in Geelong. Specifically, Newtown. The same attitude still exists here now. Everyone walks around like a upitty shithead. I have been here since you could buy a pie, cake and drink for $5 rather than barely a coffee.
I have never been one to care what my clothes look like. As long as they keep me covered they are doing their job. I hate walking around my own neighbourhood and be looked down apon. I take satisfaction that my presence can be seen as offensive. I really wish I had the cash to frequent a few businesses on Pako and just generally drive their custom away.
The only people from Newtown that I hang out are the mates I have had right through school. I've known them for nearly a good 18 years and I can't recall any of them buying anything on Pako that wasn't beer or something from the milkbar.
Being a piper I get to play at home and annoy people who think they are top shit because they live in Newtown. They can go and eat a dick. I have been here 21 years, I'll make all the noise I want.
To fume hombre - Anyone who causes a colision with my car is a fuckwit who deserves to be dragged nude across sandpaper for a few kilometers.
I hate shifty fuckers. There is a good chance that I am responsible for the crash, but they sure were some fucked up incidents leading up to it. At least I have told the truth and not changed my whole fucking story to make me seem completely innocent.
'Oh no! I was driving and suddenly both cars in front of my slammed on their breaks, chucked their cars into reverse and drove into the front of me while I was stationary!'. Yeah, that's believable. I might use that when I go and give my statement.
To Nikki - There are some stupid arse rapists out there that make me want to tear them into little pieces. Pretty much anyone who is a lying or useless piece of shit deserves to have a few new holes ripped into them.
At least the law might be on my side for once and rip a hole through one lying piece of shit without me having to do much.
At least the insurance for my car paid off OK and my rating isn't affected.
I take satisfaction that my sister is a smoker and she will probably die a slow and debilitating death while I am still happy and healthy despite the fact that she is younger than me.
Hey, don't you smoke Nikki?
To Max - I can't say that my time away was bad. There was a fair share of shit things happening at exactly the wrong time, but there was a fair amount of good things happening too. I'm not going to tell you about them though. Deep down you don't care and I am not going to fuel superficial niceties.
Anger is good.
I can't believe I nearly called it quits before reading the stupid shit people have left in these comments. I can't believe that some of those people are probably capable of reproduction.
I am surprised that they managed to even type some of the comments.
To Caz - NOBODY can do enough grovelling to me. I do like 'mighty godly Rone'. It has a nice ring to it. Keep it up.
Does it still count as leaving 'voluntarily' when a bouncer 'volunteers' you to leave?
To fume hombre - That venue was always shit, even when it was a McDonalds. I picked up Carolyn there. I vomitted a good ten minutes before doing so. The vomit stayed on the floor the rest of the time I was there, which was at least another hour. It was right in the staff walkway too. Filthy shit hole.
A cheap scotch shouldn't cost more than $4. PERIOD. If you get down to the Sawyer's Arms during happy hour you can get a Jameson's for $4. That's probably the best value for whiskey that I have found in Geelong.
To Nikki - Considering how aggressive I have been this year, I find it very hard to believe that only one venue has ejected me. I don't think I have been refused entry yet either. Very rare. I can normally ruin even the best night by giving lip to a bouncer. Not this year. This is MY year.
You are right about one thing though. Your useless stats list would eat a large amount of balls compared to my useless stats list. This isn't discrimination. EVERYONE else's useless stats would lick nuts compared to mine.
Grovey was last Friday. I didn't see you there.
To fume hombre - It only reassured me why I rarely watch TV. I initially thought how spasticated the people who make it must be, until I realised that there are people out there who take it seriously and they must have a level of retardation that I can't even concieve. I'm imagining people who need actuve reminders to breathe.
Just about every news broadcast is shit. I might watch the ABC News again later when the stop treating me like a geriatrict and reminding me of the shit I JUST FUCKING WATCHED halfway through the broadcast.
I got by pretty well for many years without paying attention to the news. I can do it again.
The government better start promoting hydrogen cell fuel advancements and an increase of GM research otherwise I am going to have to really try and find the least shitty politician out of a bunch of cockless cowards.
As an Australian I want the right to watch all of our filthy drug smugglers kicked out of this fine country. If some other country is willing to let them rot in their jails, let them! It is brilliant. Don't take them back.
Can the government revoke Corby's life? I would approve of that.
If all the fucking whingers are sad about not seeing the scum of our nation enough they can feel free to go to Bali and commit a crime and rot in jail with the rest of the useless slimeballs out there.
To KC - I remember you. I would probably still talk to you if you were actually online once and a while.
To The Clown - For fucks sake. Finally someone whose name sums them up nearly completely. It would have been better as 'The Arse Bandit', but 'The Clown' will do.
I am an Australian. I think it's a bloody great thing. I have no idea what you are crapping on about though. You tell me being an Australian is great and then you tell me you don't know. Well, it can't be both. Unless you honestly don't know what you think. I am following similar lines here. I don't know if you CAN think. I shouldn't be too harsh on you. You may have been born in Tasmania, it is still part of Australia and how am I to know (apart from an educated guess) if your parents have a 'special' family arangements. If one man is an uncle on both sides of your family than I retract the my previous comment and replace it with fits of hysterical laughter.
Feel free to actually type words instead of useless acronyms. You have all the time in the world to leave a comment here. I refuse to accept that you didn't have enough time to write 'what the fuck' but still manage to put four exclamation marks at the end of the same sentence. Once again, I don't know how many fingers and if it makes it difficult to type.
My car was written off by an insurance agency and I have no idea where it is, but I do have a wad of cash to make up for it's disapearance. It might be in a ditch. It is more likely at an auction yard for sale as spare parts.
You don't need to tell me that you are a clown. You have made it (painfully) obvious.
I don't think I have actually met anyone from Hoppers. You make me happy of this fact.
I think I will turn down your invitation of writing back. Your response to this comment will give me an accurate judgement of your character.
To Max - You were right. I am the greatest person ever. I run a site that people comment on. People so stupid that they can inspire rage from an otherwise happy man. I am sure that this must be a good thing.
As far as I am concerned, both you and Jordan owe me eternally merely for my (optional) presence.
Even though you do like soccer (not everyone is perfect like me) you have been a good mate. Thanks for the encouragement.
To Jordan - I read your comment and all I can say in response is that I am great.
That was a lie. As long as nobody every has a dig on me for writing poetry I will express my gratitude to your (and everyone elses) kind words with a... haiku. I put numbers there so some of the lesser educated fools don't have to count on their fingers.
The Rone
I live to drink beer (5)
Bagpiping makes me a God (7)
Praise me or die, fools! (5)
First I was merely the greatest person who ever lived. Now I am the greatest haiku ever written. July 03 Nearly doneOver the last couple of weeks I have lost a lot of things.
My car is gone, one boss won't give me any shift and the other has had to cut back a lot of my work because the business isn't making enough money. I have two decent looking job prospects, but I can't make a go of them without a car.
My girlfriend is overseas.
I spent all my money (all $20 of it) on drinking.
The shitty audience for this site has all but dried up. I'm only getting a minute fraction of the old numbers. Maybe you guys aren't as stupid as I thought, you eventually realised how terrible the crap I spill out is. I've run this site for about a year and a half, that's usually how long I run a site before I quit and consider what to do next.
I can honestly say that I have never felt better. I spent the whole weekend either asleep or out with mates.
I realised that I miss Anna more than anything.
My volunteer work experience at CSIRO is going great. I hope to finish a robotics program tomorrow that can prepare six ELISA plates in a fraction of the time it would take a person to do it, all fully customisable.
I managed to fix my bike and I have been having a blast riding around dashing between errands and jobs.
I had my mentor promise to get me into an honours program after uni.
I even shaved my beard off.
I sat up the entire of last night watching my favourite DVDs and I got straight up for work and just felt great. I still haven't slept and I don't feel sleepy.
I guess what I want to say is bite me. This could be my last entry. At least for a while. I have always hated writing happy posts, and I am not feeling angry at all. June 29 Stay where you are.Oh TV, why does though hate me?
Is it because I never watch you, or is it some huge cosmic power that tries to balance things out when I am an arsehole to the retards in the general public?
Well, the answer is no. TV has always been shit, TV is shit and TV will always be shit. But this crap with our 'news' shows has gone too far.
First it's all about the Australia wide 'consipracy' that higher quality foods cost more and now while watching the midday news (due to the fact that I couldn't find a paper) I heard the worst news I have ever bore withness to in my whole life.
Schapelle Corby might be coming back to Australia... in less than 20 years. If I wasn't such a perfect specimen of manhood I would have cried like a little girl with a skinned knee.
The Australian and Indonesian governments are currently negotiating a deal to do prisoner exchanges. At this stage it looks like we might be able to reclaim some of the people detained for drug smuggling. Yay, I can barely contain my excitement at having my taxes now pay for the detainment of retarded smack-heads who try to get a quick dollar by ruining people's lives.
On the upside Indonesia looks like denying us the right to recover people sentenced to death. At least that rules out a few of the fuckwits in the Bali 9.
At least John Howard's government is negotiating something that is breast, whoops, I mean BEST for our foreign criminals. Aren't elections coming up soon? Wasn't Schapelle a complete bleeding heart story?
At least the deal looks like the other country has to fully respect the judgement passed down in the foreign courts.On the other hand I have been reading about prisoners who should be in jail living under house arrest.
If by some freak chance that Schapelle ends up out of prison I will probably go balistic. When did Australia start coddling convicted drug smugglers? Why does the same country ban drug dealers from certain Melbourne suburbs?
Leave Schapelle to rot in her Bali prison. Have some balls Australia. Show that a big-titted beautician in tears with a piss weak story doesn't get special consideration because the bleeding heart general public feel sorry for her. We have laws, respect them. Indonesia don't pussy about when it comes to drugs, they will fuck you up for it, and justly so.
Why do we need to be the joke of the world out to rescue our useless scum-of-the-Earth drug smugglers?
The only way I could possibly gain any respect for the new deal would be if the Australian government sent back EVERY Indonesian criminal in our jails and took back no Australians. If someone else wants to front the costs for housing prisoners instead of us attempting to rehabilitate them back into society let them do it.
Fuck Schapelle. Everyone else wants to. June 27 Get your hand off it.Before I get started I have to admit that the full extent of this part of my rage is slightly due to the facts that I both own a brain and tried to relax after a long day at work by watching TV. The two should not be mixed.
I am refering to the quality show on Channel 7 known only as Today Tonight.
They had a story on fruit and veg, and it initially caught my eye since my work as a fruiterer earns the majority of my wage. I was desperately hoping for it to be a story about how increasing fuel prices are driving up produce costs and how supermarkets are undermining local small businesses.
I can hear what you are thinking, and yes, it is my fault for expecting TV to provide a usefull story on a current affairs program.
The story that Today Tonight aired nearly drove me into a murderous fit. I was just about to strap my fruiterer knife to my belt and go to town on anyone who got in my path.
The story was about how the richer suburbs of cities get better quality (and more expensive) fruit and veg than the shops in the less financially stable suburbs who get lower quality and thus, cheaper stock.
No shit, that was what the story was about. It was alerting us to the fact that independant business people were not willing to provide a product that would not sell.
I have seen two varieties of the same fruit being sold side-by-side. One being great quality and the other of lesser quality, with the lesser quality being cheaper, simply because it was in less demand and cheaper to buy from the market. Guess which sold better?
That's right, the cheaper one. We actually lost money due to the fact that there was a cheaper alternative available.
You will never guess what my boss did at the next order. He ordered more of the cheap product and none of the more expensive one. He did this because he has a brain and he didn't want to throw away money on a product that wasn't going to profit from just so the customers can look at the expensive fruit and daydream about the endless options of food they can buy.
It might be worth pointing out that the shop I work at isn't in the richest suburb of Geelong. We sell (lots of) cheap tomatoes and apples. We sell very few expensice bananas and strawberries. Therefore we stock the things we actually sell. It isn't a huge fucking conspiracy. People in poorer suburbs cannot afford to buy expensive food when cheaper foor does the same job.
On the same hand, rich people don't want to buy asthetically damaged food because they are tight arsed wankers who think every problem can be solved by throwing money at it.
But get this, they didn't stop insulting my intelligence there. Far from it.
They then said there was a big difference between age between the two strata. They were claiming that apples can be up to two years old in poor suburbs.
I used to own an apple tree, and I have kept apples in the fridge, and in dry storage and I have NEVER seen one reach the age of two without turning into mould. I'm not saying that it is impossible, but I highly doubt it.
They also didn't say what particular stock from each strata they were analysing for age. As a fruiterer I occasionally hear stories of lazy stockmen who don't rotate their stock well and the fruit at the back can get old, but that doesn't mean it is old from the market. The fact that most produce disappear seasonally suggests strongly that there isn't an 'age old' stock of produce available to buy. Why would someone keep them right through the off season, risk losing stock and then sell it during on season against fresh competition (rather then NO competition) for cheap? It makes no sense.
Texture quality and taste can vary within the one box! They are also highly seasonal and it depends on stock rotation. It is bullshit to even consider comparing the two strata.
They then got their dietician out of storage so she could tell us that eating food that is stored at room temperature for long periods of time isn't as good for us as nice, crispy fresh fruit. No shit. May I also remind you that shops in less financially supported regions have a harder time selling high quality stock, and thus it sits on the shelf longer than the less visably appealing stock... at room temperature. Thus it is worse for you.
It may also be worth noting that their dietician didn't have the wonderful title of 'Dr.' in front of her name. This really made me trust her logic.
Maybe her opinion was valid. Dr. Morris was next on call from the sterling team at Today Tonight.
No shit, this is a direct quote:
'Sweet and acid were the two things we tested'.
Wow, lucky they were tasting sweet. They weren't testing for sugar content, but rather this magical property known apparently only to Dr. Morris and Today Tonight as 'sweet'.
The website states that products such as potatoes, apples, tomatoes and grapes were tested for appearance, texture (huge difference between these two), colour intensity (wow, I am glad we aren't STILL dealing with the asthetic appeal of the food), juiciness and defects inside and out.
WAIT! I thought they said they were tested for 'sweet' and acid! Nowhere on the hugely asthetic list was sugar content or pH (acidity and alkalinity) measured. How exactly was the 'sweet' and acid determined?
I haven't worked out exactly how the two qualities in question were determined through the factors they decided to observe. Maybe all my study in analytical chemistry truly was for no purpose.
Here is where probably the biggest insult lies. They have already established that fruit shops in rich suburbs sell higher quality food than low income areas. It now suggests that the higher quality food is sold at a higher price! Holy shit! Who would have thought that food that costs more to buy wholesale would cost more in retail too?!
It MUST be a conspiracy!
I like I have actually lost intelligence after watching that show. I hope one of their producers stumbles apon this article. June 26 What do you expect?I am just letting you bastards know that this isn't a comment response.
I didn't do one. I didn't do one on Saturday either.
I now have a heap of unattended comments that will go unresponded simply because I can't be fucked getting back to them. I might someday, but not now. It is too fucking boring and I have better things to do.
Instead I will let you know I am back at the CSIRO. I also have no car and only 20c to my name.
My driver's lisence has expired and my bagpipes are chronically out of tune and harder than normal.
I possess no beer or any alcohol of any kind.
I don't have any phone credit and my work has been cut back to one day a week.
All this taken into account, I am better than you and will continue to be so.
I don't have much to say today so that will do.
Oh yeah. Anyone up for a bit of fun this weekend, there is a good chance I will be piping with Jibberish at the Grovedale Hotel. Feel free to go there and buy me beers.
It is also the three year party at Irish Murphy's THIS Saturday. I won't be bagpiping, but feel free to buy me beers none-the-less. June 23 I'm still mad at you chops.I got the phone call today.
It was incredibly nerve wracking and I quickly summed up all the outside factors.
The result was in though. Insurance companies are officially complete arse fucking shit faced cock sucking bastards with no consideration of other people's conditions. I want to learn more offensive words to describe them. My car is officially a write-off despite the fact that the fucking thing STILL works and only has asthetic damages. Good work you guys. Is taking a working car from people who need them what you do when your not anally raping grandmothers?
Technically I am not even allowed to drive my car at all since it has officially made a write off, but they can get fucked if they think they can give me no notice when I need to drive all over Geelong this weekend.
On the upside I get to plan for my next car. Guess what I am going for.
That's right. I'm sure you all got it on the first guess. I am aiming for an early model Holden Commodore. Preferably another VB, but nobody can tell the difference between that and a VC so I'll settle for either. Dad has even started making some inquiries for me. As good as that makes me feel it doesn't take away the fact that insurance companies are complete arseholes.
In completely unrelated news I managed to get myself kicked out of my first night club for the year. It took me six months, that has to be some kind of record for me.
Basically I was shitfaced and had no money and you will all thank me when I don't regail you with all the events as me pissing up with mates is rarely enjoyable unless you are there, and even that's not a gaurantee.
There were highlights of the night when Adam threw a soccer ball in the middle of kareoke, missed the people he was throwing it at. In fact he completely cleared the crowd and smashed some glasses at the bar. Good work Adam.
Anyhoo. I went into Club 4Play, or whetever they call that shithouse in the old Soma building and I went straight to the bar and ordered a scotch. I didn't like the type of scotch they poured and I also didn't want to pay $6.50 for it so I told the bartender to get fucked and I will give him $4 for it.
The bartender told me to leave.
I told him to stop peddling useless scotch at insane prices.
The bartender told the bouncer to make me leave.
I reminded the bartender that he was a useless pain in the arse.
The bouncer removed me.
I was kind of relieved though. Not just at the fact that I was removed and now have something new to chuck in my 'useless stats' area, but moreso in the fact that if he agreed to take the $4 I was fucked. I didn't even have it. I wasn't even close. I had 75c.
Dangerous night.
Back to the moral of the article. I am better than all of you. Bow down and beg for mercy. June 22 I am unbeleivably mad at you. Yeah, you.That's right. I'm back. Exams are over. I have no more study to do and since my last article there has been a plethora of people just lining up to piss me right off, and they thought that they got away with it. Wrong arseholes. Well, there were a small group of protestors that I am going to let off (for now), but that was simply because it was fairly topical and a while ago and my opinions of student unionisation will lead into a huge rant about how shit DUSA is and that will take all my time just writting about how the university that is in charge of my education cannot even include the establishment of a competant student union. That will wait for later.
Number one on my list - Debbie.
I was in a car accident a few weeks back. Thanks Debbie.
Anything you have ever heard about women drivers is true. I am nowhere near a great driver, and sometimes I feel pretty bad just saying I am a competant driver, but I usually obey the basic traffic laws and I haven't intentionally broken a traffic law since I was 18. I feel that is was acceptable when I was 18 though. Who doesn't want to know the top speed of a 1980 Holden VB Commodore?
Anyway. Debbie absolutley made my day near the Daytona Go-Karts in Belmont.
I was heading towards town and Debbie was two cars in front of me, and anyone who has been on that road will know the sweeping turn this happened on. Debbie kindly inicated that she wanted to turn right and moved into the turning lane. That's fine. It's cool to turn. Cars are made to do that. Very acceptable.
Now she suddenly decides that she doesn't particularly want to turn right any more. Something must have tripped in her brain because she outright forgot to indicate when she swerved back into my lane without any form of indication.
There was a car between us at this stage and due to being on a hill I lost sight of her in front of the other car.
The next thing I notice is break lights. The only thing running through my head is 'Wow, shitty driver, they must be speeding and slowing down for the green light in case any cops are about'. So i do the natural thing and start applying my brakes and this is my biggest reason to take cars off stupid people. I went straight into the arse of the car in front of me. Yep, that's right. Three car pile-up.
But I can hear you all saying 'Hey Rone, you said you applied your brakes!'. And that's exactly what I did, but I didn't take into consideration that someone would swerve suddenly out of my vision and SLAM on their brakes in the middle of a green light. She didn't slow down on the green, she completely stopped! And she was driving a shitty hatchback that can stop dead if you breath too heavily on the breaks. The guy in front had a decent car with decent brakes and was able to stop quick but still make contact. Me cruising along in my 1.8 tonne shit box with the assumption that people usually drive through green lights didn't stand a chance. By the time I realised they had stopped dead I was still going 50 and slammed the brakes and cruised nicely into them.
I was travelling into town because I was a designated driver. I have people in my car waiting to get to a party.
All three cars pulled off the road and we went to establish our stories and things went pretty well. We all had it agreed that she swerved and stopped dead in our lane and we went up the arse of her.
Because we agreed the cops didn't need to come out, but we all decided to go to the cop shop and lodge an incident report.
The next bit is shitty.
Debbie's car battery dies. The guy in front of me and myself are blocked in by her. Did she ask if any of us could help. No. She sent her husband out walking for help. Yeah, that took the best part of forever to do.
Anyone who has seen my shit box would realise that I would be crazy to drive ANYWHERE without a tool kit, extra hoses and a set of fucking jumper leads.
I leant all my tools to the guy in the middle and he did some on site repairs to his cars and eventually Debbie got her car started and decided to stand around chatting to people on the scene for fucking ages. Eventually the guy in the middle and I cracked it and asked if she could move as we wanted to get to the cop shop and not stand by the side of the road forever.
She moved her car and said she would see us at the station soon.
The guy in the middle and I got to the cop shop and lodged our reports. The cop has looked at mine and said 'You went into the back, 99% of the time you were at fault, let me talk to my superior', and off he walked. He came back and said because she was clearly an insane lunatic (maybe he didn't use those EXACT words) I was cleared. He also said if her story was the same as ours she was going to receive an on the spot fine. Brilliant. How could this go wrong? Escpecially since we all had the story agreed apon at the scene.
Well, the answer to that has to do with the fact that she NEVER SHOWED UP at the fucking station.
The cop was an absolute champ and rang her... lots. He even went over and visited her and she didn't answer the door. He eventually caught up with her six bloody days later and asks what her story was.
It was pretty much the same as what we already filed with the slight difference. She is claiming that both the other cars drifted across into her lane at the same time and ran up the arse of her. Yep. She honestly expects people to beleive that we both slammed on our breaks independantly and swerved into her lane and crashed.
This now means that we all have to go in and make official statements and it has to go through the police system. The other downside is the insurance, especially when the cops can't come to a conclusion until the finding is done and it looks like I ran up the back of two people and will continue to look that way until the cops say 'Debbie is insane, Rone kicks too much arse to be at fault for other people's inability to drive properly'.
Of course this all happened right in the middle of the time at uni when ALL of my assignments are due. Great. Insurance and study are two things that mad me more mad than anything on the face of the planet.
Thanks Deb, I really appreciate your willingness to lie to authorities to try and peg the blame on a uni student because you are too cowardly to own up to your own fuck-ups. I hope this goes to court. I imagine they miss me since my last visit.
Person number two - I tricked you, it's not a person! It's a shit house insurance company.
This insurance company does everything it can to look out for me. Basically I give them heaps of money to insure the car and when it is crashed and the only damage being to the hood panel, front grill, headlight brackets and pumper clips they decide to tell me that there is a bloody high chance that the cost of repair will exceed market value.
The problem is that the market value of my shit box is in the range of $20-30. It is shit. But it runs on gas. It is very cheap to run and it is currently the ONLY car I can afford to run.
Well kiddies, then the cost of repairing a car exceeds market value, insurance companies really look after their customers by taking their fucking car and giving them the market value in cash. Great. How good a car do you recon I get for the value of my shit box that will run on my budget?
For those of you out there who don't know, the only car I have ever liked was a 1980's VB Holden Commodore and I was forced to sell it for $100 because I couldn't afford the petrol each week. That's why I have a shit box that runs on gas. I can't afford to drive a car if it doesn't run on gas.
When asked if I can just keep the car I have now and use that even though it is damged they simply responded 'No'. So I backed it up a bit more by saying it still works and I simply don't care about the damage, it's all basically asthetic and I don't give a shit what it looks like and they still responded that they will just come and take it away. Great. Some cock-faced insurance company is going to come around and take my car away unless some mechanics will fix it for cheap, and that's never going to happen. I would rather have a shit car than one I can't use. I am so glad insurance companies would rather take away my car rather than let me keep it at no cost to them. Fuck them in the ear.
Person number three - Erin McDonald.
My stupid fucking sister is living at home again and being a completely annoying pain in the fucking arse. I hate the fact that I tend to get kicked out of home if I try and snap her nose.
I went to have dinner with the family and sat down at the seat that my plate was already placed at. It was already placed there because I have sat in the spot nearly every night for dinner for the past five years.
Erin eventually comes to the table after cooking vegetarian suasages (which resmbled what I can I only describe as 'deep fried shit') and she decides to make a comment.
'You're sitting in my seat'. I quickly told her that I've been sitting her the last five years and that the only reason she ever sits there is because she rushes to the table for it.
Erin goes fucking nuts. Storms off. Right up to the other end of the house. The rest of the family eats in piece. And enjoys it.
Unfortunatly she came back and started eating at the bench. It didn't worry me. She eats like a fucking animal and there is nothing more desturbing than sitting across from her when she eats.
I finished dinner before my folks and brought my dish to the sink and made dessert and went back to the table and the filthy bitch took my seat... between courses.
I asked what the fuck she was doing in my seat and she said she thought I had left. I told her I was back for dessert and she could get out of my seat this instance before I throw her outside. Typically, she stormed off and went up the other end of the house. I ate my dessert. It was good. My folks ate their dinner. That was also good.
I go back to my room and find my chair slashed.
I am mad.
I go to the kitchen and ask who had slashed my chair. Mum said no. Dad said no. Erin said no. I told Erin to get fucked and stop being such a dishonest pain in the arse. Mum told me to watch my language.
Mum came up to check the damage. She double checked that I couldn't have accidently done it and I said I didn't, so she went into Erins room and found a nice big pair of scissors. Mum said there was nothing I could do since she denied it.
I was furious.
I went back to the kitchen and yelled at Erin some more. I then told her if I got the same piss weak story from a bloke I would break his rib. I was nearly mad enough to cop the homelessness and belt her anyway.
I went back to my room.
The slashed chair made me even madder.
I then realised that Erin knows I am mad enough to hit her. This is useful to me.
I went storming back down to the kitchen and she was cooking some shit house vegetarian turds and I threw a pair of socks into the back of her head (yeah, I'm tough) and got right in her face and yelled at her until I was blue in the face. The moral of my yelling was that she should move back to Melbourne and stay there once and for all.
Mum wasn't very pleased.
I was quite happy. I went and played with the dog.
Baz was happy too.
Mum told me to chill out and that Erin was moving soon and we could all relax.
Then mum went and had a go at Erin.
I went to band. When I got back Erin was still being a lazy bitch, and Mum was still having a go at her for being a stupid tool.
Life is good. It would be better if Erin fucked off.
I've had enough ranting tonight. I'm going to get up early in the morning for work, make heaps of noise, wake Erin up and then go to work satisfied that I get to play with knives for three hours before coming home to deal with the consequences. May 18 Too busy for you knobs.I have been absolutley flat out since last weekend and I am not even going to tell you buggers what has kept me busy. Quite simply, I am going to be typing until my fingers bleed for this update and I am not looking forward to it, but hey, eat shit.
To fume hombre - You hid you comment back a fair bit and threw around a few insults, and for once I am not going to be completely petty and argue them all.
Actually, after reading over your comment again, I can't really argue with being ill-mannered, hairy and smell. I actually pride myself on these qualities. Nothing says 'manliness' than being detected by odour before entering a room and the ability to survive blizzards using only your natural body hair for warmth. If anyone gets offended by my lack of manners than they are too over-sensative and don't deserve to partake in a conversation with me.
In regards to what articles I post and when, that decision is entirely mine, and frankly, I have had other things to post lately, and I have made an posting just about every single time I have logged on, and I don't feel the need to go to excessive work for you chops. Actually, I might write a whole metric tonne of 'this is my life' articles and never post them just to shit people.
Also, I haven't been to anyone's site lately, which explains nicely why I haven't been to yours. I might go there later. I am pretty bogged down with work at the moment and surprisingly, posting on a website when I have assignments due isn't my top priority.
To Max - Contrary to popular belief, I do go to your site and read the crap you write. Oddly enough, I enjoy reading it too. I really need to go and talk to a doctor about that.
For someone who doesn't care, you seem to comment a lot on the fact that I have been too lazy to link you to this site.
I have still been too lazy to go through all the sites on BOB that I want removed, but I imagine it is going to be a lot of them, perhaps all of them. Who knows? Well, I do for one.
My opinion on what sites should be listed has not changed from sites that I think are good. That's it. If I think they are good I will throw a vote in for it. If other judges think it is good they also will give it a vote. Since the idea of the judges is to hate stupid shit, than it is likely we will whittle out the crap sites.
Idealy, I judge my own sites and rate them right here, so helping other sites wouldn't be a hassel. I would rather do a warning site to stop shitness, but it would be too full
To Krusty - You have proved yourself an educated and sane individual by being impressed by my crap that I chose to let you peons wade through.
I hope the mixed feelings are involving you being torn between either giving my money or copious amounts of booze. I will rest your quandary and inform you that I will accept both.
I would like to think that the majority of people in this country have the ability to see through bullshit, but everyday I am proved wrong by some complete spastic.
Australia would do well by granting me freedom above the constraints of all law.
I may indeed comment on your site, but I will warn you that not many of my comments are usually positive on other people's sites, but hey, you invited me so I guess you're cool with it. I wonder what would happen if I left an intelligent comment that dissed things.
To fume hombre - I didn't even start with insects so why the Hell would I stick with them? Wouldn't that just be limiting my research capabilities by only sticking to one class of life?
You watching a moth take a leak on your carpet is of no use to me other than humour. I do know some people studying psychology who may be interested in speaking to you though.
To vegetariansareok - That is still the single worst username you could have come up with. Perhaps 'selfconductedlobotomy' would be a better handle.
Why were the only two people to comment on this article so blind to see that a worm and a snail aren't insects. Insects have six legs, snails and worms have none. Therefore I have only cut up one insect, and since that article I have cut up a pidgeon too, making it only one insect out of four organisms, which is equaly proportionate to all classes I have disected.
Birds crapping on people doesn't cut it I'm afraid.
Adam and I cut open a bird and we decided that since it had a closed circulatory system the 'bird juice' would be hard to locate as it's bodily fluids are seperated and not in just one big mix.
We theorised that there must be a previously undiscovered 'bird juice gland' that contained the (possibly anti) aphrodesiastic qualities we seeked.
We were lucky enough to actually discover the bird juice gland and I managed to spray it on Adam's face. Results were positive. We rock. All the more reason for me to drop out of uni.
Let's just take a moment to reflect that you are a vegetarian (presumably, if not, potentially brain damaged... or both) and an animal (bird) decided to take a shit on you because you were not eating enough animals.
To Jordan - I was hoping for a cruisy day until I saw the length of your comment.
I hate it how you start of lazy and hope for a short comment and you end up doing a long comment, which shows you weren't THAT lazy and you take away my laziness by making me respond to a huge article.
There was no logic in your defence of Annie, as was there a lack of logic in her annoying comment. Trust me, if there is one thing I am used to by now, it's people making useless illogical arguments/points that take up my time.
I was thinking Hydra juice, simply because they just kick extreme arse and are rivaled only by planerians. But if I can get my hands on a dragon fly, I will cut it up and spray the juices on people just for you Jordan. Remember that if any court cases suddenly spring up.
You could always attempt to send my the biscuits. Oh yeah, don't call them 'cookies' you imperialistic bastard! Here in Australia (I'm pretty sure Alice Springs is still part of Australia) we have biscuits not 'cookies', but hey, who am I to judge the A to 'Zee' of whats said on the 'sidewalk' these days.
Your dad is a butcher. That is so cool. Perhaps one of the coolest comments ever left on this site. Apart from stir fry (which I detest) I am in complete approval of his butchery. Next time you are in his shop, get him to randomly chop a large piece of meat for no reason. Meat is your friend.
I can't stand olives, but on the upside, that just means more olives for you, because if I did like olives, I would be going out of my way to eat them all. Instead of eating olives, I prefer to drink Guinness.
I have no opinion of Lleyton Hewitt. I don't like tennis (and thus tennis players), but since I don't watch them I don't know anything about him. If it makes you feel any better there is a chance his whole family could get wiped out in a joyous (erm, I mean tragic) road collision (erm, I mean accident.
Stealing Max's glory was a big part of it, but in case you couldn't tell, I enjoy frequenting your site, and even though they are a complete pain in the arse to respond to, the regularity of your comments is the highlight of the exact moment I see you have commented.
There is a 93% chance that Max is my illegitimate love child. Or perhaps it was a 93% chance that Max lives in South Australia. I always get those two mixed up.
I have neither peanut butter nor celery, so I will instead eat some yoghurt, followed by musli, and then at dinner time I will probably eat a cow or two. Perhaps a pig/goat.
On the topic of interpretive dance, I have just completed my first motion picture 'Spaghetti Spaghetti, An Interpretive Dance Spectacular in one act'. It is a master piece. Better than the Da Vinci Code.
I used to learn Chinese, and after four years, I would go as far as saying that I was completely shit house, but that didn't stop Rob and I from writting a (bad) Chinese song.
A relevent coresponding Haiku would be right up my alley.
I refuse to retract my comments on Annie's humour (if you want to call it that) and Max will be on the list when I get around to updating it. Perhaps you guys could study biotechnology quickly and come to Geelong to help ensure that I pass uni, if not I will keep placing my uni work above updating my space.
Small children looking for pictures of skeletons playing cards are now my target audience.
Rock on Jordan.
To fume hombre - I thought it had been established that I barely read your site, as such, I didn't plaigerise the idea, but I do like the fact that we think on the same page. When I get off my lazy arse I will come over and check out your work. My people will call your people.
I would like to believe that they kill the calf for the renet, if not, they should.
To Carly - I thought I already expressed my opinions on randomality. But then again, you probably think you aren't an idiot.
I didn't give the block of cheese 3+ of anything. I cut it up and ate it, that's what you do with cheese. You don't make it part of a mathematical equation.
I am thinking perhaps you were hit on the head with several blocks of substances significantly harder than cheese as a child. They make cheese into a block because it is easy to store and pack, thus making it a more efficient shape. Since you can fit more square shaped blocks of cheese onto a pallet than round blocks it is possible to transport more at a lower fuel to cheese ratio. So it was probably someone who possessed a brain who thought of making cheese into blocks. I will point out now that perhaps cheese was made into blocks before petroleum fuel was used, but steam engines and even donkeys use fuel to an extent.
If I was trapped in a mine and one of the first people I saw on my first night was Eddie Maguire I would rather be so drunk I couldn't remember it. Genius of them to get Eddie to fund this.
I think it is unAustralian to sell out your story. Utter bullshit.
How exciting can their story be? 'Hi, we were riding out crane-mobile and the rocks fell on it and trapped us. We kinda just sat around for 14 days'. Thrilling. I am waiting for the movie version. Hang on! I got to see it all for 14 days on live TV! I can never get that time back.
To Jordan - After that last idiot, ritualistic suicide looks like a smart idea.
I acknowledge that penguins can be shiny, and that they may be shiny for large periods of time, I am saying that it was a completely useless comment that took up my time and pissed me off. Thus waranting abuse from me on my own site.
To Max - Good work starting an assignment early. Are you sure you REALLY attend a university and aren't just making it up to sound smart? I didn't think any assignments got started until the night before.
At least you didn't start until about week 10 of the uni semester. That's pretty commendable.
My last assignment was the king of all assignments and I refuse to revere anyone elses work. Mine was that good.
I ended up getting a heap of extensions (and sleep deprivation) and got the thing in without losing a mark. I rule.
I will add you to the list soon, please stop crying.
To fume hombre - I like the way Deakin will inform you of every useless decision via the DeakinOnline webpage yet take forever to respond to an urgent question. I am yet to have an urgent question answered in less than two days. A month is pretty shit though. Hand in the report one month late and see how they like it.
To Jordan - Fucking Hell. Two. Great. There goes my lunch time.
My mates stood up for me one time while out drinking. I was a little bit upset as I wanted to punch the person who was annoying me and they kept us seperated.
Don't bother saving insects. As humans we have the right to kill any animal smaller than us.
The assignment kicked arse. I will get the official result to you as soon as I get it.
I am really looking forward to eating my next meal of meaty goodness. (Note how meat and meal are very similar words. This is not a coincidence).
If I respond with kindness it is because I have been writting this response for ages and want to stop, but alas, I feel the need to humour my public.
I panick at breathos because I feel nervous because I am pretty certain that at least 50% of my blood is composed of Guinness.
I was watching CSI the other day and was watching them pull a severed arm out of a meat grinder and other such fun and games and in the ad break a TAC ad came on and was less graphic than the TV show. I thought it was great. We see arms get pulled out of processing units by unemotional scientists and then expect to be shocked by a crashed car and someone with blood on their face. Great programming dipshits.
I'm done with this comment Jordan. Lunch time.
FINISHED. It only took me two and a half hours to write that. Pain in the arse. May 11 The day study became uncool.Despite being sick for a bit a while back I managed to get ahead on one of big assignments for my plant biotechnology class. When I say getting ahead I mean that I started doing it four days before it was due. Sure that's a little bit late in the fourteen day timeline, but it's a lot better than the last day which is when my assignments usually get done.
I will try not to bore you (for once) with the details of the write up I have to do, but I decided I would be a good boy and read a few extra sources and part of the readings I did was about a pathogen (disease) that we infected one of the plants with. Well, the disease we used was calls Peronospora parasitica and I didn't know EXACTLY what it did so I went a decent journal on plant phytology (plant diseases) and I found an article with a title including 'Hylaperonospora parasitica (formally known as Peronospora parasitica)' from 2003.
Since that was a few years ago and the fact the scientists tend to go a bit nuts when naming things, especially diseases, a few of the cogs in my head started turning.
Either we were using a disease that happened to be named the exact same name that a previous disease used to have. This is not impossible, especially if the diseases are similar.
The other option was for us to be working on a prac over three years old which in itself is highly likely, yet has implications if it wasn't and there was a name change.
So I did the smart thing and email one of the lab demonstrators. Since they were the actual ones who dealt with the pathogen on a close and personal level I was certain they would know the truth of the mystery.
Since I am a bit anal when I write reports I didn't want to write too far ahead especially since there was a bit of a risk involved and I didn't want to have to re-write large sections and re-do all the referrencing, which is a huge pain in the arse. Even bigger than the pain induced when I shove every member of the Church of Scientology up Tom Cruise's arse if I ever have to see his idiotic smug face again.
I had sent an email to the lab workers earlier in the year and got a response within two hours so I saw this whole situation as a temperary hold-up. Logically I sent the email to the demonstrator who responded quickly last time instead of the one who never responded.
A whole day passed and there was no response in regards to my query. To make matters worse the OTHER demonstrator sent out a mass email regarding some problems other students had when trying to access the online download system to get some result files last minute.
The situation is that now the report is due at 5pm TODAY (note how cool I am sitting up at 2am). I cannot write any further without feeling confident and I will only have an hour and a half tomorrow when I finally find the demonstrators to grill them over this, which isn't anywhere near enough time, and since it is last minute there is no chance in Hell of getting an extension even though I presented my problems days in advance.
Much crapness is implied in this rubbish.
The moral of the story is I would have had a completed B-grade report finished by now if I didn't try and do the right thing and research the materials we are working with, especially when Deakin has either provided me with outdated experiments or a severe lack of information.
Time for me to get some sleep. I have a feeling I am going to be doing a LOT of fast typing tomorrow afternoon. May 09 Just a couple of points.I have two points to crap on about today. I feel they are both terribly important, which is a pretty good indication that they probably have no significant bearing on anyone. Even with that said I am certain at least one idiot is going to take the time to read this nonsense.
My first point is how annoyed I am at every single television statement for getting excited over the Beaconsfield incident. I didn't particularly feel like I needed the small amount of time I spend watching television to be constantly interrupted to let me know that drills take time to tunnel through rock.
I would have been quite happy with perhaps a small mention every couple of days in regards to the incident, but to have every bloody station send reporters over to Tasmania and broadcast every news report from out the front of a mine just pissed me off.
Seriously, if a mine collapsed who do you expect to get trapped? My bet is on miners. Guess who got trapped! It was miners.
The next step was to locate them. This was one of the highlights of the incident for me. The news coverage pretty much stopped and was reduced to simply stating that rescuers were looking for to miners yet to be located.
Then they found the miners and the news covereage went ape shit. Every single reporter on the mainland migrated to Tasmania and presented a report about every kilo of rubble removed.
Then the recuers got a big enough hole to the survivors big enough to give them food, drink, magazines and such. To me this signifies the urgency of the situation. They seem pretty ok. They aren't going to starve or dehydrate. Essentially they are just locked in a small room with no door for the time being.
Yet for some reason the news had to report on every minor decision the rescue crew made as if it was life or death for the miners and made it out like this had to be done soon or there would be nothing but trouble for everyone despite the fact the miners were recieving all the supplies they needed for the time.
Then they got let out and were ok, which was pretty surprising since they had a stream of food and supplies sent to them and constant medical checks via remote camera.
Now they are doing constant updates on the two guys who survived. I feel sorry for the family of the guy who died but I just can't bring myself to care about the two survivors.
The other thing I wanted to talk about was a cool thing I found out about cheese.
My sister was crapping on about vegetarian cheese so I told her that cheese wasn't made of meat and then she said that cheese was made with animal stomachs and I checked this out with good old Wikipedia and found out that cheese is coagulated with enzymes from the fourth stomach of ruminants (usually from baby cows).
I never knew that about cheese and it has opened up a whole new world of respect for the humble block of tasty cheese. Just remember everytime you enjoy cheese a baby cow has died. Brilliant.
Enjoy cheese. May 08 I'm going to quit university.Quitting uni has suprisingly little to do the the complete crapness of DUSA and the fact that every single person involved with any decision making process at Deakin is a complete tool.
Nor does it have to do with the incredibly large population of vegetarians who are on campus for no other apparent reason than to piss me off.
It has nothing to do with the massive pile of assignments that I have to finish at the speed of light.
It has to everything to do with the fact that my new friend Adam and I have developed a new range of aphrodisiacs and potential repellants and I want to market them and make millions of dollars.
It all goes back a number of weeks to my animal biology lab class. The big task for the day was to disect a worm. To make this easier we had to bathe the worm in a fair amount of water. This caused all the internal organs to float about nicely instead of just clumping together.
While I was in the process of jerry-rigging a system to balance the disection tray very precariously on a whole variety of different lab objects I somehow managed to spill the entire volume of liquids down the front of my lab coat and pants.
The liquid was quickly named 'worm juice' and I left the room in good humour to get as much of the shit off my pants as possible. Believe it or not, I don't like the attention I get when I have a huge wet stain down the front of my pants, but then again, there is no such thing as bad publicity aparently.
Funnily enough the next night I met the special person currently in my life and things have been great. Well, great apart from when I stir up shit, but that's what I do.
Adam and I laughed about this, but during the next lab we were disecting a snail. I bet you couldn't have worked out that we called the liquid in the snail disection tray 'snail juice'.
Adam decided it was his turn to take a hit for the team and he spilt the 'snail juice' down the front of himself. He was really cool about it too. He even pretended that it was an accident.
It was a fair few days before I saw Adam again and he informed me that he got onto a bit of action the other night. We concluded that 'snail juice' must also be an aphrodisiac, but since snails are considerable slower than worms (which can be surprisingly quick) we decided that 'snail juice' is slower to kick in.
We discussed our find in the latest lab for quite a while and while we were cutting up our latest specimen (a cockroach, possibly one of the stinkiest pieces of shit you can open up) we theorised about the possibly outcomes of 'cockroach juice'.
We agreed that it would probably attract blokes and both of us acted very carefully so our tray would not get spilled.
To our amusement Claire spilled some 'cockroach juice' on her jacket during clean-up. This changed everything.
If it attracted blokes to Claire than it could still be a heterosexual attractant. This made things different as our original thoughts were that it would be a homosexual attractant.
We left with eagerness to hear of what happened to Claire.
We bumped into Claire today and began our interrogation. It turns out her boyfriend was extra affectionate when they first met and then when he found out there were coachroaches involved he did a backflip and went weird for days. We decided that this was inconclusive and we need to run more random test subjects.
With this in mind I have decided to quit uni and chop up animals and pour the fluids mixed with water onto people and monitor the attractant and repulsion based on the animal used.
Nobel prize here I come! May 07 BOB is a good idea and other stories of useless crap.I am happy this week.
There were very few comments, yet just enough to warrant a comment response from me. This says that there is a general agreement with what I have written over the last week, which suggests the population on average has gained intelligence. Good work. Have a biscuit.
I may as well and get on with this crap since I have assignments that must be done.
To annie the blocaholic - I read back over the comment I origionally made to you and I still think I let you off rather light compared to how I would normally deal with a comment like that. I must be slipping in my old age.
I do not see the point in commenting unless it has some purpose or relevant feedback. I justified it because I felt at least Jordan should have some form of clearance in the matter. I have never taken an easy stance on people who come onto my site and waste my time, and I wasn't going to make a special case just because it was someone she knows/is related to.
I have said a good many times that I like to have a bit of an excessive go at people to see how they deal with it. If they have a bit of a stab back without being a complete retard and threatening to kill me I usually end up liking the person. People who run off and have a cry and/or just respond by making baseless threats and spouting rubbish tend to be the people I can happily live without. By my standards I was very light on you, and that was before I knew you were Jordan's cousin. I do actually like random humour, but it is so hard to actually make funny that I suggest most people not even bother with it. At least not on my site. Absurd humour can be absolutely hillarious as displayed by Monty Python and Big Train, yet you didn't succeed with amusing me and I let you know about it. I am picky with my humour and I would be quite happy if a lot of comedians out there decided to quit and find a usefull profession.
I don't expect you to be upset by what I wrote. I have to admit that I would probably feel a degree of satisfaction if you either:
a) Did actually take heed of what I said and became upset
or
b) Came back with something witty.
I do sit back and realise that at times I do make myself look like a dick and it is funny. I am capable of finding my own embarassing moments funny. I am a big boy, I don't upset too easily, although I can get quite defensive when annoyed.
To sum it up, if you don't have anything usefull to say, say it on someone elses site. I take the time and effort to respond to everyone's comment and it does take a lot of both time and effort and when someone leaves useless shit on my site it really does waste my time and it pisses me off, especially when it is just some random crap about penguins and their ability to be shiny. Basically, if you leave a comment, it will get responded to. If you leave a crap comment it won't get responded to in a friendly manner.
I thouroughly enjoy reading Jordan's work. She is indeed a unique individual and her look on life is quite refreshing. I find it quite an honour that she takes the time to come to my site and leave good feedback. I usually look forward to it, even though it takes me a bloody long time to respond to it all.
To fume hombre - My stance on vegetarianism hasn't changed. My lenience towards stupidity is still firmly in place.
To vegetariansareok - I disagree with your username. Perhaps 'Vegetarians are ok in a cheeky white wine sauce' would be a better username.
The Royal is now on the list. Cheers.
To fume hombre - I can't remember the last time I actually used the word 'chump' even though I used to love the TV ads with the Scottish terrier and the phrase 'So chumpy you could carve it'. I prefer to use the word 'chop' instead of 'chump'. May I suggest you not correct my spelling from this point further.
I am still at the fruit shop, but I would really like to give up my early Saturday morning shift. It would be great to get back to Irish and have a bit of a bender again without being worried about getting up at six.
To Nikki - I have no idea why you are iron deficiant. I am neither a doctor nor possesing enough information to diagnose a reason.
Vegetarians being iron deficiant is different from people who are iron deficiant being vegetarians.
To fume hombre - I take very little offence from the work on this site. Don't worry about it. Feel free to shit stir people.
Just don't respond to other people's comments in MY comments section chop. This is my site, I will do the responding. You have your own site, feel free to respond to them there.
To Max - When I saw that Jordan hadn't left a comment this week I felt a bit releaved as I thought it would be a short day, but you have filled her shoes quite well and I now need to go and get some food and drink and prepare to be at my desk for a while.
BOB is a good idea. I cannot stress this enough. Even if I have nothing to do with it, moreso especially if I have nothing to do with it.
A good space is clearly one that doesn't eat a bucket of shit.
It is a site that is coherent, has content that is either amusing (generally) or important.
The HTML of a site is useless when considering sites made with MSN Spaces. They are made to be generic templates to be filled in with unique content not with developmental coding. The whole 'pre-made' site aspect of MSN Spaces eliminates the need for any HTML at all. I don't think I have used ANY HTML since joining MSN Spaces despite the fact that I ran several websites built from the ground up using only notepad and my knowledge of HTML.
If a site involves swear words it should be noted in the description on BOB so the reader has the knowledge to chose whether or not they want to be exposed to course language.
It doesn't matter if people 'like' emo spaces, the idea of BOB was to collaborate GOOD sites. Some people like a lot of things that aren't good. I thought that one of the purposes of BOB was to bypass the type of people who do go to and make websites that are pieces of shit.
The social bunny made a comment that pissed me off. I still went to his site and read it. I don't remember hating it. Eventually it will be listed on my site as either a site I read, a site I might read or as a site that should be destroyed.
A site being good has nothing to do with whether or not I like it. Hunters and Collectors are a good band, do I like them? No, I hate just about everything they have ever released. Football is a good sport, do I like it? Not really, I can think of heaps of things I would rather do than go to a game of footy. Something being good has nothing to do with the degree of which you like/dislike it.
A better idea to decided on whether the site is worthy (this word works better than 'good' in the context of BON) of BOB it might be worth making a "BOB Council" who view the sites in question and perhaps some kind of majority or unanimous decision is needed to get on the BOB lists. That way there is a less chance that useless crap will get listed as long as the council is of decent quality.
Forcing a link is probably the shittest thing you could have done. If people like getting hits from BOB they will more than likely link it anyways. It will be getting a link from me if it still exists by the time I get around to it.
Spaces always start off slow. I used to get about ten hits a week for my first six months and now I can't remember the last time I got less than 150.
If you have a council you can at least shift the blame of mate's spaces getting linked. 'I like your site but the rest of the guys think it's a shit hole, oh well'.
The only list I have ever tried to get onto was Jordan's, and that was just to steal your glory of being listed as a rare bloke who writes well. I have never claimed that I am not an arsehole.
Mate, I have only added one link in ages, and not because I don't think there are no sites worth reading, I am just too lazy. Your site is destined to be on my approved list, I just haven't been arsed adding it yet. It will be there.
Don't lie to me though Max, I have seen how yu keep track of how many people link to you. You crave it. Deal with it.
You MUST resurrect BOB. Start a council. Keep it confidential and use that to sort the sites out. You said your goal was to get 100 sites linked. I think that is very acheivable and don't be afraid to get in the faces of your mates and tell them that their sites aren't good enough and that if they want them to be good enough than they have to work harder and put more effort in, thus making BOB a more stringent judge.
I doubt that anyone who is legally sane would find fault with my article about the eveolutionary beneficial advantages of eating meat and how it is out right not natural to not eat meat.
Cheers mate, I have been dying to be a bartender for a while now and after seeing a lot of my mates get jobs in the field has only made me want it more and now I live my dreams. I rule.
That took me way too long. Time to go and write about the changes in RNA sequences in Arabidopsis after various biotic and abiotic stresses. My life is so exciting. May 04 I asked for this.I spent a bit of my downtime due to illness thinking about what I can write on this space to make for an interesting read, but alas, I have been forced to put it all aside due to recent allegations that I have backflipped on my standings on vegetarianism.
I was both shocked and horrified when I heard these claims, especially when I tend to go out of my way to eat animals as opposed to eating a meal exclusively made out of plants. At one stage I considered eating my suede jacket as I knew the suede was once part of a cow.
I have always stated that there are several circumstances for which I tolerate vegetarianism. One being religion. I don't mess with other people's religions providing they allow me to continue my existence as a red meat loving atheist in peace.
I was recently presented with a reason for vegetarianism being 'to piss off my parents'. I was a bit torn by this one. Although I value the desire to rip flesh apart with my teeth very high I also respect the desire to piss other people off for no good reason.
The person who did use the 'pissing off the parents' reason has also cooked me meals with meat in it, therefore facilitating my desire to eat things that once had a face.
Now for the big statement none of you could have seen coming:
I still don't believe in vegetarianism.
In my honest opinion it is completely un-natural. Our bodies simply don't produce certain proteins that are essential for healthy life. These proteins are found readily in red meat, thus it is likely that we evolved eating meat and are still dependant on it. It is possible (yet so extremely unlikely it's not funny) that someone out there has a mutation that allows them to produce these proteins and their componants, yet this would require a very different biochemical system inside their body.
I imagine that this hypothetical person would still probably suffer from iron deficiancies.
For the clowns out there that are thinking 'I'm not made of metal, why do I need iron?', I will lay down the simple answer. You only need iron if you like the ability to circulate oxygen to your brain and other vital organs.
Iron is a componant of haem. Haem is a componant of haemoglobin. Haemoglobin is found in the red blood cells of mammals and it binds to four oxygen molecules and transports them to parts of the body that needs oxygen.
Basically, iron is pretty damn important. Since red meat is packet with iron and essential proteins it seems to make sense to eat a few slabs of meat as opposed to radically changing your whole diet and possibly taking suplements in the form of tablets to make up for a readily available dietry componant.
The structure of teeth in humans also support an evolutionary basis of eating meat.
We have cuspids, also known as canines.
They function to hold food in place while it gets torn apart. There aren't many plants out there that need to be held still to be eaten. These teeth evolved from a hunting past. When the prey was caught and torn apart. Dogs still act this way. Dogs also have large cuspids. They are the big fang-like teeth in their jaw.
Horses don't eat meat at all. They don't have cuspids either. Just about every single herbiverous mammal lacks cuspids while every carnivourous mammals not only have cuspids, but also extra teeth designed solely for sheering meat.
Humans are omniverous. We have simply evolved to eat both meat and plants and our bodies just don't work properly without meat.
For my second last pro-meat point; the taste. There is something beautiful in the taste of a properly cooked piece of meat. Be it a spit roasted pig or a rare steak, the taste is always great. Go to a restaurant and watch people order food. See how many say 'I'll have the chicken parma with salad' as opposed to 'I'll have the salad with a chicken parma'. Not going to happen. People desire the meat. They crave it. It's evident in kids. They don't like to eat their greens. I don't hear many complaints of kids who eat all their salad and don't like the taste of meat. Never happens.
I'll tell you a quick yet true story from when I was younger. Mum and Dad like to remind me of this story whenever my sister (a vegetarian) is being troublesome.
Way back when I was a little kid and I was decided that I didn't want animals to die so I told my parents that I was going to be a vegetarian.
They responded by telling me that being a vegetarian meant I couldn't eat any kind of meat, including roasts.
Realising my stupid error I retracted my desire to become a vegetarian and took a new stance in which I now try to eat as many animals as I can in any one meal.
The last point for pro-meat is the satisfaction of being on top of the food chain.
Basically, we rule. If an animal looks tasty we kill it and eat it. Satisfaction. That is our advantage. If we want we can eat crocodiles, or dog, or if you live in Germany and post wanted ads in the right paper, you can eat other people.
Cows are big animals and usually hang around in big numbers that can be quite intimidating. But last time I checked, they were between the buns of my hamburger. Satisfying.
A roast covered in gravy. That translates to meat covered in more meat. Most likely from a different animal. That means that at least two animals died for me to have one meal.
I think I have made my point. Nature has selected for humans to eat meat. We are made to do it. We even desended from hunter-gatherer societies.
We rule. Make it your goal to eat an animal larger than you today! May 03 I'm a baretender, I'm OK, I tend all night and I sleep all day...That's right arse-bandits. I got the job.
I am not the Clarendon's newest bartender.
I would like to say it has been my life long dream, but really it has only been my goal for a bit over a year. At least my goals are accomplished and I can now have weekends on both sides of the bar. I finally have a legitimate excuse to use all my shiny bar tools that I bought ages ago before I worked at the footy club. I better practice that useless spinning crap for the bar-blade. That is very important.
The manager is meant to call be by Sunday to let me know when I am working next. This time for solid cash, unlike all that trial work I did out of the kindness of my heart. And who said I wasn't a good bloke. I always try to give my time to facilitate in the degredation of cognition in bar patrons.
I am very excited by this and I will indeed be wasting my entire first payment on useless rubbish as is my tradition of spending when at a new job. I might even be able to give away my very early morning shifts on Saturday at the fruit shop, which means I can kick back and enjoy the late night pints at Irish once more and not feel guilty about going to K-Caff for the magnificant K Special burger until three in the morning when I have to be at work in a few hours. Life is good.
I have done three of their four busiest shifts during my trial and I feel I managed really well. I never really had the feeling of being over-run so I am hoping that is a good sign.
If I get the footy shifts I expect to see all the champion Geelong supporters out there swing by both before and after the game for a drink. The pints go down well and they are reasonably priced.
I am going to wander off before you all get sick of me being in a good mood. May 01 Why do you antagonise me?This is a complete waste of time. I only managed to make one non-comment response article over the week and I find myself giving in and getting back to the useless crap that you guys leave in my comment section.
I do have another cold at the moment so there is a good chance that I might be stuck home with nothing to do except write up a few articles for my amusement. Either that or sleep. I haven't decided which to do yet.
Anyway, here's the crap you wanted.
To Mr_Jack - I feel a bit sorry for you since you have to go to LINC considerably more than I, but that degree of sorrow is nearly immediatly countered by a feeling of almighty joy when I realise that I have no particular reason to ever go back there again.
I don't think it particularly matters what time I get to the games since it is a very rare occurance when I play. You guys have learned all you can from me. My services are no longer required.
To Manager - Wow, I cannot stress how much I like being called 'Master Rone'. It has a nice ring to it. I am now at odds as to whether I should opt to be called 'Master Rone' or 'Supreme Overlord'. The decisions I have to make are so painstaking.
Your page sounds a bit like the 'White Pages' which I have to admit is one of my favourite books to read in front of an open fire during the cold Winter months. I would go as far as saying that I support the 'White Pages' especially since there are a lot of McDonalds in there and it's hard to trace my name out of it.
I had a read over your rules and I am not particularly fond of the rule that states if I don't link to you than my site will not be listed. I didn't realise that when you said you were only linking good sites that you only considered sites good if they support you. Sounds like a bit of a sell out to me. If you were really concerned with whether sites were good or not you would not need criteria as fickel as 'does the site link to me?'. Reminds me of all the twelve year olds out there with their sites that constantly hassel people to link to them with the promise that they will link in return just so they can get as many links out there wo their own b-grade site.
In your efforts to remove dodgy sites from MSN have you considered harassing other sites until they put their site on private access only so random people cannot access them at all? I find that this works very well.
I would like the power to remove any site from your directory for no other reason than 'i don't like them'. I think this would garner greater participation from me.
I do agree with you that my site is the greatest ever made by anyone at any stage in history and I do indeed hate retards. (It is worth noting that by mentioning 'retards' I am not refering to mentally handicapped people, but instead people who are clinically mentally fine and yet choose to act like a complete dickhead ie; Ian Thorpe. I mean no offence to actually retarded individuals by refering that they are similar to Ian Thorpe, for that I am truly sorry).
I think that I will humour you and put in a list that speaks of your site in a derogatory manner, for you did not mention that positive support of your directory is required.
I have no real desire to sieze control of MSN however. Many people seem to hate them, but I have no ill feelings towards them. They give me an easy to use website development system for free, and what can I say, I like free shit.
If I start recieving more knobs commenting on my space thanks to you linking to me you will be the first to hear about it.
I don't like the way you are trying to syphon off my loyal readers. I am a possessive jealous man (with bad spelling) and I don't want anyone sharing my precious readers. My link to your site will be in the hardest place to access on my site so I comply with your rules and my fan base stays mine. I like that plan.
As I said, if you are truly concerned about making your directory anything other than a sham than you will not require a link from participants.
Reading your comment was a waste of time, and I am well aware that I don't need to respond to any comments made by anyone. I do so because I chose to and my choices are far superior to anyone elses.
To Jordan - Good to have you back. I will now go and gather a copious amount of food as responding to your comments always takes a good deal of time away from my busy schedule of sitting around and staring blankly at the wall.
I don't mean this to be particularly harsh, but the fact that Annie is your cousin bears no impact on my comments made about her. I did note that she was random, yet I did not appreciate that she was random, and I am yet to appreciate that she is random and I will probably never appreciate that she is random. Non-senssical random comments do not impress me one bit and I do not apologise for that. I think it has been made fairly clear in the past that if someone makes a comment that I do not appreciate I let them know it. The fact that your comments and even the articles posted on your site display very good structure and coherency does you much justice in my opinion, yet the fact that you cannot pass these same lessons onto your young apprentice is a little bit sad. It takes a far greater control of 'random humour' than saying that penguins can be shiny to get my respect. If I went to a comedy show (which I occasionally do) and they came out with a comment like penguins can be shiny I would boo them. I am not being specifically cruel to your cousin, I am simply not selling out my character beleifs based entirely on relations to people who I respect.
When it boils down, she made a comment of entirely no value on my site and you claim she did not do it to entertain me, than may I ask what the purpose of the comment was? And I will ask one further question; what do I normally do when someone makes an entirely useless comment on my site?
As you can see I did not go out of my way to be harsh to her but I stayed true to how I respond to comments I do not like and I make no apologies for it. A little bit of research (or perhaps even some wise words from the person who took her on as an apprentice) would have pointed this out to her. She may be a very lovely person, but from her comment this was not evident and all that was achieved was that she annoyed me. Perhaps she could display her lovliness to a greater degree by a plethora of flattering comments as opposed to random gibberish that can only induce annoyance from someone who actually appreciates humour.
I am not messing with family loyalty. I did not attack her for no reason. She made a crappy comment and I responded in a manner in which I respond to all crappy comments. I don't recall a time when I asked you to turn your back on her. If she makes a good comment then she will recieve good feedback, but you know me better than that Jordan. You know how I act when someone annoys me. Don't claim that I am playing with family loyalty.
More importantly I would like to put on my serious face and act all stern and ask very nicely for you not to compare me criticising bad random humour with the appreciation of ANZAC day. In no way is the lack of politeness towards annoying comments comparable to paying respect to the men and women who gave their lives serving this country so we can live in freedom. I find that comparison insulting. There are a countless amount of jokes about bagpipes, and many of them quite funny, but anyone who can make jokes or criticise the ANZACs is a cold heartless bastard who does not even deserve to live in this great country of ours.
I am glad I made it on your list, especially when it detracts from Max's glory a bit. That is always the highlight of my day.
Your antagonising has been noted. At least you like my site.
Unless someone annoys me or is incredibly stupid I am usually nice to them. I just have very little tolerance for stupidity.
I really have to get off my arse and go down to the video rental shop to rent 'Napoleon Dynamite' so I can sit back on my arse and watch it.
There was a degree of shock when I saw how small your last comment was. I thought the whole world had gone topsy turvey, but then I realised that Ian Thorpe was still a knob-jockey and everything made sense again.
Next time you run out of words I expect a comment comprised entirely of interpretive dance. How you make that comment is your own problem.
I like disecting things, and I usually don't get freaked out by the site of my own blood, yet it is a whole different story when I see another person bleeding. We still get to disect some birds and fish this year. I look forward to it, yet I doubt it will compare with the creepy satisfaction gained from peeling the skin from a cane toad.
My good mates know who everyone in my stories are, and everyone else can go get stuffed.
One of my most hated things are shitty sites that go one about how great all their friends are and basically crap on about people I have never met and thus remove all desire to meet them. I feel the best kind of story is the one that can involve someone you have known for years and just give the information needed for the story instead of side-tracking with useless information that detracts from the overall story.
I don't particularly like writing about the mundane. I find it boring. The world has no particular desire to know what I eat for breakfast or where I buy my pants from. I do find your articles to be about the obscure mundane and makes for good reading.
I would have to say that I was torn between missing you and enjoying the hours of free time gained from not writing incredibly huge comment responses.
I was mistaken about the link to Max's site. I will eventually get around to it. Maybe.
To the-social-bunny - Wow. To think I made all the effort of explaining how much I don't like bad random humour only to have some other chop do it too.
These are the exact kind of posts that waste everyone's time.
However, I don't know what to say about this one. It is pure shit. Perhaps I will be extremely fortunate and find out that the cock who made that comment was hit by a bus and I no longer have to deal with the utter crap that they obviously find themselves clever posting.
I might find myself luckier still and find that perhaps that BOB website crap will stop sending dickheads who make useless random comments onto my site.
Finally, I will stop short and offer one suggestion for you mate. Go and get a short length of rope. Tie one end aroung the hand railing of a large bridge and tie the other end firmly around your neck. Then just jump over the railings and see if you can write a useless comment before you run out of air.
To Jordan - Again.
The whole staying up thing didn't work out too well. I wasn't late, but it was close.
Regardless of your small child, I hope both of you took some time to reflect on the sacrifices made by the men and women who laid down their lives for us all.
I used to be a night person, but thanks to work and uni, I have found myself naturally waking up early and alas, falling asleep early too. Oh well, it happens to the best of us. And by 'the best of us' I am of course refering to me.
Your aunt is the exact kind of vegetarian that I hate with all the passion I can muster. I am glad that you can see the amazing nutritional value that is gained from eating other animals.
I was struck with an interesting thought the other day when sushi was mentioned. Sushi is wrapped in seaweed, which is an algae, not a plant as often mistaken. The plant kingdom is the kingdom eaten by vegetarians and I was curious as to whether vegetarians were opposed to eating organisms from the kingdom protista, which is the kindgom algae is from. Just seemed odd to me that they would discriminate openly against the animal kindgom and yet gorge themselves on the organism of other kingdoms.
This may seem a bit of a back flip, but my problem with vegetarians is very specific. If someone doesn't want to eat meat, go ahead, but don't be a retard and pretend it's ethically better for animals and don't you dare stop me from eating my beloved meat. I had a lamb shank with extra gravy the other day and it was to die for. Well, at least the lamb died. I had to hold it by the bone and tear the meat off the bone with my teeth. I felt like a big brave caveman. I liked that feeling.
Even vegetarians will die one day and all those little worms that are out for a good meal will have a great feast on them regardless of how nice to animals the vegetarians thought they were during life.
Thank you for taking the effort to observe the proper respect for the ANZACs.
Every time I had a drink while on the medication I got the flu. That's not very fun, but at least I have finished my course of drugs now.
To Spewgirl - My best effort in killing ants involved a home made flame thrower made from a cigarette lighter and a can of deoderant. It took my a minute to realise that I was burning them off the wooden skirting board, but they didn't come back in a hurry.
Anyone who can eat the Irish Murphy's Irish Stew with a pint of Guinness is nothing short of a hero in my books.
To fume hombre - It doesn't matter that they don't eat much, especially since they don't come in and eat as opposed to taking all the food they can and stockpiling it in their nest.
The moral is that the crumbs they take are mine, and I reserve the right to eat them if I feel the need. I hate the way ants are organised. I hate ants. End of story. I used to let spiders run lose in my room so they would eat any ants that came in.
I don't know what to think of that BOB website. I will investigate it a bit more.
To Christine - For some reason I find ants on my arm all the bloody time. And not as if they crawled off my sleeve. In the middle of my arm. It freaks me out. I just have to squash ants one at a time. It can take ages.
It's good to hear that you are better again.
I drank twice while on the medication and both times resulted in me getting a cold. That was no fun. But I finished the medication today, so as soon as my cold goes away I'll be apples.
To Nikki - I have already been told about my typo. I is just habit for me to put a 'g' after 'in'. I don't think I am going to change it for a while. Just to rile people up.
Are you suggesting there was something weird about serving three non consecutive terms as prime minister in the space of ten years?
That's all I can be fucked writing today boys and girls. Remember, if you are ever feeling upset, send me money. I like money. |
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