A tip for young players

October 9, 2009

It’s time to leave the party when:

A) You are pouring rounds of shots, the main ingredient of which is ‘Blue’
B) You are humming the cantina song from Star Wars
C) You are challenging Navy divers to a holding your breath competition.
D) All of the above, simultaneously.


Ben reviews: Every Episode of Madmen ever made.

October 7, 2009

Scene: Two guys in very expensive looking suits sitting amongst meticulously researched period furnishings. After all, it is the 1960s.

Guy 1: Oh my! Its ten am! It must be time for some scotch! After all, it is the 1960s!

Guy 2: but of course sir! I hate to be presumptuous as my name tag clearly states “Young Turk gunning for your job” but perhaps you would like a cigarette also? After all, it is the 1960s!

Guy 1: But of course you annoyingly ambitious young scamp who reminds me more than a little of myself! Let me just finish this cigarette which I am currently smoking! After all, it is the 1960s!

There is a knock at exquisite panelled mahogany door. The men pause briefly to admire the sweeping expanse of Guy 1’s office, taking in the tasteful and period appropriate decor and musing to themselves upon how impressive this will all seem to someone say, fifty years hence. The door opens and a mousy looking woman enters. Her eyes say “I’d be totally hot if I took off this pointy cone bra and let my hair down and shook it about, just so”.

Secretary lady: Oh, hello gentlemen, I was just checking to see if everything was okay? Perhaps you’d like to make an inappropriate comment about my bottom? After all, it is the 1960s!

Guy 1 and Guy 2: Ha! Broads! They sure are dumb but cute in that curvy way that will seem charmingly incongruous to later audiences should this one day become a serial on the television!

Guy 1: Well enough frivolity for one hour! I’m off to get laid! After all, it is the 1960s!

Guy 2: (nudging and winking) Off to see your beaten down but beautiful suburban housewife who is struggling under the burdensome expectations of the faded American dream? Working herself into a socially unacceptable mental disorder on account of worry about keeping herself beautiful, maintaining a tidy home, raising your generic children and the looming threat of nuclear war with the reds? After all, it is the 1960s!

Guy 1: My wife? Don’t be preposterous! I’m off to see my mistress, a heretofore unknown archetype – she’s single and likes it, involved in the arts, and lives in a stylish loft apartment! Weird I know, but hey! it is the 1960s!

Guy 2: You old dog you! How I admire you whilst also blatantly plotting your demise! Another cigarette?

Guy 1: Of course! After all, it is the 1960s!

Guy 1 stubs his half smoked LUCKY STRIKE cigarette out on the carpet, a previously unnoticed man of colour, wearing a satin waistcoat and bow-tie leaps out of a shady corner and expertly sweeps up the cigarette butt. The others pay no heed to him at all. After all, it is the 1960s!

Roll credits.

Haiku Review

October 6, 2009

Wherein your oft absent host reviews restaurants you will never see or eat at, in Haiku form.

For our debut:

The Clay Oven – Adliya

Are you guys open?
Wear some more perfume lady.
Pretty good korma.

Lessons learnt, poolside

October 4, 2009

The old “sneak up behind the guy threatening to push the girl into the pool and push them BOTH into the pool” bit is a lot less fun when you consider that everybody carries a thousand dollars worth of electrical equipment on their person at all times these days.

If I knew nothing else about Australia…

June 1, 2009

Aside from what I observed at last week’s Australian Society Dinner, I would think:

1. Oily, shirtless American Marines are an important national symbol of some sort, as they both opened the show and circulated all evening, bringing joy to the heart of many a ‘just one more wine dear’ middle-aged woman (and several men I’m sure).

2. Aboriginal people look just like Filipino people, but with paint on. Also whenever they appear they are accompanied by jazz/ballet dancers and piped Yothu Yindi

3. Kylie Minogue’s hits are only to be performed by men in drag.

Actually that last one might be true.

The only thing that stopped the whole evening from being deeply racially offensive was the slathering of absolutely bizarre homo-eroticism.

That’s Australia fer ya.

Things I did tonight instead of writing this blog post

May 26, 2009

1. stayed late at work to attend a staff meeting
2. ate delicious vegan hot dogs with salsa.
3. ate turkey jerkey thus rather defeating the purpose of the above.
4. played Lego Star Wars for about an hour (or two)
5. went to the gym
6. Avoided looking at the pile of marking sitting on my desk.
7. wrote THIS blog post.

Normal programming will resume soon.

If you think punk’s dead you haven’t met my friends

May 17, 2009

They’re at it again and again and again.

Today I arrived home to find a mysterious package awaiting me, bulging with the mysterious but instantly recognizable outline of a 7 inch (italicise at will).

I vaguely remembered buying a record online at some point from somewhere, but couldn’t actually recall who or what or where.

This is what lay therein:

Public Utility Complaint

That is:

1x Manila envelope on which were written the words “Hello from Philadelphia! DIY Punk to Bahrain!”

1×7″ record on clear blue vinyl (1 of 100 pressed)

1x Booklet outlining the current practices of various Philadelphan Utility companies and their penchant for cutting off essential services (heating, electricity etc) to some of the city’s poorer residents during winter.

1x Record sleeve with photograph of Dan Yemin and cuddly toy

All of which (barring the record itself of course) was made BY HAND. By an actual person. In a smelly garage somewhere in Philadelphia.

Total cost: $9 US (inc shipping).

And this is but one of the reasons I love this music.

Oh, for those playing at home the band is Amateur Party, and the 7″ is titled Public Utility Complaint.

Their distro describes them as:

Thoughtful, politically oriented, DC-sounding punk from members of KILL THE MAN WHO QUESTIONS, OFF MINOR, LIMP WRIST, and ARMALITE. For fans of the DC/Dischord sound with an added layer of real catchiness and fun.


Would you like larvae with that?

May 16, 2009
I guess he/she didnt eat much.

I guess he/she didn't eat much.

This made me chuckle

May 12, 2009

Because I’m very, very tired.

From the label of the bottle of whiteboard cleaner upon my desk:

“Strong” White board Cleaner spray type.

this product is made and refined from natural, eatable sea salt and fresh cocos. Nc harm in human’s skin, chemical-free ingredient is the Most ideal and multi-fuctional cleaning fluid for environment protection. Abilities of anti-rust and resolving dirty part strongly and Rapidly.

Yih Thank

And who hasn’t wanted their dirty part resolved strongly and rapidly at one time or another.

Ten Superman comic plots I’ve thought of, that have probably already been done.

May 6, 2009

1. Superman gets a puppy. The puppy is made of Kryptonite.

2. Lex Luthor injects Superman with nanobots. Which are made of Kryptonite.

3. Lex Luthor puts a lump of Kryptonite in a pillow case and totally goes to town on Superman with it.

4. Superman breaks a fluroescent lightbulb, flooding the room with Krypton gas. He panics momentarily until he realises that actually Krypton gas has no relation to Kryptonite which is totally made up.

5. Lex Luthor sends Clark Kent an anonymous bunch of super-flowers, with a return address. Clark sends a thankyou note to the address, but Lex, knowing Clark’s movements, replaces the mailbox with one made of Kryptonite.

6. Lex Luthor gives Superman some candy. Or Kandy. Because its made of Kryptonite. This gives Superman a Kavity. When he goes to the dentist to have it filled, the dentist is actually Lex Luthor and fills his tooth with Kryptonite.

7. Although deadly in large quantities, Superman realises that a small dose of Kryptonite, cut with a base mineral such as biKarbonate Soda, actually makes him feel ‘kinda funny and cool’. What begins as a recreational flirtation with Kryptonite intoxication (or “greening”) soon becomes an addiction. In no time at all Superman is starting each super-day by smoking unrefined Kryptonite off tin-foil, just to feel ‘normal’. After waking up in an alleyway with a nose bleed and soaked in super-urine (with a vague recollection of destroying Wayne Manor with his heat vision), Superman enrols in a 12 step program. Unfortunately it is run by Lexcorp and the 12th step is Kryptonite.

8. Superman ruthlessly slaughters scores of Crytpozoologists, before realising that the word is spelled with a C and has nothing to do with nefarious schemes to breed a race of super-strong Kryptonite imbued Gorilla warriors. His misdirected murder spree distracts him for long enough for Lex Luthor to breed a race of super-strong Kryptonite imbued Gorilla warriors

9. Superman specifically asks the pizza place not to put any Kryptonite on his pizza. When his pizza arrives, it totally has fucking Kryptonite all over it. The delivery guy tells him to stop being such a pussy and just pick it off.

10. Superman spends an entire comic book sitting in his fortress of solitude, grappling with his deep seated feelings of abandonment for being sent into space by his parents. Then something happens involving Kryptonite.