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Archive (September 2003) 29th September, 2003 Goh just pointed out to me that there's a service out there called Fuckster, where you can check out who's fucked who through various degrees of separation. Now that's what people really want: A place to brag about the insane numbers of people that they've duped into sleeping with them. Or so you can check out your fuck-tree and then say "Yeah, I had sex with this girl who had sex with this guy who had sex with Kevin Bacon. So... I've sorta had sex with Kevin Bacon." And yes, I did speel idealogy wrong in previos update. Thanks 2 Goh 4 pointing out 2 mi. Oh, and here's something funny that Goh received at work: OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO STOP BILLING ME MY PARENTS ARE GONNA KILL ME WHEN THEY FIND OUT PLEASE STOP FUCKING BILLING ME PLEASE PLEASE SORRY FOR SWEARING JUST CANCEL MY FUCKING ACCOUNT PLEASE SORRY AGAIN. --- And in other news, I've missed the last two episodes of The Gilmore Girls. This is becoming a really bad habit of mine... I must step up my efforts! ---
The Vikings are 4-0! They just totally trashed the 49ers 35-7! That's a fucking amazing score! Randy Moss is totally da bomb! --- The Pimpathon contest is still about as successful as Gigli. 28th September, 2003 I just watched Van Wilder with Simon today... and for the entire running time of the movie I could not get over how much Ryan Reynolds' ("Berg" from 2 Guys & a Girl) mannerisms totally resembled Jason Lee's! I mean, I felt Ilike I was watching a pseudo Jason Lee... they even look alike in certain angles! Oh, and did you see Tara Reid in full hockey gear? So hot! Want to touch her heine. --- I'm looking through Friendster now... You all know Friendster, don't you? It's that Internet service that's supposed to show how you're linked to everyone in the world (or at least, everyone in the world signed up in Friendster) in various degrees of separation and to open our horizons by introducing people to FoaFs (Friend of a Friend). But of course, we all know that it's really just for people to show how cool and popular they are by proving that they have hundreds and hundreds of friends. It's kinda like an online version of the way Marc likes to pretend he knows the world by walking around and introducing everybody as "his good friends" even though he can't even be bothered to remember their names. I dunno... I don't really get this whole Friendster craze, to be honest. Crailtap (the Girl skateboards site that Nate frequents) has a whole Friendster Friday thing going for a while (I don't know... I don't go there anymore since all they ever write about now is Karl Malone), and everyone seems to be out on some mad dash to get as many of their friends and acquaintances to sign up for Friendster, and more importantly list them as their friends. The making more friends ideology behind the service is admirable, but like I said before, I honestly don't think that's what most people use it for. I mean, do people actually sleep better at night because they've got over two hundred names listed as their friends? I mean, is it more comforting to know that should some stranger stumble across your Friendster listing, he or she would see that you have a crap load of friends and immediately think to themselves: "Wow this hepcat's got a shitload of friends. He/she must be amazingly popular, really cool, and so totally NOT a loser." There's a trend that I've spotted in Friendster, that's just totally gross. If you look at the Friendster listings of pretty girls, you'll see a HUGE list of "friends". Why the italicized text and quotation marks? Check out this testimonial... oh wait, before we do, let's clarify what a testimonial is. In my oh so humble opinion, a testimonial on Friendster is a little declaration written by someone who has known you for long enough to give an accurate account of how nice (or shitty) a person you are. That done, let's look at this testimonial: "Justin,
09/28/2003: I'm not sure what you read into that, but this is what it says to me: "Hi, GGG. You probably don't know who I am, but I think you're hot. If I publically kiss your ass, will you give me your phone number and suck me off in the near future? Otherwise, please add me to your list of friends anyway, so that when ppl check out my Friendster listing they'll think that I associate with models like you. Please please please? I mean, it will only take 10 seconds of your time to approve me and add me to your list. Likewise, should you decide to suck me off, that will also only take up 10 seconds of your time." I even read one that goes: "JumpinJalepenis,
07/18/2003: It's always terms like "would", "probably", "want to meet her" and shit. You could sum it up as: "I don't actually know you, but I don't want anybody else. When I think about you I touch myself." I'm really glad I'm not some hottie, so I don't have to deal with all these loser FoaFs or ex-school classmates that you never cared about then nor care about now, just totally creeping up out of the woodwork trying to kiss your ass because Friendster has given them another open channel to exploit in a vain attempt to worm themselves into your panties. I mean... just because you were introduced to some guy and/or had some idle chit-chat about who's getting the better deal in the J'Lo/Ben Affleck split-up, does that mean you want to drop to your knees and give him head? Do you have "Ask me for a charity fuck" stamped on your forehead? If you think about it, Friendster is really just a trendy dating service: Just a hip way for desperate and dateless people (not unlike myself) to try to score phone numbers and meet members of the opposite sex without coming across as being desperate and dateless. Why's that? Because in the Interested in meeting people for entry I can choose to enter a neutral entry like "Friends" or "Just here to help" instead of a more accurate but infinitely more pathetic entry like "any reason to stop masturbating". And by doing so I'm automatically not a loser. AS IF! I think I'll leave Friendster alone for now, because I've babbled and ranted enough as it is... So in closing, I'll just say that I've only got a measely 15 friends according to my Friendster profile, so yes it's nothing spectacular and this update was nothing but the ravings of a bitter asshole. 24th September, 2003 I don't like Wednesdays. I've now decided that I totally loathe Wednesdays. Not only is it the day that I have classes scheduled at the dreadful main campus of UNSW, but the last two Wednesdays have been pretty horrible to me. Last Wednesday I got mugged, and today I went into a big panic attack over something totally frightful. I'll recount: So I was out with Nate today, and I had to drop in at the pet store to pick up some birdseed for little Drakey. Now Nate for reasons unknown has a major grudge against the pet store. Not the same way Rhiannon resents pet stores because she can't stand the sight of little puppies being locked up in little enclosures, but simply because he just doesn't like it, to the point where he usually just stands outside and sulks while I make my purchases. I dunno... Maybe as a kid he got locked in a pet store by accident and was raped by the poodles. Anyway, so on the way out he had to make a smart-assed comment and said "Wouldn't it just totally suck if you bought a whole new bag of birdseed, only to find Drakey dead when you got home?" I glared at him with disgust, and insisted that he knocked on some wood immediately. Fast-forward to an hour or so later when I get home, and see:
Needless to say, I started panicking and ran all over the apartment looking under couches and behind curtains, trying to find Drakey's favorite hiding spots. I found NOTHING. I listened really carefully for any signs of Drakey, like whistling or chirping and shit... but I heard NOTHING. So I panicked and started cursing Wednesdays for being days of grief. Luckily, a few minutes after I started plotting to torture and kill Nate I found my little buddy perched on top of one of the Xbox controller cables, with a collection of poop on the floor under him. But still... I hate Wednesdays. --- The moths are back! Those evil winged fucks are back, and I know they're going to start invading my apartment again. Just tonight I've already located and eliminated one of their forward scouts flying around my room light. But that's only one in a large army of moths that will start laying siege into my room within days. I can't stand moths... I HATE THEM ALL! ARGH!!! I hate this warm weather... I hate the bugs it brings with it! Those things are soooo gross. They put the "MOTH" in "EVIL MOTHERFUCKING BUG!" (okay that last call put the "whore" in "horrifying"... but those things are gross anyway) --- Oh... the Pimp-a-thon competition is totally bombing! Well I guess the joke's on me, isn't it? Cos it appears that nobody wants to be the Pimp-master of this site! Oh well... I'll just leave it going anyway... Also... that Message Forum is almost as unused and unappreciated as my libido. And just like my libido, I don't think anyone actually knows it actually exists! So head on over and post... I dunno... defamatory shit cos everyone loves that shit. I know I do. I was supposed to put up a nice little update about my precious little Drakey spending a night sleeping on my desk lamp and pooping all over my desk in the morning... but someone upstairs obviously didn't want me to put up yet another "I love my pet" update, and decided to fuck me up instead. So I was over at Tam and Co's place, and Tam's journalist friend calls her to ask some questions about the recent assaults and murders on asians over here in Sydney. And I was like: "Why didn't she want to ask me about anything?" and then Tam was like: "Well you don't know shit." and then I was like: "Well maybe I do." I guess that was the equivalent of saying "I'll be right back." in a horror movie. On the way home, I decided to cut through a shadowy park, because the tarmac's smoother and it's a better skate than the roadside pavement. And on the way through, I spotted some people that I assumed were JOGGERS. So I slowed down a little, and the next thing I know I feel this body slamming into me from behind the tree (at this point I'd just like to say I now know how one of those pocket passing QB's feel when they get blindside sacked by someone like Warren Sapp). I was about to get up and go "Oh that's fucking funny asshole" when the other joggers joined in and began kicking my ass. I think that was about the same time I stopped referring to them as joggers and started thinking of them as MUGGERS. Yes folks, I got mugged. Of course, I'd like to think of it as getting my ass seriously kicked to the curb. One of them was a complete asshole who kept repeatedly stomping me on my face and ear. I've got footprints on my face!!! Then they pretty much left with my phone, wallet, discman... everything. Well, almost everything. They left my skateboard. I asked if they could leave that, and they didn't seem to want it. And although they were very adamant about taking my discman... they left me my shitty bass-less earphones and stuck them in my pocket. So I skated home and did the usual calling the cops shit. Oh, and of course the first thing I did was take a picture before cleaning up the wound with those alcohol swabs I used to love torturing Nate with:
For once
the blood on my face isn't pimple-related. Later on, when the cops wanted to take a pic of my ear for evidence and shit, I burnt this image for them and they were a bit weirded out about why I had a pre-prepared shot. "Oh... it's for the website." One of them sorta understood. He told Aaron the reason why he joined the force was because he played a lot of Police Quest: SWAT and shit. --- Anyway, some shit happened... and it was kinda an eventful and almost funny night. I spoke to cops, I got to donate my clothes for DNA extraction, get my lock changed (and get a new PURPLE key), I got to befriend Claude the security guard (Jerome is unfortunately sacked now) and soon I'll be questioned by detectives and have my statement taken. If it wasn't for the losing your money and valuables and the getting your ass kicked thing... it wouldn't have been that bad a night. Props out to Aaron who had a shorter response time than the police even though he came all the way from Marsfield (and this was after he dialed the emergency number because he thought I was in the process of being attacked in my apartment), and to the two good samaritans who retrieved and returned my wallet and bag. Of note: One thing I found surprising was that they didn't steal my Marilyn Manson ticket for the gig this Friday. So not only are they assholes, but they're probably Coldplay fans too. Also... not only was I ambushed by muggers today, but I was ambushed by Marc at the UNSW bus stop this morning. Someone upstairs really hates me. Got a mugging story of your own? Post it up in the Forum! "So you
just got tackled off your skateboard... tell me what'cha gonna do? ACT
A FOOL! 14th September, 2003 I just found the following from a Japanese newspaper's website and whoa that's pretty funny. I think guys should really take notes from this and well... not do any of those things listed below. --- Based on the results of its survey, Spa! recreates a bedroom scene that most women would find the absolute pits. The guy fails to wash before starting, then stands defiantly with his hands on his hips while the woman performs fellatio. During foreplay, he licks her eyeballs and uses baby talk to ask her to tongue his anus, holding her head to keep her there while she does so. Insertion could only be called the missionary position if used in the same way to describe how many Catholic priests across the world have treated altar boys. The guy hurls insults at the woman, calling her "bitch" as he thrusts, pinching and slapping her buttocks along the way. He finishes by giving her a facial of the type she'd be unlikely to get in a beauty parlor, then gets her to clean up the condom he used. To top it all off, instead of the gentle caresses she'd like, he persistently asks her: "Did ya cum? Did ya cum?" 13th September, 2003 The new site is here!!! After months of speculation and delays... it's here... and I'm hoping that everyone will like the new look! Before I go on, I'd like to thank everyone who has been supporting this site all along, and especially those of you who have been really helpful in the redesign of the site. Props also to Goh, for helping me get this new site off the ground, and Tam and Co for letting me use their place as a scanning/printing service. Anyway, to celebrate the release of the new site, I'm holding a competition known as: THE DEADPAN ENTERTAINMENT PIMP-A-THON! Yep, I'm asking all of you to pimp this site out to all of your friends for a chance to be the Ultimate Deadpan Pimp-Master! For more information and details, click here.
Yep! You can be just like Snoop! 5th September, 2003
Football season has kicked off! Yep! Football season has started and I am stoked like a pig in shit. And evidently, so is Kimble (he's smiling on the inside). Anyway, nobody cares, so fuck you. --- A really nice guy just got fucked over by a slut so that she could go back to her girlfriend-stealing motherfucker of an ex-boyfriend, so I am officially declaring the this week "INTERNATIONAL NO CURRY WEEK". As much as I like the shit with my beer (of which I would be consuming a lot of on Monday night when I watch the Packers get EATEN ALIVE by the mighty Minnesota Vikings), I feel compelled to declare a total boycott on that stomach-melting crap. It's the least I can do for a pal, since I'm unable to offer any form of condolences otherwise. Sorry dude... you got dealth a shitty hand but it's for the best, you know? That girl's been tainted, so it's better that you find yourself someone new that you can fuck without walking away with a dick that reeks of vindaloo. That's the wrong kinda spice to add into your sex-life. In the meantime, this beer's for you... and here's to hoping that the consumption of curry as a vaginal suppository leads to... well... something bad (aside from smelling like fish curry). I think this update just offended at least 60% of the world's population (even with the good intentions), so I think I'm just going to head to bed now. 4th September, 2003 I just spent seven hours STRAIGHT drawing new graphics for the new site. My neck totally hurts now... and I know the new Marilyn Manson album pretty much off by heart now since I was listening to it on repeat the entire time. Though, Drakey and I kinda like the new album, so it didn't get annoying or anything. 1st September, 2003 There's been a recent wave of birthdays lately (with another few to come) and I've been writing birthday cards. Well, I just realized that I'm really REALLY afraid of writing in cards. Add that to the list of phobias that I have (along with using stairs, getting haircuts, and spiders), because damnit I freak out when I need to write in a card. Why? I think it's because I'm so fucking used to writing in word processors and shit. As I write this now, I can churn out whatever the fuck I want at a good steady pace that's more or less pouring out as soon as I phrase the words in my head. And I can afford to do that because as the end of each sentence I can kick back and read what I've written, going back and editing it for grammatical or spelling errors... or if it's just plain badly written. With the help of my trusty Backspace key, nobody will ever know if I can't speel. This is true with letters to a lesser extent, because if you write the wrong thing or misspell a word in a letter you can cross it out and keep writing. If anything, it just bulks up the letter and makes it look longer. Besides, if you're really unhappy you can just use a new sheet of paper and rewrite the page. But should you fuck up in a card, like you write something and then decide that it sounds dumb and tacky... you're fucked. A card has a limited space for adding your own words, so any crossing out would stand out like a jock in a gay bar. I feel like I totally have to commit to any phrasing before I can even touch the pen to the card. And because I've got commitment issues... I totally FREAK OUT. I assume I'll just write something that I'll regret later on, or word it in a way that totally ruins the next line I had in mind... All this, while worrying that I'll write it badly and it'll end up messy and ugly. So yeah, I panic big time when it comes to writing cards. So if you get a card for me... try to understand that it requires a herculean effort from me to actually committing to writing it, so be easy on me if it comes out like shit. --- Check out the News page too, I put some new stuff up there. --- Went shopping today at Toys R Us. I can't fucking believe that Carebears are $40 a pop! What a gyp! Anyway, it seems that they're bringing all the old skool toys and cartoons back. He-Man's back; the Ninja Turtles are back; Carebears; Strawberry Shortcake; My Little Pony... the old gang's back. Now if they would only bring back Earthworm Jim and Eek! the Cat. Then my fucking contact lens in my right eye tore in half, and I had to walk around with one eye closed like some weird psycho. And unlike that time I watched How to lose a guy in 10 days, now BOTH halves of the contacts were floating around beneath my eyelids. And believe me that's irritating! --- "What's that movie again? Oh yeah... White Men can't play Basketball." - Owen
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