A Candid Interview With Djokovic

The truth? You want to know the truth? Well, where do I start...the truth is that as a player my game really isn’t as good as the other guys on the tour and after having lost to guys like Federer and Nadal so many times I realised I had enough of it. So instead of bouncing the ball maybe ten or twelve times, now I bounce it sixteen to twenty times and hope that my opponent has fallen asleep by the time I serve so that I get a free point. Might sound cheap, but you have to do what you have to do to win. 

Some people call me a smug git, and the truth is I am a smug git, but only when I’m winning. When things don’t go my way I like to scream and shout at my racquet, my shoes, my player’s box, the ball kids, anything helps. But you know, people don’t really give me enough credit I think because being a smug git all the time really takes its toll, especially when you see the fact that I am even a smugger git when I get off the court.

I like to think that I’m pretty funny, you know, I impersonate other tennis players a lot, especially the ones that are better than me like Nadal and Sharapova. But I think Nadal may have taken a bit of anger to my impersonation of him because he never let me win anymore. 

On winning, it seems like I only beat the top guys when they are sick or having an off day or maybe they feel a bit sorry for me being number three for like three years and only having one major which I pretty much win because I was the only man left who wasn’t sick, injured, or too nervous playing in first grand slam final. Last night before the match, I tease Roger about his daughter’s names and he didn’t take it as joke. He said to me, I will play at 60% of my best tonight and I will still win. I guess he needed 65%.

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2010 By The Numbers

I’ve always had a particular love for statistics and last year that love was in overdrive. As some of you know, I decided to recorded every drop of milk that I drank over a one year period (which most people looked at me strangely for when I told them about it, no idea why); also, I watched a shitload of movies and listened to a shitload of songs. So i’m going to compile all these statistics and probably a few other useless little nuggets as well. So enjoy, I guess.

Travel

Thanks to Google Latitude and my awesome phone, I know that I travelled approximately 8000 kilometres this year, and I didn’t even fly anywhere this year!

Laptop Usage

Thanks to Whatpulse I have a bunch of useless and exciting statistics about my laptop usage. I made 728568 keystrokes this year, clicked the mouse 223958 times, and moved it over 24 kilometers.

Tennis

As I am a statistic fiend I record all the information about every tennis match I play. In 2010 I played a total of 89 matches; 59 singles matches and 30 doubles matches. In singles I amassed a 50-4 winning record (with 5 ties) or 93%. My best winning streak was 34 matches and lasted from March until July.

Movies

I watched exactly 400 movies. Now this is due to the fact that when i’m not at uni I have very little of what constitutes as a life, but also due to the fact that I was talking a film subject and that I’m now a film reviewer. So I suppose this outrageous number, is not entirely outrageous considering?

The best film I saw this year was Inception. The worst film was The Raven (and possibly the worst ever).

Music

The number of songs played was 9185. My five most played artists were:

1. Tegan and Sara – 357
2. Rihanna – 326
3. Ennio Morricone – 323
4. Katy Perry – 280
5. Glee Cast – 193

Tegan and Sara, no surprise there, they always come in at number one. And Glee…I blame you Jodie. Haha.

Top 5 tracks were:

1. Don’t Stop Believin’ – 123
2. Teenage Dream – 100
3. The Ecstacy of Gold – 77
4. Bad Things – 71
5. Telephone – 71

Damn you Don’t Stop Believin’ for being so catchy. Favourite album of the year was probably Teenage Dream.

Milk

Here’s the big one. At the start of the year I set myself a rather ambitious goal of 300 litres. Now, I would like to state that our fridge started playing up about three months ago (meaning I could no longer store 3 litre bottles, only 1 litre ones, thus reducing my total drastically). The number of litres of milk I drank this year came in at 273. Which was made up of 201 litres of Dairy Farmers (my favourite), 24 litres of Coles Milk, and 48 litres of strawberry milkshakes, strawberry breakas, and the odd Pauls milks. I also collected all the dairy farmers bottles (they are currently filling up the storage room downstairs). Stay tuned for the video.

So that’s it kids. Hope y’all learned something about the importance of keeping statistics…Until next time.

Sign Up To Faithbook Today

So I had this outstanding idea the other day about a new website called Faithbook, dedicated to the religious to help them find their own. I was bored today and decided to photoshop up a mock-up of that site. This isn't meant to be offensive (well maybe a little), just a bit of fun. So full view this sucker, sucker!

I should really patent this idea.

Pet Peeves

I've been meaning to write this for probably two years, but just haven't gotten round to it. But now, I believe, is as good a time as any to write it. So here it is, my top ten pet peeves.

10. People That Are Just Plain Wrong

You know when you're on a train or something and you here someone say something like "Gah, I'm not an idiot, I know that Paris is the capital of England"? And you just get that cringe, but it's more than that, you feel that impulse to blurt out "You're wrong!" So very, very wrong it hurts. Okay, so my example is a little over-the-top, however, I have heard some shockers in my time. Even the more subtle ones are just so annoying, like when someone misquotes a movie, mispronounces a word, uses less instead of fewer, and who instead of whom. Owwwwf with their heads!

9. Misaligned Picture Frames

This one is pretty annoying because it's not always just a straight forward process in fixing it. You might be, for instance, at a friend's place, or, worse still, a friend's mother's place and you might see a misaligned frame. Now one does not simply walk into another man's house (or that man's mother's house in this example) and start fucking with their shit. So it just sits there nagging at you. Nagging. And it's not like you are going to ask permission the fix it, that's just awkward. Another terrible situation to find yourself in is when you are talking to someone, having a serious heart to heart conversation, and you notice a picture frame which is misaligned. You can't ignore it and your eyes just keep flashing over to it. Next thing you know the person you are talking to is all up in your grillz because they think you don't care about what they are saying, but you totally do, they just don't understand! Those damn picture frames should come with a warning: misaligned picture frames may destroy friendship. But I guess the truth doesn't ship units...

8. Odd Numbers

I have had this peeve for many, many years. It's not like I can't look at or count odd numbers, it's just that i'd much rather an even number given the choice. Even numbers are just so much cleaner, easier to multiply and subtract; they are just better all round. You may think that this peeve wouldn't occur too often but it does, more than you might think. Every time I turn on the television and the volume is 13 or 15 I change it to 14 or 16 because it makes me uncomfortable. I realise this is borderline OCD.

7. People Who Think That Lady GaGa Invented Obscure

Go fuck your own face! That's all.

6. Tangled Headphones

Oh. My. God. Every fucking day this happens to me. Oh, I think I'll grab my nicely coiled up headphones from my bag, only to find that they are completely tangled. And the worst thing about it is that you spend a bit of time being patient and trying to be rational about the whole situation, but fairly soon you devolve into an ape and just start tugging at the wires and screaming "Why the hell won't it just work?!" (What? You don't do that? You're fucking weird). But straight up, the only fucking thing I want tangled up like that is my god damn spaghetti, so it doesn't fall off my god damn fork!

5. Soup Spoons

I know this sounds super weird, but I have something very real against soup spoons. I don't know whether I'd go as far as to say it's a phobia, but it's definitely a pet peeve. I can't stand soup spoons; they are just unnaturally round, don't get me wrong, I'm as big a fan of circles and spheres as the next man, but it just seems to me that there is something so wrong about a spoon being like that. I feel like all spoons should be oval shaped. The only thing worse than soup spoons (apart from the four things below) is eating SOUP with a damn soup spoon! God, I just never liked soup; it's so runny and gross and it's not even filling. Your grandma takes you round to one of her dangerously old fashioned friend's houses and she dishes up some tomato soup and after you finish it because the pot plants are all dead she's like "Well I'm full up, how about you sonny?" NOOOO, it's not filling. At all. Dear god, I'm pretty sure I've had nightmares about soup spoons.

4. People Who Misuse The Word Literally

"Oh ma gawd Christie, like me and Becky were at the mall the other day and we saw Justin Bieber, I like literally died of shock." Um, NO, you're fucking wrong. The worst thing about this is it's so damn pervasive; it's fucking everywhere, like a god damn plague.
"Yeah we literally just got here." NO, you just got here, there is no fucking literalness about it!.
"We are literally in New Farm." WRONG. We are in New Farm.
Dear god. You people drive me fucking insane, LITERALLY!


3. Cold Toilet Seats

You know in winter when it's like so cold that you don't even want to get out of bed, but you need to go to the damn toilet? Isn't that just the worst? You sit down on the freezing cold toilet seat and witness your entire body ripple with goosebumps. And you've got to sit there far longer than you'd like, just to warm it up and make it a halfway pleasant experience. You thank the living daylights that you don't have one of those stupid fucking metal toilets that you see now and then in public toilets, because your butt would probably stick to it, like a tongue to a pole.

2. Warm Toilet Seats

Ah yes. One thing worse than a cold toilet seat, is a warm one! Like when you're busting to go to the toilet but someone else has just been. You go in there and sit down and you feel the warmth and you know that it was their butt cheeks that produced that warmth, so you sit on it long enough to make it your own damn warmth. Far worse is when you're in public and you see some big, sweaty, hairy man come out of the only available cubicle and you're like gahhh!
I'd also like to share a few other toilet related peeves that I felt didn't particularly need there own numbers. First of all, boys, learn to fucking aim, you've only been doing it for what twenty fucking years?! Second, I hate it when you really need to be somewhere, but you, just slightly more, need to go to the toilet, so you go in there and you start your business and some FUCKHEAD walks in and sits in the next cubicle. Um, no, get out! It's especially bad when they start making noises. Dear god.

Now that's what I call toilet humour *rimshot* Ah-thank you. 

1. Wet Fucking Socks!

Anyone that knows me fairly well, and some that don't know me well at all (it's sometimes the way I break the ice), will know that my least favourite thing in the world is WET FUCKING SOCKS. You'll be out one day, just having received news that you have won the lottery, you've just had a splendid t-bone steak with Diane sauce and then afterwards some delicious pavlova, you leave the restaurant and hit all the green light on the way home, your favourite song comes on your MP3 player. Everything is wonderful. Tip fucking top. And then, unwittingly, you step in a god damn puddle or some bullshit. That's the end of your day right there. Might as throw the lottery money away right now. Your socks are just saturated and not only does that make your feet really fucking cold, it will also make them super smelly when you take them off. Also, wet socks will inherently keep the inside of your shoes saturated. Seriously though, there's not many things in this world more depressing that wet socks, well, I can think of one thing.

Having to walk for 3 hours with wet socks and being unable to listen to music because of your fucking tangled headphones and the two times you need to stop to go to the toilet, it is either cold or fucking warm. Worse still is that you happen to be stuck next a bunch of teenage girls who are remarkably walking at the exact same speed as you the whole time saying things like, "Oh ma gawd, Lady GaGa is so like out there," to which her annoying friend replies, "I know right? She's like literally my idol." Even worse still is that you are so hungry, but the only thing to eat is soup from a damn soup spoon, No thank you, I'd rather starve! And finally, some sadistic fuck thinks it's a funny idea to tag along behind you holding a picture frame askew and misquoting The Matrix, "Do you believe that is H20 you are inhaling at this present point in time?"

How's my Clint Eastwood Gran Torino impression? :D

Where is your god now?

Yesterday I went to a pre-screening of  'Boy', which was very good, but that's not what this is about. I was waiting outside for maybe ten minutes for the doors to open; I saw many weird people, but one particular lady took the cake. She had short braided fluoro-pink hair and was wearing a burgundy suit with a purple cape like monstrosity. Oh and she had a little dog with her. So she walked on by and I thought that was that. But no.

So there I was sitting about three rows from the front, waiting for the movie to start when I see her coming down the isle with a large pink, of course, backpack. She sits down a few seats from me and sets her bag down gently. Halfway through the movie, I happened to glance around the cinema and I couldn't believe my eyes. The woman had her dog on her lap and she was stroking it! It blew my mind, in all sorts of ways. And when the film was over she plonked him back in the bag, zipped it up, and went on her merry way.

Part of me wanted to run up to an attendant and say "that woman has a dog in her bag!" which, let's face it, sounds positively mental. However, I think I was a little too taken aback. Due to this and my thorough enjoyment of the movie, I once again left my $600 phone in the cinemas. Luckily, I remembered in time and ran back to collect it.

...Ah life, you strange, magnificent bastard!

Crisis Averted.

So I decided to go for a morning stroll down to the shops about an hour ago, to get milk. Usually, because it's winter and it's cold, I would just leave my track pants and rainbow woollen socks on, throw on my ugg-boots and be on my way, but today I felt like looking halfway presentable, so I threw on some comfy shorts and, wondering why I don't wear them more often, set off to the shops.

I pick up a three-litre milk, of course, and decide that the two for one cereal deal is just too good to pass up on, so I get two of those big awkward boxes of cereal also. I get a couple of other things and make my way to the register. As I am standing there I feel my pants get looser all of a sudden, I feel around and one of the buttons has fallen straight off. I suddenly remember why I don't wear them any more: the first button fell off about six months ago, the second about four months ago, which means the only thing keeping them around my waist was the third button, and seeing as that had just fallen off my pants were beginning to fall down. I paid for my stuff and sat down on the bench beside the counter, I have no idea why it's there but god am I thankful it is.

So I look around for something to MacGyver my pants with: a piece of string, wire, some blu-tack. Nothing. So I settle for holding all the bags in one hand and putting my other hand in my pocket and using it to hold up my pants. So there I am walking along, freaking out somewhat, but trying to look cool, calm and collected.

I passed about twenty or so people on the way home and none of them suspected my pants could have dropped to the ground at any point; they probably just thought, "hey, that's one cool cat". Well, that's my hope at least.

Crisis averted.

A testament to human nature, perseverance...and stubbornness.

So, at Wimbledon last night there was a match between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut which has been running for exactly 10 hours. It is tied up at 59-59 in the fifth set and will continue for a third day tonight. It really is one of the most fascinating things i've ever seen. I stayed up until 5.30 in the morning just to witness
it first-hand. It really is a testament to human nature, perseverance, belief. Niether man wants to lose, but unfortunately, sooner or later there will be one, but they will both be regarded as heroes. Anyway, whilst watching it, a bunch of funny thoughts came into my head and I thought I'd share them =]

Federer v Falla: What Really Happened

The Last Few Months: Told Through Numerous Weird And Wonderful Images

So I haven't posted in ages. It really annoys me that I haven't. I feel like i've let myself down in someway, and worse still, I feel like I've let down three three people who actually read my blog. Sorry guys. Anyway, here's a bunch of pictures I've taken on my phone over the last few months, with stories attached. Wooo!

This first one was taken walking from uni to my bus stop and when I read it I had plenty of lols, so I thought it only fitting that I share.

Coles Chermside. I lolled so hard. I mean  who is going to buy tampons and burritos in the same shop?!

Cash Converters in the valley. The fact that there were 20 Xbox's is humorous enough, however, the fact that there were only two Playstations speaks volumes. I'm not going to go on a fanboy rant. Because everyone knows Playstations are better.

Op Shop In Alderley. Superman and Batman Shampoo: for when you want the job done properly.

Alderley train station. A bin to deposit your transport surveys. Shows just how much Translink cares about your opinions =P

Bianca and I were in Southbank and she had just gotten a call. So I stood around waiting a what do I find in a nearby bush? A spoon. Fuck yeah! Someone must have been eating some late-night yoghurt and forgot their spoon or something.

Powerhouse Toilets.

Powerhouse Toilets. Now this one you can't really read, because it's been engraved with a knife. It says "Kill America" and then someone has replied underneath it saying "why bother, they'll kill themselves".

K Mart Chermside. This one is just super creepy and has a funny story attached. One day recently I felt my phone vibrate and I was like oh, *takes it out of my pocket and looks at the screen* and there was this fucking baby's face and I was like WHAT THE FUCK, because I couldn't for the life of me remember taking it. So I'm looking around because I thought someone might of blue-toothed it to me and then I remembered. lol. It's like when you think you've lost your wallet...but infinitely creepier.

Uni. I couldn't stop laughing at this. A Mac with a Microsoft mouse. Haha, someone has a sense of humour.

Uni. There's this big plasma which you can text (or twitter) in suggestions for the new Creative Industries precinct. And for the third time I have said a cinema. Lol. There are some really funny ones sometimes, like "beer fountains" and :free cake stalls". So that's all for now. I'll check back in soon guys. Hope you had a good lol.

The Fixer

A couple of days ago I received a letter from Origin (a power company, for those of you playing at home [no, I have no idea what that even means]). We had just paid our electricity bill so I was confused, and maybe a little scared that they were going to make us pay money for some unknown service. I opened the letter and to my great surprise it was the very opposite: they wanted to give me money. Twenty-nine dollars and fifty-seven cents to be exact.

Now, my first thought was, 'Yay, Money.' And the second one was, 'Hey what the hell is up with all of these asterisks?' The cheque had the commonly recognised UNITS, TENS, HUNDREDS etc, but kept going up into the hundreds of millions. Personally I thought it was hilarious, if not a little irresponsible of them. Why, whatever would happen if the cheque fell into the wrong hands? Hands trained in the art of Photoshop? Well, I'll show you exactly what happened.

I've been debating whether or not to go down to the Post Office and cash it. Although I highly doubt they keep that much money on the premises. Oh! And there's the fact that's probably highly illegal and I'd probably get arrested or some bullshit. That's the kind of shit that happens to me: I get done for something like jaywalking, and some guy walking right beside me - with an stolen iPod full of illegally downloaded songs, who has just robbed a bank and thrown a gum wrapper on the ground - walks free.
So there's the downside of trying to cash the cheque, now here's the upside. If it doesn't work, I can just claim it's April Fools day. I wonder whether that would hold up in court? Sounds rock-solid to me.
If that didn't go down well I'd ask what the point of having all those columns if nobody uses them? Personally, I think that's a very good logical argument.
And if both of those things failed me I could always claim that Satan made me do it, and promise to repent at my local church.

Anyway, that's all for now, I have to go...
I have a cheque to cash.

Dreams

Wow. It’s been a LONG time since I’ve made an entry. I feel really slack. I’ve had a bunch of different ideas, but I guess I’ve just been too lazy to get off my butt and write them. Until now.

I just had one of, if not the weirdest dream I’ve ever had. There are always many fragments to one’s dreams, but this is the one that remained the most vivid.

For some reason Mariah and I were in America. Not only that, but we
were staying on the top floor of the Empire State building (for some reason it had a residential sector). We just chilled most of the time until something super weird happened.
Mariah got a 1 Kilo box of Cornflakes (I don’t know where from, probably Walmart) and thought it would be funny to throw it off. So she did and for some reason we could hear it hit the ground. People swore up at the building and she laughed. She ended up doing it again (it's not clear to me whether it was the same packet or a new one, and if it was a new one, why the hell did she need 2 Kilos of Cornflakes???). This time after she threw it off, the police arrived and later that day we saw on the TV that someone had died from it. I was horrified and she was like, "Yeah I kinda regret doing that now."
"Kind of regret it?!" I said shocked.
"Yeah,” She replied.

And that’s all I remember. Now here’s a little digression, but I guarantee it totally has to do with the topic at hand unlike usual. Yesterday we went to the Op-Shop and I picked up a bunch of books including an Encyclopedia of Dreams (hey, it’s was $6 and looked comprehensive, don’t judge me!).

So, armed with my Encyclopedia O’ Dreams I was determined to find out what it all meant. I lucked out on the Cornflakes front, all I could find was Corn: To dream of husking pied ears of corn means you will enjoy varied success and pleasure. What the fuck right? But wait, there’s more: To see others gathering corn, foretells that you will rejoice in the prosperity of friends or relatives. Unfortunately it didn’t say nothing about gathering the corn, boxing it in a 1 Kilo box and throwing it off the top of the Empire State building…although it obviously should.
Adamant not to give up I kept looking. There was no entry for Cereal and the one for Breakfast was highly ambiguous (I began to compare reading dreams to reading horoscopes), so I moved on to the Empire State building. Buildings: To see large and magnificent buildings, with green lawns stretching out before them, is significant of a long life of plenty, and travels and explorations into distant countries. Right…
The definitions for Dead and Death were far too long winded and ambiguous to bother with so I stuck with murder. Murder: To see murder in your dreams foretells much sorrow arising from the misdeed of others. In a similar vein, an excerpt from the long definition of Friend: To see your friend who dresses in somber colours in flaming red, foretells that unpleasant things will transpire, causing you anxiety if not loss, and that friends will be implicated.

Okay, so my complete interpretation of Mariah (Friend) throwing a box of Cornflakes (Corn) off the Empire State building (Buildings) and killing someone (Murder) is this: My friends are going to screw me over, but not to worry because I will be rich, prosperous and travel the world. Sounds like a Hollywood movie. Thank you $6 Dream Encyclopedia for giving my life meaning again.

Got Milk?

I do. A lot of it…
But not in a weird way…
But I do always have a bit of milk in me…
Damn it, what I’m trying to say is that I drink a lot of milk. Like in summer sometimes I can go through a 3L in a day or less.

So I had this random idea of tallying all the milk that I drink for an entire year and count it up at the end. So, starting tomorrow I’ll be keeping all my receipts and noting exactly how much milk I drink for an entire year. (You can tell I have a lot of time on my hands.) Now this is where you all come in, I want everyone (yes all three of you) to place bets on how much I can drink in 2010; the most common suggestion (or the average) will be the target.
I may also collect all the bottles (and keep them in the garage) for an elaborate video at the end of the year involving the words “Milk was a bad choice.”
We (I) need your help. Contribute to the Milk Allowance now.

Other things I plan to do with milk over the summer:

1. Put a petition to Centrelink about creating a Milk Allowance. For the lactose impaired.

2 I’ve had this idea for a TV show for a while now (and if I haven’t already explained it to you in great detail, then I probably don’t like you very much), the premise is this: it’s a milkshake review show where we travel around the country (eventually the world) and review milkshakes. Initially it would be just me and Jodie, but eventually I’d like to get about four reviewers for all the different flavours. We’d give scores out of 40 (ten each for flavour, size, price, and accessibility) and make a list of where the best milkshakes are to be found. I’m still torn about the intro sequence; initially I wanted an upbeat intro set to ‘Shake It’ by Metro Station (because it’s a hilarious pun, and a cool song (until you watch the poncy video clip)), but now I’m thinking more of a ‘Reservoir Dogs’ intro where all my reviewers are in suits walking in slow motion towards the camera to an old 70s song. And text would come up introducing everyone – Ben: Strawberry Specialist, Jodie: Chocolate Specialist etc.

3. Write a spin-off of The Milkshake Review Show, and seeing as vampires seem to be big right now, I’ll capatalise on that and write a screenplay where the world is riddled with vampires, except the catch is that everyone’s blood is actually milk. So instead of blood-sucking vampires they would be milk-sucking vampires. And instead of different blood-types people have different flavoured milk. And it would be filled with bad one-liners, like when the American military come to take out the vampires they say “got milk?” and then riddle them with bullets. And the best thing about it all would be bamboozling the MPAA (the dudes that classify movies), because there’s no blood! Only milk =]
And I’d call it…wait for it…'Milk’…
What? There’s already a movie by that name? Shit! Well then "I’d call it ‘What’s Your Flavour?’ and the theme song would be ‘What’s Your Flava?’ by Craig David. (Can you tell I just made all of that up now?)

By The Numbers

Fuck me, what a day!

Yesterday, there was an epic all-day concert at the Kelvin Grove amphitheatre, and I volunteered as a photographer. Little did I know just how epic it would truly be. Let’s just say, my ass is bruised, my feet are bruised, by ears are impaired, and my eyes hurt from lack of sleep. But aside from the sensory deprivation and bruises left right and centre, it was an outstanding day. Although next time i’ll bring a water bottle, lunch, and remember to slip, slop, and slap.

If you know me, you’ll know I love numbers and statistics, so here’s the day by the numbers.

1 – Day

2 - Blocks of delicious Lindt chocolate (god bless you Woolworths…I hope no-one from Maleny heard that…)

3 - Toilet breaks (the last of which was in the complete dark, but luckily I had already been there twice and knew my way around)

4 - Sound Technicians

5 - Film & Photographic crew (none of whom as omnipresent as I)

6 - The amount of times Rob hijacked the keyboard

7 - Hours without food (thanks Jodi =])

8 – Pm. Marked 12 hours since my arrival (coincidentally, the same number of times I wished I could leave and go to sleep)

9 - Different styles of music

10 - Rows of the amphitheatre

13 - Cups of water (see #3)

14 – HOURS! (58% of an entire day)

16 - Members of Noosphere

21 – Acts (were planned; 19 actually went on)

45 - Minutes break (5.25 – 6.10)

123 – Songs*

827 - Photographs taken (of which, 10 are probably good =P)

* This is purely guesswork. But I know it was a lot, and I know it was over 100.

Break It Down Now

Ben’s Day, featuring: a 12 pack of toilet paper for $2.99; a Clint Eastwood movie; a train; a $5 shake; a $9 salad; a sexy bitch; and a pantomime.

So I started the day just like any other; woke up set on doing uni work and then found a whole bunch of new and ingenious ways of wasting time and procrastinating.

At some point in the afternoon I thought it would be a good idea to do a shop, on account of there being no toilet paper, and no god damn food. I went up to Lutwyche, and popped into the op-shop briefly, thinking they might have something I could use for my Halloween costume.They didn’t, but before I left I saw a 12 pack of toilet paper for $2.99. A mighty good deal.
I did the shopping at Coles, and you know how it is; you go in there needing toilet paper, a loaf of bread, and a can opener and you come out with bloody cordial, biscuits, cheese, mayonnaise, and half the bloody time you forget the things you went in for!
So instead of the small $20 shop I had planned, I came out with five bags (plastic bags, yes I felt terrible for the fuckin’ environment, but you know what, I also felt terrible for my fuckin’ hands; plastic bags are bitches to carry) and it cost me $67. So here I am, making my way to the bus stop, trying to carry these five heavy, awkward bags and realising I still need the damn toilet paper. So I hobble across the road, buy it (of course they don’t have bags) and try and fit it in my already over-crowded bags. Anyway, the moral of the story is: CARRY MY FUCKING SHOPPING WENCH!

I got home, watched Unforgiven (Clint Eastwood) and had some delightful and hard earned snacks, including chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate.

I caught the 7.19 train into the city and made my way to JoJo’s in the Queen Street Mall (it was a friend’s birthday dinner).
Turns out I’m there before the actually birthday crew (lame, or totally awesome?), so I grab a seat and whip out the book i’m reading, Tarantino and Philosophy: How to philosophize with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. Fucking good read, I recommend it.

The peeps rock up, we get our table, and we gets to perusing the over-priced menus. The meal that caught my eye was the Sirloin steak, with chips - $18, which isn’t too bad considering, but I looked one row down to find Sirloin steak, with chips and a salad - $27. That’s a fuckin’ $9 salad. Outrageous!
After I got over that I also found a $15 sandwich, but hey it’s gourmet right? And $20 Tortellini! You can buy that shit (i’d like to say it’s not actually shit, it’s my favourite meal) for $6 at the supermarket, add $4 for sauce, and that would feed 4. God damn.

The highlight of the evening, however, came when I started getting thirsty. I felt like a milkshake, so I went to the bar and saw the milkshake flavours, so I thought cool, no dramas. But what actually unfolded was a strange re-enactment of the milkshake scene in Pulp Fiction (which coincidently i’ve been reading a lot about).
I ask the guy, “Hey, do you guys do milkshakes?”
To which he replies, in a very whingey, non professional tone, “Ahhhh nnnnn, yeah we do. I just don’t like making them.”
Astounded I said, “Well how much would it be?”
He ummed and ahhed for a moment and then said, “Well…$5.”
To which I replied, “$5 shake? That’s milk and ice cream?”
”Yeah.”
So he trudged off and started making it (Mark said he saw him pretending to spit in it), during which he asked, “you don’t want bourbon in it or nothin’?” (Those weren’t his exact words, but I can’t remember which alcohol he was referring to; regardless, the point remains the same.) I said no, to which he replied, “Weak.”
To which I said, “my [fucking] choice [you fucking douche bag].
He came back a couple of minutes later with the big metal mixing cup. I thought, sweet as, this guy has been a douche, but I paid $5 and I’m getting what I paid for.
However what actually happened was he got out two glasses, a big milkshake glass and a girly wine glass, he pours it into the wine glass and says, “one for you,” then pours the rest into the milkshake glass, “one for me.”
The audacity!

All said and done though, it was a good meal, and the shake was alright too. Certainly no top 10 material; certainly not going to make my milkshake review show. Despite everything I thought the restaurant was quite cool, but if I go there again and that guy acts up again I’m gettin’ his ass fired [out of a cannon, into the sun].

Next we hit the valley. Now it was never my intention to go out that night, especially because I was wearing a jumper and carrying a bag and my head was messed up. But I got into The Beat so we went and danced for a bit. Mark had assigned me a mission and claimed that if I did it, I would be “a legend”. My mission, if I chose to accept it (which I did), was to go to the valley, wait for our friend Steve to arrive, call him a pussy, and then leave. I did all of those things, except instead of really leaving, I just pretended to leave. But it was still funny as hell (had to be there).
I hadn’t danced yet, but when my song came on (Sexy Bitch) I got up on that dance floor with Mark, and we ripped that mofo right up. Good fun. What a great song to dance to.
About 15 minutes later I was sitting down at the table and this guy came up and eyed me, then proceeded to grab at the air in time to the music, after each time he shook his head, and sometimes he would flip the sunglasses over his eyes and start again. Steve came to sit down and was like, WTF, and I was like ZOMFGROFLMAO.

And that’s my story. Now, back to uni work =]

It.Was.You

I’ve been struggling with things to write about for weeks, but this morning the floodgates opened.

So this morning I came in and sat down in my Corporate Writing and Editing lecture. About 5 minutes afterwards this girl comes in and sits down a row in front of me. A couple of minutes after that she gets up and turns around.

“It was you.”

“Huh?” I said.

“It was you last week that was coughing all lecture.”

“Um, sorry about that…I was sick.” A hint of sarcasm.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a packet of butter menthols and passes them to me.

Perplexed, I laughed and said, “No i’m okay now thanks.”

Rather abrasively she says, “No, i bought these especially for you.”

I take them from her, awkwardly. Then she proceeds to pull out a packet of tissues. And a bottle of water.
She leaves them on my table and goes to sit back down.

“I’m sorry for my random act of, getting sick.” Medium sarcasm.

“Well, i just did it so that we could all have a pleasant lecture.”

“Well, i’m sorry if i offended you. You know it was actually intentional. I went to the Ekka and made out with a lot of sick people. But i didn’t expect to get sick.” Sarcasm in overdrive.

Even our lecturer, Glen Thomas, entered the conversation.“You didn’t make out with any sick pigs did you?”

Beside me, Ethan was beside himself. lol, epic win.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obviously i told everyone I knew about this bizarre occurrence. Man we had a field day; laughed till the cows came home. And then some.

A few questions, however, still plague me;

1. Did she rehearse what she was going to say?

The general consensus amongst my friends was yes. And i have to agree; one does not rationally spend five dollars on a stranger and then not plan what they are going to say. But then again, one does not rationally confront someone about the involuntary act of coughing whilst sick. Which leads me to the next question.

2. Is it the same as walking up to an Asian person and saying, how dare you be Asian?

My friends insist that i shouldn’t compare being sick to being Asian -and they make a good point – however, my intentions are good. It’s the same principle; being berated for something which you have no control over. Some would argue that i could control whether I went to the lecture or not, but I would call them useless fuckwits, and then proceed to berate them about being so stupid.

3. How much does she fucking love Corporate Writing and Editing?

Okay so let me just say that this 2 hour lecture entails Grammar, Punctuation, How to write reports and so on. I would perhaps understand if it was a god damn film subject and Quentin Tarantino was giving a guest lecture, but it’s fucking Corporate Writing motherfucker, get the fuck over it!

4. Does she now feel like the biggest douche ever/is she mentally retarded?

Now i’m well aware that sometimes confrontation needs to occur, and when I am the instigator I often feel guilty, whether I believe what i’ve said is true or not. But in this case, I really do wonder how you could not feel like the biggest douche bag ever, unless you were actually retarded in some way.

Jackie Fail

Jackie Fail: A slang term for when Jackie McKimmie does or says something stupid.

Okay, so news flash for those of you who are thinking; who the fuck is Jackie McKimmie? Well she’s no-one really, just one of my lecturers. For film and tv scriptwriting.
Now i’ve had something against her ever since the first lecture, which was comprised entirely of her telling us how amazing and brilliant she is; how many films she’s worked on, and showing us clips of films she was apart of.
So she’s a pretentious wench? Deal with it Ben. Aha! That’s where you’re wrong, she’s so much more than just a pretentious wench. She’s also stupid and annoying. A stupid annoying pretentious wench she be.

I got my marks back from our first assignment the other day.
Now let me first say that I explained to her that i am doing a non-linear, hard to explain story, and told her that my synopsis may not be as clear cut as ‘This is a story about [protagonist] who runs into [conflict] which is caused by [antagonist] which is resolved by…’
She’s extremely by the book in that way. Well, in every way i can think of. She’ll be like, ‘okay, so does anyone have an opinion on this?’ and I’ll put my hand up and give my honest opinion, and in no uncertain terms she will say, ‘No, you’re wrong.’ Then she will spend the next 3-5 minutes denouncing what i’ve said. Not blatantly. Usually pretty subtly, i’ll give her that.
Okay, now that i have explained that, i’ll tell you about the assignment. She gave me a 4 because ‘the synopsis was unclear’. In other words, she was unable to comprehend it, or she disagreed with it in someway, therefore a 4. But here’s the kicker; for someone claiming that something is unclear and vague she doesn’t do a very good job giving feedback.

Okay, so for those of you who have no idea what the fuck that says, here’s a translation, provided by Google’s foreign language translator.

“And?

Not oure what you wont ill audience [infinity symbol] thik/feel – why Bette a [indecipherable] he way ole olds.”

Seriously. I’ve heard Chewbacca speak better English. Thanks anyway Google, you tried your best.
But that’s just one of the many Jackie Fails. So it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you the list of top 10 Jackie Fails.

#10: On a lecture slide was a url which was supposed to link to a screen website: Screenbub. Which she later changed to Screenhub when students couldn’t access it.

#9: Every time she has a worksheet out the front and a student walks by she will say (quite aggressively), "’Hey, grab that!’
Try it, just to get the inevitable response, it’s hilarious!

#8: On a lecture slide there were two references to Melbourne. The first was spelt correctly, the second however was spelt Melboorne. Fair enough though, she did write it in pen; no spell checker.

#7: About the second or third lecture Jackie was telling us how much she loves Seinfeld, The Sopranos, Deadwood, and Analyse This (they are actually the only things she ever talks about). Anyway, she then proceeded to act out an entire scene from Analyse this and part of one from Seinfeld. Taking up a good 20 minutes of class time.

#6: When teaching us how to refer to unspecified people (like Girl 1, Boy 2 etc) she got the asterisks horribly confused with the hash.The result being, ‘you should always write Cop*1 or Girl*2.’

#5: In one lecture she tried to use the word evoke, but failed hard and said emoke instead. Which consequently failed to emoke any feeling that i might have in regards to her being semi literate.

#4: In one particular lecture she was talking to us about making sure audiences don’t loose interest. Ironically, as she was saying this, a bunch of people left the room.

#3: Jackie on Characters and motivations, "And then they get something, which is either nothing or something."

#2: A direct quote from Jackie, "The main character is the one who features mainly in the plot." 

#1: In our second or third lecture there came a point for her to use the word poignant. Now most people know that it’s a silent G right? She didn’t. A rather foolish mistake for a teacher who was just claiming that spelling errors and the like will not be tolerated.

[Thanks to Gavin for some quotations]

Finally, just to demonstrate how right i am; here is a selection of inspired haiku’s by my classmates and myself.

Ten in the morning,
McKimmie, McKimmie why
you torture us so?

Jackie, I loathe thee,
Jackie, your voice is so shrill,
Poin-yant, not poig-nant.

Your glasses are red,
You have a stupid fat head,
Now analyse that.

This lecture so dull,
Get the fuck off your high horse,
Insalubrious.

As of now they’re just mine. But hopefully I’ll be able to persuade some of my brethren to put some of theirs up. And yes, they are terrible, but i think that it reflects the truly terrible, horrific conditions under which they were written.

Songs You Love To Hate (Or Hate To Love)

Has anyone else noticed how pretty much every song in the top 10 is totally shit, but has a catchy beat?
Songs that are shallow or have no substance whatsoever, that promote douche bag things like alcoholism, promiscuity, sexism, and being blasé about ridiculous amounts of money. Case in point;

- Sexy Bitch; or anything else by Akon for that matter. Aren’t Sexy Bitch, Smack That and Shake That essentially the same fucking song? Akon’s songs, like most rappers are always about the same shit; money, hoes, and often excessive amounts of alcohol. Way to set a good example for the kids Douche Bag!

- Good Girls Go Bad. No not even Leighton Meester could save this one. And what’s with the setting. ‘Yeah, we’re a bunch of teenage sluts who just want to go out and get drunk and make out with random guys, where’s the best place to do that?’
… An Abattoir?! Sorry, sorry; a nightclub beneath an abattoir. Because that make so much more sense.

- Poker Face; or anything else by Lady Gaga. P-p-p-poker face, f-f-f-fuck her face. None of her songs have any substance, they’re all about the same things; getting drunk and being promiscuous. Oh and wearing ridiculous and outlandish outfits.
And we all know that Lady Gaga is actually a man, i think she would have a lot more respect, if she just came out with it. A transvestite pop star. Then she’d actually be doing something different, rather than senselessly slutty herself around like so many before her.

- Right Round; I actually do love this song, but seriously Flo Rida? Here’s how a pitch would have gone;

Flo Rida: Yo Homie, i’m thinkin ‘bout doin’ a song about getting head. Cuz that’s all me does 24/7, gang-STAH!

Agent: Um. Well you did have a big hit with the rob a bank song. Tell me more.
Flo Rida: Well, the beat will be a cheap rip off of some popular 80’s song; i’m thinkin’ Sweet dreams or You spin me right round
Agent: Sold!

- I Kissed A Girl; shamelessly using the “lesbian” image to sell  songs. That’s low. At least Tatu looked like lesbians.
That’s just to list a few. Also, who else is sick of hearing Tainted Love being recycled over and over again!? I mean it’s a good song but seriously. There’s been stacks of covers, but recently, Rihanna sampled it on S.O.S (which i thought was used effectively), but then there were a swath of other songs which didn’t use it so well. The latest is Sexy Bitch.

Most of these songs are just shameless rip-offs of Tainted Love with different lyrics, they would claim otherwise of course, but we all know they’re full of shit. It’s kind of like how Vanilla Ice said that he didn’t rip off Under Pressure when he totally fucking did. And how Destiny’s Child recycled the opening riff from Stevie Nick’s Edge of Seventeen and said, ‘Ohhhh look at us, we’re Bootylicious.’
Anyway. That’s just hip hop and pop music for you. It’s been happening for a long time, and it’s never going to stop; it’s just like fashion, we are doomed to keep repeating the same fashion trends over and over again, until someone finally has the guts to go against what will assure them a house in the Hamptons and say, ‘Let’s do something new.’
But then again, people are scared of what’s new; they just want to see, hear, and wear the same thing they have done a thousand times before. But a tiny little bit different.

No, You’re A Twat!

I wish people would stop following my god damn twitter page instead of my blog. The only update i’ve put up there in the past 5 months is: Ben Carey – Is scratching his arse. If you’re reading this and thinking, ‘well why don’t you just delete it?’ Good fucking idea, i think i’ll do it now… Or, I could just constantly post links to my blog. Shameless.

Seriously though what’s so great about twitter? The only reason I use facebook is because it’s a convenient way to keep in contact with people these days… And yes,  i am implying that people are too fucking lazy these days to pick up a god damn phone or to reply to a freaking email, who ever thought email of all things would become one of those tedious forms of communication such as snail mail and telegrams.
Everyone’s into it aren’t they? All the celebrities and that. All it is, is a glorified myspace/facebook status update box. WHY DOES IT HAVE 100 BILLION TRILLION USERS???
And then there’s all the stupid lingo that goes with it: ‘What are you doing Johnny?’ ‘Oh I’m just tweeting’, no Johnny, you’re a fucking Twat is what you are! It should definitely be renamed twatter. I wonder if anyone would do anything if I just constantly posted messages saying: ‘Twitter is gay’, ‘twitter is stupider than Sarah Palin’, ‘twitter sucks monkey balls’.

Another thing that worries me is how desperate the movie industry is at the moment, what with the whole 3 good movies being released in the past decade thing (slight exaggeration, there have been a lot of good movies lately, but they are still desperate! Case in point – the 100 trillion comic book adaptations being made). Next thing you know you’ll be watching ‘Twitter: The Movie’ and wondering why you just spent $10 to watch some accountant guy, hopeless at talking to the opposite sex, find the love of his life through the ‘magic’ of twitter. Here is the sample trailer:

Twat #1

6.37 - I Just got home from work
6.38 – I had such a bad day
6.40 – Everyone yelled at me for no good reason
6.42 – I Think I fail at life
6.43 – Do I?

Stupid Movie Guy Voice: He was down on love, he hated his job, he failed at life. Just when he had given up all hope, he found twitter.

Twat #2

7.01 – Ohh I hate my life
7.02 – I just broke a nail for your information
7.04 – Screw you, cruel world, nobody understands me!!!!

She was a pretentious wench, who lost her job, she hit rock bottom and twitter was there for her. She was hopeless at love; she had been with all the wrong guys, until now.

[Climax of the movie]

Twat #2

1.02 – What are you saying?

Twat #1

1.04 – I’m saying… I think I luv u

Twat #2

1.06 – Oh my gawdddd! I luv u 2!!!!

Twat #1&2

1.07 – Thank god for TWITTER.

[Fade to black]

Think it will be a hit? Probably not, but if you think i’m just being stupid, well… I am, but there is some sort of truth to it, albeit, the alleged facebook movie. Ohhhh dear. I wish there were more Tarantino’s in the world.

Why the word epic is the most dynamic word in the English language (besides fuck).

Ladies and gentlemen; I am here today to prove to you beyond doubt why epic is the most dynamic word in the English language.

Consider:

As a statement

Epic. (Your everyday, standard epic)

Epic! (For when you just need a little extra oomph)

Epiiiiiiic!!! (Used mostly when observing sports)

In the 21st century, our silly language is full of plain old statements like ‘That was good’, ‘Sweet’ or ‘Awesome.’ Yes, even ‘Mad’ and ‘Sick’ got a little old, whodathunkit? (or as I should say; Who would have thought of that?). So why use silly old 1 Dimensional words, when you could using multi-layered dynamic words like epic!

As a question

Epic?

Unlike fuck, epic can be used as a question. One would surely not have the following conversation: ‘Oh my god! I’m getting married!’ ‘Fuck?’
But one would be be perfectly correct to reply: ‘Epic?’

Now we move on to the juicier stuff; Epic as a verb, adverb, and an adjective.

As a verb

“By jove, that man is epicing along!”

By far the most creative use of the word epic, is in verb form. While normal, inferior people may choose to use a word such as ‘Speeding along’ or ‘Zooming along’, us learned folk know better. A – The act of ‘verbalizing’ the word epic depicts that the action in question is truly of an epic nature and B – It sounds… Well, epic.

The test was Monday; he epiced it.

Our team played in the final last night, however we got epiced.

As an adverb

Sometimes in the English language, one cannot find an appropriate word to describe the way something is being said or done; in those cases you must consult epic and never fuck. Consider the following: ‘“I was playing a game last night and there was a power cut; i lost all of my progress,” he said fuckily. It is extremely lacklustre and obscure; the reader doesn’t really know that the writer is on about. However, the next example is considered much better.

“We won the championship!” he said epically.

As a adjective

“That Glen Thomas is truly an epic man.”

Some words simply cannot sum up what a person is trying to say in a concise and cohesive way. Fuck can achieve the same effect, but most of the time another word has to accompany it for it to make sense. Example: ‘That match was fucking awesome’, one could not say ‘The match was fucking’, unless one was watching a porno (and in that case fucking becomes a verb). The meaning becomes very unclear. More examples follow.

He did an epic poo

That was truly an epic movie

Fuck and Epic finally square off in the ring

Some would say ‘Yeah but fuck can be used to described sex, as well as to intimidate, it’s so dynamic.’ Consider the following comparison:

They went home and had sex all night long (Blatantly obvious)
They went home and fucked all night long (A little crude)
They went home and epiced all night long (Not too heavy, not too light; it’s just right… Anyone?)

The latter latter is obvious the most creative, and one of the principal rules of writing is ‘Show don’t tell’, make people use their imaginations.

As a method of intimidation:

I am going to smash you in the face, arsehole! (Blatant)
I’m going to fuck your face up, arsehole! (Better; more emotion)
I’m going to epic your face up, arsehole! (Perfect mix)

And that’s all we have time for today. So until next time kiddies, if your mother or father asks you to do the dishes, your first instinct may be to say ‘Go and get fucked’, but that would be unwise as they might take it the right way, whereas if you say ‘Go and get Epiced’, they can’t, because you didn’t officially use a profanity.

… Oh, and beware of the Grammar Nazi!