Man Optus is slow tonight. Word of advice, don’t go for Optus Wireless Broadband if you’re after a quick, reliable service while on the road. It may be cheaper than Telstra, but like 3, you get to speak to foreigners on the help line. Lotsa “what”, “huh” and that noise Tim Allen made on Home Improvement which everyone did from 1992 to 1994. Just can’t put it into words. You know the one. Half the time is spent clicking ‘Connect’ just to get online, or pressing F5 as every page times out. Bring on 56k dialup.

Anyway, while it’s let me on tonight, I found some ripper advert on Facebook, and just had to post it for you.

Classic! Okay, alright, there was a slight edit with it; I put a picture of both bride and groom on there, instead of just having the bride.

So the people who run OZ Liberty and GT Rydaz are doing a whole new membership thing, which’ll offer discounts and stuff on, well, stuff. And they were looking around for a cheap piece of graphic design to get going, someone who can make a web 2.0 [ ? ] logo for ‘em. Dunno how web 2.0 logos differ from regular web logos, so I got crackin’ and come up with this. Nice n’ simple.

That’s gotta be web 2.0, yep? Not bad for 5 minutes work. Maybe add some shading or something, but how do you do that? I’m not the Photoshop God I make myself out to be. Sorry.

Tuesday night, yup? Sweet. Kinda. Optus is down, so this is going into Notepad, for future retrieval, copy n’ pasting. So there was a commercial on the tele selling Heinz’s new Green Apple Splat. Man, they need to get in touch with me. After eating them DD’s for the past two days, I could’ve supplied Heinz with plenty-o-splat, enough to fill two pallets at least.

And while at the chemist before, browsing the mens health aisle [ There is 15 dedicated to women ], I decided that the sauna face mask just doesn’t cut it, so I got this Tired Skin Reviving Masque. Talk about funkee and stylish. They call it masque. And among the ingredients is Aqua, followed by water, in brackets of course. Too hard to just write water, huh? Or men are just too retarded to understand what Aqua means, because they wagged Latin class, so wrote both on there? 

Open the packet, mmm, smells nice. Bubble gum nice, but as edible as Red Rooster gravy. Squeeze it out of the pack, it looks like runny poop, with a few lumps, in a greenish-grey colour, kinda like the first poop after drinking a blue heaven flavoured Big M [ They still sell those? ]. Definitely not the poo brown you see on the pack.

Once applied I looked like a poor imitation of someone from TISM. Then it went cold. And tingly. Then dry. But I didn’t make a face like I’d just put ice on a haemorrhoid, which the guy on the pack is obviously doing. Aahhh, relief. It tickles. Can’t say it worked a treat or not, although now that I mention it, this face does feel a bit smoother. I still feel old, but.

Maybe more girls will think I’m only 25, then go “Bah! He doesn’t drive a VN Commodore with a VX Clubsport bodykit or a Skyline. Next!”, then go find some douchebag at an Irish-themed pub with tips and pink t-shirt with a collar popped and a witty slogan on the front. Pfft. I hate going to those kinda bars anyway. Ugh. Irish pubs. After being graced with a generic Irish name, like Seamus, or Paddy, with an O’surname, and Guinness the only Irish beer on tap, and staff who are English, I so hate this about Irish pubs. All of them -

• The getting asked for ID when I’m older than security.
• The “Sorry, no bags mate” when everyone gets in with one.
• The way security, no matter if they’re fat Samoans/Maoris/Australians, call you “mate”.
• The $5 entry fee.
• The “no team colours” allowed. When every tv, bar the DJs, has sport on.
• The way the pub turns into a nightclub at 9pm.
• The DJ who has only 8 songs on iTunes to crank over the PA system, and the volume he plays it.
• The standing on sticky floors for the whole night, which at first seems like a novelty, where you take take your shoe off the floor, repeatedly, to see how sticky it really is. Then it kinda gets boring, then a minute later, enough to make you head for the exit. 
• The $7 for a stubby of awful beer because they have nothing decent on tap.
• The yelling at the barmaid to order said expensive beer because the DJ has his new Britney Spears mp3 playing too loud. 
• The $3 change the barmaid puts a) in a puddle of beer b) on a small plate. With a receipt.
• The no AFL on the TV. 
• The 7 TVs showing the same NRL game.
• The queue to the dunny which is half way on the dance floor and people continuously bump into you, look you up and down, deciding whether to say sorry or turn and keep dancing.
• The stage fright at the urinal, followed by anxious waiting for the next cubicle to be vacated.
• The one free cubicle, only free because someone has spewed on the seat or left a brown streak down the bowl, so you try to pee it off as much as you can, while having your t-shirt covering your mouth and nose which doesn’t mask the smell that much.
• The puddle of urine at your feet, before you add yours to it.
• The way you yawn when you’re bored at 830pm, and the security says you have to leave because you’re too drunk, when all you’ve had is one overpriced light beer and 3 glasses of iced water.
• The fact that it’s a pub and pubs should be all about drinking beer, watching yobbos fight over a pool table, reading/writing humourous jokes/insults on toilet cubicle walls [ eg Toilet Tennis ] and eating a kebab or two upon departure, which will end up on someones garden on the walk home. 

Pubs shouldn’t charge a few bucks entry so a DJ can buy a $20 iTunes gift card to update his playlist for next week, nor should we be charged to queue 10 minutes for the john, or so we can have the privilege to pay $35 for five beers [ which is what you'd have spent on a whole slab of tasty beer if you stayed at home. And listened to real music. And got to watch the AFL. With a clean toilet nearby ].

Y’know what? If I were 60, wore stubbies and a short sleeve flannel shirt tucked in, I’d write to my local Letter to the Editor about how charging entry to a pub is un-Australian.

Went to buy Ralph before, as you do, on a boring Monday night once the old bag wins Big Brother, and we see no more of Mike Goldman on the box, ‘cept for the sports store commercial. Half way home, see a flash in the distance [ no, not of the speed camera variety - this ain't Victoria ] and every light in town is out.

Get home, power also out. So no lights, nothin’, for a good 3km, but as always, they’ve lights on 200m away from home. So I gets home, try to read said Ralph magazine with a torch. No good, I tells ya, but somehow made it from start to finish before going on a late night walk, and surprise surprise, power goes back on once I make it to the door. Ripper. I can finally see Miranda Kerr in the light. 

There’s a bikini shop up the road, with Miranda Kerr posters in the window. After the first look, I was like “Nahhh. She’d have to be only 14″, and feeling like a Chester-Chester, let it go, while shielding my eyes on subsequent passings. Then I spot the same pic on a Woman’s Day or New Idea cover, yeah, some garbage women buy to learn about Britney Spears’ mental breakdown, as told by “a friend” or “an insider”, always nameless. Anyway, my point is… Miranda Kerr is no child. I can safely walk down Mooloolaba and stop and look in the window. Or if exercise is too hard, just turn around and pick up the new Ralph. But if you are too tight to buy it, or Abdul kicked you out of 7-11 for reading it, here’s something to keep you going.

Oh, when the lights were out, I dumped the old doona that had been in my boot since June 2007. It was brown, but not smelly, but grotty in theory. Hopefully once it hits the tip some seagulls can find a meal in there, even if it is a 13 month old sandwich.

Did some window shopping on eBay before. Pay goes in shortly, so it was a good idea to browse the fashion of 2008 before heading out to see it in real life. Big mistake. I’m gonna stay home now. Male fashion has gone to the gays. Actually, gays seem to have good taste in clothing, maybe it’s the inspiration from Justin Timberlake, and would never be associated with this filth -

Example One. Fluoro on fluoro. With an 86, no doubt referring to the year Airport West shopping centre got their first Brashs store.

Aviator sunglasses. Says you like wang. Or drive a Camaro. Or both.

Like denim shorts, pink shorts are NOT menswear, and should never be worn unless you like to be beaten with a tree branch.

 I kid you not, these are the first things to show up when searching for top fashionable brands like Industrie, Mossimo, Get These Sunglasses For $2 At Caltex. 

Also, what are diabetic socks? Someone is selling twelve pairs, and I’ve no idea the health benefits of these over regular socks.

Why did nobody bother to tell me my illustrations from the other posts are exactly like that on Rove, which I only discovered two minutes ago, because I’m killing time before the F1 starts. I’m ruined.

Another “I wish I had a dollar…” moment, this time courtesy of the squeaky Travis guy. Man he likes to say Wooo! With the treble set to 11. My eardrums have burst and my head is throbbing. Bring us a Nurofen, please. And can they hurry up and just end Big Brother altogether. Tonight. Look at Rory. That derro-lookin’ guy is ultra keen to get outta the house, head to Nimbin, join the locals at the hemp museum and help keep the local economy in the black.

I must be getting old. No longer can I attend concerts, or watch Big Brother, without ear plugs. I feel the need to complain about the government. My taste in music has changed. Oh god, no. As much as I can love FNM and Blood Duster, these days it’s all too mellow. Yeh, weezer, Dieselhed, the usual… now Gabriella Cilmi. Please don’t think I’ve turned gay; I haven’t. I just reckon her CD is pretty ok. It’s heaps catchy, like herpes in a Sydney bathroom.

And them Double D lollies. Man, I was in hysterics before. The frequent sound of bwarrrp; funnier than anything you’ve ever seen hosted by Rove. Funnier than that “Strauchnie” character the fat guy with no neck does. Then again, just walking to the milk bar is funnier than Rove/Strauchnie. Waste of an analogy there. Still, the trouser trumpet sound is much easier on the ears than The Vines, and smells less too.

What’s today? Saturday? Great. Patriot Games is on the tele and Harrison Ford was talking on his huge mobile phone that looked bigger than the Nokia 100 I had in 1995. Analogue all the way to the moon, baby! Yeah, as excellent as the ’90s were, you just couldn’t get a fuzzy recording of your favourite concert/schoolyard beating without some sort of mega-huge video camera. Still, it was great to get absolutely blind off 6-8 beers, even if they were warm cans of VB. Beggers cannae be choosers.

So what an eventful week this has been. Made the trek to Buderim Forest, a huge 5km drive away, only to get half way through the walking track to find the rest of the way was closed for re-vegetation. Bah! So the next day there was another trip to the other entrance, which was open, and got to see some waterfall, not unlike that tiny one around Mt Dandenong, without the vertical climb back to the car. Unfortunately, last time I went to Mt Dandenong/Olinda Falls, I’d forgotten about the hill from Year 12 photography class [ Which James and I flew up the hill to quickly drink said warm VB before the rest of the class made it up ] and man, it felt like running a marathon. With trees to rest on. And no crowds cheering. And no walking like a robot once I got to the finish, like that woman at the Melbourne Commonwealth Games the other year. What a retard. She walked across the line the way Jimmy on South Park talks.

Then there’s the one about having five days off work. That only means I have to buy five packs of DDs, eat a pack a day, poop, poop and poop more. And do long, funny sounding farts, to giggle at, cos farts are hilarious.

I got the new Weezer album yesterday, their third self-titled album. I dun get it either, nor do I get Rivers’ moustach. It’s very Earl-like. So I reckon he’d be better off with a Jamie Hyneman walrus-style mo.

And it’s World Youth Day, week, whatever. Anything to import child molestors The Pope, and let Kev welcome foreigners in their own language, which brings me onto this:

And now your mate Kev is having a cry because Brendan Nelson apparently doesn’t have the same global warming/climate change beliefs he has. Which doesn’t surprise me at all. All of Kev’s beliefs = $ in his pocket/$ to pay for Therese’s dreadful wardrobe. And we all know those with too much $ have a small wang, so they compensate by driving a German sports car, preferably a convertible, painted red. Or a Toyota Prius. Anyway, the only people who believe in “climate change” are politicians, hippies and environmentalists. Politicians lie, hippies never shower, and environmentalists reckon V8s pollute too much, so their mode of transport is an old-beat-up-constantly-backfiring Kombi van with smiley face spare wheel cover and smoke pouring out the exhaust.

And remember them 1980’s frat movies, the kind with gratuitous boob scenes, where the nerdy girl in the library would take off her glasses, shake her hair, and be an instant stunner? I found this pic, which proves it is all true.

OK, she ain’t a stunner, and she’s probably only 14, the age Andy approves of, but otherwise, it’s all true. Even the teeth get some magical treatment, just by taking off them specs. Shame her left eye is still half an inch higher than her right, but beggers can’t be choosers, right Andy?

I gotta take a slash. And grab more beer.

Thanks Kevin Rudd. You did one thing John Howard could never do, and that was be Prime Minister when Big Brother gets axed. Hurrah! No more squeaky voices only a can-o-WD40 could fix! I can take them earplugs out. Now I gotta ask, can you just do your best to stop other channels from picking it up, changing the style/format/location, and axing it six weeks later, a la Channel 10 when they picked up A Country Practice.

And I’m sorry to overwork you [ spesh when you're doing oh so hard to convince us to pay more for power because of some "carbon is bad" brainwashing you suffered , and trying to force it onto us ], but can you also get Channel 10 to dump the people who thought So You Think You Can Dance USA is good enough to show for three months, just after the So You Think You Can Dance Australia has ended. That, or maybe get them to make the series just a 3 episode special, with all the highlights, and just keep free to air TV semi-decent.

And make Australian Idol, with all the people at the audition who should’ve stayed in the shower, keep it to one episode, not the first two weeks…

And tell the woman who does the voiceover for Neighbours commercials to stop being so dramatic, and asking questions. “Steph. Is in the hands of an evil maaannnnn, but will Toady make it to her in time?” Ugh. Neighbours and Home and Away are like one big disaster zone. Remind me never to move to Summer Bay, Erinsborough, or the town from Blue Heelers. That joint has gotta be home to more criminals than Frankston, Dandenong, Footscray, Northcote and St Albans combined.

You* wanted it, you got it. Anthony Mundine Refused Entry. Sure, it’s not animated, kinda** lame, and heaps too short, but so what. What are you gonna do? Go queue for an iPhone?

*You = Poopey.
** Kinda = heaps.

Earlier this week, I said something about making a dodgy cartoon and all. It’s taken all of the past 1 hour and 6 minutes, but here is the list of the regular characters you’d see. Before you ask where Livinia Nixon’s arms are, they’re behind her head.

Cast of characters - ‘The Dodgy Brothers’ aka Steve Bracks and Kevin07, cricketer/sloth Shane Warne, sexiest woman in all of Melbourne town Livinia Nixon, Chinese restaurant chef John So, and all round retard Corey Delaney/Worthington/Whatever you call him. 

I got a whole list going for cameo appearances, but just can’t find the right pictures, example - Wayne Carey with a rolled up $5 note in his nose, or John Howard with a black Kappa tracksuit, the kind the wogs wore in 2002. I’m sure my super l33t Photoshop skills will get something happening soon. And I don’t know if I should keep the characters locally based, not when there is people like George W Bush, Sean Kingston and the fat guy from Smash Mouth with pink hair in this world.

Also, someone help us think of a name to call my ‘toon. And some Aussies you’d love to see, with their role. And by Aussies I’m not talking about successful Kiwis we claim as ours. Something like Chopper Read as a kindergarten teacher, etc…

Edit - Cameos added.

Angry teen John Howard, drug dealer Wayne Carey, Kevin Rudd’s missus Therese Rein, Richie Benaud as the old grumpy guy, and as the lovable ladies man, it’s Kochie!