0x011F

Anyone looking for a flatmate?

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 09:39:17 GMT

I'm thinking about moving.

three more days.

Tue, 09 Oct 2007 06:08:34 GMT

three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days. three more days.

only three more days.

Telecasters to F. Reverb to 6.

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 10:05:19 GMT

Have you been waiting
For me?
Cause I've been waiting
For you
And I've been waiting
And I've been waiting
And I've been waiting
So Long

Out in the streets
And above the boards
Out over bridges
In the mornings

And is all this waiting
Making you feel down?
Is all this waiting
Making you feel tired

And I've been waiting
And I've been waiting
And I've been waiting
So Long

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 10:39:26 GMT

Ugh. Stress. Work. They can both go fuck themselves.

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 14:36:26 GMT

Facebook needs a new motto: Ex comparo, libertas.

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 14:39:28 GMT

Arrested Development! Woo! Yes, I'm very very late to the party! But, yes! NO TOUCHING!

Please tell me they give George Michael another joke!

I smiled at work today!

It's 1am!

I can't wait for Superbad!

Zzzzing!

We live in the future.

Fri, 27 Jul 2007 01:03:34 GMT

10.54am : Bracks Resigns

11.03am:

LOLBRACKS

New Belle and Sebastian Album!

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 07:41:28 GMT

and i am in fits of laughter.

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 08:52:50 GMT

The important questions get answered.

is this a ________ I see before me?

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 10:23:53 GMT

EXT. DARK, COLD, WET MELBOURNE STREET. THERE ARE TRAM LINES.

PROTAGONIST is standing at a street corner, jaw set and shoulders squared, 
gazing into the distance. A light turns green and he begins striding, purposefully.

"Pure Morning" by Placebo starts playing. PROTAGONIST engages in a monologue.

                                                 PROTAGONIST                                         
               I sense an end to the madness.
               A slow change, a scent on the breeze.
               Whispers of better things to come and 
               self-illuminating bricks in the path before me.

               And whenever I doubt myself, or if I stumble
               I am reminded of my mantra:
               
               Yes, we have no bananas.

thoughts on Safari 3

Fri, 22 Jun 2007 02:26:30 GMT

The search bar should be at the BOTTOM. Like it is in FIREFOX. The browser that INVENTED it.
I want a preference called "Fuck You, Web Designer." that ignores any CSS rules applied to button elements, excluding background and text colours on text fields.

the future...

Thu, 21 Jun 2007 12:33:54 GMT

is Camino.

This will probably only make sense to about 5 of you, and even then, only 2 will find it funny...

Fri, 15 Jun 2007 02:58:47 GMT

I'm working on a new screenplay.

TOPLESS QUANTUM NUCLEAR BONGOS : The Richard Feynman Story

(edit: hooray, i'm slightly more amusing than I thought I was!)

to dan from sydney, my greatest fan,

Wed, 13 Jun 2007 12:46:56 GMT

FUCK.

Thu, 24 May 2007 11:59:48 GMT

I want to unwatch every fucking episode of that show. I want it to have never existed. I am going to go back in time and kill JJ Abrams, just before he makes the last episode of Felicity.

My mind feels as though it has been gangraped by the entire population of Tunisia.

I am physically ill.

Jesus. H. Christ.

A thoughts on the final episode of Season 1 of Heroes

Tue, 22 May 2007 13:30:34 GMT

I came so hard I blew a hole in my desk.

The Posthumus Postulates of Pope Paulo

Tue, 08 May 2007 12:43:00 GMT

Idea for a tragic sci-fi love story

Isolated from the rest of the world for years by their differences, two empaths meet by chance in the street. Seeing eachother for what they are, they fall in love.

Two weeks later, the subsequent emotional feedback loop drives them to suicide.

Idea for a new website

Design Your Own Author

Similar to choose-your-own-adventure books, you read through a piece of fiction, but instead of choosing the actions of the protagonists, you choose the demeanour of the author, ie : romantic, sadistic, surrealistic.

Exegesis. Not Just For the Elderly!

Wed, 02 May 2007 11:13:00 GMT

The attendant took a long, slow drag from his cigarette. A car slowly pulled into the driveway, giving him ample time to drop the butt in an ash tray, straighten his hat and stand stiffly at the kerb.

The window glides down, and the driver nods at the Attendant. Swiftly, he reaches forward to open the door.

"So, did Madamoiselle make a decision concerning which dresses she would like to purchase?"

"Plehd. Nesk row tader."

A pretty young girl sits in the back seat, surrounded by hundreds of bags from high-class fashion stores. Her eyes swim in lazy circles, like a pair of stoned trout.

"Aha! I see you have been drinking. Again! How wonderous and not at all surprising! We can always count on Madamoiselle to maintain a level of inebrieated consistency unmatched by even the most devout."

From inside the car, the driver can be heard chuckling.

"Come, let us get you back up to your bedroom. I will call for the porters to fetch your purchases." Turning back towards the building, he shouts: "Edgar! Come fetch the bags!"

The young girl gurgles.

"And bring a bucket!" Reaching inside, the attendant drags the almost-comatose girl out by her forearm. Bags, dresses, shoes and empty bottles spill out onto the footpath. A crowd gathers.

"My, you obviously have been spending quite a lot! I wonder how many credit cards you burnt through today. Three? Four?"

"O? B'ma-dnag nit nemi rep xemai."

"Seven! My my. This is wonderful. This is obviously why I am paid so little, because you have many needs!"

An assistant arrives with a bucket. The girl lurches forward, seizes it and puts it on her head. The crowd grows.

"Red! Rognor wehtnieseht."

"You shall be inside soon, don't you worry."

"Dare? Ottuo bae-rau."

"Yes, yes, I agree. They are all lovely."

The attendant supports the young girl as she staggers forward, bucket perched rakisihly on her head. Someone in the crowd takes a photo.

"Oy!" cries the girl, as she stumbles into the door jamb.

Regents Wrecking Rivulets of Repeating Sponge. Ad littera, rumpere infortunatus

Wed, 02 May 2007 10:32:53 GMT

The previous post should be considered redacted for the following reasons:

It's not funny.
It makes no sense
Being slapped with a large trout is no laughing matter.
Being laughed at while slapping a trout is considered an act heresy in Tonga.
The commonly accepted MacErniston Quotient of Trout is 73i
73i trout cannot easily be expressed in terms understood by Milliners, Catholic Priests, Eucelidian Non-Adherants, Wookiees, Paul Keating or people from Broadmeadows
∴
This stream of inanity has gone on far too long
QED

The Power of Christ's Second Cousin Edgar Compels You…to Engage In Cartography!

Wed, 02 May 2007 10:14:06 GMT

"Hugh?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"You're…prepared, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mary."

"Because I wouldn't want us to go any further if you weren't. This is the right thing to do, isn't it Hugh?"

"Yes, Mary."

"Did you bring the map?"

"Yes, Mary."

"Good. I wouldn't want to do this without the map."

"Yes, Mary."

"And, I know Father Richards said we shouldn't be thinking about doing it yet, but I'm beginning to have my doubts about the apparent authority of the Catholic Church on a great number of things. It seems so silly to let them tell us what to do all the time. It is silly, isn't it, Hugh?"

"Yes. Mary?"

"What is it Hugh?"

"…"

The sound of a large trout being slapped against the side of a human head echoes throughout the night.

Hugh sighs, contentedly.

Pithiness Abounds at the Collective for Angry Lispers

Wed, 02 May 2007 09:36:56 GMT

Roger still wasn't quite sold on the idea of consuming alcoholic beverages from footwear. However, his hosts had been extremely patient and supportive thus far and it would, he reasoned, be a terrific insult to refuse.

As he lifted the clog to his mouth the acrid smell of last year's wine, mingling with Ölaf's foot-sweat tickled his olfactory receptors in much the same way a chainsaw tickles an overgrown hedgerow – that is to say, it ripped them apart mercilessly.

Gagging, he dropped the smelly clog and fell back, clawing widly at the side-board to stop himself from toppling to the ground. Wine slopped all over his shoes. Ölaf and his companions laughed uproariously.

"You find our wine quite strong, yes?" asked a pretty, blonde girl. The laughing continued. Damir had warned him about this, and Roger knew what to do.

He dashed into the lounge room, and dragged a chair back with him. Placing it squarely in front of Ölaf, he climed on top, turned around, dropped his trousers, bent over and farted loudly into Ölaf's face.

Ölaf's companions were laughing almost as much as Ölaf himself. As the din subsided, Roger pulled up his trousers and dusted himself off, proudly.

"Now... now you are one of us, surely." Ölaf gasped, trying to regain his breath.

Roger nodded, grinning.

"May I have the bottle opener now?"