Bastards everywhere!

(No I will not get over it).

Foregone conclusion and other thoughts for the day.

1. What a one horse race. Smith wins. Prize TBA. May involve some of Gaydorade's bodily fluids.
2. Have you ever noticed how quiet things are sometimes when you take your goddamned iPod off?
3. Hangdog self-disliking session - I know I could have worked harder! But I didn't want to! Waa waa cry cry why life so silly etc.
4. TISM.
5. Why can't there be katsu-don every day?
6. Come on daylight savings, cooommmeeee ooonnnnnnn.
7. In response to the anonymous commenter who labelled myself (and I assume all other contributors to this blog) wankers, I only have more TISM for you.
8. "In America, your game-shows reward intelligence. Here in Japan, our game-shows punish ignorance!"
9. No more neo-Nazis, please.
10. The Latham diaries - the ending's still the same, so don't stress if you miss reading them eh.

posted by: Cranky at 17:00 | link | comments (2) |
mundananus

Comment on comment.

Thanks to the unlogged anti-capitalist nihilist Baudrillard-loving spam robot who left the following comment not so long ago:

"drink coca cola, you pretentious prick
 Drink/eat 'x' product (insert your ad here)
 why bother at all? you're not even real"

I feel your pain, unlogged anti-capitalist nihilist Baudrillard-loving spam robot, oh Lord I feel your pain (even though an anti-capitalist nihilist Baudrillard-lover would probably say "God is dead and was was buried LIVE! on Fox news"...)

For the record:

Coke is shit, but I drink it sometimes when I'm hung over and when I do, I FEEL THE PLANET WEEPING (plus the vegans, but they cry about everything so who gives a brown one).

I drink and eat (and consume in a broader sense) all the time, which seeing I'm a human being and need to eat and drink to survive might not be such a thing to hate myself for after all, and it's not really a matter of what "product" (x, y or w) it is because, well, everything is a product. I think you meant "brand name" perhaps?

I don't need to insert an ad anywhere, as my life is already one big screaming advertisement for me (I'll be running a jingle-writing competition on this blog soon however... Fred is already disqualified).

I'm not really going to bother with the "not even real" call because I'm happy enough with my own self-perceived existential status. As for anti-capitalist nihilist Baudrillard-loving spam robots, who knows where reality ends and the simulacra begins?

THIS BLOG POST DID NOT REALLY HAPPEN.

Actually it did, and while you were distracted reading it I just went and got a $5 steak, so pretty soon I can go to the shithouse and make a nice new "product" to feed the anti-capitalist nihilist Baudrillard-loving spam robots with. Mmmmmmmm.

posted by: Cranky at 10:10 | link | comments (2) |
mundananus, life can be so stupid

Top 3 Australians.

As it seems the tide of That's Australianisms have abated I must reluctantly call the competition quits and begin the onerous task of selecting the winner.

Listed below for the joy and benefit of all are my picks for the top three - given in no particular order mind you.

I'm going to give another week for people to comment and select their favourite of these three. The winner will be the one with the most votes (this is a first-past-the-post voting system, ie non-preferential, you only get to choose one). Oh yeah if you don't put your name to a vote then it doesn't count. Got it? It's exciting, heaps better than Australian Idol and shit.

If there's a tie then I will deal with that when it happens. Also, I still don't know what the prize is.

Anyway, here's the three: vote away.

Finalist #1 - thanks to DiSmithive for this one, he certainly set a formidable standard early on:

if you've got immigrants in your kitchen
cookin' up tucker thats bitchin'
THAT'S AUSTRALIAN

Finalist #2 - Mim earns a hard-fought-for place in the final three for using the word "spoof", well done:

leaving your keyboard sticky with spoof
because you masturbate over equine flu horse hoof
THAT'S AUSTRALIAN

Finalist #3 - T-Bone cruises in  with a last minute effort, awarded a place in the final three for being "topical":

If you hear “Germaine Greer”
And give a contemptuous sneer
THAT'S AUSTRALIAN

So they're my final three. Vote already. There were many other worthy entrants and maybe this should have been decided by a panel of experts chaired by Les Murray, but seriously I gotta get on with my life. Don't complain that yours didn't make it either, especially you Gemma.

I would also like to express my heartfelt disappointment in all the "poet" friends of mine who were too hoity-toity talking about liminal spaces and the nervous thrill of (mis)translation to bother putting an entry in - except Astrid and of course the ever enigmatic Fred who in a typical manner declined to rhyme, nice try Fred but rules is rules. SHAME SHAME SHAME on the rest of you bloody layabout poets.

posted by: Cranky at 12:01 | link | comments (14) |
win a prize

New link.

Hi, thanks to Ashtray McDisco for this link as it has changed my life.

I swear to fuck I'm gonna get off my blog and work on my database now. Ugh...

posted by: Cranky at 15:13 | link | comments (3) |
mundananus

That's AUSTRALIAN.

More astute readers of Bastards Everywhere will have noted the abhorrent new ad campaign for The Australian newspaper, featuring nice sanitised pictures of a diverse and wholesome populace accompanied by short little rhyming verses that could only be described by words such as "doggerel", "rubbish", "vomituous" and even "shithouse". Examples:

When the old and the new
are both true blue,
That's Australian.

When hard work on the ground
brings prosperity all around
That's Australian.

And my personal fave:

When persistence is the answer
for curing a cancer,
That's Australian.

An aftermath of last night's events (pretty much straight after the "kebeb wrapper DEFINITELY NOT thrown out a moving vehicle" incident (or kebabgate as it may be known from now on) I composed (with the good help of Mr T Roxbruh) a few ditties that the marketing LEGENDS at News Limited may rate highly, eg:

When you're wearing your pyjamas
and you look like pink bananas
That's Australian.

When you're wearing a watch
and grabbing your crotch,
That's Australian.

When you'll never see your wife again
so you climb aboard Bill Heffernan,
That's Australian.

Actually I must confess the third was contrived today and I wasn't drunk, which isn't much to be proud of but hey my life is littered with shit I'm far from proud of so I think I'll survive the lame Heffernan call. Gaydor meanwhile asserted that the Heffernan rhyme was definitely NOT Australian as nobody would ever have sex with him (except himself), I'm not so fussed with the intellectual arguments put forth by Rolfenstein however. The second one was by Mr Roxbbrrraaaaahhhh himself, what a man.

ANYWAY, now it's your turn. Contribute your own shoddy doggerel by way of a comment (or better yet, a portfolio of such works presented as part of a grant application to the Australia Council). The rules are:

1. Format as above, ie three lines, the first two must rhyme (think: worse is better), the third line is always "That's Australian", as if I needed to spell that out...

2. It has to be shit. Shitty shitto McShitey shite with a creme de la crappo on top.

3. Did I mention it really has to be fucking shit?

4. The one I like the most gets a prize for its author (actual nature of 'prize' to be confirmed, but for example you may have the 'honour' of buying me a six-pack, or giving me some of your spare change).

posted by: Cranky at 15:11 | link | comments (18) |
win a prize, oooookkkaaaaayyyyyyyy, trashbags

Bad Cranky.

"Did you just chuck that out the window?"

"No."

"What did you just throw out  the window?"

"Nooothhiiing."

"You did."

"No. Nothing happened. Nothing went out the window."

"You threw your leftover kebab out the window!"

"I did not, I ate it."

"You threw it out the window."

"I did not throw my kebab out the window, I ate it, and I definitely did not throw the wrapper out after eating the kebab."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to text  (name deleted to protect the innocent) to tell them I just threw my kebab wrapper out the window, I know they'll be so impressed with me."

posted by: Cranky at 14:47 | link | comments (1) |
trashbags, grow up cranky

Awesome news!

After Jenny Jerkoff (see earlier post today) I must bring the vibe back to a better level by delivering some great news:

That is, the DRUNKEN RASTA BOOMBOX BUSKER DUDE IS BACK!!!!!!!

Yes, the GREATEST busker in the Chinatown, Ultimo and Central vicinity is still alive and kicking and playing his MAD FAT TECHNO DIDGERIDOO DOOF DOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! to the no-doubt wildly appreciative audience of commuters in the Devonshire Street Tunnel.

Shit yeah!

Past readers of 'Vertigo' magazine would remember the column 'Artists vs. Artists', in which I wrote about the face-off between the Drunken Rasta Boombox Dude and the Big Smiley Asian Guitar Guy, which I declared an unequivocal and I daresay devastating victory for the former... well since then I haven't seen much of either. I might have seen Mr Smiley Guitar once, but my recollection is vague. If it was him he no doubt would be barely managing to live with himself and his paltry talents after having his busking prowess utterly ravaged by the MAD FAT BOOMBOX POWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of the Drunken Rasta Dude. Meanwhile Boombox dude has also been scarce in presence... until today!

I even gave him forty cents. He opened his mouth and said something like "yaaarrraaaarrr", which I took to mean "thanks". I saw right into his mouth. His teeth seemed sooty, and some of them were not there. I can only assume that years of close exposure to the MAD FAT BOOMBOX POWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! would have dislodged some of the teeth over the years. I guess that's the price one pays for totally ruling.

posted by: Cranky at 17:05 | link | comments (1) |
mundananus, moozik

Whatever Jerkoff.

For once Gerard Henderson wasn't the biggest wanker on the Herald's opinion page today! Hard to believe I know, but today's title-holder is one Jenny Tabakoff, or Jenny Jerkoff as she shall be called from this moment forth.

The esteemed Jerkoff has written some great stuff in the Herald before today, notably about curtains and the great art versus craft debate. Thrilling shit. Although in fairness I also wonder why we need to talk about "window treatments" instead of curtains myself...

Indeed on that sentiment I must admit Jerkoff had me with my guard down for a second. I do have a streak of language purist in me. In particular the undermining of language by corporate drones or 'weasels' (in Don Watson's 'Weasel Words' sense) gets my goat and by jingo the goat gets rubbed I might add! Rubbed all the wrong way, that is in the way that does not arouse the goat but makes it want to headbutt with those curly horns in a great orgy of goat-rage that may or may not result in the deaths of toddlers. Deadly flu strain be damned! Beware the angry goats!

Erm... Oh yeah, Jenny Jerkoff.

So I was sucked in by the anti-weasel word sentiment I detected in her whinge about the misuse of the word "culture", and sure I agree to an extent. For example, it seems to me that the best way for bosses or bureaucrats to blame their underlings without taking any blame is to attribute everything to a "culture of inefficiency" or some shit like that, which has always struck me as a reluctance to analyse the role of good or bad management in any given shitty situation... so yeah, with you so far Jerkoff.

Then the blinder (and I should have seen it coming I know): the assertion that "youth culture" and "pop culture" are, in a word, meaningless. First problem: only one youth culture? Second problem: shut up you old cow! Here's MY assertion: youth culture is meaningless (to you) because you're not young! If you don't understand it doesn't mean that nobody else can! Yes, kids are lame and probably more materialistic than is good for them. But does that indicate "meaninglessness"? Forget about everything from your youth kids unless an adult told you it was worth remembering, because if it was made by kids or said by kids or played with by kids or imagined by kids (or teens, or "the youth of today"), then it's MEANINGLESS.

Oh, yeah, "subculture" is of course "lower" than culture. Just read that bit again. Maybe you'd accept the value and meaning of bikie culture if a bunch of Nomads or Hells Angels had one of their big rides start out the front of your house. Or kick your door in, smash your face open, and use your bathtub to make speed in. Either way, would serve you right you dirty old crone. As for your below the belt dig at those Trekkies, I say LAY OFF. I hope a Klingon gnaws out your stomach and spits it at your children.

BY THE WAY JERKOFF: "landscape art", which is of course a cultural thing (as well as the other things you like to dismiss), also happens to be FUCKING TEDIOUS. If that's what you call culture then please spare me from the horror of your company. Or the horror of being your friend. Which you probably find in scarcity, except at the "over fifties appreciation of all things old fashioned and proper and literal" society. The motto for this club would be "When we say gay, we just mean gay." The rest of the world's response would probably be "when we say shut up, we actually mean hurry up and jump in the grave you're boring the shit out of us people who don't totally hate life."

posted by: Cranky at 16:47 | link | comments (4) |
im fucking pissed off

Revisited.

Went back to the ole stompin' ground yesterday and partook in some of the ole habit. Nice familiar stagger down the street beforehand, the special gait I like to call Cranky's Patented Longneck Swagger. Got take away booze from the Rando Sando and wondered what the fuck the dude playing guitar had done so wrong to get kicked out of AD/DC all those years ago. He was playing a live medley/mash of 'Jailbreak' and Van Morrison's 'Gloria'. The old bitches loved him. We all thought he was a living example of the middle-aged 'success' we hope never to be. Imagine actually TRYING and ending up like that. Ye gods. Walked past the old place, that is the place OLDER than the old place, and thought about the balcony and how good it would be in summer and how much dust was caked to the walls when I left. The lane was open again at long last. Thought about throwing a bottle at the near-complete apartment blocks, didn't finish the longneck in time so I left it on a car instead. Pissed on the soccer field. Saw some of the Johhny Cash film, laughed my guts out at the scenes of the amphetamine-addled Cash ripping a sink from the wall. Talked about the locality here and there. The Town and Country had been robbed at gunpoint, twice. J-man says he reckoned he saw the fellas scoping the place out: sinister midnight loiterers in the empty block that can't be built on thanks to the sinking earth. The cafe closed down as well. I made a mental note the call the folks up and wish them well. We drank more beer and talked about the cat and the little dog and how the little dog was scared of the hall. The others soon fell asleep on the couch and so I had to go. I crossed that ole bridge and remembered liking it at night. A train sped under me, I took out my pocket-sized notebook and scribbled something about how trains weren't snakes, they were caterpillars. That was all I wrote in it all night. Got as far as Victoria Road and was tempted by the lone kebab joint with the gaudy lights, I saw the empty table and the abandoned car park and decided I was too scared. Way too much like a scene from a Lynch film, I was expecting a fucking midget jump out of the garbage and tell me he had been in my dreams and had sex with Patricia Arquette's favourite ferret or some shit like that. Munged down a Victoria Yeeros instead - chicken, not the best. Not the best by a long shot.

posted by: Cranky at 20:48 | link | comments (3) |
mundananus, trashbags

Fings wot pissed me orf today.

1. Disposable wooden chopsticks. What the fuck? What the fuck is so hard with having a few dozen cheap-arse chopsticks you can use a few thousand times? Is it so hard to fucking run them through an automated dishwasher? Or even wash by hand? I wash dishes and shit all the time, I even get paid to do it once a week, and let me tell you they're not fucking hard to get clean! Furthermore why the fuck do they have to be joined together?!?!?! They always snap the wrong way so you have one chopstick with a munted fat end and the other one is all skinny and splintery, like Kate Moss. FUCK!!!!

2. My USB thingy. So you had to make the interface so fancy you jerks at "Cruzer" (what kind of a fucktard name for an IT  products company is that, like "yeah man I got a great career at Cruzer", you know it sounds like a cocktail bar that fuckheads go to!). You had to make it so any normal computer takes three times longer to figure out what the fuck to do with the thumbdrive when you stick it in, then waste even more time with the "helpful" menu that pops up as if I have no idea how to click on the freaking "external storage device Drive E" thing I always click on, wankers! It's so fucking helpful that two out of three computers I used today didn't even recognise the fact that there was a fucking device stuck in the USB hole! Arseholes! Another bit of techno-junk for someone's house to get built on.

3. This computer's touchpad thing. It's SO HELPFUL when just did it again CUNTyou're typing away like mad and oops you happen to brush the touchpad and all of a sudden you've clicked in the middle of some sentence you wrote e previous two rantshalf an hour ago and are splicing gibberish into the middle of it, I just did it three times writing th. See I

4. Thinking of ways to describe things. You could describe a roll of film by its length you see (ie it's physical length), it's duration (ie duration of the movie itself), where it's currently stored (that's called PROVENANCE apparently), who owns the copyright, who directed the movie, who produced it, and even what condition the film is in. I'M SO THRILLED I'M SHITTING MYSELF.

5. Aden. Because one of the better things I found today was this. So in the spirit of sharing the joy I emailed a copy to Aden who just said "er it's just a close up using a wide angled lens", as if that stops it being amusing, cunt. (He then however told me about this which lessened my rage... then he told me he was going to make couscous for dinner and the cycle of hate started again...).

posted by: Cranky at 18:12 | link | comments (3) |
mundananus, im fucking pissed off, life can be so stupid