Sunday, June 29, 2008

Pop x Tarts

No, not a pregnant teenager, but actually the greatest breakfast entity to grace the otherwise uninspired breakfast aisle of your local shopping centre. They haven't been around for about ten years and the Pop Tart is seldom brought up in conversation nowadays because people have either chosen to forget, or are in denial, knowing that mentioning such a thing will only bring up false feelings of bliss, satisfaction and a general sense of being alive.
Times have changed and someone is doing something about it. I caught wind of a fresh shipment of Pop Tarts the other day through a connection who can only be referred to as 'Lentil'. Being a regular on the confectionary circuit, Lentil likes to keep his ears to the street and has been known to come up with gold on several occasions.
This was one of those occasions.
Lentil likes to keep a low profile when he's hooking up a transaction. He threatened to choke slam me if i took anymore photos of him.
We had to communicate via sms after word had gotten out. He tried to tell me to wait a couple of days, but i had already organised the party.
Lentil obliged and sent me the details.
I got there and sure enough, the package was still intact. Some junkies were lurking, i think they had a pretty good idea of what was going down.
I tried to pull the package through but the size served me a large helping of difficulty with a side-dish of pissing me off.
After half an hour, i rotated that bitch and success was mine and nobody else's.
Your pearly gates mean nothing. This is what the entrance to heaven looks like.
This guy has too many hats, but not enough time to wear them all. I agreed with the problem and proceeded to cook up my goods.
As per the package, i only warmed them because they are actually already cooked. Light setting will ensure success.
This sight marks the end of a decade of dissapointment.
This photo is R-rated.

Listen to this while you're eating for maximum happiness. Wale is the future.

I'd like to thank Lentil, Transperth and Kellogg's for giving me reason to live again. Don't bother seeking these things out either, i heard they're not available anymore.

Joe is 20.

Joe celebrated his 20th year of being ruthless recently. The Flying Scotsman was the venue and broken chairs was the theme. The photo above is so retarded it should be in a wheelchair. I don't know what's better, the photo he is holding or the photo itself.

This is how things ended up. End of the night x gay club x no homo x joe beating everyone at dancing.

Happy Birthday Joe, here is your publicity.

Get the fuck out of the way.

Remember when you could walk into McDonalds without having to dodge a bunch of shitkickers? Why should I have to feel like a Salvation Army representative every time i want to access a cheeseburger because you made some bad life choices or your parents took away your internet? I have nothing against homeless people or emo's but if you're going to lurk out the front of anywhere, have the decency to leave at least two metres of walkway for those of us that have better things to do, like eat cheeseburgers.
I'm aware that none of these people are ever going to come across my complaint and i'm probably never going to say anything to them through fear of getting a needle forcefully inserted into my person, i just want some sympathy.

Monday, June 16, 2008

"This didn't need to happen!"

Are the only words i could hear as i witnessed the epic battle between the super polite bouncers from the Seizan bar and the seemingly harmless posse i had rolled out with on this particular evening. The bouncers had the upper hand (being bouncers and all) but the fight was broken up before anyone was seriously beaten. As soon as the overpowering scent of bacon filled the air my only thought was that if camera flashes equated to a single unit of damage, the battle would have been ours.

Following is a chronological collage of the events leading up to what i am quoting as winner of best fight/action scene for 2008. Started off at Bobby Dazzler's. The event in question was Yuta's going away. This photo of LJ and the Brass is a rare one indeed, i hardly ever see these two in public together.
"I hadn't showered for a few days when i wrote this" - Joe
Brass got ruthless on some rubble, i'm surprised he wasn't pissing out ink with the amount of bombing that was going down.
This chair destroyed itself before we got there through fear of crossing the path of hurt that our posse was laying down.
Caught these guys in the middle of a photoshoot. So i took advantage of the lighting.
Joe took advantage of the lighting as well.
Arrived at Seizan, only to be greeted by cat stranglers and dying giraffes.

Yonny took initiative.
Potato, pre getting forcefully evicted by three bouncers. That's right, he was so on point that it took three black belts to take him out.
This song is probably the reason everyone got so ruthless.

Ambassadors for good behaviour.

Brass - The calm before the storm.
Brass - The storm.

It took Yow a solid half an hour to inform me of all the nicknames this guy has. Don't let the caucasian skin tone fool you, he is as black as night.

J-Bunny, contemplating his next move. I think he chose chaos.
Potato and Yuta. Enjoying having their souls taken.

You will be missed desu.

Tom was there, making sure everything was running smoothly.

Naish and Joe, dance-fighting.

This photo gets a brother all warm and tingly.

I don't know why, but i take a-lot of photos of Joe.

I think this dance was called the "Black Milk" due to it's resemblance of a Chocolate thickshake in early stages of preparation. Justin later told me that we probably weren't aware, but this dance is his way of communicating with his no doubt african-american ancestry.

Moth, getting a mention as per our conversation.

I captured the exact moment when things started going down/uphill.

Another photo of Joe. Looking very much like a mental patient in a padded room.

Yow needed a break. I think i overstimulated him with my knowledge and compassion in regards to Asia's lack of understanding when it comes to Western forms of entertainment, yet they somehow manage to dictate everything that entertains us.

Blood was spilt. Big shout out to the overzealous bouncers at Seizan, who clearly don't understand how we get down, yet somehow managed to dicate how much fun we actually had.

Faggots (excluding any of my friends in the picture).

Powered by the 'black milk' display that took place earlier, white chocolate stepped to the bouncers for one last dance.

Police, late as usual.
Brass, still has time for the little people.

The last photo i took. J-Bunny pissed so hard that the Bell was actually ringing for several minutes afterwards.

After the victory that was the Seizan bar, we bailed to the only venue capable of destroying a perfectly good evening, Capitol.

The End.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

How to be awkward like a champion.

We encounter awkward situations every day. Whether it be at home, in the workplace, at school or in a public toilet, awkwardness is something that cannot be avoided. Personally, i enjoy it and will sometimes travel long distances just to see an unfortunate silence or somebody tripping over.

Here are some tips on how to be awkward.

- Own people at handshakes.

The first handshake can make or break a relationship. It is the first form of contact you will make with someone you haven't met and pretty much sets the standard for all future encounters. So, instead of going in for the open palm, grasp and single shake method you should definately break into a crazy routine incorporating snaps, clicks, elbow taps and the Macarena and/or Riverdance. If you really want to make an impression, drop a quote from 'How She Move' or 'Bring it On' and tell them how much you 'brought it' and how much they didn't. Make sure it's a special handshake that you do only with your friends to add to the embarassment of the other person. Once you've lost them in your deadly array of handshake trickery, ask them if they know what's up, knowing well and clear that they don't.
Congratulations, this person will never invite you to anything.

- Be a door to door salesperson.

Walk up to a complete strangers house, knock on their door and ask them if they want to buy mobile phones or make donations to the RSPCA/WWF. Have the stranger slam the door in your face or tell you to get a real job for maximum awkwardness.

-Be a loudmouthed faggot on the train.

Make sure the train is packed. Receive a mobile phone call from your mother or ex-boyfriend (i say ex-boyfriend because it is only girls that will openly talk on the train about their relationships or failures thereof) and proceed to argue with them at maximum volume, make sure that you are being so loud and obnoxious that not only everyone on the train can hear you, but also nearby cars speeding past on the freeway. If someone looks at you cockeyed, orally blast them for not understanding your problems or apologise to them for not having a perfect life like theirs.
Pass gas whilst on the phone for a higher percentage of red faces per carriage.

- Be old or lame whilst waiting in line.

When it comes to your turn at the counter (cafe, japanese food, subway), openly complain about the last purchase you made there. Complaints such as having to wait too long in the line, your last coffee being too hot or cold or your last japanese dish being too japanese will suffice. When offered a refund or some form of reimbursement, refuse it and tell them that you only wanted to let them know. Make sure the staff member you are talking too is a junior employee that has no idea what you are talking about and is literally shitting his pants because he was never taught to cope with anally retentive shitcocks like yourself, especially at peak hour lunchtime.
Make sure you don't get tripped up or spat on by the other people in the line who have been rolling their eyes for the last fifteen minutes.

For more tips on how to be awkward, or to feel awkward yourself, visit your local centrelink. Their staff are basically proffesionals in creating or inciting awkwardness.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008