Sunday, December 13, 2009


Who doesn't love a good curry? Gosh, this is amusing. I must update with real things soon! Sorry, amigos...


If you can read this without blowing a piston then there's no hope foryou.
I was balling by the end. Note: Please take time to read this slowly.
For those of you who have lived in Natal, you know how typical this is. They
actually have a Curry Cook-off about June/July. It takes up a major portion
of a parking lot at the Royal Show in PMB.
Judge #3 was an inexperienced food critic named Frank, who was visiting from
Frank: 'Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a Curry Cook-off.

The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be
standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Beer Garden
when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges
(Natal Indians) that the curry wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they
told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted'.
Here are the scorecard notes from the event:

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice smooth tomato flavour. Very mild.
Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy XXXX, what the hell is this stuff? You could
remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames
out. I hope that's the worst one. These people are crazy.

Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of chicken. Slight chilli tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm
supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to
give me the Heimlich manoeuvre! They had to rush in more beer when they saw
the look on my face.

Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse curry. Great kick.
Judge # 2 -- A bit salty, good use of chilli peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call 911. I've located a uranium's pill. My nose feels like I
have been snorting Drain Cleaner. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me
more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone
is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting XXXXed from all the beer.

Judge # 1 -- Black bean curry with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or
other mild foods, not much of a curry.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to
taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Shareen, the beer maid, was
standing behind me with fresh refills. That 200kg woman is starting to look
HOT...just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chilli an aphrodisiac?

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong curry. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding
considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Average beef curry, could use more tomato. Must admit the chilli
peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can
no longer focus my eyes. I XXXXed and four people behind me needed
paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chilli
had given me brain damage.
Shareen saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from
the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really XXXXes me off
that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw them.

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety curry. Good balance of spices
and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. I am definitely going to XXXX myself if I XXXX and I'm
worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind
me except that Shareen. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass
with a snow cone ice-cream.

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre curry with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chilli
peppers at the last moment. (I should take note at this stage that I am
worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is
cursing uncontrollably).
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I
wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like
it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with curry, which slid
unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At
least, during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop
breathing- it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If
I need air I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending. This is a nice blend curry. Not too bold
but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced curry. Neither mild nor
hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 XXXXed, passed out,
fell over and pulled the curry pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's
going to make it. Poor man, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot curry?
Judge # 3 - No Report.

Monday, December 7, 2009

The seller has been included with the shipping fee!

Hey guys!
I was trawling Ebay for a kelly green cardigan
today when I found this gem.

Great deal. Special offer. One time only.

The problem is... I've noticed that shipping is FREE.
Now, does this mean I get the seller for free, or does it
mean the seller is not included because there is no fee?

If the latter applies, then I call bullshit.
Way to get my hopes up, false advertising!!!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Words for women to live by

Words for Women to Live By J

1. Aspire to be Barbie - the bitch has everything.

2. If the shoe fits - buy them in every colour.

3. Take life with a pinch of salt... A wedge of lime, and a shot of tequila.

4. In need of a support group? - Cocktail hour with the girls!

5. Go on the 30 day diet. (I'm on it and so far I've lost 15 days).

6. When life gets you down - just put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

7. Let your greatest fear be that there is no PMS and this is just your personality.

8. I know I'm in my own little world, but it's ok. They know me here.

9. Lead me not into temptation, I can find it myself.

10. Don't get your knickers in a knot; it solves nothing and makes you walk funny.

11. When life gives you lemons in 2009 - turn it into lemonade then mix it with vodka.

12. Remember
, wherever there is a good looking, sweet, single or married man there is some woman tired of his bullshit!

13. Keep your chin up, only the first 40 years of parenthood are the hardest.

14. If it has Tyres or Testicles it's gonna give you trouble.

15. By the time a woman realizes her mother was right, she has a daughter who thinks she's wrong.

'Good friends are like stars.........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there' 'Remember yesterday, dream about tomorrow, but live for today'.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


Hi there, all supaheros! 

I have decided to support Movember this year by signing up as an official Mo Sista.   

During Movember (once known as November), men put down their razors for 30 days and grow a moustache with the aim of raising funds and awareness for men’s health – specifically prostate cancer and depression in men. The role of a Mo Sista is to support the Mo Bros in their life – brothers, boyfriends, Dads, uncles, cousins, husbands – and help them to raise funds. 

What many people don’t appreciate is that close to 3,000 men die of prostate cancer each year in Australia and one in eight men will experience depression in their lifetime - many of whom don’t seek help. Facts like these have convinced me I should get involved this year and I am hoping you will support me as I try and raise funds. 

To support me and the Mos in my life, you can either: 

•    Click this link and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account 
•    Write a cheque payable to ‘Movember Foundation’, referencing my Registration Number 123243 and mailing it to: Movember Foundation, PO Box 292, Prahran, VIC, 3181.

Remember, all donations over $2 are tax deductible. 

Movember is now in its sixth year and, to date, has achieved some pretty amazing results by working alongside men’s health partners, The Prostate Cancer Foundation (PCFA) and beyondblue: the national depression initiative. Check out further details at:

To find out more information on Movember, check out

Thank you in advance for supporting my on my Movember journey as a Mo Sista. 

Pamela Andrews

Monday, October 26, 2009

A little wisdom for you

This is a wonderful piece by Michael Gartner, editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing.. It is well worth reading, and a few good chuckles are guaranteed. Here goes...

My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car.

He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.

"In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."

At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:
"Oh, bull----!" she said. "He hit a horse."

"Well," my father said, "there was that, too."

So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbours all had cars -- the Kollingses next door had a green 1941Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth , the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford -- but we had none.

My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines , would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.

My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that.

But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first.

But, sure enough , my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown.

It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car.

Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother.

So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying more than once.

For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps -- though they seldom left the city limits -- and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.

Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage.

(Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.)

He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church.
She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home.

If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church. He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow."

After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored."

If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out -- and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream. As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?"

"I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.

"No left turns," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic.

As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn."

"What?" I said again.

"No left turns," he said... "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights."

"You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support.
"No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works."
But then she added: "Except when your father loses count."

I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing.

"Loses count?" I asked.

"Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again."

I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked.

"No," he said " If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week."
My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving.. That was in 1999, when she was 90.

She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102.

They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom -- the house had never had one.. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.)

He continued to walk daily -- he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising -- and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died.

One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news.

A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer."

"You're probably right," I said.

"Why would you say that?" He countered, somewhat irritated.

"Because you're 102 years old," I said.

"Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day.

That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night.

He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said:
"I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet."

An hour or so later, he spoke his last words:

"I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have."

A short time later, he died.

I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long.

I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life,
Or because he quit taking left turns. "

Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Forget about the one's who don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. & if it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would most likely be worth it."

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Fighting Your Moral Decay With Censordyne

I don't know if you guys know about this, but the Australian Government is spending $44 million on a "safer internet for Australia". They're trying to put into place some great big censorship which will PROTECT the wee babes of Australia from accidentally clicking onto something untoward when their parents aren't supervising their computer time. Yes, that's right. First, they're stupid enough to think that they can censor the internet and that the rest of us won't find some way around it, but secondly, they're dumb enough to spend $44 million creating an "internet filter" which will be rendered ineffective approximately an hour after it's finished, due to the ever-changing nature of the internet. Waaaayyyyyy to go, Australian Government. Of course, being Australians and living in a country that is utterly perfect, we have absolutely no need for that $44 million to be channelled into something useful, like, I don't know... upgrading medical facilities, looking after our elderly, getting kids off the streets, improving education, helping the homeless... We don't have problems like that in Australia, you see, so we have to spend all of our hard-earned dollars on creating a filter for a problem that we don't have.

Sarcasm aside, there's a FANTASTIC website that really puts into words how Australia really feels about the whole debacle. Ladies and Gentleman of the Internet, I give you:


Before we had the internet the world was a peaceful and safe place. Now with the internet it's mean and nasty.

Some sources tell us that the boogy monster actually lives in the internet.

From dentists, to news sources, to private conversations, there is plenty to be scared of online.

But don't worry, here at the Federal Government we have been working hard to protect you from the internet and that's why we've created Censordyne.

The internet is an amazing place. But here at the Federal Government we think it's a little too amazing.

That's why we've developed Censordyne - a mandatory way to censor the internet.

Censordyne lets the Government decide what you can and can't do online. From what you buy to how you communicate and even what you read.

Censordyne, developed in our secret Internet laboratory:

tickOffers protection against fast Internet
tickIs mandatory, for a cleaner feed
tickReduces your democratic protections
tickPretends to fight moral decay

All with a fresh multi-million dollar flavour.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

A rather graphic TV advertisement

Apparently, the British have got the right idea. In the local newspaper at home in Tasmania, they're debating the merits of showing this ad on Tasmanian television. I say DO IT! This ad frightens the willies out of me, and I don't text while driving! The next time you're a passenger in a car and the driver pulls out their phone, demand that they stop the car and let you get out to walk! Tell them that you're not prepared to ride in a car driven by a suicidal maniac.

Ever yours,

Sourced from an email

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to
ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with?

Do you remember when you were a kid; playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in the world did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or faq's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

There is a great need for a sarcasm font.

Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what was going on when I first saw it.

How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text.

Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say"

I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.

I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

Bad decisions make good stories.

Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

"Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this.It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my itunes.

As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat b@stard before dinner.

Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...

I wonder if cops ever get p1ssed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

I think the freezer deserves a light as well.


Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The wonders of the pentatonic scale

Neuroscience and music colliding.

I so want to try this out.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Thursday, July 30, 2009

STFU, I'm Laughing

I have never been quite so entertained in my entire life as I have been this last twenty-four hours, having discovered such gems of websites. Oh my dear lord.

It began with Josh Groban's twitter feed and one of his latest tweets (cos me and Joshie G are "like this"). It was simple. All he did was post a link: Awkward Family Photos Nearly died laughing. Cannot tell you how much time I spent laughing at all the photos. I think it's the denim photos, especially. There's one of a couple looking lovingly and erotically into each other's eyes, and the denim jackets that they're wearing are just revolting. Oh my god, funny.

Then, my brother linked me to this: Passive-Aggressive Notes Holy hell! Hilarious! I mean, there are the normal type (normal type?!) of weird notes, which are badly spelled, not punctuated at all and just plain crazy, but then, there are also passive-aggressive notes from people that you can just tell are normally very reasonable people but have been pushed over the edge. I especially liked the SMS about the alarm clock. That was very clever.

All of these websites tend to link to other websites, of course, and then I discovered these:

STFU, Believers
A collection of screen-shots that people have sent in, where crazy religious believers have plastered their beliefs all over their Facebook posts.

STFU, Marrieds The same thing as above, only with Smug Marrieds (to quote Bridget Jones' Diary), or people who are so smug in their relationships that they may as well be married. Be warned - it's nauseating.

STFU, Parents
The same as above, only with Facebook posts from people who used to be interesting but now have babies and like to update their statuses about their babies' poo.

I feel that these three are a little more genuine than the next two, due to the comma thing.

STFU Jezebel Apparently this blog makes fun of a blog called Jezebel. I have never encountered Jezebel. Am I missing something?

STFU Marrieds With Babies
And this blog... Well, this blog is empty altogether! Sadness...

And this blog's header made me laugh. It's called: STFU, I BLOG ABOUT ANYTHING I WANT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

No, no, thank YOU very much.



Sunday, July 19, 2009

Hammered Dulcimer

I really want to procure a hammered dulcimer and learn to play it, but can't find a single store in Singapore that sells one. Figures.

This woman plays it beautifully.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Derren Brown

Some of you might be familiar with the British illusionist Derren Brown, perhaps because I might have subjected you to youtube videos or articles. He has turned his hand to stunts from psychologically influencing a group of business people to take a toy gun and hold up a bank security van in a street on a whim, to a seance, where you forget he's telling you what utter tosh it is, because you too get wrapped up in the trick. He even went to America, where he was unknown, and tricked alien investigators, psychics, and religious groups. Its all fairly intellectual with a slant of humour, and he's easy on the eye to look at.

After discovering my boss was almost equally fanatical about the man, we have also subjected colleagues to the amusement of his blog (in a similar way to Team Supahero, it is blogged by a team of people including Brown). One of his more amusing posts of late was a video from his dressing room. A proud owner of the Iphone and an mac air, he also, as you will find, does a mean impression of Stewie from family guy while in the fridge...

His Blog
Art site - he paints very individual portraits

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Little Boots

May I share my listening choice of the moment, UK artist Little Boots.

Little Boots on

She has, regrettably, been one of those artists that has penetrated the subconscious through media promotion, rather than a lady I've stumbled across. Yey for her promoters, but I must admit I do like discovering musicians through other means, as it tends to feel a lot more satisfying.

Still, that fact is nothing to take away from Little Boots who has written some much more wholesome and interesting melodies and lyrics than Lady GaGa and her bloody Poker Face.

Mathematics is a difficult thing
I never understood what was the missing link
And by the time I calculated the correct solution
The question had escaped me and so did the conclusion

So tell me everything must always equal two
Or nothing else is true
And I'll believe you
Cos your X is equal to my Y
But equations pass me by

So will you take just a little of my mind and subtract it from my soul
Add a fraction of your half and you'll see it makes me whole
Multiply it by the times that we've never been apart
You'll see nothing can divide just a heart plus a heart

A little of my mind
Take it from my soul
A fraction of your half
See it makes me whole
And multiply the times
Never be apart
Cos nothing can divide a heart plus a heart

Don't know my Fibonacci or Pythagoras
But the only formula I know will work for us is that
When we're together in the sum of our parts
It's far greater than what we added up to at the start

So tell me everything must always equal two
Or nothing else is true
And I'll believe you
Cos your X is equal to my Y
But equations pass me by

So will you take just a little of my mind and subtract it from my soul
Add a fraction of your half and you'll see it makes me whole
Multiply it by the times that we've never been apart
You'll see nothing can divide just a heart plus a heart

A little of my mind
Take it from my soul
A fraction of your half
See it makes me whole
And multiply the times
Never be apart
Cos nothing can divide a heart plus a heart

A heart plus a heart

Take just a little of my mind and subtract it from my soul
Add a fraction of your half and you'll see it makes me whole
Multiply it by the times that we've never been apart
You'll see nothing can divide just a heart plus a heart

A little of my mind
Take it from my soul
A fraction of your half
See it makes me whole
And multiply the times
Never be apart
Cos nothing can divide a heart plus a heart

Monday, June 22, 2009

Buffy vs. Edward Cullen

Okay, as a Buffy fan, this amuses me to NO end. Zomg.


Sunday, June 21, 2009

Harry Potter The (Unofficial, Not-For-Profit) Musical

I really shouldn't be enjoying this ... but I am. I'm only up to Act 1 Part 4, and it is hilarious. Cleverly written, brilliant characters, and "awesome" songs.

Harry Potter The Musical Act One Part One

I would have posted the video, but:
1) I don't know how coz I've never tried; and
2) I don't have a YouTube account because technically I'm not supposed to watch YouTube videos at home because our monthly download allowance doesn't stretch far enough between six people and six computers.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Belgian Teen Sues Over 56 Star Tattoos On Face

A Belgian teenager has been left with 56 stars inked on her face after allegedly falling asleep in a tattoo artist's chair.

Kimberley Vlaminck, 18, claims her father paid for her to receive three stars near her left eye.

But the teen says she fell asleep while her dad ate ice cream outside, before awakening to discover half her face covered in 56 black stars.

"My father wanted to pay because in our family everyone has a tattoo," the Telegraph reported Ms Vlaminck as saying.

"When he started to tattoo me, I did not feel pain and I fell asleep. I awoke as he tattooed me on the nose and I saw what he had done.

"I cannot go out on to the street, I am so embarrassed … I just look ugly, a freak, mutilated."

The family is seeking $18,400 in damages to pay for laser removal of the "nightmare" inking.

But Rouslan Toumaniantz, who operates The Tattoo Box in the southeast city of Courtrai, claims he was only fulfilling his client's wishes and is demanding payment of $87 for the work.

"She was awake all the time," he said.

"I did not hypnotise or dope her, as they say — it was with agreement.

"No way could I have tattooed so many stars on her face against her will."

The artist said there was only conflict once Ms Vlaminck's shocked father saw the full extent of the tattoos that his daughter had requested.


Saturday, June 13, 2009

Creepy But Cool #1

Chinese Giant Salamander

Angler Fish

Angler Fish



Look at those eggs... And the tiny, tiny Betic Midwife Toad that laid them.


Cane Toad

Darwin Frog

Giant Squids

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Hipster Olympics

A gift from Natalie and I. Because hobos are the new unicorns.


Greetings from web company land. Want to see a novel way of using youtube? Why not put your whole website on it. Yes, host it on youtube.

Don't believe me?

Creative media agency Boone Oakley have their whole site as videos on youtube. To add to this rather inventive presentation, they also have quite a humourous presentation of their creative talent, even if I haven't a clue what "The One" show is. (In the UK, "The One Show" is a weekday television programme on live at 7pm, by the BBC covering topical issues!)

I do wonder if the site will survive or die to internet hype....

Monday, June 8, 2009

Abandonned Places

There's a lovely little community on livejournal that I flicked through about five months ago when they were on spotlight. However, I remembered these photos later when a colleague was talking about a music video he made when he was a DJ. It was in an abandoned mental hospital and had some creepy interesting things there.

Anyhow, the photos that I recalled were these ones, for a Russian hospital.


(link updated 16 June 2009 19:17 GMT. I missed off the l from html)

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Spam/junk mail

My friend Nick over here (currently offline - he's rebuilding it - bloody web designers) made me laugh recently when he responded to a few spam emails that he'd received recently, in which the sender promised him millions of dollars if they could only borrow his bank account for a little while. Well, I decided to keep track of my spam emails for a week or so and see what arrived. Unfortunately, nothing too interesting arrived (except for hundreds from an application on Facebook called "SpeedDate" - I don't EVER remember adding THAT), but these following emailers obviously have their hearts in the right place:

From: Roddy Larson
Subject: 1 week - 2 kilos off
Content: You'll tap any woman you want [link]

From: Minna Cardenas
Subject: Powerful growth formula
Content: Deeper penetration possible! [link]

From: Theodora Locke
Subject: Where her happiness lies
Content: You can notice: gray hair, wrinkles on your forehead, glasses for reading, the worst thing is ED! [link]

From: Desmond Robertson
Subject: The best thing is your wonderful drilling mastery in an hour after taking!
Content: New discounted pilules everyday. [link]

From: Joseph Roach
Subject: Get smashing love power
Content: Make your volcano erupt more lava [link]

Hilarious to me.

What I want to know is - what's E.D.?

Saturday, June 6, 2009


Imagine driving along the road, minding your own business, when this happens...

Monday, June 1, 2009

For Every Harry Potter Wannabe

Rather than post something truly geeky like Google Wave or the Tea Flash Game I found at work while we were looking for something today, I figured a more lighthearted but rather excellent flash game called Witches Brew was far more the cup of tea!

I started laughing when I realised how to do the fish bones in the last part, but I did get accusations that I was abusing a cat for the noise.

Witches' Brew

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Cam Gigandet vs. Twilight Fans

Okay, so I found this just as I was running out the house, and practically ruined my makeup laughing so hard. It's not only funny in a normal Cam Gigandet vs. Twilighters way, but also on another level for some obvious reasons.

Watch and enjoy!


New Moon

So, the other day, B accompanied me to a casting I had, and as we were wandering around, trying to find the production company, we passed an umbrella advertising everyone's favourite book of all time (not).

In case you were wondering, New Moon is actually a huge company that produces tinned abalone, amongst other canned goods and sauces.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Internet-Age Writing Syllabus and Course Overview

Just found a very amusing article to read that I thought you'd all enjoy. The link is here. And here's a taster, if you're not convinced by my taste in humour:


Students must have completed at least two of the following.

ENG: 232WR—Advanced Tweeting: The Elements of Droll
LIT: 223—Early-21st-Century Literature: 140 Characters or Less
ENG: 102—Staring Blankly at Handheld Devices While Others Are Talking
ENG: 301—Advanced Blog and Book Skimming
ENG: 231WR—Facebook Wall Alliteration and Assonance
LIT: 202—The Literary Merits of Lolcats
LIT: 209—Internet-Age Surrealistic Narcissism and Self-Absorption

Required Reading Materials

Literary works, including the online table of contents of the Huffington Post's Complete Guide to Blogging, will serve as models to be skimmed for thorough analysis. Also, Perez Hilton's Twitter feed.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Tree Houses

When I was a kid, I wanted a tree house more than most things in the world. Back then, in my flights of fancy, my tree house resembled the ones in Enid Blyton novels or the ultra-girly one in the film, Now And Then, that Samantha, Teeny, Roberta and Chrissy spent all summer saving up for. I never had a giant tree in my garden so this desire remained little more than a pipe dream.

Recently, while surfing the internet, I discovered tree houses that made my fantasy tree house look like it belonged in a tree ghetto.



Sunday, May 10, 2009


I misguidedly, attempted to learn beatboxing last year. I failed quite soon, but I will prevail, as its nice to have something to surprise people with.

Anyhow, I am always in awe of people who can make amazingly realistic noises with their mouths and voices. Just like ventriloquists and impressionists. So here's one I recently was shared.


Jack Winter, Shouts & Murmurs, “How I Met My Wife,” The New Yorker, July 25, 1994, p. 82
Read the full text of this article. (Registration required.)
July 25, 1994 Issue

English Language;
How I Met My Wife;

ABSTRACT: SHOUTS AND MURMURS about man who describes meeting his wife at a party. In his description, he drops many prefixes. It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant, despite my efforts to appear gruntled and consolate. I was furling my wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing alone in a corner. She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total array. Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled, and she moved in a gainly way. I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I'd have to make bones about it, since I was travelling cognito. Beknownst to me, the hostess, whom I could see both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be skin off my nose if anything bad happened. And even though I had only swerving loyalty to her, my manners couldn't be peccable. Only toward and heard-of behavior would do. Fortunately, the embarrassment that my maculate appearance might cause was evitable. There were two ways about it, but the chances that someone as flappable as I would be ept enough to become persona grata or sung hero were slim. I was, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused bridled passion. So I decided not to rush it. But then, all at once, for some apparent reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I could make heads or tails of. So, after a terminable delay, I acted with mitigated gall and made my way through the ruly crowd with strong givings. Nevertheless, since this was all new hat to me and I had no time to prepare a promptu speech, I was petuous. She responded well, and I was mayed that she considered me a savory char- acter who was up to some good. She told me who she was. "What a perfect nomer," I said, advertently. The conversation became more and more choate, and we spoke at length to much avail. But I was defatigable, so I had to leave at a godly hour. I asked if she wanted to come with me. To my delight, she was committal. We left the party together and have been together ever since. I have given her my love, and she has requited it.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

The Better Twilight Movie

If 'Twilight' Was 10 Times Shorter And 100 Times More Honest

Definitely worth the read. After suffering through the Twilight movie for a second time recently, reading this somehow made it more bearable.


My new celebrity Z-list crush

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Tim Minchin's poem Storm

Its worth the nine minute listen.


Tuesday, May 5, 2009


Animals Pt. 1