MONKEYS!

BONOBOS!

BABOONS!

SPIDER MONKEYS!

GIBBONS!

SIAMANGS!

CHIMPANZEES!

GORILLAS!

HOWLER MONKEYS!

This is about conquering fears, people.
Believe it or not, monkeys actually scare the fucking shit out of me.

The Real Meaning of Real Estate, by Hans of Hans und Klaus

"Character Space" - This one is often seen in historic buildings or houses. The name brings up imagery of a colourful "arty" sophisticated, classic chic living or working space. In reality, Character Space is a euphemism for "Shithole." Some concepts I associate with Character Space are:
-Old World Class: no hot water or insulation
-Natural Indoor-Outdoor Flow: Leaky walls and ceiling - prepare your buckets
-Refurbished: the mold and mildew, cracks in walls, and spiders' webs were painted over
-Homely: not designed for a population of normal sized humans. More designed for a population of pygmies; possibly morlocks.

Count on it, whatever can go wrong in a property there's a euphemism to sell it. To make you want it that way. And such euphemism-swathed properties are never hard to find. So what do you do? You, poor, beguiled consumer, fall for a homely refurbished Art Deco character space with old world class, natural indoor-outdoor flow that's a real fixer-upper. Yes, that's real customer power right there.

Adventures II: Time Travel Edition

You are a sandwich in a boat floating down a river in Venice. It is 1776 and in your possession is a pen and a trophy for Best Topiary Sculpture that you won when you were a hedge-clipping robot in the year 2586. As you go through the tunnel you consider what it would have been like to be a keyboard in the 1980s that has an affinity with carrier pigeons. However, when you emerge from the tunnel, it is 1992 and you are a skateboard with the ability to smell things from a very long distance. This is somewhat inconvenient for you as you have been well used and smell a bit like dog crap, old chewing gum, tequila and breastmilk. As you slowly transform into a magnifying glass with a penchant for pottery, you realise that you still have a wheel attached. Thankfully it is the one with tequila on it. You have gone from having a superior sense of smell to superior vision, and you can see that you are now in the year 1962 and you are being used by a DeadHead to see the lice in a fellow DeadHead's hair. The sight of this lice (and the music in the background) repulses you and you spontaneously morph into Michael Jackson's nose circa 2002. You've fallen off twice and damnit you're going to succeed again. The moment for your claim to fame has come. He is emerging from the hotel room. He is approaching the balcony. Now is your moment. You are about to fall into the arms of your adoring public but WAIT. He has unravelled the child from the blanket and is dangling it from the railing. That wasn't part of the plan - that wasn't part. Your moment of fame, so fleeting and perfectly timed, has been stolen by this flailing infant. You can only do one thing. You do what you always do. You malfunction and cause excessive mucous to run down Michael Jackson's face, making it appear shiny and viscous in tomorrow's papers.

Family: A contribution by Hans of Hans und Klaus.

Family holiday = a trip to someplace an hour out of town for bland as fuck "activities"

Family fun = boring as shit

Family orientated = fun if you are two years old

Family values = hypocritical crock of bullshit and backwards conservativist uptight prickishness

Family restaurant = a place filled with children screaming and running around and vomiting and priggish complacent parents

Family pass = don't go anywhere that offers them because that means there will be annoying kids

Family planning = good fucking idea

So I love Bill Bailey.

Quite intensely. And I just saw a Kinder Surprise ad, and I just had to post this. No: I was INSPIRED to post this. Yes.

Bill Bailey on Kinder Surprise eggs:

"I'm English, and as such I crave disappointment. That's why I buy Kinder Surprise. Horrible chocolate; nasty little toy: a double-whammy of disillusionment! Sometimes I eat the toy out of sheer despair. I call them the Eggs Of Numbing Inevitability. And when I buy them, I always ask for them in the third person: "Bill Bailey would like the Eggs Of Numbing Inevitability." I did that the other day and it answered me back, and he said to me: "No, I am Bill Bailey. You are not Bill Bailey, you are just a mere doppelgänger. I am the true Bill Bailey, in another dimension." And I went, "Oh, I hadn't planned on that." Then I thought the only way to solve this, I have to run at my doppelgänger, then we will be fused forever. So I ran full-tilt at it, and just before I got there I realised it was the highly polished side of the cheese counter."

Inspiration?

Okay. I've decided that the next topic I will write about will be Courtney Love. I don't know why I never thought to write about her before.

Corey & Corey.

The Smiths. Morrissey. Seagulls. Bill Bailey. Segway Gimp. Goths. The Hoff. Mr. T. The hose. Cicadas. Spicy fruit loaf. Gottis & guidos. Ashwin. Wistful Melancholy. Batman & Robin. Bob Saget. Owls. Corey Haim. Corey Feldman. Vampire Freaks. The goggles that do nothing. Curlews. The Lollersaur. Vikings. Lolcats. Wololworths, Cuntdown, Panksave & Foddertwon. Corngate. The Magic Roundabout of Doom. Kim Jong Il. The Jed Story. Gimps. Fiery passionfruit. Rodney Hide. The Village People. Ashcoat. Michael Jackson. Monkeys. The Pitch. Typos. Hannibal Lecter. Saying lol at inappropriate moments. Keeping each other sane.

Ah, these minstrels will soothe my jangled nerves.

Uh. So, I need something to write about. I am itching to write. I can only think of one thing right now but it's personal and inappropriate for this blog. I hope to write a story about it one day though? It's very much the feel-good story of the year.

It would probably be inappropriate for my livejournal too since that also only exists for one specific purpose. I like to have separate places for all my separate brain malfunctions.

I see so many things every day that I could write about, but somehow I forget about them. I think I will make a habit of writing topics down in my notebook.

Sometimes I want to write about bad writing. If that makes sense. Like when I see a blog by someone who proclaims that they are a great writer and then I spot a bunch of grammatical or spelling errors...maybe I'm the only one who finds this kind of stuff hilarious. But that's okay, this blog is for me and the people who understand me. Lol.

Oh dear, I am supposed to be reading Dracula right now. Maybe I will pick out certain details that I find interesting and/or hilarious and write a blog about it. There will definitely be a section on how shit Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula movie is.

I want each post in this blog to be perfectly crafted, like a work of art. I'd like them to all be quite different to each other as well. I'd like to discuss the sexualisation of food, the adult psychological obsession with childhood, gender difference, the joys of unemployment, The Simpsons...and maybe some reviews and crap. Of course, I will continue to write about Batman, Robin and the Coreys, provided I am inspired well enough.

Michael Jackson news!

I got my wish. Kind of.

Report: Jackson battling serious staph infection

British newspaper says singer contracted MRSA-like ailment after surgery

Michael Jackson is being treated for a staph infection that has spread throughout his face and body, according to the Sun newspaper. A report in the British newspaper says the 50-year-old singer is receiving intravenous antibiotics to try and halt the spread.

A source told the Sun that it is a “MRSA-style infection” that is resistant to conventional antibiotics. The Sun reported that Jackson contracted the infection following reconstructive surgery on his nose.

The Times of London reported that the skin on Jackson's face and hands appeared inflamed in photos taken recently of the singer as he left a Los Angeles-area clinic.

In December, biographer Ian Halperin told a British newspaper that Jackson was suffering from Alpha 1-antitrypsin deficiency and was in need of a lung transplant. Jackson's “official and sole spokesperson, Dr. Tohme Tohme” denied the report, saying in a statement, “The writer’s wild allegations concerning Mr. Jackson’s health are a total fabrication. Mr. Jackson is in fine health.”

The Times was unable to reach Jackson's spokesman for comment.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29186639/?GT1=43001

That's all well and good, but I wish he'd embarrassed himself somehow instead.

Oh well. We'll all be sorry when he dies.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

Hero/Heroine Worship.

How come it took me this long to realise that I'm obsessed with monkeys?

Koons, 1988

What the fuck is Michael Jackson up to these days? I want more news about Michael Jackson. I demand it. I demand that he draw attention to himself by doing something retarded once again. He's just some infamous nobody at the moment. I wonder what kids these days think of him. Is he like the boogie man to them or something? I mean. He kind of is, literally. He boogies. And he is a man. Apparently.

Come on MJ. You are holding out on us.

Anyway here's some other shit I feel like posting.



Parekowhai, 2006

Adventures II: Time Travel Edition

You are a sandwich in a boat floating down a river in Venice. It is 1776 and in your possession is a pen and a trophy for Best Topiary Sculpture that you won when you were a hedge-clipping robot in the year 2586. As you go through the tunnel you consider what it would have been like to be a keyboard in the 1980s that has an affinity with carrier pigeons. However, when you emerge from the tunnel, it is 1992 and you are a skateboard with the ability to smell things from a very long distance. This is somewhat inconvenient for you as you have been well used and smell a bit like dog crap, old chewing gum, tequila and breastmilk. As you slowly transform into a magnifying glass with a penchant for pottery, you realise that you still have a wheel attached. Thankfully it is the one with tequila on it. You have gone from having a superior sense of smell to superior vision, and you can see that you are now in the year 1962 and you are being used by a DeadHead to see the lice in a fellow DeadHead's hair. The sight of this lice (and the music in the background) repulses you and you spontaneously morph into Michael Jackson's nose circa 2002. You've fallen off twice and damnit you're going to succeed again. The moment for your claim to fame has come. He is emerging from the hotel room. He is approaching the balcony. Now is your moment. You are about to fall into the arms of your adoring public but WAIT. He has unravelled the child from the blanket and is dangling it from the railing. That wasn't part of the plan - that wasn't part. Your moment of fame, so fleeting and perfectly timed, has been stolen by this flailing infant. You can only do one thing. You do what you always do. You malfunction and cause excessive mucous to run down Michael Jackson's face, making it appear shiny and viscous in tomorrow's papers.

You Deserve an Adventure.

So imagine that you are a crossword who likes skydiving and Mexican food. You have a penchant for ink cartridges and a talent for performance art. However, you are placed in a recycle bin and through this process you become an envelope about to embark upon the Tour de France. Later on in life you become a discarded bookmark whose favourite colour is dark purple with a hint of red. You are good at fencing and enjoy writing messages in the sand. You are left by a river one day and become an empty bottle of methylated spirits who used to belong to a drunk with Lyme Disease, but those days are long gone. At one point in time you were the Lyme Disease that the drunk contracted. You were spread by ticks and made up of malignant spirochaetes. However, one day, while on the drunk's lips, you leapt onto the bottle of methylated spirits and decided you rather liked it, so you became the bottle. After floating down the river for several days, thinking about how you'd really like to become an architect, you end up on the riverbank where you become a plum that has just fallen from a tree. You enjoy Slinkies and skateboarding, but you don't like taps or the moon. Later on today you will be pecked at by a sparrow who never misses an episode of Law & Order. By the time this happens, however, you will be a line on a piece of paper whose favourite band is Cannibal Corpse. The paper you are on used to be a pine tree. It almost became a Christmas tree but because it was an Atheist, it was turned into paper. You, the line, are not an Atheist, but a lapsed Catholic. You heavily resent your Catholic upbringing, hence your interest in death metal bands. You don't have to worry about this psychological torment for much longer though, because you are now a fork who likes laundry baskets and things that are square. You prefer liquid soap as opposed to bar soap, which tends to get stuck in your prongs. You are quite whimsical by nature, and your favourite song is "The Spanish Flea." You frequently scar children for life. This is not a problem, however, because you are now a piece of gum with the powers of clairvoyancy. You foresee a day where you become a haemorrhoid tablet who likes Burger King and white water rafting. While white water rafting one day you encounter a tapeworm who is completely smitten by you. You have a short-lived relationship, however, because when you become a piece of tape who enjoys long walks on the beach and Denny's, the tapeworm falls out of love with you and moves on to another haemorrhoid tablet. You do not despair for long, however, because as a piece of tape your options are endless. While at Denny's one day, you decide that you want to live in a booth. This is the site of one of your last transformations. You become a bobby pin who loves the smell of black vivid markers and Hitler. However, you suffer from irritable bowel syndrome and die of food poisoning when you eat a Super Bird Sandwich one day. Because you were Hindu, you are reincarnated as a pen whose leisure activities involve tennis, photography, and filling in crosswords. Your favourite TV show is Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When it finished, you were unable to cope and went into a deep depression. However, this was resolved when you became a bowl of vegetable korma. As you are being digested, you consider holidaying in Italy - but then you run into the tapeworm you once had a relationship with. Unable to deal with this tension, you cause the body to spontaneously combust and you end up on the ceiling of a chapel in Vegas. You fall, eventually, and when you land you are a penny. Sadly, you are almost worthless and you remain on the ground for several days, until you are vacuumed up by the janitor. You greatly enjoy this and become a daredevil penny. Soon you are famous within the coin community and get your own TV show. However, you become bored with being a famous penny, and unable to imagine another transformation, you wake up and continue to go about your daily business.

O hai.

Wow. It's been a very long time since I made an entry. I've been busy. But I'm sure something retarded will inspire me soon.

I mean, I have some stuff in the pipeline. Such as Robin: The Gimpening. Which is sort of a prequel to our other Batman work. So it's not all hopeless. Or is it? Only time will tell.

PS: We got surgeonmonkey.

Surgeonmonkey

We will have him. Oh yes we will. Surgeonmonkey will be ours.

If you would like to contribute to the Surgeonmonkey fund, please contact me by leaving your credit card details in a comment.

Thank you.



Disclaimer: Picture is not of the actual surgeonmonkey. It's just the closest thing I could find. Thanks again for almost nothing, google images.

Band Predictions for 2009

The bands I think are going to make it big next year:

Flippu - Healing, Acapella & Easy Listening

Made up of the two Coreys (Feldman & Haim), Flippu is a remarkable band who are releasing their first album on August 31st, 2008. This will surely be an epic debut.
How to put their music into words? Well, I believe they do it best themselves, on their website -
www.myspace.com/flippu. Be sure to check out my personal favourite, The Magic Roundabout of Doom, but don't forget about Margaret Thatcher and Curlews. Their album, Epic Wind Or Hail, will be in stores in September.

Coveted By Apes - Folk Metal

Coveted By Apes should please the ears of any listener, whether they are 3 or 91. Their first album, Not Without My Bike, features the songs Gimp Without a Bike, You Are Epic Fail, Faux Germanic, Haast, Mr. T Will Eat Your Soul, Gestalt, You Smell Like Fail, and Beast Cometh. All of these songs are a joy to the ears - their unique brand of folk metal is best listened to after a hard day at the office. It will be released in January 2009 to a salivating audience desperate to satiate their demonic needs.

Immediate Grape Reward - Indie

Immediate Grape Reward are quite possibly the greatest band since The Beatles. I really cannot put into words how epically awesome they are. Of course they are still pretty underground, but keep your ears and eyes out for the songs Lavender Washing Powder and Cinnamon Buns & Tea, which are particularly beautiful. Their fashion sense is also epically great - you will know who they are because they always wear very interesting clothes, all of which deliberately clash and look like they were recovered from a skip or an Op Shop. Their EP, Sparrows, Squirrels & Teapots, will be released on Skinny Jeans records in December 2008.

I will be posting the album covers later so you know what to look for in record stores!

Gay Coffee

Gay coffee is a cultural phenomenon that I have recently become aware of. I have a friend, well. And he was really excited about going to "gay coffee". Wait, what did you say? Gay coffee? How can coffee be gay? WELL...

The Six Steps of Gay Coffee:

1. The beans are picked from male coffee plants that have been cross pollinated, picked, roasted, packed, and shipped by gay males.

2. The milk is extracted from lesbian cows who have been fathered by a bull that showed extreme sexual interest in other bulls. They are milked by gay dairy men who work in the nude, and shower together after a shift. The milk is processed and shipped by gay males.

3. The sugar is grown on a plantation owned by a big southern gay, and worked by other southern gays. It gets shipped by more southern gays, and they are southern gay.

4. The owners, builders, staff, and customers of the café where GAY COFFEE is held are all exclusively 100% gay. The café is in a gay community, is promoted in gay media, and is advertised 'by word of mouth' by gay males.

5. ???

6. GAY PROFIT!



Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.

Sweedos: The Latest Phenomenon in Heinous Fashion

So apparently I missed a trick. The latest retardery is going on in Sweden:

Shiny Oompa-Loompas ftw.

I wonder if that's his sex face? I mean, the expression seems to be permanently fixed. Maybe someone lost something up his ass.

Well, clearly women's clothes rule. Good for accentuating big hard man tits. Maybe he looks like that because he can't breathe?

Is it wrong that I kind of fancy the one with cat shit all over his face? I mean. It's so obvious that he ass-rapes the other two for failing so badly at hotness.

That little gimpy guy has the same facial expression in every pic. Someone needs to tell him that staring off into the distance doesn't make you look hot and intense, it makes you look like a vacuous moron.

Unfortunately they haven't hit the internet in full force so I can't entertain you with more pictures of these fools.

However. They're not as faux-manly and heavy on the fake tan as gotti guidos are, but Sweedo hair is worse than Guido hair. Sad but true.

The verdict: Sweedos>Guidos. America fucks up again.

I close my Guido/Sweedo chapter with this. A brief look at the past, to remind us that we need never go there again.
Or at the very least, a reminder to never copy the fashions of purposely silly-looking midgets.