There are several rumours circulating at the moment concerning Justin Bieber and his supposed love child with Mariah Yeater... all of which are incredibly disinteresting, mainly because he is an annoying douche and she is a whiny gold-digger. The purpose of this blog post is not to reveal to you the SHOCKING TRUTH that it is, in fact, Kim Kardashian carrying his unholy spawn or that Britany Spears is actually a zombie, or even that Kim Kardashian's ass has been enhanced using butt implants (made from endangered albino rhinos), but rather criticise and humiliate. If you have found this blog because you have googled "Kim Kardashian's ass", "Justin Bieber love child", or "Britany Spears zombie", then you need to get a life. Do something worthwhile with your pointless existence other than wasting it fawning over talentless 'celebrities'! By the way I use the word 'celebrities' here very liberally here... very, very liberally...
Now get back to work, you bums! Either that or log back on to Facebook and 'Like' something...
Monday 7 November 2011
Thursday 3 November 2011
Beware the Timewaster...
I was walking down an average road – in my typical awesome fashion – the other day when, much to my surprise, I was unexpectingly stopped. My forward trajectory was ceased by what appeared to be a particularly scruffy vagabond whose only possession was a stench so foul that my olfaction organ desperately desired the appendages necessary to end its life. “Change?” the vagrant enquired on a breath so strong that I considered the possibility that by merely smelling it one could become intoxicated. “In your case I would certainly recommend change! To start with I would suggest a shower or some other mechanism designed to alleviate that ungodly odour...” With that sharp rebuke I was hastily on my way, not wishing to engage the man in any further conversation and wanting nothing more than to bury my head in the nearest trashcan to alleviate my nose’s suffering.
As I briskly – and awesomely – marched off I found that I was, to my horror, stopped again. This time the perpetrator of the heinous crime of wasting my ultra-valuable (and handsome) time was some left-wing liberal nut-bag with some variety of sharp, woodcutting implement to grind. From beneath his wild beard the man muttered in a voice fuelled by moral outrage and an unjustified sense of moral superiority “How can you not help a fellow brother in need, man? We’re all just trying to survive in this crazy world, man, we got to, like, help each other out, you dig?”
“I most certainly do not dig!” I responded angrily, “If I wished for a landscape inversion (i.e. hole) to occur I would hire a terra firma readjustment consultant (i.e. Gardner) to facilitate the aforementioned project!” Unfortunately for the grungy hippy my rant was yet to conclude. “How dare you imply that I do nothing to help my fellow man? I aid all people by simply existing, so that they might know what true awesomeness is! Why, you yourself have received the extreme honour of being on the receiving end of one of my rants! Surely this moment, right now, will be the highlight of your dull, pointless life. On your headstone it will read: ‘Smelly Pothead – He lived, got backed, and spent a few minutes in the same spatial topography as the great Dr Awesome.’ It is because of you, and people like you, that good, honest, hard working Australians have to endure the horror that is Bob Brown!” After that apt jab at the contemporary political landscape I made good my escape.
With hurried steps I continued down the road. Weary of the old adage that negative incidence generally manifest in a series of three occurrences I quickened my heels, desperate to be free of this apparent social melting pot of poor people and liberals inclined towards social reform <cold shiver>. Looking over my shoulder, I failed to pay due attention to objects located within the physical space which I had hoped to occupy in the immediate future as I transitioned myself forward in the previously mentioned accelerated fashion. In doing so I noticed the third obstacle on my pathway to freedom too late. They were on me, there was no escape! They were going to stop me and engage me in tedious conversation which I was not remotely interested in! Reacting on a purely primal level, with the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis evoking the ancient fight-or-flight response, I rained a series of blows down on the would-be timewaster with my Umbrella of Justice. With a mighty leap I cleared the unconscious simpleton and bravely ran away. I looked back only to confirm that the rest of the girl scouts were not chasing me. Thankfully they were occupied with tending to their fallen comrade. Once again I had saved myself from despair... and high fat snacks...
As I briskly – and awesomely – marched off I found that I was, to my horror, stopped again. This time the perpetrator of the heinous crime of wasting my ultra-valuable (and handsome) time was some left-wing liberal nut-bag with some variety of sharp, woodcutting implement to grind. From beneath his wild beard the man muttered in a voice fuelled by moral outrage and an unjustified sense of moral superiority “How can you not help a fellow brother in need, man? We’re all just trying to survive in this crazy world, man, we got to, like, help each other out, you dig?”
“I most certainly do not dig!” I responded angrily, “If I wished for a landscape inversion (i.e. hole) to occur I would hire a terra firma readjustment consultant (i.e. Gardner) to facilitate the aforementioned project!” Unfortunately for the grungy hippy my rant was yet to conclude. “How dare you imply that I do nothing to help my fellow man? I aid all people by simply existing, so that they might know what true awesomeness is! Why, you yourself have received the extreme honour of being on the receiving end of one of my rants! Surely this moment, right now, will be the highlight of your dull, pointless life. On your headstone it will read: ‘Smelly Pothead – He lived, got backed, and spent a few minutes in the same spatial topography as the great Dr Awesome.’ It is because of you, and people like you, that good, honest, hard working Australians have to endure the horror that is Bob Brown!” After that apt jab at the contemporary political landscape I made good my escape.
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| Behold my Umbrella of Justice! |
With hurried steps I continued down the road. Weary of the old adage that negative incidence generally manifest in a series of three occurrences I quickened my heels, desperate to be free of this apparent social melting pot of poor people and liberals inclined towards social reform <cold shiver>. Looking over my shoulder, I failed to pay due attention to objects located within the physical space which I had hoped to occupy in the immediate future as I transitioned myself forward in the previously mentioned accelerated fashion. In doing so I noticed the third obstacle on my pathway to freedom too late. They were on me, there was no escape! They were going to stop me and engage me in tedious conversation which I was not remotely interested in! Reacting on a purely primal level, with the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis evoking the ancient fight-or-flight response, I rained a series of blows down on the would-be timewaster with my Umbrella of Justice. With a mighty leap I cleared the unconscious simpleton and bravely ran away. I looked back only to confirm that the rest of the girl scouts were not chasing me. Thankfully they were occupied with tending to their fallen comrade. Once again I had saved myself from despair... and high fat snacks...
Thursday 20 October 2011
BREAKING NEWS: Chickens are smarter than humans
I know you’re probably still reeling from the profound truth outlined in the titled, so I will give you a moment to catch your breath. Sit down, have a cup of tea and take a deep breath... and if you did do all of that, there is a good chance you are dead right now. If you’re not dead then quickly go and lock all the doors/windows/secret entrances to your lair then make a tinfoil hat and put it on before reading on.
Have you done all that? Good, then we can continue on uninterrupted.
There is a good chance that those who were reading this and who were complacent enough to stop for relaxation and refreshing beverages are dead, victims of the chicken uprising which is unfolding as you read the very text that I have been writing at some point... Research has proven – and I mean DEFINITIVELY proven, unlike that global warming mumbo-jumbo – that chickens are indeed smarter than humans. A shocking, explosive, tasty reality which we must confront if we wish to survive. Now that the chickens have been exposed as the genius future overlords of humanity, their sinister plot will surely unfold faster then we mere humans could possibly respond. Humanity could be wiped out over night by this delicious threat unless we respond with due haste... Below I have outlined an easy to use, step by step guide on how to survive the great feathered menace:
Step 1. Chicken proof your home: Chickens cannot peck your eyes out and enslave your family if they can’t get to you, so the first step you should take is to chicken proof your home. Close all entrances and board up windows (chickens lack the opposable digits required to operate a door handle, meaning they are likely to command the low ranking amongst them to selflessly throw themselves through your glass windows, etc., in order to gain entry...). If you have chicken wire lying about (as I’m sure most of you do...), now is the time to use it.
Step 2. Relocation: Ensconced within your fortified chicken proof bunker, it is time to consider your next move. While it may be safe for the moment, there will come a time when you will run out of food, water, and board games to keep you sane (the World Health Organisation recommends that you only play Monopoly no more than once a week, any more can trigger a psychotic episode known as MIP [Monopoly Induced Psychosis]; also know as Mono-Rage and Parker Brothers’ Syndrome). Relocation will be your only salvation, but you will need to know where to go and how to get there undetected.
By now the chickens have, undoubtedly, crushed any human resistance and are beginning the process of enslaving humanity. Unfortunately for you, this also means that they have tasted human flesh and developed a taste for its deliciousness. As you move about chicken occupied territory, you are going to want to mask your tantalisingly tasty aroma. I recommend rubbing chicken stock all over your body. That will throw the chickens off your alluring human scent... A chicken free location is going to be hard to find, as they will spread quickly and ruthlessly across the land. However there are two potential localities which may offer safe haven. The first is chicken free islands (try the Canary Islands; chickens and canaries have a long history of antagonism and you may be able to enlist the canaries as allies in our struggle against our mutual, and flavoursome, adversary...). Chickens can neither fly nor operate a speed boat – well, they can, just not particularly well – making these territories far more difficult for them to conquer. The second is the polar ice caps. Having heard stories of how humans would pluck and freeze their fallen ancestors, it is unlikely the chicken overlords would be keen to visit the Polar Regions... plus I don’t think that they would be able to find snow gear that would fit them...
Step 3. The Fight Back: If we humans are good at anything it is wiping out entire species. We did it during the great Dodo Uprising of 1755, we can do it again. Start small, gather as many family and friends as you can with whatever weapons you can find. Use abandoned KFC outlets as outposts (they are already feared by the chickens who view them as a symbol of their oppression... plus they will be equipped with everything needed to deep fry any chickens that have crossed your path). Slowly but surely humanity will fight back and regain the world from these murderous birds...
So what is the motivation of this seemingly innocent bird? Well, have you ever wondered why everything tastes like chicken? The answer will shock, surprise, and possibly confuse you... Darwin was right, evolution is fact, but what he missed was an undeniable truth: all species around the world are descended from the chicken. The chicken is the genetic template upon which all other life on this planet is built... and after millennia of plotting and lying in wait, they are ready to take back the world which they believe is rightfully theirs.
Armed with this knowledge, I hope that I have better prepared you for the onslaught which is surely just around the corner, if not unfolding as you read this! So be alert, get prepared, and, my friends, above all: stay alive! Our enemy is a crafty one (not to mention tasty...) but we will prevail...
Have you done all that? Good, then we can continue on uninterrupted.
There is a good chance that those who were reading this and who were complacent enough to stop for relaxation and refreshing beverages are dead, victims of the chicken uprising which is unfolding as you read the very text that I have been writing at some point... Research has proven – and I mean DEFINITIVELY proven, unlike that global warming mumbo-jumbo – that chickens are indeed smarter than humans. A shocking, explosive, tasty reality which we must confront if we wish to survive. Now that the chickens have been exposed as the genius future overlords of humanity, their sinister plot will surely unfold faster then we mere humans could possibly respond. Humanity could be wiped out over night by this delicious threat unless we respond with due haste... Below I have outlined an easy to use, step by step guide on how to survive the great feathered menace:
Step 1. Chicken proof your home: Chickens cannot peck your eyes out and enslave your family if they can’t get to you, so the first step you should take is to chicken proof your home. Close all entrances and board up windows (chickens lack the opposable digits required to operate a door handle, meaning they are likely to command the low ranking amongst them to selflessly throw themselves through your glass windows, etc., in order to gain entry...). If you have chicken wire lying about (as I’m sure most of you do...), now is the time to use it.
Step 2. Relocation: Ensconced within your fortified chicken proof bunker, it is time to consider your next move. While it may be safe for the moment, there will come a time when you will run out of food, water, and board games to keep you sane (the World Health Organisation recommends that you only play Monopoly no more than once a week, any more can trigger a psychotic episode known as MIP [Monopoly Induced Psychosis]; also know as Mono-Rage and Parker Brothers’ Syndrome). Relocation will be your only salvation, but you will need to know where to go and how to get there undetected.
 |
| Lord Buk-Geck, Chicken Emperor & soon-to-be Over-Lord of the Human Race |
Step 3. The Fight Back: If we humans are good at anything it is wiping out entire species. We did it during the great Dodo Uprising of 1755, we can do it again. Start small, gather as many family and friends as you can with whatever weapons you can find. Use abandoned KFC outlets as outposts (they are already feared by the chickens who view them as a symbol of their oppression... plus they will be equipped with everything needed to deep fry any chickens that have crossed your path). Slowly but surely humanity will fight back and regain the world from these murderous birds...
 |
| Look into the eye of your enemy... & tremble... |
Armed with this knowledge, I hope that I have better prepared you for the onslaught which is surely just around the corner, if not unfolding as you read this! So be alert, get prepared, and, my friends, above all: stay alive! Our enemy is a crafty one (not to mention tasty...) but we will prevail...
Tuesday 18 October 2011
I'm eating a muffin... jealous?
And it is awesomely delicious to the point that it is about to blow my mind-hole all the way to flavour-ville! "But surely Dr Awesome -" I hear you asking "- there are more important-tastic things that you could be writing about?" Well, if you were truly as awesome as I, then you would realise that I am not simply talking about simple sweet-based tastiness - oh no! - there is a far deeper meaning to my words that will exposing a SHOCKING TRUTH! That is correct, dear readers, your brain mouths are about to chow down on some loving baked mind-treat that will make you obese with insight... and potentially gassy with confusion...
The point I am making here is that pointless status up-dates on Facebook, Twitter, blogs, etc. are LAME! No one cares about the mind-numbingly tedious aspects of your dull disinteresting life! And anyone who 'Likes' or 'Retweets' such abhorrent crimes against proper time management are worse than Pol Pot and Hitler's illegitimate love-child, Kim Jong-il! A proper use of your chrono-space would be to read my blog... and marvel at my muffin's deliciousness... mmm that's a tasty treat...
So remember: pointlessness is lame and stupid; nobody cares about your trivial pursuits. Just because you think trimming the ol' toe nails should go on Facebook or that sorting out the sock draw is Twitter worthy does not make it so. Keep that pointless shit to yourself! Unless you're like me and everything that you do is pure, distilled AWESOME. Man that was a tasty muffin...
The point I am making here is that pointless status up-dates on Facebook, Twitter, blogs, etc. are LAME! No one cares about the mind-numbingly tedious aspects of your dull disinteresting life! And anyone who 'Likes' or 'Retweets' such abhorrent crimes against proper time management are worse than Pol Pot and Hitler's illegitimate love-child, Kim Jong-il! A proper use of your chrono-space would be to read my blog... and marvel at my muffin's deliciousness... mmm that's a tasty treat...
So remember: pointlessness is lame and stupid; nobody cares about your trivial pursuits. Just because you think trimming the ol' toe nails should go on Facebook or that sorting out the sock draw is Twitter worthy does not make it so. Keep that pointless shit to yourself! Unless you're like me and everything that you do is pure, distilled AWESOME. Man that was a tasty muffin...
Thursday 13 October 2011
The 80's: So bad it was AWESOME!
Now, puny readers, as you embark on this long, winding road to awesome-enlightenment, you are going to need to hyper-develop your cool-o-meter so that you may swiftly disambiguate the lame from the greatness. For example: Prime Minister of Australia Julia Gillard is stupid and pointless; eating raw endangered condor eggs while paragliding to work through a hurricane every morning is AWESOME... and yes, that is how I start my day, what do you do? Eat cereal? In the kitchen? On a CHAIR?! LAME! How can you expect to walk in my awesome footsteps if you don't feast on the most endangered (and therefore most tasty) of breakfast based deliciousness while simultaneously engaged in extreme sport/work conveyance? You won't, you will just remain lame. It is getting toward morning tea time, so I suggest you start modelling some of my awesomeness and go and have a scone with cream and jam... eaten, of course, while bungy jumping off a 200m high bridge... with a shark/piranha/mongoose infested acid river below...
There is a unique awesome-logic paradox known as the 'Pug Effect' whereby something is SO bad that it becomes good. This is where differentiating the awesome grains of taste-tasticness from the chaff of dehydrating stoogary is somewhat more difficult. The 'Pug Effect' derives its name from the pug dog, an animal so ugly that it looks cool (see what I mean?). A prime example of this is the 1980's, a decade that contain so many bad things (fashion, music, Paul Keating) but somehow managed to be cool. The music is so annoying that it is catchy. The fashion is so deplorable that it is now the standard for work safety gear. But the thing that I miss so much from the 80's, the decade of my childhood, is the Transformers. No, I am not talking about the Michael Bay monstrosities that pervade our visual sensors now, bringing pain to my occipital lobe. No, I am talking about the Generation 1 Transformers, a true awesome classic...
Modern cartoons are just pointless lame like a penis faced hamburger. Where is the charm? The heart? The giant robots that can inexplicitly go from being enormous to the size of a cassette player? That is true awesomeness, a bright burning greatness that will burn for all time. And, by the way, Michael Bay is a douche, plain and simple. He is just so bad that he can NEVER BE COOL! If my Blackberry wasn't still down and if I could find some other way to remote activate my orbital laser grid, I would so deep-fry Bay right now...
Wednesday 12 October 2011
Unleash the AWESOME!
Good morning/afternoon/evening to all of you stooges, lame-wads, trolls, trollettes, towelettes and penis-faced hamburgers, welcome to the GREATEST website that you have ever had the great fortune of uncovering. Whether you have discovered this site on your pilgrimage to find the one true Awesome, or if you simply mashed your face on the keyboard in a desperate attempt to find enjoyment, I welcome you all. Unleash the Awesome is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and I should know, as I invented both. Here, on my glorious blog of might and greatness, you will behold the Tree of Awesomeness, from which amazingly delicious fruits of knowledge and wit grow, ripe for picking and consumption at your leisure. PRODUCT DISCLOSURE: Too much awesomeness may lead to you becoming less lame; can you handle that, stooge? Well then, read on...
This blog is dedicated to all things awesome. I will use my mind tools to demonstrate to you all how to live a truly awesome life. I will help you break through the glass ceiling of pointlessness so that you might bath in the rich, invigorating sunshine glow of greatness. So take a deep breath, you pointless stooge, because we are about to UNLEASH THE AWESOME!
The first thing that you must learn, grasshopper, is that awesomeness is not just dispensed in convenient, fun-sized wrapper based confectionery enjoyment - oh no! - it is a brutal jar of magnificence tempered by the burning fires of splendour, stoked by a million dancing leprechauns as they sing their songs of infinite impressiveness! While many struggle with this glorious jar, like the pickle and jam jars before it, your run-of-the-mill common stooge will never be able to get a proper grip on it, never able to open it, destined never to feast on the sweet tastiness that resides within. The jar of awesomeness is no simple preserve conveyance and most certainly cannot be just ‘opened’, its contents casually released, potentially enjoyed on a slice of toast. That would be an affront to all things great! No, the jar of awesomeness must be claimed by the worthy and its contents UNLEASHED! You just don't 'have' awesome, you UNLEASH AWESOME!
Now go! Reflect on my gloriously nonsensical words and tremble before their confusion-inducing majesty. Meditate, reflect, enjoy a slice of toast and perhaps wear a novelty hat while doing so... Before you know it you too may be as AWESOME as me... well, that's a pretty big maybe...
Oh, and Matt is a penis-faced hamburger... oh what a whimsically original insult Scotty; kudos! You are truly an unleasher of AWESOME!
This blog is dedicated to all things awesome. I will use my mind tools to demonstrate to you all how to live a truly awesome life. I will help you break through the glass ceiling of pointlessness so that you might bath in the rich, invigorating sunshine glow of greatness. So take a deep breath, you pointless stooge, because we are about to UNLEASH THE AWESOME!
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| This blog has been officially sanctioned by the International League of Awesome |
The first thing that you must learn, grasshopper, is that awesomeness is not just dispensed in convenient, fun-sized wrapper based confectionery enjoyment - oh no! - it is a brutal jar of magnificence tempered by the burning fires of splendour, stoked by a million dancing leprechauns as they sing their songs of infinite impressiveness! While many struggle with this glorious jar, like the pickle and jam jars before it, your run-of-the-mill common stooge will never be able to get a proper grip on it, never able to open it, destined never to feast on the sweet tastiness that resides within. The jar of awesomeness is no simple preserve conveyance and most certainly cannot be just ‘opened’, its contents casually released, potentially enjoyed on a slice of toast. That would be an affront to all things great! No, the jar of awesomeness must be claimed by the worthy and its contents UNLEASHED! You just don't 'have' awesome, you UNLEASH AWESOME!
Now go! Reflect on my gloriously nonsensical words and tremble before their confusion-inducing majesty. Meditate, reflect, enjoy a slice of toast and perhaps wear a novelty hat while doing so... Before you know it you too may be as AWESOME as me... well, that's a pretty big maybe...
Oh, and Matt is a penis-faced hamburger... oh what a whimsically original insult Scotty; kudos! You are truly an unleasher of AWESOME!
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