an announcement...

Hi People, I haven't been blogging much of late. Apologies but I've been concentrating my limited creative efforts on writing short plays just recently. Ten minute plays, directed and acted by rank amateurs like myself. It's all a bit new and exciting and I've neglected TWG. I entered a local competition with one of my scripts last week...and here are the results: crash test drama Story of my life...lousy fucking 3 seconds...

don't eat the bananas...

A summary of the reporting quality of the Japanese crisis as seen on CNN and Sky News...


Q: So, Professor Morkel, at this point in time what are the chances of the nuclear crisis at the Fukushima Daiichi reactor turning into a Chernobyl-like disaster?
A: Almost zero. They are completely different breeds of reactors. This reactor is water-cooled whereas Chernobyl was water-cooled/graphite-moderated and it was the graphite which exploded and sent a radioactive plume into the atmosphere. That cannot happen here.
Q: So, you’re saying there’s no possibility of a huge nuclear explosion with hundreds of thousands of people killed and millions more left severely injured or possibly exposed to radiation and turned into giant mutant insects?
A: No. Not really.
Q: Can you completely guarantee that one hundred percent?
A: No. Not really.
Q: So, you’re saying there IS a possibility?
A: I’m saying there’s more likelihood of you getting fucked in the ass doggie style by Jesus this Easter.
Q: So, you can’t rule it out absolutely then?
A: I guess not.
Q: OK, now that we’ve established this looks like it could be a disaster similar to the one at Chernobyl, can you explain exactly what’s going on inside the core of the troubled reactor right now?
A: Well, without water to cool the core, the uranium fuel rods have been exposed, causing them to heat up and we have assumed they will have begun a partial melt-down.
Q: Can you be sure?
A: No, but the assumption is fairly obvious at this stage.
Q: Is there any way to be sure the fuel rods are melting down?
A: No. Not really.
Q: Why?
A: Because the rods are encased in a solid steel container with four-inch thick walls to keep them secure, so we can’t actually see them.
Q: So, you’re saying there’s no viewing window in the containment vessel?
A: Of course not.
Q: And is this lack of a viewing window in your opinion a design flaw in the reactor that set it on its inevitable course to become a Chernobyl-like disaster?
A: No, you cannot have viewing windows in a containment vessel.
Q: And why is that, Professor.
A: Because it’s a containment vessel for uranium fuel rods and it gets extremely hot in there…like 5000 degrees hot…and even the most heat resistant glass known to science melts at 2000 degrees…that’s why.
Q: Is it possible to send someone inside the core to have a look?
A: I wish it was…I’d send you in right now.
Q: What about an unmanned probe like the ones used to explore distant objects in space? Could a robot-drone similar to the ones used by the CIA to assassinate terrorists in Iraq be used to check inside the reactor core?
A: NO!!!
Q: What about a tiny submarine like in ‘Fantastic Voyage’? Could we shrink a nuclear sub and possibly send it into the core to check the damage and carry out repairs?
A: No!!!
Q: Why not? Is it because there's no water for the submarine to operate in?
A: No. It's because it’s a movie.
Q: ‘The China Syndrome’ was also a movie.
A: Yes.
Q: So are you suggesting we have a potential ‘China Syndrome’ event on our hands here then, Professor.
A: I said nothing of the sort.
Q: OK, can we talk about the massive explosions that have been occurring since last Friday that have convinced you we have a Chernobyl-like disaster reminiscent of ‘The China Syndrome’ on our hands?
A: What? These are just hydrogen explosions. Simple combustion. Nothing more at this stage.
Q: You mean a hydrogen explosion similar to ‘The Hindenburg’ catastrophe many years ago in which all those people died horribly on fire. Are you implying that in addition to a Chernobyl-like disaster similar to the one in ‘The China Syndrome’, that Japan could be engulfed in a catastrophic Hindenburg-like firestorm similar to the one that destroyed Tokyo towards the end of WW2 and killed tens of thousands of people?
A: Of course I’m not implying that, you stupid cunt. This is a nuclear reactor made from steel and concrete, not a balloon made from starched cotton sheets.
Q: I see. Now these apocalyptic hydrogen explosions we’re watching on the monitor; millions of viewers have tweeted their concern that these huge hydrogen explosions seem eerily reminiscent of the explosion caused when The United States dropped the second atomic bomb, a hydrogen bomb, on Nagasaki to end WW2, killing tens of thousands of people and severely injuring hundreds of thousands more and possibly exposing millions more to radiation which turned them into giant mutant insects. What can you say to these concerned viewers to alleviate their desperate fear?
A: I can say that the two are nothing alike; it’s preposterous.
Q: But we’re talking about nuclear hydrogen here, Professor.
A: No we’re not. There’s no such thing as nuclear hydrogen. This is a nuclear reactor which produces hydrogen as a by-product.
Q: Worst case scenario is there any way this potentially cataclysmic production of hydrogen could develop into an atomic bomb similar to the one that destroyed Nagasaki?
A: No, that’s absurd. It’s simple combustion, not a nuclear reaction.
Q: Under what circumstances could a simple case of hydrogen combustion escalate into a catastrophic nuclear event?
A: It can’t. Ever. Never. Never ever. Cannot happen. Unless you dropped a hydrogen-fuelled atomic weapon on top of the combustion event it cannot happen.
Q: So, you seem to be warning the viewers that given Japan’s history of having atomic weapons of mass-destruction dropped on it, the possibility cannot be dismissed lightly?
A: No, I’m doing nothing like that.
Q: Now, in relation to the processes occurring inside the reactor core; can you explain in layman’s terms to the viewers just exactly what is going on?
A: Probably not.
Q: Why?
A: Because it’s very complex and your viewers are almost certainly morons.
Q: So, does this beg the question of whether we should be using technologies that are well beyond our understanding?
A: They are not beyond our understanding. They are beyond yours. We know how this all works. You don’t need to know anything.
Q: Are you suggesting there’s some sort of cover-up going on here?
A: Of course not.
Q: Then why won’t you release the information concerning what’s really going on inside the reactor’s core?
A: Because you won’t understand it.
Q: OK, are you prepared to discuss the alarming levels of radiation that are being emitted from the reactors?
A: Yes, I would love to address this topic actually.
Q: We are receiving reports that radiation levels near the power plants have reached more that 1000 microSieverts…is this cause for blind panic?
A: No.
Q: What about mass hysteria?
A: No.
Q: Well many people are saying that 1000 microSieverts is an enormously scary level.
A: It’s not.
Q: 1000 would seem to be a very large number to many people.
A: It is…but a microSievert is a very small unit of measure.
Q: But if you have a lot of somethings that are very small, can’t that amount to a large thing at some point?
A: In theory I suppose…but it’s not a practical concern. You’re exposed to higher levels of radiation eating a banana than you would be standing outside the exclusion zone set up around the reactor.
Q: With all due respect, Professor…I don’t think you can compare eating a banana with eating uranium fuel rods.
A: I never mentioned anything about eating uranium fuel rods. That’s insane.
Q: Because of the danger?
A: Of course because of the danger.
Q: And what about these radioactive bananas? Should we be avoiding them?
A: What radioactive bananas?
Q: You just mentioned radioactive bananas a few seconds ago.
A: There’s no such thing as radioactive bananas. Bananas contain tiny amounts of radioactive material but not enough to harm you.
Q: How many of these radioactive bananas would someone have to eat before they ran the risk of a meltdown or of mutating into a giant insect?
A: I don’t know. Several trillion I suspect.
Q: The scientific community seems to just churn out these huge numbers glibly but can you put this into context for the average viewer? What might several trillion bananas look like?
A: It would be huge.
Q: Could you give the viewers an example that might be relevant to them?
A: Well, if the tennis-ball size chunk of coke they caught Charlie Sheen with was a banana, then he would have to have a coke-ball the size of the Earth to equate to several trillion bananas.
Q: I see…and at this stage are there any plans to bring Charlie Sheen to Japan to help with what looks like becoming the worst nuclear disaster since the Chernobyl catastrophe nearly three decades ago which killed hundreds of thousands of people and left millions more severely injured or possibly exposed to radiation that turned them into giant mutant insects…

Of course deep down I knew my mate had to be kidding !!!
I mean what sort of a complete helmet would risk such a pyrrhic victory over the possibility, or even probability of getting his ass handed to him for no real gain ??
Was he expecting the Guinness World Records cameras to be there as we rolled into Lane Cove on the last remaining molecule of petrol…or a tickertape parade through the CBD…or to receive the Nobel Prize for Stupidity ??

‘Um, mate…there’s a servo on the left about half a kilometre down the highway…can you please pull in there for gas ??’
‘No, I hate that place. ‘The Rock’…why the fuck do they have a petrol station shaped like Ayers Rock on the Pacific Highway anyway ?? I’m not stopping there.’
‘Oh right…you wouldn’t buy petrol from there but you’d probably try jumping it in this van if I said you couldn’t do it ??’

OK, no drama; there were two more major stations on the freeway before we hit the no petrol zone about 80 kilometres from Sydney, by which time we’d have the flashing orange dashboard light going crazy and besides, it’s clearly marked with a big, fuck-off sign saying ‘LAST PETROL ON FREEWAY FOR ANY OF YOU CLEVER CUNTS THAT THINK YOU CAN MAKE IT ON YOUR RESERVE TANK !!!’

Fifty kilometers later there was only one major station left as we sailed past the next servo at precisely 120 kph with roughly 1/3 of a tank left and nearly 150 kilometres to go to Sydney.
Seventy kilometers later we sailed past the last servo, still doing precisely 120 kph but now with roughly 1/5 of a tank left and nearly 80 kilometres to go to Sydney.

‘You’re an idiot…and I’m not lifting a finger to help when we run out of petrol.’
‘Mate, there’s still 1/5 of a tank left and we have 80 kilometres to go and I’m sure this van gets more than 400 kilometres to a tank so we’re fine.’
‘What about if there’s congestion ahead and we have to crawl for a while...you’re assuming it’ll be a clear run into Sydney…’
‘We’ll be fine.’
‘Well at least slow down a bit. Fuel consumption increases as the square of the increase in speed…so, if you drive twice as fast you actually use four times as much fuel to do it.’
‘Bullshit. Then why do use more fuel driving round town than you do on the freeway?? Who told you that??’
‘It’s basic physics. Stephen Hawking told me, you cunt. I know you do more driving than him but I think he might have you covered on the theoretical side of this problem.’

Needless to say, the remaining 1/5 of the tank began to evaporate before our eyes. You could actually see the fuel gauge visibly sagging with each passing kilometre…and with more than 30 kilometres still to go the needle finally came to rest on the little plastic nub which pretty much prevents it from falling off the dial completely…

Now, as it turned out we didn’t actually run out of petrol. We did however spend an extra 30 minutes fucking around off the freeway frantically looking for a suburban station outside Sydney, when we could have refueled earlier in five minutes flat.
I’m sure my mate is over on his blog crowing about his ‘win’, citing Google Map distances and average speeds and jerking himself off with generous amounts of Hindsight Lube…but the point is this…
If you’re the racing manager of the Ferrari F1 team, then perhaps there’s some benefit in having your vehicle arrive at its final destination with a teaspoon of gas left in the tank…but when you’re a moron in a furniture van trying to get home in Sunday afternoon traffic on a freeway…IT’S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING…

is the tank half empty or half full...

I have this mate, a lovely guy but a bit of a know-it-all, who always thinks he’s right about things no matter how often they turn out differently to what he expected. Hey, no harm in that though; certainly beats having no opinion at all.
Anyway, he and I needed to drive up to Cunts Nest (220 kms away), ostensibly to deliver some furniture to the beach house, so he rented a mid-sized van for the job and we set off with a full load in the back and a full tank of petrol.
We got there without a hitch, dropped the furniture off and immediately headed back home again…
About two minutes into the return drive he said to me, ‘Hey, do you think we can get home on half a tank of petrol ??’
I looked at the gauge, which was almost perfectly lined up with the vertical line showing the tank was either half-full or half-empty depending on the way you look at life.
‘I doubt it, mate.’
‘Why not ??’
‘Well, everyone knows the second half of the tank always seems to empty faster than the first half…some design flaw in the ballast needle or something.’
‘But we had a full load of furniture coming up and we’re empty for the return trip so that should cancel it out.’
‘Well, I suppose it might…but what’s the point of trying anyway ??
‘It’d be an interesting exercise…plus I would only have to fill the tank once more before I return the van if we can make it.’
‘And you’re prepared to risk running out of petrol somewhere on the freeway outside Sydney in order to test your hypothesis ??’
‘We won’t run out !!!’
‘We might.’
‘We won’t.’
‘Why even risk it ??’
‘Coz it’d be kind of cool to do it.’
‘Mate…jumping The Grand Canyon in this van would be cool…running out of petrol in it on the freeway would be a pain in the ass.’
‘We won’t.’
‘We might.’
‘No…fill the fucking tank up at the next station, you cunt.’
‘No, I want to see how far we can go…’

Now, at this point I should tell you something about my mate. Apart from being the most indomitable optimist I have ever met, he has a rather acute case of OCD with respect to certain things. He loves order…especially mathematical order. On the drive up he maintained a steady speed of 120 kph while in the 110 kph zone. I asked him why and he said the speed cameras were set with a 10% margin of latitude so that he was fine at this speed. The real reason he likes travelling at that speed is that it’s exactly two kilometers per minute and he can mentally compute his estimated time of arrival at a certain point much easier. Some people might call him ‘anal’, however I’ve never really understood the connection between the compulsive need for neatness and order…and the rather peculiar habit of storing things in your ass. So, I prefer to think of him as just a plain nutbag.
He's a cross between Biggles and your grandfather. Probably inventing some mythical boy's own adventure to replace the sheer mundaneness of this exercise, in which he's just bombed Berlin to smithereens in his Sopwith Camel and is scurrying back to England on half a tank of fuel with the entire Luftwaffe on his tail.
And I suppose part of me looked forward to the satisfaction of us running dry, so I could say 'Told you so,' and then have a two hour nap in the van while he flagged down a car and hitchiked to the nearest servo for a few litres of petrol, although I'm not sure it would have outweighed the aggravation of having to have a two hour nap in the van while he flagged down a car and hitchiked to the nearest servo for a few litres of petrol...
You see I figure life's too long to make it any more difficult that it needs to be !!!

‘Mate, please pull into the next servo and fill the fucking tank…I am not going to get stranded on the freeway because you see this as a major challenge.’
‘We can make it.’ He's Kramer in the episode where Jerry is thinking of buying the new Saab.
‘I don’t care about it enough to try.’
‘Well I do.’
‘Well you’re a cunt and I can see why your wife left you. I’d leave you right now if I had another way of getting home…’


To be cont’d very soon…

cue the 'jaws' music...

As you may have noticed, I haven’t blogged for a while !!!
Nothing sinister in it: I just haven’t felt like it to be honest.
It started off as a small writer’s block, which then developed into creative apathy all by itself…followed thereafter by a personal catastrophe that rendered me utterly disinterested in making anyone’s life any jollier.
So, I didn’t blog…
And I certainly didn’t comment on many other blogs because let’s face it…if I’m not writing then I’m not reading. It’s the same with conversation; if I’m not talking then I’m unlikely to be listening.
But I’ll be back in the New Year for sure.
Meanwhile, with the New Year theme in mind, I’d like to farewell 2010 with a little game I invented a few years ago called ‘Other Peoples’ New Year’s Blogging Resolutions’…or as it’s sometimes also known: What I Hate Most About Your Blog…You Cunt !!!
The idea is basically to list the NY resolutions you think certain other people should make…because I’d rather nail my pee-pee to a burning building than read anyone’s personal NY resolutions themselves. I mean really…like I give a fuck whether you do drugs, smoke too many cigarettes, are fifty kilos overweight, beat your spouse or secretly drink from the toilet.
So, in order to play this game, when you comment, please choose three (3) bloggers and list one (1) resolution you’d like to see each of them make for 2011 with respect to their blogs.

I’ll start the game off…and please don’t feel slighted by omission if you weren’t one of the three I chose…there are no favourites here at TWG. Rest assured that even though you’re not mentioned…I almost certainly still loathe many things about your shitty blog…

OK…let’s start with…Kitty over at ‘Shrinking Kitty’… (OK so I DO play favourites here at TWG…GFY). Not much to complain about over at SK really. Kitty’s blog is plump, pink and perfect…just like its author. So, I’d like her NY resolution to be that she will self-delete her wonderful blog on a far more regular basis; say twice a week to begin with…

Then there’s Spiky over at ‘Bit Player Reflects’ …no prizes for guessing what I’d like her to do with ‘Drive-By Poetry Day’. I make no secret of the fact I despise poetry. I loathe it. Reading someone else’s poetry is like listening to someone talk about a weird dream they had…or an acid trip they once took. Poetry is nothing more than shitty prose, chopped up into supposedly artistic bits with proper punctuation left out for added ‘meaning’. Of course I am probably the only one who thinks like this…

And finally there’s Bam Bam & Frankie over at ‘BamBamBam’ & ‘The Fifi Dangerfield Files’ …yes I know they are two people/two blogs but in reality they are now one. Siamese bloggers joined at the cyber-genitals, messing up the internet with their syrupy romance. I’m not really sure what I’d like these two love-vultures to resolve for NY ?? Certainly they were edgier when single and bitter…but even I wouldn’t be comfortable for their turgid affair to be butchered in the name of better blogging. So, perhaps the two of you could take your juvenile mutual desire for each other’s slippery bits somewhere else…like FB…and get back to your blogging roots…

And on that note…may I wish you all a Happy New Year and may you all get what you asked for in 2011…

seriously...what are the chances...

They say that there is someone out there for everybody !!!
They, of course, are full of shit. These are the same ‘they’ who tell losers it’s lucky when a bird takes a crap on them. It’s just not true.
There may in fact be more than one person for some people…but unless you’re the sort of cabbage who believes in the magical healing power of rainbows, it’s time to admit that for other people there just might not be anyone.
I figure it’s a numbers game mostly.
BFNs !!! The ‘B’ stands for big, the ‘N’ stands for numbers…I’ll let you fuckers work out what the ‘F’ stands for.
Take me for instance; what are the chances that there’s someone out there for me ?? Slim, that’s what sort of chance there is…because as everyone knows I’m an asshole…and a very choosy one at that.
But let’s do the BFNs anyway, shall we ?? And let’s assume that for every disqualifying criterion we remove roughly (ROUGHLY ok) 50% of the available number of candidates according to the theory of normal distribution.
So, say there are 6 billion people on the planet; half of them are disqualified immediately for not being chicks, so that leaves 3 billion; still a pretty BFN.
Of course half those chicks are the wrong age, either too young and protected by the law or too old and protected by nature, so that leaves 1.5 billion.
Half of those are the wrong height, either potential draftees for the NBL or trolls that look like they’ve fallen off a key ring, so that leaves 750 million.
Half of those are the wrong weight, either skeleton-like bags of anorexic bones or binge-eating tubs of lard, so that leaves 400 million.
Half of those have heads like watermelons or faces that are interchangeable with their ass, so that leaves 200 million.
Half of those are dumb cunts with the IQ of a pot-plant, so that leaves 100 million or so.
See, not such a BFN now is it…although it’s still not a bad number but we’ve only got through the shallower, physical requirements for my perfect partner.
Let’s look at some of the deeper qualities I’m after…
Half of those are either God-bothering hand-holders, tree-worshippers, fundamentalist suicide bombers or spend every Saturday night on the roof of their Doomsday Church waiting for a spaceship to collect them, so that leaves 50 million.
Don’t like ‘Seinfeld’…25 million.
Hold their cutlery like baboons…15 million.
Can’t drive a manual car or reverse park…8 million.
Are Holocaust-deniers…4 million.
Eat vegetarian…2 million.
Call partner by a baby name in public …1 million.
Take forever to get to the point in a conversation …500,000.
Believe in astrology…250,000.
Follow celebrity news…125,000.
Overlap plates in the dishwasher…60,000.
Constantly ask how they look…30,000.
Pack too many clothes on a trip …15,000.
Allergic to cats…8,000.
Listen to loud music first thing in the morning …4000.
Laugh at their own jokes when they aren’t that funny…2000.
Like to do Yum-cha on Sundays …1000.
Use baby talk during sex…500
Mess up the car radio stations…250.
Turn into quadriplegics when they get sick…125
Leave wet towels on the bed…60.
Over-zealous light turner-offerers…30.
Spread out like a starfish in bed…15.
Brush teeth in lounge room while trying to talk about their day at work…8.
Read self-help books…4.
Spells ‘definitely’ as ‘definately’…2.
Like to interpret dreams…1.

See, we’re down to 1 person already and she has to actually like me…

you know...maybe man didn't land on the moon either...

Gosh it's been great having the world's hottest blogger back again and commenting on TWG. The one and only 'Steph' of 'Much Ado About Something', the smokingest blonde ever in the entire history of blogging in this country. My goodness she was hot; and not just her either...who can forget the equally stunning but darkly evil side-kick Kylie
They were the salt and pepper goddesses of the interwebs.

OK, so the posts were hardly Ayn Rand...and the stories weren't exactly the adventures of Marco Polo or Aladdin...but who cared ?? Just the thought of these two scorching hornbags tearing around Sydney with their ultra-fabulous friends was enough to have us all wishing we could be them for a day.
And what a tease 'Steph' was too...she'd spice up her posts with a few photos...always careful to blackout the eyes or cut off the heads to protect her privacy and the privacy of her uberhot friends; or as she called them The Supertards.
I always felt sorry for the average 'MAAS' reader because they never got to see the real 'Steph', covered as she was in her giant sunnies, or eyes blacked out...coz boy oh boy was she ever ridiculously good-looking. Luckily, I had become very close friends with her off-blog. We e-mailed regularly...and sometimes, when I'd go in to bat for her on her blog after a hater had taken a cheap shot, she'd blubber her thanks in private and reward me with an uncensored photo of her...or her and Kylie...which I would instantly print out and paper my entire bedroom wall with
Anyway, I think enough time has passed since 'MAAS' went extinct...and I know many of you were huge, huge fans of 'Steph'...so I have decided to release my private collection of photos for your masturbatory pleasure...

Here's one of my favourites. Classic 'Steph' really...and look she's even giving me 'the finger'...coz you know...I'm Fingers.

Or what about this one ?? Brunette 'Steph' with her adorable little doggie 'Lulubelle'...proving that she didn't always have to be blonde to look gorgeous.

And here they are together again. The Captain and Vice-Captain of the All Star Supertards; OMG who wouldn't want to slather themselves in peanut butter oil and slide up and down bewteen these two mega-foxes ??

Let me save you the trouble of fantasizing about that; here's what it actually looks like to get down and dirty with 'Steph' and her A-list party-stoppers. I think this was taken at 'Steph's' last birthday...a champagne-fuelled pillow-wrestle at some top secret nightclub that we mortals can only dream about.

So, hands up everyone who thinks these photos are the nicest present I've ever given my readers here on TWG ?? Hmmm...just counting those hands...that's ONE...thanks Memphis Steve.
Now, hands up those who think I've committed an act of unspeakable cuntery and violated the trust of one of blogging's 'Untouchables'. Hmmm...OK that's a lot of hands. In fact I'd say everyone has their hand up except Memphis Steve.
No, wait...he's got his hand up too; nothing like having an each way bet when it comes to not pissing 'Steph' off.

OK, let's cut to the chase here, shall we.
Firstly, at the conclusion of this post I will be flying off to Stockholm to accept the Nobel Prize for Stupidity.
Secondly, if anyone knows where Memphis Steve actually lives, could you please go round there and hide all the rope, remove all the knives, unplug the toaster and stay with him for a while.
And lastly, I'd like everyone to take a peek at this link; this one here...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/staci_e_cole/

Recognize anyone you know ??
Hey look, it's 'Steph'...
There's blonde 'Steph' and brunette 'Steph'...'Steph' and her Mum...'Steph' and the luckiest dolphin in the whole wide world...they're all there; it's basically a 'Steph Wonderworld'.


Check out page 2...why it's 'Steph and Kylie'...frolicking at the beach party...glamming it up at the local club...and everyone's all-time fave 'Nurse Steph and Nurse Kylie'...


OK, who's got a really big case of the 'what the fucks' ??

Try page 3 then...

Ooooooooh, it's 'Bollinger Steph' and 'Kristal Kylie' chugging bottles of French champagne on their PR salaries as though the world could end at any moment.

OK, anyone whose penny still hasn't dropped...I want you to go and Google 'Staci Cole' !!!

I'll wait here while you do it...

Now...say it with me...OMG...ZOMG...ZOMFG...

More to come on this breaking news story...oh and seriously can someone please go round and check on Memphis for me...