Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Doctors' Waiting Rooms

Me: Look, I can understand them having current issues of Woman's Weekly, but why do they have to keep these issues from, like, 1997 and 1985?
Thaththa: Those were vintage years in women's magazines.

My parents rock.

The Inadequacy of Language

Over the past year, it has come to my attention that there are quite a few concepts for which the English language fails miserably. Unsurprisingly, many of these terms are related to love and similar disasters; as we all know, the English are hardly the most passionate species. So here are some new terms which I have found myself using in an attempt to patch up these glaring holes in the vocabulary.

Ass-crack Girls:
Those girls who wear hipsters a little too low on their hips so that their ass-crack shows despite wearing a huge studded belt. Often associated with Spare Tyres.

Spare Tyre:
Bulging abdominal fat that spills out between the top of someone's jeans and the bottom of their top.

Backup Crush:
They're your friend but you flirt like mad. You know you have a bit of a crush on them but you probably don't want to date them. You might make out occasionally but you're not fuck buddies. When times are bad with your love life you often turn to them to make you feel better and more attractive.

It's not fantastic, mediocre isn't quite the world, but what it certainly isn't is terrible. And that's the important thing. The fact that it isn't terrible.

Love Interest:
The primary person who you are pursuing and are quite likely to have success with in the future. However, it's not a done deal, just very promising. Refer: romantic lead.

We are not sure what this word is or even what it means but it seems to be usually used in the context of "screw you" or "shut up" or some other combination which can be reduced to the acronym SU.

Pink Girl:
An excessively feminine girl, especially one who wears pink and follows the latest teenage fashions.

Red Woman:
One of those larger-than-life, theatrical and flamboyant women. Often wears classic, elegant designs and is associated somehow with gay people. Examples: The Extra Redundant Woman from the Glasshouse.

The act of scoring with someone who usually attracted to the gender you are not from. Usually used to refer to a homosexual pick up rather than a heterosexual one.

Someone who is definitely in the "relationship" category (as opposed to "casual" or "sex") but who isn't yet a boyfriend or girlfriend. Often used derisively esp. as in "ex-involvement".

Plus Plus:
This is added to the end of a word or phrase to emphasise or exaggerate its meaning, often sarcastically.

Slut Music:
That genre of electroclash or dance music which features suggestive female vocals over minimalist background. Examples include: Peaches, Basement Jaxx - Get me off, Death in Vegas - Hands around my throat. Often played at Alia or similar venues with a predominantly lesbian clientele.

Gay Maccas:
The 24 hour McDonalds on the corner of Victoria Parade and Smith Street. A compulsory stop after going out on a Thursday night.

Well that's all for now.
~enjoy :-)

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

"Original" is another word for "special"

I am not usually a cruel person. However Gen sent me the link to a certain site containing some "Original Poems" by a young lady known as Elizabeth Atkins. Let me cut to the chase; this poetry is simply terrible. The kind of terrible where at first you think it's a parody site. Then you realise that it's for real...

Firstly there is the poetess's strange identification with objects, such as sand, oak trees, and... silverware. Yes, silverware. Then there is the obligatory teenage angst. Combined with the silverware. And in case you had no idea what sand, oak trees or silverware are, there are pictures of these items inserted ad hoc into the poetry. I think she might have been trying for some sort of "multimedia" effect.

Then of course, on the same site are the "Poems Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe". For some reason there is a picture of the guy from Smallville in one of the poems. I'm not sure what the Superman guy is doing in Poe but it doesn't look well advised.
As Gen said to me:
"Are they the kind of poems that would make Edgar Allan Poe cry?"
"No, they are the kind of poems that would give Poe an eating disorder."
Later of course I found out that this girl had to do this website as a part of some school project. I felt a bit bad about posting this review... until I realised that she appeared to be the only one in her class who had enabled public access to her site. Which is just asking for trouble. And as Gen also said:
"She didn't have to put oaks on it - if there hadn't been oaks, I wouldn't have found it, and then she wouldn't get mocked on your blog!"
Bloody school kids.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Melbourne >> Sydney

Here I am, bored in Sydney. Therefore I will write to you all about how much better Melbourne is than Sydney (as you probably guessed from the very mathematical expression that comprises the subject of this message).
For one thing, I am living at home. This wouldn't be so back except for the fact that we live FIFTEEN FRICKIN' KILOMETRES from the GODDAMN CITY.
Next, Sydney has the shittest cafes ever. Plus the coffee sucks. And the names of the cafes are terrible too. Cafe Andronicus? Please, who would want to go to a cafe which sounds like it is inhabited by only "Macho, Macho Men" unless you want to be a member of the Village People.
Also, the city centre is populated by a species of individuals renowned worldwide for their cluelessness and stupidity. That's right, tourists. I challenge anyone in Sydney to ask a random for directions. Because sure as hell you're not gonna get any. Why not? Because there ARE no Sydneysiders in the city. They're all 15 kms from the city drinking terribly weak flat whites.
Then of course there is the nightlife. When your nightlife consists of crappy nightclubs populated by members of the stripey shirt brigade or terrible tourist pubs, well... one would rather drink at home to be honest.
And dare I mention the public transport...?

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Chinese Students' Society

Current Membership:

Mrs. Gertrude Mavis Archibold
Ms. Wilhelmina Gwendolyn van der Höyden
Mr. Horace Maximillien Bernstein
Miss Peggy Bernadine Davidson
Sir Bruce Archibald Farnsworth Sr. the third
Lady Mrs. Constance Daniela Gloria Palmer-Smithson
Madam Susie Wong

The Perils of a Political Life

Well, after a couple of conversations about domineering woman politician types, it has come the attention of both me and Chris Medicine that these battle-axes (I use the term fondly) have one thing in common: their weird names. I mean honestly, let's take a look at some of the names we have on display: Megawati Sukarno-Putri, Benazir Bhutto, Natasha Stott-Despoja, Dawn de Witt, Wilma Beswick, Sirimavo Bandaranaike. Which is probably why they entered politics- to screw over the little fuckers who teased them in primary school. Case in point: Condoleezza Rice.

Honestly, what kind of name is that? We came up with several theories as to how someone could conceivably come up with such an unbelievably odd name and scar their daughter with it at birth forever more. They all involve a father in a state of shock at the thought of having to name his daughter at short notice one way or another.
" I got a condo, would ya like to leeze 'er? Actually that kind of makes a cool name, Condoleezza it is!"

"Oh FUCK... a name?!? Er... Oh dear I haven't got my glasses... COND(ensed milk) OL(ives) - store in the frEEZA after use, mix with RICE and water..."
I think you all get the idea. Honestly the only reason I can conceive of for people not making fun of her name more is either the fact that she is a) scary and probably in complete control of the world's toughest army or b) they assume like the uber-PC, condescending pricks that they are that it is a traditional African name. Like "Moesha". Or "Mya". Or "Brandy". Or "Tina Turner".

Honestly, mate.

Later that night, I had a disturbing thought... who was the leader of these oddly named politicians? Could it be... The Iron Lady?! I thought of the Falklands with horror...

I think this post demonstrates the immaturity of myself and my friends the best. And if anyone even dares mention what my name is, I will make sure my mighty wrath will come down on you from... well... 50 years in the future and that cache of nukeyoular weapons that I'll have from taking over my little island despot haven in the sun and ruling it with an iron fist.

With love,
The Oracle

Thursday, December 09, 2004

The Saga of Princess Peach, Part One

Of all the tut0rs at lovely International House, one clearly stands out for her, well, weirdness. That girl is dear Princess Peach, whom I initially mistook for a fresher. In this new series of posts, I shall enlighten you all with a few anecdotes of our ex-tut0r, who will be sadly missed... *cough*.

Episode 1: Knights on White Horses with Blue Satin Sashes

So, my first real encounter with Princess Peach was in the Senior Common Room. We were all sitting around, and the Squirrel With Arrows On Its Back brought up an interesting study he had read about how certain features - such as large eyes, large ears, fur etc - make something/someone look cute. The subject then changed to "features you find sexually attractive" and in turn to "people you find sexually attractive". The tutors answered in turn and finally the question turned to me...
"So, SG, what kind of guys do you find attractive? You know I'm really interested in finding out because you know, I think lots of guys would be intimidated by how outgoing you are, so I was wondering which guys you like."
So said Princess Peach. We all sorta gave each other funny looks- she really had no idea... The Cradle Snatcher was the first to break the silence.
"Ummm, I don't think her tastes exactly run that way."
"What guys think of me sort of isn't particularly relevant." I added, hoping she'd get the hint.
"Oh, but I think that a guy would really, you know, complement your personality, blah blah blah..."
And she sort of went on like that for a bit. I sort of had to spell it out for her not long after that.
"But what if there was this guy, you know, and he was really nice and handsome and he was really understanding of your situation..."
At that point I realised what I barely thought possible- there, in front of me was a university graduate who really did not understand the concept of homosexuality.
"You know, you're giving quite a good description of someone's best guy friend there," said the Cradle Snatcher.
Princess Peach attempted to continue. Then K-squared interrupted and turned the tables on her:
"So what if there was a girl who had exactly the same features, was really nice, and beautiful and really understanding. Would you go for her?"
Princess Peach of course flatly refused. After quite some discussion we put it to her: would she rather kiss a 70 year old man with syphilis and herpes, or a young beautiful girl of 20?
"I wouldn't kiss either."
"But you have to choose one. Ok, you have to choose or you'll die."
"Well, ok, the 70 year old man with syphilis."
"Alright, what if you had to choose between dying and kissing the girl?"
"I'd choose to die."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. I wouldn't do anything that would affect my integrity like that!"
"You'd rather die than kiss a girl?"
"Yes. Well maybe if I had a husband and kids who relied on me to be alive maybe I would, but then I would be really depressed."
And then we got onto the subject of what kind of guy Princess Peach would be into. She described a Prince Charming character (surprise surprise) who was destined to be with her since she was born who's out there somewhere waiting to sweep her off her feet. She wouldn't have to go and find him (and she wouldn't try either), he'd find her.
"You know, if I'd heard that from an 11 year old I'd call it naive, but coming from a 28 year old, no offence, but this is simply stupid," said K-squared who articulated what we were all thinking.
Once again, I was at a complete loss.

Till next time,
- SG Out

Saturday, December 04, 2004


I don't know what the hell this is, but it's brilliant nonetheless!

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Advertising Mishap!

Seriously, it's okay to drink bottled water. Everyone knows we're running dangerously low on metrosexuals.
Drink Big M instead! That way no-one will think you're gay, they'll just think you're a child!

And kudos to Ms Fits for this dissertation

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

The Price of Beef - a Blog of Average Proportions

The world of blogging is a miraculous one. From what once began as- from what I considered anyway- a rather bizarre exercise in navel-gazing, it has grown to form communities, to blog the world's events as they happen, to, if you will, document the current state and future of our collective musings as a species...

And thus, I was most, *ahem*, interested, to be sent the link to The Beef's very own bl0g. I was not entirely surprised to find it full of the following:
Other highlights include: The Beef, uber-feminist referring to her girlfriend as her "ho"; the fact that apparently everyone at her college hates her; the fact that she sewed her girlfriends bag up but it's ok because "At least I ain't sewing and washing for some grotty chauvinist of a boy."

One only needs to take a glance at the blogs (or should I say, Livejournals) of the other Sony Sound System posse in order to fully appreciate the full essence of that "community". I leave it as an exercise to the reader to follow the friends links on The Beef's blog.

The surprise of course is the blog's similarity to most people's very own logs of self-contemplation. It's apparently not so easy to stand out from the crowd after all, huh? And let's not forget the rather ovine, shall we say, nature of her namesake.