Faster and smarter than you.

Regular readers will remember my last rant about censorship, and also my call to the turkish courts to censor my blog instead of youtube.

Friends, the unthinkable has happened. When I tried to access my blog mere minutes ago, a notice appeared informing me that access to this website has been blocked by the Diyarbakir 1st Criminal Court of Peace. No shit. I thought 6 people read this thing, but obviously someone in far eastern Turkey is listening.

So this post serves no purpose except to say - HA. HA. HA. We have ways and means to avoid your filters, fuckers. We have been sitting in our house all day long watching stuff on youtube. I can access my blog whenever I feel like it. You guys can try and ban whatever you like, but at the end of the day we are smarter, faster and better at the internet than you. Or, some people I know are anyway. I can sit here, type whatever the fuck I feel like and you can't do anything.

Suck on that.

Your Mum's got a dick and your father's jealous: Why Turks lead the world in swearing.

Lesson 1: Covering what you already know.

You don't know it yet, but you can swear in Turkish. That irreplaceable audible pause of the English language 'Ummmmm....' translates in Turkish as that irreplaceable word for female genitalia 'Cunt'. Awesome. Thousands of Australian backpackers, not content with offending the locals with drunken renditions of Men at Work, have unknowingly been talking about vag while checking out Sultana Met.

Lesson 2: The versatility of animals

Animals, in particular the donkey, feature widely in Turkish insults. An old favourite of anyone forced onto the barely controlled madeness of İstanbul roads is to refer to anyone and everyone else on the roads as an 'eşşoğlu eşek' - son of a donkey. Recently one of my friends, following 25 beers, announced to me proudly and in English that his grandfather was a donkey. İ guess he was trying to tell me that while he was an asshole, he was only a second generation asshole, and İ should take that into account.

Lesson 3: Profanities are not only versatile and shit in English.

İ always thought the shit hitting the fan was an admirable use of language. Everytime it is used, İ can actually see shit hitting a fan and spreading across a pristine room. İ also appreciate the application of shit to everyday situations, like the operation of a fan. Turks too, have used this principle. 'Kargalar bok yemeden' translates as 'before the crows start eating shit' - or, really fucking early. 'İki ucu boklu değnek' refers to 'a cane with shit on both ends' - a big problem with no solutions. Another phrase for a fucked up situation is the classic 'Göte giren şemsiye açılmaz' - 'An umbrella inserted in the ass will not open'. And how.

Insert here.

Censorshit - a plea to the Ankara 12th Criminal Court of Peace

Friends, its been a while, but lets just say that İ have been on a top secret mission for the government that may or may not have included slipping slow acting poison to the cast of High School Musical. Keep your eyes peeled to monitor my success.

Topic for the day is: shit that you didn't think you gave a flying fuck about until it is no longer there. AKA - Youtube: the gaping hole in my life.

So, İ relocated to Turkey for a variety of reasons. 1. The kebaps in Australia are an embarassment to slowly rotating meat everywhere. 2. With the exit of J-Ho and the entry of K-Rudd, 10 years of seething anger were replaced with the kind of bland boredom only experienced by viewers of that Raymond Show and eaters of English food. 3. İ got nothing more. Needless to say, all future blogs will be broadcast live, hectic and fooly sik from Türkiye.

Getting to the point. Turkey has recently joined such luminaries such as İran, Saudi Arabia, China and İndonesia in banning Youtube. İ no longer have access to clips of girls shitting in spas, fat guys dancing or Prime Ministers picking their noses. İ thought İ didn't need access to such clips. İ thought İ could survive with conversation, books and the occassional newspaper. Oh how wrong İ was. You see, youtube has given us a chance to look into the lives of every raving lunatic with the skills to upload a video. These raving lunatics are what make life interesting. These raving lunatics give us shit to talk about over a beer. These raving lunatics deserve their 3 minutes and 43 seconds of time to cry about Britney Spears, share footage of their housemate wasted or even, god forbid, make a video about how Atatürk was really a woman with a moustache who collected Veronicas memorabilia and wanted to give İstanbul back to the Greeks.

Hey Jerks: if you want to block something, block my ears from ever having to listen to Kid Rock. Block access to any site promoting High School Musical. Block my blog for the Atatürk comments. Jesus. The possibilities are endless. But please, give me back my youtube motherfuckers....

My brother shone a laser at me while I was watching television. Can I have him arrested?

How times have changed. At last check, the things I needed to fear seemed logical. The news gave me a good reason to fear them. Terrorists, because they will blow you up. Muslims, because they are terrorists. Boat people, because they may be Muslim. Drugs, cause they are bad. And possibly Muslim. The link hasn’t been proven yet, but I’m sure Miranda Devine’s people are working on it. No, this is the dawning of a new era. Fear no longer comes wrapped in a Yasser Arafat scarf (and thank Christ for that – walking around Glebe Markets on a Saturday morning would be panic inducing), but in less easy to recognise forms. Forms such as LAAAASER POIINTERS…..

That is correct. The weapon of choice for professors and men in middle management everywhere is now officially the top of the fear list. Last night a person was spotted shining a laser at an aircraft from a police helicopter. The helicopter FLEW TO HIS HOUSE, LANDED AND ARRESTED HIM. Now, stop me if I’m wrong. Perhaps laser pointers are a threat to life as we know it. Perhaps a big group people are planning to simultaneously use their lasers to point at the moon at the same time with the intent of blowing the moon up. Perhaps laser pointers are, in fact, Muslim. I’m just saying that I find it a little ridiculous that a helicopter would land to arrest a guy for shining a red dot at a plane. I thought helicopters were used in important police business, like chasing O.J Simpson or catching Colombian drug lords or arresting The Veronicas for raping my ears with their music. Priorities people. Get some.

< Beware.

Shitties. I mean, Cities.

It’s that time of year. For months overpaid, underemployed product and institution development top-down interpersonal solutions creators (aka ‘management consultants’ aka most useless profession since time immemorial) have been analysing data in an attempt to create the ‘Most Liveable Cities in the Entire World’ list. As usual, there are no real surprises. The top ten cities seem to give the impression that to be ‘liveable’ you must be expensive, white, and full of very tall, very boring people.

< Artist's Impression of Top 10 Cities
Top of the list was Zurich, which in 1973 was th


Sorry, I momentarily lost consciousness while typing that sentence. Back to it. Switzerland scored three cities in the top ten. In my mind, Switzerland is the K-Rudd of Europe. It's very bland, very Christian, tries to be everyone’s best friend and speaks Chinese. (Well. You get the point.) Once, JUST ONCE I’d love Switzerland to start taking sides. Stand up in their observer box at the U.N and call Sarkozy a cunt. Sell plutonium to Iran. Then sell it to Israel. Then tell Ahmedinijan that Olmert said his Mum was a screamer. That’s the kind of country I would want to see topping the list. Imagine that. A bunch of shithead Swiss running around, causing wars and then retiring to their liveable cities to enjoy the lack of traffic congestion and availability of banking services. But alas, the Swiss remain boring and on top. (Not in the sexual sense. Its all missionary for those animals.)

Now, I would like to point out an apparent typo in the list. Some halfwit at Mercer accidentally put Adelaide in at number 29. I rang them this morning to point, laugh and correct the oversight. You see, Paris is at number 33. Anyhoo, IT TURNS OUT THEY WERE SERIOUS. Oh, the humanity. They placed a paddock with a church and a cricket pitch over the city of lights, the unparalleled capital of fashion and cheese and edible gastropods….. Sigh. Keep in mind, these are the same people who got paid and spent months determining that Bagdad was, in fact, the bottom of the cities surveyed for personal safety. My 3 year old cousin, who thinks that Dora the Explorer is the Queen of Australia AND Swaziland could have told them that. Next year I vote for change. Top 50 Cities You Are Most Likely To Get A Root In. Top 50 Cities Ranked By Ease With Which You Contract Salmonella. Top 50 Cities For Ladyboys. Those lists, I need.

< Wacky Adelaide residents.

Dress-ups

One of my (many) pet hates is the method with which members of my own sex approach fancy dress parties. In my mind, a fancy dress party is an excuse to go as a carrot (orange t-shirt and jeans) or, an eggplant (purple t-shirt and jeans) or, perhaps a pumpkin (2 orange t-shirts layered for a bigger vegetable effect. Oh, and jeans.)

Sadly, this is not the case for many of the hundreds of girls I have seen at various events in my short but extensive 26 year partying career. I haven’t quite worked out the philosophy behind it yet, but I imagine this is what goes through a great number of minds:


Hmm... it's Sarah's Disney party this weekend. Maybe I'll go as Snow White.


Of course, cause Snow White was a crack whore who was pimped out by the Dwarves (midgets? people of short stature? must find that out for future pc posting) until a sugar daddy came and put her up in a mansion in Hollywood till she grew old, got botox and died from an overdose of Vicodin and No-Doze.

Oh my god! Pete's Goodies & Baddies 25th is on Saturday. I'll just go as a devil.



Millions of men are now wondering whether to hedge their bets and aim for hell, or gamble on the fact that God has EE boobs and cruises around heaven in a g-banger and heels.


Thank god the theme for Jacquie's party is back to school. I don't even have to think!



Hmmm... the problem is, I quite often see school girls cruising around like this. Might leave it alone for fear of making my brain explode.



Apparently there's like, no theme for the dress up. You just go as whatever - I so know what I'm going as.



Ahh, old faithful. The Nurse that Likes to Fuck.

You get my point. It's time for a vegetable revolution, starting right now.

Conspiracy Theory #1

At the gym this morning I was watching musicmax, which sometimes rocks my world and other times makes me want to stab the veronica's eyes out, give them new eyes, and then stab them out again. After a Celine song was followed by a Deltard song (she's just so... brave) I realised that we have all been the victim of an elaborate hoax.

Fact 1: Celine faded into obscurity about the same time that Deltard arrived on the scene.

Fact 2: They both sing like they have a dead bird lodged in their throats.

Fact 3: Deltard had Hodgkinson's Disease. In Canada, where Celine is from, 'Hodgkinsons' means 'Find young Australian host body with similar dead bird voice to inhabit and re-ignite career'*

So, my conspiracy theory this week is that Deltard is, in fact, being plagued by the parasitic Celine. Check photos above for confirmation. Have you ever seen them in the same place?



*may not be fact, but my french is terrible (or 'terible' as they say) so possibly fairly close to mark.