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Cane Toad Warrior - September 2006



It is the next day. Matt has gone out to ‘work’. Leif slouches on the lounge, his eyes glazed over as he watches TV. Buzz comes shuffling in.
Buzz grunts at Leif and collapses on the lounge next to him.

Leif: Having a good day?

Buzz grunts again.

Leif: What’d you get up to?
Buzz: Ate some plants. Chased a dog. Took a dump in a plastic bag and left it on Addy’s doorstep.

Leif: Good day then?
Buzz: The best.

They watch TV for a bit longer.

Leif: I wanna get up, hey? But there’s just no reason to.

Buzz nods, slack-jawed. The theme song to “Play School” can be heard coming from the television. Buzz starts nodding his head to the music.

Leif: You reckon Matt’s got any money around?
Buzz: Of course.
Leif: I’m gonna raid his room!

Leif, with as much effort as he can muster, peels himself off the lounge and walks off toe Matt’s room.

Leif slowly pushes the door to Matt’s room open, peering in as if expecting someone to be in there. When he sees it is empty, he strides in and looks all around. Leif jumps up on Matt’s bed, jumps up and down on it for a few moments, and then seems to remember why he came in. He goes to the poster above Matt’s bed, and peels the top half down to look behind it. He pulls out a page that has been cut out from a magazine. He holds it up to the light with a confused look of interest and disgust.

Leif: (quietly) Tonia Toddman?

Leif grimaces and replaces the picture behind the poster. He jumps down off the bed and opens the wardrobe, ignoring the mannequin painted in Braveheart-style warpaint. He rummages through Matt’s things but finds no money. He shuts the wardrobe doors and leans back against them, thinking.


Leif: Ah!

Leif bends down and searches under Matt’s bed. He pulls out a used tin of baked beans and empties it out onto the bed. A collection of notes and coins topple out.

Leif: Merry Christmas Leif!

Club Cesspool. This is the local pub… a dingy, pathetic and barren graveyard of day-time drunks. It is perpetually dark inside, bad 80s rock plays the jukebox and dodgy-looking members of various marginalized groups of social outcasts cluster around the bar, tables and stained pool-tables. Leif pushes the door open triumphantly, standing the daylight that pours into the darkened room. Some of the barflies squint and huddle away from the light, trying to see who has come in.

Leif: Lads, a most glorious day has arrived. I, Leif Potter, have had a quite fortuitous piece of luck.

Leif holds a big bundle of notes, waving it braggingly in the faces of some drunks sitting at the closet table. He walks up to the bar.

Leif: Hey, wench!

The barchick looks at Leif witheringly.

Barchick: Didn’t we bar you Potter?
Leif: No, no… it’s okay, I have money!
Barchick: You won’t try and drape your undies on the bouncer’s face again?
Leif: (crossing his fingers behind his back) I promise.
Barchick: What d’ya want then?
Leif: Schooner of Sheep Dip Dry thanks!

The barchick pours the drink into a dirty glass and Leif pays for it. One of the drunks at the bar eyes the wad of cash in Leif’s hand. Leif notices.

Leif: Old timer, stop staring you’re making me sick. You won’t ever see money like this again unless you rob someone.

The drunk scowls and looks away.
Leif sits down on a stool and turns to a drunk on the other side.

Leif: Fun times matey?

The drunk is unable to speak, he just moans lowly and a big string of drool cascades down onto the beer mat.

Leif: Yeah… fun times.

Leif starts ogling the barchick, who is down the other end of the bar watching the TV.

Leif: (to drunk) I’d like to glaze her face in my sugar-shot… I should try and splash some beer up on her shirt.

Leif starts leering at her really obviously. This goes on for a while until the doors burst open noisily, and about 6 or 7 guys come in. It’s the local school rugby team. They raucously make their way over to the bar, one of them knocks Leif’s massive hat off his hat and messes up his hair.

Rugby Player: Hey Leif! Taking a break from the TV?
Leif: (sarcastically, though it’s actually true) Yeah… What are you guys doing?
Rugby Player: We just had a win! (The team cheers) Time to celebrate.

The barchick leans over the bar and admonishes the rugby players.

Barchick: Hey! I don’t want none of those homoerotic rugby rituals in here this afternoon!

The team groans.

Leif: What are you talking about?
Barchick: You know full well what I’m talkin’ about… nudey runs…

Another groan.

Barchick: …Pouring beer down a pyramid of naked arsecracks and sweaty roid-shrunken ballbags into a schooner and then getting some mug to drink it…

A louder groan.

Rugby Player: Alright, alright! We’ll just have a round and then we’ll be off. (Turns to teammates) We’ll go somewhere else boys. You up for it Leif?

Leif looks around, looks at the wad of cash in his hand, and shrugs.

Leif: For sure!
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Pointless Fashion Continues!

September 28th 2006 10:57
Menopause was not kind to Pauline.

Anyone noticed those bands of material that chicks are wearing around their waist over the tops of their jeans? WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH THIS STUPID LOOKING PIECE OF FASHION NONSENSE? Someone tried to tell me that it was to stop the arse-crack from showing when girls wear hipsters... um, pray tell, WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT OF WEARING HIPSTERS THEN?

THIS LATEST DEVELOPMENT IN THE FASHION WORLD ISN'T SO MUCH A SHOCK, IT'S MORE AN OBNOXIOUS GESTURE DESIGNED TO MAKE ME WANT TO DOUSE THE GIRLS WEARING THEM IN PETROL JUST SO I CAN SET THEM ALIGHT AND SEE THE OFFENDING ARTICLES PERISH IN THE PROCESS. NOW, I'M NOT A VIOLENT PERSON, I JUST LIKE TYPING IN CAPS AND USING HYPERBOLE TO HIGHLIGHT MY DISLIKE FOR THIS LATEST EXERCISE IN MODERN STUPIDY.

Ladies, I implore you, if you don't want us to see your arse-crack THEN WEAR SOME PANTS THAT FIT PROPERLY.

Besides, a hint of arse-crack can be very sexy on a woman, don't cover it up!
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A recipe on how to be awesome

September 27th 2006 10:50
Accept no substitutes… Marmite and Promite are fucked and were designed as a prank on poms.

Okay, this is a recipe that came via my brother Jon, via one of his mates, via the pub. Normally I don’t trust handed-down recipes, but I’ll make an exception in this case because the path of transmission seems fairly trustworthy. Now… this is a fairly simple recipe and a surefire way to impress a chick, your mates or even your mum.

First, you get a bit of steak, ay? You let it defrost and all that shit, and you get some great big wads of fresh salty vegemite and you smear it all over the steak. Let this sit for a few hours, in the fridge if you must, and watch some telly or clean out your ears while you wait. Afternoon telly can be pretty good, especially if there’s the Bill on or something, so maybe try and do it in the afternoon.

Okay, so after a few hours, the steak’s juices should have helped the vegemite soak in and stuff – they call it marinade in the cooking business, but we don’t really need to know any fancy words like that as long as we can do it, right? Anyway, we now turn on the stove and get a fry pan out, chuck in your butter or oil or whatever and then whack your steak on. Simple as that. Let it cook and you should cop a mad wafting of vegemite and meat juice. Awesome.

Dig in and enjoy.
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What happened to Centrepoint tower?

September 26th 2006 14:08
7th February 2006-02-07

Dear Sydney Tower


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The Cavalry of Cool

September 25th 2006 12:23
So I was enjoying a romantic night out with a lady friend…


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Matt sits on a bench outside the main plaza of town, he looks dejected from losing job after job. Addy, a rather weedish and annoying acquaintance of Matt, sits next to him


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Dear Subway

September 21st 2006 04:18
Dear Subway

I am confused by your ‘4 Easy Steps’ sign that is displayed outside your stores. In this sign it proclaims that there are only 4 easy steps to choosing the sub I want. But the thing is, it’s not 4 steps at all – it’s clearly 7


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MT. DRUITT MAIL ORDER MINGERS

September 20th 2006 13:26
FORGET RUSSIA!
FORGET THE PHILLIPINES!

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Food

September 19th 2006 13:19
This is a rant my brother Jonno had for me... he dictated it to me and I bashed it into some kind of readable order.

Jonno - a bit upset

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Sharon Stone set for Basic Instinct 3?

A while ago I read an article where a bunch of ‘prominent’ female actors (actresses) had a good old whine about there not being enough good roles for older women to play in film these days.

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Matt is back at home, he sits at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands and his tie undone. Leif sits opposite him, annoyed and agitated


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How to Let a Woman Know you Love Her

September 14th 2006 08:06


HOW TO LET A WOMAN KNOW YOU LOVE HER


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Letter to HMV

September 13th 2006 08:00
Obviously I wrote this before HMV got bought out by Sanity. I didn't get a letter back for this one.

Dear HMV


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Degrassi Junior High: The Lost Years

September 12th 2006 10:48
THE RAPE OF ARTHUR KOBALOWSKIE, PART 1

"Arthur you fat fuck. When you gonna be my bitch?"

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Sealand, the Greatest Country in the World

September 11th 2006 12:26


You may not be aware of it, but your Atlases and world maps are wrong. Look at them carefully and you will notice a distinct absence of Sealand – the world’s smallest country. Sealand has existed since 1967, a great deal longer than some other so-called nations (East Timor stand up, and please, sit the fuck back down again


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Train Ticket - have you got one?

September 9th 2006 12:14
TRAIN TICKET
Here is a picture of me going for a swim. I have adventures so frequently that I have to swim in Samurai armour just in case.

I caught the train from Werro to Mt Druitt this afternoon to go to work. I bought a return ticket but when I got to Druitt the gate blurted at me "Invalid Ticket. See personnel". So I did, and the guy told me to put it through again. It accepted this time but took my ticket


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Leif: …Matt, it’s time for you to get a job


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The Wedge sucks!

September 7th 2006 12:06
I sent this letter to Channel 10 recently

Dear Channel 10


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Passion of the Christ II

September 5th 2006 09:35


Using the latest breakthroughs in special effects, Mel Gibson has made a resurrection of his own – Charles Bronson is back, as Jesus Christ, in ‘Passion of the Christ II: Crimes of Passion


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The Mighty Snot Rag

September 4th 2006 07:32
THE MIGHTY SNOT RAG


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Matt races to the front door, earnest in his effort to answer the knocking. He fumbles with the door handle, have a hard time working it due to the spoon he is still holding in his hand. Finally he opens the door. It is not the Mailman as he had hoped, his face falls in dismay.

Matt: Oh, it’s you


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