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Cane Toad Warrior - October 2006

And the Clock Strikes One! : Drunk

October 31st 2006 08:59


Okay. I’m sure many of you have been here before. You’re at home. Some mates are ‘round, and you’ve been guzzling rounds of beer. It gets past 10 pm. All the nearest bottle-los are now closed, and no one is in a state to drive at this point anyway. You keep drinking, blissfully unaware that you are about exhaust your supply. And then it happens. You go to the fridge to pull out the next round and you come to the shocking realisation that there is no beer left. NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!


Desperation sets in. The following is a list of what NOT to do…

1. Do not make concoctions out of things that are plainly not meant to go together; eg. Bourbon and Water. Milk and Whisky. Orange Juice and Butterscotch Schnapps. The first tentative sip will be accompanied with a ‘ay, that’s not too bad actually’, but no matter how much you try to convince yourself and your mates, you will later pay the price for this by either chucking or tasting said beverage for all the next day.
2. Do not grab that lone beer that has been sitting in the fridge for the best part of two years. It is either; a crap and obscure variety along the lines of ‘Sheaf Shout’ (which tastes like a cross between tar and molasses) or a leftover party beer that someone has found in the sun the next day and then put in the fridge to try and trick someone into drinking it. No good can come from this.
3. Do not attempt to procure some take-away from the nearest pub. If it’s past midnight there is no chance of this, no matter how much you plead, beg or threaten, the bar staff are not going to give in.

4. Do not head for the garage or shed. Any ‘alcohol’ found within will literally send you blind. No percentage of meths is good for you, so forget about any plans to mix it with something to make it drinkable.
5. Do not attempt to raid the neighbour’s supply. Think about it. You’re drunk, they’re not. You will wake them, and they will smack you upside the head with a bar of iron.

I’m sure there are many other dangers to be met when on the crawl for alcohol, but these five come to mind most readily. All I can say is, be prepared, have stocks of proper mixers for spirits, or grow some balls and drink them straight, or make sure you have more than one case of beer between three or four people!
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10% off?

October 29th 2006 12:57
Old guy, “How much is this?”
Pointing to price sticker, “$10”
His wife, “Oh, just $10! Let’s get it”.
Old guy, “No I have to see…”
“No, it’s just $10, let’s get it Karl, let’s get it now!” (desperate, as if it might slip from his hands into another eager customer’s clammy claws)
“Margaret, no! We have to make sure it’s the right one”. He goes to all smiles as he looks back at me, “Now… I get 10% off don’t I? Because I’m a professor”.
“No…”
“Oh, because it’s already on special? But otherwise I’d get 10% off wouldn’t I? That’s what you’d normally give me – because I’m a professor”.
“No, we wouldn’t”.
“But you have before”.
“No, we haven’t”.
“Okay”, he harrumphs slightly, then asks, “Can I use your phone?”
“Er… no, the manager’s on it out the back”.
“Oh. I’ll have to go and make a call, to make sure it’s the right book”.
His wife butts in again to her husband, all agitated, “Don’t be too long, it’s an STD call!”
He ignores his wife, “How long is that on special?”
“Until it goes… I could hold it for you. How long do you want me to hold it?”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes” (as if the book would come off special while he was on the phone).
He comes back and buys the book. I later find out that in this time he went up to the back of our store and berated one of the girls who also works here, asking if he could get 10% for being a professor and demanding to know when the manager would be off the phone… all because he didn’t want to pay 80 cents or whatever it costs to make a quick public call outside the local area).
Anyway, he comes back again another half an hour later, something else occurs to him.
“You don’t even give 10% off for seniors?”
“No”.
“Other books shops do”
“FUCK OFF YOU CUNT!” (Okay I didn’t really say this, but I wanted to. I can’t believe the amount of energy this guy has expended trying to wheedle a meagre dollar off his book. Is his time worth so little? Is mine? I should’ve just chucked some change on the ground outside the shop and watched as he scrambled for it like the bum he purports not to be. Professor of bollocks!)
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Bizarre and Disturbing but True - Eating Ortolans

October 26th 2006 12:02


The Ortolan Bunting is a small bird found throughout Europe and Asia. It is most famous in France where it plays an infamous and clandestine part in French cuisine.

It is a delicacy to eat the Ortolan.
It is also highly illegal.

Preparing the Ortolan for consumption
- You must capture the Ortolan alive.
- You poke it's eyes out and put it in a small cage. Alternatively, you put it in a small and dark box where it cannot see.
- Force-feed it oats and grain and similar foodstuffs until it has fattened to around four times it's original size.
- Drown it in Armagnac (a French Cognac/Brandy).
- Pluck it and roast it whole.

Eating the Ortolan
- You place a napkin or cloth over your head. This is to hide the cruelty of eating the Ortolan from God. It also traps in the aroma and flavour of the bird.
- Put the whole bird in your mouth, leaving only the beak protruding.
- Bite down, severing the bird from it's beak (which you discard).
- Chew. Bone, guts and all. You will most likely cut your mouth, but this is part of the sinful and exquisite experience of eating this poor little bird.
- It should take around fifteen minutes to chew.

The French President François Mitterrand was said to have served Ortolan to his guests at his last meal on New Year's Eve, 1995. He knew, at this stage, he was soon to die of cancer. He served the illegal delicacy to around 30 guests, and ate two whole birds himself (something unheard of - it is considered gluttenous enough to consume just one!) It was the last food he would consume, he died just 8 days later. Now that's what I call a last meal!

François Mitterrand - Chortlin' an Ortolan


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A Day at the Pub

October 25th 2006 09:01



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Doing the Washing Up

October 24th 2006 08:56
Jonno tackles the big issues... here's his take on Washing Up

Jonotello

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Dear Woolworths

October 23rd 2006 10:44
Dear Woolworths

I was shopping in your Penrith store the other day and I thought to myself ‘Wow, a lot of people sure do shop here!’ and it got me thinking even more, maybe I could operate my own Woolworths


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That's My Queen! (Meeting Queen Elizbabeth II)

October 22nd 2006 07:26


I was walking out towards George Street in the city (Sydney) to drop off some banking from work when I came across the cordoned-off street. All the traffic had been blocked off and a few thousand people were congregating up and down the sides of the street. The police were scurrying back and forth through the intersection… some sort of parade was imminent. I quickly ran across to the other side and into the bank, which was empty


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Public Masturbation

October 20th 2006 12:35
I was walking, in a calm and serene manner, through the lonesome streets of Penrith on a Sunday afternoon.

At the High Street crossroads, outside the Subway, Spotlight and Convenience store, we noticed an old drunk, some fifty years gone, abusing nobody in particular and ranting in a crazed manner


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Lisa McCune is really hot.

October 19th 2006 12:27
Is it just me, or has Lisa McCune suddenly gotten really hot in the last year or two? I never really paid much attention when she was shooting parrot smugglers and arresting drug smuggling cartels on Blue Heelers, but those Coles Ads… HUBBA HUBBA. Seriously though, if Lisa ever gets in trouble I would like to make it known to anyone out there who knows her that I will gladly look after her and make sure she is okay and I would warm up milk for her in the microwave and boil cabbage and whatever else she might like and I promise I wouldn’t take advantage of her (unless she wanted me to, and even then I’d be gentlemanly and mature about it, unless she wanted to get kinky and stuff, in which case I would oblige unless it involved donkeys or anything like that because that doesn’t really do anything for me but I doubt it would for Lisa either, but now that I think about it I could probably compromise because that’s what a lasting relationship is all about right?).

You can arrest me any day Lisa!

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Why are you telling me this?

October 19th 2006 06:05
It was unlikely that Tim Bailey’s career was about to pick up again.

CONVERSATION WITH A CUSTOMER, some time ago.

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The Dynamite Boy

October 18th 2006 13:12
The Dynamite Boy was born with a dynamite-shaped head, complete with a wick that stuck out of the top. Inside of him, alongside his vital organs and other necessities, was a great deal of combustible material. He was a reasonably happy young chap, not exceptionably bright but always listening nonetheless. He liked to ride around on trains and buses and see the different suburbs.

One day the Dynamite Boy’s path crossed with that of Jack Wasp’s. Jack Wasp was an angry ageing man with a large bloated abdomen and a stinger on his arse. He liked to light people’s heads on fire but always disappeared before they could realize they were burning, hence avoiding any blame


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The Art of Laziness?

October 17th 2006 13:16


A few handy tips on how to cut down on wasting energy (and just on generally being a rad dude


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My life as a coward.

October 12th 2006 05:15
I shrink at my own shadow. Lately, in recent months, I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder, watching for would-be muggers and attackers. Living opposite a big scary car-park doesn’t help, especially when you can easily imagine all variety of human refuse hiding in there when darkness falls. Our street being pretty much in the middle of Penrith doesn’t help either, and we get a pretty consistent stream of drunk human thoroughfare stumbling drunkenly past our house at night, especially on the weekend, and extra especially when there’s been a Panthers home game on.

Clinton, Yeltsin, and me - in happier times.

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Marijuana = boring?

October 11th 2006 05:25
As a general rule, I have no problems with people doing drugs... but smoking pot seems to make people incredibly boring. The following is an artist's impression of a typical conversation between two stoners smoking bongs.


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Am I the next Jesus Christ?

October 10th 2006 08:39
They say that Jesus will return to us all one day and that this will be known as ‘The Second Coming’ (there was a TV show in Britain about this but I haven’t seen it, and it’s just a TV show and this is about the real world so anyway…) I have good reason to believe that I am this Second Coming, here’s the evidence:

A few days ago I bought a packet of Fruit Mentos. For anyone unfamiliar with Fruit Mentos, they are chewy dragees and this particular packet has three different flavoured dragees in it – lemon (yellow), orange (orange) and strawberry (pink). Everyone hates the yellow ones, they’re just shit. Anyway I bought a packet and I’ve been eating them for the last few days and THERE HASN’T BEEN A SINGLE YELLOW ONE IN IT. It was brilliant, a true miracle. Proof that I’m the chosen one. Why else would God favour me so? What are the odds of there being a whole third of the flavours not turning up in a packet? Fairly slim and of somewhat biblical proportions (if you’ll excuse the pun… no wait, you don’t have to excuse anything, if I’m the son of God I can say whatever I want


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When stuff makes you angry - Fruit Juice!

October 9th 2006 08:34
Oh man… those frew-jew places or whatever they’re called. The fruit-juice chains with the chicks in the black shirts who give you ‘chocnana’ drinks and shit like that. Boost is another one, that’s the one with the really annoying ad on TV where some dumb slut does a little burp at the end of it. HAHAHAHA YEAH GOOD ONE. YOU BURPED. I bet it was fucking dubbed over her opening her mouth or some shit, and it isn’t even a decent burp, it was fucking pissweak. Anyway, back to these fruit juice places… WHAT A FUCKING JOKE. I was having a rant about this to someone today. Five fucking bucks for some pureed banana. You could buy a blender for $20 and spend 60 cents on a piece of fruit and make it yourself EVERY DAY rather than buy a fucking jug of cumquat squeeze for a note all the time. It’s almost as bad as the whole bottled water craze… spending two bucks on water that DOESN’T EVEN HAVE FLUORIDE IN IT! IT’S NOT EVEN AS HEALTHY AS TAP WATER, LET ALONE MORE HEALTHY AND WORTH MONEY. Yeah, I know what all the lefties are saying, ‘blah blah blah Che Guevara rules’ and some shit about fluoride in water being bad for you, ah what a fucking crock why don’t you just brush your teeth with dog shit. Every time you buy a fruju or a bottle of water there is a fat cunt sitting somewhere at a desk with a fucked up little pony tail hanging down the back of his $500 Armani suit-collar just laughing his arse out while he licks the cash off his fingers like it was grease, and fucks a plastic-sheened high-class whore. These cunts wipe their arse with your flag and you pay them for it. IT’S NOT AS IF FRUIT GROWS ON TREES OR ANYTHING.

NEWSFLASH. Fingering platypuses cures arthritis!
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Toilet Review

October 8th 2006 11:33
Readying myself to review the premises


Too often toilets get ignored by the so-called 'critics'. Sure, you can look in a newspaper, or a magazine, or a blog, or watch TV, and see some farty old fart farter reviewing a newspaper, or a magazine, or a blog, or a television show, but maaaaaaaan, why don't none of these cats wanna review toilets


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The Groovy Adventures of Matt Locke: Job - Part 7

October 6th 2006 05:29


It is the following day. Leif’s eyes slowly and painfully open and we see that he is laying face down on the lounge room floor. He has been out all the night before with the local rugby team, and he has spent all of Matt’s pay. A freight box sits next to the lounge conspicuously. Leif slowly stumbles to his feet, tries to walk to the fridge, but only makes it to the lounge. He lights a cigarette and immediately launches into a tirade of coughing and retching


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Castration

October 4th 2006 12:31



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My scar

October 3rd 2006 07:47
Santa found it hard to find work on the other 364 days of the year

I was 12, on my way home from school with my mates, and walking a broken route interrupted by the local shops and friends’ houses. We were young, we were lads, and, most evidently, we were stupid.

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Dear Australian Taxation Office

October 2nd 2006 10:57
Dear Australian Taxation Office

Today I received a Higher Education Contribution Scheme Information statement in my mail informing me that I had $11730 owing on my compulsory repayment. Now I’m not exactly raking it in right now and I read that you guys had an $8 billion surplus when your delightful treasurer Peter Costello spoke about the budget last year… $8 billion is a lot of money, and $11730 is a substantially small fraction of this. I don’t know what the exact percentage would be, unfortunately I didn’t accumulate my HECS debt on a maths degree. I only earned between 25-30 thousand last year. Anyway, seeing as you made so much last year and I made so little (and it looks like I will continue to make so little) I was wondering if you could let me off and wipe my HECS debt clear. I promise not to tell anyone else. I think you all do a smashing job and I imagine it must be stressful at times and a terrible bore, but I think you guys do marvelously all the same. I figure that the $8 billion comes from all our taxes and so on anyway so it would just be silly for me to pay the HECS as well, especially as my university education has done so little for me in terms of employment. I don’t mean that disrespectfully, I just thought I might as well ask seeming as we all did so well and maybe you could share it around a bit by helping a member of our country’s struggling workforce. I’m a nice person too and I used to give money to Amnesty International and everything so it’s not like you would be helping out some kind of mean person or loafer


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