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Cane Toad Warrior - November 2006

Interview with Jim Corr, or the CORRS

November 30th 2006 09:40
METAL MAX INTERVIEWS JIM CORR, of the CORRS

Jim Corr, of the imaginatively named 'The Corrs'.


METAL MAX: First of all, thanks for taking some time out for the interview.
JIM CORR: That’s fine.
METAL MAX: I guess the most prominent question in my mind, and in the minds of everyone, is what it’s like to have three mad hot sisters. Do you wake up sometimes and just go ‘fworrrrrr!’

JIM CORR: (LAUGHS) Er, no, because they’re my sisters…
METAL MAX: Yeah, but c’mon… look at them. They’re fully babes.
JIM CORR: I wouldn’t know. What about me? Am I a babe?
METAL MAX: What? No… oh, is that your game? Are you a trouser-wowser?
JIM CORR: A what?
METAL MAX: You know… painting the town brown. An explorer of the subterranean passage?
JIM CORR: I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re…
METAL MAX: Look, have you ever spied on your sisters and had a bat?
JIM CORR: Are we here to talk about music, or are you going to keep on talking shit?
METAL MAX: Hey hey! You’re the one who doesn’t dig the chicks! You want to talk about music? Well, to be honest mate, you don’t look like a musician. Why is your hair so short?
JIM CORR: (LAUGHING UNEASILY) Some parts of Ireland aren’t too sympathetic to guys with long hair…
METAL MAX: And your clothes aren’t exactly cool. Where’s the black jeans? The muscle-t? The bandana?

JIM CORR: Actually, at one of our recent shows with Sheryl Crow…
METAL MAX: Uh! Uh! Did you just say Sheryl Crow?
JIM CORR: Yeah, Sheryl Crow, anyway at this show…
METAL MAX: What do you mean by ‘show’?
JIM CORR: You know, show, a concert. Anyway…
METAL MAX: Sorry. I don’t think I want to hear this. Sheryl Crow cacks like a cow.
JIM CORR: She what? Actually, she’s a really great performer…
METAL MAX: Sorry, did you just say ‘performer’? I really don’t think I can continue this interview.
JIM CORR: Why ever not?
METAL MAX: You seem to be sucking.
JIM CORR: Oh, why don’t you just give me a chance to speak!
METAL MAX: Okay. Top five metal albums of the late 80s.
JIM CORR: Metal? Oh, I see… I dunno. I think I had a Bon Jovi single once. That’s kind of metal isn’t it?
METAL MAX: Okay, bye.
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KFC AND HOW TO FIX IT

November 29th 2006 09:15
I hate KFC the same way that a junkie hates heroin. Kentucky Fried Chicken is a pus-filled blister on the skin of society, festering and growing and spreading like disease. The Colonel is one of the few truly evil entities to be born from human nature. Anyway, this is all irrelevant. I’m here to fix KFC. For too long it has hidden behind double-speak and consumerist intentions… the chicken is about as fresh as Estelle Getty’s grandma. I feel that if KFC is going to be the way that it is it might as well go for glory.

Chips:
Too healthy. I say – more salt, cook them in as much grease as possible. I’m talking gallons of the shit. Tell the pimple-faced youth slaving away at them to stop holding allusions that they will do away with their acne and to cease all anti-pimple treatments immediately. Cooking is hot… acne revels in sweat. Imagine all the zit-soaked perspiration that is going to drip onto these chips. I mean, sure, it happens already, but imagine how much better it would be if the kids just let the pimples fester to their natural vanishing point of collusion with boils, sweat, scars and whatever else finds the teenager’s face such a hotbed of disease-celebration. Chips face-goo = yum.

Chicken:
The fact that only one in four fat fucks dies from an instant heart attack when they bite into the Colonel’s tumour-filled chicken is testament to how disgustingly healthy it really is. THIS ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH. More grease, more lard, cook it in faecal matter if you have to. LET’S GET THOSE FAT CUNTS KEELING OVER AT LEAST 50% OF THE TIME.

Popcorn Chicken:
What the fuck is this shit anyway? Up the batter you cunts, at least as much batter as there is chicken. And salt. In fact, there should be so much salt that you have to swallow the equivalent of two tablespoons of it before you even taste a hint of chicken.

Coleslaw:
Coleslaw is fucking fucked anyway. The only way I could imagine KFC improving their coleslaw is if they pumped two litres of condensed oil and fat into it, removed the sauces and plants, and chucked in some of their chicken for good measure.

Burgers:
No more lettuce. Replace sauce with just oil. When you say bacon, you mean spam, SO JUST FUCKING PUT A WAD OF SPAM ON IT ALREADY. As for pineapple, if you have to put it on there at least coat it in batter first.

Mashed Potato & Gravy:
Fuck off.

Mayonnaise:
As if the manager isn’t personally sticking his dick into as many food products as possible anyway. You might as well get the whole crew to squeeze smegma and flap fungus out onto each burger. Oh, did I say chicken? I meant POSSIBLE chicken. It’s like Russian Roulette… will my burger be rat or pigeon? WHO GIVES A FUCK, MMMMM TASTE THAT YUMMY JUICE WHEN YOU BITE INTO THE MEAT. GURGLE GURGLE!

FUCK OFF COLONEL SANDERS YOU CUNT! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE UP TO, DON’T PRETEND WE’RE FRIENDS. I EAT YOUR CHICKEN BECAUSE YOU PUMP IT FULL OF STEROIDS AND ADDICTIVE CHEMICALS. YOU’RE A GODDAMN PIMP.
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Dear OPSM

November 28th 2006 09:09
This is a letter I sent to OPSM a while ago

Dear OPSM

I was wondering if I could work for your company. I am not a four-eyes but I don’t regard four-eyes’ as second-class citizens like some people. Some of my friends are even speckies, so as you can see, I am not a prejudiced person when it comes to those with poor eyes who have to wear those unfortunate face-windows.

What sort of qualifications would I need to work in your company? I am good at looking at people’s eyes and can often tell if something is wrong with them. Only yesterday I looked at a man on the bus and I could quite clearly deduce that he was bung-eyed. Surely he would need glasses?

I have also seen ‘Revenge of the Nerds’ if this helps.

Thanks, Luke.



They actually replied and asked me to call them in regards to setting up an interview! It's always great when you write a dodgy letter to someone and they call your bluff.
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The Barter System makes a Cum-back!

November 27th 2006 07:03
I was watching that most reputable of journalistic programs, Today Tonight, the other day and they had a story about a female divorcee who could not afford to have her derelict house renovated (obviously she couldn’t work cause, well, she’s a woman!) and anyway… the community around her were in a hoo-har because she advertised 1 hour of her time (IE. Sexual favours) for 5 hours of renovation work for any tradies out there who were hard up for some hard shagging. Anyways, it worked and she got her house looking pretty schmick, you could really see that a lot of cum, sweat and tears had gone into it.

Now, I don’t really think it’s anyone’s business how she gets by but I reckon she could be onto something pretty good here… she could go down to Woolies and offer a blowjob in exchange for her groceries if she doesn’t have any cash on her, or if the newspaper boy comes round with the newspaper and she doesn’t have the right change she could just give him a quick one off the wrist instead. I imagine, for the really big things, she’d progress to anal and bukkake-fun and what-have-you. Maybe when she needs a light globe changed and she can’t reach it or just can’t be fucked she might call the guy across the road over and ask him to oblige her in exchange for a gash-flash. And if her kids don’t have the right bus fare for the school bus or maybe they’ve lost their bus pass she could probably just give them some saucy photos to give to the bus driver in exchange for a free ride


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A Crappy Comic starring Christopher Walken

November 24th 2006 03:49



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Metallica... Shittest band ever?

November 23rd 2006 03:40
St. Anger - the only album of original material that Metallica have released between 1997 and the present time (2006). Pretty lazy for a bunch of dudes who don't do anything else.


Okay, this is regardless of whether you actually like Metallica’s songs or not. Forget all that stuff. As far as genre goes, each to their own. My argument for proving that Metallica are the shittest band ever has nothing to do with their music… it does however have everything to do with their lack of music releases. Check it out, between 1998 and 2003 they released


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My Formal (that's Prom Night, for any Americans reading)

November 22nd 2006 03:33
I went to my year 12 formal, despite deep reservations about what little significance it would hold for me. It was a horribly bleached out progression of mundane disappointments, each one stacking up upon the other until my energy levels were completely vanquished by a complete lack of alcohol, fun and afterparty.

1. I agreed to go with a girl just to stop her friend from asking me to go with her


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I visited a Supre store and amazing things happened.

November 21st 2006 05:01
So I walked into this Supre shop the other day, cause there were hot chicks in there and stuff, and the lights were cranking a massive party atmosphere, and there was a girl dancing in the window. So I walked up to the bar (counter...) and asked for a Bourbon and Coke (like in a club...)

"Uh... yeah, real funny dickhead" says the foopterish tight-shirt wearing man behind the counter


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Close Call

November 19th 2006 13:05
Flying donkey held back by cart.


Once, I was out on the booze in Penrith. I don’t remember how the night started and to be honest, I don’t actually remember anything about the night aside from this isolated incident I’m about to relate. It could’ve been any night I was out on the booze in Penrith, and there’ve been a few


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Escalator Etiquette

November 17th 2006 05:37


What's with this? It's not a fucking ride, why just stand there for the entire duration? There's nothing worse than trying to get somewhere in a hurry and you get stuck behind some dickhead who refuses to even budge an inch while there's still a few seconds of escalation left to go


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How to Make A Taxi Ride More Entertaining.

November 15th 2006 05:35
1. Ask how much he would charge for a blowjob. (I’ve done this one, his reaction was pretty funny)
2. Start the ride off with the phrase “how bout those immigrants” or “so, the government – what do you think?”
3. Throw up


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The Duckmole

November 13th 2006 08:52
Fig. 1


There has been a longstanding tradition in Australia to let visitors to our country know about the Koala’s somewhat ferocious cousin, The Drop Bear. Unfortunately the Drop Bear is a mostly fictitious creation, inspired partially by another shady member of Australia’s animal kingdom, a creature that has been covered up by our tourism office and government for a long time now. This creature is the Duckmole, a vicious and unrelentingly nasty mammal with an insatiable taste for human blood


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Escalator Story

November 12th 2006 10:43
Today I was at work and outside my store is an escalator that leads down to Pitt Street mall. Anyways, this old lady in a wheelchair goes up to the escalator (someone was pushing her) and she decides she wants to go down the escalator, so she gets out of the chair and gets on.

As she descends she loses her balance (oh yeah, she's meant to be in a wheelchair!) and falls and tumbles all the way to the bottom


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An Amazing True Story

November 10th 2006 11:18
So I was walking along in the Plaza and it’s heaps busy and there are kids everywhere. I mean everywhere. Wandering around, milling about, hanging out of fat guy’s arses, everywhere. So, myself being in a bit of a hurry, I had to tell one particular 7 year old girl to “get the fuck out of my way”. Obviously, her mum was kind of upset. She got all red in the face and grabbed me by the shoulder and screamed, “How dare you say that to a child!” So, doubly obviously, I punched her in the face and laughed. Security came along and shook my hand. They’re thinking about giving me an award. I’ll probably accept it.
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Crest of Gold (Pt. 4)

November 9th 2006 11:13
Then, not so long after this, he came across a dying Galah. It kicked and thrashed at his approach but was too weak to put up any kind of real fight. Danny killed it, figuring it was now put out of it’s misery, and he promptly set about plucking out all of it’s best feathers. He paid no regard to what danger any further uniqueness would put him in… life wasn’t worth living unless he could live with cockatoos again, and that meant making himself beautiful again, or at least not so revoltingly disfigured. He set out for his old roost and found Zach once more.

Zach couldn’t believe it! Danny had come back as an even bigger mess than before, and had been gone for a very long time. Danny explained and begged his friend to assist him once more. Zach was once again reluctant but saw the desperate gleam in Danny’s eye and finally gave in, pushing the pink and grey feathers into Danny’s mottled, scaly head. It was all Danny could do not to scream out in pain, and once Zach had finished he flew off, wanting to let the feathers settle in hermitage, away from jealous and mocking eyes


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Crest of Gold (Pt. 3)

November 8th 2006 09:34
And then he found himself in darkness, rudely snatched away from his adoring reflection, and his screeching and thrashing did nothing to throw off the bag and darkness around him.

But when the excited man got Danny home and examined the frightened bird in it’s new confines he found he had apparently been the subject of a hoax… it was just an average run-of-the-mill, common, dirty cockatoo. The crest was false and the feathers had been forced into it’s scalp. The man did not know who had done such a thing, or why, but he suddenly felt very foolish and humiliated and found his dashed hopes giving way to anger. And this man (not surprisingly) was an uncouth man, prone to violence, unafraid of the law, and certainly not above taking his anger out on animals. He held Danny down and ripped the offending feathers from the bird’s head. Danny screamed and kicked at the man, scratching him with his claws and sinking his beak into the man’s hand, breaking free and flying from the shouting man’s clutches. Danny quickly found an open window and pushed his way through a tear in the screen, making for the bush again


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Crest of Gold (Pt. 2)

November 7th 2006 05:46
Danny retreated into himself after the incident, keeping contact with the flock to a minimum. One day, not so long after I saw these cockies at Macquarie University, Danny was wandering by himself through the national park near Sutherland Shire. He came across the butchered remains of some sort of parrot, and his disgust for the carnage was quickly overcome by a swell of excitement from within. Such was Danny’s reserves of once-powerful vanity and pride that they could sometimes overcome all else. This was one of those times. Danny pulled some feathers from the carcass and flew out in search of some of his flock.

Zach was a member of this flock, a friend of Danny’s even, and he was there to see Danny fly in – the flock presently resting in a tree for the dusk, screeching and squawking as their manner often demands of them in such times. Danny roosted in next to his friend and passed him the feathers


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Crest of Gold (Pt. 1)

November 5th 2006 23:36
Danny was a cockatoo much like any other. He enjoyed all the noisy things that cockatoos loved to do. He was what you or I would cal a “Sulphur-Crested Cockatoo”, the great white cockatoos often seen in pet shops, a comb of splendid yellow feathers crowned upon their heads. Upon seeing these cockatoos I’m often very keen to elicit one of their well-worn greetings of “arro”. Their enigmatic eyes usually regard me with a strange mix of mischief and disinterest, and I suspect they’re as equally keen to bite a chunk out of my finger as I am to get them to speak human-speak.

Danny wasn’t a domestic cockatoo, though judging from his demeanour he very well could’ve been. Danny was a proud and vain cockie, often in a dreamworld of his own, flicking his head side to side over water to keep a check on his reflection. Stretching his wings theatrically and spreading his crest for ‘the ladies’. It’s true that Danny was well presented, but his showy self-absorbing manner did little to enamour him to these ladies. He was generally fine with that, so long as he had his reflection


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Dear Coles

November 3rd 2006 10:12
Dear Coles

I thought I’d send you some free market research


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Beards

November 2nd 2006 09:11
Jonno tackles the big issues... here's his musing on beards


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Help

November 1st 2006 09:08
It’s funny, there are these series’ of books called ‘The Idiot’s Guide to’ and ‘For Dummies’ (EG. “An Idiot’s Guide to Dog Care”, “Windows XP for Dummies”, “An Idiot’s Guide to Breastfeeding”, “Self-Esteem for Dummies”, etc, etc), and they’ve both been huge successes as far as that sort of thing goes. And for years, here I am, operating under the misconception that people don’t like being called things like ‘Idiot’ and ‘Dummy’! What have I been doing? So, with this in mind, I set about correcting my mistake…

I walked down to the 7/11 around the corner from me and got a Hero roll, and when I bought it I said “Cheers retard!” and the guy got all offended! What’s going on? I don’t understand this topsy-turvy world anymore. I tried making my own series of guide-books too, but no one has so far been impressed with my “For Dumb Cunts” series, despite such easily-accessible and much-warranted titles like


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