AEIW
September 21st 2008 13:14
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I'm not inactive
January 9th 2008 11:49
I'm not inactive, I'm just resting because I'm so massively phat.
In the meantime, check out this awesome new Orble blog by Pat 1
/Books are for Losers
In the meantime, check out this awesome new Orble blog by Pat 1
/Books are for Losers
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Rice: War Criminal?
October 15th 2007 10:24
Pffft, who cares about Condoleeza Rice. Now that I have your attention I am here to talk you about the GOOD rice. Fried Rice.
I could eat rice three times a day. If I had such resources at my disposal I would cover my bed in cooked rice and roll around in it naked. Sure, I'd probably make sweet love with Condoleeza Rice too but for me the real deal is fried rice full of peas and carrots and (if I'm feeling saucy) pineapple.
If someone annoyed me I could fill my mouth with rice, suck on it's exquisite essence, and then spit said rice into said person's face. They'd be all like, "Ahhhh, rice!!!!!" and I'd be like, "Yeahhhhhhhh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyyyy that's the NICE rice!", and it would rule.
If I was going to get married I would take my girl by one arm and say, "Darling, tonight I am doing for you something quite special" and I would take her back to my place and we would have a candlelit meal with sweet horn music playing in the background and I would feed her rice. I would scoop it up and shovel it into her mouth and she would marry me.
Once I tried to toast rice in my toaster. It didn't work.
If I had kids I would give them rice to take to school in their lunchboxes and the other kids would be jealous because they didn't have rice and my kids would get better marks in class because the teacher would favour my kids for being multicultural. My kids would never get hungry because if they did I would just feed them more rice.
When I die my body will buried in a coffin full of rice. The rice would rejuvenate me because my body by then would be 99% rice from eating rice so much. I would burst out of my casket at the funeral, and rice would pour from my mouth and eyes and I would bellow "WHO WANTS RICE!" and everyone would run and scream from the funeral parlour.
By this point Australia would be at war with China, and China would be the world's number 1 superpower and the Australian Prime Minister (let's face it, it'll probably still be John Howard, and he'll be in his late 90s and he'll still be a clown) would be like "We'll never join you China, we hate Asians!" and I'll come into the fray, with rice still pouring from my eyes and mouth and ears and other places I won't mention, and I'll say "Guys, guys, we don't have to fight, look - rice" and I would empty my sleevs forth and rice would pour out like a beautiful fountain of rice and elderly John Howard would cry cause some of it will get into his eyes and the Chinese fuhrer will be laughing and he'll go "High five rice man!" and he'll decide not to invade Australia and let us just get on with eating rice.
Bad Rice
Good Rice
I could eat rice three times a day. If I had such resources at my disposal I would cover my bed in cooked rice and roll around in it naked. Sure, I'd probably make sweet love with Condoleeza Rice too but for me the real deal is fried rice full of peas and carrots and (if I'm feeling saucy) pineapple.
If someone annoyed me I could fill my mouth with rice, suck on it's exquisite essence, and then spit said rice into said person's face. They'd be all like, "Ahhhh, rice!!!!!" and I'd be like, "Yeahhhhhhhh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyyyy that's the NICE rice!", and it would rule.
If I was going to get married I would take my girl by one arm and say, "Darling, tonight I am doing for you something quite special" and I would take her back to my place and we would have a candlelit meal with sweet horn music playing in the background and I would feed her rice. I would scoop it up and shovel it into her mouth and she would marry me.
Once I tried to toast rice in my toaster. It didn't work.
If I had kids I would give them rice to take to school in their lunchboxes and the other kids would be jealous because they didn't have rice and my kids would get better marks in class because the teacher would favour my kids for being multicultural. My kids would never get hungry because if they did I would just feed them more rice.
When I die my body will buried in a coffin full of rice. The rice would rejuvenate me because my body by then would be 99% rice from eating rice so much. I would burst out of my casket at the funeral, and rice would pour from my mouth and eyes and I would bellow "WHO WANTS RICE!" and everyone would run and scream from the funeral parlour.
By this point Australia would be at war with China, and China would be the world's number 1 superpower and the Australian Prime Minister (let's face it, it'll probably still be John Howard, and he'll be in his late 90s and he'll still be a clown) would be like "We'll never join you China, we hate Asians!" and I'll come into the fray, with rice still pouring from my eyes and mouth and ears and other places I won't mention, and I'll say "Guys, guys, we don't have to fight, look - rice" and I would empty my sleevs forth and rice would pour out like a beautiful fountain of rice and elderly John Howard would cry cause some of it will get into his eyes and the Chinese fuhrer will be laughing and he'll go "High five rice man!" and he'll decide not to invade Australia and let us just get on with eating rice.
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Telemarketers - how I loathe thee and how I outsmart thee
April 9th 2007 04:41
Telemarketers. We all freakin' hate them, right? The only people who don't hate them are those who actually are them. And even that aint definite.
In my house, my home phone is in another room to my bedroom. If I am in my bedroom, writing a blog or something, and I hear the phone ring, I have to rush and run to it in the hope that I will get there before it rings four times. If it rings four times, it will go to messagebank... and, as around 50 percent of the population is incapable of leaving a message (what gives?), this means I will miss the call altogether[ Click here to read more ]
In my house, my home phone is in another room to my bedroom. If I am in my bedroom, writing a blog or something, and I hear the phone ring, I have to rush and run to it in the hope that I will get there before it rings four times. If it rings four times, it will go to messagebank... and, as around 50 percent of the population is incapable of leaving a message (what gives?), this means I will miss the call altogether
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Naughty Kids - How we can fix this.
April 5th 2007 10:49
Mother comes in to get some books. Little son runs around pulling books off tables, knocking them on the floor, runs off outside when mother tries to go to the counter to buy him books. She catches him and straps him into his pram, then he starts trying to pull some books off the table. Not once does the mother admonish him. I decide to offer her some advice
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Blood Pressure kid
March 28th 2007 10:59
Arghhhh!
Kid to mum, smelling plastic book, “It smells like blood pressure
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
the customer is not always right.
March 26th 2007 04:30
No GST for me!
Sometimes I feel as if I’ve slipped through a crack in the fabric of reality and have fallen through to a parallel universe where the normal manners of everyday human-interaction have been twisted into a bizarre parody of what they were.
For example, when I work in the bookstore, I will get customers who come up to me with a book they want to buy, but it’s like they’re angry with me for ‘making’ them buy the book. They’ll make snide comments about being ripped off, or won’t say ‘thank you’, or will be reluctant to hand me their money, or will argue over the price, or will berate me for the poor quality of my register’s receipts. This one guy wouldn’t leave because he felt the receipt the machine had printed was unacceptable. He said the ink was too faded and the itemized breakdown wasn’t detailed enough… now, really, what can I or any other human being do about that? I assured him that the receipt could be read clearly (he was holding it upside-down, hence his confusion and it’s ‘unreadability’), read it to him out loud, re-wrote the company’s ABN number on the back, and assured him that a tax agent would accept it. Eventually, after five minutes of waving the receipt at my face and waiting for a discount that was never going to come, he gave up and left. The dumb old shit
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Doing a poo on the floor of a fairly well-known store
March 18th 2007 12:19
Oooo! You did a poo! I am so angry!!!
When I worked at Target a few years ago these two kids came in. One of them was running around acting like an idiot, and I was told to keep an eye on him. Turns out he was acting as a decoy for his mate. While we were all watching this idiot run about hiding behind stuff and generally looking suss, his mate was off in the toy section taking a dump on the floor
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Why the Salvation Army can bite my arse
March 14th 2007 07:09
MATURE CONTENT
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
So I got into a fight the other night.
March 13th 2007 07:05
This is me, during the fight.
Once I was walking down the street and this asian dude comes over to me and goes, “Hey mate, you got a smoke?”. I didn’t have a smoke, and then all these other asian dudes suddenly came out of the bushes and they were all like, “Yo man, we’re the triads give us some fucken cigarettes already”. But I swear I don’t smoke! So they all start fighting me and stuff and I’m not a good fighter so I didn’t really stand a chance and then one of them pulls out this big machete and cuts my arm off. He cut my fucking arm off! I looked down and saw it on the ground, twitching, and blood started pissing out of my shoulder where my arm should’ve been, so I started screaming (as you do) and aimed the blood torrent at the nearest triad dude and he starts gagging cause all the blood is spraying in his mouth and I’m like, “Yeah man, I got AIDS!” so then they start screaming and running off and I’m spinning around like a sprinkler and getting them all. Then I picked up my arm and quickly ran home and got the sewing machine out and stitched my arm back on. Luckily, I hadn’t lost too much blood. It was a close one.
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Good times!
March 5th 2007 11:21
So I was at work and putting some things away. I was kneeling on the floor, shoving something or other into the storage bays we have under our shelves
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Stereo Man
March 1st 2007 04:43
It's evolution, baby!
I was catching the train home today, trying to read and not to fall asleep, when this guy sits down behind me and starts listening to his doof doof shite heaps loud on his portable stereo
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Fear of the Academy Awards
February 23rd 2007 09:38
This is a little announcement I wrote around the time of the Oscars last year, or it could've been the Oscars during the year before that.
It may have come to your attention that I have been absent from the internet for two days. Or it may not have (you blase fools[ Click here to read more ]
It may have come to your attention that I have been absent from the internet for two days. Or it may not have (you blase fools
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Nickelback suck so bad
February 22nd 2007 12:59
So I was at work the other day and this girl (late teens) comes waddling in buying some crappy thing or another, and I notice she's wearing a Nickelback t-shirt. There's no one else in the store, I'm going insane with boredom. I nod towards her shirt as I scan her book.
"Man, that band SUCKS[ Click here to read more ]
"Man, that band SUCKS
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Posted By: Luke - Category: Amazing True Stories
Moderated by Luke
