Will Type For Food



kidattypewriter

Friday, April 22, 2016

Haikus are a gateway drug: a public service announcement

 Haikus are a gateway drug. 
"Just three lines, and you'll be fine". 
KIDS, DON'T LISTEN TO THE LIES. 
Soon you'll do them all the time. 
Next thing you know, you're doing odes - 
The heavy stuff. IT'S JUST NOT COOL. 
SAY NO TO HAIKU WHILE YOU CAN - 
And sign up for accounting school. 

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Antsy disestablishmentarians

If you get a whole bunch of contrarians in a room together, what happens? Do they all argue it out to see who is the top contrarian, or do they all slyly agree with one another in a passive aggressive attempt to piss one another off? Or does something more shocking happen, and they find that, having opposed orthodox opinion for so long, they are all genuinely in agreement with one another and they never need to start arguing at all? Or - in the somewhat more likely event of them actually not finding any point of agreement at all - what happens if someone actually says "we can't agree on anything at all, can we?" Would it, like, cause the universe to explode or something, or would they all avoid catching one another's gaze and instead look down to their feet as they shuffle awkwardly about the room?

And, while you're all thinking about that, what's the collective noun for a group of contrarians anyway? A disagreement? A beg-to-differ-ance? A Wellactually?

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Obsolete units of measurement

pubit - as long as a standard Imperial pubic hair.

Though of course a question remains: curly or straight?

Thursday, April 14, 2016

I drink to forget, but never forget to drink

ODE TO THE FORGETFUL DRINKING OF A CUP OF COFFEE 

My morning coffee cup is 
Not yet full 
I have become so very 
Fretful 
I need to get my big warm 
Wet full 
But now I drink it in a fit 
Forgetful 
Alas! I search for it, 
Regretful. 

 Alternative title: "Don't give up your day job".

(Thanks for the inspiration Shelley!)

Saturday, April 09, 2016

Lesser-known examples of onomatopaeia

 flomp - the sound of a cat taking up too much room on the bed. All night.

geklangbeplonkenbonk - the sound another German verb makes as it thuds its way through the memory part of the brain, crashes through the understanding bit, flounders about in the confusion and exasperation centres, and comes out at the other end.

snilp - the sound of another one of Tim's socks quietly disappearing in the night.

humber - the quietly disapproving noise of a pile of slowly accumulating unwashed clothes.

conblustergration - the silent, yet terrifyingly audible, sound of 1000 angry mainstream media blog commentators on an article about racism and celebrities.

Thursday, April 07, 2016

Balance maintained

Living with vegetarians: the Baron bursts into the study and says, "do you want some quince bacon?'

Living with carnivores: Beatrice the cat finds a mouse, eats the bottom half, and leaves the rest twitching on the front door step.

 Life. It's all about the balance, maaaaaaaaaaan.

Friday, April 01, 2016

The queue

The queue was long, and out the door; 
Each member wished to be before 
Each other member, right behind, 
(Who were, as well, of that same mind). 
 What were the queue all queuing too? 
They queued to join another queue. 

Sunday, March 27, 2016

The land of the rising polka dot

How great is the Japanese flag? It's a big red spot. There should be more spotty nation flags. It would make the world a more cheery place.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

Earth hour poems

Brunswick party
Someone announces "It's Earth hour!"
Shit

Earth hour
We all practice being one
With darkness

Advantages/disadvantages
In the dark
No-one can see
You're a Goth

Advantages/disadvantages
We get to light candles
A small gesture to our own inherent
Pyromania

Advantages/disadvantages
The conversation
Naturally enough
Turns
Towards suicide

Advantages/disadvantages
Half the room gets to use
The torchlight function on
The iPhone 6

Confused guests pile in
To pitch black house
Earth hour.

Monday, March 07, 2016

House bachelor for the week

The Baron has gone to Sydney for a week, so I am pootling about the house indulging in that most simple of pleasures - batching. Let's survey how things have gone so far.

*For dinner tonight, for want of anything better to do, I chucked some stuff at some butter on the stovetop. Then when that was done I added cheese and pasta. Yum.

*For dinner tomorrow night I will be scrounging off friends. Double yum.

*For dinner the night after, pizza. And beer. Actually, there was beer every night - that really doesn't need to be said.

*I've been keeping the house super clean. Just two hours ago I ran a sink full of hot water and squirted some detergent into it. Then I threw all the dirty things I could find in it, including: plates, knives, forks, spoons, bowls, cups, coffee machine parts, honey straining equipment, and socks. Some day I may even take them out again.

*I just picked the espresso machine off the floor, and, noticing that it had flour on it, I dusted the flour back onto the floor. A place for everything, and for everything a place!

*There is a badger in the bathroom, which I am using to catch all the potoroos that have got into medicine drawer.

*I am lounging around on the couch in Australia flag underwear. But then, I do that all the time, anyway.

That's my entry, then

Our crush on poetry continues unabated here at Common Good Books, and to prove it the proprietor is putting his money where his mouth is. Garrison Keillor is offering five thousand dollars in prize money to the seven winners of “‘Poems of Gratitude: The Fourth Annual Common Good Books Poetry Contest.”
  Enter "Poems of Gratitude: The Fourth Annual Common Good Books Poetry Contest."

I gave my love a cold,
She gave me a bag of snot.
 Now we both say to the other
"Hey, thanks a bloody lot".

No point entering poets, I think I've already got this competition in the bag.

Friday, March 04, 2016

I'm too sexy for this poem

I'm too sexy for this poem
I take a sexy selfie for
My sexy selfie shelf ,
But that selfie doesn't match with
My inner sexy self. 

Should I take a second selfie
With more sexy sexy sex? 
Should I sex my inner self up
With more special sex effects? 

Should I make my sexy selfie
Take my sexy sexy pants off
While challenging my inner self
To a sexy sexy dance off? 

It's hard to be so sexy
It's hard to be so glam - 
Cos I'm just so super sexy
I'm more sexy than I am. 

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Brewing demystified

Honest definitions of brewing terms

Yeast - weird shit.

Bacteria - more weird shit.

Wild yeast - fucking weird shit.

Starter - weird shit, fucking.

Pellicle - weird shit done by weird shit.

Krausen - Ew! Gross! Just disgusting, man!

Esters - farts done by weird shit.

Carbonation - what the weird shit shits beneath all that weird shit.

Trub - weird shit, asleep, in more weird shit shit.

Secondary Fermentation - Weird Shit 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Beer/wine/cider/mead - what's left over after the weird shit gets the shits and shits off. Yum!

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

She was a psychopath who liked scones

"She was a right-wing, awful woman". Sentences like this are just so strange. It's such a non-sequitur. It's a bit like saying "She was a psychopath who liked scones". Or "he was a tyrant who once patted a cat". Of course it is really trying to use "right-wing" as a near synonym for "awful" - it's repetition for rhetorical effect - but it just doesn't work. But can you imagine if people really did use insults like this in parliament? "That's so Liberal of you!" (to a member of the Liberals). "Don't be such a Green." (to one of the Greens), "When did you become so progressive?" (to a Labor member). It's kinda what they were elected to do, after all.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Du schmeckst so gut

Here, with apologies to my vast German audience, is my German verse epic in preparation for Valentine's Day entitled "Du bist mein Lieblingsessen."


Du bist mein Lieblingsessen

Du bist mein Lieblingsessen.
Meinen Obstsalat und Haferbrei
Und (doch, ich habe nicht vergessen!)
Mein Toast mit Butter und ein Ei.

Mein Frühstück, meine Hauptmahlzeit,
Meinen Kaffee, Meinen Porter,
Mein Scheschisches Himmelreich,
Und jetzt, meine Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte.

Du schmeckst so gut, mein erst, mein Wurst,
Mein Tomate rot, mein Milch und Brot,
Meinen Hunger, meinen Durst
Du bist, immer und so immer fort.

Metaphorische.

UPDATE! - It has come to my attention that I may have made even more lamentable errors in this than I thought I had originally. I will leave the poem up in its current state but it may require a lot more revision before I take it out in company again. 

Self-Valentine poem

"It can be a challenge to wake up on Valentine's Day on your own." 
This weekend two women are doing away with finding love and focusing on self-love. Valentine's Day: Life coach says do away with finding love and instead romance yourself - ABC

A self-Valentine poem

My and myself went out on a date.
He looked in my eyes and he said that "I'm great!" 
I caught at his hand and I whispered "You too!"
So right then I got married to me (as you do).
The wedding was perfect but at the reception
I caught me making love to a mirror's reflection -
We broke up that day. I was sad. He was hot.
And who am I now I'm the man that I'm not?

Sunday, February 07, 2016

Thunk

If being 'grumpy' were such a bad thing, then why is the word so lovely? People who are really serious about wanting less grumpiness should try to get the word changed to some new and unlovely neologism, the examples of which occur every day in politics and the office. As it is, there is hardly anything nicer than being labelled with such a pleasant and homely word as 'grumpy'; there ought to be more of it.

Friday, February 05, 2016

Never encourage them

Positive heckling: the worst sort of heckling.

Good on you for trying!
We all have to start somewhere! (Before you have even started).
This is the best thing I've heard all second!
Don't feel bad! (Said for no reason at all).
Interesting!
Yay!
That must have been good for your self-esteem!
Don't listen to them! (No-one has said anything).
Give yourself a pat on the back!
(Breaks into applause as you reach the third line in a 30 line piece).

Encouragement is never something that should be encouraged, people.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

To do list for Australia Day

To do list for Australia Day

Take the notes off your echidna
Polish up your kangaroo
Update your dingo's rego
Plug in your wombats, too. 

Put your ocker through the washer. 
Hang it on the windowsill. 
Give marsupials an extra pouch.
Give a platypus the bill. 

Wear pavlova to a party - 
Say it's just fancy dress. 
But most important, don't forget -
Repaint your OH&S.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

The advantages and disadvantages of nudism

The advantages and disadvantages of nudism

1. It's nice and cool to let all weathers
Play on your nipples and your nethers.

2. It's nice and cool - until it's cold.

3. It's lots of fun for young and old.

4: But: mum won't like it if she's told.

5. It feels delightful to be free
For breakfast, dinner, lunch, and tea.

6. You could get caught in nooks and chinks
Or doors, drawers, cupboards, laundry sinks.

7. Sunshine gives you a pleasant zing.

8. But sunburn, also, is A Thing.

9. It's very economically efficient.*

10. What if, by chance, the neighbours see?

11. What if, by chance, the neighbours see?

12. It's such a very simple way
To be at one with Nature every day

13. Being nude, you cannot wear a tie.

*No rhyme: this line is self-sufficient.  

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Challenge of the day

Challenge of the day: write a clean, inoffensive, family friendly limerick beginning with the following two lines:

Delvene's delightful declivities
Had some rather alarming proclivities...

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

From the 10 habits of highly effective Business-Bonobos...

... 11. The Business-Bonobo knows the value of money well. As soon as he or she comes into a little money, they roll all over it to ensure their pheromones are all over their savings. Also acceptable: pissing, spitting, shitting on the money. This way, potential competitors are deterred from taking a share.

12. A Business-Bonobo is never without their banana telephone. That way, they can stay in touch at all times with other Business-Bonobos. Also, they're good for snacks.

13. Work disputes are easily resolved. Sex. Also, disputes with technology. Sex. Also sexual feelings for fellow department members. Sex, obviously. Also H & S disputes. Sex. Sex. Sex....

Today, I observed a sporty girl bear an oversized test tube containing what looked like water with what appeared to be pond scum in the top of it

Today, I observed a sporty girl bear an oversized test tube containing what looked like water with what appeared to be pond scum in the top of it. She took a pointlessly big plastic straw, and proceeded to stir the appeared-to-be-pond-scum into the what-looked-like-water, and then plonked the straw right in and took a big contented slurp.

Our interest in health has given the world some very disturbing foods in the past hundred odd years, but none, I submit, quite so disturbing as a test tube full of appears-to-be-pond-scum on top of what-looks-like-water. The adage 'If it tastes good, it can't be good for you' these days seems to submit itself to some flexibility these days: 'If it tastes yuck and looks disgusting, it must be brilliant for you', perhaps. Certainly, I never thought I would see the day when people would present themselves in front of me drinking gigantic beakers full of pond scum. What happened to friendly old men drinking unknown substances out of brown paper bags, for heavens' sakes?

I blame Tony Abbott. Or Malcolm Turnbull. Or Daniel Andrews. Or whoever it is one blames for such things at the present time. Whatever. I blame them all.

Thursday, January 07, 2016

Innocent interpretations of internet acronyms

MILF - Man, I Like Flamingos!

PRON - Pickles R Okay, Neville!

IWSN - Isn't Wilma So Nice?

PORN - Pickles, Or Radishes - Neat!

WTF -  Why, That's Fine!

NIFOC - Now, I'm Filigreeing Our Crochet.

TMIY - Thanks, Mate! Igloos! Yay!

WTFF - Wendy,  Those Fantastic Flowers!

Thursday, December 31, 2015

My new year's resolution

To open a twitter account and make only one tweet of one character's length, consisting of an obsolete punctuation mark, and a spelling mistake.

Happy new year.

Curses! Spoiled again!

A couple of weeks ago I was having a chat with some folks around the topic of movie spoilers. One guy was saying he hated spoilers, did everything he could to avoid them; another was saying she didn't mind spoilers at all actually, no problem with them. My position was slightly different: hey, sometimes spoilers are the only good thing about a movie; I will actively go out of my way to avoid a movie and read the spoilers instead. Case in point, the upcoming Batman vs Superman movie, or even more case in point, the never-ending series of Star Wars sequels.

These films present me with a curious paradox: I see the previews, I read about everyone else's excitement, and as a result I get all excited myself and want to know how they end. But I find I have no desire, nonetheless, to see the films. That would be a waste of precious hours in my life; the carpe diem poets advise man to seize the day, to Gather ye rosebuds while ye may/ old time is still a-flying - not Go to a bloody movie theatre for two hours and sit through another tedious collection of special effects just so you know how it all ends. You don't actually have to endure your way through to the end of Star Wars episode 1-3 and Darth Vader/Anakin's hilariously anti-climactic "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" to realise that, aside from filling in a few plot details that people could probably guess anyway, the films are devoid of any artistic interest whatsoever. In fact, Star Wars Episode Whogivesa or Batman vs Superman are hardly movies at all; they are plot twists mistaking themselves for movies.

So to the plot summary on the Wikipedia page I go, then. My favourite part of the plot summary would have to be.... I'm not sure, but my least favourite part would have to be the fact that they've (oh come ON don't tell me you didn't know I was going to include some spoilers in this post) INVENTED ANOTHER BLOODY DEATH STAR FOR THE FILM, I mean it may just be a plot twist mistaking itself for a proper cinematic experience but the least it could be is a NEW damned plot twist. (It's not even original in its unoriginality; Lucas reinvented the Death Star in Return of the Jedi). The most amusing would have to be the fact that evil kid Ren/Ben whatever appears to be having ongoing chats with his dead Dark Side mentor Darth Vader. (Not sure about this last part - they keep on fidding with the Wiki plot summary).

It would be amusing to go on in this way and review the plot summaries of all the crappy films that I don't want to see but want to know the ending too, like Batman vs Superman, but its plot synopsis is still too coy because the stupid non-film hasn't come out yet. I'm guessing neither of them wins. So there goes my career as a Wikipedia plot summary reviewer, then.

Oh, by the way, SPOILERS! This blog post contains SPOILERS! Did I do that right guys?

Monday, December 28, 2015

A DISQUISITION concerning the ETIQUETTE of FARTING

We were talking of farts, Thassalius, Quintalian and I, since it was not possible to do the reverse, and anyway, it is our custom to deliberate upon important matters before puffing contentedly on our evening pipes.

"I maintain," said Quintalian, "that farting is a way of marking territory by humans, just as animals mark their territory by means of odour. Observe, for instance, the dog, thoughtfully leaving his or her essence upon a tree, so that other dogs may KNOW they hath been there. Consider, too, the ways of the bee; who, in swarming season, is guided by the scents of the scouts who have gone before her, and thereby establishes a safe new hive for her sisters and brothers. So, too, we may draw an analogy with the human animal, whereby they, in their natural environment - such as the desk at their office, for instance, or the elevator they are sharing with their boss - mark their territory, perhaps unconsciously, by releasing a smell, a natural pheromone, into the environment, that will prove attractive to their family, and repellent to their enemies."

"A judicious observation, Quintalian", said I. "It is certainly true that my own farts frequently smell pleasant, whereas those of my enemies - who are many - or those who do not know me - who are sadly more numerous still - are abhorrent to my organs of olfactory apprehension. And yet, I find that the universal social contract is to deplore the practice of flatulence, wherever it may occur. What sayest thou, Thassalius?"

"It is certainly not a practice that I find to be impolite", murmured Thassalius. "For, wherein do true manners lie? In not giving offence to our neighbour, our friend, by giving false witness unto them - or, in being generous to them in their needs, and courteous to them in their wishes. But I find the practice of farting plays no part in this; for what one man finds disturbing, the other finds no trouble with; and what is of so little consequence can give no real offence. 'Tis but a bubble, Sir!"

"It would indeed prove to be a fit subject for an ESSAY, PAPER, or DISQUISITION, Thassalius," I said.

"Perhaps we may look forward to it further in your own productions, Palpatius", put in Quintalian. "I, for one, find it easier to avoid giving even the appearance of offence to my fellow humans; I wait until I am out of their company before letting NATURE take the air."

(It struck me hereabouts, of course, that whereas humans may make a great show of taking offence, other animals, more sensitive to the aromas around them, may already be well aware of the digestive productions of HOMO SAPIENS. Would not, say, bees regard the gaseous emissions of humans in a benevolent light, as one of the many fragrances of NATURE, just as humans regarded their own hive smell as an example of the universal goodness? If I had had more time to frame these thoughts into words I may well have said them to Quintalian, but here Thassalius came in with another striking thought.)

"Indeed," cried Thassalius, "I frequently regard the farts of others as a compliment. For what more simple way could there be to make expression of your comradely trust and the familial bond than to give way to an expression of wind in the company of others?"

"How true!" I enthused. "Thassalius, thou hast made a great discovery! And, paradoxically, does not one find even amongst the most frivolous of companions - school boys and the like - a desire to bond through their mutual flatulence, even by producing the odour that will be the most repugnant of sensation to one another? But who knows where this laudable desire for mutual betterment may lead them? Through their dedication to finding the most potent herbs, the most odiferous saps, the most productive of the plants and beans, that they may not - unbidden - make a Great Scientific Discovery?"

This being said, the three of us, done with our deliberating and asseverating and cogitating, drew out our pipes as one, and let the clouds wreathe up around us and ascend into the heavens above.

HERE ENDETH THE DISQUISITION


Friday, December 25, 2015

Christmas doggerel #2

I am a sexy Santa in my sexy Santa suit
I looked me in the mirror and I thought I looked quite cute
I hop into your stockings girls every year or so
Some like it when I do that but some say I'm just a 
HO HO HO! 

Christmas doggerel

Doggerel. An ancient verse form. It's just like a villanelle. Written by a dog.

Dear Santa Claus
My Christmas wish
Is nothing more
Than an old dead fish. 

Friday, December 18, 2015

The Twelve Days of why do we even call it Christmas Christ was just a myth and he wasn't even born then and anyway it's actually a pagan festival but it's all about consumption and greed and white colonialism in the context of late capitalism really please pass the pudding

Time for a Christmas sing along, kids! You know the tune! It's that old favourite

The Twelve Days of why do we even call it Christmas Christ was just a myth and he wasn't even born then and anyway it's actually a pagan festival but it's all about consumption and greed and white colonialism in the context of late capitalism really please pass the pudding


On the first day of why do we even call it Christmas Christ was just a myth and he wasn't even born then and anyway it's actually a pagan festival but it's all about consumption and greed and white colonialism in the context of late capitalism really please pass the pudding 
My true love sent to me 
A greeting card.

On the second day... 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the third day... 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the fourth day... 
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the fifth day... 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the sixth day... 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the seventh day... 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the eighth day... 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the ninth day... 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity 
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


On the tenth day... 
A ten day holiday in France 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


On the eleventh day... 
A 11.30 in the morning sleep in 
A ten day holiday in France 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


On the twelfth day... 
Twelve people who you love and adore and only want the best for and who really make you laugh at a glorious Christmas lunch 
A 11.30 in the morning sleep in 
A ten day holiday in France 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


Tuesday, December 15, 2015

NASA launches first Creme Caramel into space after holding a dinner party and accidentally stuffing up the dessert course

NASA has launched the first creme caramel into space after holding a dinner party and accidentally stuffing up the dessert course.

"The initial stages were promising," said NASA spokesman John Spokesman, "But then it stuffed up in the oven when water bubbled into the pot, ruining the custard mixture. But the launch itself went really, really well, and our dinner party guests made a makeshift dessert on the spot by toasting marshmallows in the blast of the rockets".

The creme caramel, currently rocketing past the moon, carries with it a capsule with messages for any potential alien species it may encounter, such as "never make this bloody thing!" and "It's not worth the bother!"

Saturday, December 12, 2015

Ewsome.

I didn't make it to the Dan today (insert suitably melancholy emoticon here) but I did just perform this impromptu poem:

Now I have to do my business in my business-doing place.
Now I am doing my business. This is my business-doing face*.
Now I have taken my business out of the business case.
Now I have done my business in the business-doing place.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Or should that be Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww?

*What's the emoticon for that, do you reckon? 

May your day be nourished and fructified by the presence of this ASCII sperm made out of commas

It has come to my attention that a search of the internet for an ASCII sperm image made out of commas will be unsuccessful. This is my attempt to rectify this gap in our cultural capital.


Behold : the ASCII comma sperm.

Monday, November 30, 2015

In the beginning was the code

Are selfies really real?
Who's the I behind the Pod?
What's the G in OMG?
Is it Gosh or is it God?

Do we float in cyberspace,
Random bits and bytes and blogs,
Are we acronyms and coding
Amidst pics of cats and dogs?

As we peer into your Facebook,
What's the status to your Status?
Has it gone the way of MySpace?
Do you know but won't update us?

In the far far distant future,
Our accounts long since deleted,
Will someone leave a comment?
Will we be (perhaps) retweeted?

We are pixels built on pixels,
But still I hear the call
To find that perfect YouTube
That will explain it all.

On this day in history....

This day, 30 November 2015, marks the 100th anniversary of the official passing of the Women's Mansplaination Act in Australian Parliament. This important bill gave women everywhere the right to listen to men giving fulsome explanations of things they already knew. Isn't history great?

Saturday, November 28, 2015

Rumours that Malcolm Turnbull is actually drinking cocktails of artistic tears out of a golden diamond-encrusted beaker have been unsubstantiated

WTFF News - Australian Government announces the creation of a new fund of artistic tears
The Australian Government has announced the creation of a new fund of artists' tears, in an attempt to boost their support amongst the artistic community

"The National Endowment of Artistic Grief, or NEAG, will revitalise the artistic community, providing them with plentiful supply of delicious grief, torment, agony, and pain for the years ahead", said Mr Turnbull in a statement yesterday, adding that "this precious chalice of depression, desolation and despair showed that the Coalition government was the true friend of artists in Australia."

However, Bill Shorten hit back this morning, claiming that "this fresh supply of artistic tears is taking away from the pre-existing Australian Foundation of Artistic Sadness, and proves that once again the conservatives are ripping off valuable artists." He added: "If elected, a Labor Government will ensure all Artistic Tear stocks are returned to AFAS, along with the addition of fresh grants of sadness for our long-suffering artists."

The statements by Turnbull and Shorten were met with dismay by the artistic community, with artistic leaders sobbing plentifully when asked for responses to the new National Endowment of Artistic Grief policy.

"It's not enough!" claimed one artist.
"It's just too much!" claimed another.
A third artist asked for handkerchiefs.
A fourth artist said: "These are not true Australian tears. I have it on good authority that these tears were made in European sweatshops by underpaid artists. Why aren't we paying Australian artists to cry on our behalf?" before bursting into presumably demonstrative tears.

Rumours that Malcolm Turnbull is actually drinking cocktails of artistic tears out of a golden diamond-encrusted beaker have been unsubstantiated at time of going to press.

However, when contacted by the media, he did make slobbering sounds while licking his lips.
Email: timhtrain - at - yahoo.com.au

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