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April 2003

The 4 Bitter Guys: Pedanty, Nakedy, Double-Chinny, Beardy By Adam - 1:46 PM, Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 6 Comments

So anyway, because I've had so much on over the past few weeks, I couldn't be arsed shaving. Let it grow. Yeeeeeeeeah. No more shavin' for me sunshine. Anyway, after a couple of days I forgot about it. Meh. No shave, who cares. No big thing. Just a bit of rough. Thursday last week, it was pretty much a beard. Hmmm. Slightly different but not really. I frequently let it grow a week and shave it off. No biggie. Yesterday I left the house after four days of uni-induced hibernation. Comments from every direction. "Ugh, what's that??" "What have you done??" [Nothing positive, mind] "What the fuck's that on your face??" "Yuck! That's horrible!!" etc etc. Last night at uni was no better, with my tutor deciding not only to hassle me about it, but also to make it known to everyone who walked in the door. "Hi! Come in! Hey, look at beardy! Beardy-beardy!" So last night I got home, ran straight into the bathroom and shaved it off. Today everyone's asking me what happened. "Gone already?" "Why did you shave it off?" "Didn't you have a beard yesterday?" And now, here's my open message to the universe: SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT MY FACE!!!! That's all from me. Now read all about Michael's naked exploits with naked balding naked accountants, otherwise he'll be dark on me for gazumping him, and rightly so.

The Naked Post By Michael - 12:11 PM, Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 15 Comments

Today I had my first butt-naked discussion with an equally butt-naked 50 year old man. It was a proud moment in my life. "This one's hot", he said. "Ah, cheers mate." I said, walking towards his shower head. (And that's not a euphemism.) Good old gym showers. Is there anything quite as surreal? You spend your whole life going about your day to day business making sure that the only people that see you naked are lovers and doctors, protecting your naked body like some kind of sacred burial ground. When you get to a certain age, it's not even acceptable to let your parents see you naked any more. But somehow, communal showers at the gym have some mystical exception. At first, I thought it was kind of weird that people showered naked together so willy-nilly. You don't know who they are. They could be some group showering freak who just roams from communal shower to communal shower, leering at other people's bits. But then you think about how they could be doctors, or programmers, or accountants, or school kids, or anything, and it's kind of cool. One place to go where everybody is naked together. You know what? I'm naked right now. Naked.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck By Adam - 11:59 AM, Monday, April 28, 2003 - 12 Comments

After spending every spare waking moment of the past three weeks building a web site for a uni assignment, hitting an incredible number of brick walls on the way, and getting to this point with about 80% of it complete and working, it's due in three hours and the uni server's down. It's been reporting load problems since last night, but now it just isn't there at all. I have to get in there and edit about five hundred files to join the whole thing together before 5pm, but I can't access the fucking thing. So here I am, sat in front of this computer which I'm sick of the sight of, forced to wait for the server admins to fix the machine; and with every minute I wait, that's another minute less I have to get the bastard working. The worst part is, because this assignment has taken so long, there's another major assignment due next week which I haven't had time to start yet. If I fail something it won't be because I'm slack, but fat fucking lot of good that'll do the $1,000 I shelled out for this semester.

The forums, THE FORUMS!!! By Tim - 11:01 PM, Friday, April 25, 2003 - 0 Comments

Damn them! Before they came along we had more articles than "20 things blah blah crap crap". I even thought of my rules for renting an apartment before that shit, and it still got tarnished by it. Jebus, I think PHP should just be banned. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about, then SHOO!! We're geeks for chrisakes, just fuck off and read about your latest 5 litre (or liter for the bloody Americans*) Ford. If you don't know what a googol is, then you shouldn't be here, or on "Who wants to be a Millionaire?" *** * I may or may not actually have been born in America ** ** Asterisks next to stuff may or may not still be funny *** Forum in-joke

Suckingness By Adam - 2:34 PM, Friday, April 25, 2003 - 2 Comments

Things can really suck. Last weekend I spent three whole days sat in front of my PC, trying to get an assignment finished, and got nothing done. The dog next door barked nonstop the whole time and gave me an aneurism*, and I got so little sleep that I couldn't even concentrate on what was on telly. I even decided on a whim that I would quit my uni course and move to Greenland, where they don't have an IT industry. Today I've done loads of assignment work, the dog next door has only barked about three times all day, I had a thoroughly delicious roast chicken lunch, there's beer in the fridge, and beside my feet is more chocolate than I could eat in a day without developing the runs and shitting myself to death. Ahh. Sorry this isn't funny or interesting. I'll make up for it next week by running through the forums wearing nothing but a doyle and a lime green dayglo bowler hat. * claim may be fabricated to dramatise anecdote

What happens after leaving 4 Bitter Guys By Tim - 9:56 AM, Saturday, April 19, 2003 - 3 Comments

Well, we could look at Ches, but I think the pictures in the forum here say it all. Then there's Koko. Murderous wench, how dare she use her fame from here to go on to be a successful music artist! She must've done a lot of schmoozing (you know what I mean) to get so many people to collaborate. I am truly hurt.

What Michael's forgetting... By Adam - 2:19 PM, Friday, April 18, 2003 - 4 Comments

...is that blasphemy isn't appreciated by those of us who choose to follow the Lord's way. Jesus died for our sins. That's right, He actually died so that we could be saved. Of course it looked like He was nailed to a cross, stuck up in the air and left to die against his will, but in actual fact He let them do all that to Him. And do you know why? Because He's the son of God, and He was put on this earth to protect us from evil and save our souls, and that's exactly what He did. He even proved it when, two days later, He came back from the dead. Yes, He rose again. Today is the most holy day of the christian calendar, and it's our responsibility to pay our deepest respects to He who saved us all. He who fought for us when we were destined for eternal damnation. He who resisted temptation and delivered us from evil. He who loves us all, even though we are all sinners. Even Michael, the dirty fucker. Because He is good. He is pure and divine. He can crack a stiffy like fury when he's up for a challenge. And do you know why? Because He's a bloke, that's why. He has a man's needs. If His fists weren't nailed to that plank of wood He'd be up there, hammering away like there was no tomorrow. Mind, I wouldn't want to be the bloke nailed to the cross in front of Him. That's some holy water I could do without, thanks very much. <spurt spurt spurt> Bloke: Argh!! Jesus Christ, what did you do that for?? JC: Sorry mate, I was rising for the good of mankind. Bloke: Not much good for my kind mate, this'll never come out. Another bloke: Joy to the world, the lord is cum... JC: Watch it sunshine. Bloke: What's with the capital H all the time? Why can't you be a normal 'he' like everyone else? Another bloke: Yeah. Oy, don't flick the Lord's spunk onto me, arsehole. Bloke: Sorry. JC: Because I am the son of God. I am the almighty redeemer, and I will rise again to... Bloke: Again?? Don't you fucking dare mate, otherwise I'll be off this cross and down your throat in a flash. JC: Like to see you try. Another bloke: Knock it off you two. <spurt spurt spurt> William Shakespeare: Oh, shit, sorry. Bloke: Oh for Christ's sake. JC: What?? Bloke: Not you, this futuristic-looking playwright over here. JC: Aren't you supposed to not exist yet? What are you doing here? William Shakespeare: Research. Bloke: On a cross? In the first century? In Syria? With a stiffy? William Shakespeare: Oh for Christ's sake, shut the fuck up! JC: Stop using my name in vain. William Shakespeare: Christ Christ. Christ Christ Christ. Christ Christ Christ Christ Christ Christ Christ. Another bloke: Oh knock it off you two. Bloke: Don't encourage them. That's what started this whole mess. <spurt spurt spurt> Bloke: All right, who was that? Serena Williams: Sorry. Ahhh, religious satire. Is there anything it can't do?

Boring Friday By Michael - 10:05 AM, Friday, April 18, 2003 - 11 Comments

Nothing's open. See what you've got in your fridge right now? That's it. That's all you're gunna be eating for the next day. I'm bored. There's fuck-all on TV. This isn't Good Friday. Maybe we can rename it to Boring Friday. We could change history too. Boring Friday was the day Jesus got really bored of doing Jesus stuff like performing healing miracles, and fighting satan with a slingshot, and shit like that, and so he decided to go to a strip club, but none were open because everything was fucking closed, so he just thought about going to a strip club instead. Then he sat around on his couch for awhile in his underwear eating a block of cheese, because he forgot to buy bread and milk the day before, and now everything was shut, and he couldn't even miracle his cheese into something tasty because he didn't have his super powers yet.

Remember When, with Bruce & Phil By Adam - 6:14 AM, Wednesday, April 16, 2003 - 8 Comments

Remember way back in the '80s when you first saw a CD? It was tiny, and it was flat! Flatter than records! And you couldn't see the groove, but you could see tiny concentric lines where the tracks divided. You'd see a bloke in a shop holding a CD, and you'd stare at it in stark wonder, enthralled by the magic of it. The bright rich colours reflecting off the surface. The mysterious big hole in the centre. The fact that it was one sided. Then someone would put one into a player, and press a button -- one button -- and thirty seconds later, perfect music would come out. It even had a little clock, so you could see how long the track had been playing. And then he'd press the FF button and the music would go all choppy, and then he'd press the TRACK SKIP button, and twenty seconds later it would start playing the next track right at the very beginning! Without having to move the needle! And it spun so quickly! And then, months later, you'd get a brand new CD player in your house, and you'd spend ages just standing there pressing buttons, making magic things happen with the music, ejecting the CD tray over and over and over, and staring for hours at all the beautiful colours, and the way they danced about when you tilted the disc. And when you got a hair on the disc, you'd pop it in and play it, and it would work! No jumping, no skipping, and when the laser passed over the hair, you couldn't hear any noise at all! But the best thing was, somehow they managed to get 74 minutes of music on one side! 74 minutes! That's three whole sides of a record! And it would spin so fast! How did it make 74 minutes of perfect sound when it was spinning so fast? And the groove was so tiny you couldn't even see it! Wow! Yesterday I cracked the shits because it took more than two seconds for my CD player to find track 14.

Not very funny... By Tim - 9:20 AM, Monday, April 14, 2003 - 13 Comments

...but I thought I'd move the powereating stuff out of the way. About 6 months ago, I was in Europe about to propose to my unsuspecting girlfriend when the bag I was using just fell apart. Undeterred, I rang my insurance company who refused to lift a finger to help me, who subsequently denied my claim on returning to Australia. BTW: The company that shafted me was CoverMore (also known as TravelSure). Fucking avoid them like the plague. They also fucked over my sheila and her family on a claim they made. Wankers. So anyway, I'm in Brussels trying to find a new suitcase. Lucky for me Brussels is the home of Samsonite luggage. (weird bit number 1) So anyway I pick a shop at random and bargain down a pretty sweet bag. I then put in a tax refund request while I'm there. I get home, wonder what happened to it and why it never appeared on my credit card. Ah well I think... s'if I can do anything about it now. Then out of nowhere: 11 Apr 2003 VISA REFUND FABIOLA BRUXELLES EUR 27.36 - 48.26 What. The. Fuck? Summary of the story: Brussels is weird. Shit, this is getting to be a really crap news post. The End.

Powerpost By Michael - 10:57 AM, Thursday, April 10, 2003 - 37 Comments

"A 15 minute powernap could save your life. TAC" A truck drove by me with this written on it. Why didn't they just say "A 15 minute nap could save your life"? What the fuck is a powernap? Do you pull over, cross your arms tightly and jam your eyes shut, only to wake up 15 minutes later, refreshed and ready to drive again? And then after that, do you powerdrive to your powerdestination? Do you powereat? You know what I think? I think TAC can powereat my cock.

DVD reviewers existed in the 19th century! By Adam - 2:44 PM, Wednesday, April 9, 2003 - 9 Comments

Yesterday I was going through old stuff in an antique shop, and found a review of H. G. Wells's The War of the Worlds, dated 1898: This book is a terrible transfer from the original master. The lettering is uneven throughout, and enormous blemishes make the text almost unreadable in certain lighting conditions, particularly on page 41. I understand this page is crucial to the plot, because it says something about Martians killing people or some such, and if you're reading this book on the way to church in the back of a horse and cart you may have difficulty making out the word 'with' on the seventh line of the page. The letter 'f' is particularly blocky in the first three chapters, and small black marks are abundant throughout. The first edition comes in a cardboard sleeve, which in this day and age is unacceptable. I cannot place this book on my bookshelf due to its size, so ensure your bookshelf is compatible with this edition before making a purchase. The text in this book is available only in English, so our friends in Europe will not be able to read the story about Martians or whatever. No captions are included in any language, eliminating all deaf readers. There are few extras. An author biography and list of previous works are not sufficient to make this novel a worthwhile purchase. Publishers need to wake up to the fact that extras are fast becoming standard in publishing, and consumers won't stand for this hastily-assembled effort. Summary This is a dreadful print of a tale involving Martians or something. There are no extras worth discussing here.

Thought for the day By Michael - 10:29 AM, Tuesday, April 8, 2003 - 18 Comments

On my way to work this morning, I drove past a sign that read "ELF STORAGE", and I started thinking about how, even in 2003, society is still segregating magical creatures from humans.

Ahhhh... finally, some relief. By Michael - 5:37 PM, Monday, April 7, 2003 - 0 Comments

Bloody hell. I've been meaning to write something for the front page for the last few weeks, but every time I get to the main page I think "Oh, I'll take a quick peek in the forum." and all my creative energy is sapped by the time I get to posting news. That, and the fact there is no news, is what gives me writers constipation. I am unable to shit words. With that in mind, I shall take the coward's news post option and give the forum a shameless plug. There's plenty of chicks* and the water is warm, so dive in now! Make a splash: Post a thread with a picture of you nude. That'll raise an eyebrow or two. (Or phallus.) If anyone is contemplating entering the game industry, let me give you a subtle piece of advice: Don't. Your meat will stay fresher for longer in the freezer. I was at work until 6:30am from the night before a few days ago. Driving home was great: Since I normally commute out of the city every day, I got to drive back home (inbound) in peak hour practically delerious. I actually walked into my bedroom just as my alarm clock went off. And this isn't the first time it's happened either. Once I got home at 10:30am the next day. By now you've probably forgotten about that absolutely pathetic euphemism about meat in the freezer above, and rightly so. It doesn't mean a fucking thing; I just threw it in there to keep everybody on their toes. I like euphemisms. * chicks = guys

My apologies. By Miles - 5:42 PM, Wednesday, April 2, 2003 - 6 Comments

I have a few things to confess. Imagine, if you will, that it's 6am in the morning. You've gotten up at 4am to catch a flight out of Brisbane to be in Melbourne in time for a really important business meeting, and you're fucking knackered. You're on Virgin, so all they serve you is a crappy little muffin and a juice that you have to pay $6 for, so you've had that and now you've finally catching up on a bit of sleep, having sweet dreams involving the Olsen twins and tanning oil. Ahhhhh... Next thing you know, some fucking DOLT drops his can of coke on your head trying to give it back to the flight attendent. A few drops flick out and stain your white shirt. You wake up and can't get back to sleep. What a fucking idiot. I'm sorry sir, but that dolt was me. A thousand pardons for your inconvenience. Also, I'm very, very sorry to the guy at Melbourne Uni who probably received one of the most incoherent and unlikely messages ever. The guy knows who I am, chats with me every now and again, we've got each others phone numbers, but we never call or SMS each other. How odd do you think it would be for him to get an SMS from me rambling about him picking up chicks, University of QLD pub crawls, and how great his band is? Whoops, wrong Michael! I swear, it'll never happen again.

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