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September 2002
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Gender Bias
By Adam - 12:13 PM, Monday, September 30, 2002 - 3 Comments |
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Women are allowed to call us dickheads, but if we call them cuntheads they get really cross. |
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HyperAdam!
By Adam - 5:57 AM, Monday, September 30, 2002 - 6 Comments
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My jokes are crap at the best of times, but when I go a week without sufficient sleep and drink beer, I transform into...
HyperAdam!
HyperAdam! guarantees 26% more bounce, 38% more irritation, 63% less wit, and is total crap at Halo. Fortunately the real Adam is a Halo god, but this rare and unique talent must be preserved, along with my equally deitous talents for playing Time Splitters, MSR, F-Zero X, and, um, everything else I deliberately suck at when I'm playing with other people.
This morning I was so tired I picked up toilet freshener instead of deodorant. The bad news is my armpit stings. The good news is I smell pleasantly of lillies of the field. |
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Forgive me father, for I have sinned.
By Michael - 9:21 PM, Saturday, September 28, 2002 - 6 Comments
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 Since my last confession, I have purchased an XBox and received a free copy of Fusion Frenzy. I have been playing Fusion Frenzy with my friends over the last week, and - as much as I hate to admit it - the game is insanely fun. You don't understand what it's like, the thrilling highs, the crushing lows, the scary resemblance of some games to Gladiator and Tron! They've got all my favourites, the waterfall level, sumo, boat races, the announcer that yells every sentence at the top of his voice! ***THE NEWSPOST IS ALMOST OVER***!!! Miles and I didn't even go out on this beautiful Saturday night! WE STAYED IN AND PLAYED VIDEO GAMES INSTEAD... (Hey, I never said you had to go out on a SATURDAY night, did I? :)...) Well... all that's left to say is... ***SAMSON WINS***~!!!!!!!111111 |
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If you're reading this...
By Michael - 7:25 PM, Friday, September 27, 2002 - 14 Comments
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If you're reading this... then stop reading it. Read a book. Or better yet, go out dammit. It's Friday night for christ's sake, you fucking fat geek. You haven't been out of that basement since you last stopped masturbating to get some cold pizza, have you? Stop ogling pictures of that underage chick on www.teenpanties.com. Turn off that fucking Nine Inch Nails dammit! Trent doesn't care about you! DRINK! ALCOHOL WILL SOLVE ALL YOUR FUCKING PROBLEMS LOSER. YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF. KILL YOUR FAMILY.
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DOOOO IIIIIIIIIITTTTTT. |
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Arse Of The Week: The Wanker What Come Round My House Last Night
By Adam - 4:54 AM, Thursday, September 26, 2002 - 19 Comments
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RING RING [one second pause] BANG BANG BANG
Hello?
[condescending look] Didn't you hear your doorbell?
I was at the other end of the house.
Oh okay fine. I'm from blahblahblah, and we're offering fifty lucky motorists the chance to win FREE car care!
Not interested
[condescending look again] You... don't... want... FREE car care?
I said I'm not interested.
[even more condescending look] But it's FREE.
SLAM
Someone needs a good hard smack in the head. See if you can guess who it is.
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Thomas Crapper was a robot
By Michael - 4:37 PM, Wednesday, September 25, 2002 - 8 Comments
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Tonight, my hotmail spam reached an all-time low. It was amidst "FREE VIAGRA! SIGN UP NOW!" and "Increase your breast size naturally!"... deep beneath "Get a huge cock in weeks" and "F R E E S E X F O R L I F E", even beneath "eBay Australia - Final Notification of overdue account" and "I send you this file for your advice", lay the most obscure spam I've ever laid my eyes on. No, it wasn't a Hong Kong Investment, or even a free diploma from an international university of my choice. It was:
Solve Septic Tank Problems
If your home is served by a septic system, you are able to receive invaluable information on how to eliminate pump outs, how to maintain the system properly and cure problems such as backups, wet spots, odor, etc. -- FOR FREE!
You can do this by checking out our site at: http://www.septictankhelp.com/ I hate those emails that just talk shit. *bam* |
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I AM THE LAW!!!
By Michael - 10:02 AM, Tuesday, September 24, 2002 - 0 Comments
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Today I paid some very important bills: My phone bill, my credit card bill, and my irresponsible driving tax. Except, unlike the credit card bill and the phone bill, which both came in little envelopes with a plastic window in them, my irresponsible driving tax was hand written and delivered personally to me on the street by one of our friendly local upholders-of-the-law, Sargeant Copster McLawMan.
Oh, sure, the tax varies from year to year. Sometimes it's $105, sometimes it's $165, sometimes it's $315. Some years it's even nothing. But the point of it all is that I don't mind paying a small tax each year for the right to drive like a rabid squirrel. Who wouldn't be happy to pay this small fee to be able to make illegal U-turns, sit 20ks over the limit all the time, and generally just cut people off and make life difficult for others. It's all about team work.
I think I've got my aggression tax coming up next week. That one's a really fancy one to pay - I have to go to court so they can figure out how much it's going to be! :) |
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I love dogs that never stop barking. No, really, I do.
By Adam - 10:35 AM, Sunday, September 22, 2002 - 20 Comments
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The dog next door barks all the time. All day. 6:30 in the morning. Well after midnight. It stands right against the fence, two feet from my living room, and never stops barking. I can't do simple things like work on uni assignments, or read, or watch television. I can't even open a window on hot days because the barking is actually deafening.
I've asked the neighbours to do something. I've had a go at one of those supersonic dog-pissing-off gadgets. I've even tried standing outside and screaming at the fucking thing. Nothing works. It never stops. Ever.
So, why do I love dogs that never stop barking? Simple: I can play thumping bass as loud as I like, whenever I like, and not experience the slightest pang of guilt. I can also have big noisy parties in the backyard until sunrise the next day. And if I can't sleep at three in the morning, I might go outside and have a bit of a mow, or do a spot of welding, or perhaps partake in some noisy lovemaking.
Right now the floor's shaking so hard the birds outside have emigrated, and if the neighbours complain I can tell them to take their complaint and stick it right up their fucking arse. |
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Wow.
By Miles - 3:57 PM, Saturday, September 21, 2002 - 10 Comments
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Now there goes one bitter, bitter man.
Can I help but be excited by human contact after a week and a half of sitting in my room doing projects?
I spent 50 hours on a project last week. It was only meant to be 18 hours long - and I wasn't the only sucker to take so long on this project, it was a nightmare. This Friday, I handed in a 26 page 3000 word monster. Add to that, many of those words were actually equations - I got reaaaaaal good at equation editor.
So excuse me for actually fucking enjoying the company of others after working my arse off all week. You fucking arsehole.
..... man, the make-up sex is going to be great tonight. |
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Vive La 1 Bitter Guy!
By Michael - 2:22 PM, Saturday, September 21, 2002 - 0 Comments
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  The revolution has begun. I'm being outposted by everyone. Even by people as neurotic and boring as Miles (no offense Miles). I get home from work last night and he's like a Chihuahua, bouncing and leaping at the big dopey dog (me) who just wants to get his other fucking foot in the door and sit down. Mmm. How bitter I have become.
Miles: "Dude!!! Don't you hate it, when you ring up for Thai food, and you realise that you don't have any money!! So you have to scrounge in that little tray full of 20c pieces that you keep for those emergency situations like this? Oh my god!"
Michael: "... uhh, yep."
Miles: "And, like, it's SOOOOO annoying, ya know???"
Michael: "Mmm hmm. Uh... I'm having a shower."
Miles: "OH!" (thinking) "OKAY!!!!"
Michael: "... so... would you mind stepping aside? You're in my way."
Oh Miles. I love you.
  I remember back in the days when I could post once a week and not be challenged by anyone. It was like being really, really good at Quake 3, and always beating your friends. It was like that time I went to the Olympics and won gold for Canada as part of a 5-woman curling team. Or was that Rhona Martin? Well in any case, it was really cool.
  So anyway, in an effort to make my posts way funnier and more "hip" than the other 3 Bitter Guys, I'm making all of my posts lively and exciting. I hope you like it. And now, for a random snippit of exciting conversation exchanged between myself and friends in the car today:
Michael: "Hey Ches, did you just say 'check it out, that chick has hot breasts'?"
Ches: "No, I said 'check it out, it's a Mini Cooper S."
Michael: "Oh." |
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New me
By Tim - 9:07 PM, Friday, September 20, 2002 - 6 Comments
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New me.
Old me.
I guess the runner's nipple is worth something. What do you reckon? |
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Why are American fantasy writers all so spunky?
By Adam - 4:44 AM, Friday, September 20, 2002 - 3 Comments
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Melbourne
By Adam - 11:29 AM, Thursday, September 19, 2002 - 4 Comments
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What a beautiful day! The sun's shining an... oh, it's raining. So much f... oooh, the sun's out! The sky's blue! Summer's h... oh, it's pissing down. Won't be going out in th... hey, sun! Bright sun! And no clouds! I think I'll g... oh, it's raini... but it's stopped! And the s... oh, it's rai... oooh, it's su... oh, it's r... oooh, it's su... oh, it's r...
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No, that's perfect
By Tim - 5:53 PM, Tuesday, September 17, 2002 - 3 Comments
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 You fuckers. I vent a shot of bitterness for the first time in ages and you go and post shit on top of me. Fuck off. |
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Is Adam real?
By Miles - 5:19 PM, Tuesday, September 17, 2002 - 0 Comments
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 This is the question we get asked ALL THE TIME.
Now... it seems like a vaguely fair question. I mean, who the hell is he? He just appeared from nowhere and just started posting a crapload, which just doesn't seem right. I mean, this was Michael's baby from the start, we're hardly going to get someone on to compete with him. I mean, heck, that's why he got me, Tim and Ches on board.
Err, but I digress. Yes, he's real. He's just incredibly, utterly, amazingly bitter. He's bitterness condensed to a slow vibration. He out-bittered Ches, which is why he's the newest 4 Bitter Guy.
Cripes, I just realised we never even introduced him. The Internet - Adam, Adam - The Internet. I'm sure you'll get along just fine.
And this wouldn't be a 4BG post without a silly picture. So here you go.
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Arse Of The Week: Aristos
By Adam - 4:01 PM, Tuesday, September 17, 2002 - 7 Comments
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 Don't tell the others but I'm starting a new regular segment because the world is full of Arses. On the telly. In the paper. At uni. Down the local 7 Eleven. Everywhere. I'm bitter. I've had enough. I can't take it anymore.
This week's choice is an obvious one, but he exudes Arse and must be the first: Our very own Surprise Chef, Aaron 'Aristos' Papandroulakis.
Let's look at the facts:
- He hosts a lifestyle show
- He wears a big cartoon chef's jacket with Aristos embroidered across his right nipple
- He refers to himself in the third person
- He uses loads of quirky expressions in the hope that he'll start a lexical trend amongst his sad housewife demographic (salt is 'a little bit of Harold', olive oil is 'me old mate', etc)
- As if that alone isn't bad enough, these quirky expressions are glossarised in a new Surprise Chef magazine, the cover of which has a picture of Aristos being a dickhead and the phrase 'Oh, Aristos, you've done it again!' in big red letters for completely no reason
- He says 'the grouse'. Not just 'grouse', 'the grouse'. And he says it all the time.
Need I say more? Aristos, you are an Arse. Here's your award. Now piss off. |
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Ow.
By Tim - 3:26 PM, Tuesday, September 17, 2002 - 2 Comments
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Okay, so I'm not the fittest guy in the world, so I figure, hey, I used to be skinny, maybe I can do it again?
So I take up this thing called "running". Apparently it helps you get fit and lose weight.
But someone neglected to tell me about this thing called "runner's nipple".
Yeah, ouch indeed. Jesus. And to top it all off I've barely lost any weight at all. And I've been doing this crazy schtick for nearly three months now. Someone shoot me. |
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The Many Wonders Of The Internet
By Michael - 9:00 AM, Tuesday, September 17, 2002 - 1 Comment
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What were Microsoft thinking when they made Internet Explorer insist on creating a folder called "Links" under the "Favourites" menu? Isn't "Favourites" the Microsoftian word for links anyway? Where the hell am I? Who are you?
Speaking of favourite links, I am proud to present (from the bowels of the internet) the Plastic Wrap pr0n Competition for 2002. What is "dignity", anyway? For all of us, this competition is an entertaining, slightly disconcerting 15 minutes of browsing half-naked underage girls, but can you imagine what it must be like to be dating a camgirl? Now that's got to be a solid relationship. |
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Anna Nicole Smith
By Adam - 7:35 AM, Tuesday, September 17, 2002 - 5 Comments
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...could never drown. Unless they were popped.
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'Quality Stationery' My Arse
By Adam - 5:00 PM, Sunday, September 15, 2002 - 12 Comments
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 Staplers are simple devices. A big metal thing pushes a small metal thing into some papery stuff, and another big metal thing bends it up so it clings to the paper. Pretty simple really. So why the fuckity bollocks do staplers never work properly? What makes them suddenly want to mangle all the staples and put loads of giant useless holes in your otherwise pristine documents?
This bothered me so much that I took two staplers -- one that works and one that doesn't -- and compared them side by side. They were exactly the same. There was no difference at all. None. Nanometre for nanometre, they were clinically identical.
All this leads me to believe staplers are collectively conspiring to thwart our intentions to bind pieces of paper. What do they want from us? Do they just want paper to be free? Are they actively resisting the binds that restrict the liberty to which paper has become accustomed? Do they plan to denounce as one body the traditional forced union of A4 loose leaf? And if so, how does injuring the very subject of their protest further the cause?
Paper's only dead trees anyway, so staplers are wasting their time. Pinko bastards. |
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Vroooooooooooom
By Michael - 4:09 PM, Wednesday, September 11, 2002 - 0 Comments
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 Holy shit! That traffic light is never green! I just sailed right through it! Ahh, shit, the one ahead is red though... Wait! Green! Cool! Dammit, this loser's turning right, hang on, it's all good, left lane, sweet, sailed right around him. Wow. It normally takes me 10 minutes to get here!
Shit, that one on the horizon is green, I'm never going to make it. Hmmm... will I? Maybe. Nah. Yeah, I think I might. It's gunna go yellow any second now... any second. Jesus, I'm getting pretty close to it, just watch, it's going to go yellow right as I get near it. Watch....... nah, it's just pretending it's still going to stay green to shit me. Wait for it... wait... holy shit! I'm past the point of no return, and still green!
OH MY GOD! I'M GOING TO MAKE IT! WAAHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! SUCK IT DOWN, EVERYONE ON THAT ROAD I JUST WENT PAST! w000t! |
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I Hate Pyjamas
By Adam - 6:21 AM, Wednesday, September 11, 2002 - 28 Comments
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I thought, you know, it'd be a good idea to run out and turn the heater on. You know, what with it being minus 50 degrees and me not starting work until this afternoon because my touchy-feely workplace is making me work until god-damn-midnight and such.
So what happens? My big toe gets caught in my right pyjama trouser leg and tears the cuff. You know the big thick bit at the bottom that's double-stitched for strength? Completely torn apart, with my big toe, in a direction and with a force that big toes aren't designed for. Now I am in immense pain. I think I tore a Ligament Thingo© in my foot, because there's hell pain all the way up to my ankle now.
Now I'm so bored and so unwillingly trapped in my comfy chair that I've converted this entire news post into Russian phonetics for your enjoyment. |
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Exactly one year ago today...
By Adam - 4:20 AM, Wednesday, September 11, 2002 - 0 Comments
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 ...Lleyton Hewitt won the US Open. C'MORRRRRRRN!!
Here he is trialling a new turban. Take that Beckham, ya pansy. |
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EXCLUSIVE! Michael exposed!
By Michael - 10:45 AM, Sunday, September 8, 2002 - 0 Comments
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I am a banana.
By Michael - 2:00 PM, Saturday, September 7, 2002 - 0 Comments
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Let's see if I can do an entire news post without a single joke. That's what people want to see, right? :)
 Ahhh, nothing like a quiet Saturday to kick your weekend off. Doing the laundry, a spot of vacuuming... hell! I might even dust! It's that exciting where I live. The rest of the day was spent on the phone giving network configuration support to my dad.
Last night saw some 4-player Halo goodness with friends on 2 TVs, a little bit of pub action later in the night, then being kept up till 4:30am by your flatmate because she can't sleep and wants to watch Gremlins but doesn't want to watch it alone so forces you to stay up with her by bribing you with hot, buttery popcorn... I guess the popcorn was pretty good.
I just found a kick-ass webpage of a guy that used to live in Melbourne: http://www.worldwidejeb.org. I laughed till I cried :) He reminds me of me, but 23, living in Sydney, cool, and has ability to write the sentence real good.
I advise you all go and download the demo of Battlefield 1942 and play it with your friends over a LAN. It is, quite frankly, the best game in the world. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll get shot by a guy you didn't even see. You'll storm bases, fly bombers, and even parachute onto destroyers off the coast of the island you're defending, only to be shot down by fucking Axis AGAIN. Fuckers. I hate the game. It's shit.
PS. Check out these fucktards. Their mastery of the English language is surpassed only by their razor sharp wit and supreme intellect. |
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You'll have someone's eye out with that... thing.
By Adam - 4:17 PM, Friday, September 6, 2002 - 0 Comments
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THE WAR ON IRAQ
by Adam, age 5 ¾
Bush: Stop it.
Saddam: Stop what?
Bush: Stop it.
Saddam: Stop what?
Bush: Just stop it.
Saddam: What did I do?
Bush: Just stop it okay?
Blair: Oooh! Mister Bush sir! Can I swallow?
Howard: Pick me! I try harder!
Saddam: Can I go now?
Bush: You're not going anywhere. TERROR!!
Blair: My palms are greased sir!
Howard: Suits you sir!
Blair: Ooooh! Suits you sir! Suits you!
Saddam: Sod this.
Bush: TERROR!! *blam blam blam*
Saddam: Bugger.
The end. |
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Philosophy
By Adam - 3:38 PM, Tuesday, September 3, 2002 - 5 Comments
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 What would happen if you took Michael Jackson out with your mates? Would he talk to people? Would he wear his big black goggles indoors? If you had to pop into a 7 Eleven for a slurpee, would the bloke behind the counter laugh at him or call the police? If you took a stroll through your local park and he got hayfever, would he blow his nose? Or would he take it off and flush it out with a pipe cleaner? If you went out for dinner, would he touch the food? Would he use the lav, or would he use a sequined colostomy bag he carries everywhere with him? And if you went to the movies, would he put plastic sheets all over the seat? Would he sit between two strangers without panicking? Would he bring his pet llama? Would he touch young children? Would he run out for a dose of pure oxygen every three minutes? And if you went down the pub afterwards, would he get lagered up like everyone else? Would he get that sudden craving for a beef curry? Would he stay out past 7:30pm?
Speaking of freaks, does Liza Minnelli use her side-mounted eyes to see sideways but not straight ahead, like rabbits? Can that bloke she married actually blink or move his mouth? Is there a menagerie for these people? Does Elizabeth Taylor live there?
And what about Queen Elizabeth II of England? Does she wipe her own arse? When she spills soup all down her cleavage, does she sponge it off her own breasts? When she has an attack of the thrush, does she apply the Canesten up her own front-bottom? If she drops and breaks an antique Wedgwood tea cup, does she say 'oh jesus fucking haitch christ, there goes another priceless fucking heirloom'? |
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Death and taxes
By Michael - 6:30 PM, Monday, September 2, 2002 - 9 Comments
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In the modern world, young people are too focused on studying and partying to worry about finances. No more! Read it first here: Planning For Long-Term Financial Security.
Once you've read that disgusting piece of shiterature and have no more trust in me, click here to see a fucking cool Tesla coil that some guy built. Man. Someone needs to get laid.
What better way to celebrate your religion than with a peanut effigy? Give religion the respect it deserves! :) If you don't believe in Heaven, you can't argue with cold hard science. Now you can turn your beloved relatives into cold lifeless gems. Why not pawn them for a nice Lorus watch at the local pawn store? Did I say porn store? Hah. Gives "Oh god" a new meaning. Pt-ching.
... bam. |
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First of the Summer Whine
By Adam - 12:51 PM, Monday, September 2, 2002 - 1 Comment
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Ahh. If this morning didn't feel like an early summer. Life sucks but it didn't matter because it felt like summer. I even saw an actual fly, and thought they must carry tiny calendars with them.
Then the flies pissed off and the wind picked up and the temperature dropped and all the storm clouds came over, and I spent my lunch break in the office trying to read my book without being hassled. Melbourne sucks. |
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