Due to the nature of vaguely connected air vents in our building we occasionally hear our neighbours – particularly if they are doing something that requires/generates *ahem* a lot of noise (such as, but not limited to, singing both the male & female parts in Grease, while showering).
Well, we’ve suspected it for a while now, but after this morning’s guttural yelps, we can confirm that we definitely live next door to a wookie!
I’ve come across some real whackos recently. From the normally sane person who suddenly does something extremely strange, to those who are demonstrating long term asylum suitability. I won’t go into details, for fear of offending many of those I encounter in my travels – but needless to say, Amanda and I are amused and bemused frequently. 
In recent months there’s been a lot of talk on blogs about the contents of one’s refrigerator. What does it say about lifestyle and personality (similar to Sam Gosling’s “what your office says about you” studies I suppose)? Well, we’re putting this out there for all to see. Interpret as you will. The contents of our fridge on Sunday 31st of May. . . (just don’t ask to see the freezer). And yes, I know you shouldn’t refrigerate tomatoes, as it changes their flavour. K thanx.
Through no fault of my own I’ve had John Denver’s classic “Take Me Home, Country Roads” stuck in my head. Versions of it featured heavily in a Studio Ghibli film we watched over the weekend, and on Monday my ipod decided to play the original. What’s particularly distracting about having this particular masterpiece going round and round is that despite how many many times I’ve heard this song (it used to be a favourite of a former flatmate) I still get it wrong. I ALWAYS sing the title lyrics the wrong way round!
Not a big deal, but I just can’t seem to shake it. Of course, I’m not the only person with such steadfast lyrical errors. Another flatmate used to insist that Dire Straits were singing about “Money for nothing and CHEQUES for free“. And someone we know very well (*cough* Amanda’s mum *cough*) will swear blind that in Billie Jean, Micheal Jackson is particularly insistent that “the CHAD is not my son“.
Of course they aren’t the only ones nor are they themost ridiculous. Kiss This Guy is a great collection of misheard lyrics – ranging from the easily mistakeable to the completely ridiculous. It makes you realise that “The Chad” is not nearly as far from the truth as “the cheetahs mugged my son”!
It’s been quite a while since I’ve been on any outing where the norm is to drink cocktails from plastic cups and the bathroom stalls are inscribed with such musings as, “Your heart is a dark forest” and “I am a slave to the wage.” Deep. . .man. Anyway, that’s how we spent our Saturday night this weekend.
Most people here in Australia still don’t have cable television, which is a completely foreign concept to me. I don’t recall a time in my life where we didn’t have cable. Still Joel McHale’s lone Sydney show managed to sell out within a couple of hours of the announcement on last week’s episode of The Soup. We were lucky enough to get in early (we actually acquired tickets before the announcement was made- long complicated story that involves Bret Micheals) and had great seats in the fourth row. It was very funny, and we actually found the most enjoyable bits were the ones about his kid, rather than all the intro Soup-related stuff.
Though the story about his grandmother being embarrassed because he works for E! Entertainment Television made me laugh because when I was at E! my grandmother was so mortified by the specific show I worked for that telling people I worked at E! became the classier preferred alternative. Ah. The times how they change. 
We followed up the show with some Vietnamese food in Marrickville, and I almost fell asleep on the way home. Going out two nights in a row certainly took its toll. I think I’m getting old.
Nobody Expects the Peeps INQUISITION!
Chicago Tribune Peeps on Parade. Submitter: Ken Eakes
Here are a few links which prove that there are people out there with much more time on their hands than I.
How many packets of taco bell sauce does it take to refill a bottle?
How small can a cheeseburger meal get?
Is it possible for a pizza to comply with the rules of sudoku?
Is it possible to resign via the medium of cake?
Is the future of video games also cake-based?
And finally, not so much scientific experimentation but answering the quest for most awesome vanity plate of the day:
Since Lorraine pointed out FAIL blog in her comment (which is a hilarious site by the way), we thought we’d show you a sample of their wares.
We apologise if you just LOLed at the office.
“Shiver me timbers” is one of those stereotypical things that more than likely no one ever actually said, though if they did, it is definitely a historical saying. Assuming pirates of yore really did say it, I think we can safely assume that they don’t any more. I can’t see Somali oil-tanker-nappers saying it can you? So, it was with some surprise that we heard one of our favourite idiots on one of our favourite American idiot news shows – Fox and Friends – genuinely ask:
Do they still say ’shiver me timbers?’
Pretty dumb right?
Wrong. It was seriously idiotic, because she wasn’t asking it about pirates. She was asking it about the Irish!!?! Seriously – you couldn’t make this stuff up! For St. Patrick’s Day they had a live link with a correspondent in Belfast, and the host seriously asked if they still said “shiver me timbers.”
You have got to love Fox and Friends. News doesn’t get anymore entertaining (or exasperating).
|
Recent Comments