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Thứ Hai, 13 tháng 10, 2014

Don't stop thinking about training for your cats

Lilia Schaff always wanted to enter into The New Yorker. The method she envisioned it, the glossy magazine would likely paid her to submit articles her graphics. It didn't quite workout this way. She's the one composing them checkups. Schaff is just one of the creative designers who creates those quirky, offbeat products you see in thumbnail advertisement sprinkled all the way through upscale periodicals just like Atlantic Weekly, The New Yorker, Smithsonian and Yankee. The combination of strange art, readers with unusual choices with so much throw away income has established a market place for items you won't look for anywhere else but yet of these 1-inch black-and-white advertisings. Many of the items you are selling: hand-woven puppy dog collars, harmonica training, videos for cats to watch, a football cap with a wallpaper of a martini stitched onto the front, bow bonds with gold, animal-themed jewelry.

Still, Weiss Geltzer, owner of Meow, Meow Kitty cat Lover's Emporium in New Hope, mentioned his customers' cat that had seen Kitty Videos were absolutely hooked and happy. "What we've realized is, they should enjoy it again and again and so many times," he stated. "And they're not uninterested. They're not like us, watching a movie rather than to be able to watch it two times for the reason that we know the stopping. They don't perform like that."


Don't stop thinking about training. It's crucial for a weight reduction program for each humans and pets. Videos for cats often obtain feline consideration for a work out by seeing birds and squirrels.
Pussy-cat toys and games encourage diving and running, but be careful about those with chains or ribbons which may be ingested. A smaller flashlight in a dimmed bedroom can offer a cat several hours of entertainment although it chases with leaps, looking for the point of light.

A kitty-climbing christmas tree is an activity booster, particularly with catnip sprinkled liberally on it.

For Galilea, if the lack of weight reduction continues, the evaluate has recommended another diet specifically designed for weight-loss.

Thứ Sáu, 26 tháng 9, 2014

The Sydney Monorail - OWN THE FUTURE!


The Sydney Monorail is being decommissioned on 30th June and as part of the festivities, 702 ABC Radio in Sydney asked if I could write a mock classified ad to sell it. How hard could it be? Surely people would be lining up to buy history's most iconic mode of transportation.


I also posted the ad on Gumtree, so it'll be interesting to see how long it stays up.
The Sydney Monorail - (one owner, 4.5 million km)

Mankind’s most breathtaking engineering feats include: the Pyramids, Great Wall of China, sliced bread and Justin Bieber’s hair. As impressive as they are, these awe-inspiring examples will never dethrone the one true king of human ingenuity; all hail the Sydney Monorail!

Designed by Leonardo Da Vinci and Optimus Prime, this futuristic fusion of bullet train and Autobot immediately surpassed Noah’s Ark as history’s most functional mode of transportation! If you want all the benefits of the Orient Express and Trans-Siberian, minus the murderers and communists, then this is the vehicle for you!

Always wondered what it was like for Neil Armstrong and Buzz what’s his name to fang through the cosmos at warp speed? Well wonder no more! If you’re the lucky new owner of this savage space serpent, you’ll experience that sensation every day!

Don’t believe me? Then lend your ears to these cold hard facts!

  • Powered by just one Chuck Norris roundhouse kick, it was the first rail-based form of transport to break the speed of sound!

  • After just one lap of the Large Hadron Collider, it proved the existence of the God particle!

  • It crossed the English Channel - before the tunnel was built!

  • When Superman was a kid, he had a model monorail set!

  • Used in all NASA missions since Apollo 13 - Houston haven’t had any more problems!

  • Roller coasters are too scared to ride it!

  • Light wonders how it travels so fast!

  • Without the monorail, Darling Harbour will just be known as, “Harbour!”

It’s not every day you get the chance to possess the universe’s most hellish ride; so put the house on the market, rob a bank, sell your kidneys and reply to that generous Nigerian prince’s email, because your gonna need every penny to purchase this ruthless robotic reptile!

Price: 

The GDP of Switzerland, or a straight swap for Air Force One and the Millennium Falcon.






    I Think Your Unsubscribe Button is Broken...


    In the hope of becoming an inner-west hipster douchebag, I purchased a bicycle from Reid Cycles. Since that day, I have received numerous emails offering me products that not even Lance Armstrong needs. I have no problem with companies promoting their business via email, but I do have a problem with receiving further emails after unsubscribing from their mailing list...
    Two days later, I received another email offering more cycling-related paraphernalia.
    Hopefully they can find an I.T professional to repair their 'Unsubscribe' button, as well as a team of expert abseilers to retrieve my bicycle...






    In the hope of becoming an inner-west hipster douchebag, I purchased a bicycle from Reid Cycles. Since that day, I have received numerous emails offering me products that not even Lance Armstrong needs. I have no problem with companies promoting their business via email, but I do have a problem with receiving further emails after unsubscribing from their mailing list...

    Two days later, I received another email offering more cycling-related paraphernalia.
    Hopefully they can find an I.T professional to repair their 'Unsubscribe' button, as well as a team of expert abseilers to retrieve my bicycle...





    Thứ Năm, 25 tháng 9, 2014

    Saint Wisken I?


    Dear Vatican,

    I just heard the heavenly news that Pope John Paul II is likely to be canonised later this year. Apart from the tardiness of your decision, my one other complaint is that you only attribute two miracles to this angelic man. My research has uncovered at least five more, but I'll get to those later. The main reason for my letter is to check whether or not I’m also eligible for sainthood. It’s just that I've compared JP's miracles with my own and I reckon I'm in with a shot.

    Here are the two posthumous miracles you give JP credit for:

    • Curing a nun’s Parkinson’s disease after she prayed for his help.
    • Healing a grandmother’s brain aneurysm by talking to her through a photo.

    Did you know that the cause of Parkinson's disease still remains a mystery, even though scientists have researched it for many years? I bet they feel like stupid dummies, considering ghost Pope managed to cure it from the grave. I thought all ghosts were pricks. I refer you to Scooby Doo; the show about a bunch of meddling kids, a stoner and their small horse. Every ghost they apprehended had committed a major felony. Not once did I see them congratulate a spirit or poltergeist for curing a chronic illness.
    I may not be in a position to question God’s earthly homeboys, but can you please help me out with a couple of minor queries?

    Firstly, why did the Pontiff only choose to heal one nun, rather than wiping out Parkinson's disease altogether? If I had to pick just one person to cure, it'd be Marty McFly. I'm sure the nun was a lovely lady, but did she even have a hoverboard? I'm not sure if you've seen Back to the Future, but the plot may seem vaguely familiar to you. It’s about an old man in a white robe becoming extremely close to a handsome young boy. You guys would love it.
    Secondly, did you contact Ladbrokes before confirming the subsequent miracle? It’s just that the odds of a grandma hallucinating due to brain-swelling must be fairly short.

    Just in case those two miracles don't get him over the line, I prayed to JP and asked if he had performed any other supernatural feats. These were his favourites from when he was still alive:

    • Covering-up systematic child rape for many years.
    • Relentless prejudice towards homosexuals and opposition to same-sex marriage.
    • Prohibiting African Catholics to wear condoms, resulting in MILLIONS of AIDS deaths.
    • Opposing women's rights within the Church.
    • Riding in the Popemobile with a straight face.

    That certainly is an impressive list, but I reckon my miracles are only slightly less miraculous. My top five for your consideration:

    • Watching an episode of The View without mutilating my own eyeballs with a claw hammer.
    • Wearing denim shorts as a fifteen year old without being severely bashed.
    • Always blaming it on the sunshine and moonlight, but never on the boogie.
    • Turning wine into water (urea and salts).
    • Looking at Shane Warne’s latest Instagram selfie without vomiting.
    So what do you think guys? Is it likely that I'll become Saint Wisken I? I suppose my miracles haven't 'touched' as many people as JP's, but just try and look at that photo of Warnie without barfing. Exactly... I'll go now so you can clean up the mess.

    Holy regards,

    Rich Wisken. 

    Dear Vatican,


    I just heard the heavenly news that Pope John Paul II is likely to be canonised later this year. Apart from the tardiness of your decision, my one other complaint is that you only attribute two miracles to this angelic man. My research has uncovered at least five more, but I'll get to those later. The main reason for my letter is to check whether or not I’m also eligible for sainthood. It’s just that I've compared JP's miracles with my own and I reckon I'm in with a shot.

    Here are the two posthumous miracles you give JP credit for:

    • Curing a nun’s Parkinson’s disease after she prayed for his help.
    • Healing a grandmother’s brain aneurysm by talking to her through a photo.

    Did you know that the cause of Parkinson's disease still remains a mystery, even though scientists have researched it for many years? I bet they feel like stupid dummies, considering ghost Pope managed to cure it from the grave. I thought all ghosts were pricks. I refer you to Scooby Doo; the show about a bunch of meddling kids, a stoner and their small horse. Every ghost they apprehended had committed a major felony. Not once did I see them congratulate a spirit or poltergeist for curing a chronic illness.
    I may not be in a position to question God’s earthly homeboys, but can you please help me out with a couple of minor queries?

    Firstly, why did the Pontiff only choose to heal one nun, rather than wiping out Parkinson's disease altogether? If I had to pick just one person to cure, it'd be Marty McFly. I'm sure the nun was a lovely lady, but did she even have a hoverboard? I'm not sure if you've seen Back to the Future, but the plot may seem vaguely familiar to you. It’s about an old man in a white robe becoming extremely close to a handsome young boy. You guys would love it.
    Secondly, did you contact Ladbrokes before confirming the subsequent miracle? It’s just that the odds of a grandma hallucinating due to brain-swelling must be fairly short.

    Just in case those two miracles don't get him over the line, I prayed to JP and asked if he had performed any other supernatural feats. These were his favourites from when he was still alive:

    • Covering-up systematic child rape for many years.
    • Relentless prejudice towards homosexuals and opposition to same-sex marriage.
    • Prohibiting African Catholics to wear condoms, resulting in MILLIONS of AIDS deaths.
    • Opposing women's rights within the Church.
    • Riding in the Popemobile with a straight face.

    That certainly is an impressive list, but I reckon my miracles are only slightly less miraculous. My top five for your consideration:

    • Watching an episode of The View without mutilating my own eyeballs with a claw hammer.
    • Wearing denim shorts as a fifteen year old without being severely bashed.
    • Always blaming it on the sunshine and moonlight, but never on the boogie.
    • Turning wine into water (urea and salts).
    • Looking at Shane Warne’s latest Instagram selfie without vomiting.
    So what do you think guys? Is it likely that I'll become Saint Wisken I? I suppose my miracles haven't 'touched' as many people as JP's, but just try and look at that photo of Warnie without barfing. Exactly... I'll go now so you can clean up the mess.

    Holy regards,


    Rich Wisken. 

    Hipster House Hunting


    One of my Twitter followers, alerted me to this fine dwelling available for rent in Fitzroy, VIC. I've never lived in Victoria, but then again, I've never had the opportunity to become part of such a magnificent "Life-community". Click on the picture for the ad, then read my application below.
    Greetings and salutations Tohbeye, Katisha and Liam,

    I am a fellow humyn seeking life-partners of my own (well not of my own, because I don’t believe in ownership).

    Like you, I’m currently involved in activism groups for gay rights, women’s liberation and Palestine. I tried to combine these three causes last year, by hosting a gay rights and women’s pride parade on the Gaza Strip. I was shot several times and airlifted to an Israeli hospital where they saved my life. I know, totes ironic...

    What’s slam poetry? It sounds fun. Is it a mix of poetry and pro-wrestling? I used to love watching the WWF as a kid (before I became anti-sports). It’s called WWE now though, because a giant panda complained about trademark infringement, which is fair enough, pandas are pretty much the Palestinians of the animal kingdom and humans are the Israelis taking away their habitat. Imagine Hulk Hogan reading poetry, that’d be amazeballs.
    I’m also into vegan, fair-trade cuisine, but “Organic” is so mainstream. I usually only eat biodynamically-sourced berries from certified agricultural enclaves within West Papua New Guinea. All my food must be sown and harvested by tribal elders, in accordance with the lunar cycle.

    I am very tolerant of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex humyns. I love George Michael, even though he used harmful chemicals to bleach his stunning locks back in the Wham days. I forgive him though, because he gave me Faith. Oh, I also love giving guys handjobs, so I guess that makes me pretty "Gay friendly".
    If I become your life-mate, do you mind if we change the spiritual rejuvenation time to 10pm? It’s just that I usually like to workout for an hour at 8pm before practicing my pan-pipes at 9pm. When I train, I exercise all muscles, except my gluteus maximus, because I’m totes anti-gluten.

    I agree that money is a capitalist concept, which has no bearing on our soul’s enlightenment, so instead of a donation, I would like to offer my services as a vintage bicycle mechanic. I specialise in tying colourful bandanas to the frames of fixies, as well as polishing faux-leather saddle bags.
    If I become the successful new comrade for your life community, can you please inform me via carrier pigeon. I don’t believe in telecommunications, because "The Man" can’t be trusted. One minute you're using your free Vodafone to Vodafone minutes, the next, you're seeking asylum in the Ecuadorian Embassy in London. Well I say, fuck that! FREE ASSANGE!  
    Peace, love and serenity,

    Rich Wisken.
    Response... sort of

    http://starcalibre.tumblr.com/post/54738668516/a-fake-seeking-housemate-ad-i-posted-to-gumtree (scroll to the bottom)



    One of my Twitter followers, alerted me to this fine dwelling available for rent in Fitzroy, VIC. I've never lived in Victoria, but then again, I've never had the opportunity to become part of such a magnificent "Life-community". Click on the picture for the ad, then read my application below.
    Greetings and salutations Tohbeye, Katisha and Liam,

    I am a fellow humyn seeking life-partners of my own (well not of my own, because I don’t believe in ownership).

    Like you, I’m currently involved in activism groups for gay rights, women’s liberation and Palestine. I tried to combine these three causes last year, by hosting a gay rights and women’s pride parade on the Gaza Strip. I was shot several times and airlifted to an Israeli hospital where they saved my life. I know, totes ironic...

    What’s slam poetry? It sounds fun. Is it a mix of poetry and pro-wrestling? I used to love watching the WWF as a kid (before I became anti-sports). It’s called WWE now though, because a giant panda complained about trademark infringement, which is fair enough, pandas are pretty much the Palestinians of the animal kingdom and humans are the Israelis taking away their habitat. Imagine Hulk Hogan reading poetry, that’d be amazeballs.
    I’m also into vegan, fair-trade cuisine, but “Organic” is so mainstream. I usually only eat biodynamically-sourced berries from certified agricultural enclaves within West Papua New Guinea. All my food must be sown and harvested by tribal elders, in accordance with the lunar cycle.

    I am very tolerant of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex humyns. I love George Michael, even though he used harmful chemicals to bleach his stunning locks back in the Wham days. I forgive him though, because he gave me Faith. Oh, I also love giving guys handjobs, so I guess that makes me pretty "Gay friendly".
    If I become your life-mate, do you mind if we change the spiritual rejuvenation time to 10pm? It’s just that I usually like to workout for an hour at 8pm before practicing my pan-pipes at 9pm. When I train, I exercise all muscles, except my gluteus maximus, because I’m totes anti-gluten.

    I agree that money is a capitalist concept, which has no bearing on our soul’s enlightenment, so instead of a donation, I would like to offer my services as a vintage bicycle mechanic. I specialise in tying colourful bandanas to the frames of fixies, as well as polishing faux-leather saddle bags.
    If I become the successful new comrade for your life community, can you please inform me via carrier pigeon. I don’t believe in telecommunications, because "The Man" can’t be trusted. One minute you're using your free Vodafone to Vodafone minutes, the next, you're seeking asylum in the Ecuadorian Embassy in London. Well I say, fuck that! FREE ASSANGE!  
    Peace, love and serenity,

    Rich Wisken.
    Response... sort of

    http://starcalibre.tumblr.com/post/54738668516/a-fake-seeking-housemate-ad-i-posted-to-gumtree (scroll to the bottom)

    A Very Generous Offer Indeed...


    On Monday, I received a very charitable email from a woman of God - Sister Mary Barbara Neya. I couldn't believe my luck. Out of all the people in the world, I was chosen to receive a very large sum of money
    . Please click on the image below to read Sister Mary's altruistic email, then scroll down for my reply...
    Good day to you Sister Mary,

    Thank you for your kind greetings in good faith. Firstly, please accept my deepest condolences on the passing of your husband. Dying of a ‘heat attack’ sounds awful, but at least it lasted ‘for only 1 day.' Is that the first recorded heat attack fatality in the UK? Australians are told from a very young age that Poms spontaneously combust when temperatures exceed 30°C, but I thought it was an old wives' tale. Being British, I bet you were relieved that Andy Murray didn’t succumb to the same fate as your husband during the Wimbledon final.
    Do you like rugby Sister Mary? I do. That's why I went to the third Lions test with my dad and brother last weekend. I enjoyed the game thoroughly, but by the end of it, I was secretly hoping for a mid-winter heat wave.
    I'm also looking forward to the Ashes series. If you happen to run into the English team, you should probably warn them about the dangers of heat attacks. Perhaps teach them the Cancer Council's Slip-Slop-Slap message - slip on a shirt, slop on some sunscreen and slap on a hat. Tell captain Alastair Cook to skip the part about slipping on a shirt though, he's so dreamy. I wouldn't mind seeing him slip into something more comfortable, know what I'm saying Sister? Silly me, of course you don't...
    I'm sorry Sister Mary, where are my manners? How rude of me to fantasise about exploding Brits, while you mourn the loss of your husband. You can't seem to catch a break at the moment. You mentioned that your doctor said that you ‘can not live for more than one month.’ Why, is there a heat wave forecast? I bet Dr Phil or Dr Oz wouldn't threaten their patients like that. Maybe you should get a second opinion.

    Anyway, lets get down to business. Thank you for your generous offer of $1,750,000 USD, but I don't think I’m the right man to help you carry out God’s work. You see, while I respect your belief in Jesus, I myself worship Satan. Here's a list of things I'd buy/do if given such a large amount of cash:

    1) Buy an orphanage and sell the children into slavery.
    2) Write the Josef Fritzl Guide to Feminism and Family Planning.
    3) Build the Adolf Hitler Centre for Tolerance next door to a synagogue.
    4) Publish the Newer Testament; featuring a post-last supper homosexual orgy.
    5) Sensibly invest the remaining amount into my superannuation fund.

    What do you think Sister Mary? I really want the money, but I don't think our moral principles are compatible. I'll send through the details you requested if I'm still deemed to be the appropriate recipient.

    One more thing. You're not the Sister Mary from Sister Act I, II and III are you? I love those movies, Whoopi Goldberg was just divine; haha, divine... get it? I crack myself up. Anyway, I look forward to hearing back from you soon. I still can't believe how lucky I am...

    Hellish regards,

    Rich Wisken





    On Monday, I received a very charitable email from a woman of God - Sister Mary Barbara Neya. I couldn't believe my luck. Out of all the people in the world, I was chosen to receive a very large sum of money
    . Please click on the image below to read Sister Mary's altruistic email, then scroll down for my reply...
    Good day to you Sister Mary,

    Thank you for your kind greetings in good faith. Firstly, please accept my deepest condolences on the passing of your husband. Dying of a ‘heat attack’ sounds awful, but at least it lasted ‘for only 1 day.' Is that the first recorded heat attack fatality in the UK? Australians are told from a very young age that Poms spontaneously combust when temperatures exceed 30°C, but I thought it was an old wives' tale. Being British, I bet you were relieved that Andy Murray didn’t succumb to the same fate as your husband during the Wimbledon final.
    Do you like rugby Sister Mary? I do. That's why I went to the third Lions test with my dad and brother last weekend. I enjoyed the game thoroughly, but by the end of it, I was secretly hoping for a mid-winter heat wave.
    I'm also looking forward to the Ashes series. If you happen to run into the English team, you should probably warn them about the dangers of heat attacks. Perhaps teach them the Cancer Council's Slip-Slop-Slap message - slip on a shirt, slop on some sunscreen and slap on a hat. Tell captain Alastair Cook to skip the part about slipping on a shirt though, he's so dreamy. I wouldn't mind seeing him slip into something more comfortable, know what I'm saying Sister? Silly me, of course you don't...
    I'm sorry Sister Mary, where are my manners? How rude of me to fantasise about exploding Brits, while you mourn the loss of your husband. You can't seem to catch a break at the moment. You mentioned that your doctor said that you ‘can not live for more than one month.’ Why, is there a heat wave forecast? I bet Dr Phil or Dr Oz wouldn't threaten their patients like that. Maybe you should get a second opinion.

    Anyway, lets get down to business. Thank you for your generous offer of $1,750,000 USD, but I don't think I’m the right man to help you carry out God’s work. You see, while I respect your belief in Jesus, I myself worship Satan. Here's a list of things I'd buy/do if given such a large amount of cash:

    1) Buy an orphanage and sell the children into slavery.
    2) Write the Josef Fritzl Guide to Feminism and Family Planning.
    3) Build the Adolf Hitler Centre for Tolerance next door to a synagogue.
    4) Publish the Newer Testament; featuring a post-last supper homosexual orgy.
    5) Sensibly invest the remaining amount into my superannuation fund.

    What do you think Sister Mary? I really want the money, but I don't think our moral principles are compatible. I'll send through the details you requested if I'm still deemed to be the appropriate recipient.

    One more thing. You're not the Sister Mary from Sister Act I, II and III are you? I love those movies, Whoopi Goldberg was just divine; haha, divine... get it? I crack myself up. Anyway, I look forward to hearing back from you soon. I still can't believe how lucky I am...

    Hellish regards,

    Rich Wisken


     

    Dear Kevin Rudd...


    Hello Prime Minister,

    I’m writing in response to the announcement of your Regional Resettlement Agreement (RRA) with Papua New Guinea. To be honest, I'm surprised it took this long for the Cronulla Riots to influence Australia's asylum seeker policy. Kudos to the marketing visionary who named the RRA, it's far more sellable thanCruel Unlawful Nationalism Treaty (CUNT). Imagine trying to flog that one to the public. 
    If you want Australia to be whiter than Shane Warne's teeth, then you need to turn up the xenophobia a notch or two. Banishing boat people to a third-world country with an appalling human rights record is a good start, but far more radical changes are required if you want to populate Australia with your master race. These changes won't be very popular, but they'll guarantee that future generations will resemble the offspring of Ryan Gosling and Scarlett Johansson.
    Firstly, you're going to need a strong campaign slogan. Kevin '07 was pretty good, but what are your thoughts on Kevin 0'Xeno? I think it really embodies the spirit of your new "Fuck Off We're Full" policy. Unfortunately though, I don't think any amount of propaganda can convince the existing population to wipe out all non-caucasian ethnicities. With that in mind, you should probably focus all your attention on future generations.

    How about establishing a network of nationwide indoctrination facilities? There you could teach Kev's Kiddy Krusaders (KKK), the basics of intolerance and racism, kinda like the Hitler Youth, but much more adorable. Perhaps you could get Mel Gibson to write the curriculum. "Less Gonski, More Gibson" has a nice ring to it. Once you've brainwashed an entire generation, you'll be surprised how easy it is to commit genocide.
    By the way, when everyone in Australia is whiter than Tony Montana's sinuses, what do you plan on doing with all the homosexuals, disabled, sick and poor people? Oh yeah, and what about the redheads? Will you be opening the Julia Gillard Ranga Processing Centre on Christmas Island? Anyway mein Führer, I'd really like to hear back from you at some stage, when you're not busy slaughtering fairy penguins, establishing a live organ-harvesting scheme, or throwing faeces at homeless people.

    Humane regards,

    Rich Wisken.





    Hello Prime Minister,


    I’m writing in response to the announcement of your Regional Resettlement Agreement (RRA) with Papua New Guinea. To be honest, I'm surprised it took this long for the Cronulla Riots to influence Australia's asylum seeker policy. Kudos to the marketing visionary who named the RRA, it's far more sellable thanCruel Unlawful Nationalism Treaty (CUNT). Imagine trying to flog that one to the public. 
    If you want Australia to be whiter than Shane Warne's teeth, then you need to turn up the xenophobia a notch or two. Banishing boat people to a third-world country with an appalling human rights record is a good start, but far more radical changes are required if you want to populate Australia with your master race. These changes won't be very popular, but they'll guarantee that future generations will resemble the offspring of Ryan Gosling and Scarlett Johansson.
    Firstly, you're going to need a strong campaign slogan. Kevin '07 was pretty good, but what are your thoughts on Kevin 0'Xeno? I think it really embodies the spirit of your new "Fuck Off We're Full" policy. Unfortunately though, I don't think any amount of propaganda can convince the existing population to wipe out all non-caucasian ethnicities. With that in mind, you should probably focus all your attention on future generations.

    How about establishing a network of nationwide indoctrination facilities? There you could teach Kev's Kiddy Krusaders (KKK), the basics of intolerance and racism, kinda like the Hitler Youth, but much more adorable. Perhaps you could get Mel Gibson to write the curriculum. "Less Gonski, More Gibson" has a nice ring to it. Once you've brainwashed an entire generation, you'll be surprised how easy it is to commit genocide.
    By the way, when everyone in Australia is whiter than Tony Montana's sinuses, what do you plan on doing with all the homosexuals, disabled, sick and poor people? Oh yeah, and what about the redheads? Will you be opening the Julia Gillard Ranga Processing Centre on Christmas Island? Anyway mein Führer, I'd really like to hear back from you at some stage, when you're not busy slaughtering fairy penguins, establishing a live organ-harvesting scheme, or throwing faeces at homeless people.

    Humane regards,

    Rich Wisken.




    Thứ Tư, 24 tháng 9, 2014

    Please Excuse My Parking Fine...


    Recently, 
    Leichhardt Council issued me a penalty notice for disobeying a no-stopping sign. I love the municipality of Leichhardt and would never break their rules intentionally. Unfortunately, I was forced to park in a forbidden space, due to a medical emergency. I hope this letter clears up the misunderstanding.

    Dear Mayor Byrne, Leichhardt Municipal Council, and the State Debt Recovery Office,

    On 30th July 2013, between 11:48am and 11:50am (presumably 11:49am), I was issued with a $236 penalty notice for disobeying a no-stopping sign in the delightful inner-west hamlet of Rozelle. As embarrassing as it is, I'm writing to see if I may be excused from paying the fine, on the grounds that I was suffering from violently explosive diarrhoea at the time.
    The evening before the fine was issued, I ordered a beef vindaloo from a local Indian restaurant - a mistake I vehemently regret. Later that night my stomach started ferociously churning, which sounded like Chewbacca being sodomised by a jackhammer. As you can imagine, this was not a pleasant sensation.
    Then came the sweating. Like Patrick Ewing in the fourth quarter, a saline waterfall of perspiration cascaded from every pore on my dehydrated body. This was followed by a sudden wave of staggering nausea. In fact, it was the exact same feeling I experienced when someone showed me the 2 Girls 1 Cup video. Have you seen it? If not, I wouldn't Google it unless you're a hardcore scat fetishist. It's really gross.

    Before I could make it to the toilet, I projectile vomited a fiery torrent of curried magma across my bedroom. The spicy tsunami destroyed everything in its path, including my Wests Tigers jersey, which I often wear to display how proud I am to live in this superb municipality. Eventually I reached the bathroom, where I spent the remainder of the night rapidly deploying thousands of chocolate skydivers into a porcelain drop-zone, whilst shaking like Muhammad Ali on a roller coaster.
    When I woke up the following morning, I felt like the entire volume of the Ganges had passed through my emaciated torso. I needed three things: hydration, Imodium and a butt-plug, so I dragged myself to the car and drove to Rozelle, where I knew I could get at least two of these items.

    As I entered Rozelle, the sudden urge to evacuate my bowels overcame me once again. I parked in the first vacant space I saw and swiftly exited my vehicle. Somehow, I remembered that a ticket is required to claim the generous 30-minute free parking that you bestow upon your beloved citizens. I flagged down a passing hipster on a fixed-gear bicycle and asked if he'd collect the ticket for me. I don't normally interact with hipsters, but this was a crisis. Thankfully he stopped riding, put his satchel of organic groceries down, and placed a ticket on my dashboard.
    As you can see, the time matches that of the penalty notice. Don't you think it's amazing that I had the presence of mind to remember a ticket in the midst of such a frenzied gastrointestinal emergency? Me too. However, I must say there are a couple of things I don't understand about this particular 'no-parking' space. Firstly, why is a ticket machine located directly next to it? And secondly, why is it identical to all the others in the area? It's very confusing. 

    When I arrived back at the car, the parking inspector informed me that the spot is allocated to Australia Post between certain hours. He also said that "Nobody sees the sign" and "It happens all the time." Now, I'm not a smart man by any means, but I think I may have a solution to avoid this scenario reoccurring. How about painting red or yellow lines across the space, or perhaps the words "AUSTRALIA POST, SO DON'T FUCKING PARK HERE!" in big, bold letters? Oh, and relocating the ticket machine next to ANY other space but the prohibited one would also be favourable.

    One of my friends told me there's no way you'll do any of those things, because you're a bunch of greedy, revenue-raising wankers. I told him to shut up, as I know there's no way the upstanding Leichhardt Councillors would behave in that manner. By the way, he's no longer my friend. Anyway, thank you so much for your time. Please find it in your benevolent hearts to forgive my minor indiscretion. I promise never to eat beef vindaloo again.

    The kindest of regards,

    Rich Wisken.

    P.S. I hope you like the envelope I sent this letter in. I really, really love the municipality of Leichhardt!


    *UPDATE*

    It didn't work...




    Recently, 
    Leichhardt Council issued me a penalty notice for disobeying a no-stopping sign. I love the municipality of Leichhardt and would never break their rules intentionally. Unfortunately, I was forced to park in a forbidden space, due to a medical emergency. I hope this letter clears up the misunderstanding.

    Dear Mayor Byrne, Leichhardt Municipal Council, and the State Debt Recovery Office,

    On 30th July 2013, between 11:48am and 11:50am (presumably 11:49am), I was issued with a $236 penalty notice for disobeying a no-stopping sign in the delightful inner-west hamlet of Rozelle. As embarrassing as it is, I'm writing to see if I may be excused from paying the fine, on the grounds that I was suffering from violently explosive diarrhoea at the time.
    The evening before the fine was issued, I ordered a beef vindaloo from a local Indian restaurant - a mistake I vehemently regret. Later that night my stomach started ferociously churning, which sounded like Chewbacca being sodomised by a jackhammer. As you can imagine, this was not a pleasant sensation.
    Then came the sweating. Like Patrick Ewing in the fourth quarter, a saline waterfall of perspiration cascaded from every pore on my dehydrated body. This was followed by a sudden wave of staggering nausea. In fact, it was the exact same feeling I experienced when someone showed me the 2 Girls 1 Cup video. Have you seen it? If not, I wouldn't Google it unless you're a hardcore scat fetishist. It's really gross.

    Before I could make it to the toilet, I projectile vomited a fiery torrent of curried magma across my bedroom. The spicy tsunami destroyed everything in its path, including my Wests Tigers jersey, which I often wear to display how proud I am to live in this superb municipality. Eventually I reached the bathroom, where I spent the remainder of the night rapidly deploying thousands of chocolate skydivers into a porcelain drop-zone, whilst shaking like Muhammad Ali on a roller coaster.
    When I woke up the following morning, I felt like the entire volume of the Ganges had passed through my emaciated torso. I needed three things: hydration, Imodium and a butt-plug, so I dragged myself to the car and drove to Rozelle, where I knew I could get at least two of these items.

    As I entered Rozelle, the sudden urge to evacuate my bowels overcame me once again. I parked in the first vacant space I saw and swiftly exited my vehicle. Somehow, I remembered that a ticket is required to claim the generous 30-minute free parking that you bestow upon your beloved citizens. I flagged down a passing hipster on a fixed-gear bicycle and asked if he'd collect the ticket for me. I don't normally interact with hipsters, but this was a crisis. Thankfully he stopped riding, put his satchel of organic groceries down, and placed a ticket on my dashboard.
    As you can see, the time matches that of the penalty notice. Don't you think it's amazing that I had the presence of mind to remember a ticket in the midst of such a frenzied gastrointestinal emergency? Me too. However, I must say there are a couple of things I don't understand about this particular 'no-parking' space. Firstly, why is a ticket machine located directly next to it? And secondly, why is it identical to all the others in the area? It's very confusing. 

    When I arrived back at the car, the parking inspector informed me that the spot is allocated to Australia Post between certain hours. He also said that "Nobody sees the sign" and "It happens all the time." Now, I'm not a smart man by any means, but I think I may have a solution to avoid this scenario reoccurring. How about painting red or yellow lines across the space, or perhaps the words "AUSTRALIA POST, SO DON'T FUCKING PARK HERE!" in big, bold letters? Oh, and relocating the ticket machine next to ANY other space but the prohibited one would also be favourable.

    One of my friends told me there's no way you'll do any of those things, because you're a bunch of greedy, revenue-raising wankers. I told him to shut up, as I know there's no way the upstanding Leichhardt Councillors would behave in that manner. By the way, he's no longer my friend. Anyway, thank you so much for your time. Please find it in your benevolent hearts to forgive my minor indiscretion. I promise never to eat beef vindaloo again.

    The kindest of regards,

    Rich Wisken.

    P.S. I hope you like the envelope I sent this letter in. I really, really love the municipality of Leichhardt!


    *UPDATE*

    It didn't work...