There’s nothing better than having arguments in chatrooms with people. The other night I was arguing with this strange character known as ScientologyBoy (age 18). Now, I’ve got nothing against (most) religions, as long as they don’t push their beliefs on me. I think religious beliefs are like genitals – you should only show them to other people if you’re asked to.
I won’t pretend I have the foggiest what scientology is about (believing that there is no god or something? no idea), but this guy was an idiot, treated all of us who didn’t share his beliefs like fools. In fact, he even said to me:
ScientologyBoy: I’m sorry but you’re just a wog.
Me: Excuse me?!
ScientologyBoy: You’re a wog.
Me: (looks down pants) No I’m not! How can you go around calling people wogs?!
ScientologyBoy: Oh, you uneducated fool. In scientology a ‘wog’ is a non believer.
Me: Ah, I see. There’s something like that in my religion, Jebology. We call non believers ‘stupid arse licking shit heads’.
Later it eventuated that ScientologyBoy had chosen Wicca as a religion before scientology. I started saying that it didn’t really matter what religion I believed in because I’d end up going to hell anyway (I’m gay, I go there by default), when he started rabbiting on that he used to be a Satanist.
Me: So what, you just wake up in the morning, spin the Wheel of Religion and see what comes up each day?
ScientologyBoy: I warn you, don’t fool with me. I will place a curse on you.
Me: What, a Satanic Wicca Scientology curse? Ooooooh!
ScientologyBoy: I spit at you. A CURSE ON YOUR SEED!
Me: When you’re gay, you tend not to do a hell of a lot with your seed, mate.
Then he left the room. Strange bugger. And even more stranger, I had a Satanic curse placed on me in March last year as well! Go and read the archives if you can be bothered… I don’t think these Satanic curses are working very well.
*****
I’m sure you’ve seen that Popstars show on TV. If you don’t live in Australia, well it’s a show about… oh, I can’t be bothered, go look at their website. (It’s a public holiday here and I’m feeling lazy). Apparently they’re making a boy band version of the show, even though the Popstars website advises otherwise. A scheme is forming in my mind at the moment…
I’m thinking of auditioning for the boy band show. Sure, I can’t dance at all and I can barely sing, but at the very least I’ll be on TV for about five seconds. If I actually got through to be in the band (cough!) I’d stop the first concert and scream THIS IS PROSTITUTION OF MUSIC! before launching into a metal/rap solo. Or something. Any ideas on how I’d be able to infiltrate the boy band show?
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I was watching Today Tonight on Friday. Naomi Robson, the host of the Melbourne edition of the show, had an incredibly croaky voice. It was so bad, I was amazed the Channel 7 produces even let her host the show that night. She’d either been on the grog all Thursday night or she’d sucked too much corporate Channel 7 cock. Let’s see if she gets a payrise in the next few weeks!
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Almost every day without fail in the morning, a one legged seagull will hop past our kitchen window, and my mum will happily exclaim ‘Oh, there’s my friend’. I don’t know why one legged seagulls are attracted to our backyard but I’m positive it’s not the same seagull every day. Why are there more and more seagulls with one leg nowadays, anyway? I bet Microsoft’s involved.
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Thankfully, I didn’t recieve any angry email from angry Killing Heidi fans in response to my last journal entry. I did, however, recieve an email from a Commonwealth Bank manager in response to me picking on the bank, so there you go.
It’s weird. I tell people that I’m moving to Sydney and they go ‘Oh, be careful. Sydney will change you.’ How?! It’s not as if the largest city in Australia could crush me as a person until I’m a quivering blob. I’m going to take the city head on! (cue Gladiators theme music)
Adam reckons I should start going to the gym with him when I move up. I guess I really should start working on un-stick-figuring myself. You may recall I went on a brief fitness stint in December – well, that was kinda shortlived. I only got some weights and stuff from Rebel Sport.
I don’t like Rebel Sport. It makes me feel very unfit. The stores are laid out very strategically – they put the stuff that makes you feel most unfit at the very front of the store. Stuff like home gym sets, weights, treadmills and things like that. Then they just tuck all the other stuff like bike pumps, socks and water bottles at the back of the store.
At least when I move to Sydney, I’ll successfully avoid a 21st birthday party thrown by my parents. They’ve got too many embarassing baby photos and the like. I’m rather worried that a mysteriously ‘missing’ videotape of me appearing on Agro’s Super Sunday Show circa 1990 might magically appear again.
It’s a bit weird. I think when I turn 21, I will really feel like an adult. In America, you’re not classed as an adult till you’re 21, aren’t you? I think that’s pretty accurate really. There’s no way I was a responsible adult at 18 years old. I think the government classifying you as being an adult at age 18 is like getting P-plates for being an adult until you turn 21.
*****
When I burp, Adam calls me a pig. When Adam burps, Adam calls me a pig. Hmm… wait until I start farting in bed, that’ll show him.
One of Adam’s friends rang him up the other day to say ‘I just figured out a way to call people on my mobile for 20 cents, for 10 minutes!’ – then said he’d call Adam tomorrow to tell him how. That’s like a movie trailer for the proper phone call.
Me: Hello, is that (friend)?
Friend: Yes, how’s it going?
Me: Not bad. I’ve got a question.
Friend: What is it?
Me: (switches voice to husky American accent) He was a man from Torquay, who wanted to go out to the pub on Saturday night. ‘Wanna Go Out And Get Pissed’: coming soon to a telephone near you.
Friend: ????????
Me: I’ll call you tomorrow. Seeya.
*****
There’s a guy who lives downstairs from Adam, who we call Wez. His real name isn’t Wesley, we just call him Wez as in Westie. (The word ‘westie’ is also known in some states of Australia as ‘bogan’). Wes remains a bit of a myth to me, Adam’s told me a fair bit about him. Mainly about how whenever Adam walks past his flat, Wes looks up at him from his couch in his balcony and gives him a look like Adam just fucked his mother. I’m going to have to investigate Wes once I move in and find out what he’s up to (we can’t figure out if he even works or not).
*****
Canon have this remarkable talent of making unbelievably crap TV ads. Remember that ad they had with the little kid printing out a page of balloons on his Canon printer, then he ran to show his father… then lo and behold, the pure magic of Canon made the balloons pop out of the page in three dimensions and float off into the sky. If it really was possible to print up things on a Canon printer and have them pop out at you, there’s obviously a few things you wouldn’t want to print up. Namely urine fetish pornography; a flow chart of Bronwyn Bishop’s hairstyles of the past decade; and Hiroshima war footage.