Stupid Products That Really Exist #4052: a snowboard with this year’s AFL fixtures on it. As witnessed in Target by myself.
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I’m writing this entry while I am supervising another night school exam at my work (a uni). I feel like a bit of a dill, because I suspected that 2 guys down the back of the room were copying each others’ work. I’d been giving them stern looks all evening (ah, power…) I thought I’d go one step further and stroll down towards the back of the room, doing my best attempt at an imposing and aggressive face. I sorta looked like a dickhead though, because when I got there I realised they were 2 rows apart.
Also, when I was strolling around the room further into the exam, this woman (who I at first thought was this blobby thing with a head and 4 limbs stuck to it) turned around and winked at me. I desperately hope the 2 incidents aren’t connected.
I’ve noticed that the first person to leave an exam room seems to be the most bimbo/himbo person in the room. The last person is always some old guy with an incredibly flushed face who’s yet to grasp the concept of personal hygine. You can always pick which student will be the first to leave the exam room – it’s the student who gets an oh-my-god-my-exam-just-turned-into-a-giant-turd look on their face as soon as they start reading the exam questions.
I had a guy in this evening’s exam who changed his desk 3 times because he said the other ones squeaked too much. The desks probably wouldn’t have squeaked so much if he would have stopped masturbating underneath them. (Oh, alright. That last bit isn’t true).
A guy at my work has just moved into a new home, and today I heard him on the phone to Telstra demanding his phone number be changed, because his new phone number has ‘666′ in it. They gave him a new phone number, so me and a mate had a bit of fun with it. You see, my mate has this program he downloaded off the net, which looks at your phone number and checks what words can be incorporated into it. Eg: The phone number ‘9481 2337′ can become the phone number ‘9481 BEER’, because the letter B corresponds to the number 2 on your phone keypad, the letter E corresponds to the number 3, and the letter R corresponds to the number 7. (If you’re confused, check your phone keypad). Anyway – it turns out that the numbers ‘662′ are in this guy’s new phone number, and out of these numbers you can make the word ‘NOB’. Which couldn’t be more appropriate, considering what this guy is like.
In the office I work in, we throw stationery items at each other when we’re pissed off – the larger the object, the more pissed off we are. Here’s a general guide to what we’re thinking and what we throw at each other:
‘You idiot’ – a paperclip.
‘Wanker’ – a pen.
‘That wasn’t funny’ – a ruler.
‘May the wrath of Satan have vegeance on your weak, pitiful soul’ – a brick.
In an exam I supervised Thursday night, I noticed one of the girls in the room was crying her eyes out. I guess she hadn’t studied or something. All the students have to get their exams signed by the superviser as they leave the room. The crying girl had managed to get her emotions in order when I signed her exam for her, but then a big glob of snot flew out her nose and landed on my signiture – which set off the waterworks again…
If you don’t live in Melbourne, you may not be aware of the proposed “Grollo Tower”, which was to be the tallest tower in the world. There’s been a lot of opposition to it, mainly because of the giant shadow it would cast, but it’s just been announced the tower is no longer going to be built. It was shaped like a really skinny, tall pyramid with the pointy bit cut off. So it really made me wonder when I overheard a co-worker say they were “glad the tower won’t be built because it looked like a giant penis”. If that’s his idea of the appearance of the male genitalia, I sure as hell don’t want to see what his looks like.
Did anyone else watch that crap Who Wants To Be A Millionaire show on Wednesday night? The excess theatrics really made me laugh. Sure, you might be winning thousands of dollars with every correct answer, but when you’re getting asked questions as pissweak as (read in ominous voice with oh-so-suspensful music in the background) “Telstra is one of Australia’s main telephone service carriers. What is the other?” I personally wouldn’t be mopping my brow and pretending to poo myself like these contestants (actors? *cough*) are.
Conversation I had with an American tourist who was asking for directions today:
Me: Some people say that Melbourne is like New York without the crime.
US Tourist: Well, where’s the fun in that, then?
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I got off from supervising an exam this evening at my work, although I still had to work a little later than usual. It’s my sole purpose for living at the moment.
I visited the Body Shop on my lunch break today to be confronted with something that haunted me all day. I saw a product known only as Nipple Cream. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING AT ALL ABOUT IT!
A repair guy came in today to fix up a broken elevator near the office I work in. He was working on the premise of audio therapy, where he screams obsceneties at the elevator to make it work again. It’s prone to going to a different floor than the one you select, or not even going anywhere at all. So I was quite surprised when he yelled out at the top of his voice ‘YA STUPID POOFTER!’ to the elevator.
See, I always knew the elevator was stupid, but I had no idea it was homosexual. Silly me. We had a gay elevator all along… it sort of makes sense now. It always seemed to only play bad techno music from its speakers, and the pink-ish colour scheme is rather sus.
I’ve got a feeling the escalator at my train station might be bi. I’m told it goes both ways, anyway.
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Right now I’m working 13 hour shifts at my university – I’m supervising the evening classes’ exams. As you can imagine, sitting there for 3 hours tends to bore you shitless, so while I was sitting there tonight, I wrote down a list of all the little quirks you see the students doing. You know, fiddling with their hair, chewing on their pen; but I’ve also written a guide so you can see what the students really mean by their actions in an exam situation. Thus:
* Exasperated sigh: I’m only doing this so I get the bloody qualification.
* Absently picking ear: Maybe my ear wax holds the answers.
* Shake of head: Let me just re-arrange my brain cells.
* Rolling head around: Well, if the shaking didn’t work, maybe this will.
* Hand on hip: If I act sassily agressive to the exam, maybe I’ll scare it into letting me pass.
* Fiddling with engagement ring: I’m going to kill my fiance when I get home, even though it’s my fault I didn’t study.
* Continuous looking back at the old woman at the rear of the room: You’re old, you probably studied instead of going out and getting drunk all the time. Mime me an answer. Please.
* Continuous and excessive use of Liquid Paper: Maybe if I inhale enough of this stuff I’ll get smarter.
* Holding pen between two fingers and sucking on it: I really need a cigarette right now.
* Holding Liquid Paper pen between two fingers and sucking down on the Liquid Paper: I really, really need a cigarette right now.
* Continuous looking at the token Baywatch Bimbo of the class: Maybe your voluptuous breasts hold the answers.
* Skulling down beer: I didn’t even bother turning up to the exam because I knew I’d fail anyway, so I thought I’d just get pissed with my mates.
* Continuous looking at the token Baywatch Bimbo of the class, and there’s only 10 minutes of the exam left: If only your breasts weren’t so voluptuous, I might have actually answered some questions.
* Wobbling, jittery leg: I can’t think straight, and I’m working on the assumption that seeing if you shake an Etch-A-Sketch hard enough the picture is cleared, then maybe if I shake my thigh up and down hard enough I’ll be able to clear my head.
* You’ve just poured a glass of wine and are attempting to eat the exam with a knife and fork: I’m mad, and I think this exam is really a piece of roast chicken.
* Squirming in seat: I’m so nervous.
* Constant squirming in seat: I’m so nervous, I just shat myself.
* Inanimate objects suddenly levitate and burst into flame: Maybe summoning Satan for the answers to the exam wasn’t such a good idea after all.
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Sitting on the train today, I noticed someone blow his nose into his tissue, but then he did something I didn’t really expect. He opened his tissue in full view of everyone else to check out the goober he’d snorted out (no doubt giving himself a score out of 10). He probably has a whole system of texture, runniness, color, etc going every time he honks into a tissue.
Someone at work today bought some liquorice today, and on the bag it says “Eating Liquorice”. Think about this for a second. Eating liquorice, as opposed to what? Cooking liquorice? I asked the girl who’d bought it this, and she just absently shrugged, but then Ms Superior butted in (resident bitch at work) and announces “Maybe there could be erotic liquorice,” (this was obviously met with odd stares). “You know, to whip each other with and stuff.” This just confirmed how much I don’t want to know what Ms Superior and her fiance get up to after hours. Then of course I had to open my mouth and take everything too far. “Erotic liquorice.. hmm.. I guess you could call it confucktionery,” I said. I was met with even stranger stares. But that happens anyway without me telling bad jokes.
My flatmate has this Mario World game on his Game Boy, and it’s driving me nuts. I can’t get past the guy with spikes on his head who headbutts me, I’m not sure how to jump over a particular wall, and I’m still trying to figure out how to plant a bomb underneath this weird guy who keeps throwing rocks at me. (Oh. That last bit about the bomb, that wasn’t in the game. That’s me in real life).
Handy Household Hint #15023: Every morning when you get out of bed, wipe that eye-snot stuff out of your eyes into a jar. Then when you have collected enough, you can roll a fish in the dried up eyesnot you have collected, and voila, you have a crumbed fish. Tasty, efficient, but most importantly, economical. Plus you’re recycling.
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I found out something interesting today. There are heaps of recycling bins in my workplace, and I make extensive use of these. I even walk the extra distance away from my desk so I can be environmentally friendly, and throw my paper in the recycle bin.
I found out something I’m not supposed to know today. The recycle bins actually don’t get recycled. It’s just to make the business look good. How wacked is that? And to think that in the 3 months I’ve worked there, I’ve probably spent an average of about 3 minutes per day walking to the bin. So.. (hang on… hmm).. I’ve wasted about an hour of my life. I guess I’ll have to wait for daylight savings to come around again before I can claim that wasted hour back.
Because I had Monday off, I had the opportunity to watch some fantastic bad television. I always like watching kid’s game shows, because the hosts are always so crap. I think hosting a kid’s tv game show must be the jobs they give to the people who flunked in TV school. I watched something called Wipeout on Channel 7. The host was just ridiculous. There’s such in depth conversation on these shows..
Dickhead guy hosting the show: And here we have Damien. Hi Damien.
Kid: Uhh. Hi.
Dickhead guy hosting the show: So Damien. What do you like to do.
Kid: I dunno.
Dickhead guy hosting the show: Uhhh, yes you do. What were we talking about backstage just before?
Kid: Umm. Oh, I like basketball.
Dickhead guy hosting the show: GREEEEEAAAAT!!! (flailing arms everywhere) WOW! SO I bet you want to be a pro basketballer when you grow up!!!
Kid: Um. I guess so.
Dickhead guy hosting the show: GREEAAAAAAT!!! Well, let’s play WIPE OUT!! (cue hyperactive music and shots of sugar-fuelled kiddies in the audience)
It’s almost worth watching this show just trying to guess how many centimetres deep the makeup on the host’s face goes. It’s a shocker.
There’s someone at my work who always makes everyone feel like they’re stupid (there’s always one wherever you work). I think I’ve found the key to my revenge today, though. You see, my desk is right near the stationary cupboard, and I’ve noticed the odd rate at which Pacers disappear at my work. (You know, those refillable pencil thingies). Today, I noticed this particular staff member excalim out loud, “Oh shit. My Pacer’s empty”, and then witnessed them throw the Pacer in the bin and trot off to the cupboard to get another one.
I find this quite amusing. This person doesn’t realise Pacers are refillable. I was going to mention the fact to her today, but I’d rather be heartless and vindictive and announce the fact to her when there’s more staff members around. Or maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I’ll just keep this little nuggety fact until I need it.
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At work today, I ventured into the staff lunch room. And then wished I hadn’t. I remembered why I’d been staying away from the place. Every day at lunch time, a certain subculture of the staff at my work huddle together to try and work out the daily general knowledge quiz in the Herald-Sun newspaper. There’s 10 questions. On average, with the power of their 6 minds put together, they get around 0 right. Their record is 3 right answers. It’s painful to watch. I can hear their brains clicking.
Ms Superiority at my work (see yesterday’s entry) got a new desk today. It’s a very big desk. It looks like it’s off the Starship Enterprise, and whenever I sit at her desk to talk with her, I get this unnverving feeling. I think it’s got something to do with the way the desk is positioned, and the type of desk it is – it makes me feel like I’m being interviewed on a tonight live show. Maybe that’s why I always seem to make incredibly crap jokes while I’m at her desk.
You know how sometimes you jump into conversations, then the other people say something incredibly bizarre, and you wonder what the hell they could have been talking about to say something like that. Today on the train I thought I heard two women arguing about what colour they were going to dye their pubes, but maybe I mis heard them.
My classic “whatthefuck?” moment of eavesdropping in on a conversation happened last year on a bus. (There’s no end of lunatics on public transport buses, I find). I had just gotten down in my seat, and one of the guys behind me says, “Well, I don’t think you’re truly a pervert until you pierce your scrotum with a soldering iron and it just feels soooooo good.”
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Well, my car is still dead, so me and my flatmate had to actually walk to the supermarket today. The 7 minutes almost killed me.
Have you ever noticed when you walk into a supermarket and go to grab one of those red baskets you put your groceries in, that the basket on the top of the pile always, amost without fail, has a piece of lettuce stuck to the bottom? This always happens! Of course, there’s always the aisle with the suspicicously sticky floor, that never seems to becoming un-sticky. Somehow, I don’t think I want to know exactly why the floor is always sticky in the first place.
Conversation I had today:
Stupid friend: Are you still fighting?
Me: Who with?
Stupid friend: That woman.
Me: What woman?
Stupid friend: The woman inside you, trying to get out. Hahhahahahahahha.
(I don’t know how some people manage to crawl out of the abortion bucket.) *cough* Did I say that?
For the very first time today, I had some of that Mountain Dew drink outside of it’s bottle. I poured it into a glass and immediately wished I hadn’t. You see, Mountain Dew isn’t a green drink (as the green bottle would lead us to think). The color is urine yellow. Now I know why they never used a clear bottle.
For some reason, I was watching a Japanese class on Open Learning on the ABC at 4.00am last night on TV. It took me around 15 minutes before I could snap out of the transfixingly bad acting that was used to demonstrate the language. (Well, it was either Open Learning, or the Cyclone Rider infomercial – pity my favourite infomercial, the Space Bag wasn’t on that particular night).
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Right now my car is sitting in my driveway. I’m waiting for it to die.
You see, for some reason, the parking lights won’t turn off. The RACV won’t come out and fix it unless the car won’t start. So I’m being forced to wait until my car’s battery is drained so much that the car won’t start. Well.. I could get the RACV to come out while I can still start the car, but I’d have to pay for it.
I’m still in shock over the fact that I’m going to have to actually walk to the supermarket for a few days. Eeeek – exercise! (It’s a well known fact amongst my friends that I have a quite physically violent reaction to the words “Aerobics Oz Style”).
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It’s Easter. Hence, the acquisition of chocolate eggs, whether you like it or not.
Of course, we all know that Easter chocolate tastes ‘different’. But have you noticed how there’s always somebody that you know that won’t eat their eggs for months on end? Will just leave them there? Someone was talking about this on the radio today and I couldn’t agree more.
There’s always someone. You know, somewhere in August they start going “Huh, I’ve still got some Easter eggs left and you don’t.” The thought that they might actually have gone off doesn’t enter their minds, I guess.
Most Amusing Home Brand Product of the Week #1: Imitation Raspberry Flavour Cordial. (It exists!)
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