28 September 2007

Scott quotes sporks

Sporks. Oh, the sporks.

Is this a spork which i see before me, the prongs toward my hand?

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the spork.

To be or not to be, that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind
To suffer the sporks and arrows of outrageous meatbombs...

Out! Out! Damned Spork!

By the pricking of my sporks, something wicked this way walks.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your meatbombs. I come to bury Ceasar, not to spork him.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleazy dumpling...

A spork, a spork, my kingdom for a spork

Now is the spork of our discontent

The quality of meatbombs is not strained,
It falleth like the gentle sporks...

Titus Andronispork

Something is rotten in the spork of Denmark

Alas, poor Meatbomb - I knew him, Horatio, a sleazy dumpling of infinite jest

Dumplingkrantz and Rosenspork are dead...

Scott on Fitz...

Hey, you know how "fitz" was traditionally added to the beginning of the name of a recognised illegitimate child (e.g. Gerald's illegitimate child is not "Gerald's son" or "Geraldson" but "Fitzgerald")? Well, there's an ex-union Labor guy hoping to get a seat in this election called FitzGibbon.

I got some unpleasant mental images.

The family always suspected that Sir Reginald went a bit "native" during his stint as ambassador in south east asia, and he certainly was very keen on his pet gibbons

21 September 2007

Scott's sick mind and body

I don't know if its the Strepsils making me sleepy or the lunch in the fresh air I just had, but in an effort to remain awake I have been coming up with headlines I'd love to see in the newspapers.

"Abbot and Costello in Swedish Sauna Tryst!
'It Was a Caucus Meeting' says Treasurer!'"

"Surgeon General Finds Surgeon General Bad for Nation's Health:
Causes Stress and Anxiety Which Leads to Heart Attack"

"Golf Stripped of Sports Status:
'We Were Only Kidding Ourselves' says Golfing Federation"

"Coal Industry Reveals it Bought Fed Government:
Declares it 'Matched Office Wallpaper'"

"Canberra Outlaws Rednecks:
Queensland Threatens to Secede"

"Bob Brown Sworn in as PM, Replaces COM Cars With Bicycles:
Backbenchers Snatch Up Nation's Supply of Extra-Large Bike Shorts"

"Pentagon Finds WMD: 'He's in the Whitehouse'"

"Connex Reveals Solution to Train Crisis:
Tells Commuters to Stop Going to Work"

"Bill Gates Buys Belgium:
'Let's See Those Linux Losers Copy This' Says Billionaire"

12 September 2007

Scott gives a medical warning

Surgeon General's Warning:

Snorting quiche can lead to blindness, deafness, impotence, irrationality, rashes, herpes, scurvy, ingrown toenails, baldness, ear sagging, brewer's droop, skin discolouration, buttock tumors, senility, sterility, excessive testosterone, miscarriage in pregnant women, miscarriage in pregnant sheep, chronic uncontrollable flatulence, uncontrollable barking, binge drinking, jazz hands and nose cancer. Quich snorting has also been implicated in the creation of conservative political parties, baptists churches, corporate lawyers, people that think Ben Affleck is sexy and breakfast radio DJs.

For god's snake don't snort quiche!

This public safety message has been brought to you by the surgeon general of America: protecting America from things it might consider fun.

Scott writes a new medical drama

Nurse: "Doctor! You can't feed gravy intravenously into his blood supply! You'll kill him!"
Doctor: "Dammit, I'm a doctor, not a chef! Now help me hook him up!"
Nurse: "Oh Dr McGravy, you're so sexy when you're commanding like that" *swoons*
Patient: "Hey doc, you saved my life!"
Doctor: "Damn I'm hot."

There, I do believe I have just created the hit new medical drama for CBS. It contains everything all the other medical dramas have, plus it taps into the current craze for cooking shows. I am a genius, and soon I shall be a rich genius. Muahahahaha!

7 September 2007

Scott starts writing an opera

Paperwork! Paperwork!
We're generating excessive amounts of
paperwork! paperwork!
I can't understand why we all need so much of this
paperwork! paperwork!
they just found a corpse under a huge pile of
paperwork! paperwork!

We are
The ones who love the tape of red!
We work
So slowly you might think us dead!

We fight
The evils of efficiency!
We love
Our deeply mired bureaucracy!

I am the evil queen of stationery
I deny your request maliciously
and yet order stock rapaciously!
I guard the cupboard key courageously
the staff are terrified of me
for I am the queen of stationery!

(the second part of the stationery queen section: the queen confronted by the pleading mob)

Can I get a leather bound diary?
Can I have a pen that won't ink spray me?
A stapler that won't staple me?
A pad with more than pages three?
Paper recycled instead of from a tree?
For I am the queen of stationery
and I deny your request
I deny your request
I deny your requeeeeeest
because I'm me!

Oh come, come with me,
There's a thing that you must see.
Let's use the photocopier for non-work-related things!

Some party invitations,
Or a map of railway stations,
It's a joy to run off mountains of non-work-related things!

Though the code of conduct says that it's prohibited,
Everybody does it just a little bit!

I need fifty of this flier,
And sheet music for my choir.
Let's squander corporate assets on non-work-related things!

I'll waste an entire forest
Printing jokes about Chuck Norris!
I just can't get enough of these non-work-related things!

I didn't get in til past 10 and i'll be leaving at 3:30
It looks as if I'm doing work but in reality i'm not.
I skip from cubicle to cubicle and I'm feeling kind of flirty
I'm the bastard of the office and I think I'm really hot.

Oh they call it harassment
And I am an embarrassment
I'll scream out 'entrapment!'
when they eventually bring me down

They say that when I'm gone they all feel dirty
and instead of smoking cigarettes i'm always smoking pot
i make crude jokes and say my keyboard's 'squirty'
I'm the bastard of the office and I think I'm really hot.

Oh they call it harassment
And I am an embarrassment
I'll scream out 'entrapment!'
when they eventually bring me down

Scott and deepest darkest somewhere...

The PS3 has a new camera peripheral coming out called The Eye, and a game for it called Eye of Judgement. Armed with that background, you may now enjoy the joke.

I may? Why good sir you are far too kind and far too free with granting your permission. I say withhold permission until the scoundrels agree to go back to work for a penny an hour!

I'm no stranger to sarcasm, sir.

I have heard it said that the natives of Limpopoland use blowpipes and sarcasm darts to bring down monkeys when hunting. Sir Reginald said that he'd personally witnessed feats of sarcasm accuracy of the likes never before recorded on 3 separate occasions, but then the man is prone to exaggeration, particularly after a sherry or two.

The sarcasm darts are amazingly fast-acting and powerful. Sir Reginald was attacked by a native when first attempting to make contact with the tribe, and was struck by a dart. One of his aides asked if he was okay, and the normally placid Sir Reginald replied, "Oh, sure, I'm fine - I just LOVE having poison darts stuck in my arse, didn't you know?"

I was speaking to Charles at the Royal Society the other day and he said that the ill-fated expedition of Sir Wallace McScroggin (imagine! a Scotsman in the Royal Society!) of 1885 was attacked by natives no less than 9 times. Sir Wallace himself was suspected of being poisoned; when told that half his expedition had fled in terror back down the river Swee he replied "No way, really? Wow. And you know what else? The sky's blue and this forest is full of trees!"

Other natives in neighbouring areas utilised different poisons in their blowdarts. When Sir Mallory de Ramsbottom was struck by an obsessive compulsive dart, his expedition was held up for several hours as he insisted on stopping every couple of minutes to check that the dart "really had been removed" and that there "definitely weren't any more". An expedition from the previous year broke down into petty squabbling after natives hailed them with passive aggressive blowdarts. Said Mr Harry Doughboy of the expedition's leader, "I have no complaints about his leadership. He does the best he can, and nobody's perfect. I think it's great how hard he works to overcome his many shortcomings."

Sir Wallace presented what I consider to be a somewhat fanciful report at the last Society gathering of mysterious tribe hidden deep within Limpopoland that even the natives are scared of. According to their legends there is a tribe that uses a bureaucratic inertia dart. When struck apparently the victim becomes completely unable to make individual decisions, organises never-ending roundtables and focus groups, and starts producing paperwork at an alarming rate. While I consider this to be nothing more than some local witchdoctor's flight of fancy, it would explain the now legendary disappearance of Sir Philbert Arthwarton's expedition of 1867. According to the members of the expedition that was sent to find them no trace was found, except for a whiteboard bearing the words "How can we leverage our synergistic enterprise solutions in a competitive expeditionary environment?" and the scattered remains of a draft OH&S report on the dangers of conducting expeditions in a non-standard workplace environment.

Scott describes Amber's borrowed car

A very rundown Falcon. A Falcon that should be driven by someone wearing a mullet, footy shorts and thongs.

Scott on breasts

At least they weren't generic breasts. They're all ... bleah. Just the like the Kenny G of breasts.

5 September 2007

Scott's election day promise

After this article

There is only one thing I want for my birthday and if you people don't deliver I'll have you all killed. I mean it. Anyone that doesn't vote as directed by me will their insides scooped out by a big spoon and replaced with spikey pineapples and fire ants.

Scott and the pink triangle

In the now extinct Hopkoopi dialect of the now extinct Hopkoopi indians of south america, pink triangles carried the meaning of "bugger! that damn boa constrictor is trying to eat my head again!"

Scott imagines the effect of James outing himself at work

"Have you heard?? James is bi!! *schoolgirl squeal*"
"James is going to buy what?"
"No! He's bi! BI! *schoolgirl squeal*"
"He's a bi- what? Bivalve? Bicycle? Biplane?"
"Noooo! A bisexual. You know. He likes boys as much as girls! *schoolgirl squeal*"
"Oh. So, what, you think we should buy him a cake?"
"What?? Noooooo! Why does he need a cake?"
"Well you're obviously making such a big deal of it that it seems we should do something to celebrate. Buy him a cake. In fact, go to the shops and buy stuff for a morning tea tomorrow."
"But.....why? What? How? I don't understand!"
"Go buy morning tea stuff because if you squeal in here one more time I'm going to stab you to death with my keyboard."

At least, that's one possible scenario of what might happen in some alternate universe somewhere. Hey, its not all bad, at least there's cake.

Scott names his future child

My son shall be named.....

Reginald Forsythe St. John Eiderdown Wallace Snodgrass-Wildebeast.

If he survives school with that name he'll be able to take on the world.

Scott discusses dinosaurs

Ramphorynchus Richardson sounds kinda posh. I can almost picture the bird, looking over its half moon spectacles, discussing politics with the other prehistoric birds and wondering why all the common working class birds can't all be rounded up and sent down the mines.