25 February 2009
Its socially ostracised by all the other fish.
F1: "Dude, I hope you didn't invite Gary to the party tomorrow..."
F2: "God no. Have you seen his head? Its, like, so gross."
F1: "Tell me about it, you can see, like, everything. It makes me sick just thinking about it."
F2: "Yeah, its....shit man, here he comes."
F3: "Bruce, Barry, wazzuuuuuup?"
F1: "Oh hey Gary."
F3: "So what are you guys up to? What's going down in your world? Yo bros, f'shizzle me rizzle! "
F1: "Nothing much, just waiting for something dead to drift by."
F3: "Yeah? Well I can't be hanging around jerking off with you guys all day, I gotta go find me some hos!"
F1: "See ya."
F2: "...........you know, that whole transparent head thing, I think its just a distraction."
F1: "What, you mean like he's trying to distract us from the fact he's a jerk?"
F2: "Yep. Come on, let's go find some weeds to swim in and out of."
"No, they've disappeared. Seem to have dropped off the sonar altogether."
"Sonar? Don't you mean radar?"
"Not with these guys. Keep an eye out for the periscopes, its the only way to track them but they can be difficult to spot."
19 February 2009
Your Department sucks. Seriously. It's like a ball bearing factory run by a bunch of hyper caffeinated inbred weasels. The incessant squealing is only drowned out by the sounds of things falling over and breaking. If you don't rein in your horde of furry insanity I'll come after you with a paperclip, some glue and a rubberband and show you just what I learnt from watching MacGyver.
The Bringer of the End Times"
Indeed, James must be like the incredible Hulk tomorrow for the road trip.
"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?"
"Hulk know, Hulk not care. Hulk driving puny car!"
"Well I can tell you that you were greatly exceeding the speed limit. What do you have to say about that?"
"Hulk smash puny speed limit! Hulk leave puny humans in puny dust!"
"Ok, now I could give you a fine for this. Can you afford a fine?"
"Nooo, Hulk no have pockets in puny shorts, coins all gone. Hulk sad."
"All right then, so I'm going to let you off with a warning this time. Slow down. Next time I won't be so lenient."
"Hulk sorry, Hulk drive puny car like grandmother instead."
"Excellent. I'd also suggest changing your music from Tool to Cliff Richard, its slower and less aggressive."
"GRAAARGHH!! Hulk smash puny policeman!"
17 February 2009
16 February 2009
"I'm a very busy man these days you know, but sure. Shoot."
"I'm from the DA's office and I'd like to talk about some money that went missing while you were in charge of it in Iraq. Quite a lot of money actually."
"Nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, son. I did my bit to help rebuild that nation for the greater glory of God himself."
"Yes well, we can't help noticing that the $500 million that was sent your way seemed to just.....disappear."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there doesn't appear to be any new hospitals or sewers or roads or schools or houses or, well, anything."
"Well you can't just start building from scratch you know. There's plans that need doing, and land to clear, and builders to pay and the like."
"Uh-huh. I can't help noticing that since your retirement from the military that you've built yourself a $500 million dollar mansion."
"Mansion?! Good golly boy, it ain't no mansion! Just a quiet little bungalow for the wife and myself."
"It has 60 bedrooms and an indoor monster truck track."
"Uh...no it doesn't."
"Yes it does."
"No, no, doesn't sound like my house at all"
"We're standing in front of it."
"Uh....no we're not."
"You just walked out of it."
".......well ok, maybe it is my house, but I paid for it and built it out of my own money!"
"You built a $500 million house from your military salary?"
"Sure I did...."
"Well you see its......made from recycled material that we, uh, scrounged from the local community and....garbage dumps."
"You're saying you just found stuff to make your house out of?"
"Uh, yes. Yes indeed!"
"Enough stuff to build a 60 bedroom little bungalow?"
"And furnish it too, of course."
"And you just happened to find a 5ft solid gold statue of yourself carrying a suitcase full of money out of Baghdad, which I can't help noticing appears to be the central item of interest in your front lawn."
"......would you believe it was a gift from a grateful Baghdad populace?"
"Oh. Listen, maybe we can cut a deal? If you give me, say, $100 million will you turn a blind eye?"
"Wait, are you suggesting I pay you a bribe to keep me from investigating you?"
"Sure, that's how it worked in Iraq!"
"Ok, I think I need to arrest you now before you do something bad, like breed."
"So where did all the construction money go?"
"Well like I said there were plans, equipment...uh....land to be cleared....workers to train and pay...and uh.....other stuff... Catering! We had to buy food for everyone, all the workers. Like.....tuna sandwiches and stuff..."
"You spend $500 million on tuna sandwiches?"
"Well I'm told there were other types of fish too."
"Um.........salmon? That's a kind of fish, isn't it?"
"So you spent $500 million on tuna and salmon sandwiches to feed a workforce that we've found no record of you actually employing who used equipment you hadn't bought to clear land that didn't need clearing to construct buildings that were never built?"
"Well when you say it like that of course it's going to sound bad!"
"So how should I say it?"
"We spent $500 million on good will gestures! Community outreach programs! Nation building! Social improvement networks! Synergised neighbourhood experincalisation opportunities!"
"Paying your bank account manager."
Paying my bank acc - wait, not that one."
12 February 2009
OH good god, can we please have a network that isn't outpaced by snails?
I was just overtaken by a snail driving a lamborghini. The snail was wearing sunglasses and had a scarf blowing in the wind.
[after a brief discussion about religion]
Purgatory is being stuck with a computer network where apparently individual bits of information are transported through pipes by gerbils with short term memory disorders.
...and you need to appeal to Bill Gates for an indulgence to escape purgatory.
Somewhere in your department an Ent is sitting at a PC, tapping his twig-like fingers on an over-sized desk, and muttering, "Hoom, hom, what the f--k is taking so long, hoom hoom?"
He was doing that for a while, but then he died of old age. Since then the squirrels that were living in his branches have had time to evolve a technologically advanced society that remarkably enough does not contain any computers whatsoever. All their calculations are derived from complex manipulation of walnuts.
Then I strip naked, grease myself up with warm butter, put a tricorn hat on my head, declare myself Napoleon, Emperor of the Wastelands and Saviour of the Five Cheeses and play Rock Band all night. Ah Saturday nights, you are my sole remaining joy.