Scott is sexy

Rebecca: Scott will strip for me!

Scott: No, I strip for myself. Da-da-daaa... Oooh! I turn myself on!

Scott bans Christmas

The Department has determined that your claims for Christmas do not engage Australia's public holiday obligations and as a result your Christmas has been refused. Please note you have 28 days from the date of this letter to appeal to the Christmas Review Tribunal or to depart Christmas and find a new holiday altogether. Failure to do either by the date specified may result in your detention in a Public Holiday Detention Centre.

Scott on road building

Rebecca:
I'm only pretending to be here while I answer a bloody long survey... why did I have to be randomly selected?

James:
Have you ever used a theodolite before?

Rebecca:
What is a theodolite again?

James:
A theodolite is that telescope-on-a-tripod thing surveyors use.

Scott:
"Arrrrr", said the surveyor, "this be a fine place to build road. Fetch me pirate road building wenches!"

Scott writes songs about porridge

*sung to the the tune of the whitlam's "no aphrodisiac"*

Porridge for you in the kitchen
we're not having toast anymore
gotta eat it up quickly
or i'll give it away to the homeless and poor

There's no breakfast cereal like porridge-ness
as it drips off the spoon and goes gloop.

Scott writes to James's (now ex) boss

*stomps over to James' office*

Hi Andrew

I'm concerned about the lack of direction and instruction you've been providing James [surname]. The inability to provide him with information is not grounds to then complain about the quality of the work he produces, and I would fully expect you to improve in that regard. Additionally I find your lack of consideration for his personal situation to be appalling. With respect I think you should take your head out of your arse and allow me to kick said arse repeatedly with my big boots of stompy arse kicking. Failure to respond to this notice will imply consent to the arse kicking. Responding to this notice will also imply consent. You're screwed either way.

Cheers
Scott

Scott has special cheese powers

Rebecca:
the cheese fiend

Scott:
demonic and all-powerful

Rebecca:
oooh mysterious cheese powers

Scott:
yes. summon cheese, hold cheese. power word cheese. speak to cheese.

Scott's childhood illustrations

pictures of near-stick figure men with prominent nipples wearing top hats while swimming. a lovely picture of our dog at the time levitating outside the house with the wonderfully evocative description "my dog goes up and down". an easter card for my mother with a cowboy riding a dinosaur while a volcano explodes in the background all under the joyful motto "easter is dead. happy easter."

Scott on breasts

Rebecca:
that's why a whole lot of cross over things look bad on me. I don't have generic sized breasts

Scott:
i find the concept of generic breasts amusing

Scott on afternoon

pfft, you call this an afternoon? when i were a lad we had REAL afternoons, afternoons you couild sink your teeth into. you don't get those sort of afternoons anymore.

Scott is simple

Scott:
nah, i simple. cut me open and analyse my DNA and the chromosomes will spell "simple"

Rebecca:
Don't tempt me

Scott:
you and what army, puny human?

Rebecca:
Me and myself and I. I don't need an army bigger than that. If you so simple, you will crumble before my complication

Scott on being blogged

i hate you all and hope you get attacked by rabid mongooses. mongeese. mongooosi. whatever.

Scott and initiative

Scott:

*rolls eyes*

Rebecca:

and?

Scott:

I rolled a 9

Rebecca:

Well done you won initiative

Scott:

i attack with +3 flaming Paddle of Enforced Correction

Scott wins

Rebecca:

I nicely evil

Scott:

in the same way that Stalin was humourously vindictive

Rebecca:

that's no fair

Scott:

but you have dictatorial ambitions

Rebecca:

this is very true

Scott:

so the comparison is valid. i have now won the debate and will bask in my own glory.

Amber:

I hope you have a mirror or something, then

Rebecca:

and a big one at that

Scott:

indeed, for my glory is big. huge even.

Scott on his own sexiness and applying for a promotion

Michelle:

poor Scott - you'll have to rely on getting the answers right rather than coasting through on your looks...

Scott:

well I guess I'm in trouble now...

Rebecca:

well you can always not do it and just transfer into the city as an APS 6

Scott:

but $350 extra a fortnight is nice.

And as good as my looks are I don't think I can ask for a supplementary 'hotness' bonus from the department to match that extra money.

Scott and logic

If I have no idea what you're talking about then what you're talking about is completely illogical. If I had an idea of what you were talking about then world would operate in a completely illogical way I could expect my car to explode in a shower of chickens next time I put the key in the ignition.

Scott might go to a party

I guess I could wander along if I happened to be floating around your neck of the woods on that night, and I think the chances of me floating around your neck of the woods that night might well be high.

Scott complaining about the topics of this blog... already

did she pick my essay on the subjective nature of the writings of Camus? of course not. what about my dissertation on the similarities between the early writings of Jack Kerouac and the works of pre-raphaelite nuns with big bottoms? of course not. she chose a weird one.

Scott on James being excited to have received email from Rebecca

Becmail. Like Gmail but every email you write ends up being about elephants no matter what you initially start writing. By and large it has not proved to be as popular as Gmail, except amongst elephant trainers and pachyderm keepers at zoos

Scott doesn't aimlessly rant

Scott: yes but I am not some aimless ranter. My rants have subtlety and detail. Nay, even delicacy!

Scott on careers

Amber:
I want a livelihood based on Scott being weird.
I'd never have to work again.

Rebecca:
I keep telling him to be a comedian

Scott:
yes, but you're notoriously bad at picking careers for people :P

Rebecca:
And what evidence do you base that on?

Scott:
the fact that you told Adolf Hitler he'd be best suited as the breeder of rare ornamental chickens.

Rebecca:
well I was right. If he'd just followed my advice imagine where we'd all be now

Scott:
what, you mean facing an unstoppable army of fascist Storm Chickens? Being fired upon by tanks armed with pneumatic chicken cannons?

Rebecca:
that's the thing, chickens aren't unstoppable.... and you can cook the remains

Scott:
armoured fascist chickens. in tanks.

Rebecca:
pre-roasted chickens after you firebomb them
and who cares if they are fascist or not?

Scott:
the other chickens they are oppressing care

Rebecca:
I think chickens count for little in this world

Scott:
But not to Adolf Hitler, ornamental chicken breeder