Scott's zombie American Idol

"Tonight on American Idol, zombie Bub puts all on the line before the judges with his interpretation of the Beatle's 'Yellow Submarine'!

Zombie Bub: Graaaaaaahhh...

Simon Cowell: Well that was simply the worst thing I've ever heard. I mean it wasn't even singing, it was just moaning, and it wasn't even in time!

Paula Abdul: Shutup Simon! He's a zombie, he's done really well to get here and I for one love him!

Simon: Oh shutup yourself, you silly slag! He's rubbish, you're rubbish, you haven't even got the brains for the zombie to eat, you're....arrrgh! She's set me on fire!"

All this an more on tonight's spellbinding episode of American Idol! Brought to you by Zombie Motors, we put the 'Graaaaahhh....' back into driving!"

Scott is followed by pirates

I'm sure the boy would prefer not to have a pirate vessel tagging along by his side.

"Hi John, how are............um, is that a pirate ship?"

"Look, just ignore it ok? It just started following me around and it won't go away."

"Ignore it? Its a frggin' pirate ship! Look, its even got pirates on board! AND they're buckling swashes!"

"They're doing it to get attention. Just pretend they aren't there ok? God this is so embarrasing. What am I going to tell mum? There's not enough petfood for them AND the cat and dog at home! LOOK, FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO FOLLOW AROUND, WILL YOU?!"

"Aww....look, now you've made them all sad. Hey, I wonder if they can do any tricks?"

"I don't care, I just want them to go away already."

"Nah, I bet they know all kinds of cool tricks, like.......pillaging and plundering and stealing booty. HEY BOYS, CAN YOU STEAL BOOTY? CAN YA? HUH? HUH? Aw look at them, they're so cute, they're bouncing all around the place in excitement!"

"Damn it Paul, stop encouraging them!"

Scott doesn't like work

Scott:
how dare a client call me on my first day back at work to discuss his case! Doesn't he know I have no idea about his case and that I can't be arsed looking at it right now?! The rudeness and impertinence of the man!

Rebecca:
Did you explain your displeasure to the client?

Scott:
no, i just sounded like a derelict drunk muttering about babboons spying on me

"Mr Brennan, can I email you my reponse to your letter rather than mailing it by hand?"

"muttermuttersnortmutterdamnbabboons......is'll a consp...a con....a sponcriracy by theguvment.....muttermutter....eyes....wha' me e'rywhere....robot mon'eys!"

Scott on James's wrongness

The relationship between weasels and the prevalence of ferocious mountain gazebos is not linear but in fact exponential. Eventually the number of weasel/gazebos reaches a steady state of supra-inverted quantum matter that I call "Hurtzberger Prime". The formation of HP matter conculsively proves that I am unable to achieve the same state of wrongness that James is able to.

Scott's wenches

Amber:
Scott, we should have thrown him a wench

Scott:
I'm all out of emergency wenches, unfortunately.

Amber:
get me a fathom o' wenches! On the double! Yarrrrrrrrr

Scott:
Quick, Timmy's fallen down the well! Throw him the emergency wench!

Amber:
Sarge, I've just been downstairs and our emergency wenches have all mysteriously disappeared. You know we've already talked about this kind of thing.

Scott:
Go search the lockers, Constable, I think you'll find the wenches stuffed inside. The boys have obviously forgotten to put the wenches back in the supply room after use.

Scott the mad scientist

Amber:
James is alive!

Scott:
Its allive! alive! *cackles* Those fools at the Royal Society said it would never happen, but they were wrong! Muahahahahaha! Today I am a god!

James:
You always were a mite dyslexic, Beauregarde - today you are, in fact, a dog.
Now be a good boy and fetch my slippers.

Scott:
Bark!

Scott speaks LOL cat

"dear mr bossman,
can I has hometime now, plz?"

"Dear Mr X,
Noooooo, we be taking your visa!! lolz!"

Scott and bureaucracies

Annoying Person: "I understand you're looking at this case."
Me: "Yes I am"
AP: "I'm preparing a possible sensitive case report for John, though I don't really know who that is, and was wondering if you could give me a briefing on what you've done so far."
Me: "John is my director, I've already briefed him on the case AND given him a possible sensitive case report. You don't need to do one."
AP: "Well that's fine, but I still need to prepare one."
Me: "ITS ALREADY BEEN DONE."
AP: "I understand but I have to keep John informed of the progress of this case."
Me: "He's my director, I'm meeting with him daily."
AP: "Yes but.....sensitive case.....informed.....seeking justification for my existence....bananas are spying on me...."
Me: "Fine, here's the sensitive case report I've written, you can take my name off it and put yours on."
AP: "Thank you, and if you can keep me informed of the case."
Me: "But you're not from this section and it has no impact on you, your director, your section or anything even remotely linked to your putrescent existence!"
AP: "You still need to keep me informed because I am clinically insane and will destroy you and everything you stand for if you don't."
Me: "Fine. Nothing has happened. Nothing will continue to happen for several weeks. I will keep you updated as nothing continues to happen."
AP: "Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me I need to run around the office with my underpants on my head."

I hate the people that work in bureaucracies.

Scott on spork usage

The spork was favoured by many roman gladiators as their weapon of choice. Fights between dedicated spearmen and sporkmen were something to behold. Pliny the Younger records that the gladiator Sporkus Porcupinius won more than 50 fights with a spork, including a famous fight against a dozen germanic tribesmen, a lion, two tigers, a Persian on a war elepant and a small elderly goat. The Emperor eventually awarded him the Spork of Freedom and he eventually went on to become a respected senator.

Scott's memory

James:
Yesterday a girl I work with said that one of her uni classmates has a "photogenic memory".

I tried really hard. I promise I did.

Then I pissed myself laughing.

She was a little offended., but I assured her I was laughing at the mental images it generated, not at her being dumb.

Scott:
I hate photogenic memories, they always look so much better in photos than my memory does. My memory always looks like a mad escapee from a hair factory explosion.

Scott's god

James:
Wait on... is God part of nature, or is he supernatural, not of this earth?

If the latter is true, then god isn't natural and humans should shun God!

Scott:
I do, which is why I worship a small orange called Bert.

James:
Ahhh, peace with you, my brother in Bert.

Rebecca:
Is that the one near Claire's desk that has offerings of confectionary and plastic containers to appease it nearby?

James:
I am glad to hear that you and your colleagues know the correct way to honour the sacred image of Bert.

Scott:
Bert is all-knowing and all-powerful. Fear his citrus wrath!

For verrily did not the prophet Josephin of Mandarin say "thou shalst bringeth unto him an offering of small, useful containers that you shall stack in a great heap until one day when you open the cupboard door and they all fall out on the kitchen floor."

James:
"That day shall be the Sabbath of Bert," didst Josephin decree. "The true believer of bert shalt not engage in forbidden activities on the Sabbath of Bert. For full details of forbidden activities, please consult the Cult of Bert intranet, updated daily."

Scott:
"For shouldst thou undertake a forbidden activity in the presence of the Lord Bert, great shall be his wrath and he shall smite thou from on high, declaring "Pwned!!! Noob! lol!""

Scott is diseased

Rebecca:
I don't want your diseases

Scott:
Scottness is contagious. Soon you'll all be infected and my evil spazzy plan to take over the world will have come to fruition. Muahahahaahahahaha ooo cheese!

Scott writes a book for Oprah

Scott:
Not even if I plan to write a book that would appear on Oprah Winfrey's 'Book of the Month Club'?

Rebecca:
You don't want that

Scott:

mmmm....it does tend to make the authors a lot of money....

"Let me tell you about this month's book! This is best book you'll ever read! Its called "How to Love the Man You Love Who Doesn't Love You Loving Him While Learning How to Release Your Inner Strength and Achieving Financial Security and Thinner Thighs in 30 Days!"

Rebecca:
But you wouldn't take it seriously and it'd be a huge laugh... and well its Oprah

Scott:
It'd be fun.

"So tell me Scott, why did you decide to write this book?"
"Let me tell you Opie, if I can call you Opie, I looked at the lazy, incapable, braindead people in your audience and thought to myself "I can screw them over....I mean, I can help them achieve everything they've ever wanted!" and, well, it just flowed on from there. All I've ever wanted to do is to screw...uh, help your audience and I'm glad so many people have learnt so much from buying my book for the exorbitant price its being sold for."

Scott on literature and populist trash

Literature: books typically featuring little plot, characterisation, or structure but full of vaguely evocative prose hinting at hidden feelings of something or other. typically features a poor orphaned peasant child from a former USSR republic, abused by those around him, who find solace sitting by the village well looking at the clouds and dreaming of the day he can own a shiny new goat of his own.

Populist trash: books typically overloaded with so much plot that they practically leap out and slap you silly. often feature multiple story threads, characters with multiple (and occasionally conflicting) motivational story arcs, bounding leaps of logic, and, best of all, an immense sense of fun and enjoyment.

I like to read stuff that is fun and goes somewhere amazing, or at the very least interesting. i feel both those aspects are somewhat lacking in literature.

Literature:

'The cloud shadows moved over the prone form of Igorovich Kolopsky like the shifting veils of belly dancer, revealing and then hiding tantalising glimpses of his street orphan form. And yet, lost in the liquid haze of memory and the slow burning fire lit by his last hit of morphine, all that occupied his mind's eye was the image of his grandfather's favourite goat...'

Populist Trash:

'Detective Igorina Kolopsky moved like a panther, her black leather military police uniform clinging to her figure like a drunk and his bottle of methylated spirits. Observing the carnage wrought by the latest appearance of vampiric werewolf zombie fiends, she fingered the trigger of her ridiculously powerful handgun and licked her lips, causing the blood pressure to immediately spike in her fellow officers....'

"She moved like an oiled leopard on roller skates, gliding across the room with barely a squeak. He'd been following her for at least 2 hours now and he'd had to admit that she was good. He'd almost lost her in Picadilly Circus, when the moonlight had shone off her tightly leather clad arse and temporarily blinded him, but he'd been saved but a timely cloud and was able to pick up her trail again by following the comatose and drooling men left in her wake."

Scott creates logic

Scott:
anything is possible.

Rebecca:
hmm, I don't think it is

Scott:
bah! anything! follow quantum theory deep enough and its entirely probably that the universe is populated with chairs. in fact follow the logic deep enough and it becomes almost impossible that its not filled with chairs.

Scott uncovers the kittens' master plan

Scott:
"Soon, my fuzzy brothers and sisters, soon we will have absorbed the world's supply of cuteness and then we will be able to take over the world! The world shall bow before us, the new fuzzy masters! Muahahahahaha!! But first I need to petted and tickled under the chin."

James:

"Representatives of the United Nations! behold your new leader!"
"Awwwwwww, he's so adorable!"
"Yes, adorable. My unchallenged adorability shall control you. Your wills are now mine."
"Awww, okay kitty kitty. Whatever you say."

Scott on James

Stock market analysts were taken by surprise today by an intense flurry of trading in Suck shares. Analysts have suggested that much of the activity was the result of the James Corporation making a run on Suck shares through a variety of hedge funds. Chief analyst at the Commonwealth Bank of Australia was reported as saying that "clearly James am teh suck".

Scott's great political wit

"Good lord Henry! Did you hear the news?? They're claiming Howard is 'aping' George Bush!"
"What?? I will not stand for that at all! Its my duty to write a letter to the editor on behalf of all of us great apes! Are we not intelligent, cultured and possessing of superior social and tool using skills?"
"Indeed, Henry. But don't forget to fling poo at them as well."
"Of course not Richard, one can never forget to fling poo"

Scott imagines a Tasmanian astronaut

"Congratulations, Commander Mushkin, you are the first Tasmanian to walk inspace!"

"Thank you ground control. Its really amazing out here! The Earth is so very beautiful, I'm moved to give my own tribute."
"Mushkin, this is shuttle commander Johsnon, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I brought along a bottle of champagne to celebrate the moment. It probably got a bit shaken up during liftoff but I'm sure it's still good."
"What?! Were you asleep during the NASA training? Do you have any idea -"
*pop* *woosh*
"*sigh* Ground Control, this is the shuttle Magical Trevor. We have a premature re-entry of one Tasmanian astronaut."

Scott and James discuss the empire

Scott:
"I say, Sir Reginald, these natives don't seem to be at all keen to become part of the Empire. Perhaps the Royal Society should have embarked on some research before sending us to colonise them?"
"Research. Bottomley? Pah! One does not need research! One simply does! We are men of action, what?! I say....gack!"
"Sir Reginald? Sir? Oh dear. What do you think, Gerald?"
"I think Sir Reginald should have researched how to avoid getting speared in the throat, Sergeant."
"Wise as as ever, Gerald."

James:

"I say, Sir Ramsbottom, this Africa thingummy. It seems to be rather... larger than anticipated."
"Dashed indecent of these fuzzywuzzies, in my opinion, Flatley. Once we've colonised we'll have to trim the place down a bit."
"Yes, that will be splendid, once we've colonised it. For now, though... I hate to be a bother, Sir, but we do only have three days' worth of cucumber and watercress sandwiches. That rather dusky fellow suggested our trip down the Congo may take weeks."
"Good heavens, man! You know what this means?"
"Yes. We'll have to eat the local, ah, cuisine."
"Yes, and me with my gippy tummy."
"The dusky fellow I was speaking to said we should have done some research before coming."
"Research! Gad! The nerve of him! We are Englishmen! If the world does not conform to our uneducated expectations, then that is the world's fault!"

Scott writes medical dramas

After this story

"Get me a vodka and orange, stat!"
"But doctor, you can't drink in the operating theatre!"
"Dammit! This man's life is in danger! If we don't cure his sobriety in the next few minutes he'll be dead!"

Scott write children's cartoons

Amber:
Meanwhile, it was only about a year ago that I found out that Spongebob actually ISN'T a piece of cheese.

Scott:
and here I was think that the word "sponge" in his name was a definite clue...

Amber:
Yes, but that would be logical.

Scott:
Hey kids, stay tuned for our next cartoon "Hermit Crab Jones Who Lives In a Bucket at The Bottom of a Filth Pond". Its about a talking gherkin that lives on the moon!

Scott on the gay bomb

After viewing this art work

Scott:
Is it called "Rainbow Brite Demonstrates Nuclear Capability"?

Rebecca:
Not that I am aware of

James:
GAYBOMB!!! MINCE FOR YOUR LIVES!!!

Scott:
"General Pansy, how much damage can we expect from this attack?"
"I've prepared some diagrams, Mr President. As you can see ground zero will have an effective radius of 5 miles from the epicentre. Anyone caught within ground zero will be immediately i-gay-diated."
"Dear god!"
"Beyond ground zero there'll be what I call the 'I Like it Both Ways' zone. We figure this will have a radius of roughly 10-15 miles and while it won't turn everyone inside it gay, it will definitely affect their sexual orientation to some degree and we do expect a dramatic rise in the number of tight leather pants being worn."
"The horror!"
"Outside of these zones the effects should be less but will also be unpredictable. We don't know how far these will spread but we're already seeing affects as far away as us here in Washington."
"How so, General?"
"Well for example before the attack my uniform wasn't pink and my name was General Studly McButch."

Scott has weird dreams

So last night I dreamt that I was some kind of an expert on Egyptian occult, specifically the malevolent spirit of Tutankhamun, who was apparently quite evil and demonic. Some kind of Discovery channel/live stage act team managed to set his spirit free despite my warnings and protestations, and then I had to embark on a quest to recapture his spirit. For some reason this meant teaming up with a bunch of violent outlaw redneck truck drivers. This also meant we had to gather at a brothel/truckstop on the outskirts of Brisbane......the logic seems to be missing. Anyway, the spirit of Tut found us there and burnt the brothel to the ground, incinerating several hundred people mid coitus, except my squad of violent repulsive truck drivers who hadn't yet got round to choosing who they wanted to sleep with, and except me who'd gone to bed early in order to regain my strength for the showdown with Tut. We then traced his spirit to a nearby Coles supermarket and I decided to try to summon and bind him in the fruit and veg section. However, as I was uttering my binding chants I realised that was I chanting was absolute nonsense but decided to keep going on the grounds that it sounded vaguely mystical and Egyptian. It didn't fool the truck drivers, who started getting a bit angry but it still worked and Tut was summoned. As I was attempting to trap him in the body of an empty-headed fashion model I'd brought along specifically for the task, I woke up.

I think my subconcious comes up with such bizarre dreams deliberately in order to piss of dream readers.

Scott on snorns

Scott:
so what is a snorn?

Rebecca:
long drawn out snore?

Scott:
it sounds almost alive

Rebecca:
Its alive! And not alice as I first typed

Scott:
Alice the Snorn

Rebecca:
*laugh* That could be an interesting character.

Or just weird... "Oh I name my snores, they're such a different part of me"

Scott:
"And here comes Alice now..... guuurrghrururrgrurrurururururururhruhruhrrhurhrrrsncukryfyr"

Scott quotes sporks

Amber:
Sporks. Oh, the sporks.

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

James:
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!

Scott:
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...

Michelle:
A spork, a spork, my kingdom for a spork

Now is the spork of our discontent

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

Michelle:
Titus Andronispork

Scott:
Something is rotten in the spork of Denmark

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

James:
Dumplingkrantz and Rosenspork are dead...

Scott on Fitz...

James:
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.

Scott:
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

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"

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!

Scott starts writing an opera

Scott:
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!

James:
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!

Scott:
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?
No!
Can I have a pen that won't ink spray me?
No!
A stapler that won't staple me?
No!
A pad with more than pages three?
No!
Paper recycled instead of from a tree?
No!

For I am the queen of stationery

and I deny your request
I deny your request
I deny your requeeeeeest
because I'm me!

James:
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!

Scott:
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...

James:
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.

Scott:
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!

James:
I'm no stranger to sarcasm, sir.

Scott:
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.

James:
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?"

Scott:
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!"

James:
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."

Scott:
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.

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.

Scott discusses the workings of the public service

i'm sorry but i think you've come to the wrong office if you want silliness. this is the Department of Serious People Doing Serious Things With Very Serious Looks on Their Faces. The Office of Loons, Spazzes and Just Plain Weird Stuff is next door.

Scott likes pies

Amber:
The Pie-Eating Samurai... now there's a movie waiting to happen.
And for variation's sake... The Pie Eating Samurai

Scott:
"You have dishonoured my pie!"
"No! Your pie dishonours you!"
"Aooowwwww!"
"Eeeeeoooaawwww!"
*spectacular 2 hour fight scene followed by end of movie credits*

James:
"Master Crusty! The evil Dragon Weng Flaky is outside! He demands we give up the secrets of our legendary Pie Style!"

Scott:
"Master Crusty, you would not teach me your Pie Style! Now I will take it like the autum moon takes the bamboo lute from a concubine!"
*Master Crusty strokes foot long moustache*
"Then let us fight with our minds, pie to pie! For truly there is no greater way to honour the Bakery of the Gods!"
*cue stirring music, lots of zooming in to narrowed eyes and snarling faces for the next, oh lets say 45 minutes*

Amber:
Somebody PLEASE get to blogging

Rebecca:
Oh when I eventually get access to my home PC and the internets I will blog to my heart's content

Scott:
*narrows eyes, strokes moustache*
Hold your hand, Autumn Blog Concubine, or I shall unleash a fearsome array of baked goods!

James:
"I laugh at your baked goods!''
*laughs out of synch*
"What you call pastry, I call a soft steamed bun!"

Scott:
"So, you mock the pies of our ancestors?!"
*florid and unnecessarily exaggerated arm waving*
"I should have expected as much from the Duke of P'ie's assassin."
*more moustache stroking*
"Hung Lo, Sofar Wae, show this peasant what a true Pie Master can do!"

Rebecca:
I am not afraid of baked goods, I consume them

Scott:
Then consume the Twelve Fingered Fist of the Winter Pie Crust Dragon!

Waaaaoaoaoaoaah!

Scott's religion

and lo! the Lord did appear before the Scotterites and didst instruct themin the Ways of the Lord, and so it was that the Scotterites didst turn to one another and sayeth openly "bugger this for a joke, i'm going home."

Scott comments on leagues

Rebecca:
And I have been told repeatedly there is no such thing as "leagues" by a man who then tells me that there are. Some double standard :P :)

Scott:
there are many leagues. there are those people that naturally slot into the equivalent of the top European football leagues, and there are those such as myself who find themselves in the equivalent of the 3rd Grade Khazakhstanian Regional Goat Hurling Championships, sponsored by Kolopsky's Horse Products, if its not made from horse its not worth buying.

Scott wants to go home

Rebecca:
Go home Scott

Scott:
can't. have stuff to do. woe be the stuff. woe be he that does the stuff. woe be the stuffee and the stuffer.

Scott's nature documentary

the predator eyes the herd of quiche beasts hungrily, watching for any stragglers or left-overs that would be too slow or feeble to outrun it. selecting its prey it uses its natural environment of office furniture as cover as it creeps within striking distance. suddenly it pounces and the quiche is caught before it has time to react. there is a brief struggle but the quiche is completely overwhelmed. thus goes life on the wild frontier of the corporate office.

Scott's revolution

let it be known forthwith that all those that have fridays off work and gloat about it shall be the first against the wall come the Revolution, by order of Comrade Scott, leader of the Shining Arse Monkey Brigades.

Scott sees cows

Rebecca:
You're a cow?

Scott:
No, I saw one. An office cow. They're very rare, you know. Scientific name is bureaucratus bovinus

Scott defies

Rebecca:
Scott you are banned from speaking

Amber:
'stop saying words.'

Scott:
Bah! I say what I like! Cheese radio grandpa muffin then because banana hat!

Scott feels murderous (again)

Rebecca:
How many times do I has to tell you that I nice?

Scott:
I dunno. Kill [this colleague] in [another office] for me and you'll never have to say it again. Kill her in a very bloody and painful way, preferrably involving gerbils and some sort of suction hose thing equipped with rotating knife blades that plays "Ode to Joy" and I'll give you a billion dollars into the bargain.

Scott takes on fundamentalists

After reading this article

Scott:
I'm gonna buy me a gun and kill me some fundamentalists. Yesirree bob, I love a collection of stuffed fundamentalist heads on my bedroom wall

"And this one I shot whilst hiking across the veldt. It ambushed me from a thick clump of acacia bushes and demanded I repent and denounce my sins. Fortunately I always travel the veldt with my game rifle at hand I was able to bring it down while it was in mid-pounce. It was a close run thing but as you can see it makes a fine trophy. Definitely one of the more magnificent specimens in my collection."

Amber:
I think I'd shoot them, then dump them

Scott:

Its illegal to dump fundamentalists, they're classified as toxic waste. you don't want them leaching into the soil and contaminating the wildlife. the last thing i need is to be swooped by fundamentalist magpies during breeding season.

Scott doesn't like change or chimney sweeps

Michelle:
why does everyone feel the need to change things? What's wrong with the way things used to be?

Scott:
I demand things go back to the way they used to be. I demand children be sent back down the mines and poor people must be made to clean my boots.

Michelle:
indeed - and don't forget the chimney sweeps

Scott:
now there's a cushy job if ever there was one

Michelle:
true - nice warm working environment, lovely decorative layer of soot, a big brush, and the possibility of a song and dance routine with Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins

Scott:
and weren't there dancing penguins involved at some point?

Michelle:
yes, Dick Van Dyke did dance with penguins in the chalk drawing scene where he and the penguins sang about all the wonderful women they knew but Mary Poppins was the best of the lot

Scott:
Oh, ok, different scene then. I was confused and thought the penguins were involved in the chimney sweeping.

Michelle:
in the chimney sweep scene, he was dancing with fireworks

Scott:
i'm not sure if that's more logical than dancing with penguins

Michelle:
is a Disney movie - logic doesn't come into it

Scott:
in that case why didn't he dance with screaming cannibal pygmy headhunters?

Scott teaches science

Today's science lesson, brought to you by Connex, providers of Cheap, Reliable and Amiable Public Transport, or C.R.A.P. Transport, is entitled "Yes, It Is Possible to Make a Train Journey of 5 Stations Last More Than 1 Hour", with illustrations by the famous conceptual artist Desperate Passenger.

Scott is militant

Let us celebrate our new found common cause by shooting some small rodents and invading a small landlocked country with an army of a half-dozen peasants armed with bananas.

Scott is multilingual

I speak Spazzlish.

Scott on robot angst

"Oh I am not worthy of your digital love!"
"My father never loved my diodes and therefore i have integer relationship issues."
"I was constructed with a 0.001% tolerance and I just don't know if that's enough any more."
"Is there a robot god? Will i go to Boolean Heaven when I do? Will my processor be judged worthy by floating point calculator at the gates of heaven or will I be condemned to be recycled as a web-enabled toaster?"

Scott and his pygmies

Scott:
Don't they know that every time someone says that, a screaming cannibal pygmy headhunter dies?

Michelle:
Obviously not - or they deliberately fiddled with the legend in Peter Pan because little girls relate better to fairies than to screaming cannibal pygmy headhunters.

Scott:
I believe in the original, true story: the children were led away by flying screaming cannibal pygmy headhunter to a magical land where children never grow up because that way their meat stays nice and tender.

Scott defines

archieved: having achieved archivement, which is like enlightenment but results in the achiever being locked away in a compactus in a subterranean vault with a barcode pasted to his/her forehead.

Scott on web design

Damn web designers.

"Say, you know how or webpage is easy to navigate and well laid out? Well let me tell you, that's old school. Web design has moved on. I propose we make everything much harder to find, we make navigation near impossible, and we embed lots of animations and flashy Java things that'll really slow down page loading."

"But won't that annoy our clients?"

"So? What do they know? This is web design!"

Scott meditates on chocolate

Today I bought some chocolate. I wasn't expecting a mind expanding experience, but was rather suprised to find myself entering a tranquil, calm and zen-like state while eating it that only experienced Buddhist masters on their fifth reincarnation could achieve.

Scott sexes up the classics

Scott:
you could be james' sexy science wench in a labcoat

Rebecca:
or your sexy librarian

Scott:
libraries are very erotic places. there should be more porn filmed in libraries.

Rebecca:
I'm sure that I could find some

Scott:
The Encyclopedia Sexannica
The Collected Works of William Dickspear
The Dewey Seximal System

Rebecca:
I'm disturbed and intrigued by your fantasies Scott

Scott:
So am I

Rebecca:
so, sexy librarians...

Scott:
enacting a pornographic Shakespeare knock-off entitled The Taming of the Screw, or possibly The Merchant of Penis

Rebecca:
And you told me you're normal? Hah!

Scott:
don't tell me you've never seen a production of MacBoff?

Rebecca:
I'm sadly lacking in the porn classics

Scott:
Philistine! I demand you go to your nearest library and request a copy of Titus Vaginacus.

Ok, that one just condemned me to hell.

Rebecca:
and an enternity in blogger heaven :P

Scott is not James

Rebecca:
I created a blog for James last night. http://insane-wisdom.blogspot.com

He said he wasn't Scott. And he's right, he's not Scott...
because Scott is sitting over there looking not like James.

Scott:
I look not like James all the time. I am not a looking-like-James demon.

Rebecca:
*imagines a looking-like-James angel*

Scott:
that'd be the angel of Lego Star Wars on PS3

Rebecca:
Scott you are an odd man

Scott:
God: "Angel James, why have you not taken up your fiery sword and met the hosts of Lucifer on the plains of Armageddon?"
Angel James: "Yeah, I'm going to I just need to get the last few parts of the land speeder."
God: "Are you playing a computer game? Now? While the final war is waged against the forces of darkness?"
Angel James: "Well.....no... yeah....but I've been trying to finish this level for ages and I keep getting stuck on this ledge between the two droids this moving floor bit."
God: "....have you tried become R2D2 and flying across the gap?"
Angel James: "Yes. D'uh. The droids just shoot me. And I need to cross the gap to get the last part."
God: *picks up second controller* "Hang on, I'll join in and we'll try working as a team."
[Lucifer storms in]
Lucifer: "Hah! I have defeated your armies, God, and now I shall slay y-… wait, is that Lego Star Wars?"
God and Angel James: "Yes."
Lucifer: "That game rocks. Hey, have you got a third controller?"

And thus ended the final war between heaven and hell, thanks to the distracted Angel of Lego Star Wars.

Scott is trippy

the golden ducks are talking to me i can hear their words they speak the words from the Tibetan Book of the Names of the Dead my hands have drifted away on an eddy of trout ohgodmytoeshaveturnedintoscreamingpygmies!

Scott is melodramatic

James:
I added many new bits to the Scott blog.

Scott:
how can there be many new bits?? there were no more bits left! you pack of vampires had sucked all my bits dry and left nothing but a drained a dessicated bit-less me lying on the floor! GIVE ME BACK MY BITS YOU BASTARDS!

Scott works hard

blog blog blog all day long. toiling away in the blog mines in 12 hour shifts, mining the precious blog material. filling the blog ships with the precious material to be exported around the world and sold on the international blog markets. yes, it truly is a blog driven economy.

Scott is a lunatic prophet

the gods of lunacy have smiled upon your husband

Scott doesn't like spiders

you suck with eight hairy legs of arachnid doom.

Scott writes a ministerial response (with some help)

Scott:
Mmmm ministerials. I am currently attempting to find the right language that allows me to stick the boot into this person but in as polite and diplomatic way as possible, yet still making it absolutely clear that he's not going to get what he wants and that he should stop writing letters to us. So far I've re-written each paragraph 3 or 4 times.

Rebecca:
"please go away you annoying specimin of slime before I find some domestos to dissolve you"

Scott:
Possibly not diplomatic enough.

James:
"I am going to ask you to please fuck off and die, but in order to save my time and yours I would like you to imagine that I made the request in a carefully-worded and entirely diplomatic way which none the less made it prefectly clear that I do indeed want you to fuck off and die."

Scott:
I can imagine the reply to that right now.

"Surely Natural Justice principles entitle me to seek review of your recommendation for me to f--k off and die. I am appalled that legislation allows you to even consider recommending an Australian citizen of 68 years to f--k off and die. If you do not allow me to seek review of your decision at the F--k Off And Die Tribunal I will be forced to go to the media.

Yours Sincerely
Mr Repugnant Monkey Scrotum"

James:
"I know it's a popular technique among bratty two-year-olds to continue asking for what they want until their parents get so frustrated that they give in to the obnoxious toddler's demands. Thankfully, most people grow out of this habit and learn to accept when the thing they are asking for is not possible or practical. You seem to still be in the bratty toddler mindset. Well, you know what? It won't work. Send all the whiny letters you like and you continue to get the same f--king response, though if this continues you may find it being delivered wrapped around a brick."

Scott:
Mind you, it'd be a brick designed by a government bureaucracy, so it probably be a kilometer long, made of tofu and must be delivered by hand by courier with a high security classification.

James:
"Can it be called something other than 'brick'? It's just that there's a popular song of that name that some believe is about abortion, and that's a politically sensitive topic that we would prefer to avoid. Could we perhaps call it a Requisitioned Construction Ceramic?"

Scott:
"And we're under some budgetary pressures, so we've had restrict the colour options to just one. We hired some consultants and they've submitted their final version of the RCC Colour Selection Project, to which senior management have agreed wholeheartedly with its recommendations because consultants know more than you. Therefore the RCC will only be availble in the colour "Beige Bird of Paradise Embarking on a Journey to Conquer the Congo River by Paddleboat". We feel this best reflects the values of the Department."

James:
"There was also some discussion on whether the RCC should be thrown overhand, underhand, or with the use of a mechanised throwing device. As the initial meetings on this topic ended without agreement being reached, the responsibility for deciding upon a throwing method has been delegated to a Throwing Method Special Committee. We are currently canvassing the department to seek committee members and expect that the selection process should be complete in three to four weeks. The TMSC will then seek public comment and meet four times over the course of two months, before a final meeting at which the throwing technique will be officially settled upon."

Scott:
i sit here in front of my Ministerial and wonder how I can make "no, you're not getting what you want ever, not even if you wait a billion years for the sun to explode and the world to be over-run by a race of super-intelligent cockroaches that build a thriving society based on a combination of the Westminster political system, the Dewey Decimal library cataloguing system and the Scottish highland games" more obvious and easier to understand.

Scott is a (not so) benevolent dictator

Scott:
ideally i should be in charge and have my own death squads under my command. then you'd see some improvements.

James:
We'd certainly see a whopping 1200% increase in death squad efficiency.

Scott:
death squads have been failing to meet target quotas for years. this situation is intolerable.

Scott is political

i think even the NSW state government is better than this one, and they're still dragging their knuckles on the ground when they walk and communicate via grunts and flashing their red backsides at each other.

Scott is a sook

it is my right to sook. it's in the Scott [surname] Whining Act of 1973. Section 127(3)(a) states quite clearly that "the subject shall be allowed to sook about those subjects as specified by Gazette Notice, subject to subsections 127(4) and 127(5)"

Scott's soul

Scott:
i have no sins. i am an innocent, sweet angel that brings joy and healing to all those around him.

Michelle:
you just made me snort

Scott:
and apparently also brings snorts to all those around him.

Scott can type

I've just realised that I've misspelt "workshop" through most of the decision record I'm writing and have written "wokshop" in its place. So now it sounds like this IT business is a small chinese restaurant...

Scott and friends rewrite the classics

[Michelle showed us this article about modernising nursery rhymes. Chaos ensued.]

Michelle:
The Grand Old Duke of York
He had ten thousand men
He marched them up to the top of the hill
Then he marched them down again

And they got upset by all this pointless marching and the Grand Old Duke was a victim of friendly fire...

James:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Reminded Humpty that he should have paid more attention to the OH&S posters dotted around his workplace.

Michelle:
Sing a song of sixpence
A pocket full of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie
And when the pie was opened, the birds began to sing
And the cook was found gassed to death in the kitchen because the oven was Smeg!

James:
Row row row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily merrily merrily merrily
But let's try not to think about the fact that this used to be a glacier.

Mary Mary quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And a few other things that got me locked up.

The other day upon the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today.
I wish ASIO would f--king well leave me alone!

It's raining, it's pouring,
The old man is snoring.
He bumped his head on the side of the bed,
And thus began a really unconvincing "amnesia" plot in 24.

Hickory dickory dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
The mouse base-jumped down
And was escorted away by police when he landed.

Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder why our SETI programme has so far turned up bugger all.

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill was found to have been acting in self-defence and got off with a warning.

Ding dong dell
Pussy's in the well.
Who put him in?
Little Timmy Finn.
Who pulled him out?
Representatives of PETA.

Scott:
Ring-a-ring-a-rosie
a pocket full of poseys
a-tishoo a-tishoo
we all caught SARS on that bloody shopping trip to Hong Kong

Michelle:
twinkle twinkle little star
Now I know just what you are
A piece of rusting rocket case
A rubbish dump, in outer space

James:
Pussycat pussycat where have you been?
I've been to London to visit the queen.
Pussycat pussycat what did you there?
I saw the queen get married to his long-time partner David Furnish.

Michelle:
My mother said
I never should
Play with the gypsies in the wood
If I did
She would say
"I just hope you haven't caught any nasty social diseases from that bunch of ratbags"

James:
Or...

If I did she would say,
"Isn't it wonderful living in such a multicultural melting pot." ...through gritted teeth.

Scott:
Peter, Peter pumpkin eater
Had a wife and couldn't keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell
which due to the wonders of modern genetic engineering was able to house her and her extended family quite comfortably

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
and a merry old soul was he.
He called for his pipe and he called for his bowl
and was promptly arrested for possession and use of crack cocaine

Simple Simon met a pieman
going to the fair.
Said Simple Simon to the pieman
"All right this a fucking robbery! If any of you fucking pigs move I'll execute every mother fucking last one of you!"

(with apologies to Quentin Tarantino)

James:
An alternative...

Simple Simon met a pieman
Going to the fair.
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Are these organic?"

Michelle:
Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, lawyer

Scott:
Yankee Doodle came to town
a-ridin' on a pony;
declared himself the king of pimps and had his pony tricked out with a full low-rider setup, spinners and and a pair of 1500 watt subwoofers

James:
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat.
Please put a penny in the old man's hat.
If you haven't got a penny,
A ha'penny will do.
If you haven't got a ha'penny,
Then could you spare a couple of dollars? The Salvo shelter is full tonight and I need to pay for a room or I'll be sleeping on the street, oh and I need to buy a meal and there's a really important phone call, so if you could spare some silver...

Scott:
Polly put the kettle on,
Polly put the kettle on,
Polly put the kettle on,
all right all right, i bloody well heard you the first time! if you want it that badly get off the couch and make it yourself!

Michelle:
Round and round the garden
Like a teddy bear
One step, two step
And a painful discovery that bears have big claws and sharp teeth

Incy wincy spider
Climbed up the water spout
Down came the rain
And washed the spider out
Out came the sunshine and dried up all the rain
But the spider had drowned and was buried under ten inches of mud

James:
...and incy wincy spider said "Goddammned Melbourne weather!"

Georgie porgie, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry,
So he consulted Cosmopolitan to improve his kissing technique.

OR

Georgie porgie, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
When the boys came out to play,
Georgie kissed them too, because he was bi.

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child must work for a living,
But the child that's born on the Sabbath day
Is far too sensible to believe in any of that astrology bullshit.

Scott:
one two buckle my shoe
three four a knock at the door
five six its those drug squad pricks!
seven eight make a dash for the gate
nine ten the bastards've got Ben!
eleven twelve into the front hedge I delve
thirteen fourteen there's guns a-pointing
fifteen sixteen in my pants a-pissing
seventeen eighteen the paddy wagon's waiting
nineteen twenty my sentence will be plenty

its raining its pouring
the old man is snoring
bumped his head
and he went to bed
and his corpse was found 3 months later by the police after they broke down his front door when the neighbours complained of the strange smell

Scott misreads

Scott:
BoM have issued a Flood Watch for South Australia, which includes Cuddle Creek. I find this very amusing.

"Cuddle Creak has burst its banks! We're drowning in hugs!"

James:
The only people ever to have lost a house to tough love...

Scott:
On re-reading it, its actually Cudlee Creek. This has failed to dampen my amusement.

James:
Cudlee Creek, the world's only naturally occurring river of fabirc softener.

Scott:
Poor cattle. They'll get trapped in the floodwaters and be turned into a cuddly soft and floppy heap.

Scott discusses working with God

Michelle:
I'd settle for EA to God

Amber:
"No, I'm sorry, you can't talk to him today.... No, not next week, either... Look - he's working offsite at the moment and he's quite hard to pin down... No, I don't know when he'll be back... yes, fine, I'll take a message."

*drowns in post-its*

Michelle:
I'm sorry, he's in an urgent meeting with the archangels - something about smiting the infidels...

James:
"I'm sorry, but his schedule is very hard to track - he moves in mysterious ways."

Scott:

God's working offsite? I guess that explains why he hasn't answered my prayers yet.

"Goodmorning, this is the office of Yahweh, the Creator of All Things, He That is Called 'I Am', Father of the Son of God, how may I help you? No, I'm sorry, he's not in the office today. I'm afraid we don't have a time frame for when he'll be back in the office. No. Sorry. Can I take a message? Hang on, let me find a pen that works......ok, and your message is?.........'Dear Lord, why will you not help us stop the invading barbarian hordes?'....ok, got it, I'll be sure to pass it on to him once he's in the office. You're welcome. Thank you. And I hope you have a lovely day. You too. Try not get in the way of those barbarian hordes. Ok. Bye bye now!......... Good morning, this is the office of Yahweh, the Creator of All Things, He That is Called 'I Am', Father of the Son of God, how may I help you....?"

Scott on crabs

Michelle:
Looks like you're first cab off the rank today - I just want to go home and lie in front of the heater

Scott:
And I read that as "looks like you're the first crab off the rank" and for a moment had images of a bunch of crabs in bowler hats and work suits waiting at a taxi rank for a taxi to work.

Scott revels in other's envy

Every male is jealous of me. I am the alpha of alpha males. I am the studly stud of Studley Park. Women tingle with excitement as I pass them on the street while man cower before my enormous balls of steel.

Scott on moving to greener pastures

Scott:
Oh, and you're doing the right thing. Time to move on to greener pastures. No wait, that's for cows. Time to move on to a more conducive work environment. That's better.

Amber:
A greener work environment!

A more conducive pasture!

Scott:
Working for a boss who's a REAL cow!

"As you can see I've re-written the greener pastures safety manual and prepared a powerpoint presentation for all new cows explaining the finer details of the cud-chewing and milking process respectively. So what do you think?"
"Moo."

Scott talks religion

Rebecca:
change the topic?

Scott:
i vote for Paths to Spiritual Enlightenment as shown by the Holy Order of the Gerbil Balancing Monks of Malta.

Rebecca:
so tell me more

Scott:
I don't know much about them, though from what I've heard it involves piling gerbils on top of each other in intricate formations, kinda like a 3 dimensional mandala of rodents. The Maltese nicknamed them the Hamster Stackers.

Scott and D&D

Scott:
*rolls eyes*

Rebecca:
congratulations, you rolled 13 on a d20

Scott:
did i make my saving throw?

Rebecca:
just. So, you're poisoned, but not going to die from it

Scott:
yay not dead! can i open the chest now?

Rebecca:
well yes, but the chest seems to have turned into a wheel of cheese. In fact, the whole room is pulsating in a sickly green colour. This may pass. Do you wish to wait a bit?

Scott:
mmm cheese!

Rebecca:
I thought you'd like it

Scott:
you need to write a cheese themed D&D campaign

Rebecca:
I have SO many D&D campaigns I should write

Scott:
The Quest for the Cheese Wheel of Unmentionable Yet Non-Specific Doom.

Scott tries politics

Scott:
I'm standing for election as the Liberal member for Arse Monkey.

Rebecca:
I want to live in that electorate

Our electorates need more exciting names

Scott:
you can be in the electorate of Grope And Goat.

Scott tries valiantly

Amber:
I'm reading the state police website... and I could have sworn that one of the options available after completing four years of general police duties was 'an application to the Arson Squid'.

Scott:
Arson Squid, the cephalapod superhero. If you need something set on fire in a hurry, Arson Squid's your man.....squid....thing. But he can only operate underwater.

"Look, a giant meteorite is heading straight for us!"
"Don't worry, Arson Squid will save the day!"
*cue stirring theme music, Arson Squid jetting through the ocean with a box of matches in its tentacles*
"Yay! Its Arson Squid! Save us Arson Squid!"
*Arson Squid strikes a match to no effect. He's underwater after all. He keeps striking matches, oblivious to the inherent problems with his situation*
"Uh.....Arson Squid doesn't seem that useful...."
*planet is obliterated by meteor. the end*

Scott never had a chance, genetically speaking

It's a little known fact that that an ancient ancestor of mine, named Scott the Unlikely, was the fourth wise man present at the birth of Christ. He was omitted from the Christian bibles at an early stage, though certain ancient Jewish texts refer to him as the Bearer of Unnecessary Gifts.

Scott is an anthropologist. Of sorts.

Scott:
*ponders the deaper meaning of chocolate*

Lee:
I read that as 'dapper meaning'.
It brought to mind a Mars Bar in a three piece suit and pinstriped trilby.

Rebecca:
Awwww that's so cute

Scott:
"I say, why not have a bite of me? We Mars Bars are far more civilised than those nasty little Flakes."
"Oi! What you on about you manky stuck up toff? She'll have some of me because i don't run around with me nose in the air like some ooo-la-la posh dandy!"
"Now listen here Flake, you watch your manners or it'll be the Queensbury's rules for you!"
"Oooooo! What you gonna do, Mars boy? Come after me with your dandy little Fantale friends?"
"Right, that's enough you rotter, you gutter chocolate! Take that!"
And thus began the bitter chocolate class struggle.

Scott likes stories

Scott:
None of my stories are interesting, you should know that by now. I am currently the world Boring Monologue champion

Rebecca:
that isn't true... we have a blog of your interesting stories

Scott:
Have I ever told you about the time I catalogued the variations in colourin the threads that make up the carpet?

Rebecca:
no, please do

Scott:
I was wearing a brown cardigan at the time. Or it might have been green. No, it was definitely brown. I got it from the Wensleydale markets for tuppence h'apenny, which was a lot of money at the time. You young people don't the value of money these days. Or the value of a good cardigan. A good cardigan can see a man through a lot of strife. Cardigans these days don't even deserve the term. Why I bet most of you young people wouldn't even know what a cardigan was anymore! And the browns you get these days, there's no brown in 'em at all!

Rebecca:
and then what happened?

Scott:
Enough of your rushing, you kids are always wanting everything now, well let me tell you, you'll get what you're given and you'll be damn well happy to get it. And choices! Don't get me started on choices! We never had choice when i was kid, it was just a clip over the ear at Christmas and a brown cardigan for church. None of these fancy pantsy colours you see girls wearing these days. What sort of colour is lilac anyway? Lilac's not a colour, its something that should be growing in your garden. Lilac cardigans. Who ever heard of such things? It should be brown all the way, brown from sun up to sun down. Lilac. Damn kids. And how come nobody wears dungarees anymore?

Scott tries lol cat

Rebecca:
I'm in your foyer, breathing your air

Scott:
I'm in your lift, going down on your floors

Scott on being watched by Big Brother

soon to be seen on Google maps: images of me smuggling cheese wheels and goats across the state border under my trenchcoat

Scott and James snort together, with help from Michelle

Michelle:
no fair making me snort with no warning - there should be laws against that...

James:
I vote for a smiling girl in a bikini walking ahead of Scott holding a big sign that reads "Snort warning!"

Michelle:
in this weather she'd freeze her bits off - at least make the bikini fur lined

James:
Sort of Xena-ish...

"Snort warning! Aaa-eeeelilililililili!" *smack!*

Scott:
If I'm following a smiling girl in a bikini then she might also want to have a sign that reads "Copious drool warning!"

If this keeps up we're going to rapidly use up the world's supply of bikini clad women.

James:
This must be avoided at all cost, mainly because we will then have to use bikini-clad men.

Michelle:
stop it - what little reputation I had left among my colleagues for being a professional is being shredded at warp speed...

James:
Mr Scott! Full ahead, snort factor 9!

Scott:
But Cap'n, she cannae take no more!

James:
Ye cannae snort the laws of physics!

Scott:
Its worse than that, its snort, Jim!

James:
Captain's log, snort-date 6473.5...

Scott:
Snort me up, Scotty.

Michelle:
Snorting frequencies open, Captain...

Scott:
Your response is illsnortable, Captain.

Michelle:
It's snort, Jim, but not as we know it...

James:
Snort.

The final frontier.

These are the voyages of the snortship Enterprise.

Its five-year mission: to explore strange new snorts, to snort out new life and new civilisations, to boldly snort where no man has snorted before.

[cue theme tune: snort snoooooort snort snort-snort-snort snooooort]

Scott's musical knowledge leaves much to be desired

dammit, you've summoned the evil spirits of Guns 'n' Roses into my head. "Welcome to the Jungle" has taken up residency in my brain and is doing horrible things to the furnishings.

Scott eats grapes

how can such a small grape contain so many seeds? I think I have discovered the fruit equivalent of the Tardis.

Scott makes spreadsheets

Scott:
i think i'm suffering from spreadsheet madness. i've just taken what was a 1 worksheet spreadsheet and turned it into a 5 worksheet monstrosity with enough formulas to put a small laundrette in a complicated orbit around jupiter and each of its 20-odd moons. on the upside, it allows me to provide management repots on practically any kind of stat, up to and including the number of dwarf desk elephants used as paperweights in the office. on the downside, i think i've managed to invert my brain. ow.

James:
I love making insanely huge, insanely complex spreadsheets. My favourite bit is colour coding them with conditional formatting. "...and see, when it goes below 40%, it turns orange!!!"

Scott:
my spreadsheet has that too. different conditional formatting colours for each type of investigation outcome. wow! plus, count 'em, 6 pie charts! 2 line graphs! and more statistical breakdowns than a whole fleet of Ladas!

James:
...and steak knives!

Scott:
...and for a limited time you can receive our free instructional steak knife video entitled "The Sharp End is NOT the Handle"!!!

Scott is a multilingual Doctor Doolittle

the french dolphin says "le squeak". the german dolphin says "das squeak." the swedish dolphin says "bork bork bork".

Scott doesn't like Melbourne's trains...

one of these days i want to hear the connex announcement so speak the truth, so instead of "connex apologies for the incovenience" it should be "connex mocks your pathetic attempts to go home and moons your elderly grandmother"

Scott finds something funny

and i laughed so hard i thought internal scott bits were going to break.

Scott critiques inferior weirdness

indeed. there's far too much slipshod weirdness around these days. too many people think all they have to do to be weird is to stick a label to their forehead and prance around like a loon. that's not true weirdness. weirdness takes many years to develop and is much an art as a skill. you can't force weirdness, weirdness must come to you in a moment of inspired inspiration.

Scott and arses

I am the random arse inserter

Scott the goat geek

I don't believe I ever claimed to be a science geek either. I am a goat geek.

Scott tries cursing

Amber:
curse these people!

Scott:
a pox on your house! may your cows moo backwards and your sheep seek toupees!

Scott is a chocolate deity

Scott:
I should go see my doctor but wait, I'm never sick! Muahahahahaa! I have the immune system of a god! All shall bow before me in worship!

Michelle:
here we go again...

Scott:
what, you make it sound like my demands for worship happen on a daily basis.

Michelle:
well, they do - not that we mind worshipping you, but surely you would prefer spontaneous worship rather than worship on demand.

Scott:
worship on demand is necessary. how can one know that one is a god if there is no worship on demand?

Michelle:
one knows one is a god if one is spontaneously worshipped - if one demands worship, then one risks turning into Caligula

Scott:
meh, power hungry lunatics have their attraction as well.

Michelle:
thank god (oops, thank Scott) you don't have a sister - though I suppose that means we will have the enlightening experience of seeing you declare war on Bass Strait...

Scott:
it mocks me. it deliberately keeps me from the Cadbury factory in Tasmania.

Rebecca:
it keeps you from turning into chocolate boy

Scott:
Chocolate Boy, the tasty-licious superhero.
"Don't worry ma'am, I'll save you! Wait...what are you doing?? Argh!! My leg!! Oh dear god, you're eating my leg!!"

Scott improves on Billy Joel

You may be right, but you're not normal, and I think I've found the goat that you've been looking for...