If you haven’t checked out ChatRoulette, I highly recommend it. This kept me and my housemate entertained for no less than 2 hours during last Saturday’s never-ending downpour and at first I was embarrassed to be talking to complete strangers in my pyjamas, but by the end I needed to be prised away from the computer.
Some of my favourites included:
- an old man picking his nose and eating it. “Hey buddy!” I said, “What are you doing?” as he stared us in the eye, picked out a booger and munched on it thoughtfully.
- some college bros in Ohio, just chilling in their dorm room, playing the ukulele and chatting to hot babez online
- a still image of a bathroom splattered with blood
- a replay of our own feed
- being asked to show my tits no less than eighteen times
- being called a dog-whore slut when I didn’t show my tits
- seeing various people masturbate and one girl taking it up the arse
- a group of South African students sitting around a room full of musical instruments, holding up a sign saying “SHOW TITS”
- getting flipped off by a bunch of thirteen year old girls/bitches.
Some of my favourite things to do on ChatRoulette:
- saying “Well hi there!” and then hitting NEXT before the other person even has time to reply
- telling everyone to read this blog
- drinking a glass of water very slowly as soon as I get a new person, and waiting to see whether they like it
- asking children where their mother is
- hitting NEXT as soon as I see the other person’s face.
During 2010 I hope to see this technology developed for IRL so I can take it to the pub and hit NEXT until I find somebody interesting to talk to.
Mum’s friend: I hate to say it, but your cat’s getting a little chunky.
Me: So’s your face.
Mum: Will you be home for dinner?
Me: Not if you’re cooking.
Mum: You’re being really obnoxious right now.
Me: So’s your face.
Girl at campsite: Ah-CHOO!
Me: Bless you.
Girl: Thanks. My hayfever is sooo bad here.
Me: Would you care for an anti-histamine?
Girl: Oh yes please!
Me: I’ve got Telfast or Phenergan, take your pick.
Girl: Phernergan? You take Phernergan? That’s used to drug children, you know. It’s used to drug them, so that they can be kidnapped or something. It’s really dangerous.
Me: So’s your face.
The best part of Poking Seaweed with a Stick and Running away from the Smell is when the kids are so poor and bored that they pull down their pants and run around the house half-naked while their mother tries to insert objects into their anuses, and you feel grateful that you did not grow up in Scotland.
The best part of Sybil is when the mother is angry with her neighbour so she takes a dump on their front lawn during the middle of the night, rather than just eating an entire cheesecake and bitching about them to her Bible study group the way my mother would.
The best part of A Million Little Pieces is nothing, because it is such a turgid steaming mass of literary rape that I wouldn’t waste a match to set it on fire.
I know it’s usually all fun and games and mangled feet around here, but now it’s time to get serious.
Sometimes people kill themselves, especially young dudes. And so, as part of the Man Week initiative (which aims to raise awareness about mental illness and addiction in males), Gavin Heaton, who is super nice, and Mark Pollard, who I met once at a conference, have both survived being young dudes and worked really hard to put together this book for men. The book is about all kinds of stuff – what it means to be a dude, how to cope when you’re a struggling dude, and teaching your kids important stuff about being a dude. All the proceeds go to the Inspire Foundation and they’re going to do awesome things with the money, which you probably don’t need anyway.
As a lover of men, this is an issue that is close to the place in my chest where a heart would normally reside. I also know what it’s like to feel crap and not really know what to do about it.
I wrote a story about my dad, who is awesome, and how he taught me some valuable lessons about what it means to be a man. You can read that, along with many better pieces in the book, which is now available for your purchasing pleasure.
You can find out more info about the book here.
If you are shy on cash, you can buy the eBook version for $15 here.
Or if you prefer a more “hands on” experience, you can buy the soft cover from Blurb and I will read it to you by candlelight.*
So dig deep and get a nice present for your pa or some other dude in your life.
*will not actually read to anyone by candlelight, not even Jesus himself.
me: how long did it take you to get home from the farm?
ex-boyfriend: well I stopped for an hour at the pub, so I got home two hours later than if I’d driven straight through.
me: no, you would have been one hour later than if you’d driven straight through.
ex-boyfriend: nah, two hours. One for the time I stopped, and one for the distance I would have traveled if I hadn’t stopped.
me: that’s completely illogical, you weren’t moving backwards at the pub.
ex-boyfriend: what would you know? Women can’t drive for shit.
This week I have written something for the rather clever and attractive Kate Richardson. You can read it here and then you should read her other stuff because you’ll learn far more over there than you will here.
P.S. If you dig that Hillsong shit, let me know because I am considering checking out more crazy churches and blogging about them. Fuck it, I will even visit a cult (other than Hillsong) if you guys are keen.