Sometimes when you live in the Hills, you get gold in your letterbox. This arrived yesterday and I read it from cover to cover.

I’m not sure why, but I really want to know how much rice was given to these asylum seekers to pose for the photos.

Their passion is palpable.

Actually, this whole concept doesn’t even make fucking sense. The last time our household dealt hard, we were arrested and the police confiscated all our pot.

Sadly, this edition of the Hills Negotiator didn’t include a coupon for Jessica Mauboy’s new album. I have high hopes for issue #19 though.

I know it’s usually all fun and games and mangled feet around here, but now it’s time to get serious.

*loosens belt*

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.

Orthopaedic shoe inserts are potentially the biggest scam of the twenty-first century.

Introduced at the beginning of the new millennium and hailed as the western-world’s answer to childhood obesity, impotence, and red licorice, orthopaedic shoe inserts cost $4,000 each and can result in death.

You should not use orthopaedic shoe inserts if you are French or pregnant.

This is why:

BEFORE

AFTER

AFTER A LOT

GOOD GOD, THERE ARE CHILDREN IN THE AUDIENCE

Cabbie: Whoah.. haha, rough night?

Me: Excuse me?

Cabbie: You just look like you’ve been partying pretty hard.

Me: Right.. Can you take me to the Hills?

Cabbie: Sure. But just so you know, there’s a $60 fine if you vomit in a taxi.

Me: I’m not going to vomit in the taxi.

Cabbie: Okay, but just so you know–

Me: I’m fine.

Cabbie: You just look a little tired, that’s all. My mate rang me only half an hour ago cause some girl hurled in his cab. It’s a massive pain because you have to take the car to get cleaned, then you miss out on fares… So $60 doesn’t even really cover you.

Me: Take the motorway, please.

Cabbie: You know what the worst thing is? When people pay by credit. Man, I hate people who use credit cards. The driver doesn’t get the payment for at least two weeks.

Me: I’m sure it doesn’t take that long.

Cabbie: It does. Sometimes it takes months.

Me: I have cash.

Cabbie: Okay, but keep in mind it’s an extra $60 if you throw up.

Me: I’m not going to throw up.

Cabbie: Alright. Maybe we should stop talking and you can just concentrate on not throwing up.

Me: Sure, great.

Half an hour later.

Cabbie: Okay, so including tolls and the surcharge, that’ll be…$113.50

Me: Oh.. Do you take Mastercard? Put it through quickly, I’m feeling kind of nauseous.

Julia: Annik? Is that you in there?

Me: Yes.

Julia: I knew it!

Me: How did you know? Did you look at my shoes?

Julia: No, I just recognise the sound of the way you remove toilet paper from the dispenser.

Me: I think we should spend time with other people.

does drinking gin keep mosquitoes away?

I’m not sure, but I’m fairly certain Sam will be able to tell you.

is he slowly breaking up with me?

Probably, if you are the kind of person who performs google searches rather than simply speaking to your more-intelligent half about any problems you might be experiencing in your relationship.

what happens to brain during accident?

During an accident, your brain expands significantly before melting and draining through your nostrils in a tragic, pungent mess, not dissimilar to a Jessica Mauboy song.

what happens when you break your two front adult teeth?

Again, I will defer this question to Sam.

example of anecdote?

Here is a recent example of an anecdote, courtesy of my mother:

“Your father and I had tickets to the theatre last weekend, and we had four extra ones, so I invited two ladies from church and then your aunt and uncle. What we didn’t know was that your aunt had also invited a friend! So we all arrived and we were short one ticket, which was very awkward because I couldn’t ask the church ladies to leave, but I couldn’t leave them either, and I couldn’t uninvite your aunt or uncle, and they couldn’t tell their friend to go home, so in the end Uncle Ben did the honourable thing and said, “You guys go and enjoy yourselves, I need an early night anyway” and he went home, which wasn’t really too inconvenient because they live quite close to the theatre anyway. So it all worked out in the– are you wearing headphones? Annik??”

if annik skelton isn’t a lesbian what is she?

I’m a Gemini.

is annik skelton the seafolly girl?

No, but I want to be inside her.

what happened to my ex narcissist boyfiend?

Presumably he ceased his self-absorbed ways, JUDGING BY YOUR SHITTY GRAMMAR.

after getting wisdom teeth pulled when does swelling go down?

Never. It is permanent. You consented to this when you signed the paperwork from your surgeon.

annik skelton might be satan – how can i tell?

The only way to truly determine my non-satanic status is to take me somewhere nice for dinner and buy me expensive cocktails. Unless you’re ugly, in which case you should just stay where you are.

can wisdom teeth be removed at the hospital?

No, unfortunately they cannot. Wisdom teeth removal is a self-surgery that must be performed at home, without anesthetic, using only a rubber glove and a pair of rusty barbeque tongs.

does lady annik skelton have a dick like lady gaga?

No.

how the fuck do i find weight watchers points?

You need to relax your anal cavity and purhase the points book. Or just stick your fingers down your throat and vomit until you are better looking and happier.

how to shrink my gums after having wisdom teeth removed?

This question disturbs me. I am not going to answer this.

is the fucking healthy?

Of course! Sex is a very important part of your professional and familial development.

what is apartheid?

Looks like today is your lucky day! I recently published an article on this very subject, after years of research. This piece should clear up any confusion you may have regarding apartheid.

what shall i do with my fucked up brother?

Either help him, sell him on eBay, or take him up the F3 and leave him on a beach somewhere the way I did with our dog when he wouldn’t stop urinating in the linen cupboard

what should i look out for after having wisdom teeth out?

Mormons, sniffer-dogs, Jessica Mauboy, organic food products and scabies.

what your dad’s death should mean to you?

Hopefully a hefty inheritance! It may also include a “Black” themed party and some extra room around the dinner table.

why does my cat scratch at the door?

My god, this one is tough! I’m no animalogist, but if I had to put my money anywhere, I’d hazard a guess and say your cat wants to be let inside. If that doesn’t work, try peeling it and see if it continues to scratch at the door after that.

Most people don’t really think about Tim Allen very much. I probably think about Tim Allen once every three years, unless I see his picture somewhere, and then I think about him for roughly four seconds before I get bored and stop. But those four seconds are filled with a vague yet certain sense of hate. And all over the world, people of all shapes and sizes, colours and creeds, religions and other silly things, all share one thing in common: we hate Tim Allen.

The average punter doesn’t hate Tim Allen very strongly, because it’s not a cause worthy of too much emotion. But we do possess a mild collective distaste for the Tool Time man. A slight wrinkle of the nose upon hearing his name. An immediate reach for the remote control. An eye roll. A head shake. A twist of the monocle and a shot of brandy. And a pinch on the bum.

So why exactly do we hate Tim Allen? Nobody knows for sure, but I have a few ideas.

The first question we should ask ourselves is this: what’s to like about Tim Allen?

And, of course, the answer is “nothing.”

The second question is: would you accept a lift home with this man?

Don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical.

I recently went to a Tim Allen support group meeting and the following are just a few of the notes I made. These are real stories, from real people.*

Tim Allen broke into my house, stole a waffle iron and left obscene polaroids on my pillow.

Tim Allen took me out for a nice dinner once, and then got what was later described as ‘mildly rapey’.

I once had to watch The Santa Clause as a child. I cannot say anymore on the subject; the rest is repressed.

Tim Allen tried to pickpocket me while I was on holidays in Thailand, but he was clumsy with Mekhong whiskey & easily foiled.

Who wedged a red crayon between his buttocks and ‘autographed’ my house? Tim Allen did.

Tim Allen attempted to have an orgy with my dogs but I managed to beat him off with a spatula.

Tim Allen is responsible for the life I’ve led; the tears I’ve cried, the blood I’ve spilt.

Tim Allen borrowed my car for the weekend and returned it with a dead hooker in the trunk.

Hello! I am Tim Allen and everybody hates me.**

Now I’m not a biased person, and I want to deliver balanced views on this site, so I spoke to a well-known movie critic to get his thoughts on Tim Allen. This is what he said:

“Tim Allen is a man’s man man’s man. I’ll never forget the first time I met him; I’d fallen down a hill and broken my leg, and he carried me four miles to hospital, telling me hilarious jokes and reminding me why we let him into our lives (and hearts!) as Tim “The Tool-Man” Taylor.

I think that says it all, really.

This is Heather; she was rejected from Masterchef.

This is Paul; he’s fabulous and he speaks to blind people.

This is Joel; he’s just had his hair cut.

This is Zoe; she works at…wait, where do you work? I just realised I don’t know anything about you.

This is Julia; she’s Greek.

This is Leo; he surfs and he writes a great blog and he loves his wife. What? No, your WIFE.

This is Lynette; her hair smells amazing and she is taking me to lunch next week. Smell her hair. Go on.

This is Mick; he likes metal, as in the music.

This is Ben; he’s a writer, or a journalist, or something.

This is Peter; he’s an arsehole.

This is Scott; he’s from Scotland and he has a silly accent.

This is Cathy; she’s awesome as shit.

This is…hang on, I have no idea who that is, walk away, just go.

This is Jess; HR.

This is Mandi; I just met her and she told me something about drawers. I think I like her. I think I like her a lot. Hey, can you get me a beer? I ran out of money.

Dude in bathroom: Did you know there’s some sort of…Twitter gathering here tonight?

Girl in bathroom: Yeah! I did pick up on that.

DIB: It’s so weird.

GIB: Wait.. what’s Twitter?

DIB: Fucked if I know.

Me: Twitter is a micro-blogging  and social networking service where users can post updates using 140 characters or less.

GIB: Who said that?

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