Friday, October 29, 2010

James creates a new character

After finding out that that there is such a thing as a Cockchafer Beetle:

James:
I absolutely must write a story with a protagonist called Mr Cockchafer now.

Scott:
Captain Cockchafer of the Queen's Rifles should be a series of books:

Cockchafer's Triumph
Cockchafer Goes to Africa
Cockchafer and the Crack fo Doom
Jolly Roger Cockchafer
Cockchafer: Lord of the Apes
Cockchafer Stands Tall
Cockchafer and The Groin Monkeys of the Belgian Congo

James:
Cockchafer of Scotland Yard
Cockchafer Returns
Cockchafer: Pioneer Submariner
Cockchafer Knows Best
The Further Adventures of Cockchafer
Cockchafer in New Guinea
Cockchafer Across the Sahara

Scott:
Cockchafer's Suprise
Cockchafer Swings Low
Cockchafer Against the Germans
Cockchafer Victorious
Cockchafer: Big Game Hunter
Cockchafer's Musket

James:
Cockchafer's Legion
Cockchafer in Love
Cockchafer's Last Stand
Cockchafer Abroad

Scott:
And every one of them have the same plot

Rebecca:
apart from the porn/erotic fiction ones which have a slightly different plot and sex

James:
Cockchafer in Leather
Cockchafer in Bondage
Cockchafer's Harem
Cockchafer and the Naughty Navy

...and the inevitable:

Cockchafer and the Case of the Chafed Cock

Scott:
And the cooking spin-off: Cockchafer's Chafing-Dish

James:
Cockchafer Behind Bars
Cockchafer Undercover
Nobody Can Touch Cockchafer

Some suggestions from Twitter:

Cockchafer on Broadway
Cockchafer Comes from Behind
Cockchafer and the Moustache of the Pharaoh

Scott:
Cockchafer and the Imposing Sausage

James:
From Twitter:

"If I remember my Cockchafer trivia correctly, Cockchafer: Pioneer Submariner was retitled Cockchafer Goes Down in Europe."

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

James has a thing

Rebecca:
You're such a geek

James:
You say that like it's a bad thing.

Rebecca:
No, I say it like it's a thing :)

Scott:
A thing with many tentacles and eyestalks and that stalks the moors at night singing about loss, love and glovepuppets.

James:
Didn't Robbie Burns write about that one?

I think it went like this:

O most grotesque beastie 'pon the moors
Knock ye not 'pon my doors
Ye puppets fill me wi' alarm
I dinnae want one 'pon my arm
Ye sing although I hope ye won't
I'll glass ye, just ye see 'f I don't

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

James riffs the Old Spice guy

Rebecca:
There is chocolate calling to me... the siren voices are tempting me to nom

James:
What does chocolate sound like?

Michelle:
chocolate has a delicious deep dark voice

James:
Like the Old Spice guy?

"Hello ladies. Look at your salad, now back to me, now back at your salad, now back to me! Sadly, your salad isn't me, but if you stopped worrying about your calorie intake and started thinking about what tastes good, you could be eating me. Look away, look back... You're stuffing your face with the chocolate your snack could taste like!"

Thursday, July 22, 2010

James finds new words

Your typo of the day: "homeosexual"

I think it would describe the state of being a closeted right wing political figure, with the higher dilution of gay pride having a great effect on his need to hook up with gay escorts or go to public toilets for an anonymous fumble.

James and the whales

After reading this news article:

Rebecca:
I love how this article is clearly written for people in the northern hemisphere.

"The seas around Cape Town are teeming with whales and great white sharks during the winter months, which fall in the middle of the year."

James:
WITCHCRAFT!!!! I BLAME OBAMA!!!

Scott:
Yep, its a little known fact that the waters are so teeming with sharks and whales that ships have to be fitted with gian cow-catchers to push them all out of the way.

James:
In the winter months, anyway (in the MIDDLE of the year! the MIDDLE!) but at the ends of the year it's like a desert.

Only, you know, wet

Scott:
In particularly teeming middle winter years, locals will hire beach buggies and drive over the crammed together sea life to offshore islands they can't normally reach by car. Once there they'll strip naked under the moonlight and conduct arcane rituals to ensure the next winter will also arrive in the middle of the year.

James:
The not-mid-year-months, known by the locals as Endie-Yearie-Hottie-Time, see the ocean so devoid of life that the missing biomass causes the sea levels to drop dramatically. This is an excellent opportunity to retrieve lost cars that slipped through small gaps in the whales mid-year.

Scott:
And to fish out all those coins that fell out of pockets and slipped behind a whale.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

James communicates for hell

Scott:
Yay for misreading emails! We just received an "informal outage notification" for system downtime in June which I misread as an "infernal outage notification".

The fires of hell have been shut down to resolve some coding issues.

James:
Attention all demons, devils, and associated evil spirits

Be aware that the raging fires of hell will be doused between 14:00 and 17:00 9CST (ninth circle standard time) for service works.
Infernal technicians will be using this time to scrape the still living and screaming remains of the eternally damned from the gas outlets. Please back up any demonic torture before the outage.

Thanks for reading.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

James and the dinosaurs

Rebecca
Gotta love a HUGE bit of fear mongering...

Scott:
Billions of immigrants! Billions and billions! And they haven't eaten in billions of years!

James:
...and dinosaurs! Billions of them! Crossing our borders willy nilly, and not respecting out culture (especially the bit about not eating one another). You may laugh now, but you won't be laughing when you can't get a job because of cheap imported procompsognathus! You won't be laughing when the utahraptors demand their own radio station! You won't be laughing when the gallimimus set up a tent embassy in Canberra!

Scott:
And then we'll have billions of single mother allosaurs waiting in line at Centrelink for their handouts!

James:
Carelessly sweeping their tails around and knocking over the shitty plastic chairs!

Scott:
And demanding equal rights for gay and lesbian diplodoci!

James:
Gay Muslim carnotaurs wanting to adopt human babies JUST SO THEY CAN EAT THEM!!!

Scott:
And influence their young minds so that babies turn into baby-eaters themselves!

James:
Statistics have shown over and over again that babies who are eaten by dinosaurs will grow up to be baby-eating dinosaurs themselves!

BREAK THE CYCLE!!!

Scott:
Little Billy was a good Christian baby until he as adopted and eaten by Mr and Mr Triceratops and now he hangs around seedy bars in tight leather pants eating babies all day long! Don't let this happen to your baby!

James:
He got eaten by a pair of herbivores?

I don't think you're taking this seriously.

Scott:
Gay and lesbian dinosaurs don't discriminate between meat and veg!

Rebecca:
I officially declare that my new metformin medication and I get along... there have been a couple of minor tummy issues, but 2 in 14 days is far better than 6 a day.

James:
Hooray!

Of course, if we don't tighten up our immigration policy, you won't be able to get metformin because the PBS will have to be discontinued, thanks to cost blowouts caused by stegosaurs getting high on government-subsidised methamphetamines!

Rebecca:
Sadly my new medication isn't on the PBS, so I won't have to worry about whether it exists or not

James:
F--king stegosaurs!!!

Scott:
See? They're not even here yet and they're screwing Real Australians out of their god given not-at-all-communist socialised medicare! (and not medicarse as I just typo'd)

Rebecca:
*falls asleep at desk*

James:
*gasp* Communist fascist lesbian pterodactyls spiked her water!!!

James and his magical underpants

Rebecca:
Awww you stopped... but I will blog you anyway!

James:
You can't. I'm wearing my magical mormon blog-proof underpants.

Rebecca:
They are not proof against me. I will blog and you can't stop me!

James:
But... but... I'm wearing a second pair of them on my head!

Scott:
We can't be blogged for our ideas are so outlandish that blogging software can't cope with their sheer awesomeness

James:
That's right. Blogger with pop up a "too awesome to be blogged - I am not worthy" error and shut itself down.

Rebecca:
As awesome as you both are, and as awesome as your ideas are... blogger is insufficiently sentient to notice

James:
It is screaming silently, unable to communicate its horror.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

James and the sinus goats

Rebecca:
you and Scott need to continue being funny so I can blog you

Scott:
Gah. I feel like a milking cow. You've attached your blogging machine to my nether regions and am sucking all my essential weird juices out.

James:
"Here, taste this milkshake!"
"Uh... it's a weird colour..."
"Oh, that's... food colouring. Yeah. Go on, drink it! It's delicious!"
"Ur... kay..." *slurp* "CHRIST!!! What is this cr-" . . . "WEASEL
DOCTORS EXPUNGE THE CHEESE FROM MY NETHER KIDNEYS!!!"
"Eeeexcellent."

Scott:
"Side effects: Prolonged use may result in goats."

James:
"Oh, that's not so bad. Goats are cute, I sup-"
"Growing out of your sinuses."
"ARGH!"

Scott:
"Consult a goatherd if symptoms persist."

Thursday, April 29, 2010

James exorcises Tony Abbott

Scott:
Bleah go the sinuses, bleah bleah bleah.

James:
*pulls string* The cow goes... Mooooo!
*pulls string* The sinuses go... BLEEEAAAARRGH!!!
*pulls string* Tony Abbot goes... *fap fap fap fap fap fap*

Scott:
*boggle*

The images..............do not want!

James:
"Daddy, I don't like this toy any more."

Scott:
"It whispers things in the night.....horrible, horrible things."

James:
"What kind of things, son?"
"I can't... I can't repeat them!"
"But..."
"No! Too horrible!"
"Please son, you need to talk to me so I can help you."
"Okay... it... it says... 'Tony Abbott for Prime Minister'!" *sob*

Scott:
"And then I hear a furtive rustle followed by.......slapping sounds. It sounds a bite like.....fapfapfapfap. And then I feel vomit in the back of my mouth."

James:
"Quick, there's no time to waste! I need an old priest, a young priest, ten litres of holy water, a DVD copy of The Dismissal, and Gough Whitlam!"

[later]

"Begone from this place! Return whence you came, monster! You do not belong in the 21st century!"

Scott:
"Fools! Banishing me from this plane will simply return me to the nether hells of the backbenches! You cannot destroy me! My demonic influence touches all!"

James:
"Cover your ears! He is going to spout obscenities!"
"Girls must always wear skirts! Good girls don't have sex before marriage! RAAAARGH!!!"

James got blogged and then nose goblins

Rebecca:
I went through my mail archive and have now blogged James more

James:
*rolls eyes*

Next you'll start singing "I like your old stuff better than your new stuff".

Rebecca:
well I wanted to keep some of my old emails. And blogging you was easy... and amusing

James:
[sings] Blooooggin' you... is easy cause you're bloggable... doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doooo... AAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!

Scott:
I don't remember the scream being part of the song.

Rebecca:
*dies*

James:
Oh noes!!!

. . .

*steals wallet*

Rebecca:
Hey.....

James:
It wasn't me! It was... that... other guy... with my name...

Scott:
James Dominguez the famous seal hurdler?

James:
Obviously not me - I tried to leap over a walrus once, but I tripped on its tusk and might have been badly injured had I not landed on a penguin.

Scott:
Not James Dominguez, inventor of the rotary chicken sexer?

James:
No, that wasn't me, and if you say it was I will sue you.

Scott:
Not James Dominguez, physicist and founder of the controversial "Parallel Bollocks" theory?

James:
He was a shameless fraud.

Scott:
That means you must be James Dominguez, investigative journalist and author of the famous "Nose Goblins: America's Secret Epidemic" report.

James:
Okay, that one was me, but I wasn't serious.

Plus, I was quite drunk.

Scott:
But that report panicked a nation! Millions of people ran to their doctors demanding they do something about the legions of goblins hiding in their noses!

James:
On the other hand, it did lead to the serendipitous discovery of those life-threatening nose-dwelling microzebras.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

James writes his own in train poetry

I call this poem...

STENCH

Swaying, rocking
In the metal and nylon arms
Of an uncaring mother
Peering at the blur
Houses, graffiti, more

Sleep weighs me down
Heavy eyelids, like
The stone lids of tombs
I stare dumbly outside
A metal womb with a view

But no!
A cruel steel crowbar
Jammed into the dull gap of my wakefulness!
Tired eyes fill
With griefless tears!

It is only 8am!
How could your underarms
Already smell so bad?

*bows politely to scattered applause*