Dearest darling mouth-breathing meatheads
When loading paper into a printer, please ensure that the paper you
have put into the tray is flat. I mean, like, actually flat, not 80%
flat and 20% steepled up on one edge in a sharp crease that's hard to
see unless you look closely but which constantly sets off the jammed
paper sensor.
Yours sincerely
Someone who promises not to kill you if you don't f--king do it again.
Friday, December 9, 2011
James and technical updates
"And now I shall use the Palantir to discuss our plans with Lord Sauron..."
"Uh, not possible right now."
"I... What?"
"See, the Palantir hadn't had a firmware upgrade in about... fifteen
thousand years. Figured it was due, so I went digging. Strangely
enough, the original manufacturer has discontinued support (they've
moved out of hardware and into Facebook games) so I had to turn to the
fan community. Anyway, long story short, I found some fan-made beta
drivers on SourceForge and installed them, but they seem to have
killed its wireless connectivity."
"Killed its... wait, are you saying I can't talk to anyone on this thing?"
"Well, no, not right now. I'm trying to do a firmware rollback but I
can find the original discs."
"What's the use of a Palantir that can't talk to anyone? This thing is useless!"
"Not true - I installed Angry Birds on it for you."
Scott:
"Look, I'm the Witch King of Angmar, I'm a very busy man, I need to speak to a lot of people, but every time I get on a fell beast I lose reception. Nada, nothing, zip. This is an unphone"
"Yeah, its the wireless connectivity. The upgrade hasn't worked out so we've had to go back to the previous setup."
"But its even worse now! I mean, I flew out on my own the other day because the rest of the Nine didn't get my text! I looked a right tit landing outside Minas Tirith on my tod."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Until we get the upgrade working I'd try the workaround."
"What's that?"
"Well, just don't go too high, stay under about 20ft or you'll lose the wireless."
"20ft? 20ft?? Are you nuts? How am I meant to swoop down on a terrified peasant from 20ft? Not to mention, hello, trees. A fell beast is not the most responsive of flying machines, you know? It'd be easier to put one of them on a leash and walk it in to Minas Tirith."
"Yeah, sorry, but its the best we can do, at least until we upgrade to Morgul Sandwich."
"You know, this wouldn't happen in private enterprise. Bet the corsairs don't have any problems with their networks. Bloody bureaucracies."
"Uh, not possible right now."
"I... What?"
"See, the Palantir hadn't had a firmware upgrade in about... fifteen
thousand years. Figured it was due, so I went digging. Strangely
enough, the original manufacturer has discontinued support (they've
moved out of hardware and into Facebook games) so I had to turn to the
fan community. Anyway, long story short, I found some fan-made beta
drivers on SourceForge and installed them, but they seem to have
killed its wireless connectivity."
"Killed its... wait, are you saying I can't talk to anyone on this thing?"
"Well, no, not right now. I'm trying to do a firmware rollback but I
can find the original discs."
"What's the use of a Palantir that can't talk to anyone? This thing is useless!"
"Not true - I installed Angry Birds on it for you."
Scott:
"Look, I'm the Witch King of Angmar, I'm a very busy man, I need to speak to a lot of people, but every time I get on a fell beast I lose reception. Nada, nothing, zip. This is an unphone"
"Yeah, its the wireless connectivity. The upgrade hasn't worked out so we've had to go back to the previous setup."
"But its even worse now! I mean, I flew out on my own the other day because the rest of the Nine didn't get my text! I looked a right tit landing outside Minas Tirith on my tod."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Until we get the upgrade working I'd try the workaround."
"What's that?"
"Well, just don't go too high, stay under about 20ft or you'll lose the wireless."
"20ft? 20ft?? Are you nuts? How am I meant to swoop down on a terrified peasant from 20ft? Not to mention, hello, trees. A fell beast is not the most responsive of flying machines, you know? It'd be easier to put one of them on a leash and walk it in to Minas Tirith."
"Yeah, sorry, but its the best we can do, at least until we upgrade to Morgul Sandwich."
"You know, this wouldn't happen in private enterprise. Bet the corsairs don't have any problems with their networks. Bloody bureaucracies."
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
James and deities
Scott:
I's had interrupted sleep. Tsupid wakings up.
James:
Tsupid is the Egyptian god of romance. Like Cupid he is depicted as a chubby little winged baby with a bow and arrows, except he has the head of a walrus.
I's had interrupted sleep. Tsupid wakings up.
James:
Tsupid is the Egyptian god of romance. Like Cupid he is depicted as a chubby little winged baby with a bow and arrows, except he has the head of a walrus.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
James rants about volcanoes
After this story appeared in The Age
Rebecca:
the media seems to like rehasing this idea every 12 months or so... VOLCANOES! Falling from the sky! Spewing lava everywhere and burning the crops!
James:
Bringing in their volcanic families from Indonesia! Stealing the jobs of honest Australian volcanoes!
See, this is why we don't have any vulcanism in Australia: South East Asian volcanoes took all the jobs and mass produced cheap eruptions! After Krakatoa, is it any surprise that our local industry is essentially dead? Oh sure, we have some boutique hot springs and volcanic mud, but no honest, large-scale, working class volcanic eruptions. If we want lava or magma in this country, we have to import it!
What we need to do is kick these dole-bludging local "dormant" volcanoes off their government payments and force them to get to work!
Rebecca:
the media seems to like rehasing this idea every 12 months or so... VOLCANOES! Falling from the sky! Spewing lava everywhere and burning the crops!
James:
Bringing in their volcanic families from Indonesia! Stealing the jobs of honest Australian volcanoes!
See, this is why we don't have any vulcanism in Australia: South East Asian volcanoes took all the jobs and mass produced cheap eruptions! After Krakatoa, is it any surprise that our local industry is essentially dead? Oh sure, we have some boutique hot springs and volcanic mud, but no honest, large-scale, working class volcanic eruptions. If we want lava or magma in this country, we have to import it!
What we need to do is kick these dole-bludging local "dormant" volcanoes off their government payments and force them to get to work!
Friday, February 11, 2011
James and the plumbers
[After discussing the difficulty of finding a plumber]
"Hello, is this a plumber?"
"Yes, do you have something that needs to be plumbified?"
"Oh yes, my plumbs have lost all plumbicity. I think they need new plumbitronics."
"Hmmm, it won't be cheap. You'll need some high plumbocity fittings with plumb plumb plumb."
"Oh dear, but will plumby plumb plumb plumb?"
"Plumb plumb plumb plumb."
"Plumb!"
"Hello, is this a plumber?"
"Yes, do you have something that needs to be plumbified?"
"Oh yes, my plumbs have lost all plumbicity. I think they need new plumbitronics."
"Hmmm, it won't be cheap. You'll need some high plumbocity fittings with plumb plumb plumb."
"Oh dear, but will plumby plumb plumb plumb?"
"Plumb plumb plumb plumb."
"Plumb!"
Friday, February 4, 2011
James makes fun of Scott's typo
Scott:
$4.95 a ig and I'll be calling electrivian shortly
James:
That's very cheap for an ig. Igs haven't been so cheap since I was a child, growing up in the ig farming district of Igshire. We used to ride a cart into town and see all the ig merchants selling their wares from the backs of barrow. Five igs for a pound, they cost, for some of those little Spotted Marfworthies. So many other varieties, though, like the big golden Sunbeam Rafflegates and long green Parson's Plasterboards. Of course, most of the igs you see these days are tinned, and they're usual the cheap and nasty varieties like Little Brown Fauntleroys and Purple Quaids....
The electrivian:
He's the guy who comes into your house and repairs a crappy old record player in the shed while ignoring the fact that your fuse box is on fire.
$4.95 a ig and I'll be calling electrivian shortly
James:
That's very cheap for an ig. Igs haven't been so cheap since I was a child, growing up in the ig farming district of Igshire. We used to ride a cart into town and see all the ig merchants selling their wares from the backs of barrow. Five igs for a pound, they cost, for some of those little Spotted Marfworthies. So many other varieties, though, like the big golden Sunbeam Rafflegates and long green Parson's Plasterboards. Of course, most of the igs you see these days are tinned, and they're usual the cheap and nasty varieties like Little Brown Fauntleroys and Purple Quaids....
The electrivian:
He's the guy who comes into your house and repairs a crappy old record player in the shed while ignoring the fact that your fuse box is on fire.
James and the eels
After yesterday's email was titled, "My hovercraft is full of eels" and today's was titled "Hovercraft redux: This time it's personal"
James:
...and this time, the eels mean BUSINESS!!!
Specifically accouncy. In fact, these eels will come to your home at a convenient time for you in their corporate hovercraft and conduct a free financial assessment. These eels guarantee that they will get every you every cent of tax return that you are entitled to.
These eels are EXTREME!!! ly good at finding every possible deductible expense, and they're getting ready to EXPLODE!!! the size of the tax refund you will receive.
Scott:
"So your motto is 'Our refunds are like eels: slippery and hard to grasp'?"
"Yeah."
"Doesn't exactly inspire confidence, does it?"
James:
...and this time, the eels mean BUSINESS!!!
Specifically accouncy. In fact, these eels will come to your home at a convenient time for you in their corporate hovercraft and conduct a free financial assessment. These eels guarantee that they will get every you every cent of tax return that you are entitled to.
These eels are EXTREME!!! ly good at finding every possible deductible expense, and they're getting ready to EXPLODE!!! the size of the tax refund you will receive.
Scott:
"So your motto is 'Our refunds are like eels: slippery and hard to grasp'?"
"Yeah."
"Doesn't exactly inspire confidence, does it?"
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."
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
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!"
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.
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.
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.
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!!!
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.
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."
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!!!"
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.
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*
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*
Friday, December 18, 2009
James discusses classification with help from Scott
After finding that the email conversation was marked "Unclassified"
Michelle:
Scott - why didn't you use Unofficial as the classification?
James:
Classification: Smelling slightly of pineapple
Michelle:
a far better classification choice than any other offered by the Department...
James:
Classification: COVERED IN BEES!!!
Scott:
Classification: Its all sticky. Its made of jam!
James:
Classification: Superficially resembles a Pekingese
Michelle:
now I'm getting funny looks from my colleagues because I keep laughing out loud...
You need to classify things as Likely to make you snort!
James:
Classification: Sounds like a water buffalo mating call
Scott:
Classification: High level snort hazard. Do not read if you take heart medication, are pregnant or like to sit at your desk at work pretending that you're playing a tuba.
James:
Classification: When printed, ground up, and snorted, will give you hallucinations of Dame Edna eating live chickens
Scott:
Classification: Squealing like a pig.
James:
Classification: Squelchy underfoot
Scott:
Classification: Unnecessary use of street slang, yo.
Michelle:
Classification: Going to distribute Christmas gifts
[Rebecca changes the email classification to: Likely to make you snort which breaks the email filter system and has to be changed]
Scott:
I had to raise the classification as the work filter didn't like it
James:
Classification raised from "Covered in bees" to "Covered in badgers".
Scott:
Which is one less than "Covered in hundreds of screaming pygmies with tiny sharp knives"
James:
I don't have to worry about them - GMail has a screaming pygmy filter.
They all get dropped into my Pygmy folder, where they get pureed and turned into pygmy jam (it tastes like a mix of lychee, mandarin, and mescaline).
Scott:
There's nothing like a pygmy jam sandwich for when the munchies hit.
Michelle:
indeed - nothing beats a pygmy jam sandwich for a small snack
*ducks*
Scott:
*throws pygmies*
James:
*puts some bread in the toaster*
Scott:
Those look the typed commands for the world's strangest pc text adventure game
James:
] inventory
You are carrying:
- dumpling
- map
- stick
- crown
- statue
] look crown
The crown appears to be made of solidified and moulded mollusc secretions. A tag inside identifies it as belonging to the King of Wrong, and also that it is size 45.
] look dumpling
You are not sure how, but the dumpling gives the impression of being sleazy. Handling it makes you feel cheap and dirty.
] eat dumpling
What are you, crazy?
] look map
It is a fold-out map of greater Wrongtown and its surrounds, including the twin cities of Grope and Goat.
] look stick
It is a very small spear. It must belong to a very small pygmy.
] look statue
This wooden statue is a small carved figurine of a corpulent figure bearing a ceremonial bib and bucket. A plaque on the bottom identifies it as the likeness of Omnommer the Devourer. It is heavy for its size.
Scott:
*snort*
] search statue
There's a bas relief sculpture on the statue's pedestal. It appears to be a coat of arms with two goats on either side of a wheel cheese with the motto "may vos exsisto labefactum in a goat". There appears to be a lever next to the coat of arms.
] pull lever
A door slides open in the wall next to you. A million screaming pygmies with tiny spears pour out.
Michelle:
Scott - why didn't you use Unofficial as the classification?
James:
Classification: Smelling slightly of pineapple
Michelle:
a far better classification choice than any other offered by the Department...
James:
Classification: COVERED IN BEES!!!
Scott:
Classification: Its all sticky. Its made of jam!
James:
Classification: Superficially resembles a Pekingese
Michelle:
now I'm getting funny looks from my colleagues because I keep laughing out loud...
You need to classify things as Likely to make you snort!
James:
Classification: Sounds like a water buffalo mating call
Scott:
Classification: High level snort hazard. Do not read if you take heart medication, are pregnant or like to sit at your desk at work pretending that you're playing a tuba.
James:
Classification: When printed, ground up, and snorted, will give you hallucinations of Dame Edna eating live chickens
Scott:
Classification: Squealing like a pig.
James:
Classification: Squelchy underfoot
Scott:
Classification: Unnecessary use of street slang, yo.
Michelle:
Classification: Going to distribute Christmas gifts
[Rebecca changes the email classification to: Likely to make you snort which breaks the email filter system and has to be changed]
Scott:
I had to raise the classification as the work filter didn't like it
James:
Classification raised from "Covered in bees" to "Covered in badgers".
Scott:
Which is one less than "Covered in hundreds of screaming pygmies with tiny sharp knives"
James:
I don't have to worry about them - GMail has a screaming pygmy filter.
They all get dropped into my Pygmy folder, where they get pureed and turned into pygmy jam (it tastes like a mix of lychee, mandarin, and mescaline).
Scott:
There's nothing like a pygmy jam sandwich for when the munchies hit.
Michelle:
indeed - nothing beats a pygmy jam sandwich for a small snack
*ducks*
Scott:
*throws pygmies*
James:
*puts some bread in the toaster*
Scott:
Those look the typed commands for the world's strangest pc text adventure game
James:
] inventory
You are carrying:
- dumpling
- map
- stick
- crown
- statue
] look crown
The crown appears to be made of solidified and moulded mollusc secretions. A tag inside identifies it as belonging to the King of Wrong, and also that it is size 45.
] look dumpling
You are not sure how, but the dumpling gives the impression of being sleazy. Handling it makes you feel cheap and dirty.
] eat dumpling
What are you, crazy?
] look map
It is a fold-out map of greater Wrongtown and its surrounds, including the twin cities of Grope and Goat.
] look stick
It is a very small spear. It must belong to a very small pygmy.
] look statue
This wooden statue is a small carved figurine of a corpulent figure bearing a ceremonial bib and bucket. A plaque on the bottom identifies it as the likeness of Omnommer the Devourer. It is heavy for its size.
Scott:
*snort*
] search statue
There's a bas relief sculpture on the statue's pedestal. It appears to be a coat of arms with two goats on either side of a wheel cheese with the motto "may vos exsisto labefactum in a goat". There appears to be a lever next to the coat of arms.
] pull lever
A door slides open in the wall next to you. A million screaming pygmies with tiny spears pour out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)