Welcome Earthlings and Others

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Saturday 3 September 2011

Weird News










Even more captions!









Mope captions.....









Captions from my Facebook caption competition

                                        





                                                      

Tuesday 30 August 2011

Alfred Risks His Life For A Pickle And Marlene Callously Kicks It

                       

                                  Alfred risked his life to save a giant pickle.

                                                                     


Marlene and Doug found it at home and kicked it around the room.

Arthur And His Giant Pickle

When Arthur grew his giant pickle he had no idea it would save a tiger from drowning one day!



Sunday 28 August 2011

A Man Needs To Splash His Shoes



07 June 2011 
    What’s with town planners and the pissing thing? Don’t they need to go too? Come on guys, it’s 2011. Bodily functions are ok. People aren’t going to use your city if they can’t take a leak.
Instead of toilets everywhere they’ve spent a gaxillion dollars on four or five poncy automatic loos in Hyde Park. They’ve over compensated for the guilt they feel from repressive childhoods and built toots so extraordinary they have become tourist attractions. They talk to you, and wash themselves after every use. it’s not a man’s piss at all- a man needs to splash his shoes.
That’s if you can get in of course. The damn thing costs 50c and has a gaxillion moving parts so is nearly always broken down. If it’s working there’s a line of tourists who don’t need to pee at all but go in for the experience.
      And what about the carbon foot print of these energy-guzzling automatons. You take a piss and there’s a drought in Africa and millions of people die. I was so incensed that I made a sign -“Save 50c and employ a cleaner. PISS ON THE DOOR!”
      No, we don’t need a few temples to urination that get their own reality TV show, we need a toot on every corner with a big sign saying PISS HERE. Real men just need a tree.
      It’s not just town planners, how about car designers? How many of us get to work sitting in a puddle? How hard can it be? Forget sub woofers and blue tooth brakes, we need a porta potty so we can cruise the streets in style - pants down, number one and number two, no problem.
I’m not joking about this, it’s a serious problem. I was once busting so bad I rang 000 - “Fire, police, ambulance?” “I need to pee”, “This line is for emergencies!” “It is an emergency! A  LITTLE BIT HAS ALREADY SQUEEZED OUT!"
    We need an Australia wide pee line.
Pee line,“Pee line here. Nearest cross street?”
Me, “XYZ” ,
“ Oh, here we are. There’s a tin behind the post on your right. Grab it and go into the bush on your left. Thank you for calling pee line”.
We need a caring, human voice, not an iphone app.
What do we do? Do we march on Parliament house with our willies out and pee on the verandah? We need “peeing rights NOW! “… “123, WE NEED TO PEE! 456, TO PEE FOR NIX!” Do you need to pee? Do I need to pee? Do we march? Of course we do!
What am I going to do? I’m going to see a urologist about my personal plumbing next Monday. Perhaps he can tie a knot in it.

Fabrizio Bullshitzio by Greg Scott



 03 June 2011 at 15:28

Was bored today so I wrote this and emailed it to the Herald for Heckler. Read it and let me know what you think. You might get a giggle or two... 


What’s with women and the handbag thing? Don’t they know that handbags suck?
I’m walking down George Street the other day and I pass this massive glass shop front and on display is only one thing, on a pedestal, with spotlights and a poncy Italian name. Yes…. A handbag, and it cost a gaxillion dollars.
Ladies, it’s not real! Fabio didn’t make it, Chang did and it cost five bucks!
 Constantly us blokes find ourselves competing with some mega corporation’s marketing BS. Imagine ladies, you get home from work and hubby’s in a tizz. “What’s wrong?’ You say. “It’s Johno!!”. “Is he OK?” “ He’s got a new toolbox! It’s made out of endangered Siberian Ocelot fur with 18 carat gold buckles and diamond studs. It’s made by Fabrizo Bullshitzio…. and…and… It has a special pouch for his rectal thermometer …I want one!”
I mean.. really Ladies. .IT”S JUST A BAG! A bag with all your girl junk in it. And NO… YOU DON”T NEED FIFTY OF THEM. Fifty handbags in fifty colors to go with fifty pairs of shoes  and fifty sets of girl junk. Fabrizo Bullshitzio is not God.
 So why am I so worried? Come to my house and you’ll see. We have more handbags than cats and they all have to be fed. When one fills up more move in and when the mobile phone rings girl junk goes everywhere. At  night I can’t sleep for worrying someone will break in , trip over, and sue us.

What’s more Fabrizo’s forming a wedge. When we go to the movies Fabio sits on the armrest between us to prevent canoodling and I’ve   even heard of couples where he sits in the bed, right in the way, with the cat.
 Blokes what can we do? I’ll tell you.  When she comes home tonight grab Fabrizo by the throat and challenge her to tell you what’s inside. I bet she doesn’t know. Then tip out all the junk in all the handbags and add up the cost of the lot. You’ll soon see why you can’t pay off the house or have that holiday in the Greek islands. It’s Fabrizo and he’s laughing all the way to the bank.
True equality of the sexes means pockets, pockets for everyone. Jesus had them and he could walk on water. Einstein had them and he was really smart. Gandhi had them and he was skinny. Every time you wash your pants the pockets get emptied and everything gets sorted. Nobody trips over. Everybody can canoodle. Cats don’t get jealous and pockets don’t get snatched.  We all go on holidays and we all live happily ever after.
Handbags are evil, nearly as bad as … shoulder bags.


A Note to My Imaginary Friends by Greg Scott


     We all have imaginary friends. In fact, I believe anyway, most of the people we meet are to some degree imaginary. This is because the mind has a natural tendency to make judgments based on past experience, judgments that are largely unconscious. We tend to relate to others via a chimera of our own construction that we project onto them with out even knowing that we're doing it.
   This is the 'nuts and bolts' of racism. Many racists start their sentences with "I'm not racist but" and then say something racist. What they really mean is "I'm not consciously racist but". If you point out the mistake they get angry. The brain carries a series of templates that we automatically superimpose on the people we meet.
    Children, however, seem to have mostly blank templates. They seem to be able to relate without being crippled by expectations, which is both wonderful and alarming. It's wonderful because they seem to have direct access to the joy that is you, and alarming because you might be a creep. It’s also, I believe, 
What Jesus meant when he said that to enter the kingdom of heaven we should be like children, though he forgot to warn us that he might be a creep. Many Christians use his directive as an excuse to be gullible. 
   I believe it is more fun to use these templates consciously. I don't really know how, but maybe the place to start is to make the unconscious conscious. I've tried this and it's really hard. For a while anyway you think you really are a creep. Strangely, you seem to morph into all the nasty people you thought were 'out there', though to do anything nasty you'd have to do it consciously so you have a choice that most nasty people don't have.
  Conscious people have the luxury of being able to make judgments on their own prejudices rather than on other people. This is confronting but liberating and humbling as well, but. if a guy pulls a gun, be judgmental. Surviving in the world is important.
 "So" I hear you say,” Are you a conscious person?'
"Sometimes" I reply "But mostly I'm just a drag"
I do have a shop so mostly I use my best friend template, which seems to work for me. People spend money but they also tell me all their problems. They do that with imaginary friends.
  Facebook friends are often the most imaginary of all. They post bits and pieces about their lives and I fill in the blanks, usually with lots of nice things. That's why, in the words of Jeff Fenech, 'I love yous all'.

HELL EXPLAINED BY A CHEMISTRY STUDENTon Wednesday, 17 August 2011 at 10:41 The following is an actual question given on a University of Arizona chemistry midterm, and an actual answer turned in by a student. The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well : Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following: First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving, which is unlikely. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct..... ...leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my God.' THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.

I didn't write this but I love it so I'm posting it here. If anyone knows where it originally came from please let me know,-

The following is an actual question given on a University of Arizona
chemistry midterm, and an actual answer turned in by a student.
The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it
with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have
the pleasure of enjoying it as well :
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic
(absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law
(gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some
variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we
need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate
at which they are leaving, which is unlikely. I think that we can
safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave.
Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering
Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world
today.
Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their
religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these
religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we
can project that all souls go to Hell.
With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of
souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of
change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order
for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of
Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls
enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase
until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in
Hell, then the
temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year
that, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take
into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two
must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already
frozen over.
The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it
follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore,
extinct..... ...leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a
divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my
God.'
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.

Welcome To The Real World by Greg Scott


    Strangely, I believe that desensitization is the gateway to compassion. Our own feelings create a barrier between others and ourselves and it's these we need to desensitize to. The sick and distressed are an opportunity that we waste because of the discomfort we feel in the presence of suffering, but those feelings are ours, not theirs. No one "Makes us feel bad". Freedom comes from moving towards bad feelings, not away. The feelings we run from are the doorway to the real world.
    Any surgeon knows that feeling squeamish in the presence of gore is not helpful. Most of them will tell you that they just "got used to it". Cutting people open and playing with they're guts is fine because they've desensitized. Must have been hard the first few times though.
    I spent much of my life living within the confines of a very narrow comfort zone. It was so pervasive I didn't know it existed until I began to work behind the counter in this shop. Suddenly I was meeting people from every strata of society and from most countries in the world. There were grieving people, terminally ill people, and people living with severe mental illness and suddenly I noticed my buttons being pressed. I found myself blaming others for the feelings that arose in me until one day I noticed that some customers would trigger discomfort in one tarot reader, and have no effect at all on another.  I realized then that it was the readers own stuff and not the customers that was the problem.
    In the past I would subconsciously avoid people in distress but, it's my shop so I cant do that. I've had to sit tight and just "get used to it" and it's been a great thing. My capacity to deal with people's 'stuff' has expanded enormously. Greg Scott. Welcome to the real world!

Thoughts Before Going to Sleep By Greg Scott


Monday, 27 June 2011 at 23:27

Before I go out to act in the world, I like to clean up my own backyard. I'm referring, of course, to my own internal space, the very existence of which I denied for many years. I used to think that only the outside world exists. My inability to accept responsibility meant that often the world seemed a dark and gloomy place, evil and beyond redemption.
Stepping from this delusion has been an act of courage, which I thoroughly recommend. I have found the enemy and it is me, what a relief. Me, I can change, the world is another matter. I have lived inside out most for my life.
"So," I hear you say, "What's different?"
Well, not much really.
Before, I had a voice in my head that was so pervasive I almost didn't know it was there. It provided a running commentary of criticisms and judgments everywhere I went, and, I thought it was me. "The weather is bad", "He's a dick', "you stink", "the world is fucked", on and on and on, twenty four seven , like a nagging school teacher.
This me I will call 'thing 1'
"So," you say again, "what now?"
 Now I have 'thing 2'. Thing 2 sits back and watches thing 1, like thing 1's kind and wise Dad. When thing1 makes a value judgment thing 2 merely asks, "Is it true?".
Guess what? It hardly every is.
"If it's not true" goes thing 2 "What's happening now?"
To answer this I take a peek and, what do I find? I find that feelings are happening, and happening almost all the time. Feelings are happening that color the way I view the world. The judgments I make are more about my own internal weather than any thing in the world outside.
This is called "projection", and it's something we all do. If someone comes out of nowhere and yells "YOU SUCK" it's probably not about you at all. They're just giving you their internal weather report and, if you need to feel anything at all, you should feel compassion because they're telling you they feel like crap and don’t know what to do about it. Don't say "You made me angry" because they didn't. You made yourself angry because you didn't realize it wasn't about you! It hardly ever is!
This brings me round to blame, which is definitely a thing 1 thing. If we blame others for our own internal weather, we then have to forgive them, so maybe not blaming in the first place is the easy way out.
"But" I hear you say, "People do bad shit"
This is true of course, and if they do they should be punished, but what if they're trying to tell us something but they're so confused the only way the can find to do this is to do something really awful? What if we could get them to tell us in a less nasty way? What if we could get them to control of their internal weather so they don't ever explode?
 So how do we tame our internal weather? I don't really know but I think it might have something to do with values. I don't know about you but I value laughter, and friendship, and family, and helping people, and good times, and thinking, and working out the world, and good food, and more things than I could ever possibly mention. When I do things like this I feel good and I even feel good if I  just think about doing them. Values keep my ship on an even keel and , with an even keel , the world is a wonderful place.
So what about thing 1 and thing 2?  Thing 1 almost never says anything anymore because criticism and complaint are not things I really value. Thing 2 runs the show and, as thing 1 is redundant, spends most of his time asking questions of the world outside and simply just observing. He finds the world a source endless wonder and entertainment and it isn't ever boring, not even for one minute. When I meet a stranger, thing 2 asks millions of questions like "who are they?" "Where have they come from?" "What makes them smile?" "How can I help them?' and most importantly "What can we do together that's in line with our values?"
Everyone knows that bad shit happens and when it does thing 2 goes "What really happened?" , "How can we fix it?”, and "How can I help now?" This beats what thing 1 would have said. Thing 1 would have said "Things like this always happen to me." That only applied when everything was about me.
 This is just a whimsical note that I thought of last night when I was going to sleep. It seems to work most of the time but if you don't get it that's OK too.

On Morons by Greg Scott



  Morons don't really exist. If you meet one you may find it's just a normal person behaving like a moron behaves. The moron thingy is like an overcoat that is passed from father to son down the generations and, for those that wear it, it's a very comfortable thing. I have a shop and I sell things to other people’s morons all the time. If I thought they were morons too I’d make a lot less money.
   Perhaps, though, it's more like a suit of armor in that it protects the wearer such that others don't get too close. The moron/overcoat wearer thinks that everyone else is the moron and that's why the world is so fucked up. He needs the armor to protect himself from all the morons. It's a Freudian defense.
    It's interesting to think that though people die, their behaviors may be immortal. That moron/overcoat in the supermarket may be the very same moron/overcoat that fought at Agincourt just worn by a different body. It's passed down the line by one generation doing to their children what their parents did to them. It's not bad, it's just what happens.
    Many of us have our very own inner moron. It manifests by complaining that the world, and other people, are not the way it wants them to be, and, because it's the fault of all the morons out there, nothing can be done about it. I'm sorry, morons, the world is the way it is. It's not the fault of some moron. You can either live with it or do something to change it. It's that easy.
 If you meet a moron talk to the normal person instead of the moron/overcoat. People are nice, morons are boring. When he see's that you're nice he may drop the overcoat. He may hit you too but that's just a risk you take

Staying Calm Amid Chaos by Greg Scott


09 July 2011 at 13:49

   Often people come into my shop and comment on how calm it is in my shop. Sometimes they even go as far as suggesting the some kind of magical calming "energy" here. I believe they're wrong. The correct thing to say would be "I feel calm in here". I believe I press their calm buttons with the environment I've created.
Why let a place dictate your mood?
    I once saw a documentary on Tiger Woods and how his Dad trained him to win. When Tiger needed to concentrate his father threw as much distraction as possible at him until he was desensitized to distraction and calm under pressure. This is the way to meditate. You want to feel calm under pressure not only when you enter a quiet room. Remember Hebb's Law "neurons that fire together wire together"? You want to wire your neurons for calming down with the experience of external chaos and thus build your chaos tolerance. Of course, if you have young children, this will happen anyway.

On Imaginary Worlds by Greg Scott


The future doesn't exist. It is, I believe, entirely imaginary. 
   When I say the future doesn't exist I don't mean you shouldn't make plans and anticipate outcomes. It's just that these are just thoughts, not the actual thing. When the body reacts as though the actual thing is happening when it is just a thought, psychologists call this "cognitive fusion". The antidote is "cognitive diffusion".
      How do we do this? First we tell our self that it is just a thought that is scaring us, so first you have to know that you are having a thought, and then you see how that is making you feel. Effectively you split yourself so that one part of you just watches the rest. You ask yourself "what's happening now" if you feel bad, and often you'll find a thought is happening so you tell yourself " my mind is telling me I'm going to fall off the stage" .....  Really? Did you ever fall off the stage?
     The mind loves to tell stories from which we weave imaginary worlds, that we then try hard to inhabit. The kinds of stories we tell ourselves are dependent on our internal state though we tend to blame others for the way we feel. I believe we even create templates that we project on the world around us and are mood dependent. We live in imaginary worlds.
  Why templates? Because the world is an incredibly complex place and we need to make sense of it. The brain is great at focusing attention but fills in the surrounds from imagination built from experience. Magicians exploit this by misdirecting attention such that things can be done before our eyes that we don't see. Personally, with my "sad day' template in place, all I see is sad people that I can't really help. On a happy day even sad people seem to smile, and all problems seem to have a solution. For some people, with their sad day template in place they forget they even have a 'happy day' template though they've used it many times. That's why psychologists say that memories are "state dependent"
  Of course there is an objective world "out there" and it is science's job to establish this. With science we can winnow the imaginary from the real though this is a new idea and we often get it wrong. It's actually sciences' job to prove itself wrong.
 On the other hand the media is occasionally used to manipulate us with constructed delusion. Last night I watched a documentary on how the Liberal party used the media to convince us we we're being invaded by dangerous terrorists during the Tampa crisis. Directives where issued to the armed forces that in no way should the people on the boats be "Humanized". If Australians could see there were humans on the boats they would feel compassion and John Howard would be seen as less than heroic.
   Imaginary worlds are socially constructed and if you tread carefully they can be lots of fun.  I simply use my "best friend" template and doors magically spring open for me. The "real world' is there, but it is a kind of Black box" that must be constantly probed with needles to find out what's inside. There are nasty things out there and real world problems that urgently need solutions. The first stage of finding a solution is to separate the reality from the story we keep telling ourselves. John Howard's "Bogey man" didn't ever exist, but Australians' are still telling his scary stories. The World has scary stuff in it and that's as it should be because without it there would be no evolution and no Human race.
  And the future?  Enjoy the present. If God gives gifts the present is the present! Step boldly on the stage of life and enjoy imaginary Worlds but try not to forget the real world exists.

A letter to the people of Brazil from Greg Scott and the people of Australia

                                                                                                                                Greg Scott
                                                                                                                                28/8/2011    


  
Dear People of Brazil,

   Every time I meet a Brazilian girl I wonder, "Does she have a Brazilian?" I mean, do they all have them? I'm not likely to ever find out but it is interesting. Australia has the Opera House and Ayers Rock but Brazil has a pubic hair style. I'd like to ask the next Brazilian girl I meet but I'm way too polite. Personal hygiene is really none of my business.
   I do think it's really sad, though, when well meaning Australian women swap their map of Tassie for the symbol of another country and pay good money to do it. You Brazilians have infiltrated the very undies of our loved ones, and your economy booms as a result. You're living it up while the poor old Tasmanians go down the gurgler and their whole state turns into an old people's home. Their devils are getting horrible facial tumors so even Bugs Bunny wouldn't have them in his cartoons any more. I sure hope you're satisfied Brazilians!
     Brazilians, sometimes you suck! How would you like it if your loveliest women all started tattooing the Sydney Opera House or Ayers Rock on their buttocks? When I go down I don't want to think of Brazil! I like Tasmania. "Going down to Tassie" is an Australian tradition! Going down to a Brazilian would be like kissing a prickly old man's chin. Yuk! Do they get a five o'clock shadow down there? Doesn't it itch? It's the Hitler mustache of the nether regions!
Seriously, though, I know you don't have a huge rock but you could build an Opera House. You don't have to cut down the Amazon rainforest and pluck the pubic  hair of the world's most beautiful women just to be famous.
   In Australia we like to build big things. We have a big pineapple, a big banana, a big ram, a big cow, a big prawn, a big trout, a big oyster and a big rock. Big things are cool! Most of the big things are hollow and , if it's a big thing with eyes, you can go inside and look out the empty sockets, and see the world just as the particular big thing would see it if it were actually real. When I went in the big ram I imagined being a real big ram and fucking a big sheep and then running amok down George Street during peak hour, squashing people and cars and even whole buses. The Australian Air Force threw everything they had at me but they couldn't beat me because they only had ordinary planes so I got back to Goulburn unharmed and pretended to be a fake big thing again. It was really cool!
    You could build your own big things! How about a big Brazilian? It could have a big clitoris, big enough for all the men to find it, and when they find it they could go inside while a massive finger comes down from nowhere and rubs it so much they all get seasick and start to vomit and go dizzy and stuff.
  Or how about a big rainforest? Some people could go up the big trees into the eyes of the big monkeys, or big toucans or big jaguars or big leeches or big mosquitoes, while others go into the big bulldozers and into the eyes of the big workman and drive over the big trees and big animals and squash them all bigtime, while the big leeches and big mosquitoes come down and suck all the big blood out of the big workman and give him big malaria. Your big things could be much better even than ours!
  Now that I can imagine you guys with big things like us, I don't feel so angry about how you've conned our women into promoting your country by waxing their pubes. Most ordinary Australians leave Tassie off the map anyway and, though they may talk about it, few Aussie men actually go down there. Nobody really cares about Tasmanians. Your average Tasmanian couldn't pull a greasy stick out of a dead dog's arse!
    We've probably got more in common with you guys. For instance- we both live in the best country in the world. Perhaps we could send our best big thing builders over to help train your big thing builders by way of cultural exchange. The people of Brazil are, no doubt, quite lovely and probably started the whole pube promotion thingy completely by accident. It would be easy enough to do. Prince Albert, the Royal Consort of Queen Victoria, was born with a strange hole across the end of his willy and gay men are having their willies pierced to this day. I'm sure, if he knew that would happen he would have kept quiet about it. It's nice to be famous for something, but having a strange hole in your willy doesn't necessarily make you a nice man!
  Anyway, my friends, the people of Brazil, I'm sorry I got so angry. Now we're friends I'm sure you've forgiven my moment of spontaneous abuse. You're great. You still don't have a big rock though.
Best of luck,
Your friends,
Greg Scott and the People of Australia

PS. If you're going to build a big Brazilian you might as well build the whole big bum. Do Brazilian women have nice arses? We could put a big tattoo of the Sydney Opera House on it  to symbolize the new big collaboration between our two big countries (Is Brazil big too?)
PPS. We didn't build the big rock. That was just there and it's only cool because there's nothing else there. The explorers were actually looking for an inland sea with great surfing beaches and stuff but they found a rock instead. At least they found something, I guess, and it did start our national obsession with big things.



    



What About The Fish? by Greg Scott


      Some of my friends are really worried about fish and I think they're right. I mean they are our distant relatives and what did they ever do to hurt us? Just because they're not cute and cuddly it doesn't mean that we shouldn't care.
      This year we had terrible floods in Australia and millions of fish were washed into paddocks where they died in agony under the blazing sun and nobody gave a shit! Come on guys! We have to lift our game here! If one person drowns it's national news but if Uncle Marty the Murray Cod and a million of his fishy mates die in a paddock of asphyxiation the media reports what? Sweet FA!
       And what's with those fishing dudes you see on cable TV fishing shows. They go out in their fancy boats with their fishing dude mates and their fish finders and shit and catch huge fish and, and, and.... and chuck them back in! How weird is that? Poor bloody fish!
        Imagine you're the fish. You're swimming along with your fishy mates, doing your fishy stuff, as you do, happy as a pig in fishy shit, when you think you'll just grab a snack.... and then.... BOOM!!! You're flying through the air into a boat full of filthy fishing dudes who stink and swear a lot, they take a photo of you at the very worst moment of your entire life, weigh you, and then, and then....they chuck you back. I mean really? How rude! Is your weight anybody else's business? And what do you tell your fishy mates? If you tell them they're not going to believe you. Like huge smelly dudes just pulled you out of the sea and humiliated you by weighing you in public without your consent and now you're on "Let's Go Fishing"..... yeah right!
Fishing dudes.... you suck! When those fish meet you they're meeting a land animal for the first time and you should be polite. You guys represent the very pinnacle of 500,000,000 years of evolution and you're giving all of us a bad rap. Who cares what a fish weighs? You're only encouraging eating disorders.
What if it's dangerous? Do we need an ocean full of totally pissed off fish? You see, I think what you're doing by putting the fish back is teaching them about stuff that it's not in our best interests for them to know.
"Like what?' I hear you say,
" WATER YOU DUMB ARSE!"
      They're swimming in it and they don't know what it is because they've never been out of it and come back to tell the tale. They don't even know that WE exist, (at least they didn't once), so they don't know shit about human stuff like cities, and jobs we hate, and lying politicians, and the World Wildlife Fund who only cares about Pandas and Elephants and cute fluffy things that probably eat fish, and piss in the sea and the rivers where they and their mates live!
       All it needs is one fish to convince his fishy mates that he's been to the "Other side" and we have the beginnings of fishy religion. Fishing dudes. By throwing back you could be resurrecting the fishy Messiah. The Perch of Peace. The only begotten son of godlike, swearing, smelly you guys.
        You see, I reckon, what started the evolution of land animals from fishes 500,000,000 years ago was that some smart arse fish must have discovered water and decided it was more fun out of it than in. The miriad of land animals all evolved from the smartest fish in the ocean and not one fish has twigged to it since. That is until some dopy fishing dudes came along filming "Let's Go Fishing"
"Why should we worry about that?"
   Well, dumb arse, fish don't just evolve straight into humans. They don't just wake up one day and decide they're going to stroll up the beach to the pub for a beer. They need to evolve through intermediate species with legs and stuff.
"So" ......
        What happened last time dumbass? I'll tell you what happened! DINOSAURS HAPPENED and dinosaurs are scary! They take shit from no one! They don't just wiggle while you weigh them. They're real mean and into revenge in a big way.
"Revenge for what?"
        Revenge for all their fishy cousins that us dumb arse humans didn't save during the floods, and revenge for their fishy mates who got weighed and publicly humiliated by dirty, smelly fishing dudes for dumb arse people like me to watch on "Let's Go Fishing".
        Please everyone. Be nice to fish, and if you go swimming, don't piss in the sea or you might have to answer to velociraptor.

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