Indie... I mean, like, as a question... Indie?

"Hey Jor El, do you like these guys?"




































"They're, like, independent?* Pfft. You probably haven't even heard of them."






























So that jokes, what, about 3 months too late?

Bit like this post, eh?

My previous approach was to only write when something moderately funny came along. I've tragically been spending most of the last seven months purposefully trying to be unfunny (i.e. work in an office).

But now I think I'll just write something up every week. It might be a bit hit and miss, but at least it'll keep the ol' cyber cobwebs away.

Basically, this blog will now go by the following maxim: If you throw enough shit against a wall, some of it will stick.

Hey, this place is called Experiencing Technical Difficulties- it wouldn't befit the title if everything was perfect.


*Note the unnecessary question mark which signified an upward inflection at the end of that sentence- the verbal equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard.

I also should note that if you're not Australian and/or don't care about politics, it is highly unlikely you'll get what is happening in this 'ere post.

How I pity thee.



Uuuuuupdaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!!






"Hey Clint!"
























"Hrrrgh?"











"Do you like these guys?"

































"They're, like, independent?* Pfft. You probably haven't even heard of them."

A post to boast the most toast at a roast by the coast...

With Coach Yoast!












Too obscure? Well, you try finding famous characters/people with a last name that rhymes with coast! And yes I already thought of Donny Most...






But, "most" was already in the title.

It would have been like Happy Gilmore saying "or maybe we can roll in the hay, or sit by the hay? I just hay". That would have resulted in this dooche winning that battle:













Thereby resulting in the universe exploding.


So, been gone a while, eh. Works been busy. Only time to update is weekends. Jor El likes to sleep the weekends. Etc, etc.

Anyways, here's a funny thread between me and another human being:

Mr F says:
audi
Sven says:
Crysler! You scared the Kitt out of me!
Mr F says:
Falcon hell!
How you Holden up?
Sven says:
Ahaahahhhhhh
But Jor El, Toyota tell you, it's getting pretty late
Mr F says:
JEEPers creepers! You're right!
Sven says:
Honda-stly, I can stay until I get tired
Mr F says:
You can't afFORD to get too tired
Sven says:
I'll tellyathough, those cats up in the ACT, Veyron thin ice.
Mr F says:
hahaha
That Gillard! I wish they'd Lancer already
Sven says:
Aahahahahh
Ohohohhhhhhh
I can't Accord to laugh too hard - it hurts my cheeks
Mr F says:
..erm..
I strugglin' now
Sven says:
Saw this group of beautiful girls at Knox today. LET me TELLLL yOU. I wouldn't mind to F1.
Mr F says:
hahahhahhahahahha
Would you like to ESCORT them to a private room?
Sven says:
Absolutely. No Nissan around.
Sven says:
hahah
Mr F says:
Yeah I bet you and those girls woulda had a real FIESTA
Sven says:
Absolutely. I Skoda a good time.
Mr F says:
Lotus in on the action next time, Sven.
Sven says:
I'll tell you what wasn't bad - the Hummer I got from that girl.
Mr F says:
bhahahha
If I was there, she woulda had a pretty good chevroLAY
Sven says:
I don't doubt it; she can do the Lotus position
Mr F says:
ahha
Well, I've got a reputation now: in the bedroom I'm known as the GRAND CHEROKE
Sven says:
bahahhah
Grand Cherokes have mounted head trohpies on their walls. If you can't find a buffalo, a Vauxhall do.
Mr F says:
Ah that reminds me: i have to renault my hunting license.
Sven says:
You know what, I think I'm out.
Mr F says:
..wait
mmyeah
Sven says:
That was good
Many a laugh
Mr F says:
All this thinking is making me dizzy.. its like I...
have the BENZ


Given one of us was dead tired, and the other had just come out of a fever, I think this wasn't such a bad effort.

Economic phrases with sexual innuendo: A post that is exactly what it sounds like

On a recent trip, an amigo and I had a little too much time/booze on our hands and decided to come up with sentences and phrases involving economic terms that were double entendres of the gettin-id-awwwn variety.

Oh, there were many. And I am proud to say they went beyond the simplistic "I'd like to stimulate her economy" which, without really knowing for shizzle mah nizzle, would have got quite a run of late.

Some of the gems were:

-"I'd like to bust her housing bubble"
-"I'd like to stimulate her retail sector"
-"I'd like to expand her money supply"
-"I'd to cause a spike in her GDP"

But my favorite, due primarily to it's obscurity is:

"I'd like to find a Pareto-efficient outcome in her Edgeworth Box".

I wouldn't bother wiki-ing those terms (because you were, like, totally going to, yeah?)

Stay tuned! This post will return.... right now!

While I was away I spotted this (apologies for out of focus-ness):









Yeah?




























Mmmmmmyeah.

Brotherly advice

To make one thing clear, this post and the previous one are not attempts to create a mini-failbook. In fact, I'm here to show you that face(less)book does have some outstanding qualities.





(Stopping your kids from ever having sex is one... I guess)









But the one I had in mind was the ability to steer a family member away from a dark, dark path.

Click and observe!

I'd sue the instructor for breaching his employment contract: Failbook comes to XTD!

Mmmmyeah... you'll have to click on it.

The Rudd Chronicles: Part I, II and III

First I was like...



















Then I was like...






















Now, I'm like...




















That is all.

Alcohol makes you do stupid things... Boredom too.

Observe, class! The "Bless You" Scorecard:















Yes, boredom makes strange things happen- objects are lost in dark places, wikipedia articles are read from start to finish, youtube comments are glanced at.

Hell, widespread boredom can get the last people you'd want put in positions of power.







(Oh, wait!.. Do-over! Do-over!)







And for me it lead to the creation of the "Bless You" scorecard. Despite the game being at a very embryonic stage, as can be deciphered from the above image, a set of rules have been established. They are as follows:

1. There are no rules!

Oh man, BAHAHHHHAHHAHA! Jeez that's just...ohhh, that's some funny shit! Where do you come up with...oh man!

Seriously though:

1. First participant to say "bless you" after I sneeze gets a point.
2. This is a winner takes all game (i.e. winner gets a point, second place and beyond receives nothing)
3. Bonus points can be received if winner has been creative with their "bless you" (i.e 2 points for "gesundheit", 3 points for "bless you" followed by the showing of concern for sneezer's health)
4. Half points will be rewarded for a mistaken "bless you" (i.e. "bless you" following a sneeze-like cough)
4a. An independent panel will determine the reasonableness of the mistaken "bless you". If the panel finds the bless you-er to be attempting to fraudulently accumulate points (i.e. saying "bless you" to pretty much every noise made by the "sneezer") no points will be received for that particular "bless you".
4b. If the bless you-er continues this behavior, the independent panel reserves the right to subtract points already accumulated by that player.
5. If a "bless you" is said because it was assumed, due to my cold, that there was a high probability I would be sneezing frequently when not within earshot of the contestants, it will not be awarded points
5a. The independent panel, in a similar vein to Rule 4a, reserves the right to deduct points from the offending contestant.

I am very passionate about rule 5. Maria broke it last week by simply giving herself 10pts before I arrived one morning. It is just not on. Stamping out these blatantly unsportsmanlike actions ensures the integrity of the contest.

Here's some more stuff that occurred due to boredom:

















Hooooh! No they didn't! Yes they did! Dude, Jor El and his amigo Warren totally, like, found that office fire warden's hat and, like, totally got a post-it note, wrote 'r' on it, stuck it on top of the letter 'd', and like totally made it look like the hat said 'Warren!'

That is all, except:















The amount of space in a recycling bin taken up by empty beer stubbies is directly proportionate to:

a. The level of awesome experienced the night before,
b. The attractiveness of those around you the night before, and
c. The number of unsolicited apologies made the next day

Word.

C-mon, at least I'm not just photographing random stuff, posting them, then making quips about them. I mean, that would be pretty amateur

One must invest some faith and trust in me on this one (given there are obvious ways in which this could have been fabricated). But, if you are willing to take my word for it dear reader, then you would agree that the alphabet according to Etihad Stadium is quite unique:







Row G follows Row F, then

















Row H follows Row G, then

















Row J follows Row H?









Oversight by staff, or rip in the space time continuum? I was watching the game so I didn't get time to check.

Digression! Here is a sign:
















"Splendid!" I hear you chant as one. A way to avoid traversin' the cruel and unbridled sea tha'is Melbourne town, yar!

One drawback though I noticed did I:


















The corner of Russell and Lonsdale Streets. So, in order to get to the city bypass, one must go through the city.

Sneaky tourism department staff. I'm all for bringing more tourists into experience Melbourne's CBD, but this is the city-planning equivalent of donning a trench-coat with some candy and hitting up the nearest playground.

That is all.

You don't wanna mess with him. He knows Hugh Jackman!

Well.. at the very least, he knows Blanchet, who would be happy to provide Wolverine's number I'm sure.

Anyway, here is Mr. Crowe at a train station. He's looking awfully two dimensional, which is at least one more than how he acts:

















It seems at least one Station Rat has found the other half of his/her wit.















Now, that's just asking for a phone in the face.

Awkwardness

I saw off some relatives who were bound for Europe today. As the send-off party and I drove out of the airport, I decided to phone them to see if they got through customs without the words "this may feel a little cold and weird" being uttered to them.

As I made the call and was promptly directed to the relative's voice-mail, a wanker driver cut us off. The next few seconds were a blur. Essentially though, I decried the wanker's driving style as "asshole-esque" in a somewhat loud tone not long after "leave a message after the beep (BEEP)" came through on the other end of the line.

So, mum, once you land at the airport, there's another Mothers' Day present waiting for you on your voice-mail.

That is all, except for this, which I thought a novel way to start a book:






The book in question.















Page 1.

The Canberry Juice II

I believe Marlon Brando's finest role was in Apocalypse Now. It's the one where he runs his own empire in the rain-forests of Vietnam during the war, drives Blanche Dubois to insanity, then gets assassinated in a mob hit whilst shopping for an interstellar crib to transport his son away from Krypton. This paves the way for Al Pacino to take over as head of the family. Then James Caan gets shot at a toll booth because he asked for a receipt.

Robert Duvall was there too!*

Then Rage comes on and you trip out from Styx's Domo Arigato film clip.









("Now, is it still your dream to have a robot for a best friend, Timmy?")



And then I turned to the Prime Minister and said...

Come to think of it, perhaps my memory is a little hazy from what occurred in our fair capital this weekend just gone. Apocalypse Now was definitely on at some point during the night. And the obligatory Rage-athon occurred sometime after 3.30am.

Canberra amigo #A5389 was giving fun facts about the movie, one of which was that the director blew the budget badly (true) and it totally ruined his career, resulting in him never making another movie (hmm). After doing some arduous research, Wikipedia told me that the director was Francis Ford Coppola, who has made many a film post-Apocalypse (dohoho, see what I did there?)






(Whether some of these films should have been made is a whole other kettle-o-fish)














Canberra amigo #A5389 must have got confused with Frances Ford Coppola, the younger sister of the legendary Francis. Like her older sibling, she did not mind the odd sequel. But, as is the case with most things in life, it is matter of degree, and alas, Frances was a bit of, and known universally as, a "sequel slut".

Case study: Casablanca 2 was her first feature. Here, Sam was still playing. But instead of piano, it was a significant role in the US civil rights movement.

'Blanca 2 bombed, but in fairness to the more feminine Ford Coppola, the seeds for a sequel were planted in the original:







"Play it, Sam".














"Orders from a white lady! Gah'damn, cracker! Your boy Rick 'as already gah'me posin' in dis'here white suite! What'chu playin' at girl?"









"What's next? Your boy Rick goin' Mister Bumble on me? Puttin' mah black ass up foe'sale onda side of d'road like a common slave?"










"(Sigh). Here's lookin' at you... gettin' yo pasty white ass stomped, Rick!"








Danger! Danger! Reference overload! Probability of this post passing the obscurity precipice: 78.34%!

Very well. Onto what I was in Canberra for- A dance festival named Wharehouse. My favorite song was the one that went "doof, doof, doof, doof", though the one that went "mmph, mmph, mmph, mmph" was good as well. To the writer's of "bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow": Far too predictable.

On the plane back to Melbourne, the attendant implored us to "keep our seat-belts on because the plane was still being refueled". I'll leave it to you to ponder the nexus between those variables.








("Stop you fool! Mr Takahashi of 23B just got up to go to the toilet")













*Man, this post is gonna suck if you haven't seen any of these films. Actually, you know what? If you haven't seen any of these films, you suck. Onus on the reader, dag nabit!

It's pronounced Pacman!

Take my word for it (you'll have to as my crappy camera phone's flash is sub-par and thus no photo was taken), last night I saw a '10-man Ghosting'.

Puzzlement, much? There should not be. However, for clarity's sake, here is what I suppose you would call a 'one man ghosting':


















Crank that shit up to 10, brah, and you got some fully sick ghosting activity, eh!

I should add one qualification however- there was only one victim. In other words, there was one 'ghostee' with 9 'ghosters' following, the latter group of course all being in cahoots. Indeed, this was another shining example of the power of awesome juice when it comes to fostering camaraderie.






(Pictured left: Awesome Juice, circa Beer 0'clock/Alc-O'clock)












What would be great to see is a ghosting attempt in which the ghosters were made up of several factions rather than the conglomerate ghost which I witnesses last night. You would have the original ghostee, followed by a ghoster, then perhaps a group of 3 who ghost the ghoster (2nd generation ghosters, or Spiriters), then 1,2 or 3 folks who ghost the ghosters of the initial ghostee (3rd gen ghosters, or Shadowers), and so on.

The dream is to witness a Fully Splintered Ghosting, in which the ghost, consisting of numbers similar to what I witnessed, is made up entirely of individual members, with each member of the ghosting attempt unaware that he/she is the victim of another ghosting attempt.

To digress, Pokemon is stupid.

With that in mind, I took a test to find my Pokeganger (so, you know, I could sleep at night). The test was made up of questions such as "Your about to preform infront of a crowd, how do you feel?" and statements such as "you heard your freind just got a new stereo, and "You are stranded in a desert. You are almoast out of water".

It ended with "OMG! JUSTIN BIEBER IN NYC! Do you want to see him play live?"

Who the fuck is.. you know what, I don't care. It's probably Twilight related or something, no? Well, same demographic I'm betting.









(Future leaders)






Anyway so, here it is:











Apparently, I am Mewtwo. I am pink and purple (eesh, don't mess with me. I'll kill you by threatening you sexuality)...

Okay here's what the quiz really said: "I know anger most of all your emotions (WTF?). I hold grudges against people, and swear to take revenge on anyone who gets in my way. I have a heart of power, and I constantly use that power in a bad way".

Alrighty then. Not too bad quiz-man.

However, I'm going to overrule and go with Skarmory:



















Metallic, cold, soulless, looks pissed.


























Mmmmyyyep!

Fun with a Gun

Gun!




















+ Guitar slide




















= Gun with silencer!












Updaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!

Expect a name change soon as I'm gonna hopefully have some music up soon, and there is something about 'Experiencing Technical Difficulties' that just ain't proper for a semi-musical blog.

Sorry to those folks who have already bought the T-shirt. Send your requests for refunds to shoveitupyourass@dealwithityoufuckingcheapskate.com.au.