Great news!

I've finished the development of my first mobile app and very soon I'll be rich and I can take you far, far away from here!

My app allows you to select any song as your alarm tone, and when you wake up the artist selected will be in your bed and ready for sex. One slight downside is that as soon as the alarm goes off they feel a huge tinge of regret as they realise that they're about to sleep with a fan so obsessive that they've used you as their alarm tone.

One day love will work out, Taylor Swift. One day...

Why is there always a stripper called Destiny?

So the producers have made a late change to my musical. It's now called "Hooroo, Freedom".

I don't like it, but I respect their input.

In related news, tickets for Burke's Backyard: The Musical Hooroo, Freedom are now on sale at all good newsagents.

I just hope there is no confusion when people ask for tickets to Hooroo, Freedom and they think there is no such show, because the only show they know about is Burke's Backyard: The Musical.

So my tip is: if they act like there is no such show, just keep on insisting that they are wrong.

Checking In

Hey everyone!

I know it's been a while but I just wanted to check in and tell you all how great my musical is coming along. It's been quite a few months of hard (but rewarding!) work to get to this point, but I'm so excited that soon I'll be able to share Burke's Backyard: The Musical with you and the world.

BB:TM musically follows the journey of Don Burke who decides to go and work in Afghanistan as a contractor in a multinational landscaping firm. Despite wearing a beard to disguise himself as taliban, Burke is suspected to be an American spy and is kidnapped for ransom.

Much of the play focuses on Burke's struggle with his sanity as the weeks of incarceration turn into years.

I don't want to give too much away, but in the chilling final scene, Burke realises that he has become the westerner held for the longest without death or release (he is full of facts) and dreams of his perfect garden while singing a reworked version of the Burke's Backyard theme song. Then he kills himself.

I'll let you know when you can get tickets!

Party at mine.

BYO Jenga.

Whatever happened to trains having normal people on them?

On this train there are kids eating a Cole's cake like apes, a dude praying and me masturbating furiously.

I use to stand out and get attention before...

I don't understand love handles.

But I also don't understand love, so I may be putting the cart before the horse.

I can count the number of wanks I've had today on one hand.

FAQ

Q: I've managed to capture lightening in a bottle.

This is not as good as you might imagine.

Unfortunately, if you touch the bottle you are electrocuted and die.

I have attempted to put a warning label on the bottle to stop touching it, but either I get electrocuted and die (thankfully I am a cat so have a few more lives left) or the label just vapourises upon contact to the bottle.

So I guess what I'm asking is what would be a good non-conductive material (preferably in stick form) that I could use to apply a warning label to my bottle?


A: Whoa, thanks for the question guys (4 guys have asked this). Are you one of those golden waving cats in the front of Chinese restaurants? If so, you are fucked.

Try asking a plastic version of yourself to apply the label for you and you should be fine.

Parenting: you're doing it wrong

"If there's grass on the pitch it's time to play" does NOT apply to puppies.

Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light. Unless you want to buy more meth.

Most days I stare at the mirror and yell "ONE DAY THIS WILL ALL BE YOURS"

Is this something I tweet, Facebook or blog? <-- modern problems

Hey, endorphins, piss off so I can sleep so I'm not tired for work so I can get through it as comfortably as possible <-- modern life

"I feel dehydrated from all of the methamphetamine," said the talking cat in my room to the mouse (who is unable to speak or understand the cat, thus making the interaction pointless).
"You need help," said the mouse, finally getting it.

I recall the winter of 1970 being particularly harsh, as the itching that started 6 months ago drove us all mad with frustration.

"How much is that doggy in the window?" she said, repeating my question.

Brain,

How many drinks do I need to put down my throat before you quit you incessant "thinking"?

Is it 3? I sure hope it is 3.

Higher than a snake on the viewing platform of a skyscraper.

If Twitter existed when I was a child then I doubt I'd be so frightened of snakes.

I got arrested for some crimes yesterday so I got taken to the station and interviewed.

The cop interviewing me was really hard-hitting (his name was Officer Cushioned Blow) and he was trying really hard to make me say I did all of the crimes.

At one point he said I better admit to the crimes or I'll be playing "spin the soap" in prison.

I think he meant it as a deterrent but, man, I love games and I like the idea of the forced interaction that prison brings since normally people all leave when I ask to play games with them. Then I have to kill them and it wastes a lot of my day.

My neighbour in the unit next to me has such a loud alarm that I can hear it in the morning.

Finally, I kind of know what it's like to sleep with someone: slightly inconvenient when they get up before you and you want to keep sleeping; distant.

I labelled some of my socks as "odd socks" and grouped them together.

Now the other socks make fun of them.

When they grow up, these socks are going to become stand-up comedians.

Just so you know, I am well aware that this blog hasn't been good in years.

But I feel it's important to keep it going as an alarming example of what happens to the creative brain when it's forced to do non-creative work for extended periods of time (hint: this is where something funny would go if I was still able to think of funny things.

Happy Valentine's

The wry, unacknowledged smile of a couple that are going to give it up tonight.

The look of fear on the face of a guy trying not to do anything to fuck it up. Making as few movements as possible in case one is the wrong one.

And her. Desperately wanting him to do something to earn it so she doesn't feel like a whore for giving it up.

Fuck MasterChef.

I'd like to see a show called MasterDrinker.

It would be a competition to see who could act the soberest when drunk.

Episodes/Challenges include:
- A bottle of wine and access to a Twitter account
- Unlimited drinks at a work function
- Drink until you see God (person who sees God first is eliminated)

The fun thing about writing comedy is that you spend hours debating the funniness of different words in your head while your chances of having a functioning adult life pass you by.

The greatest trick the devil ever played was this one April fool's when he rigged up a pulley system in his mate Ryan's place so that a fake snake dropped when Ryan opened the door.

My goal for work tomorrow is to use the word "exoticity" as much as is feasibly possible.