What’s This On My… Handover??!?!?!

Since Adam has decided to fuck off completely for a while, he was unable to step in and fill my needs as a man. I wanted him to interview myself and the other Jobe (which is talking now? Is it the new Jobe, or the old Jobe? Or is it Adam!!!??). So anyway, I interviewed the other Jobe myself. Contained henceforth is the precedingly mentioned interview. It’s hardcore Jobe on Jobe action, baby.

Jobe (hitherto ‘J’): Do you think people will find this confusing and won’t believe that there are two Jobes, since it is such a rare name?

Jobe (hitherto ‘J’): I think once they realise that Jobe was never either of our real names they will relax and, hopefully, chill out. But people are unpredictable.

J: Ain’t that the truth.

*awkward silence*

J: So what do you think the main differences will be between the old ‘Hand’ and new ‘Hand’?

J: Well it looks like one major fucking difference right away: The abbreviation has changed from ‘WTOMH’ to ‘Hand’.

J: Do you think people will accept such a radical change?

J: Probably not. They get set in their ways since they aren’t as dynamic as us. We have the skills to adapt and survive. It’s like Darwinism but with dynamicism replacing fitness.

J: Isn’t that like playing God though?

J: In a way. Gosh though, you really are a hard interviewer. I wouldn’t be surprised if they sacked Denton and gave you the job. Except in a much harder chair. Redwod maybe.

J: Do you even know if redwood is a hard timber?

J: No. But does anyone?

J: I honestly couldn’t say.

J: Do you think people will be confused at how the interviewer/interviewee roles just changed then?

J: I doubt they picked up on it. They always miss the subtleties of the work done on this blog.

J: Do you think the new style of ‘Hand’ will be more accessible? I.e. dumbed down so the readers can read it/print it out and stick it on their office cubicles to show their colleagues that they have a sense of humour amongst the crushing grey walls surrounding them?

J: In the beginning. Then once they’re addicted the hand will transform into a foot made of gems and the hopes of children.

*awkward pause*

J: Oh, sorry, I thought you were going to complete that sentence.

J: No. Do you think the readers will like the new ‘fucking with the structure of sentences in an unholy way’ that ‘Hand’ will pioneer?

J: I doubt it. The religious readers will certainly shit their pants. I don’t even want to think about what the religious English teachers will do.

J: Notice the interviewer/interviewee role changed again?

J: No, even I missed that one.

J: I’m glad Adam didn’t do the interview. I think we’re more talented.

J: Me too.

Give It Up, Jobe!

It seems everyone in the world is asking one thing after last night’s post: what’s the meaning of life? But I have no idea, LOL. One question a couple of people have asked, though, is why am I leaving the world’s most amazing blog in the world? Why NOW? It just isn’t fair! Calm down, I tell them. You look ugly when you’re throwing a tantrum. I have the answer for you though.

I’m not leaving because of any cliché reason, like I don’t have the time, or I’m sick of it, or I don’t have the net anymore, or some tired shit like that. I’m also not going to spin you one of my “stories” and say I’m going off to fight moon creatures on Mars (why go so far? why not fight halfway?).

I’m leaving because I hate many of you. You drive me crazy(er?). This is undeniably one of the best blogs in the entire world, yet only 20 people see fit to visit me every day. I should probably have millions of visitors, or at least 100. Yes I’m conceited. No I don’t see how you could not like this blog. Actually, I can, but I can’t see why only 20 people would like it. That’s just crazy.

And it’s also because I’m crazy that I’m stopping this blog. I have a slight mental condition where I can’t stop talking/typing. It’s fine during the day because it’s my job to talk. But at night it’s bad. My doctor told me to find some sort of outlet for all the words buzzing around in my mind. I chose masturbation and blogging, though not necessarily in that order (at least not every night. I like to switch it up/ indulge in variety).

It worked in some way, giving me something to do instead of annoying my family and friends with constant chatter. But at the same time it was a spectacular failure. It did nothing to cure my affliction, merely providing a socially acceptable distraction. For that I will always resent my doctor. Who knows what else I could have done in these past six months with the amount of time I’ve wasted writing every night. I’ve got three blogs, two poorly-written books and a funny-in-a-way-only-I-get sitcom (an entire 10 episode series) all written, just sitting there. For what?

So I’m going to try a new method of treatment in the new year. And that’s why I’m leaving the blog now. I wish it was a better reason, quite honestly.

A Peel

This morning the front door was opened and I saw an odd sight.

Someone had placed a very large rock on my doorstep.

Yet that was the normal part.

They poured milk all over the rock and discarded the bottle (3 litre) in the garden.

Someone PLEASE tell me what the fuck this is about.

My guesses:

• New service: Performance art ON YOUR DOORSTEP
• I have enemies?
• A chilling case of mistaken identity.
• Immigration department bungle.

Hotbabes and I

One of the most apparent motifs of this site is women, or ‘hotbabes’ as I like to affectionately refer to them as. But the harsh truth is that my history with women is a complete and utter disaster. It has been so awful, in fact, that for the past six months I have been avoiding any contact with the female race that is outside the boundaries of work and shopping for life-sustaining nourishment.

It started at the beginning with my first relationship and sexual encounter. It happened later in life than most kids these days and every single moment was awkward. We were together because we thought it would be better than being alone. The truth was somewhere in the middle. I’m not going to lie and say it was totally awful, but the fact that it ended hardly surprised me. It was one of those deals where it will either mutually end without a fuss or it will drag on forever and force you to give up on life and get one of those dead-end basement office jobs. I always had an odd fascination for windows, so that idea never really appealed to me.

After we’d been going out for a couple of months, punctuated too frequently by awkward silence, we felt some sort of obligation to have sex. We had never been affectionate towards each other, certainly not in public or anything, so it was an odd feeling. I suppose it was just a mix of hormones and desperation. Because we were still living at home (and both had large families) we had to plan the “event” ahead, effectively ruining any chance of passion. But poor timing was one of the things we always had in common.

She was a little sick on the day we had set as sex day. Food poisoning or something. Since we’d planned it for long we still decided to go through with it. It was like something we had to get out of the way. Like putting the sickly family dog down. We started by watching a movie. Neither of us had the confidence—or desire—to rush into it. I think we watched ‘Weekend at Bernies’ or something. Maybe the sequel. I can’t remember.

When the movie finished we felt the crushing weight of inevitability on our shoulders. There was no escaping what was going to happen shortly. She said it would be more comfortable on her bed, so we went to her room and undressed in silence, avoiding eye contact. She lay waiting on her bed while I unwrapped the single condom I had brought and put it on. I think my hand was shaking at the time.

I entered her. She let out a muffled cry as the hymen broke and held me tighter for a split second. I didn’t even last four thrusts before I felt like I was going to come. It was at that moment I realised I had either applied the condom incorrectly or purchased the wrong size as I realised it was slipping off. I withdrew to evaluate the scene and the condom stayed inside her.

It was then that we heard the noises coming from downstairs. Her family had come home early. Or we had just wasted two hours watching an awful movie. Whatever. Poor timing, etc. A look of terror came over both of our faces. It was the only time in our months as a couple that we felt together. She shifted to grab some clothes to cover herself up and her thigh brushed my penis. It was all I needed. I came over her chest, breast and face. She sat straight up in horror. Too fast, it would seem, for someone with food poisoning. She sat there for a moment and her expression suddenly changed. She threw up on my naked body. I put my clothes on, over the vomit, and ran home, right past her family. We never spoke again. We saw each other around a few times after that but both pretended we hadn’t noticed the other one and kept walking. It was easier that way. I never did like dealing with things.

I’d like to say that it got better from there but I would be lying. They didn’t get much worse than that, but they certainly didn’t magically improve. I went out with a couple of other girls. Each time it was a similar story as the first. There was never any passion, never a spark. In its place was awkwardness, settling for less and pitiful desperation. I would later realise that every girl I have ever been with had issues which caused her to look for love that could never happen. In many ways I took advantage of them. So I stopped associating with girls.

Because my supply was cut off I began to fall for every girl that showed me the slightest bit of attention. An odd tone from a cute cashier would make me giddy for weeks afterwards as I dissected the event and wondered what I could have done to make her my wife.

Then one day it just stopped. I was over it all. Talking to girls became an exercise in patience. I resented them all and couldn’t--or didn't want to--hide my bitterness. This led to me getting a reputation as being aloof and those few females I had as friends soon departed my life.

So I started this blog and every now and then I like to write about how I wished those dates had really gone. Then maybe I wouldn’t be here; confused. But somehow they always end up going wrong.

OMG Truth Serum

Since I’m leaving this blog in the new year and handing controls over to a young fellow I’ve been grooming to take over (with a comb?), I thought I might make the last few posts a bit more personal so you can get to know the dude behind the posts/bushes.

You might even seem some of the incidents from my life that have influenced the state of mind that has created the undeniable humour for you and your children.

OMG Truth Serum

Strangers With Candy

Today a memory surfaced that I had completely buried.

I was about 8 years old and I’d only been walking to and from school by myself for a few months. In every respect it was a day like any other, except something happened that would shatter my tiny world.

I was walking to school. The walk to school was always quieter than the walk home. Less people around on the streets. I got about halfway to school when I noticed a car was driving behind me slowly. The car sped up slightly so it could overtake me and stop a few metres ahead.

As I walked past the window sunk into the door. A man was in there. He wore a hat and dark sunglasses. He leaned over to speak to me.

“Hey, kid. I just went to the shop and bought too much candy. You want some?”
“Uh… sure…” I said. I’d be told about stranger danger but somehow I was frozen in the moment and I couldn’t run.
“Then why don’t you come a little closer to the car. It’s hard for me to give you the candy all the way over there.”
He had a point. I approached the car.
“That’s it,” he smiled. “Nice and close. This candy is really good.”
I got right up close to the door.
“You’ll have to reach in to get it. I have a bad back, I don’t want to lean over.”
I leaned into the car and reached for the bag he held.
He gave me the candy.
“Thanks, kid. I couldn’t eat all that. You have a good day now. Bye.”
And he drove off.

Nice guy

For Honour

I just got challenged to a fight by Cheetos.

Behind A block after school.

Fuck I’m scared. I don’t know if I should turn up to fight Cheetos. But if I don’t then people will call me a pussy.

Firstdate

I went on a firstdate with Miss Perfect tonight. It went pretty well until the end of the night. I won’t go into details about what happened because I respect her privacy. Suffice to say I don’t think we’ll see each other again.

Secret Message (They’ll Know It’s For Them)

If you were so fucking perfect you’d take it up the arse, bitch.

Shut Your Trap

I don't want to fall in.

Getaway

So I’ve booked a trip for next year. I’m heading off to the Galapagos Islands.

The following is my list of shit to see and do:

• Mack hella Galapigan bitches
• See the scenery
• Swim
• Find Atlantis
• Have adventures in the dunes
• Wear sunglasses
• Avoid as many creatures as possible. Oh how I hate animals. The Galapagos Islands used to be the bomb before the animals turned up and ruined shit.

First Date

So I was in a friend’s kitchen today, watching them cook, when I asked what they were making. They said they were making a date loaf. I was all “what the fuck is that?” and they said it’s a sweet loaf made with dates.

Sounded pretty ill.

Didn’t know how they used dates for cooking so I asked him what it was all about. He said that dates were sort of like grapes and raisins and pointed to a packet of dates, saying that I was free to try one.

I tried one.

It was the first date I’d ever had.

It was okay, I guess. Nothing special.

Frequently Asked Question

A lot of people ask “Jobe, with all the firstdates you go on, are you worried about contracting STDs?”

Talk about an awkward question! It’s total strangers asking that shit too. So fucking personal.

The Curse of the Green Tea Bandit

For some reason I get all fucked up when I drink lots of green tea. I’m talking like 2 litres of homemade shit per day. None of your store-bought bullshit.

I can’t sleep, I get all twitchy and once I get started on something I can go for hours losing all sense of time and decency.

But on the plus side it makes my eyes feel smooth. So smooth.

Things I Know About Bears

• Source of bear hugs
• Not the source of strawbeary jam
• Possibly the source of email
• Eat fish
• Enjoy the company of loved ones
• Lots of cartoons about them but usually drawn by outsiders who don’t understand the culture and are just trying to cash in
• Modern day descendants of man
• Ordering a slab of them can result in confusion
• Magnetic
• Pink ones are still deadly/fashionable

If I Hear This Conversation One More Time…

“Tomatoes these days just don’t taste as good as they used to.”

Staunch Campaigner

Everyone knows that I am the biggest supporter of the Ronald McDonald House ‘Trance For Kids’ program in the world of entertainment. But lately I’ve felt they’ve lost focus and I’ve decided to think of becoming the face of a new charity. Here are a few of the options I’ve considered:

Taliban
Need new public face to inspire and give hope. Good because I can think of catchy slogans like “lend a hand to the Taliban, man”. Bad because the chicks aren’t that good.

Free The Refugees
Everyone loves free things! It’s a fact of life/business (OMG aren’t they the same thing!). Good because I can use the experience I gained working at McDonalds. Bad because the refugees can not speak English and therefore cannot thank me (is it can not or cannot? Make up your mind for the sake of prose!).

Red Cross
Very well known charity that does a lot of good work. Good because I will get seen by a lot of people and I can do a lot of work. Bad because red isn’t my colour and cause isn’t “underground” enough (I’m still pissed about the can not/cannot thing).

Breaking Blogger

Now that I’m well over 800 posts I’m wondering if it’s possible to break my blogger {{IN TWAIN}} <--- oh shit exploding words are BACK!

The only person I can think of that has more posts than me would be that Peretti chick. I should email her and ask for tips on managing a massive load of blogger.

If I Were A Hotbabe

I would probably have the following things:

• About 20 times more hits to the site than I get now.
• 5 marriage proposals.
• Make-up
• Many singlets
• Admirers
• The UN knocking on my door
• Fudge, lots of fudge

This Is What It Sounds Like…

Either there are fireworks going off outside my window or a small carload of clowns (ie lots of clowns) have exploded.

What If SLASH Regrets

If I had gotten into art school I think I would have been the best performance artist in the class. For my final project I would grow a flower from the vagina of a dead female burglar. It would symbolise the line between life and death, good and bad, creation and destruction, burglar and flowerpot.

I would get an A. I wouldn’t let on that I was happy with the mark and I say that the praise of my colleagues and the sense of achievement I got were reward enough.

OCSCD

I’ve been diagnosed obsessive-compulsive-self-conscious. It’s such a disorder.

I wash my hands constantly, because I don’t want people to think that they’re dirty. But then because my soap is scented I become worried that people will know that I just washed my hands.

WHY CAN’T I HAVE NATURALLY CLEAN HANDS?

The Answer To Music Piracy

Just make your band, song and album names all extremely common words so when people search for them they will get a million matches and will give up they are so disheartened. Or, better yet, just letters and numbers.

You will also get points among the music crowd for being pretentious and, possibly, enter the {{bonus round}}.

The Christmas Curse

Every year it happens. I can’t escape it.

The problem is that I’m such a snappy dresser I know how to accentuate my curves (of supply and demand?) and hide my tremendous weight problem (Jobe... but… I thought… I thought you were perfect? PLEASE tell me this is a guest post! I CAN’T believe I masturbated over you, fatty!).

But when people buy me clothing the have no idea of my REAL size and always buy me shit that is too small. 10% of my closet is clothing I have received as gifts that I will never wear. They still have the tags on them. One day I may go into business.

NEVER BUY ME CLOTHES BECAUSE YOU CANNOT WIN!

Wanna buy a shirt? Cheap. Still got the tags and all.

Cellar Door

I can’t watch Donnie Darko without bursting into tears after considering how different my life would have been if I had a ‘Sparkle Motion’ club in my school.

*sigh*

Quick Post

Just a quick post to let you know that the posts I wrote while drinking green tea have finished. “Normality” will resume.
Note: I have been posting out of order. This post is now incorrect. The posts I made while drinking green tea will begin again now for a while.

Gifts I Got For Christmas (Ordered From Best To Worst)

• Voucher for Westfield (from all my hotbabes) (OMG how did they know? Best gift EVER!)
• A fish made out of macaroni shells (from King Neptune)
• A book on how to “be goth” (from the girl in the book store I’ve been trying to impress by acting goth)
• Jessica Rowe moved to Channel 9 so there is more Tracy Spicer airtime (from channels 9 and 10)
• Car and a card (from my readers) (Wrong model and colour. Could you have chosen WORSE?)

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLL!!!!!

I like to set myself achievable goals so when I achieve them—which is not too difficult—I feel great!

Check out my current goals:

• Get my life in order by my next birthday. This will be judged based solely on if I have managed to develop a hilarious mock-menu where I am the dish and the restaurant on Microsoft Word.
• Have a child, by the end of next month, fall down in front of me OR fall down in my mind.
• Cook and consume a human being before I die.
• Meet a nice girl. Girl can be already known and can be a relative or worker in fast food eatery, I merely need to meet them somehow. Eg “hey, Mum, what time are we meeting downstairs for dinner?”

I think three is a good number of goals to have.

Must Be The Salt Air

Today my dog began to rust but I remedied the situation.

Everyone was relieved.

Geography 101

The capital letter of Australia is ‘A’.
A lot of people say 'Sydney'.

An Insight Into My Mind

I TaLk LiKe ThIs BeCaUsE It BeSt ExPrEsSeS mY eMoTiOnS rIgHt NoW?!?!?!
Not to mention it looks kEwL.

800 Reasons To Love Me

This is the official 800th post on this blog.

Since there won't be another post for approx 27 hours, why don't you share your favourite posts from the past 800 and brag about how you totally discovered me before everyone else ({{hardcore}}!).

Colour Me Pink

I wish I could shade myself with a pencil. It would allow me to shade some areas darker than others to create dramatic features.

It would also let me convey my mood at the time (in symbolic colours).

Life of the Party

When I get drunk I steal from people and prematurely ejaculate during sex.

I get invited to a lot of parties.

OMG Truth Serum

If I could breed with any animal and produce hybrid children it would be a lobster.

But I would probably have to lower my standards dramatically and do it with a shit animal like a socially awkward frilly-neck lizard.

OMG Truth Serum

Get Ready To Vote

For, like, two days only (SALE TIME!), this site will be transformed into a new realm of attractiveness. During these two days you will vote on if you like the old design or the new design.

But be warned, the new design has been specifically designed to be liked by 50% of readers and despised by 49% (1% being fence sitters).

I really hope you’ve read the pamphlets from both sides.

Quick Post *

This is just a quick post to let you know that I’ve written about 30 entries tonight but I’m going to have to save them in Word for now and post them later, spread out, so as not to totally freak you out/piss off Steph (*sigh* I’m so (secretly) whipped).

* Yes I am aware this post doesn’t really differ from yesterdays.

I actually wrote this one first though. Hard to believe, ey? Mark that down for when WTOMH trivia happens.

Quick Post

This is just a quick post to let you know that I wrote about 30 entries last night but I won’t put them up until more people come to my blog.

Any hotbabes wanna go shopping tomorrow? I’m in the mood for a bargain. On my shopping list include:

• Clothes
• Lobster (pet)
• Lobster (food)
• Lobster food (for pet)
• Love