What's Jobe Been Up To?

This Can All Be Yours, For A Princely Sum

I won’t lie to you readers, I need to get myself laid (OMG SHOCKZ!).

In an effort to get laid, last night I went to a bar. I know what you’re saying: “But Jobe, a bar is no place to go to get laid!” And you’d be right/intruding on my post.

But last night I did things a little differently.

I was thinking how every girl was excited when that Aussie chick got picked up by that prince in the Aussie bar. So last night I got dressed up as a prince and headed down to my local to get some guaranteed hotbabe action. To be extra sure, I made up a little prince dance (not a dance for little princes, idiot).

So I stepped in the bar and walked around. It was going well. VERY well. Nearly every chick in the place was looking at me. A lot of guys too. Which is cool, but I don’t get down for that.

But then I thought, “this isn’t me. I don’t want to have to LIE to get with a chick,” apologised and left.

WTOMH Live: Metro Theatre, January 25, 2006 and The Gaelic Club, January 26, 2006 (Combined Concert Review)

What, a combined concert review? What the heavens is that, Jobe? Well, let me tell you!

It all started at the Metro on Wednesday. A sold out venue greeted me with sentiments and words (ie rock-n-roll devil hands). I skipped the Aussie hip hop opening the show because I thought it would be shit and turned up in time to watch Common from the backstage area. He was quite good, if a little up himself.

I came on and gave a performance of stunning goodness and humility.

Afterwards I was hanging out with the whole crowd when someone suggested that we all hang out until after the show on Friday. I was like, “Okay, that sounds pretty fresh,” and since everyone was hanging on my words we did that.

Thursday was fun. We had a BBQ and spoke about literature, poetry and profound indie rock bands.

Friday I had to go to work so everyone came with me. They sat around and played the guitar and sung songs. Not very well, but their hearts were in it, so it looked sad.

Eventually Friday night came around and we all headed to the Gaelic Club to see me perform once again. The Grates opened up. They were okay. The lead singer acted like a punk Sarah Blasko. Eg can’t dance for shit. But the crowd kept egging her on and she got more and more into it. PRICELESS!

Sleater-Kinney came on next and were quite competent. The girl that looked like Mick Jagger was very rocky. I think I may have a lovechild with her one day. It will be called Peppermint Tea Infusion.

Finally I came on and topped off a fun week of WTOMH Live! shows.

See you next time everyone. Thanks for supporting.

Yours, In Anticipation

So I should hit the 1000th post next month some time.

I wonder what I should do to celebrate the occasion.

Maybe freak out and never blog again?

Or something that people will talk about for a day or two. Coz, I mean, ONE THOUSAND is a shitload of posts.

Who Is Your Favourite Italian Prime Minster?

Because mine is probably Giulo Andreotti


I stand for solemn economic reform and a reduction in smiling in Goverment

What More Can I Say?

Wow! What a week for WTOMH Live! shows!

Tonight we head to Sydney’s Gaelic Club to end with a BANG! Sleater-Kinney supporting, Rach hunting on the menu.

Regrouping

Okay, so I sit here wondering what I can do to win this year. It’s obvious my strategy failed. This year’s strategy:

• Give bad reviews to all competing blogs regardless of whether they were good.

So I’m thinking that next year I’ll do things a little differently. I won’t say much for now: playing my cards close to my chest and so forth. But I will say one thing: I’m guaranteed to win.

Oh, and for all the blogs I gave bad reviews to: I will give you real reviews soon. What fun! It’d be bad if you STILL got a bad review, wouldn’t it.

We Was Robbed

Beaten by The Government in both categories.

Tax dollars hard at work.

I'm disgusted by you Australia. Open your eyes to the lies this Government is spreading, cleverly disguised as inoffensive bloggers.

Identity Crisis

My good friend Gavin Dixon made a post the other week about what he thinks some of us fellow bloggers look like. And OH BOY! was he miles off in most cases (ie mine).

Also in Steph's case. This is what he thought:


This is what I think (that's her in the red):


This is what he thought I look like:


Pretty snazzy looking dude, I think you'll all agree. But is the kid in there fifteen? The scary thing about this is that if you take about 5 years and 40 kilos off me then THE KID ALMOST DOES SORT OF LOOK LIKE ME!

I'm scared. Is my female readership disappointed? I hope not. Oh man, now that my picture of someone who sort of maybe looks like me if you squint is out there I feel so exposed.

I Deserve (to be in) an Award (for crazy people)

Looks like the Australian Blog awards will be announced from 6pm tonight.

I’m in the process of typing up a hate-filled diatribe against people who read blogs and vote.

SHOULD BE A FUN NIGHT!

Cape Fear

Is it possible to be afraid of dolphins but not porpoises?

When they see a dorsel fin in the water to they freak out for a minute until they confirm that it isn’t a dolphin?

Or are they “ooooo what a lovely porpoi….. OH MY GOD”?

Go-Go Girl

If I was a hotbabe I’d go to public places with a friend and say things like “so a robot with high artificial intelligence ate me out last night. It was pretty cool.”

My friend would say things like, “yea, the advancement in intelligent robot development is really important and related to globalisation.”

Yes, I Will Drink That

Hi Kids,

Blogging live from the WTOMH Live! after party. The show tonight was great. Review will be up tomorrow.

Not all is going well at the after party though. I’m having a great time, but my head keeps saying “let’s blow this joint and go listen to some house music and take pills.”

Fucking strange if you ask me. I just wish the voices would stop. I don’t even like house music!

{{Skeleton Sighting}}

Jelly Fiend, Since Before I Became A Teen

I got 100 more jelly cups today.

I think they will soon overtake glow-sticks and amphetamines as the number one dance party companion.

WTOMH Live: Candy’s Apartment, January 24, 2006 (Concert Review)

After my previous experience with putting Aussie hip hop acts on the support act (no, I won’t link you), I was a little worried tonight to have Sleeping Monk and 13th Son & Fame on the support list. Turns out my fears weren’t unfounded: They were pretty average.

Edan came on next to bring a bit of class to the evening. I was quietly confident that he would restore consumer confidence so I could come on after and do my thing to a happy crowd. My confidence in Edan was rewarded. The guy was something incredible. One of the best support acts I’ve worked with.

I was sort of tired when he was done since it was late and I’d been working all day (and had to get up early the next day for more work!). After Edan finished I asked the crowd if they want to just go home and get some sleep since it was getting sort of late and we'd already been entertained. They agreed.

We all walked back to the station together, talking about how hardcore we will sleep when we get home.

Hypothesis

Small idea here. I dunno, haven’t thought it through.

How about banning all people who live in the shire from leaving the shire? Or at least banning them from nightriders.

Just an idea.

Girl. Part 3

It seemed like an eternity before I broke the silence.

“It’s kind of late, er, I mean early,” I said. “Would you like to stay here to sleep?”

She nodded slowly.

We stood up the same time and I led her to the lounge room so I could set up a temporary bed for me to sleep. I’d give her my bed. But all of a sudden she leaned in and tried to kiss me! I kissed her back. Some sort of energy passed between us. It was the kiss that had to happen. It felt good. Perfect even.

But then she kept going. She kissed me ever deeper and wrapped herself around me. She tried to take my shirt off.

I pulled back. I didn’t like where this was going. I was tired after the night’s activities and I was feeling sort of fat all day.

“But I thought…” she began. “I thought that we had something.” She looked up into my eyes, then down at the ground.

“We did.” I placed my hand on her shoulder. “I mean, we still do. It’s just… not tonight.”

“But why?”

“This is why”

I let my clothes fall to the ground.

“I’m so fat.”

“You’re not!”

“I am. Just go. Please.”

She's probably going to tell people I'm all fucked up and shit.

Public Service Announcement

In case you haven’t heard yet, tomorrow is National 'Be Tired At Work' Day.

No Comment

Comments are disabled for this post because I hate you.

5 Things That Go Through My Mind While Preparing For A WTOMH Live! Show

1. Does the venue comply with health and safety regulations?
2. Will they all hate me?
3. The plight of people in Somalia
4. Oh. Hi. Ummm.
5. Are there ample chips on my rider/shoulder?

WTOMH Live! Week

OMG Kidz. So many shows this week. In addition to working, I have to perform thricely, keep blogging AND entertain the world on Australia day. Sometimes it’s hard being me. Luckily I have multiple personalities to manage the workload.

Tuesday Night: Candy’s Apartment, Kings Cross w/ Edan
Wednesday Night: Metro Theatre, Sydney w/ Common
Friday Night: The Gaelic Club, Sydney w/ Sleater-Kinney

Come to all, one or none. BUT DON’T YOU DARE COME TO JUST TWO!

Girl. Part 2

The walk back to my house is only ten minutes normally. But since she had no idea where I lived I decided to take the scenic route. I’ve always found something hypnotic and romantic about deserted streets at night so I wanted to enjoy every possible minute. Along the way we acted stupid. Bumping into each other like the drunks we were. It was going smoothly until I playfully pushed her and she hit her head on a low-hanging tree branch that I didn’t see. She didn’t hit it hard but, you know, there was impact.

She looked up at me, holding her aching forehead with one hand, her face caught perfectly in the combination of streetlight and moonlight that reached us. “I’m sorry,” I said, before bending down and kissing the wound. Her skin tasted even better than it looked. She laughed, told me that it was okay, placed a hand on my back and led me down the road, periodically slowing to rub her sore head against my shoulder and let out a slight whimper.

By the time we got to my place it was around three am, but neither of us was the least bit tired. I put on a pot of coffee and we sat in the kitchen talking. We spoke for hours, even ignoring the sun’s rude intrusion. It was that kind of effortless exchange that only the very best old friends have. We jumped from topic to topic with the greatest of ease, relating on nearly everything, laughing at the inconsequential differences between us. And when the conversation got serious and we spoke from our heart, we held the others hand from across the wooden kitchen table, feeling every shake and tremble.

But eventually the alcohol and coffee wore off and our voices began to crack under the strain. We couldn’t go on talking forever. But we couldn’t just end this amazing roll we were on. We both stopped talking at exactly the same time, unsure how to deal with the inevitability of the situation.

Things I Know About Bevis

• Lives in Melbourne. Or possibly Florida.
• The only other nice guy in the world apart from me.
• Possibly bald or has a pony tail or both.
• The only person who blogs that I’d like to meet in the real world (well apart from Steph but that’s purely sexual)
• Wishes he was green.
• Possible singing star of the future.
• Penis so big it almost gets in the way.
• Tofu substitute is no substitute for the real thing.
• Rather masturbate than fuck with Vik Vaughn.
• Hiding something.

Girl. Part 1

Sometimes I just don’t understand women. Yes, it’s true. Let me tell you what happened this weekend that once again confused the heck out of me.

I met her at a bar on Saturday night. I’d gone to let my hair down a little and soak up the atmosphere. It’s one of my favourite bars because the music is agreeable and the couches plentiful. I saw her drinking alone and went over to ask if she wanted some company. No point in both of us drinking alone.

Her name was Wendy. Odd name for someone our age, I remarked. She agreed, mentioning that she hated it and her parents were Peter Pan crazy. I asked if that was an actual disorder. She said no. I asked her kindly not to fuck around with science anymore. She agreed.

Eventually we discovered we had a lot in common. I mean a LOT in common. We liked the same music, ate the same food, hated the same qualities in some people, loved the same authors and hated snakes with a passion. Not because they could bite us, but because we don’t trust them.

Wendy was stunningly beautiful. Dark brown hair fell effortless past her shoulders. Her skin looked like viscous cream that hadn’t left the deli fridge. And her eyes—those beautiful eyes—were huge green orbs of desire. And every item of clothing she wore accentuated these features. She wasn’t underdressed like everyone else in the bar. Just perfectly dressed to blend in and look amazing at the same time.

At closing time I asked if she’d like to come back to my place, which was nearby, to continue our chat. She agreed.

The Blog Awards: My Picks

Well I’ve spent the past week reviewing some of my competition. Now I get all selfless and name the best blogs in each (important) category. No politics, no emotions, no hidden agendas. I pawed through every blog that was nominated to bring you the only opinion that matters (an informed one!).

Ha. Changed my mind. Too much stuff nominated.

That Explains It

“Hey, mister, what’s wrong with your dog?”

“It’s a banana.”
"OMG YOU'RE EATING A DOG!"

Competing Blog Review: Much Ado about sumthin!

Much Ado about sumthin!
http://muchadoaboutsumthin.blogspot.com/

It’s hard to overstate the impact that Steph has had on the Australian blog scene since she started way back in September '05. You can’t see a list of links to blogs without seeing her blog there and you’ll be herd-pressed to find another blog that gets more comments.

How can this one girl who loves shoes, is sort of awkward and gets in plenty of odd-but-not-too-odd situations, be so special? My theory is that she comes across as the best female friend we all have. Slightly funny, pretty, smart-when-she-wants-to-be, etc. Steph is the everygirl.

She should be in the running for best new Australian blog. Easily. It’s not that there’s anything outstanding about her blog, it’s just comfortable and familiar. She should win some other categories too.

But if she wins best humorous blog I’ll be crazy pissed.

Competing Blog Review: thing’s i’ve written

things i’ve written
http://thingsivewritten.blogspot.com/

Okay, first impressions:

• We have the same name. Good (even though I don’t particularly care for the name).
• Picture of a pirate. Bad. Dislike pirates.

It appears the authors main source of humour is two ongoing sagas: the hypothetical fight club and 55 words. While I have been able to ascertain that many people like these posts due to their pleasing nature, I have no idea where the humour is.

How can he be up for best new Australian blog if he started in 2004? It’s like when Kid Rock was nominated for the best new artist award after having five albums out. I dunno eh.

Not bad though. Could win something, since he’s nominated for about 50 categories.

Competing Blog Review: Sterne

Sterne
http://sternezine.blogspot.com/

I admit it, I was worried when I read the first post there about Ringo Starr. That was pretty sweet. But from there it settled down a bit.

I’m starting to realise that most of these blogs are humorous in the traditional sense of the word. They may inspire the VERY ODD chuckle, but they aren’t outrightly hilarious. Maybe the category SHOULD have been most hilarious blog or something.

I dunno. It’s a decent blog. But as far as side-splitting laughs go, my sides were never in danger of being split in twain. Possible outclassed in the best new Australian blog category too, as I am.

Interview: Jobe

Jobe (J): So, how’s retirement treating you?

Jobe (J): Pretty fucken sweet to be honest. Thought I’d miss the blog but it’s good not having the pressure of writing all those entries every night.

J: So do you think I’m doing a good job replacing you?

J: Okay, I guess. It’s good to see you’re finding your own voice. Only time will tell if you can match my amazingness.

J: Would you say there are keys to success?

J: Oh absolutely. Why? Don’t you?

J: Yea, but I guess I didn’t think it would be so hard.

J: Well I warned you it wouldn’t be easy. Were you paying attention?

J: Some of the time. Are you mad?

J: Nah. Just disappointed.

J: Any words of advice for me to be successful?

J: Remember your training and keep doing those work post(it)’s. Too freakin’ sweet.

Joliphobic

I’m kind of scared that Angelina Jolie will have my baby. She seems the type to have your baby without asking.

Just don’t trust her is all.