{{Warning}}

“This medication may cause drowsiness”

Hell yes! Bring it the fuck ON!

A Storms A Brewin’

Last night I had 3 of my recurring dreams back to back. One recurring dream is rare enough, three is trouble.

Straight after those three dreams I dreamt about Auby’s blog (wtf?).

Something profound is going to happen soon.

3 Things Girls Don’t Like To Reminisce About:

• “Hey, remember that time I came on your face and you got cum in your eye and it stung like hell and you cried for ages?”
• “Tell me again about that last boyfriend you had you could make you come and treated you well but then got hit by my car.”
• “So what happened when you found out that you were allergic to being happy with me?”

Disney's 'Dancing With The Devil'

Coming to cinemas in April, Disney’s new romantic comedy “Dancing With The Devil” sees The Devil (played by Satan) facing his toughest challenge yet! Can he learn to dance before the big prom so he can impress the most popular girl at school (Hillary Duff) who only talks to guys with outstanding dance-floor skills?

May I have this dance?










Okay, LOL

The Ultimate Snack(rifice)

A roast beef sandwich made from beef you roasted yourself from the cow that you raised from birth, lettuce and tomatoes you planted and grew, freshly made mayonnaise made from eggs you got from your own chickens and bread made from wheat you grew yourself is inconvenient.

I’d rather 2 minute noodles. Or, in a pinch, a handful of dried oregano.

Learn and Grow

Today I was driving my mum home from the station (OMG I’m a great son) when something odd happened.

I was driving through one of the main streets of Oatley (like there’s so many to chose from?) when I notice some young ladies standing between parked cars, almost spilling onto the street. Not a problem, my keen driving skills helped me to STAY COOL, NOT PANIC and slow the car and avoid them. But while I’m swerving to miss them, another girl comes out from between parked cars on the OTHER side of the road and looks like she’s going to cross right in front of me?

What?

So I keep driving, thinking she’ll back off. But she keeps getting closer. As I go past her my side mirror misses her by mere centimetres. I’m all “wtf?”.

My mum turns to me and says, “that’s one way to get a girlfriend.”

It is?

The best thing about my mum is that most mothers would lay some guilt trip on their kid if he wasn’t out there dating and/or making grandkids. But my mum is all about education, always providing helpful, practical hints on getting girlfriends that I can apply to real-world situations.

My Own Worst Enema

I’ve never had an enema and I’m not 100 per cent sure on what it entails, but I think I want to have one.

I guess I’d say it’s enema time ©

John Lennon is a Pussy

John Lennon is a pussy. I challenged him to a fight and have so far heard back nothing.

A real man would immediately accept such a challenge.

You see! This is why I want to fight John Lennon!

What Job Are You Losing?

I made a mistake today. A big mistake. I was still sick and was making little mistakes her and there. Minor ones really. But then I majorly fucked up.

A large part of my job is making small-talk with clients. Our clients are people working for big companies who expect a certain level of professionalism. While I’m talking to them I’m usually forced to make small-talk to break the silence. Usually this will take the form of something like “so, busy today?” or “how’s business been lately?” You know, professional.

Today I was sort of drowsy from my flu and drifting in and out of consciousness. A client had called wanting to know something about their account. I was having a look for her when I blurted out something I shouldn’t have to make small talk.

So there I was, on the phone to Agnus from a large, unnamed religious school in Melbourne, looking through her account, when I casually asked, “so, what are you wearing?”

I froze. Why did I just say that?

“Excuse me?” she asked, shocked.

I panicked. Silence on the phone for what felt like minutes.

“Okay I’ve found the information you were looking for.”

And we never spoke of it again.

This lady calls up nearly every day. If she calls up next time and gets someone else in the team I’m so afraid she’ll tell them what happened. I might not go into work tomorrow to be safe.

Thorpey says “It’s a Fully Sick Theory”

Okay, so I had a sort of idea (Whoa! Jobe! Slow down!). Check this out (A little slower!):

Fact
Chicks dig guys in uniforms, but they hate guys who wear Star Trek uniforms.

Theory
There is a way that guys in Star Trek uniforms can get crazy pussy.

Explanation
Okay, so what if they go to a place where there is no concept of Star Trek and pretend to be astronauts or some shit? The girls will be suspicious so they will ask loads of questions (omg showing interest!) but the average Star Trek fan knows everything there is. They know the language of the people they fought, the names of planets, places on the ship, etc. They know EVERYTHING. The girls will totally accept that they are astronauts and give up hell pussy.

A Professional Protest

I’m sure you’re all aware of those protests against fur where activists splashed people wearing fur with fake blood.

Don’t you think REAL blood would make more of an impact? I’m not saying they should kill a HUMAN (although it would make a statement if that human supported fur), but certainly some real blood—perhaps from a small animal/aborted child—would have fur wearers thinking twice.

Much Ado about poems

Steph is gone, I need to learn to live with it. The marriage was tumultuous at best. But that was always the way I loved it. I thought that’s the way she loved it too. I was wrong.

Today I was full of sadness so I wrote a poem about the situation and I’ll now share it with you.


The Tearful Tree Talks

Today the plant spoke to me in a broken sentence
It was our plant, we bought it together and helped it grow
It caught every conversation hiding at the entrance
Hiding in its alcove abode it watched you go

Today the plant said it was beginning to miss you
Memories of a leaf pressed firm against the wall
That time I stopped you leaving and had to kiss you
It told me it didn’t hurt. Not a little bit at all

Today the plant missed the sound of your approaching heels
The bright noise radiated throughout the house; a comforting sound
The stumble after drinking vodka and everything it revealed
It misses the little things about you; I miss having you around


It is but one tree in the forest of sadness I am currently lost in.

In The Doghouse

Looks like my lovely wife (secret) Steph has gotten her panties in a bunch over something or other again, so I’ve been sent to the dog house for the night. At first I was a little worried because the dog house has a pretty bad reputation. But now that I’m there I can see that my preconceptions were so totally wrong. It must all be marketing hype because the dog house is GREAT!

Seriously, guys. Check out what the dog house has:

• Open plan living (so hot right now!)
• Sydney’s best house music DJs on the decks every Saturday night
• No Paris Hilton!
• Cheap drinks before 10
• More disco balls than proven cases of disco fever
• Moderate drug use
• Free blankets

Even if Steph doesn’t take me back I won’t be worried. I’ll attract mega-babes with a place like that and the only thing she has to keep her company at night in the house will be the knowledge that she’s an uncaring bitch who is afraid of commitment.

Tips For A Great Gantt Chart!

1. Make your Gantt chart easy to read.
2. Keep your Gantt chart concise!
3. Give a copy of your Gantt chart to each team member and review Gantt chart responsibilities.
4. Harder! Yes! FUCK ME!
5. Update the Gantt chart periodically to reflect any changes.
6. Share your Gantt chart with others
   

You’re Pretty Sick, Jobe!

Everyone always comes to the blog and their first comment is to say that I’m pretty sick.

Well today their predictions came true. I’ve been forced to take my first ever sick day off work to recover.

I hope you’re all happy. YOU DID THIS!

Putting the ‘Fun’ and ‘Performance Review’ in ‘Funeral’

Okay guys, thanks for coming to my funeral today. I’m sorry for distressing you all and making you think I was really dead. But you have to understand, I needed your responses to be genuine so I could accurately evaluate your performance.

Anyway, I know you’re eager so here’s the results:

Adam: Where was he? Didn’t see him there. Probably at someone else’s funeral. F
Ang: Wasn’t sure if her attitude was due to boredom or difficulty coping with grief. C+
Auburn: The tears during the service were a nice touch. The flirting with other guys outside the church was a little disappointing. C
Bevis: Did well to comfort all of the grieving people. Top bloke, quality grieving in a strong sort of way. A+
Black Wind, etc, etc: Presence was hardly noticed. E
Citizen Erased: First to arrive. Left too early though. C-
PMS: Sporadic attendance. Good grieving though. B
Rach: The only one to pick that some of the songs were shit and I wouldn’t want them played at my funeral. A-
Sahara: Touching eulogy and PowerPoint presentation. Letter in the coffin was nice. A
Sam: Grieved hard, grieved often. A true funeral attending champion. Award for most sad to see me leave. A
Steph: Brought an entourage with her. Good grieving. Too wishy-washy though. One minute she was crying, the next she was happy. Makes no sense. B-
Sub-Ate: Showed up a little late. Too much poking of the corpse during open casket. D-

Well done guys. These performance reviews help us prepare for the real thing. Take the reviews on board and keep at it!

What's This On My Hand?

Future Newspaper Headline: "Jobe to become one with the skeletons"

OMG Truth Serum

When I have cyber sex I tell the other party I weight 5 kilos less than what I really do.

OMG Truth Serum

Just Kidding

Today I ran over my kid in the driveway.

And that’s SO much better than running over someone else’s kid.

5 Things I’m Not:

• An undercover lifeguard (“Jobe, you’re in too deep. I saw you applying zinc in the showers last week! You’ve become one of them!”).
• Jaded magician.
• In love with that indie chick with the ghostbusters shirt
• Born to ruuuuuuuun
• Good at singing Bruce Springsteen.

Frequently Asked Question

“Jobe, how to you eat so much yet maintain a slim figure?”

HUGS FROM EDWARD SCISSORHANDS, MY FRIEND AROUND THE CORNER!

Shit Cake

“You are a shit cake! What are you?”

“A shit cake?”

“Yes! You’re fucking awful and give a bad name to cakes.”

“I’m sorry…”

“’I’m sorry’ won’t cut it, faggot!”

The Hotbabe in the Hospital

Reading Steph’s post yesterday about her hospital adventure, I couldn’t help but recall the time I went to the hospital and found both the cure to my disease and love. Now I’d like to share it with you all.

I’d rushed myself to the hospital at 2am one evening after complaining of chest pains. My friends were getting sick of my complaining and told me that I either go to the hospital or shut up. I decided to go to the hospital.

I’d been waiting for roughly half an hour when two girls burst in, one carrying the other. The carrier told the nurses that her friend had just passed out while in the car and won’t wake up. The nurses took the friend off to be looked at immediately and the carrier came down to sit in the waiting room. She sat opposite me. I checked her out a bit. Even under the harsh hospital lights she looked like an angel. A sexy angel.

Two hours later and we were still sitting there. One of the nurses came out and went up to the girl and told her that her friend hadn’t regained consciousness and passed away. I expected her to become all emotion and shit (ie typical girl) but instead she just said, “oh well, she was a bit of a bitch anyway.”

And with that my interest was sparked. “She was a ‘bitch’? Do you like rap or something?”
“Of course. I love it.”
“Wow! Me too! Want to come back to my place to listen to rap?”
“Okay. But only if we can drink and fornicate at the same time. Just sitting and listening is kid of boring, you know?”
“I know what you mean!”

She turned out to be a bitch herself (ie typical hip hop chick), but it was still fun for a while.

I Choose You, Jobe!

I think I want to become an artist so I can evolve as an artist.

Simon Says Stand Still

So on the weekend I acquired the ability to make time stand still from some guy on the street that was wearing no shirt. He had a lot of stuff for sale. At first he’s all “want some pills or weed?” and I’m like “nah” so he goes “how about a mobile, bro?” and I’m all “nah. But I’ve been looking for the ability to make time stand still for a while” and he’s all “no worries bro, $20” and I’m all “I’ve only got a fifty. You got change for that?” and he’s all “sure thing, buddy. Fifty bucks” so I give him fifty bucks and he gives me back two twenties and a ten and I give him one of the twenties for the ability to make time stand still.

I haven’t used it because I’m still drawing up profit and loss analyses and shit so I don’t completely tear the time/space fabric a new one. I’ll keep ya’ll updated with my time-standing-still adventures. Any suggestions as to how I can exploit this situation would be totally appreciated/ignored.

Just Imagine… The House of the Future

Who really gives a damn about 3D TV? I know I certainly don’t and my opinion is all that matters to you.

The future is all about… 3D SOUND!

Can you imagine that? Sound that is all around you. Like it, I dunno, surrounds you.

It would be unbelievable. Probably just an impossible pipe dream. But still… I can dream.

Fetish Properties

I’m pretty sure I have a fetish for being flaccid. Whenever I’m having sex and I think about being flaccid I go hard.

It’s pretty odd.

Time To Share

Well it was my new years resolution to become the world’s ugliest dog. Since I made the resolution I’ve been so fucking determined to make it happen. I mean, my other resolutions like put on weight and give up smoking (after taking it up) were all achieved pretty easily. But this time it feels so important.

Things I’ve done to achieve my dream of becoming the world’s ugliest dog:

• Smoke loads of cones and listen to the John Butler Trio
• Jump through windows and burn myself so I scar up pretty bad
• Hang around really beautiful dogs so I look uglier by comparison
• Combine equal parts balsamic, oil and lemon for a simple, tangy salad dressing
• Lick my balls in public
• Wear my collars DOWN
• Cheat on my girlfriends and call them fat (ugly on the inside too)
• Take up debating so I can convince people I am very ugly (I rebut you!)

It’s a lot harder than I thought. I’m on my way, but it’s just taking so long. I never thought that trying to be the world’s ugliest dog would be so hard.

Are You Sure You Want To Delete This Post?

Rule #1 of having a secret blog
Under no circumstances should you make the mistake of posting one of the secret blog posts on your normal, funny blog where emotions are taboo. To avoid doing this you should not go near a computer when unhappy, tired and drunk.

Rule #2 of having a secret blog
If you DO fuck up and post an emo rant on the happy blog, then you should never let this post linger. DO take a shit at 5am, 3 hours after you posted it, and remember that you forgot to log out of Jobe and log into the other site before you posted.

Rule #3 of having a secret blog
If you do fuck up and make a post on the wrong blog, ensure you look at your stats to see if anyone saw this post while it was up. If 2 people saw it, you must kill them.

Follow these rules and you'll be fine!