Four People With The Initials ‘T.S’

• Tom Seleck
• Tom Sawyer
• The Smiths
• Tracy Spicer

A Side: Search Update / B Side: Scath’d

Good news! The lost new place to live for Jobe has been found in a little street in Camperdown. Not originally where I thought it would be but I suppose they were trying to hide it from me.

But there are problems. Oh so many fucking problems.

• What was with all the other people who found the new place to live at exactly the same time? Were they all there just buying it for me as a surprise gift?
• How do I steal it from the landlord without the required rent receipts and phone/power bills in my name since I did not have an old place for Jobe to live in?
• Will that liquorice go to my thighs?
• Where the fuck can I get some references from?
• If only the property manager was a hotbabe so I could charm her pants off/house keys away.

Fuck this whole thing. This search is annoying as fuck/I don’t want to play this game anymore/YOU CANNOT LEAVE THE GAME.

Search Update

It appears that I finally have some solid leads on where I can locate my missing lost new place to live. I’m going out on Saturday to inspect these leads to see if the investigation gets away. I am confident that my new source is on point and this will cause me to finally find my lost new place to live.

Once I find it, will I still come here and talk to you guys? Probably not. I’ll be busy and shit (with post-case paperwork<--holy shit I did not become a detective for that shit).

Wish me luck, or get worried that I’ll leave you and put a pox on my quest. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll slay your dragon of ill confidence.

Frequently Asked Question

“Hey, Jobe, what would you say to a guy like me, trying to pick up a hotbabe that is out of my league?”

I’d probably say, “go for it”, but say it in a way that means you wouldn’t come back to me and bitch when she inevitability denies you.

Learn to live with rejection. It is your friend. I’m a shining example of where it can NAY, WILL, get you.

Happy Blue Ball Thursday!

Saturday Night (At The Club (of Life/Music))

So last Saturday night this hotbabe asks me to go to a club. She was handing out fliers on the street and said she recognised me as THAT underappreciated blogger-type dude. Said she’d put me on the door. I said how? I’m pretty heavy. She laughed (LOLed?) and told me just to rock up and it’d all be sweet since she’d be on the door. Pretty informal.

So I take my better half (the top) to the club on Saturday as required and the girl from the other day was on the door, as promised. She smiles when she sees me and says I can get in for free. She tries to make small talk with me but I really just want to get in and get totally maggoted.

So I stroll through as she yells “I’ll catch up with you later” somewhere behind me. Straight away I notice the plethorii of sucker DJs in the place that night. Place was like a fucken rehearsal space for sucker DJs. Still, I was determined to have a good night.

Later in the night I was chilling around, spreading my good vibes by standing against a pole with a vodka in one hand, when the chick from before came up. She wanted to have a full in depth convo but I wasn’t having it. I was pretty over her so I gave really short answers. Still she kept going, bitch was totally going 90210 on my arse.

Eventually I got sick of it. I handed her my empty glass and fucked right off. I hope she took the message. Probably just kept the glass as a memento or some shit. IT’S ALL BACKWARDS.

Quick Post

This is a quick post to let you know that I’d probably post more tonight if there wasn’t a movie about transsexuals on really soon.

Commissioned a Small Film

Today I was walking the street provocatively (def; in a provocative fashion), when I was approached by someone that appeared to be a heroin addict who proceeded (preceded?) to commission a short film from me.

I’m pretty excited about it and I think I’ll do a good job.

Dear Jobe, I'm Going {{Crazy With Concern}}

Listen. I know you’re worried about me since I’ve been sick for so long and it’s beginning to affect my blog posting. But I’ve got good news:

Don’t Even Worry! I’ve started a course of vitamin C. A WHOLE course too, nothing less.

Places I Need Heaters

Pretty Reasonable:
- Bedroom
- Bathroom
- Igloo
- Out AND about

Asking A Lot (but necessary):
- On my hands
- Melbourne (in case I go there)
- City at night
- In a Big Mac

“Coming Out”

Last night at dinner I did that shit thing with my hands to indicate inverted commas a few times. Seriously gay. I don’t know WHY I did it. I just did. Now I have to live with the consequences of my (ridiculous) actions.

If only I could attribute it to spasms/exhaustion.

1301 is the Loneliest Number of All

Totally didn't realise I went past 1300 posts. Give a fuck about a landmark?

Probably not. Unless it's Uluru.

Stories From a Sexy Weekend: Part 1: Too Many ‘:’ Things/ She Squirted

So for most of the weekend the girlfriend and I (I don’t mention her because I don’t want to spoil the illusion for girls who want me, and I don’t want her privacy violated like you all violate mine “Oh, I’ll just send him and email to see how he is. He’d like that.”) took a trip to the mountains for a romantic/sexy getaway.

Things were going pretty well. We were “frolicking” on the bed, just fooling around (like kids in love do?) when all of a sudden the girl just squirted all over the bed. I mean, yeah, we were getting into it and I can make her squirt pretty good, but she should have controlled herself.

Why, you ask?

Because there was a fucking electric blanket on the bed! Would could have been fucking killed (what a way to go?). Still, I guess it was my fault for suggesting we play with water pistols on the bed.

Stories From a Sexy Weekend: Part 2: I Accept The ‘:’ Things Now/ Never Banal When Anal

So later in the evening, after we cleaned up the mess from the water pistol fight, things were getting pretty hot and heavy. Mostly thanks to the electric blanket being turned up to its highest setting and the very thick doona on the bed. The crazy sex we were having at the time didn’t hurt either.

So we’d pretty much fucked around the whole house and tried every position and form of foreplay. But I was still a little unfulfilled. I knew this was the time to bring up a very touchy subject…anal sex. See, I wanted it and she was the one who had the decision to permit or deny.

After I asked her she was a little shocked. She sat back and was quiet for a minute. The silence was deafening. Eventually she spoke up.

“I’ll let you fuck me in the arse,” [wooo fuck yes!], she began [wait? BEGAN? JOBE WHAT IS TO BECOME OF THIS STORY?]. “I’ll let you fuck me in the arse if [not an ‘if’!] I can fuck YOU in the arse first, with a strap-on.”

I was pretty fucking shocked at her diabolicalability.

No fucking way am I telling you what happened next. Needless to say things between us are a bit different since the weekend.

Vote To Evict The Mole/ Save Her From The Mole

Whatever the fuck it is on this chick's face... it's been growing at an alarming rate while on TV. Look at it before she went into the house (B.C.)

Managable.

But the "house environment" seems to be ideal for the thing as it has been thriving like nothing else. Look at it just before the mole got evicted:

Threat To World. Call Smallville!

I'm glad it's gone...

Hot To Trot

Lately I’ve been embroiled in so many scandals. It’s just crazy! In an effort to develop a coping mechanism against the media frenzy I consulted with a lot of celebrities and important VIPs. Check out what advise they gave me:

“Don’t let the praise go to your head and don’t let the criticism get to you.”
Tracy Spicer

“Stay grounded and stay true (to yourself).”
50 Cent

“Wipe from front to back to avoid a nasty vaginal infection.”
Ziggy Stardust

“Fuck off. I don’t even like you. You creep me out. Stay the hell away. Just because you're famous now it doesn't mean anything has changed between us.”
Lead singer from The Grates

Pretty good all round (5 stars out of 7). I’m managing all this fucking embroilment a hell of a lot better (with a level head).

What's This On My Hand?

Is it a whisk?