Public Service Announcement

"I like a guy that's man enough to wear pink."

LOOK OUT HE IS NOT A GUY {{HE IS A BEAR}}!!!



But it gets worse! You think he can still love you? WRONG! He is only in it for sex.

HE EVEN HAS CONDONES BEASTIALITY:

"Just kiss her, emu. Cammaaaaaan. Have some fun!"

HOLY CRAP!

Surely it cannot get any more morally wrong than animal group sex?

IT CAN!

NO!

DON'T TELL ME HE...


OMG IT'S TRUE HE EVEN HAS SEX WITH CHILDREN!


"Yes, this is the bank. I can confirm that Mr. Rum Bear is ethically bankrupt!

FW: Friendship!!! (Sweet! Read This!!!)

Hi!!!!

I just wanted to let you know that I value you as a friend!!!!

I love you!!!!

The Subtle Art of Seduction

I reckon if I was a great limboer I would get so many chicks I wouldn’t know what to do with them (ummm have sex with them?).

I’d go up to them and limbo between the legs and out the other side. They’d be impressed and I’d get a glimpse of panty city.

Then I’d be in.

Plus, when things didn’t work out I could get over the girl by limboing under another girl.

School Yard Conspiracy

I remember in high school, all the girls would talk of this extra free period that they got each month.

Why didn’t guys deserve an extra free period a month?

It’s like reverse sexism and I don’t like it one bit.

Tissue Issue

So I was out and about last night, wandering through the city, when all of a sudden my nose started running due to the cold. Don’t you hate it when that happens, LOL.

Anyway, I didn’t have any tissues on me and all the stores were closed at that time. Naturally, I started to cry at the hopelessness of the situation, which was probably the worst thing I could have done, since it only made my nose run more.

But then this guy in a trenchcoat comes out of the shadows and says that I can use his tissue.

I was cheering!

So I happily use his tissue, thank the kind stranger and begin walking off. But as I walk off I hear him laughing. It was a horrible laugh. Gravelly.

I ask him what’s so funny.

“You,” he said. “You just blew your nose on my tissue.”

“Yea.”

“It was my ERECTILE tissue, LOL.”

Shit!

Dear The Fiery Furnaces

Hi.

I don’t really know how to structure these sort of letters so I’m just going to write and hope that the words are appropriate.

I don’t want to see you anymore.

For a long time I did. I’d look forward to seeing you and if I missed you for one day I would feel terrible for weeks. And I don’t look back upon those times with any regret. I loved you then. But things have changed-you’ve changed-and I just don’t want to see you as much.

You wanted to see me in a few weeks but I just don’t think I should come. For now, I don’t think we should see anything of each other.

I don’t want to say it was the backwards singing that did it, but… yea…

I’ll still love you, always,
Jobe

Shitty Question

The “out” doors?

Is that a euphemism for anal sex?

The Guide

Do you think if TV guides began and ended at midnight, instead of 6am, we wouldn’t say that a show on at 1am on Monday morning is on Sunday night, like we do now?

Or do you think it has more to do with the hours we are awake?

*scratches chin*

Don’t You Forget About Me

Guys. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my lack of attention to your ‘needs’, lately. The boss at work is really coming down on my to finish the Simons’ account and this work cup dealeo is just taking up so much of my time.

But, hey, don’t look glum. Last week I watched a DVD so not all hope is lost. Maybe one day we will be back to the glory-blogging days of old where we would have the days of a dozen posts and we would all stand around and reminisce of the good times (that day).

Did you know that the murder rate is down? I did. You have to ask yourself, do you want Jobe to blog or lots of murders (going down)?

Apply Gauze… Slooooowly

So I got a Google referral for someone searching for “my child got splinters in hand”.

Am I the only one picturing a scene where a kid is in tears, close to shock, clutching his/her hand, screaming “DOOOO SOMETHING, MUMMYYYYYY”?

“Hold on! I’m googling it! Ooooo a story about hotbabes. Juicy.”

Hate Is A Four-Letter Word

I hate George Bush so much I can’t listen to Kate Bush’s music anymore.

World Cup Fever

So I think I’ve come down with a pretty bad case of World Cup Fever.

But I was so careful…

I didn’t stay up late to watch the matches, I didn’t support my country and I didn’t dare utter the “word” ‘Soccerroo’.

Oh man this is bad. This is really bad. No girl will have sex with me ever again.

Rap Attack

From now on, every rap I write will include references to speed boats, jet skis and/or pleasure craft.

A Question

Why are they called eyeLASHES?

The Obvious Response

“The girl on the left is checking out our steez.”

“What the fuck is a steez???????????????”

I should only hang out with rappers…

Hard Times

I try to avoid getting an erection in the shower because it just creates extra skin for me to clean.

But, yea, it's pretty difficult because my fetish is having a flaccid penis.

Have You Heard? UPDATE

So things at work had been really strained with the girl after last weekend's effort. Every moment that we weren’t being watched she would mention the other night to me. She would send me countless emails, describing, in great detail, what she wanted to do to me.

I always try to please everyone, but this time I just had to say something. I told her that I lied to her before and I don’t respect her one bit. I even said that I thought she was a pathetic whore.

You’d think this would be enough. But no.

She said that I was just in denial. That I was scared of falling for her.

Humph.

I kept up my cold shoulder all day, but she just went around on top of the world, like she was in love or something. Take a hint bitch?

But then I remembered! She said that she’d believe anything I said on the phone. That was how I got into that mess in the first place! So I called her extension, despite the fact she sits opposite me, and said that I had used her and I neither love nor respect her.

She went home “sick”.

Awesome.

I Told You So

Maaaan lately I’ve been doing pretty much everything for Johnny Warren.

Check out what I’ve done for Johnny Warren today:

• Went to store (for bread)
• Had lunch
• Walked to the station instead of driving
• Drank apple juice
• All my homework
• Chilled

He’d be looking down, happy.

Hypochondriac Snack

Look, I’m not a hypochondriac or anything. I just have a mild case of just about every disease I’ve ever heard of. Except hypochondria.

Like Back In High School / Sodomy

So I ended up in prison today after a hilarious series of accidents and mistaken identities (don’t ask, LOL). Did you know that in prison they do this thing with the new people (they call them “fish”) where they line them up and the more senior inmates take turns in picking one to take back to their cell and sodomise.

I didn’t get picked. Which was good, because my understanding of sodomy is that it hurts, even if you do it right. But at the same time I was pretty sad because no one wants to feel left out. I’m really self-conscious and I started wondering what was wrong with me. I really would have liked the validation that came from being breached by a senior inmate.

*sigh*

Oh well.

Go(ne) To Hell?

There used to be a few other regular commenters on this blog—not too many, since this blog is pretty small—but now they’re gone.

Where did they go?

Was visiting my blog only a short-lived fad in their eyes?

A Hip Hop Suggestion

“Ima use self control instead of birth control.”

Common, if it is that big of a concern to you, why don’t you use a combination of both self control AND birth control?

I don’t think that this is an either/or situation.

I Shit You Not

Bitch walks like a carpet eater.

What’s In A Name?

Punchbowl is a really shit name for a suburb. It’s like someone got high at the naming party and was all, “hey…. Got a…. great idea… Dude! Let’s. Let’s… name the suburb…. ‘Punch’…. NO NO NO NO…. ‘PunchBOWL’”

Fucking stoners.

Fully Sick, You Leh

Can an impotent, but difficult, maths equation claim to be “hard” in front of his wannabe gangsta friends with their WRXs and baggy pants?

Dying Wish

Relax, guys. I’m not dying (yet?). I just like to be prepared for every variable.

I think that when I die it would be nice if my body was cut into about 10 different pieces and each piece was given to a different country. Naturally, the better pieces (head, right index finger, buttocks) will go to my favourite countries, while the lesser countries—your Irelands, Senegals, Chads, Thailands and Ecuadors—can pretty much fight over the left over parts.

The Road To Raw

So I was checking out the official judging criteria for Raw Comedy tonight and I have to say that I’m a bit worried. Check out their criterion:

Material
Things to consider: Originality of material, subject matter, was it clever and interesting, were they new ideas. Was the material well-written & well thought out?

Pretty fucking obvious that I will dominate this category. My material is better than silk and cotton and wool COMBINED. 10/10 for this section.

Performance/Delivery
Things to consider: Original style, vocal (mic) technique, was their personal appearance and presentation appropriate to their performance? Were they comfortable with performing, timing, pace, manner, did their ideas come across clearly?

Hmmm okay. Bit of a grey area, really. Original style: check. Appearance and presentation appropriate to the performance? Hmmm I was just thinking of wearing jeans and a shirt. Maybe I should wear a hat. What sort of clothes does my comedy feel like? Comfortable with performing? Holy crap, I’m a nervous sort of dude and I can mumble at times. That’s a worry. 6/10.

Audience response
Things to consider: Did they get a good response, did they deserve it, how did they handle response or lack of it, did the audience like them?

The audience will either love me or hate me. I will divide people. The guys will love me because I’m a man’s man, but the girls will dislike me because they do not want to fall for me. The sluts will like it. 7/10

But that’s not all!

Deal-breakers: what’s absolutely not on
• Material that is racist, sexist, homophobic or otherwise seriously offends the sensibilities of the audience. You know.

Now hold on! Offensive material is good! I was thinking of opening with that joke about molesting babies, then following it up with a joke about rape. IT’S COMEDY RELAX! CALM DOWN, judges. IT’S OKAY! 1/10 (it’s not okay)

Dyeing Wish

My dyeing wish is that my t-shirt comes out looking fucking great (with colours).

Sell Out

So today I notice that a few referrals come from a post on a forum. Fair enough, this blog is so funny you just want to share it round. But the dude mentions that my blog is.. wait for this fucking bombshell… “commercial”.

Commercial?

Holy shit since when is my attitude on this blog to be commercial? Am I a sell out?

Man, this dude tries to be nice by sharing around my blog but I’m just left with a massive bout of self-doubt after his comments. I just write shit down. Is it my fault the fucking masses love it? <--rhetorical question: It cannot be.

Death Threats

Holy crap!

I got so many death threats in the mail today it was ridiculous. It’s like the most mail I’ve ever gotten in one day. Awesome!

I mean… it sucks that it’s all people wanting to cause harm to me. But it’s good to be noticed.

Since the letters are all anonymous I like to pretend that it’s celebrities mailing them to me.

Class Warrior

So last night I called up my local pimp in search of a high class prostitute. I can’t stand those cheap pros. Filthy.

Anyway, half an hour later I hear a knock at the door. It’s the secret knock so I know my ho has arrived.

I open the door, only to discover, to my horror, that this prostitute is no high-class hooker. She would probably only be described as middle-to-upper-class.

I hate it when this happens!

When I refused to be with her, she got all pissed like a kid who gets a cookie taken off them (“But Shiloh, you’re diabetic!”). But anger is just another sign that she was of a less class. Very uncouth.

Witch Ya Talkin' Bout?

I’m pretty goddam suspicious of two things in this life:

• Skeletons
• Witches

Did you know that witches and witch-related activities, such as swimming while drunk, killed more than one thousand people last year in Australia alone? Pretty alarming statistics.

Witchings: FACT!

But a lot of people are ignorant to the existence of witches and their way of life. Like the other day it was about 2.50pm, awfully close to 3pm, the witching hour. Concerned, I announced, “hmmmm. Almost time for the witch hour,” to a co-worker.

He looked confused, then looked at his watch and said, “almost 3.”

He thought I was asking him which hour it was. THE FUCK? It doesn’t make sense! Who goes around asking people the time by saying, “almost time for which hour?”

Probably no one or someone who has great difficult communicating.

W... Wombat...? Womb at...?

@

OR

The Road To Raw

Listening to the Triple J podcasts of the heats and finals of this year’s Raw Comedy, I noticed that most of the “comedians” had different sets for the heats and the final.

I’m wondering if this is a requirement or just the trend. Because I can out-comedy anyone, but my memory can be a little hazy at times. Remembering ONE five-minute set should be fine. But remembering a five-minute set for the heats, the semis, the state final and the national final will be quite a lot. Having to develop twenty minutes of comedy is time-consuming too. I’m a lazy bugger, really.

The Road To Raw

I had a person arrive to the site earlier after searching Google for “Raw Comedy 2007”.

It looks like the people are getting excited. Soon they’ll be arriving here after searching for “Raw Comedy 2007 Winner”.

INTERVIEW: Blow-Up Doll

Jobe: Hey, what's goin' down?

Blow-Up Doll: Not much. Sick of being treated like an object.

Blow-Up Doll: Sick of being treated like an object

Jobe: Thanks for your time.

Blow-Up Doll: That was quick. My pleasure though.

Wow! Wait…

So I was making some delicious and ethnic Greek lamb wraps for dinner when I stumbled upon something odd. I thought I would share it with you.

So I spread some hummus onto my wraps and notice that it was a light or “skinny” version of hummus. Fair enough. But then I notice that one of the main selling points is that this type of hummus has “80% Less Fat Than Butter or Margarine”.

Since when is hummus an acceptable substitute for butter and margarine?

“Wait! Don’t make that bread and butter pudding! Do you have ANY idea how much fat is in butter? Use hummus!”

Corsets

From Fat to Phat

JUST LIKE THAT!

Have You Heard?

So I’m chillin at work the other day when this hotbabe is all “you’ve got a great phone voice. I’ve been listening to you.” Yea no shit hey, try telling me something I DONT know (“Jobe, you’re not handsome, LOL. JK U R”).

Anyway, the point is that another of the hotbabes in the office caught onto this conversation and said that I have a genuine voice and that she would believe me if I lied to her on the phone. I called her extension and told her I would respect her in the morning.

Long story short, she found out the truth in the morning yesterday, when I told her to fuck off to wherever she came from (work?) and rolled over.

Argh! Stupid women! I just hate them so much. Why do they always pick the arseholes and not a nice guy like me? I'm so lonely.

Great News From The Front

Remember Ruffles chips? Those glorious potato-infused treats that we used to purchase in our younger years, around the age of ten for me, before we went down the park and practised oral sex?

Man they were AWESOME! The perfect potato chip.

But then they disappeared. For the last 10 or so years I wondered where they had gone but I got no answers. It was like the X-Files, but not as geeky (still a little geeky though).

Well today I got a massive breakthrough in the case. The extra hours I’ve been putting in lately really paid off. Why?

RUFFLES CHIPS ARE BACK ON THE SHELVES!

Thassssright

Le Tour De France

How come people in Australia refer to ‘Le Tour De France’ as ‘The Tour De France’?

They decide to translate ‘Le’ into ‘The’, but ‘De’ has not made it to ‘Of’. Did they get bored half way through or something?

Is someone trying to create a quasi-Franco-Anglo world?

I don’t like this one bit. No.