Look At My Hilarious T-Shirt

Hey! Look at my hilarious t-shirt!

Can you see the logo and the punchline? Pretty hilarious, no? You aren’t laughing. Do you need me to explain it? You see it’s a combination of wordplay and absurdity. Which, some say, is exactly like me. It’s pretty great being able to show off your personality in shirt form. I mean, girls must love it because they can see that I’m a funny guy without having to spend time getting to know me. Other guys love it too, because they know I’m the sort of guy to joke around with them, keep them entertained and also raise the possibility of getting them some pussy by association.

Where did I get it? Of I got it from America. On the internet. They don’t sell this sort of stuff in stores!

So you want to go grab a drink or something?

A Call To Arms (For Friends)

Hey!

I'm about to sign up for a dating site. If you have a picture of me that is blurry, from my year 12 formal, shows me holding my baby child or making out with my same-sex friend while drunk, please email them to me.

If you don't have any photos and want to chat with a guy with a great sense of humour, hot bod and nasty mind then also send me and email.

New Word Order

Okay, I’ve been doing some research (aka living my life) and I’ve made some interesting discoveries. They’re all in the paper that I submitted to the Californian Strategic Management Review, but I’ll summarise for you here too.

Women are sick of metrosexual blokes. Or, at least, they will as soon as the marketing dies down a bit. With the metrosexual the man was robbed of his masculinity in exchange for a red cloth and the opportunity to wear pink and not be beaten up by other males. Women will soon tire of this novely and a new type of man will be in demand. He is the caveman. The man who is fierce, strong and able to provide. He will take care of the woman when required but not smother her. He will dress simply and personal hygiene will no longer border on the extreme. His emotions will not be complicated and all will be out in the open.

Out of the “distressed” ashes of the metrosexual we will see a new creature emerge. He will be called…

The Troglosexual

Manly, strong, uncomplicated, rugged.

Played

OMGz a TRU stori on dis blog 4 unce.

So there’s this chick who sort of asked me out a couple of weeks ago. At first I said sure because all I knew about her was that she was sort of cute and, possibly, not scared of the dick.

Due to conflicting schedules we were unable to make any concrete plans initially. But during this time of non-dating (we still spoke briefly) I found out more of her and came to realise that I don’t particularly like her. Not that there’s anything particularly wrong with her, she’s just too particularly different for my liking (I’m a Selective Sarah, Choosey Suzie).

Today she sent me an email asking when we’re going to go out. I tell her to choose and day and I’ll lock it in (I make dreams come true). She chooses Saturday. I tell her that’s fine. I won’t be going anyway.

I spend the majority of the day thinking of how I can get out of the date and also make sure she doesn’t bring it up again.

I call her in the afternoon just before she goes home. The conversation goes thusly:
ME: “Hey!”
HER: “Oh, hey!”
ME: “How’s your day been?” <--softening the blow
HER: “Not bad. Glad it’s over.” Positivity?
ME: “Listen, I really hate to do this at such short notice, but can we move tomorrow night? This gorgeous girl I’ve had my eye on for months has finally let me take her out on a date but she’s only free for one night, sort of like a prison inmate who has been in gaol for most of his life then gets out but realises he can’t face the outside world so he goes and kills some dude then turns himself in the same day so he goes back to gaol.” Distraction.
HER: “Uh...”
ME: “I’m just so happy, (let’s call her…) Tina (because it’s her real name)! And I’m so lucky to have a friend like you who I can talk to about things like this.”
HER: “Oh… yea…”

Crisis over.

I swear to God the only way it could have been better is if I heard one of her workmates in the background say something like “night, Tina. Have fun on your hot date tomorrow night! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The Frozen Meat Curse

I want to share something with you. It’s not a toy and it’s not a disease. It’s a tidbit about me. And, to a lesser extent, it’s a toy.

You see, for my whole life I have carried a terrible curse (just let go, lol?). Whenever I tried a supermarket frozen meat product (sausage roll, pie, pizza) it always tastes great the first time I have it but the next time it tastes AWFUL and it rarely recovers.

I thought the curse had been broken this week when I tried one of those Herbert Adams King Island Beef pies. Ohhhhh it was a magical occasion. Delicious gravy and excellent meat which wasn’t in mince pieces.

Tonight I decided to have another one. I heated it up and eagerly waited. Then I dug in and found it tasted average and the meat was a bit tough.

How?

Bloody Hell

If you were wondering where the blood in my stool had gone (yea, where did that go, lol?) then worry no more. It’s come back home.

I hope we can all rest easy tonight.

I know I’ll rest easily on my blood and stool soaked sheets.

Aggressive Targets

I’m an aggressive salesman. <--just my nature, live with it. I think if I was one of those dudes at Myer selling fragrance I would just get up in everyone’s faces with a rag and totally force the fragrance up their passage.

They’d get pissed off and some people may get roughed up a bit, but if the fragrance is good then it will sell like crack to a guy trying to attract little boys who like crack.

Eating Out

Nooooo not about hotbabes. Calm down, this even about them. Calm down already.

So last night I went to dinner. Once again I ate quite a lot and it was probably more than everyone else. I am probably a glutton. Dudes are embarrassed to eat with me, but I think chicks dig it. They say it’s great to see a guy who doesn’t just eat salads and protein these days.

Party Over Here

You know how when you know someone who is really quiet and hot and sort of uptight, am I the only one that wants to see them get totally fucked up on a number of substances and just, you know, chill with them in our underwears, chatting.

And if they have some sort of reaction or take too much and they die it’s not my fault. No way man.

It’s not.

Firstdate Time

Today it struck me: there are a lot of big events just around the corner and I am complete dateless. I am sanshotbabe right now (not the font).

Just take a look at the shit coming up on my calendar:

• Birthday
• Christmas
• Raw Comedy 2007 (need to establish self as ‘Alpha comedian’ ie only one with girlfriend)
• Various equinoxes
• Business meetings

If I turn up dateless for any of those I’ll be the laughing stock of the scene. So it’s about time I got back to firstdating and hooked up with a hotbabe.

To impress at aforementioned gatherings, hotbabe will have to possess the following traits:

• Hot. Make guys feel unworthy of me and girls intrigued about what I do that’s so good that I’m able to pull a hot chick.
• Charming. For those family moments when a slut that talks about how we did heroin and fucked for days just won’t do.
• Sense of humour. So she laughs at all my shit and not at unfunny shit.
• Good tastes in shit. So I don’t have to put up with someone that doesn’t like the same things as me. Don’t want to waste time watching romantic comedies unless they star John Cusack.
• Smart. Can quiz me with trivia when I am in the trivia mood on Sundays.
• Able to make large quantities of jelly on demand. Nuff said.
• Able to freestyle rap in Australian/natural accent. So we can rap about what we see without sounding like fake American wannabes.
• Can blog. So I can read her blog and see what she thinks about me instead of just asking her because I’m too pussy.
• Average sized breasts. Because anything bigger than a handful and you’re risking a sprained tongue.
• Ability to get reference in above sentence.
• Likes sex in new places. Ie nostrils.
• After going fat, unable to go back. Namely me, not her weight, which will remain minimal. BMI of under 15 at all times, ideally.
• Dislikes receiving gifts. Prefers to tend to the garden.
• Finds my insanity cute and, possibly, adorable. But not other people's. Slut.
• Able to remember which pills to give me on which days.
• Wipes my arse after I shit. I’m not that fat but if Big Pun’s wife can do it for him then it’s good enough for me.

But I’m not picky. She can satisfy like 90% of those items and I’ll be happy. Not ecstatic, but happy.

A Tissue Issue

Whenever I buy tissues from a shop I always ask for condoms too, just so they don’t think I’m a hopeless wanker.

So, yea, if anyone wants condoms hit me up. I have a shitload and I’m not using them.

Wack Chick

What’s up with that Fuzz chick that hosts that godawful channel 10 show, Cybershack? Her eyes are crazy fucked, like she powders her eyeballs.

Although I’ve never seen her give a bad review to a product so I just may sleep with her so I can see what a chick looks like happy for once.

So, yea, few things to look at before responding to her bootie call.

Inconsiderate Folk

Make I’m really angry right now. My housemate won’t move his bowels. I can’t move freely around the house without them getting in the way.

The Road To Raw

I’m starting to get so desperate for comedy that I’m acting in porn. I hope it’ll be my big break. I just KNOW a big agent will see my spots and sign me up, seeing my potential.

Hot Plates

I’m thinking of getting some customised plates for my slick ride. At first I thought I’d just get ‘JOBE’ but it seems a bit of a waste since my admirers already know what can I drive and can see it coming from a mile away. It would also help identify my vehicle to potential punk kid unadmirers who wish to key the fuck out of my ride.

I think something plain like ‘HOTRIDE’ or ‘SWEETRIDE’ or ‘SIKWRX’ (don’t have WRX though) would be good since it would remind me that my car is good when I look at it. Sometimes I can forget (a lot of other beautiful things in my life).

Wide Awake, I Am Sleeping

I thought I knew everything. But this zipperless fuck is an alien concept to me.

I mean… who fucks with a zipper?

I'm hoping Steph or someone knows. She's a whore gorgeous modern gal.

Eat Me

In 48 hours I will be eat a slow-roasted suckling pig and meeting my old arch nemesis, Belgian beer.

This pleases me.

All in celebration of Friday, Turn Up To Work Hungover Day! (yes, that time of year ALREADY)

$2 donation required. Smart-casual allowed unless meeting clients.

Don’t Worry, Be Happy (bent hippy principle)

Weight and your mind are the only things you can lose without worrying about.

I Feel Sorry for Nas

Jay-Z gets Beyonce, Nas gets the ghetto trash that has been called a bitch in even more songs than Foxy Brown and Eve put together.

I'm sure he enjoys her milkshake. Hey Nas, I fucked your bitch (collective voice of about 1000 men and 3 ladies).

Got My Mojo Workin’

Today the hooker gave me a discount because she said I was cute and funny.

She must see heaps of guys too so to make an impression is great! This has totally solved my self esteem problem.

I gave her an extra special goodbye hug to thank her.

Bargain Fever at the Korean Supermarket

Today I purchased 30 Asian jelly/pudding things. They’re like bigger, more flavourful jelly cups.

30 seems like a lot but it really isn’t*.


*probably is

New To The Blog?

Allow me to reintroduce myself, my name is Hov.

Plus 10 Hot Points

As a husky celebrity I’m always on the lookout for the newest fad diet. It’s about looking cool as much as it is losing weight and getting healthy.

I’m currently trying to lose weight with this awesome new exercise program: LARPing. Live Action Role-Playing developed in some sort of mountains by total nerds as the perfect way to stay in shape while still totally talking about magic cards and shit.

So far I’ve lost 5 kgs and made no friends (friends = full of carbs). It’s pretty good.

Remix Costume Party, Now, You’re All Invited

I’m going as King Leer.

Watch out, ladies! (I know I'll be watching...)

The Seven Year Pitch

So I wrote an entire sketch comedy show SLASH sitcom today. It’s called ‘101 Things To Do When Dying of AIDS’ and it’s basically sketches about people with AIDS doing shit before they die.

It is revolutionary TV and I think it will be awesome. So far most of the networks want me to change it to something like ‘101 Things To Do When Being a Crap Comedian Who Cannot Write for TV’ but I want my artistic integrity preserved.

Firstdate

I was hell horny the other day so I went on a date with this averagebabe in the hopes of scoring some bedroom time. I was all sweet and shit, opening doors for her and not just in the career sense (gosh Jobe you are the most chivalry guy I know to mankind). The real closer was when I pretended that we had all of the same interests.

I’d be all “so what are your thoughts on the war in Israel?” and she’d same some bullshit and I’d be all “oh yea me too” and I’d rinse and repeat that for a while.

But at the same time I didn’t say we had TOO much in common as to raise suspicion.

Stupid fucking girls they’re just begging to be used.

PS I fucked her.

Five Things to Do in International Waters (you know, in case you find yourself there and aren't sure...)

• Bleach you teeth with underage, fighting midgets.
• Gamble with the lives of your entire department.
• Swim/ Enjoy the sun.
• Work on plan to bottle the “essence” of hookers and what makes them hook.
• Fish for very large sea creatures such as giant squid, marlin, John Goodman and tuner.

A Cat in the Sack

I am never having sex with Chan Marshall again. She seemed so out of it and tasted like whiskey. Her orgasms didn’t seem sincere and her entire performance was questionable. She just lay there the whole time, whining.

Jobe’s Lame Weekend Joke

I went to Ikea today because my doctor asked for a stool sample.

They had some, but they were cheap and flimsy. My doctor said he didn't like the looks of it. No, not at all.

She Got It In a Box

I gave a hotbabe her period last week. She was so thankful. She said she’d been waiting for it for a while. But I like to take my time. Treat em mean keep em keen is what I always say.

Cut, Print

I love running into friendly Asians with machetes in Chinatown. I seem to ALWAYS get caught with a rockmelon that is in dire need of being cut up.

They’re more than happy to oblige if I promise them a slice. After all, I can’t eat a whole rockmelon by myself (note: lie, I can, but I don’t want to sound fat to the Asians).

A Hare-Raising Tale

So I got a hare on Thursday night at Thursday night shopping in the city. It’s a mischievous hare. I think it was bade hare day in the city or something, as there were many on sale.

Since then my life has been in ruins. So many people have been calling, wanting me to go out and do stuff with them, but I’ve had to deny them because my hare needs washing. Who’d have known that an inbred rabbit could be such high maintenance! But my so-called friends think I’m bullshitting them. I have short hair (omg, blog stalker girls please stop scribbling in your notebooks DURING posts) so they think I’m lying, since short hair doesn’t take very long to wash. When I try to explain to them that it is a hare, not hair, they get pissed off and hang up.

My life is over thanks to this fucking hare. I hate it. Yes, I hate my hare.

Dude, Check Out My New Cat

Success is Measured in Many Ways

I am quite pleased today because it appears this blog is the 2nd match when searching Google for "RAW comedy 2007", behind the official site.

I am hoping I become interviewed (hardcore) for allowing millions of readers a glimpse into a RAW contestants mind.

I hope it's a decent interview too, like for SMH and not the poxy Telegraph. Or worse, Zoo magazine.


OMG Jobe on Nova!