if we had an office and a christmas party, I'd put the pictures of all our photocopied bums right here on this website for tumble driers.

Your A-Z Gift Guide For Valentine’s Day (many letters have been excluded due to irrelevance)

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Okay you guys, listen up: Valentine’s Day is sooner than we all realised. I have dedicated every waking hour to making my Labour Day present for you all and it isn’t for weeks! LOL! I’ve spent this whole time trying to get you all pregnant for Labour Day and I didn’t even need to worry yet! What a goose I’ve been running round this whole city trying to sex you all up and it turns out I should have been worrying about Valentine’s Day all the while! Egg on my face much?! As if Valentine’s Day has anything to do with sex! What a noob!

Luckily I have cottoned on just in time to save the day as per usual. Stop worrying about what to get that special someone on Singles-Suck Day and start reading about it right here in this really good and comprehensive list I’ve made…

What to get for “the girl who has everything”: don’t get her anything! That one is easy. Next!

For “your local deli man”: see if you can smuggle him some exotic cheeses from Brunswick West or an outer suburb. I’m not sure what border control is like once you cross the 86 tram line but it will be worth the anal discomfort to see the smile on Pasquale’s face when you present him with a wheel of Cragieburn’s finest cheddar. Trust me, if making out with your deli man is your goal this V Day, you won’t be disappointed.

For “Vince”: when Vince was a baby his favourite present was the box his present came in. Hahaha what an idiot! A perfectly good present and all he wanted was the box! So whatever you do don’t get Vince a teething ring for Valentine’s Day, he will just throw it aside like he always does and start playing choo-choo-trains with the box. And don’t think you can take him to Noodle Box for a romantic date either because Vince thinks that Noodle Box is just a shop for boxes. He doesn’t even know that noodles are served there! When Vince is really hungry we all go to Noodle Box for dinner and while he is trying to fit his head in a box we all eat delicious noodles and leave feeling so satisfied. But not Vince! He leaves feeling hungry and sad because he never can fit his head in a Noodle Box box. So probably just get him a bag of food, Vince hates bags.

For “James Baker”: whatever you do don’t give James the crusts of your sandwiches, that boy’s hair is curly enough! (actually, probably don’t ever give crusts as a Valentine’s present, unless your Valentine is a duck which is frankly the most adorable thing I ever heard). Anyway, why would you want a duck for your Valentine when you could have James freaking Baker?! Get him something really suave like a car radio or a golden bracelet and he will probably kiss you on the lips!

For “my Mum”: I don’t care what you get for my mum, just make sure it’s good, she’s my mum you jerk!

For “Michelle”: I don’t think Michelle knows how iPhones work because she doesn’t have one. So get her some iPhone lessons for the big day and she will love you just as soon as she figures out how to swipe right for you on Tinder. What could be more romantic? Only it’s too bad Michelle can’t tell her left from her right! ROFL! Sucks to be you who spent all your money on expensive iPhone lessons when Michelle really needs basic life lessons about how to be a functioning person! Hey Michelle! Do you even know how to spell #ILY? You will never find true love on an iPhone or at a roundabout unless it’s with a policeman pulling you over for going right instead of left! Roundabouts aren’t Tinder Michelle! And learn how to spell #

For “Leo”: If a single one of you gives Leo a compliment for Valentine’s Day I will noogie you all the way into premature baldness. His head is getting so big there is not a bonnet in the world that would fit it. And Leo loves his bonnets! He normally wears a bonnet all year round - not just in summer time but winter time as well! The kindest gift you could give Leo this Valentine’s is to be meaner to him than ever. If you see him drinking a milkshake in the street, stride right up and extinguish your cigarette in it! Or yell out something like, “hey Leo, Leo! No not you Leo, the more handsome, artistic, intellectual one behind you!” And when he looks to see the pretend better Leo, extinguish your cigarette in his milkshake! That Leo, always drinking milkshakes!

For “Laura”: Laura has never had a single Valentine. Not even in her wildest dreams. Which is sad because she has stopped eating so many pickled onions and she has gotten her night terrors in check. You could get Laura an old newspaper or make her go to work for you and she will just think that is what a Valentine’s present is. She will be so happy to have finally gotten a Valentine that she won’t even mind that it is to stand in line for you at Centrelink! LOL Laura! Doing a menial task isn’t what a Valentine is! They are supposed to be nice like a romantic dinner or naked hugging or watching an entire season of the Gilmore Girls. I haven’t reported my income for eight weeks and now you are standing in line for me at Centrelink without the proper paperwork because you think I love you when I don’t! Gosh Laura, you can be such a Rory!

For “me”: OMG you guuuuuys, stop! You don’t have to get me anything! Seriously, let’s make a pact: no presents this year, okay? Buuuuut, if you did want to get me something (and that is what no presents means, it means surprise me with an amazing secret present) you could get yourself pregnant by Labour Day? Kay? Knocking you all up myself is exhausting and I’m not saying you have them but I’m scared of crabs and I don’t know how sex works. If it’s just naked hugging then why is it so noisy when my housemate does it? And anyway, it’s your Labour Day present you selfish fertile jerk!

Loooooooooove yooooooooou! xoxo

Our Worst Christmas Nightmare

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It’s Christmas time you guys! And before you put your turkey stockings under the cranberry bush there’s something I need to tell you: don’t even bother! Don’t even bother menu planning your goose sliders or your ham dumplings or your vegg-nog! Because he’s beaten us to it! He’s out-coo(l)ked us again! Who? Who has stolen my idea of an Oriental American Eggless Christmas?! Why Jesus has you silly cajun ramen sausage! But don’t cry you guys because I got you all a Christmas present and it isn’t just my old bike that I don’t need anymore because Santa brought me a better one! Vincent is getting that. No, I got you guys a list of reasons why you’ll never be as cool as Jesus so you may as well stop trying! Harsh truths for Christmas! What lucky boys and girls…

First of all, he was born in a manger. Do you guys even know what a manger is? Neither do I! Hahahaha we’re not even hip enough to know! It’s not a fixie or organic soy cheezels so we don’t know what one is! I tried to Yahoo search it discreetly under the table so that you would all think I knew what one was and then you would at least think I was as cool as a baby Jesus but I spelled manger wrong and now I only know what a manager is (guys, I think I might be a manager! Should I be making more money? Let me know if you know).

Some of us are just cooler right from the A.C. You see some of us are born straight into the arms of awesome parents, in a tent, in Bush Camp, at Meredith, during the silence wedge. And some of us are born to parents who call them to let them know when there is a new Kmart add on TV. It’s like how Baker’s name is Baker but none of the cool cats in his family has ever even seen a bread stick. Way to stick it to the man Bakers! You guys are so cool a fresh warm panini would probably melt your skin right off! Jesus’ parents weren’t the Kmart kind either. They were the skin melting panini kind. Maz and Jo were so cool they didn’t even do sex to make their baby! “Everyone’s doing that” they said. “We want a low-impact carbon neutral baby.” Do you guys have any idea how much carbon all your baby making is releasing? Heaps and heaps I think! But not M&J - they got God to eco-put a baby right in Mary’s tummy. No carbs, no eggs, no sperm: the immaculate vegan conception! Way to be outdone by Jesus since the womb everyone! Even Baker had a quick Spanish omelette on his way out. I’m guessing. 

And it only gets better from here! Who were your friends when you were born? Because mine were my brother who was really into Banjo Patterson and my cousin who was really into biting. But not Jesus. Jesus’ first friends weren’t a two year old who recited The Man From Snowy River and a teether. His first friends were kings. Mother fucking kings! Frankincense smoking kings who just like, followed stars to see where they lead and who knew what myrrh was and hung with shepherds like it was no big deal. And even though I’ve made a point of never asking Michelle personal questions, because boring and sad amirite?? I’m pretty sure her only friends were like, caterpillars and stuff which is why she can’t eat any of them now. Never will she savour the tasty delights of a caterpillar and all because her friends weren’t kings or shepherds or even people at all. Hahaha it’s so pathetic how much less cool than Jesus we all are but especially Michelle who is probably as far behind as you can get. 

So there you have it! Little baby Jesus has beaten us all! We are mere pawns in his chess game of cool. And he’s a baby. When Vince was a baby he got his head caught in the banister like once an hour. And I don’t think Wayne ever even was a baby because whoever heard of a baby with a beard? Not me! ROFL Wayne! Never even a baby! How do you know if you’re a man or a boy or a pensioner? Way to probably be paying too much for movie tickets Wayne! Still, it’s not all bad news. For one thing, Wayne can probably get us cheap stuff on Tuesdays, and now we can eat all the scotch eggs we want for Christmas! Except you Michelle! Still as far behind as anyone can get…

Some Pretty Big Anoraks To Fill. Backwards.

On the dawn of yet another critically criticised show, there has been a lot of talk - some good, some smack - about who these new Bumcracks think they are. Well, I can’t tell you who they think they are. But I can tell you who I think they think they are. Which will be just as good since it will be easier and also because I don’t know any of them that well. Set your filters to walden-harsh guys and let’s all get to judging them together… 

Leo Milesi

Guest Star, Number 11 Draft Pick, Cried in Bambi When He was Three

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If there is one thing Leo loves it is sticking it to the man. I cannot tell you how many times Leo has sat in the handicapped seat on a tram without looking out for old people or scanning his myki or even checking the balance. Woah, what? OMFG Leo! What if there’s no money on it and the tram inspectors get on? You won’t be able to tap on and pretend you only just alighted! You are stirring a molotov cocktail with a pointy to the man stick and I can barely watch! When Leo goes to the supermarket he scans spanish onions as brown onions and hydroponic tomatoes as regular tomatoes. And he knows the difference between them! Don’t think he doesn’t! He just doesn’t want to pay extra for a finer product! What a rebellious guy who is also thrifty with his pennies and well rested after a crowded tram trip. You should never believe Leo when he tells you how long something is going to take. Movies, a two minute egg timer, boxing day – he won’t be able to tell you how long they will take! One time he came over to my house to make some dip and he said it would only take twenty minutes. But it didn’t only take twenty minutes! It took like an hour and I was so hungry by the end I said, “hey Leo, buy a watch much?” And he didn’t even know what to say! Hahaha Leo! Don’t know what to say about your watch you don’t have! You can’t buy a watch but scan it as a Livestrong bracelet Leo! You can only buy those online now! Know more about retail Leo! In this technological age a lot of bricks and mortar stores have moved online to compete in a market that has lower overheads and higher growth potential. Read a book about computers for once Leo!

Laura Frew 

Guest Star, Knows Rude Words, Might Teach You Some

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Laura has never had a single nickname. Not even one! She once tried to get everyone calling her “Law” but it didn’t work. ROFL Laura! That’s not how nicknames work! It has to be something that’s demeaning about your looks or your personality like “Shorty” or “Four Eyes” or “Dickhead.” What do you think you’re Ally McBeal or something? Do you see dancing babies in your law office where you work everyday Laura? Hey Laura! What case are you solving in your job as a professional lawyer? Bahahaha. So now we all call Laura “McBeal” behind her back and it’s the first nickname she’s ever had and she doesn’t even know she has it! She’s missing out on the one thing she’s always wanted! Best nickname ever Law! Once I went to Laura’s house and we were going to watch a movie but we never did watch a movie and I just left without even saying goodbye and then slamming the door and Laura hasn’t invited me back since. So I think where Laura comes from it is very offensive to come to a person’s house and not watch a movie. So when you do go to Laura’s house make sure you stay and watch a movie. Even if you are just dropping off some packages. Even if she needs to leave for work. Even if Laura says, “it’s my Birthday and this is a sophisticated dinner party what are you doing?” She’s probably had too much soup and doesn’t know what she’s saying. LOL Laura! Too much soup for you! You’re forgetting the most important ritual of your own culture again! You’re the one who’ll be offended if I don’t watch 2 Fast 2 Furious every time I come over. Stop forgetting your manners Laura! And get a second dvd since it’s your birthday now!

Natalie Della Grazia

Make-up Artist, Has Facebook, Won’t Accept My Friend Request

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Natalie is really good at makeup. She eats, drinks and sleeps makeup. Which is dumb because you can’t sleep makeup – those two words need a preposition if you want them to make any sense. But that’s just our Natalie. She takes her makeup without prepositions. I think she takes it with ice when she drinks it though. That girl is aaaall class. The thing about Natalie is, she is that good at makeup I don’t think we can really be sure what she looks like actually in the flesh. I mean, my eyes tell me that her hair is brown and her eyebrows are there, but how do I know she didn’t contour her hair brown and smoky eye her eyebrows there and there (she has two (that I know of)). What a sneaky sneak! One day we all made a plan and we snuck into Natalie’s house while she was sleeping so we could find out once and for all if those ears are hers but she tricked us again! It wasn’t even Natalie’s house! It wasn’t even anybody’s house! It was a hospital for children! Hahaha Nat! Egg on our faces much? Way to make us sneak into a children’s hospital in the middle of the night! Now we still don’t know what you look like and we’re not allowed to go to the children’s hospital again. Even in the day time. Even to the McDonalds. Even for a thickshake. What a trickster! Hey Natalie, have the guys at Candid Camera heard about you? Seriously, call Youtube and get someone down here! No more thickshakes or gurney rides or clown doctor matinees for us! I hope you know how to makeup the tears away! Hahahahahahahaha! I’m crying now.   

Meeting Backwards Anorak

On the cusp of their Melbourne Cabaret Festival debut it has to be asked, who is Backwards Anorak? What are they here for? And how many unfulfilled dreams do they have? What follows is none of that, but let’s meet them anyway. Don’t be intimidated, but maybe don’t look in a mirror for a few days either, unless you like self pity and crying tears down your cheeks…


Vincent Milesi

Director, Co-Founder, Alan Rickman Impersonator

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Unlike James and Michelle, Vincent has straight hair. This will prove to be the only distinguishable feature between him and the rest of the group because Vincent is what we in the biz call a “humomorph” or “copy-cat”. Michelle used to be shorter than she is now and you just know that Vincent did too. I bet James has eaten salt and vinegar chips before, and guess what I saw Vince standing near the other day? A supermarket. Also you guys should know I’ve never seen Vincent give to a single charity. But we don’t really hang out that much outside of Nandos where he conducts all of his business meetings and most of his social meetings and none of his charitable meetings. If Vince could meet anyone in the world I think he would do it. He’s just that kind of whacky guy who would meet someone one day. Vince doesn’t like tomatoes but he likes tomato sauce. And he loves carrot sticks but he hates red-heads, especially Malory from the Babysitters Club because she was a freckly four-eyes who read books and couldn’t get a boyfriend if she tried.

Michelle Brasier

Director, Co-Founder, Olympic Hopeful

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Michelle is a veganarian. Which wouldn’t be an issue except I still don’t know if she can eat chicken salt or not. So I invite her around for dinner and I don’t tell her that the salt is chicken salt. I do the same thing with cheese and eggs and steak. I don’t tell her that they’re chicken salt either and she eats them all! None the wiser! What a good joke I’m playing! Hahaha the best! Once I bought Michelle a present and it was a scarf I knew she would really love because it wasn’t made of leather but then I kept it for myself and one day she saw me wearing it and she said “I love your scarf” and I laughed so much I cried chicken salt tears and I never even told her why! Hahaha Michelle! Like my scarf do you? LOL it was going to be yours! You missed out! And Michelle doesn’t wear fur which is good because no one ever throws red paint at her. Which is more than can be said for Baker who gets it all the time. And I’ve never even seen him wear fur. Some people’s lives just invite protest I guess. But not yours Michelle! You are Amnesty wrapped in Yoko Ono holding a dove (but not too tightly. The dove can fly away whenever it wants. It is a free dove).

James Baker

Director of Music, Curly of Hair, Right of Stage Usually

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A classic one of twelve horoscopes, James faces a prosperous month but he would do well to avoid a sticky confrontation that might see him on the wrong side of a conflict later this week. That said, I’ve never been invited to a single one of Baker’s birthdays so he probably doesn’t even know when his is. He might not even know what birthdays are since they’re not piano keys or curly hair, riiight?? Get some more things to know Baker! An ambitious man-cub who doesn’t have a preference between sultanas and raisins, you just know that when James reads Choose Your Own Adventure books he flips back and chooses the other option whenever his character dies. Would I let James into my house? No. Would I be surprised to find him in my house uninvited one day? Not remotely. I’d like it. He has an open invitation after all! Mia casa is youra casa, Baker. If you wanted to make out with James (ladies!!) you should probably ask him first. He might be up for it, but you should check. That is just common courtesy.

Wayne Saunders

Photographer, Has a TV, Might Lend it to You

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Wayne loves cameras so much I think he would be a camera if he could. But I also think he would be a gazelle if he could, just for a day. In my mind I just asked Wayne if he would rather be a camera for a day or a gazelle for a day and he couldn’t decide. Hahaha Wayne! You have to pick one! You can’t be a gazelle and a camera! That’s not how it works! Make a decision for once Wayne! Wayne breaks everything he touches. He’d break his own head if it wasn’t screwed on! Once at a party I was sitting on a painter’s easel and I was telling everyone “look at me I’m art!” and then the easel broke and we all just knew it was Wayne’s fault that the easel broke. Everybody chanted “your fault Wayne! Your fault Wayne!” and Wayne couldn’t even deny it was his fault! Best party ever and Wayne was there! Go Wayne! What a cool party raver guy in all the clubs.

Mary Milesi

Internet Writer, Seat Filler, Can Clap

Mary is really short which is funny because it’s like, “grow much, Mary??” Sometimes when we are walking through Kmart we point to the kids section and say “there’s some clothes for you Mary” and it is the funniest joke alive because it probably makes her feel bad about something she can’t even change! Once when we were having a party we drew a line at the front door and you had to be taller than the line to come into the party and Mary wasn’t even tall enough! She wasn’t even tall enough to come into the party! And it was her birthday! ROFLCOPTER Mary! Too short for your own Party! How is that even possible? Mary’s favourite food is nachos but her favourite cuisine is Italian so it’s hard to know if she doesn’t understand basic geography or if she just doesn’t know how favourites work. WTF Mary! Is your favourite show Charmed but your favourite character is Gandalf? Get better at favourite Mary!

Gareth Prosser

Guest Star, Habitual Sleeper, Blinks Involuntarily

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I could describe Gareth as chinless and spineless because I’ve never seen either of his. He favours a beard and back-skin so it’s like, if a tree falls in the forest and nobody hears it does Prosser have enough spine to save the little orphan girl standing underneath? Gareth never wants you to forget that he’s been to Asia and so he eats everything with chopsticks. Toast, Starbursts, Guinness, he eats them all with chopsticks! What a cultural dude who must be super thirsty most of the time because you can’t eat drinks with chopsticks. When Gareth is drinking a Guinness with his chopsticks I say, “hey Gareth look! Asian culture!” and while he is looking for the Asian culture we all drink some of his drink and he never says anything because he is too proud to admit that he didn’t drink the Guinness himself with his own chopsticks. And there never was any Asian culture! It’s an Irish pub with a British influence! OMG Gareth you are the WORST at knowing when cultures are around.

So there you have it! We met the gang! Aren’t they the GOAT? This one would know. How? Because she is Backwards Anorak… [never ending pause for dramatic effect]

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The Lower the Hair, The Closer to the Feet: a perfect summary of human evolution

imageIn the first bits of time, before even your grandfather or mine had been born, humans were completely hairless. Like a snake or a Voldemort or a chicken nugget without its skin. Wait, that’s skinless. What else is hairless? Billy Zane? Yes. The early humans were just like Billy Zane, the ultimate man, as hairless today as he is in my dreams. Got that? Cool, and so then what’s a skinless cat? Because that actually seems impossible… 

It wasn’t until well into one of the centuries that hair started to appear atop the heads of the gentry and on the feet of the paupers or “hobbits” as they were known. This is where the term “poor as a church mouse” comes from: a poor man’s feet were so hairy it literally looked as though he had mice resting on them. Fun fact: one such Prince actually tied church mice to his feet and visited a whorehouse as a pauper. Imagine that! The prank backfired as the mice, kept live due to the Prince’s strict views on veganism, were riddled with rabies and Hepatitis rendering a bitten and gouged Prince completely dead. Which is also where the super popular constantly used phrase “dead as a prince in a whorehouse” comes from, I’m guessing. Hey, how come you never see any girl hobbits? How did all those boy ones get there otherwise? Herstory, right? Barely…

We’ve come so far with our collective hair growth it’s become almost impossible to tell a person’s worth from a mere examination of their top and bottom ends (a practice people tend to get precious about anyway. “Let me see your bottom end” is no longer an acceptable phrase to use when introducing yourself to strangers / prospective employers / friends’ parents / receptionists, which is a shame). But this wouldn’t be a demonstration of my superiority concise summary of evolution if I didn’t tell you how to claw your way to the top of the food chain. First off, if you haven’t already today, go and shave your feet. Now Frodo before I weave your funky foot fur into a liturgical stole and perform an exorcism. Ever heard the expression, “it’s not the size that counts?” No longer is it enough to just have hair - why any fool can manage that. Now it’s all about the hight of the hair. Repeat after me, the higher the hair the closer to Zane. The higher the hair the closer to Zane. But B-Zizzle doesn’t have any hair, what’s this got to do with him? Of course he doesn’t have any fucking hair. He doesn’t need any hair. He’s Billy Zane. Do you think Donald Trump gives himself a double combover every morning because he likes the way it feels? Hella no! Boyfriend’s peacocking for Billy. We’re all peacocking for Billy. Every day I’m Peacocking (for Billy).

So stuff, stack and stretch that hair because if you want to get anywhere in this world, you sure as hell better get there hair first. I don’t care if you’re walking like a bobble head on ketamine (ideally there’d be a couple stashed in your weave - for bounce) from now on. Hoist that hair up and put your baldest foot forward because in today’s high society, a flat-packing hobbit is about as dead as a prince in a whorehouse. Nailed it. 

Bring your discarded foot fur to our exorcism! Deets and shaving techniques here 

One Lump Or Two? The Socially Visible Benefits Of Tea Drinking

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Since our last blesson I have been doing some thinking. A dangerous pastime my little rubes unless you are prepared to have ideas. As is often the case with thinking, not five minutes had passed before I’d devolved into a Goleminal creature, panicked and paranoid, huddled naked in a corner and weeing uncontrollably into a makeshift nappy fashioned from a Spirit Hood. Thinking will do this to you. The reason for my petrified incontinence? Well little knickerbockers, having shared all of my secrets to cafe domination with your unchaffed behinds last week, I’m worried I may have set myself up to be Mean Girled* 

*mean girling (v.) a phenomenon in which the most popular girl reaches out to help a newcomer who uses this act of charity and kindness to dethrone the original popular girl (just so we’re clear, in this scenario I am the pretty girl with all the friends, and you are the home-schooled traitor and I hate you now. If you were vegan I would bake you a triple-tiered lemon and blackforest cheesecake with a dark chocolate and frangelico ganache and tell you it’s soy.** According to my Feminism in Film tutor, I missed the message of Mean Girls entirely. Her hairy upper lipped opinion…) 

To prevent an uprising I needed something new, something edgy. A drink, that doubles as a liquid, that’s also runny. This limited my choices considerably. Only two possibilities came to mind and one of them would have to be wrung out of the snow leopard Spirit Hood wrapped around my genitals. Tea then. After a few wet’n’wild thinking minutes, all the benefits of making the switch to this ancient Egyptian aphrodisiac became clear…

Anyone can tell you the useless benefits of drinking tea, like antioxidants and preventing cancer and I think erectile dysfunction maybe? Not sure (look up before publishing? Probably don’t bother, google funny memes about housework to post on Facebook instead). Anyway I’m pretty sure old mate Tut didn’t have any worries in the sarcophagus department. It doesn’t take a genius to uncover the real reason they were all walking sideways - there’s only so much a teensy cloth skirt can cover up, AMIRYTE?! Giant Egyptian erections aside, here is a useful and frankly genius self-devised word equation:

the benefits of tea drinking = the number of people who see you doing it x the intensity of judgement you can direct at others not doing it²

Fuck yeah Pythagoras! Intimidated by my wicked Good Will Hunting skillz, knickers-wearer? There should be skid marks in your Y-fronts seeing as now I’m turning my nose up at every over-caffeinated, toxin sweating brogue in town, there’s no way you’ll ever be able to outswag me again. Have you seen all the swag that comes with tea drinking? Have fun stirring your beans and milk, farmboy. I’ll be over here with your waiter who’s busy for the next thirty minutes while I strain my scalding hot Sleepy Oolong Opium tea through his apron. Then he’ll be busy getting me the side of wasp honey I forgot to order. Then he’ll be off-sick because wasps don’t even make honey, just really infected bites. And anyway, I said wasp honey but I meant curds and whey. Obviously. 

And so the master remains the master again for ever infinity. And if you were thinking you could just make the switch to tea think again, budgiesmuggler. Because the only thing sadder than the sight of you ordering fools-honey and choking on a stray wasp sting in an inexpertly strained cup of apron tea would be the sight of me sat on a tuffet drinking my own wee from a recycled mustard jar just to stay on top. Don’t think I won’t do it. I haven’t washed a spirit hood in months, I got supplies. 

Is It Freshly Squeezed? a really good and historical history of coffee

imageIf you’re a history buff like I am (I have a TV Hits magazine collection that predates Jonathan Taylor Thomas hitting puberty) you know that coffee is the juice that comes from coffee beans discovered in the foothills of either the Everest or the Mordor (check before you publish this!!!) Mountains by some religious monks ages ago. Before french presses and espresso macchines and skinny coiffered men whose poor pants can’t even reach their ankles existed, the monks used to squeeze the beans between their untouched and curiously hairless virginal thighs to make a deliciously pure energy drink originally called Red Bean but now more commonly known as “coffee” or “bean juice”. I think this is also where the expression “fruits of my loin” comes from. History, right? Sort of like JellyBellys, the beans come in flavours like espresso, cappuccino, decaf, skinny milk, one sugar, two Equals, soy etc.  

But how does this extremely well written historical prose help me at life? Shuttit my little loin fruits and I will tell you… 

Coffee is evuhrywhere. Drinking it is as - and maybe even more - important than breathing. BREATHING. The one you need for alive!! But please don’t waste your time and mine by drinking it where no one can see you. If your arse isn’t imprinted with the crosshatch of the underside of a crate draped in hessian while your back rests against the anti-christ of the chiropractic world: a warehouse roller door, suffering silently along with the rest of the inner-suburban population, you’re doing it wrong. 

Sitting on a bed of spikes straight out of the Prince of Persia (right??) while doing irreparable damage to your spine is not enough. Do you want your barista to follow you on Instagram or not? #noshityoudo Making an impression with the staff is more important than any job interview you will ever have. Ask questions. Ask questions like an ADD kid off their adderall. The more pretentious the better, “is the coffee house roasted?” and “is the milk organic?” are bush league. Pick up your name-brand bag and get the fuck out of my just now created imaginary classroom. “Were the beans virginally thigh pressed?” or “do you have duck’s milk?” are high distinction grade questions that will take you to the top of the coffee-chain and have all of the cafe set talent searching for hairless virgmans and chasing ducks for their milk.

Boom. My duckmilkshake brings all the boys to the yard. Now you can spend the rest of your days happily choking down bird’s milk, not having any discernible job and rolling your eyes at all the “straights” drinking from a cow. A cow. Like what shoes are made of. Now keep those eyes rolling and disinterestedly order the toasted sourdough with loin fruit jam (damn right it’s better than yours). Isn’t life better now? Class dismissed.   

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A handpicked medley of inspirations, musings, obsessions and things of general interest.