Friday, July 28, 2006

Violent Hand Gestures

I have a propensity to constantly describe myself as crazy, mentally unbalanced, emotionally unstable etc- all of which I believe are accurate descriptions depending what time of day you talk to me. However, from this moment forth I shall refer to craziness as "Beyonce and Celine" moments.

REASON #1: Beyonce Video Clip

I actually love this clip, its like a promotional video for lunatics. Who would have thought that a record company would agree to such a fantastically erratic video clip for a major international pop star like Beyonce. When I heard her new single 'Deja Vu' I was expecting the typical booty busting dance clip, I severely underestimated Ms.B. This clip has it all- some crazy Shakira'esque re-growth, running aimlessly through a field, the ugliest couture clothing I have ever seen, dance moves that replicate an epileptic fit, and general Beyonce lunacy. Perfect.




REASON #2: Celine Dion Interview.

Celine Dion is f***ing bonkers. I totally agree with the point she is trying to make in this interview- and I just love her even more for the melodramatic and incoherent delivery. Watch out for the violent hand gestures. Crazy b****.




In summary, insanity is the new black.

Monday, July 24, 2006

S.eeking M.ore S.anity

As you may or may not have noticed I have added a fancy image to the top of my blog. I hope you appreciate the effort I went to- I'll have you know that I actually scanned in a screwed up piece of paper to create that graphic.

The more observant readers will also note that the image has changed slightly as of today. In my first attempt to upload the new heading I subconsciously left out the 'mental illness' section of the tag line, this was purely a coincidence however one reader pointed out my omission- and demanded that it be added immediately. I was offended at first, but then I realised that my dear friend had a good point, let me explain.

So fragile are my emotions that when I accidentally deleted my all the stored SMS messages from my mobile phone yesterday I actually shed a tear. Not the best indication of a strong grip on ones sanity- I mean the cure for cancer wasn't embedded in a bunch of 4 line text messages, there is no cultural significance in the way I choose substitute the @ symbol for the word 'at', and there were no moments of literary brilliance contained within drunken messages sent at 3am. So what was the real loss? Sadly, now there is no concrete evidence that I actually have friends, but I'll get over that. As a result of this self analysis the 'mental illness' tag has returned to the top of the blog and I have decided to work on my issues- by work on my issues I mean stop acting like a frekkin' lunatic.

Luckily I didn't delete the video of the funny little hampster that screams profanity, that would have been a real tragedy.

I Googled 'Crazy Guy' - to find this picture. Sometimes they get it so right its scary... very scary.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Is Jesus A Small Minded Fool?

What do I have in common with Batman, Superman and Spiderman? I don’t have the desire to wear tights in public and unfortunately I don't have any of those nifty superhuman abilities, otherwise I’d be doing something more exciting than sitting here blogging. However I do have a secret identity, well sort of... it’s actually just a secret... so I suppose the superhero connection is a bit of a stretch.

Over the past few years I have gone through the process of ‘coming out’ to all of my friends I have not yet had that awkward conversation with my family. I’ve played the conversation out in my head numerous times and it just never seems to end well, in fact it often ends with police knocking at the door. For me its just one of those annoying things I keep putting off, like untangling the wires behind your television- which reminds me I have an electrical hazard behind my TV at the moment, I must get round to fixing that.

Though I do feel guilty about keeping this a secret I try to maintain some kind of honesty policy; in the last 6 years I have never lied to anyone who has asked me if I was gay, I don’t make up girlfriends, I don’t intentionally do anything to lead people to believe I’m straight- I just don’t feel the need to. Nor do I feel the need to announce my gayness,

“Hi. I’m gay. Did I mention I was gay? My name is Michael. I’m a gay gay man.”

The truth is I’m just too lazy to have the ‘gay’ discussion with people, especially with my family. If all goes well and I don’t get kicked out of home or sent to a weird church camp to ‘un-gay’ me I predict many painful hours of discussion, my family tends to get into these marathon debates that have no real end. It would be a lot easier if I could just get it all over and done with a couple of pointed sentences,

“I’m gay. You didn’t do anything wrong when I was a child. It’s not unnatural. Jesus can suck my c*** if he doesn’t agree.”

(Attention Religious People: Don’t get your knickers in a twist… notice how I said ‘If he doesn’t agree’, so it’s not actually offensive unless Jesus is a small minded fool who doesn’t agree with me.)

However I just can’t see this happening. So until I have built up the stamina required to endure the marathon conversation with my family I continue to live somewhat of a double life.

My two worlds almost collided on Thursday night. As far as my family knew I was out having dinner with some friends in the city, I was actually having ‘pre-drinks’ at a friends house before heading out to a gay club. Unbeknownst to me as I strolled down Sydney road alone my sister was enjoying herself at a bar on the very same street. Later in the evening I had an awkward conversation with her that went something like this.

SISTER: Hey Michael where are you?

ME: Out with friends. Where are you? (Notice how I haven’t yet lied.)

SISTER: I’m just leaving The Spot on Sydney road. Where exactly are you? (The interrogation begins.)

ME: In the city. (So now I’m stretching the truth a little.)

SISTER: Are you sure? (Typical older sister.)

ME: Yeah. (Lie. At this point I’m slightly intoxicated and failing to make the obvious connection that she saw me on Sydney Road.)

SISTER: Ok then. Have fun in the city. (The lie has been observed and saved in her memory bank for future interrogation.)

When my brain finally put the pieces together about an hour later I began to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I know that I wasn’t spotted having sex in an alleyway, but I know my sister well- she has caught me on a lie, she will want to get the real story.
Looks like I may be having ‘the conversation’ sooner than expected. But for now I have more important things to worry about- I’m off to untangle the cables behind my television. If you don’t see another post for a few days I’ve either been electrocuted to death- or sent to ‘Father Hetero’s Camp for the Sexually Unclean.’
Jesus/Fool ?

Friday, July 21, 2006

Mariah Carey On Crack

Something that you may not know about my blog is that I actually write a lot more than you actually see posted here. I have at least ten complete posts that have never sent the light of day, for various reasons. The main reason for withholding these phantom posts- besides the fact that they are boring and unfunny- is the constant changes in my mood.

I have more moodswings than Mariah Carey on crack. The changes my seem subtle to the untrained eye but I have learned that my outlook can change dramatically from one minute to the next. Sounds complicated and a bit disconcerting I know, but actually it just makes my days more interesting.

So how does this affect the blogging process you might be wondering... (if at this point you are not 'wondering' in the least you might want to return to doing something productive because I'm about to start rambling.) Well what happens is, I spend twenty minutes writing a post about something that has annoyed me or made me laugh and when I go back to read through it I no longer feel that way. This has happened numerous times when I've written something and not posted it straight away. For example, I got my braces fitted two days ago, below is an excerpt of the post I wrote soon after.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned- not true. Hell, and Earth for that matter, has bigger problems- 22 year olds who have just had braces fitted.

Today was the big day, the braces went on. Knowing that I still have the metal jaw stretching device in my mouth, it has been there since the operation in May, just imagine how metallic my mouth is at the moment. All jokes aside I'm confident that I would actually set off metal detectors, which is the only fun thing I can associate with the current f***ed up state of my mouth.


etc... (Its started to get a bit graphic and violent at this point.)

I was too tired to finish the blog that night so I saved it, when I returned to post it the next day I just didn't feel so angry about the whole situation anymore. Actually I felt a bit embarrassed for complaining about braces, I mean children have braces without being so melodramatic. I distinctly recall having a conversation with a 12 year old girl in the orthodontists office (don't judge me, I'm just a friendly person,) she was about to have braces put on and much to the disgust of her mother I was telling the girl how much I hated the idea of having braces. She responded simply,

'Get over it. They don't stay on forever.'

She has a good point, and her shrill little voice echoed in my head as I decided to refrain from posting yet another bitter story.

So there you go, because of my moodswings you miss out on some great rants and even some interesting declarations of love (sorry Mona), because I just cant seem to maintain any kind of emotional stability.

It's hard work being this unstable. Time to go, one of the voices in my head wants a green tea and a new pair of pants.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Platinum Sunday

My Sunday morning typically begins with me looking for ways to delay getting out of bed for as long as possible. I will read anything I can get my hands on- including the payment instructions on my credit card bill. I'll call and SMS everyone I know, including people I actually dislike. I sometimes count the freckles on each forearm in an attempt to discover which is the more speckled arm.

This past Sunday morning I turned to my trusty friend, television, in the hope that some quality music videos would provide the perfect excuse to spend another hour wrapped up in my doona like a kebab in tinfoil- ok bad analogy. Unfortunately, due to a long night of partying I had slept through all the music video shows. It appeared I would have no choice but to drag my lazy a** out of bed, change out of my cowboy pajamas into some respectable 'real world' clothes and face another day- but then suddenly my luck changed.

Every once in a while the television God's smile on you, offering up programming perfection. At midday today I had my miracle, a fantastically terrible movie called 'Double Platinum.' Let me set the scene- the movie was made in 1999 and stars Diana Ross and Brandy, this alone is more than enough to satisfy me- but let me give you the rundown on the mostly irrelevant storyline. Olivia (Diana Ross) leaves her unsupportive husband and newborn baby girl to pursue a her dream of being a singer. Years later a mega-successful Olivia returns to find her daughter Kayla (Brandy) and to reveal herself as the mother she never knew. Surprise, surprise-Kayla (Brandy) is an aspiring singer- you do the math, that's right lots of singing, or should I say terrible lip-synching.

The film was a 'Television Movie Event' that was screened around the time of Brandy's rise to fame. Her song 'Have You Ever' is featured at least 7 times throughout the film, I'm not exaggerating- just when you think you have seen it for the last time the film clip pops up in the background or the song plays on a nearby radio. The interesting 'behind the scenes' fact is that the sappiest song in the history of recorded music, a duet called 'Love Is All That Matters', was supposed to be the big single from the film, this never happened. At the film's climactic conclusion there is an emotional mother daughter performance of the song, but all I could think was, get off stage Diana I want to hear Brandy sing 'Have You Ever' for the 22nd time!

Poor Ms.Ross, she really comes off second best in this one. Although Brandy's acting is as wooden as...well...wood, you just cant help but love her! Hell, she's Brandy-and Moesha- and that dumb chick from 'I Still Know What You Did Last Summer.' Diana just cant compete with that, maybe I'm being too critical of her, after all the giant hair was very entertaining, it deserved a credit all of its own- as do Queen Latifa's breasts in the movie 'Chicago'.

'Double Platinum' took me on an emotional rollercoaster- joy, sadness, laughter, tears and laughter with tears. Some may criticise the terrible acting, the lower than low production values and the countless holes in what was supposed to be a plot- I on the other hand give it three thumbs up for sheer C-Grade brilliance.


The 90's never looked so 80's.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Legal Action

I will be taking legal action against the producers of the movie 'Saw 3'. An unauthorised photo of me has somehow made its way to those responsible for creating this new promotional poster for the film.



In other tooth related news I have managed to trick my orthodontist into speeding up the process of fixing my teeth/jaws. Through some clever appointment cancellations and re-bookings I cut down the recommended 'healing' time by almost two weeks. Then last week I managed to come out of a 'check up' and squeeze myself in for my first 'braces preparation' appointment later that day, one more week cut out. My overall goal is to be on the operating table for operation number two at least a month before scheduled. So far I am on target.

Michael - 1

Othodontist - 0

Tequila?

So imagine you have a blog, you enjoy writing mildly amusing tales about the mildly amusing events of your day to day life, and then there comes a time when the events of your life seemingly urge you to tell a tale that involves real life, not quirky stupidity. When I say ‘real life’ what I’m alluding to is people problems, more specifically two people, one is you, one is a special friend, and by special I don’t mean handicapped.

What do you do when rejection inevitably rears its ugly head? In this hypothetical situation let’s say that not only does it rear its head, it leans in and takes a bite out of your ear- Mike Tyson style.

Do you blog about it and follow your first, slightly deranged, impulse, crack open a bottle of your 2nd favorite wine, crank up some Boys II Men tunes and create a post titled, ‘I Choose To Be Single, I Like It That Way, I Love Myself And I Don’t Need No Man To Complete Me: Part 1.’ Or do you do the mature thing, keep the details to yourself and post a video of a cat beating up a small child?

If you have managed to read between the blatantly obvious lines you will have realized that I presently find myself in a similar (read: the exact) situation to the one described above. I have spent a significant amount of time pondering my blog options, I’m not sure if there is any standard ‘reality:humor’ ratio for blogging- so I will attempt to find my own middle ground.

I have a poorly researched theory that in every relationship there is one person who is more emotionally invested; this is the person who feels more for their partner than the partner does for them- otherwise known as the person who ends up drinking a lot of tequila when the relationship ends. I think this is true for relationships in all the various stages, from the first date right through to marriage. I wish this wasn’t true, but I am yet to see substantial evidence to the contrary.

Luckily, I enjoy tequila.

That’s all I’m going to say.



The fisrt step is admitting you have a problem.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Scrabble Hallucinations

I have taken pain-killers to stop the throbbing in my mouth- that sounded like the begining of a tacky porn novel.
I should explain myself. I had to go to the fancy dentist man again today for phase two of 'Operation F*** Up Michaels Face', hence there is a significant amount of orthodontic related tenderness requiring pain medication. So once again there will be no significant blogging today as the Mersyndol Forte has started to kick in and my keyboard is starting to look like a game of scrabble- ahh hallucinations.

I have found a little video for you to enjoy in my absence.
Praising Jesus never looked like so much fun- you can even enjoy this clip without sound!




It's nice to know there is always someone crazier than you.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Dot Point Stupidity

I have just spent the last hour and a half writing the most boring and incoherent blog post ever. It's really hard to produce a follow up to my last post- unfortunately its not every day you are involved in tram related violence!

After 7 days of only getting small amounts of sleep and doing WAY to much self- indulgent thinking, (Translation: Wallowing in self pity), it seems that everything I try to write at the moment turns into an analysis of bad decisions that I've made in the past week. So rather than subjecting you to a 10,000 word essay I have edited my stupidity into to dot points.

Examples of some questionable decisions I have made in the past week include:

- Trying to give myself a haircut with a handheld mirror and kitchen scissors.
- Pointing out to my mother that she hasn't cooked a good meal in weeks.
- Attempting to complete 300 sit-ups immediately after eating approximately 2kg's of spaghetti and drinking half a bottle of wine.
- Unsuccessfully limbo-ing under a bridge made by two people's legs in a nightclub.


And most recently,

- Deciding to walk (alone) from Collingwood to Flinders St Station at 1am on a Saturday night/Sunday morning to catch a cab. (I clearly didn't learn my lesson after the Route 59 incident.)

I don't need to document the consequences that followed each of these misguided decisions- you can safely assume a high level of unpleasantness for all the examples. The sheer stupidity of each action speaks for itself.

I hope you enjoyed the idiot's guide to being an idiot. Hopefully I'll be back with a less idiotic post in the near future.

My assistant struggled to file the original un-edited version of this post.

Friday, July 07, 2006

19 Ten-Cent Pieces

Warning: The following post contains low level violence, strong language and adult themes. Parental guidance is recommended for readers under the age of 29.

Since the theft of my ever reliable 1991 Nissan Pulsar Hatchback, affectionately named Habib-Mufassa, I have been incredibly reliant on friends and family to take my lazy ass from point A to point B regularly. Recently this has become quite a heavy burden for my team of dedicated drivers as I am going through an oddly sociable faze, so I have resorted to catching public transport into the city on a couple of occasions in the past few weeks.

The trusty 59 tram has always served me well; and although its timetable is more erratic than Whitney Houston I still love it. So last night at 7.00pm I jumped on board, slinked into the least stained seat I could find and set the iPod to play my favorite mix of 90’s one hit wonders. As the tram rattled into the CBD I noticed a rather scattered young man stumbling down the tram in my direction, I foolishly hoped that the white iPod earphones would deter him from any attempt at conversation. I was wrong.

He motioned for me to take out the earphones, I begrudgingly complied. He proceeded to ask me for some spare change- not only did I not have any spare change; I had no change at all. I had paid for my 2-Hour Concession ticket with 19 ten-cent pieces that I scrounged from various sources around the house. So I apologized as politely as I could and went to put my earphones back in. Not yet content to leave me alone the boy then barked,

‘You must have money, your rich- you have an iPod!’

I desperately wanted to reply,

‘No actually I’m not rich, I won’t be buying lunch for the next six months so I can pay for this iPod. Now take a step back- you smell like crazy.’

But instead I said,

‘Sorry mate, I don’t have any money on me.’

It was at this point he got a sad look on his face and slunked down in the seat next to me. Suddenly I began to feel guilty because I couldn’t help out the poor guy, this feeling didn’t last long. He asked to have a look at my iPod, I showed him the screen and gave a nervous smile- then things began to get interesting.

He attempted to snatch the iPod out of my hand and leap out of the as we pulled up outside the Victoria Market. I think he severely underestimated my love for the iPod and the violent undercurrent that is always lurking just below my calm surface.

We struggled over the iPod for a moment, then he leaned in and grabbed me by the chain around my neck- at which point some strange 'Tram Ninja' powers were awoken within me. I managed to use one hand to free the iPod and the other to perform an arm twisting move that brought the guy to his knees. He was still holding on to my chain, and screaming,

‘Let go of my arm!’

I gave his arm an extra little twist and replied,

‘Let go of my f***ing chain!’

He let go of the chain and I let go of his arm, while giving him a shove in the direction of the door that was just closing. Next thing I hear is-

‘Tickets please!’

Ticket inspectors- great timing.

One inspector approached me, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened, I was in a bit of a daze but I managed to produce my ticket. The young man- who’s arm I hope I f***ing broke- hadn’t been able to escape the moving tram, and as I hopped off a couple of stops later he was still being harassed by three unfriendly inspectors… instant justice.

I know its daunting to get involved in these types of situations and I don’t blame people who are traveling alone for staying out of it, but to the group of four people (two adult couples) who sat there and did nothing- I hope you all get the bird flu.



There is a little bit of 'Tram Ninja' in all of us.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Michael Brody

I must send my friend Emma a basket of fruit. Her educational blog alerted me to this wonderful site where you can upload an image of yourself and use "State of the Art Face Recognition Technology" to determine which celebrity you look like. I love using complex technology for my own childish amusement.

I uploaded a photo of myself hoping that the results would give me the confidence boost I desperately needed having just seen myself in the mirror after being abruptly awoken from an afternoon nap. The results were- well- lets take a look at them one by one. Let me just say for the record that these results are not forged, "I am prepared to swear on a box of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts."

My best match, coming in at 74%, is Rachel Weisz. I'm not sure that I look much like her- and I'm not sure how I feel being told that I look like a girl, but I suppose at least I look like a hot girl. An Oscar winning hot girl!

Ahh, this is more like it, Clearly I bear a striking resemblance to former N*Sync member Justin Timberlake. Those long days spent rehearsing the dance steps to 'Bye Bye Bye' may come in handy should I ever want to join an N*Sync tribute band.


Madonna, 64%? Is this some kind of sick joke about the gap between my teeth? It's not natural ok, I had a frekkin jaw operation- the gap is closing!

Finally technology got it right. The website says I bear a 57% resemblance to Adam Brody. *Sigh* That's enough for me to walk away from this experiment with a smile on my face. For the record I would turn straight to be with Rachel Bilson.


Use the link below to try this for yourself, leave your results in the comments section.

Be honest- unless you are told you look like Paula Abdul, in that case I don't want to know about it.

FACE RECOGNITION WEBSITE