Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Someone should do something about these sheep...

I was lying awake at fuck o’clock the other morning (as opposed to this morning when I gave up and got outta bed at 2.45am) trying to figure out how I was going to get myself to sleep. First I tried reading. Unfortunately reading about the childhood escapades of one of Australia’s most well-known comediennes and laughing out loud every 5 minutes is hardly conducive to sleep. Hot milk is disgusting and a sleeping tablet was not to be thought of, given my 5am alarm. Then I turned to the old standard, counting sheep. 

It was at this point that my brain began to sabotage me...

<lies really still, eyes closed, breathing evenly. Pictures a grassy meadow near a long bendy country road in sheep country. Silently begins counting slowly.>


Brain: Hi.


Brain: Whatcha doin?

I’m trying to fall asleep.

Brain: <gigglesnort> REALLY?

Yeah, why?

Brain: Well you’re watching sheep jumping over the fence.

Yes, that’s right. Four.

Brain: Where are they going?

Fi... huh?

Brain: They’re escaping from the paddock.

I don’t know! They’re sheep! They’re just jumping over the fence!

Brain: Well it’s your concept. The only fence in it is the one next to that road.

OK, fine they’re jumping over that fence then. Five.

Brain: What if those sheep get hit by a car?

I don’t... what car?

Brain: You’ve made this realistic enough that some of these sheep have been branded and tagged. Some of them have tupping chalk marks. There are going to be cars and things on that road.

<Road train roars past on cue, thirty kilometres an hour in excess of the speed limit, barely missing a sheep grazing by the side of the now lethal-looking road>

Brain: See?


Brain: Yeah... how do you feel now about your selfishness?

I’m only trying to go to sleep!

Brain: And now those sheep are going to die. And maybe people too.


Brain: You know how fast people drive on country roads. A full-grown sheep is going to seriously fuck up a sedan. With a family of four in it.

What are you saying?

Brain: ...Little Bridget just started ballet, too...

That’s not fair!

Brain: It’s your idea.

Maybe I could... find the farmer?

Brain: AWESOME idea. How are you going to do that? You’re miles from nowhere, in a sheep field, in the middle of the night in your Happy Ice Cream pyjamas.

I’ll call the police! They can find the farmer!

Brain: That’s ridiculous.  You don’t have reception out here, you’re with Optus.

<whimpers> I want my mummy...

Brain: And they’d probably arrest you for sheep-rustling. Did you know you can be hanged for that?

My brain?  It's kind of a dick...

Saturday, 16 February 2013

The gospel according to ...

So further to our earlier post we've decided, all be it completely unintentionally, to explore the finer points of literary characters down time and then more of the bible...

Charlie: ...When you're reading a book and you mark the page and go to sleep, do you ever wondering what the characters in the book do until you pick it up again? I imagine it's like Toy Story when they all kinda come to life when the room is empty. Also it would depend on the book.

Me: They generally live in my brains and then in my dreams.
Charlie: Yeah but what do they do?

Me: Get my imagination to play in :\

Charlie: Like that 50 Shades of Shite for example: I totally imagine her changing entirely once the cover of the book is shut..."get off me, I need to do my nails" or some shit and he's like "...but my whips and chains..." and she's all "shut up bitch, ain't no rings on these fingers!" coz in my head she's totally black and all.

Me: I...I don't think that's how it goes lol

Charlie: Bullshit. AND, right, the guys in the Pratchett books all get ripped every time the book is closed. Dibbler totally has a secret compartment in his hot sausage inna bun tray filled with acid or some shit.
Me: You sure it's Dibbler that's been at the acid dear?

Charlie: And the guys in the Bible are smoking hashish because that's a cultural thing over there isn't it? And the wives are like "Oh for fucks sake" as the disciples are coming home with these stories that Jesus was telling them "Hey you will never believe this...There was this multitude right and they didn't bring their lunch and Jesus man, that dude is like some catering motherfucking GENIUS! He got like some loaves and fishes and gave everybody some and nobody was hungry. I think he invented haute cuisine or something and it was AWESOME." And their wives are all like "Yep. Good. Great. You smell like hash ya druggie fuck"."
And they're like "MIRACLES!" and their wives are like "DRUG-INDUCED HALLUCINATIONS!" and they're like "shut up shut up shut up! You don't know, man, you weren't there!" And then stones are flying around at peoples heads and it was all bad.

Me: I'm assuming that this is post Jersey Shore era Bible talk. You know, after they've all completed the STD Pokemon challenge and realised that they'll probably have to marry the chicks they've knocked up?

Charlie: Yep. Sesame seeds and all.

Me: I'm pretty sure we should write a gospel "The gospel according to Charlie Blowfly and Facey McBones"

Charlie: Anyway they're called STI's now. Because apparently "infections" sounds SO much better than "diseases".

Me: You're a bit too familiar with that subject for my liking.

Charlie: I'm educated. Stop looking at me like that.

Me: Mmmhmmm

Monday, 11 February 2013


So I discovered recently that the lunacy and shenanigans that invariably take place whenever Facey McBones and I get together isn't limited to emails, texts and face-to-face... whilst playing World of Warcraft...

<Charlie Blowfly removes all her clothes.>
[Facey McBones]:  ummm Charlie... are you going swimming?
[Charlie Blowfly]: LAST ONE IN’S A ROTTEN EGG
<Charlie Blowfly jumps into the hot springs.>
[Facey McBones]: why are you swimming?
[Charlie Blowfly]: check out the spacegoat there
[Facey McBones]: I know right, he’s typing one handed
[Facey McBones]: now we’re all watching

(This is about the point where our lunacy moved from party chat to public...)

[Facey McBones] yells: DO A BARREL-ROLL
Charlie Blowfly splashes merrily about.
[Charlie Blowfly] says: a duckdive is about the best I can do I’m afraid
[Facey McBones] says: weeeaaakkkkk
Charlie Blowfly farts loudly. Whew... what stinks?
[Charlie Blowfly] says: errr... those aren’t MY bubbles. It’s the hot springs. Yes.
[Facey McBones] says: That’s a lie isn’t it?
[Charlie Blowfly] says: sulphur and all that.
[Charlie Blowfly] says: NO.
[Charlie Blowfly] says: ...
[Charlie Blowfly] says: yes
[Facey McBones] says: I can tell when you’re lying... your lips move
Charlie Blowfly waves at Laloe.
<Laloe leaves>
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  apparently my bath isn't interesting anymore
[Facey McBones] says:  too many clothes still
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  you can’t get fully naked in this game
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  believe me I've tried
[Facey McBones] says:  I do believe that
Charlie Blowfly bursts into dance.
[Charlie Blowfly] says: ooh yeah
[Charlie Blowfly] says: check me out
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  you’d think with an ass this fine the ladytrolls would be wearing thongs but NOOOO
[Charlie Blowfly] says: Blizzard you BUTT NAZIS
Facey McBones waits patiently.
[Facey McBones] says:  You always do this after a drink.
Charlie Blowfly is busy shakin her groove thang. Or something.
[Facey McBones] says:  Why can’t we EVER just have ONE night out together without you starting shizz
[Facey McBones] says:  ...or gyrating at the air
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  I haven’t drunk much! Anyway I wouldn't HAVE to drink if you weren't SUCH A NAGGING HARPY
[Facey McBones] says:  maybe if you just paid a little more attention to noticing the things I’m all about
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  OH GOD NOT THIS AGAIN
[Facey McBones] says:  YES THIS AGAIN
<Facey McBones goes to the edge of the nearby cliff>
[Charlie Blowfly] says:  oh we’re at the big dramatic moment now are we? Go ahead – jump. Maybe I’ll get some PEACE AND QUIET
Facey McBones remembers a time when two pairs of tits in a relationship was fun.
Charlie Blowfly thinks about sandwiches.
<Facey McBones jumps off the cliff.>

Just for the record... I'm still thinking about sandwiches.

Thursday, 7 February 2013

The REAL Jersey Shore - Why Jesus lives in a sexually transmitted sesame seed.

So I thought that I’d explain the origins of how we, Charlie and I, have discovered the real truth to the epic best selling fiction book of all time…the Bible.

Charlie – I just found Jesus. He was in a sesame seed.

Me – What?

Charlie – Toast. Sesame seed crust. Bit into it. Pointy bit of seed made contract with exposed nerve. Yelled “Jesus Christ!” so loudly I swear I heard him answer.

Me – Bahahahaha

Charlie – And (because I’m mental) I ACTUALLY looked closely at the toast in my hand. As if it were somehow the toast’s fault. Or expecting to see the face of Jesus staring out of the vegemite saying “I FUCKING WARNED YOU CUNT!”

Me – I like to think that’s EXACTLY what would be said if Jesus appeared

Charlie – Hence, he was in a sesame seed.

Me- Well he is all about giving you your daily bread.

Charlie – I think that’s his Dad.

Me – Same shit man. That whole family is a yeasty disaster.

Charlie – You make it sound like they’ve all got thrush.

Me – All that desert living…they probably did. He was the original bun in the oven.

Charlie - *facepalm* are you saying that the church was founded on an STI?

Me - …yes.

Charlie – It’s times like this that I wish I could italicize my texts.   *really?*

Me – Yes really. It explains so much when you think about it. It’s pretty much the original Jersey Shore…”unexplained” pregnancies, deception, bro fights and resurrections after a few days. Which was just their way of saying “Bro…what did I drink last night. I can’t remember SHIT”…”Jesus bro, that’s because you’ve been blacked out for 3 days”

Both Charlie and I are available to hire for any theological debate you might be thinking of holding. Will work for money, LOL’s, cookies and shits and giggles.

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Jesus lives in a sexually-transmitted sesame seed

So I was thinking the other day about the things I've learned over the last few years, and the personal growth that I have achieved, and I realised that I have learned the most valuable lessons over the last two years from the other author of this blog, Facey McBones. I have learned that...

  • "Because Carrots" is an acceptable reason for just about anything.
  • If they could talk, all vaginas would sound like Enya. (Thank you Dylan Moran.)
  • There is no greater indication that you have just scored a major point and that the other party has absolutely NOTHING than to hear "'re a cunt!".
  • Sometimes the word "Goodbye!" can be the funniest fucking thing you ever heard in your life.
  • There's nothing as professional as declaring a Funny-Pants-Off and roping in a coworker to adjudicate. (Cheers for that, Knockers!)
  • "I've got red hair and my hand up your knickers!" is not a sentence your boss needs popping up in her head during a performance review.
  • Cake shouldn't ever be wibbly-wobbly in your face. (It really really should.)
  • Nooo! Hand turkey NOOOO!!! ALL HAIL TO THE HYPNOTURKEY... (don't worry, you aren't meant to understand that unless you're Facey)
  • The only appropriate soundtrack to shaving one's bikini area is Monty Python's Lumberjack Song.
  • There's a time and a place for breasts, and the time is now and the place is EVERYWHERE! \0/
  • "Not being a team player" can be directly translated to "You appear to be unwilling to shit yourself in the office for my own personal amusement".
  • Skysharks will signal the end of civilisation as we know it and by that stage there's nothing for it but a flamethrower.
  • Drawing on a jaunty moustache makes you smarter.

Something there for everyone, really.

Friday, 1 February 2013

She has made a pundamental mistake...

One fine day, early in the morning...

A valuable lesson should be learned here, boys and girls... particularly about the wisdom of not engaging Charlie Blowfly in a pun war before 7am.

I think there's something in that for all of us.

The answer to creative blocks is, apparently, NEVER SLEEPING

Now we’ve got this blog I’m finding it surprisingly more difficult that I thought to create or discover post-worthy material. I’ll sit down to post something, because I’ve got the urge to do so, and the literary equivalent of “ppppffffbbbbrrrrrtttttttt” or “brain farts” for those of us playing at home, comes out. So the task is to create something post-worthy and that doesn’t end up looking like a skid mark on the underpants of the web…the following conversation actually ensued in my head.

Brain: DYNAMIC!!!

Me: …what?

Brain: ZAZZ!!!

Me: What the actual fuck?


Me: You can’t just scream out buzzwords and hope they’ll inspire some streak of brilliance you twat. It doesn’t work like that, especially when you don’t use them correctly or coherently.


Me: SHUT UP…I thought we just covered this?

Brain: BAD…IN…AGE….

Me: Saying it again but slower won’t make it anymore true or…oh my god...

…you just…

Brain: *whispers* badinage…..