Evening..
So. Shwartsneger. Or is it Schwarzenegger? Schwartznigger? (Probably not) Schwartzenegere? (With a French pronunciation?), or as Other One suggested, the Sperminator?
Didznt yuu know dat itz iz SCHAWARTSNIGGAAAR? Ze big, chunky male from zi Austria, ya?
Puts real meaning into the Hasta La Vista, BABY!!
...Right. I don't know how to respond to that ridiculously inaccurate imitation of his unique accent. Someone else knew how to respond to it though, or rather him in general. Well... mainly his physique. A certain housemaid.. 13 years ago... Without protection.. *gasp* Poor old Maria.
Hmm. So now there is a mini-Arnie running around, hoping to walk in his father's footsteps ie. killing murderous Predators, killing robots, being a robot, being in a dysfunctional relationship with Jamie Lee Curtins and posing as a Kindergarden teacher with a pet ferret whilst having some work on the side as being Governor of California.
Big shoes indeed.. Such a figure to aspire to has young Schwarzenegger Jr. I wonder if he's already started on the protien shakes and raw eggs. It was sad to hear though that his real father was only confirmed when he started bearing a certain resemblence.. Who seriously takes 13 years to figure out who the father of their child is. Poor kid.
The awkward moment when you find out your daddy is Arnold Schwarzenegger. Dayum. That's alot to take in.
Heh. A mini Arnold running around the jungle screaming YOU MOTHERF*CKERRR would be quite amusing. Ahwell. Not really anything more to say on that.
That One and Other One
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Don't turn a night out, into a nightmare. Plank Responsibly.
I know, I know. Blogs from myself and Other One have been SERIOUSLY lacking lately due to a particularly stressful situation in both our lives at this present time. This issue can be defined in one, short 8-letter word. Planking.
Ah, good old planking. Totally pointless, random, unhygienic most of the time and SO FREAKING AWESOME.
Get out.
What better way to boost my popularity and low teenage self-esteem by lying motionless in an uncomfortably rigid position for no apparent reason.
No idea. Become a whore? Although the motionless and rigidness thing would probably become even MORE uncomfortable. As for no reason.. well.. just let your whoremones take over and therefore your reason would be excessive horniness and need to spend 3000 hours caking yourself in expensive dust and goo in order to boost your popularity (...with the males) and self-esteem (WHY?! Why does becoming/looking like a whore give girls self-esteem?)
Well, That One, it seems you know all about becoming a whore. Future career option prehaps? Being a whore sounds like a tough job, I mean you have to be pretty fit, have stamina and learn how to walk steadily in dark alleyways while wearing ten inch heels. Lets hope your customers don't have a "try before you buy" policy ;)
Who's the one who knows all about being a whore NOW, hey? *chuckle chuckle* A planking whore.. that'd be a sight. In all honesty, aside from the whole fad being blown way out of proportion, I think that planking isn't worth all the hate it's been getting. Yeah, there are those nutbags who take it WAY too far and end up getting themselves and their friends killed, and certain sports stars promoting that isn't helping in the slightest, but I must confess that I have had a laugh at some of the really cheeky and/or creative ones. Hater's gon' hate but the only reason they do is because it's something else for them to rant about (oh the irony), in order to release stress from their otherwise unproductive lives.
What's more dumb is all those people getting fired for planking at work. Seriously? At my work my manager suggested we all plank, and then make an album of the planking triumphs. When the senior manager found out it was going on, he chuckled and reminded me to tell the other manager that the counter only had a only had 4 tonne weight limit. OH DAYUM.
I wish there were more managers like that. The world would be a happier place. Reminds me of something I watched the other day. An Australian comedian (Wil Anderson) talking about the solution to childhood obesity (getting rid of 40kph zones around school. Horrid, but any lost would simply serve as an example to others).
About time for us to go do some mindless planking now (unless one of us *cough* feels the need to get up to some whore-ish activities *wink*) We shall be departing tragically into the unknown. Until next time...
Ah, good old planking. Totally pointless, random, unhygienic most of the time and SO FREAKING AWESOME.
Get out.
What better way to boost my popularity and low teenage self-esteem by lying motionless in an uncomfortably rigid position for no apparent reason.
No idea. Become a whore? Although the motionless and rigidness thing would probably become even MORE uncomfortable. As for no reason.. well.. just let your whoremones take over and therefore your reason would be excessive horniness and need to spend 3000 hours caking yourself in expensive dust and goo in order to boost your popularity (...with the males) and self-esteem (WHY?! Why does becoming/looking like a whore give girls self-esteem?)
Well, That One, it seems you know all about becoming a whore. Future career option prehaps? Being a whore sounds like a tough job, I mean you have to be pretty fit, have stamina and learn how to walk steadily in dark alleyways while wearing ten inch heels. Lets hope your customers don't have a "try before you buy" policy ;)
Who's the one who knows all about being a whore NOW, hey? *chuckle chuckle* A planking whore.. that'd be a sight. In all honesty, aside from the whole fad being blown way out of proportion, I think that planking isn't worth all the hate it's been getting. Yeah, there are those nutbags who take it WAY too far and end up getting themselves and their friends killed, and certain sports stars promoting that isn't helping in the slightest, but I must confess that I have had a laugh at some of the really cheeky and/or creative ones. Hater's gon' hate but the only reason they do is because it's something else for them to rant about (oh the irony), in order to release stress from their otherwise unproductive lives.
What's more dumb is all those people getting fired for planking at work. Seriously? At my work my manager suggested we all plank, and then make an album of the planking triumphs. When the senior manager found out it was going on, he chuckled and reminded me to tell the other manager that the counter only had a only had 4 tonne weight limit. OH DAYUM.
I wish there were more managers like that. The world would be a happier place. Reminds me of something I watched the other day. An Australian comedian (Wil Anderson) talking about the solution to childhood obesity (getting rid of 40kph zones around school. Horrid, but any lost would simply serve as an example to others).
About time for us to go do some mindless planking now (unless one of us *cough* feels the need to get up to some whore-ish activities *wink*) We shall be departing tragically into the unknown. Until next time...
That One & Other One
Monday, 11 April 2011
Another day, Another Witty Title To Come Up With.
Good 3:34pm on a warm autumn's day.Other One suggested that the topic of today's rant should be Justine Bieber. I, That One, strongly opposed. A slightly better topic shall be discussed.
Oh yes, I also have a favorite seat, and yesterday while sitting in that seat, (Oh what a coincidence!) a man with a horrible permeating stench that was beyond suffocating, decided out of all the available seats to sit next to me. Maybe Rebecca Black could have given him advice on "what seat to take" because I almost died of lung poisoning from that man's smell. Not only that, he proceeded to grumble for the whole ride, every so often turning to view my cleavage before grumbling again , like I had any interest in what he was saying.
You have such original paragraph starters, Other One, I truly admire them. As for the favourite seat experience, I don't really have much to say to that... except that it's not as bad as sitting next to a similar character for a 6 hour flight. A second law I've found is the "You Look Awkward If You Aren't Plugged In To Your MP3" rule.
"Ohmaigawd babez, so last night at the party so-and-so TOTEZ hooked up with that hottie in the polo behind the pool shed, but when heard them I thought O-M-G I was gonna go up to himmm! I definitely spotted him first. What a biatch." Indeed, they are quite amusing. The last rule is the summer armpit rule. If you've got sweat-patches or are reeking like a fat, smelly businessman, all the seats are taken, and the only option is to reach up to the ceiling to one of those handles, don't. It's better to lean on the wall or stumble every time the bus/train moves than to insult everyone else near you with your poignant stench.
Indeed, "That One" , nothing makes a bus ride more pleasurable and fulfilling than face planting into someones delightful smelling armpit. It's even more awkward when you pull away and have to pretend that nothing has happened when the only thing you want to do is drown yourself in a bath of dettol. Deodorant was invented for a reason, and if it doesn't help you just go get your sweat glands cut out or something, spare the poor, hard-working bus-catching people from your self-produced air pollution.
At least we can be grateful that, for the most part, people abide by this law and keep their arms down and their pit-sweat concealed. Pretty sure that's it for today. No other rules immediately spring to mind.
Farewell to all, especially on those buses and trains.
That One & Other One
Well I'm sorry if you don't enjoy an avid discussion debating whether Justin Bieber has a ______.
(let's keep it PG). Any how, the topic of today's blog is... *drumroll*... public transport etiquette. *ba-dum-tish!*
Ah yes. It is a well known fact that there are a few unwritten laws that the general public seem to abide by when travelling to their various destinations. The first I've noticed is the "I ALWAYS sit here, therefore I will even sacrifice sitting next to the fat, smelly businessman in order to honour my insignificant tradition.
Oh yes, I also have a favorite seat, and yesterday while sitting in that seat, (Oh what a coincidence!) a man with a horrible permeating stench that was beyond suffocating, decided out of all the available seats to sit next to me. Maybe Rebecca Black could have given him advice on "what seat to take" because I almost died of lung poisoning from that man's smell. Not only that, he proceeded to grumble for the whole ride, every so often turning to view my cleavage before grumbling again , like I had any interest in what he was saying.
Hey, at least those people have the decency to use earphones. It's worse being stuck on a bus with someone who just decides to blast their crappy, audio-tuned remixes straight out of their sub-standard phone speakers while having a one-person mosh pit.
True... especially if it's Black or Beiber. I get so very tempted to rebut, and slap them in the face with a good, loud dose of SOAD or Slipknot. It breaks my heart to know that if I were to do that, and it did turn into a war, it'd probably cost me an unhealthy fine and the confiscation of my iPod. What's another law you've noticed, Other One?
Having girly D&Ms with your biffle is not exactly the best idea, especially while sitting next to male passengers, who unbeknownst to you are listening to every word of your intense "woman's only" discussion. Although it is not necessary to listen in on these discussions, it does make for an interesting bus ride once your iPod has depleted to 1% battery and you'd rather not have a conversation with aforementioned the smelly business man sitting beside you.
"Ohmaigawd babez, so last night at the party so-and-so TOTEZ hooked up with that hottie in the polo behind the pool shed, but when heard them I thought O-M-G I was gonna go up to himmm! I definitely spotted him first. What a biatch." Indeed, they are quite amusing. The last rule is the summer armpit rule. If you've got sweat-patches or are reeking like a fat, smelly businessman, all the seats are taken, and the only option is to reach up to the ceiling to one of those handles, don't. It's better to lean on the wall or stumble every time the bus/train moves than to insult everyone else near you with your poignant stench.
Indeed, "That One" , nothing makes a bus ride more pleasurable and fulfilling than face planting into someones delightful smelling armpit. It's even more awkward when you pull away and have to pretend that nothing has happened when the only thing you want to do is drown yourself in a bath of dettol. Deodorant was invented for a reason, and if it doesn't help you just go get your sweat glands cut out or something, spare the poor, hard-working bus-catching people from your self-produced air pollution.
At least we can be grateful that, for the most part, people abide by this law and keep their arms down and their pit-sweat concealed. Pretty sure that's it for today. No other rules immediately spring to mind.
Farewell to all, especially on those buses and trains.
That One & Other One
Monday, 21 March 2011
The Death of Shockingly Nonsense (and hopefully awful hairstyles)
Good evening men and gentlewomen, you're not welcome :)
So we couldnt decide on a title.
R.I.P Shockingly Nonsense, you will be forever missed.
Here's how it works. I am "That One", and I am henceforth recognised by Blue Font
The "Other One" is henceforth recognised by Red Font
Get over this general speaking. It is NO MORE. FORGET EVERYTHING YOU KNOW AND EVERYTHING YOU HAVEN'T KNOWN. YET. *insert dramatic orchestral suspence-inducing endpiece*
So, "That One", how do you feel about common issues in society?
Like rats tails?
Exactly, all problems in the world today result from a platted piece of hair.
Hi, I'm a rat's tail, I'm attractive and help pick up chicks. LOLjks I'm just a disgusting, lone dready hanging on desperately for dear existence onto the back of some bogans shaved, bleach-white head. Charming.
My boyfriend is getting one. We can't be seen in public anymore. MY LIFE IS FULL OF TEENAGE ANGST.
BOYfriend? boyfriend? I'll leave then. And go get a ratty. And cause the world even MORE problems. 'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby.
A common conundrum which has plagued philosphers for a thousand years:
mullet > ratty ?
ohHELLyes.
Attractiveness decreases -100% after the conception of a ratty. Science has proven. It was written in the bible. Didn't you ever wonder why God didn't have a ratty?
This is why I need your wise words, Other One, you make much sense to my confused, adolescent mind. The world has thus been explained. I have no more questions. I've got life SUSSED. I feel like this is a kool-aid-man moment. ohYEAH. Maybe with the conclusion of this topic it might be time to conclude this topic?
My knowledge hasn't felt this fulfilled since Rebecca Black told me Saturday comes after Friday. I felt like a hopeless, desolate child all these years, until that moment.
Glad :) *yawn* The time for departure has arrived. How contradictory...
Toodle-Ra!
So we couldnt decide on a title.
R.I.P Shockingly Nonsense, you will be forever missed.
Here's how it works. I am "That One", and I am henceforth recognised by Blue Font
The "Other One" is henceforth recognised by Red Font
Get over this general speaking. It is NO MORE. FORGET EVERYTHING YOU KNOW AND EVERYTHING YOU HAVEN'T KNOWN. YET. *insert dramatic orchestral suspence-inducing endpiece*
So, "That One", how do you feel about common issues in society?
Like rats tails?
Exactly, all problems in the world today result from a platted piece of hair.
Hi, I'm a rat's tail, I'm attractive and help pick up chicks. LOLjks I'm just a disgusting, lone dready hanging on desperately for dear existence onto the back of some bogans shaved, bleach-white head. Charming.
My boyfriend is getting one. We can't be seen in public anymore. MY LIFE IS FULL OF TEENAGE ANGST.
BOYfriend? boyfriend? I'll leave then. And go get a ratty. And cause the world even MORE problems. 'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby.
A common conundrum which has plagued philosphers for a thousand years:
mullet > ratty ?
ohHELLyes.
Attractiveness decreases -100% after the conception of a ratty. Science has proven. It was written in the bible. Didn't you ever wonder why God didn't have a ratty?
This is why I need your wise words, Other One, you make much sense to my confused, adolescent mind. The world has thus been explained. I have no more questions. I've got life SUSSED. I feel like this is a kool-aid-man moment. ohYEAH. Maybe with the conclusion of this topic it might be time to conclude this topic?
My knowledge hasn't felt this fulfilled since Rebecca Black told me Saturday comes after Friday. I felt like a hopeless, desolate child all these years, until that moment.
Glad :) *yawn* The time for departure has arrived. How contradictory...
Toodle-Ra!
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