Fatuous

Devil

2008-07-26T14:25:00.003+10:00

Pull my dick mate get fucked

2008-06-04T22:53:00.002+10:00

Traditional Aussie drinking game that dates back to the early 1800's.

Four Drawings and a Photo

2008-05-18T10:47:00.004+10:00

Don’t chuck Norris Park tag: residents

2008-03-25T14:53:00.002+11:00

Don’t chuck Norris Park tag: residents
BRAD WORRALL
(Source: Border Mail)

FORGET the Cumberoona or Lake Hume, a suburban sign is staking a claim as Albury’s most popular tourist attraction.
Yesterday carloads of tourists and residents made the trek to “Chuck” Norris Park, some posed for photos others just wanting to see what all the fuss was about.

The US action hero has become the talk of the town after a better than average piece of graffiti appeared at the weekend on the sign at the corner of Union and Burrows roads.

The suburb, formerly known as Norris Park, was rebadged on Good Friday.

Using the same font as the suburban sign a “Chuck” was added as was a silhouette of the martial arts TV star of Walker Texas Ranger and the phrase “keep on chuckin’”.

Insiders say it is a professional job, much more effective than similar vandalism which occurred in 2004 where “Chuck” was spraypainted on a sign in front of the words Norris Park.

Darren Wright lives directly behind the sign and says it is the best thing that has happened at the intersection.

But as a self-confessed Chuck Norris fan he says it wasn’t him.

“Normally cars fly through this roundabout but this has been the quietest weekend I can remember,” Mr Wright said.

“Since the sign appeared cars slow down, people stop, we must have had about 100 carloads of people pull here in the past few days.

“In the past there have been pretty ordinary attempts with a spray can but this must have been done by a signwriter.”

Travis Lafferty, 26, pulled up with a mate to take a picture of the sign.

“Maybe they should just rename Norris Park and be done with it,” he said.

The sentiment is not uncommon in the suburb named after a miner.

Craig Campbell lives two doors from the corner and he agrees.

“It certainly has created some interest over the weekend,” he said.

“You just have to watch the cars slow down as they go through the roundabout everyone turns to have a look.”

Viv Cummins has lived near the sign for the past seven years.

She too is a fan of the pop culture hero but denies any involvement.

“In the past the attempts have been tacky but this is a professional job,” she said.

“It is a bit of fun and has everyone in the neighbourhood talking, perhaps they should leave it as it is.”

The Church of Nuclear Psychadelic Jihad

2008-03-04T12:03:00.001+11:00

Restaurant Review: Jinnah's Rapist Cuisine

2008-02-29T08:37:00.002+11:00

Okay, it's not really for Rapists. But if you take the word PAKISTANI and add a line to the P and modify the K and cross out the ANI you get RAPIST. And I heard a rumour that the previous owner had to sell up because he was going to jail on rape charges.

We had been put on a table in the corner. The two tables weren't quite the same height. And the chairs were TINY. And uncomfortable. There were two types of chairs in the restaurants, the small ones we were on and big comfortable-looking ones. Sitting on those tiny chairs, drinking from an oversized wine glass, I had flashbacks to being a child at Christmas sitting at the children's table. At least there was always less fighting at the kid's table.

Entrees were pretty good, the naan was probably the best I've ever had. We ordered mains and the owner forcefully suggested that we should order more food. We said it was okay, and then he told us we were wasting his time and stormed back into the kitchen. Probably to contaminate our food.

The restaurant was empty apart from one other family, who the wait staff seemed to hover around all night. We sat in a blind spot in the corner, under the TV. If WE wanted service we had to stand up and wave our arms around for a while. It was fun, kind of like being on a desert island and signalling frantically whenever you spot a plane or a boat on the horizon. Just like an episode of LOST.

A note about the TV. We were sitting directly underneath it, which was good, because we weren't forced to watch it. Whenever I craned my neck up I was treated to some full-on medical procedure on RPA. I didn't know you could cut a solid slab of fat out of someone's abdomen like that and stitch it up again. And it was a BIG slab. At least 10 kilograms.

The owner did come over and turn the TV off, once RPA had finished. We finished our meals, ordered dessert, which were also quite good, and while we were eating the owner turned off the light directly above our table. It was 9:30. The menus, which were printed up like newspapers, clearly said on the front "ALWAYS OPENS" (yes "opens").

The restaurant was BYO only. My understanding of how most restaurant survive is that they lose money on the food and make up for it selling grog. I don't know if they didn't have a liquor license on religious or cultural grounds, or what - but they should get one. Drunk people make bad decisions and buy more food. Sober people eat just enough to satisfy their hunger.

Although inattentive and "relaxed" (ie slow) the wait staff were very friendly. The mains were very good, and the daal was excellent. The prices were quite reasonable. It was a quiet, although uncomfortable dining experience. The restaurant itself was very elegant. Unfortunately the owner is going to send himself out of business - although he was friendly to us later his angry comments makes me never want to go back. No wonder it was so quiet.

I like to watch traumatic surgical procedures while I eat, and Jinnah's didn't disappoint.

We Regret to Inform You That You May Already Be a Winner!

2008-01-31T09:54:00.000+11:00

Dear Valued Fatuous Reader,

It is with sincere regret that we inform you that you may already be a winner of the Fatuous Sweepstakes CASH Prize. By reading this your IP address has been logged and you will go into the draw to win a MASSIVE CASH PRIZE!

Can you image how up to ONE MILLION DOLLARS could change your life?

At first you will feel disbelief when you realise that YOU are the WINNER. Then you will experience a rush of euphoria, which may last for several days. You will become increasingly distracted as you obsessively think about all the things you could spend that money on. Your productivity will plummet and you may even lose the will to work.

The media, such as local newspapers, will harass you persistently. You will bear the burden of instant SUPERSTARDOM.

They will ask you questions such as

what you were like before you were rich
how it feels to be a winner
what you will do with your new found fame and fortune
what type of toilet paper you use
what will you do with all that money

The late night telephone calls and media circus surrounding your house will push you to breaking point, and beyond. Then when you are finally used to the attention the media will have moved on, leaving you out of the warm glow of the spotlight.

Sad and confused, you will being making a series of foolish purchases in a bid to buy the love of friends and strangers. Your extravagant spending will draw the ire of charitable organisations and you will be seen as arrogant and shallow.

As even more time passes you will alienate your friends because of your IMMENSE WEALTH and you will find yourself surrounded by sycophants that are only interested in your money.

You may one day fall in love with someone. They will claim that they don't care about your money, they truly love you. You in turn love them, your one true friend and lover in a sea of posers. You will have a beautiful, extravagant wedding that your old friends and family will begrudgingly attend. They will all leave straight after the speeches.

You will go on a honeymoon, and upon your return your lover will inform you that they've been cheating on you with your best friend, and are filing for divorce. This will leave you heart-broken and poor.

You will be totally alone in the world. No one will forgive you for your earlier arrogance. People will believe that you got what you deserve. You apply for your old job only be told that you have been replaced by a computer program.

You will drink yourself to sleep every night, slowly poisoning yourself. You will begin to feel sick every day. The emotional and physical pain will become so unbearable that you will finally summon up all your strength and willpower and throw yourself off the roof of your apartment block.

You will survive the fall but you will be completely paralysed. You will be forced to stay alive in a dirty, cockroach infested nursing home, cared for by orderlies that spit on you when no one's looking. Unable to move and unable to feel anything but pain, you will live for another 20 years until you choke on your own vomit caused from fecal contamination of your bland mush. When you realise that you are dying you will experience for a brief moment the disbelief and then euphoria that you felt when you first realised YOU WON.

The terrible burden of being a winner could already be upon you! If your IP address is selected at random this horrible fate COULD BE YOURS.

Start checking your email now, Fatuous will be contacting you in the next few weeks to deliver the crushing news that YOU ARE A WINNER!

Search 'n' Seizure

2008-01-26T02:03:00.000+11:00

This goes out to anyone unfortunate enough to have attended yesterday's big day out event in Sydney.

PEANUTS

It was late in the summer of twenty oh eight
standing in line about a mile from the gate
I saw a drug bus pull up so I gobbed my stash
and tried to blend in with the rest of the white trash
well I accidentally swallowed I was trying not to choke
on the twelve tabs of acid and the 8-ball of coke
I was feeling a bit odd so I lit up a joint
when this dog scampered over and started to point

Well I used to love peanuts way back when
snoopy was just a beagle
But now snoopy's got a cop and the cop's got a gun
and they say they smell something illegal

I said "cops are tops, there are way too few
Y'know, haven't you got something better to do?
isn't there some place else you could go?
I'm just waiting here to get into the show"
well the dog looked up at me and said with a smile
"Hepped up on goofballs! You're off your fucking dial"
or something like that I couldn't really understand
but the next thing I knew that cop bit me on the hand

Well I used to love peanuts way back when
snoopy was just a beagle
but now snoopy's got a gun and the cop's got a bone
and they say I did something illegal

Was it the barking cop or the talking dog?
or like the drugs, were they were all just doing their job?
I put my version of events on a square of blotter paper
and woke up in hospital thirteen days later
now listen here kids if you want my advice
when you see a policeman just act nice
never store your stash on the inside of your mouth
and stay the hell away from the big day out

The Chinese Zodiac

2008-01-17T12:03:00.000+11:00

I was born in the year of the goat, and a girl I know was born in the year of the pig.

Now certain "voices" are trying to tell me that I was born in the year of the "ram" and that my (admittedly not that ugly) friend was born in the year of the "boar". Well I don't want to be a ram and my friend doesn't want to be a boar. No way Mr. Sing. Screw you, your fortune cookie and your crappy placemat. We were happy just being the laid back farm animals that we were before.

Is this a case of political correctness gone mad? A mix up at the lab? Poor translation? An interracial/interstellar trans-gender revisionist conspiracy against the gwailo?

I must know the truth.

Merry Lobster

2007-12-24T15:41:00.001+11:00

...and a very fatuous new year!

Comparative Religion

2007-12-07T11:47:00.000+11:00

If you love something, set it free.

2007-12-03T22:13:00.000+11:00

"If you love something set it free, if it comes back to you it's yours, if not it never was".

It's a popular saying but not always practical advice. For instance, I loved a rabies-infected dingo.

The place I set it free was a kindergarten. There were some interesting finger-paintings that day. Mainly due to the blood. Oh so much blood.

In a sense, that dingo did come back to me. When the police finally arrived they shot the shit out of it and brought me the carcass to dispose of. It was very upsetting - I loved that crazy thing. And I'd just seen several infants savagely bitten to death.

The other sense in which it came back was less physical. It's still with me today - law suits, class actions, fines, restraining orders and medication. It lives on not only through my memories but also in my dreams. In that sense my beloved dingo will always be with me.

Good night, sweet prince.

Welcome to Monday

2007-12-03T12:07:00.001+11:00

So here we all are again, doing what we do, wondering what it's all about and inevitably in some kind of pattern. Whether its working for the man, waking up from the 5th hangover this week, or trying to get motivated enough to do whatever it is you do on a Monday... here we all are again.

And then all of a sudden something happens that shifts your perspective. Sometimes it's subtle like a personal epiphany when looking into an intricate and beautiful flower, and sometimes its not, like when you get hit by a car. Either way, you start to wonder why you are, where you are and whether you've been there for too long.

Part of this perspective is the realization that, if there is an omnipotent force guiding the direction of your life, that force has designed the entire universe to fuck you up. Starting with the very fabric of the cosmos, this all-knowing prick has woven a tapestry of death to ensure that any life that does occur is doomed to fail. Black holes dominate the universe and the vast majority of the rest of it is scorched and frozen into submission. The tiny, amazingly irrelevant areas where the right conditions exist for life are tempered by constant bombardment of radiation and rocks continually resetting these small remnants of life into cosmic retardation.

If that wasn't enough, sentient life is then vexed with the cruel and competitive chaos of evolution, forcing it to remain on-gaurd at all times lest it falls victim to its neighbors ever increasing advantages. The biological arms race continues pitting everyone against everyone vying for a niche on the unstable, irrelevant rock they inhabit.

It's of little consequence when the super-monkeys begin to assert their intellectual dominance on their rock, Earth. For while it is somewhat protected by big brother Jupiter and big sister Saturn's big fat gravity shield, the planet flips between extreme climates periodically plunging its inhabitants between ice-ages and scorching droughts like some kind of divine joke. The weakened survivors are forced to regroup and rebuild.

But wait, there's more! The super-monkey's don't get the joke at all. So enamored are they that they begin to believe the omnipotent sky-father has a favorite group of super-monkeys and has been trying (in vain no less) to smite ethnic monkey groups, thereby delivering the promised rock to the deserved group of super-monkeys. Despite being of the same genetic and mythological descent the monkeys are hardwired to fuck each others shit up.

Because everyone and everything is intelligently designed to fuck each others shit up, the super-monkeys turned to technology to help. Vehicles, industry, personal weaponry and energy go some way to stemming the tide of death. That is, until you get hit by a car, crushed by an industrial robot, capped in a drive-by or electrocuted trying to fish your toast out with a fork.

Then one day you wake up, and someone or something is fucking with your shit again, and you get the joke. In fact, it makes you laugh... big whooping, full belly laughs of recognition as you look into the eyes of universe on Monday morning and you don't twitch. You feel connected, as one with the star dust of the ages - you take that wager, and grin. "Bring it on".

I'm still alive, despite indications from the universe that perhaps I should not be.

2007-12-03T09:05:00.001+11:00

I got a lift home yesterday. About 3 minutes after getting in the car, the driver of the car I was in ran a red and we got hit by another car. It wasn't a big crash and everyone was okay.

I was in the rear pasenger seat, in the door where the impact happened. I didn't even know what was happening until an instant before the collision, when I thought "there shouldn't be a car there".

Things like this make me tend to appreciate the fact that I'm alive and well, walking around, and not in a hospital bed with a breathing tube down my throat and a catheter in my dick.

Was it a message from God? Or the Universe?

I think it might be - and I've got a message for the God/Universe - FUCK YOU. Come and get me. As long as it doesn't involve tubes in sensitive areas, I'M WAITING, PUSSY.

In other news, I am quitting smoking today, fulfilling my fatuous claim that I would give up the instant that John Howard lost the seat of Bennelong. Today Howard will officially lose his seat, and I will officially quit. I'll keep you posted. If I haven't chewed off my own arms, or been smite by God for my goading.

Teacher gets Whipped for Poor Choice of Teddy Bear Name

2007-12-01T10:39:00.000+11:00

A British teacher in Sudan, Gillian Gibbons, let her students name the class teddy bear, the students call the bear 'Muhammed'; Islamic hilarity ensues.

Something hasn't sat quite right with me with this whole story.

The incident happened at Unity High School. And the students were 7 years old. They must be some smart students. A little too smart if you ask me. The students conspire together to name the bear 'Muhammed', tell the authorities and BAM jail time for teacher. That's got to be a few days out of work, and now they don't have to write some stupid diary entry for the bear.

So we've got an entire class of 7 year old who have somehow been fast-tracked to high-school, and now they've been set the mundane task of writing diary entries for an inanimate object.

It would be easy to blame the students - as it is clearly their fault - and suggest that all the whipping and jail time be divided equally amongst the class. But I think there's something else going on.

Via the Fatuous network I've managed to obtain a student's diary entry in the days leading up to Ms Gibbon's arrest:

T +1 hrs : Muhammed continues to sit lifelessly, it's beady dead eyes starting at the ceiling.

T +2 hrs : Muhammed has not moved

T +3 hrs : I was in the other room and heard a bang, when I came in to check on Muhammed all the spoons had been removed from the kitchen table. Muhammed apparently had not moved. I went looking for the spoons and when I returned they were back on the kitchen table. Muhammed seemed to be smiling.

T +6 hrs : Muhammed has not moved, though his eyes follow me. I feel them burrowing into my soul and it sends cold shivers up my spine.

T +8 hrs: Still no movement from Muhammed. I think I heard him whisper something, but it was like the whisper was coming from inside my head.

T +14 hrs: In the early morning I was drifting in and out of a troubled sleep, dark silhouettes of bears floating around the room. I could smell and taste blood. My head was heavy, and my skull felt like it was full of a thick, viscous liquid. Muhammed's voice was quite clear. My brains have turned to honey and he was telling me over and over again to break open my skull, letting the honey pour over him, which would increase his power.

He also asked that if it wasn't too much trouble I should violently slaughter that bitch Ms Gibbons, which seems like a bit of a shame because she's a pretty cool teacher.

T +15 hrs: I'm glad this stupid assignment is over, this bear is really giving me the shits. Prophet indeed.

Who knows how deep Muhammed psychotic influence extends? Where is Muhammed right now? He could be sitting right behind me, feeding me ideas. No one is safe. Especially not that bitch Ms Gibbons.

Mickey Feio

2007-11-06T18:41:00.000+11:00

Submitted to http://mickeyfeio.wordpress.com/ - I have no idea if it'll be accepted, as it seems to be a Portuguese only blog. I suppose it'll be okay, a picture speaks a thousand words in a thousand different languages.

I've always hated Mickey Mouse. What a prick. He might be all smooth lines and nice colours on the outside, but this is what his soul looks like. Acceptance is the first step to recovery (after denial).

The Debate Debate

2007-10-19T09:03:00.001+10:00

Cast Your Vote 2007

2007-10-18T17:28:00.000+10:00

Don't be fatuous about policitics - remember to vote!

Happy Birthday Dirt Unit!

2007-10-16T00:15:00.000+10:00

Its a true friend who shares their art with you, a special thought made just for and about you. A warm fatuous birthday wish for you on your alleged birthday!

Time For a New Forum Avatar

2007-09-30T17:07:00.000+10:00

Fatuity in the Park

2007-09-23T12:39:00.000+10:00

The Rusty Conspiracy

2007-09-19T15:53:00.000+10:00

Who seems to know a little TOO much about world events? Who always seems to have inside information? Who is always ready to put a sinister spin on events that seem straightforward? Who subtly spreads doubt in the minds of the innocent?

The WTC... Kurt Cobain... Steve Irwin... the Amalgamated Tin Foil Conglomerate...

RUSTY IS BEHIND THEM ALL! We're through the looking-glass here people.

Troy's Water Cooler Conversation (in Water Colour)

2007-09-17T12:16:00.001+10:00

The Weight of the World

2007-09-11T19:34:00.000+10:00

I am not afraid of Terrorism.

I don't want you to donate anything, I don't want you to sponsor anything. I don't want you to revolt. I don't want you to buy anything. I don't want you to visit a website or forward an email.

I just want you to care.

References
http://www.tkb.org/chwiz4.jsp
http://www.antiwar.com/casualties/
http://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=62218
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs310/en/index2.html
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs310/en/index.html
http://www.fbi.gov/ucr/05cius/offenses/expanded_information/data/shrtable_07.html

Photos
http://www.plime.com/science/health/l/27444/1/
http://www.geradts.com/anil/ij/vol_006_no_002/papers/paper003/1.jpg
http://aedv.cs.tu-berlin.de/~brandeis/Bilder/measlesl.jpg
http://www.awn.com/heaven_and_hell/IMAGES/tim2.gif
http://www.columbineanniversary.com/columbinecafeteriashooting.jpg
http://www.egothemag.com/archives/images/hiv_main.jpg
http://www.sxlist.com/images/member/jmn-efp-786/war/Child%20of%20Baghdad.jpg
http://www.acsu.buffalo.edu/~lcscott/neuroblastoma.JPG
http://www.insurancebroadcasting.com/053006-p5.jpg
http://www.defenselink.mil/dodcmsshare/newsphoto%5C2004-12%5C041222-D-7433T-005.jpg
http://www.alarmingnews.com/archives/Twin-Towers-Reflected_1.jpg

Music by Dylan O'Donnell
[CC] Download for Free
http://www.dylan.dragnet.com.au/TheEnd.mp

APEC Public Holiday

2007-09-06T14:54:00.000+10:00

If you work in the Sydney metropolitan area, tomorrow is a public holiday.