BACKPACK KARAOKE

So Ive become an inventor. I am yet to make the prototype but have put in some research and found that it is very easily do-able.

I have invented 'Backpack Karaoke'.

Sounds exciting ey? Well just wait till I tell you what it all means!!!
Basically you get a backpack and inside it you put a small battery powered amplifier. Make some sort of hole in the backpack so the sound can get through no worries. To the amplifier you plug in an ipod (or any other mp3 player) full of karaoke cds. And a microphone of some sort. Make it so the ipod and the microphone both come out of the backpack so you can hold them in your pockets of you pants or jacket or something. Then you play a little karaoke tune on your ipod and sing the song. Its completely portable so you can do it ANYWHERE!

In a couple months time when I have finally built this thing expect to see me in the mall, on trains, at major sporting events and basically anywhere else I can be annoying/entertaining, performing my heart out. Im guessing I will probably be slightly drunk too as I will need it for courage. In which case dont tickle me.

PS. If you steal this idea before I have made it famous I will have your balls.

THE SEGWAY

Today in the mall there was a big shindig being thrown by some lottery company. I think it was the birthday of the lottery or something like that. They had a cake that apparently wieghed 190kg for some reason.It would have been boring and unentertaining if it wasnt for the use of one of the worlds most useless inventions.

The Segway.


I dont know what the hell they were thinking when they invented this thing but surely someone got fired over it. OR MAYBE NOT! Some companies are so stupid that they buy the things to use for thier promotions. Or maybe you can hire them, I should look into that.
Anyway there were 2 girls on these things trying to hand out some pamplet about the lottery. It was great cause they could hardly balance on the things with 2 hands, but they had to use the other hand to hand out the flyers. Comedy instilled. Lots of people were being scared off by the machines rocking back and forth whilst the poor girls tried thier hardest to hand out the flyers.
What was the lottery thinking? Not much I assume

Lottery guy1: No one ever takes our flyers!!
Lottery guy2: Hmm we need to make them more exiting
LG1: what if the people who were handing them out were swaying all over the place dangerously?
LG2: You mean if we got drunks to do it?
LG1: No, even better....SEGWAYS!!!!

*that may or may not have happened. I bet it did tho.

MY RECENT DREAMS

Ive had a few odd dreams lately that I thought I would share with you all. Maybe YOU can tell me what it all means. Wouldnt that just make you feel like a 'part' of it all. (note the well placed capital letters and quotation marks)

Dream 1:

I was in a very large queue for something with my housemate. It was on this bridge with an enclosure over it. Sorta like the tunnel you go through before gettin into an airplane. Anyway standing in front of us was some old man talking about some song he had written. When I asked what he was talking about he told us he was from Pink Floyd. I was very excited which is sorta unusual cause Im not a big Floyd fan, hell I liked Wish You Were Here when I was a teenager but ive never really got that into them...anyway I asked what his name was and because I couldnt remember his name it seemed neither could my subconscious cause he moved his mouth but no sound came out. It was very frustrating.

Dream 2: This one was like some sort of horror movie. For some reason I kept turning up to meetings of strange monks whilst they were praying or chanting or something. It was usually outside and on big stone things. After they had been chanting for about 2 minutes a group of men would appear out of no where and chop them to bits with huge axes. It was horrible and very realistic. My subconscious would be a great director for a blockbuster. This kept on repeating in different locations for what seemed like most of the night. I even woke up at one point realising it was all a dream and thinking 'man, i gotta not dream about that no more' went back to sleep and the dreams continued.

Dream 3: Have you all seen 'Being John Malkovich' or however you spell his last name...well this dream was like that but instead of going into Jonny Ms head it was a time travel machine. I could pick any decade I wanted to go to and go live there. I was very excited and shouted 'THE 60s!!!!'.
I think I was planning to go and live with the Beatles and shoot pool with Bob Dylan. Anyway I jumped into this tube with my arms out in front of me like a diver and start on a journey through this huge black plastic tunnel. After a while I kept gettin stuck and eventually moved my arms down by my side so I was just going head first, I started to move really fast and got a bit scared. I went through this tunnel for ages and ages and I think I eventually woke up. When I woke up I thought I had arrived in the 60s and was ever so happy. I looked around the room thinking things had changed, 'looks so old timey' I thought. Then as I became more awake I realised that I was just in a regular 2000's bedroom. Oh my I was disappointed. I didnt travel through time at all.


So then, what does it all mean....?

HOW TO BEAT THE PHONE SALESMAN PERSON

doggone overseas phone companies give me the willies!

They call you up and want you to change to some strange phone company that I aint ever heard of and they cant even hear you over thiner crappy phone line. Yeah I wanna change to their fabulous service.

Its also very hard to get rid of them too, or so I thought until the other day when one of them called my house and I was in a scampy mood.

They called us asking for my housemate who the phones name is in. He dont like his name to be mentioned for some reason so lets call my housemate Mr Dick.

Overseas phone operator (very crackly line and heavy accent): Hello, is that Mr Dick?
Me (very hunky and smoothly spoken, like chocolate milk pouring through a mountain stream): No he isnt home
Phone guy: Oh are you a relation to him?
Me: Relation? Oh yes we have relations with each other
Phone bozo: Oh good. Now are you on broadband or dial up internet?
Me: What are you asking me?
Phoney: Are you on broadband or dialup internet at your house there sir?
Me: Broads? Oh yes we have lots of broads here, all kinds of them. Do you want to speak to the broads?
Phone dude: No thankyou sir, have a nice day!

And he hung up on me! I pissed him off and he hung up on me! A triumph!

Now I wait patiently for the next door knocker to come by, they are gonna get some fun!

THE INNER SOUTH OF ADELAIDE

About a year ago I moved into the inner South side of Adelaide. Having spent most of my early years on the West side and most of my teens on the East side I thought the Inner south would be a nice mix of both. WRONG!!!! WRRRRRUGGGG!

The inner south sucks balls! I am living in the Unley area (I wont specify cause I have enough stalkers already thank you very much) and the people here are jerks! Take a walk down King William road for example and you will be disgusted! In the East the richies are all old and relatively harmless, but here the richies are all young up and comers that are out to screw you over anyway they can. I know, I can see it in their horrible clothes covered in some sort of scented mucus.

And whats with paving the fuking streets!? King William road has pavers all over it so when you drive down the street you think that your tires are going flat or something. Sounds like a damn airplane. Maybe it sounds bloody brilliant in a Rav4 or whatever 4wd those chumps like to drive around.

But the worst thing of all the street crime.

Last night some jerk drove into my housemates car parked on the street. And just drove off into the night, probably back to his jacoozie filled with praline and dick.
And about a month ago some hoodlums smashed the windscreen of my other housemates car. Why attack the crummiest car on the street? you got something against crummy cars inner south!? HUH!

I tell ya. You wouldnt get this sorta shit on the West side. what a side of town that is!

Unusual Fears

Im gonna start off by saying that yes I am a wuss and yes I am scared of spiders. They are horrible creatures spawned by the devil.

But its not that odd or interesting to be scared of spiders. Lots of people are, some much more than me. This one is about 'unusual fears'. For me my unusual fear is people with big frizzy hair being near me.

Its not that I am scared of hair, If i find a hair on me I usually dont care about it brush it off and move on with my life, but if I am seated near or standing near someone in a confined space who has big/long frizzy hair which looks like its gonna fly away any minute I feel gross and cant pay attention to anything other than their horrible hair.

I mean its quite disgusting to have hair that looks like it will attack passers by. Do something about it you ugly ugly people.

One of my friends has an unusual fear in that he is scared of ears. Or at least he is completely repulsed by them. He will become upset if you touch your ear around him or do anything that causes him to look at them. He is often seen sporting a hairdo that covers his ears up. I guess they are pretty weird lookin things but so are noses and arseholes.

The most entertaining fear that I have come across is my housemates fear of buttons. She is frightened to death of them. They make her dry wretch on occasion. Even the word scares her. I dont remember the story as to why she was scared of buttons in the first place but it happened at a young age and Im assuming it was something to do with her disgusting toilet habits.

One day I was in a video store and she was shutting down all of my suggestions on what to hire. So I asked her if we could hire this, she turned around and i licked my shirt button in front of her. She went completely white and looked like she was going to spew right there and then.

It was the greatest day of my life.

The Snorkle

On Saturday night I headed out to see some bands. Just another night out on the weekend I thought. Just another night watching people do things and having a few quiet beers to aid my enjoyment of them. Just a nice night out on the town. Nothing to worry about at all.

That was before I got Snorkled.

'Snorkled?' you ask my dear reader. Well let me explain to you what a Snorkle is.

Basically you get a straw, bend it close to the end, burn a small hole in the bend and put it a bottle. Put the burnt hole in your mouth and cover the bottle top with your mouth also. But make sure the original end of the straw is poking out of your mouth so that you have a 'snorkle' to bring in the air from the outside of the bottle.

Make sense? Anyway then you tip the bottle up and pour it into your mouth. Somehow due to the wonders of science the bottle will empty into your mouth in roughly 2-5 seconds. Meaning you have to gulp that fucker as fast as you can to avoid it pouring all over you.

Now I will explain how this party trick cause my demise.

After having a few quiet beers maybe 3-4 the publican of this bar asked me if I wanted to have a snorkle. As an important member of the entertainment industry I have many publicans trying to bribe me with gifts so I frequent their pub more, this place was no exception. The publican, who we shall call 'Curly' from now on, proceded to create the snorkel from me with a bottle of some smirnoff mixer (a slapper drink). He did it, then I did.

I felt like the bottle had raped me. It pretty much squirted into my stomach like some sort of torpedo. It made me shaky and dizzy. About 5 minutes later the sugar and booze hit and I was quite drunk but also full of loads of sugar and thus became rowdy.

I then did my usual running around ranting at whomever will listen, basically being the life of any party. I proceeded to have several more beers before the idea of snorkling was brought up again. By this stage I was too drunk to think straight and decided it to be the best suggestion ever made. I went and did another one with another publican and felt amazing. This time a crowd had drawn together of people wanting to see the spectacle. People were amazed and cheering. I wanted everyone to do it and started chanting SNORKLE SNORKLE, like some sort of excited scuba diver.

Soon more people had done them and I needed to do another one. This time it was a smirnoff black. The strongest of all these lolly waters. Snorkled.

I was fucked. I no longer made sense as I berrated people until they snorkled, leaving them shell shocked as I moved onto another person to rape with a beverage. One of my sober friends decribed to me the next day that anyone who had had a snorkle made little sense and would just talk non-stop in a very nonsensical manner. I assume I was like this, TO THE EXTREME!

And somewhere in that last snorkle was a one way ticket to spew central. And I had caught the express.

I got taken out of there and driven home. It was bad. I had to get my lady to pull over about 4 times to spew on the side of the road. The most memorable one being on greenhill road leaning over a wire fence while my lady laughed at my shouting vomit spray. I got home and spewed again. Im not really sure how many times. But it was horrible. So many wasted snorkles in a bucket.

My housemate told me of how he was woken up by my loud shouting which I apperently do as the spew is flying out of my mouth. Pretty talented I would say.

Everyone should snorkle at least once in thier life, but maybe not 3 times in one night.