clappamungus: (Default)
As you all know, I've been performing Operation: Get In Early recently. I did hit a snag with this yesterday, and almost did today as well. However, apart from those little hiccups, it has gone relatively smoothly. I just need to start winding back my clock so I actually get to bed at a decent hour, to ensure that when I wake up before the sun's arisen I actually a) get out of bed rather than hitting "snooze"; and b) that I don't feel/look like this.

However, I am remembering what made public transport so shit, as [ profile] vivienne_aster alluded to.

a) If you miss your good earlier train with few people on it, you end up sharing your personal space with other people's morning faces, not to mention their smelly armpits.

b) On that note, you sometimes run into *GAH* schoolchildren. On the outbound journey, my carriage was set upon by obnoxious, loud, freaking irritating teenagers. I overheard one sweet lass manage to fit the expression "like, oh-my-god" into her speech three times before she took a breath. I was jostled by oversized backpacks. I saw what passes for "fashionable haricuts" these days. Fucking hell, I hate emos. If the power of a screeching giggle is ever harnessed and used in the electrical grid, I could have collected enough in that 15 minute trip to power Australia for the next few generations.

This is a good reason for getting a vasectomy. If I ever spawn something like this, I'll drown myself in a bucket.

However, on a good note, I have been much more productive today. See? There's always a non-rant.
clappamungus: (Douse)
It's a bit tragic that I'm only hearing about The CHK-CHK-BOOM! girl just now, isn't it?

I suppose I don't really watch the news anymore. Though that's probably because what passes for news these days would make The National Enquirer look like a quality rag.

And, incidentally, this is why I hate bogans.

Correction: I hate media-savvy bogans.
clappamungus: (Hug?)
Today, I drove to band practise in Hallam (for Lord Mouth, not Left of Crazy. Oh yeah, the metal band is now called Lord Mouth. I like it; blow me if you don't). Anyway, I made sure I got out of the house early. Early enough to swing by my local café and get a flat white, and yet still be able to drive into Hallam on time.


As I pulled onto the freeway onramp just past Chadstone (big mall, for those of you not from Oz), what should have been relatively smooth sailing on the freeway was all of a sudden halted by a big fuck-off wall of traffic. Kinda like this:
Traffic jam of DOOM

I know it's not that easy to see the big line of traffic disappearing off into the horizon, but trust me, it's there. This photo was taken after I'd already been incrementally inching forward, in fits and starts, my clutch really not liking these little movements forward, for quite some time. The first time I've regretted buying a manual car...

And, of course, I couldn't back out of the freeway entrance. So I had to wait.

And wait.

And wait some fucking more.

This is on a Sunday morning, mind you. This is also after I made sure I would get to Hallam early.

I waited a hell of a long time, getting (as you can imagine) angrier and angrier by the passing nanosecond, as traffic inched forward and people ducked and weaved (or crept and crawled) into and out of lanes and refused to let other people in.

After about twenty minutes, I saw what was causing this ridiculous Sunday morning traffic jam:


They were funnelling THREE FOUR FUCKING LANES ON A FREEWAY INTO ONE. And you can tell on the sign that it's not done too many times, as the third contemptuous "NO LANE" sign has been added on rather amateurishly.

I could not believe it. Of all the goddamned bone-headed things to do. Why they couldn't close down two at the most, work on that bit of road, then close the other two off is utterly beyond me. It took all I had in me to not roll down my window as I passed the moronic road workers, all stereotypically lounging around on their bit of blocked-off bitumen, and yell a few choice words about them being over-unionised fucktarded cockspanks etc etc...

You know what made it even worse? After it was too late to do anything about, I turned on the radio and caught a traffic report, which helpfully informed me of this: "...traffic is banked up all along the Monash Freeway due to roadworks, so please choose an alternate route."

GAH...guess I'll be listening to traffic reports from now on.

Yeah, I'm still cranky about it. I'm an elephant. No, fuck that: I'm a hate camel. And my hate hump has been filled; should last me a long time.

Oh yeah, and of course I was ridiculously late for band practise. My plans are foiled YET AGAIN. I hate you, Murphy.
clappamungus: (Kill Him!)
I've been avoiding the TV and print news because of the bushfire coverage. Not because I don't care - I do. The enormity of it hit me today. I'd been hearing the body count rising and somehow I didn't actually realise what it meant.

The official toll is over 170. The unofficial toll is twice that.

And all the while, as the fires keep on burning, the media machine keeps on rolling.

They poke their intrusive cameras into people's relief at finding their loved ones. People crying as they tell us they've lost family members and friends. They ask stupid questions like "how does it feel?" They drag out the agony for these people, feasting on every drop of anguish, knowing that it translates into ratings. They use hyperbolic language to describe something that's already unable to be exaggerated. They show photos of the dead and presumed dead, and ask those worried family members the most personal questions. They catch all the tears on camera, record every last sob.

The print media run "Special Editions" entitled "Victoria's Blackest Day".

The dark glee underneath it all makes me sick.


I do feel utter admiration for those unbelievably brave people who are out there fighting these fires. And people like a good friend who's working with the air ambulance officers.

And I wish there was something I could do.

Thanks, [ profile] insomnius, for posting that information about donations and the like.
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Sometimes, I wonder if people can read.

Article under the cut as well. )

Yes, ok, it offended your Christian sensibilities. Yes, it was immature subject matter. However, there was a warning sign outside the gallery. If you're offended by Jesus with a cock, why did you go and see the exhibition? Other people don't share your offense. And, actually, there have been artworks (of a sort) that depicted Mohammed in an unflattering light. That isn't the fucking issue here. Why do these dopey God-botherers decide that it's a pissing contest between artists and their ability to take the mickey out of various religions??? I actually doubt if this artist's aim was to piss off Christians specifically - I just think he's obsessed with erect penises. Note that he also put them on Mickey Mouse. Do you see Disney suing Koh? No. So get some perspective, you fucking twat.

Maybe I should sue all the Creationist museums for offending my sense of sanity. Yes, I know these two are not (necessarily) linked, but my mind works on tangents like that.

EDIT As a sign of how annoyed I am about this, I've had to edit this post about five times due to typos and layout mess-ups.
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Olympics,

Fuck off and die. I'm sick to death of hearing about you.

No love in the slightest,
[ profile] clappamungus

Seriously, the next person who engages me in conversation about the goddamn Olympics will find their head shoved somewhere into a dark, warm place that smells like what they ate for breakfast, only older and more rotten.

I don't care about Stephanie Rice being our new "Golden Girl", nor do I care about medal tallies, and I certainly haven't watched a minute of it. Yet, everywhere I go, there it is. People crapping on about it. People stealing my newspaper so they can read the liftout. I've started to say "no, sorry, I left the liftout at home" just so I can see the looks on their faces. it's like I just strangled a kitten in front of them.

Yes, I'm a misanthrope. Yes, I'm anti-jingoism. Yes, I'm bitter and twisted.

No, I don't really care.

I'll be so glad when this goddamn farce is over.


Aug. 4th, 2008 01:56 pm
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
I really hate the terms "kvlt" and "trve/tr00" when they're not used sarcastically or scornfully.

The fact that so many metalheads use them seriously as a badge of honour makes me want to strangle them with guitar strings.

Take your "80's thrash was the gr8est moosic evar and all else is crap!" mantra and shove it up your fucking arses, you goddamn morons.
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
If this were to happen anywhere in would have to happen in South Australia.

Sick, twisted, fucked up....any other adjectives???
clappamungus: (Douse)
From [ profile] useless_facts

I shudder.

I love some of the comments in the abovementioned comm as well.

"Meh meh meh personal preference don't h8 somefink u don't understand waaaah."

You serious? If some tard decides that she wants to look like someone's worst goddamn nightmare, it all of a sudden means that we can't point out that she's, in our humble opinions, a little fucked in the head???

I should really leave that comm. Or troll the fuck out of it.
clappamungus: (Dream Theater)
Guess which one is which. Duh.

Jupiter's moon Io causes an aurora borealis kind of luminescence on Jupiter's face as the planet spins.

Apparently, "A Current Affair" is not into factual reporting. Really? No shit. You could have knocked me down with a feather.

If you use Firefox, you can add this little gem of a program.
I am not going to yet, because I don't need another reason not to be productive. I just thought I would, in the words of Bill Hicks, "plant some seeds. You try. You do what you can. Kill yourselves." Ooops, that was supposed to be in my subliminal message post.

Oh yeah, and this unseasonal heat (although I'm now told that it's passed) can go fuck itself. Because of it, I got the worst night's sleep ever, which is why I'm yawning my head off now.
clappamungus: (Douse)

Luigi Vitale, one of the oafish boors presumed-innocent men in the party "allegedly" involved in the death of Diane Brimble on that infamous P&O cruise in 2002.

Well, the defence of the AWB head honchos and our Foreign Minister of 'I don't know' worked well enough, I suppose.

My god, I hope those wastes of life get done for a very long time, eventually (considering that this is just the inquest, I imagine the trial, if there is one, will take a bloody age). I'll be happy when they're being arse-raped in the penitentiary showers.


clappamungus: (Default)

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