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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

It is seriously time for me to get a haircut.




It's true, there are YouTube videos on how to get my exact hairstyle that I wake up with in the morning, which makes me laugh.  But I am what I am.  A tangled, messy, messy longhaired messy haired person.

When it is time for me to finally be bothered to visit the hairdresser's, it is usually because of oh-so-subtle messages from the universe.

Like this afternoon, when I shut my hair in the car door and leaned forward to grab a CD from the CD player...

Orrrr.. the oh so subtle moment when I went to flick my hair over my jacket (Zara of course, Dahlinks!) and my fingers got caught in my hair and then I nearly scalped myself.

Or the other night, while peacefully slumbering (well, I was snoring like a herd of banshees so I assume I was peaceful.  I can't attest to anyone else's experience)...  Anyway, I was slumbering (which as a word kind of sounds like some kind of hippo, or is that just me?)...

ANYWAY...

I turned over to tuck my arm underneath my pillow and behind my head, as I always do.  Unfortunately I had grabbed a huge fistful of hair and somehow the turning motion allowed the hair to twist around my neck like a noose that got tighter as I moved my head.

I woke up pretty quickly after that one.

Sooo, it's time for me to get a haircut.  Whee.  I can hardly wait.  I'm pretty much a little kid when it comes to haircuts.  I can't be bothered.  Yes, they wash your hair for like, 2 hours and give you some weird spiritual head massage.  That part is ok, if not time consuming.  But who actually washes their hair for that long?  Nobody!  Unless they have 24 hour hot water and a very patient family.

When, and if, and that is a big if, I wash my hair it usually goes like this:

Wet hair.

Try to squeeze the prescribed 10c piece size amount into the palm of my hand.

End up squeezing enough to fit on one of those huge stone monolith coins that those ancient dudes used to roll around.

Wash the rest of the shampoo down the drain, leaving a small, 50 dollar note sized splat.

Attempt to wash hair with a quasi "squishing" motion.  Realise that I am not a hairdresser, and that the squishing is doing very little.  Rinse hair in frustration.

Condition hair.  Do you condition the ends or the top as well?  I never know.  I end up doing the ends and then saying "stuff it" and putting the rest on the top of my head.  Rinse.

Wait 1 day for hair to look normal again.  Wonder why I bothered.  Ponder life's questions that deserve far more time than hair maintenance.


But I digress.  Again.  So, once the hairdresser has washed, conditioned, detangled and super smoothed your hair, then they spend the first hour intricately cutting individual hairs from... somewhere.  I'm not sure where.  All I know is when I get up from the chair it looks like the Abominable Snowman has come in for a full body shave.

So, 3 hours or so later, my hair is trimmed about 2 inches.  I really don't understand why it takes such a long time, or where all that hair comes from.


I will relent, of course, and get my hair cut.  I have 3 requests that I tell the hairdresser every time.

1.  Just a trim
2.  Bit of layering, not too much
3.  No fringe

For my US readers, a fringe is a bang.  And a bang is a fringe.  And that girl in the "Fringe" TV show has bangs.  Glad to have cleared that up.

Every time I go to the hairdresser, they suggest something wacky.

How about a fringe?
No, I tried that once when I was 12.  As a kid I knew fringes looked stupid, at least on me.  End of story.

How about some highlights?
No, it takes another 6 hours and comes out looking no different to when I started.  Except somehow $275 is missing somewhere...

How about a short, asymmetrical bob cut?
No, I am a longhair breed.




Also, has anyone else noticed that hairdressers display a variety of posters and magazines showcasing asymmetrical bob cuts, but nobody in the real world actually has one, at least for any extended period of time?

Ha, I think I have cracked one of the great mysteries of the universe.

"There is no asymmetrical bob cut."

Think about it.


So while I'm on this seemingly focused rant, let me expand to stuff I hate:

1.  Fringes and bangs  (I'm sorry if you have one, I just don't like them.  I can't change that.  It's something in my DNA or something)



2.  "Anti-Feminists"  Yes, I'm looking at you, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry.
YOU-CAN'T-BE-A-WOMAN-AND-BE-AN-ANTI-FEMINIST-YOU-MORONS-UNLESS-YOU-HATE-YOURSELF-IT-DOESN'T-MEAN-YOU-HATE-MEN

Unless of course, you are an idiot who likes being exploited and oppressed and doesn't want to seem too threatening to men who don't like feminists.  Tell you the truth, I don't really want to appeal to a man who doesn't like feminists, them health care-giving socialists and them gun-stealing, cow spooking scientists.

But you go ahead Katy Perry, AIM HIGH.


Let's just get a definition for those of you who don't know what a feminist is:

"Feminism is a collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women." (Wikipedia / Merriam-Webster Dictionary 2011)


Oooo.  Threatening.





3.  Anti-Feminists with bangs OR meat suits
Self explanatory


4.  The creepy Marc Jacobs 'Oh Lola' (Lolita) ad.  Oh lovely.  Let's celebrate creepy dudes who prey on pre-pubescent girls. Yay, us.  Yay 2013.



5.  That bottle of cognac that costs $1million dollars.  NOTHING is worth that.  You drink it, it's gone.  This isn't for drinking, people, this is for some serious poncing.  If you really want to impress somebody that much, you probably suck anyway so don't worry about it.  Buy yourself a nice house or something, or give it away to a person who is awesome.

5.  Tony Abbott
No photograph as I don't want to give anyone nightmares.


Apart from that, I love everyone and everything in the entire world.  Peace and mungbeans.




Thursday, September 19, 2013

Avast ye landlubbers, get below deck or I'll keelhaul ye!

Arrrrrrrrrr!!!

Avast ye!!

Landlubbers!!

Keel.. haul...

Ok, that's about the extent of my pirate vocabulary.  For some reason my pirate impression is a little off.

However, for some unknown reason, if I try to imitate a Scottish accent, it turns out pirate.  Although sometimes I sound like a Scottish pirate with a slight Jamaican accent.  I'm pretty sure that combination isn't a common one, but it's the only one I can do!!

So...

In honour of "International Talk Like A Pirate Day":


The Pirate Ergonomic Keyboard


The pirate vocabulary is large and versatile.  Diverse, eloquent, meaningful.  Here is a short rundown:


LJP's Pirate/English Dictionary 

Arrrr:  Greetings, fellow pirate.

Ar:  Where is my parrot?

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr:  I am lonely at sea.

 Arr...?  I find you very attractive.

Arraraarar:  I am mad at you but I can't decide whether to keelhaul you or walk the plank.  This is a tough decision that I do not take lightly.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr:   Stand by to board incoming vessel.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrragaaaaa:  Scuttle the ship me hearties!

AAAARHARHAHRHAHRHHAHHHAGGGGGGGGHHHHHAAWAWAWAAAAAAA:  Tony Abbott.





Pirate Memo Clip Note Holder


Hear ye, avast ye, and forget ye not, here is the best way for modern pirates to communicate with other pirates.  Plan raids, count your plunder and compare eye patches with this modern method of communication:  Sticky Paper!!  Arrrr.




Pirate Fancy Dress Costume

Remember, less is more.  Or is it more is more?  Maybe more parrots is more.  Less eyeliner perhaps, we've overdone the Captain Jack Sparrow thing.

It's well known that pirates didn't wear eyeliner, they wore blusher made from the blood of their conquests.  Or something...

Just remember, beardy, patchy and cutlassy and blunderbuss-y.

Also remember there is a veeeery fine line between seaworthy cred pirate dude and Adam Ant in the Higwayman film clip.  It's a fine line and I suppose it really depends what sort of party you're going to...  It's up to you...








Pirate Drinks Cooler

This is a contentious one because ice was in short supply on the high seas unless of course you managed to hit an iceberg.  And drinks that required cooling of any kind were a little impractical since the lower decks contained chained men, sheep's dung, one mouldy orange, a barrell of rotgut and a door that you never, I repeat, never opened.

I'm pretty sure pirates drank some kind of 175% proof Black Skull Label Rum that makes your eyes water and gives you the ability to see the past and future simultaneously while completely skipping the present.  It also assists you in understanding what your parrot is really saying to you.



And finally...





Pirate iPhone Case

Because pirates like, had so many like iPhones...  'cause GPS and stuff.  Like how would they have gotten around?  GPS app like I don't know, it was a really old one, like from the 80s?   Yeah, 'cause if they didn't have computers how did they steal series 5 of Breaking Bad?  Duh.. ... I swear... so dumb...








Tuesday, August 27, 2013

You may have been watching the news recently and noticed with interest (hee hee!) that interest rates have dropped to an almost unheard of 2.5%, dropping 25 basis points.  This means that the interest rates of today, in 2013, are actually the lowest recorded interest rates since 1959.

So, what does that have to do with me, you might ask.  Well, there's this thing called the "Australian Dream", the dream of owning one's own home.  The advantages are numerous, including the ability to renovate at will, not having to keep shifting stuff from one place to another, and best of all, no inspections!!

But I digress.

What I actually mean is that this might just be a good time to get your first home loan and lock in a low interest rate with a building society with low interest rates like Newcastle Permanent.  Customer service reviews show that they actually answer the phone when you call so you don't have to speak to a robot every time you call up.  I appreciate that kind of attention to detail, it makes all the difference when you really want to get some information quickly.

At this point in time, you can get a fixed rate mortgage for your first home with a set period for the fixed rate of between 1 and 10 years.  Or you can go for the variable option, depending on your requirements, it's a very personal thing so it's really up to you which way you go.

For first home buyers, you need around 5-10% deposit of the total purchase price, which is a sensible amount, and first home buyers may also be eligible for the first home buyers grant scheme.  This grant provides a boost for anyone wishing to purchase their first home.

The site has a bunch of useful tools including a loan calculator and graph facility, to let you know what your rate and repayments would be over a chosen time period.  You can choose from 10-50 year terms, although a lot of people tend to fall somewhere in the middle of these numbers, for example 25 years or so.  It all depends on how quickly you want to pay off your home and how you can arrange your budget to do so.

For example, I tried out a hypothetical loan, $320,000 (which is a reasonable amount for a humble blogger such as myself), 10 year fixed rate home loan and a payment period of 25 years.  The results are below:


I think I could manage that quite nicely. And I suppose if I can do it, there's a high likelihood that you probably can too.

It's quite fun playing around with the options on the calculator. I estimated repayments on a 2,000,000 loan over 50 years, and then over 10 years. That's just how I roll.

You could try it yourself with figures that apply to your situation and see what the results are.

All in all, judging by the current interest rate situation, it is pretty clear that at this very moment in time, harking back to other golden era's in interest rates, now is probably one of the best time to set up your first home loan. After all, you only get two 1959s in a lifetime!

Wednesday, August 07, 2013



The theme today is "SPACE!"  What kind of space, you say?  Surface space?  Room space?  Yard space?

No, I'm talking about space itself.  You know, the great unknown, the heavens, universes, mutiverses, string theory, brane (M-Theory), quantum physics and did you know that we're not really here but exist in many dimensions at once and we're all made of material that fits on something smaller than the head of a matchstick.

...sorry, got a bit carried away there.  Back to the pretty stuff:

When I was a kid, I created a "Starlight Zone" display on my ceiling, replicating the solar system in orbit.


Can we possibly improve on this?  Um,... yes.


Japan Trend Shop and friends have come up with the R2D2 star projector.  Over 60,000 stars, X-Wings, Tie Fighters, Star Wars characters and hours of fun.  And it runs on AA batteries, just like the real R2D2 (?!?!?) tee hee!!


R2D2 Planetarium Projector




The lovely people at Vintage Confections / The Original Planet Lollipops have out-nerded the lolly gods and created a brilliant set of solar system lollipops.


The Original Planet LollipopsTM Solar System


And just when you thought the awesomeness had finished...


Some folks believe the earth is flat.  Still.  Well, they don't believe in climate change, anyway.  Some believe dinosaurs didn't exist, despite fossils and stuff.

Despite human stupidity, science has provided us with a few tips.  The earth isn't the centre of the universe, orbits are ellipses, not perfect circles, and a big-assed meteorite probably wiped out the dinosaurs.  Don't believe me?  Here's proof that stuff from outer space ends up hitting the earth at some point or other...


Meteorite


Apparently, some meteorites being sold online are not genuine meteorites.  I know, shocking, right?  So how do you check if your meteorite is the real deal?

According the the knowledgeable people at Aerolite, these are the things to look out for:

1 - If it sticks to a magnet, it could very well be a meteorite.  It's not a guarantee but it helps!
2 - If it has holes in it (or 'vesicles') or is porous/grainy it's probably not a meteorite.
3 - If is H-E-A-V-Y, much heavier than normal rocks of a similar size, it probably is a meteorite.

Otherwise, you might just have a normal rock that's been spray painted silver or a piece of hematite.  Which, although pretty, kind of defeats the purpose of having an extra-terrestrial rock in the first place!



What space stuff would be complete without the answer to one of the most important questions in the universe... "Are we alone?"

Yeah right, we live on a planet the size of a speck of specky specky stuff in a big specky ball of universe-y stuff and we think we're the only ones?

It's funny how the skeptics tend to lean towards us being alone in the universe/multiverse/multi-multi-megaverses when the law of averages says its more likely we're not alone.

Oooh, spooky.  No, not really, just logic.

Anyway, the truth is out there in the form of.... Alien soap!!!

The folks at Bubblegenius have come up with a rather amusing gift basket in the form of... Alien abduction!!!




Alien Abduction Soap Gift Basket


Please note that no cows were harmed in the making of this gift basket.  Literally.  It's vegan.  And they glow in the dark!  The cow doesn't glow because it hasn't been irradiated by the aliens yet.

I can't say that it's going to be a particularly vegan experience for the real alien abduction cows though... Did I just say that?  Uh oh...

Nothing to see here...

Thingy Whatsitcalled



***Zap!!!***

What was I talking about?

Dang...








Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Foodporn is something I was not aware of up until recently.  (Hello, Pinterest!)

Every time I have studied pictures and recipes of "Thai Curry" or "Shiitake Stir Fry" I have been watching foodporn.  Who knew?  I love food, and apparently foodporn as well.  I suppose there are worse vices than collecting images of the perfect pasta bake.


So what does that have to do with Australia and bullsh!t detectors?

A while ago, but not too long ago, there was this thing called a "restaurant".  When you got hungry, you turned up at a "restaurant" and because you were in Melbourne, the erstwhile capital of good food, pretty much everything was nice quality, cheap and didn't give you food poisoning.

You could even go to a restaurant and be handed a menu instead of getting it Ninja thrown at the side of your face and one could have a smoke after the meal without freezing one's proverbial off.

But then something happened...  Something that needs to be addressed, stopped and reversed immediately on pain of death.  

A Fish and Chip shop became a "Fish and Chippery", which gave the owner licence to turn a massive $2 butcher's paper roll of gargantuan chips into a dinky twerpy little folded box with 12 chips in it.  For $5.

They started calling places "Boumerange" instead of restaurant so they could charge $9.50 for a scone.
...and I don't even like scones.

Just the other day at a nice looking establishment I ordered a muffin that was doughy and uncooked, and pretty much inedible, but for some reason I was supposed to bask in the rare privilege of being seen in the luminous presence of a hideously overpriced dogbox, and it would have made no difference had I complained because they were all out the back watching Masterchef on their iPads.

So somewhere along the way it stopped being about making food that customers actually liked, and became about the "Head Chef" (formerly known as a "Chef") trying to work out his signature dish so he can get a Michelin star one day in the near distant never never never ever.

And now restaurants have gone from cosy, welcoming eateries to some kind of futuristic veterinarian's operating table so you have to strain trying to see the menu properly with the sun gleaming off 10 metres of burnished steel that is powerful enough to signal the "Spirit of Tasmania" on its return journey.

On top of this, you have the indignity of having to dress up like a sulfur crested cockatoo in mating season to get the waiters to notice you signalling them, and by that stage you have given up and gone to Bakers Delight.

The irony of being treated like crap by someone who is being exploited for $8 and hour cash-in-hand under the table, just so they can say they work at "Wankella By The Bay" and presumably impress someone who gives a rat's arse is beyond any kind of logic.

So what happened?  We became try hards.  That's right.  Ponces.  Twerps.  Snobs, dorks, pretentious bogans.  There's probably no going back now, at least for those already compromised.

Perhaps it was the introduction of Foxtel to Australia.  Foxtel brought us American game shows, talk shows, cooking programs, reality shows, fear (I mean "current affair") shows and "Fair and Balanced" (aka. "propaganda") news reporting.

Can it be all traced back to Rupert Murdoch, who, through the medium of TV, newspapers and more TV, is attempting to turn us into American talk show audience members from "Donahue".  Possibly?

I'm not quite sure of the exact connection but I'm sure it's there somewhere.

The United States on the other hand, has developed shows like "Mad TV" and "Reno 911", demonstrating not only a rudimentary understanding of irony, but a full mastery, worthy of Blackadder's finest hours.

Australia is fast losing its sense of irony, sarcasm, wit and ridicule in favour of ignorance, apathy and cashed-up-bogan-ness.

The world is upside down, it seems.

Oh and just to add insult to injury:

McDonalds and Dominoes have "head chefs" apparently (yes, his name is Joshua and he has a rather virulent strain of acne), and these "restaurants" now have "SIGNATURE DISHES".  I had to write that in capitals just so you could read the start of the sentence again and try and put it with the end of the sentence without banging your head on the nearest table.

So... to clear up a few points...

No, I'm not into the "Slow Food" movement, I actually just need to cook this for a long time because that's how the recipe goes.

I do not want "Smashed Potatoes" ferfuggssake!!  It's a potato that has been squashed.  If you tell me it tastes any different I will test out the theory that plates of smashed potatoes hurt more than plates of mashed potatoes when thrown at someone's face.

I like sun dried tomatoes.  I think the distinction "semi-dried tomatoes" is taking it a bit too far.  They look the same as the sun dried ones but cost $2 more a kilo.

I don't really want any quinoa.  Or kwweeenwaaaaahhhhh!!  Or however the crap you say it.  I don't even like porridge and I will probably like it less with the introduction of a grain that tastes weird and soapy unless you soak in under a banana leaf for 14 hours and wash it with baboon tears until clean.

A barista is another word for "wanker".  I don't care how many times you get the "perfect drip", you are one.

Let me reiterate:

You-make-coffee-in-a-coffee-shop.

And finally, I will most definitely be skipping the "Marinated Feta With Bush Dust".  I mean seriously, I love feta.  But bush dust?  It conjures up images of bulls, dust and the inevitable movements of bulls after eating too much grass.  Perhaps the bull made the mistake of eating "Grass Jus With Strawberry Cow Pat Couli", I suppose that would explain the urgency.

I will leave you with a memory of what Australia once was, and perhaps a brief glimmer of what it could become, if we just put down the truffle mandolin and start again: