This is what Alanis Morissette was singing about right?

This is why so many people jizz in their pants about the internet. Because it is a place where a song from Phoenix's 2009 album Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix can mate with the Brat Pack and produce three minutes of online entertainment. How Ironic. I can’t explain why but people creating useless and meaningless stuff like this gives me a world wide web worthy boner.

There, I said it.

The delights of you tube

Because you tube is the most magical place on the world wide web. Other than Kim Jong Il's twitter feed. And because I am a lazy blogger. Blog imitating life really.

My hands are bananas




Sour's 'Hibi no Neiro

He he. Sham-on. Ahhhh!

RIP MJ.

Never have I seen buildings bleeding so well

Please consider RoboGeisha and her bust guns, hip katanas, fried shrimp and disabled guns. Enjoy also the fine voice work of Satan.

I'm a twat.

Hang on I don't know if I'm saying that right. I'm now on Twitter. So I now twat? Is that the right verb? I'm confused. Twat.

http://twitter.com/joshaitken

The land of the free and the money back guarantee - Live from Mars it's Saturday night!

I didn't know that ruling the Earth from Mars made your eye so wonky. But I guess it would be hard to find a good plastic surgeon up there. Just don't look into the eye, look around the eye, or you may end up a smiling follower in your very own 'it's a small world after all' national costume. Although not since the snuggie infomercial have I seen such happy people. Maybe her High Holy Queen of the rings of Uranus is on to something.

Mind flu

Forget swine flu (which is easy as it isn't the dreaded elephant flu) as I have mind flu. Sure you probably won't catch it being date-raped on a P&O Cruise. Or by attending a large gathering at the MCG. But it is just a debilitating, but doesn't come with the sexy face masks. It is a pain in the arse.

Samson & Delilah

Warwick Thorton's film is one of few words. And so is this post. It's sad. It's rad. See it.

Keyboard cat is my hero

I never thought that my love for Spaghetti Cat could be overshadowed. Ever. He completed me. But then I met Keyboard Cat. And he had me at hello. Seriously, anything that brings a happy resolution to Hayley Joel Osmund's guest spot on Walker Texas Ranger, is worth the price of the 118 batteries you need to run a Casio keyboard.

Visit Keyboard Cat in all his magnificence here.

Exercise is for dickheads

I finally understand obesity. Not only do you enclose your body in a safety cage of your emotionally caused blubber, you also don't injure yourself by exercising. And you also get to eat everything deep-fried and covered in chocolate.

Sunday arvo I decided to go for a run.

All was going according to plan, one foot after the other (repeat). Ran down through Woolloomooloo then up around Mrs. Macquarie’s chair. I was feeling good, and running for Australia. Minus the lycra. And the fast running.

Little did I know that shit was about to go down. Clover Moore had cursed me with her bottomless collection of executive neck chokers and a complete lack of street lights.

Placed right in the middle of the footpath for your falling pleasure was the above decorative concrete hurdle.

So there goes me flying through the air heading for a pash with the bitumen. Luckily I employed all of my ninja know-how and managed to land on my left arm and then right shoulder and roll (almost down the stairs). I jumped up dusted off my grazed bits and ran the 15 minutes home.

It wasn’t until later the pain set in. So here I am now typing this with one hand, old school style. Meanwhile my left arm has seized up into a perfect right angle. Like some Josh action figure cheaply made in China and painted with almost skin-toned led paint.

You don’t realise how much you use both hands/arms until you can’t. Who would’ve thought that running is a contact sport. Maybe there's a new reality show in that. It will be massive in Japan. Well as long as the contestants had to cook with their genitals at the same time. Japan - it's all about the nuance.

EDIT - I have a fractured radius (one of the bones in your forearm). Awesomeness.

Monkey Face

Just ask long time campaigner Dolly Parton, monkey face is a crisis that is now reaching pandemic proportions. Every nine minutes somewhere on earth someone is given a monkey face. (Or in french: visage de singe. Which sounds much nicer than it actually is.) That's a lot of monkey faces. Way too many if you ask me.

Please help us as we aim to raise awareness and move to reduce the incidences of monkey face by half. That's a goal of half a monkey face every nine minutes (with I guess the other half having to wait a further nine minutes - that's some tantric shit).

It does stand to prove one thing though - the french language manages to make anything sound appealing - even monkey face.

Mary & Max

Not since Disney's Lady and the Tramp has an animated film been so moving (see human eye incontinence) and yet deal so effectively with the pitfalls of dog on dog romance. But Mary & Max, Adam Elliot's first full length feature is an achievement, with a great cast and strangely endearing clay visuals (although I always have been partial to play doh). You'll laugh, you'll cry and if you are anything like me you will drop your iPhone in a blackened theatre just after you've turned it on silent (awesome). I'm only giving it four stars mainly because I think the title should've been Max & Mary and not Mary & Max.

The land of the free and the money back guarantee: food exfoliation

Just when I thought that apex of American achievement had been reached with Dreamworks' Hotel for Dogs, along comes the Handy Peel. Never has the process that gives you the holiest of foods - mashed potatoes - been so disturbing. Although it is no where near as off-putting as the carrot sequence. Clasp that carrot. And now scrub rythymically.

The Handy Peel does however leave vegetables looking fresh, ten years younger and virtually pore-free. Yes that I will give them.

Conspiracy Theory: Meetings

Meetings are where creativity, productivity, sanity and the nativity all go to die. They are a massive waste of time. But is there something more sinister behind it all? Yes.

The meeting is a concept developed by a clandestine group of faceless chairmen in 1976 in order to distract the good people of earth. Why distract us? To guarantee that they would be able to halt the progress of technological, social and artistic development of the human race in order to ensure that we remain defenseless from the coming invasion of their giant space slug queen named Sally in the year 3001. It’s a lot to digest (both the concept and the entire human race, but Sally has 12 stomachs and 3 anuses). But we are all just pawns in a game set up by a group of expressionless computerised transvestites who worship a strangely named - morbidly obese - space slug, who has yet to discover a speedy way of coming to our planet in order to feast on our tasty entrails.

There is hope for mankind though. Stop wasting your precious time sitting in rooms talking in acronyms and instead devote yourselves to building slug repelling weapons and death rays. I for one am designing a rissole launcher. Sally will never know what hit her (minced meat).

The Hotel of Doom

Fine Comrades,

I've always wanted to go to North Korea. Who wouldn't. They have substandard missiles, Kim Jong Il, dancing bears, have the world's only Steve Segal museum and, if that's not enough, everyone wears a uniform. But where do you stay in a country that has no HotelIbis?

The Ryugyong Hotel (Korean for “giant waste of substandard concrete”) of course. It stands 105 storeys tall. Looks like ThunderbirdOne. Was started in 1987 before being abandoned a long way off completion in 1992. Where it has been left dormant without interiors or general comforts like windows or electricity ever since. Although there are now plans to mount a mobile phone tower to the top of it (Telstra never misses a trick).

The Hotel of Doom, as some call it, is in fact so secret that the government airbrushes it from all photos of Pyongyang and have forbidden citizens from looking at it, talking about it, or too it. Much like Tom Cruise really.

It is basically the most giant pyramid shaped fuck-up in the history of pyramid shaped fuck-ups. And boy have there been a few. I don’t know about you but I am going to spend my Easter long weekend building a tribute to honour this fine building out of the lead-coated substandard Lego i picked up in China Town.

We should all give Kim Jong Il a break though, it is very time consuming having twins and triplets removed from their parents and sent away to a baby work camp. (His nightmare that twins will overthrow him is a whole other post.)

In the meantime learn more about the Hotel of Doom at the Wikipedia truth site here.

A Christmas Tale

A Christmas Tale (Un conte de Noël - French for longer than The Lord of the Rings) is the writing and directorial debut of the Marlboro Man. The film begins as splintered as the dysfunctional Vuillard's are, but becomes tighter and more enjoyable, as they all come together as a family for Christmas for the first time in many years. It is over three hours long and probably has to be as it deals with death, cancer, family, adultery, religion, mathematics, philosophy, depression, mental illness, why Catherine Deneuve is hotter than her own daughter and roast turkey. I did however find the 'my daughter is a packet of cigarettes' subplot a little forced. But I guess it is what the Marlboro Man knows.

While the cast is rad, Catherine Deneuve steals the show, and should've played all of the parts herself. But then again I have to say that or Rain will disown me.

It's a sign

Just when you think there is no hope for humanity - with all the fighting, global warming, global financial meltdowning and rampant zombie attacks - god sends us a sign, and lets us know that we should hang in there and have faith. It may be an apparition of the virgin Mary having tea with Buddha singed into your pop tart. Or in this case a sit down chat between two of my favourite people that I don't know - Dave Letterman and Jon Stewart. I guess you can stop stocking the quantum sleeper with tinned food for at least another week.

Enjoyify.

Part 1


Part 2

The Urban Dictionary

English is a funny flawed language. But the good thing about it is that it poaches from other languages (tidal waves become tsunamis - well not literally because that would be all kinds of toilet if a tidal wave and a tsunami combined forces ala Voltron) and allows for improvisation and reinvention. Which is why I like to take a break from reading about how to get arms like Michelle Obama and visit the urban dictionary (no caps as it's all urban and shit) to discover new words.

Some of my recent favourites:

Lesbro
1. A man who has more friendships with lesbians than other women or men.
2. A man who befriends lesbians with the intent to seduce them.

Steve is such a lesbro. He doesn't have a chance with those women.

Bromance
Describes the complicated love and affection shared by two straight males.

Nonversation
A completely worthless conversation, wherein nothing is illuminated, explained or otherwise elaborated upon. Typically occurs at parties, bars or other events where meaningful conversation is nearly impossible.

Cewebrity
An internet personality that has attained celebrity.

Social Notworking
The practice of spending time unproductively on social-networking websites, especially when one should be working.

Remote Dance
The movements you make with your hand when trying to get your tv to recognize your remote control.

Laundry Limbo
Intentionally rewashing clothing simply because you don't feel like putting it away.

Lol Theory

The theory that the internet phrase lol,meaning "laugh out loud", can be placed at any part in any sentence and make said sentence lose all credibilty and seriousness.

1. Doc: We need to operate on your colon lol, you have cancer.

2. Jesus: Take this all of you and eat it, it is my body, lol.

3. Man: Will you marry me? Lol.

I feel like we have all learned something. Now back to Michelle Obama's arms...