When will You People learn?

Do you think the fuckwit Collingwood  fans and their shit-for-brain president will ever get it into their retarded skulls that abusive language is not accpetable?

What that 13-year-old bitch said to Adam Goodes was so insulting but I shouldn’t be surprised a skank like her doesn’t understand how hurtful certain words can be to a person.

Continue reading


Survival of the fittest

Source: John Crowther

There are two ways to approach scientific theories. The first is whether they affect our day-to day-lives. It doesn’t matter if the only thing you remember about Einstein’s theory of relativity is it somehow involved Yahoo Serious because most of us are unlikely to travel fast enough to notice the dilation of time. You get told about is once in Year 12 physics and then you go back to figuring out how to buy enough booze for Schoolies Week.

However, suppose you spend Schoolies Week at Rottnest Island off the coast of WA. When you try to step off your girlfriend’s dad’s boat too quickly  it pushes in the opposite direction, leaving you bobbing in the Indian Ocean. That’s Isaac Newton’s third law of motion and you won’t break it again. Continue reading

When good brands go bad

The ultimate goal for a company’s marketing department is ubiquity.

You want people to think of your  brand not as  specific product but rather an unremarkable part of their daily existence.

Band-aid and heroin began as registered trademarks but both phrases are so common place you could probably get away with using them in a game of Scrabble. Continue reading

I don’t know art but . . .

Source: The Worst of Perth

Do most graffiti artists express themselves on the side of a building because it is the only medium large enough to contain their massive egos?

Why is their artistic vision so special they feel the need to share it with me, whether I want it or not? Continue reading

Keeping the faith


Image courtesy of imagerymajestic/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I prayed last month. And not just a quick mumble before the Sunday roast but a proper “Are you there God?, It’s me, Ben” supplication.

It has been a while since I have been to any place of worship so the gnawing sense of guilt and obligation propelled me to a pew three rows from the front.

The old place – about 4km from the Perth CBD – may be considered sacred but whoever does the maintenance is less than devout.  The paint is fading and anyone average height or above has their ears around their knees when taking a seat. Continue reading