Archive for Crap

Get Ya Han’ Off It!

Posted in Shit That Sucks & Blows with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 18, 2008 by Buck Frain

In Australia we have a saying. When I was growing up it was something of a catch cry. It was an emphatic indication to the recipient that whatever they’d been saying was complete wank, that they were by default a complete wanker and, therefore, that they should shut up. Get ya hand off it! That said it all.

 

 

I watched the movie Hancock yesterday and the cry came back to me. I love a good superhero movie, truth be told I don’t even mind a bad one on the odd occasion, I really wanted to enjoy Hancock but it was never going to happen. I concede that I got three decent laughs out of it, which in the past has been enough to turn a film for me, but not this time. The eminently watchable Will Smith plays John Hancock, an alcoholic superhero destroying Los Angeles despite his best intentions. I can just hear the coked-up pitch:

OK, OK, OK! How would people like Superman, huh, if he was…if he was a bum??? Get it? No cape, no suit, just stinkin’ of booze, tryin’ to fight crime, but fuckin’ everybody’s shit up like a…like a…an invincible drunk driver! Huh??? ‘Cause he’s got no fortress of solitude, he’s got no Marlon Brando who loves him, he’s just alone in the world with…with his powers!!! Eh???

 

Director Peter Berg fucked this film right in its arse. How you take a cast like this, an interesting premise and $150 million and turn it into a turkey like Hancock is beyond me. Peter Berg, you’re a fucking goose! Other than some basic slapstick laughs the film is piss boring and as sappy as a week of Days Of Our Lives. It seems as though Berg has tried to make a fuckin’ drama out of what might have become quite an interesting and dark comedy. Gags like our hero shoving a crim’s head up another crim’s arse, how do you make that NOT funny? Berg did it, the lame cunt! How do you make Will Smith and Charlize Theron look insincere? How do you make Jason Bateman look lamer than he did in Teen Wolf Too!? At every turn the film got progressively fuckeder. Plot twists that were so heavily telegraphed that characters’ surprise at their revelation was completely unbelievable, character histories referenced in a way that made them looked like tacked-on afterthoughts that even the actors didn’t know about. Everyone knows going in that it’s a superhero movie so suspension of disbelief is hard to break, but the banal misdirection of this film succeeds at smashing it to buggery. Peter Berg, you suck! You’re a fuckin’ douche bag, get fucked!

 

 

If you haven’t seen Hancock, don’t bother. It’s cock – not hard cock, but floppy, stupid, useless cock! If you still want to see it, I say: wait till it comes on free-to-air TV then watch something else!

 

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The Power Of The Jesus Spoon

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 2, 2008 by Buck Frain

When I was three years old there was a strange boy who lived over the road from us. He was only a year older than me but to me at three, he at four seemed huge. His name was Danny, he had red hair, freckles and smelt a bit funny. He was also very strong. I think it must have been summer, I remember it as being hot, I remember the sound of cicadas and that we both wore t-shirts and shorts.

 

The thing that set Danny apart from anyone else was that he always carried with him a tarnished old silver teaspoon with a Christ-like figure on the handle. The photo above is a spoon I found in an antique shop a few years ago, it’s identical to the one Danny used to carry. The antique dealer told me that they came in sets of twelve and depicted the twelve apostles. To me, however, it was always The Jesus Spoon.

 

I don’t remember Danny and I being friends as such or ever playing together. I do remember being over at his house once. We were in his front yard one afternoon and he had his Jesus Spoon. He led me over to a big piece of dog shit on the lawn and we looked at it for a while. It was quite fresh and probably came from his dad’s dog, Brutus, a German Shepherd that scared the absolute piss out of me even from across the road.

 

Danny dug a scoop of shit out of the glossy turd on the lawn with The Jesus Spoon. If not for the odour it could have been a scoop of chocolate mousse. I watched with fascination as he turned the spoon and put it into his mouth poo-side down and drew it back out clean. He moved the shit around in his mouth and swallowed. From his mouth movements it looked as though some of it had stuck to the roof of his mouth like peanut butter. The thing that amazed me was that he did it and didn’t appear to be suffering. How did it work?

 

He dug out another scoop and offered it to me:

 

Try some. It’s nice.

 

I was unconvinced.

 

No thanks

 

Really? It’s really good.

 

He put the second spoonful of dog shit in his mouth and ate it. It was quite a trick. I couldn’t work out how it worked. Was it the spoon? Did The Jesus Spoon have some magical power over the poo that made it taste like something wonderful? He really was enjoying eating it and it really was poo. This was a very interesting day.

 

He went for a third scoop and offered it to me again. I was starting to feel a bit of pressure, he was 2-0 up on me and I knew that, if push came to shove, he could probably force me to eat it if he chose to.

 

C’mon, try it, it’s really good.

 

Hmm. No thanks. (pause) I’ve seen where it comes from.

 

There, I’d said it. I wasn’t going to be fooled, but how would Danny react? He stood looking at me, spoonful of dog shit in his hand. He looked right into my eyes, taking me in, looking for some sort of clue as to what was going on in my three year old mind. I knew I couldn’t run, he’d catch me easily and force-feed me poo, I just had to stand there and wait.

 

Too bad.

 

He just shrugged and stuck the third spoonful into his mouth and smiled a big gleeful poo-smile. He swallowed it and for a moment I wondered if maybe I really was missing out on something. Only for a moment though, I saw my cue and went home.

 

See ya, Danny.

 

Danny and I never became friends. Our differing views on munching dog turds set us apart. Plus, I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t try and force me to eat the poo one day. He never did, but a few days later he came over to my house and ate some of my dog’s poo.

 

This is my earliest memory and it still haunts me a little to this day. I suppose that’s why I bought a Jesus Spoon and put it on my wall.

How To Lose Friends & Gross The Fuck Out Of People.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 12, 2008 by Buck Frain

Am I just old? Am I repressed? Am I a prude? I wouldn’t have thought so, but I have been forced to reconsider. Like most people in the world who aren’t being starved to death by western capitalism, I have a Facebook page, and surprising as it may seem, I have friends. Well…I have people who have added me as “friends” and that’s really what it’s all about – the appearance of popularity.

The problem I’ve always found with social groups of any sort is there are people who are your friends, and then there are people who you’re just supposed to accept because they have some space-time connection to the group. They don’t necessarily fit, and they may give everyone the right royal shits but for some reason no-one has the heart to fuck them off. Note well: If your social group doesn’t have a crap friend like this, have a good think because that crap friend may just be you.

Normally groups find ways of containing the unpleasant or embarrassing behaviour of crap friends Shutup Shon! Don’t worry, he’s OK, he’s just a bit of a tool.  But Facebook removes that ability to contain. It allows crap friends free reign to publish their inappropriateness to your whole social network. It allows the crapness to spew forth like a geyser of well…look up tubgirl if you really want to know. Actually, don’t.

I’ll get to the point. I logged into my profile for the first time in a couple of weeks and was shocked to find one of my brother’s crap friends had sent me a big picture of goatse. I wasn’t familiar with goatse and for those of you who also haven’t experienced it, in the name of taming it down, here’s a jack-a-lantern depiction of it.

Let me tell you, I’m not easily unsettled but goatse is fucking gross. But that wasn’t really what shat me. What really fucked me off was that for a week my real friends had been confronted with a hideous goatse on my page that had not been removed…for a week, therefore lending credence to the notion that I found it funny or acceptable or that it was in some sense my taste. I mean, fuck! People I work with, people I respect are checking my profile and one lowbrow fucker I added out of guilt is fucking my relationships up because he has no sense of the appropriate and has no internal censor. Inappropriate shit should be at least contained to personal emails, not broadcast to everyone you know.

So, before I have my entire social life undermined by one sick bastard, I’m getting honest. I’m doing some Facebook pruning and I urge you to do the same. Anyone who offends me or who I don’t genuinely like is going. That’s it, you’re out, get fucked! If you’re more of a liability than an asset, fuck off! It sounds mercenary, nasty and intolerant but I don’t give a fuck. If I embarrass myself that’s one thing, I’ll even cope with friends embarrassing me, but when some random shitstick vandalises my social page with grotesque fetishist wankery it’s time to cut the ties. NO MORE FACEBOOK GUILT FRIENDS!!! Fuck you, crap friends!