Thursday, December 27, 2007

Two types of people

There are two types of people in this world that I have unmeasurable feelings of hate for and thus I take this opportunity to discuss them in detail.

The Negomaniac

The Negomaniac prides his or herself on being the most positive person they know when in true fact, they are the opposite. Thriving on other peoples sympathy and kindness, they will often speak, or write, about their ill health, their bad luck or their downfalls - taking every opportunity to turn anything remotely positive into something obscenely negative. They also manage to push the blame for their circumstance onto some other unsuspecting soul who is simply just trying to live their life and be happy. This often results in them attacking, or stalking, the said soul for days, weeks, even months at a time. Consistantly bombarding them with letters, emails or text messages to remind them how they have apparently brought about the end of the Negomaniacs life.

And oh, how sometimes we wish it really was.

The Homewrecker

The Homewrecker loves monogamy. From their partner towards themselves but disregards it when it comes to themselves towards their partners. They also disregard it when it comes to other people and their partners - often choosing to embark on sexual adventures with people who are committed to others; beastly careless if it destroys the other persons relationship or not. Provided the Homewrecker gets their fix and has their faithful partner to go back to at the end of their romp, they simply do not care. However, life can go balls up for the Homewrecker when their 'faithful' partner decides they have had enough of the Homewreckers antics and decides to move onto greener pastures. Or should I say, cleaner beaches with no crabs as it may be.


Its rather amusing to me to have discovered that these two traits can be found within the one person. Hi Nic, sweetheart, this ones for you.

I've not said a word about your looks other than that I think you are a rather pretty girl, and yet you have called me the fugliest thing you have ever seen. I've been nice, in the hopes that you guys can stay friends but alas, you shoot me down in flames whenever I try, claiming that I'm being underhand, sly and downright cruel. So I give up. Now my blog child can announce to the world about your infidelity, really, cheating once wasn't enough, you had to do it twice? But its okay, because you apologized for it. Sorry honey, but the world doesn't quite work that way. But you've proved that you don't know much about how the world works through being a Negomaniac. Instead of looking to others to lay blame, look within girl, because if you open your eyes, you'll find it. Some people in this world offer their kindness and generosity because they are actually kind and generous people, which was my intention when I messaged you, those that automatically assume the person did it to be nasty have a real problem and a guilty conscience. I hope 2008 teaches you to live your life, instead of letting it be controlled by your illness. I understand a lot more than you think owing to the amount of terminal illness in my family., but it doesnt stop them from living life to the fullest, as life was intended to be lived.


Now, dear readers, on a much more happy note, Cam and I will very soon have an internet connection and will be able to return to you as the supreme diabolical genius force that we are, bringing you more satire and wit as we venture together into 2008. But first, I have an itch that requires scratching.. if you know what I mean... ;) *Meow*


- Miss ~K~

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Euphamisms: A Study of the Futile,the Pointless, and the just plain Wrong.

Euphemism is the substitution of an agreeable or less offensive expression for one that may offend or suggest something unpleasant to the listener; or in the case of doublespeak, to make it less troublesome for the speaker. (Relentlessly wrenched from the bowels of Wikipedia)

It is my opinion that the person who invented the concept of the euphamism needs to die. If (s)he is already dead, they need to be exhumed, brought back to life, and killed again. It is a sad fact that they exist, sugar coating the very words that usually make people stand up and pay attention.

A primary example of this lies in a realm that up until now has been cautiously avoided by the crew here at Arsenic and Jubilation. I speak of politics. I was enjoying an Oktoberfest celebration at the university watering hole last week, when we were approached - very nonchalantly I might add - by an individual who wanted to preach to us the virtues of socialism. I snickered quietly to myself and sat back, disinterested, while my companion decided to engage this stain upon the free market in conversation. I tuned out, listening to the entertainment around us as she blah blah'd on, tuning in occasionally to hear her talking about chair factories, planned economics, and the like. What made me emit an audible snort was when she defined socialism as 'communism, but with all the negative connotations removed'

Hah! Yes, because you can simply remove every bad reference to an ideology simply by calling it something else. I know! Let's rename Nazism to nationalism! There! The Holocaust never took place! I made it all better! Fuck off.

My point isn't really that socialism is bad. I believe it is, but if there is one thing that this writer has learned, it is to keep his political opinion to himself. My point is that anyone who preys on the ignorant by sugarcoating their extemist political views fancy new words needs to die a slow and painful death.

kthxbai.

Monday, October 15, 2007

L.F.F. The New LG.

Dear followers,

I apologize for my absence in the last fortnight/month, I had been planning to keep making three to four posts a week whilst on my holiday but more pressing matters, such as global warming and being economical with water, were keeping me pre-occupied. (And not in the way that you might be thinking).

One of the more interesting pieces of news I have to share with you this evening, is my plans to relocate my mars base. To Sydney. To be with c0mander. Well, actually, I always did have plans to move off the island in search of studious opportunities, but never once entertained the idea that love might be found along the way, but thats exactly what has happened. Its only right really, after having this here blog child together, that we forge a relationship so that it has a loving and caring environment in which to gr... now I'm sounding like a sap. Moving on.

So yes, I will be returning to the island within the next fortnight to finalize a few things and gather my references and have many a farewell beer before returning at the end of the month, to seek work- both of us will spend our christmas in Tasmania with respective family members and then we will return together, to NSW, hopefully for good. (Well, my degree will take me approximately seven years... so I'll be here for a while anyway ;) )

This should provide you all with a brand new calibre of material oozing from Arsenic and Jubilation once we get our new mars base established, as you'll have the combined brain power of two diabolical geniuses, working together to bring you entertainment of gigantic proportions.

In other news, I am selling copious amounts of my belongings to fund the relocation of said mars base. The actual truth is that I am selling off all of my posessions to increase the dwindling dollars in the beer fund... but you need not know that, all you need to know is that you, dear reader, want to buy my shit. For my shit, is the shit. End of story.

I have also decided that TAFE Tasmania can find a rather large hole in which to bury itself in. Prior to that, it should coat itself in kerosene while I throw matches at it. Prior to that, it should be given to a blind person with a meat mallet, with the request "honey, could you pound the meat for dinner please?". Prior to that, it should be taken bungee jumping, but not given a cord. You may or may not be getting the idea that I dislike TAFE Tasmania at the moment, and probably will forever. TAFE Tasmania in all of their glory (which isn't all that much) decided to unenroll my genious self (Yes, can you believe that?), from my course, because I chose a holiday in Sydney over completing the work they were making me redo after they lost my originals.

You see, when faced with a decision like I was, of completing work I had already completed, again, just because some incompetant staff members misplaced my work and could not remember where they put it, or going on a holiday for 2-3 weeks, to a place a hell of a lot warmer than Tasmania, to research studious opportunities and hang out with an even-sexier-diabolical-genious-than-I, really, I ask you, what choice did I have?

Taking the obvious choice, I stayed in Tasmania and comple... No, not really.

But really, to hell with TAFE, because the University even turned their nose up at my past two years at TAFE, as it was not a diploma level, it matters not to them.

Perhaps, if they had not lost my work, I wouldn't have been so disheartened with them and would have forced myself to finish my year before going on my holiday, which might have meant that I would not be in the seriously happy place that I am now. LG have got it all wrong. Its not Lifes Good. Its LFF, Lifes Fucking Fantastic. That is all.

Monday, September 17, 2007

And verily I do return to mine domicile.


... without ritalin, and with many a story of adventure... and a brain with a somewhat alarmingly growing pile of suicided braincells. I conclude that my braincells are indeed 'pussys' and should learn how not to be classified as 'lightweights'.

It is here that I will post extreme kudos to the people who I consider to be my friends (who may or may not still see me as their friends, after the enebriated antics of this particular octopus).
Special mentions must go out to the following though;

Cariad - Thanks for trying to kill me with jagerbombs and for dancing with me like no one was watching ;)

Dylan - Thanks for trying to finish Cariad's job by feeding me Black Russians, sorry to inform you, but you failed. I'm very much alive (although was mostly dead on Sunday).

James - You're so much fun, sorry if Cariad and I freaked you out on the dance floor ;) we'll make a groover out of you yet!

Ben - Great to meet you, and thanks for saving us from the waitress spittle; although I'm beginning to think the spittle would have been nothing in comparison to the damage that music was doing to my head (or was that the alcohol, I can't be too sure).

Scotty and Kurt - Seriously, you guys could have waited till later in the night to get your groove on... (I'm not talking about dancing either).

Tom - For not deserting me a second time ;) (Even though I'd have probably ran miles if I was my friend too!! )

There is probably more people who are Kudos worthy, but I have to satisfy that female element inside of me that has an insatiable appetite for all things drama related.

The chicken was extremely nice and it is with great pleasure that I am able to inform you all that I managed to make it through the dinner on Saturday night without attracting a "dinner badge".
Urban Dictionary defines "Dinner Badge" as:
Dried stains of kebab juice, curry sauce or gravy all over your shirt from messy eating.
And to use in context, "That's an impressive dinner badge you've got there. What did you eat, pizza?"
I would be suprised if there was not a secret bet going on between attendees as to whether or not Miss ~K~ would be unco enough to be wearing a Dinner Badge or two by the end of the night - I'd say congratulations to whoever won the bet, but it is likely that not one of the fifty or so attendees would have voted against me collecting one. Or more than one.

Oh ye of little faith!

I've chosen to fish something out of my inbox to end this entry with, many of you have probably seen it before, but it still makes me smile. Enjoy ;)

EVER WONDER where we are headed...

Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?

Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why you don't ever see the headline: "Psychic Wins Lottery"?

Why "abbreviated" is such a long word?

Why Doctors call what they do "practice"?

Why you have to click start to stop Windows XP?

Why lemon juice is made with artificial flavor, while dishwashing liquid is made with real lemons?

Why the man who invests all your money is called a "Broker"?

Why there isn't mouse flavored cat food?

Who tastes dog food when it has a "new & improved" flavor?

Why Noah didn't swat those two mosquitoes?

Why they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?

Why they don't make the whole plane out of the material used for the indestructible black box?

Why sheep don't shrink when it rains?

Why they are called apartments when they are all stuck together?

If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?

Why they call the airport "the terminal" if flying is so safe?

AND...

In case you need further proof that the human race is doomed because of stupidity, here are some actual label instructions on consumer goods.

On a Myer hairdryer: "Do not use while sleeping". (Darn, and that's the only time I have to work on my hair).

On a bag of Chips: You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside. (The shoplifter special?)

On a bar of Palmolive soap: "Directions: Use like regular soap". (And that would be how???)

On some frozen dinners: "Serving suggestion: Defrost". (But, it's just a suggestion).

On Nanna's Tiramisu dessert (printed on bottom): "Do not turn upside down". (Well...duh, a bit late, huh)!

On Marks & Spencer Bread Pudding: "Product will be hot after heating". (And you thought????...)

On packaging for a K-Mart iron: "Do not iron clothes on body". (But wouldn't this save me more time?)

On Boot's Children Cough Medicine: "Do not drive a car or operate machinery after taking this medication". (We could do a lot to reduce the rate of construction accidents if we could just get those 5 year olds with head colds off those forklifts.)

On Nytol Sleep Aid: "Warning: May cause drowsiness". (And...I'm taking this because???)

On most brands of Christmas lights: "For indoor or outdoor use only". (As opposed to...what?)

On a Japanese food processor: "Not to be used for the other use". (Now, somebody out there, help me on this. I'm a bit curious.)

On Nobby's peanuts: "Warning: contains nuts". (Talk about a news flash!)

On an American Airlines packet of nuts: "Instructions: Open packet, eat nuts".

I don't blame the company, I blame the parents for this one:

On a child's superman costume: "Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly".

On a Swedish chainsaw: "Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands or genitals". (Was there a lot of this happening somewhere?)


_

Now as for the many stories of adventures from the weekend, I'm in the process of writing a detailed account of as much hillarity as I can remember, which I will post on my personal blog space - will let you guys know when its posted and ready for your critical eyes.

While you wait for that, you may like to check this out ;)
Click Here. (Turn up speakers first...)
Signing off, for now, - Miss ~K~ xx.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

An Open Letter to Mother Nature

Dear Ms Nature

Firstly, allow me to thank you. For millions of years (or thousands, if your religious views swing that way) you have provided us with the rain needed to grow crops, the sun needed to keep us warm and alive, the trees, wildlife, grass, oceans, sunsets, sunrises, and a whole manner of other ecological and meteorological wonders. You have sustained the human race from evolutionary infancy to the dominant powerhouses we are today. We owe our entire existence to you, and for that you have people who bow down and worship you (and by bow down of course I mean dress in bright flowing colours and dance around playing the tambourine), while the rest of us just appreciate the natural beauty you have provided.

In light of this, I have but one question. Why do you hate us so much, you fucking bitch? You give us mild summers, freezing cold winters, and do not get me started on Septembers. Seriously, what is up with it being freezing fucking cold one day and sun out shining brightly the next? You make everyone sick (literally) with your inability to make up your damned mind about what you want to do today, and as soon as you settle on the idea (which is usually overcast and humid with a forcast of SUDDEN DEATH, everyone is so used to your randomness that they get sick again! Have you abandoned us? Or were the past couple million years one huge ploy to gain our trust before stabbing us in the back for laughs? Are you evil? Are you Satan? Either way it proves that you have been a wolf in sheeps clothing all the time. But I have discovered you, Mo- I have found out the truth and now I lay the facts out bare for the entire world to see. I know now that our eco system is sustained by a sadist so evil, you make Darth Vader look like a schoolyard bully. You make Hitler look like that one seagull that always snatches the hot chips from the mouth of the smaller ones you are trying to feed. You are nothing more than a bored kid out in the sun with magnifying glass, laughing maniacally as you burn ant after ant after poor innocent fucking ant.

I have a theory as to why you are like this. Paganism has died out, and neopaganism sucks. You want more worshippers, for you are a megalomaniacal attention-whore. But you are also an imamterial, intangible, and otherwise passive individual, so how does one gather followers when you can't materialise in front of them? Through acts of kindness and trust? No. The answer is FEAR. The message you are trying to broadcast is "WORSHIP ME OR I WILL THROW DROUGHT, FLASH FLOODING, EARTHQUAKES, MASS EXTINCTIONS, AND VOLOCANO ERUPTIONS IN YOUR FACES! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!". The thing is, Mo, us humans for the most part, don't want to worship you. We are battlers, and get through anything you throw at us. And now that the truth has been lain bare, we can resist. The purpose of this open letter is to declare war on nature. A war that we shall fight to the last man (and woman). A war that shall liberate our planet from your tyranny at all costs. A war that may last generations, but all the sacrifice shall be more than made up for in our total and complete VICTORY! So heed this warning, Ms Nature, gather what troops you have, and meet us behind the bike shed at recess.

Sincerely Yours
The General
Faceless and Secret Leader of The Resistance





DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a political, environmental, or religious message. The bitch nearly destroyed my party, and I am out for blood.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

ADHD, Blondes and Drugs... and the occasional octopus...

Dear Disciples of the religion that is Arsenic and Jubilation,

I must apologize for my lack of attentiveness over the last few moons, for I am having an affair. I have decided not to keep it a secret any longer. I promised myself I was going to stop it after the first time it happened, but alas, I couldn't overcome the urges.

I have a thing for blondes.

And its really difficult to keep my hands off them when there always seems to be different ones in my house. Sometimes they come with people, and other times I'm not sure how they get here and I will also admit to having brought them home on more than one occasion.

Quite often I take them straight to my room, without wasting time in the kitchen or showing them around, straight down to my room where I consume them. Sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, enjoying their divine flavor.

Blondes are better than reds, and I think they are wetter too. Nothing like a nice wet blonde. Mmmm.

After a hard day at work, its a very fine thing to be able to come home, pop a blonde, exposing the perfectly formed bottleneck... Oh my, you didn't realize I was talking about beer did you?

I can't believe I'm cheating on Jack with Beer, but being the student that I am, I cannot afford Mr. D's prices, especially not now that I'm heading out every other evening. Hopefully he will forgive me... if not, there will always be another blonde waiting in the wings... or at the bottle shop as the case may be.

In other news, I have come to the magnificent conclusion that someone who works at Metro, putting up posters on the bus, has a wickedly awesome sense of humor, or, just happened to accidentally provide me with what I have esteemed to be one of the funniest things I've had the honor of witnessing in 2007.

The front few seats on our buses all have stickers, which isn't unusual, suggesting that people please vacate those seats for elderly or disabled passengers. Which is fine. I have no problems with that. Nor did I laugh. But what did make me literally lol, was a poster on the wall of the bus above those seats which read;

"Please leave this seat free for potential organ donors"...(then in really really tiny print, which no one would be able to read, it goes on to say "well, actually, you can sit here, because anyone can be an organ donor..."

Now really, if you're not at least smiling about this by now, I'd be surprised.

Most elderly people can't read fine print, and I'm quite tempted to point the sign out to one of them who is sitting beneath it as soon as I get the chance. I think it would be quite humorous - I'm sure we've all had the pleasure of experiencing a slightly disgruntled elderly person before.

Sticking with the public transport stories, we move from Esmae the slightly disgruntled old bat, to my home towns very own 'Clive' 'the slightly too loud commuter'. Except our version doesn't talk on his mobile phone about the possible STIs he has, instead he will talk to the nearest unsuspecting passenger about his lack of recent sexual encounters and how 'fired up' and 'ready to go' he is, should he find a 'wanting lady'. Just between you and me, I don't think he will find a 'wanting lady' any time soon - but then again, stranger things have happened.

Speaking of strange things and sex, an interesting topic came up while chatting with a mate of mine a few nights ago. He added a new term to my vocabulary (which is quite odd, considering how extensive my sexual vocabulary is these days). The new term is "Starfishing" and it refers to the bottom partner during missionary type positions, when they just lay there and take it.

As it turns out, many of my male friends have complained to me of this very thing with their girlfriends, but they had not been referring to it as "starfishing" but I will edumacate them, for I think its an awesome term and hereby give serious kudos to its creator.

I also made the comment, "if lying there and doing nothing is starfishing, then I'm an octopus with ADHD who forgot to take her ritalin"... But I'll leave deciphering that one to your highly capable imaginations..

Until tomorrow, this is your ADHD octopus off in search of ritalin, or adventure ;)

- Miss ~K~ xx.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

*trips and falls into the limelight*

Many apologies for the late update folks, my attention was focused on conquering the universe, which is proving surprisingly easy! Well that, and the fact that assignments and work are the bane of us all.

I spent the first half of this year working an internship I hated, and was lucky enough to be done with it by the end of may. Now I have to recount the horror and dread in a report explaining what I learned. Here is what I learnt: That working in the taxi industry sucks, that working in a place where you are the only native English speaker sucks, that dealing with dodgy taxi drivers day in and day out sucks, and that getting paid under minimum wage [while not even being on the books]... you guessed it... fucking blows. The agreed conclusion to this 6 months in hell between Miss K and I was that:

In summary, I conclude that songtec are clearly using their technology to deliver subliminal messages to the monkeys of the world. These monkeys are gathering in extreme forces and will eventually become terrorist ninja monkeys using the intarnets guide i found on how to be a ninja, and some bomb making sites. My recommendation is that Australia gets new security as The Chaser boys proved we need it. The end. That will surely get me a pass! :-)

How awesome and ballsy are the Chaser boys, with not one, not two, but THREE awesome OPEC (uhhh sorry Austrians, I mean't APEC) pranks! Kudos to the guys who risked their liberty to give us entertainment and I am certainly looking forward to this weeks show!

It is interesting to note that the Chaser's roots go way back to the Crusades, when 5 knaves of the realm continually exploited weaknesses in King Richards security arrangements... sneaking pagans in through the fence to moon the royal court, pretending to summon demons in front ofhis generals for fun, not to mention having a team of artists to capture all the hilarity on high definition canvas, and thespians ready to provide a dramatic representation in the ampitheatre every Wednesday at 9pm sharp. These shennanigans henceforth evolved into the powerhouse that is the Chaser, and as you can see, not much has changed!

Alas, I must dive deep into the bowels of the laundry downstairs to retrieve mine work uniform and go bring home the bacon as it were. Tune in next week when I provide a pictorial account of the history of the Universe! ....maybe

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

If the world was literal, I'd piss my pants.

Keeping with c0mandr's theming regarding the English language, I thought we'd take a look at what it would mean if we took signs literally, particularly ones found on toilet doors.

Toilets are complicated.


Here are some of the signs I'm talking about;




And if I'm not wearing a dress....?




But I don't have a hat?!




A dog toilet??




Its suggesting we do what in the toilet??




So I have to wait till its really urgent?





Only if I'm a man with two left feet?





If I'm confused about my gender identity?





Its acceptable practice? If so, can I peer over the wall too?





Well, Its good to know where our kind is welcome.





Men, woman, and midgets in wheelchairs welcome?




Men to the left, Women to the right, but if your a baby or retarded, you don't get one.

Posted for shits and giggles - Miss ~K~ xx.

Monday, September 3, 2007

People Who Refer to Similies as Metaphors...

...need to sign up for a frontal labotomy stat kthx. There are very few things that grind my gears, but when someone comes out with "C'mon man you are slower than molasses on codiene" and the reply is "heh, nice metaphor", it just proves that many people are careless with the English language. Do they simply not grasp the concept of semantics? Or is it just that the word 'metaphor' sounds much cooler than the word 'similie'? On reflection, metaphor is a pretty cool word... I mean you can add 'meta' to the front of any word and it would sound cooler. Metaverse, metafiltering, metacrawl, metadata, metawhore.... ok maybe not that last one. It would be an interesting concept... a prostitute who continually refers to herself... particularly during the act... although such people are generally refered to as talkers and should be avoided at all costs.

Anyway back on topic, being difficult as I am currently distracted by brilliant guitar riffs and licks which are assaulting my eardrums like a Mongolian hoard against the Great Wall of China (pop quiz: was that a similie or a metaphor?), people really need to ensure that they have a thorough understanding of a word before they start throwing it all over the shop. It is much easier to use a similie, because it is a direct comparison. "it disappeared LIKE a fart in the wind... he's going LIKE a house on fire... she's like a tiger!" Notice the key word in there? Yep! Now onto metaphors... "All the world's a stage... she's such a cow... life's a bitch..." THOSE are metaphors people! Referring to something that it isn't, but makes sense in context, is a metaphor! So, think before you spew words from your cake hole like a righteous nun on a bender. (Count em, 2 metaphors and 1 similie in the same statement! I have more metaphors than you can poke a stick at! Whoops- there goes another one!)

Anyway enough ranting about the English language, and let's move on to LOLcats.





Actually I have nothing to say about LOLcats except they are awesome. It just seemed like a good thing to end the post on. Seeya!

Answers to the pop quiz: It was a similie, dumbass.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Today brings with it an epiphany.

"I wasn't meant to be a lady of the 21st century, I was meant to be a mongol warlord"

Some 800 years ago, a fearsome and charismatic warrior named Temujin united the nomadic tribes of Mongolia, in 1206 he assumed the title of Ghengis Khan.
I am sure that I do not need to remind you all that I am both fearsome and charismatic, not to mention beautiful, intelligent, captivating, alluring, creative and above all, incredibly modest. Oh, and I'm a woman and never wrong.

*cough*

It could be said that the K in "Miss ~K~" does not refer to the fact that my name is possibly Katherine, but is actually a reference to me being a Khan. The first female Khan at that, because up until now, all other females who applied for such status, fell short; 5cm too short infact. Mongol warlords were well known for their pillaging and plundering as are pirates and I spent many an intarweb year as a pirate wench aboard The Salty Mouthful. But alas, for that is a story for another time, and likely another place.

These days, Mongol warlords are much better known for laughing inappropriately at inopportune moments.

This guide , although it may make no specific reference to Mongol warlords, most definitely is worth reading - especially if you are a Mongol warlord, or if you are just suffering from inappropriate laughter.

"Laughing at other people (particularly strangers) can make them quite angry. If you feel the urge to laugh at someone who is trying to be serious with you, use any and all of the techniques listed to avoid laughing. The pain you save may be your own (especially if you laugh at someone you don't know well). Most people are able to deal with being laughed at, but some are very sensitive about it."

Some scenarios are worse than others when comparing occasions on which one has inappropriately laughed.

Should you have a cat loving best friend who has recently killed his prize winning kitten by shutting it in the fridge door, like as is shown below; its probably not a good time to laugh.



Being the Mongol warlord that I am, I verily proceeded to roll around on the floor for a good five minutes in hysterics.

Something more acceptable to be laughing inappropriately at, is the 'failed reverse park...#307' which always ends in hysterics as one of two things will happen. Either the driver will try multiple times and succeed after a period of 30 minutes or more, or the driver will try multiple times and give up, driving off to find a more suitable parking space (like an open air field). No matter which of these two outcomes, you can almost guarantee most people will laugh, regardless of whether they are a Mongol warlord or otherwise.



Youtube has some excellent examples of failed parking, even more so if you put the word 'woman' in your search options. Yes, I am allowed to make women driving jokes, as I am legally unable to drive.
Something to do with previously killing several pedestrians made them revoke my license. I can't help it if I had a complete GTA moment...



Sometimes laughing is not inappropriate, but completely warranted. Below is a good example.


Ultimately I think we have decided that even though my status as a Mongol warlord entitles me to continue laughing inappropriately at things, I should really add it to my list.


I bet you are most curious now as to what the other 16 points on this list are, but that, my friends, is something you'll just have to stick around to find out ;)

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Poker is a Strange Game

It seems as though everytime we gather around the coffee table (or down at the pub) for a game of hold'ems, the exact same thing happens to me. I lose. But not only that, I lose in the exact same way every time. I start off slowly loosing all my chips, a few minor wins here and there, then going all in on a no-hoper and winning several bucketloads of chips in the process. This invariably leads to over-confidence, and what do you think happens over the next 5 minutes to my collection of chips? I shall explain in pictorial form:

What keeps me going back week after week is the neverending hope to break out of this cycle. It's still the best game ever of course!

Onto more pressing matters at hand. I firmly believe that the tenants down the road who partied late into the night on Tuesday night should be charged with terrorism. Seriously, who parties on a TUESDAY? The week is still going uphill? And poor me, who has to endure 3 hours of multivariable calculus at 9am the next day, is forced to lay in bed and listen to drunken merriment all night long. I wouldn't mind so much even if the music was decent... but I think I heard the likes of Pink and Britney in the mix, which wanted me to drive a toothpick into my ears and turn my eardrums into chutney. Having said that, my friend deciding that the music for our last party being "the 80s", could have qualified for such chutneyfying of the eardrums.

Speaking of aural torture, I proceeded to take photographic evidence of the lunar eclipse the other night, only to be surrounded at the park by a coven of pagans, ceremonial dress and all, banging bongos, shaking tamberines, and blowing random notes on their 2nd-grade freebie recorders, all the while dancing in circles singing incoherantly. Now, tolerant as I may be of other peoples beliefs, it was damn well amusing to watch. So amusing i nearly missed the slip into totallity. Drove the dogs crazy too. Alas, I headed home when I realised that a gang of Catholics wasn't going to storm the ritual like a holy crusade. One of these days it will happen, and my smirky wishes for a Catholic vs Neo-Pagan bloodbath will ensue. I think I might open my own backyard fighting circle, kinda like cockfights, but without the birds. I'll put $50 on the reconstructionists to win over the roman sect, thanks! But then again, not only am i nearly certain that bloodsports are against my tenancy agreement, but I do not want some Wiccan council or the Vatican [eh, same difference really] raiding my domicile. But it might amuse the Mexicans.

Alright, I am going to make like a tree and get the fuck out of here!

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

C'est La Lune

Well, I'm not quite sure about the rest of you, but I believe that c0mandr and I excelled ourselves with the superfluous entertainment we provided last night for your viewing pleasure. I trust that you were all completely enamored by our display of Lunar Manipulation and I hope that now you have an understanding of the sheer potency of our combined power.

I stumbled across a paragraph today which I have decided to share with you all, for it is what c0mandr and I hope you will be able to relate to in the coming months of regularly visiting this page.

"My earliest aesthetic experience revolved around a small, clear plastic bottle of green-apple bubble-bath. To my parents a casually accepted free sample at the supermarket, it was to me a jewel that I discovered while my mother was giving me a bath. I was held in thrall by its endless greenness, its unctuous ooze, its divine smell. It left me dumb with pleasure."

'Dumb with pleasure' is indeed what we are hoping you will experience from the incessant ramblings and splinters of sheer verbal ingenuity spewing forth from our collective minds.

To share with you another quote, this time not aimed at you, but rather at myself, perhaps giving you further insight to my insanity, I leave you with this.

"My other earliest memory is vague, no more than a distant feeling that I can sometimes seize, most often not. Being so dimly remembered, perhaps it came first. I became aware of a voice inside my head. What is this, I wondered. Who are you, voice? When will you shut up? I remember a feeling of fright. It was only later that I realized that this voice was my own thinking, that this moment of anguish was my first inkling that I was a ceaseless monologue trapped within myself."


- Miss ~K~ x.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Beware, all ye who enter, for here there be Dragons!

14th Century AD: The Renaissance brings with it an age of cultural and scientific enlightenment
1949: The United States of America drops the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, killing hundreds of thousands.
1969: Man takes his first steps on the Moon, ushering in a new age of scientific achievement
1987: Pop singer Rick Astley releases his hit single "Never Gonna Give You Up", which sets in motion a string of events which leads to internet users everywhere being Rickrolled.
2001: Terrorists fly hijacked airliners into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, changing the political face of the earth for many years to come.
2007: Arsenic and Jubilation goes live. The above events are about to become as insignificant as the sneeze of a Mongolian woman hopped up on steroids and barley sugar.

August 28, 2007. A date which shall live in infamy. Unbeknownst to most of the human race, a rift formed in the space time continuum somewhere over Zimbabwe, and a little blog from another dimension slipped into our universe. It wandered for some time (entire seconds passed), before a couple of diabolical geniuses stumbled upon the hapless journal and decided to use it as an outlet for their undeniable insanity, warping its very existence to the point of being insane itself. It is this outlet that now explodes onto your screen as the epic that is Arsenic and Jubilation.

Hailing from an un-named country which may or may not have once been home to her co-blogging partner, Katherine has been combating a life fraught with addiction. Managing to overcome the worst of them, she is still very attracted to Jack Daniels and manages to find the time to indulge in the same on a regular basis. She has aspirations to study both Psychology and Sexology in order to understand herself better and gain even more engaging skills in the bedroom. She is eloquent, loquacious and purely insatiable and we just know that you will stick around so that you can bask in the insanity created by this dynamic duo.

Long ago abandoning what was offered by the Island state, Cameron has taken Sydney by storm. Under the guise of being an Engineering student, he is working for the man and scabbing from Centrelink, whilst playing guitar and xbox, wasting time on the internet, and bludging in the city. Photography is one thing that keeps his otherwise wandering attention, as is drinking to near excess whenever the situation calls for it. His lifelong dream is to be the proud owner of his very own blog in which to post his innermost- oh wait... Lifelong dream achieved! This is cause for a celebratory binge drinking session! /reaches for a beer

Whether you have esteemed Beer, Jacks or Arsenic to be your poison of choice. we invite you to grab a pint of it (thats right, a pint you lightweights), and settle in for a roller coaster ride into Oblivion.

Are you questioning our ability to surpass all of the aforementioned historical dates? Well, allow us to show you an example of the strength of our combined powers by making the Moon vanish... be watching now, but don't wander too far away, or you might miss out on our next trick ;).

Regards,
c0mandr + Miss ~K~