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**August**

It's a big ad!

I like it, it's funny.  It's very Australian.  OH MY SQUAD!!!  IT'S BIG!

If you haven't seen this ad, check out www.bigad.com.au (Copy and paste, dip shit!).

That's really all I have to say.  Can't sleep right now.  If I do, the clowns will eat me.  If you want to comment on this, go the bloody message board and create a post in the blog section.  Because I can't be arsed.

Posted by Chikory at 00:05.
Today is Tuesday, the 23rd of August, 2005.

Mighty Morphin Murderin' Rangers!

Wow.  I woke this morning just in time to hear the startling news.  According to Caroline of Mix FM, and CNN.com, Skylar Deleon, a once popular actor in one of the lamest shows ever, has been arrested on murder charges.  
SHOCK!  HORROR!
Seems the idiotic show not only screwed up millions of kids, but the some of the actors too.

SANTA ANA, California (Reuters) -- A former child actor and his wife were ordered to stand trial Tuesday for the murder of a wealthy California couple who, prosecutors say, were tied to the anchor of their yacht and thrown overboard alive, never to be seen again.  
That's just twisted.

Resulting from this shocking revelation comes one heck of an intelligent soul.  Seems he has an idea that could well be the solution we've all been looking for.  Anything water or boat related that resulted in death will now be a thing of the past if this little bugger gets this law in motion...
 
It's short, it's informative, it's boring.  My guess is you don't care all that much either.  I'm just basically posting for the heck of it.

Posted by Chikory at 18:28.
Today is Friday, the 19th of August, 2005.

Crop Circles!

It's no big secret that I dislike my sister whole lot, and I don't really know if she visits my website or not.

She has a fear of aliens, a big ass MASSIVE fear.  There was this one time that she was so scared that I went and shifted my mattress into her room so she wouldn't be alone.  Well, what's the point of this?  I was mucking around with that Google image map world doohickey thingy earlier, and I decided to spy on Atherton.  That's where my sister moved to, because the Great South East was too hot for her dole bludging husband (It made sense to them, I'm sure).  Anywho, I took this rather informative picky.


Notice the three suspicious circles?  I know they're nothing of the sort, but to me they look a whole lot like crop circles!  Could it be that the following creepy weirdos have touched down on the soil of Atherton?  Maybe they've got a secret base up there, watching the inhabitant's every move?  Maybe they're planing to invade sometime soon!

   
Sure, it looks friendly.  But would you really let it in your home?
 

Posted by Chikory at 18:20.
Today is Sunday, the 14th of August, 2005.

Moving...

It's about bloody time!  Finally we're getting out of the hell hole that I have had to call home for a couple of decades.  We've not found a place yet, but we're looking, and the fact that we've got dad on board means it's actually going to happen.  He's some what paranoid, and very reluctant to do stuff that involves large changes.  So typically what he does, and has been doing for the last few years, is he comes up with these bright ideas of shifting to this great new place.  Then when everyone gets all excited about it, he acts as if it were everyone else's idea, and then goes on to tell why we can no longer do it.
A cup of disappointment all round?

But mum and I have put our feet down.  We're sick to death of this hole, and we want out!  Every time we go out in public we're accosted by some hippie wanting us to damn Woolworth's for buying land and building a supermarket on it.  Oh the shame!
Or the weird guy on drugs, who jumps out from nowhere and announces that he will take you to court, he will bombard you, and he will win!
And how about the strange schizophrenic man who walks around hugging a pillow, which isn't just any ordinary pillow.  Oh no, it's an intergalactic space cushion!
Or that angry old soul, Max, Stan, and Brad (That's right, he's not just one man, he's all three!).  A 40 something year-old fart, who asks someone that looks the age of 16 if they've got a boyfriend, and then informs them that he has a nice house just up the road.  Ewwwww...
And how can we forget the retarded stalker with the wart on his nose who insists I look beautiful, and simply must stop to tell me that while he ogles me longingly every freaking time I'm at work.
Oh the joys of living in this hole.

So we're finally getting out, and we've got our sites set on states like New South Wales, and Victoria.  It's a lengthy process, one that mum and I are taking charge of.  First we pick out the houses we like, then we investigate the area.  If all checks out, we add it to our list of places to check out in person.

For instance...
We found this nice house in Nowra.  It passed all the specifications we had, and was in the top two on our list.  So tea in hand, and armed with Google, we set about finding maps and locating things we may or may not want surrounding us.  We found the following disturbing site: 
 
It's this hole all over again.

The fact it had two things that I don't want anywhere near me, and within walking distance of the place I'll probably have to work, was a real downside.  So I went to Google to see if anyone was pissed off enough to have voiced an opinion of Nowra via the Internet.  A search consisting of the words - "Nowra full of bogans", sent me towards our favourite snarkers - Caz and the Hack.  A few more searches later, and our suspicions were confirmed.  Nowra is not a place we wish to reside in.

We'll keep on looking.  

Posted by Chikory at 16:30.
Today is Sunday, the 14th of August, 2005.

Miniature rantation.  Issue #3!

I don't know if it's the return of Australian Idol that's influencing these crazy morons that roam the streets of the place I unfortunately reside, but there seems to be a new fad on our hands... obnoxiously singing in public.  I can't count the amount of people I've had in the past few weeks that have stood at my checkout and just started to sing along with the radio.  I would love nothing more than the pleasure of slapping them across the face.  But these stupid modernised assault laws prevent me from doing so.  Damn the Government!

It's not just at Woolies that these idiots do it though, it happens at Brumby's too.  I frequently bring my own cds to listen to throughout the day (Sure beats the heavy metal, repeat same song 5 times in the hour, radio stations the bakers are obsessed with playing.  I swear, if I hear that stupid Black Eyed Pee your pants song - Phunk with my heart, one more time, I'm going to run rampant with a tommy gun).  Because my cds are filled with old classic songs, I get the demented old people commenting and swaying to the music, then the most retarded of the retards will burst into song, and everyone wishes they were dead.


Another Insanity Streak cartoon, courtesy of the Woolworth's tea room newspaper.  Damn I love these...


There's this old cleaner that used to work at the mall but has since quit.  He's always been an arsehole, and I guess the fact that he has quit and moved on to "greener pastures", has made him think he's now a superior arsehole of some kind.  I'm sure you know the type, there's enough of them out there.
Anyway, he came into Brumby's today and pointed to the baguette.  Here's a quick illustration to help you see what he could see.
Arsehole:  "How much is that French stick?"
Me:  "That's the Baguette, and it's two dollars fifty."
Arsehole:  "That's not a Baguette!"

There's a friggin' sign on the thing stating that it's a Baguette!  Not to mention the fact that the price is sitting right there next to it.  And who is wearing the Brumby's uniform anyway?  Who was there at 7am setting the store up?  Who hung the signs under the baguettes and the French sticks?  Who SOLD the French sticks to the person who specifically asked for them?  The person who could tell the difference between the two, and decided they didn't want the Baguette because it was a French stick they were after.  ME!  I did!  Because I have been trained to tell the difference between the two... One is long, one is short.  WOW!  I can't believe I possess such basic knowledge skills!  
What's with these people who ask you a question and then tell you that you're wrong anyway?  If they're so bloody smart, why the hell did they bother to ask you in the first place?  Stupid stamens.

Heh, and how about this one.

Customer:  "What's that white loaf there?"
Me:  "White bread."
Customer:  "I'll have that one."
Me:  "Would you like it sliced?"
Customer:  "Yes."
Me:  "Thick or thin?"
Customer:  "What's the difference?"

I'm sure what this person meant to ask was how thick is thick?  But they didn't.  Instead they earned looks from random people standing around.  They were probably all thinking the same thing.  "Der!  One is thick and one is thin."  Incoherent bastards.  There'd be less misunderstandings if people would just bother to make sense!

The monkey says hi and the fish went wow.  But the cow thought they were both a pack of idiots so it ignored the pair of them.  OMG!  WTF?  LOL!!!!1  Did I just say that?  He he he, I did! fgasgrfgewfwedfdsgerg.


Next on the agenda, a massive pet peeve.
It's one thing to write these ones, or those ones.  But when you hear someone say it, they just sound stupid.  There's no need to say "ones" after these or those.  You've already specified what object you're referring to with that one simple word.  "How much are these ones?"  "What are those ones there?"
Go request a seat in the SEU (Special education unit) if you're going to talk like that.  Seriously, do you want the entire population to be illiterate faggots?


While we're on the subject of Hambo's post about the 25cents, I'm going to add this.  
I can't stand it when someone hands me a 50 dollar note for something that costs 2 bucks 20, and then goes on to proclaim that they don't have the 20 cents.  HELLO!  Did I ask you for the 20 cents?  No!  If I don't ask, don't say.  Speak only when spoken to.  That's the new rule!


Another thing that's cheesing me off is these people that waste my time.  They ring up, I rush through serving to answer the phone, only to find it's some dick head who wants me to tell them if one of the surrounding shops are open.  They found our telephone number, why the hell can't they find the one for the shop they're looking for?  They're ALL in the white pages, that's free... DUH!  It's such a waste of time, I lose business and then I feel bad that I didn't make the extra dollars for the boss.  I live among a bunch of tossers.


I came to a realisation today, I guess you could say an epiphany actually (Yes, I know I state that there are no epiphanies.  I lied, go figure).  The reason there are so many angry people in this hole that I call home, is not because they're just a bunch of arseholes.  No, it goes way deeper than that.  It's because they're a special breed of angry people, the kind that gets their anger from bitterness.  Bitterness caused by resentment, which is caused by jealousy of those more fortunate.  It's true!  These dole bludgers own nothing, and are nothing.  They know they suck, and they hate anyone that has anything; a car, a house, a job, anything.  They don't care that that person worked their arse off to get it.  They just care that they have it and they don't.  These people just want everything for free.  Bunch of stamenwits.

Okay, rant over.  I'm going to search for a message board to infiltrate.

Posted by Chikory at 17:02.
Today is Saturday, the 6th of August, 2005.

You space bastard!  You killed my pine!

Because it's now August, and I feel slack about not posting anything for a short while, I'm just going to bung this up.

First off, Bec Cartwright... Honestly, this week I don't think one person hasn't bought the New Idea magazine which features the two publicity whores on the cover.  I haven't bothered to even flick through this magazine, but I'm assuming by the cover that the whole thing is about their wedding.  Which brings me to the conclusion that all the people buying it are stupid, and enjoy wasting their money.  There are plenty of other good magazines out there to have a read of, the TV Week for one.  It's a practical magazine, it's cheaper than the others and it comes with a TV guide.  But enough advertising.




Insanity Streak.  I love this cartoon.  In Wednesday's paper last week I spotted another good one.  It's a clear illustration of everything that I stand for on the Internet.  Good spelling, grammar, and punctuation.  Sure, I'm not perfect, I didn't go to uni and learn all that crap.  But at least I try.  There's nothing worse than going to a message board or chat room, and having to wade through about three tones of garbage.  Hell, it's like a whole new language.
wot r u doin 2day  im goin to da shops coz dats all kwel n stuf
I mean for cryin' out loud, it takes longer to read because you've constantly got to translate what they mean!  Especially when they shorten a bunch of words like - brb, wb, w/e, afk, idc, idk.  Idiots.  
Imawjstamslt.  I wonder if any of the 1337 idiots out there will understand that condensed sentence.

My Insurance is due soon.  I have full comprehensive, and personally I'd prefer not to pay.  Who would.  But I noticed something in the leaflet they sent me with the bill.  They've said this on the radio a few times too, so I decided to look into it.
Now the only reason why I have the full comprehensive plan is because I am still paying my car off.  She's second hand, but practically new - a '97 Toyota Corolla Seca.  Heck, she only had 40 thousand kilometres on her when I got her back in 2003 (She was a company car).  But I'm getting off track now, so back to the point.  If she were to be written off, I'd want her replacing, hence the full comprehensive.  Yet in their brochure it states the following - 

Replacement of new vehicle after a total loss...

2.  At the time of loss your vehicle is no more than two years old from the date of original registration;

She's way older than 2 years.  

So I e-mailed them, and am still waiting for a reply.  I bet you anything, they won't replace my car, or give me a pay out should a car of the same make not be available for purchase.  If this is the case, they can stuff their expensive bill up their arse, and I'm just heading for third party.  Bastards.

I wouldn't mind, but on two other occasions I've tried to use my insurance, but each time it's worked out more expensive to.  For instance, the time that my evil sister's mother in-law reversed out of a driveway, across a busy stretch of road (that was rather wide), made a huge dent in my driver's side door, and drove off.  Hours later I return home only to find a message on the machine saying, "I think I might have taped Chikory's car."  
BULL SHIT!  Tapped my fat arse!  I started yelling that I was going to smack her one in the chops.  Then Boof Head (Evil sister's dole bludging husband) got all sulky because he's a big Nancy boy.

So that was the first time.  It was more complicated than that, not as clean cut.  But in the end we went through her insurance, and I got a new door skin.

The second time was when that shit stole my bag.  They wanted about 300 bucks or so to replace the locks.  It cost us about 188 to do it ourselves.

I hate insurance companies. 

Posted by Chikory at 10:00.
Today is Tuesday, the 2nd of August, 2005.