December 12, 2011 § Leave a comment
“It’s very important that we respect the importance of families … and the rights of children to at least start life with a mother and a father.”
Welcome to Tony Abbott’s reason for opposing gay marriage and instructing his colleagues to do similarly. If you are a journalist who enjoys access to Tony Abbott, please ask him the following questions (word for word):
1. Mr Abbott, how does allowing a same sex couple to marry disrespect the importance of families? Surely you’re not suggesting that the minute a gay couple marry they’re going to head out on a family-bashing spree, spitting on kids, punching and kicking their parents in their FILTHY HETEROSEXUAL CHILD PRODUCING GENITALS. Or is it your fear that once legally bound they’ll be perfectly positioned to launch their insidious attack upon the sacred institution of marriage ‘from the inside’. Tony, GAY COUPLES IN LONG TERM RELATIONSHIPS ALREADY EXIST AND OUR FAMILIES ARE DOING FINE. Again, how will this change if two men or two women are allowed to commit themselves tenderly to each other in the same way hetero couples are (you stupid, discriminating prick)?
2. OK, now about these rights of children to start life with a mother and a father. Please consider the following parental combos:
• Alcoholic father – drug addict mother.
• Physically violent father – psychologically damaged mother.
• Sexually abusive father – turn a blind eye mother.
• Porn addict father – dead mother.
• Dead father – resentful, abusive mother.
• Workoholic neglectful mother – Very tired, always sleepy, bong toting father.
• Invert each of the above combos.
Mr Abbott, is it seriously (like… seeeeriously) your view that any of these undesirable parental combinations, combinations we all accept exist extensively throughout Australian society, are superior to the love a child will receive in the care of a loving, well adjusted, same sex couple………….. Sorry Tony, didn’t quite catch that…… No? Right. OK. Great! Now having unexpectedly grasped that concept, can you wrap your giant bird-moth ears around this one:
• Loving, well adjusted father – loving, well adjusted mother VS loving, well adjusted same sex couple.
Extensive research shows that same sex couples raise equally balanced (and often equally unbalanced) kids as those raised by hetero couples, because Mr Abbott, as you may or may not be aware, the key to successful parenting doesn’t lie in your willy or your Vjay-jay. Successful parenting lies in your ability to provide children with love, and care, and freedom, and boundaries, all in equal measure, shepherding your cherished babies beyond harm so they may live long enough to enjoy harmonious, productive lives, at one with the world and those around them. WAIT… Tony, waaaaaiiiit… I know what you’re going to say… ‘so how on God’s Earth can two women possibly shepherd a child beyond harm the way a man can?’ Well I don’t know a lot of lesbians Mr Abbott, but the ones I’ve met would happily and easily kick the shit out of a swaggering, dribbling old bigot like you.
So Mr Abbott, I put it to you that your fierce OPPOSITION TO EQUALITY FOR ALL AUSTRALIANS, (because let’s not pretend it’s anything else), stems not from some carefully researched position – not from broad consultation with the homosexual community, but from your belief in the ancient teachings of a man called Jesus Christ, and that your consistent inability to separate matters of Church from matters of State renders you unfit to ever occupy the highest office in the land. On behalf of all clear thinking Australians I demand that you reverse your opposition to gay marriage and admit to everyone, (in a loud clear voice – none of this ‘uh… uh… um… let me just… uh… if you’ll just… uh.. uh.. um’ bullshit), that you realise deep down in your black, backward beating heart that gay people have as much right to get married as everyone else. That’s it, Tony… LOUD CLEAR VOICE!
August 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
Lying in bed this morning I found my mind jumping from one crazy thought to the next: ‘I wonder what happened to my old friend Trudi Burfitt. Funny how you miss people from… Lions are sooooooo awesome with their big furry manes and their… Man, my balls itch, like reeeeally itch… I want a pool, no I need a… how hot is Miranda Kerr? Fuck Orlando Bloom with his awesome name and his brilliant archery skills. He can… Oh wow, kidneys. What’s going on with my… Gee, Adriana Xenides died young. Life’s pretty cruel when all is said…’ And so on.
Now, I’m a guru. I’ve trained like a Jedi to tame the rogue elephant that is my mind. But often, still, I find myself at its mercy, and this morning I just couldn’t find room between my thoughts. They were like epileptic sardines thrashing into each other, sharing vital organs, keeping each other alive, and it was pissing me off. On one hand my mind was like: ‘Fuck you, out-of-control thoughts, just give me a break and I’ll buy you a… Jesus, I wouldn’t know what to do with Miranda Kerr even if she… Gotta piss. I gotta piss before I… Poor Adriana. Hey, and poor Amy Winehouse. Addiction is a terrible disea… Kookaburras!’ And on the other hand, my mind – the same mind – was pleading for quiet.
Then I remembered something, something that will change your life forever, something I’m gonna share with you right now. Remember in Primary School they’d line you up with your classmates and say, ARMS LENGTH APART. And without thinking you’d stick both your arms out to the side, putting some space between you and the kids next to you. Such a simple way of organising a bunch of rowdy tweens, no machinery required, no cattle prods, no screaming blue murder, just, ARMS LENGTH APART and fwooosshh, there you had it! It was almost as if – after having other kids leaning and swaying and rubbing and dribbling all over you – you craved that space. Suddenly you were being given permission to push away the clutter of other smelly little bodies, to create an exclusion zone around yourself.
Well this morning, I recalled that age-old instruction and calmly issued it to my thoughts. ARMS LENGTH APART. And all of a sudden they fell quiet, stuck out their weird little thought arms and shuffled an arms length apart giving me space to move between them. I could walk between Miranda and Orlando, skip between the awesome furry Lion and my throbbing kidney. There was light, silence and stillness between them. Even Adriana’s premature death was OK because there was an arms length between her and Amy, giving me room to ponder each of their tragic plights in isolation of the other.
So when you’re in bed, or driving, or playing cricket or Yahtzee, or making love to your partner of the hour, and those crazy waves of thought come crashing in, make like a schoolyard Moses – ARMS LENGTH APART. That vital half-a-metre between brain spasms might just get you through. (Or it might not and you should hit the Xanax. Your call.)
July 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
I’m not gay but there are some guys I’d rather have sex with than others if, say, all the women on Earth mysteriously died, my hands fell off and I could no longer masturbate, or the Government forced me to. This list includes Johnny Depp (who fucking wouldn’t), Ewan McGregor (such a rascally rabbit), and Ricky Martin (he’s had some good reviews). But under no circumstances would I have sex with Tony Abbott and here are 10 reasons why.
1. He’s a fear mongering arsehole.
2. See 1.
3. He takes too long to say stuff. Those gigantic pauses between words would shit me to tears and I’d have to a) finish his sentences for him, b) ask him to talk a little faster, c) thrust a little harder.
4. He would oppose my every move for oppositions sake. For instance:
ME: How about we –
TONY: – No!
ME: But if I can just get my leg through –
TONY: Not on my watch!
ME: Well would you mind if I just get in here behind you and –
TONY: – Missionary or nothing, dipshit.
5. He opposes a tax on big polluters. What backward thinking idiot opposes a tax on big polluters? I couldn’t sleep with any man who opposes a tax on big polluters.
6. After bickering over who sleeps in the wet spot (him), we’d argue about religion and I’d say, ‘Tones, mate, if this God of your’s sent his son, Jesus, to explain himself to us, you’d think his son might have included in at least one of his speeches that his omnipotent father was not of that time, had a whole fucking Universe to deal with and wouldn’t be involving himself in the petty affairs of the day like gayness, sex during menstruation and all of that other Leviticus bullshit.’ And in fact, I think Tony’s Catholic guilt would ruin the whole homosexual experience for both of us.
7. He has three incredibly hot daughters and his wife’s not bad either. It wouldn’t be fair to be fucking him while I’m thinking of them.
8. He’s very fit. He would drain me physically.
9. He has such silly ears. You can’t make wild, unbridled love to a man when you’re busy laughing at his ears.
10. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could shoot my load across the room at him. He fans the flames of fear for political advantage. He accuses this government of dishonesty when he himself was one of Howard’s most ardent admirers/foot soldiers. He has himself admitted he cannot be trusted to tell the truth all of the time. He conveniently forgets that not so long ago he supported a price on Carbon: Quote, ‘If you want to put a price on carbon, why not just do it with a simple tax?’ Unfuckingquote! He is a sexist, dangerous, deeply negative player on our political field and it concerns me greatly that he already holds as much power as he does.
For these reasons and many more I will not be sleeping with Tony Abbott and I urge all decent men not to do the same.
July 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
Being a celebrity Guru, people come to me seeking clarity on a range of issues, from bed-wetting to eating disorders to choosing a reliable internet service provider. Yesterday I spoke with a young man who was having trouble pleasuring his lady friend and I realised there are probably millions of young men out there with plenty of will but not much way. Obviously I’m not about to hand over any of my awesome moves but I will provide a few basics that might help the clueless young buck enter the bedroom, (or phone box, or toilet cubicle or public swimming pool), with a little more confidence.
Do not fake it. If you know you’re a shit root, don’t pretend you’re good because your partner will find you out in under 4 seconds. Recognise your inexperience, acknowledge your inadequacies – your small penis, your boring average sized penis, your stupidly large penis, your unusually big dark nipples, your super hairy nut-sack, your over-productive sweat glands, your excessively low pleasure threshold, your poncho-like foreskin – accept these things and declare to your partner before reaching for the zip, ‘I am unlikely to meet any of your sexual needs.’ This way she has the option to walk away and find a more competent young man to have sex with, or she can rapidly downgrade her already pitiful expectations of you.
Foreplay. Just because you were ready to fornicate after she brushed against your leg leaving Hungry Jacks, doesn’t mean she was. The female has wildly different machinery to yours. It’s an elaborate maze of psychological, biological and sexological freakiness. So in much the same way that your team trainer might warm you up before the game, you must warm her up, (minus the Deep Heat). Be gentle, but not too gentle. Be commanding, but not too commanding. Use every part of your body (except your elbows) to prepare her for lovemaking. Be guided by her gasps, her twists and turns, her fingers pointing at stuff, any lists she might make. And after an hour or two when she asks, Is everything OK down there, say yes, even if you’re dangerously high on her musky scent or drunk on her… um… intoxicating ladyness. Just go easy on the slurping sounds, they’re embarrassing for everyone.
Never cry after your first orgasm. The first assisted ‘spilling of seed’ marks a monumental moment in the life of any young male, but crying for your lost innocence is immeasurably uncool and will in no way endear you to your partner. In fact she will find it ridiculous and repulsive, her friends will mock you, and within a week you will be known nationwide as The Boy That Cried When He Came. SBS might even make a documentary about you but don’t worry, you’ll be too busy committing suicide to notice. Honestly, the only tear you should shed for your lost innocence is the big thick pearly one leaving your body at 100 kms an hour.
You are an animal. If you become anxious prior to the act of love-making, it might help you to remember that fucking is our sole reason for existence. Nature doesn’t care if you’re good at Connect Four, able to simultaneously rub your tummy and pat your head, or just a really fun dude to hang out with. Put delicately, nature wants you to find a woman preferably less than half a century old and ejaculate into her vaginal cavity so that the human race can go on. So when you’re lying there all nervous, at half-mast, waiting for her to finish her secret bathroom business – bare your teeth, give the old boy a shake, and scream viking-like into the nearest pillow, THIS IS MY DESTINY. Seriously dude, you’re gonna be fine.
Please share this through your Facebook page so that other young men and ultimately women may benefit from my rare gifts and insights. Thank you. You’re welcome.
June 30, 2011 § 2 Comments
If some Christians are to be believed you’re not that nice. In fact, you’re a disgrace. You’re a lying, sinful, miserable piece of shit floating aimlessly in your own sordidity, and the only time you’re doing any good at all is when you’re down on your knees, licking God’s unfathomably deep arsecrack. Personally, I think it highly unlikely, (and unreasonable), that some supernatural entity demands the adoration of a bunch of degenerate primates, (that never even asked to be created), in return for creating them. ‘Love me or rot in Hell’ seems a little petulant for the vast, all knowing father-figure that created THE ENTIRE FUCKING UNIVERSE in 6 days. But that, my friends, is beside the point.
The point is that I have a slightly more optimistic view of human nature. For the most part I think we’re doing OK, but there is room for improvement. So here’s my three step program to being slightly better than you are now.
Number 1: Quit bitching. Seriously, everybody’s so busy dealing with their own shit – their heartbreaks; their magic mushroom flashbacks (‘Pelicans are cool. I’m a pelican. I’m a human pelican. Hey, I really am a human pelican… but… but where’s my bill? WHERE’S MY BIG FLAPPY THROAT BILL THINGY?’); their dead-end jobs with their cock-munching bosses; their soul-sucking, guilt peddling families – everyone’s so busy with their own shit, no-one gives a fuck about you and your never-ending issues. So what if your scrotum feels a bit tingly? So what if your best friend keeps forgetting your name? So what if your husband ran off with the one and only Mormon you ever invited into the house? GET OVER IT! I’m actually a trained guru who gets paid to give a shit, and I don’t. In fact, most of my Uni training focussed on trying to stay awake and feign interest in people’s problems. So don’t go kidding yourself that anyone really cares. Sadly, the person you’re pissing off most with your whinging and whining is you, constantly reinforcing your own negative perceptions of who and what you are. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Here… do this quick test to see how awful your life actually is… ARE YOU ALIVE? Yes? Well shut the fuck up and be thankful that out of all the things that will never, ever, ever come into existence, you’re not one of them.
Number 2: Show compassion. It might surprise you to find that being nice to people feels quite good. You don’t have to go spoon-feeding fly-blown AIDS orphans in the Congo every three months, (although that’ll rack you up some pretty serious karma points). Start by paying the odd superficial compliment here and there. Toss a busker that useless New Zealand coin the bitch in the deli refused to accept. Offer your friend some Twisties when he’s looking the other way then quickly pull the bag back before he becomes aware of the offer. At least you offered! Just be a bit nicer and you’ll feel a bit nicer. It truly works.
Number 3: Do things that that make you feel good. Sex and associated activities with a trusted (or not) partner are awesome but I’m told there are other things that can make you feel pretty amazing too. Unfortunately I don’t have time to look into that right now but if you try a google image search on oh fuck that feels good you’ll get some clear ideas. (WARNING: A google image search on oh fuck that feels good will lead you to explicit heterosexual & homosexual imagery that will get you fired from your job and talked about long after you’re gone).
So there you go! Three quick tips to becoming a happier, more livable person. And before you go thanking me, thank yourself for taking the first tentative steps down the long, exciting road to self-betterment.
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June 27, 2011 § Leave a comment
Being a guru, a lot of people tell me their dreams and ask me what they mean. So after undertaking some intense but limited research I’ve written this book to keep by your bed, so that when you wake up wondering why your dad’s right ear was on fire or how come you were running in slow motion when THE CHICKEN OF DEATH was chasing you, you’ll have an easy reference guide to your dreams. Here are some examples of what the book contains:
The penis that saw too much: If you dream that your penis or the penis of someone you know has seen too much, it is likely that you are about to inherit a great deal of wealth from an unknown benefactor. Unfortunately, if the penis seems pleased to have seen too much, this inheritence will not eventuate because the penis didn’t have respect for boundaries and would not have managed the money well. However, if the penis seems upset about having seen so much, if it seems to be crying, it shows that you are remorseful, respectful of privacy and the inheritance will be yours.
The Falling child: To dream of a child falling means that you are not drinking enough milk and are likely to develop osteoporosis in a few years time. Obviously the child represents the milk and the falling represents you when your legs won’t work properly.
Running in slow motion: Many people dream they are being chased by some form of enemy and can only run in slow motion. Let’s explore why. If a bear was chasing you when you were awake, you wouldn’t be running in slow motion, so why when you’re asleep? EXACTLY! When you’re asleep you run in slow motion because you’re asleep. Like seriously, who couldn’t have figured that out? Jung schmung!
Tom: If you dream of a person called Tom, you’re going to have a good day. Toms are traditionally strong, cheerful people who get on with things and set a good example to those around them.
The donkey and the Eskimo: This is a rare but significant dream. As you know, for centuries donkies have helped Eskimos carry their belongings on long, often arduous journeys across the ice. Dreaming of a donkey and an Eskimo together signifies that your spirit is in perfect alignment with the Universe and that you’re probably going to have a baby soon, even if you’re over 71 and have ‘had the snip.’
Licking and sucking a dollop of cream from the tip of a banana: Your potassium levels might be a bit low.
Your great great grandmother was a whore: To dream that your great great grandmother was a whore can have multiple meanings. If she was a wealthy whore it means she was quite attractive and that men would pay good money to have sex with her. If she was a poor whore it means she may have been a really lovely person in her heart but would not have made such a good prostitute and hopefully found work in other fields. Clearly this dream doesn’t mean your great great grandmother was a whore, (although she may have dabbled). It just means that maybe your Mum is one, or that your Dad might be having an affair with an older woman who looks like your Mum… your Grandma maybe – fuck, I don’t know…work it out for yourself!
So please keep an eye out in bookshops for my book. It hasn’t been published quite yet, but Allen and Unwin assure me that it will be on shelves once they’ve done some ‘veracity checks’, whatever the hell that means.
June 26, 2011 § 1 Comment
This week, if you’re unhappy with your own horoscope, look down the list and use someone else’s. It’s not like any of this shit is real anyway. Just kidding… live by the stars, die by the stars! (Not really, do whatever you want).
ARIES: Lesbians. That’s what your stars are telling me. You either are one, you’re gonna be one or you’re in love with one and you don’t realise it yet. Whatever the case, it’s a win win win situation.
LEO: Immediate family members will be crucial to your sense of well-being this week. Try to avoid them.
LIBRA: Far be it for me to recommend the use of illegal narcotics but some high grade opium or peyote might provide the dose of true self-awareness you’re so chronically lacking. STOP TOUCHING YOUR WORK MATES INAPPROPRIATELY!
SCORPIO: Last week’s concern for friends in need did not go unnoticed. Look forward to 7 magical days with plenty of people offering you kind advice, foot massages and oral sex.
TAURUS: You know what, Taurus? Do whatever the fuck you want this week and let’s see what happens. Seriously, go nuts, run riot, live instinctively, then drop me a line from your prison cell next Sunday begging for clear direction next week.
CANCER: Make this the week you go out and reach for some of those goals you’ve been dreaming of, like stealing underwear off peoples’ lines, dressing up, taking photos of yourself, then sending them back the photos OR getting a better job. You choose.
SAGITTARIUS: Hey, you know how everyone has one person they just wanna punch in the face whenever they see them? Well this week, for most of the people you know, you’ll be that person. Keep your ratty little head down and don’t make eye contact with anyone, especially a man called Dennis.
VIRGO: Stop trying to please everyone. You look stupid and needy and you’re an embarrassment to your ancestors. (Oh, and everyone thinks you’re secretly a prostitute.)
AQUARIUS: Make some space in the garage because with Mercury in the 5th house and Jupiter in the 7th, you are going to fucking OWN this week. (Terms and conditions apply: Mercury may not be in the 5th house and Jupiter may not be in the 7th. I don’t even know what a ‘house’ is, but I love how mystical it all sounds).
GEMINI: Strive for balance in all areas of your life this week, especially in your sexual relationship(s). You’ve been spending a lot of time on top lately. Maybe it’s time to lay back or bend over and let others enjoy the ride.
PISCES: Just… whatevs. You know what to do.
CAPRICORN: What are you, dude… a goat? Seriously, do you really think the stars give a shit about goats? I reckon Pythagoras was struggling when he came up with old Capricorn. Hmmm, let’s see… I’ve got 11 signs… one to go… late night… way out of ideas… what’s lying around out here in the middle of the desert – Hey, there’s a goat. A GOAT! That’ll fucking do. Look, I think you’re in for a pretty cool few days, just don’t eat clothes or a plastic bucket or try escaping from your paddock.
These are the most accurate star readings you will find on the internet. Share them with your friends through facebook so they can benefit from my rare gifts and insights.
Terms and Conditions: All star readings are accurate at time of publication. HC reserves the right to alter readings based on what he believes to be best for any particular star sign.