'That Guy'

Friday meant it was time to meet up with Team America plus The Flattie (formerly the flatmate) and her crew for after-work drinks at Ryan's Bar, a massive outdoor space with a big fountain in the middle. All well and good until a couple decided they should fall/jump (we're still not clear) into the fountain, only to be dragged away by security.

As the night continued I got progressively more intoxicated (funny how that happens), and eventually did what I've done a couple of times before -- decided that it would be a fantastic and responsible idea to take the bus home at 1am instead of a taxi. And so begins the tale of how I became 'that guy'.

So I stumbled onto the bus clutching my Indian chicken wrap, leading the bus driver to scold me for not finishing my food before I got on. That should have been embarrassing enough, but apparently I didn't agree.

I then sat down in the only remaining seat (probably elbowing the elderly and a pregnant woman out of the way), and somehow started talking to the people around me. This included an American girl sitting across from me, and it went a little something like this:


American girl: Where in the states are you from?
Zander: New York.
American girl: Oh okay, I'm from New Jersey!
Zander: Sorry about that.
American girl: That's not nice.
Zander: Neither is New Jersey! 'The armpit of America', in case everyone else here was wondering.

I proceeded to rag on the Jerz as loudly and obnoxiously as I could for a good 5 minutes before it was time for me to get off the bus.

Zander: Oh this is my stop!
Random girl: Thank god.
Zander: Hey, take it back!
Random girl: No.


I should seriously just get 'WINNER" tattooed on my forehead.

Behind The Music That Sucks

So granted, I am no authority on 'good music', whatever that is supposed to mean anyway. I appreciate crap simply because it's crap (with a catchy beat, of course), and I think there's nothing wrong with that. However, there is definitely something wrong with music that is so awful and lacking in appealing qualities that I can't even like it in an ironic way. And on that note, I present the following songs that are irritating the shit out of me at the moment:


Pussycat Dolls, "Beep"

It's upsetting enough that these silly twats made it past one hit wonder status (I will admit that "Dontcha" is a catchy track, even if it makes me want to jam steak knives in my ears) with a song moronically named "Stickwitu", but is this really the best they can drag off of the album for a third single? I'm sure it'll achieve some level of success based on their adoring fan base of 14 and under navel-baring females, but I don't think it should be cluttering up MY radio and music video channels. Good lord.


Kanye West & Adam Levine, "Heard Em Say"

I generally like Kanye's stuff, but what the hell was he thinking with this one? Attempting to listen to this makes me feel like I'm locked in a video game arcade hall with a whiny jewess (aka Adam Levine of Maroon 5), my only clear option is to throw myself through a plate glass window to get out, and somehow that seems less painful than staying where I am. My flatmate is currently trying to persuade me to go with her to a Kanye concert in March, but I might need to bring earplugs for this little ditty.


Beyonce, "Check On It"

Listen, B -- I realize this is only a soundtrack single, and it doesn't require nearly as much effort as a proper album track, but honestly, this isn't even a Destiny's Child B-side. And I think you know it too, judging by the way you felt the need to achieve new levels of nakedness and rap video skank-dom in the video for it. But you're better than that. We all know it. So let's just put this one behind us and move on to an awesome sophomore effort, mmkay? Love you too, you naughty girl, you. Zander xx

Happy Black History Month

I couldn't make it to Black History Month Karaoke this year, but in honor of it all, consider this my contribution:


I'd love to put this on the door to my office, but I think I'll wait until I'm past my first, say, 20 years in office before I'm quite that comfortable.

Belated V-Day Gift, Perhaps?

Presenting...the "Sweat-Heart Sweet-Shirt", whose brilliant concept is only improved by the pitch perfect looks on the models' faces.



If nothing else, this could potentially be the most irritating couples Halloween costume of 2006.

Like Woodstock, But Everyone Has A Job

This past Friday afternoon, yet again, I was retarded enough to utter the words "Yeah, I think it's gonna be a quiet one." Which means it's now Tuesday and I've only just recovered from the mess that was this weekend. Let us begin...

Friday

Well I started off with good intentions. A movie (Transamerica, hilarious and highly recommended) that was supposed to be the peak of my night. But hey, it couldn't hurt to meet up with a couple of people afterwards for a drink, right? Tell that to my exhausted body when it got home at 3 in the morning. That's fine though, cause I can always recover tomorrow.

Saturday

Or not. One thing that Australians LOVE is a good outdoor dance music festival. Good Vibrations is supposedly the best of the bunch, but considering it sounded a bit dirty to me ('festivals' always make me picture loser hippies rolling around in mud while high on ecstasy), I hadn't bothered to buy a ticket, despite the fact that the majority of the people I know in Sydney were going and the event was in Centennial Park, which you can see from my balcony.

So early afternoon rolled around, and I figured there wasn't any harm in having a few beers at a local bar with my flatmate (that's right flatmate, not roommate) and a few others who were getting ready to head over. I was quickly talked into going along with the group, and thank god I did.

There was lots of sun, lots of beer, great music (I recommend Estelle to anyone into hip-hop/R&B, and oddly enough, Talib Kweli is now the only artist I've ever seen live more than once, and he is still awesome), and thousands of really good-looking people all running around in barely any clothing. Actually that last one was almost annoying. You know that unrealistically hot body types that fatties are always complaining about the media portraying? Yeah, everyone had those. Not that I had the distinct urge to rip my shirt off in such a public arena, so I guess it's all good.

The big act that everyone had made a fuss about was Mr. James Brown himself. I think the preceding act also deserves a mention though -- a DJ mixing while about 3 white guys with fake afro wigs were breakdancing on stage, eventually stripping down to speedos and then g-strings before leaving the stage. WTF. In the end I was dead tired by the time James Brown finally got on stage, and I only really know like one of his songs so I left after 20 minutes or so to grab some food and walk home.

Sunday

Laying around by the pool and relaxing like it's going out of style. God damn it's a rough life.

How To Get A Raise

If you're one of my staff, walk into my office well before 4pm and ask me if I happen to want a beer. You will quickly be moved to the top of the list.

(Of course drinking beer when I still had work to do definitely wasn't seen as the brightest move when soon after I completely annihilated the structure of a major client website, but hey, there's people we pay to clean up these things.)

Right, Because THAT Makes It All Okay

Joined a few friends for some Thursday night drinks and pool playing last night. To my utter dismay, we ended up on the topic of bodily functions and how they play into relationships (my vote was for NOT EVER, most others gave me that nonsense about it being "natural", whatever people). Of course the entire discussion was made worth it by Therese's lovely story and acute observation...


Therese: This one time my friend was going down on a guy, and she vomited pumpkin soup all over him.

Everyone: Ewwww!!

Therese: Yup. And they kept going.

Everyone: Oh my god that's vile!!!

Therese: Well it wasn't a whole bowl!



Yeah, because it was the precise quantity of the pumpkin soup that was bothering us about that tale. Thanks for clearing that up, Therese.

Ways To Piss Off Your Movie-Loving Friends

Zander: omg Underworld: Evolution was SO...GOOD.

Phil: underworld? you really are an idiot

Zander: i'm serious! you have no idea...

Zander: kate beckinsale can express more emotion and feelings with her pouty face and two handguns than heath ledger ever could with his 'acting skills'

Phil: you know if you were drunk i might actually be taking you seriously right now. as it stands, i'll just ignore you.

The Tax Man Cometh, Indeed

Not to be a braggart or anything (ha!), but I just had to share my joy in doing my US taxes and finding out that I'm getting the biggest refund anyone has ever had. Okay, well it's not that impressive, but it's pretty damn sweet.

So I haven't completely figured out how I ended up with this much back from Uncle Sam. I figure one reason could be that I was taxed in a certain bracket, and then getting most of it back because I really only earned half that much by the time I left my job halfway through the year. OR it's because George W. Bush isn't as dumb as he looks, and thinks that by giving us a few thousand dollars back from our taxes each year, maybe we will all pretend that he hasn't violated the civil rights of all ordinary Americans, waged wars for oil, or been responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent people in foreign nations. And if it's the latter, all I have to say is screw those Republican bastards. But I'll keep the money. Cheers.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go buy myself some more money. Muahahahaaaaa.

Australian For Romance

I saw several odd things while on my way to work in the morning yesterday, but the best was definitely a conspicuous ad in the Sydney Morning Herald (this city's version of the New York Times) with the copy "This Valentine's Day, you can warm more than just her heart", with a picture of KY Warming Sensation Jelly, wrapped up like a bouquet of flowers.

How romantic.

*tear*

Drinking With Coworkers Should Not Be Legal

My new weekend style seems to be going all out on Friday night, recovering all day Saturday, and enjoying Sunday without a hangover. Is that what happens when we get old? In addition, I have seen a ridiculous number of movies over the past few weeks, which also seems like an old person thing to do. So, I figured before I head out to buy myself some geriatric diapers and non-solid foods, I'd give you my weekend recap:


Friday

First outing with the coworkers. It was a farewell for the most senior designer, and obviously an opportunity for me to break out some of my racist and misogynist jokes. Always a hit:

Me: Why couldn't Helen Keller drive?
Female coworker: Cause she was blind?
Me: No, cause she's a woman!

Badum shhhh. Yeah I'm sure I'll be commanding a lot of respect when I get into work this morning. Fortunately I stopped after the black man and a pizza joke, not wanting to pull out all the really good ones within my first month. Gotta leave 'em wanting more, I say. I then headed out into the night to meet up with several other folk for some more beer and dancing, all resulting in me feeling like death the next morning. Which brings us to...


Saturday

Bleh, nothing much going on here. Lunch, some pool playing and beer drinking, and finally seeing Brokeback Mountain which I suppose was good, but it was really long and I knew it wasn't my type of movie going in, so I'll refrain from giving a full critique.


Sunday

Another relatively quiet day, but I did see one more movie. And after seeing movies based on critically acclaimed books, or movies nominated for various Oscars, can you guess which one has been my favorite by a fucking MILE? That's right. Underworld: Evolution.

Man it's fun being vapid.

Australian Crap You Don't Care About, Chapter 274

Because I'm sure I can't even begin to imagine how badly my mostly American blog readers want to keep hearing all about a show that will certainly never even air in the northern hemisphere, here's an update on the remaining mingers from Australia's Next Top Model and how I feel about each of them:


Remember how I warned you that there were ugly girls on this show? Meet JESS. She's the girl who everyone keeps saying is 'edgy' or 'for a niche market', which roughly translates to 'the big pile of ugly, but let's keep her around so all the less attractive viewers can root for her and pretend that there's some different kind of pretty out there in the world that they can hope to achieve one day.' As the photographer on this week's show put it, "She's just not as pretty as the other girls, it's time for her to go." Mmm hmm.


Ah, EBONI. It's not just her name that's retarded, I should warn you. She's not bad looking as long as she doesn't open her mouth, but once she does you are left with no doubt that she suffers from a debilitating mental illness. And then in the last episode it was revealed that she had some kind of abnormality in the arteries leading to her brain. Shocker. Which will come first, elimination or a brain hemorrhage? Only time can tell.


LOUISE, the other remaining uggo. She has red hair, and let's face it, that's never gotten anyone very far now has it? She also has this ridiculously annoying habit of putting herself down at every judging, which just makes you want the judges to tell her "Damn you're right, you are fat, ugly and talentless...can you leave? No, we meant now." Oh well, I guess I'll have to wait at least one more week for that shining moment.


Hide your young boys (and any of your own exposed sexual organs), because MADELEINE is on the loose. At my last count, she has made out with at least two of her competitors, and also slept with one guy per episode for about four weeks in a row. They will seriously have to bury this bitch in a Y-shaped coffin. Other than her chunky legs I wouldn't call her unworthy of winning, but I'm thinking the World Health Organization wouldn't let her win simply on the grounds of her potential to spread exotic strains of syphilis all over the globe.


And finally there's SIMONE. I actually don't have anything bad to say about her. True, her look isn't particularly interesting, but she's hot and she hasn't annoyed the shit out of me just yet, which makes me think she's the eventual winner. Then again that's what I said about one of the girls in the last cycle of American Top Model, and then that whiny annoying twat Nicole won, so what do I know.





Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go get a life.

America, F#ck Yeah!!

I just knew it was going to be an awesome Friday night when at around 4.45pm my boss walked out of his office and announced that it was officially "beer o'clock" and handed some petty cash to one of the staff, who shortly reappeared with a slab (24 bottles) of beer and began handing them out. Then again maybe it was some sort of substance abuse test, which I consequently must have failed since I literally had four beers in the space of 40 minutes while everyone else had one each. If it comes up, I plan to argue something about cost efficiency. No, I'm not quite sure what I'm talking about either.

Anyway, once I'd finished my beer, I headed to Jon Jon's place, as did the rest of Team America. I was a good boy and stuck to vodka and beer, as did most of the team. Scooter and Danny, however, decided that the mood was right for some vodka, some gin, a few shots of tequila, and a few beers to top it all off. Which was alright for Danny seeing as he's a big guy, who only got a mild telling off from the bar staff for being slightly beligerent. Little Scooter Lachey on the other hand weighs about 27 pounds on a good day, and ended up worshipping the porcelain gods shortly after we had arrived at the local drag bar to watch a few shows, and girlfriend Kate ended up hauling him home. America, represent, guys.

The rest of the weekend was a quiet one, since most of us were relatively incapacitated by Friday night's festivities, pictures of which you can view here (all completely out of order, not quite sure how I managed that). I had a great photo of Scooter that I wanted to include with this post, but Blogger Photos has decided to take this moment to fuck with me, so I guess we're all losers.

And now back to that little thing called 'work', which I'm surprisingly not such a big fan of. (Actually it's not that bad at all, but I think I underestimated how hard it would be to walk into an office when it's beach weather outside, damnit.)

Ain't Nuthin' Desperate About This Housewife

So this week, we backwards people down in Australia are finally getting the latest seasons of all the hot shows, which they save until after the holidays (which in true Australian fashion aren't officially over until Australia Day on the 26th). While I was originally was irritated that I'd have to wait an extra 4 months to watch my "stories", everyone obeyed the order not to leak any surprises about my favorites like Lost and Desperate Housewives, and I'm really happy that they don't do that thing like in the US where there are new episodes for a month and then reruns of those episodes for the next month. Sweeps are stupid. So the only show that we aren't getting now is the second season of Project Runway (they're just catching up and showing the first season now), I suppose I can wait for that bundle of awesomeness for just a few extra months.

In the meantime, I realized that with my TV shows and me working and all, my life is starting to resemble the one I had in NY, except with far more beer and better weather. So I thought I'd take a chance to reflect on the things I've learned about myself over the past few months of relaxation...

I can cook! Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who's cooking skills previously consisted of mac and cheese and instant ravioli. But due to my fear of screwing meals up, I generally stuck to pasta dishes and the occasional roast chicken. However with 5 months of nothing in particular to do and the kitchen/apartment to myself, I got a little experimental, and have since cooked things like Moroccan lamb stir fries, chicken cacciatore, beef stir fries, and even some lemon sage chicken recipe that I learned off of some dude on the telly. The great thing about cooking is that you only need to really learn two of three things, and people will think you're a genius in the kitchen. Suckers.

I can do laundry! As I believe I've mentioned here before, I hadn't done my own laundry since some point in college. So when I moved into this apartment and found that we had a washer and dryer en suite, I was actually a little disappointed (and scared) because I realized that I no longer had any excuse to pay someone else to do my laundry for me. And guess what? It's not that bad. I know this sounds like not much of a revelation, but it's kind of huge for me. Other than the filipina woman I have in to actually fold the clothes afterwards (kidding!), the process really isn't that bad. And for those familiar with my formerly filthy Manhattan portage messenger bag (man bag, if we're being honest), it is now sparkling clean like the day it was stitched together by Malaysian immigrants in a sweatshop in New York. Yay!

I can iron! And it fucking sucks. Seriously, who does their own ironing? So I did it once when I had to iron all my shirts for my first week of work, and it blows, and I have since located a dry cleaner in my neighborhood who can do it for me, albeit at twice as much as I used to pay in Brooklyn. But that's what I get for moving to a "posh" (read: stuckup) area, I suppose.

I like Oprah! Who knew. I seriously had NEVER watched an episode of Oprah before I moved down here, but a couple of cloudy days when I couldn't head to the beach and I quickly discovered that this show is awesome and she seems like a cool chick. What is it that's so gratifying about seeing her give stuff away??


Ah well, those days are over. But I think it's important that I value those lessons, even if I go back to my pasta dishes, no Oprah, and having Koreans handle my work shirts. (wow this hasn't been a great blog post for Asians, has it??)

*I feel I should also mention that I attempted to graft my face onto that housewife's body, and it just looked really creepy and inappropriate, even compared to my previous attempts at graphic art.

This Is What I'm Being Paid For, Right?

So there's a link going around to some "Implicit Association Test" from Harvard or something like that. Point is, this is what you should be doing instead of working. And if I have the balls to do it in front of my entire team only days after beginning work, I don't want to hear any pansy ass excuses about "workloads" or "bosses", AIGHT?

They're a bit more serious than the nonsense you're going to find on Tickle.com or OKCupid, but that can only mean that they are to be taken in utter seriousness, and you are completely warranted to commit suicide if the responses are upsetting. Here are my results:

Black-White: I have a moderate automatic preference for white people. I blame this on America.

Young-Old: I have a slight automatic preference for young people compared to old. Um, you imagine grandma getting out of the shower and I dare you to disagree.

Fat-Thin: I have a moderate automatic preference for thin people. Shocking.

Gay-Straight: I have a moderate automatic preference for straight people compared to gay. So do most members of the gay community. With good reason.

Jews: I have a moderate automatic preference for other religions compared to Judaism. And really, can you blame me?

Arabs: I have a slight automatic preference for other people compared to Arabs. In my defense, however, I simply love their food.

Dubya: I have little to no automatic preference between George W. Bush and Recent Presidents, but let's consider the fact that they included Reagan in the other group. Take out the Republicans and my result would have been "Relatively speaking, your feelings about Recent Presidents are disturbingly sexual when compared to those about President Bush." But hey, I didn't make the tests.


So yeah, that's all I really got out of this. I'm a racist, ageist, fattist, homophobic anti-semite who doesn't exacly love Arabs and might vote Republican in an upcoming election. Now where'd I put that razor blade...