so, it appears i am back, or something.

as proof of my continuing bastardry, here is a poster i made (and had printed) for a friend of mine, who in every way has earned it.



yeah, it's late and i'm tired.

If there is one show I hate as much as I hate Big Brother, it's Idol. I hate the concept, the marketing, the theme song, the contestants, the way it takes over my television seven days a week. Don't get me wrong, I hate television to begin with, but 'programs' like this atrocity make it unbearable to even own one.
Even those of you living under a rock could not escape the hype that surrounds this show every single season. If the marketing team found a way to invade people's dreams for the purpose of advertising, I would not be surprised. That being said, here is a quick summary of the show - every episode begins with me throwing the nearest object at the television, and ends thirty seconds later when the television goes over the balcony.

Like every country, Australia has it's own version of the Idol campaign, and the average public are just as militant in their devotion to the 'stars'. However, because some cock-wristed prostate farmer at Network 10 decided that one season of Idol a year just isn't enough, we also get American Idol. So I'm picking on you today, America.

Of the many problems I have with the Idol 'phenomenon', the marketing is right up there at the top of the list. Let's look first at the premise of the show. It's basically an hour of karaoke a night, and we the people get to kick out whoever we think is the most shit. So far, not a bad idea, if I ignore the fact that karaoke is the herpes of the entertainment world, and the fact that I don't care about any show enough to waste money on phone calls. All of a sudden, it's on every night of the week. Then they're trying to sell me cd's of the 'wildcards' and the 'top 10' butchering classics and failures alike. Advertising everywhere, every 3 minutes on television, on busses, buildings, trains.. then just as I think it can't get any more pervasive, what do I discover in my local supermarket?



You mean to tell me that not only can I watch, listen to and beat my head against American Idol, now I can eat off it too? Get out.
No, seriously. Get the fuck out of my life now.

Ok, it's time to talk about the man that everybody loves to hate. The arrogant, dagger tongued fiend that is Simon Cowell. The man spits fire, ice and venom every time he opens his mouth. His permanent disposition is stuck on rabid vitriol; he argues almost every compliment the other judges bestow, and I'm beginning to think the man gets a cash bonus for every contestant he makes cry. America loves to hate him, the world loves to hate him. Even the marketing campaigns love to hate him.

Exhibit A :

The message to the public - Simon needs to shut the fuck up.
I think the show would be much more interesting if Simon Cowell was the only person allowed to speak. The show would be called 'Simon Says - Shut the Fuck Up!'
Better yet, they should replace Simon completely, and put me in his place. I would change the name of the show to 'Daniel J Conquers America', and it would involve me sitting on my throne, casting judgement over all I see. It would be mandatory to watch it, in fact it would play 24/7 on every network everywhere. The world will get to watch as I break hearts, crush the dreams of children, and bathe in the blood of my victims.

Lets face it, that would make much better television.

i was right all along

i was having a debate with somebody at work the other day about film. she was flapping her lip about how good she thought 'vanilla sky' was, so just before i punched her in the mouth, i thought i would point out this movie's biggest flaw -



if ever there was a man deserving of my boot to his face, it this this smarmy cunt. i thought it was impossible for a person to look so smug, but ill be damned if the man doesnt keep outdoing himself on a daily basis. in researching this article, i had to replace my monitor four times - my fist just kept smashing his face of its own accord.

cruise is such a prick that he was fired from paramount pictures. the executives completed this manouvre on the sly; when it came time to renew tom's contract, they threw it in the bin and repeatedly pissed on it singing hallelujah. paramount had gotten so sick of cruise's bullshit (bitching, chair jumping, crazy religious beliefs, cradle robbing) that they decided they were better off without the hundreds of millions tom was raking in for them. tom's reaction was kept quiet from the media; everybody assumed 'he's tom cruise, he'll have no problem getting another deal right?' get fucked, you're all wrong. nobody wants him. he had to create a production company himself just to stay employed. in fact, i have photographic evidence of just how badly tom took the rejection.



one other thing. everybody is wondering how in the name of fuck tom cruise scored katie holmes. and before i go any further, the next person to use the phrase 'tomkat' to describe the unholy pairing will recieve a 'gift' from me in the form of a beartrap laced with anthrax. so how does a self absorbed, alien worshipping shitwhore like cruise seduce an innocent catholic child into recieving his tainted seed? first of all, we need a little history on tom.

cruise was born in the fires of the ninth level of hell, a spawning ground of the most feindish and terrible demonic minions. curiously enough, all the other demons considered him something of a piss ant, and after millenia of beatings and being repeatedly raped by goblins, he was banished to earth: a punishment reserved only for the weakest minions so they could learn from scratch what being badass means.

at first, his plan to rule the world involved pairing with another foul minion, nicole kidman. cruise was the weaker of the two, and after having his shit ruined on a regular basis he decided he'd had enough. by now people were beginning to cotton on to tom's true nature, so he decided he needed a disguise. enter katie holmes, the very picture of innocence. tom paid a visit to a witchdoctor and purchased the most powerful love potion imaginable. natrually, this failed miserably as cruise is the definition of repugnance. so in the end, he slipped her a rohypnol and knocked her up. being catholic, holmes had to marry him or have the unborn demon spawn aborted, which her backwater catholic ways would not allow.

now, before you start flapping your yaps at me telling me i just made this stuff up on the spot, i want you to observe the following piece of evidence.



your secret is out, tom cruise. i win, and you're just a weak, slimy cunt.

man i hate tom cruise.

maybe its just where i live, but i was driving to work this morning (savouring it, because i wont be driving for the next few months. fuck you, cop with nothing better to do) minding my own damn business with the music up loud. just up ahead of me some arseclown pulls across two lanes to turn right. this may not sound particularly shit, unless you take into account the fact THERE WERE TWO CARS DRIVING ALONGSIDE HIM. thats right, the other two cars had to brake hard just to avoid t-boning the fucking genius in his work van.

now, i'm all for justice and standing up for... whover really, i dont give a shit. but whoever was driving the other cars were clearly stunned and incapable of reacting. so in the intrests of justice i smashed my horn and flipped the van guy off, screaming obscenites. mainly cause i could, you know? my point is this. you are driving a car. its two tons of metal and glass driving at speeds that would beat down a brick wall on collision. i dont think you morons think about this quite enough, but if you screw up, people die. and if you're lucky enough not to be one of them, the men in blue will be shortly introducing you to your new playmate, who incidentally will make you his bitch.

dont get me wrong, i'm all for idiots killing themselves or being broken in by their new cellmate. as long as they dont take me with them. but of course, no rant about shit drivers would be complete without bringing up the bane of the tarmac.. OLD PEOPLE.ok, seriously. i dont care what measures are in place to make sure that old people on the roads are capable of controlling the death trap they drive. they're not strict enough. not by a fucking long shot. i'm assuming everybody knows what a roundabout is, right? that large arse concrete obstacle at an intersection that you need to drive around? thats right, all you people with SUV's - around, not over, shitwhores. anyways, they normally have large concrete median strips that guide you in the correct direction as you make your journey on to these navigational atrocities.

so i pull up to one, and i'm checking to make sure i can pull out. i step on the accelerator and in that instant pretty much have to drive on to the roundabout itself to escape the hurtling death that is old lady time in her little ford. i have to pinch myself to believe what i'm seeing - the old bitch is driving the wrong way around the thing, and at a complete loss for how to get off! forget how stupid that is in itself, HOW THE FUCK DID SHE GET ON BACKWARDS?? im sure the guiding medians make it damn near impossible to go the wrong way! it would take actual effort to intentionally get on backwards, how the hell do you do it accidentally? fuck old people, they shouldnt be driving. the road is no place for a bout of dimentia. thats right, once you hit 70 you need to do the rest of us a favour and hand in your licence. i dont care, catch a fucking cab if you want to get around. not that most cabbies are any better than old people, but if i got started on cabbies, SUV drivers, women, learner drivers.. this rant would go on forever.

if you cant drive, get off my fucking road.

ok i seriously couldnt resist.





mouse got pwned.

living just isn't hard enough
burn me alive inside
living my life's not hard enough
take everything away.

so ill be seeing deftones this weekend. fucking rawk.
next month will be overcranked.. holy shit, i dont know if anybody has seen the list of bands playing, sssooooo many.
in april i will be seeing slayer, mastodon and lamb of god.
in may i shall be attending the nine inch nails gig (thank you earlybird tix!!)

this is possibly the greatest year of live music i have ever experienced. even if everything else goes wrong this year, it cant possibly outweigh how awesome the music will make it.

i can tell by the tone of your voice
that this isn't working out
i can tell by the look in your eyes,
you've made up your mind, you haven't got a doubt.
i remember when i first saw you,
remember the way i felt
and now you're breaking me to pieces
i don't know how i'll deal with this

but if i've learned anything at all
it was to always be true to yourself and
i know that this isn't the end of it all
and i will fall...

have you ever watched the shadows
fly across the midnight sky
you know i used to watch the sunset
but it seems that i haven't got the time anymore

but if i've learned anything at all
it was to always be true to yourself and
i know that if this is all I can do then
i'm gonna try...

been thinking for days
been sleepless for nights
but it all came to me
driving home crying my eyes out

and if i've learned anything at all
it was to never give up
cause i see all my dreams laid out in front of me
and for once it doesn't seem so tough
no, it doesn't seem so tough....

tristan prettyman

i feel your lips move and i drown in that feeling
but i hate how you hate that i hate that it don't mean a thing
just one more brick in this wall could be the end of everything
when it comes down, i wonder who will hold the most string

i won't fight
because you were right about one thing
the touch of your skin
as you feel me within
won't erase all this sin as we
lay here beneath the sky

to anyone who's ever caused hurt to another
or been caught in the midst of the lies spun by a lover
the tragedy of it is what we are to each other
and the pain of it makes me wonder why we even bother

i won't fight
because you were right
this touch of your skin
as you feel me within
won't erase all our sin as we
lay here beneath the sky
together
alone.

(c) 2007 shank nolan

im getting tired
all these excuses and abuses
alive at dawn
do we lie or do we try?
these charades and these faces
broken shards and traces
of penicillin anti-love
coarsing through my veins

the rain shows us up
for what we are
all that remains of you
is half of what we are

remember the time i lit the fire?
you unfurled yourself up on the couch
remember the time you called me liar?
i unraveled like a piece of string

underneath the mask you wear
is just a broken caricature
its ugly and its ugly and
its ugly and its ugly
underneath the face we wear
is just an ugly caricature
its guilty and its guilty and
its guilty and its guilty and its me

its enough to make you shiver
the smiling killer in the river
she takes another piece of me
every time she's on her knees
(its only over when she says it is)

underneath the mask we wear
is just an ugly caricature
if you dont shut your mouth
i'll shut it fucking for you.

(c)2007 shank nolan