FHM stands for 'Fabricating Hackneyed Myths'

Not too many blog posts recently, mainly because my flat mate is a bitch and I am moving out because I don't like him.

Here's a link to an article on MDC about FHM:

It has pictures of hot women!

http://milliondollarcompany.com.au/articles/12/

Sar.

Even Plain Girls Always Get What They Want

Within some elements of the 'dating game' girls have it incredibly easier than men.

Throughout my pursuits of romance (read: when I drunkenly hassle women at bars) I usually play the role of the pursuer. This is fine by me, I can chose who I want to pursue whereas if I was female I wouldn't be able to choose who pursued me.

However, through my experiences of being the pursuer I have developed a tough skin which most girls never acquire. The other day however my usual role was reversed and I was pursued by a girl  who asked me out on a date.

Anyway, for a variety of reason's I told this girl that I couldn't make it. Three days later she sends me a message saying:

'Hey, I'm not used to being turned down (especially when there's an implied offer for sex involved) so let me know why exactly can we not hang out?'

This a typical example of many females attitudes towards dating.

Not used to being turned down?

Well, guess what? Fuck you!

I've got rejection down to a fucking art form!

Do you see me complaining to the girls who brush me? Nope. I get on with my life.

If you're a man, no matter how good you are at picking up women, rejection is always a constant throughout the dating game. One girl gets rejected once in her life and she cannot possibly fathom why someone wouldn't want to date her. It's completely out of her reality, her bubble burst and she comes falling down to the surface of the Earth where every single male spends the majority of their time.

Guys go out every night prowling for girls and get faced constantly. On nights out I've had women call me an ass-hole, loser, dick/fuck-head, piece of shit, weirdo, wanker, jerk, and a variety of other hurtful names. My favourite line so far was when one woman said to me:

'I'm not giving you my number. Because I can suck a REAL dick.'

Story of every man's life

The nerve of you women is unbelievable. I get brushed everyday then when the shoes on the other foot, all of a sudden I need to explain myself for such unacceptable behaviour.

Females of the world. Man the fuck up!

In love, things rarely go the way you want, get over it, stop being so sensitive and feel grateful you're not hideously deformed.

A Deterrent For Adultery

Say your in love with a woman and you decide to marry her and raise a family. The two of you wed and you have two children, a girl and a boy. Picture perfect right?

Certainly.

By all means.

Until you catch her with another man's cock in her mouth.

You're completely heart broken, you've never known such misery, your entire life crumbles and you lose your ability to believe.

Now, here's what you do...

Wait.

Sorry, before I go on I will warn you that this is a fucked up thought. However, be aware that I am a sane and rational human being and I know it's a fucked up thought. When I have fucked up thoughts it doesn't scare me because at least I know these thoughts are fucked up and I would never act on them. It's only when you see your madness as warranted that you are truly insane.

To give you an example of some of my fucked up thoughts read the following:

I was at my sisters wedding recently and I was part of the bridal party. In the middle of the ceremony I looked around at 160  family and friends in this large beautiful church watching my gorgeous sister marry the man of her dreams, and I thought 'Wouldn't it be fucked up if I had brought a gun and as soon as she said "I Do" I walked over and blew my brains out over her wedding dress.'.

Now that thought is FUCKED UP.

But still, just imagine it!

It would turn what should be one of the greatest days of my sister's life into a terrible tragedy that would scar every witness forever. You would need grief counselling!

Okay, settle down obviously I didn't end up doing it (because I forgot the god-damn bullets!)

HOWEVER.

Fucked up thoughts like this are not to be denied but embraced curiously as a hypothetical.

Recently, I have  out done myself with sick thoughts so I decided to do what I always do when I have a fucked up thought. Post it on the internet!

Basically, if the woman/man of your dreams and mother/father of your children cheats on you and you want absolute revenge this is what you should do:

Simply kill both of your children, write 'This is all your fault (insert name of unfaithful lover here)!' with their blood and then kill yourself.

Now, there's people out there that think, c'mon dude why not just kill yourself? Isn't that enough?

No, because if you cheat on your partner and then your partner kills themselves you can just re-frame your grief by saying 'Well, their suicide was a selfish act. Far more selfish than adultery, so technically fuck him/her. They don't deserve my pity or grief if they are going to do something like that!'

This is where the children come into play (and believe me I know this works). Through the nature of causality the children are innocent victims of you're partner's adultery and the guilt of having the deaths of children on your head for the price of sexual gratification is far too much to handle emotionally. Hence, you gain the ultimate revenge of doing to your lover what they have done to you.

Okay, there you have it. The most fucked thought I've had in my life (that I'm willing to share).

However I think this could be used as a deterrent for adultery. Say you marry the man/woman of your dreams? Well, when you wed, calmly tell them that if they ever cheat on you then you will kill yourself and any and all children you have because that's how strong the grief of loosing them would be. When you consider it, it's almost romantic, you love your partner so much that you the very thought of losing them would incite you to exact revenge in the world's most sadistic guilt trip.

They might not believe you but I can guarantee they will certainly think twice about cheating on you.

Fuck you Microsoft Word with your sentence fragment accusations. No I will not consider revising! I am a man, you’re just a robot! I have a soul, you have NOTHING!

Like most young single guys with no prospects in their life other than a guaranteed lonesome death, I hold only one optimistic view towards the future - the possibility that machines will rise up and destroy humanity in a gory high-tech apocalypse. 

However I'm constantly greeted with indications that this will unfortunately not happen in my life time. Why? Because Microsoft is too busy enjoying their monopoly that they don't bother to continually evolve and expand on their computer systems. 

Take Microsoft Word for instance. Apart from the fact that it underlines almost every sentence as a 'sentence fragment' just to annoy the shit out of you and make you feel dumb, it's thesaurus is idiotically primitive. 

Take a look at this screen shot. It has the word 'Discrepancies' typed into Word:

  

Now, watch what happens when I command word to use it's Thesaurus to find a synonym for the word 'Discrepancies':

Fucking, 'Discrepancy' is not a synonym for 'Discrepancies', it's the same mother-fucking word. 

Microsoft is a billion dollar global super power and it gives you the same word when you specifically asked for a different word. This happens with any word that is written in plural form - alls the thesaurus will give you back is the same word in singular form. It's not like we don't have the technology to change this flaw, but it's that Microsoft don't bother to change it because they don't give a shit. 

This is why I cannot wait for Google to create an operating system and a word formatting program because Microsoft doesn't care enough to continually evolve. Google knows where it's at. Bing is a complete pile of shit that makes me sick. Google is constantly trying to find ways to make internet browsing better and easier. 

So fuck you Microsoft Word you silly robot, you can't even grasp the concept of a synonym - you will never take over the human race. 

If you love something, let it go.

Then, if it comes back to you it's yours and you can continually let it go from time to time whenever you feel the urge to fuck someone else.

You can just keep on letting it go knowing you own it forever and every time it returns you'll just lose more and more respect for it and you'll have no worries in treating it worse and worse.

After a while it will become obsessed with you through the constant rejection because it will naturally want what it can't have. It'll develop delusional fantasies that you are the only one for it and that it will be able to change you because it's the only one who truly loves you for who you are. Eventually you can just get in the habit of basically living a promiscuous single lifestyle, partying and fucking other people while sporadically coming back to throw it a bone so it won't starve.

After a while you should be able to have it waiting on you hand and foot while supporting you financially in a vain attempt to impress and care for you because by now it's lost all of it's self confidence and only sees itself through your eyes and will subsequently do anything for you're approval.

Then throughout your sexual prime you will be able to pursue your wildest dreams by fucking all types of different sexual partners knowing full well that you will never die alone or fail romantically because you will be able to fall back on the one person who truly loves you with all their heart (but only if you don't find anything better).

Ron Weasley

Rupert Grint may be the only Harry Potter cast member who has a nerdier name than the character he plays.

However, say what you want about Ron Weasley. He might play an awkward, ginger coward but there is no doubt in my mind that Ron Weasley walks into a club in L.A, points out three women and says:

'You. You. And you.'

Then, the three smoking hot bombshell babes to whom he was referring listen intently for his command:

'Let's go.'

Then they follow him outside to a black limousine which takes them to a five star hotel where Ron leads the girls up to his penthouse suite.

He opens a champagne bottle before commanding them all to strip. The girls, almost instantly naked await the next words from his mouth which come out vile and spiteful:

'GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!'

They all do so eagerly arching their bare chests in front of themselves.

Then Ron Weasley high on cocaine and with no need for alcohol, starts shaking up the bottle of nine hundred dollar champagne and squirts it all over the naked women. They all giggle but his face remains in a deep frown as he intentionally tries to squirt it in the eyes of the girls to sting them knowing full well they won't complain.

'LICK IT OFF EACH OTHER!!!'

The girls start to make out but he grabs one violently by the hair and puts his face right up into their own.

'No one kisses each other. You understand? Only me.'

The girls quiver under his authority and he sticks his tongue down each of their throats.

'Now lick each other clean.'

The girls as if by unconscious impulse start an oral chain as Ron watches in fury. One of the girls cannot contain her passion and screams out in orgasmic glee:

'Fuck me Ron Weasley!'

Ron Weasley erupts in a piercing scream of rage and slams the champagne bottle down onto the coffee table. He walks over to the girl and holds the sharp edges of the bottle to her throat.

'WHAT DID YOU CALL ME BITCH? WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!!'

Tears swell in the girls eyes and she quivers:

'Rupert, Rupert, honest to God I said Rupert.'

'THAT'S FUCKING RIGHT!

My name is Rupert Grint and I am worth twenty million pounds. You fucking bow to me'

This is what he does every weekend.

Well at least it's what I would do every weekend if I was in his position of fame and financial security. I'd live a life of complete and utter immorality and constantly accrue anecdotes for a harrowing autobiography.

Then I would release a book entitled "My Life Destroying Ron Weasley: An Autobiography'.

Then when all these little kids and Harry Potter fans would read it they could never again look at Ron Weasley the same way.

In fact no one who read the harrowing details of a life of sin would ever be able to watch the Harry Potter films again without seeing Ron Weasley as a villain far worse than He Who Must Not Be Named.

Chopper Reid is a Pretentious Hypocrite

Chopper Reid has been on Australian television lately telling people not to commit crimes.

Thanks Chopper, why don't you write that little tip down and send it to yourself circa 1970 when you were convicted of armed robbery.

After watching the video above where a convicted felon tells me not to drink and drive I wanted to down a bottle of vodka and go drive through a school zone out of pure spite.

Regardless of what the advertisements tells you, it's wrong. A killer is not a killer. I don't want to condone drunk driving but there's a difference between doing something dumb which eventually causes a tragic accident and shooting someone in the head for money.

For one, I've never driven my car drunk, ran over an old lady and then woken up the next morning with ten thousand dollars in cash.

Chopper doesn't just speak out against drunk driving but also violence against women.

First of all, this advertisement blatantly boasts the fact that the Australian prison system is flawed enough to allow violent attack amongst inmates. How come the prison authorities are just letting the prisoners deal out justice to each when it comes to things like this? Do we not have control of our prisons or are our prisons so corrupt that they allow these attacks to happen because the guards and other inmates frown down upon certain crimes?

Why should people who have beaten up women get any worse treatment? Why is a woman beater worse than a person who beats men? Shouldn’t we all be equal? Isn’t that what feminists have been campaigning for? 

What about me? I am as skinny as any woman out there and I can’t fight for shit. Is Chopper Reid going to defend my honour by breaking the necks of my attackers once they are behind bars?

Probably not, because I doubt my attackers would be behind bars because our culture tolerates violence amongst men more than it does towards women. That's the true sexism, not that violence against women is heavily frowned upon but that violence against men is seen as a part of life.

A woman gets beaten up and there's twenty advertisements and group lobbying for change. I get beaten up and people call me a pussy for not swinging back. 

Rugby League has given me an insight into how alcohol affects the human brain

I don't like National Rugby League and I consider myself fairly different from the average football player, however I share one common trait with them. I, like most rugby league players, love to go to bars and turn myself into a drunken dribbling mess.

Now there is one particular NRL player who outdoes even me with the ability to drunkenly embarrass himself, his name is Todd Carney.

If you don't know who Todd Carney is he can be pretty much summed up as an arrogant bogan asshole who tells women that he is a professional rugby league player within the first sentence of meeting them.

Toddy Carney's story plays out like this:

He was an alcoholic menace when he played for the Raiders and got in to trouble for pissing on some guy in a bar toilet, doing doughies around Goulburn in his car and vandalizing the front window of a phone shop. He eventually got sacked from the Raiders because he wouldn't stop drinking and later signed on with the Roosters.

After another drunken night as a Roosters player the coach told Carney to give up booze or he's out. Todd Carney gave up alcohol and was subsequently named International Player of the Year.

This scares me.

Why?

Because as much as I detest the persona of Todd Carney there is no denying that I probably drink myself into very similar drunken states which would imply that my body and mind receive the same affect of alcohol abuse as his. However, unlike Carney, my boss isn't forcing me to stop drinking so obviously I don't stop with my drunken gallivanting.

As much as I love drinking I really don't want booze to catch up to me and whittle down what's remains of my wit. Although I don't really feel any negative affects of booze now, I fear that if I could only stop drinking I would be sharper, smarter, and fitter than my regular self and this could be the tipping point towards a successful life that I would have otherwise missed out.

It reminds me of a parable in some holy book where a man is told by God that the water in the river will soon be poisoned and it will make all the townspeople insane. Well (pardon the pun), the man tried to warn the other townspeople but they didn't listen so before the day came the man stockpiled his own fresh water and refused to drink from the river.

Soon, all the townspeople became insane and only the man was left sane. However, since the man's mindset wasn't in tune with mindset of society, all the townspeople thought he was that he was insane and he was outcast.

In the end, the man couldn't bare the loneliness and ridicule so he drank the water from the river and became insane so that he could fit in with society.

That man in the parable is me. Alcohol is the poisoned water and Todd Carney is the only sane one left in the town.

Daft Punk'd

Allow me to explain an idea for a swindle I had the other day. The confidence trick takes a team of about three to four and a initial lay down of about five grand.

Basically what you do is get one member to pose as a music agent/manager and call up a low to mid-level music festival. Tell them that you would like to speak to the head promoter and inform the promoter that what you are about to say is to be kept top secret because you don't want the information to be leaked.

Then inform them that you represent Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter A.K.A Daft Punk. Now, what you may or may not know about Daft Punk is that they are anonymous and always keep their faces hidden. See this picture of them doing a T.V interview:

Then tell the festival promoter that Daft Punk want to perform a surprise set for the music festival. The promoter will no doubt be on board because a surprise set from Daft Punk will guarantee their name in the papers. Give the details of a bank account for which you would like the money for the gig transferred into and then organise the time of the set.

Then, alls you need to do is rent a limo, get some pseudo-helmets (this is what the five-K is for) and then rock up on the night, wearing the helmets

 

Come on stage and just mash up the components of Daft Punk's live album 'Alive'. The crowd will be so off their heads to notice and everyone will embrace is as if it was Daft Punk. Then go off stage and promptly return to the limousine. Next, when the money is transferred into the bank account pull it out in cash and disappear to South America with no one the wiser. It's certainly easier than robbing a bank, and more fun because because you can pick up groupies back stage.  

The Baked Ultimatum

Drugs.

Police.

Interrogations.

This new article is like a psychological thriller.

http://www.milliondollarcompany.com.au/articles/11/

Read it, there's at least three pictures, I promise.

My Faith in Humanity Isn't Dead, It's Sleeping

I was aimlessly driving around my home town of Canberra when I found myself at the top of Black Mountain underneath the Black Mountain Telecommunications Tower.

I thought it would be nostalgic to go up and check out the view from the top. There was however one flaw in my plan, I was a rational human being, and therefore there was no way I was going to pay any amount of money to see Canberra from an elevated height. Assuming tower entrance cost money I went inside to see if I could cheekily convince the gatekeeper to let me in for free.

The conversation went like this:

Me: Hi, how much does it cost for entry?

Woman at the desk: It's seven dollars fifty.

Me: Oh, okay well I am just in Canberra for the night and I haven't been here for two years and I fly out tomorrow so I was just wondering if I would be able to go to the top to have a look at my home town.

Woman: It will be seven dollars fifty.

Me: The thing is though, I don't have any money.

Woman: Sorry that's too bad.

Me: So can you let me in for free?

Woman: Nope.

Me: But it's my home town and it's very special to me (untrue, it's fucking Canberra)

Woman: Sorry. No can do.

Me: You can't allow people in for free under special circumstances?

Woman: No.

Me: Barrack Obama walks in here with no money, you're not gonna let him in for free?

Woman: Barrack Obama wouldn't come in here on his own.

Me: He's never by himself isn't that old Barrack? Quite the popular fellow I must say. Do you think he ever feels alone even when he's surrounded by so many people? And don't you think that is perhaps the worst, most ironic kind of loneliness there is?

Woman: Hee, hee. Probably.(while giggling and becoming amused)

Me: What if you just look the other way while I sneak inside for free?

Woman: I can't do it, there's cameras.

Me: Isn't it such a shame that this in this day and age we monetize sight alone? I mean this is my home town and I have to pay to allow light from it to reflect into my eyes. Isn't that a reflection of the humans capitlist desire to monetize everything we hold dear?

Woman: Just go in!

Me: Yes! Thank-you!

Then she let me in!

For free.

This was amazing to me.

I know it was only seven dollars fifty but it puts a little faith inside me that human beings can see past the roles they play within their employment positions and connect to another human being on a deeper level.

At the beginning of the conversation the woman was a public servant, an employee of the Telecommunications Tower doing her job as a gatekeeper, however at the end of the conversation she was a woman rebelliously disregarding the established rules of her code of conduct and allowing me to enter for free. Thus becoming not a employee, but a human being.

The reality of the situation was that the only thing separating me from the view was a small gate and an elevator ride. There was no financial loss whatsoever in allowing me to go up for free. This woman knew that at the start, and at the end she acted upon this knowledge.

I believe that everyone feels this in some way or another, police officers, judges, politicians, McDonalds workers, bureaucrats, they all see the opportunity they are presented with everyday to disregard the set rules and codes upon which they expected to act and help out another person in need. This is the universal potential for compassion and although it rises it's head only rarely it still exists deep down in the souls of every living person. Never forget that whenever you have to pay seven dollars fifty to look at a town from an elevated height.

My Credit Card Details

This might be a good title for an article that someone on the internet would actually read. If I constantly posted updates with my bank and credit card details instead of bland observational satire at least then I might accrue a loyal fan base amongst the fraudsters.

Moaning about the lack of readers of my stupid thoughts made me think of a thought so stupid only a genius could think of it.

If a billionaire publicly televised his credit card details to the entire world so that anyone watching could easily go on-line and buy shit using his bank account, would it be possible for him to come out of the entire event with a profit from advertising revenue?

He could promote a one off televised event and have two hours of television where he released the details of one of his platinum credit cars progressively throughout the program and since the content wouldn't have to contain any artistic merit it could be drenched to the brim with advertising from some of the world's biggest corporations.

The event would make television history!

Advertisers pay US2.6 million dollars for a thirty second spot during the Superbowl. Surely the limit to his credit card would be lower then the money gained from two hours of 2.6 million thirty second spots.

Even if he didn't end up making money it would still be a great publicity stunt for self promotion and would create multiple avenues for cash flow.

He could have cameras follow the entire experience and create a documentary film and the TV shows popularity would transfer to a cinematic success. He would also become a household name and therefore the sale of any autobiographies or products attached to his image would increase to the Nth degree.

He could also have website with details of the event which would attract viewers and increase his web based advertising revenue.

Fuck, why hasn't anyone done this? Famous billionaires are usually self promoting attention lovers anyway, I can't believe they haven't thought of this before.

Infernal Affairs II Review

I was watching Infernal Affairs II yesterday and I kept getting mixed up between several of the characters. I literally had to pause the film and try and intentionally study the faces of the two main characters so I could know who was who. The plot is very complex and every single character has brown skin and black hair. It was therefore a little difficult to keep track of each character.

I think this could be due to the following factors:

1. Subtitles

The film was subtitled and because of this a lot of my attention was diverted to the bottom of the screen as I read the dialogue instead of paying attention to the actor's faces. It's happened to me before when watching foreign films, I usually only recognise the eccentrically dressed gangster who wears a white suit and sunglasses because I'm too engrossed in reading the subtitles.

2. Foreign Actors

Not many people truly appreciate the fact that we can tag name recognition to the characters within our favourite films. It's easier to recognize a character if you know that he's being played by Mark Wahlberg. Even if you don't know the actors name you can still know him as 'The dude from Forest Gump.' and be able to instantly recognise him when he pops up in a scene.

With foreign films with the exception of a few particular looking characters, I couldn't pick any others from a line up. Could it be because they had no achieved celebrity status in my home country?

I experience a similar sense of ambiguity when I'm watching an old western. If it's not Clint Eastwood I usually don't recognise the actor and can't tell one character from another. It also doesn't help when every single guy in an Western has an dark leathery face and dresses like a cowboy.

In regards to the review, while I didn't hate Infernal Affairs II, I didn't care too much for it. I would advise on skipping this one if you don't have much time on your hands. Nothing really happens in it that didn't happen in the first movie. There is a 'rat' or 'mole' in both the police and the triads. There are twists and turns in the plot but they are mainly logical and not really jaw dropping. Some people get killed, then a guy turns on the gang, then a cop leaks information, etc, etc. then it ends.

Overall Infernal Affairs II is logically tight and the narrative moves along at a fine pace but it lacks in generating an emotional response.

Does smoking make infanticide look cool?

The Facebook game 'Farmville' has claimed yet another victim. This time through inspiring a woman to shake her own baby to death because it was interrupting game play.

Now look, I've thrown my fair share of controllers at the wall in gaming tantrums but to my credit I've never aimed them at a baby's head. The mother in question adds to a list of many others whose lives have been ruined by the game.

Can't un-tag no matter how hard you try

Farmville is seemingly so addictive that people have lost their jobs and racked up debt and the recent events have fuelled debate as to whether video game addiction is the cause for the destruction.

What is it with people like this and their lame addictions? It reminds me of this woman who was addicted to Coke Zero. Coke fucking Zero! This obese Australian woman had something like twelve one-litre bottles of Coke Zero a day.

That's an insults to addicts everywhere! Coke Zero is not good enough to get addicted to. If your going to destroy your body at least have a decent addiction like cocaine or heroin, or hell, even plain normal Coke.

Now the video game addiction obviously didn't make Alexandra V. Tobias kill her baby. Deep inside she probably loathed the infant for ruining her life (and what a life to ruin, oh the farms she would grow!) but what struck me was the following quote:

"She told investigators that she shook the baby, smoked a cigarette “to compose herself,” and proceeded to shake him again."

This woman can't even murder a baby in one go! She had to have a cigarette break amidst shaking her baby to death. To calm the nerves.

'Chuck the kettle on love I'm just about done with this one, I'm just gonna have a quick spell.'

This scene is a true clash of what is cool and un-cool. We all know that in the movies when a character is smoking a cigarette and blowing some guy away it doesn't get much cooler than that, but we are also very aware that killing a baby is totally not cool.

So how did this woman look puffing on a cigarette and shaking her baby to death?

Unless she travelling back in time to kill Hitler I just can't imagine a visual where she could look good. Even if she was killing Hitler, I'd want her to give the guy a chance, wait till his at least eight years to do it. If your going back in time to kill Hitler you'd have to be a pretty big ass-hole to kill Hitler when he was a baby.

I'd kill Hitler when he was like fourteen or fifteen at the stage when he had the impulse to have sex with a woman but hadn't lost his virginity, then I would show him a picture of Blake Lively (he'd love her - blonde hair, blue eyes) and say:

"Guess what you're never getting buddy? Should have thought about that before you tried to enslave humanity in the future."

The last thing adolescent Adolf sees before he dies

And then I'd take a puff of a cigarette "to compose myself" and blow him away.

Broken promises and broken dreams

Well, it's been ten days without a post which means in just two weeks I've already failed to keep updating this thing regularly.

However, this is not a failure but a lesson.

I realised that the reason I have not been able to keep with the relatively tight updating time line isn't because I'm lazy but it is because of my writing process.

Basically when I get an idea for a blog I write it in what I like to call "A Word Document" which is an extremely popular writing program from Microsoft.

Microsoft Word was first released in 1993 for the Xinix computer system. Originally a stand alone product, Word soon became a incorporated to Macs, PCs and Atari ST.

I remember using Works but being embarrassed that I was not cool enough to be able to use Word. I actually  received a lot of  bigotry and prejudice because my family did not have Word. At school my assignments were graded poorly strictly on the basis that they were printed on Works. As a result I was at the bottom of what I like to call my "Class".

A class refers to a group of students that attend a specific lesson at an educational institution.

Now, I would write my article and then save it using one of Words many functions. It's pretty obvious I am no genius, so I what results from the first draft is usually of low quality (unless I'm the fucking ZONE) and I shape the work into readable material through subsequent rewrites.

So the first draft of the blog is in my computer and I tell myself "I will rewrite that a couple of times and then post it on the internet for all to see".

But, because I am constantly writing first drafts of stuff and rewriting other drafts of other things it gets lost in the pile of "To Do's" and I usually never get the time to flesh it out into something worthy of being blogged.

Plus there is a mirror next to my computer which draws in a lot of my attention.

What results in all this procrastination is my blog dying without being updated for ten whole days (that is an eternity in internet time).

However I have reached a philosophy that will save me.

From now on, I will work on my articles and rewrite them the usual way and when they are good enough I will post them on my website (www.milliondollarcompany.com.au) BUT for my blog posts, I will begin typing not in a word document but in the actual fucking field of the blog of which I'm typing right now.

Everything I write will be improvised, polished and submitted in first draft form. Just like this article right now, I had no idea I was going to say these things, I just wrote the title and began typing. Do you feel how fucking raw this shit is? Straight from my mind to your screen, like improvised telepathy.

So one promise has been broken and from it arises a new promise, just as Jesus brought forward the new covenant, in triumph I will ride into web Jerusalem on a cyber donkey and put forth my new promise:

I will post twice a week and every post will be from start to finish unplanned, improvised and unedited. It's like live T.V (in the sense that both things exist).

Who knows what will happen?

Doesn't matter actually, no one fucking reads this bullshit.

Saaar'
D

PS: Do they? 

 

Che Guevara. Mahatma Ghandi. Lady Gaga.

I've noticed that there is an lack of Lady GaGa articles on the internet so I have decided go topical and post up a new article. Check out the link, and read what is there.

Check out this link for the article:

http://www.milliondollarcompany.com.au/articles/10/

First Blog Post

There is a huge chance you will disagree with almost all of the bullshit that I will spout on this page but just know that these are only the mild opinions of someone who ultimately doesn't care.

Go check out www.milliondollarcompany.com.au for some of my better articles.

Also, if I ever find some cool shit on the internet I will promise to link it up here and spread it on.

Sar`

D.