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.