Saturday, September 17, 2005

What the hell is an Edsel???

In my earlier, car-hoon days, I was a noted Ford fanatic, and for what its worth Im still a big fan of Ford cars, though not as passionately as in my past.
Here in Australia, there are three types of guys, Ford fans, Holden (the local division of GM) fans, and homosexuals. The Ford and Holden fans love to hate each other, and are constantly giving each other shit.
The Holden fans love to tell us "Blue Oval" guys what the letters F O R D stand for, its usually something piss poor like "Found On Rubbish Dump", or "Fucked On Race Day". yes, they are a clever bunch...
We Ford fans didnt bother to stoop down to thier level, mainly because there is too many letters in Holden.
While in a bored stupor, I stumbled across a list of most major car manufacturers and what the letters actually stand for.

I am sceptical as to the accuracy of some of these, however the Porsche one seems to hit the nail on the head...

Awfully Unsafe Designs Implemented
Accelerates Under Demonic Influence
Automobile Under Demonic Influence
Another Ugly Deutsche Invention
Always Undermining Deutsche Intelligence
Automobile Unsafe Designs, Inc.

Big Money Works
Bought My Wife
Brutal Money Waster
Break My Window
Break My Windshield
Babbling Mechanical Wench
Beastly Monstrous Wonder
Beautiful Masterpieces on Wheels
Beautiful Mechanical Wonder
Barely Moving Wreck
Big Money Waste
Big Money. Why?
Big Money Works
Born Moderately Wealthy
Breaks Most Wrenches
Bring More Wrenches
Brings Me Women
Brings More Women
Broken Money Waster
Broke My Wallet
Broken Monstrous Wonder
Bumbling Mechanical Wretch
Blasphemous Motorized Wreck

Big Ugly Indestructible Car Killer
Big Ugly Imitation Chrome King

Can Hear Every Valve Rap On Long Extended Trips
Cheap, Hardly Efficient, Virtually Runs On Luck Every Time
Cracked Heads, Every Valve Rattles, Oil Leaks Every Time
Constantly Having Every Vehicle Recalled Over Lousy Engineering Techniques

Drips Oil & Drops Grease Everywhere
Damn Old Dirty Gas Eater
Dead Old Dog Going East
Dead On Day Guarantee Expires
Dead On Delivery, Go Easy
Dead On Delivery, Guarantee Expired
Dead Or Dying Garbage Emitter
Dear Old Dads Garage Experiment
Daily Overhauls Do Get Expensive

Every Day Something Else Leaks

Failed Italian Automotive Technology
Fix It Again, Tony!
Feeble Italian Attempt at Transportation

Frigin' Old Rebuilt Dodge
Fix Or Repair Daily
Found On Road Dead
Fast Only Rolling Downhill
First On Race Day
First On Recall Day
Fabricated Of Refried Dung
Fails On Rainy Days
Fantastically Orgasmic Realistic Dream
Fatally Obese Redneck Driver
Fault Of R&D
Finally Obsolete Racing Device
Fireball On Rear Denting
First On Road to Dump
First On Rust and Deterioration
Fix Or Recycle Dilemma
Flipping Over Results in Death
Flipped Over Roadside Disaster
Follow Our Rusty Dogsled
Foot On Road Decelerates
Forced On Reluctant Drivers
Formed Of Rejected DNA
Forwarded Once; Return Denied
Forward Only; Reverse Defective
Forlorn, Old, Ratridden Dustbin
Fork Over Repair Dough
Fouled Out Re-done Dodge
Frequent Overhaul, Rapid Deterioration
Free Or Reduced Drastically
Frequent Opinion Really Disappointed
Fumes and Odors Readily Detectable
Funny Old Rattling Dump
(backwards) Driver Returns On Foot
Fastest On Road Device

General Maintenance
Great Mistake
Garbage Motors
Generally Miserable
Grossly Misconceived
Gluteus Maximus

Garage Man's Companion
Gotta Mechanic Coming?
Generally Mediocre Cars
Get More Chicks
Gets Mechanics Crazy
Gods Mechanical Curse
Got More Crap
Great Mountain Climber
Great Motor Car

Gas, Tires, Oil

Had One Never Did Again
Hang On, Not Done Accelerating
Hallmark Of Non-Descript Automobiles
Hallmark Of Non-Destructable Automobiles
HYUNDAI Hope You Understand Nothing's Driveable And Inexpensive...

Just Eats Every Part
Junk Engineering Executed Poorly
Just Empty Every Pocket

Most Always Zipping Dangerously Along

Money Guzzler

Might Go Backwards

Might Go Forward

My Intention Always To Accelerate

Many Odd Parts Arranged Randomly
Miscellaneous Oddball Parts Assembled Ridiculously
Most Often Passed At Races
Mostly Old Parts And Rust
Move Over People Are Racing
Move Over Plymouth Approaching Rapidly
My Old Pig Ain't Running
My Only Problems Are Repairs

Motor Under Strain, Transmission Almost No Good

Overpriced, Leisurely Driven Sedan Made Of Buick's Irregular Leftover Equipment
old ladies driving slowly making other behind insanely late everyday

Put In Nickel To Operate
Paid Inspector Nicely To Overlook

Please Leave Your Money Out Under The Hood

Proof Of Rich Spoiled Children Having Everything

Send Another Automobile Back
Swedish Automobiles Always Breakdown
Sad Attempt At Beauty
Sorry Auto, Always Broken
Shape Appears Ass-Backwards

Screwed Up Beyond All Repair Usually

Too Often Yankees Overprice This Auto
Torturous On Your Old Tired Ass
The One You Ought To Avoid

This Really Is Unreliable Man, Please Help!
Tried Repairing It Until My Parts Hurt!

Very Odd Looking Vehicular Object

Virtually Worthless

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Sibling Rivalry, The Return of...

Greetings humans, cyborgs, BourbonBird.

Due to popular demand, Ive decided to open another chapter of my pain filled youth. There was this big oblong device in our backyard that caused many. many injuries to all the JerkFace clan. Yes, we had a trampoline...

Sit back, spark up a Winfield Blue, and take yourself back into the mid 80's.

Picture a nice little backyard, couple of Frangipani trees, some footpaths, and a behemoth of a trampoline, sitting there with its stupid springs looking all innocent and smug.

The JerkFace kids had this game where we tilt the trampoline up on its end (topwise), one person sits on the bottom holding it upright, then the other two kids get a run up and jump onto the trampoline, sending it slamming down onto the ground, and the kids go flying into the air.

I thought of a new twist to this game, maybe I should stand at the elevated end, and hold it up, so when they jump, they will bounce back. It sounded good in theory. In practice it went thusly: BroJerkface and SisJerkFace run and jump on the trampoline. Yours truly cant hold the force of two fat kids in full flight. JerkFace crumbles. Trampoline squashes Jerkface. JerkFace left with some nasty cuts and bruises from the springs. I was a member of an elite swimming squad at the time, and had practice the next afternoon.
Coach looks at my back curiously and remarks "Christ, what happened to your back Matty?"
Ever so casually I replied "Trampoline fell on me...".
It didnt occur to me at the time, how this would be a very strange thing to say. And I still think back to that moment and chuckle to myself.
*I should point out, that one time we played this game, the dog ran under the trampoline as it came down and broke her leg. We made up a bullshit story to the parents*

Another time, a friend of mine was at my house. We convinced my brother to jump on the trampoline while we use rubber bands to flick bits of paper at him. It wasnt long before he got hit in the eye, fell over and smashed his face on the trampoline rail. Blood gushed from his mouth, and the crying turned to wailing. My mate ran home, my Dad ran outside, threw (yes threw) us into the car and drove us to the hospital. Little bro was ok in the end, but he does have bad teeth.

The final story for today, again involves me and my brother. Anybody who has ever been jumping on a trampoline with another person will know about the curious effect known as "bounceback".
Bounceback is a phenomena caused by two people on a trampoline. If one person lands just after the other, the second person catches the trampoline rebound of the first person is usually shot into the air at an unpredictable angle, most of the time, landing on areas other than the trampoline mat.
Back to the story.
BroJerkFace and I were merrily jumping up and down, trying to make each "bounceback". Out of nowhere i got my brother a beauty, he goes flying up in the air, arse over tit, I reckon he did at least one full revolution before landing face first into the springs. The springs themselves have hooks to hold them in place, and one of the hooks gouged a chunk out of his forehead. To this day he still has a scar that reminds us all to never, ever dick about on a trampoline again...

Friday, September 02, 2005

We are all pink on the inside

Hey, remember me?

My apologies for the extended break between posts. Between my Aunty passing away, a busy work schedule and my own health issues, Ive hardly had time to keep my blog up to date. I write this at work, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one is coming.

A funny thing happened to me last night, and I just had to share it with those who read my blog.

Allow me to set the scene...

I have the flu you see, so Im taking Cold and Flu tablets. There are two sets of two daytime tablets, and one set of two night tablets. These night tablets are quite strong and tend to put you to sleep quite quickly.

The night before last I was at home speaking to my mum. it was about 9pm and she thought it was time for me to take my night tablets. But there was a dilema, at 10:30pm the season finale of "The Shield" was on, and I desperately wanted to watch it.

So I says to Old Mother JerkFace "I dont want the pills yet cause I will fall asleep and miss my show".

"What show is that?" she says.

"The Shield" I reply.

"Oh, whats that about?" she asked me, just because she is nosey like that.

"Its about cops Mum", and because I knew more questions were coming I continued "Its on late because there is swearing and violence".

So I went to bed and watched The Shield season finale (which was intense).

The next day, Im watching TV with my mum again, shes flicking through the channels and stops on FOX8. There was a long add for all the shows that are going to be showed on FOX8 in the coming months.

Turns out The Shield is coming to FOX8 soon, so I pointed to it, and said "Mum, thats that show I wanted to watch last night, awesome show it is!".

Mum looks up just as they are previewing the next show, which happened to be "Queer as Folk". She looks at the TV and sees two guys kissing and fondling and thinks to herself "Oh, my son likes to watch shows about guys pashing, I knew he was gay, thats why his marriage didnt work!". My mother is a bandit at making assumptions.

I saw what she saw and immediately knew what she was thinking, so what should I do? Do I point out that what she is looking at is not the show I wanted to watch? or do I just stand there like an idiot and let her think what she wants? For better or worse I chose the latter. So now Mum has more fuel for the rumour fire, which she will undoubtably tell my sister, but to be honest, I really dont care anymore.

I think there is a lesson to be learnt from this, to ASSUME is to make an ASS out of U and ME...

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Sibling rivalry gone crazy

I have an older sister and a younger brother. Yes, i suffer from the terrible affliction known as Middle Child Syndrome, hence the bitterness I bestow upon the world.

(l-r) Sister Jerkface, JerkFace (kneeling), Brother Jerkface

That's me in the middle, all smiles and happy families it would seem... but if you delve deeper, you will see that not all is what meets the eye. Allow me to share some stories of injuries past, some leaving physical scars, some leaving emo-scars that no sunsets or mascara could ever heal.

1) I was 5 years old, and the world was my oyster. I had just given up the dream of being a lion tamer (because my mother bought me a cream-coloured safari suit) to focus on something much more achievable. I wanted to play Cricket for Australia.

It was not uncommon for the three Kav kids to indulge in a bit of backyard cricket, it's an Aussie tradition, you see. The usual rules applied, if you hit the ball over the fence, you're out. One hand catches off the bounce, etc.

I was bowling to my sister, and thought I'd try to fall her with my googly (it's a type of spin bowling technique). The ball left my hand and felt good from the get-go. My sister swung, but it was in vain. The ball fooled the cricket bat, bounced through the gap and hit the stumps. Clean bowled!

I started jumping around in excitement, and looked over at my sister who was not looking so impressed with my spectacular cricket skills. She looked at me in disgust, raised the bat, and HURLED IT AT MY FUCKING HEAD!

I tried to duck it, but I was too slow. The bat clocked me in the forehead and split me open, just like a cricket bat hitting a 5 year old in the head, because that's what it was. She locked herself in dad's car so he wouldnt belt her, meanwhile blood is pissing out of my head and ruining my Star Wars T-shirt.

Dad couldnt drive me to the Dr's because some cunt had locked themselves in the car, so I sat there bleeding until I lost consciousness. I woke up at the Dr's, getting stitched up without anaesthetic because of where the cut was. Traumatic stuff when you're five.

2) We had a trampoline. Why these things aren't illegal is beyond my comprehension. I was about 15 at this stage, my brother was 11.

One sunny afternoon I decide we should play a fun game on the trampoline. I picked up an old wooden fence post that was very splintered and came complete with rusty nails waiting to induce some good ol' tetnus-y fun. I said to young brother JerkFace, "Hey, you jump up and down on the trampoline, and I will swing this massive chunk of evil wood under your feet while you are in the air."

Being my younger brother, he trusted my extra years of life experience and thought it was a brilliant idea. He started to jump and I prepared to swing my weapon. I did the calculations in my head to get the timing perfect, and SWING!

The first swing smacks my brother in the feet right as he landed on the mat, and he goes down like a sack of shit. Huge chunks of splintered wood and rusty nail were hanging from his feet and toes. He started to bawl his eyes out, so to comfort him I pulled the evidence out of his feet and told him, "Shut up! If you keep crying, Dad will hit me!".

For some reason that stopped him crying, he put his shoes and socks back on and my parents were none the wiser. To this day, my brother has horrible tinea-prone feet, and sometimes I wonder if that had anything to do with some rusty nails and rotting wood...

3) About five years ago, my brother, sister and I were sitting in the dining room, eating a well-earned dinner. My parents were overseas, so we had cooked for ourselves. I was digging into some freshly made 2 minute noodles, chicken flavour of course. I was teasing brother JerkFace about something, so he thought it would be funny to do something quite silly.

As I raised a noodle laden fork to my mouth, he hits his hand on the back of my fork while its an inch from my mouth... this could have very easily been quite a tragic story. Luckily, the fork didn't impregnate the back of my throat, causing me to die.

Instead, it stabbed just below my fucking nostrils!

The fork actually stuck into my face and needed a little tug to get out. I ran to the bathroom, looked in the mirror to see four little holes in my face trickling blood into my mouth. Everyone present thought it was hilarious, seeing me getting frikkin stabbed in the frikkin face!

Perhaps the real tragedy of this story was the fact that those delicious 2 minute noodles (who never hurt a soul) were never eaten... I pray that they have gone to a better place...

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Hey Poindexter

I will admit it now, I can be quite nerdful. I love Lord of the Rings (books and movies), I read those "Choose your own Adventure" books like a bandit when I was a teen, I love movies with superheroes, I sometimes disapear for weeks at a time because Im too busy saving the world on the latest Xbox game, and part of me really wanted to go watch the new Star Wars movie. Although I do drink bourbon, I have a tattoo and I do kick boxing, so that kinda counters the above nerdy activities.
I do get excited about checking my email though. So much anticipation. Problem is, I rarely have any unread mail in my inbox... This could be because A) No one loves me or B) Only three people have my email address. Im going to take a punt and assume its the latter.
So to rectify this, I offer you my email address-


Feel free to drop me a line, say hello, tell me I stink, whatever, it would just be nice to have some emails. It would also allow me to get to know some of you a bit better which would be nice.

I apologise for the boring nature of this post.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Great Balls of Fire

Who would have thought that hair-removal cream and testicles make unhappy bedfellows? Not I.
An ex partner of mine was once very keen to see my "twig'n'berries" without any hair on it. I was not totally against the idea, so I investigated my possible avenues of hair removal. Shaving was out of the question, too much at risk. I wasnt going to go to a beautician to get waxed because I dont like crying in front of women. I thought I would give hair removal cream a go, it seemed harmless, its cheap, and I can do it from home.
I bought a discreet little product called "Andre- Hair removal cream for men", thinking the womens cream may not be manly enough to overcome the pheromone powerhouse that is my genitalia...
I got home and made the preperations as per the instructions.
At this stage I should have read the warning that said "DO NOT use cream on genitals, eyes, or other sensitive areas".
I applied liberal amounts of cream to the No-Go zone, and waited the 10 minutes. After about 5 minutes it began to feel quite hot, almost like my balls had eaten chili. At the 7 minute mark the burning got a bit too much so I washed off the product, and watched as the hair magicly came off with the cream. There was a patch of scrotum that I must have missed with the cream, so I got a bit more and re-applied.

Worst mistake ever...

If you have ever put your balls through a cheese grater, dragged them on rough bitumen, rubbed them in salt and then dipped them in acid you will know how it felt.
As soon as the cream touched the skin I got a massive painful burning sensation, it honestly felt like fire. I ran around the bathroom in circle yelling "OH, OH, OH". Ran to the shower turned on the water, and had to wait for the frikkin water to get to the right temperature, jumped in and thoroughly washed my poor little guys.
I was left with what looked like a chemical burn for a couple of weeks, and a funny walk for a day or two.
It turns out I missed the part of the instructions that said "DO NOT re-apply for at least 2 days", not that i would have taken heed anyway.

The moral of the story is, when cream and testicles are concerned, read the damn instructions!

In case your concerned, my nuts are back to full health...

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Ignorance is Bliss

This is about my best mate, and what a great guy he is. Lets call him Mr P.
He has done many strange things, yet maintains that he was THE best guy ever invented. Allow me to share a few stories, all free of exaggeration and/or hyperbole.

1) Mr P was an innocent 6 year old, and his parents had received a litter of unwanted kittens from family friends. Mr P loved the kittens, but they were too quiet for his liking. He decided he wanted to hear the kittens meow. He picked up one of them and dunked its head in the toilet. It didnt meow. He held it under for longer and it still didnt meow. Mr P figured that he should just hold its head under water until he hears it meow.
The poor kitten never stood a chance.

2) Twas Valentines Day about 5 years ago and Mr P had not bought his girlfriend a present. His sister had a secret admirer who had sent her a massive bunch of roses. She didnt want them, so Mr P took them and offered them to his girlfriend as a Valentines Day gift. This would have been borderline acceptable, except he didnt check the little card attached to the flowers. Later that day, Mr P received an irate phone call. Seems the missus wasnt too impressed with the dirty limerick written on the card, and she didnt understand the cryptic nature of it. She even asked if the flowers were meant for someone else, so he yelled at her for being ungrateful and unappreciative of what was such as expensive present. And to top it off, whenever they argued he would bring up the old "Remember when I got you those flowers!" Turns out, if you buy the missus flowers once you have fulfilled all your manly duties.

3) A few years ago Mr P sat at his house in the company of his girlfriend (the same gf as the flowers saga). She needed to use his computer for something, but Mr P didnt think this was a good idea because he had so much porn on his computer that he didnt want her to know about. He told her it was broken, she told him she could fix it. She ran up and turned the computer on, so Mr P panicked and flicked a switch on the back of the computer (the switch that changes what voltage the PC runs on). A puff of smoke came out the top of the PC and he yelled at her for breaking his computer.
Now don't get me wrong, Im no anti-porn skeptic, but this seemed like an extraordinary length to go to to hide some naughty pictures. All I can assume is that the subject matter may not have been very socially acceptable. Gay porn? Unlikely... Frolicking Transvestites? Possibly... Extreme anal insertions and Hardcore Grannies? Would not surprise me...

These are only 3 incidents that show the type of person he is. There was also a time when he and I were on a date with two pretty girls. Mr P whispered to me that he had to blow his nose, but he didnt want to say it in front of the girls, so instead he chose to say "Excuse me girls, I have to spew"...
Needless to say, they didnt return either of our calls.

Despite this he still believes he is the nicest, most respectful guy, and he loves better than any other. It must be nice living in a daydream.

He is a good friend of mine but can be very painful to know.

I think I need new friends...