Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Left Hand Prejudice Exists

Ever been writing an in class essay only to drag your hand across the wet ink? Ever had to teach your non-dominant hand how to use a computer mouse? Ever struggled to use a grater? If you have struggled with such things you are either disabled or left handed. Yes, amongst other things which make me a severely flawed human being (being a klutz, having excessively pronated feet, impacted teeth and being a chronic asthmatic) is the fact that I am a lefty.  Most websites generally agree that left handers make up 5-10% of our population world wide. The reliable Wikipedia estimated that one in every ten people are left handed. With these statistics one would expect left handers to blend into society; but we don't. There are dumb ass people who say that being left handed carries no disadvantage in life; I feel like impaling them to a stake. Society has always discriminated against us left handers and sadly probably always will. 

Some random merde I read on Wikipedia said that left handedness was always considered negative. The word left itself is derived from the Ango-Saxson word lyft, meaning weak. Well Ango-Saxsons, the joke is on you because it is a proven fact that left-handers adjust more readily to seeing underwater.

Perhaps the singularly most irritating thing about being left handed is the disadvantages we have in most sports. Who ever invented guitar hero was a righteous nob; how the frack am I suppose to have equal opportunity at winning against my right hand dominant brother when I am forced to play upside down? Researcher Dr. Nick Cherbuin in an interview with AM ABC discovered that the connection between the left and right brain is somewhat larger and better connected in left-handers. This means, hypothetically that we left handers have slight advantages in sports, gaming and activities in which the participant faces large volumes of stimuli in quick succession. I said hypothetical because these so called advantages seemed to have missed me. I can't name one sport in which I have the advantage upon my opponent.
Ned Flanders, the original activist for left-handers
Let's be honest I couldn't give a shivering squirrel that I have advantages in stimulating actives when my accuracy of using 65% of firearms is significantly less than right handers. Honestly what if I wanted to become a cop, or member of a gang; my safety would be seriously jeopardised. Heck, I can hardly use a public telephone and knives; because yes, they are also made for right handers. We are in 2012; there are groups which promote equal rights for homosexuals, women, animals and the environment. What about the fundamental rights of the left handers? August 13th is international left handers day. On this day take time to think about the alarming statistic I stumbled across; on average left handed people die nine years earlier than their right-handed counter parts. As a good friend once put it, I am a left hander living in a right hander's world. 

On a chirpier note;  here are a list of famous left handers; try and make a list this long of right handers, let's be honest it's impossible.

David Bowie
Celine Dion
Kurt Cobain
Bob Geldolf
Jimi Hendrix
Sir Paul MacCartney
Ringo Starr
Ricky Martin
Tim Allen
Jack the Ripper
Napoleon Bonaparte
Julius Caesar
Neil Armstrong
Henry Ford
Joan of Arc
Helen Keller
Queen Mother
Prince William
Winston Churchill
President George Bush
Hans Christian Anderson
Jason Alexander
Pierce Brosnan
Drew Carey
Charlie Chaplin
Robert DeNiro
Ben Stiller
Nicole Kidman
Lisa Kudrow
Julia Roberts
Emma Thompson
Bruce Willis
Oprah Winfrey
Whoopi Goldburg
Angelina Jolie
Leonardo da Vinci
Marilyn Munroe
Gracyn Bower
Melea O'Reilly

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Inappropriate Winking

During the holidays I was subjected to hell. Obviously I am speaking metaphorically; there was no fire and sadly no horned, dwarfed red man but one winking Zac Efron. Yes, I was forced to endure two High School Musicals. There is no beating around the bush; I'll be honest (it is the best policy). Watching these two productions made me want to fry a goldfish. Perhaps the most irritating thing about the experience was the fact that I appear to have adopted Zac Eforn's wink. If you are unfamiliar with his charismatic winks watch the link to the right...

Zac Efron's winks are rather enchanting. However, I am still trying to come to terms with how I adopted this highly inappropriate habit.  Among many things which make me a flawed human being (see previous posts) I have a severe inability to wink. My wink attempts often are followed by people's concern that I am having a seizure, form of allergic reaction or face spasm. It always takes much reassurance on my behalf to convince people that this is not the case.  At Kmart last week I sent a spontaneous wink in the direction of my brother, and was then asked by the manager if the bright lights of the store were triggering my epilepsy.

On the isolated occasions in which people catch a wink that resembles a wink, it is not taken well. For anyone who knows me, will readily tell you that my speech consists of only poorly strung together sexual innuendos and sarcasm. Winking is not something that sits well within the context of any conversation I have with anyone on any planet.  Please know that if you see me with a strange expression on my face and a creased brow I am not having a face spasm or trying to seduce you, but just simply winking. 

Monday, 16 July 2012

Let's Be Honest: Winter Makes Fools Of Us All

There are many ways to pinpoint the start of winter. Unlike the Northern Hemisphere we Australians do not wake up one morning to the clouds leaking white shit all over our lawn.  Most Australians mark the winter season conventionally; by the calendar. Because let's face it, the fine black print on June 1st seems highly legitimate.  People who are inclined to astronomy, would know that the winter season is defined by orbital relationship of the earth and the sun. While these methods may be useful, I personally pinpoint winter with my killer instincts. When I crave hot drinks, can see my breath dispersing in the atmosphere before me and question the will to live I know winter has arrived.

Let's be honest, winter is a brutal bastard of a season. The behaviour of humans (and other animals for that matter) becomes ridiculous, we all become ill and or severely unhealthy. Suddenly the regimented routine of a daily 8 kilometre run does not seem nearly as inciting when you sweat icicles. Such sports  as running, swimming and cycling are replaced with sports not so recognised by the Olympics such as marathon showering. As humans we have a tendency to consume warm, comfort food. To generalise; hot food is not healthy food. 

If I objectively observe my behaviour during the winter months, it becomes humiliating. I lie rigidly in bed knowing that any wrong movement will through off the triple B balance I have going on (body, blanket, bed).  I set my alarm for 5.30 am; an entire hour before I must rise and shine. Hindsight has taught me that I like to lie in a still state for an hour before I attempt to get up. The humiliation doesn't end here. I then make the insanely mad dash from my warm bed to equally if not more warm shower. It's a legitimate analogy to say that I run faster than Usain Bolt to the shower. At night I find my self clinging more closely to everything (pets, blankets, cups and strangers off the street). This is definitely not because I become emotional and sentimental during the frosty months but because they are a great source of heat and hypothetically speaking could be killed and utilised for protein if life should come to an extreme survival situation. Which let's be honest; winter is an extreme survival situation. 

Winter not only renders my behaviour more humiliating but my dress sense bogan. I permanently trend ugg boots and a tracksuit; because lets be honest warmth and comfort is more important than looking dishy for the boys in a skimpy slut uniform. Our shops never seem to be equipped with the correct attire for our season. It would appear that the world, and indeed Australians are in permeant denial that we ever get a winter. I feel like carrying a sign down Queen Street Mall which bears something along the lines of, thongs (for your feet) are not a seasonal item of apparel you fools. 

Our bodies seem to go into shut down when faced with the unpleasantness of winter.  We contract repulsive viruses like influenza and gastro which cause various parts of us to leak unpleasant liquids. Scientists discovered that during the cooler months we yawn less, piss more and our hair grows ten percent slower. 

Personally I can't wait till the Spring; I want to be my fit and thriving hairy self again. 

Friday, 13 July 2012

Let's Be Honest: Dolpins are Evil

Three facts which will change your life; 
1. Dolphins live in what Scientists describe to  be an open society. Where they have both homosexual and bisexual polygamous relations. 
2. Dolphins have been known to massacre their young. 
3. Dolphin rape happens.

 I'll be honest those three facts single-handedly destroyed my life. I don't think I am alone; most people have had the Flipper fantasy. The dream of owning your own Flipper, living in a world where dolphins mystically communicate to people and permit them to ride the waves attached to their dorsal fin. Thank-you google for destroying my childhood, because dolphin rape happens. 
After six years of studying the behavior of 120 bluenose dolphins in Western Australia, an international team of scientists found that dolphins use rape within their pods to assert authority. The news gets worse; dolphins don't keep rape to their own species. There are at least 17 cases of dolphin-human rape reported in the United States alone, every year. Usually these occur close to shore where victims escape before being hauled to an underwater cave. It is difficult to pin point how many deaths are a result of dolphin's hideous sexual antics as the attacks often occur in open waters where there are limited eyewitnesses. Divers have found the remains of humans and porpoises in underwater caves.In 1997 corpses of baby dolphins started to wash up on beaches, scientists were baffled. Another study revealed that dolphins were massacring their young.

While you don't have to confine your swimming to chlorinated pools spread the word, dolphin rape, it happens. On a side note, anyone want a dolphin encounter?

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

Let's Be Honest: Crying is Hideous

It is rare that I am moved by an emotionally driven plot. Did I write rare, because I should have written never. I have never, ever cried in a movie; or a book for that matter. Perhaps I am heartless; but at least I have dignity. How does sitting in the darkened cinema blubbering resurrect Marley? How does emptying you tear ducts in the opening scenes of Up make you a better person? No matter how many times you weep at Titanic the boat still sinks (along with your dignity). 

Crying is a low point in humanity. It achieves nothing more than making the crier look like an ugly blubbering mess. Don't get me wrong, crying is acceptable. Who would I be to say that a natural human instinct should be condemned? The Old Testament is riddled with references of weeping. The ancient Hebrews wept as part of their supplications to God and prior to entering battle. The Gospel writers often record that Jesus wept. Jesus may have wept, but humanity does not need to draw inspiration from his emotional display.  Medieval Japan and Europe are full of epic tales of crying. Warriors like Beowulf invest their tears in spiritual questions. Romantics saw women regularly weeping in the face of spinsterhood and loneliness. This was obviously useless, no one finds weeping a turn on.  Great theologian Thomas Aquinas and the ancient Greeks communicated the idea that it was best to cry in the absence of people's eyes. I say, AMEN AQUINAS. You too may subject yourself to an emotional breakdown in the form of tears when you are the son of God or an epic warrior like Beowulf. Let's be honest unless you are one of these men, nobody wants to see your chocked and puffy face in a dimly lit cinema; especially if they trying to consume food. Crying is rather hideous. 

Permit me to say, there are times in which crying is more acceptable than others. Crying in reaction to major injury is among those (by major, I mean decapitation). Crying in the comedy Planes, Trains and Automobiles is not an acceptable. speculates that there are five movies acceptable to cry during. 
1. The Titanic
2. The Notebook
3. Marley and Me
4. A Walk to Remember
5. Forest Gump 

Please don't view these movies in my presence if you know you are going to cry. Help your self out, watch the video on the left; learn some one liners you to utilise in weeping situations. It will at least help restore your dignity when your tear ducts overflow.

By the way, I fell down the stairs again last week and I didn't even cry. That's how they make em in Brisbane.

Ron Burgendy and the Facts about Felines

We have all seen the movie, we all have a side. The timeless, yet highly relevant cat versus dog argument is one for all ages.  A close friend told me there is no right answer, this may be true. However, there are facts; lots and lots of facts which I feel it is my duty to alert you to. 

Ron Burgendy and Hagrid owned dogs. Dr. Evil and Gargamel owned cats.

Cats do the completely illogical thing of wagging their tales when they are pissed off or feeling territorial.

Somewhere in this blog I exhibit my exquisite German skillage.

They either refuse to or are incapable of understanding the fetch system. Same difference.

Kittens eventually become cats.

Cats turn otherwise attractive people psychotic. Drew Barrymore legitimately claimed If I die before my cat, I want my ashes put in his food so I can live inside him. 

Dogs are scrutinised for licking, cats do it at least twice as much to their own bods; and they regarded as clean?

At some point I realised I was a dog lover. It was probably after discovering Ron Burgendy was a lover of the canine. Or perhaps it was upon the fateful day I sat in a white laboratory as a red lump indicated my extremely high intolerance to cat fur. Either way, Ich hasse Katze.

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

Being Bibliophilic With Sarah Simpkins

Check out Sarah's blog,
Bibliophilism is the love of books. The love of inhaling the musty aromas accumulated in the texture of each individual page. The love of simply running your hand across the cover of a book and feeling connected to the world that within it. The simple and pure love of literature. Yes, I am a bibliophilie. I have realised I am not alone in this fetish, the more I get to know other people, the more I realise it is everybody's fetish. Everybody has at least one book they treasure and identify with. And for Sarah Simpkins it is The Book Thief by Marcus Zusack. 

Fellow blogging extraordinaire, vegetarian and friend, Sarah Simpkins joined me today at the bookshelf along  with her trademark uncontrollable hair. We dabbled in all things delightful about books; including the smell (excluding wet ones),  literature we deem to be quality (naturally excluding Jodi Picoult) and the book hotspots around Brisbane (which sadly, now, excludes Borders). Perhaps most importantly we explored the complexities of Sarah's most treasured, and favourite piece of literature. 

The Book Thief written by Australian author Markus Zusak was the first book Sarah became emotionally attached to. It made me cry like a baby, she reminisces. After merely reading a three sentence summary on Wikipedia, I too am almost an emotional wreck.  The book is set in Nazi Germany... it describes a young girl's relationship with her foster parents, the other residents of the neighbourhood, a Jewish fist-fighter who hides in her home during the escalation of World War II (Wikipedia)As an adopted tradition from some lame movie Sarah re-reads her favourite novel every single Christmas; it endures me she ponders. Sarah has read the novel three times. Indeed, with numerous awards and a listing on the New York Times Children's Bestsellers for the past 253 weeks, The Book Thief clearly has something more than an emotionally driven plot. 

It is unlike anything else I have ever read for one thing who the hell is narrating it? And everyone swears. According to Sarah the novel is a rampage of German swearing. As a rather rubbish but enthusiastic German student, I suddenly become angered that this book has slipped under my radar. Sarah reassures me that the harsh language is executed with good intentions. It is all loveable swearing, you know you are good friends with someone when you can swear at them and they don't get offended. With foreign foul mouthing, mysterious narrator and historical knowledge it is easy to see why it has become Sarah's fav novel. Upon final reflection Sarah wisely acknowledges, The novel carries the message of being more open minded as it proves there are several dimensions to people. Dimensions that we may never discover.  

Some bibliophilic facts about Sarah Simpkins, aka Girl With a Top Knot (check out her blog). 
At the bookshelf with Sarah Simpkins
Sarah read The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe while residing in China and purchased a Harry Potter  book for 10c at the black market in Bangladesh. She believes that the ideal bookshelf consists of Eating Animals Jonathan Saffran Foer as it is thought provoking, at least one Agatha Christie novel, the Twilight saga (you can't know what a good book is without reading the bad) and Pride and Prejudice as it is the basis for romantic comedies. In a game of burn, read and recommend Sarah; recommend Jane Austen, read Conan Doyle and burnt Charlotte Bronte. 

To seize a great plugging opportunity for an equally great project;  Sarah is working on a documentary involving books and women, yours truly is involved (so you know it's going to be a great).