Reality TV, let's make it exciting at least

Yet another of those shows where vapid famewhores who should really just piss off and by a house in the burbs like the rest of us are back, polluting my TV, this time in the guise of 'Celebrity Survivor'.
I propose a new format for this show, in which we place our 'Celebs' on an island, then introduce and intruder, in this case, Ivan Milat.
Just think of the ratings people!
Ian 'Dicko' Dickson: "Well Ivan, I'm sorry, but I just didn't see any talent when you gutted that Daddo brother with a coconut"
Ivan: "Huh? Grrrrr"
Some time later:
Third rate starlet #3: "What happened to Dicko? He was just here? Ivan, have you seen Dicko?"
Ivan: Bwahaha. Nope (grins crazy freaky arsed grin)
I'm telling you, this could be huge, I just hope that no-one else has got wind of my idea. While we're at it, I have another idea for reality TV, lets get cameras into the offices of the twits that come up with these shows, that would be some of the best comedy since 'The Office'.
So, they cancelled the show ' Yasmins getting married'. I can tell you why that show didn't take off, people want truth in advertising these days. If they had only called it: ' Yasmin's being pimped out to some pack of f**king dimwits' it might just have worked.
Still, it made the network put Futurama back on, so I won't complain.

Disclaimer: The author of this post did not ring the network with a sales pitch based at the southern Sydney market called 'Yasmin's getting Lebbed', starring Bilal Skaf and friends.
But he did want to, so very, very much.

10 days in an oxygen tent, it's kind of like camping, without the fun or the ability to breath freely

Having had the pleasure of catching a double pneumonia in a single chest (overachiever that I am), I can tell you that life in an oxygen ten is far from the bag of laughs I assumed it would be. I had assumed, in my stupidity, that life as a 'bubble boy' would be fun.
It's not.
Enough said.
Oh, and to the nice nurse who was always there to give me my sponge bath, I'm afraid that I did lie, it wasn't a 'normal physical reaction'.
Damn, be still my filthy old mind. A girl in uniform, what can I say in my defence?

Disclaimer: The author of this post is not currently being sued for alleged sexual harassment of nursing staff. He is, however, suing Medicare for the lack of opportunity to commit sexual harassment of nursing staff.

101 Uses for your Ex

Use Number 101 : Wheel Chock.

How often have you had to change the wheel on your automobile on uneven ground?
Safety in this matter is paramount, if your 'Chariot of Righteousness' decides to roll off the jack you could suffer an injury.
The obvious answer is to chock the wheels to prevent this, but what to use? If it's something too fragile, the rolling 'Chariot' will crush the item, and you could be out of pocket, or worse, if the soccer finals are coming up, minus a much loved and needed half brick. The solution is to find something useless, something you won't miss, or be worried about seeing under an automobile.
Solution? Your Ex.
The one item in your life that is not only expendable, but practical to use on both a physical and psychological level.
On a physical level, it is much better to chock two wheels rather than one, but if you are like me and only have short Ex's, don't panic, one wheel is safer than none.
As for the psychological level, well, explanations here are probably superfluous?
There could be some difficulties getting the Ex to lay behind the wheel, but perhaps a call asking if they would like to 'catch up' could solve the problem (of course, an offer to 'catch up' 5 km from the King Georges road exit on the M5 might make them a little suspicious).

Next, use number 100, fall guy for a Nigerian internet banking scheme.

Disclaimer: No Ex partners were harmed or ended up under stationary (or for that matter, mobile) automobiles during the writing of this post.

More's the pity.