This week, it’s something that happened last week, but whatevs. It’s pretty Australian to be late isn’t it? I don’t know, I can’t be stuffed finding out. Which I reckon is pretty Aussie too. Anyway, at a KFC Big Bash match last week, a seagull was doing absolutely nothing wrong – maybe just looking for chips, hot chips or french fries, depending on where you’re from – when it was suddenly and outrageously clocked by a cricket ball at extremely high velocity, and flattened. It was fair dinkum out cold. (Video below) Thousands breathed in sharply, fearing the worst for the poor bird. Fielder Rob Quiney delicately carried it from the field. Well, as delicately as an Aussie sportsman can hold a possibly dead bird. Think of a dog at a barbecue running around the backyard with a stolen sausage. Anyway, he placed it delicately(ish) behind the boundary rope, waved for someone to help (do they have vets at the cricket now?) then went back to the Big Bash. He was the only one though, as a couple of deliveries later, what followed was the biggest roar from any crowd at any event on any night for a very long time. The seagull was up! Every camera switched from the pretend action (cricket) to the real action (groggy bird). The seagull was visibly breathing in very deeply, and proceeded to stumble around for a few minutes on legs that must’ve felt like squashed chips (or hot chips, or French fries, or potatoes for the purists). Next, the seagull was back in the action. The ball and two fielders approached. The seagull, sensing its moment, made an attempt at revenge, mistaking its saviour for its attacker and flew for Quiney’s ankles. A near miss! Another huge roar from the crowd! Watch it here: Only in Australia can a bird widely regarded as a rat of the sky and pigeon from the beach, so quickly enter the hearts and minds of thousands, just for being belted. There’s nothing Australian about succeeding. What is far more respected is doing what you do, then copping one. Instead of…

My new regular column “The most Australian thing to happen this week (imho)”… For The Big Smoke. Check it out! A journalist went for a jog. Not for a drink, a smoke or a cry over his meagre wages. A jog, around Parliament House, with a colleague. Afterwards, one of the two journalists, Nick Butterly of The West Australian, was stopped by a guard at the public entrance metal detectors, and asked to remove his t-shirt. She said, “I’m sorry sir you will have to take that off. It’s offensive.” The t-shirt featured a renowned headline from the New York Post: “Headless body in topless bar.” The Department of Parliamentary Services was asked to clarify what the rules are on t-shirt slogans, and who gets to determine what is, or is not, offensive. The official response was that Parliament had a longstanding policy of not allowing offensive messages on garments within the House. “Offensive messages may relate to a number of issues, including protest slogans, comments on murder or terrorism and those deemed to be not fitting the decorum of the House,” a statement read. This is barely a week after French newspaper Charlie Hebdo was attacked, millions around the world marched in favour of freedom of speech, violence around the world inspired by this issue is ongoing and the Australian Parliament came out in staunch support of freedom of speech. Barely a week after all that very vocal support for a French newspaper, an Australian journalist wearing the headline of an American paper is told to strip naked. This either shows that the Australian Parliament completely misunderstands what free speech is…or that female security guard has just bestowed on the world one of the finest examples of irony ever. It’s possible that she has the greatest sense of timing and humour in all of history, and we’ve all missed the joke. However, I doubt it. So in relation to freedom of speech, the Australian Government’s position is pretty much: “Yeah mate, we’re all for it. Go for it champion. Say whatever you like. Free country and all that… What’s that now?…

The festival season might be run and done, but here’s a quick glance back at something we all have to deal with every holiday season… So you know what the whole festive holiday season means to me? Stress. Rushing to do too much in too little time, traffic and crawling around overstuffed multi-level carparks. If anything proves the existence of the devil, it’s carparks. No matter how many levels high they might be, it always feels like you’re underground and surrounded by urine and crime. Once trapped inside, you crawl around looking for a park or an exit, and there’s always a point when you feel as though you’re never going to find either. Carparks for me are a reminder of what really happens during the holiday season. Before the break begins, you imagine it will be filled with all the fun stuff you never had time for during the year, but you never budget for the time wasted in carparks. To properly enjoy your leisure time, you make sure everything else is done first, but when that stuff doesn’t get done, you run out of time for fun. The way life is structured, we always seem to leave the things that we enjoy most until last. The holidays are the one time of year when I’m sure it’s not going to happen again, and then it happens again. All those little obligations slice away at your holiday pie until it’s all over way too soon; tasks you don’t see coming, or because they’re so mundane, you assume they won’t take any time at all. Picking up relatives from the airport, lining up at the deli, parking the car. Which all used to make me super-stressed. Then, with everyone constantly reminding me that it’s the exact opposite of what this time of year is supposed to be about, it just stressed me out even more. So you know what I’ve realised? It’s not all about me. A lot of these obligations involve us doing things for other people. Maybe you’d prefer not to go to so many family functions, to drive…

“Hey you. If you’ve got a problem, do something about it. Don’t talk about it. Nobody cares.” As a man, I’ve heard this before. All the time actually, and in several different ways. After a girlfriend cheated on me, when I was shattered and expressed a need to discuss it, a friend told me: “You need to stop talking and thinking about it right now. Nobody cares.” When I was having a particularly hard time while performing at a comedy festival a female friend said: “Nobody likes the sad guy. Stop being the sad guy.” When I asked a family member for advice, he said: “You’ve never asked before. So why ask now? Actually, the best advice I can give you is to figure it out for yourself.” When I wanted some career advice from a manager at work I was told: “A man’s job is to provide. You want a family? You won’t have time for feelings or any of that shit.” I caught up with a friend to “talk”. He said, “You wanted to talk? So start talking. I’m watching the footy.” A study has just been released, which has found that “lonely men lose friends when life gets busy”. Apparently as work, family and other commitments eat up their time, men have less time for friends. Here’s a survey question I’d like to ask: “Where’s the survey that doesn’t just state the blindingly obvious while pretending it’s actually important?” Then here’s a rule for newspapers: “No more telling us common sense things as if they’re news. Unless you also tell us something worth knowing.” According to this survey, one in four Australian men between 30 and 65 years of age have few or no social connections, and loneliness and isolation are common. My response? SO WHAT? BIG DEAL! NOBODY CARES. Every one of my friends, male or female, has mostly or completely disappeared as they’ve settled into long-term relationships, started families, moved away, etc. You only have so many hours in a day, and as your commitments increase, your time for friends whittles away to almost zero….

Want to read the most pointless and stupid advice ever offered about air travel? Take a look at THIS article on the Daily Mail… Maybe it’s not the MOST pointless or stupid…but please don’t point me to anything more idiotic, as I might actually dig the eyes out of my own skull with my own fingers out of pure frustration and anger, instead of just seriously thinking about it. As I am right now? So someone surveyed 1,000 travellers and found that they find a whole lot of stuff annoying when travelling by plane. This survey goes right at the top of my ever-growing pile of: “Painfully obvious surveys the world never needed.” Otherwise known as: “People will read this because of the promise of something interesting and relevant to their own lives, which is never, ever delivered.” So it turns out, the things air travellers find most annoying are all extremely obvious and bland. Of course. The best/worst part of this survey though, are the absolutely moronic suggestions for how to deal with them. These ideas are brain-smashingly poor. I’ve seen squashed insects come up with more coherent suggestions. The fact that upright walking and perhaps talking beings were paid to put this together, then others of my same species thought it was a good idea to distribute this junk, and still others in numbers way too numerous to survey might even be contemplating these suggestions…well, it all makes me want to leave for Mars. As on that planet, there’s no human life, and all humans expire the moment they arrive. Just, ugh. Still it’s easy to criticise, and it’s fun. That’s why I do it so often. However criticism without ideas for improvement is talkback radio, or the current Australian parliament. Basically, it’s only for the poorest examples of humanity. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll list the complaint, the percentage of people who complained, Expedia’s weird suggestion for dealing with it, why that’s stupid and then my suggestions. Not very entertaining to explain, but it’ll be ace to read I promise. Here we go… Annoying…

As an Aussie in NYC and Xmas Orphan, I’ve composed my very own “Twelve Days of Christmas”. You know, just because… Why not?   What’s a Xmas Orphan? Extremely unlike an actual orphan, it’s someone who’s going to spend the holiday season well away from the majority of their friends and family. Usually by choice. Usually in another country. I suppose a Xmas orphan could be an actual orphan as well, but that lends a whole dire tone to what is supposed to be a jolly piece touched only with a little sadness. So here we go.   The Twelve Days of Being a Xmas Orphan. As told by a guy spending Xmas in New York, while his friends and family are in Australia.   On the first day of Xmas, nobody sent to me: Anything.   On the second day of Xmas, my parents sent to me: Two invitations to family functions they knew I couldn’t attend, Which I was okay with.   On the third day of Xmas, my best friend from back home sent to me: Three photos from a Xmas lunch with all my other friends, And the weather was awesome.   On the fourth day of Xmas, an ex-girlfriend sent to me: 4 texts telling me she’d moved on, I thought four was too many, and zero would’ve been more believable.   On the fifth day of Xmas, a different ex-girlfriend sent me: Five photos from her wedding, I have no idea why.   On the sixth day of Xmas, my parents sent to me: Six cards from different relatives, Meaning I now had to send them cards back that wouldn’t arrive until after Xmas.   On the seventh day of Xmas, I was invited to seven different orphans’ Xmas parties, Well seven people said they were organising one.   On the eighth day of Xmas, The seven different orphans decided they were going to other parties, However I did get one invitation to spend the day with Australian ex-pats.   On the ninth day of Xmas, It was nine degrees below zero and that was the…

What’s the age gap between you and your partner? Recent studies have shown that the closer in age you are, the lower your chances of divorce. Gee! What a surprise. (Not.) If you’re deciding on whether or not to pursue a relationship solely based on the age gap rule, or any rule, then you’re not mature enough to be in a relationship. Your ideal partner is probably still in their teens, and unless you’re also in your teens, you need help. Possibly legal help. Society has rules for a reason… Throughout the centuries, there has been this idea that women mature earlier than men, mentally as well as physically. So the ideal age for a woman to marry is in her early ’20s, while for a man it’s his early ’30s. This little theory seems to have been mostly perpetuated by men in their late ’30s. Naughty men. Then, there are those cultures where the age gap blows out and mature men are paired with teen brides. YUCK. STOP IT. It is a fact that women live longer on average than men. So if we’re living in an age where the main aim is still lifetime lasting monogamy (which, according to religion and romantic comedies, it definitely is), there is a very sensible argument to be made for the fact that older women should be pursuing younger men. Shut up with your arguments about biological clocks. Science will be fixing that any time soon if it hasn’t already. Or maybe that’s just an argument for us all getting a lot more organised? Especially men. Like me. Mid-’30s and still never married. The perfect example of the teapot calling out everyone else other than himself. Bad teapot. Oh, and there’s the “half your age plus seven years” rule. Heard that one? You halve your years and add seven, and that’s the age of the youngest person you should date. To work out the oldest prospective partner, you double your years then subtract seven. Another rule obviously invented by men, because it quite literally doesn’t add up. Also, with the prevalence in society of rich men dating…

So there were a whole bunch of white men in uniform acting inappropriately in NYC on Saturday December 13th and for a change, it wasn’t the NYPD. It was Santa Claus. Thousands of them. Last Saturday, New Yorkers had a choice. 1) Join the ‘Millions March’ and protest against the racism ingrained in America’s police and legal institutions. 2) Dress up as Santa Claus, get smashed and act like a dick. 3) Do neither, and attempt to go about your day in New York City. If that involved going anywhere near Manhattan, your day likely included whinging about how both events completely ruined your day. Welcome to New York. There’s always an event. 4) Stay home, hide and pretend that racism doesn’t exist, and that Santa Claus isn’t a drunk white arsehole. I’m not sure about the official numbers, but I was at the Millions March, and the crowd did stretch over a mile. Police estimated it at under 30,000, while the events organisers put the number at over 50,000. Most significant protests over the last few decades are about something other than the police, however the police are always in attendance. Considering this protest was in large part about the police, I’m going to go with the protestors estimate. I did see a guy standing on a car and attempting to count the protestors, and he seemed to point his pen at everyone that I saw, so maybe someone should’ve asked him? The ‘Millions March’ was part of a string of demonstrations around the country, following the grand jury decisions not to indict the police officers who killed Michael Brown and Eric Garner, which sit at a seemingly endless list of similar incidents. During my several hours at this protest I did not witness any violence. There were reports of a few of isolated incidents that occurred later in the evening, but considering the number of people, and that the group providing the security were the ones the people were protesting against, I think this almost complete lack of violence is remarkable. The general feeling at the protest seemed…

If all news was good news would we still read the news? No. Russian news site City Reporter only reported good news to its readers for an entire day, and lost two thirds of its normal readership. On some of my down days, I’ve sometimes contemplated starting a website or newspaper that reported only the positive. The idea being that there are just as many if not more positive things happening every day on the planet. It’s just that we never hear about them. We only hear about the awful stuff in an ongoing and never-ending misery-loop. Then we wander through our everyday under the impression that the world is horrible, everything is stuffed and everyone we meet is either trying to harm or trick us. Most people though, are inherently good. It’s just that, as this Russian website found out, nobody cares. Meaning that I haven’t started the Wonderful Weekly or the Sunshine Sunday for the same reason that nobody else has: It’s a stupid idea. There are psychology studies galore which explain why we love to read and watch negative news. Apparently negative events are more memorable and emotionally impactful than positive ones. There’s evidence of this not just in the news. Movies are packed with conflict, violence and horror, often only with a smile peaking through at the very start or end, and sometimes in the middle if someone’s lucky enough to get laid. Think about yourself for a moment. It’s not hard, you do it all the time. So you might get ten positive comments for every one negative piece of feedback, but which one do you remember? That’s right, the negative one. Then there’s the internet, and thanks to the trolls I often get five hundred negative comments, and a link to a website that promises to improve my erection, and no positivity. So that’s 501 to zero, and I ignore them all apart from the gif of the monkey drinking it’s own wee because as well as the negative, we’re also obsessed with the freaky. Anyway, there are also cats on the internet. It’s one cat…

After two weeks of talks, and another two bonus days of extra time talks, because the original talks ended in a tie or something, there was still nothing decided at the Lima Climate Change Conference. It was never going to achieve anything but still, what a waste of everyone’s time. Maybe we needed a penalty shootout of climate talks? Where the developing nations get to kick soccer balls at the heads of the rich nations. It’d make a great YouTube video, and make everyone feel a little better. The poorer nations will get to work out their frustrations with some exercise, and the richer nations will get the punishment they know they deserve. You know, in the same way that some politicians and judges like to be spanked by hookers. There were 194 countries represented at these talks. Apart from some large hotel bills, many sore heads, lots of good times, and lots and lots of paper with stuff on it that sounded meaningful but wasn’t, did anything at all happen? Not really. The most important thing to come out of these talks was a framework, or a commitment, or a something. To maybe agree to possibly do something related to addressing the issue of climate change at some stage. As long as nobody is too put out or has anything else on please hold that elevator and pass the sugar what a nice jacket and scarf thank you so much this has truly been a delight. According to the European Union, when everyone meets in Paris in 2015, there are now high hopes that a global climate deal will get done. Meaning the Lima Climate Conference was the most expensive example ever of a meeting where all that was decided is that there’ll be another meeting. Where everyone might talk about it then. In case you were wondering here’s what was actually decided at the Lima Conference: 1) An “ambitious agreement” in 2015 that reflects “differentiated responsibilities and respective capabilities” of each nation. Translation: We all agree to disagree, for now. Until next year, when we all agree that…