Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

We’re moving!

Posted: October 6, 2014 in Uncategorized

Hey all

So I’ll be moving the totallyawesomename blog to my website http://www.thegarethwoods.com

It’ll still be as amazing (average) and awe inspiring (time consuming) as always so please do stop by.

Will be posting on both sites for awhile, but eventually all posts/links/vids/random cat posts will be from the new site.

#rantover

boys-vs-girls

What if we took all the stereotypes of one gender and acted them out with the other gender?

hilarious no doubt!

Take a watch – first Guys acting like Girls then Girls acting as guys

Personally I think the Girls acting like guys is funnier but maybe that makes me a chauvinist pig – Freud would have a field day with this one.

I aint skerd

I aint skerd

What’s better than a wholesome laugh that everyone can share…

Laughing at someone else’s horror and misfortune #duh

Check out this compilation of the 50 best scare cams

This is my current favourite thing (because lets be honest I’ll probably have a new favourite thing by tomorrow)

Image

Out of all the disputes that make up the great debate between evolution and creationism, all the angst and argumentation usually centres around one core dispute and that is the origin of the human race. Creationists don’t appear to be at odds with too much about evolutionary theory except that key little assumption that man is descended from apes. You can tell them birds used to be fish or dogs used to be frogs, but don’t you dare tell them they used to be monkeys.

Whether you do believe in evolution or are wrong, there is one thing that you probably also question about the whole process and that is; if man did evolved from apes, why are there still apes?

Surely if one day apes decided it was time to evolve from hairy, feces-flinging primates into less hairy, feces-speaking homo sapiens, then apes would no longer exist? Unless what we have here ladies and gentlemen is the biggest and most significant example of “failure to launch” that has ever existed.

Like the 35 year old bachelor still living in his parents’ basement, apes have procrastinated and avoided evolution to a point well beyond parental embarrassment and comparison with their peers.

You can only imagine the conversation between ape and his mother regarding his evolutionary non-activity.

“So when are you actually going to do something with your life? Have you seen what human has been up to? He’s discovered fire; invented the wheel and you haven’t even left home yet. I heard now he’s discovered electricity, can communicate instantly across the planet and is exploring outer space. What have you done?”

“I beat my previous poo throwing record. “

“Don’t you think it’s about time you left home and started evolving? “

“Gosh mom! I’ll do it this afternoon!”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that anymore you’ve been saying that for half a million years now.”

“Don’t worry about it mom, that whole evolution thing is just a fad. You’ll see the bands gonna make it.”

“If it’s so important, how come you never evolved, Mom? “

“I wanted to, in fact I had started, I was already into my 2nd year of evolving when I met your father and had you. We couldn’t afford the fees anymore so had to drop out.”

Whenever I go back to my home town for the obligatory Wedding, Funeral or School Reunion I honestly feel like I’m going back to the monkeys. My former classmates and friends still living in the same room they had as a kid, still doing the same stuff.

“Hey man, its so good to be back. So what you been up to? “

“You know same old. I beat my previous poo throwing record.”

“That’s great! “

“My room is a tree house! “

“Good for you.”

“What you been up to? Oh nothing really. Discovered fire, built the wheel, started agriculture, been to outer space, invented the internet, not to mention the Big Mac and pizza with cheese in the crust.”

“That’s cool. You want a banana? I’m allowed to eat as many as I want… even on school nights.”

“MOM! Bring me some bananas!” “MOM!” MOOOOM!”

No thanks, not really into bananas anymore.

You’ve changed, man…

 

And you can’t argue with monkeys, they’re pretty stubborn little creatures.

“Surely you can’t still believe that gay marriage should be illegal especially in a free and democratic society where everyone should enjoy the right to be treated equal.”

“Actually God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”

“Ok that’s a good argument, I mean a rhyming couplet using human names including 2 that are a metaphor for human creation”

“It’s not nature’s way!”

‘Well I won’t get started about a talking monkey then, but you realize that marriage is a human construction much like the car, ice cream and the Macarena. No one seems to care that they aren’t natural!”

“Marriage is for procreation!”

“What about all the married couples that can’t have children? What about the millions of children born out of wedlock? What about all the orphaned babies that are a burden on our economy that instead get adopted by gay couples?”

“OOH OOH AAAH AAH AAAAH”

At which point I need to stop the argument and run while I have feces thrown at me. At least humans are willing to have a conversation with one another without resorting to throwing poo at each other to make a point.

2012 in review

Posted: January 9, 2013 in Uncategorized

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 12,000 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 20 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

Image

Humans have this strange urge to name things, whether it is the scientific classifications of all the flora and fauna on our planet; explorers naming countries, islands or mountains after themselves or even the naming (and renaming and re-renaming) of streets and roads.

It gets to the stage where some people will  even start naming inanimate objects because a TV is not a good enough name for a TV it has to be “Stevey the TV”. The car is “Frankie”, the Fridge is “Phil” and the toilet is “Lucy” (Get it? Lucy Loo?). I can’t really complain too much I lived in one house called “Homer” and another called “Millhouse” (big Simpsons fan – although that doesn’t explain my one apartment being called Flatrick Swayze).

The point is people like to name things and I don’t have a problem with this except for two things. The first is alliterative naming conventions. You know plenty of examples even if you’re not one hundred percent sure about what I’m saying. Normally relegated to children’s books and television characters cursed by this clumsy christening include Tommy the Tomato, Christopher the Carrot, Helga the Hippo and several other characters that I’m certain are springing back to life in your recollection.

Why are characters being bound and shackled by their name? Can a Carrot not being more than just 1/26th of the alphabet? Does he not want more? Why be cursed by the constant reminder of his Carroty-ness? There’s more to him than a name a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, just ask Robby the Rose.

I apologise if that first point made very little sense. It’s something that has irked me since I was a small child. I remember asking the omnipotent, omniscient and om-something else teacher why the characters in books always had names that sounded similar to their surnames. (What a precocious little scamp I was.) Why were humans not all named Harry or Harold or Herbert or that’s pretty much all the “H” names I can think of, oh wait, Helen!

To which she responded: “It’s because Santa Claus isn’t real and all your toys aren’t made by elves but by small Chinese children in sweat shops”.

I later found out that it was her last day working there.

More on this next time…

Screw Condoms... (well duh)

It happened… it finally happened. I have discovered a way to remove every ounce of libido from a man. I have discovered the ultimate anti-aphrodisiac able to turn even the most single minded sex crazed lunatic into a mentally castrated celibate.

I would love to tell you that these findings were after intentional experimentation resulting in a desired scientific finding, but alas this was not the case. You see, this unfortunate discovery was an accident and will forever stain my memory until the forgiving “ctrl+z” of old age or amnesia takes it away.

Enough of this unnecessary elaboration let me tell you how it all happened.

It was an ordinary day of work; ordinary in the sense that it was already 2pm and I had done almost no work. I was walking to a meeting from the canteen, having survived another fancifully named stew containing meat of species unknown. I was certain that the meeting was in the aptly named “yo-yo” room (apt in that during most meetings I felt like hanging myself from a length of rope) and so simply walked in to room (in a bit of a hurry I might add as I was a tad late).

I simply walked into the room and took a seat without realising that I had stepped into the wrong room. Instead of walking into the finance meeting I had been dreading all week I had stepped into something beyond my wildest dread filled nightmares – a baby shower and I was the only guy.

My immediate reaction was to apologise for barging in and to simply leave until I realised that this was the baby shower I had actually been invited to and had sensibly avoided RSVP’ing for.

And that is where it happened the most un-aroused I had ever been; a black hole of libido; the antithesis of horniness. I feared that somehow I had actually broken my sex drive forever. Most women will think that I’m overreacting and most men, well pray you have never experienced a baby shower otherwise you know exactly what it’s like.

As each gift was opened the shrieks of female delight tore through me like… like…um… some sort of really powerful tearing machine moving through something that is very easy to tear (NOOOOO! Even my imagination has been shattered by the horror of that day). Nappies; bibs; baby clothes; each and every gift brought out a shriek of excitement and an echo of “aaaaaaaw that’s so cute” as well as some sort of crazy gibberish including that’s so “noo-nee”.

I didn’t realise the full horrifying affect on my libido till one of the gifts was a life like looking set of plastic breasts supposedly for “dad” so that he could breast feed if mom was sore. I’m not sure whether it was the mental image of a man wearing plastic breasts to feed a baby or if someone had dropped a glass on the floor but I could’ve sworn a heard a loud crashing sound which I think may have been my last shred of sex drive shattering into a million little pieces.

I may never truly recover from what I saw that day; I could be trapped with voices screaming “oooh that’s so shnookie wookie” every time I close my eyes; I may remain a hollow listless shell for the rest of my life, but with the help of some of my friends who have prescribed a rigorous regime of watching woman’s volleyball, beer commercials and late night movies hopefully one day I will return to the man I once knew.