Pre-requisites for Becoming a Teen Mom:

1.       Must dye hair colour at least twice every month. Must be peroxide blonde at least once.

2.       Must have long garishly coloured acrylic nails – see previous blog for more details.

3.       Needs to say “like”, “I thought he had changed” and “I never realised being a mom was so hard” a lot and without noticing the irony.

4.       Optional ability to cry unattractively – see appendix one “Farrah”.

5.       If applicant has parental units that are willing to help with the union product then they must be ungrateful and rude at all times which may consist of but is not limited to:

o   Using a nasally tone

o   Having a bitchy attitude

o   Saying “I know that, Mom” when being told something they didn’t know

o   Arguing for no reason

o   Making stupid mistakes

o   Crying over the fact that everything has been handed to you even though you went and made a really stupid mistake and yet you still haven’t got the 70 inch plasma flat screen you always wanted.

once again see appendix one “Farrah” who will be, for the further duration of this blog, titled as Little Bitch Cryface.

6.       Choosing a hopeless partner who may present one or all of the following features:

o   A cap either worn normally but often backwards, sidewards etc

o   Dirty, dirty boy stubble

o   Some form of body “art” – tattoo, piercing, stretch earring etc

o   Must wear oversized clothes either shirt or pants

o   Must say “I’ll definitely help with the baby”, “I want to be there for you and the baby” and “I love and care for you and the baby”.

o   Must then renege on one or all of the previous point’s statements. Preferably by just walking out and never returning except to leave badly constructed text messages on the applicant’s phone.

7.       Applicant for “Teen Mom” status must have at least one piercing on their person. Extra points will be considered for hideous around-the-mouth-often-gets-mistaken-for-a-pimple piercings.

8.       Must always be heavily in debt and/or in need of money and must discuss this constantly.

9.       Preferable if the applicant makes a constant yet ever unsuccessful attempt to get their high school diploma or equivalent whilst always talking about how they will “definitely” get it.

10.   Applicant must have awful first name preferably misspelt. Examples include: Catelynn, Jenelle, Nikkole, Kailyn, Christinna, Cleondra.

11.   Once passing the previous pre-requisites and receiving the union product they will then badly name and misspell their own badly named product. Here are some applicants’ previous choices – Aubree, Alleah, Genesis, Carolynn, Jace, Neveah, Jordynn, Brooklynn, Kay’Den, Destiny, Rylan, Kylee, Aydenn.   

12.   Must be between the ages of 13 – 19.

13.   Must be female.

14.   For extra credit points the successful applicant may choose a second hopeless partner, or return to first, and conceive, badly name and badly raise one or more extra children.

Appendix One – Farrah/Cryface

This could be you!

Modern Day Television at its Finest(?)

Now I’ve just recently moved house and I didn’t own a television. I never use to watch much free-to-air shows anyway because I had cable – those days are now gone. I now have a tv. I now realise how hilarious and ridiculous free-to-air television really is.

I’m home during the day a lot which means I am now exposed to daytime television. Sure there’s the chat shows, the soaps and all that jazz but it’s the commercials that get me laughing. If there’s not someone shouting at you about the benefits of a clean toilet or the heavily discounted prices of a brassiere then it’s stereotypical figures tricking you into thinking they know you. The best are the life insurance ads. One of them contains a bunch of middle age women sitting around a table, having just played tennis (which has no relevance to the ad) and one of them tells the other – leaning in with excitement about the decorating she is going to do in her new house. Instead of the others laughing and rolling their eyes wondering how they get rid of this one dimensional woman with the use of readily available objects they proceed to warn her about the difficulties of life. Or rather death. If you died WHO would pay for your children’s food? Your mortgage? Your funeral? Who indeed. Isn’t that the mystery of death? You die and leave a whole pile of mess for others to clean up... I mean no matter how no fuss they say it’s going to be it’s really going to be a total pain in the arse for everyone else concerned. Just because you’ve thrown money at this impending and inevitable problem on a weekly basis doesn’t mean your underpant draw has been dealt with. Or your collection of antique thimbles that only you have ever liked will certainly be dumped in the neighbour’s bin on the way out by one of your surviving loved ones. But I digress. The women begin discussing life insurance and how important it is. Home decorator woman pipes up with how expensive it must be and then sulks whilst saying maybe she shouldn’t do it at all to pay for it. Again violence does not ensue. Instead the women say that it’s so cheap it’s just the same as the cost of their “weekly goss mag”. Honestly that’s what she said. It’s just like the script writers were so tired after a long night of scripting something else that this ad landed on their desks so they proceeded to make it as superficial and awkward as possible. –shudder- It was really weird.

After having not having a tv for such a while I forgot the art of flicking needlessly between channels to somehow fill the minute void of ads with a minute of something else – completely out of context. Finally a show I recognised. “Judge Judy”. It’s always entertaining to see a shrivelled up toad of a woman with an embroidered napkin around her neck dispense harsh realities to toothless individuals. Then came an ad break. It was for some new fangled kitchen appliance called the “Magic Bullet” which blends everything in the universe in under ten seconds. I waited. The ad went on. I waited. The ad went on. The ad went for so long I felt the need to scream at the tv “WHERE’S JUDGE JUDY!? WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER, YOU TIME HOGGING BLENDER!?” The ad went for half an hour. The most disturbing part is I watched the entire half hour – without taking my own life. It was like the previous ad. The scene is set in an everyday kitchen and gradually different guests of the two hosts emerge and complain about being hungry and hungover. My deductive brain said that they had all had a big night... though why five adults had to have a slumber party is beyond me. Some weird sexual stuff going on in the subtext but there you go. So the hosts proceed to make breakfast in their magic bullet. They have one each. Must be a new activity for couples. “Hey there husbands and wives couples! Do you want to replace the sexual void of your marriage with this great and fun blendy thing?” Man I should be doing the ad for this. Anyway during the course of the half hour the hosts proceeded to make several different types of breakfast, lunch, dinner and about a dozen snacks in between. No one ate anything. They just kept cooking. And cooking. And cooking. Then some bedraggled old woman with what looked like a possum on her head shuffled in and began chain smoking whilst marvelling at the wonders of the magic bullet. No one jumped up to shoo this obviously lost old hag off the premises they just kept their eyes on the damn bullet! It’s hypnotic! I mean by the end of the ad I was ready to order one – not because I needed it... or wanted it but because I felt like I had to. My body was possessed. Then I was told I could get a second magic bullet for half price if I ordered RIGHT NOW. I tell you... the people on this ad and those that watch the ads, myself included, do need a bullet but it sure ain’t a magic one.   

So to come to a conclusion free-to-air television is very odd to the subjective eye. I mean there’s a show called “The Biggest Loser”. Isn’t that insulting? I know it’s about losing the most weight but the title makes me think of a total deadbeat. Watch “The Biggest Douche” and see fat people cry and sweat at the same time.

Un-Bear-able

Okay I really didn’t think I needed to write this blog but I can’t hold it in anymore.

Bear Grylls is stupid. Or rather his show “Man vs Wild” is stupid. A load of wank dispensed directly into your own private domain.

Now I was holding off writing this blog because I watched my first ever screening of the show last week and was frustrated from the minute the theme song had finished rolling. I did some research (well Wikipedia...) and found out that Bear had done all these things for charity and is the best person ever and blah blah blah so I tried really hard not to bag his unnecessarily adventurous ass. That was until I saw another episode.

Where do I begin? The show starts with a disclaimer that blatantly says half the crap you see has been set up for him to conquer whilst his safety team stand mere millimetres from the shot should he endure a splinter or some such thing. It just annoys me that some people will be watching and assuming everything seen on the show is real and he is a real man trying to succeed against a harsh landscape and to an extent it is. But remember people – it’s a TV SHOW! It is designed for our entertainment. If it was real he would starve and commando crawl his sorry and soggy ass to a blunt object and club himself to death. If only. That is what I would watch.  

Okay there are some good skills he is teaching – I get it. But the fact is you wouldn’t need these skills if you kept clear of all treacherous landscapes unattended. The show is begging moronic individuals to go to remote and dangerous locations, taunt predators and make heroes of themselves. Having said that – what is the first rule of most safety and rescue related occupations? Don’t be a hero. But Mr. Grylls is encouraging us with his slow and oddly intonated narration that any type of nature situation can be solved with bungee cord from his backpack. Why doesn’t he have anything sensible in his backpack? From what I’ve seen it holds nothing more than a knife and his gaudy jacket when he chooses to take it off. Why doesn’t he have a torch or some dried food? I’m no adventure seeker but I know what is required for camping type situations.

How does he get away with murdering innocent animals on television? I was disgusted to see him murder a wild pig. It was ghastly. And unnecessary. How are animal rights people not up in arms?

I just realised that this show is really no different to “Jackass”. Think about it. The disclaimer at the start of the programme, a host with little hair and an odd speaking voice and eating disgusting objects such as poo, wee, blood, etc. Not to mention a stupid name. How is Steve-O any different to Bear? I guess Bear hasn’t drunk his own piss yet... I’m sure it’s in the works when the “writers” get desperate.

He's just an oversized boy scout. I want him to get mauled by a bear... there’s some good watchin’.