Worst poem

My last post got me thinking: absolutely anyone can write mediocre poetry, but it's much more difficult to write something truly awful. I thought I’d have a go. I think you’ll agree that my efforts are appalling on a number of levels. If you're offended by this poem, know that I personally hate the message it sends. I don't want you to like this it, even ironically. If you're still offended by it, I don't care. You obviously hate art and can get fucked. Waste of Vag Why can't you be a Normal bitch With half a mind To suck my dick? Instead you are a Grating vegan Witchy, gay Eschewing penii.

Poetry in motion

This happened in high school. I was standing in line outside the classroom, waiting for our English teacher and chatting with  my best pal, Steve. Me: How’d you go with the assignment? Steve: Huh? What assignment? Me: Er, you know… the assignment? We had to write a sonnet? Steve: (looking panicked) Shit! Was that for today?! Yes, it was. And as I looked on, Steve promptly took out his notepad, scribbled down something on a page, and tore it out. The entire process took a couple of minutes at the very most. On the other hand, I had spent hours working on my sonnet. It was: heartfelt about enduring love super romantic in iambic pentameter. In short, it had the traditional content in the traditional format and was everything a sonnet is supposed to be. I was very proud of it and confident our teacher would give me a good mark. I didn’t know what Steve had written about until our work had been graded and returned. And I couldn’t believe it - he’d written a sonnet about a ca

Psst! Hey! Wanna know what a Chinese Snickers tastes like?

Mars used to make Snickers in Australia (in Ballarat), but for years now they've been importing them from China. The company claims it's just a temporary measure while they refit their factory, but they've been saying that for about half a decade so I dunno how genuine they are. I was out of the country between 2012 and 2017, so I hadn't eaten a Snickers in all that time. When I finally bought one again it was 2018 and I wondered what the hell I was eating. The peanuts were all emulsified and the chocolate tasted like nasty off-brand shit. It was a very unpleasant experience. A quick look revealed a note on the packaging: MADE IN CHINA. Yep, that explained it! Still paid top dollar for the fucking thing because Australia. Yuck. I haven't bought Snickers since. Just one miniscule example of how this country isn't as good as it used to be. Onya, Aussie.

A Song of Ice and Fire parody

A long time ago I'd have called myself a fan of George R. R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire . For instance, I thoroughly enjoyed A Game of Thrones  and A Clash of Kings . I can honestly say that not only did these books help cement my absolute love of low fantasy mediaeval realism, they inspired me to write my own fantasy works. Unfortunately I was a little less enthusiastic about A Storm of Swords , nor did I particularly enjoy A Feast for Crows . It seemed to me as if Martin was starting to lose his way. The quality of his prose was slipping, and it felt like he just wasn't delivering the story he'd originally set out to write. When  A Dance With Dragons  came out, I was reluctant to read it. But I did, mainly because I'd already invested so much time and energy in the rest of the series. I couldn't just walk away, could I? I should have. The most pleasant thing I could say about the book was that it felt like a first draft sorely in need of an editor.

The 10-Minute Rule

A survival technique inspired by crap films I was overseas and living alone when A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) popped up on TV one night. I had a hunch it wasn’t my kind of flick early on, but I persevered because: a) I didn't have anything better to do b) a lot of people had said the movie was great. I wish I’d followed my gut instinct and skipped it. I immediately hated the kid playing the lead. He had the most punchable face, and his dippy haircut and dopey expression made me want to pull him through the TV screen and break his spine over my knee. I know it’s wrong and unfair to judge anyone by their appearance, but I don't care. A.I. seemed to go on for a very, very long time - much longer than seemed necessary. There’s a scene, for example, where the kid gets stuck in a little submersible on the bottom of the ocean. I actually thought that was the end of the movie. And let me just say that although I wasn't happy about sacrificing 90 minutes of my life for what

The Lord's Prayer

When I was a kid, school assemblies always began with a recitation of The Lord’s Prayer . It was always a very solemn and serious affair. By the time I got to high school, however, for some unknown reason  The Lord’s Prayer had been set to music - I always thought this stripped away its gravitas and imbued it with a distinctly comedic flavour. I went to a private high school for boys. It was supposed to be a non-denominational school, but our weekly assemblies carried a heavy Christian vibe and a lot of our guest speakers were disturbingly evangelical. For instance, every year this withered old missionary used to hand out tiny red bibles and regale us with a song about the Holy Land. It was a horrible dirge and this guy used to belt it out like he was trying to blow up our PA system. The refrain was a jarring “JERRRUUU-SALEM! JERRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUU-SALEM!” and the entire school used to sit through it while cringing in collective embarrassment. There was always an awful stunned silence

Worst job interview

Or: Dodging Bullets It's late March, 2018. I’m interviewing for a job at a private ESL college in the Melbourne CBD. To get here I’ve taken a 3-hour bus trip and trekked some 30 minutes from Southern Cross. Great city, a nice place to visit, but there’s a lot of traffic and way too much going on. It's fair to say that I'm not a fan of the Big Smoke. I’m about 20 minutes early for my interview, but it’s fine. I’m happy relaxing in the waiting area with my e-reader. My new leather shoes have been torturing my feet, especially that long ligament thingy which connects the shin to the upper foot. That bit really hurts. I haven’t worn trousers or a tie in ages, either, and I’m not exactly relishing the experience. On top of all this, the couch in the waiting area isn’t very comfortable. I’m trying to extract my underpants from my arse without the receptionist noticing. Eventually, INTERVIEWER emerges from the bowels of the college to greet me. He’s the big boss, the CEO. It’s my