Firstly, I would like to know how many cases there are of someone shooting at people multiple times to just scare them a little bit. For the future reference of whoever approved that title; when bullets are fired from guns at other people, the intention is usually to kill.
Secondly, Yahoo needs to pick up the act with regard to editing the actual copy. Grammatical / typo errors (from the article above) are a common occurrence in Yahoo news:
He was at shot five times
But he did say police previously had attended the Castle Cove home although he would not reveal how many times or why
I know, it’s Yahoo, but they are only acting as a syndicator of content anyway. All I’m asking of them is to do their basic editing job.
OK! So I’m procrastinating when I’m meant to be writing a script for uni. Well, you could say I was Googling around for inspiration when I found this site. This guy does brilliant cartoons! Maybe it’ll help with my storyboarding.
A bit over a year ago I posted an article on barcodes. Here’s another interesting one I found not so long ago. This brand of orange juice not only uses the fashionably long barcode on the back of the package, but also integrates the same barcode (yep, I checked it) in the logo on the front. Interesting… or at least I thought.
That’s right, it’s the Simantic Blog by request. A couple of you’ve have requested to know about the new love in my life — and no, it’s not a young lass… It’s my new iMac! Twenty-four inches of beauty, plus a bit more. I know what you’re thinking… ‘that’s what she said, wooo’ Anyway, here it is.
I got it last Thursday and it’s here to replace my 5-year-old 15-inch iMac G4. A couple of the things I’m enjoying (on top of the sheer speed, memory handling and storage) are the two USB 2 ports built into the keyboard, Bluetooth and the new iApps… oh, and that new Mac smell
Also on the request list was to see the Transformers’ Optimus Prime statue currently in reception at my work. This photo I took on my phone, so excuse the quality. To give you some idea of size, standing next to Optimus, I am about up to his shoulders.
Let’s face it, I’m very pensive. In fact, sometimes I catch myself with my head tilted on a 45-degree angle, staring blanking into space (ala JD from Scrubs) while someone is mid-conversation with me. But I’m not the sort of guy who learns life’s lessons after being punched in the face or told to get stuffed by someone. I’m more likely to find the meaning of it all after watching Spike Jonze videos and Fatlip at 12.30 on a Sunday.
That’s right kids, it’s time once again for Simon’s Self-indulgent Cynical Sunday… with your host, Sim Diddy Kane Jr aka Alvin Nathaniel Joiner IV. So get ready and don’t say I didn’t warn you because I’m doing it right now…
I love pubs. And I’m not a fan of smoking. So as you can guess (if you even remember) that I’m pretty excited about the new anti-smirking er, smoking laws that came in today. The thing about pubs is you can go up to anyone and start talking to them — and in my old age I think I’m rather akin to this notion. So, you can just start chewing the fat with any old chum — you don’t even have to be into cars or footy — get to know them, learn a bit about them and yourself and then feel a little better for trying to be human. Then you can give yourself a pat on the back. But don’t do it too obviously or people might stare. And this doesn’t have to be like the ridiculous idle small-talk that you have with the grocery lady or with the PR person at work whose name you can’t remember. It’s just a few beers between “mates”. The other great thing about pubs is you can do this with people of all ages (well, obviously not younger than the 16-year-old kid with the fake ID) and either gender.
Here’s the problem: Whenever I’m dragged into a club by one of my friends, I take with me the ethos of the pub. So I’ll attempt to spark up a conversation with someone over the noise that inundates the place. The thing is that if you’re trying to pick up that cute young lass in a pub and she’s taken, at least you’ve met someone, learned a thing or two and maybe even publicly patted your own back. Try and do the same thing at a club and if you’re lucky you might get a polite “fuck-off!”.
Last night — after a few — I sat down and gave up being social. But then I started speaking to some young ladies next to me, who were very nice and polite, and managed to find out from them that they came to this shit-hole of a decadent club every week because their boyfriends worked behind the bar. I guess they loved dancing, which is fair enough, and just wanted to chill with their friends. I stopped pitying myself for a few minutes and started to pity them. Over the course of the night I noticed how the bar staff behaved and were treated. One girl behind the bar had a bandage around her hand and despite not being able to carry the trays of glasses without pain, was continuing to work. One of the guys behind the bar poured Jager in her mouth, I guess either to help her with the pain or because they’re both just so fucking stupid. Then there was a dude who thought he’d try a bar-trick and toss the glass behind his back. The retard was clearly not trained and it’s a miracle the thing didn’t shatter everywhere.
On top of all this I was charged when picking up my jacket to go home. You’d think after paying to come to this place, paying for expensive drinks, asking a security guy where the cloak room is, following his directions and going down five flights of stairs, following the directions of the lady downstairs and going back upstairs, finding that the cloakroom was on the left and not the right like she’d said, leaving my jacket (and my name and phone number on a clipboard!) at the cloakroom, and not being told that it cost initially — that they might just let you walk free for christsake.
Alongside seeing how the bar staff were treated, how this place — like so many others — was run and speaking to some of the regulars, I decided that the club scene isn’t for me. Not that this is really a revelation to anyone but me, who didn’t realise it all until watching Fatlip interviewed by Spike Jonze on a hungover Sunday afternoon.
Anyway, here it is. 
