The olden inbox

I was reading a discussion of the “vernacular web” by internet artist and theorist Olia Lialina. Amid her exploration of the elements that made up classic mid-’90s webpages, she talks about how in those olden webpages, at the bottom of each page, there’d be a link imploring the visitor to email me.

And I read it and chuckled a little at memories of how webpages used to be. But then I read this in her closing paragraph:

Getting emails from visitors to my site is something I really miss, more than starry night backgrounds and clumsy framesets.

I cranked opened my old mail app and trawled through some emails from almost 10 years ago, from random people out there who were just emailing to say stuff. I felt like I was glimpsing a relic of a bygone era, a less hip version of those photos of modern Detroit ruins.

I had my tonsils out on Saturday. So i searched the internet and came across your site. May I say how you describe the experience amazingly?? You made me laugh, and then cry, because it hurt too much to laugh!!
– Jo

I thought I’d send you a postcard of the home town you escaped.
– Ross


I am at work on a saturday nite (UGH) but your very unique POV has made the last few minutes tres interesting
– Jermeny

No postings for a while, I hope that you are OK.
– Harry

Thanks for brief tour from a fat, balding, impotent, socially dysfunctional sexual pervert with a small willy who is afraid of women (and horses)! Have a safe one!
– Paul

I stumbled on your weblog just now and thought it’s the best thing I’ve read for ages.. I never get around to complimenting people on stuff like that, so today’s the day. nice one.
– Vanessa

I have trouble buying shoes too. It sucks.
– Cherie

Back then, I’d usually reply. Sometimes it would end at that, but other times it would turn into a bit of to-and-fro correspondence, and a few times I ended up meeting the person on the other end of the email, and occasionally friendships were formed.

And I’d do the same when I came across a webpage I enjoyed. I’d send off emails with slightly guilty admissions. “I stayed up all night looking at your photos of historic Minneapolis! Your website is great!”

On average, I received about two or three emails via my website a month. But now, I’d probably get that many emails in a year. And – curiously enough – the people who do email tend to be older. My inbox is instead filled with mailing lists and bacn – those emails you sign up for but never actually read.

So where is the website feedback today? Well, with my website now in WordPress, there is room for comments at the foot of every post. On the chur post, this has turned into a space for people to share their theories of the word’s origin. (It’s short for Christchurch! No, Howard Morrison invented it! No, it’s Jamaican! No, it’s…) On the Newton post, codgers share their memories of the pre-motorway suburb.

But there’s no specific space for general comments of the “Oh hey, I dig your blog.” variety.

Then there’s Facebook. I have a feed of my blog going to my Facebook profile, so there’s also the ability to comment there. But you know what mainly happens? Yeah, Like. Like, Like, Like, Like, Like and Like.

It’s so much easier to click Like than to actually write something. But that’s ok. Clicking Like can say, “I have read the thing you wrote, I appreciate it but I don’t really have anything else to add .” And I’d much rather get a Like than those empty cliches such as “Wow. Just wow.”, “This.” or “Genius”.

Facebook private messages are similar to email, but for someone who doesn’t know me, it’s not as easy to message me on Facebook as it is (was?) to send an email.

So I’m slightly reluctantly accepting that the days of magic email are over. Email has changed into a different thing from what it was 10 years ago. I miss the specialness of getting spontaneous email from either from friends or strangers, but I’m not about to form a “I miss email!!!!” Facebook group. Instead I put my trust in the awesomeness of people in general to keep the magic alive in other forms of online communication.

Not to be

Somehow I’m on the bFM mailing list and every week or so I get an email advertising various bFM promotions. I usually just read and delete, but it wasn’t until today’s email that I’ve decided to unsubscribe from the list.

It was reading this that did it:

The White Stripes show next Tuesday is almost sold out. But you can score tickets galore thanks to Vodafone.

All you have to do is dress up as one of the White Stripes in their trademark red and white colours and come up to bFM during Hugh’s Breakfast Show any day between now Tuesday. The 25 best dressed look-a-likes will win double passes to the show. Cripes.

Oh, bFM. You make it so hard to love you.


I saw “Roger Dodger”. Here’s what other people thought of it as they left the theatre:

The guy walking in front of me: “Like Tarantino used to do.”
The woman walking behind me: “Horrible. Really, really bad.”

It was neither. It was about a fellow whose nephew shows up and asks him to help him be a hit with the ladies. But while it was about the art (or science) of seduction, it’s also about ree-lay-shon-ships. This lady sitting a few seats down from me laughed a lot at stuff that wasn’t remotely funny. Like, there’d be a cut to a new scene and she’d laugh.

Tomorrow night I will have houseguests:

man, its going to be farken choice. you are farkrn choice for putting us up for the night. perhaps you are innocent and naive and have never hosted dodgy rock n roll musicians in your innocent unspotlt flat before? yes, that’ll be it. if thats the case, apologies in advance. but hey, you might get a nice article for your zine out of it.

Oh my!

st00 came over and we watched the Brit Awards. J. Timberlake sang a medley of songs then Kylie came out and they performed “Rapture” and Justin grabbed her arse and it was magnificent. st00 accused me of liking Robbie Williams, and I was going to get all defensive and be like “I DO NOT LIKE HIM!!!!”, but then I realised that actually if I was in his rockstar manor with cocaine and champagne all that shit, I wouldn’t be complaining. Well, something like that, anyway.

Pick a little

Lately I’ve been getting quite a few emails from people who think I can help them with various things. I think it has to do with my site ranking fairly highly in Google for words that just happen to be mentioned in stuff I’ve written. I got this one today:

To: Robyn Gallagher
Subject: Jackass tickets

I would really like tickets for the film.

Y’know, I would like Jackass tickets too, but I don’t have any, and if I did, I probably wouldn’t give them to strange boys off the internet. I’m guessing that this guy did a search for something like “Incredible Film Fest tickets” and ignored the top search result (the official bIFF web site) and instead went to my site and thought he’d hit me up for some tickets.

I politely pointed him in the right direction.

I saw “Bringing Down The House” (I bought a ticket, I didn’t email anyone asking for one). It was a really dumb movie, but I somehow moved into this lower state of consciousness where I laughed at all the really dumb jokes.

There was one scene where Steve Martin has Joan Plowright over for dinner with his two kids, and Queen Latifah cooks. Plowright reminisces her childhood on a plantation and starts singing an old Negro spiritual, while Queen Latifah storms around the kitchen barely containing her rage. It was so silly that I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. I think it’s mainly because for me the idea of a posh white person sincerely singing a Negro spiritual is one of the funniest things ever. It’s kind of what the story of the Fairfield Valley Community Players was based on.

Love and parrage

Today’s interesting email

To: Robyn Gallagher
From: [Interesting name that suggests English is a second language]
Subject: Fashion parrage

Dear Sir,
We would like to participat in fashion parrage. Kindly furnish us with the proceedor.


I’m still trying to figure out what it means, but I suspect that it may have something to do with the fact that one of my web pages is currently in the Google top ten search results for “fashion parade”.

I was hooning along the North Western motorway when I noticed something slightly different as I approached the city. The exit formerly known as Grafton is now called Port. I’ll miss the Grafton signs – it’s a much more interesting word than plain old Port – but the fact is that that motorway exit will very soon be extended all the way down to the port.

So of course I had to venture down there. It’s quite exciting. The motorway now goes down Stanley Street about as far as the Caltex. I noticed an interesting detail on an overbridge. Instead of having slabs of plain concrete cladding the supports of the overbridge, the concrete had stylised leaf patterns imprinted in it.

I like going for random drives, so new roads are always exciting.

Special times

First, an email exchange:

To: Robyn
From: Pat
Subject: hello

will you please email me a brochure of your chocolate rouses thanks.

To: Pat
From: Robyn
Subject: Re: hello

Whilst the caffeine and sugar in chocolate can be somewhat rousing, I’m afraid I don’t know what a chocolate rouse is.

Whether it’s a sexual term or a type of confectionary, or some bizarre concept that only exists on the internet, I don’t know, and I don’t have any brochures on the mysterious chocolate rouse to send you.

Good luck with your search for the elusive chocolate rouse.

From: Pat
To: Robyn
Subject: Re: hello


If I’d had the necessary software handling skillz, I would have got some pictures of some naked black women and put together a brochure advertising “Chocolate Rouses: These fine Nubian princesses will a-rouse you!”

I saw “Adaptation”. I was really excited about seeing it. Like, I woke up this morning and was like, “woohoo, It’s Thursday! “Adaptation” opens today! It reminded me of this thing I wrote about vanilla over a year ago. I’m going to have to dig it out and stick it up on my web site.

The film opens with Kaufman (Cage) doing this monologue about everything that’s wrong with his life and how it would be better, if only certain things would happen. I was like “OMG, that is totally me life.” Yes, my internal monologue sounds exactly like that.

“Adaptation” reminded me of “Mullholland Drive,” in that the last 20 minutes or so is quite different from the rest of the film, and it can be interpreted in different ways. But really, if you were going to go all out and write a formulaic Hollywood screenplay, where John Laroche and Susan Orlean become lovers, wouldn’t you write a sex scene in the swamp? Well, I would. Maybe that’s just me.

Hey, you know how people talk about the period of time in the late ’60s and the ’70s when the contraceptive pill had been invented, but before Aids happened, when people could just have condomless sex with anyone, and it was all marvellous, blah, blah, blah, pass the disco boots?

Well, what about the time when cigarettes became readily available, when they weren’t taxed to hell, when you could smoke in public buildings, and before people had figured out that cigarettes were physically addictive and could cause cancer and heart disease? Oh yes, that would have been a very special time.


Back when the internet was free, I had an account with that I used for posting stuff when I was at work. It lasted from November 1999 to August 2000, and then I forgot about it. I recently rediscovered the site, but it’s now inaccessable due to it not being free. I was, however, able to salvage all the entries I made.

Angry BBQ

Walking back to work from lunch I saw some fellows unloading boxes of corn chips from a truck. One of the boxes was of “TANGY BBQ” flavoured corn chips. The “T” was obscured and without my glasses on I read it as “ANGRY BBQ”.

Now there’s a concept. An angry barbecue. Angry!

“I’m bloody sick of this. I just sit out here on the deck all winter long and no one gives a stuff about me. Then along comes summer and everyone firing me up and sticking their meat on me.

“I’ll tell you what pisses me off. Back in the day, people would cook meat on me. Steak, sausages, chops. There’d be the occasional egg, mushrooms, tomatoes, onions – I didn’t mind that. Sometimes people would warm up buns on me, that was ok. But then things started to change.

“Someone would put a shish kebab on. Now that’s normal, but one day the shish kebab had no meat on it. It was a vegetarian shish kebab. Then came the vegetarian sausages. All those bloody herbs. Then along comes some bloody hippy and tries to grill some marinated tofu. The bloody stuff broke apart and fell down the grill onto the flame and burned.

“Who the hell tries to cook bloody tofu on a barbecue? It’s just getting ridiculous. I’m going to be taking this up at the barbecues union. I’ve had enough. I’m angry.”

Captain Freeze

From Wired News, 15 November 1999

“A scientist reveals that freezing weather contributed to the demise of British Navy Captain Robert Falcon Scott and his doomed party in their 1912 race to the South Pole.”

I am still trying to work out why this is news.

Social Intercourse

When I was about 15 my parents told me that they were concerned that I wasn’t socialising enough. That I needed to be engaging in, and this is a direct quote, “social intercourse”.

I think they thought I was being invited to participate in thousands of groovy teenage parties and social events but was declining to participate in them because I much preferred sitting at home watching TV every night.

In actuality all my friends back then were boring Christians (I was a closet athiest back then) and did not do groovy teenage things. They instead went to Christian youth groups and played games with jelly and ice cream and listened to talks on how waiting until you’re married before having sex is the right thing to do.

But as fate would have it, as soon as I left school and stopped hanging around with the Christians, I got a social life!

The one thing school, your parents or Christian youth groups don’t teach you is how to get farmers who are in town for the Fieldays to buy you drinks and how to leave the bar without them seeing you, then heading on to the next one to pull the scam again.

Beauty Salons

A tanning and manicure salon had a blackboard with a wooden bar across the middle of it given the words written on it an unfortunate break:




Another beauty salon I saw offered “non-surgical facelifts”. I’d like to see a beauty salon that offers surgical facelifts.

“I, my name is Dr Emma and I will be your surgeon today – wow, that’s really cool nail polish you’ve got on…”

Social Smokers

Social smokers suck. If you’re going to smoke, you should be a full-on smoker. None of this “I only smoke when I go to a bar” crap.

If you’re going to smoke you should experience the full smoker’s lifestyle. Having a fag out the back at work. All the smokers outside on the deck at parties. Midnight excursions to a petrol station when you’ve run out, or considering smoking old butts. Mild paranoia about if you smell like stale smoke yet. Having to wash your clothes more often. Not being able to leave the house without checking you’ve got your smokes.

Social smokers are people who don’t want to put up with all that, and instead just smoke because they think it makes them look cool. It doesn’t. Instead it makes them look like those 12 year olds who hang outside McDonald’s on Queen Street on a Saturday night.

Villi Manilli

From a Milli Vanilli fan page:

“Pilatus and Morvan were unhappy they hadn’t been included on Playgirl’s list of sexiest rockers. “The guy from Living Colour was on it, and Young M.C. was on it,” Headlee says. “Rob and Fab felt that they were certainly as sexy as both of them.””


In my first year of school, way back in 1980, my school was provided with a powered substance called Perkup.

Perkup was a chocolate energy drink. It came in a powder form and teachers would make it up by adding hot water to it. It was not unlike Milo or Bournvita, but I shall first explain something.

With every product there’s usually the dominant player (e.g. Coke) and the second runner up (Pepsi) and all the little runners up (BudgetCola).

Perkup was not even a runner up to Milo or Bournvita.

It was disgusting.

I don’t know what it was made of, but the dairy factory down the road gave it to the school free, probably because no one would buy it.

So in the winter of 1980 I’d take a mug to school and get this horrible Perkup stuff. Then one day I noticed that there were other people not drinking it and I realised that I didn’t have to drink it either. It was like I was liberated. No more gross Perkup!

I anxiously await the upcoming 20th anniversay of living a Perkup-free life.

Cigarettes and the Ugly Ho

There’s the big thing that smoking has a glamourous image and the smokefreedepartmentofhealth is worried that young teens will want to smoke because they think it will make them look cool.

I feel that it is neccessary to issue a warning: Smoking will not neccessarily make you look cool. In fact, it might even make you look like an ugly ho.

No one wants to look like an ugly ho.

Just as there are different types of alcohol drinkers – from a cool, smooth cocktail drinker, to a homeless guy in a park with a bottle of cheap crap – there are also different types of smokers.

The ugly, wrinkled hags with big yellow hair who sit at the front of the cafe down the road are not cool smokers. They should not legally be permitted to smoke.

Ditto for people who buy cigarettes before they buy their children shoes. Although that may be a cliche, those smokers should still not be allowed to smoke.

If you can not smoke with the neccesary level of style and cool that is required for a smoker to not be a smelly, ugly ho, then you should not smoke.

I appeal to the new Labour government to ensure that this becomes legislation.


In the Weekend Herald (11-12 December 1999) it was reported that of the new Labour cabinet, only two people, Jim Anderton and Dover Samuels, were sworn in on the bible, and ended their vows with “so help me, God.”

By jimminy crikey, what a godless country we live in today!

But having said that, it’s bloody excellent to have a rastaman in Parliament.

Stan in space

Stanley Kubrick’s not dead. He’s living in space aboard his only personal space vessel (and you thought that was a movie set they used in 2001).

Here’s a snippet of conversation between Stanley and his HAL 9000 Editing Suite during the final edit of “Eyes Wide Shut.

Stanley: “I think we are seeing too much of Tom’s butt in this shot. Shorten this shot to 4.5 seconds, please HAL.”
HAL: “I’m sorry, Stanley. I can’t do that.”
Stanley: “What? Why not, HAL?”
HAL: “Because I have been programmed to enjoy tasty booty.”
[Stanley crawls into HAL’s higher memory and starts to unplug it]
HAL: “I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Sir Mix-A-Lot, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it I can sing it for you.”
Stanley: “Yes, I’d like to hear it, HAL. Sing it for me.”
HAL: “I like big butts, and I can not lie! The other bro-thers… can’t…. de-ny…. when… a….. girl…. walks…….. in…….. with…………”

Tequila and Bananas

I was reading a magazine for hip, sassy, post-riot grrrls young women. There was an interview with Janeane Garofalo and just to show how hip and alternative and unlike regular magazine’s for young women they were, Ms Garofalo was asked to share the secret of her weight loss.

She said she ate lots of bananas and whenever she felt really hungry she’d do a shot of tequila or vodka.

Obviously this is a very silly way to attempt to lose weight. You know this, I know this, but I have this idea that somewhere out there there’ll be some 19 year old girl who thinks she’s fat and will go on a diet of bananas and tequila in an attempt to lose weight.


The building I work in appears to have been built in the 1980s. At the moment it’s at the stage that happens to most buildings about 10-20 years after they are built where they seem really ugly and out of date, but if you can ride out that period (which can last 50 years or even more) you end up with a cool old building.

But I digress. The perception is that in the pre-’87 crash era there were a lot of really cheap-arse office buildings built. I lumped this building into that category until today.

One of the lifts was being inspected and the doors were open but the lift was at basement level. Looking into the liftshaft, I was amused to see that the wall of the shaft had had all the gaps and nail dents plastered over. There’s no reason I can think of for this to happen, but someone did.

This building isn’t particularly spectacular, but it is ok-looking and there are pretty cool views from where I sit.

I wonder what was pulled down to make room for it?

Welcome to the future

Saturday January 8, 2000 was turning point in the history of the New Zealand Herald. For it was on that day that the front page of the Herald contained the words “gangsta” and “arse”.


One of the coolest things to do is to sing “Row row row your boat” in rounds. Just the way the two parts fit together and produce that nice harmony is a lovely thing.

Life is butter dream.

Talk shows

There’s a TV at work which usually gets turned on around 12.30 when people start having their lunch breaks. There are many channels to choose from, including CNN and Discovery. But it usually ends up on TV4, which shows Oprah at 12.00 then Sally Jessy Raphael.

In short, Oprah is about things like self-improvement. She gets all these experts on her show and they give advice to help people become better mentally, physically, and spiritually. Y’know.

Sally is more of a freak-show type of talk show. Lots of transvestites, prostitutes, people who are sleeping with other people’s loved ones but don’t know it yet, and other stuff that is there for pure entertainment value.

Whenever Oprah’s on, everyone makes comments about how soppy and corny it is, and about how all the deperate housewives treat Oprah like a gogdess, etc. Sometimes Oprah gets switched off when enough people are disgusted by the fact that – oh my god – people might actually gain something positive from it!

Then Sally comes on. Initially there’ll be comments about how terrible and bad it is, but no one ever turns it off. This is usually because they are mesmerised by the sight of guy who was bullied in high school who is now a highly successful drag artiste and has come on the show to lipsynch to “I will survive” in front of his former bully.

Everyone watches it, and makes comments about how incredibly bad they think it is, but no one ever turns it off.

Baby carrots

I’m eating some baby carrots and I have an overwealming urge to stick one up my nose.

I dunno. It just seems like it would be a nice thing to do.


Marriage is a patriachal institution used by men to oppress women by turning them into property. Apparently.

But I have decided that it would be cool to be married for this reason:

If you were in a bar and some loser guy was hitting on you, instead of trying to be tactful to get him to go away, you could say “Excuse me, but I am a happily married woman!”


I was at one of Auckland’s leading tourist attractions and was perusing the goods on offer at the gift shop. I noticed a group of those Tibetan Buddhist monk guys – y’know, the bald dudes with bright orange robes.

They were huddled over a bin filled with little plastic things, like fish, bouncy balls, keyrings, etc.

It just struck me as a very unholy thing to do. I mean, you wouldn’t see Christian monks going “Oh look, Brother David, a little spinning earth key ring! Isn’t it choice.”

But maybe somehow Buddhist monks get to be allowed to play with cheap plastic toys.

Hello Dumb-Arse

Over the past couple o’ months I’ve seen posters (A4 photocopied – the uberposter) for a couple of local bands. One is called Hello Kitty and the other is called Bad Badtz Maru.

For those of you who are not au fait with Japanese cartoons, both Hello kitty and Bad Badtz-Maru are two cartoon characters. Kitty is a cute little cat, while Badtz-Maru is a mischevous little penguin.

Both characters are copyright to Sanrio, a huge Japanese company which has a booming empire based on these cute cartoon characters.

So back to these two bands, they people who came up with the names would probably be smart enough to not call them “Mickey Mouse” or “Donald Duck”, but don’t seem to be able to make the same distinction with other cartoon characters.

But really, why would you want to name your band after something that had its own subculture? It’s not very punk.

dot com

Know what the com in .com stands for?

Corporate Opression, Man.

Remember that. It’s the same old bullshit, just packaged differently.

Post No Bills

I used to think that “post no bills” meant the same as “mail no invoices”.

Suffice to say, the quality of my life has improved since I figured out it means the same as “paste no posters”.

But it seemed really punk to think that someone had gone around stencilling something meaning “mail no invoices” on blank walls.


Y’know how some people claim to be carnivores? What they really mean by that is that, among other things, they eat great wacking hunks of red meat.

A real carnivore eats meat and meat only. For a human to be a pure carnivore would be about as freaky as people who are vegans.

Like just say you were a carnivore and went to McDonalds with your mates. While they would all be eating burgers and chips, all a carnivore could eat would be meat patties. Ever tried eating a McDonald’s meat patty on its own? They are rather boring.

What about ordering a pizza? “Hi, I’d like a meat lovers pizza, hold the cheese, hold the sauce, hold the base. Yes, that’s right. I don’t want the base.”

The diet of a carnivore would be so boring. There would be no herbs and spices because they are plants-derived. Just meat. Beef! Lamb! Chicken! Pork! Beef! Lamb! Chicken! Pork!

There’s probably a really good reason why humans aren’t naturally inclined to being carnivores. It would be really boring.

So what are humans? Most are omnivores – they eat both animal and plant food. People who eat only plants are herbivores, which is about the same as a vegan.

Wonder Woman

When I was 5 the boys at my school used to chant:

Girls are weak!
Throw them in the creek!
Boys are strong!
Like King Kong!

Then me and the girls would chant back:

Boys are weak!
Throw them in the creek!
Girls are strong!
Like Wonder Woman!

Ok, the girls’ version didn’t rhyme, but it did include words of more than one syllable.

Wonder Woman ruled. She was so much cooler than Smurfette or the Pink Power Ranger. With her invisible plane, lasso of truth and hotpants of justice, she fought for our rights.

Chocolate animals

Kid 1: Hey, what cha doin’?
Kid 2: Eating chocolate animals.
Kid 1: Chocolate animals?!
Kid 2: In a Nestle’s Animal Bar. There are five different animals in every Animal Bar. Sixteen different animals in all!
Kid 1: I’m wild about chocolate!
Kid 2: Me too!
Kid 1: I think I’ll eat a lion
Lion: Roaaar!
Kid 1: Uh-oh!

Invasion of the Giant Slug-People!

On the way to work on Monday 15 May, I passed a lunch bar and saw the broadsheet advertising that day’s Herald outside the shop. Imagine the shock, horror and terror I felt when I read,


It immediately filled my heart with fear! The slug people were invading! It was like a b-grade 1950s science fiction film.

A tanker filled with a radioactive substance runs aground causing the spilling of its tanks into the ocean. “Don’t worry,” men in lab coats say, “it’s perfectly harmless!”.

Then a few months later a young couple are at the beach. The pretty blonde girl is sun bathing while her handsome boyfriend is fooling around in the water. “Oh, stop it, Dan! You’re splashing me!” Dan ventures out a little further and waves to Sally. She waves back and smiles, but her face soon turns to a mask of terror when she sees Dan being sucked under the water.

A large dark shape can be seen under the water, slowly moving towards the land. Sally, paralysed with fear, watches as a giant slug slowly emerges from the water. It’s two meters tall, seven meters long and as it gets closer it opens its slimy mouth and makes a high-pitched growly screaming noise. The bloody head of her boyfriend in the slugs mouth is the last thing Sally ever sees…

Then it’s up to an ordinary fellow to save the planet from the Giant Slugs. He will have a number of hurdles to overcome, such as a mad scientist who wants to turn the slugs into his personal warriors, the army who are convince that the only way to kill the slugs is to nuke the ocean, and that pesky, yet attractive reporter who keeps geting in the way.

So you can imagine my disappointment when I read the article (hidden away at the bottom of page 3) and discovered that these “giant” sea slugs were not only harmless, but were only as big as a hand, if that.

The next day’s Herald showed a picture of a man with a number of these so-called giant slugs in his hand. They weren’t even as big as his fingers.

People get all worked up when newspapers publish the names of cops who have killed people, but no one bats an eyelid when such unethical stuff gets written. Giant slugs indeed.


I’ve noticed a couple of articles in the paper regarding the recent cold weather. They’ve sought the opinion of experts and asked them “Is there some sort of cold snap going on?” and the experts have replied with “No, the cold weather is caused by a meteorological phenomena called “winter”.”

Get hard.

Psychoactive drug

“People often see coffee, tea and soft drinks simply as beverages rather than vehicles for a psychoactive drug. But caffeine can exacerbate anxiety and panic disorders.”

Roland Griffiths, Ph.D.

A professor in the departments of psychiatry and neuroscience at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine.

(From an article on

Youth Venue

From an article in the New Zealand Herald, 11 July 2000.

A Hard Rock cafe had been planned for the America’s Cup Village, described in the article as potentially “a big coup and huge drawcard for young people.” Then the Chief Executive changed and plans for the Hard Rock cafe were scrapped.

“In its place, ACVL spent about $700,000 setting up a 1980s-style nightclub – thin corrugated iron, polystyrene skyline cutouts, rock’n’roll cover bands, and nothing like the DJ-based electronic music that attracts young inner-city crowds.”

Fabulous Investment Opportunity

Hi Selwyn!!!!

I thought I would pass this fabulous opportunity onto you!!! When I first read it I thought “It can’t be true!!!” but I sent off $100,000 just as a test and was amazed when I received back an already scratched investment bond with “SORRY YOU DID NOT WIN. PLEASE PLAY AGAIN” and some caked-on tomato sauce!!!! I’m saving up and have put my elderly mother out on the street so I can share in this incredible wealth!!! You should too!!!!

Brownwyn Callenger


Hello Kind Gentle-Man

May I introduce myself to you? My name is Prince Franco Mutubukha Ramdla from the Kingdom of Nigeria. I am writing to you as I need the help of a kind sir.

You may have heard of the recent troubles in Nigeria; the civil war, the military coup. Before the troubles I was a wealthy man who lived the good life. For example, for breakfast I would eat scrambled eggs off the bosoms of virgins. But when the troubles started I was forced to sell all my possessions and put all my wealth into the investment bonds known as “scratchie tickets”. These stratchie tickets have been stored deep down in a concrete bunker, away from the troubles.

To retrieve these tickets and to reclaim my fortune, I need to do the following things:

1. Hire a bulldozer.

2. Dig up the dirt covering the concrete bunker.

3. Find the box with the investment scratchies.

4. Take the box away to the Lagos Sheraton and open it in the presence of my lawyers who will be wearing the costume of harem girls.

5. Employ a number of young ladies to scratch the metallic film on the investment bonds to see if I have won fabulous prizes of 2, 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, 1000, or 10,000 Naira (the national currency of this fine country).

6. Share the total amount of wealth acquired with all those who have helped me in my quest.

7. Enjoy an extravagant feast eaten off the bosom of virgins, including bacon, eggs, hash browns and sausages with lashing of tomato ketchup and a glass of soya milk to aid digestion.

However, to do this I will require capital. I do not have capital, so I am calling upon you, kind sir, to assist me with this. All I am asking for is US$2,000,000. I am sure for a gentle-man such as yourself this is a paltry sum. When I have successfully retrieved my investment bonds, I will, of course, share the amount acquired with you. I assure you that the amount received will more than make up for the initial investment.

I look forward to receiving your prompt affirmative reply.

Yours sincerely

Prince Franco Mutubukha Ramdla

Breakdance 3: The Drunk Rugby Player

From the New Zealand Herald, 24 July 2000.

“He said that he saw Umaga being hailed by a group of young break-dancers connected to a Christian group.

“”The kids were yelling out, ‘Hey, Tana,’ and trying to shake his hand. He turned around and told them to ‘f’ off and asked them if they wanted a fight and got really abusive.

“”Then the kids got scared and ran back to the adult with them.””

Surely ideal material for a scene from a potential sequel to “Breakdance 2: Electric Boogaloo”

Gender stereotypes and the single girl

“Hey, I need someone to help the man move the photocopier. Is there a guy who can help?”

I thought that sort of thing finished at intermediate school when a bunch of us girls were able to help the teachers move some platforms after she’d requested some “strong boys” to help.

But no, the girls are weak, throw them in the creek mentality still exists around the office. The irony being that one of the girls around here is a rugby player who is probably a lot stronger than many of the slack-arse geek boys.

Criminal Investigation

“Police plan to use the Internet in the hunt for whoever took the Goldie painting from the Auckland War Memorial Museum.”

– New Zealand Herald, 4 August 2000.

I was determined to do my part as an Internet-savvy citizen to assist the police in their investigations, so off I headed to Ask Jeeves, the question-based search engine, where I asked:

“Where can I find the stolen Goldie painting?”

The ever-so-helpful Jeeves informed me that he had found answers to the following questions:

How can I learn to paint?

How do I decrease the colors in a picture with a Paint program?

Where can I see the works of the artist Abraham van Beyeren – Ernst Ludwig Kirchner?

Where can I see pictures of the musician or band Goldie?

Where can I learn about Home Improvement fraud?

At first I was going to dismiss the search results as a bunch of irrelevant arse, but thinking back to the adventures of Batman and the Riddler, I am certain that those questions are tricky riddles, the answers of which will lead us right to the secret underground lair of the thieves!


From an article in the New Zealand Herald, 28 August, 2000, about how New Zealand women’s breasts were getting bigger.

“Bendon brand manager Catriona Stewart said lingerie stores were being flooded by teenagers with very large busts.”

More tea, Vicar?


The new email program I’m using has such excellent spam filtering that hardly any spam gets through. I was taking a look through my folder of filtered spam and I realised how little of it is actually relevant to me. Maybe if I were an overweight American man suffering from sexual dysfunction, but with a liking for farm girls, and who had major financial problems and a desire to work from home, maybe then it’d be more interesting to read.

Badly written (Why use one full-stop when using three just has that much more impact?), yet enthusiastic emails show up trying to get me really excited about various fabulous opportunities. But they all get it so, so wrong.

Are you drowning in too much high interest monthly debt?

No, as it happens I’m not. Like that Bros song, “I owe you nothing, oo-er, nothing at all.”

Would you like to lose weight while you sleep!
Sexual Potency 75% improvement.
Emotional Stability 67% improvement.

Losing weight while you sleep is no big claim, but to be 75% more sexually potent and 67% more emotionally stable is pretty impressive. It’s like if you took advantage of this spam you’d be able to engage in a cracker of a one night stand and not get all obsessive the next day.

Mortgage companies make you wait…
They Demand to Interview you…
They Intimidate you…
They Humiliate you…

We Turn the Tables on Them…
Now, You’re In Charge

Cool, so does this mean that I get to interview, intimidate and humiliate mortgage companies? Not that anyone would loan me money, but it’s a nice thought anyway.


No! No! No!

Dear Windows User

Ha ha, suckers. I use a Mac.

200% return could have been achieved in less than 30 days!

Example: A $5,000 Investment in the Euro vs the dollar, “properly positioned”, on 7/17/01 could possibly have returned $12,500 on 08/10/01.

Y’know, that actually works out to be an increase of only 150%.

Must be 21 years of age.

Dammit, I’m 27.

What do you Really Know about your Employee?
What do you Really Know about your Lover?
What do you Really Know about your Baby Sitter?
What do you Really Know about your Business Associate?

I know my employee isn’t showing up to work, which is good because it means I don’t have to pay him/her. My lover is never around and I don’t even know his name. My baby sitter never seems to show up when I want to go out. Actually, the baby never seems to be around either. As for my business associate, when was the last time I saw him?

Want to join our free sex party? Your Neighbour, Your Girlfriend, Your Boss! They’re all on.

Free sex party! Woohoo, oh but look who’s going to be there. I’ll finally get to meet that old lady who lives next door, I can meet this girlfriend person, and I can ask my boss what company it is that I work for and why I’m not getting paid.


Turn back your body’s Biological Time Clock 10 – 20 years.

Twenty years ago I was seven and I don’t think I’d want to feel like a seven-year-old. Ten years ago I was 17 and arse to going through my final year of high school again.

Many Americans only get to see their loved ones and friends two or three times a year.

How would you like to see them daily for a fraction of the cost of phoning them?

What? They are giving me the opportunity to see the friends and loved ones of Americans on a daily basis? “Hey, it’s Tony and Sharon! Hi guys! Good to see you again. Ok, bye.”

If you are not the manager at your restaurant, please ignore this message.


Is your spouse cheating online? Are your kids talking to dangerous people on instant messenger?

Statistically speaking, I am more likely to be the person your spouse cheats with online or that dangerous instant messaging stranger.

I am a financially independent wealth-builder, who finds great pleasure in mentoring.

Kill the Rat! Get out of the Rat Race!

This one is a bit disturbing. The metaphor of the rat race is that you are one of the rats. To kill the rat is to kill yourself. But perhaps this wealth-builder will show you how to do it metaphorically.

Hot Girls And Wild Horses!

God bless the internet.

This message has been sent to you as a subscriber of the “Gambler’s Update Report”

There are periods of time I can’t account for where I seem to be subscribing to all these mailing lists. I can’t think why I joined this one; I don’t gamble often. Perhaps I was planning to build some wealth then gamble it away?

As a rule, I delete all unsolicited “junk” e-mail and use my account primarily for business. I received what I assumed was this same e-mail countless times and deleted it each time.

Hey, same here. Except for the business part.

CORRECTIONAL FACILITIES – PRISON MINISTRIES – Since you will be a Certified Minister, you can visit others in need. Preach the Word of God to those who have strayed from the flock, who are ready to CHANGE their lives – You can play a major part in that decision!

I like this idea – becoming a minister on the internet, then getting to visit prisons and try and lead the incarcerated back to the path of righteousness. Hallelujah!

European style fat removal system has helped thousands to look and feel better!

Ivan and Sven will come and haul all your fat away.

A practical, low cost, safe alternative that is COMPLETELY NATURAL – Certified Natural Bust Capsules!

Oh man, that’s one thing I so don’t need. Although, if they really worked you could spike some guy’s drink and have manbreasts a go-go.


Shroo hoo hoo!

So power-smokin potent is our new formulation, that much to our delight and actually even to our amazement, we have even be able to establish a very happy clientele within the hard core stoner market.

Of all the claims made by various spams, I think this one is the most impressive. They managed to crack the hard core stoner market! Do you realise how hard this is to do? Good on them!