Whoa, what a week!


There was one particular part of my week that changed; my computer that I primarily use for internet purposes. Yeah, it would seem that a ‘goodbye’ would be in order.

I have four computers at my house. One is quite old – I procured it back in 2008, and it still uses an old version of XP and has a very slow operating system. Now, this particular relic is located in the garage of all places, not because it belongs there, which I guess it kind of does, but predominately because it is still useable. My personal gym is located in the garage, and Windows Media Player is still fully functional on this computer, and that, along with the pretty awesome subwoofer’s I have attached to the computer make for some pretty good music playing capabilities. True, it ain’t as good as the surround sound stereo I have in the rumpus room where you can play music in one country and hear it clearly in another, but it still works all the same. No point in throwing out something that can still sufficiently do for you what you want it to – my view anyway.

The second computer is from 2009, and at the time, believe it or not, was the fastest system one could acquire. This computer can no longer play video games of today, which was probably blatantly obvious by the year this thing was produced. It is incredibly slow and half the time fails to do what you want it to. The internet is now out of date and the computer still utilises on XP system, so I cannot update it to Windows Explorer Nine cuz I don’t have Windows Seven. I can’t be bothered putting what is basically still a relatively new system onto an old computer just so that I can use the internet. This leads me to my laptop – a fine piece of machinery that I acquired at the conclusion of 2010, which has had some issues in regards to the internet in the past, but should now be hopefully working fine.

My other computer is one that I acquired at the start of 2011 which still is at the top of its game. Don’t ask me for the specs – never ask me for the specs. I have no idea what the monster has inside of her; all I know is that to this very day she is capable of giving the computer’s today a run for their money with the system that she runs with, being able to still play the games that come out with peek performance. The system is the kind that the gals and blokes over at MLN use, or used to at least since they are always up on the newest kind of tech to support their gamers. The computer uses a pretty massive if I must say so myself HD 3D TV as its monitor. The issue with this, and believe me, there is an issue, even with a gorgeous thing like this – is that everyone else wants to use it. I always wanted a giant monitor and a kick ass gaming system, and have separate PS3 and XBOX 360 consoles attached to this particular area of the house, so no matter what platform the game is on, I can play it and throw massive LAN parties there as well. That is the problem – I always wanted a giant system, and I not only got the system, but all of the crazies that come with it, my friends on frequent occasion coming over and having the time of their lives. Bunch of bums really – dunno why they can’t buy their own systems, then they wouldn’t have to not only keep me from using my computer but wouldn’t eat me outta house and home in the process.

So, with this said, the system I predominately use for the internet is the one bought back in 2009 – or was at least until every single social media site I am on, from Word Press to Facebook, et al, began to malfunction and not work as well as they used to cuz I did not have Windows Internet Explorer 9. So, the reason I have not commented on many of your pages, or liked many of your pages or even visited many of your pages over the past couple of days is not because I am a bad guy, well, maybe that, but the primary reason is because of my crappy internet connection. So I had to update my laptop and give that the internet, and the security that came with it, and the billions upon billions of downloads that it wanted from the (almost) two years I have had it to ensure it was up to friggin’ date before I could begin to use the internet (finally) to go back to my life on social media.

It’s funny – this time two years ago I had not a thing to do with social media. Okay, I had a Facebook page that I frequented about once every blue moon, but I had no connection to any other social media page and I quite enjoyed my life back then. Now, I have changed so dramatically, and am connected to a cool few sites, and I do not know how I would live my life today without some social media every now and then and all of the pretty awesome perks that come with it. I mean, reading the kinda stuff that you guys make – classic! Can’t find that anywhere else, and I thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for all the entertainment, comments, likes, follows and what have you that you have provided to me over the past few months.

Thanks guys!

So now that I have the internet working, again (!), hopefully I will be able to get my life back on track.

Thank you for reading!

Naughty Nefarious, signing off!

Triangle of love? No mate, it’s the Bermuda Triangle baby!


I never truly knew the dire repercussions of a love triangle until very recently. I knew of them, don’t get me wrong, but my first hand experience of such matters was negligible. I had never known anyone to be involved in such a consequential matter, and I myself had never actually endured such agony. Perhaps ‘agony’ is too strong a word, but I do believe such terminology is applicable in this instance for in the end, there will be pain, and no doubt it will be I who is suffering it.

Anyone who is familiar with some of my previous posts will know that I indeed do have feelings for a certain someone; a young woman who I had plans of confessing my feelings to this week. Now, before I continue let me state that I am not intentionally creating the illusion of a love triangle in order not to tell this young woman the way I feel about her. I had every intention of doing so – and note the use of the past tense there too.

That was of course up until two weeks ago. It was at that unscheduled time that I happened to come across another woman, who was just as beautiful, if not even more so, who stole my little heart away. Now, you may read this and think ‘you bastard! I can tell now why you use the pseudonym ‘naught nefarious’!’, but allow me to assure you that the physicality of a woman’s beauty is never the first thing to attract me to them if I am legitimately infatuated with said individual.

In the case of my initial crush in this instance, it was the commitment she applied to her work and how she would endeavor to do her absolute best when accomplishing whatever it was she was working on. Second, her intellect – she was incredibly smart and very sophisticated at creating well coherent sentences that were a pleasure to listen to and thirdly, had a great personality.

Now, the new woman who happened to come waltzing into my life? What was it that attracted me to her? It was none other than her writing style. If anything, I would have to say that she is quite possibly the best writer I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Her work was flawless, well edited and perfectly presented. She could write poetically, plainly, sexually and entertainingly all in the one sentence and have you eating out from the palm of her hand at but the very vision of the first word written at the beginning of her paragraph.

Now, unlike my initial crush, I am yet to meet this new woman. I have known my initial crush for going on two years and only late last year came to the realisation that I perhaps had feelings for her. I only just came to the conclusion that I liked this new woman two weeks ago. However, although we are yet to meet, I can tell from her writing that she is incredibly intelligent and would be a pleasure to communicate with.

Moving on, I have never actually been attracted to two women at the same time. For me, it used to be that I had feelings for one woman, and one woman only, and the only way I could sufficiently move on with my life after gaining such feelings was to do one of two things; either A) have a relationship with this woman, or B) discover beyond a reasonable doubt that no relationship could ever happen.

With this said, I have officially entered quite an awkward, alien situation I fear, and am having great difficulty deciding which path to choose. Of course, by ‘path’, I mean which avenue to take, and by which ‘avenue’ I mean, – oh, hell, quit the vague references – what I mean is, that I need to choose which woman I wish to dedicate my time to discovering if a relationship could work with.

Perhaps this is blatantly cold? I really don’t know – what I can tell you, is that although neither woman knows of the other’s existence, I feel as though I am cheating on both women with the other just by having the exact same feelings for them both.

Of course, funnily enough, the woman I have known for two years does not even realise that I like her, and the woman I have only known for two weeks knows full well that I have a thing for her. I do not know that by confessing feelings to one woman means I have already, without my own knowledge of it, chosen the woman that I would prefer to continue a plausible relationship with?

Of course, allow me to say one more thing on the subject – the woman I was attracted towards first is, like me, an Australian, and is at present living in the same city as I. Makes it easy to be with her. The new woman – she’s an American, and lives on the other side of the friggin’ globe! Such would make having a relationship with her more difficult. But perhaps that is why I found it easier to tell her how I feel, and easier to communicate with, because deep down I realise no relationship of any sort could ever be sparked, for it is always easier to tell those who you do not know how you feel. This here may be part of the same circumstance.

So, as previously mentioned I have myself a small situation that I cannot escape from. I need to choose which woman I wish to have a relationship with, and I fear perhaps inevitably make the wrong decision in the process. Of course, when I do make my decision, I will not be able to take it back, so I need to make, with absolute certainty, the right one.

Who would have known that love could be so difficult? I’m only twenty something! Can’t life just gimmie a break?

(Heavy sigh) I honestly am not sure what I am going to do. To be honest with you, I don’t even know why I’m writing this post – to relieve myself of the over burdening hold on my heart? I do not know.

Well, here’s hoping everything works out. Thank you for reading,

Naughty Nefarious, signing off

Talk is Cheap, but Silence is Golden


Why must we talk at breakfast, lunch and dinner with our families?

Who stated this had to happen?

Where did it all start?

Who can we blame?

Well, no offence, but this is the American’s doing. Yep, Americans and their drama serials, soaps and sitcoms, where the happy, stereotypical American family is portrayed as sitting around the dinner table and communicating to one another about their day.

Now, before you start sending in your hate mail allow me to state that the Americans have done a lot for us over the years. However, I do not think sitting around the table and talking to your family about your day and incorporating this ideology into a TV show and basically telling the entire world ‘you are not a good family if you don’t do this’ would be one of the many good things they have done for the world. No, not at all. In my view, it is a very, very bad thing.

Now, I will admit that at the moment not having a partner to share my life with can perhaps be a bit lonely. I wake up alone. I go to bed alone. I go to work alone. I go to university alone. I have breakfast for one, lunch for one, dinner for one and wine for seven.

I’m joking about that last part…or am I?

But at the end of the day the benefit (if you could call this a benefit) is that I don’t need to talk to anyone and I can enjoy a blissful silence with myself and my food. The day my food starts talking to me is not only a day I can officially wait for, but the day I send myself to a nice little place with rubber rooms and men in white suits.

When I ever eat with my family, it’s a completely different story. All three meals of the day if I happen to be present for them go something like this. ‘Chew, bla, bla, bla, chew, bla, bla, bla, chew, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, chew’, and it just gradually gets worse from there.

As you can probably tell by now, I’m not exactly known for my socialising skills, especially when they happen to involve a dinner table. The issue I have, and I don’t know if anyone else has this problem, is that I like to taste my food. I like to enjoy my food. I like to be satisfied with my food. And I cannot eat, nor enjoy, nor be satisfied with my food when I am engaged in a conversation.

Maybe I’m a few tiles short of a roof, but I can’t seem to concentrate on doing two things at once when I am engaged in filling my body with the necessary requirements to keep me self alive for an extra few hours.

I guess anyone reading this might be looking for a point or a punch line to this whole post…I just don’t see the point why we as a species have been taught that we simply must fill our eating experiences with dialogue.

In documentary’s, I am yet to see one where two lions are gorging down the carcass of a zebra and one lion turns the other and says ‘so honey, how was your day?’ Of course, to the human ears it might sound a bit more like ‘roar, grrr, arr, roar, roar, meow’, but still, they don’t do that either.

Now, I am not saying that everyone should just shut up and eat. I can allow for some minor conversation. But I don’t see why the beginning, the middle and the end of the dinner and everything in-between must be flooded with continued conversation.

Can we not allow for a bit of silence? A bit like what Uma Thurman insinuated to John Travolta in Pulp Fiction – you know when you have found the perfect person to spend your life with when you can simply sit back and enjoy an uncomfortable silence with them.

So why that ideology cannot be spread by American television rather than this talk at the table every morning, noon and night garbage is beyond me.

If anyone reads this wishes to make a comment and say whether they like conversing a lot at dinner or believe that a little bit of silence every once in a while is golden, I would be quite appreciative to know what the people of the world think.

Thank you for reading,

Naughty Nefarious, signing off!

Global Warming? How do you spell that again? C-L-I-M-A-T-E C-H-A…


This piece contains some coarse language.

For anyone living in Australia, you would now know one hundred per cent how it feels to be afflicted with the ‘carbon tax’ (queue the spooky music…du, du, du, du!). For any readers who are not Australian and just read my last sentence and thought ‘eh?’ do not be alarmed! Allow me to quickly explain what the carbon tax is…

The carbon tax is a form of tax orchestrated by the Australian Labor Party and the Greens which has been a work in progress for roughly the past couple years and has only now come to fruition. It is also a tax that was supposed to never occur, but funnily enough the politician who made such a bold statement seemed to forget she made that promise…immediately after becoming Prime Minister…

The Carbon Tax is generated to supposedly bring down carbon emissions of larger companies and to basically teach the wider Australian community that carbon ix bad, and less carbon is good. Items that contain no carbon, or do not harm the environment do not acquire the tax, which is supposed to cause the people of Australia to buy these products rather than those that contain carbon – and the tax that is now mandatory with it. However, just like girls and chocolate, we know carbon is bad for us – but in the end we just can’t seem to get enough of the products that contain it.

I do believe it was in 1997 that the Liberal Party were involved in instigating the GST (General Standard Tax, although I don’t think I needed to say what that acronym means…), which was applied to a large monopoly of items and to this very day still is. The Carbon Tax is much like this, and after been introduced last week, has already begun to plague the public, especially small business owners, who fear that they will be forced to pay more for their supplies, which includes anything from fresh food and groceries to household appliances.

Although don’t ask me how a banana or an apple or a bit of meat on a slab that up until five hours ago was going ‘mooo!’ is in any way capable of nefariously affecting our environment. Simply put – why is fruit been taxed? Why is meat been taxed? I know a cow when alive eats and farts grass all day – but an innocent piece of red meat? What did it ever do to hurt anyone – except for bleed in the car on the way home…hate when that happens!

However, the PM has issued money to all Australian residents to help pay for the newly initiated tax. The allotment supplied however depends on whether a person is single, whether they be a couple, or whether they be a family with kids. Basically, a person may receive anything between $70 to around $400 per month is it? I’m not really down with the figures, but this grant is supposed to assist with paying for the tax, which almost seems a little redundant if you ask me. I mean, why tax something, only to help people pay for it? Then again almost everything seems to be on the verge of being taxed. Should only be glad that the air we breathe and the carbon dioxide we breathe back out does not come with a charge. No, sorry I spoke too soon – I think that is been implemented next week.

Amazingly enough, last time I checked the mining industry was not been taxed, and at the very start one of the whole ideas – was to tax the mining industry!

Now, with this said, I think it’s obvious that I am not a fan of the ominous Carbon Tax and am therefore not gonna dance up and down the street supporting the damn thing. However, if I am to look at this tax without personal bias and loathing, I do believe there are some possible efficacious reasons behind its introduction, rather than simply malicious ones.

I do believe it was at this year’s climate change summit that PM Julia Gillard spoke to other countries about the growing need to save our planet from the villainous enemy that is carbon. Basically, she was laughed out of the show for suggesting such a thing. Why? Do not other countries want to save the world? Maybe…but why take advice about saving the world from a country that can’t be bothered saving it themselves?

If Australia begins a carbon tax and shows how it is reducing carbon emissions by limiting the spread of major companies and their use of such a source of power, then other countries may be inclined to follow suit. It’s all fun and easy for Australia to sit back and say to other countries the likes of America and Asia and Europe that they ought to consider taxing carbon emissions, but if Australia is not doing the same thing, then why listen. That’s like saying to a friend of yours ‘walk through that mine field to collect our tennis ball’, whilst at the same time you yourself are not going to accompany him in and risk being blown up just as he is. That’s the thing – this whole carbon tax could blow up in our faces.

I guess in this sense Australia is being the guinea pig. Probably a good idea. If Australia puts its money where its mouth is for once in its life and takes the first step in a mature direction, the other countries of the world may step up to the table and do the same thing.

Doing the right things costs nothing. Well, in this case it does, but it will be worth it in the end if everything is successful. Well, I hope so, otherwise not only will we be drowning in carbon emissions, bankruptcy, people and political bull – but we’ll be broke as well!

Who really cares about climate change? Who really cares about global warming? They are both one and the same, funnily enough. Except the latter sounds far nicer than the former.

Yes ladies and gentleman the elephant in the room has officially been spotted. No, no, not the same sex marriage elephant, that poor little guy was hunted down to extinction. That’s what happens when you have a government filled with homophobes. And not the elephant in regards to migration and asylum seekers – I do believe that one was been trafficked across the ocean when its ship capsised and drowned. No, I’m talking about the one in regards to carbon emissions!

By having a carbon tax, the Australian public get something from it – what? A bigger bill? Well, that too, but I am talking about the unavoidable discovery of climate change. It cannot be ignored again now that a tax has been promulgated and has been officially revealed to the Australian public, and carbon has been visualised as the horrific monster that it is. And even though at least half the country is talking about how much they hate the friggin’ tax, at least they are still talking about it, right? Right?

If Australia builds up an awareness of the carbon emission issue, then other countries will be able to see it for what it is; a worldwide pandemic that ultimately threatens to devastate our way of living if we do not do something about it immediately.

However, in all fairness our planet is already so far fucked not even Heaven herself could save us. But if we lucky and are still able to stop the hands of time from ticking, then we would have saved our future generations. The only problem is they’ll be broke cuz their families wasted all their money paying for the carbon tax…

Inevitably, if the scientists and the PM are correct and the carbon tax is going to ultimately save our asses, then that in my view would be reason enough for the tax to be successful. If it works, and is proven to be effective in fighting the issues with our changing climate, then it will be of great interest for other countries to instigate. Upon a majority of countries in the world initiating such a (what could be sometimes visualised as) drastic movement against the changing climate, then we will effectively be getting somewhere with the preservation of our future.

The real change will begin when countries like China, who have a carbon foot print that makes Godzilla’s look immeasurably miniscule, begin to come to the table. Australia’ population is roughly 25 mil. America’s is a couple hundred mil, and China’s is well into the bil+. My point? 25 million people can’t honestly cause as much carbon damage as a country with a couple hundred million, and a country containing a couple hundred million people can’t do nearly as much damage as a country with a good billion people running around inside it.

So the PM may charge us for our carbon footprint, but even if we continue this for the next couple hundred years or more and Australia effectively reduces its emissions by 50%, 75% or hell, even 100%, it is going to do sweet not much at all if every other country just sits back and continues to use and abuse what they have. The world ain’t gonna be saved just because one country decided to tax carbon and reduce emissions. We are only doing this for our pathetically tiny part of the world. The other countries need to look out for their own, and if they don’t, then all our lives may well be lost.

Very recently South Korean scientists made the discovery that Minke Whales are yummy. Maybe tomorrow another South Korean scientist will come to the realisation that something needs to be done about the carbon emissions of the world. All it takes is another country to step up to the table and announce the same thing the Australian PM has for the statement to be better heard.

Now, I will admit, true, I have complained and have taken umbrage at this whole carbon tax fiasco, but the reason I am so concerned is simple. Australia is a small country and I become concerned when someone changes the biscuits that I have with my afternoon coffee. A change in the way I spend my dollars of course will be considerably more dramatic in my life. Also, I may believe that the world is drowning in its own carbon fumes, but that don’t mean I have to enjoy the idea of forking out an extra few dollars each and every day.

Yes, why the hell not! Most of the world is drowning under the issue that is the economic recession, especially in Europe. Think about it…if European nations begin to tax people on carbon, that could be one way to boost the amount of money governments had.

I know when I first heard our PM talk about the carbon tax I initially thought it was just another money raking scheme that she had concocted out of thin air to gain a little extra cash on the side. Well, in my defense against such ignorance our PM does seem to give herself and her municipals a pay rise every second week, which mind you, comes out from the rate payer, which explains why our bills have miraculously increased by almost 25% over the past couple months alone…so why not ask the people of this country for a little more money in the disguise of a tax that addresses something that cannot be seen. That’s like making a tax against ghosts.

But like I have already said I actually believe that carbon is an issue that needs to be resolved, and maybe our PM legitimately cares and is the right lady for the job to lead our country into the future. Only time will tell.

What I can say however is that although our PM likes to swear up and down that our country has the best economic situation in the ENTIRE WORLD and believes this to be true to such an extent that she bragged about it at a summit not too long ago where the economic recession was the primary topic of discussion. I guess the PM simply forgot that little Queensland was attached to our little country. Well, it only takes up a good fifth of this country of ours, so it’s understandable that it is very easy to be dismissed. My point is that Queensland is 12 billion dollars in debt. Maybe that simply slipped the PM’s mind when she was discussing our great Australia’s debt situation was? Here, the carbon tax could be a good way to help soothe the situation, and I do believe that politicians in Queensland have suggested the exact same thing. But of course, those politicians, they will gain a little bit for themselves – let’s not lie. An extra buck in the pocket is always great.

So with that said, if the carbon tax cannot help our country’s be rid of any carbon issues – perhaps it could help with many of the economic ones that keep sprouting out from the ground like Lemmings.

Either way we are for the moment stuck with the carbon tax. Now, I am yet to consult my little crystal ball, so I do not foresee what will come of such a tax, but I can say that if it helps this little blue and green planet of ours from staying little, blue and green – why the hell not allow its longevity, along with our own in the process?

This is Naughty Nefarious, signing off

What? Are you completely dog gone? You’re not going to kiss me with that mouth, are you?



Recently, Australia’s favorite journalist, Joe Hildebrand, developed an article discussing the sexuality of his pooch.

If you want to do pee pee in your pants, I suggest you read this:


Anyway, after reading the article, I really began to think about my own dog. I thought about it that night. I thought about it a bit the next day. And I thought about it today, and even now as I am writing this I am still thinking about it. True, my beloved dog, Sheena the Collie Bitch Goddess has not been with us for a great many years now, but her behaviour back in the day could very well have been reminiscent of her sexual nature.

This ignorant imbecile for one had never considered that any other animal besides a human being could indeed be homosexual. But hey, you learn something new each day!

According to the science, of which I know very little about, FYI, in every person’s brain is a specific section that is reserved for attraction and governs the laws of sexual lust and desire which causes men to like women, and vice versa. For homosexuals, this particular part of the brain is said to be operating differently. However, in my view it would be better to have a part of your brain operating differently than to have no brain at all, which unfortunately for me describes half the people I associate my life with.

Of course, if people can be gay, then why not other species too?

Of course, my discovery of this ain’t all that amazing. Bearing in mind this is coming from the guy who up until last year thought that to ‘poke’ someone meant you took your index and your middle finger and stuck them up a particular orifice of someone you adored. Who would have known it could ever be as boring as simply clicking a button on a social media page? I personally fear the day when other things, like sex, are relegated to such a thing in the terrifyingly possible future, where you visit someone’s site and click the ‘have intercourse’ button, before choosing whether it be verbal, physical or a good ol’ roll in the hay.

Moving on however, the thing is that dogs are quite unlike people. People need to see someone to get aroused. Dogs can simply sniff ‘em out. Now yes, we did eventually remove Sheena of her womanhood to keep from having any little Sheena’s running around in the near future, but that still does not put an end to a dog’s primordial instinct which is to sniff its way through life, something that all dogs have been doing since Christ was a boy.

One thing I have never quite managed to get a handle on is a dog’s introduction to another dog. I mean, what kind of message are dog’s receiving when they shove their nose up another dog’s rectal crack? I doubt they’re gonna take a whiff and go ‘mmm, smells like my favorite perfume – vanilla extract! Have you been eatin’ the ice cream again?’

I can only be so glad that a long time ago a human decided that a hand shake would be a more appropriate introductive method for the human race, else during job interviews I’d have to walk behind my future boss’s desk, get down low and sniff away at the rear end of their trousers. Might not be so bad actually if my boss was a saucy minx of a woman with the body of an hour glass and a shit load of tattoos – I mean, I would probably be fantasising about being in that very position – and several others mind you over the course of my contract with the company.

Besides, I think we already have enough figurative arse licking (especially in regards to politicians), arse sucking (especially in regards to politicians), arse kissing (especially in regards to politicians) and arse sniffing (especially in regards to politicians) in this society of ours without adding any more to it. I mean, if everyone else begins to do so, I can assure you that one, all of those politicians who lick, suck, kiss and sniff their way through politics won’t look so antagonistic, and two, that whole 60s idea of no sex until at least the second date will completely go right out the window, for if you have already shoved your face right up someone’s crack at the beginning of the first date, imagine what you would have done by the end? You would have basically experienced the beginning, middle and end of the relationship all in one evening!

However, Sheena’s behaviour with the guys, before and after her ability to reproduce was systematically removed, was never exactly what one could consider ‘normal’. Whenever a male dog would come within her proximity, she would roll over onto her back and stick her legs into the air. She would keep this pose for as long as the male dog was around, and she would do her absolute best not to move a single muscle. The posture she was able to keep would make those models who go nude in those art classes look bad. 

Yes, she would play dead.

Of course, I don’t think Sheena was smart enough to realise that her death would probably look a little different than that. I know when I die I won’t be on by back with my legs and arms in the air. Unless I was performing some seriously naughty, sexually explicit ‘X’ rated promiscuously raunchy fantasy and happened to be tied up at the time whilst been spanked by the hands of little Australian hookers. 

The male dogs would take one look at her when she struck this pose, tilt their head to the side and make the ‘mmm?’ dog noise, whilst looking utterly perplexed at the sight before them. You know the look I mean, when a person looks as though there is nothing happening behind the eyes? Whilst I write this I am sitting beneath a tree, enjoying the city air as a chubby bloke walks by who seems to have the exact same expression I’m talking about permanently etched upon his face. I can assure you, if a single thought went through his mind it would go by so fast it would not only be the fastest thing in all of Melbourne, it would make light speed look like slow motion.

However, Sheena’s behaviour was quite the opposite whenever a female dog happened to walk by. Then, she would hurry over with impeccable speed and shove her face into the smelly snatch of her fellow canine and have herself some analingus, cunnilingus, and any other kind of ‘ingus one could possibly imagine.

I can’t imagine what kind of conversation they might have had. May have gone something like this actually…

Sheena: (eyes female dog walking by with owner) (thinks) ‘Wow, that husky is a fox!’ (runs over and sniffs husky’s buttocks)

Sheena: ‘Su’p dawg?’

Siberian husky: ‘Nothing much. What’s your name?’

Sheena: ‘I’m Sheena the Collie Bi-arch’

Siberian husky: ‘I’m Leila, the Siberian husky’

Sheena: ‘Wow, who could have known, two purebreds like us meeting. It must have been fated to happen. Tell me, what is a dog like you doing in a place like this?’

Siberian husky: ‘I’m going walkies!’

Sheena: ‘Really?’

Siberian husky: ‘Really, really! My owner takes me out so I can piss and shit all over the neighbor’s yards. Friggin’ beautiful!’

Sheena: ‘Yeah?’

Siberian husky: ‘Yeah, plus, my owner is sick and tired of me wiping my smelly arse along the carpet from one end of the house to the other. I tried to tell her, ‘if you let me have some of that pink toilet paper you wipe your arse with bitch then this shit wouldn’t happen!’ but as always, she didn’t listen.’

Sheena: ‘I know the feeling. Tell me, who’s the stiff?’

‘Siberian husky: ‘That’s my owner silly.’

Sheena: ‘Would she mind if you and I skipped this place and made out?’

Siberian husky: ‘She sure might.’

Sheena: ‘Well, what if I asked you to come inside and have a bite of my sweet, moist bone?’

Siberian husky: ‘Oh, I would love to bite down on your bone! However, my owner might have a problem with that. And if it was more than just eating the bone that you wanted to me do, I may have a problem with that too! You see, I’m real religious – I don’t believe in having rudey nudey’s until after marriage.’

Sheena: ‘Damn girl, what is with you?’

Siberian husky: ‘I know right! So if you wanted to get down on me, right here, right now, you are barking up the wrong tree sweetie.’

Sheena: ‘Yeah, and to think, I was captivated by your beauty and your grace from the moment you walked by, and from the moment you started to talk, you had me eating out of your paw.’

Of course, been unaffiliated with the language of canine, the husky’s owner and I would only have heard:

Sheena: ‘sniff, sniff’

Siberian husky: ‘woof, woof, woof, woof’

Sheena: ‘woof, woof, bark, woof’

Siberian husky: ‘woof, woof, woof, arf!’

Sheena: ‘Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, bark, woof, woof, woof, awwwwoooll!’

Siberian husky: ‘Woof, woof’

Sheena: ‘Bark’

Siberian husky: ‘Bark, bark, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof’

Sheena: ‘Woof, woof, woof, arf’

Siberian husky: ‘Woof, bark, bark’

Sheena: ‘Woof’

Siberian husky: ‘woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, arf, bark, woof, woof, woof, bark, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, arf, arf, woof, woof, woof, woof, arf, arf, woof, woof, woof, woof’

Sheena: ‘Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof’

Siberian husky: ‘Woof, woof, bark, bark, woof, bark, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, arf, woof, woof’

Sheena: ‘Woo, woof, arf’

Siberian husky: ‘woof, woof’

Sheena: ‘Arf, arf, bark, bark, bark, woof’

Siberian husky: ‘woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, woof, woof, woof, woof, arf, arf, bark, woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, awwwwwoolll! Awwwwoolll! Woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, woof’

Sheena: ‘woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, bark, arf, arf, woof, woof, woof, woof, bark, bark, woof’

However, I’m not attempting to emphasise that Sheena was in any way a sex crazed lesbian love fiend, nor am I attempting to postulate the generalisation that she was a filthy animal. No, my Sheena, she was all class ladies and gentleman. For one, she would poop wherever she wanted. Often it was easy to find, I mean, little brown rocks often stand out on green grass. Especially if the little brown rocks weren’t all that little. It was the sneaky ones she would do around the side of the house that you had to look out for.

Secondly, sometimes when she would take a dump, she would take one look at her excreted bodily products and think to herself ‘you know that looks really quite delectable’ and have a good ol’ munch on it. It was especially nice when she would come running up to you later and lick your face with her shit stained teeth.

Thirdly, the girl could really pack it away! I never knew a woman of any species could eat so damn much. Maybe that’s why she ate her shit sometimes – she felt food deprived. She at times ate her own vomit too. Sometimes she would then vomit it back up and eat it all over again. Good times.

Fourthly, she had the intellect of a dodge ball.

Fifthly, like all girls, she loved to have fun!

In conclusion though, I am uncertain that I will ever be able to successfully fathom the sexual orientation of my pooch. Even if she were still alive, it is not as though I could ask her. But even if she had been a lesbian, I would have loved the smelly, hairy, disgusting, beautiful, gorgeous, loveable animal that she was. I miss you Sheena the Collie Bitch Goddess, and wherever you may be; Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, floating in a void of nothingness or just gone completely, just know, I still love you.

Dedicated to the memory of Sheena: 1985-1998


Thank you for reading


This is Naughty Nefarious, signing off once more

It was an Embarrassing Day!


This piece contains some rather strong coarse language.

Okay, let me paint u a picture – I’m 4 years old. It’s a weekday, and I am already running late for kindergarten, and I suddenly have this enormous urge to relieve my bladder. Now, bearing in mind at this point I was not exactly what you could call ‘skilled’ at aiming my projectile weapon. Quite often my payload would go everywhere but where I wanted.

I remember once when I was 7, it was a very dark night and I decided not to turn on the lights as to not wake up my parents, cuz their bedroom was next to the bathroom. I was busting, and I managed to make it to the bathroom in time – to watch my penis go absolutely crazy. I took hold of Naughty Junior, and took aim, kind of, and watched the havoc in what appeared to be slow motion – it went everywhere. On the walls. On the ceiling. On the floor. On the toilet rolls (that is what they all for, right, so that wasn’t so bad, right?). On the towels. On the mirror. Yes, it was a nightmare. In the end – not one drop managed to make it into the bowel – some of it I will admit hit the seat, but, that still counts as a ‘miss’. Like basketball – you don’t get points for hitting the rim. Cleaning it up was the worst part – at one point I miscalculated the extent of the damage and slipped on my ex-bodily liquid and skidded across the tiles and happened to slam into the cabinet. I was headed for the shower but managed to grab hold of the door and did an amazing 180 degree spin away from it – I was really impressed. Safe to say my parents awoke – and they were less than pleased.

Anyway, back to when I was 4 – judging by my brilliant history of missing every time I tried to relive my bladder, which I apparently continued for some years to come, I decided to sit down. Yes – which was as it later seemed, not the greatest of plans. So, there I am, relieving myself, when I slip – no, not off the toilet, that would have been not embarrassing at all. I slip into it. Apparently, when I sat down my arse cheeks were teetering on the edges of the inner most portion of the seat, and I just so happened to lose my balance.

So, here’s the picture; I am officially half way in. My arse is about two inches away from needing a snorkel. My feet are dangling just above the floor and I am helpless to move. So – I call for my mother, who at the time was my heroine. In she comes – and laughs at me. She doesn’t cry, which is what I was doing mind you. She doesn’t scream or yell ‘golly gosh!’. No, she nearly pisses her pants as she watches me dangle from where I am like a fish before eventually coming to my rescue – or not. She takes hold of my arms and begins to drag me out – she drags. She pulls. She pushes. She yells. She growls. She groans. She pants. She pulls. She prods. (This is beginning to sound like a regular porno). She yanks with all her might – but I won’t budge. Daddy was out at work at the time. He left every morning at five to help control Melbourne’s power. So, it was just me and mummy – who could not save me. She says she might need to get the neighbor to help yank me from the bowels of hell. Shit no! At least that is what I would have said back then if I had known such a term existed, cuz bearing in mind at the time I was innocent and sweet. It was the following year, my first day of primary school actually that I leant the words ‘fuck’ and ‘cunt’. Yes, my parents were proud they had sent their son for a higher education. NOT! Anyways, the mere mention of the neighbor’s assistance causes my inner self to empower my body to wrench myself free. I push and my mother pulls, and eventually I am saved!

That however ain’t the most embarrassing part. The local newspaper decided to make a story out of this, titled ‘toilet tries to eat stupid little prick and an arsehole’. (This part is meant to be a joke. I know, my friends didn’t laugh at this either!)

FYI – I don’t miss anymore!

Naughty Nefarious, signing off

Favorite Words: At least 1 for each letter of the alphabet

A: Antagonistic/Archipelago

B: Behemoth/Beverage

C: Cunnilingus

D: Desolation/Doppelganger

E: Enigma/Exponentially

F: Fathom/Foray/Fruition/Fruitless

G: Gargantuan/Gregarious

H: Heretic/Hubris

I: Infatuation/Initiate/Instigate

J: Jabberwocky

K: Kinetic

L: Lineage/Love

M: Marauder/Menagerie

N: Narcissus/Necromancer

O: Obsidian/Odyssey/Orchestrate

P: Paramour/Paramount/ Postulate/ Preposterous/ Promulgate

Q: Quintessential

R: Renegade/Ricochet

S: Serendipitous/Synchronicity/Soiree

T: Tempest/Tyrannical

U: Ubiquitous/Uncanny/Undulate/Unfathomable

V: Vagrancy/Vanguard/Vying

W: Warlock/Wyvern

X: Xebec

Y: Yawp/Ytterbium

Z: Zealot

It’s been a long time coming: John Carter on DVD and BluRay Review


I realise that the film ‘John Carter’ has been out for some time now, a statement which is probably most true for any country that does not begin with ‘Australi-’, but over here in the land of down under, John Carter only recently made its way onto DVD and BluRay. I had been originally planning to see the feature at the cinema, but the reviews of others inevitably put me off. Even Disney itself, the major corporation involved in its orchestration had explained two weeks after the release of the film in America that the project, which had consumed a budget larger than 400 million US dollars had only raked in a total of 140 million over the course of the two weeks it had been out in the US.

So, with that said, I personally did not want others to be blinded by the bias of reviewers like I was. I usually am not the kind of guy to be influenced by the words of others (the Age back in 2009 gave Avatar a 3/5 for Chrissake!), but on this one occasion I have to admit that I unfortunately was, and am not too impressed with this at all. All I can say is that from now on I will try to do my best to keep an unbiased opinion, and not be influenced by the words of those who are no doubt paid to critique the shit out of anything and everything, and be quite negative about it too.

As for myself? Well, after what I have written, and what I intend to write, I think it would be quite obvious that I actually enjoyed the film. Yes, after been influenced by the fact that it would seem a large percentage of reviewers loathed the product, I wanted to create a piece that reflected my own, rather contradictory opinion to the stereotypical normality. I mean, none of the pamphlets from major stores around where I live have even advertised the unveiling of the product on DVD and BluRay which officially came out on the 4th of July. With those kind of marketing practices, things are looking kinda bleak for John Carter’s future.

For those who have not seen the film, John Carter is a sci-fi, romantic action extravaganza in the tradition of films the likes of James Cameron’s Avatar, Disney’s Tron Legacy, Dances with Wolves with Kevin Costner, and the Last Samurai with Tom Cruise. The feature is based upon the novel ‘a Princess of Mars’ by legendary sci-fi writer Edgar Rice Burroughs, who wrote an entire series, comprised of eleven novels. If you have read the book and are familiar with the series, then you may enter the film with many expectations and may come out disappointed, so I would suggest you walk into the film with little to no expectations and wipe clean from your mind any prior knowledge you have on the subject matter.

However, do not allow the ‘Disney’ logo to upset you. Recently in my opinion, Disney is becoming more and more mature in the creation of products that are able to provide the entire family with entertainment. The children can enjoy the comedy and the visuals, and the adults can appreciate the detail of the storyline. Everybody wins, and I think Disney deserves an ocean load of Kudus for being able to accomplish such a thing.

The film revolves around, as the title might suggest, a young man named John Carter who is a Captain in the days when the wild west was beginning to die away. Originally trained and hired to fight in the Civil War, and later still the Native American Indian tribes of America and later still anyone else the army and the country wanted from him, he returns home to find it is not quite what he left.

Played by Taylor Kitsch, who at the moment is seen as Hollywood’s antagonist, the film is already given a bad reputation with all of the unbelievable jargon that has been hurled against this actor. With almost all of the films he has happened to star in over the past couple years visualised as flops, and with the media witting articles the likes of ‘Kitsch for Kitsch’, which is just downright mean for lack of a better word (in Britain, kitsch means ‘shit’, so one can understand what this article is attempting to illustrate), things are not at all looking too bright for the future. I however am yet to see Battleship or any other feature Kitsch has happened to star in, so I cannot comment on any such arguments that have been made against him or his acting in these particular movies, or the issues that are associated with the films he has chosen to participate in.

Hired once more by his government not long after his return, Carter feels more comfortable however wanting to look into a ’cave of gold’ he has discovered, money being something of grand significance to him and his prime motivator in these dark times.

Escaping from his captors and pursued by Native Americans, he finds his way back to his ‘cave of gold’, only to be set upon by an alien visitor who instantly attempts to take his life, Carter been forced to defend himself. Unfortunately for him, in all of the confusion he happens to trigger a teleportation device that sends him from Earth, all the way to Mars, which is quite unlike the planet that we know and love.

The world is at war, with three great super powers vying for a piece of the pie. These include the likes of the peaceful people of Helium, the imperial, antagonistic forces of Zodanga, and the eight foot tall, four armed, green skinned aliens known as Tharks, who are a combination of the Navi from Avatar, the Twi’lek from Star Wars and a Walrus from Earth.

Upon arrival on Mars, Carter finds he has the impressive ability to leap incredible distances, and is additionally endowed with formidable strength to match. All of this is due to his human bone density and his weight on the planet’s surface. Initially captured by the Tharks, the tribal leader of the clan, Tars Tarkas, played by Willem Defoe, sees exponential potential in his abilities, and later, the other factions on the planet too recognise the potential that he carries. The title of the film moreover, and the ‘JC’ symbol, would suggest that Disney is heavily attempting to endow the character John Cater with a sense of extraordinary Godliness.

Discovering from the Tharks the war that has raged upon the planet, it is no surprise that Carter initially refuses to participate, knowing full well the repercussion that he was forced to endure in his past from fighting back on Earth, which is rather beautifully portrayed throughout the course of the feature in flashbacks. Ironically enough, after said refusal, Carter inadvertently happens to walk straight into the war upon having a chance encounter with Helium princess Dejah Thoris, played by Lynn Collins.

Discovering that the people of Helium are in mortal danger at the hands of Zodanga, Carter find he has quite a decision to make after appearing on the radar of Mar’s enemy number one. Sab, played by Dominic West, is the Zodangan Warlord who is attempting to reign supreme, and decides that he will spare the people of Helium a grizzly fate if Princess Thoris chooses to marry him. Escaping from his vile clutches, which I guess was her way of saying ‘hell no!’, she falls into the hands of John Carter, later explaining to him that she can help get him home, which is exactly where he wants to go back to.

However, she, like many of the characters of the film, has an ulterior motive. She wants Carter to help her people, just like Tarkas wants him to help his. Funnily enough, the other antagonist in the film, Matai Shang, played by Mark Strong, wants Carter to get back to Earth as well, fearing his abilities could prove quite resourceful in the battles that lie ahead and could ultimately destroy the plans that he and his shadowy brethren have put in motion.

Discovering that the way back home may not be as easy as ‘one, two three’, Carter finds that he can either sit back and watch Mars inevitably destroy itself, or choose a faction to fight beside. Due to the fact that the film is based around a war, it is safe to say that the film is partially more violent than other Disney features you may be familiar with, with a small portion of blood almost always covering a certain part of your hero’s faces.

Moreover, just like with Avatar, one look at the film will forever alter your perception on what a Hollywood film company can accomplish in a movie. The film’s special effects are absolutely flawless, unsurpassed even, and are beautifully detailed, the vibrant world of Mars coming to life before your very eyes with unbelievable description, the sheer intoxication of the visuals being something out of a dream. The gorgeousness of the design is only surpassed by the feeling that surrounds you as you watch the feature and are mesmerised by the physicality of its design, for you won’t just see the beauty of the Martian planet, but feel it, as it travels up and down your spine.

This is to be expected from a film with the Disney logo on it, and just like with other Disney features, the way the film is written will be able to appeal to all ages. There are moments of humour, both verbal and slapstick that will appeal to children and adults alike, and about half the time you will find yourself chuckling at one thing or another. If you’re not chuckling, then your mouth will probably be partially open as you gasp in awe at the special effects as mentioned previously.

That is not to say however that the action is not present, which it certainly is. There are pieces of sci-fi mumbo jumbo been utilised by all manner of races and some pretty quirky flying vehicles that are a combination of butterflies meeting the winged beasts from Avatar. The characters however feel more happy using swords rather than guns, and that makes for some brutal close up and personal scenes. Well, brutal by Disney standards at least, which is not saying much because the ability to draw blood in a film with the Disney logo is about as easy as pulling teeth out from a live Great White Shark. On occasion though, these fight scenes may end too soon, and leave you wanting just a little bit more.

Humour, action and special effects aside, the film works best when it is being straight up romantic and emotionally powerful. Yes – as with many Disney products there is a romantic story to be found which is one of the more powerful themes, and you keep wondering when and if something might happen. When Disney is playing with this concept seriously rather plan toying around with other ideals in a more comedic manner the film is no doubt at its best. I will admit, the film will not draw you to tears, but you will no doubt feel touched by the affection and deeply connecting storyline that is told during these moments of Disney greatness. By the end, you may feel that it is one of those cheap, romantic endings, but who really cares when you are on the verge of bawling your eyes out?

Moreover, in regards to the actors, Defoe does an impeccable job, as per usual in his acting, proving not only that he can successfully act his way out of any situation, but that he is just as capable as playing motion capture as he is playing in a normally filmed feature. Lynn Collins on the other hand plays a ravishing blue eyed alien princess, who, with her gorgeous good looks and her fancy sword fighting skills will no doubt have the hearts of fan boys racing across the globe, and for numerous different reasons.

Additionally, Samantha Morton appears in the feature too as Sola, a fellow Thark and a sweetheart who is frequently tortured for putting toes out of line, who joins the fight with Carter and the others when the going gets serious. As usual, Morton proves she can change her accent as easily as I can change my clothes.

As for the other characters, almost all of them are not quite as well focused upon as those previously mentioned, and sometimes you might have to wonder why Disney even bothered to choose such a star studded cast when one, their parts are quite small, and two, due to the digitalisation of the characters, half of the actors you won’t even be able to recognise. I mean, if you were not told that Tars Tarkas was been played by Defoe, you probably wouldn’t even suspect him to be in the film period.

One thing I would note that could have perhaps been done better is the heightening of the film’s bad guys. True, they are present, but the film focuses so strongly on the major protagonists and barely has enough room for the stories of the enemy that at times you may find yourself forgetting them entirely. However, when they do appear, they often make up for their lengthy hiatus by attempting to do something either really cunning or quite unpleasant, and Matai Shang is especially an intelligent villain who is capable of even besting the one, the only, John Carter in a couple instances.

As for the release of the film on BluRay and DVD – as with many Disney features, the dialogue between characters is often incredibly soft. However, as soon as the music pipes up and the actions starts rolling, your choice to put the volume up to ‘32’ seems to have been a bad one as you find yourself blown across the room by the sheer thunderous force of the digitalised sound quality.

All in all, I cannot find too much at fault with this film, and perhaps that is my deteriorating eye sight, but I am at a loss as to why other reviews manage to criticise the living tissue out of this feature. The film has supposedly been in the works for about two years and has jumped around from one company to the next, and if you ask me it has almost certainly been worth the wait to finally add it to your movie collection today.

Oh, and be sure to keep an eye out for John Carters’ Martian pooch – quite possibly one of the most amazing animals ever in cinema who is destined to join the ranks of Lassie, Beethoven and Lucky.

Broken, Done or Dying? Actually, just Dead!


Contains sexual references and coarse language.

Weird title? Not really – it basically describes how I will inevitably feel if everything goes belly up in regards to the current girl of my dreams; Elisha. Yes, back on this topic, and I decided I would dedicate an entire post to this subject matter, so if you do not want to be bored to tears by the soporific ideas of some love depraved love struck anti-hero – I suggest you flee immediately!

Now, some themes and ideas I have brought up in previous posts may come up during this topic, but that is just because they are directly tied in with this subject matter.

Now, I have mentioned before and I will say it again; I suck at deciphering the codes that women use. I have found that women emphasise less with vocabulary, and more with physicality; basically, they say more with their faces than with their mouths. I however could not interpret an ‘I love you’ from a ‘go screw yourself’. Hence I don’t ever act on anything in that regard. A woman could give me the ‘I fancy you’ look, and I would be able to interpret that as easily as I could fly to the moon using nothing more than a jet propelled pack constructed from tissue paper. A woman could give me the ‘I think you’re a douche’ look, and I would probably interpret that to mean the exact opposite, but still not act on my ideas from fear that I am wrong. Yes, fear, it can be a very powerful ally. It is also the one bitch that prevents you from getting anywhere in this world.

What I personally would like, is for women to go up to guys and say what is on their mind, rather than giving them a look from a distance. I can’t translate what intense and frequent gander’s means, or what raised eyebrows or smiles are meant to signify, or what bared teeth and a tongue sticking out is supposed to represent. What is so difficult with just walking up to a bloke and saying what is going through their mind? I of course mean all this in regards to relationships. I don’t mean, go up to a guy if you’re thirsty and say ‘I like diet soft drink and I’m gonna go get me self some’. No, I mean go up to a bloke and say ‘hey, I think you’re as hot as magma’ rather than staring at a guy from across the room.

I read once on the Facebook page of a Miami psychologist that apparently 92% of all men would rather women make the first move in instigating a relationship. 92%? That is a big friggin’ percentage! With my views, I probably make up 65% of that entire statistic.

That would be the benefit of women making the first move – there would be no more looks. They would do the talking rather than ogling blokes from a distance, and I would be in a finer position for it. I would for one, not be in the fine mess I am now, for if Elisha liked me – she would have said something. Or has she? That is the problem, for when women are not looking at blokes, they are insinuating ideals in their dialogue and behaviour. God, if women wrote a dictionary on their codes and their looks and such, I would be so much happier for it. Then I could look in the little book (it would probably be a huge friggin’ book) when a woman pokes her tongue out at me and say ‘oh, that means she either wants to lick me genitals – or she hates my rotten guts. Oh, she’s winking at me, and giving me the finger- yeah, she totally hates me.’

On top of interpretation of codes and hidden messages and the like is, of course, the competition. The problem is that men pursue women, not the other way around, which would be another benefit of women making the first move. So all women have to do is sit back and watch the potential lovers come up to ‘em. Men need to actually be the potential lovers, which is somewhat more complex. I believe that women often do not notice many blokes until they make contact and ask them out. Until that moment, a woman may know a bloke exists, but will see him in a neutral fashion because women are better at being friends with blokes than blokes are at being friends with women.

At high school, the only real competition are other high school students, and it is very easy to prove yourself better than the rest. Actually, it’s not, but if you can’t win on that battlefield, then you are gonna die alone, afraid, and a virgin when the real fighting starts. How come? Out in the real world, and by ‘real world’ I mean post high school, which is as real in the dating game as it is ever going to get, all of the women are now like free range hens, pardon the comparison. All of them are now on the market for all the men. Most men in their early to mid twenties are attracted to women in the same age group – women in their early to mid twenties. The problem? Men in their thirties, forties and fifties are attracted to women in the exact same age group! Hell, I’ve seen my father who is breaching sixty checking out friggin’ teenagers! He’s married BTW, and I dunno if that makes it better or worse.

Women are, and always have been attracted to older blokes. So, those guys in their thirties and so on have a much higher chance of gaining one of those young ladies than a bloke in his twenties does. How so? Older men are better equipped economically, professionally and sexually (as in experience), and are better equipped with transport and accommodation too. Would a woman be more interested in that? Or in a bloke in his mid twenties who still lives with mummy, has a job that pays about fifty bucks per day rather than five grand, has a wooden car with a wooden engine that when started up wooden go, and whose sexual experience ranges somewhere between nil and not much. Yeah, real attractive – my arse! (I was not describing myself just then, FYI).

Of course, the next issue after communication and competition are standards. Every single woman has the image of the perfect man in their minds eye, and if you do not fit that criterion, then you have already failed before the relationship has officially begun. Now, this is one section that I do know about. You see, the woman of my dreams has a blog. I ain’t gonna provide the link because I don’t want other blokes going over there, thinking she’s a fox and stealing her right out from under me! I’m already having enough trouble right now without adding any more to my list!

How so? Well, apart from issues with communication, there was my intro…the first day we met was at university during a Media Management in Public Relations class. Yes, the girl of my dreams wants to be a PR consultant of sorts. Well, PR consultant or no PR consultant, an intro is still an intro, no matter which woman you are attempting to woo. So, as for my intro – I get out of my chair, take two steps forward, trip over a chair that some bastard has left out, and nearly break my neck and flatten the girl of my dreams in the exact same moment. Yeah, real smooth. Lucky for me I grabbed hold of the table, and lucky for me it did support my weight, else that would have been the end. No, I ain’t fat, but those tables at university…you barely have to look at ‘em and they wobble. Falling on ‘em – hell, I would not recommend it in the future.

Moving on…So, I am going to provide a couple quotes from her blog to explain what she is after. Elisha’s dream man needs to be a chef, an electrician, a mechanic and a carpenter. He needs to be capable of changing a light bulb and the water in the car, and additionally needs to be skilled in child care.

Of these areas, I have potential in cooking, in changing the light globe, child care and…awwwwwwww fuck! A mechanic? I don’t even own a car! An electrician? A carpenter? Fuck me! No, she won’t be doing that any time soon! Not with the pathetic resume that I have to offer.

But wait, what is Elisha’s opinion on the subject matter. Here is a quote from her blog; ‘So wherever my future husband is, I know he will have these skills and if he doesn’t, I know that he will learn these new skills so we can build a life together.’

Okay, so perhaps things aren’t completely over yet. I do however have to learn the skills and prove myself competent in them to ensure a successful relationship. But a carpenter? I don’t want a carpet! I would rather have wooden floors! (I realise carpenters do not work with carpet – this is my sick idea of an ironic joke).

Additionally, Elisha had this to say; ‘I don’t have any preferences on how my future husband has to look. But I do have an impressive checklist of what qualifications he must hold before even considering wanting to marry me.’

So, basically, if Elisha chooses to be with someone, they could be friggin’ hideous, that is what this sentence is saying.  An impressive skill set? She wants the fuckin’ impossible! She wants fuckin’ superman for Christ sake! Also, I’m not saying I want to marry this woman, but I would like to have a long term relationship, which is looking less and less likely to occur with every paragraph I write of this post.

Adjunctively, Elisha has mentioned in the past to me that she is a strong believer in the Christian religion. I am an atheist. Is that going to spell doom and gloom? Wait a minute, if we were to get married…does that mean the wedding will take place in a church? Could I even go to church? Hypothetically, let’s just say God is real 100%. I’m an atheist, I walk into church – will He smite me down with lightning? Or will I spontaneously combust and catch fire from the spells and hexes placed across the church to prevent people such as myself who are inevitably doomed to end up in hell from entering? Oh no, perhaps I should call this whole relationship thing off…this is just far too strenuous. Second thoughts, Elisha is far too foxy and amazing to give up on just yet…moving on.

On a more serious note, returning to the views on Christianity, I want to know one thing. At the start of 2011, Elisha mentioned she was a virgin. Yes, quite the thing to admit to, but she did. Being a Christian, what is the chance that she believes in getting married before you know, having rudey nudey’s/ the deed/ a roll in the hay/ the time of our lives/ how else could I put this without putting it any other way? I am not asking this question because I am a sex crazed loon – not at all. I would just like to know where she stands. One friend of mine has decided to not have sex (oh my God, I used the word!) before getting married, and although she is a Christian, she is not as strong a believer as Elisha is.

Any other issues? Well, there is of course location. Elisha has said in the past that she wishes to go to London for a year, and to go around the entire world. I intend to stay at uni to obtain my masters, so I will be unable to accompany her if we are in a relationship. That is the thing – I do not want a long distance relationship; I want a long term one, which is completely different people! At the moment, this same difficulty is in effect. How come? Elisha lives in Darwin. I live in Melbourne. For those of you who do not live in Australia, let me give you the geography.  Darwin is located at the top most centre point of Australia. Melbourne is located in the lower most right section of Australia. There is a cool few hours of flight time in-between each state, with a massive desert smack bang in the centre. Elisha is only in Melbourne whilst she is at university, and since every semester is only twelve weeks in length (and during the week off Elisha flies back home), that provides me with very little time. Quite the issue it would seem…

The other problem would be that I am infatuated with her. And, I am sure anyone reading this right now knows how it feels to be infatuated with the one woman/person you cannot live without – it is friggin’ horrible! I realised I had feelings for her last year, but I did not make a move. Why not? Was I chicken? No, that was not it. I simply thought she was in Melbourne just for the year, and I would never see her again. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how I view this, she did return this year. I did nothing again, not because I was chicken, but because I came to this conclusion; do not do anything until the last minute, the last minute being the first week of the final semester we would ever experience together at university. That way, any awkwardness that comes from me finally admitting to her my feelings will be relatively less difficult than it would be if I mentioned the way I felt earlier on. So, if everything goes belly up, then we will only have to experience eleven weeks of awkwardness rather than an entire year’s worth.

What awkwardness am I referring to? People go to university to study. They spend a shit load of money to do so. By the time I am finished, I would have a racked up a bill that probably extends to that of 100 K, if not more. I mean, my masters course alone will cost 42 thou, and who knows about the doctorate!

At high school, people can quit at any time, whilst people who attend university attend such an institution because they want to. They wish to gain an education – they do not go there to get hit on by fellow students. If they wanted some dufus flirting with ‘em, they would spend their life in a bar. So, by waiting until the end of university basically, that limits the amount of awkwardness that could very well come from such a situation. I think…

The problem with this plan is that I cannot move on from the way I feel until I confess to Elisha my feelings cuz that is the kind of guy I am. I need to verbally convey them to the woman in question, and then, if nothing happens, which is quite the possibility, I will be able to successfully move on roughly two weeks later. If something happens, well, that would be absolutely beautiful, but I always plan for the worst, and hope for the best, but do not expect it to ever come to pass. Due to the fact that I cannot move on, I have to endure these painful feelings. Yes, they are terribly, terribly painful. You see, at the moment;
I want Elisha
the way a heart needs a beat,
the way lungs need oxygen,
the way a bee needs pollen,
the way a plant needs the sun.

I want Elisha
the way a shark needs the sea,
the way a lion needs meat,
the way earthworms need moisture,
the way rich red blood needs cells.

I want Elisha
the way a gun needs ammunition,
the way a hunting knife needs a clean,
the way an army needs a captain,
the way a country needs government.

I want Elisha
the way a husband needs a wife,
the way Cupid needs an arrow,
the way true love needs to survive,
the way moist lips need to be kissed.

Okay, sorry about the shotty poetry, but I felt no other way to explain myself nor my feelings.

So basically, I still have a few issues I need to go through…

…before I go however, there is one last question I wish to pose…back in March, Elisha mentioned in conversation that she was going to cook with someone she referred to as her ‘lovely’. Now, who might this ‘lovely’ be, cuz she never went into specifics. Lovely husband? Lovely partner? Lovely boyfriend? Lovely mother? Lovely father? Lovely family member? Lovely friend? Lovely teacher? Lovely dog? It would have to be one friggin’ awesome dog to know how to cook, let’s put it that way! Also, the post I took the information about her potential future husband? She typed that up in April, one month after mentioning this dinner. Any ideas? No? Yes? No?

I guess I will find out when I see her next…if I see her next…

Well, here’s Naughty Nefarious once more, signing off, and hoping for the best. See you round…

…and thanks for reading!

BTW, Any material acquired from Elisha’s blog is copyright of the original writer.

I Really Don’t Understand Women


FYI…… THIS PIECE CONTAINS SOME RATHER INAPPROPRIATE SEXUAL REFERENCES AND COARSE LANGUAGE. I should probably apologise before you continue reading in case you become shocked by what you might read.

BTW, if you have the intention of reading my other post ‘Broken, Done or Dying? Actually just Dead!’, I would recommend you perhaps read this post first to gain a better understanding of how I totally do not understand the fairer sex.

Now, I wish to talk about two instances involving women where I received mixed signals and interpreted them wrongly. Basically, as I will explain in the piece mentioned above, women give off signals to blokes to indicate whether they like them or not. Well, I have as much an easy time interpreting those signals as I would Egyptian Hieroglyphs.

One: Final year of high school. It’s literary class, or ‘porn’ as I sometimes called it. People would ask me ‘what class do you have next?’ and I would say ‘porn!’ They did not get this, and after asking ‘what?’ I would reply ‘it’s literature – but all we ever talk about is sex and nudity.’ Yes, and whoever said reading literature could not be sexy?

Anyway, perhaps it was for this very reason that I did something a little untoward. There was this foxy New Zealand chick in my class, who come to think of it was totally out of my league. For one, she played sport; soccer, hockey, wrestling – yes, she was a skinny chick, but she was a danger to the Australian people! On top of this, she was best friends with the arseholes of the school. Other people may have referred to this crowd as ‘the cool kids’, but for everyone else (meaning everyone who was not a part of this crowd), they were, and still to this day are, the arseholes! If that is not enough, she would go out every second night, and on occasion every night – and party like it was the end of the world. She would get pissed drunk! She would dance at every club every time she went out. She would hook up with random strangers. She was very wild now I come to think of it, and I’m afraid I’m not quite like that. This story is of course a post for another time, one which I shall title ‘Naughty Nefarious’s, A Nightmare on Chapel Street.’

Anyway, the end of the class comes, and I’m basically on the verge of coming too at the sight of this woman. Yes, I will admit, at the time it was quite often looks that got me interested. Amazingly enough it was after this particular woman that I grew up and decided looks were not everything, and it was the personality of the woman in question or their intellect that would gimmie interested in ‘em. But, on with the story.

I go up to the lady (who I have chosen not to name, cuz someone may read this and know who I’m talking about because how any people named Melissa O’Toole are there In Melbourne?) and I ask her out. I did not think about it, which is something cuz I like to pride myself on being kind of smart all the time, kind of. I did not hesitate. I just walked right up to her and said my line ‘do you wanna go out sometime’ like it was something I said to every person with breasts and a dress, or in her case a skirt that was so short her clitoris was constantly trying to pop out and say ‘hello world it’s me, and I’m awful moist this evening!’

Anyway, the response of this woman? Well, her friends sitting around her are dead silent; the bloke and the two other chicks – they were mid conversation, but they are all stumped! Their mouths hit the floor! Their eyes pop their sockets! Their tongues are tied like a li’l girl’s ponytails. The answer; ‘No thank you, I already have a boyfriend’, which I believe was a subtle way of saying ‘fuck off!’

The issue? Her ‘boyfriend’, the one she was ‘dating’, was the young man sitting right next to her!

Two: This one is probably pretty pathetic really. In March of this year I went to see the Americanised version of ‘Girl with the Dragon tattoo’. The first half an hour of the film I however felt was terrible. Why? The acting was superb. The directing was flawless. The dialogue was intelligent and the vibrant camera transitions were captivating. So, why was it so bad? Well, it wasn’t the film per se as it was those watching it; two of them in fact. I was seated up the very back, and so were they. Two young women to be precise. For the first half an hour at least. The issue; well, yes, they were foxy women, and the problem with foxy women at the cinema is that they are very distracting because they are so foxy, but no! That was not the issue…they kept using their phones. On, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, about twenty billion times! No – this is not a story of how I overcame the evil ladies of the cinema and told them to put away their phones. No – I placed my hand to the side of my face and by doing so they did not annoy me again. Yes – well, you see I have a very large hand. I have a very large head so it makes sense I have large hands to put next to my large head. I have large feet too which makes sense cuz I have such large hands. I also have a very large – okay, that’s enough! BACK TO THE STORY! Anyway, to digress, the ladies leave half an hour into the feature.

When the film is over, I walk out, past the cafeteria they have going on beside the candy bar – only to see the two ladies again. No, I did not confront them – quite the opposite actually – they confronted me! What the hell did I do to deserve such treatment! I’ll tell you what I did! I was too fucking handsome, that’s what! Nope, no bullshit! No joke! The ladies said that they found me attractive – and were deliberately putting their phones on and off, over and over and over again as to gain my attention and make me angry enough to go over and tell them to stop so they could initiate a conversation with me! If only I had told them to stop using their phones! Instead of watching Girl with the Dragon Tattoo I could have had a fucking threesome in the cinema toilets!

The ladies said I was an idiot, and basically made the implication they were fools to find me remotely appealing because of my inability to ‘read between the lines’ as they put it, and that any woman in general would be a fool to find me appealing after my piss poor display of my observational skills that night. I mean, want kind of idiot am I? I went to the cinema to see one of the most talked about movies of the year? I should have realised that you don’t do that! That’s not why you go to the cinema! No, you go to meet girls! That is apparently what you do these days! Who would have known? I mean, large screen, surround sound, leather seats (it was in the Extreme Screen after all), exorbitant prices – yep, who would have ever thought the cinema was where you see movies?

I’ll have you know that I have not yet had a threesome, and honestly, I’m not really looking for one. I know, loser, right? But, in my defense I have enough trouble trying to get a girlfriend, and then I have plenty of trouble trying to entertain just one woman without adding another one to the mix.

Well, with that said, I think it is obvious; during one moment, I thought the young lady was single, and did not realise the young man she was having a relationship with, if that is what the ominous ‘they’ call it these days, was sitting next to her. Yeah, I must be blind, deaf, dumb and stupid to have missed that one. And during the second circumstance I had difficulty attempting to notice two women flirting with me; albeit, rather strangely I might add, but still, flirting is flirting is flirting.

In my next post, ‘Broken, Done or Dying? Actually, just Dead!’ I wish to further this topic of discussion in accordance to the current ‘girl of my dreams’, how this applies to this situation and what my chances are.

Yes – stay tuned for the BIG reveal!

Naughty Nefarious, signing off – and thank you for reading.