Ladies Love Cool Jobe

So I have to be honest with you guys. A lot of you are wondering how a dude like me, a self-proclaimed chubby ugger, can bag so many ladies on a constant basis.

I'll be completely up front with you on this. I don't get by on my looks, my money, my car, my skills in bed or my infallible humour. I "have" so many hotbabes because of the pick-up line I employ.

LET ME SET THE SCENE LIKE A WAITER SET A TABLE

I pick out a hotbabe I'm interested in (purely physical), stroll up, get in close, whisper in her ear the following:

"If you don't have sex with me I will molest a baby."

Works every time!

Now calm down! Calm! Down! Nwod mlac! Are we ready to proceed? Okay. It's not a bad thing! Not go freaking out on me man, it was just a little acid. The babies are too young to remember any of it so it's okay. They have no idea what's going on.

Return of the Baby Killa

Man, celebrity mums are shitting me up the wall lately. What happened to good old-fashioned birth? Seems that the hottest thing in Hollywood right now is me. Second is getting a caesarean birth done.

If the baby don’t want come, be a doctor and stick that hand up the vadge. Yank the baby til it pops. SNOOP DOGG REMIX “yank it til it pooooooooops” (not til it “poops”)

Seems like celebrity mums want to preserve their vadge.

STUPID IDEA!

A Jobe By Any Other Name

My middle name is “Killer”. I could tell you why, but I’d have to get into a really long-winded description and I have to go soon and I’m sick of telling the story. But if you’re curious and you just HAVE to know, then you can check out my website for more information: www.jobe”killer”jobewebsite.com.au

Highly Doubtful

Hey, gang!

Just to let you know that I won’t spend much time in the Bloggerweb tonight because I have to watch the Family Guy Season 4 DVD and giggle like a schoolgirl.

I may eat sausages too.

Just to let you know of my future plans (FYI, etc) I probably won’t post tomorrow night, as I will probably attend a Looptroop performance at Bar Broadway. You are welcome to join me, and I may speak some of my future posts to you. But as far as stuff visible HERE, there will be none.

Maybe I will post in the morning. At this stage I do not know.

Zealot’d

A lot of cults fail because they promise a lot but don’t deliver. I reckon I would be a fantastic cult leader. Apart from being charismatic enough to attract many followers (with a keyboard), I think I have the perfect plan.

1. Promise to take them to a new paradisic island planet.
2. Take people’s money. (also be a sex cult to attract rich computer nerds who will pay a lot to have sex if they don’t think it is prostitution)
3. Buy island.
4. Prepare people for magical voyage.
5. Blindfold people and cover with box of earmuffs.
6. Admit drugs that will make them pass out for length of journey +1 day. Tell them it is so they adjust to the alien atmosphere (or some shit).
7. Place in ship container.
8. BoatDrive to island.
9. Place people there.
10. Reap praise of being a cult leader who delivers.

73 – Legacy. 73 – Legacy

What’s my legacy? What am I leaving behind on this Earth when I die? Apart from a handsome corpse, of course. It will probably be defiled as fuck. Horny bitches.

Because of my mini-crisis (cute. Half the size of a normal crisis but the same price. And available in white) I decided to think of some legacies I can leave behind. Here’s what I have so far:

• A mural that united rival gangs for a short time.
• Poisoning the world’s Coke supply so they are never again forced to drink foul, unhealthy beverages (Sorry, Steph. I know you work for Coke and this brand bashing hurts your label. But I don’t care).
• Four Words: World’s Largest Milkshake Maker
• Made orphanages fun. So much so that kids with parents would pretend to be orphans to join and wouldn’t go back to their parents even after being offered an iPod.
• Most underappreciated blogger-type dude. <--already pretty much there
• Transcend being by fighting a bear and winning.
• Uneaten pie and a place no one will ever look. While it survives, so does my memory. Pie filling: pamphlets about me.

The Ins and Outs of Being Post Cool

Out: Grey
In: Shiny

Out: Going to the races
In: Going to the western suburbs

Out: Drinking vodka
In: Drinking UPSIDEDOWN

Out: Electro
In: 60s Folk

Out: Coke Zero
In: Sticking knitting needles in your urethra/vadge

Out: Hair product
In: Fruit juice

Comfort Beverage

Oh Easyways. Just when I thought life was beyond saving, you come out with a new, exciting menu and make it all okay.

Frequently Asked Question

“Just what the FUCK is the square root of 4?”

2.

Square Eyes

I hate it when you ask someone if they’ve seen something on TV and they say they haven’t because they don’t watch TV.

Why do I need to know you don’t watch TV? You can just say that you haven’t seen it without having to make a statement about how you live your life. Like I’m somehow in the wrong for watching TV when they don’t approve of it.

Sweet Winter

I really love winter. Those fucking bears that live next door and throw wild parties usually just sleep the whole time.

I fucking hate them. But they growl and charge at anyone who threatens to throw them out. You might say that winter is my favourite month.

Live From The Stage

We have a lot of decent, god-fearing folk in the world these days. But where is all the decent, god-fearing folk music? Everything being released lately in the god-fearing folk scene is just unacceptable.

Dear Girl On The Train With Zadie Smith’s “On Beauty” Who Got Off At My Stop

Do you believe in destiny? Because I don’t think you believe in dieting.

A Greeting

When I go to high-powered business meetings and there is a person there that I do not know wearing gloves, I like to introduce myself by saying, "Hi, glovely to meet you."

THE INTERVIEW / GLIMPSE: Todd and Brant In Twenty Years

“Oh, no! We’re broke!”

“We were FOOLS to spend all our monies on rubies.”

“They truly are nature’s bitterest fruit.”

Pronunciation Key

Kit Kat

I don’t think that domesticated animals should eat food they can’t find in the wild or cook themselves.

But I won’t be a cunt. I mean, I don’t mind taking care of the list of foods they are allowed to eat, so it’s like nothing to you. And once it’s on the list, that is IT. Only evolution will make me consider taking it off.

“You have too few legs to eat raspberry confit, kitty.”

They can take as long as they want to make it too. I’m easy.

Train Wrecktacular

It’s really great fun to watch your whole life come crashing down around you and feel completely and utterly powerless.

I assume.

Cats Is Treacherous

Girls are fickle. This one girl broke up with me because I said I wanted her so much that I felt the urge to eat her skin, wait for it to grow back and eat it again, then keep doing that so her body can no longer produce skin and then go out with her bloodied body and people would say, “Hey, you can do better,” and “she is fat, because she has no skin so cannot be skinny,” and I’d say that I wasn’t interested because I already have the best girl.

Usher In a New Era

Those New Era caps with the flat brims really disturb me. If this the new era, what is the next new era? Where can we possibly go in cap technology that hasn’t been explored? The brim was bent downwards, now it is flat. Is the next move an upwards turned, rain collecting brim?

I do not want to see this scary new era of caps.

Two Sides To Every Story

Being ambidextrous and having to decide which limb to use must suck. There is already far too much choice in the world. I think that decision would “push me over the edge”.

Book Worm

If I wrote a book I think it would be very pretty in design and I would try and make it functional, as well as readable. Kind of like a newspaper (of fun) that can also be used as a watering can for plants and a chorizo sausage. But a book.

The contents would be all emo shit about how I fall for people I’m not really interested in and would feature many celebrity encounters, like that time I met Mandy Moore and got a CD signed but I was so nervous that I came a little in my pants and stuttered out “thank you” and then fell for her.

You’re Beautiful

I have lost count of the amount of times that James Blunt and I have used our fame and charisma to lure groupies back to a random hotel room to be roasted.

A conservative estimate would be 41. Half of those would be the older housewives looking for an escape from their mundane family life with no musical taste that he attracts, while the other half is the fucked up post-teens that don’t know the difference between love and sex and read my shit. The extra one… I dunno. Probably one of those celebrity hotbabes that heard about our roasting exploits and wanted in, literally.

He gets violent sometimes. And blames on being high. But he still knows it's wrong, man. He still knows...

The Einstein Factor

So I was watching The Einstein Factor tonight while eating dinner and something crazy happened. I was the chosen subject of one of the contestants. That’s right! Me!

The girl did quite well at answering the questions and I have a feeling she knows more about me than I do. It was a little scary, but also hot.

Unfortunately she stumbled when they asked the question “why does Jobe keep sabotaging every relationship he has?” Turns out it was a trick question because no one really knew. Not even the brains trust!

In the end she lost, since I was the only thing she knew anything about. Peter Berner laughed at her, which wasn’t very nice. Then he made a really bad joke and I turned off and went to make a milkshake.

The Dutch Test

So tonight I have this really big test in Holland. I’m really worried because this test is a good indication about how I will go in the future. My tutor is really good though, so that will help.

Oh man, so many people are expecting me to go well. So much pressure.

PS I’m currently in Holland. Be back soon.

Priority: High

Guys, I need to go to Tetsuya’s pretty soon. Like… now-ish. My faggot friends don’t want to go and don’t have enough money and are faggots. Will you accompany me? Sure you will.

NOT SO FAST!

My requirements of YOU:

• You must be fun to talk to for the course of the evening.
• Pay your half, tight arse.
• Knowledge of wine is recommended as I know very little and don’t want Tetsuya and his friends to take pity on us because we do not know anything.
• No autographs or flash photography.
• Must have a firm handshake.

Gangsta Beat For The Street

I would have to say that my favourite jazz artist named after a character in Sesame Street would have to be Grover Washington. Although Charlie “Big Bird” Parker and Miles “Snuffleupagus” Davis were both really good too.

I might make an MP3 compilation, titled 'Jazz Sounds From The Street'.