Sam and the City Sucks

Battle of the Sams

2007-08-17T11:33:00.000+10:00

Today I thought it might be nice, for a change, to showcase the work of both Fairfax Sams. One being Sam de Brito, author of All men are liars. The other being some chick who likes shoes or something. One devotes his time and energy to problems facing the modern male, including relationships, gender roles, health, porn, drugs, and some more light hearted topics. The other copies and pastes text from AskMen.com, and goes to movie openings.

Recently Sam de Brito wrote a blog entry called The Old Guy, which is about aging, wisdom, death, and hope. Some highlights include:

It's one of the sadder characteristics of Western society that just when men, and particularly women, have garnered a sense of what life is actually about, we stop listening to them.

The contempt we hold for the elderly manifests itself most potently in our attempts to reject the inevitability of the aging process, the billions we spend on cosmetic surgery, hair dye and fish oil and the looks of panicked terror when people like the man on the bus suddenly realise they've become The Old Guy

"What we fear is our own demise and indications of aging are simply unwanted reminders of our mortality. By rejecting old people and the signs of age in ourselves we are simply reacting to a natural fear of extinction that has preoccupied humans beings forever."

One of the greatest mistakes you can make at any age is to think you've nothing left to learn and though the trade-off for wisdom is diminished sexual attractiveness, health and vitality, you'd be insane to rebuff the transaction completely and opt for aging and ignorance.

The beauty of Livingston's writing is that it is underpinned by hope - that if you do the right things, the hard things - happiness and joy are the alloy you'll produce from the ore of self-discipline and self-examination.

vs.

This extract is from The Art of The Tease with Venus and Mars

Say what? Oh yes, apparently females these days like to flirt, flirt, flirt to their heart's content, teasing and titillating the poor bloke into buying her drinks, keeping her company and gyrating next to her on the dance floor. If he's lucky, he'll get a peck on the cheek during Justin Timberlake's Sexy Back.

But hold on gents. Before you attempt to tease your latest squeeze about her weight (a definite no-no!), her age (ouch!) or her choice of high heels (bad move), please beware that there's a difference between a GSOH (a good sense of humour) and downright rudeness.

Is it just me, or do you have a mental image of Gore Vidal and Adam Sandler playing Scrabble as well?

P.S. Thanks to Robbie for pointing me to Sam and the City Sux, a blog which seems to have started 12 months ago but sadly never continued.

FUCK OFF.

2007-08-16T13:48:00.000+10:00

How to He-Tox (or She-Tox!)
August 15, 2007

PISS IT.

Don't you just love bringing up the subject of an ex? Because as soon as you do, everyone around you begins proffering up salacious stories detailing how long it took them to get over their toxic ex. They explicate their previous lover's behaviour and what they did to anger them so, debate the merits of whether or not they'd go back to the scene of the crime (my advice is never!) and bitch, tut-tut and moan about their ex's new partner (even though you think they're lovely deep down).

FUCK OFF.

But when your heart has been sat on like a cheap pair of sunglasses and you'd rather eat dirt than have to go out on the prowl again (only to be groped by yet another philandering cad or tease), what's a scorned lover to do?

FUCK OFF.

James Blunt penned a song, crooning a farewell love ballad to his ex aptly titled Goodbye My Lover. The lyrics, which include the line, "I know love is blind, but my heart was blinded by you," is enough to touch the hearts of any recently dumped, heartaching, soul-destroyed, newly single singleton who knows all too well how Blunt was feeling at the time. (Even the most retrosexual of blokes can be heard giving a light sniff when the song comes on the radio.)

FUCK OFF.

Even though I was happily dating someone new at the time the song was released, listening to Blunt harp on about kissing her lips, holding her head, sharing her dreams and sharing her bed and continuing with his heartfelt plea, "I know you well, I know your smell; I've been addicted to you," was enough to bring back all those fuddy duddy feelings I thought had long been suppressed.

FUCK OFF.

Of course not all of us can punch out a Grammy-nominated ballad and mass broadcast our feelings to the entire universe in an attempt to help us get over an ex. Hence the experts have come up with another solution: the He-Tox/She-Tox diet ...

PLEASE GOD, FUCK OFF.

Why is it so effective? Because it's your chance to call the shots, says Greg Behrendt, author of It's Called a Break Up Because It's Broken. "This is about taking care of you, and putting yourself in a position where you can get through this really tough time with some measure of ease. Sixty days gives you the emotional distance necessary for total recovery."

YOU TOO, FUCK OFF.

Take my miserable friend K. After being dumped by her beau of four years and listening to endless amounts of James Blunt and sharing caramel KitKats with me, you'd think she'd be strong enough to take a stab at the He-Tox.

FUCKITY FUCK OFF.

ARSE.

Singtel

2007-08-08T08:53:00.000+10:00

Single v Settle, and which sex is more choosy?
August 1, 2007

See if this scenario rings any bells. You meet a person you like. You begin dating and you instantly hit it off. You meet their folks, holiday with their mates and think you may have found "the one".
Then calamity strikes.

While listening to the White Stripes and perving on Ryan Gosling in The Notebook, you suddenly find yourself wondering what the heck you're doing.
"Ohmigod - I could be stuck with this life forever!" you moan to yourself. And then you start to wonder if maybe you could be happier with someone else. If there could perhaps be another person out there that you're meant to be
with.

Oh man, if I had a dollar for all the times that's happened to me!

Is it just a case of lifestyle envy? Cold feet? Or something more ...

Put down the Alain DeBotton book, and step away from the reading glasses.

Of course as many singletons can attest, even before we get to the stage where we're debating over whether to settle or not to settle, there's the sticky business of the hunt. And this week, it's having Aussie women in a tizzy.

This may come as a shock, but I don't think "Samantha Brett" actually exists. The blonde chicky with the caterpillar eyebrows is nothing more than the face of Ask Sam.

Samantha Brett may actually be my 68 year old mother.

My phone became abuzz with frantic requests from talkback radio hosts asking me to give tips to panicking women as to what they can do to combat the supposed man drought in Sydney and Melbourne.

Here's my advice:
1) Stop panicking. That's why the men left in the first place. This whole 'mining boom' thing is just a ruse to get some peace and quiet.
2) Stop calling talkback radio hosts for advice.

Byth Musters

2007-07-25T13:18:00.000+10:00

Sexual myths debunked
July 25, 2007

The first paragraph of this Clog made me shoot coffee out my nose - and I finished my last cup over 4 hours ago.

Readers' questions have been pouring in, begging ASK SAM to dispel some sex, dating and mating myths.

THAT'S BECAUSE YOU KEEP PERPETUATING THEM.
THEY'RE TELLING YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Anyway, let's have a butcher's at what Sam's put on the table.

MYTH: It's healthier to sleep in the nude

FACT: It's true! Well at least according to the web portal sleepnaked.org. And while one in eight women like to get some shut-eye without any clothing on, according to a poll on the subject, 62 per cent of men do the same! Okay, so there may not be any scientific studies to back it up, but sleeping naked is said to be more comfortable and relaxing, making it easier to fall asleep in the first place, resulting in a deeper, longer sleep which enables your body to regenerate itself and have more energy the following day.

So...there...there's no actual evidence to...to...say that it is healthier, is there Sam?
MYTHBUSTING FAIL.

MYTH: Sex can make you skinny
FACT: That's right folks; apparently 30 minutes of the horizontal hanky-panky can help you burn 200 calories. Celebrity personal trainer Nicky Waterman reckons that by doing it five days a week, you're doing aerobic exercise equivalent of two and a half hours at the gym! Not to mention that having sex three times a week lowers your risk of suffering a heart attack or stroke by 50 per cent and you've got no more excuses.

This man has slept with thousands of women.

MYTHBUSTING FAIL.

MYTH: Men think about sex every seven seconds
FACT: That by the time a man finishes reading this column, he's thought about it 70 times! Not entirely true, but nevertheless close. The rumour came about after the Kinsey Institute released the results of a survey back in 1948 which found that 54 per cent men think about it every day, several times a day. (Only 4 per cent claimed they only think about it once a month.)

For you kids out there who are a few years out of high school and a bit rusty when it comes to addition and subtraction, several is indeed very close to over 8000* - remember how you were taught only a few dozen people died in World War II?
MATHEMATICS FAIL.

On a personal note, I've just been interviewed for an article on Samantha Brett which will be featured on TheSavvyGal in the next couple of weeks. I'm under no illusion that I'll be the recepient of glowing praise from a website whose logo consists of a shoe and a handbag, but we'll see how it goes.++

* Based on your average 16 hour day.
++ If it goes badly, I'll just get my system administrator friend to haxx0r teh systemz.

Trying too hard: How the noun generation do it

2007-07-18T10:01:00.000+10:00

Fast love: the art of the quickie
July 18, 2007

One thing that shits me about advertising, marketing, and mass media is the temptation to put "generation" after every-single-fucking-noun. You know the ones. The Youtube Generation. The iPod Generation. The Syphilis Generation.

In an attempt to make it look like she has insight in to humanity, Sam has adopted this technique and really made it her own. First there was "The Blog Generation", then there was "The Casual Sex Generation", now there's "The Quickie Generation"

After all, who has time these days for all the hullabaloo and hassle of lighting sweet-smelling candles, making polite small talk over a three-course meal or worse, meeting the folks, the friends and the family even before being shown the bedroom?

The cast of Pride and Prejudice?

I got to thinking about this topic after it was brought up by a bunch of blokes over wines at a friend's birthday party. (I can always count on a few boozed-up gents to give me plenty of fodder for this column.)

And Sam's column makes me want to drink! Wow! Now that's what I call the Circle of Life.

But ladies, I do have a small warning for those of you that are looking forward to bidding farewell to lengthy mid-week sessions after a 12-hour day, a pump class and an episode of Desperate Housewives still to go. Apparently the three words most hated by men during sex are these: "Are you done?"

For me it's "My water broke!"

Achin' for an A Cup

2007-07-11T21:29:00.000+10:00

A-cup of cleavage
July 9, 2007

They've been called everything from hurdy-gurdies, funny udders, angel cakes and Betty Boops to mangos, melons, jugs and FiFi's Funballs.

FiFi's Funballs? Betty Boops? Funny udders? Hurdy-gurdies? If that's not a list of Wiggles B-Sides, I don't know what is. I'm really starting to think that Sam isn't from a privileged Eastern Suburbs family at all. It's more likely she was made in the Hasbro factory from defective pony bits and surplus Care Bears.

Scarlett Johansson, the doyenne of large assets (think those sultry lips, saucer-sized aqua eyes and super-sized lashes) terms them "my girls", lamenting that they're "my charms, my feminine wiles".

And everyone from Marilyn Monroe to Victoria Beckham has concurred, deeming them symbols of femininity and sexuality.

I don't know if Sam has finally discovered irony, but if I was a chick, and I had titties like Scarlett Johansson, I wouldn't be lamenting a thing. Shit, I wouldn't even have an acting career, I'd be fired for sitting around playing with my boobs all day.

I took a quick glance around the restaurant and suddenly all I could notice was the abundance of cleavage. From the group of girls sitting to my left to the female twosome ahead of me and the waitress serving us our drinks. When I mentioned this to the blokes I was with, their faces turned into huge grins as they too began to enjoy the scenery.

I call bullshit on that. Those guys knew there were boobs-a-poppin' before they even set foot in the bar. And also, I think Sam's a lesbian.

The scene reminded me of my recent trip to New York where two single 30-something femmes (both successful TV producers) decided to show me the town.

There she goes with the dropping of the job description and social status. I can't tell if it's "girl power" pride, or some sort of social climbing middle class denial.

Anyway. Dude, how good are boobs?

Ahh, Miriam. I look forward to the day when the restraining order expires.

And finally, I'd like to give a shout out to the wonderful Lady Harsh who gave Sam a nice little shit-canning recently.

Oh the joy of my life, the joy of my days. Sam Brett, who is no longer allowed to be in the city – she must now be Ask Sam, and then people may actually realise what that is and may want to stop. Still my joy is complete because Sam Brett is wearing the exact same dress as only two weeks ago. I know Ask Sam – do you think that means like your dress sense, you’re ideas are recycled? Do you?

Pure hatred aside, I have to say this Sam Brett ensemble looks cheap and tacky. From the over extended hair to the mismatching shades of shoulder versus face tan. The ill fitting sack dress gives Sammy B a bit of stomach. But worst is the bag – while I'm sure it's actually a real Fendi, to me it looks like a $5 bargain from outside the Hard Rock Bali. I even double checked for spelling errors – Fendy, Findi, Fndi. (I'm sure there are many who wish I checked my own page with the same diligence).

Sam Brett is now on the permanent celebrity guest list. This will prove equally entertaining as well as proving that anyone can really, with little talent, be a celebrity. Sam continues to show no originality with her ten months behind the play dressing, and growing resemblance to Rachel Zoe. Wait for it, December 09, Sam’s going to start rocking the leggings. And before you say it, hell yes it's professional jealousy. I'd love an excuse to swan about and 'blog' about my modern day 'dating' dramas!

This person makes me quite mad, so I will refrain from getting too out of control!! But for just a second, indulge me – YOU ARE NOT CARRIE BRADSHAW, YOU ARE NOT SARAH JESSICA PARKER, YOU ARE NOT CANDANCE BUSHNELL, YOU ARE NOT PLUM SYKES.

Phew that feels better. For someone who is supposed to be the cool, edgy, hip girl about town, Sam looks strangely like Dannii Minogue just before she left YTT. Including the bubble skirt and massive fringe.

Now I'm not one to make outrageous claims, but I think Lady Harsh could well be the best and most important person on the internets. Ever.

Why Angelina Jolie is great and you're shithouse.

2007-07-02T21:50:00.000+10:00

As we all know celebrities are better than us, and we all need to be more like them to be happy, decent human beings. So to help you out, I've compiled a list of celebrities that have whole heartedly endorsed Sam's dating advice over the past 2 months.

So there you have it. If you're not getting a root, have a shit job and no money, it's because you're not one of the people above - although I'm not sure who the douchbag is with the pots is, I think I saw him on TV once or something. Maybe a young Peter Russell-Clarke?

Sticky Date.

2007-06-29T11:31:00.000+10:00

Where did you (or can you) meet a date? June 27, 2007

This one made me want to punch nanas. It's like Sam intentionally went all out and tried to cram as many things that piss me off as possible on to one page.

Here's my list:

Mark Philippoussis reckons he met his match on the set of a reality TV show

...my beautician friend Karen...

...Oprah Winfrey's best friend Gayle King...

That's why in a recent episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show, Oprah aimed to expound the myth that it's impossible for an over-35 singleton to find a date. "There are plenty of men out there!" encouraged her guests. "You just need to know where to find them."

Holy fucking insight, Batman!

According to Dave Singleton, author of the book titled, Behind Every Great Woman There's A Fabulous Gay Man

In news just to hand, Dave Singleton has announced the release of his follow-up book "Behind Every Gay Man There's A Distant Father And An Over Protective Mother"

I've seen dolled-up confident women head out in packs for girly cocktails in hope of meeting the man of their dreams, only to find the bar filled with other desperate femmes all batting their eyelashes at the one and only cute male in the room, who happens to be the bartender. (True story.)

Sam's gone and got her own life confused with an episode of Sex and the City again.

What kind of gal is going to have the confidence to approach a bunch of rowdy boys shouting encouragement at their favourite footy team on the pub TV with beers in their hands and thongs on their feet?

A Canterbury Bulldogs supporter?

Yes ladies, as much as we enjoy hitting the town with girlfriends over giggles and granitas.

ASfjkHLKFJ hkqjro;jq23;pqrjp3fwo'"@R!@I#!;'1Wk":~

"Straight men hang out in a pool hall," says Singleton. "After months of no dates, should you skip seeing the girly click with your gal pal in favour of having beers and hanging out with hustlers, sharks and 8-balls? Of course."

NO THANKS. WE WANT TO BE ALONE. THAT'S WHY WE GO THERE.

Or maybe not. Just today, a young single bloke told me his plan of single-female-attack. He rocks up to go the movies by himself, preferably a chick flick, and sits by himself in hope of meeting women.

KL:23oru;wqetusgou9ji4t:J#$JIT:#T:!K!''asdC

And while ladies aren't going to find any suitable gents in their yoga class doing the downward dog, the gents looking to put a little zen into their lives might have a little bit more luck. Women flock to yoga in droves skimpily clad, ready for action and feel calm, soothed and desperate for a glass of wine after all that serenity-charged babble.

And as for the femmes? The treadmill is the ideal location to scope out the talent. I've had many-a-friend meet their future beau while waiting in line to use the water cooler after a pump session.

I counted at least 100 clichés in those 2 paragraphs alone - and there's only 99 words. Seriously, how many friends would you have to have when you can say "many-a-friend" met their partners at a gym, next to a water dispensing thingy. I don't even know what a fucking pump class is! Does it involve changing tyres or something?

Self Lip-Service

2007-06-13T00:20:00.000+10:00

Can self-help really help our love lives?
June 12, 2007

There's The Rules, The Secret and no-fail tricks to getting the love you want.

We're told why men marry bitches (good girls come last), why men won't ask for directions (because of things like this) and why blokes are just not that into us.

We're advised on what to do when we're between boyfriends (carry around The Between Boyfriends Book so men know we're available), how to make women happy (feminist author Fay Wheldon surmises it's sex, shopping and chocolate), and why we always need more shoes (because they make our butts look smaller, our legs look longer and even on fat days, they always fit to perfection).

One day I'm going to go back through every single post and see how many times Sam mentions shoes. She should probably rename her blog to "Ask Shoe" or "Shoe in the City", and just have a photo of a shoe in the top right hand corner. The shoe then shares anecdotes about its fabulous shoe friends, and the shoe's solution to everything is to buy more shoes.

But back to The Secret.

Apparently it's about magnets or something.

Watching the best-selling DVD with a bunch of friends, (created by Australian television producer Rhonda Byrne), I couldn't help notice a few giggles. Was this really a big whopping secret that we hadn't all already discovered? Or was it all just a sham?

Or was it Microsoft Word combined with a bag of weed, an Orchy bottle, a length of hose, a cone, some tap water, and a lighter?

The Washington Post's Tim Watkin concurs, dubbing it "all so laughably nutty."

Watkin also reckons it would be harmless "but for the millions buying the book and DVD and the exposure that The Secret is getting from the likes of [Oprah] Winfrey and Larry King. And for the danger lurking in its philosophy".

Tim the man. "Self Help" is a misnomer. A true self help book would be nothing more than a notepad and pen. Hey, you know, that's actually not a bad idea. I could make some money out of that - Oi. What're you doing over there? Don't steal that. That's my idea! Stop! THIEF!

You're never going to find the right answers to life in a book. You cannot learn from someone else's mistakes - to do so simply shuts off another dimension of your life and your individuality. Go out, be stupid, waste money, go on the dole, go sit in a park, stare into your coffee cup, have one night stands, shoot sultanas out of your nose, feel up your mate's mum, run amok, make mistakes, do things the wrong way.

To be a well rounded human being you need to take all options open to you - not just the safe ones that someone 10,000 miles away says you should - to do anything else would be disingenuous.

8=====)~~

2007-06-11T01:20:00.000+10:00

ASK SAM: Symbols of Love
June 6, 2007 8:13 PM

Bloody hell, I go to Greece for 2 weeks and look what happens.

She's gone and dropped the whole "Sam and the City" thing, and reinvented herself as "Ask Sam" - which as we all know is false advertising, because she never actually answers questions herself - she delegates. She's like the Dalai Lama's receptionist.

"Good morning sir, how may I direct your existential crisis today?"

After reading this, and the comments, I really, really hope that there are at least a respectable amount of people out there who are capable of at least the tiniest amount of lateral thought. Some of the suggestions are just downright embarrassing.

Red Balloon Days suggest taking a sail on the water, docking at a desserted island, clinking together glasses of champagne, rocking the boat, spending the night and be whisked away the following morning for a romantic brekky for two.

Others, like my friend Daniel Mellish (featured in our video), thought it would be a good idea to surprise his girlfriend of two years with a picturesque helicopter ride to the Blue Mountains. (Good indeed!)

Get fucked it's good, it's shithouse. It's not original, it's not clever, and it's not romantic. It's noisy, cold and reeks of aviation fuel.

Come on cunts, you can do better than Hollywood's (or Red Balloon Days) tacky version of romance. You don't need to line someone else's pocket to get her hand in marriage, all to do is pay attention, and use a bit of creativity.

Oh, and what the fuck is a desserted island? Somewhere like Christmas-Pudding Island? Whippedcreamsundays?

Open up and say "Ah"

2007-05-23T09:14:00.000+10:00

I thought it was time we took a trip down memory lane and look at how Sam's unique, and original style of writing has gone from strength to strength over the past 12 months, and how it has become anything but predictable!

Ah, first loves: they're passionate, intense, obsessive, fiery and confusing.

Ah, TS: two words likely to send a shiver through the hearts and minds of coupled-up folk everywhere.

Ah, the booty call. It's the phenomenon that is sweeping the singles' scene.

Ah, the five words that daters loathe to hear. Why?

Ah, the conundrum of long distance relationships.

Ah, the mummy's boy.

Ah, the kiss: one of life's greatest pleasures.

Ah, unrequited love.

Ah, the big key-swap.

Ah, the kiss. Is it gentle, slow, probing?

Ah, sex with the ex. The last bonk. The final booty.

Ah, the age-old question grappling modern couples, as they ponder over whether they're better off tying the knot or going at life solo.

Ah, to be in love.

Ah, the thrill of the man-chase.

Ah, kissing.

Ah, the diva.

Ah, the confession session.

Ah, the sexual sorbet.

Ah, the itch.

Ah yes, the enigma of "sexual tension".

Ah yes, the rebound denier.

Ah, the aroma, the scent, the sticky-sweetness, the euphoric feeling.

Ah, the irony of it all.

Ah yes.

Ah.

Clogtroversy

2007-05-21T12:03:00.000+10:00

In the absence of any post today, I will devote some time to analyzing the alleged conduct of the SATC Slackeys at the "Sam and the City Boozer" - a more appropriate name of a support group for alcoholics and the chronically ugly I have never heard - on Friday night.

According to Slackey Lisa, Slackey Geekboy behaved inappropriately:

Geeky... you misbehaved.

Slapping without consent is not at all fine form!

NO MEANS NO!
Posted by: Lisa at May 21, 2007 8:57 AM

To which he responded:

Lisa,

2 corrections...

1. I didn't slap you, I spanked you.
2. You didn't say no.
Posted by: Geekboy at May 21, 2007 9:45 AM

Slackey alpha then joined in the admonishment:

Thank you blog boozer (anna) for putting together another enjoyable evening of merriment.
I however am going to raise an issue regarding acts of behaviour I witnessed on Friday night. I saw a number of the women (yes more then 1) at the blog meet inappropriately touched and harassed by other blogger’s. Lisa has already come out and expressed her anger at this.
From what I have been told by other females this is not the first time it has happened. Some have said nothing because they feel uncomfortable, but I am happy to raise it on their behalf as I think it is deplorable. Geekboy I don’t think this is something you should be laughing about.
It is harassment of a very ugly nature and exactly the type of attitude I am talking about. What makes you think what you did is acceptable. Women are not play things for your amusement and entertainment. Taking advantage of their friendship for your fetishes is pretty low.
Posted by: alpha at May 21, 2007 10:26 AM

Oooo. Stern.

Come on alpha, what did you seriously expect from a group of people who spend most of their working day throwing their hormones around the internet? Fox Hunting and High Tea?

But like all good dramas, this one has a happy ending:

Geekboy,
Thank you for personally apologising.

Posted by: Lisa at May
21, 2007 11:31 AM

Aww.

How to buy him Reg Grundies

2007-05-17T11:22:00.000+10:00

SAM AND THE CITY TV EP 11: How to buy her lingerie
May 16, 2007

Hands up who wants to smack that?
o/

Now, women, if you want to shop for your man, you need to shop like a man. Here are a few tips to help save you time, money, and potential embarrassment.

1. Leave it until the last possible minute much like the dentist, or commitment, we hate shopping with a passion and like to delay it as long as possible. Replacement undies are only a necessity when there are holes that our cock and/or balls can slip through. Holes in the arse are okay.

2. Be completely ignorant of sales and go on these days. Look confused and helpless when engulfed by hundreds of insane women. Be sure to trip one or two of them up when the doors open, just for a laugh.

3. Supress the urge to kill every person who rubs their oily, disease ridden carcass against you, and head straight for the undies section. Do not look at store maps. Always use racing lines when negotiating aisles, this will help save you time. Making screeching noises is optional.

4. Do not buy white undies. I shouldn't have to explain why.

5. Do not study the box for too long. Assume that underpants inside the box are the same as underpants on the outside of the box.

6. For fucks sake use cash. Do not use credit cards, this not only delays and annoys the people behind you, but you run the risk of being the unwilling participant in an inane conversation with the bag jockey behind the counter.

7. Jerk off when you get home to release the tension. Wear new undies when finished.

Harbinger of Groom

2007-05-15T00:08:00.000+10:00

Beware of the groomzilla
May 13, 2007

Seriously, how much does 'Harbinger of Groom' shit all over 'Beware of the groomzilla'?

So this is a Clog about another marketing buzzword. It has some statistics or something, a link to some chick whose last name is Wang - it's funny because her last name is a penis - and the usual posse of unhappy, unloved and unemployed Sam Lackeys (I call them Slackeys) throwing their hormones around the intertube in an attempt to compensate for their offline inadequacies by appearing confident, funny and quirky online.

One thing that did catch my eye, apart from Sam's massive thighs, was a statistic from Bride to Be magazine suggesting the average Australian wedding as of 2006 was $39,000.

$39,000 for music I could hear in any chinese restaurant.
$39,000 for 3 Rolls Royces when a few $3.20 tram tickets would be far more charming.
$39,000 for 4 speeches that contain the words "I'd like to thank ya's all for comin'"
$39,000 for a confused waiter who doesn't understand that Vegetarians don't eat chicken.

I can't explain how is this country still able to do so well in economic terms when irresponsible, narcissistic retards can drop this sort of cash on a glorified Blue Light Disco? However, there is a distinct possibility that the average was skewed by Lleyton and Beck's abortion of a wedding - or, more likely, that "Louie Louie" has become a popular wedding waltz, and Zombie John Belushi is roaming the earth, gorging himself on bride flesh and drinking reception centre bars dry.

Imbecexual

2007-05-11T00:08:00.000+10:00

SAM AND THE CITY TV Ep 10 - What women want next: the technosexual?
May 9, 2007

Marketing 101: To sell a product, any product, take a word that ends with "o" and append "sexual" to create a new and exciting consumer buzzword. E.g. A man who appreciates great literary works is known as an Othellosexual, a man of Irish origins is known as a Potatosexual, and a man who works in a music shop is known as a Pianosexual.

Think for a moment of Hollywood star Jude Law (which isn't all that difficult to do). He's hot. He's bad. He's irresistibly sexy. But did you know he was also the original "technosexual" icon?

No, he wasn't. Everybody knows it was Matthew Broderick in War Games. Geez.

He knows how to navigate everything from our bodies to our Blackberries, can carry a conversation about anything from art to artichokes, and still looks good while he does it.

Art to Artichokes eh? I feel for the poor bastard should the topic of Aqueducts or ASCII ever arise.

Montalvo's official definition of the techno is this: "A dandyish narcissist in love with not only himself, but also his urban lifestyle and gadgets; a straight man who is in touch with his feminine side but has fondness for electronics such as cell phones, PDAs, computers, software, and the web."

Dave's definition is some cunt with an IQ of 100 that doesn't appreciate the genius that went in to creating those gadgets.

Woman needed him to know how to use moisturiser (god knows why), where the nearest David Jones was (incase he wanted to buy himself a Polo shirt) and how to wax that sinister looking mono brow. (Some went so far as to get the Brazilian bikini wax - for men!) Yes, the metrosexual had entered into our lexicon.

The metrosexual may have entered the popular lexicon, but only because some guy had a few 40ft containers full of moisturiser he needed to ditch. Solution: Bundle it in blue tubes and scribble the words "For Men" on it.

But then the technology revolution hit.
Women bought themselves laptops, Blackberries, mobile phones, PDAs and iPods. And there was only one catch: they had no clue how to use them!

It seems like someone needs a history lesson. Everyone over the age of 25 knows that the technological revolution hit when blackberries came in punnets, mobile phones were something you threw at your wife when she didn't wash your undies, a PDA was some kind of foot fungus, and "Ipod" was just a typo.

The age/old question: Part 2

2007-05-08T18:14:00.000+10:00

I just found this comment at the very end of the post:

Why don't you get your head out your ass and write about something that actually matters you stupid bitch. If a woman wants to have a relationship with someone that's their choice, who the fuck are you to question that? The fact that you judge people by their appearance just shows how shallow you are and how much of a gossiping bitch you are. It's really brave of you to hide behind your articles, picking on people who are the easiest to pick on. If you want i'll say it to your face track me down bitch. Typical reporter, or whatever the hell you are. P.S. youre fucking ugly and i hope you get your fingers & tounge ripped off cause thats what you deserve.

This guy must be mates with (or is) one of the mods. Awesome. I love the "track me down bitch" part. I'm gunna put that on a t-shirt.

How to discount groups of men based on shallow observations

2007-05-08T09:41:00.000+10:00

How to tell a naked man (or woman) what to do
May 7, 2007

Just so we're clear up front, Sam added "(or woman)" as a token gesture so she didn't appear to be saying that men are the only sex who desperately need help when it comes to fucking - which, as all men know, is bullshit. We've all slept with at least one starfish in our time.

Dave's Awesome Fuck Tip For All The Bitches #1:
Kissing non-stop for 2 hours is boring. Stop it.

Here we have a "How To" sex guide written by a woman, for women, designed to help them get what they want. This book has been described as empowering and positive. I wonder, if the book was written by a man, for men, designed to help men get what they want - would it be described as archaic, insensitive and unrealistic?

Dave's Awesome Fuck Tip For All The Bitches #2:
Crying 2 minutes after sex about how daddy didn't love you is not a turn on - despite the fact you're naked and saying "Daddy". Also, we don't care.

Those tired old myths that some women rely on to be able to guage how good a root a man is have resurfaced - now with even more stupid! Apparently it's not just if we can dance, or what kind of drink we like but it's how we drive, and how we quickly eat our food. Next it'll be how many fingers we use to open the car door, or how long we take to shit. Well I say two can play at this game.

Dave's Awesome Tip For Spotting A Top Fuck Buddy #1:
If she's dainty and drinks a cocktail, she'll probably be afraid of your dick and touch it like it's some kind of alien earth worm. If she drinks longnecks, she'll probably be able to suck a Fiat through thirty feet of garden hose. If she sniffs petrol and smells like stale, chances are she won't remember all those nasty things you're going to do to her.

P.S. I got bored today and felt like abusing retards, so I'm probably about one post away off being banned on SATC. But that's okay, Movable Type's banning engine is shite and there's plenty of ways around it. Madlove having logins all over the world.

The age/old question or: How to accidentally expose your workmates

2007-05-03T23:21:00.000+10:00

ASK SAM FRIDAY: Mature men or simply too old?
May 3, 2007

By now I would've thought most of Samantha Brett's work colleagues would give her a wide berth as she approached them in the hallway - and not just because of her fat thighs - it seems almost everyone she works with, and the most intimate details of their personal life, end up being spilled all over the pages of The Age website for her horde of devotees to devour.

Sometimes she will use a pseudonym if the subject wishes to remain anonymous. In this case, we have "Donald". It seems that "Donald" might be a bit embarrassed if his work colleagues found out about his new relationship. So let's review what all of us now know about "Donald":

1) He is 39.
2) He doesn't look a day over 24.
3) He is 'rapidly approaching' 40.
4) He is divorced.
5) He has 2 children.
6) He recently attended a wedding, where he snogged a 21 year old bridesmaid.
7) He is now dating said bridesmaid.
8) He is a senior producer for the same media organisation as Sam.
9) He is walking around the office with a big smile on his face.

Hmm.

Here's an idea for an exciting new television show I've been working on. It's called Samantha Brett - Witness Protection Specialist. In the first episode she saunters in to the office of the head of the Witness Protection Program and tells her boss that a lot of witnesses have started to "disappear". On an unrelated note, she excitedly tells him that her weekly newspaper column "Witness Protection - Success Stories" has now received national syndication.

Shit storm

2007-05-01T22:57:00.000+10:00

Why beautiful women date 'shitty' men
May 1, 2007

Man bashing, ho! I mean, man bashing ho!

It's our turn, again, because apparently all the shitty men are snapping up all the beautiful women. Which I disagree with, there's plenty of us shitty men left without girlfriends, wives, or prospects for the future. So nyer. Alas, I really shouldn't criticise Sam, or defend my brothers - after all one of my favourite sites is Hot Chicks with Douchebags.

Yet, fiction aside, it makes me furious to read so often about beautiful, successful women who continually jeopardise themselves, their careers and their wellbeing in order to prove something to themselves and to the world by cavorting with some low-life cad.

Where are these chicks, and why am I not meeting them? Is there an Absolutely Secret Shitty Men's Underground Society I can join? I want my ASSMUS Pass!

Also who, besides actors in British Period Dramas, uses the word cad?

In the interests of being fair and balanced, I feel compelled to shine the spotlight on some shitty women. Sam mentioned Kevin Federline - the überdouche - so I'll see her Kevin Federline, and raise her a Britney Spears.

Now it's hard to keep up with which celebrities are married to who these days so I thought I'd just log on to RSVP.com.au to find some shitty women - and may I just say - PAYDIRT!

Before we start, you will need to make up a bingo scorecard so you can tick off terms like "Outgoing", "Fun-loving", "Anything I can dance to!", "RnB","Da Vinci Code", "Sex and the City", "Curled up on the couch", "Anything except heavy metal!" and "Chocolate!!!"

Our first cab off the rank is Miss32

Vital Stats: 32, 5'5", and lives in Melbourne.
Tagline: "Girl searching for boy...how hard can it be?? 33 and single? Must say taking longer than planned at age 16!!! LOL"
Summary: She's "funny and outgoing", likes Wolfmother, Sex and the City, and reading crime novels.
First impression: Not too bad, except her mouth looks like God's hand slipped when she was being assembled.
Judgment: FAIL.

Next up is GaussianBlur

Vital Stats: 27, 5'3", Blue Eyes, Dark Brown Hair.
Tagline: "Outgoing dancer looking for a partner in crime... or someone prepared to hide the evidence." - She sounds dangerous.
Summary: She likes dancing, quiet dinners, drinks, or curling up on the couch with a DVD.
First impression: Cute, but loses major points for saying that Death Metal (the bestest music genre in the whole wide world) is somehow not good enough to sit amongst her The Waifs and Goldfrapp CDs.
Judgment: FAIL.

Eating her way in to 3rd spot is Kymmy76

Vital Stats: 30, 5'7", Blue eyes, Blonde hair, 5 chins.
Tagline: "Is this really the new way of meeting people?" - she seems confused and disoriented, quick someone get this woman some jelly babies!
Summary: She loves family gatherings with lots of food, mainstream music, reading Candace Bushnell, and Sex and the City (she has the box set).
First impression: Had the urge to eat a rice cake.
Judgment: AUTOMATIC FAIL.

Coming in at a respectable 4th is Jec83

Vital Stats: 23 (yeah right), 5'6", cold dead eyes, blonde hair
Tagline: "Im a single gal who loves having fun!"
Summary: She likes house, RnB, reading magazines, Dirty Dancing, Sex and the City, and loves running - presumably after the doctor that gave her that hair transplant.
First impression: Had the urge to change all my locks and hide my bunny.
Judgment: FAIL

Our penultimate contestant tonight is ELL2006

Vital Stats: 34, 5'8", green eyes, blonde hair, red skin.
Tagline: "Yeah I know... but you're here too!! " - the online dating equivalent of "I know you are but what am I!"
Summary: She loves reggae, RnB, reading girly trash, watching chick flicks, doing pilates and skydiving - as evidenced by her terminal velocity ravaged face.
First impression: Get that woman some aloe vera!
Judgment: FAIL

And finally, bonbananas

There is no god. :(

From my cold, dead hands

2007-05-01T00:03:00.000+10:00

ASK SAM FRIDAY: Boys and their toys
April 26, 2007

Last week's blog expounding relationship deal breakers, caused a massive stir amongst the readers with a record 900 comments across both blogs.

800 of which were the same 40 people each posting 20 times.

So when a question richoteted into my inbox from Melbourne blogger MSG, I thought it appropriate to put it out there to you, considering it touches on a deal breaker that wasn't discussed in last week's comments.

Uh oh. MSG. You may remember her from this post. The woman who can't seem to construct a coherent word, let alone a sentence. Sam must be really scraping the bottom of the idea barrel to listen to this train-wreck. I guess it's easier to shine the spotlight in the shallow end of the gene pool.

Her deal breaker? Men who own guns and use them to hunt.

Now it's hard to come across statistics on gun ownership in Australia, but a cursory search showed there are around 170,000 register gun owners in New South Wales, which has a population of around 6.8 million.

That's 2.5% of the New South Wales population.

Now the actual percentage of those gun owners who hunt for sport wouldn't be that great, given my exposure to the sporting shooters fraternity over the past 19 years.

Out of the dozen odd clubs I've been to, I'd say 10% went hunting once or twice a year shooting rabbits. But I'll be generous, let's say 20%.

That's 0.5% of the New South Wales population.

Now we'll take in to account the amount of single people in that group. I don't doubt Sam's figures of "4 million Australian" singles for a second, so we'll use that as our benchmark - 20% of the Australian population. For laziness' sake, we'll use that figure for New South Wales too or something.

That's 0.1% of the New South Wales population.

It's not really fair of me to break that percentage straight down the middle to exclude the women, although there are women that hunt, so I'll only deduct 10% - also catering for old bastards that no woman would touch regardless of his sport of choice, and teenagers who look like a Dominos hot bag exploded in their face.

That's 0.09% of the New South Wales population, or about 60,000 blokes.

You'd also have to account for the fact that gun toting blokes generally don't go anywhere near the inner city, and wouldn't know the difference between a Fluffy Duck and Toilet Duck, we'll probably have to deduct about 75% - I should really be a government statistician - so that leaves us with 15,000 blokes.

Now we take in to account the odds of MSG not only having the opposable thumbs to open a door, but meeting someone who manages to hang around long enough to understand what the hell she is talking about, then we end up with a probability of roughly:

1 in eleventy jillion.

Now I've forgotten what my point was, but that's a big number.

"The society we live in today provides us with meat that can easily be bought. We don't need to physically go out there and shoot animals, am I right? Do some men have a need to kill? Is there something that drives them to do this and gain immense enjoyment out of it?"

Now to some of you, that may sound like a reasonably pertinent question - but if I rearrange it like this, we get the answer she has been looking for.

"We don't need to physically go out there and shoot animals, am I right? Do some men have a need to kill? Is there something that drives them to do this and gain immense enjoyment out of it? The society we live in today provides us with meat that can easily be bought."

Some men feel the need to be connected to something greater than a shopping trolley and styrofoam trays. Some men don't want to live a sterile, automated, cotton-balled, and shrink-wrapped existence. Some men find the industrialised slaughter of animals more sickening than doing it themselves. Some men still want to be what society dictates they should no longer be.

And some men are just jerks.

Personally, I find both practices abhorrent - but no less abhorrent than New Weekly, or the makeup counter at David Jones. Or the smell coming from those shoes I bought in Malaysia.

"Is this the interference?"

2007-04-25T01:15:00.000+10:00

ASK SAM FRIDAY: When in-laws intervene
April 20, 2007

With the latest hullabaloo surrounding the abrupt end of Prince William's five-year union with Kate Middleton, I got to wondering about the role families can play in determining the future happiness of a relationship.

Perhaps instead of thinking about someone elses love life (someone you don't know might I add), you should've checked under "C:\Documents and Settings\Princess\Desktop\Sam's Finger Paintings\" for your previous efforts entitled "When family meddle in your relationship" and "Should you ever intervene in a friend's relationship?"

Perhaps Mark Twain was right when he once said, "Adam was the luckiest man; he had no mother-in-law."

I thought I had heard that quote somewhere before. Somewhere familiar. So I went searching and found this:

After all, as Mark Twain once said, "Adam was the luckiest man; he had no mother-in-law."

Source

It seems Precious is so consumed with other peoples relationship problems, it's gone completely unnoticed that she's repeating herself over, and over again!

It seems Precious is so consumed with other peoples relationship problems, it's gone completely unnoticed that she's repeating herself over, and over again!

X is having more sex than Y

2007-04-16T12:25:00.000+10:00

SAM AND THE CITY TV: A fetish for redheads
April 11, 2007

Ah, the fetish. Known as an obsessive fixation on either an object or a body part, it's that enigmatic concept which ranges from the obvious and the innocent - shoes, feet, hands and hair - to the kinky, the dirty and the just plain weird (think lipstick, leather and Victoria Secret underwear - on blokes).

Sammy, if cross dressing blokes is the weirdest thing you can think of, then I think it's time you paid a visit to my place. I'll show you how much fun a scalpel, clamps and excess elbow skin can be. I...I may need to watch my nasal fisting videos though. You know, to like, get off or whatever.

As an astute (and cute) reader pointed out, I had a bit of deja vu when reading this Clog. Stay tuned for Brunettes and Albinos next week.

Freud (rumoured father of fetish) reportedly had an obsession with ancient Egypt. Celebrity chef Rachael Ray's husband allegedly has a spit and foot fetish. (Apparently it ain't that rare either.) Reader with the nickname Dr Nick Riviera says he has an acute appreciation of plunging tops and dresses "because I like looking at girls in them".

First off, fetishes were around a long, long time before Freud ever hit the scene - so he's more like that distant 3rd cousin you only see once every five years who has that weird skin condition. Secondly I wouldn't particularly class oggling cans as a particularly kinky fetish. Thirdly, it sounds like "Dr Nick" is about 6 months old and is just looking for a free meal. "Because I like looking at girls in them" - worst justification ever.

While I admit I've no personal experience in the redhead sector, I'm confident
there's truth to the findings of Hamburg sex researcher, Dr Werner Habermehl,
who profiled the sex lives of hundreds of German women.

I dunno man, I don't think I could trust anyone whose name is an anagram of "HA BLEW HER MEN ERR".

The results? The professor told the Daily Mail that his survey uncovered the startling news that it's the cherry-haired chicks who have more partners and more regular sex than the average woman.

This study is flawed. Obviously Lindsay Lohan was surveyed (which would've skewed the results something chronic, if you believe the trash mags) and then used the average rather than the mean. Bad Dr. Harboursmell! Bad!

Iron my shirts, bitch!

2007-04-15T11:02:00.000+10:00

ASK SAM FRIDAY: When neat freaks and slobs collide
April 12, 2007 8:00 PM

First off, I hope "ASK SAM FRIDAY" doesn't enter the popular lexicon any time soon. Secondly, going back through all the Clogs Sam has posted, I'm starting to notice a trend - all of her friends have serious emotional disturbances. Check out this arsefarmer:

A mate of mine, who we'll call Jim, has a disease he likes to call "mess-aphobic". So much so that going camping with his mates for the weekend is an absolute nightmare. "I can't tell them to clean up or they think I'm a bit of a loser," he tells me, "but I can't stand the mess either. It drives me crazy!"

Thankfully, he's recently moved in with an equally freakish neat freak.

When I recently went over to visit their new pad, he was trimming the trees on the balcony so the outside would look neater while she was in the laundry busily ironing the shirts and the towels. (Who irons towels?)

I agree, who the fuck irons towels?! It's people like that that stop the human race from evolving.

An experiment in ugliness

2007-04-03T19:20:00.000+10:00

How to be more attractive to the opposite sex
April 2, 2007

Sam's gone out on a limb here and given us her opinion on something - what it takes to be attractive to the opposite sex. So let's step through them shall we, and ignore her usual hyperbole.

Stop whinging and get up off your couch. No one has ever met the love of their life by watching Simpsons re-runs on a Saturday night - alone. When singles whinge about their situation and stand in corners looking glum, no fellow singleton (who is sober) is going to waltz up and ask to buy them a drink. Why? Because we're attracted to people who smile, laugh and are confident in their own skin. So stand in the middle of the room, dance by yourself, look in control of your life (especially if you feel you're not) and I guarantee your luck will start to change...

For once I will agree with Sam - having confidence has done wonders for my love life. I even managed to convert a lesbian!*

Stop trawling bars Walking ar-

I'll just stop you there - no fuckin' way lady.

Get a sense of humour I once dated a guy whom I had to shake every so often in the hope of making him laugh. Ladies and lads, laugh at yourself. I beg you, stop being so serious. Life is meant to be enjoyed, not to be frightened of. Take a quick glance at any Sam and the City poll in regards to what characteristic is most attractive in the opposite sex, and you'll find a sense of humour beats out a tight butt every time.

Humour beats out a tight butt every time - did anyone else just get a mental image of Ross Noble trying to punch his way out of an arse, or is it just me?

Run. Dance. Swim. Whatever! Speaking of taut buns, working up a sweat induces endorphins. You feel good, you look good, you get confident and things spiral onwards from there. You don't have to spend hours at the gym (quite frankly that gets rather boring) but 30 minutes a day is all you need to look and feel good. Plus there are a number of hotties at the gym, down at the beach and at the local swimming pool. Don't be shy!

Have you been to a gym lately? The ratio of fat sweaty ugly people vastly outnumbers any hotties - even then you're seeing the hotties at their worst. Sweaty butt crack, unflattering tights, no makeup.

Get a wingman (or woman) Lads, never underestimate the power of a good wingwoman. That's because girls love men who already have women interested in them. It's something in our DNA that makes us thrive on the knowledge that this guy has been pre-screened by one of our own kind. Just make sure she isn't secretly in love with you and is trying to sabotage your game. Or if she is, and you're into her too, then lady-hunting problem is solved.

The term wingman was ruined the minute the writers of Top Gun put pen to paper.

Smell good Experts claim that men are attracted to women who smell of cinnamon
and vanilla, while a liquorice-smelling scent gets the female pheromones going
at full speed. Perhaps you might want to do a little baking before you head out
the door for a big night out. Just don't spill any on your new shirt ...

Thanks Sam! I'll put a bag of licorice all-sorts down the front of my duds next time I'm out!

* She defected back 12 months later though.

Yes, your arse does look big in that.

2007-03-29T22:18:00.000+10:00

Honesty vs Sensitivity
March 27, 2007

"Does my butt look big in these jeans?" "Honey, do you like my new dress?" "Am I putting on weight?" "Do you really still love me?"

"Do my eyebrows look big in this?"

(Thanks to Mr. B for coming up with this idea - bastard, wish I'd thought of it.)

Why men don't have a clue or something

2007-03-26T22:44:00.000+10:00

Men and ogling: the urge to perve
March 25, 2007

Did you know women spend over 17 years of their life complaining about how crap men are at just about everything except changing spark plugs? That's right fellas, our worst suspicions have finally been confirmed: women whinge about us more often than we thought - which, as we all know, was a bee's dick off 'non-stop' to start with.

According to a survey by Naprogesic, the average woman complains about 7 blokes a day for roughly 24 minutes at a time. The first thing a woman bitches about? The last thing we did that wasn't done exactly the way they wanted it - even though the instructions given to us were painstakingly designed to be vague and ambiguous so as to trap us in to making a mistake, thereby exposing our flaws, and giving them the opportunity to break us down in to a nothing more than a broken, empty shell, to be rebuilt in to something that represents a decent and productive member of a civilised matriarchal society.

This can be expressed through simple programming:

public class Woman {
 public Woman(Man boyfriend) {
  if (boyfriend != null) {
   int fight = 0;
   bool whinge = true;
   boyfriend.WillToLive = 2147483647;

   while (whinge) {
    fight++;
    boyfriend.WillToLive -= fight;
   }
  }
 }
}

While no one is immune from being whinged at (especially if you crack one through the covers while copping gobbies from the missus), a quick straw poll (hehe. poll.) at the pub finds that many blokes loathe being nagged.

"Shits me." barked one. "Dude, how good are boobs?" declared another. "I came here on the bus" sniffed the third.

Yet to me, it seems a little unfair that blokes who suffer the same flaws as everyone else get pegged with the 'good for nothing layabout useless hopeless small dicked fuckface' tag.

Surely women are partly to blame? We're the ones who are driving progress, discovering profound scientific breakthroughs, creating music and art that changes the world, doing mad burnouts, and wearing thongs. What're they doing? Trying to look like Paris Hilton and starting lifestyle blogs about trying to look like Paris Hilton.

Allan Pease, author of Why Men Don't Have A Clue, And Women Always Need More Shoes, says the answer is simple: he is a cynical bastard traitor who's only doing this to pay for his wife's dental work, and facial reconstructive surgery to make her look more like Marilyn Manson.

Sam and the City Sucks TV: Episode 3

2007-03-22T14:13:00.000+11:00

Sam and the City TV: Ep. 3 - Sex and Chocolate
March 21, 2007

"OMG HAI 2 U!"

Sam gets a bit peckish 4 seconds in to filming.

Now that's the face of a woman who doesn't care how she looks when she eats, and I think that's fantastic.

Apparently the ancient Aztecs thought the avocado resembled a pair of testicles. Man, I hope those guys had supportive undies.

Nice balls, Sam?

Also, apparently raspberries are supposed to represent nipples.

Oh, you like those too do ya? You like a bit of titty action? Oh yeah, you're a bad girl.

And the oyster?

If I wasn't at work I'd so photoshop a pair of spread legs into that shot.

Actually, you could probably photoshop in some cock and balls too. Praise be to well timed screenshots and an underused imagination!

Trepidation of Devoir: It's not expressly the swain!

2007-03-20T23:01:00.000+11:00

Fear of commitment: it's not just the men
March 20, 2007

Sales of Sam's book must be going through the roof, because she's obviously splashed out on a bigger and better Thesaurus!

Have you ever stopped to ask the question why so many women believe in the man drought theory? Are there truly not enough blokes out there for the swarms of Aussie women on the hunt for a decent mate? Or, are chicks these days simply just as commitment phobic as the men they're after?
If you thought commitment-phobia was only the reserve of blokes, think again.

It never really occurred to me before that women weren't infallible, and suffered from the same kind of fears and existential crises as men. Thanks, Sam!

In the words of one of America's greatest thinkers - Sal - "We're all scared, it's the human condition. Why do you thinks I puts on this tough-guy facade? Now beat it!"

She'd dabbled in a succession of unexclusive, uneventful relationships; affianced in more than a few one night stands and had been playing the dating field with all the prowess and gall of a modern day Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Affianced! Fwoar!

Now I didn't have a fancy education, and on more than one occasion I ate my glue stick, so I don't know what affianced means - so I had to look it up on thesaurus.reference.com. Oh hey look! It comes up as the first suggestion when you type in 'Engaged'! Wow!

It's fortunate for Sam that she grew up in a well-to-do family - because instead of using blue collar words like said, book, and engaged - she is able to make us all look like cretins by using words like intoned, tome, and affianced! Lucky we have Sam to point out how crap we are. You should feel thankful, dumbass.

I hear endless stories of women dumping perfectly legitimate gents for a bevy of bizarre reasons running the gamut from "He's perfect on paper but maybe he's too perfect?" to "He has weird feet", "He does this stupid thing with his nose", and "He asked me to move in with him but I just can't do it!"

Can you imagine what Australia would be like if the ANZACs were like this? France would be giving us shit for being pussies.

You could blame the anti-commitment trend on the fact that modern femmes reckon it's their duty to jump on the feminist bandwagon to pursue a lucrative career. Of course it's been drummed into their minds that all this would never be possible if they settled down, got hitched and popped out three kids.

Because we all know that earning a wage is purely a noble and altruistic pursuit.

Or perhaps they've been burned one too many times by these modern-day commitment-phobic men, to commit themselves wholly to someone else ever again.

Or maybe it's the other way around?

The trouble, I believe, with women sticking to sexual flings and refusing to commit is the outcome: exhaustion and loneliness.
True, no one wants to be vulnerable, feel out of control or find themselves sobbing into a giant bar of chocolate with a broken heart and a cheating beau.

Is it just me, or is that mental image fucking hilarious? I wish I could draw. Someone should totally draw what I'm seeing in my head right now:

1) Sam Brett
2) Untamed eyebrows
3) 1 kilo block of Cadbury
4) Snot

It's like, seriously, the funniest thing ever.

Putting the spin in spinster

2007-03-20T22:11:00.000+11:00

Living alone and loving it
March 19, 2007

This is a special guest piece by Andy who is better with the written word than I am, is better at scrabble than I am, has one more ~~girlfriend~~ fiancée than I do, and also has a cat that smells nice and is pretty.

Orson Welles once intoned...

... That middle school mathematics had no place in a successful blogging career.

(I heard the last thing he 'intoned' was "For fucks sake, call an ambulance!" - Dave)

A quarter of all people in the US live alone. A The New York Times survey found 51 per cent of American women are lone-living too.

Somewhere out there, in anytown USA, there is, at best, one dude living on his own, according to Sam. And that's accounting for a one or two per cent error in the statistics.

(There's also a bit of a difference between 'living alone' and 'living without a spouse' as the NY Times article indicated. Just imagine all those Sorority Houses in Universities across America, full of young fresh faced girls in tiny undies and bras that are a size or two too small having pillow fights, and getting all 'experimental' with the kissing, and the oil and the...oh yes. - Dave)

But wait, there's so much more:

A study conducted by the Institute For Public Policy Research in the UK found that out of 1142 respondents, a staggering 96 per cent of people living alone reckoned it was important to do so before settling down, and less than half of the women polled said they sometimes feel lonely.

You might think that link – you know, the one around an institute with a fancy name – goes to some long-winded report. But no, it goes to www.findarticles.com, a site which allows you to search an archive of vacuous tabloid and lifestyle pages for specific keywords. Covering your tracks in the hunt for flimsy discussion topics just isn't Web 2.0, it would seem.

Even reading from the Report Lite™ version, Sam can't get her facts right:

Yet when it came the blokes, it seems there's an entirely different story unfolding. A whopping 55 per cent of them said they felt lonely living alone, and preferred regular "casual" contact with others.

For a start, the article said 56 per cent of men said they were sometimes lonely. And that whopping difference in numbers? "Less than half" of women felt the same way, Sam said, and in this she was right. A whopping two per cent less than half.

Facts notwithstanding, Sam offers one possible answer to her imaginary problem:

Of course the blokes have other obstacles to deal with, namely doing their own washing, shopping, cooking and cleaning.

And why do blokes have these mysterious obstacles to deal with? Well, according to reader Sally...

"There's no-one to check where I've been, when I'll be home or why I haven't packed away the groceries since last Tuesday. There's no-one moseying about, questioning why the dishwater hasn't been unpacked, my dirty laundry is still on the floor and complaining about the fact that I've eaten all the chocolate in the entire apartment. Thank goodness for solo living!"

Thank goodness!
(I'd like to know exactly how the fuck one "unpacks" dishwater - Dave)

Sally is proof that the sad-single-bacheloress-tag, once associated with those femmes living on their own without a spouse or kids, has gone the way of Britney's singing career.

That's right. It got worse.
(Let's hope it turns into a porn career! - Dave)

Ratsack

2007-03-13T15:13:00.000+11:00

Female predators and the rat race
March 12, 2007

hehe. sack.

Sex, they say, is best served to those who have waited for it.

No one says that. Ever. And do you know why? Because it's stupid.

When I picked up the latest issue of Scientific American Mind magazine, my fears were confirmed when I read a piece by writer David Dobbs who likened men and sex to a study on rats:

Don't lie - it was New Weekly citing Scientific American Mind magazine, right?

There's not much else to shit on here, this is another rehashed version of other topics such as Why men love the thrill of the chase, What your drink says about you, and Lust, Lies and Legs: What your body language says about you.

So I guess I'll just point out how retarded MSG (Dragon Slayer) - one of Sam's page fillers - is.

Hahaa see bach, I just thought of the perfect place to meet people - at the winetasting! You stand there empty glass in the hand gyrating your hips to the beat of the grapes, rosey cheeked and happy.

I let out a giggle after reading that, my colleague turned around and gave me a look!That’s it, were carnal. CARNAL hahahaaahaaa (best Vincent Price voice) Muahahahaha

?@? Well....if he was super duper attractive (to me) I don't know, I'd offer to marry him? Naahh, make him dinner? I mean, that's the least I could do if he is 'offering to buy me a house, a car and a holiday'. I would decline, politely, and move away as he is obviously still high on left over drugs from the long weekend.Hang on a sec.. . .what sort of a car, house? Are we talking Europe? Monaco? MOnte Carlo? There are plenty of women who would take the money and run from suckers who are willing to give it away. But maybe theyre not suckers, maybe theyre just poor lonely souls with lots of money and don't know what to do with it... . or with whom. Are you prince charming in disguise pj? By the way I stayed in my pj's all day yesterday...

What the heck’s a sychophant pray tell?
Is it you?
and anyway, what's cooking?
got any raunchy stories today?

Wow. It must be like a tornado in that head.

STOP PRESS As I've mentioned previously, in the interests of longevity, Sam and the City has been cut back to three days a week. This means I'll be posting three days a week, plus Sam and the City TV on the fourth, and I'll try and post an Ask Sam reader's question too. Thanks to everyone for your amazing continued support! Love Sam.x

I'm not sure if this is good news or bad. Good because it gives me episodes of Sam and the City TV to take the piss out of - hilarious screen shots will ensue. Bad in the sense that it won't implode as quickly as we'd hoped.

Can't someone else do it?

2007-03-10T15:54:00.000+11:00

ASK SAM - One night stands
March 8, 2007

Hot damn, this sounds like an opportunity to find out if Sam has any opinions of her own - or if she is merely a Perl bot programmed to search Google, Amazon, and Wikipedia for dating and relationship information.

Do you have a relationship issue? A confusing romance scenario? A dating question for Sam? Let us know your situation (by emailing Sam) and the bloggers will endeavour to answer it! Each week we'll be posting a new blogger's question...

Damn. No dice.
And now, on with "ASK EVERYONE EXCEPT SAM"

"Dear Sam,
I would like to get your opinion on one night stands.I am very inexperienced in this sector - a number of my mates (males) are into doing them and as many as possible. I myself really do not see the logic. Waking up with someone you do not know - after being intimate with them I think would be pretty strange. A number of my mates do not seem to care and they put it down as a root. I can sort of understand this for men to a degree as some men have less feelings when it comes to sex.

But my real question is the girls who do this.

I always thought that the girls who do this were quite wild and that I they just did it because that was what they did. Until recently that is what I thought. Then a few months ago I was involved in a conversation with friends (girls) and a comment was made that one of my friends had recently had a number (2) roots while on an overseas trip. I was quite suprised as I did not think that all girls or many girls did that sort of thing. It actually suprised me and I got quite upset. I liked the girl and there was some attraction between us - but I just did not expect that sort of thing from her.

What goes though a girls mind when she has a one night stand? I think having a kiss is OK but having sex with someone you have just met - well that is foreign to me.

Can your bloggers give me some light on this subject? If nice girls are doing this that is scary for me.

Any comment would be great,

Regards,
ML"

I like how he (she?) assumes that men are the ones having the one night stands, yet girls don't do that sort of thing. Who the hell are these guys rooting then Captain Genius?

With the release of Sam's book 'Sam and the City - How the blog generation do it' (which has been referred to as a 'sharp-witted manifesto' - in the same way that MySpace is a hotbed of philosophical debate) something has started to bother me. Sam has published advice and stories from her loyal blogees - I would hope with their consent - and will probably, and deplorably, make her a nice bit of cash.

My question is will they be receiving their share of the royalties? Were they invited to the book launch? (Which by all accounts was attended by the "who's not" of Sydney's Social Scene) And is there anything actually new, or has she just copied and pasted all her Clogs into word and vetted the comments? Do you dare me to go out and actually buy this book so we can find out?*

Finally, thanks to Andy for pointing out this page on Sam's website. It details praise she has received from 2 very special sources: LOL technology, and Nourishing Obscurity.

(* Please don't, I'm scared)

The Majesty of Editing

2007-03-08T13:43:00.000+11:00

SAM AND THE CITY TV EP 1
March 7, 2007

Today we review Episode 1 of Sam and the City for 2007.

Our host

Miss Universe

Sam goes on to interview some 'average' men about where they would take Jennifer Hawkins on a date.

As you can see, Sam's got all the bases covered for average:
Stoner? Check.

Funny-chubby guy? Check.
30something-pretending-to-be-20something-guy? Check.
Guy who still lives with his mum? That's a big check.
Token black guy? Check.
Never-ventured-above-middle-management guy? Check.

Ms Hawkins then goes on to give us poor guys her top three tips for dating.

Don't cover up the fact that you have a lazy eye, she will see right through it.

You could be funny - or get her completely trolleyed, like Ms Hawkins here.

At the end of the evening when can't see or speak - it's time to take that shit home bro!

And last but not least, never draw attention to Ms Hawkins' adam's apple! Ever.

...or she'll release the dogs.

What becomes of the infused hearted?

2007-03-07T08:30:00.000+11:00

Could you live with betrayal?
March 6, 2007

My father always used to say to me "Son - women are like angle grinders - you should always put them back in the shed when you've finished with them" - then he'd beat me with a belt. I don't know what he meant by that.

Anyway, enough about me.

Cheating. A concept which is likely to infuse alarm into the hearts of committed gents and in-love femmes (with biological clocks ticking) everywhere.

Infuse alarm into our hearts? What are we, teabags? Can you imagine if Samantha Brett was a songwriter?

"Last night, she intoned..." (The Strokes)
"There's a saucy femme who's sure, all that glitters is gold..." (Led Zeppelin)
"I've been locked inside your Heart-Infused box for weeks..." (Nirvana)

i feel sick with just the thought of a lover cheating on me.
i would be suicidal
Posted by: Lisa at March 7, 2007 9:33 AM

Betrayal to me is like breaking a window (relationship), if the window is shattered into pieces no matter how much glue (love) one tries to put the shattered pieces together it will *never* be entirely the same.

Posted by: Tess at March 7, 2007 9:39 AM

I've gotta get me some of that Love Glue stuff. It sounds handy.

Fore-what? What-play? What-what?

2007-03-06T13:32:00.000+11:00

The importance of intellectual (and other types of) foreplay
March 5, 2007

Well blokes, brace yourselves, because what I am about to reveal might startle and shock.

Ah geez.

According to throngs of women, there is no such thing as too much foreplay. Yes, yes, oh yes! Apparently the more action out of the bedroom, the better the whole experience can be for us femmes.

It certainly does come as a shock to us that women want us to do something frustrating and unenjoyable.

Dr Phil thinks the gents shouldn't get off lightly either. He concurred with the sex experts when he chastised a bunch of sheepish-looking blokes in his studio audience with this remark that got the chicks applauding: "I think you're running into a lot of trouble if your idea of foreplay is, 'Brace yourself honey, here I come!'"

Dr. Phil is about as useful as tits on a bull. What man would pay $150 an hour to be berated by a self-loathing, man-hating, homo-in-denial hillbilly? Yes! Please take my pride and dignity, I don't need it.

Sound absurd? Well it's true, said Dr Jade Sheen, a psychologist at Deakin University who surveyed 120 women on their thoughts of male-orientated pornographic films.

Her top tip for blokes? Get us interested! (After all, what the heck is the point in even trying if our minds are stressing about the kids, wondering whether or not the dinner's cooked, and reeling from the pressures at work? Take it from me - none at all.)

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the result of 6 years of university education.

And lads, we're not forgetting about you either because ladies, this sort of foreplay isn't only reserved for us. Apparently, a bit of brain-teasing gets the blokes hot and heavy as much as it does for us.
One female blogger can attest to that, revealing to me that her favourite foreplay idea is to ring her beau up during work and tell him a bunch of sexy things she's planning on doing when he gets home. Another of her tricks is hiding a pair of her underwear inside his briefcase for a little surprise when he gets to work. (Just make sure his boss doesn't find it before he does!)

That's the best you can do?
For all we put up with, that's all us men deserve?
A 25c phone call and a pair of reg grundies in our briefcase?
Come on champ, think a bit harder.

How about some tips for the girls who just lay there with a vacant look on their face? Or the ones who use their teeth when giving head? Or the ones who hold your dick like it could shatter in to a million pieces if the wind changes?

Men are all about hard and fast seat of the pants action. Football, drag racing, guns, jets, explosives - these things all have one thing in common: The complete and utter lack of subtlety.

Imagine if women invented these things:

Football would have a 7 hour half-time with Cocktails and Tim Tams.
Drag racing would take on a completely different connotation.
Gun oil would come in Lavender, Jasmine and Sandalwood.
Jets would have a whole raft of accessories that would render it completely useless in wartime.

Would you want to live in a world like that?

I'm too sexy for this blog.

2007-03-02T13:54:00.000+11:00

What is sexy?
March 1, 2007

My definition of sexy is someone that doesn't live in a cutsie bourgeois fantasyland, and can construct a sentence without reaching for the thesaurus. HA! But seriously folks, for me sexy is any girl that will look at me. Even sideways, or in rear vision mirror. PLEASE LOOK AT ME.

Anyway.

If those pages of the gents' mags are to be believed, sexiness can be encapsulated by the four Bs: boobs, butts, bikinis and Brazilians. Yet ask any bloke and they probably won't point to the latest cover of Zoo Weekly magazine in an attempt to show you what they think gets their juices flowing ("sex, sport and stupidity" is the mag's motto).

Oh no. They're more likely to say it's someone whom they snuggled with in bed over a bottle of red, danced all night with in a sweltering club, or the one who made them laugh their heads off over nothing much at all.

W...what? Firstly, girls aren't funny unless they fall down a flight of stairs, or "walk into a door". Secondly, everyone knows that only homos dance. And thirdly - well I forget what the third one was, but I'm sure it was as equally insightful and hilarious as the previous two. It might've had something to do with underpants.

Online dictionary Wikipedia attempts to demystify the sexy conundrum, giving us a little clue as to exactly how we perceive sex appeal.

It reckons it's a combination of three things: visual perception (the way someone looks), olfaction (how they smell), and audition (the sound of their voice). No wonder the blokes go ga-ga over Demi Moore's husky tones.

Yet the notion of sex appeal has changed drastically since the days when a size-12 Marilyn Monroe sang her breathy tunes for the president. (Although I'm sure her olfaction still stands as sexy today.)

I've always said there's nothing quite like a good corpse sniffing session!

As for the femmes? Sex appeal runs the gamut of someone in power (bosses, co-workers and media types), to a bloke who makes you smile, pays attention to the details, cares for his body and dresses right for his type. (And gents, a quick word of advice: if there's one thing you should spend a little money on - it's your shoes. A woman always thinks she can tell a man by his shoes ... )

And there it is guys - the reason why women don't rule the world. All these years we've been forging ahead with profound philosophical insights, awe inspiring scientific discoveries, ground breaking music and stubby holders shaped like things - and it turns out all they care about is our shoes! No wonder they keep hitting the glass ceiling - HEADS UP, BITCHES!

BREAKING NEWS: People act like retards when drunk. Society shocked.

2007-02-28T13:52:00.000+11:00

Women, cocktails and sex
February 27, 2007

I don't know what this has to do with anything - other than guessing how many beers it would take to make Samantha Brett look good.

"For example, the guy I saw a couple of weeks ago lying unconscious on the sidewalk next to his own turd (yes, you read that correctly) with his pants around his ankles wasn't looking 'crash hot' in my opinion," he writes.

So that's where that turd went!

Dude...wait, what?

2007-02-27T09:00:00.000+11:00

The F Words: Feminism, Free Love and F* Buddies
February 26, 2007

Dude. Seriously. This is the most incoherant and ill-thought out piece of rubbish I have ever had the misfortune of reading in my entire life - and I'm not exaggerating. She moves to the next thought quicker than a coked up slut to another cock in a German gangbang movie.

She drops a thousand questions in your lap and expects you to sort through them - no wonder those poor women on the dating circuit are so confused. Men on the other hand have been blessed with something women have not - clarity of thought.

For example, if you were able to "paint" a woman's thoughts at any given moment on to canvas, it would look something like this:

On the other hand, if you were to take a look at a man's thoughts it would look something like this:

See? Clarity. How good is it?

Why jerks always score with stupid women

2007-02-15T17:37:00.000+11:00

Why some women are always attracted to jerks
February 15, 2007

What do Kylie Minogue and blogger Julie have in common? Both are bottle-blonde, both are pint-sized and both are addicted to dating the jerk.

And they're both stupid.

"It's the thrill of the chase for me," laments Julie when I ask her why she's dating yet another bloke who is clearly more interested in spending time with his X-Box and flirting with bar chicks than spending the night on the couch with her.
Yet despite the pitfalls, she's completely head over heels in lust with the spiky-haired hunk. "He'll change," she says uncertainly.

Spikey hair is stupid, and so is Julie.

Along with the big bubble-perm, cut-off jeans and nice guy Jason Donovan, she ditched the pleasant gents and her Miss Goody Two Shoes image for the naughty, sex kitten sort of femme, who only dates men that don't call back when they say they will and act like they're just not that into her.

Who were these guys exactly? Or are you too stupid to do your research?

Thus she slept with Hutchence, sang with Robbie Williams, went on a date with French heartthrob (and supposed jerk) Olivier Martinez, and ended up wasting four years of her life wondering if Martinez was sleeping around and why he wasn't home by 2am.

New Idea does not count as a reliable source, you stupid woman.

Yet some women just can't seem to escape their wrath. Hence they date one bad boy after another; getting used, abused and discarded like last yesterday's news.

Because they're stupid. Even a lab rat eventually learns not to touch the electrified cheese, or whatever.

"I fall hard for people who don't want me," writes blogger Melissakp. "And the only people who fall hard for me are ones I don't care quite *enough* about. It's a vicious cycle which may well continue my whole life. I'm just hopeful that one day I'll have a big love that's a two way street."

Stupid. So stupid.

I'm glad to see at least one of her Cloggers agrees with me.

Why do women date jerks? Because stupid people deserve each other's company.
Posted by: Tyler Durden at February 15, 2007 10:31 AM ---

OK, Tyler's nailed it. So stop with all the poor little me posts.
Posted by: pj at February 15, 2007 1:41 PM

Brown-eyed monster

2007-02-13T11:39:00.000+11:00

The green-eyed monster: how jealousy can kill a relationship
February 12, 2007 9:25 PM

Ooh, jealously.

Ooh, another Clog starting with Ooh.

You know the feeling. You're watching your partner flirt with the hot bartender right in front of your eyes. You spot your new beau sending a text message to his ex-girlfriend.

You come home and find him with his dick in yo' momma's ass.

Your partner is extremely late home from work, again. Your heart races, your cheeks are flushed, the adrenalin is pumping and you're stuttering. You can feel
your temperature rising with rage.

You start cutting yourself and shitting in his hats.

True, men feel they need to protect their gene pool from invasion of other blokes who are after the same female that they've got their eyes on.
True, women look each other up and down, green-eyed over a pair of sparkly heels or a perkier butt.

*BROOOOOOOOOOOOM*
*SCREEEEEEEEECH!*
*BANG*

That was the sound of Feminism being driven in reverse and colliding with the Stereotype Bus at a T-Intersection. The T is short for Tedium.

Heck, one blogger even claims that when his friends came over on the weekend for a dinner party, they all suffered from "Plasma envy" over his giant television screen.

Why is this guy boring Sam with the boring details of his boring life? I can just imagine how the rest of the email went too:

So after all the guys left I was so lonely I cried for 3 hours. My mother never let me talk to other girls when I was young. She used to beat me with a sock full of batteries. Sometimes when I'm alone I sit in the dark and eat thumb tacks.

You're boring. Stop boring everybody!

Take my mate Tom, a 28-year-old bar manager, who reckons his girlfriend of two years is pushing the jealousy button a little too far.

"She has this one male friend and they go shopping together, she sometimes sleeps over when she works late, and they're always on the phone to each other. If she's trying to make me jealous, it's sure damn working."

To me, that's going a little too far. Yet it seems that in some relationships, the major love story isn't how happy one can make the other, but how miserable and jealous they can get the other to be.

I guess Tom and Sam have never met a homo before.

As Julia Roberts intoned in the film My Best Friend's Wedding; "It's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy." Let's just hope we get to skip the psychotic part ...

in·tone /ɪnˈtoʊn/
–verb (used with object)
1. to utter with a particular tone or voice modulation.
2. to give tone or variety of tone to; vocalize.
3. to utter in a singing voice (the first tones of a section in a liturgical service).
4. to recite or chant in monotone. –verb (used without object)
5. to speak or recite in a singing voice, esp. in monotone; chant.
6. Music. to produce a tone, or a particular series of tones, like a scale, esp. with the voice.

Holy Epiphany, Batman!

2007-02-08T09:19:00.000+11:00

Boobs, butts and bits in between
February 7, 2007

In the words of arguably one of the greatest thinkers of our time:

Ass.
Titties.
Ass n' Titties.
Ass Ass Titties Titties Ass n' Titties.

It seems as if our little Sam is growing up. That's right, she's getting life lessons and profound insights delivered straight to her inbox.

We all know men like boobs. (Apparently any shape or size will do.) But did you know they also like butts? And a bit of flesh too?

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!!!!~!!!~~onebacon!!~

Yet what baffles me the most about my newfound insight into the male brain (thanks to this column and the ever expanding number of emails hitting my inbox) is that it's not the men who judge us so profoundly. Instead, it's our own kind: it's our fellow femmes ...

"Guys actually like cleavage," pouted Graham Brown, editor of Australian Penthouse to the Herald a while back. "Men like breasts, they like bums. [Catwalk models and Hollywood actors] are literally clothes horses. When you don't have clothes on, it's a different kettle of fish altogether."

I very much doubt that Mr Brown (Editor by day, Captain Obvious by night) has ever pouted anything in his life. Go on, try it now. Pout and try to say "Guys actually like cleavage".

Go on. Try it. I'll just sit here and read the paper.

*illusion of time passing*

See - it sounds like "Grind act surely lurk clean fish" doesn't it? And that's just a stupid thing to say. You're stupid.

It's good to see her "regulars" - when not attempting to flirt shamelessly in front of everyone else, and dropping injokes that outsiders like me don't understand - are giving her a bit of shit too.

Men also like butts and a bit of flesh? Well, I never! What a revelation, Sam.
Frisky Librarian

Oh wow, gee, really, Sam? You don't say! Wow, I'd never heard of any of that before in my life.
Ana

Harden the fuck up, men of Australia

2007-02-07T15:16:00.000+11:00

Tears: Men, Women and emotional blackmail
February 6, 2007

Oh yeah, now it's Dave's time to shine.

Oh yes, women are notorious for tugging on the emotions of their blokes in order
to get their way.

And while doing a bit of probing, I came across some facts that find this theory could indeed have scientific legs.

Hehe. Probe.

Right, all you fuckin' cunts who cave to chicks who cry need to harden the fuck up. You don't need to be blackmailed anymore. You're men, not Matthew Mcconaughey.

All it takes my dear reader is a bit of patience, and some training. Much like a dog needs to be trained to sit, stay, and stop pissing on your kids' head while he sleeps - women need to be trained to stop using tears as a way of getting what they want.

Lesson 1 - Ignorance
Whenever your partner starts crying, do not get upset. Do not let your partner see that her crying has provoked a feeling of guilt or remorse. Simply carry on the conversation as if discussing the price of fruit, the weather or men's underpants.*

This lesson should only be conducted by men not afraid of taking a beating from their missus.

Lesson 2 - The Walkout
If you find Lesson 1 ineffective, we suggest you move on to Lesson 2. Once the waterworks start, stop whatever you are doing and walk away. I don't care if you're using a circular saw, or carrying a new born panda - just drop it and get the fuck out of dodge.

Don't say where you are going or when you are coming back. Be warned though, if you are not there, she will do something worse than making a spectacle of herself in front of you - she will call all her friends and make a spectable of herself in front of them. To combat this, you can combine any or all of the following with The Walkout:

1) Cut the phone line
2) Take her mobile phone
3) Take the door handle

Lesson 3 - The Final Solution
If Lessons 1 and 2 do not work after at least 6 weeks, bury the bitch and eat her cat.

Texting in your FACE!

2007-02-06T08:57:00.000+11:00

Techiquette and text sex
February 4, 2007.

Firstly, "techiquette" is not a word. It's an abomination unto the lord. Stop using it.

A question I am repeatedly asked is this: "Is it rude to answer your mobile phone during a date?"

Secondly, I would be concerned that you were asked this question once, let alone repeatedly. How can these arsehats not realise that it's rude?

Well is it? "Absolutely!" laments my perpetually single (and gorgeous) girlfriend who says every bloke she dates seems to be glued to his mobile phone, Blackberry or new-fangled techno-gadget.

Well, thank fuck for the fact that even Sam's perpetually single (and gorgeous) girlfriend knows that it's rude. See? Even good looking chicks can be switched on sometimes, apparently.

Ever felt like you've been ignored by your date while they answer their mobile at the dinner table? Like you've been emotionally slapped in the face when you hear your date's phone beep, and they tell you it's their ex?

I was once on a date in a quiet restaurant in Fitzroy North, and at a table to my right was a couple who also appeared to be on a date. We couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor bastard sitting opposite this chick who sat there for 30 minutes chatting away on her mobile phone, cackling like a demented seagull, and all he could do was pick at his bread. I was about this close to getting up, taking her mobile off her and dropping it in her wine and telling her to show some fucking respect and manners. I wouldn't have done it of course, but my dad would've, he's a big fan of public displays of humiliation.

Are you left confused and baffled, yet again, as to why that cute and charming Lothario you met the other night hasn't called or sent you back a text? Surely they received it? Surely their phone is still working?

There's that word again.

*twitch*

Lothario.

*twitch*

Someone please buy this bitch a better thesaurus.

*twitch*

After a series of successful dates with a chick who he was remotely interested in, he decided to invite her over to his place. But apparently she had some other, more important business to do beforehand. "She arrived two hours late with two pizzas under her arm even though I had specifically told her that I had spent $30 on a barbeque for us."

It gets worse. "Her phone rang, so she answered it, even though we were in the middle of kissing. She then proceeded to go into the other room and speak for half an hour to a friend of hers, about her ex-boyfriend!" he sniffed. "I was on the verge of kicking her out, but the pizzas were too good to resist."

Ladies and Gentleman, this a real man.

n0rp

2007-02-01T09:27:00.000+11:00

Boys will be boys
January 31, 2007

"When you are in a relationship, why does the man still need to look at porno magazines?" blogger Sally recently asked me in an email.

Probably because you've stopped wearing bras and have started letting off a weird smell. But seriously, it's about time Sam picked a topic that has nothing to do with some pie in the sky bourgeois fantasy - even if it is condescending to men. Boys will be boys, fuck off. The only time that should be used is when referring to the Choirboys song of the same name.

While recently watching an Oprah Winfrey Show rerun titled Boys Will Be Boys, I was intrigued when the queen of chat relayed the stats that 70 per cent of men aged 18-34 viewed internet porn once a month.

Meanwhile her boyfriend, if she had one, was probably in the study downloading the latest episode from BigTitsRoundAsses.com

But watching porn can work in two ways. According to my mate, it can either spice up the relationship, or it can act as a replacement for needs that aren't being met in a relationship. And if this is the case, then you need to know when the warning bells start to ring.

Some might say that porn is working in the same way the only difference is whether or not the guy thinks you're capable of learning a few new tricks, and introduces it into the relationship.

"Guys will always find a way to look at porn," says one married Lothario (who by the way is extremely devoted).

Ahh yes, the married Lothario. Just like the pleasent enema, or the freedom cage.

Anyway, I feel the Sam De Brito and his readers have done a much better job of broaching the subject of porn and how it affects our sex lives and relationships. They've dug deep and discussed it in an extremely honest way. Sam Brett has fallen a mile short, once again proving she is incapable of contributing anything useful to society - beyond being an example of what not to be when you grow up, and why you shouldn't let your thighs get so big.

Booze On

2007-01-30T09:00:00.000+11:00

What your drink says about you
January 29, 2007

Like your beer? You're experimental and creative, enjoy jazz, media and unusual art and like to interact with "off the wall" types of people.

WRONG, BITCH.

Ex-istentialism

2007-01-24T09:16:00.000+11:00

Syndrome Ex
January 23, 2007

I'm happy to say that it looks like Sam and the City has finally jumped the shark, although some (me) may argue that it jumped the shark from the very first Clog. However I am willing to admit that Sam has made a few good points - admittedly they were accompanied by thousands of retarded and inane ones.

Sam, in a desperate attempt not to be forgotten, has tried to leave her mark on the self-help lexicon by coining the term "Syndrome Ex". I have nfi what it means, but if this paragraph is anything to go by...

There's the waking up in a sweat after having a nightmare (which involved the two of you getting back together); the shaking and tensing up whenever you pass the old favourite haunt where the two of you hung out, and the incessant driving by their place in the hope of not catching them ensconced in a passionate kiss someone else (otherwise known as stalking). After all, it's only been a mere two/five/ten years since you broke up.

...Sam's "Syndrome Ex's" have probably formed a support group, where they come together once a week to discuss home security systems, restraining orders, and deepthroating.

She's attempted to go out on a limb and use statistical evidence to try and draw her own conclusions in regards to the problem ex, why we have so many of them, and why we can't stop thinking about them.

Why? For a start we're marrying later than ever before (according to the ABS, the median age for men to marry is now 32 and for women it's 30), serial monogamy is a growing trend and one-night stands no longer shrug-worthy. Indeed if we shunned all our exes, would there be anyone left for us to hang out with?

She may have her fancy "statistics", but I have years of experience eavesdropping on third hand conversations. My hypothesis is women are all mental defectives who spend their entire emotional lives jumping to conclusions about the most insignificant things and how it impacts on them, rather than just enjoying being with their partner. The results being her flying off the handle when the guy turns up 5 minutes late.

You know the conversation I'm talking about.

Man: "Sorry I'm late. Couldn't find my shoes."
Woman: "You always do this.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm even with you at all. You don't respect me. You only
see me as an object to be used whenever you feel like it. YOU DON'T LOVE ME!"
Man: "..."

There's no common wisdom, self-help book, or buzz word that can tell you how to deal with relationships, let alone an ex. There's no right or wrong way. Sometimes you have a deep connection with that person that is hard to sever. Sometimes the flame is rekindled, sometimes it's not. That's what makes life interesting, the fact that no 2 relationships are ever going to start, end, or be the same.

Sam and the City - The Fans

2007-01-22T17:07:00.000+11:00

I stumbled upon the MySpace page of a Sam and the City hanger-on, Lisa, and found some photos of a Sam and the City "Booze Up".

No jokes.
No cheap shots.
No laughing.
I'm just going to let the photos do the talking.

Black eye for the marketing guy

2007-01-22T10:45:00.000+11:00

Do straight men really need a Queer Eye?
January 21, 2007

Okay boys, time for another male-as-fashion-trend clog. Yes, apparently the Metrosexual has gone the way of the SNAG, and is now about as popular in the dating scene as a 10CC cover band at Wacken. The Machosexual is the antidote to blokes with collars could stay upright in a cyclone, and hair that has more chemicals in it than Bhopal's water supply.

According to Wikipedia, the machosexual is a man "who eschews modern trendy aesthetics in favor of more traditional 'manly' pursuit". And he's in hot demand.

Come on Sammy, you used the word sagacious in your last clog, now we're back to those year 8 debating team skills again?

True, men still have a lot to learn about love and sex (napery, candles and bed linen to name a few). And sure, we all sat glued to the hit TV show when it first popped onto our screens, and squealed with girly delight at the possibility that the disheveled, smelly and undomesticated could magically be transformed into the freshly plucked, prettied and preened.

On what basis do you make the assumption that women have the monopoly on love and sex? Just because we may want to jerk off on your face - and possibly your hot best friend as well - doesn't mean we don't know a thing or two about love. Or thread counts.

Yet I still wonder; is it the metrosexual, or the machosexual who is making the women of today weak at the knees?

It's a real shame that these labels are being invented by men. The products that helped shape the limp-wristed generation were most likely invented by men too, as well as the advertising campaigns designed to sell the products. Bloody traitors.

These social trends will come and go as long as there are women shallow enough to find it attractive, and men that are dumb enough to fall for it. I feel sorry for people that feel the need to be a desirable fashion accessory rather than a complete, strong, unique, and worthy human being.

On another note, I am happy to see the quality of the responses declining as well. A whole lot of bitchy retards acting like they're in a chat room. I'm afraid dear reader that Sam and the City Sucks may soon become a copy and paste effort from the comments.

David Cop-a-feel

2007-01-22T10:11:00.000+11:00

Too great expectations?
January 18, 2007

Get rid of your checklist: Specifically the superficial items such as "must be tall, like dogs and speak with an English accent". (Damn!)

Decrease your expectations: We all know that when you go out looking for it and expecting it to happen, it never will. Enjoy yourself, go on many dates, find out what you're after and what you don't like and wait for it to come to you. It will when you're ready.

Turn off the television: Why? Because it gives us a false vision of how love should be, therefore increasing our expectations and causing us to be too picky all over again. Instead, read a good book, visit a museum, or better still, hit the gym - plenty of spunky singles are running around there, and they're not wearing much. And finally, compromise: Ask any successful couple and they'll tell you that compromise is the key to a great relationship.

Finally - something that doesn't sound like it's been written by some half-wit Bondi chick whose IQ matches her moisturisers’ SPF factor.

Nietzsche wept

2007-01-18T15:23:00.000+11:00

Is living together a good idea?
January 17, 2007

True, German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche believed we should all "live dangerously" if we want to reap the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life. But moving in with someone is a whole different ball game from going the dangers of going bungy jumping, entering Australian Idol or taking a peak at a picture of Britney Spears, sans the undies...

Oh no. No you didn't. You didn't just include Nietzsche and fucking Britney Spears in the same paragraph.

Sure, if we are asked to move into our new partner's luxurious abode with park views, two bathrooms and a trained Chihuahua, our brains would light up as brightly as a kid's in a candy store.

This once again affirms my belief that Sam's blog is not for Australia's 4 million singles, but the female petite bourgeoisie city dwellers whose lives revolve around career, shoes, and cocktails. What man in their right mind would even let a rodent like that into their apartment, let alone want to own one?

The 2007 Female Soapbox Derby Championship

2007-01-17T15:25:00.000+11:00

Who needs a husband (or wife)?
January 16, 2007

Okay here we go fellas, more insipid female i'm-so-independent-because-i-bought-like-3-destiny's-child-singles chest beating. I guess we better sit down and look interested while they explain in detail, and at great length about how they're great and we're shithouse.

(Italics is what I'm thinking)

Did you know that women no longer need a husband? They don't need them for buying a house, changing a tyre, having kids or zipping up. In fact, if you're a modern chick, why bother with a man at all?

Yes dear.

Did you know I received three phone calls from females in the past 2 years alone asking me to drive to the middle of bumfuck Idaho to change a flat tyre? What's that you say? That's not many? I ONLY HAVE THREE FEMALE FRIENDS.

That's the conclusion of an ever-gushing hydrant of research from psychologists, economists, social scientists, and even girl band The Pussycat Dolls, whose latest song gushes with the lyrics, "I don't need a man to make it happen ... I don't need a ring around my finger ... I can get off when you ain't around, oh!"

Ha! Ha! Oh, burn on those men! They are so burnt.

I don't need a 1973 Datsun Sunny, but you don't see me building a website, or writing a song about it. They may not need a man, but they could use a FUCKING DICTIONARY.

I decided to ask my newly divorced girlfriend in New York whether she thought a husband might be necessary. "Absolutely not!" she told me. "I've never been happier," she said while eying the talent in the room and wondering which single's bar she was going to hit next. "Who needs a husband?" she slurred. "Certainly not me! My room is now pink. It's filled with shoes; my credit card has bounced and I can flirt, sleep with and drink as much as I please."

Oh, you go girlfriend! She is such an inspiration to women everywhere.

Oh, you go drive off a cliff girlfriend. She is such an abomination unto the lord. Also, I can't figure out what she means by this line; "I can flirt, sleep with and drink as much as I please." - is she a Vampire? Or is she simply hot for Shasta?

Such is the story of my career-orientated journalist friend, who I never thought would ever want to settle down. She's always been a goal-focused, I-don't-need-a-man, I'm-fine-on-my-own, single-life-is-the-bomb type of chick. Yet - shock, horror - she recently fell in love.

Yay! Good for her.

NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID FRIENDS.

While they say a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, it seems some fish do need a set of wheels after all...

LOLLERSKATES!

That just proves that women aren't interested in ensuring our dominion over this planet. For once in your life, would you just get off the lounge and guarantee the survival of the species? Jesus H. Christ.

On a lighter note, I found this comment hilarious.

Hello all,
my name is Karen and I have been reading your blog today. I have a problem. I am living de facto with a very violent man. He hits me regularly. I could not go to work today because he bashed me so violently last night. We have a small child, and I fear for her. I would like to leave him but he threatens to track me and my girl down, and kill us. I don't know if the police can help. I don't have much money either. I am just very confused. Could you offer some advice? Thank you.

Nice way to kill my buzz, Karen. Here I was minding my own business having a great old time, and you come along with your black eyes, and broken ribs, and your boo-fuckin-hoo's and you put me on a royal downer. Thanks a-fuckin-lot.

My problems aside, I think we can all learn something from Karen's tragic, but poorly timed, story. The next time you are the victim of a violent crime - whether it be at the hands of a loved one, or a stranger - do not call the police. Tell the internets.

Remember the saying kids: Hop on a blog, and dob dob dob!

The Fart of Happiness

2007-01-16T12:14:00.000+11:00

The Art of Happiness
January 15, 2007

Breaking News: Pop journalist discovers money does not bring happiness. Wall St. has half a day.

What is happiness? A pay rise? Losing weight? Death by chocolate? An orgasm?
"Yes, yes, yes!" I hear many of you say.

I heard someone yell "SHUT UP!".

It wasn't me.

It was someone behind me somewhere.

According to a "study", economists determined that getting your leg over once a week is equal to an extra $65,000 a year income. See, I think they should take this a step further, and determine how much knocking the top off every night is worth.

During her some 600 word pop-culture-reference-filled Clog, Sam does not empart any nugget of information that even remotely resembles an insight into humanity.

To me "happiness" - this eternal bliss which is what we're told we should strive for; our sole purpose for existing on this rock - is like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. With the little leprechaun sitting on top, and he's all like "Top of the mornin' to ya" and you're all like "Dude, cool hat!"

The question for me is: why restrict yourself to one part of the emotional spectrum? It seems like an awful waste of time. Why are we not encouraged to embrace everything that is strange, eccentric, complex, contradictory, horrible, hilarious, terrifying, and beautiful about ourselves? Flaws are what I find interesting, and attractive, in people.

I wouldn't want to be with someone who is constantly perky and vivacious, just like I wouldn't want to be with someone who is constantly morose. Spending your life striving to achieve, and exist in, a small part of the human experience at the expense of the rest means that you're never really complete.

Stupendipity

2006-12-21T14:34:00.000+11:00

Serendipity
December 20, 2006

This is the first clog in a while where Sam hasn't (mis)used the word tome. Huzzah! However, she does start it off, again, like she's a losing contenstant in a spelling bee.

My concern in regards to the dumbing down of The Age, and Australian media in general, has been piqued further by the people who comment daily on her blog. Sam refers to them as Bloggers, I refer to them as the shallow end of the gene pool.

At first, it was a bunch of people sharing stories, getting in to arguments, and just being tools in general. However now, it seems that a large number of them have become bosom buddies. Hehe. Bosom. So now rather than the comments being a sharing and caring scenario, it's just one massive flirt fest slash in-joke. It's like IRC, but without the nerds and quality humour.

Now I found out that people have even met and fallen in love on the blog.

I found the love of my life on this very blog.He gave me an early Christmas present last night, two first class tickets to Paris for New Years Eve. I'm the luckiest girl in the world!

Posted by: Melissa at December 21, 2006 1:30 PM

Now there's a story to tell the kids.

Billy: "How did you and daddy meet, mummy?"
Melissa: "Well Billy, I saw your father in the 79th comment of an Archived
post on the blog that triggered the Second Coming of Christ."

Here is a list of blogtards for you to keep an eye out for:

Joss
Lisa
Magoo*
dan
Beach Boy
Frisky Librarian
Jayina

* Head tard

dan - please add me to your phone contacts immediately, put on your Playboy motif jocks and prepare to bowl the maiden over. Assuming that your middle wicket is adequate. Is it? ;-)

Posted by: Magoo at December 21, 2006 11:43 AM

(Sorry. Swear that's the last time I'll use that image.)

As far as Serendipity goes, I find more beauty in the Many Worlds Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics. If it's proven, it'll mean that all of my alternate realities have been, and are being, played out at once.

If my life turns to shit, I know that in an alternate reality I am happy.
If I'm happy, I can be grateful that I'm not living the reality where my life has turned to shit.

There's a reality in which I've eaten the world's biggest steak.
There's a reality in which Al Gore and Mark Latham are President and Prime Minister respectively.
There's a reality in which my mother is a blonde.
There's a reality in which I have a green laundry.
And finally, there's a reality where I've been sucked off by Angelica Sin.

All the beauty and tragedy in your life can happen at once - you just need the imagination, or the right kind of hydro, to appreciate it.

Low resolution

2006-12-19T09:32:00.000+11:00

Do new year's resolutions ever really stick?
December 18, 2006

Like, oh my god, did you hear, like, Elle ate like SO much chocolate on new years eve, and then like her boyfriend cheated on her, and then like she snogged her boss! I was like 'omg', and then I lost my hairbrush, and then omg I couldn't find you guys and I was all like 'omg' and then I woke up the next day and my hair was a MESS -

Sorry, got a bit carried away there. Reading this abortion every day reeks havok on my...word...speaking...thing.

"New Year's is a harmless annual institution," intoned Mark Twain. "No particular use to anybody, save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions."

I can just imagine Mark Twain travelling through Missouri, singing that as he went. Sam, there's nothing wrong with saying "said". Synonyms are great and all, but said has served us so well throughout the ages. Let's not ruin that, 'k precious?

You're not trying to impress your Year 6 English teacher here, so you don't have to reach for the Thesaurus every fourth ~~vocable~~ word.

That's because January 1st is never a pretty sight. Unlucky lotharios are woken at noon to buzzing text messages reminding them they kissed their best friend's crush, told their ex they're still not over them, called their boss to confess they had stuffed up the annual report.

Who...who does that!? And what exactly is an "unlucky lothario"? Is that like dry rain? Or cheap petrol? Or a smart bikini model?

Case in point is the following cautionary tale. A couple of years ago a friend of mine decided her resolution would be to cut out chocolate from her diet for an entire year. At the stroke of midnight, she ate her last bite (in the form of a giant piece of chocolate mudcake), and touched none of it for the entire next year.

During that year, she lost five kilos, got rid of her pimples, and gained a boyfriend. Yet come midnight the following year and chocolate was back on the menu - in abundance. Within a few weeks, she had gained back the five kilos, the pimples returned, and yet the boyfriend was delighted they could finally step into Max Brenner's chocolate shop together.

Sorry but I -

Oh, man, it just doesn't want to stay down does it?

Anyway, I've never understood why people waste time coming up with new years resolutions. As far as I'm concerned, if you make a new years resolution to better youserlf and your situation, you've just gone and pissed a whole years with of opportunities away. If you keep making the same new years resolutions over and over again, then you're just pissing your entire life away.

If pigs could fly...

2006-12-18T09:06:00.000+11:00

If women ruled the world...
December 17, 2006

Quick question: what would happen if women ruled the world? Think it's absurd? Preposterous? Never in a million years?
"I'm fairly confident that in the west, the 21st century will be the century of women," quipped Professor Steve Jones of University College London to the BBC.

University College. I think I've heard of that place. They're the people who keep emailing me, offering me free diplomas in Computer Science and Psychic Massage.

It seems even Sam's fans think her topics are becoming shitefully boring, and more insipid than usual.

Yea i was looking at one aspect, and im tired, think the topic is boring and the responses will be predictable. So crucify me... im just keeping a balance

I totally concur with Lisa, this is such a boring topic Sam! No offence!!

yes, I agree Lisa, the topic is tired and boring, soon as I saw it it made me sleepy, think I will email ole Sam with some suggestions for topics...

This is a rather boring topic... lately the topics on this blog seem to perpetuate outdated stereotypes....eg. do men like smart women, what hair colour is best, what if women ruled the world....

BORING! ZZzzzzzzzzzz

same old thing.. bla bla bla.. cant learn anything here really now can we?

Ouch.
And what does Elle, the Brains Trust of Sam and the City, think?

Chocolate & alcohol would have no calories, for a start! :) However, I thought that women already ruled the world? And for those who are about to cite lower wages for female workers as proof that the opposite is the case, think about it....perhaps men are offered higher wages just to make them feel better about trudging off to the coalface, so that those of us who choose to stay at home can get our hair and nails done in peace?! :)

Posted by: Elle at December 17, 2006 7:40 PM

bool bIsGeek = ((Man.IQ>135) || (StarTrek.Collection.Count>3));

2006-12-13T09:13:00.000+11:00

Do women like smart men?
December 12, 2006

As you can tell from the title, I am in fact a geek. If you thought I was Bolivian, please skip to the next post.

I'm a big geek. Not only can I quote every Futurama episode verbatim - throw on the DVD commentary tracks for each episode and watch me do my thang. I also have a draw full of valves and transistors, and an unfathomably large pornography collection.

According to this clog, Geeks and Nerds are the latest dating fashion accessory. Yes, that's right boys, we're not longer the social pariahs we once were. No longer will we be the subject of derision amongst our genetically superior peers. No longer will we be set upon for wearing a t-shirt that says:

C:\Dos
C:\Dos\Run
Run\Dos\Run

or my personal favourite

SELECT * FROM users WHERE clue > 0

Yet while doing a little research on the subject, an interesting factoid popped up that had me a little flummoxed. According to popular belief that is sweeping through the blogosphere, many women not only like smart men, but reckon the smarter and the geekier they are, the better lovers they make ...

Yep.

"A nerd is an excellent provider and a guy who puts you first," E. Jean Carroll from Elle magazine told the New York Daily News. "He'll turn out to be a great father and a great husband." Reason enough.
There's great news for us geek girls too.

Oh no you didn't. You didn't just go and place yourself in the same league as me. A geek's top 10 most commonly used words list does not look like this:

10) Txt
9) Shoes
8) Hmph
7) Opine
6) Flirt
5) Oh
4) Daffodil
3) Mmm
2) Ooh
1) Food

Apparently geeks are better in the sack, so says Cristina Millano in Glee magazine in an article titled Nerds Make Better Lovers. In fact "so-called 'cool' men and women aren't half as good in the sack as their nerdier counterparts"!
By her reckoning, nerds not only have the brains to intellectually stimulate their partners, but they have the magic "love touch" thanks to being experts in geography, chemistry and mathematical formulas "of how to make your body scream". Enough said.

What can I say? When you're right, you're right.
:D

Now ladies before you head down to your local LAN Party to lassoo yourself a man like this:

Let's take a step back and look at what you're really after.

Security.

To generalise, a highly intelligent male has more earning potential, and communication ability than a relatively good looking wrench monkey - which equals emotional and financial security. A good looking football player has even more earning potential than the highly intelligent male, which equals physical security and financial security.

So you see, it's not about geeks vs. jocks. It's about what sort of security, and how much of it, we can provide.

Whether or not geeks do indeed make better partner material is still up for debate, but I think I'll leave the final word to this guy:

Do women like men smarter than them?
Well, I don't think they have a choice!!!
hahaha

Posted by: spag at December 13, 2006 9:05 AM

Oh snap!

Waiting with bacon breath

2006-12-12T10:39:00.000+11:00

What's your New Year's fantasy?
December 11, 2006

Mmm ... holiday fantasies. For some, it's being able to spend more time with your mates, drinking beer and soaking up the sunshine. For others, it's catching up on some well-deserved shut-eye, eating breakfast in bed and joining The Mile High Club. For me, it's the allure of heading overseas to an icy destination for a white Christmas, without my Blackberry.

Oh man, spot on. There's nothing better than waking up at 11:30, eating some pillow-bacon, then climbing to 30,000 feet so I can bang some chick over a vacuum toilet.

Yet after the confetti has fallen and the clock strikes midnight on December 31st, there's one universal fantasy that's on everyone's wish list: the midnight New Year's Eve kiss.

Well, I wouldn't say it's a universal fantasty. What about the suicidal? I'm sure they'd much rather be at home swallowing a pack of razor blades than swallowing someone else's saliva.

There's also the philemaphobic, and aphenphosmphobic. Oh, and people who don't have lips thanks to some kind of industrial chemical accident, or 'tards who've sucked on one too many exhaust pipes.

It's recently been discovered that kissing might actually be good for your health.
Oh yes, bloggers hold onto your tongues, because according to the Kinsey Institute New Report on Sex, kissing burns more than six calories per minute, (walking outdoors burns 8!) and engages all 34 of your facial muscles.

Yes. Recently. In the same way that the Tiananmen Square Massacre was last week, or that parachute pants are so hot right now.

Those figures are from the 1991 Kinsey Institute New Report on Sex.

Renowned denists the world over say kissing is also good for your teeth and gums as it stimulates the flow of saliva, washes the bacteria from your teeth and even reduces plaque. (Who would have thought?)

No one!

Except anyone who paid attention in year 8 chemistry.
Or anyone who's been to the dentist in the past 10 years.
Or anyone who's been to the denist in the past 10 years.

William Cane, author of the The Art of Kissing asserts that the best types of kisses are performed by "sucking the air out of your partner's mouth and lungs". Doesn't sound too appetising yet Cane reckons you might as well get into it because "all the best kisses make you lose your head and cause a visceral reaction". Sounds good to me.

Both Michael Hutchence and I agree that it's not a good new years eve without a little asphyxiation. Like a lot of other men, I'd pass on the NYE kiss in favour of the oft ignored NYE handjob in the park. See you in a few weeks, ladies. :D

Captain Obvious 2: Battle of the Stereotypes

2006-12-11T10:20:00.000+11:00

Men and women: Lost in translation?
December 10, 2006

Studies show women use a whopping 20,000 words per day to communicate, while men use a mere 7,000. No wonder we're having trouble understanding each other!

Which studies would that be? Where's the results set? The sources? How many men and women were surveyed? Are those results the median, or the mean? A little research may be in order before quoting those numbers as gospel.

According to popular belief women apologise too much, talk in circles and wear their hearts on their sleeves. Women prefer to talk things through (and talk and talk and talk), while men often bottle up everything inside, abhor "the talk", would rather eat dirt than have the "feelings" debate and want straightforward solutions.

Breaking News: Science discovery: Sun hot, water wet.

Yet author Louann Brizendine reckons our miscommunication it isn't entirely due to lack of trying. (Oh boy, have we tried!) In fact the California neuropsychiatrist's controversial new book, The Female Brain, asserts that there's a scientific explanation to it all and it's got to do with one key body part: our brain.

"Girls arrive already wired as girls, and boys arrive already wired as boys," she writes. "Their brains are different by the time they're born, and their brains are what drive their impulses, values and their very reality."Yep, it's those chemicals in our brains that make women prefer to talk about their feelings, while the men prefer to meditate on sex. (Who would have thought?)
"Women have an eight-lane superhighway for processing emotion, while men have a small country road," she explains. And the men? They "have an O'Hare Airport as a hub for processing thoughts about sex, where women have the airfield nearby that lands small and private planes."

Louann Brizendine is one of those people who have been sprung citing the 7,000/20,000 words a day myth in her work. Would you regard someone who considers pop psychology myths as empirical evidence a reliable source of advice? Ladies, put down the credit card, and step away from the wallet.

(Apparently while women think about doing it every couple of days, men think about sex every one minute!)

Oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. If men really thought about sex every one minute, we would never have time to build glass ceilings, start wars, or make pornography. Wait, scratch that last one.

Despite the numbers being dubious, everyone knows that women never shut the fuck up, and men are far more efficient in their speech. We know what we want to say, and we say it so you can understand.

Introducing the female's "indirect speech", as dubbed by sex expert Allan Pease . In other words instead of saying exactly what we want women often hint at their desires, using codes, sign language and sometimes even no language at all.

Allan Pease is also another person who has cited statistical myths. However, I believe he's right. Men don't read minds. We have no interest in reading minds. Especially if it involves wearing some fruity scarf on our heads.

If you say you're fine, we believe you're fine.

If you say you're fine - then pout and cross your arms - we know you're upset, but we don't give a shit because you're obviously in no mood to communicate effectively. We simply wait a couple of hours until you explode.

In days gone by, we used our fists to deal with the situation - but thanks to changing social attitudes, we now have to sit there and take it. Stupid government advertising.

Indecision '06

2006-12-08T11:24:00.000+11:00

Should I stay or should I go?
December 7, 2006

Welcome to another episode of Sam and the Wiki. With every passing day, Samantha Brett sounds more like a Year 8 debating team reject (also known as a deb-tard).

"Should I stay or should I go?" crooned The Clash in their 1981 smash hit song of the same title.

According to Wikipedia, it's the very question band frontman Mick Jones was grappling with at the time of the song's release, in regards to his own rocky relationship with partner Ellen Foley. Should he stay and try to work things out? Or should he simply move on in hope of finding someone else?

I think Sam means Mick Jones is a crooner in the same way that Peter Tägtgren is a member of the Wiggles, or in the way that Varg Vikernes and Nelson Mandela are good chums.

Time to consult psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, author of bestselling tome The Road
Less Traveled (Arrow), who believes "love is not a feeling" but "an
action" which is showed through commitment.

No no, love is a feeling. Masturbation is an action.

"We were married for 7 years. The fact that I didn't feel that initial spark/attraction/sweeping off my feet kinda thing impacted our relationship from the first until the last day. He'd constantly say that I didn't love him enough to stick around and that if it wasn't for him we wouldn't be together."
But she gave it a shot for seven years and "went to hell and back" and even had two kids with him before she finally plucked up enough courage to throw in the towel.

7 years
+
2 kids
+
1 retard
=
1 fuck-off case of denial

PPS. This one's for the men. Get Hitched, "the ultimate training experience for guys wanting a change in their lifestyle", is offering one lucky Sam and the City reader the chance to attend a SARGE NIGHT (valued at $200). Simply post a message on the blog and email us with your best pickup story for a chance to win this fabulous prize where you'll learn from expert attraction coaches how to build your confidence to meet and attract women. Best of luck.

Sarging. If there's a better euphemism for a gay circle jerk, I haven't heard it.

I screwed your priority - and she loved it!

2006-12-07T14:39:00.000+11:00

Are our priorities screwed up?
December 6, 2006

Sam's obviously a big fan of Alain De Botton's "Status Anxiety" (that's right - the bus driver), this is the third time he, or the topc, has been mentioned in almost as many weeks.

Personally, as far as my career goes, I've never had an ambition problem - I have absolutely none, and that's the way I likes it!

The theory is backed up by the McCrindle Research report titled "Seriously Cool: Marketing and Communicating with Diverse Generations" which finds that despite Gen Y being the most educated generation in history, they are "materialistic" and "obsessed with self and success". Pah! Could have fooled us.

"Gen Y" may be the most educated generation in history, but they're also the most distracted. For example, people react like I've said I want to skull-fuck their dead grandmother when I say I don't have a mobile phone.

You fuckers need to discover the joy of silence.

Blogger Ted, a 31-year-old male, writes to me in an email that he has no interest in starting a family, but instead is obsessed by his work and his lifestyle.

"I have spent the last ten years of my life travelling around the world fuelled by having a career that earns well but I don't entirely enjoy," he says.

Hence he recently switched his job to work full time in something he was more passionate about, allowing him to travel but with a lot less money. "But hey money isn't the motivation anymore." He adds: "I have so much drive and ambition and very high expectation of myself in what I want to achieve, so it is purely a selfish decision to not want children."

His conundrum? How to tell his partner of six years that he feels this way. "I'm almost positive she'll leave me because she clearly wants children," he writes. And then there's his fear of ending up alone ...

Bingo. As my good friend Sean Daniel Grobbelaar said to me yesterday: "Fifty and single equals lonely."

Sean Daniel Grobbelaar? Sounds like one of those homosexuals I've been hearing about.

It's a shame Sam skipped right over the most obvious cause of Ted's quandary. I'd suggest that Ted needs to grow a pair and stop being afraid of the possibility that he may one day have to take a risk and have kids of his own. Just because your parents fucked you up, doesn't mean you'll do the same - although, the law of averages says the chances are pretty high.

"I want to be creative director, that's all I want to be," she told me after revealing she recently broke up with Pete, her long term beau of two years. "I love him so much, but all I want to do is work. I wake up, I go to work. I work late, I go to work functions, I come home, I dream about work and then I go to work the next day. I don't have time for anything else."

$20 says Pete's on for Coke and Bitches this weekend.
HA! I hope you cry.

It's a real shame to point this out, but Sam's columns/blollums/clogs, whatever you want to call them, aren't targeted towards Australia's "4 million singles" - only the successful white collar singles who are 24-35 years old.

Would the fat guy who works construction and lives in Blacktown have the same problem? Or the single mother who feeds her kids nothing but baloney sandwiches and LA Cola? Or the permanently disabled? Or the habitually lazy?

Shit, they'd probably consider themselves the luckiest fuckers on the planet to even have the chance of making it a problem.

...and a slipper on a shoe tree

2006-12-06T13:40:00.000+11:00

Conquering the holiday blues
December 5, 2006

Meh, I got nothing. So here's some photos of Monica Bellucci.

The death of elegance

2006-12-05T08:45:00.000+11:00

Dare to bare?
December 4, 2006

A few nights ago I noticed something strange happening at my local city bar. I saw girls in skirts so short I could see what colour g-string they had on; the blokes were unbuttoning their shirts right down to their navels revealing more chest than Pamela Anderson, and there were legs, toes, armpits and cleavage on display in such abundance I thought I had mistaken the bar for a sauna, or the set of Paris Hilton's latest video clip.

Oh, snap. You know that Paris is dumb when Sam's able to score off her - not that you needed me to tell you Paris was a retard.

And since when did wearing underwear become an option? It seems going commando has become de rigeur among the glam set, as Miranda Devine opined, "They go out in their finery and keep accidentally-on-purpose flashing their [bits]..." Especially when getting out of cars.

Shit. Someone call Ferrari.
The ladies are on to us - they've found out that whole "lower centre of gravity = better handling' thing was a crock of shit, and just an excuse to get a glimpse of their bacon strip.

Yet I wondered, are men really more attracted to flashy women?

Much like Sam, I have spent many a day struggling with similar existential dillemmas. The nature of existence. The nature of self, and identity. Is the sun hot?

Personally, I don't find girls who wear nothing but a belt terribly attractive - beyond the obvious urge to give her the Arabian Goggles, of course. There's a big difference between sport fuck and wife material.

Speaking of the bedroom, apparently there's one sticky summer issue that doesn't go down too well with the fellas: fake tan.

Amen, brothers.
Earth to girls who use fake tan: you all look like you fell head first into a carrot juice factory. And yes, it is us laughing behind your back.

Call me old fashioned, but I find girls who wear classic dresses with their hair done in a 40s/50s, style jaw-droppingly-beautiful. It's elegant, refined, subtle, and most of all it doesn't say "I'm a slapper".

Sigh. Nothing beats a classic.

Origin of the Funnies

2006-12-04T09:35:00.000+11:00

Got a sense of humour?
December 3, 2006

Bringing the funny is an important part of everyday life. Humour can break even the most tense situations. Although history tells us that the Israel/Palestine conflict was triggered by a poorly timed Holocaust joke, I believe the stand off could easily be solved with a well executed testicle joke.

Apparently, while men hanker after a woman with a GSOH, they prefer it if she laughs at their jokes, rather than cracking too many of her own.
Sounds ludicrous? Perhaps. Yet Dr Rod Martin, the man who led the research, explains that men see being funny as "a male thing" and could possibly feel threatened if a woman is funnier than them.
He told The Independent that while "women see men with a sense of humour as dangerous and sexy, men see it as threatening".

This is true. However, the only reason we find it threatening is because on average, women just aren't funny. Funny women are about as foreign and weird to us as handbags, table manners or Jews.

Fiona O'Laughlin is pretty funny, but only because she's an alcoholic who makes fun of small children and catholics. I can relate to that. My ex-girlfriend was a master of the witty retort, but she turned out to be a lesbian - kind of like Judith Lucy, but attractive and likeable.

Single man-about-town Kashif Amjad concurs, telling me the key to it all is to be able to laugh with your date. But he does admit if you're trying to be funny, you should "always have a back up line if the joke fails - i.e. jokingly say - I forgot to tell when the joke ended for you to laugh."

If you have to have a backup line, perhaps you should should just avoid humour all together - probably explains why Asif is single also.

On a serious note, it is interesting to see the number of male comics who incorporate mimicry into their act, such as Pablo Francisco and The Umbilical Brothers, versus the number of women who try to try incorporate it and do it badly. It's possibly a throw back to hunter/gatherer times where mimicry was an important part of our hunting arsenal to attract prey, or act as a defense mechanism against predators.

Alternatively, if you're a believer in creationism, God wants women to be in the kitchen, or labour, instead of cracking jokes.

Next stop: Redfern

2006-12-01T09:42:00.000+11:00

Safe sex? Not in Hollywood
November 30, 2006

I am always shocked at how many men try to get away with a 'bare ride', so to speak," writes a concerned blogger by the nom-de-plum GC. "The safe sex message has diminished in recent years and I am surprised each time it happens. Why do you think this is? I even noticed it amongst bloggers recently when men were discussing how they 'faked' it, and women were sure they could pick a faker because they wouldn't need the Kleenex afterwards!"

Hehehe. Nom-de-plum. Sounds like the French way of politely saying "No thank you, I would not like any fruit". It's nom de plume, silly.

Firstly, these people aren't "bloggers". They're groupies. You don't hear football commentators talking about the "players in the stands" do you?

Secondly, wearing a condom is about as much fun as having a shower with your clothes on. Am I right, men? They spoil the mood, they come off, they break, they dull the sensation (which can be a good thing, I guess, if you're looking to impress).

Thirdly, men are generally more willing to take risks because we know the bigger the risk, the bigger the pay off.

Finally, by the sounds of it, "GC" has been around the block a few times. Might be time for a retread, darls.

In fact, according to a study carried out by medical researcher Dr Hasantha Gunasekera (research fellow in children's health at Sydney University), safe sex is severely lacking from the Hollywood menu.

The research involved dipping into the top 200 films of all time (taken from the Internet Movie Database), and found only one single film made any mention of safe sex!

Well, let's look at some of the movies in that list.

Schindler's list
Star Wars
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Dr. Strangelove or: How I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb
Citizen Kane
The Great Escape
To Kill a Mockingbird
Das Boot
Finding Nemo
The Wizard Of Oz
Toy Story 2
Gone with the Wind

The only film found to broach the subject is the 1990 love story Pretty Woman - a story of a romance between a millionaire and a prostitute.

Incorrect. There are 2 scenes in American Pie Fight Club, which is in the top 200 list - number 32 - also mentioned safe sex not only through Marla's "The condom is the glass slipper of our generation" line, but also via a shot of several used condoms sitting in a toilet bowl. A subtle inference sure, but it still showed that despite all the nihilism and self-destruction, men can be responsible too - or maybe Tyler Durden just flushed them so he could say "Sorry baby, I'm all out. Now turn around."

The study found that the cult classic film Basic Instinct (1992) was one of the worst perpetrators, with six episodes of unsafe sex.
The teenage flick American Pie (1999) went one step further with seven unprotected sex scenes.

Wrong again. Michelle instructs Jim to wear two condoms in their sex scene, and one is clearly visible in Kevin and Victoria's sex scene. Kevin buys boxes of condoms for all the boys in an earlier scene. We see the condoms again in Jim's room when he gets that awkward talk from his father, and we also see one on his dad's arse as he walks out of the room.

YOU SUCK AT THE STUDY.

Feminists are so cute

2006-11-30T08:36:00.000+11:00

Gender Stereotypes: Bitches, bimbos and ballbreakers
November 29, 2006

This post deserves a bit of respect, not only because it deals with decent subject matter, or has quotes from an academic, but because it doesn't sound like the ramblings of an Olsen obsessed tween.

First off, I'm gunna call Sam out. Oh yes, I'm going there, girlfriend.

If you're going to write a story detailing the righteous indignation felt by females towards gender stereotyping, then you should not do it to men.

She quotes from a book written by The Guerrilla Girls, a group of pissed off chicks who wear gorilla suits (I get it!) and are in desperate need of a good deep dicking. God bless 'em though.

They say it all starts at birth, with a female either being dubbed a "Daddy's Girl" or a "Tomboy". She then grows up to be "The Girl Next Door", (a term ironically employed by Hugh Hefner to describe his Bunnies), "The Bimbo" or "The Dumb Blonde" - which they assert proves "the tiresome, sexist assumption that women can't have both beauty and brains". There's the "Femme Fatale" (women who use their sexuality to "destroy men"), Trophy Wives and Gold-diggers ("who exchange sex with their husbands for a luxurious lifestyle"). There's the "Supermodel" and the "Lady Exec", the former who relies on her feminine attributes to further her career, and the latter who imitates men to do the same. Ouch.

There's the "Bitch," which they say evolved in the 1600s to describe a brazen, lewd woman. As Ms. Magazine sneers, "what can be said about 'bitch' - and most stereotypes - is that the meaning depends greatly on context and intention: who says it, to whom, how and why". At the end of the section, readers are simply urged to "be a real bitch. But don't let anyone else call you one."

And of course there's the "Supermum" or the "Yummy Mummy" stereotype, richoteting across media headlines. Yet one disgruntled blogger writes that it's virtually impossible to keep up. "How could you possibly do everything and also have a flat tummy after childbirth?" she sneers. "Okay, if you're Elle or Princess Mary, but it's a bit difficult if you're Mrs Smith who's just had twins and doesn't have a personal trainer." Amen to that.

Bloody hell. I didn't know there were that many types of women. I only knew about lesbians, and pornstars - and lesbian pornstars. There is one stereotype they forgot, however - sanctimonious feminist.

Sam goes on to complain about stereotypes in the new Sony Bravia ad

Hmph. Not all of us are shoe-obsessed air-heads, especially when it comes to technology. I can assure you I looked more at the audio amplifier, resolution and split zoom matrix when purchasing my new television than whether or not it would look pretty in my bedroom.

Sounds like someone just bought a 42 inch LG plasma television!

Advertisers prey on stereotypes because it helps them sell their product, and maybe win an award for the advertising agency. It's relatable. It makes us laugh. Stereotypes exist for a reason - to enable us to ridicule, or help in our search for more porn. The important thing is that we don't stereotype the ones we care about.

Finally, to "disgruntled blogger": If you're striving to keep up with a stereotype, then you deserve to be left behind.

Ass Food Nation

2006-11-29T14:08:00.000+11:00

Booty Food
November 28, 2006

Sounding more like an arse-bound banana or sweet potato than an exploration of the sensual delights of fine food (would that mean that pinching a loaf is classed as Bulimia?), this post revolves how food evokes sexual desire, and debates whether or not men who cook are attractive.

Wow.
Now there's a photo that's as subtle as a girl sucking off a huge jizz covered cock.

Maybe it's the fact that my diet is somewhat restricted due to being a vegetarian, but I don't get to experience some of the more adventurous culinary delights available in restaurants, cafés, and those creepy kebab caravans that only open at 3am on Sunday morning, and stay shut for the rest of the week.

I just don't "get" the food thing.
I eat it every day - sometimes twice a day!
I use it to stay alive.
I enjoy eating it.
But there's no way I'd put it anywhere near the sensation sex brings, no matter how bad it is for me.

Jacqui Malouf, the author of Booty Food, says that if a couple cooks together in the kitchen, "they cook together in the bedroom and in life."

Urge to stab Jacqui in the face rising...rising...rising.

What about men who cook? Are they attractive? Buggered if I know, I don't like the cock - but I do know that a woman who can cook is very appealing to me. This isn't a patriarchal domination thing. It's a survival thing. If she can cook a good meal, there's a very good chance I won't want to kill myself afterwards.

Example - my last girlfriend's definition of a curry was:

Artichokes
Potato
Broccoli
Brussel Sprouts
Keens Curry Powder
Water

If ever there was a dish that tasted like cancer, this was it.

Ladies, a piece of advice, if you can't cook please don't torture your boyfriends in an attempt to broaden your culinary horizons. Invariably it ends up in a trip to the emergency room, you somehow take it personally, and all of a sudden we don't love you anymore or something.

To pun or not to pun

2006-11-28T10:32:00.000+11:00

How to tell if they're good in bed...
November 27, 2006

Sigh.

Sam.
Sweetie.
Darling.
Honey.
Fuckpuppet.

You've really got to stop with the Hamlet puns. It's not funny, it's not clever, and above all it's tiresome, and I can't afford to be falling asleep at work because I'll probably wake up with a severe case of QWERTY Face. So let's leave iambic pentameter to the professionals okay, thunderbuns?

Blogger Trezure says she is facing a similar quandary: "I am finding that more and more often, I am sleeping with blokes who can't keep it up. On the outside they look like handsome, virile, healthy stock, but way too often things should be a lot harder than they are!" So from the outset, how do you tell?

"Trezure" needs to ask herself one question: Are the guys I shag in a hurry to turn off the light and flip me over like a fried egg? If the answer is yes, then the problem is you. You could have hideous scarring, or unsightly nipple hair. Who knows?

Well it's a very important question indeed. After all, as the male portal Askmen defines the difference between good and bad sex; "It's like the difference between driving a rusted-out El Camino and cruising in a 7-series BMW. It is a whole other world - a wonderful place where you feel like a God, it lasts for hours and always ends with a mind-blowing, knee-buckling crescendo."

I'm sorry, but you've lost me - did you get Murray Walker to write that simile?

Is the 7-Series supposed to be, like, a fat chick? You know, because they weigh 2 tonnes and there's plenty of room inside. And what's wrong with driving an El Camino? Sure, they're not the prettiest piece of tail on the block, but they're cheap, reliable and can be driven hard without any complaints from the suspension or transmission*.

Kelly Nathan, a 30-year-old bartender, says a surefire way to rate a man's bedroom prowess is to take a careful look at the way he dances.

"If the guy moves his hips, you can tell he's got rhythm. If he just stands still and clicks his fingers, well girl, you're going to have a tough time in the bedroom."

Dating expert April Masini concurs, adding that anyone who moves well on the dance floor will move well in other places. "This doesn't mean that if he's tripping over both his feet you should drop him," warns the author of Date out of Your League (Turnkey Press), "it just means that you should approach sex with different expectations".

I wonder if being able to do "The Chainsaw" and "Minesweeper" counts?

* Seriously, there is a double entendre in there somewhere

And Jill came tumbling after

2006-11-27T17:28:00.000+11:00

How to tell when a relationship is over
June 15, 2006

This one made me laugh and wee my pants in fear at the same time - a conversation between Sam and Jill, her successfully fabulous and fabulously successful friend.

Her: "Why hasn't he called me back?"
Me: "Um, maybe he's at work?"
Her: "No, I know he left an hour ago. Why doesn't he want to see me tonight?"
Me: "Um, maybe he's sick?"
Her: "No. He was fine this morning."
Me: "Why don't you ask him?"
Her: "I have. He says he needs space. I love him so much, I keep calling him and inviting him over but he always seems busy these days. What should I do?"

Now who can tell me where Jill's gone wrong?
That's right, she's a PHBFH - Psycho Hose Beast From Hell.

A PHBFH is the kind of girl who will cry after the first time you have sex, boil your kitten, and sit in her car outside your house cutting herself for days on end. PHBFH's should not be approached in the wild, and even in captivity have been known to trash their enclosures whilst crying and laughing hysterically.

A PHBFH in its natural state.

Source: Camberwell Police

Love is dumb

2006-11-27T11:45:00.000+11:00

Should you ever intervene in a friend's relationship?
November 26, 2006

The question is swirling around my head as I try to fathom why my beautiful, intelligent, classy, lifelong friend is dating a cad who thinks emotional abuse is okay. He often beats her to a pulp with his words, draining her self confidence, her self respect and her happiness.

She mustn't be that intelligent then eh? If he is draining her self confidence and self respect, then she can't be that classy either - and that can only mean one thing - she's only a couple of steps away from becoming a fluffer on a German bukkake flick.

Blogger Suzie says sometimes staying out of it all is the best bet otherwise we could risk making things far worse than they already are. Suzie tells the tale of her mother who stuck by "an abusive, psychotic a**hole for seven years" despite warnings from many of her friends.

Maybe Suzie's mum should've had my his dinner on the table when I got home instead of piss farting around on the phone all day.

I noticed there's no tales of men who've been stuck in abusive relationships with bunny boilers. Is that just an oversight on Sam's part - or are we simply the smarter sex? If there's a severe problem - like crying after sex, setting our dogs on fire, throwing out our pornos, or trying to colour coordinate our wardrobe - then we do the bolt. It's simple mathematics.

Risk > (Quality of Sex * Frequency) = Run

Depending on how psycho your significant other is, as the relationship progresses the "Quality of Sex" and "Frequency" integers will invariably decrease. However the Risk variable has nowhere to go but up - unless the bitch gets some serious help, or a vibrator.

On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

Always the barmaid...

2006-11-24T10:10:00.000+11:00

Why I hate weddings
November 24, 2006

Ooo. Hate.
This one had all the hallmarks of the rantings of a jaded North Shore princess. As it turns out it was more of a sook.

There's the goofy groomsmen, (often caught out trying to pickup the bridesmaids), the catty bridesmaids (fighting over the good looking groomsman), the nervous bride (trying to squeeze into her dress at the last minute) and the crazy mother-in-law barking orders at the waiters to bring her a drink, fix up the flowers and heat up the soup, "now!"

It looks like Sam has gone and confused her life with a Julia Roberts film again.
Oh Sam, will you ever learn!

We are in agreement on one point though, and that is the money spent on weddings could be put to better use. However there's one type of wedding she's gone and ignored completely.

The Bogan Wedding
I've been fortunate to attend well over a dozen bogan weddings in my time, including my sister's, and they're fantastic. Nothing screams bogan-love like a Rose Tattoo wedding waltz, and the bride and groom leaving the reception on the back of a Hog.

They're unpretentious, cheap, and above all, meaningful. Upper middle class weddings are too rigid and formulaic. At least if you're partying with bogans you know that, by God, you're going to get your moneys worth.

Do men like ugly chicks?

2006-11-23T11:14:00.000+11:00

Do men like smart women?
November 22, 2006

Not if they look like this.

It'd be like making out with a 5 foot mound of prosciutto.

Meat-love aside, this is another farcical attempt to break a particular social phenomenon (or cliché as the case may be) down to a lowest common denominator, then attribute the result to the party who is deemed at fault. An unfortunate consequence of this is that Sam has gone and excluded herself from the "smart women" category before she'd even finished writing the title.

Trading war stories with the girls one night I was astounded to discover that many of my smart single girlfriends fear this might be the case. They're worried men are either intimidated by their drive, scared they won't be good providers or think they won't be able to hack a work/life balance.

I'm just gunna go and take a shot in the dark here, but maybe the reason they're single is because they spend so much time complaining about the fact that they're single?

Or maybe they're just really annoying, who knows?

Sam does a bit of hypothesising by saying:

My theory? A man likes a women who takes cares of him but who isn't necessarily an airhead. Sure she can mix him a drink, cook him dinner and let him relax after a hard day at work, but she can hold her own in a conversation about anything from Howard to handbags too.

First off, men don't do "mixed drinks" - unless it comes in a can with the UDL written on it.
After work men do beer. For future reference Sam, I drink Coopers pale, and the bottle opener's in the 2nd drawer.

Secondly, men don't talk about handbags, nor do we want to hear you talking about handbags. You know that glazed over look we get sometimes? That's a result our souls actually fleeing our bodies in an effort to seek shelter in a more male friendly environment - like a football match, or prison. Sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear it scream.

Yes, there are men out there who are intimidated by smart women - but they most likely grew up in a very traditional environment, where traditional gender roles were played out, and they don't know any better. It's highly likely that they desire traditional roles in their own love life.

For others, it may just be a simple case of you being really ugly - and I'm not just talking about the fact that you've got a face like a smashed crab. You may well be boring, annoying, offensive, or psycho. Or if you're a real catch, a combination of all four!

Sam's clear lack of life experience shines through with this beauty:

Maureen Dowd, author of Are Men Necessary? (Putnam Adult) certainly believed so, championing the argument that men prefer to marry down rather than up. (Hence the increasing number of gents happily latching onto their secretaries!)

Dude, seriously, what percentage of men have secretaries in the first place, and what percentage of those men are actually lucky enough to get a daily dose of "shorthand"? There's a reason the folks who run adultmatchmaker.com.au and rsvp.com.au haven't made a move in to the recruitment industry.

Sponsors wanted.

2006-11-21T08:53:00.000+11:00

What's your fantasy, baby?
November 20, 2006

Sam has a bit of splainin' to do. Again she has pimped an aphrodesiac called Femi-X in one of her blogs. I've managed to count 3 other articles that mention it, and have a hyperlink to it. She's claimed before that she doesn't receive any financial reward for these plugs, but I'm not so sure.

Here's a list of articles that mention it:
+ How often is normal?
+ What modern women are looking for?
+ Housewives bit back
+ Sam and the City TV (she doesn't explicitly mention it, but I swear there's a pack of that shit in there somewhere)

And now this:

Despite the Japanese invention of The Rabbit, the proliferation of female herbal aphrodisiac Femi-X and the ability to record escapades on portable digicams and upload them instantly onto Youtube for all the world to see, our sexual fantasies seem to have remained unchanged.
While a girlfriend and I were sitting in traffic the other day, we found ourselves gawking at a bunch of firemen, climbing into their trucks with their sun-orange uniforms, hard hats and engines blarring.

Do you take comfort in the fact that your life is nothing but a pale facsimile of a Candice Bushnall character?

While Freud once said that only unsatisfied people have sexual fantasies, perhaps the philosopher might have been a little off the mark, just this once. According to even the most satisfied couples I spoke to, everyone still has a fantasy. After all, the experts tout fantasies as having the ability to dramatically improve sex lives, whether they're eventually carried out or not.

I guess she means Freud was a philosopher in the same way that Jung was an aromatherapist.

Now this article is of course about fantasies. So naturally all the twats who regard Sam as the next Carrie Bradshaw, or Tony Robbins, or whatever will be sharing all their filthy secrets - where they will soon be made fun of, and laughed at derisively by people like myself, and my new bestest friend in the whole wide world - JPW.

As for my fantasy, Sam? Well, if we're being honest here, I'd have to say it'd be the one where you shut the hell up.

...and I guess the one where I'm ravished by 12 oiled up lesbians, or whatever.

I like big butts.

2006-11-20T15:09:00.000+11:00

Do men prefer skinny women? Or are we getting the wrong message...
November 13, 2006

This can only be settled with a fap off.

+

VS

+

WINNAR!

Lovesick.

2006-11-17T11:24:00.000+11:00

How do you know when it's love?
November 16, 2006

There's really one thing to say: Pass the ipecac.

What the hell is wrong with The Age?

2006-11-10T09:45:00.000+11:00

Just when I thought Sam and the City was the worst and most shallow blog I have ever seen, along comes Beauty Beat by Lisa Bjorksten. On first glance, there's some cracker titles:

* Hairy men? No thanks!
* Do we all desire Double D's?
* Should we wear make up to the gym?
* Terrors war on beauty
* Why can't I touch up on the train?

"Finally!" I thought "Someone's written an article for frotteurists just like me!" - I was to be let down a short time later. The Hairy Men article is particularly offensive to those of us who are quite happy with the way nature intended us to be - gorillas with smart pants.

The Age blog section isn't entirely arse however, thankfully All Men Are Liars by Sam de Brito offers some insight into problems facing men these days, particularly depression, self improvement and self destruction. Which begs the question: Are women just shallow and incapable of discussing anything of substance - or does The Age simply need to fire their sections editor? (Hi Paul!)

Why I'm glad I don't date.

2006-11-01T18:31:00.000+11:00

How to end a bad date
November 1, 2006

I'm glad I've never dated a woman like Samantha Brett. She's like a romantic comedy personified - shallow, and full of clichés.

Oooh, bad dates. We've all had them, we've all tried to escape from them and we've all heard the horror stories...

The dates that vanish into the bathroom to dab on their lip gloss only to never return again. The sleazy moves, bad breath or worse - the date who has no money to pay for the bill at the end of the night and leaves you to pick up the entire cheque, including the expensive bottle of wine they ordered, and drank most of.
Of course no-one goes on a date expecting it to be bad. We don't get all coiffed, frocked-up, spray-tanned, primped and preened to sit through boring conversation and sob stories about their ex-lover, along with bad food and worse wine (or sometimes none at all!).

Oooh crumbs.

I'd wager $50 none of that has actually happened to her. Her own sad story involves a guy who wanted to hold hands - creepy on a first date, sure, but innocent enough. I feel sorry for the guy should he ever stumble across Sam's work.

Sam plugs a book called Amy: 50 True Confessions of a Serial Dater - apparently a chicks guide to ending a date without the need for class or honesty. As a companion to this book, I'd like to take this opportunity to announce my own book written especially for men entitled: Dave: Why I buried the bitches who ditched me

Schadenfreude

2006-10-27T19:48:00.000+10:00

Life's greatest pleasures
October 26, 2006

As far as journalists go, Sam would make a pretty good housewife. She's up to her old tricks again, Googling for a particular phrase and passing on any resultant quotes that may appear profound in someway so as to pass herself off as a wise and learned authority on all things romantic, and give her readers solace.

Journalist Walter Bagehot theorized it was "doing what people say you cannot do". And many say it's escaping to a romantic hotspot for two...

Comes directly from results 2, 3, 5 and 6 for "Life's Greatest Pleasure"

This article is particularly tragic, in that it's like being a fly on the wall during a tragic "girls night in". She discussess how fabulous (or in this case "snazzy" - hi nan!) her friends are:

My snazzy journalist friend recently returned from a lengthy holiday in Greece, sporting a deep chocolate tan and an equally delicious dish on her arm.

"Ooh, you should have seen the men," she whispered to me while her Greek gent stood proudly beside her. "They were everywhere! And after a three-year drought? All I can say is forget internet dating, head north-west with nothing but a bikini and a pair of thongs... go to Greece!"

I can imagine a group of scientists conducting a study on these sorts of yackfests from behind a 2 way mirror, scratching their heads and saying "This doesn't make sense at ALL! The more fabulous 30 something females we add, the lower the collective IQ becomes!"

Scientific data suggests a strong link between hotness and tedium.

Misogynistic tendencies aside, this was a very poor way to end the week, Darls. You might as well have written an article entitled "Water is wet" or "Oxygen is necessary".

Just for the record, the greatest pleasures in my life are:
- Risotto with a nice glass of red
- Talking about my feelings
- Bukkake

High Fidelity

2006-10-26T13:11:00.000+10:00

Is fidelity overrated?
October 25, 2006

The old debate of whether we regress and fuck anything that moves, or evolve and try to devote ourselves to one person, has reared its ugly head again. I think a lot of the problems associated with cheating come from the fact that fidelity is generally implied in a relationship, and is seldom discussed in an open and honest way.

I don't think we need to try and evolve so far as to eradicate, or curb, our sexual voracity - and by extension the desire to be voracious with as many people as possible - if it's coming naturally to us and our body is telling us it's good - how can it be bad, right?

I'm no expert on which lifestyle choice is better for us in the end. I don't think it matters, both have their good and bad points. Dubious points like this don't make the issue any clearer for men:

Yet although single men might seem the happier bunch, research by the University of California, Los Angeles, has found that people who never marry run a far greater risk of premature death compared with peers who tie the knot or get divorced!

Why? Because apparently, the never-marrieds might suffer from social isolation and lack of support from children and other relatives. (You'd think they were better off!)

That's right fellas, either spend your life with your wedding tackle in a jar on the bookshelf, or fall into a sin infested coffin at 50 - that's the apparent choice we have. Choice being the overriding theme that comes from a great number of Sam's articles - the compulsion to choose one thing over another.

Choose an A cup or D cup.
Choose a rich fat man or poor handsome man.
Choose fidelity or choose infidelity.
Choose male or choose female.
Choose to chase or choose to be chased.

Why does this need exist? Is Sam trying to make our lives easier - or harder? I think most of us would agree it's the former, because she is trying to get a definitive result - but the net effect of this sort of problem polarisation is imbalance and therefore our lives become harder and more confusing. I've never understood why having your cake, and eating it too is a bad thing.

Forbidden Boobs.

2006-10-25T11:53:00.000+10:00

Forbidden Love
October 24, 2006

Sam's just getting lazy now. She's asked three hapless honkies - "Andy", "Ben" and "Amanda" - to write most of this article for her. So in the absence of any real criticism, here's some more boobs:

Bring the Boobies.

2006-10-24T10:08:00.000+10:00

Bigger breasts: turn on or turn off?
October 23, 2006

First off, Sam's up to her old tricks again, starting out with another quality Shakespeare pun. Oh, the hilarity!

To D or not to D? Now that is the question!

Secondly, here's some diagrams for your reference, just so we know what she means when she talks about "big" breasts:

Thirdly...Third...Th...wait, what?

How Google's skillz pays the billz.

2006-10-23T16:36:00.000+10:00

What is sexual tension... and when have you felt it?
October 22, 2006

Sam's impeccable research has come to the fore once again with this corker about the mystery of sexual tension. It reminds me of when I was 8, and I had to do a mini-essay "in my own words" on Ned Kelly. I had no idea what "in my own words" meant, so I used a thesaurus to replace the words I copied from a book borrowed from the library. I guess my point is, people get caught out when they're lazy. And also I have a bad mother who took no interest in my intellectual and emotional development whatsoever.

Whoa! Dude! Where did that come from!?

"It's when you can feel that energy between you but you can't quite put your finger on it," was one explanation given during a girls-only breakfast on Sunday morning. "It's hard to describe, but it's just something magical that exists," piped another. "It kind of lingers in the air. It could be a tease, a wink or a smile. But you'll know it's there when you feel it."

Ah yes, the enigma of "sexual tension"...

Ah yes the enigma of "sexual tension" indeed! Just like the mystery of "walking", and the abstruseness⁺ of "the pencil". Seemingly knowing little about the subject, Sam turned to a source that has saved the arse of high school student and web developer alike - Google. Most of her source material for this article comes from a Google search for Sexual Tension and Sexual Chemistry

Let's break it down, homes.

1) You can fake a cold
You can fake surprise
You can even fake an orgasm
But the one thing you can't fake - in real life or in fiction - is sexual chemistry.
- Barbara Bretton

Comes from result 9 for "Sexual Chemistry"

2) It's also a clever device used to hold our interest in books, tv and movies.

Comes from results 4 and 5 for "Sexual Tension"

3) According to David DeAngelo, author of "Double Your Dating" (Communications Inc), women are better in-tuned to the feeling than the men.

Comes from result 6 for "Sexual Tension"

4) The satirical website The Onion recently reported this hilarious cautionary tale:
Joel Dashner, 34, interpreted acquaintance Lori Rezala's nervous shifting, awkward giggling, and inability to make eye contact at a mutual friend's dinner party as a sign of mounting sexual heat, Dashner said Monday.

Comes from result 11 for "Sexual Tension"

Sam closes with a profound quote from Charles Dickens, hoping to maker her appear more learned and credible.

So next time you're feeling the heat, you might want to check the other person is warming up too. And if they're not feeling it? Take heed from Charles Dickens's brilliant words on how to create the ultimate page turner: "Make them laugh. Make them cry. Make them wait."

Which is from the page on Barbara Bretton's website as described in Search Result #1:

Remember Charles Dickens's brilliant words on writing the ultimate page turner? Make them laugh. Make them cry. Make them wait.

⁺ Sorry, Mrs Pooley - I used a thesaurus again.

Woo = 'tang.

2006-10-20T15:54:00.000+10:00

How to woo a woman... (or a man)
October 19, 2006

I think I've narrowed Sam's "research" sources down to 3:
1) Wikipedia.
2) Her hot and successful girlfriends, or dweeb males in the office.
3) Companies who have a vested interest in making money out of those who are unlucky in love.

This article doesn't deserve much attention, as I don't need to convince you or anyone of how shallow and poorly written it is. I'll leave that up to respondant "jayina". You go, girl.

Uuuurgh!

Why on earth do all these blog topics seem to need to be such materialistic, mysogynist, "war of the sexes", two dimensional, irresponsible topics.

Please, for once, put something positive on this blog, like "The most loving thing I have ever done for myself or someone else", "How I express my centredness and balance as a human being", "What I love about life" or "I know I am projecting when...."

Is it really, honestly true that only sensationalist, negative crap will be responded to on this blog?

Surely some of the readers are a little more open minded and interested in being positive rather than attacking the world and each other all of the time.

Get back to the kitchen.

2006-10-18T13:44:00.000+10:00

Is it still a man's world?
October 16, 2006

Firstly, yes.
And secondly, why are you on the internet questioning my authority?

What does a hack do when she runs out of ideas for a column? Reaches for the old 'battle of the sexes' whip, and flogs that dead horse a little more.

The book Date Like a Man: What Men Know About Dating And Are Afraid You'll Find Out, incites one disgruntled Amazon reader to retort back: "I like being a woman, and I don't want to treat dating like a science." Amen.

Relationship guru April Masini's offering titled Think & Date Like A Man, provokingly subtitled "Be the woman who gets the man she wants...and keeps him" strangely purports that men see dating, as they do life, "as sales". Really?

Anyone who buys these books, in my opinion, deserves to be alone, confused, and bitter for the rest of her natural life. At least Sam - god bless her pretty head - leaves her columns open to comment from her readers, and values their input. These other dating hacks simply rehash a lot of tired cliches and make a buttfuck load more money from it.

Women, I urge you - don't buy these books. Spend your money on books that will affect your life in profound ways, not turn you into a blithering idiot. And also wear dresses, jeans are not attractive. And would it kill you to put on some makeup? Jesus.

Nag, nag, nag.

2006-10-18T12:44:00.000+10:00

Is it ever ok to nag?
October 15, 2006

As Clint Eastwood said to Sandra Locke in the classic 1977 movie The Gauntlet - "Nag, nag, nag". I don't like to generalise, but fuck it, I reckon men are a lot more tolerant of their partners flaws than women. If only out of fear. Fear of never getting a blowie ever again, of course.

Especially my friend Chantelle, a ballsy career woman, who continued on to her third martini in between mouthfuls of chips, cigarette puffs, fits of giggles and very inappropriate dancing. We could tell her partner was seething.

Chantelle must be French for "classy". Sam is a strange creature. She has this compulsion to point out that all of her female friends are either successful career women, or beautiful - and therefore better than you. Is she a feminist, proud of her friends achievements in the oppressive corporate patriarchy? Or are all her beautiful and successful friends just fuckups, and therefore good source material?

Artists impression of Chantelle.

Carn! Show us ya tits!

2006-10-12T09:27:00.000+10:00

Skin or no skin?
October 11, 2006

To show skin, or not to show skin... now that is the question!

On behalf of William Shakespeare's Estate (herein known as "Big Daddy"), I must ask you to cease and desist all unauthorised impersonations, parodies, and/or facsimilies of Hamlet, and/or any other related works, audio or visual, until such time as a) you have an original thought or b) Big Daddy's Zombie tracks you down and eats your brains while you sleep.

Given the state of topics recently, one must wonder what Sam is going to write about in 1, 2, 6, 12, or 18 months? We've done some crystal ball gazing and found the following:

"GPS Dating: Why his longtitude and latitude matter to your horoscope!"
"My man doesn't floss, should I leave him?"
"Why the spark plugs he uses matters to your future happiness"
"The Love Diet: Why acrotomophiliacs are so hot right now"

Emails fill my inbox requesting information on what to wear for first dates, what not to wear to the races, how much skin is appropriate, and what an outfit says about the type of person you're dating

I'm sure Joseph Licklider, if he were still alive, and the rest of DARPA would be proud of what their creation has become.

Gold Digging Hoes.

2006-10-10T09:25:00.000+10:00

Can money buy love?
October 9, 2006

Sam goes deep in this article, asking the hard hitting questions of some of the greatest minds of her time. Nicky Hilton, Alicia Keys, and her beautician. Alain de Botton gets a mention. What is he, like a bus driver or something?

Her beautician seems to be in somewhat of a bind:

"It's a non-stop money battle," confides my beautician in the midst of pouring hot wax on my legs. "My boyfriend gets cranky that I spend too much, I get angry that he doesn't give me enough, and we always argue over the amount our bills come too. Argh. If only money were less complicated."

I guess that explains why you're a beautician. You've got a job, spend your own god damn money. And be grateful when your boyfriend gives you money. Don't get angry at him when he doesn't give you something you don't deserve.

An artist's interpretation of Sam's beautician

There's always going to be gold digging hoes, and there's always going to be fucktards willing to part with their money for the company of a trophy he can show off to his mates. But if we look a bit deeper, why is money such a big talking point? As far as I am concerned money, looks, athleticism, or whatever all have one thing in common - security. No doubt we all want to feel secure in a relationship, and one's financial capacity can go a long way to helping that.

So lads if you're wondering why no girl is taking an interest in you, take an honest look at yourself and see what sort of security you can provide for the ladies.

Respondant anon gets my comment of the day:

All that matters is I'm balling hot young broads.

Tight-arse Tantrum

2006-10-09T14:58:00.000+10:00

Who should pay?
February 20, 2006

Sam, going for an original angle, this time poses the question: Who should pay for dinner? Yes, that old chestnut that has men biting their fingernails and women poised to decide if you will get to first base, or if you'll be stuck in the car park holding your bat.

As far as I am concerned, if you're the type of person who:
a) Gets offended if the other party offers to pay, or;
b) Expects the other person to pay

Then chances are you're not going to have much luck when it comes to dating, and will probably end up spending your nights sorting your spice rack in to alphabetical and chronological order. You also idolise Hitler, and have severe allergic reactions to compliments, rainbows, and kittens.

I think respondant Larry summed it all up when he said:

Chicks dig scars.

Word Larry. Word.

Historical Oversight

2006-10-09T10:58:00.000+10:00

"'Til death do us part"... or better booty comes along
October 8 2006

Quick question: How do you feel about the words "Till death do us part"? Afraid to say it? Disdain towards it? A quick straw poll finds those five little words are likely to instill fear in hearts and minds of never-marrieds everywhere. "How could you possibly promise something about a time that is decades away?" say some. "How do you know you'll still be in love all those years later?" quip others. "And why would you promise something you might not be able to fulfill?" Yep, those marriage vows we once happily latched on to are now in deep trouble. "For richer or poorer" has come to the end of its run, permanence has taken a back seat, and the phrase "till death do us part" has been re-jigged, amended and modified to read something akin to "till the love runs out" or more likely, "till better booty comes my way".

Classy.

Sam should check the origins of marriage vows, and what the life expectancy was in those times. Depending on who you ask, the average life expectancy was around 30-35 years at the time. Even 100 years ago the life expectancy was nowhere near as high as it is today. So you see for most of the time marriage vows have existed, "Till death do us part" wasn't exactly a marathon effort.

As with most complex social problems, there is never just one cause, nor is there just one solution. I'm sure the culture of individualism that we are slowly adopting thanks to the Americans is playing a big part. Advertising tells us that there is a perfect woman or man out there for us - or that we can be that perfect man or woman - if we by their product. Social conditioning (and Destiny's Child) tells us told that women should be independent.

We are told that there are no good men left.
We are told that if you have children, they're likely to get ADHD, start taking drugs, and make the streets in your neighbourhood unsafe.
We are told that raising a family will leave you broke.
We are told we can stay younger for longer through surgery.
We are encouraged to work long hours and put ourselves through unnecessary stress so we can afford that new car or to be seen with the social elite in a trendy city bar (you know the type - the ones with stools so small that if you make one wrong move your seat suddenly becomes a suppository).

We aren't told the benefits of forging a life long bond.
We aren't told the benefits of having children.
We aren't told the benefits of leaving a legacy.
We aren't told the benefits of growing old with someone who understands us completely.
We aren't told the benefits of being selfless.

"I've run out of ideas"

2006-10-06T12:43:00.000+10:00

The chicks vs. the lads
October 6, 2006

Sam comes out swinging with what is surely the boldest claim made in the past two centuries: Men and Women are different.

Oh toes!!~! Men and women are different!?!! OMG! Call the intarweb police!

She also introduces us to a new buzzword: Fratire. Apparently it's a word to describe a "new" genre of irreverent books written by blokes who are presumably sick of social conditioning trying to stamp out all forms of masculine behaviour, and have released a litany of Fuck You's aimed at everyone from Feminists to Politicians to Metrosexuals in retaliation. Or maybe they're just jerks, or whatever.

Sam quotes from a Blogger named Victoria, who has a problem with her boyfriend

Blogger Victoria has a conundrum. She writes; "Last night my boyfriend and I were at his Judo class and he introduced me as his 'friend'. We've been dating for over two and a half years! I felt insulted, but then I thought he's 40, and am 24 and for my age group you always say girlfriend. Is this normal? Or is this another freaky thing about him? Is it irreverent? Is he embarrassed?"

Sam's solution? Head straight to the book store to find out why!

My suggestion would be, I dunno, maybe just fucking ask the bloke why he said it. There is no point going around in circles in your head and asking anyone who'll listen what they think. You'll just make yourself crazy, and your boyfriend will think you're a bunny boiler when you fly off the handle one day because you think you've found the answer on the interweb.

The equalising afterthought

2006-10-06T09:16:00.000+10:00

Types of men (and women) to avoid
September 24, 2006

'June Marshall, author of the book The Dirty Seven: Ladies Beware!, believes there are in fact seven (yes seven!) types of such men to be weary of. There's the ScarMan: the bloke who's been wounded by a woman from his past and now he's using you as a rebound. There's the SideMan: the one who already has a girlfriend/wife/fiance, but what the heck, they might as well have some fun on the side (but not us thank you very much!). And there's...'

CUT!
I'm feeling nauseas.

Okay. So where should I start? It seems that June Marshall - who seems to hold no relevant degree in any of form of social science, psychology or philosophy - was once in charge of designing and developing AT&T's intranet.

Who feels comfortable taking dating advice from an ubernerd? Being an ubernerd myself, even I'd say no to that one.

It also seems that dear old June has also written a similar book for men called "Booby Trapped: Men Beware! The Dirty Seven Sisters: A Dating Guide for the 21st Century" aside setting the Guinness World Record for the longest non-academic book title, it seems that June has pitched both sexes against each other in a battle for your dollar!

This is the cover of the book. Nice innit? A model with amble boobage. The word BOOBY in big bold letters. The designer loses points for including the word "Guide" though - because everyone knows we don't read manuals. Right fellas?

All jokes aside, if Sam and her ilk are telling you to be weary of men who may have certain attributes - attributes that would make up only a small percentage of who that person is - then the result is men and women all going in to dates looking for those signs, rather than enjoying the person's company, and possibly having a connection with somebody. Or, to use another word: Prejudice. We don't tolerate it when it comes to race or sex - why should we tolerate it when it comes to dating?

At least one of Sam's readers has a bit of clarity:

The problem with the dating scene (people not understanding each other) are symptomatic of the psychological adaptive problem of our "liberated" society. We have lost the plot in knowing how and being willing to act cooperatively. Central or common canons of values, ethics or common vision have worn away.
For such a highly evolved species such as ours, how is it that we lack the basic inbuilt skills to cooperate enough to perpetuate ourselves via healthy-enough children? I think that our genetically hard-wired sexual emotions and drives to bond were forged by natural selection when human beings were not free and lived in a prehistoric world of threat and danger, i.e. when the tribe by necessity prevailed over the individual. Now put us into a Garden of Eden of liberty and material surplus and we wander around and eat poisoned fruit.
Today, notions like multiculturalism, individual liberty (without obligation to the common good), empowerment, and the new and revived "tribal" drivers (e.g. feminism, ethnicism, etc) and reactions to social disarray which all reinforce the sense that we are no longer part of a society of mutual obligation. Instead, society is a damn nuisance to our wants and wishes, etc.

Captain Obvious to the rescue!

2006-10-05T14:05:00.000+10:00

Men: sex, sleep and strip clubs
September 26, 2006

'"Why do men fall asleep after sex?" asks blogger Amy. The 32-year-old says that while she likes to cuddle, kiss and have a chat after, even if she's tired, her partner always conks out. So what's the go? "Is this normal?!" she asks me. I wasn't sure. So I decided to probe into the phenomenon and quickly found that this sleep-sex business is in fact an age-old conundrum.'

Either Sam hasn't had much sex, or she hasn't been paying attention to TV...Movies...Books...um, Magazines - or shit, even her Year 12 Biology teacher!

'My journalist friend is eager to know: when the blokes aren't busy falling asleep, "what the heck are the guys thinking after sex? That they want to scoot out of there as fast as they can? That they want to start a family with us? What is it!" she wants to know. '

That's like saying what are men eating right now? Some of us are eating sandwiches. Some are eating pies. Some of us are eating risotto. Some of us are eating fruit. Some of aren't even eating at all. If you want to know what a man's thinking after sex - FUCKIN ASK HIM.

'While recently watching an Oprah re-run...'

Well it's good to see Sam's earning her 50 cents a word.

As someone who's still in his mid-late 20s - ahem - I don't proclaim to be the wisest of men, or the most knowledgable of individuals - but this cookie cutter approach to gender & sexuality will only lead to more confusion.

If you are trying to figure out what your boyfriend/husband is thinks, feels, needs, or wants by trying to break it down to a common denominator that you can attribute to all men, then you're in trouble - if only because you're not communicating with him in the first place. Life, and therefore by extension - your husband, is too complex to be described in stereotypes.