Posts Tagged ‘Australia’

SUCKS TO BE under the protection of the Victoria police

Thursday, October 15th, 2009
"They stole my pants."

"They stole my pants."

Yo, Aussies. Grab your guns and hide in the pouch of your pet kangaroo. Because thieves and criminals and ne’er-do-wells are coming after you. And there ain’t a goddamn thing the police can do about it.

Don’t believe us? Then consider these frightening facts: in the past 2 years, there have been 47 reported cases of theft –  in the police department. Yes, that big building bulging at the seams with ammo and tasers and pepper spray has been knocked off 47 times. That’s twice a month some masked dude jonesing for a free mug shot and a fresh set of fingerprints has waltzed into HQ without one heavily-armed, fully-trained law enforcement officer noticing him.

So, understandably, the Victorian citizenry is concerned.

Our advice? Panic. And when you’re done panicking, panic some more. Because every a-hole with a rap sheet in Australia is headed your way. And they’re carrying boxes of ski masks and ransom notes and those thingies that pick locks.

It’s “all skate” for the thugs in your little part of the world, folks. So batten down the hatches. Because your police protection isn’t coming to help. They’re too busy trying to figure out who stole their lunch boxes back at the station.

SUCKS TO BE vacationing in the wrong Sydney

Saturday, August 15th, 2009
The other Sydney

The other Sydney

In case you weren’t aware, there are two cities named Sydney in the world. There’s the one you know about where they swill down Fosters and throw shrimp on the barbie all day. And then there’s the other one, where everyone’s freezing their balls off and shoveling snow. In June.

That other Sydney? It’s in Nova Scotia, Canada. Something to remember when you’re making  plans for your next dream vacation, like Joannes Rutten and his 15-year-old grandson Nick.

Booking his trip-of-a-lifetime through a Dutch travel agent, Rutten thought he was going to THE Sydney. Instead, Berta, the dumbass travel trainee, set him up for a week of clouds and depression in the former Canadian mining town.

So instead of visiting the Sydney Opera House, it’s a night of karaoke at the Moosehead Tavern. Instead of visiting the Outback, he’s going to get a Bloomin’ Onion at the Outback(TM). And instead of coming face-to-face with inspiring kangaroos and koalas, he’ll be fending off rabid bears and frostbite.

Sucks to be 10,000 miles away from paradise.

SUCKS TO BE a char-broiled T-bone before your time

Saturday, February 7th, 2009
Her  name, oddly enough, is Medium Rare

Her name, oddly enough, is Medium Rare

We here at STBY have a certain affinity for cows. Especially when they’re smothered in A-1 sauce or sewn into some bitchin’ new cowboy boots.

So clearly, we were saddened by the sucky misfortune of this Aussie bovine.

You see, one day, as Elsie was grazing on the Outback grass, a lightning storm came swooping in. And one of those bolts of electricity found her.

I don’t know about you, but if I burn my pinky on a hot plate, I’m incapacitated for the rest of the day.

But to get seared by a 1,000,000,000,000 volts of electricity? That’s something that an icepack and Advil ain’t gonna cure.

Luckily the cow survived the grilling. Which is great, considering that most of your better restaurants don’t want anything pre-cooked.