Showing articles by Seb

The first song is the overall theme for the apocalypse.

Wonderful Life - Black

"No need to run...and hide. It's a wonderful, wonderful life" - No wonder you were a one-hit wonder, Black. It's the freaking Zombie Apocalypse. And you're going to stand there and get Zombie nommed? 

The second song is the one that plays during your first zombie kill.

Fantasy - Black Box 

 I guess this means it's going to be in slow motion and possibly soft focus. I'm not complaining. I'm 39. Soft focus makes it better for everyone.

The third song plays while you're getting chased by a horde of zombies.

Ooh Ahh... Just A Little Bit - Gina G

Presumably the zombies are singing this. It's a nice hi-nrg tune so the whole scene will be akin to an exercise/aerobics montage.

The fourth song plays when you're forced to kill your recently bitten loved one.

Love And Kisses - Dannii Minogue

Erm.... slightly inappropriate but as long as they cut out the rap that features the classic line "We ain't at McDonald's baby, so what's your beef?" it'll do. 

The fifth song plays when you meet your new love interest. 

Rockafeller Skank - Fatboy Slim

I'll rock a fella. But I'm no skank. As you can see, puns don't get any better after the Zombie Apocalypse.

The sixth song plays when you make your final stand. 

When Doves Cry - Prince

Perfect. Hitting Zombies in the face with the only weapons I could grab as I ran out of my house (Spice Girls dolls) while Prince faps in the background. Maybe I AM just like my father....

The seventh song plays when you think you've made it through it all.

Born Slippy - Underworld

Shouting lager, lager, lager? Unlikely.  

The eighth song plays as you discover you were bitten in the fight.

Everybody's Got To Learn Sometime - The Korgis

I NEED YOUR BRAAAAAAAAAAINS. LIKE THE SUNSHINE.

Tweets from 2011 - www.twitter.com.au/sebsharp

Current Affairs:

I don't like that Canadians are rioting. It's like switching on 'Sesame Street' and Elmo saying 'FUCK!'

"An extra $100 a year tax will fucking ruin me!!" - Tweeted by Australians from their iPad2 while watching the broadcast on their 50" Plasmas.

The real tragedy would be if Gwyneth Paltrow resigned from Apple.

My mum is devastated that equal marriage law wasn't passed. She really wanted to give me shit about being unwed every Christmas.

"Can we see Bin Laden's Body?" "Ummmm totally. Oh no, we just buried it." "I see.. so who shot him?" "Umm..*looks around* Lt....Pencil....OvalOffice..."

Kim Jong Il is dead. Richard Wilkins reports the new King Kong film has ceased production in Korea.

House Sharing: 

My habit of screaming 'Carpe Diem!!!' as I pull out into oncoming traffic seems to have unnerved new housemate.

Housemate had a bad day. Said "Aww. If you were better looking, would you have liked a hug?" Housemate glared.

Just hung out washing for hungover housemate. Having now seen his underpants would like to confirm that he's not overly hung.

Laying on bed. Angled self so that fan blows right up shorts, causing billowing. Great time for housemate to walk in, as not wearing underpants. #HiThere

Housemate just bought new 50" plasma and blu-ray. He's hooked up surround sound and cranked the bass. I just shat without warning.

Having fun at work:

Made spelling mistake. Jokingly told co-worker that english is my second language. They asked what my first was. Boss interrupts by yelling "TWITTER!'"

A client just sent me an email I'd sent to her in 2009, carrying on the conversation as if no time has passed. I HAVE TO GET BACK TO THE ISLAND!

Sat here wondering if you can buy an actual starfish made of chocolate. Remembered I was at work just before I hit 'search' in Google.

New role is hard. Someone just called to ask me to retribmagate his SSH so he can retrandle port 889 to winflun his watoodatron. Um.. *cries*

That awkward moment when you're training someone and you receive an email from MANHUNT.COM.

I hope the tech I just spoke to is good looking because if he has to get by on his intelligence, his life is over.

Thirty minutes listening to a customer prattle on about his life without once mentioning what he called for. HE PROBABLY STILL WEARS AN ONION ON HIS BELT.

Co-worker: "What the hell are you listening to in your headphones? It sounds like a cat being forced to travel through time!"  Me: "Bjork..."

Customer: "So when it asked me for an email address I just made one up, but it will still know how to send the details to me, right?"

Things I've learned from customers : If you have a thick German accent, make sure you yell at the top of your voice. This makes you so much easier to understand.

All time rudeness record: Guy calls me and then says he has to answer his mobile phone. Been waiting 17 minutes listening to him chat so far.

No, can you click on the.. no, click...with the mouse..no, the other thing. Okay. So.. no, don't type anything, just click..no, click..PLEASE?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<---- Exact copy of the amount of exclamation marks in a three line email a client just sent me #HelloMonday

0 <--- Exact copy of the amount of fucks I give.

"This customer doesn't have a domain with us but wants you to help troubleshoot because his provider isn't helpful" #HelloMonday

Mondays are such a veritable symphony of fucktard.

Customer: "I've gone over my quota and need more" Me: "We can upgrade your quota" Customer: "HANG ON, HANG ON.. WHAT IS 'QUOTA'?"

Me: "Would you like the $160 a year option?" Customer: "NO! YOU'RE OVERCHARGING! IT SAYS ON YOUR WEBSITE IF I PAY ANNUALLY IT'S $13.33 A MONTH!"

"The fact that you change your surname on each reply DOES NOT inspire confidence" - Customer, not dealing with the fact there are two Sebs in my team.

I'm not still at work because I have nobody to go home to. I'm still at work because of the really cool reason I'll make up and tweet later.

Very dumb student told lecturer his assignment was late because of our mail servers. We just sent proof to lecturer it was delivered in three minutes. #FuckYeah

Best phone call ever. As she hung up, could hear husband yell "About time Lorna! Now come and eat your bloody sandwich!"

Co-worker just mis-typed subject of email. Largest client receiving correspondence titled "RE: Your Accunt."

Me: "Can I grab your username?" Customer: "THRYDBUDIB GRFFSUDNIUD" Me: "Sorry?" Customer: "THRYDBUDIB GRFFSUDNIUD!" Me: "Um, can you spell that for me?" Customer: "D-A-V-E.."

The light in the lift was strobing so I just spent 10 minutes riding up and down pretending I was in Massive Attack's 'Safe From Harm' video.

Burning with shame:

I just tried to take off my jacket while still seated in my car. A couple with special needs training stopped and offered to adopt me.

Just received an email regarding the City to Surf marathon. As I leant in to read it my belly fat hit the delete key. Ce'st La Obese.

I still have funny tummy. And hilarious bottom. :(

Just spilled iced coffee all down my shirt. If I had long blonde hair I'd be shaking it back and forth in slow motion right now.

Did a belch so loud neighbour's kid yelled 'Nice one!'. Failing at gay today.

Opinions on popular culture: 

Make your own Helena Bonham-Carter doll by clippering off your pubic hair and dumping it on a piece of purple felt.

"Share a Coke with Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenberdorf" - No Coke can, ever.

Oh. My. Fucking. GAWD!. www.yvettesbridalformal.com

Blah blah blah sanctity of marriage, blah blah no to the gays blah blah KIM KARDASHIAN.

The exact lyrics to Snow's informer are: "Informer, curbvrzxb wctye bxdswvw dcewyvcewvc c38rrc&&#47bdvjbnc*E3d, a licky boom boom down.."

"Feeling weighed down, sluggish? I never do. I'm popular actress Kate Ritchie and I'm just saying things for money." #WhatAdsReallyMean

Pffft. I was on Google+ when it was just Google. 

Yes, Masterchef contestants. It's important to enter a cooking competition and then whine when they ask you to cook something.

"Your ingredients are beef, sand, yellow, street directory and sky. Please create your dish" - Heston Blumenthal on Masterchef.

J-lo. For when you can't afford Beyonce™

'It's Raining Men' isn't such a joyous anthem when you consider the shattered pelvises that occur on impact and the subsequent surgeries.

I miss Destiny's Child. It was fun watching Beyonce shove those other two bitches out of the frame in every video.

Thinking of pitching a queer redecorating reality show to HBO. I call it 'Gay Of Throws'.

America's judicial system to Lindsay Lohan: "Okay, I'm really serious now! I'm counting to three, Lindsay! One! Two! ...Two and 1/100th.."

David Guetta feat. some old eczema cream he found in the bathroom cabinet. Out Monday!

Pop Math: Amy Winehouse - smack + pies = Adele.

Pop Math: Jessica Simpson + Ashlee Simpson's old nose + 3 steaks + tinfoil + 300 metres of organza + flamethrower = Lady Gaga.

Ke$ha is like one of those 90's magic eye pictures. If you squint at her you can see a bucket of oil with a hair in it.

'Lady Marmelade' is pretty damn hilarious if you picture Scooby Doo singing it.

I wonder if Adele sings 'Rolling in the Derp!" to herself every time she does something stupid.

I've got the flu like Jagger. :(

Just did a poo like Jagger. :D

"I'm in the Louvre, like Jagger" - Mona Lisa, recently.

"I've got the hooves, like Jagger" - A horse, yesterday.

I bet Helen Hunt freaks out if you say you've made up a limerick about her.

Informer.. you know say daddy me snow me-a gon blame a licky boom boom down - Mark Twain

Baz Luhrmann injured on film set by crane, required 3 stitches. The crane clearly hadn't seen 'Australia' or it would have decapitated him.

Food:

Bacon - it's like the world's best blow job, but for your tongue.

If you drink two litres of Pepsi Max in two hours it makes your face tingle. Unrelated: My toes just told me to kill the President.

Had a very spicy lunch. It's changed the colour of my lips to 'whore'.

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they're like. "Dude.. you should lay off those milkshakes."

I think my friend put too much garlic in his risotto. I just burped and suddenly there's a fully wrapped kebab with the lot on my desk.

Sex and Dating: 

95% of gay men are born that way. The other 5% get sucked into it.

When I was a young gay, to get laid I had to walk to the nightclubs uphill - both ways. Carrying a mirrorball. In the snow.

Is there a site called oasisinactive.com for people who really can't be fucked dating?

Think I had another sex dream last night. When I woke up my pillow was trembling in the corner.

I don't know why everyone is so scared of gay sex. Honestly, after the first 427 times it doesn't even hurt. Much.

Sex? Priceless. For everything else there's Masterbate™.

Online dating code: "I'm spontaneous!" = "I'm in your wardrobe!"

I'm not saying you're a lousy lay, but you could lay off shouting "SHA-ZAAAAM!" and doing spirit fingers as you orgasm.

My Brain Scares Me, Too:

If supermarkets had fitted their trolleys with car horns as per my request I could have made a few inconsiderate bitches shit their knickers today.

"Is Seb marked here as an organ donor?" "Not sure, says here to cremate him, mix him with glitter and fling him at Dannii Minogue"

I just made a new notch on my belt. Not because I had earth-shattering sex, but because my jeans just fell to my ankles while bringing in the bin.

My bucket list: 1) The light blue one in the cupboard. 2) The green one under the tap in the garden.

With all these people doing freelance work I really hope that Lance is released soon.

I never swear. I don't want people to think I'm a cunt. 

If I was a girl I'd eat heaps, then lose lots of weight. I'd then hang one of my resulting saggy boobs out of the car window while driving. 

Boobs. They're like antidepressants, but with nipples. 

Okay, now that I understand the difference between a 'bucks'  and a 'bukkake' party I would sincerely like to apologise to that bartender.

That awkward moment you realise you're not in Bananarama and have been wearing a mesh half-shirt and white bra to work for no reason.

If you get 'Girl From Ipanema' stuck in your head, does that mean your brain is on hold?

Just realised I'm not a seahorse. Feeling a little bummed.

I liked it so I put a ring on it. Now I can't get it off and I'm stuck with this awkward purple boner.

George Michael, if "guilty feet ain't got no rhythm" then why don't they use it as a decider in more court cases?

The official spelling should be 'BridesMADE'. As in '..the bride's made us wear these revolting fucking outfits'.

Idea: Drag Queen Name : Latoya Yellowribbonroundtheoldoaktree

If you hiccup at the same time you're clearing your throat the resulting sound is quite alarming. 

Unrelated: Anyone know how to put brain cells back in via your nose?

A tutu isn't big enough so I'm wearing a three-three.

Time to shave both head and face. I'm likely to be mistaken for a camp sea anemone if this goes on much longer.

Music makes the people come together. But not as quickly as a sly finger up the butt.

May you all have a day so awesome you suddenly find yourself in comic book form, running through corridors with Morten Harket from a-ha.

I'm not Pro Bono. He's annoying as hell.

You know you're an Australian when someone asks you for the 'quickest route' and all you can do is giggle.

So it may appear that today I'm having some kind of meltdown but don't worry. I already have a shaved head and I don't know any paparazzi.

Would it not be awesome if timesheets were in fact some kind of linen-based time travel instrument?

Is it telling that I just created a new iTunes playlist called 'Motivation', then added one song before sighing and deleting it?

"Come on, guys" really needs that comma in there.

"If you broke it then you shoulda put a sling on it" - Dr Beyonce.

Monica liked it so she put a Chandler Bing on it.

Friend's son playing Angry Birds: "What's the fat bird do?" Me: "Takes gay men to discos.."

*This tweet left intentionally blank*

It's not an eating disorder unless you've woken up one day with a melted Snickers bar in your armpit.

I have Wham's 'Last Christmas' stuck in my head. Now you do too.

"It's gettin hot in herre, so keep your intake of fluids up and take regular rest periods" - Sensible Nelly.

WEEKENDS ARE FOR CRYING AND EATING. THIS HAS BEEN A COMMUNITY SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT.

Sit, Oboe, sit. Good wind instrument.

When I was young my arch nemesis was this prick that stole my boyfriend. Now that I'm older it's nasal hair.

The winner takes it all. Then walks funny for the next few days.

Hit me baby, one more time. OUCH! I MEANT METAPHORICALLY YOU FUCKING PRICK!

My spirit animal is Burger Rings.

No. No Limits* (see picture below)

Favourite Hashtag: 

Dorothy Thunderclunge #1930sPornStarNames

Gus Tacklewhack #1930sPornStarNames

Magnuss Von Offenrect #1930sPornStarNames

Gertie Tunnelquim #1930sPornStarNames

Terence Jollyballs #1930sPornStarNames

Bertie Fapmore #1930sPornStarNames

All the best for 2012, Tweeps! Big love, @sebsharp

Hello HIF Team!

Hoping you can help me out. I joined HIF after interacting with your awesome social media peeps on Twitter, who should be given a raise and a voucher for a year's worth people telling them how good looking they are, because they convinced me to sign with you and are great fun to interact with to boot.

I have had some problems since joining though, and they're hard to summarise in 140 characters or less so I'm writing to your complaints department instead.

1) I got the membership pack, (thank you) but no membership card. The pack told me how awesome the card was though, which I guess is almost as good. I rang the call centre about a month ago to ask for my membership card and the helpful rep apologised and promised to send me a membership card. But I wasn't sent a membership card. This makes me a sad panda. A sad panda without a membership card to take to the psychologist when having therapy to deal with the sadness caused by not having a membership card. Kind of an infinite loop you've created there, HIF.

2) When setting up the direct debit to pay you money in exchange for you covering me in the event of me being hospitalised/requiring medical treatment/getting bitten by a zombie I explained that it needed to be deducted fortnightly on a Friday. Somehow it was set up to deduct on a Wednesday, and a fortnight ago was declined because there wasn't any money in there. Mainly because I bought some awesome stuff on eBay. Sure, as a responsible adult I should always have money on my account but as you can see from the picture below, toy Daleks are awesome, and I did ask you nicely to deduct it on a Friday.

3) This rejected direct debit cost me a fee. It was only six dollars, but that sucks. I feel like I've given an involuntary tip of three $2 coins to someone who just kneed me in the man parts and ran off giggling. If this was going to be the case, I wish you'd outlined said kneeing of man parts more thoroughly in your signup form so I could have at least braced myself, or put an 'Archie's Pals 'n' Gals' digest down the front of my pants.

4) The above rejection seems to have stopped all direct debits, but nobody told me about this. That's kind of mean of you, don't you think?  I open all my mail from you excitedly in the hope that you've sent me one of these fabled membership cards (I hear they're like unicorns! I love unicorns!) but to date no card and no notification that you seem to have cancelled my direct debit. Is it me? Am I too needy? Am I smothering you..?  It's just that I've never been with a health insurance company before, and I'm not sure how to act. You look really pretty today, HIF.

5) I've set up a regular payment now from my account and paid the missed payment and this fortnight's payment. That's two fortnights, paid. I'm up to date and can safely exit the house again, knowing that if an aeroplane lands on me I'm covered for the ambos scraping bits of me off the underside of a 747 while saying 'this guy appears to have just eaten a Nasi Goreng from NoodleBox'.

6) I received a letter from you on Friday.  It tells me my contribution frequency is monthly, that I'm overdue and that I have to pay you two month's worth of payments by the 11th of October.

This is:

a) More incorrect than any of the Spice Girl's solo attempts.

b) a Tuesday. Which is different from the Wednesday you charged me on, after I asked that you deduct payments on a Friday. 

So if I'm correct, accounts are due on a regularly irregular basis and I should be prepared that you expect payment on ThuWeFriSunaturday every fortmonth. Is that right?

Um.... I know Friday evenings are great for staff drinks and all HIF crew, but you're starting early methinks. It's probably Amiee-Renae in accounts. She looks like a right lush and seems rather pushy so I'm not blaming you, HIF.  But.....I don't pay monthly. I pay fortnightly. Me no wanna be monthly. Ixnay on the onthlymay. 

And I don't owe you two month's worth of payments, totalling a frightening $298.20.  I owe you nothing. Even before I made a payment two days ago, I in no way owed you anything close to that amount. What's the giant bill for? Going on holidays soon are we, HIF? Hmmmm?

So team... owing to the fact that I signed up based on several recommendations and have since received what can fairly be described as HA HA SCREW YOU, SEB YOU BIG DAFT PLONKER I request that you please email me and let me know that:

a) You've set me back to fortnightly payments and that whoever sent the 'you owe two months NOW' letter is told that I said they're horrid and that I think they smell of gherkins.

b) That someone has had their chocolate biscuit rights removed for not setting my payments on the correct weekday and has also been forced to listen to Rebecca Black's anthem 'Friday' on repeat until they've learned the sequence of the days of the week and adjusted my payments to be due Fridays. If this requires an extra pro-rata payment for me to catch up to that day then I'm happy to pay it. Because FRIDAYS. Okay?

c) That you will get me one of these 'ninth wonder of the world' cards. It's like I've been invited to an awesome party but I've been here for two months and nobody has offered me a glass of Pasito or some french onion dip.

(If you can't get me a card I will be forced to make one of my own using crayon, and adapting the tagline 'HIF - we're a little bit crap so far™' and wave it about when visiting hospitals, dentists and Noodle Box.)

I look forward to hearing from you. I check my emails daileekly on a Montuendsay aftermornooning. 

Sincerely, 

Seb Sharp - Member Number XXXXX

**********UPDATE**********

Not 10 minutes after I contacted HIF via twitter (on a Sunday, as well) the incredible Nikki (HIF's Digital Manager) responded and provided what I would consider the best follow up I could have hoped for. She also has a great sense of humour and took my letter for what it was - a fun way of dealing with a customer complaint. I didn't want to leave, or be a bastard about it, I just wanted to get some help sorting out an issue. This gives HIF massive points in my book. Yay, Nikki - HIF should be so incredibly happy to have you on board. 

"PS - sorry to break it to you but zombie attacks are not covered by your policy.." - Nikki @HIF_Australia

**********UPDATE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**********

(The equally amazing Val emailed me and assisted with all of my issues, showing that HIF staff really do look after their customers. My response below..)

Hello Val,

Thank you very much for the fantastic follow up, I really appreciate it!

Please find attached a scan of the direct debit form, which I have attached using my rather awesome new scanner. I resisted the temptation to scan my face smiling with appreciation at your helping me resolve this (mainly because the instructions advise against it) but please feel free to picture me grinning happily. If you could picture me with hair that would be great. Have you thought about introducing a policy covering male pattern baldness as well as zombie attacks? I'm um.. asking for a friend. 

Seriously though, I'm now an advocate of HIF purely based on the prompt response and fantastic assistance from both yourself and Awesome Nikki™.  

In response to your email:

Membership Card not received with your Welcome Pack

Thanks for ordering me (another) one. I look forward to waving it in other people's faces while singing 'Don't cha wish your health insurance provider was hot like mine?' , as well as sticky-taping it to my forehead along with some feathers and a cheezel and insisting people call me Lordy GaGa.

Your Direct Debit was not set up to deduct on a Friday

So, I was all 'I'll sign up online', which I did on a Monday. The sign up gives you the option of paying on that day but starting your coverage at a later date, which I thought meant THAT would become the nominated anniversary date for payments. So I looked up my calendar and nominated the day, then submitted. About an hour after submitting it I noticed that I'd chosen it to start on a Thursday so I slapped my forehead with my palm, muttered some swear words and rang the call centre.

I spoke to someone (yes, isn't that helpful, apologies for not having a name) and explained what I'd done and they said they'd fix it up. I then didn't check up on this because Masterchef was quite awesome around that time. I also didn't notice it was deducting on the wrong day until it had failed. I have scolded my Daleks for not alerting me sooner. They responded by exterminating a can of Coke Zero. More fool them - it was my housemate's.

Your automatic Direct Debits ceased following the account rejection

Makes perfect sense. Nothing worse that multiple rejections. I know this based on my experience as a youth at the Merredin annual blue light disco '84-'86.  I don't like to name names of course, but Narelle Kempton was a stuck-up mole. Pretty sure they were just tissues down the front of her A-ha crop-top too. 

You received a bill for two months premiums (and elected to pay fortnightly)

Ahhhhhhh. I see. Fortnightly is best via direct debit. Well, I think fortnightly Fridays is they way to go and then I'll be better able to manage my Dalek buying budget. I mean save for my future. Yeah, that stuff.

And finally the payments I made were on Friday the 7th October, for both the missed payment and that fortnight - you should see them if our calculation of 5 days to process is right. If you need bank statement-type-things let me know. 

 Thanks again for showing that HIF was indeed the right choice for my very first health insurance provider - absolutely everyone I've dealt with has provided top notch service. Thanks again for all of your help.

Seb 

Hello Bank Of Queensland.

I wanted to share with you a recent customer experience that I hope can assist with staff coaching. Or at the very least make you feel slightly bad about yourselves and create the compulsion to eat your feelings via large quantities of cinnamon donuts and vanilla slices.

I have a loan with you. The interest rate on it is high, and over the term of the loan I will be paying you 1.5 times the initial amount borrowed. I’m fine with that, as this has allowed me to purchase a shiny new iMac and really without that I wouldn’t be able to write grumpy passive aggressive complaint letters to you which I feel would be a great loss to all concerned.

When this loan is paid out, I will have given you two thousand dollars in pure profit. My complaint today specifically relates to the amount of service this hefty sum provides me. 

Currently the dollar amount of service I have received from your (now I’m really stifling a giggle here) “organisation” stands at negative fourteen dollars and has knocked approximately nine days off my life. 

I base this loss of my future time on earth on the assumed damage caused by several blood vessels bursting simultaneously during the course of my interactions with your staff coupled with my diminishing will to live while I try to achieve the most simple of tasks - updating the direct debit details for my loan.

Yes, Bug of Queensland. I want to PAY YOU SOME MONEY AND STUFF. Allow me to explain further before I experience a full stroke and end up shorting out my Bluetooth™ keyboard by involuntarily drooling on it.

Every month my loan is paid automatically. You take it from my bank account. This has, for the past two years created rainbows, kittens, tap dance scholarships for several gifted unicorns and filled me with happiness and joy.

On Monday I changed bank accounts, and like a good little customer contacted the five institutions that I needed to update my direct debit details with.  Three did it over the phone. The fourth needed me to fax the details with a scan of my driver’s licence. Easy and convenient for someone who works during business hours (did you know that people have to work to be able to pay you?  Isn’t that astounding? Australia! What a country!).

With my first four calls going smoothly, it came time to call the Bank of Queenslime. The following conversation took place:

REP: Hello, this is (I’ve didn’t catch the rep’s name, but for the purpose of this let’s call her Gertrude Unhelpful-Smythe) How can I help you?

ME: Hello, my name is Seb, I was wondering if you can help me update some direct debit details for a loan I’m paying with you? I have a re.... (gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: You have to go into a branch.

ME:  Oh, okay. I’m in Perth. Do you have any branches in.... (gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: Yes.

ME: Is there a way that I could fax the…. (gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: (sighs) NO, YOU HAVE TO GO INTO A BRANCH.

ME:  Oh.  I’m wondering though - I work from 7am to 4pm, and I’m worried I….(gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: (in the way you’d speak to someone who just vomited on your lunch) You HAVE to go into a BRANCH.

At this point I was so dazzled by Gertrude’s tone I had to thank her and end the call lest I get all caught up in the moment and ask for her hand in marriage. I’m gay, but she’d totally be worth it. 

I then rang The Borg of Quitesad a second time and got an infinitely more helpful rep who confirmed apologetically that I would indeed have to go into a branch. She helped me locate one close to me. I asked her when it closed. She told me 4pm. I arranged to leave work early to rush to this branch.  I got there at half three. It was closed. It closes at two thirty.

Foiled in my attempts to pay you on time, I looked at your website and found a branch that was open on Saturday.  The closest one to me was 45 minutes drive away, but I needed to make sure you get your monthly payment. Because if you repossessed my iMac I wouldn’t have access to my Bananarama MP3 collection and would therefore have no choice but to promptly find a corner to sit in for the next few months while sobbing/rocking back and forth while humming ‘I Heard A Rumour’ from their hit album ‘WOW’.

So, today being Saturday I set off with several sherpas and began the journey to THE LAND BEYOND THUNDERDOME with a packed lunch of tuna sushi and a small diet orange cordial. After 45 minutes, a Mexican standoff over a parking space and some time dedicated to burying those who had perished on the journey I was finally seated in my “nearest” branch with my neatly typed written request and some photo ID.

The teller who helped me provided fantastic service and is a credit to your organisation. You would do well to send Gertrude over to her in the hopes she learns how to be helpful while suppressing the urge to snarl and spit at your customers.

The only problem was that she couldn’t update my details. She rang for assistance and after several minutes was informed that (uh-oh, here comes the caps lock) I NEEDED TO CALL ON MONDAY TO SPEAK TO SOMEONE WHO WOULD UPDATE MY DETAILS OVER THE PHONE.  She very kindly took my document and scanned my ID and did promise to follow up… but seriously, Bag of Quicksand  – what on earth do you call what you’re doing? Service? Why are you the only organisation that won’t let me organise to keep paying you?  Am I that horrible? What have I done to deserve this? Did I ignore you in high school? Put the empty milk carton back in the fridge? Finance a Ke$ha album?

Thus far, I’ve been insulted by the attitude of your reps, been given incorrect information, lost 90 minutes today and 40 minutes on Monday driving to and from your branches and all of this has been to try and give you six digits followed by eight digits. (Right now, you get a single middle digit).

Indiana Jones went through less to get the Ark of the Covenant. And he got a cool hat and a whip and stuff. All I’m getting from you is aggravation and the privilege of paying you two thousand dollars in interest to be treated like something that dog down the road with the wonky eye barfed up.

So, Bucket of Quagmire. The ball is in your court. I want to pay you. I have the sacred digits required to unlock my monthly payment and will happily give them to anyone in your company who has the ability to enter them into a computer so that rainbows, kittens and tap dancing unicorns can again go about their lives without a care in the world.

I will regard this action as being equal to two thousand dollars of service and will let the 14 dollars in petrol I’ve spent getting to your branches slide. Unless you’d like to credit that to my account.

Bet you don’t though. 

Sincerely,

Seb Sharp

Customer. (kuhs-tuh-mer]

noun

- a person who purchases goods or services from another; buyer; patron.

...We're all too fat, sir. But weight loss, while a frustrating proposition, is the key: when you're thin, you're healthy, & nobody bothers you - so life's always a non-caloric-cupcake-&-firework party!

However, having met 1 or 2 thin people (or "normies") in my life, I've been able to glean that it's also not always a picnic being skinny.

Okay, so if life blows for fat AND thin people sometimes, then it's all relative - except for your packaging. So remove the whole "IF I CAN JUST GET THIN, EVERYTHING WILL BE BETTER!" bullshit & approach the weight loss with a realistic perspective: losing weight will SOLELY make you thinner & heart-healthier; other than that, it's no different from being thin except all the sweating & getting a hard-on for DevilDogs.

So when the fantasy factor of weight loss is eliminated (fact: your life may stay the EXACT same & your problems may not suddenly evaporate) you're left with un-hyped, non-augmented truth: when you lose weight, you're doing JUST that: losing weight. Now - if you NEED to attach drama to weight-loss, as a sort of motivator, there's no better gas in the tank than the simple desire to shut motherfuckers the fuck up.  S'fun to watch the endlessly opinionated suddenly choke on a reality they'd never prepared for: the mutable you. Folks wanna cast you in a walk-on role in the movie of their lives: they want to minimize you to one aspect/role/title THEIR self-esteem can handle. Don't settle for being a last-billed extra in some other prick's feature; be the goddamn STAR of your OWN movie. The best revenge is when folks who've tagged & bagged you suddenly realize THEIR true roles: they amount to little more than a footnote in the film of YOUR life. Then?

Now - I'm not spectral communicator & I don't claim to congress with the dead. But I doubt ANY of this can be accomplished from the grave. As far as I know, you get one life. Milk it, sir. Chocolate-milk it, if you've gotta, but milk it for all it's worth without harming others. Treat yourself like you treat the things you own: bag & board your life & put it somewhere fuckers can't bend your pages; maybe even framed. But whatever you do, don't even whimsy about ending shit. It all ends soon enough, without our input or agreement.

Drop a little weight and it'll be easier to drop a little more. For me it's more about portion control: I'm an American, so everything I eat is like four feet tall.  On Weight Watchers, I've been rocking the Smart Ones meals, which I'm using to train myself to remember that two boxes of cereal in one sitting is not a meal; it's a freak show that belongs on the boardwalk at Coney Island in the summertime. Make the portions smaller (it's the thing no chubby wants to hear, but it's the only path: eat less & exercise. I've been doing that since Nov.1 & I've lost 40 pounds now.  And if I can do it, ANYBODY can do it.

I'm the laziest, fattest slob I know. My gut has a gut. But I'll go Christian-Bale-In-The-Machinist before I give this wicked, wicked world one more second of my life any earlier than I've gotta. Batman watched his parents killed, and opted to stay above ground to make sure the same didn't happen to anyone else, rather than crumble in defeat. Granted, Batman is fictional. But then so are MOST of the people you look up to: they're fictional. You don't see their struggles, you only see their wins. Life is a zero-sum game: there has never been a winner. Find a role model: someone who's done this life in a way that inspires you and use the lessons of their life to enrich your own (hands off Gretzky, Lunchbox: he's MINE). But find a role model, not a hero. Learn from others but be your OWN hero. 

Long story short: next meal, eat less. Meal after that? Eat half. Leave food behind. Start like that. In a week or two, step it up a little: go out walking. Bring an iPod (I recommend loading with some #SModcast Network shows). Walk for 10 mins. Then 20. Then 30. Increase weekly. A week will go by. Then a month - at the end of which, you'll have lost some weight. It may not be a breathtaking amount, but it'll be enuff to make you wanna lose a little more, maybe. And then a little more. But you can do this. Just know you're going to do it ALONE - and that's okay. This is YOUR journey. From time to time, even when NOBODY else understands why, we have to act against their grain - to get shit done.

Expect some taunts & teases from the swine, so I suggest finding a somewhat less-traveled road (but always let someone know where you're going); and to paraphrase Teddy, a walking stick's good for balance AND for making fucktards think twice about shooting their mouths off. So no more of this suicide bullshit: how the fuck do you know you're not the one who's supposed to cure cancer. Or change shit. Or inspire the one who WILL change shit. The flick has three acts, sir; stay above ground - or you'll never know what was possible; just what wasn't...

So today, eat only HALF that Ho-Ho. All this week, eat only half the Ho-Ho. Next week, it's Anti-Claus time: meaning NO Ho-Ho. Ho-Ho's won't vanish in our absence: there will ALWAYS be Ho-Ho's. Months from next week, maybe years even? You can have another Ho-Ho - after which, you may mutter to yourself "Wasn't worth it..." because that Ho-Ho becomes an hour walk to even make a dent in the caloric burning department.

We'll lose weight, @thedarkknight98 - that's EASY. Much harder to lose: the yapping, negative swine. Like herpes, they'll be with us always.

My favourite song isn't exactly that deep or meaningful. It doesn't remind me of anyone. It isn't especially moving. And it doesn't bring up memories of sadness and lost love...

Mainly because my favourite song is 'You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)' by Dead or Alive. I first saw the video for this on 'Countdown' in the eighties and was immediately obsessed with the sound, lyrics, and energy of the track. The video has since been dismissed by DOA frontman Pete Burns as 'cheap' but I was in awe of it's 'glamour'.  From the first blurred shot of the mirrorball through to the pan up as Pete belts out the final refrain I wore out my VHS recording, playing it again and again, the drum machine distorting as I turned up the volume on our mono Rank Arena colour television as high as it would allow.

A couple of months later I went to the city in the school holidays and found the 12" vinyl with extended mixes, which I snapped up with some money kindly given to me by my grandmother.  Mum bought me a dark blue satin kimono and I'd re-enact the video in my bedroom, wearing black track pants and a matching t-shirt with the kimono over the top, complete with Mum-made pirate eyepatch with silver sequins glued to it.  All that was okay but I wasn't allowed the hairstyle so I made do with growing a long fringe and teasing it up as high as it would go with a comb and some hairspray.. thankfully no photos exist and I moved on to using the Thompson Twins for style inspiration before I hit high school.

'Spin Me' was produced in collaboration with famous UK producers Stock/Aitken/Waterman who had previously only had success with drag performer and John Waters muse Divine.  In biographies released by Stock and Waterman it's been mentioned that the band were very argumentative and didn't like the direction the song was taking until an all night mix session resulted in the version we know today.

At the time the most popular club/disco lights were the set of three 'traffic' colours - each colour reacting to a different frequency sound.  When testing mixes of 'Spin Me' in a club the producers realised that the large amount of percussion and cowbell caused these lights to go berserk, in turn creating more crowd excitement.  To make the final mix they brought all of these elements to the fore, creating a non-stop high energy sound that to me just makes the record.

The track has been remixed, covered and re-released too many times to mention and amassed over 500,000 single sales on it's original release.  

Thats a fairly ambiguous question.  I'm pretty sure that it applies to the 30 day challenge and I'm meant to dribble rhetoric about how I've grown and become stronger and some other cliched bollocks but I'm going to be more literal in my approach. So here is what i have learned in the past month. 

- My friend Justin is almost as bad at ham as I am.

- The ultimate, all time champion of Christmas films is 'Die Hard'.

- Being a fucking moron pays off eventually.

- Christmas isn't the same without a brilliant short story to keep you awake at night, courtesy of Justin Cawthorne.

- Samantha Mathis, who plays Ryan Reynold's wife in the film 'Buried' where Reynolds awakes buried in a coffin, previously starred in a film where she too is buried alive, called "83 Hours 'Til Dawn" (via imdb.com)

- If you start a phone conversation with 'Now listen here!' You are 80.  Or a complete cunt.  Or an 80 year old complete cunt.

- I like pretty much everything the Pet Shop Boys have ever released.

- This just might be the greatest actor's website in the history of the world

- January Jones may be a little typecast.

- It's probably not as awkward as it looks. 

- White Russians are GOOD.  .

Ingredients:

Preparation:

No more bloody pictures.  I look exactly the same.  I weigh the same, I'm the same height, I have the same amount of teeth and eyes and everything.  Instead, here's a picture of veteran character actor Brian Dennehy. Enjoy!

Amusingly enough, this was the idea of my pal from Twitter, @nzJayzee. He suggested doing it and I thought it seemed like a good way to get the discipline of blogging on a daily basis underway.  Of course I didn't follow through with the discipline side, and am still plugging along at entry 27 of 30 a good four months later and (no judgement here, folks) JayZee didn't get around to starting.  It seems he had better foresight than I..

But... I've enjoyed doing (some of) this, and am determined to complete it even though I'll be limping up to the finish line, with everyone else having gone home hours before.  I hope there's still a banner or at least a small bit of ribbon for me to break through triumphantly, arms aloft as I yell 'There can only be one!' in a half French, half Scottish accent. (Sorry about that,had my first viewing of 'Highlander' over the weekend and it's clearly left more of an impression than I'd realised).

I think that my friends are incredibly patient, long-suffering, loving, talented amazing people. And I don't know what I'd do without them. I'm a very lucky man. 

Oh. I see. You've gone all 'security guard' on my ass now. Fine. I've got nothing to hide.

In my most awesome bag you would find - 

• - iPad
• - Blood Glucose Monitor
• - Six jellybeans in a small plastic bag.
• - My awesome new red handheld bluetooth handset (a fabulous gift from @Me55iah and @Empre55 it's an old-school style phone handset).
• - 30+ Sunscreen.
• - Diary.
• - About $12.00 in $2 coins.
• - My iiNet Business Cards.
• - Green canvas shopping bag.

See? Nothing too exciting. Move along. 

Hi Mum, Hi Stepdad. Hi, Original Dad.

I wanted to say thanks for putting me here on the planet and for watering, feeding and raising me.  Original Dad, you turned out to be a complete tool but thankfully Mum did a great job in finding a crazy, hilarious Scottish replacement Dad who is my father.  

Mum and Stepdad, I know it's sometimes been challenging and more than a little interesting for you to raise an only child that at times wanted to be Sarah-Jane Smith from Doctor Who, was more than a little bit sensitive, needed to dance daily around the lounge room with the volume turned up to 11, was obsessed with comic books and reading, was hopeless at any sport, terrified of matches yet loved burning page after page of the phone book in our old wood stove, nearly checked out of life the first time he tried a trampoline, had such a need to express love and it brought tears to your eyes and as an adult went on to suffer from depression and anxiety so great that all you could do was wait and watch as your heart ached at being unable to help your only child.

Although I've kept you on your toes from the minute you met me you've always known what to do.  You took my coming out in your stride, you understood how the bullying at school meant I didn't want to pursue higher education and when I wanted to leave to work in a record store, you supported that.  When I wanted to switch to hospitality, no problem. When I decided I might give the DJ thing a try you believed I could do it before I was even sure I could.  And you always let me know how proud you are of me.  A lot of people have put me down in my life but you've always been there to build me up.  

You've always welcomed my partners and friends and given so much unconditional love to all of them that I can't put into words how incredibly proud I am of you.  Thank you for letting me be whoever I wanted to be, for never judging me and for always being there without hesitation.

I love you, Ma & Pa. x

Noodle Box.  And Diet Colas. Totally addicted to the two and would drive over a Nun to get to them.

I've got a pretty unique way of looking at things.  My favourite thing about myself is my brain.  I love the way I think yet it's also the thing that causes me so much pain and sadness.  But I wouldn't have it any other way. It's what makes me, me.

This is a shot of the DJ console I spent 10 years working from at Connections Nightclub - looking at it brings back so many amazing memories (I was even the one that painted it orange) and it also sums up my love affair with music over the past 33 years.  Now that I don't DJ that often (I'm in Cher-style retirement) I do all my mixing on my Mac but even without an audience to play to it's still something that brings me so much happiness.

Easy.  Someone sexy, funny, kind, independent and understanding.  Although they seem like simple traits they can be difficult to find in the one person.

In the past I've had relationships with someone that was...

Sexy, independent, understanding and a hooker. No, really.  And he kept it secret for a year.

Funny, kind, needy and crap in bed.

Sexy, funny, kind, independent, understanding and cheated like it was an olympic event. 

Sexy and a fucking psychotic lying alcoholic wanker.

Sexy, funny, kind, loving, understanding, independent and leaving the country in three months.

So now that I seem to be choosing better perhaps I'll find someone that has the positive attributes I'm looking for and is actually remaining in the country.

Stranger things have happened. 

There's so many witty nicknames that can be derived from the name Sebastian.  Let me post them for you, in a handy bullet-style list. I know. How good am I to you guys? Merry Christmas!

• Seb
• Sebs
• Sebby
• Sebster
• Sebalicious
• Seb-a-stain
• Sebaceous
• Sebmeister

All of these have been bestowed upon me by friends and co-workers.

As a DJ I initially had the moniker of 'DJ Kinky'.  Here's why.

I was sharing a house with a close friend, James.  We had a common wall between our bedrooms.  I had a 'night visitor' that playfully asked me to hit him with his belt.  So I did.  He laughed a little and said 'harder'.  Poor James was huddled under the covers in the foetal position by this time, trying not to listen to the perverted sounds coming from the next room.

Suddenly he heard an almighty cracking sound, followed by a man yelling in pain.  Then the slamming of a door, and the thundering footsteps of the same man running to the bathroom. Then the following conversation - 

"You fucking drew blood! Fuck!!"

"You said HARDER"

"Fuck you!"

"YOU said HARDER"

*muffled getting dressed noises, more stomping, front door slamming*

Then poor James, who had no doubt now been scarred for life bravely opened his bedroom door and peered into the hallway, to see me slumped against the wall, clutching my stomach, crying with laughter.

"Hey Kinky.." said James.

And the rest, as they say, is history. 

I have so many plans, dreams and goals and intend to put them into action.  Or think about them.  What was this topic again? Cheese?

I'd like to return to a weight in double digits. To do this I would need to maybe not eat as many whole roast suckling boars for breakfast. And not to keep deep frying my Pepsi. Which I might be willing to do.

I'd like to write books. Real, bona fide paper, bound books.  And for lots of people to buy them.  To have a New York Times bestseller. And a big, full bank account.  I mean it's all about the art of course, but BITCH, WHERE MY MONEY???

I want to DJ overseas.  Canada for some reason is a place I feel drawn to.  Might be a Mountie thing.  Or more likely a bacon thing.  Oh, and the music. It's totally about the music. Probably.

I'd like to kill and eat kidnap and put in a cupboard meet Jason Statham.  He's a handsome individual and although he seems to exhibit staunchly heterosexual behaviour at present I fail to see how he could resist falling for a hairy tubby balding DJ with a Dannii Minogue obsession.  Dudes totally dig that shizz.  And Seb Statham has a nice ring to it. 

Finally I'd like to overcome depression and anxiety.  Imagine how annoying I could be then, feeling all happy and together.  And I could probably go outside and collect the underpants that have faded to nothing on the washing line.  Yes. I aim high. 

I love this idea.  Without doubt I would like to switch with english music producer Richard X.  He brought the mash-up (putting the vocals of one song over the top of another song's music - creating an instantly recognisable yet completely different third track) into the mainstream and has since gone on to a successful and credible career as an electro-pop producer.

His album 'Richard X Presents His X-Factor Volume One' was released in 2003 and featured guest vocals from Liberty X, the Sugababes, Kelis, Caron Wheeler (Ex Soul II Soul vocalist), Tiga, Jarvis Cocker and Deborah Evans-Strickland (Singer for the Flying Lizards, best known for their 80's hit 'Money (That's What I Want)'.  There's not a dud track among them and the album as a whole is one of my all time favourites. 

More recently he's been remixing for artists like Goldfrapp, Gwen Stefani, Annie, Ciara, Depeche Mode, New Order and Dragonette, to name just a few and he uses 80's electronica as his main inspiration. 

I'd like to swap lives with him for one day and have access to all of his equipment, contacts and studio time.  Perfection!