The Wednesday Hate #1
Hitler did a lot of things. But the most well-known of all of his endeavours, is that he spread a whole lotta hate. I’m talking massive amounts of hate here. This guy was the king of hate. He took hate and he really ran with it.
I, too, spread copious amounts of the wonder-drug called hate, but I’m just a speck of crusty squid-cum in the hate-ocean compared to this dude.
By the way, I’m not condoning the type of hate this guy accomplished (is it alright to call it an accomplishment? Ah who cares, I’m going to hell anyway… psych there is no hell. Stupid Christians), in fact some of it, I gotta admit, was a teeny bit over the top. I mean, hating someone because of their race? That’s just silly, Mr. Hitler. You can’t hate someone because of their race. They didn’t choose their race, so you’re just being a poopoohead.
Hating someone because of the choices they make is where the real money is. I mean, Jews didn’t choose to be Jews (that’s a fun sentence to say over and over out loud on a train until you get arrested), so don’t be hatin’ on the Jews. Don’t be hatin’ on any race. That’s weak shit.
That emo kid down your street chose to be a little faggy cry-baby shithead, so go ahead and hate the shit outta him. That guy who cut you off in traffic on your way to work (you know the guy I mean) chose be an asshole, so hate his stupid ugly face (and his moustache, am I right ladies? Yeah I’m right).
I guess the point I’m trying to make is that, I gotta step up my game. I’m not hating nearly enough. I gotta hate harder, faster, and more frequently than ever before.
It is for this reason, that I am now embarking on a hate-campaign with a bit of structure. Before, I injected your world wide face with teeny (you just noticed that’s the second time I’ve said ”teeny” in this thing… I smell a pedo) weeny (haha… weeny) little bits of hate, in irregular, infrequent doses and quite frankly, it’s not enough.
I have let myself, and I have let the hating community down. I apologise for my past failures, and now I proudly introduce to you…
THE WEDNESDAY HATE!
A tiger that loves little boys! That's not creepy...
It’s Wednesday, so here’s this week’s Wednesday Hate. You know what I hate? This is the part where you say “What, Brad? Tell us what you hate.” And then I say “I hate…” and then I come up with something that really annoys me, and that the world would be better off without…
Unfortunately, I chose a really bad time to start the Wednesday Hate, because today I’m feeling relatively hate-free. I mean, yeah I could always rant like a crazy person about the usual terrible terrible things (i.e. Beyonce, Twilight, Lady Gaga, Jersey Shore, Polly Gillespie, etc. etc. blah blah you’ve heard it all before), but you deserve better.
Come to think of it, I hate myself right now, for not having something worthy of our prize-winning hatred. Seriously, what an asshole I must be. I made you read this whole damn crappy thing about hate, and at the end there isn’t even some piece of shit thing, sitting here waiting for our well-deserved hatred.
I gotta say, the first ever Wednesday Hate was a huge let down.
You know what I hate? The Wednesday Hate. That’s what I hate. Hopefully, in the coming weeks, it will redeem itself. But at the moment, it’s a massive disappointment, like your life, or like that girl you took home the other night with the crabs and the dodgy stains in her underwear. Seriously, what were you thinking? She was nasty from the get-go. I’m not even sure she was a girl, dude. Sucks to be you right now.
Dick.
And now for a completely unrelated, but absolutely essential Gingernuts reference.
Doing Things
Hi there!
Do you like to do things? Lots of people like to to do lots of different things. Some people like to go to the park on a windy day and fly a kite. Some people like to take their dog (or your retarded cousin) for a walk around the block. Some people like to touch themselves while thinking about your retarded cousin.
What do you like to do? Something I like to do is write absolute nonsense on the internet, and have people read it. You’re reading it right now. That means this piece of text-based inter-poop is just for you. That totally makes you special, right? It sure does. You should go and have a gingernut, you special, special person.
Another thing I like to do is hate. For me, hating is nothing personal (so please don’t be offended if you’re a member of one of the groups I hate, i.e. everyone), it is merely recreational and a way to pass the time.
You’re offended, aren’t you? You’re totally offended by the fact that I hate you. Well fuck you, you over-sensitive ass-knuckle. I don’t get offended when you put on that ugly shirt you like (you know the one I mean) and dance around like a gorilla with jelly on its nipples, so how dare you get offended by the fact that I hate you?
In fact, your ugly-shirt-jelly-nipple-gorilla-dance turns me on. I don’t know why, but it just does. Deal with it.
Your Retarded Cousin
One thing that offends me that you do, however, is whenever you go out into the street with your little book of imaginary friends, and tell people (i.e. me) that they’re (i.e. I’m) going to this charming little place you call hell… or heck… or Alabama… or whatever you’re supposed to call an imaginary place filled with fire or demons or whatever you think is there.
You’re being stupid and I hate you.
Okay somehow I turned this (excruciatingly) pointless message into another of my nonsensical anti-religious rants. Damn you, Buddha-Allah-Jesus-Muhammed-Krishna for making me do that again. You’re such a crafty little rat. That’s right. A rat. Deal with it.
I’ll be over here drinking my hot chocolate.
Some people like to cook and eat other people for dinner. Please keep doing this. There are too many people in the world, and many of them are hungry. Where some see two problems… I see one solution. I’m a thinker. It’s just too bad that most of the time, I’m thinking about boobs.
Tell me what you like to do? If you do a really interesting thing, I may give you a prize. The prize will most likely be crap, but it’s the thought that counts. Unless somebody who is going to rape/murder you briefly thinks about NOT raping/murdering you, then does it anyway. In that instance, the thought didn’t count at all. That thought was about as useful as square wheels on a tiger. Or any wheels on a tiger.
Free Nude Celebrities!
Have you ever wanted to see Angelina Jolie’s fantastic tits? Ever wondered about how big or small Tom Cruise’s cock is? You have? Then you probably have too much time on your hands.
Grow up. Stop worshipping celebrities. Yeah, Angelina’s a fine piece of ass, but so what? I see more beautiful women every day in the street, and nobody makes a big fuss about them.
And by “in the street” I don’t mean they’re homeless. I mean when I see them, they happen to be “in the street”, on account of that’s where I encounter most people. If they could all come to me, while I’m in my house playing xbox, that would be great. Actually it wouldn’t. I don’t want all those people in my house. My house is nice, but I don’t think it’s large enough to host all the people that I would normally see in the street.
Plus, there’s the whole “stranger danger” thing. They might do weird things in my house, and I’m not particularly prepared for that. They might touch my spatula with their balls or something. That’s not ideal, so I may prefer to keep the people in the street.
Actually, wasn’t I talking about beautiful women in the street? Why would the beautiful women have balls? Where the hell did I find these women? What street was this? A lot of questions have arisen from this. Look what you made me do, you celeb worshipping bastard. You made me think about a house full of beautiful women with big hairy balls.
Wait, why hairy? This just keeps getting worse and worse. I’m going to get back on track.
Why do you care about celebrities? Does their life affect yours in any way? Do you benefit in any way, shape, or form, by knowing what Paris Hilton has for lunch on Tuesdays? No, you don’t. You may think you do. But you most certainly don’t.
Is Tom Cruise gay? Is John Travolta gay? Who gives a shit? Let them be gay, if they are. Is Britney Spears a skank? Yes. But who cares? Let her be a skank. Is the entire cast of any reality show on MTV a bunch of fuckwits? Yes. But in this case, don’t let them be fuckwits. Instead you should kill them. Kill them all. Kill them all in a horrible stabbing-lots-of-people-in-the-face accident. That should do the trick.
There was nothing informative for you in this post. If you read it, expecting something (for example, hmmm, let’s say naked celebrities) then I apologise.
Actually, I don’t apologise. Stop being a pervert, you filthy pervert. Pervert. If I had said “Betty White’s Tits!” would you have read this? Well, you probably would’ve because of three reasons.
1) You’re a loser and have nothing better to do
2) Betty White is a fox. I’d go there
3) The internet has run out of weird things for you to look at
There you have it. I don’t know what you have, but you have it. We’ve had some good times together, you and I. We’ve bitched about assholes who bow to celebrities and actually care what they do/say/think. We’ve discussed homeless people. We’ve even talked about my house, filled with beautiful women and their big hairy balls.
Let’s be honest. You and I, we’ve grown together. You’re a good friend. Have a gingernut.
101 Dates is on the air!
Hey boys and girls (and as yet undiscovered genders) pay attention because I’m only telling you this once.
New Zealand’s first ever comedy web-series is now underway, with episode one being released TODAY (8th August 2010, in case your calendar is all messed up, or you’re only re-visiting the world just now for the first time, after years in captivity. How did that go for you, by the way? The captivity? Did they take care of you? I hope they did. You’re really important to me and I don’t want you to be harmed. Have some cake.
Regardless of the hostage situation and the endless paperwork that’s sure to follow, check out the 101 Dates website (click the link, genius) to watch episode one of what’s sure to be a wicked series.
Make sure you keep watching each week as they release new episodes, and watch the one with me in it. It’s like episode 7 or 8 or something. I’ll give you a prize if you tell me what my role was after you’ve seen it. Ooh you can barely wait, can you? Well you have to.
Have fun.
Comedy Chat! 19/08/10
Yo. (That’s what the kids say these days, isn’t it?) Yo, my home boys and fly girls, what is happening with your bad selves? You best be getting jiggy with it and getting krunk and macking on dem hoes and stuff. (That doesn’t seem like great english. A terrible start to the blog post, Brad. You’ve really let the team down.)
Now that you’re here, let me tell you about something. On the 19th of August, you’re in for a treat. Well, to be more specific, if you’re in Wellington, and you like live comedy, you’re in for a treat. Wow, and what a treat it is. It’s like totally a treat and everything. We’re treating you to a treat. Have I said the word “treat” enough, to lodge it into your brain yet? I have? Wow, what a treat.
Anyway, on Thursday the 19th of August, we’re treating you (I couldn’t resist just one more) to the first ever night of what’s sure to be a shining new jewel in the Wellington comedy crown. Wellington does wear a crown of comedy, doesn’t it? If not, that reputable crackhead homeless dude owes me some better information or my slice of pizza back. Thursday the 19th of August is the first Comedy Chat at The Katipo Cafe!
Thursdays just got a whole lot better...
Comedy Chat is a regular live stand up comedy night (well more of an early evening thing, if we’re being anal about it) aimed at giving you a good case of the ha-has before your tough working week is through.
With a 6pm start, you can come straight from your office, or cafe, or wherever the hell you work, and enjoy a coffee/cake/beer/line of cocaine/prostitute/sledge hammer in the balls/whatever you fancy, and watch some top-notch local comedy. And after all that, you’ll still be home in time to eat dinner/watch some lame TV show/beat your kids/sledge hammer in the balls/whatever you fancy.
The question is, how can you resist? You can’t. That’s the answer to the question. You can’t. That’s the answer once again, in case you missed it the first time.
Come along to the first ever Comedy Chat, on Thursday 19th August, to see ME (that’s Brad Zimmerman, for all you third-person-perspective fans out there), MC-ing and bringing to you such amazing New Zealand comics as:
Nick Gibb (2010 Winner of Wellington Raw Comedy Competition and Finalist of the National Raw Comedy Competition, not to mention damn nice guy)
Nikolai L’Estrange (weird guy with glasses and a seemingly dodgy past that will intrigue the pants right off of your skinny little chicken legs)
Nat Britten (a.k.a. N-2da-at-2da-Briz-itten, a.k.a. The Puke with a Uke, a.k.a. Bob, a.k.a. one third of the popular Wellington sketch group, Little Moustache)
Shaun Howe (I gotta be honest, I don’t know Shaun that well, but he’s a funny mofo. I’ve seen it.)
And the musical comedy stylings of Robbie Ellis and Gabe Page!
Katipo Cafe (on Willis Street, a door or two from New World Metro)
6pm
Only ten measley Earth dollars
Thursday, 19th August
Mark your calendar, not your face.
Oh, and have you lost weight? You look fantastic. Do you want to go to dinner some time?
To Infinity… and maybe somewhere else on the way.
The future is an interesting thought. The very word “future” gives many different ideas, to many different people. For some, the word implies flying cars and space colonies and friendly alien pets with tongues made of candy or something. For some, it means families and mortgages and retirement and funerals. For some, it means plans for the day after tomorrow.
For a comedian, the future is always switching back and forth between the near and the distant. In one moment, we may be thinking about what we really want to achieve in five, ten, or fifty years from now, as a performer. We’ll think about the poorly-lit comedy clubs, or the semi-adequate theatres, or ideally, the massive, fan-packed, roaring arena crowds we’ll play to when stardom calls and busts through your front door. The next moment, we’ll focus solely on the small room with twelve angry drunks in it, where we’ll deliver our fine craft this weekend.
For me, outside of comedy, the future doesn’t really mean anything spectacular. It’s not that I don’t have dreams, that’s not it at all. How dare you accuse me of not having dreams? Screw you, pal. You don’t know what’s going on in my head. Shut up. I have dreams. Big ones. Sometimes they involve Spider Monkeys playing checkers. Yesterday I dreamed about a sandwich. It was awesome. The problem with my future is I’m not really a “planner”. Matter of fact, I’m not a “doer” either. So quite often, in most fields of life, I get zero results. Zip. Nada. None. Nil. Nothing. Another synonym for piss-all. As it turns out, apathy, combined with a big ol’ dollop of lethargy, isn’t exactly good for getting shit done.
That’s not to say I’m not excited about the future. Far from it, my nay-saying compadre. I’m sure we will be amazed and blessed with many wonderful inventions and revolutions and evolutions in our society. And hopefully, if the world truly does become a better place in years to come, the very existence of Twilight (and all the somehow even shittier vampire-romance-related tripe that followed) will be erased from human memory. That way, vampires will be cool again, and the world will finally regain some degree of the sense it once made. Fuck you Twilight. Yeah you heard me.
Also, I look forward to Hollywood running out of things to remake, and then remaking all of the remakes.
Oh, and Lady Gaga’s funeral. That’d be sweet.
And I guess world peace would be acceptable too. Although I’m not crossing my fingers with that one, until the various religions get their shit together. You know who I’m talking about. It’s those booky-booky-followy-followy-judgy-judgy-killy-killy people making our world the giant, stinking crap sandwich it is today.
The only thing I can guarantee right now, about the future, is that in ten minutes, I am going to get a coffee. I will quite likely enjoy it, and then will at some point turn it into wees. Now you know this. You can’t un-know it. Shame.
Comedy – The Fringe Bar 26th July 2010
Howdy y’all!
I don’t know why I greeted you like I’m a cowboy. Actually, I don’t know why I greeted you at all. Anyway, just go with it. It’s easier for everyone that way. Yeah, just do what the nice man says. Back away nice and slow and nobody gets hurt. Wow this very quickly became a hostage situation. It’s amazing how swiftly things can go wrong in today’s hectic world.
Something that’s not wrong, in any way shape or form, is Live Stand Up Comedy at The Fringe Bar!
If you’re in Wellington on Monday, the 26th of July, don’t miss Brad Zimmerman (that’s totally my name) doing a funny haha thing at The Fringe Bar, on the corner of Cuba and Vivian Streets. I’ll be MC-ing, so if the whole thing comes ridiculously and painfully unglued, you have me and me only to blame.
There’ll be some great acts trying out some new stuff, and some brand newbies too, which is always fun. It’s gonna be a hugely fun night, so bring your smiley faces and your happy pants (which sounds ruder than I intended) and let the good times roll.
Come along and support support support New Zealand comedy!
Also, if you’re interested in giving stand up a go, come along and talk to the management after the show. They’ll hook you up with a spot at some point in the future. Wicked fresh!
Peace for now, and see ya there!
The Fringe Bar
Cnr Cuba & Vivian Streets
8pm (show up before then though)
Monday 26th July
Only $5!!!
Seriously, check it out…
As anyone who knows me is aware, I hate a lot of things. I want to take the time, however, to let you all know about something I don’t hate. Something that is really awesome. Well, it’s not really a ‘something’ as a ‘someone’. An author, to be more precise.
Before I continue I just want to say, in quite a defensive and annoyed manner, “Yes, I read!” I know this must come as a surprise.
Books! Not just for making forts!
I, only this year, have discovered a love of the written word. I thought books were just something lazy people, who couldn’t be bothered playing video games, did on rainy days. I mean, why stare aimlessly at a few hundred pieces of paper, when you could grab hold of a little controlly-hand-thing and kill Nazis/Zombies/Nazi Zombies? That way, you’d be a useful member of society for once. You totally don’t kill enough Nazi zombies. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You haven’t been pulling your weight with the Nazi Zombie killing, and now the city’s overrun. Thanks a lot, asshole.
Anyway, I know it took me a while. I’m 24. That’s a bit late in the game to find out that books actually have stuff in them. Now I can’t get enough. Sex, drugs, rock’n'roll… these are all things I consider obstacles in the way of book time.
One author who has stuck out for me, in a big way, is Joe Abercrombie. This (reasonably) new, British fantasy author is, for lack of a better word, the fucking shit. This guy’s awesome. His debut trilogy, The First Law, is a masterful work of dark, political fantasy, dripping with intrigue, deep characters, and most of all, blood.
Seriously, this guy’s good. He’s crazy-hyped by anyone and everyone, and for once they were right. Usually, people get all hyped up by stupid shit like Lady “Please Murder Her Now” Gaga, and Beyonce (the anti-talent). Joe Abercrombie is worth the hype.
My favourite character he has created, is Logen Ninefingers, a.k.a. “The Bloody Nine”. Logen is a barbarian with a body for battle, a mind for strategy, and a heart of gold. Throughout The First Law trilogy, the reader is treated to Logen’s highs, lows, and innermost feelings.
The First Law Trilogy
All the other characters Mr. Abercrombie paints in his world, are vivid and real. He knows his work is heavily character-driven, and the reader is never let down.
Anyway, I don’t really have anything interesting to say on the subject. Just… Joe = good. That’s all. Now go to his site, or Amazon.com, or Fishpond.co.nz, or walk to the bookstore, and buy his stuff. Seriously. Do it. If you buy his books, he’ll get money, and can then write more books. I’ve bought them. You’ve should always follow the every word of your emperor. Did I tell you I’m your emperor now? I didn’t? Oh, well I was supposed to. It’s all good. Nothing’s going to change, really. You’ll have to pray to me every second Tuesday of the month, but that’s no biggie. It’s no biggie… right? Right? Yeah it better not be. Because if you’ve got a problem with it, then, then, then I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’ll be major.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, here’s Joe’s site.
www.joeabercrombie.com
It’s about time: The 19 Inch Tale
I think it’s time I write another blog post. Actually I don’t think it’s time. Somebody else thinks it’s time. A loyal reader sent me an email and said “I think it’s time you write another blog post.” So really it was that guy who thought I should write another blog post. Not me. I wasn’t ready, but you forced me to write. Well, there wasn’t gun to my head or anything.
I mean, an email isn’t exactly the scariest thing in the world. Unless it has a virus in it. And even then, that’s more of an annoyance than an actual threat. I’m not gonna get a knife in my throat from a computer virus. Am I? I hope not. That would be pretty sucky. Open an email and BAM… knife in the throat. If I survive this savage e-assault I’ll know never to open emails from stabyouinthethroat@hahayouaredead.com in the future. Unless, of course, they’re advertising some service I really want or need like how to get a nineteen inch penis, or how to please my woman in the bedroom. I’m sure she’d appreciate both of those efforts.
Knew I Shouldn't Have Fucked that DVD Burner...
Actually a nineteen inch penis would get in the way of things more than it would help, I think. If you have an erection that could poke a child’s eye out when there aren’t even children in the room, that’s probably not a good thing. You certainly could never get a job as a kindergarten teacher if there were rumours out there about you poking some kid’s eye out with your massive wang. “Hey did you hear about that new teacher, Mr. Megadong? He once blinded some toddler with his enormous lumbering man-piece.” That’s what they’d say about it. I think it’s best if we just stay with the acceptable human-sized ding-a-lings we have now.
Anyway, so I’m going to write something for my devoted fan(s). I could tell you about a cat I saw on the net once who was really funny and fell off lots of difference surfaces, or I could go into further intellectual discussion about the discredits of having a nineteen inch penis. You decide. Okay, you all voted for the cat thing, but I think the nineteen inch penis is a more important issue that needs to be addressed.
What would the world be like if George W. Bush had a nineteen inch penis? I think it would be a better place. I think instead of being all like “Duh, I’m like da Prezidint and I iz going to bomb peepill,” he would’ve been sitting around the oval office, going “Hey everybody, look at my giant cock!” Am I saying that the entire state of the world today is a side-effect of George W. Bush having a tiny penis? Yes. Yes I am. That’s exactly what I’m saying.
Big Thumbs Up for my Massive Dingdong!
If you had a nineteen inch manhood, would your balls be bigger than normal as well? If they weren’t, they would look absolutely, hysterically miniscule in stature next to your freakish tree trunk of fuck-doom. Think about how ridiculous your scrotum would look. I’m talking about total dwarfing of the nuts. Do you think testicular disproportion is funny? Actually it is. Any woman who gets into bed with you will firstly drop her jaw in awe and arousal at your outrageously oversized anteater, but then laugh herself silly at your teeny weeny man-marbles. Oh what a good time she’ll have. But not your balls. They won’t like it one bit. You don’t want to do that to your balls, do you?
Some people don’t have balls. Some people only have one. I have several. How many balls do you have? My favourite type of balls are footballs. I like football. The football world cup is very exciting for me and there are millions and millions of people around the world who share that point of view. I guess that’s one of the beautiful things about the football world cup. It brings people together from all over the globe to celebrate the sport and to share the same goal: Victory! Glorious Victory! Victory that tastes like a blueberry cheesecake with a gingernut biscuit base. Ooh that’s some delicious victory you’ve got right there. Mmm smack your lips, loyal readers.
I think we’d all like a big mouthful of victory right about now. Mouthful of victory… I don’t know why but, for some reason, that sounds filthy. Mouthful of victory. Mouthful of victory. I’m just gonna keep saying it. Mouthful of victory. I’m actually saying it out loud right now, too. People are staring. I shouldn’t write these things on my laptop in my local café. The barista is giving me a look, almost as if she’s saying “If you yell Mouthful of victory one more time, you’re banned from here, Brad.” I’m a little bit concerned… how did she know my name? I never told it to her. I think maybe there’s another person I need to add to my stalker list.
Anyway, this has gone on long enough, especially since I haven’t really said anything of any value. I would apologise for wasting your time but, let’s face it, if you’re reading blogs, your time wasn’t that valuable to begin with.
Quick Update!
Brad is MC-ing Corn Stars in Palmerston North THIS FRIDAY! If you haven’t made a plan to get along to the show, then make that plan now.
It’s gonna be a friggin’ epic show and you’ll be crying for the rest of your pathetic life if you miss it. You’re life will only be pathetic if you don’t see it. If you do see it, then your life will be a giant tapestry of victory. Trust me. I know.
And in other news, if you’re anywhere near Dannevirke, don’t miss the Sarah Harpur fundraiser show on Friday 25th June. Sarah is a Fringe and Comedy Festival LEGEND and you Dannevirke people should see her while you still can. Also, I’ll be there, and you all know how awesome I… think I am. Help fuel my ego, and get tickets to this show.
One final thing, if you were unable to catch Jetlagged during the 2010 NZ International Comedy Festival, you can now catch a few short clips on the Jetlagged website to see what you missed. If you did see it, you should still check out the clips, because I’m sure you’re having cravings for some sweet, sweet travel-themed comedy goodness.
www.jetlaggedcomedy.com
That is all.
Gingernuts.
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