Tag Archives: Sarcastic

When did Knowledge Become Uncool?

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Or did I just miss the memo or something?

I mean, I get it, I’m well versed with nerd-dom, I think I could probably successfully argue (in an international debate no doubt) that I even conjured up the whole kingdom but really, when did being aware of basic general information become an illness?

For those of you who have been blessed by being spared the entire campaigning activities and have managed to save yourself (quick run and do NOT look back no matter how much I scream for a saviour) from being aware of our approaching July 2nd Federal Election, this story will probably mean little to you though I do sincerely believe you will understand my gobsmacked utter confusion.

Australians were asked to name our current, yes, you heard me right, as in living in 2016, current Prime Minister and some had absolutely no idea.

Granted, we do change our PMs more than a Hippie would change his underwear but seriously? How are you even alive?

I’d ask if you lived under a rock but I’m sure your humble abode even knows the current PM! And unless you’re not on talking terms, I will never believe your excuse.

It’s Malcolm Turnball people, good ol'(well maybe not because he is really unrecognisable from the time before power went to his narcissistic head) but It’s Malcolm Turnball.

If this type of knowledge is uncool, someone just kill me now before I forget where I need to stick a carrot. In my mouth. Most of the time unless you give me a smart-aleck comment, then use your imagination.

Dear Writer’s Block … Again

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I hate you … let’s just make that clear.

I don’t know what I’ve ever done to you.

You always seem to strike at the most inopportune times, like my weighing machine just before a gorgeous date with an ice cream binge.

You mock me in your silence with your evil partner in crime – that dreaded foreboding cursor as it blinks at me flirtatiously always giving me just enough hope to think I may make it to the end and then you snatch it away. Oh, so torturously cruelly.

I hate you. I think I said that already but I feel like I have to say it twice so you know just how much agonising loathing I have for you within me.

That’s not very nice is it? But I don’t care.

You keep me away from my one and only friend, you are the very core of a disgusting, omnipresent nemesis.

You take pleasure in tearing apart two lovers, ripping one soul into pieces and then you ridicule me in all your powerful glory.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. It cannot be repeated enough.

It has been said in all its finality. Know that one day I will get the last laugh even if it is just to write down those eight precious letters …

I hate you.

Child Peeping

You Peeping Tom, you …

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Firstly, if you are a Peeping Tom, let me officially reprimand you. It’s not good.

Now that my civic duty has been adequately fulfilled the way all “civic” duties are in the 21st century (i.e. pretending to give a s#@t when I clearly couldn’t care less because it’s not affecting me – shameful I know, but another blog post regardless) , let me clear this title up for you a little. I can’t promise I’ll do anything of the sort but I’ll give it a shot anyway.

I got to thinking why Tom was such a sleazebag the other day. Was it his mother’s complacent rearing or his father’s lecherous late nights at the office. Could it be that poor little Tom had fallen in with the wrong crowd when still an innocent babe and had his mind welded into corrupt caricatures on how to pick up women? Or did Tom just happen to be lost in space, thinking about the ways he may escape Mr. Shufflebotham’s wrath when he admitted he had forgotten to complete his maths homework,  while peering into his next door neighbour’s bathroom when Mrs. Roly-Poly was you know, doing what people do in the bathroom.

I even got to thinking about whether it was actually Jack who had pulled a reluctant Tom onto the old Pears Soap Cardboard Box the local grocer had thrown away as he shifted himself onto his tiptoes to do his lewd work on Mrs. Roly-Poly instead. Poor Tom, if only he had been as quick to run as Jack had, perhaps we would have associated the lack of a suitable moral compass with Peeping Jack instead.

As you can appreciate (I’m sure), the endless possibilities were doing my head in so I brought up my trusted Google and set out to solve this complicated and pressing mystery. For once, I must admit, the actual literal version of how Tom came to be prefixed with Peeping is actually much more interesting than any of my versions. I know, it sux but such is the way of life.

Damn, I hate not being the most intelligent person in the Universe but I console myself by believing it’s someone else’s fault instead of mine, like many of my generation living in these times. But that again, is another blog post.

Girl suffers epilepsy attack after taking too many selfies for Facebook

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Bangalore: In line with the latest trend of people taking selfies for their social networking profiles, a girl from the city today (who chooses to remain anonymous) has suffered an epilepsy attack after being subjected to the constant flashes by way of her camera on her smartphone.

“One moment I was fine”, the girl explained to Faking News, “and after about the 105th click, it suddenly hit me!”

The girl’s doctor, Dr Khan says that the problem is a lot more common than one might expect. “We have been stunned with the innumerable amount of cases, some even causing permanent damage such as constant twitching of the trigger forefinger with regards to taking selfies”.

When probed on the reason for the recent increase in selfie related cases, Dr Khan explained that due to friends not meeting each other in person any longer, people were starting to have to remind one another of how they looked.

“The proliferation of selfies seems to be a direct result of an uptake in social media platforms such as Twitter, Facebook and Instagram to name a few. One of my previous patients wasn’t allowed back home because his mother didn’t recognise her own son after he’d been locked in his room chatting with his friends via Facebook for over a week. The boy even texted his maid via Facebook when he wanted to eat or drink something.”

“It is true,” one of Dr Khan’s latest patient’s, Vishal confirmed, “I was in police lockup for days because my father thought I was a burglar one night when he found me in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge. Papa thought that I had already left for College abroad two weeks before when I had actually been talking to my friends through Twitter. It took three days for the police to let me go because I didn’t know who to go to, to prove my identity!”

The girl who has currently been ordered to take full bed rest has had her electronic appliances confiscated; however her phone is still with her as Dr Khan fears that making her go cold turkey could cause heart palpitations.

Faking News would like to direct your attention to the following disclaimer, in the case of liking this article on social media networks, please note that Faking News takes no responsibility for any medical conditions that may occur as a result.

I had this post published on Faking News on Friday and it has receieved 789 likes and 79 shares via Facebook so far! I have absolutely no idea why this one in particular has been as popular as it has, though I’m not complaining 😀 Thought I’d share it with my favourite readers here, so enjoy! Happy Monday guys 🙂