You were my angel for Heaven’s sakes

What’s up party people?

“We are struck by the length of time that may elapse between one knock and the next. Above all we are fascinated by the complexity and variety of the game. We see that, tactically and psychologically, there is infinite scope for sense, sensitivity and flair. There are also, necessarily, almost unlimited ways in which we can go wrong.”

- I’m sorry about the lack of posts recently. I’ve sort of hit the wall when it comes to producing content mainly because I feel as if I’m constantly repeating myself. My life’s situation has pretty much been the same throughout my blogging life (excluding my career momentum which is looking good). I can only complain about how girls are stupid for so long without eventually reusing angles and perspectives I’ve utilized before.  So…I’m working on something that will allow me to get back to my productive ways, just don’t change the channel and start reading stupid body building blogs or something.

- Music festivals and I go together about as well as Barney & Robin on HIMYM (terribly), however…I would give up a nipples to be able to go to Coachella this year. Watching Childish Gambino, The Weeknd, Frank Ocean, Noel Gallagher, Snoop & Dre & other distinguished artists? Dat sh*t cray.

- More mismatched couples: Jason Biggs and Shannon Elizabeth (American Pie), Kumar & Robin (How I Met Your Mother), Kumar & Danneel Harris (Harold & Kumar escape from Guantanamo Bay), Michael & Juanita Jordan (Seriously, the greatest basketball player of all time was married to a bank teller at one point. His new girlfriend is so much hotter), Tobey Maguire & Kirsten Dunst (Spiderman) and me & whatever girl I manage to coerce into dating me next.

- So apparently Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie just got engaged. On that note, I want to openly wonder why Angelina was villified and Mr Pitt seemed to emerge from everything unscathed after the whole Aniston debacle. Look, he was the one in a committed relationship, he was the one that could’ve resisted the advances of Jolie (admittedly, resisting the advances of a in her prime Jolie seems a lot more difficult than figuring out how Sarah Jessica Parker still gets movie roles) and did I mention he was the one in the committed relationship?

So why is Jolie the evil one just because she tried to get him? He allowed for it to happen, and solidified Jennifer Aniston’s status as America’s sweetheart for the rest of eternity.

(Editor’s note: Isaac also blames Brad Pitt for every bad Aniston movie that’s ever come out).

- Are Jennifer Aniston and myself the only two people who still yell out ‘WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL’ randomly throughout the day?

Do you think Jennifer Aniston....I probably shouldn't.

I promise I’ll have a good story for you soon. I’m working on it.

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Offer ’10

Bobbing his head slightly, nineteen year old Isaac hummed along to his iPod as he was waiting for the train at Strathfield station. He was leaning against a pole and had absolutely no bearings upon what was happening around him, he was suffering from a lack of sleep, and was only standing due to the copious amounts of energy drink he had consumed prior to leaving the house (I miss those days). Though he was pumped full of artificial energy, the odds of him collapsing at random or falling into a stupor were still relatively high.

***

He took a glance at the monitor to see when the train was coming, as his eyes shifted upwards, he spotted an extremely mismatched couple. It was like a Monica & Chandler mismatch, or a Mouth McFadden from One Tree Hill with any girl mismatch (Editor’s note: Seriously, look up his track record during his run on the show. The dude somehow managed to attain Danneel  Harris, Sophia Bush, Kelsey Chow, Elisabeth Harnois AND a hot as hell Lisa Goldstein all in their primes).

The girl looked sad, he had his arm around her and appeared to be whispering death threats into her ear. Isaac watched as her expression slowly evolved from infomercial sad to the end of Saving Private Ryan sad then Jeremy Lin getting injured sad all in a matter of seconds. Isaac couldn’t stand watching this unfold, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and quickly scribbled something upon it.

He walked towards the mismatched couple and caught the guy’s attention. Isaac smirked slightly as he offered the piece of paper to the crestfallen female.

Isaac: Call me if you ever want an upgrade.

***

The train had finally arrived and Isaac snapped out of his daydream as quickly as he had fallen into it. He watched the mismatch couple board the train and shook his head.

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

I can’t make you love me

What’s up party people?

“I can’t make you love me, if you don’t

You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t

Here in the dark, in these final hours

I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power

But you won’t….no you won’t”

- I’ve been listening to THIS song a lot this past week in between Adele sessions. It’s a song that I never skip when it comes on iTunes and one that really suited my mood these past seven days. So naturally, there is an Adele cover of the same song floating on the interwebz which I will listen to until my ears bleed, or when my computer decides to smack me in the face with a digital fist.

- Don’t be mad at the girl. Don’t be mad at the other guy. Don’t be mad at your hair for not being able to lie straight. Be mad at the fact that you failed to adapt to the situation and make sure you are never in the same situation again. Improve as a man, and as a person, use the failure as motivation, a wake up call if you will to ultimately level yourself up.

- My sister broke up with a lot of sappy fools back when she was considered hot (Editor’s note: She came over to visit me and I called her a fatty. She punched me in the stomach so hard that I had to suppress the urge to puke for a good thirty seconds. Don’t f*ck with pregnant women….and yeah, I meant that in many ways). One of her trademark moves after a break up or a brutal rejection was that she would send the dude THIS song over ICQ or mIRC. My sister is Godlike, and not only because she’s the mother of my swagtastic nephew.

- F*ck yeah, a Tumblr dedicated to all things Jeremy Lin. Probably the second best Tumblr out there behind What the F*ck is Michael Jordan Wearing.

- If you asked me whether I wanted to graduate a semester earlier or become a master at Street Fighter X Tekken…I’d probably say graduate, but there would definitely, definitely be some hesitation before I gave you my final answer.

- Isaac: I’ve got lines like Whitney Houston before she died

Girls: OOOOOOHHHHH

Isaac: Too soon? I will always love you Whitney

Girls: OOOOOHHHHH

I wonder if Whitney watched South Park.

Friend: Hey Isaac

Isaac: Yeah?

Friend: You know how we’re not very close

Isaac: Yeah…?

*Silence*

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Attitude ’10

Ice cream was never a question, but always the answer. Nineteen year old Isaac, accompanied by one of his closest (and shortest) friends were both enjoying massive sundaes. They had both recently endured tumultuous periods involving the opposite sex, so the ice cream tasted extra sweet. Eventually, the last spooful had been gulped down and it was time to move on to the next place in which they could bitch about their recent sagas. Isaac groped around his bag for his wallet intending to pay for both of their desserts, she was not a romantic interest (Editor’s note: She is the second last, if not last person on this planet he would ever consider) but still Isaac was trying to keep chivalry alive.

He looked up and realised his friend was already gone. She was already outside waiting for him to pay.

***

Isaac caught up to her grinning widely.

Isaac: Dude, I was always going to pay but at least pretend

Friend: Oh sh*t, I forgot

(Editor’s note: She didn’t forget)

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

I’m spending time just taking care of me right now

What’s up party people?

A: Do you like her?

Isaac: It depends on the day you ask me

A: What does that mean?

- Shout out to all the party people that understand EXACTLY what I meant in that opening quote.

- Saw Mission Impossible 4 earlier in the week. First off, Paula Patton either has one of the finest racks ever or one of the hardest working bras in the business. After careful research (Editor’s note: He would be destroyed if his Google search history ever becomes public) I am happy to say that it’s the former. Secondly, Tom Cruise definitely isn’t a member of the ‘I Never Show Signs of Aging All Stars’ that feature the likes of Samuel L Jackson, Will Smith, Rove McManus and Jennifer Anniston. Poor Mr Katie Holmes’ wrinkles were more glaring than the horrible dialogue throughout the movie.

Anywho, I actually really enjoyed the fourth installment of the series. The set pieces were incredible, the scene where Mr Cruise is climbing that building in Dubai had me uber tense like I was waiting to receive a massage from a 300 pound guy, it was incredible. Obviously the dialogue was pretty bad, the ending was shockingly terrible (Editor’s note: Might not be a bad idea to walk out twenty minutes before your scheduled ending time) but I still had fun watching Paula Patton’s jigglypuffs and Tom Cruise’s age lines.

- One of my favourite R&B songs from the 90s

- Facebook Timeline…not sure how I feel about it yet, but I just spent the last ten minutes looking through some of the highlights of 2009 & 2010 and felt some tingles that only good memories can create. I doubt anyone else looking through them will feel the same way but if it brings me amusement then shout out to Mark Zuckerberg.

- Has anyone realised that Gillian Jacons (Britta from Community) looks like Avril Lavinge after a nice, long shower?

- As catchy as the song is, I don’t get why Adam Levine would talk about having Moves like Jagger. The dude is a dinosaur and I’m pretty sure the cane he uses isn’t for pimp purposes, what about moves like Hagrid? You’ve got them half giant moves son (Editor’s note: Definitely in the running for lamest joke ever on this site, and that’s saying something)!

- Shout out to all the females who say they’re interested in nice guys and yet still have at least three dozen of them locked in the Friend Zone.

- Real talk section:

Look, I don’t really escape the daily grind all that often (Editor’s note: Gloria Jeans paid me to write that line. Bite me whilst I enjoy my refreshing Iced Tim Tam. Mmmm); I’m either at home, at the city, or on the way to work. I don’t explore all that often, and very rarely leave my comfort zone. So when I made the hour long drive out to Camden to visit a friend, I felt an adventurous spirit in the air (Editor’s note: Whilst in the car, he yawned at least seventeen times. Not an exaggeration). Everything just seemed NEW, trivial facts seemed fascinating (Did you know that the main street in Camden has three Dentists?), and the food was divine.

I was there with a couple of friends, and even though the place’s main attraction was…ummm I actually don’t know, the point is though…you can go pretty much have fun anywhere with a sick entourage

Oh by the way, did you know Camden has a population of 50,000 people AND an airport?

Sick stuff.

If he was a vet, he'd know how to tame a p*ssy. (Too explicit?)

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Devil ’10

The small cinema was void of life forms set for two Asian teenagers sitting smack bang in the middle of the theatre. Nineteen year old Isaac took a long sip of his soda as the credits for the movie: Devil (Editor’s note: Trailer HERE) started showing on the screen. Isaac wasn’t usually a fan of horror movies, but he had been watching the trailer for this one for several months now and he finally caved.

(Editor’s note: Prior to the movie starting, Isaac made sure that he would remain stoic throughout. He mentally prepared himself for random moments of horror and swore that he would not scream, jump or shake at any point during the screening. He did not need to have the movie spoiled, he would be fine).

***

He was fine for the first sixty minutes…and then.

The climatic scene happened.

And Isaac completely forgot about the pact he had made earlier

Isaac: Phwoaarr—ARGHHHHHH. WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON?!

He was suddenly standing on his seat freaking the f*ck out. The girl he had come with was also screaming as if bloody murder was happenning right in front of them.

That was the last horror movie Isaac ever saw in the cinemas.

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

The woman that I would try, is happy with a good guy

What’s up party people?

K: I like your thinking

Isaac: I think we should be together

K: Ok

I don’t care that rabid fans of Friends call How I Met Your Mother a blantant rip off, it’s still one of my favourite TV shows of all time (Editor’s note: The list includes South Park, Dragon Ball Z, One Tree Hill, Community). One concept floated by the show that I kind of want to talk about is the ‘Graduation Goggles’ phenomena. It’s when one approaches the end of something (say schooling, a job, relationship) and only tends to remember the good times.

Take high school for instance.

Yes, I remember most of the good times. A lot of those moments would make the final highlight reel I would want played at my funeral with R.Kelly’s: ‘The World’s Greatest’ blaring as the background track. However, I also remember why I wanted to finish. I wanted to move on with my life, I wanted to sever ties with people I had no intention of associating myself with after high school, I wanted to wear something other than the sky blue and maroon of my high school. THAT’s why I was ecstatic upon graduation and elated when I finished my HSC, I was looking forward to moving on with my life.

I’m currently rocking a pair of these goggles right now.

I’m leaving my place of employment in a little less than a month and I’ve been feeling quite down about it. In the midst of my work Christmas party, I was just wandering around and realised that I would never get to enjoy a party like this with my beloved coworkers again. The odds of me ever being the Easter suburbs after I leave my workplace are close to non-existent, random encounters will be rare and it’s a high possibility that I will never see some of these people again. I won’t get to watch movies for free anymore, or enjoy discounted ice cream, or get caught dancing on the doors of cinemas by laughing patrons.

Then I took the goggles off and realised

Wow I won’t have to travel over an hour to go to work anymore, I won’t be constantly stuffing my body with easily accessible junk food, I won’t have to deal with every horrible demographic of human beings anymore, I won’t have to be belittled and unappreciated at work anymore, I won’t have to work my ass off day & night for minimum wage, I’ll actually be able to enjoy my weekends again.

****

Look, breaking up with someone is hard unless you’re a six foot Chinese guy who has ice in his veins (Editor’s note: He’s really 5’10′ but whatever). Some random thoughts that go through people’s heads as they start getting hesitant about cutting the cord on their relationship baby include (but are not limited to):

- But I love her…

- We’ve invested so much in each other

- She has a tattoo of my name on her back

- Sh*t I forgot her name

- I’ll have to get a refund on those plane tickets…

- We’ve had so many good times together.

That last one’s a bitch. You start thinking about your first date, how she wore that provocative dress and those heels that made you feel like Tom Cruise standing next to Katie Holmes. You remember how you smile everytime she laughs in that weird high pitched way that’s unique to her, you think about the time you went to the Zoo, the Aquarium, when you met her little brother and started teaching him how to play basketball. You remember the time you guys did the wild thing in the shower and the first time she cooked for you.

(Editor’s note: BTW: Most of this stuff DID NOT happen to Isaac. Most….)

It’s hard man, believe me I know. Think about it though…there HAS to be a reason why you’re about to break up with them in the first place. That’s why you’re here.

Don’t linger on the good times, there were bad times too.

That’s why it’s coming to an end.

This would make a Hell of a movie scene

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Rice Cakes ’10

There was very little energy being displayed by the staff at the Ritz Cinema this Saturday morning. Most of them were still tired or hungover from the weekly Friday night festivities they engaged in, the one exception was nineteen year old Isaac who was buzzing off several cans of V and was bouncing around the place like one of those balls one could get via exchanging twenty tickets at Galaxy World.

As Isaac catered to all the patrons, most of his friends/coworkers were hiding out back nursing headaches and sipping on soft drink/tea/juice in an attempt to recover quickly. Isaac didn’t mind, he still felt new even though he had been there for over a year and he had a thirst to prove himself like all good, new employees.

One of Isaac’s friends popped out of the back with a pack of rice cakes and an inquisitive look on her face.

J: Hey Isaac, are these rice cakes your’s?

Isaac sensed an opportunity to troll…so he went with it.

Isaac: OH SO JUST BECAUSE I’M ASIAN YOU ASSUME ANYTHING WITH RICE IS MINE?!

Isaac’s friend immediately started looking guilty and began to sputter:

J: Oh I’m sorry, I was just asking

Isaac: Well yeah…er they actually are mine

J: Oh! See, I knew it!

Isaac: They’re not mine you racist!

Good times

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

I wish we never f*cked and I mean that. But not really, you say the nastiest shit in bed and it’s f*ckin’ awesome

What’s up party people?

“Whether we know it or not, each of us lives a life governed by an internalised code of conduct. Some call it morality. Others call it religion. I call it….the Bro Code.

- Other than the Bro Code, very few things can unite people like music. During the Eminem concert I attended last Sunday, there was a moment in which I sort of zoned out and started staring at the crowd. Everyone was feeling the music, holding lighters/sparklers/phones/what appeared to be a green lantern up as Eminem spit his verse on Lighters. It was magical…you just had to be there (Editor’s note: For the poor suckers that weren’t, HERE’S a dot point summary of Isaac’s experience at the concert).

- I went to watch Ides of March (Great film, Ryan Gosling is running Hollywood right now) and Arthur Christmas the other day. In terms of the latter film, I think it’d be hella cool if someone took the premise in a completely different direction and gave it an adult twist. It’s pretty much a coming of age story about Santa’s sons….I was thinking..how cool would it be if Santa was flying around on Christmas Eve and giving girls a present of a different kind….and then fathering several illegitimate children. No? What do you mean I should be put in jail?

- Speaking of movies….here are my five favourites released this year in no particular order: Captain America, X-Men: First Class, 50/50, Ides of March & Thor (Honourable mentions: Fast Five, Crazy,Stupid,Love and Tila Tequila’s lesbian sex tape).

- Who the f*ck are the Hilltop Hoods?

- I think this is the most underrated Ne-Yo song ever. Seriously.

- Since when did Twitter become a blog?! I know it’s referred to as a micro blogging site but God dayummm…

- Time is one of the greatest cures for teenage maladies such as PMS, heartbreak and rejection…but one of the quickest, most effective remedies is simply letting out a roar of primal fury in an empty house whilst pretending to slam dunk on the ceiling fan. No, that did not happen with me….I pretended to slam dunk on something else cause my house is air conditioned.

Hold dat.

If that's the case....ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

So we’re done? This the real shit?
We used to hold hands like field trips
I’m a jerk, but your dude is a real dick
I read his post on your wall and I feel sick
He ain’t cool, he ball and all that
But he just a fake n*gga who blog in all caps
You coulda wait to date
I’m going straight for your thighs like the cake you ate
I give a fuck about the niggas that you say you hate
You know that I’m the best when I’m a-fake-tionate
I’m the best that you had, face it

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Text Message ’10

What does one do after a near death experience? Nineteen year old Isaac was breathing hard, but that was the only visible sign that he had been shaken by the incident that had just occurred. The next day, he would describe the harrowing incident like this:

“As I was walking to work yesterday, I was nearly struck down by an elderly male driver. I was walking across a pedestrian crossing and he didnt stop until I was crouched onto his hood. Yeah I need to explain that, I saw that he wouldn’t be stopping before the collision, so I jumped up and managed to land on the hood of the car just as he broke.

Back in the day, I probably would’ve been able to jump and clear the car completely, but I have a lot of mileage in these legs ok? Anywho, after surviving that incident, I started thinking about what would’ve happened if the car had made impact. Would I have merely broken a few bones? Maybe mess up my knee? Damage my ACL, MCL? Die? “

***

He had stopped breathing hard, his respiratory system had returned to normal. His mind was elsewhere as his body kicked into autopilot, his legs driving him towards work as they had done so many times before. He thought about what his hypothetical funeral would’ve been like….his parents would’ve been devastated that they had lost their most prized investment that didn’t contain a bathroom or state of the art kitchen, his sister would’ve been upset that her son never learnt from the brother she considered the perfect son.

His friends…well they’d be glad the blog died.

What about her…?

His walk slowed down a little bit…what about her indeed. Would she even blink? Would she cry unashamedly upon hearing the news that his romantic pursuit had ended with a crash….one that she had not inflicted upon him.

Isaac genuinely wondered how she would’ve reacted.

He pulled out his phone, and began composing a text.

So…what does one do after surviving a near death experience?

Isaac didn’t know about everybody else, but he wanted to check on someone he loved. That’s it.

(Editor’s note: This is what happens when Isaac writes whilst listening to a slew of depressing songs).

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

Hate Sleeping Alone

What’s up party people?

“Hey y’all

I come to talk about this girl that had my love ya see

I went away for a while, and

She gave my love away, and

I really shouldn’t blame her

But now that pussy is a stranger”

One of the most obscene violations of the Bro Code is the dating of a bro’s ex. It’s a sin and punishment can range from repeated whipppings or the person being forever banned from bromantic poker nights that feature kegs on kegs on kegs of refreshing beer and flexible Ukranian strippers (Editor’s note: Do not ask him why it’s so specific). In an earlier entry; I mentioned some factors that would make it ok:

“- They were in a very, very short term relationship.

- It was a long time ago

- You have your friend’s (reluctant) consent

- We’re all adults now, we all have some baggage, this should not be a big deal whatsoever

In some cases, all of my points are valid so you should go ahead and bang the f*ck out of each other guilt free. However, look at that third point again, reluctant consent. At first glance, you probably thought I meant that your friend was reluctant because it’s just plain weird for him to see you dating his girl. Look at my point again though, why would he be reluctant?

Because they broke up.

Meaning there was a reason it didn’t work out, and it could very well have been something to do with her. As a bro, he reluctantly agrees to let you try your luck with her but reminds you to be cautious. Of course, he’s not free from blame, but neither is she. Entering a relationship with someone who has failed, with your friend (who you have a successful relationship with), is a huge red flag and frankly should not be considered in the first place.”

So why would I bring that up? Most folk think that this is the ultimate cardinal sin, I actually think that’s something else much worse, something that on a personal level, hurts a bit more. For me, I frankly don’t give a f*ck if you go out with one of my exes. As my friend, you know why it didn’t work out and if you think you can bring something different to the table, I urge you to go for gold.

You know what’s worse?

Can I get an epic drum roll please

*DRUMROLL*

Thank you.

What’s worse is dating one of your friend’s prospects that didn’t work out.

Allow me a few hundred words to clarify. What I define as a prospect is someone that your friend genuinely felt a level of affection for, but the circumstances didn’t allow them to become a couple. Or the girl just flat out rejected his Chinese ass whilst shuffling awkwardly to the LMFAO song that was playing in the background. The key difference between this, and an ex is that your friend had a chance with the ex and failed. With the prospect, they didn’t even get a chance to get a chance…that’s way worse for me.

Again, this is likely to only apply for me since most people do not fail with so many girls. I’ve failed with so many girls that you could probably gather them all up and assemble a calendar, entitle it ‘A Complete History of Isaac’s Sexual Failures,’ and sell it for $8.95 (Editor’s note: Again, don’t ask).

It’ll happen soon, I have some good looking and charming bros and the girls I’ve liked in the past are all really nice (Editor’s note: He means it, he’s not calling them ugly). So when it does happen, I’ll probably give my bro a dap, maybe an epic high five.

But I sure as Hell won’t be buying them a Ukranian lap dance from Svetlanka.

Someone said that my demotivational posters were getting more and more sleazy. To that I say....you are correct sir.

I’m working on another research report, and by working on I mean thinking about it. However, this one’s a lot harder to piece together because of a lack of sample. It’s a lot easier to find people willing to go on record as to why they would reject me than for this topic.

I will now lock myself in a small room and put Justin Bieber’s album on repeat to torture myself.

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Hand ’10

Parties were the epicentre of drunk encounters. For some folk, alcohol was the key that helped unlock themselves from their shy and conservative exteriors, it is with alcohol that they can unleash their inner extroverted and friendly selves. They then converse with fellow alcohol consumers, making best friends within minutes and starring in enough photos to show their kids someday when those same children accuse their parents of never being cool (Editor’s note: What parent shows their kids partying photos…silly Isaac).

It is also in this state where some people make bad decisions.

In nineteen year old Isaac’s bed, one of the inhabitants was beginning to stir after what was a very long night.

***

Isaac opened his eyes slowly, it was still early in the morning as his room was still shrouded in darkness. He felt a hand on his chest and was suddenly very, very confused. He had attended a friend’s birthday the previous night, he had clicked with a few females, but he did not recall doing anything about it. What was also very confusing was that his head throbbed, he did not recall drinking anything but water and lemon lime bitters.

He did not know what to do, he merely stayed in the same position for a while with his eyes open.

He took a quick glance out of the corner of his eye and saw that the blanket was pulled way over the pillow, covering the person’s face.

Sighing, he knew he couldn’t delay it any longer. He stretched and felt the hand on his chest disappear.

Confused he rose up and sat on his bed, his eyes were adjusting to the dark and he realised the person in his bed was of a slender build for their mass barely registered.

Wait.

Isaac pulled aside the blanket with a flourish and saw that there was no one there. He touched his chest with his left hand and it all made sense.

The idiot had simply been lying on his own hand.

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

Might have been a time when I loved her too

What’s up party people?

Isaac: One of the recurring themes of that Q&A was that we should expect rejection…I’ve been rejected by a tonne of girls, I have tonnes of experience.

Instead of partaking in Oktoberfest shenanigans, I dragged myself to a Criminology careers seminar last thursday in order to gauge what the odds of me landing a lucrative job right after graduation were. There was a panel which consisted of five folks who had been fortunate enough to establish themselves in the industry and it was really interesting to hear how they got to where they were.

Even though I had a fair grasp on what skills I had acquired that would help me in the long run (Editor’s note: Read HERE. One of the only practical posts he’s ever written); I was still curious as to what these successful people had utilised. Even if they said the exact same things I did, at least they had credibility. The only things I’ve achieved in my life so far are….

…

…

F*ck, let’s just see what they had to say:

“Skills matter a lot more than expertise.”

Five person panel, degrees were as follows:

- One dude did social science/social work

- One dude and two of the dudettes did raw criminology degrees

- And the most qualified guy did psychology with a masters in criminology

One thing all those courses have in common is an emphasis on research skills. You know how there are a million stories in the paper that claim ‘a new study has found…’ well, social scientists are grinding all the time coming up with those findings. Admittedly, none of them set out to get published in mX but hey, whatever it takes for a paycheque. Sorry, that was not my original point, my original point is that though you go through a tonne of content in any given degree, the SKILLS you acquire matter way more.

Consider a teaching degree.

It doesn’t matter if you choose to major in history, math or English. What matters is if you learn how to get these lessons across to the kids you’ll eventually be teaching.

In my degree. It doesn’t matter if I know what year the UN charter of Human Rights came into place, or what section of the Crimes Act homocide comes under. All that matters is I know when to find the information when I’m required to and write effectively in order to get my point across.

“Experience Matters”

Not going to lie, this made me crap myself.

Every panelist emphasised how important it was for any prospective employee to rack some experience prior to entering the big leagues. I agree wholeheartedly and that is one of the main reasons I intend to enroll at Macquarie next year (the masters program offers an internship that is worth course credit). One must place themselves in the shoes of employers, they have to sift through hundreds of resumes whenever there is a vacancy. It is likely that all would have done well in their studies and all of them are reasonably comparable.

One thing that will separate a good candidate from an average one is experience. Internships, volunteer work, whatever…as any good Pokemon player will know, experience points add the f*ck up.

“Write well and often”

I grinned.

During the application process, it is likely that the bulk of your communication with a prospective employer will be via email. If you write like you still use Bebo then its very likely that you won’t be scoring a second round interview. However, if you know how to write correctly and concisely during your correspondence, the odds of you succeeding are a lot higher.

Unless you intend to enter an industry where writing is unnecessary, refine your style, get feedback and just practice.

Maybe via a wordpress blog ala Isaac.

Actually don’t do it. Especially if you intend to enter the criminal justice arena…er…don’t do anything, rest on your laurels and continue your bebo activities.

“Get your foot in that ass”

No one said that. They said: ‘get your food in the door,’ but I much prefer my remix.

Anywho, the main point is that, you will not start on top straight away. Those internships and volunteer jobs I mentioned earlier? They probably pay poorly, and the tasks you’ll be required to do will be far from glamorous.  You gotta start from the bottom before clawing your way on top. One of the panellists (who refused to disclose exactly where she worked. I’m guessing ASIO) started her career taking police radio calls. Now? She somehow has the highest security clearance possible.

Get in that ass.

“You’re going to get rejected….a lot.”

There are a lot of people out there, and not that many jobs.

Simple supply and demand.

Every panelist said that the positions they applied for all had up to five hundred applicants for a single opening. It’s crazy competitive, even if you’re in the top 5% in terms of academic strength, that 4% above you gets first dibs on the jobs you want.

Honestly though, I expected that and it doesn’t phase me. I get rejected so much as it is, I think I’d be ok considering my eventual success has a much higher pay off than hooking up with some random girl.

“Do things outside of the job description”

In other words, bang a prospective employer. At least I think that’s what it means.

Whatever it takes.

I know things get hard girl but you got it girl
You got it there you go
Can’t you tell by how they looking at you everywhere you go
Wondering whats on your mind, it must be hard to be that fine
When all these muthaf-ckas wanna waste your time
It’s just amazing girl, all I can say is
I’m so, I’m so, I’m so, I’m so, I’m so proud of you
I’m so, I’m so, I’m so, I’m so, I’m so proud of you
I’m so, I’m so, I’m so, I’m so, I’m so proud of you

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Knowledge ’10

“Better late than never, but never late is better”

Those Drake lyrics ran through the mind of Isaac as he alighted the train at Newtown Station. He was ahead of schedule, most of his friends were still on the way but he didn’t care. They were to gather there to celebrate a friend’s birthday, one of the rare occasions that Isaac actually ventured out of the house and took a day off work. You’d often hear him say something along the lines of:

“Damn it, if it wasn’t *INSERT NAME HERE*’s birthday…I’d totally be at home right now”

Nevertheless, there he was. His phone vibrated with a message indicating the impending arrival of one of his bros.

****

Isaac: Sup?

The two friends exchanged handshakes and quick bromantic hugs before walking towards the restaurant the festivities were to take place. They exchanged a little small talk as per usual, Isaac didn’t need much of a prompt to launch straight into one of his often repeated stories. Isaac’s friend nodded silently, looking slightly bemused as Isaac recounted his tale. The tale he chose for this moment was the one in which he had managed to survive what should have been a fatal collision with a car.

Isaac finished his story with gusto, grinning at how awesome his life would look to someone else.

J: Er yeah dude, you gotta keep in mind that I read your blog. So I already know that story.

Sh*t, not that awesome afterall.

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

I know it sounds strange to you, but I never moved on

What’s up party people?’

S: I’ve done well for myself Isaac. I’ve got me a rich girl.

- I’m typing this stanza without looking because I’m also watching the new South Park documentary that just dropped. It’s entitled Six Days to Air: The Making of South Park and documents the creative process behind the construction of an episode. It’s absolutely amazing; Matt Stone and Trey Parker aka the creators/writers/voice actors/legends/demigods have to come up with an idea, write the screenplay, voice the characters and get it animated all in less than a week. And here I am boasting about how I finished two assignments in three hours today (Editor’s noe: Anyone still feel like he’s gloating?)

You know how the week before/after a midsem break is absolutely insane? You have a few assessments, maybe a presentation, perhaps a tonne of readings to do. You pull one all nighter, down a couple of energy drinks and some snacks, hand it in then sleep in the following weekend.

The South Park guys do that every single freaking week. Except instead of getting feedback from one marker, they air to millions of people all over the world and deal with the asskissing and venom of everyone who has an opinion.

- Shout out to everyone who read my last post about why girls decline my advances. I’m a little hurt that no one even questioned any of it; it would’ve been cool if someone had come up to me and said something along the lines of: “No way, no one would ever reject you like that! You boned her didn’t you?” Apparently it’s really easy to envision me getting turned down…I will now lay down in a bathtub full of leeches.

- THIS is one of the saddest songs ever. And yes, yes I did have it on repeat all of last night.

- I don’t like fruit roll ups. Firstly cause they get stuck in your teeth and are really just expensive types of candy. Secondly because they remind me of the worst type of females: they’re artificial, they also get stuck in your teeth and they’re ridiculously transparent.

Hold Dat.

- 16 days away from having a degree to hang over the fireplace. Yes, yes I am hyped. So hyped that I handed in an assignment three days early, yes, yes I am THAT guy.

Sh*t, I just put myself on blast

K: Pooface! Sorry Isaac, I didn’t mean you

Isaac: Hmmm…I don’t think I can make anything sexual out of that

K: What? Pooface?

Isaac: Got it! It’s what a dyslexic person thinks the 69 is…except they call it a 96

I’m a horrible, horrible person.

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Prostitute ’10

When one envisions a casino, they envision glory, happiness and triumphing over the laws of probability. Maybe they picture well dressed men rolling the dice both literally and metaphorically being watched over by women dressed in the nines hoping to snare a man that will guarantee their financial futures. Or, they just picture a tiny Asian man hunched over a pokies machine frantically pulling the lever hoping that he’ll win and be able to give his boss the finger whilst dishing out insults the next day.

No one would ever picture a group of drunk teenagers who were barely over the gambling age strutting towards the casino, well, unless you knew nineteen year old Isaac and his friends. A dozen of the aforementioned drunk teenagers were walking together in a wolf pack towards Star City where they intended to party long into the night. Isaac? He was just there to take photos and dish out one liners like an expensive coke dealer.

He had an arm around one of his best friends, they were speaking rapidly and bursting into obnoxious laughter every few minutes. Eventually some of the girls caught up with them and jumped into the conversations being conducted. One of Isaac’s oldest female friends wrapper her arms around the waist of another one of Isaac’s friends and whispered something into his hear. Isaac saw his buddy shake his head and blinked rapidly as his old female comrade then approached him.

She wrapped her arm around Isaac’s waist and looked up into his eyes with an intense gaze usually reserved for bedroom antics (Editor’s note: The only things Isaac do in his bedroom are eat, sleep, play video games and an activity that I can’t write about if I want to keep this PG-13).

Isaac felt it in the air, this was one of those moments where he could show off his charm and wit. It was this side of him that girls found most endearing.

Then, in a split second, he changed his mind and decided to revert to the side of him that most males found most humourous.

Isaac: I’m sorry, I don’t think I can afford you

(Editor’s note: Ok, let’s be real. Who REALLY thought Isaac would have a story that involved an actual prostitute? Didn’t think so).

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

I’ll be the one to blame

What’s up party people?

So…what goes into the process of writing a post on Part Boast, Part Confession?

Honestly…I wake up in the morning, sip on my can of V, read NBA columns, maybe check out a video on Youtube…then exclaim:

“Oh no, it’s been a couple of days, my four readers will be getting all antsy if I don’t write anything today!”

Then I open a new tab, rant about bitches being bitches in a very biased, slightly sexist fashion for about three hundred words, use as many pop culture references as possible, then google *INSERT RANDOM WORD HERE* demotivational poster, stick it in (Editor’s note: Heh) and then write a flashback. The flashback is easily the most difficult part of my post due to the fact that it requires me to actually use my brain, hence the can of V sitting to my left. I like to go back as far as possible, and if you see an entry that is from the current year…that means I gave up after three minutes of contemplation.

And there you go.

Some more random facts about a process that has less interest than the steps involved to a Hip Hop dance:

(Editor’s note: I am convinced that only the Cali Swag District knows how to dougie, everyone else simply does their own iteration and calls it that. The worse offenders are those frauds from Glee; kinda like how they pretend they can sing too. Yeah, hold dat).

- Off the top of my head, there are half a dozen flashbacks that I will never, ever write about. Reasons include shame, embarrassment, exposure…and I’m not the only one who would be feeling those emotions.

- I have only ever had one guest writer, you can check out her blog HERE (Editor’s note: The post in question).

- I should run spellcheck, proofread my sh*t and correct typos. But I don’t.

- There’s a concept that I’ve been thinking of penning/typing for a while now that will make me more unpopular than LeBron James post-Decision. I still kinda want to write it though.

- I actually do have an editor. He’s this really good looking Chinese guy I see whenever I look in the mirror (Editor’s note: In fairness, I did recently get a rather bad haircut that some people say makes me look like Joseph Gordon Levitt….or Emma Watson if she ever decided to stop grooming her eyebrows).

I've also gotten the Justin Bieber post puberty comparisons too, it's been a rough week

Side bar, more on my hair. The best burn I received last week was this:

R: Emma’s the face of Burberry

Isaac: Not anymore dude

R: I know Emma Watson’s not the face of Burberry anymore….have you replaced her?

I will now walk onto incoming traffic

(OH AND HOLY SH*T, I READ THAT SARAH JESSICA PARKER IS COMING TO THE MELBOURNE CUP? I’m willing to put at least half of my life savings down that she will end up winning the cup. Wait…she’s not competing? Why else would she be in Melbourne? What movie to promote…? Who’s her jockey? How confused are you right now?)

Anywho, on to my three minutes of contemplation:

The Car Ride ’10

Windows down on a breezy day was right up there on his list of random things that brought him joy, ‘his’ being nineteen year old Isaac Lai. Not trailing too far behind on that list was steak with some bros washed down with a cold glass of lemon lime bitters with a bit too much lime cordial, that’s what awaited him on the other side of  the car ride he was currently enjoying in the passenger seat.

The girl in the backseat was currently taking non-subtle jabs at the driver. Everything from his choice of clothing, down to his slightly shaggy hair. Isaac listened half-heartedly, afraid to interject and offend all parties involved (Editor’s note: Since when did Isaac have tact?). Instead, he had his eyes closed and enjoyed the breeze as it made its way into the car, drowning out the noise of the conversation albeit slightly.

However, very few conversations happened around Isaac that didn’t involve him intervening eventually, this was not an exception.

Girl: I’m just saying, you REALLY need a haircut.

S: But I want to grow it out a bit.

Isaac: Yeah back off him…his hair isn’t nearly as long as mine and I’m not cutting it anytime soon.

Isaac turned his head slightly to see the facial expression of his friend in the backseat, she looked on the brink of laughter.

Girl: Oh Isaac, your hair’s just a mess.

Diu.

Until next time folks! Stay classy!

I wish nothing but the best for you

What’s up party people?

Both tears and sweat are salty, but they render a different result. Tears will get you sympathy; sweat will get you change. 

First off, I just typed ‘salty quotes’ into Google not expecting any results and somehow I managed to stumble upon today’s opening quote. God, I love Google.

Anywho I have a high sodium diet. And no, I’m not talking about the food I choose to consume. I’m constantly bitter or ‘salty’ about things that I have put myself through over the years. Yes, yes this will be a post about girls (Editor’s note: Several people just closed their tabs in unison). I don’t get too sad after break ups (Editor’s note: With the exception of one, but that story’s for another day); sure I get upset that things didn’t work out, but I’m always sure that I want to conclude the relationship because things have run their course.

What I do get really, really, really salty about is….rejection.

And believe me, I have had way too many helpings and it just ain’t good for the heart

(Editor’s note: He just spent three seconds nodding at his own reflection and muttering ‘see what I did there?).

So why do I get salty about rejection? Do you remember how a paragraph ago I said that I don’t get upset about breakups due to the fact that things have run their course? Well, that’s the thing…with rejections, there has been no course to run. The rejector basically didn’t even let me run in the race, I couldn’t compete or show that I could potentially win. Sure, I had a chance during the courting period…but I’m a f*cking mess during that period, I’m the opposite of Gwen Stefani during that period….as in, I have a sh*t load of doubt going through my head (Editor’s note: Gwen Stefani is the former lead singer of No Doubt. Once again, he spent three seconds nodding at his own reflection saying ‘see what I did there?).

She never even gave me a shot.

And though I tried…..and believe me, I went f*cking H.A.M….I failed before it even began.

That hurts a lot more than anything; being told you’re not good enough.

And now I have to hold dat.

Chicks be bitches.

A: I didn’t want to make you feel any worse than you already did

Isaac: There’s no way you could’ve done that

Anywho, on to the next one:

The Proposition ’10

It was getting late, which meant that nineteen year old Isaac’s shift was finally drawing to a close. It had been a long one, and he was really starting to feel the weariness that settled over him at work. He ripped tickets on autopilot, his face frozen with a welcoming smile and a robotic voice that uttered the same statement every time:

“Enjoy the movie.”

He was on the doors of Date Night, a new comedy starring Tina Fey and the immortal Steve Carrell. Not many people were coming to see it, even though it was a fairly funny movie in Isaac’s opinion. Isaac wandered around his domain as he awaited the arrival of more cinema patrons whilst glancing at his watch every thirty seconds in an attempt to will time into going faster than at its current pace.

Two elderly ladies approached the doors of the cinema and Isaac reached his hand out to take their tickets.

Elder lady #1: Mmmm Date Night, do you want a date?

Isaac was sure he had heard incorrectly.

Isaac: Er…sorry?

Elder lady #1: The movie’s called Date Night, do you have a date tonight?

Isaac: Er…no m’am

Elderly Lady #2: Want one?

Isaac: Umm…no thank you, I’m working

The two elderly ladies walked into the cinema cackling at themselves.

Isaac was no longer weary, and not in the least bit sleepy.

He doubted he would get any sleep at all that night.

Until next time folks! Stay classy!