Please, Let Me Kill You – Or At Least Get Angry At You a Bit

A newly formed habit gradually creeps up on you. You wake up, pick your nose, roll it between your thumb and forefinger and drop it over the side of your bed. It’s only when you vacuum and it sounds like you’re sucking up scattered sand that you realise you’ve been rolling snot and dropping it next to your bed for pretty much as long as you can remember.

‘You can relax, little one. The chiwawa is gone.’

Of course, probably, when you become aware of your new lazy-arsed, snot rolling and dropping habit, you’ll stop – although there will always be something satisfying about mining out a booger the size of a small cockroach. But what if you’ve formed a new habit that you just can’t shake, like wishing a stranger would outrage you enough so you can kill them?

Men, Get the F##k Off the Couch and Do Some Housework

The majority of guys are lazy, sooky, mummy’s boys. Don’t believe me? Have a conversation with any woman in a relationship with a dude and you can bet pretty much most of them will say their man does absolutely nothing around the house. And they mean nothing. As in doesn’t lift a God-damn finger, nothing.

How does this happen? How do two people get to the point where it seems totally normal for one to do every piece of housework while the other doesn’t do any? To me, it sounds like utter insanity.

Pink Jobs, Blue Jobs

‘My old enemy, we meet again.’

It’s safe to say society has changed since the middle ages. We have running water, garbage trucks, and the ability to check Facebook from the comfort of our own beds. The days of brushing our teeth with charcoal and having to marry the first person we accidentally knock-up, or get knocked-up by, are way behind us.

Peter Pan Syndrome: Will Staying Young Really Win Wendy’s Heart?

Oh Peter, you look sorta - old.

Peter stands on the shore of Never Land, golden sword trailing through shallow water. His small, pointy leather boots slowly fill with sand and discarded cigarette butts from nearby Pirate Town. A little way off shore Wendy kneels at the stern of a small launch being paddled by men with hunched shoulders and ragged hair. The men heave their oars through the water and draw closer to an impressive ship, resplendent with polished rails and colourful flags as if heralding the arrival of the young lady. Also decked out in finery is the man waiting to greet Wendy, who watches her approach through a lengthy spyglass. His richly darkened wig falls over a coat decorated with golden amulets and pearls taken from the most experienced of seafarers and the proudest of island warriors.

On the beach, Peter wipes mucus from his nose and trails it down the front of his green tunic with the back of his hand. “I thought we were in love!” he shouts at Wendy’s retreating figure.

Wendy turns and shrugs. “That may be so, but what do you expect Peter? Hook has a boat, and power, and treasure. He’s taking me to Bora Bora!”

So Should We Slap, Shake, Kiss, Hug, Or Ignore?

This is the section were we get to have a bitch about what’s pissing us off right now. It’ll always be posted on Monday, just to coincide with the best day of the week – if you’re still drunk from a roaring Sunday session. If not, it’s because Mondays have a tendency to totally blow.

Feel free to comment about what’s pissing you off right now.

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"I think my hand is near your penis."

This is something that happens in my life almost every day. Countless times every day.

It’s the simple handshake. But, it’s not simple is it.

Whose hand do you shake? Whose hand don’t you shake? When do you kiss a girl on the cheek? Is shaking a girl’s hand considered rude? Is hugging another man in public weird?

It happens to everyone. You know, that moment when you second guess yourself just before you go to shake hands or kiss someone’s cheek, and there’s that second of not knowing what to do. You know it. The other person knows it. It’s fucking awkward.

When All the Planets of the Solar System Align, Then we’ll Have Sex.

"You're right, this IS more interactive than a Wii console!"

We love sex. I love sex, you love sex, my 65 year old neighbours love sex. Actually, they really, really love sex – loud sex. Before you even finish your eye-opener coffee in the morning, you’ve probably been spanked with the notion of sex in a dozen different ways from a dozen different angles. Be it through the telly, newspaper, online news, patting the sauce bottle, squeezing your toothpaste, it’s bloody-well everywhere.

Maybe that’s why everyone freaks out when they think they ain’t gettin’ enough.

I Do – But I Don’t Do Your Name.

This is a debate I know can get ugly. After writing, I’m going to be looking over my shoulder expecting to be dragged into dark alleys by high-powered female business women and academics. I’ll be tied up with their slimming Shapewear, beaten with iPads and left as a warning to other men who foolishly dare broach the subject.

This subject can get ugly.

After watching a movie the other day called Hot Tub Time Machine – seriously hilarious, there’s a drunken dude dressed as a bear, freakin gold. I began thinking about the traditionally slippery slope of working out what happens to your surname after marriage.

Tight Denim, Tyler Durden and the Dirty Thirties.

Finding your masculinity can be damn hard for young men of today. Thanks to Father Time, you don’t find it, it finds you.

“So what do you think?”

My Girlfriend turned and looked as I stood wearing a jacket I’d picked off the rack.

“Yeah, I like it,” she said. “Sort of Tyler Durden looking.”

“Really?” We were doing some Sunday arvo shopping and had stopped at a little boutique in Paddington.

“Yes,” came the rasping verdict from the 55 year old shop assistant. “Very masculine.”

My mind started throwing around pictures of Tyler Durden, Han Solo and Aragorn. These dudes are men. I’m not a man. Since when did strangers complement me on my masculinity? I puffed my chest out and squinted a little. I guess the jacket did make me look a bit Tyler – if the light was dimmed, and if I had a chiseled haircut, and a tan, and a completely different body.