Labrat's Travel Tips

My second trip to the forward thinking, cosmoplitan state of Montana for the Maggotfest rugby tournament was a learning experience and I thought it might be helpful to pass on a few tips.

#1: Huge pink piggy slippers go very well with a Hugh Heffner theme and get you many a compliment. Not as effective for meeting women as going dressed as a blind person, like last year.

#2A: Pants down at a kangaroo court with your team atrracts little attention.


#2B: Walking down the main street of the hick town of Missoula at 3am with your pants around your ankles brings attention to you in a negative. For example it could cause a stereotypical hick yank cop to jump a median strip, mount the curb and leap out of his vehicle before it has even stopped and say things like "Boy, do you know I could arrest you right now." "What the hell are you doing with your pants down?" Responding with a statement such as "Sir, I have no excuse for being pants down" somehow keeps you from being dragged to the drunk tank.



#3: Responding to being locked out of your hotel room by writing "U R all CUNTS" in soap on the mirror results in a group bashing the next morning.

#4: Going into a servo with a rookie to get food, hitting him in the back of the head with a sandwich and telling him to pay for it actually works.

#5: Entering the lobby and shocking innocent bystanders by being the drunkest man in Montanna gets you the respect of your fellow tourists.


#6: Being convicted in kangaroo court is not always a bad thing.

#7: Accepting a ride by an obviously drunk local is in retrospect a bad idea. Fuck retrospect, when I saw one of my mates rolling on the road after being a bit too slow to get out of the very crowded pick up truck, it hit me that it was a bad idea.

G'Dayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!

If there's one good thing about the World Cup at the moment, its the supporters in the stands. As this picture depicts, the Swedish fans are probably the standouts.

Fuck Viduka, Fuck Kewell, I'm going for Svvvvvvvveeeeeeeeden and their MASSIVELY hot slut supporters!!!!!!!

C'mon Sweden C'mon Sweden C'mon Sweden......or should that be "Cum on Swedish sluts Cum on Swedish sluts Cum on Swedish sluts"????

King Harry vs Evil

After the diabolical refereeing performance in Brazil 2 Australia I got sent the transcript of what was actually said by King Hazza.
Transcript...
"Markus Merk you fucken Jerk are you out of your fucking mind ??!! Just cause they are the world champs and the best in the world they don't need your fucking assistance as well. 25 penalties to 9 ? Jesus Christ on a bicycle ! Every time they fell fell over you blew that fucken whistle!
I know I missed an open goal but that's beside the point.
I bet you you wear those stupid german leather pants with the ass cheeks cut out don't you? Come on admit it. I bet you've got them on right now underneath you neo-nazi prick.
And just remember who won the war cunt. Thats right not you mother fuckers. So get the fuck over it. What is this? Some form of cheap revenge. For Fucks Sake.
May you contract syphyllus from those hot brazilian chicks you've been promised..."

It all makes sense when you say it out loud - 6

Regular readers and subscribers to the truth,

Those expressing concern regarding my mysterious disappearance several weeks ago can be reassured that I have escaped my captors and returned to the spider hole with only my sensibilities in tatters.

My story started after I had uncovered the Australian Government for their shameless bullshitting to the sheep people to gain popularity prior to elections, budget releases and fuel price increases.

I noticed shortly after I published the story, that the neighbours were ordering a lot more take away than usual and all of it from ASIS Pizza’s. The clicking in my phone had intensified and there seemed to be a shit load more smoke detectors in the spider hole than I remember installing.

On a foggy Tuesday morning I grabbed my bag, pinched Natasha on the ass and left my cosy abode headed for my place of employment. I remember thinking “funny time to have ordered a pizza” when I was struck on the back of the head and bundled into the van.

I drifted in and out of consciousness for an undeterminable period of time. When I finally regained my senses I found myself on my back on a sandy beach. It appeared to be some tropical resort. There was a game of beach volley ball being played a short distance away, children swimming in the clear warm ocean and a myriad of locals enjoying the sunshine.

Stumbling to my feet, I asked several people where I was, but none could speak English. I noticed several dialects, Indonesian, New Guinean & Arabic. Walking through the coconut trees I discovered a small town square. There were several run down shop fronts surrounding a grassed park which had a large familiar shaped blob like statue located in the middle. “This must be some kind of local God” I thought as there were 20 – 30 natives praying to it.

Quietly, as so not to disturb these proud creatures from their worshipping, I moved towards the crowd to get a closer look. “Fuck Me!!!” I exclaimed, I knew that blob looked familiar. It was a 12 foot tall bronzed statue of Amanda Vanstone! I was on Nauru!!!! Bloody Bloody Bastards! They have stuck me in a fucking refugee camp! Looking at my fist which had become clenched in rage I noticed a Tattoo “Terror Threat – Never to be Released”

I turned and ran. I bolted past the “free use of non motorised watercraft and snorkelling equipment” sign, through a game of coconut beach footy, tripped over one of the hundreds of sand chairs, in and out of numerous suppressed downtrodden refugees, lying on the beach in the sun, drinking strange drinks out of half pineapples. I remember thinking “look at these poor souls that society has turned its back on”… They have only the most basic of clothing (Mambo board shorts and Roxy Bikini’s) stuck on a south pacific island with no access to jet skis or scuba equipment. Will human kind never learn?

I stumbled into a small insignificant shed. As the door slammed behind me I noticed a timber panel move in the wall. On further inspection I discovered a secret hutch that contained an odd looking well worn cloth. It appeared to be made of Silk and had strange inscriptions upon it. A tag in the bottom corner of the cloth said “Property of the Australian Government”. THE CLOAK OF CORE PROMISIES!!! I couldn’t believe it… The stories were true, a cloak that takes items that appear to be solid and makes them disappear!

I threw the cloak over my head and checked the dusty mirror - no reflection. IT WORKS! I quietly walked out to the only jetty on the island and waited. 2 days later a ferry arrived, brining bare essentials to the island for the refugees (vodka, Limes, Cocktail umbrellas, sun screen etc). I boarded the ferry and hid in a life boat. 3 days later I was hitching back to the spider hole from Cairns.

What is this clown saying?

Caption competition time! Tells us what this clown is saying and win! Enter as many times as you want, because there's no fucking prize! If your not a blogger member just click on "comments/spray this post" at the bottom of this post, write your quote and select "other" to add your name (web address optional) then publish! Don't hold back he deserves it!

F.W.A.N.F.F - Part 4: Pauly Shore

I was perusing some movie review sites and stumbled across the one and only Pauly Shore. A definite candidate for 'Fuckers Who Are Not Fucken Funny' if ever there was one. This ass-monkey is about as funny as a positive aids test.

This fuck is responsible for such comedic masterpieces as 'Encino Man', 'Biodome'and 'Jury Duty' just to name a few, and who amongst us could forget the 'riotous' Son-in-Law??!!??

So fuck you very much Pauly. If I ever found you asleep I think I'd have to lay a turd in your open mouth. Some kind of poetic justice methinks.

But don't take my word for it....

"The problem is that scripters provide no jokes, just physical antics, as if the lead characters are so stupid they can't say anything funny even by accident, the way Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels did."
Kim Williamson Box-Office Magazine

"With ``Bio-Dome,'' America faces the very real prospect that Pauly Shore is the most annoying comic alive. In his new movie, which opened yesterday, he is joined by the second-most annoying: Stephen Baldwin, as his way-dumbed-down sidekick."
Peter StackSan Francisco Chronicle

"This could have been a mildly amusing comedy, but the main characters are so annoying that even the most ardent Pauly Shore fan must tap into heretofore unknown reserves of willpower to avoid running away screaming into the lobby. Those who do stay will find what passes for comedy here is so mind-dullingly horrible that they will be slack-jawed and drooling in under five minutes."
Matt Williamshttp://www.cinematter.com/

World Wildlife (Ammo) Fund

Please give generously to the World Wildlife (Ammo) Fund. The tireless people who collect money for this fund are true heroes. I was once one of those people who thought "Why should I give up my hard earned cash so hunters have enough ammunition to randomly cull wildlife?" But that was before I was set upon by a troop of Howler Monkeys, with nowhere to run and without any ammo for my 9mm Heckler & Koch MP5, I was surrounded and howled at till I fell over drunk! It was this incident that made me realise what a wonderful contribution to society those angels of the WW(A)F make. So please, give all you can to the volunteers tirelessly collecting, so that one day if the howler monkeys decend on you, you are secure in the knowledge that a 13 round clip of hollow-points is just a hammer cock away.

PDC Vol 5

The new PDC disc is now in circulation. Same deal as before, copy it and pass it on. If you've stil got any discs in your grubby, sticky hands, wash and return them. Anyone who hasn't seen them or is missing any let me know.

Weapon of Choice

What the hell is going on in this world???

After losing the super 14 final to the Crusaders (on a night so foggy that i couldn't help but think "Gorrillas in the mist" would have been a more appropriate title), the Hurricanes decided to drown their sorrows at the Jolly Poacher in Christchurch.

Some time during the course of the night 106kg loose forward Chris Masoe tripped over the foot of another patron. Being the caring, sensitive, new age type of metrosexual that comes naturally to all Samoans he promptly got up and belted the bloke.

Seeing this, current Hurricanes and former All-Blacks captian Tana Umaga decided to intervene, worried as he was about the image of rugby players when on the piss, and not wanting anything embarassing appearing in the next days papers.

Taking Masoe aside Umaga demonstrated his displeasure to the recalcitrant youngster in the time honoured tradition, by grabbing the nearest handbag and beating him repeatedly with it.

Being a hard man of rugby with a fight to the death attitude, Masoe did what anyone faced with hand bag weilding former All-Black captain would do - Burst into tears and cry like a fucking girl.

Can somone please tell me what planet i've just landed on??? Normally when you hear any sentence with footballers, handbags and crying in it, the words Bulldogs and police investigation also appear.
There are some serious questions that need to be answered :
When did crying become part of rugby? And why isn't it punishable with a life ban? what is it with backs and handbags? And why doesn't it surprise me? Is this the lowest moment in rugby? Is this the future of the game? What the hell is this lump on my testicles?


The handbag and the (now broken) phone contained in it was recently auctioned off for a staggering $22,750 and will probably be displayed in the All-Blacks museum right next to Richard Loe's eyeball collection. The Jolly Poacher is now known to everyone as "The Roxy"

It all makes sense......5

Dear Searchers of the truth,

Is it just me, or are any of the sheep people in this dehydrated rock, that is “girt by sea” questioning the sending of Australian troops to Muslim influenced trouble spots?

I only ask because several years ago, whilst on a secret fact finding mission to Indonesia, (what the fuck ever happened to my Marijuana Boogie Board?) I received a piece of material with strange markings on it. My first thought was “oh fuck no, don’t tell me paisley’s back. I just threw all of my old shirts out”. I soon realised that the material was in fact a document that had been penned in Arabic by no other than Abu Bakar Bashir the leader of Jemaah Islamiah.

I took it back to my hotel room and began the painstaking exercise of deciphering the parchment. It spoke of world peace, respect and education for women and demanded the immediate cease of fucking barnyard animals (specifically pigs and goats) in the name of hallA.

hallA? Fuck! I was reading it backwards. I had to start again. 18 hours later, the information I had deciphered shocked and surprised me to my very core. Worse than the Zombies from Canberra or the fact that Jeanine Howard is not Johns cousin (or sister).

The Indo Muslim extremists have finally realised that Australia has a limited number of trained personnel and only 30% of our hardware (tanks, subs, planes etc) can operate without crashing, falling out of the sky or running aground. This coupled with the fact that you could swim to Darwin from Jakarta makes us a key target for invasion.

Well here we go. A shit load of resources sent to Iraq on a peace keeping mission. By the way, the Japanese are in cahoots with Bin Laden and as such demanded Aussie troops to look after them in Iraq to support the invasion. They are still bitter about losing the war in the Pacific and have been promised Kim Beazley, Amanda Vanstone and Phil Gould (for research purposes of course) for co-operating. Dili has blown up again. This time it is a Muslim militia disguised as disgruntled Government forces doing the damage. Yeah let’s send a whole lotta armed love over there, and some Feds as well. Jakata has been razed to the floor, not by an earthquake, but by 5000 simultaneous suicide bombers, sacrificing themselves in the name of Allah to suck more finances and resources out of us.“Its all about looking after our backyard” Well guess what Howard, you penis fly trap in a wallaby tracksuit?? The back yard is poised to move indoors!!!

On further reflection I now pose the question: is this a bad thing?

We could barter for our petrol (alright then, $.80c per litre, plus you throw in your sister and 2 goats…). Our traffic problems would be solved with the existing 3 lanes of freeway becoming 7 lanes and the new road laws allowing 3 children, 2 adults and 5 chickens on a motor scooter. Everyone would have a job (selling drugs, selling people who buy drugs to the cops, creating and selling kindergarten level sculpture and art pieces, rice growing, harassing tourists to attend property seminars etc). The women would be well behaved and would start treating the men with the respect we bloody well deserve (YEAH YOU HEARD RIGHT NATASHA YOU WORN OUT SLAPPER!!!! SHUT YOUR HOLE AND GET ME A BEER - NOW. I WILL SHAG YOU WHEN I AM GOOD AND READY FFS!!!)

On second thoughts........

Selamat tinggal. Bandara dimana? Karcis ke New Zealand berapa?