I didn’t want to wait, for my life to get older. 




When I bought it today it was a lampshade but when I opened the box it was the secret blueprints to Dr . Manhattan’s moon palace.

Patootie Schnitzel

Posted: May 6, 2014 by simonbosco in Uncategorized
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If I ever have kids, not that it’s likely as I opt for nightly chemical castration administered by Doctor Bong, but if I did I sincerely hope that it is ugly as all the world’s fuck because trying to discipline the cute (as pictured above) is not exactly going according to anyone’s idea of efficient parenting.  Cobra attacks and arm bleeds should not be met with guffawing at how much of a patootie she is. My kitty is not picking up on my covert passive aggression and as much as that requires remediation for now her shitty behavior will be met with a road block made of fairy farts and neglectful patriarchy.


“….and we cross live to Wentworthville where an anonymous person has chosen to air their grievances using Typo coffee mugs. Will the message be received by it’s intended audience? Will the culprit be put to justice? Will the typo staff change the arrangement of the mugs BEFORE ITS TOO LATE? The answer to this and other questions no one remembers asking tonight on A Current Affair”

More or lessons.

Posted: April 29, 2014 by simonbosco in Uncategorized
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I washed my dad’s car every weekend. This taught me the value of paying someone else to do it, “just the outside thanks I’m not a fucken oil sheik. Am I even wearing robes right now?”, every time my car gets so dirty that the windshield smudgers just can’t shimmy past the toxic wasteland on my driver’s vision panel.

My mum made me help with the dishes every night directly after dinner. This taught me the value of tossing sauce stained napkins on top of a three-bag bin pile because wishing for a dishwasher doesn’t make the shit covered shaq high stack of porcelain and glass clattering up your cooking room to the point where you’ll just dip a flacid meat tube into a sauce glob on a tissue because you can’t make mi goreng on the floor of your laundry.



Heavy Petting


… and then everything went white


Pictured below is the carpet of a hotel in Sydney.  A hotel in the sense that it serves up half spilt goblets of imbibing aqueous and not in the sense that it houses people on vacation or people looking to do the horizontal frog dance with someone other than their significant other. 

The carpet caught my attention in the way that only a thousand pairs of labia minoras and majoras hiding in a magic-eye book styled flooring can catch someone’s attention. However maybe I’m obsexsed, maybe I’m there’s no salmon canyons to be found here. Maybe I instantly regret using the term Salmon canyon. Either ways, this blog ain’t changing your nanny’s nappies. Have a good day bone diggers. 



I saw this at Coles.

I took a photo of it.

This is what transpired. 





Baby’s first meme

Posted: April 19, 2014 by simonbosco in Uncategorized
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I made a meme. It’s my first meme. I am the baby mentioned in the title. 

(That’s all the exposition this  post deserves)

So I just smoked some of God’s disco sweat and I’m feeling bloggy. ………………..Wow! After I wrote that first sentence of self-righteous piddle farts, I stared blankly into a television that was playing an episode of ‘Friends’ for the better part of as long as it takes a grown man with a child sized scrotum and low self esteem to heave his engorging ass off  his comfort couch, that many animals had to gives their lives for but he only thinks about it on a bi fortnightly basis and feels bad so he eats a bucket of ham and drinks a yard glass full of bacon juice, and go and change the channel. (Can you believe that was one sentence. ONE!  One Hundred words and not a valid statement or a thought-provoking notion amongst the fray. My inbred and basement-bound Uncle Roberto once carved a nail etching on the back of his Playdough mound that contained more contextually related material).

A Parsnip is nowhere near as disappointing a vegetable as people may believe.

Round door knobs after KFC is a depressed gentlemen’s labyrinth, unfortunately Ziggy Stardust doesnt croon your way to the end (represented by your demise in the shape of a weeping sparrow)

Babies are about as interesting as Mimes.

Every French person living in the Czech Republic must purchase a series of tubes in order to communicate with one another as they are not allowed near telecommunication devices or the ‘general public’ whilst they are under the age of a of ‘Milly: the never-dying turtle’.

Hey remember VHS? If so, you are old enough to not matter anymore.

Anyone who complains about how “Kurt Cobain would be rolling in his grave if heard this abomination…” (in reference to a ‘Smells like teen spirit’ interpretation or remix), seriously need two things. 1) A giant glass of ‘Shut your fucking taco hole’ juice. and  2)A lesson in ‘Dead bodies don’t move as they cannot react to living world circumstances’

I once told someone that I was going to Punch them in their Family-hole.

The banks waste paper sending me account details in the mail. You don’t need to show a monkey no beads to represent the quantity of nothing to said monkey.

Who the shit gets the right to be a ‘Social Commentator’ on fuckey little pseudo-news/expose shows? Were supposed to take our ques from a warmed up fossil named Prue Sweeney.

Carbonaro? yeah more like Scarbonara. Am I Right? You know…..the mafia and such.

Lemon should be involved in everything, all the time. If there is a pool party happening in the jaws of a Rape Giant, I want the lemon to have V.I.P status and free drinks cards.

Childhood Slurpees are the reason why I am now into BDSM. It was the genesis of a pleasure/pain concept. It was also the age where I learnt to lie about having self harm fetishes to the nobody reading this spasmodic farce.

Taxidermy is the hobby of the neighbour you’ve never spoken to, who stares at your neck for a little too long when you’re sorting out your recycling.

I fist myself with playing cards, to keep an ace in the hole on all occasions.

Why are people’s meals the most photographed item in our current culture. If they put pictures of food back on menu’s would this make people spill less semen over taking a snap shot of a piece of food that will be turned into a lumpy piles of human fecal matter.

People should have BEFORE and AFTER shots of their meals from now on.

Mind Ice cream shouldn’t be scooped from a shit bucket when its attached to fingers and an internet connection.