Nouveau Cat

For many millennia human beings have enjoyed the company of the Felus Catus, more commonly known as the Swamp Moggy. Whilst in past civilisations, such as ancient Egypt, people may have gathered around to ROFL whilst pointing at a particularly funny hieroglyph of a cat poking it's head out of a hole in the ceiling with the witty subtitle "Amun-Ra cat is watching you castrate eunuchs"   or some such thing, modern man missed out on sharing the hilarity of trying to keep a borderline psychopathic/homicidal fur-covered narcissist under some sort of domestic control with other people without eventually having to say "well, look, it was funny at the time, you had to be there".


(ASIDE: I didn't realise this until just now, but someone has actually dedicated a site to Ceiling Cat... wow. http://www.ceilingcat.com/. Cats even have power over our internet memes! Probably more so than any other pet, that's for sure.) 


True, the story about how your cat had a conversation with you while you were doing the dishes, or the look on its face when it brought home a particularly gruesome eviscerated marsupial for your attention does lack a certain lustre when conveyed in simple words. 
Then came  ****THE INTERWEBS****. It should have a theme song of it's own. In fact, this might suffice: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9vrfEoc8_g


Suddenly the face of shared media is changed, and you can now direct your friends' attention to a hilarious video you found or uploaded, and ROFL together in mutual appreciation at the questionable behaviour of a beloved companion animal. YouTube has brought us such gems as:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qff9V27Weaw


and:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JynBEX_kg8&feature=related


Personally, I spend nearly 99% of the time on YouTube looking at videos of cats. There is just something about the way that they seem to simultaneously be dead serious whilst acting like an overripe banana in a microwave that makes them compelling viewing. Even in real life, I often catch myself provoking my cat in to committing acts of violence against me, simply because, despite a notable depletion in my band-aid supply, seeing them crack it at you with the ferocity of a pissed-off mountain lion jammed into a wiry insanity of a small 4kg housecat is ever so morbidly amusing. 
I'm fairly certain that in between eating and cleaning herself and complaining and hissing at the dog, my cat sleeps and dreams of only a few simple things: 

This has led me to ponder just how a typical pet cat's brain and motivation centres are set up. I think the below diagram adequately illustrates the working sectors of a cat's brain; the size of the section is directly related to the time they spend either acting on or thinking about each subject therein: 

The thing is, despite, or maybe even because of, the unfathomable psyche of the cat, they really do make good companions. Some would say that they lack the intelligence of dogs and I would certainly concur that they lack the loyalty of the canine; but for millions of people just in this country that is exactly their attraction. A dog needs to be entertained, driven, led. A cat prefers you to feed them, provide a warm part of your body to leech heat from, and occasionally have you groom them when they can't be bothered doing it themselves. For my money however, I prefer the cat simply because if I was going to choose someone to be lonely with it would be something that, due to its immense ego, almost fails to understand loneliness and through that hubris actually makes a reassuring friend. My cat's general response to being left alone all day is to sleep on a lawn chair in the sun and stalk introduced species of bird that alight on the deck. Even in the face of the completely random and medically insane behaviours that we witness in cats, when it comes to the important things, they are masters of their craft. 


'Oh Don Piano' indeed... 

Job Interviews

I hate interviews.
Let’s get it straight from the start- I know how to prepare for one, and, generally, what to say. But it always bugs me that when they ask me to describe my skills I can’t be completely honest.

I understand that meeting targets and working well within a team, and good customer service are important to a potential employer, and these are all things I can do. But when I get asked about my skills, essentially I have to lie.

Because my real skills would totally make the interviewers simultaneously poop, wizz and cry with joy.

This is a normal interview situation:

There I am, at the end of the table in a cavernous, emotion-destroying room filled with people just waiting to judge me; trying to witness my Awesomeness© free of charge.

Just once I want to walk into an interview room and hear these words:


“I’m afraid that due to new recruitment policies, we’ve had to change our interview format. Instead of questions based on your response to selection criteria, your interview will now be based around your knowledge of the‘90s Grunge scene and its influence on the Nu-Metal era; Ninjas and Ninja-related topics, such as Seppukku, katanas, invisibility, nocturnal habitats and beheading; your technique for defeating Dr. Robotnik at the end of Sonic the Hedgehog 2; and at the end of the questioning you will be given 3 mins to make a statement of claims on this position using only a freestyle guitar solo.”


Seriously - this is the REAL reason you should employ people- Cos they have SKILLZ (the z is important; it implies skills that really matter, such as pulling sweet Superman-air off a jump over a sea of fire and not merely your knowledge of Excel macros. Or mail merge.).

I would literally be Prime Minister of the Solar System by now if I was only ONCE hired on the basis that I know TONS about ninja weapons, I can ollie like 3 steps in one go and that I could totally beat you at Street Fighter 2 (as long as I use Ken).

Oh yeah, and by the way, I reckon Ken was over at my place this morning, Shoryuken-ing the SHIT out of my car, cos it overheated just as I got in to drive to a job interview (the reason for this post, like, DUH). So here i was running to catch the train in my sweet pimped out job-getting-suit, sweating like a captive drop-bear in a 44-gallon drum, and when I get to the station, the bloody Metro staff are DISMANTLING the freakin' ticket machine, so I was forced to use out-of-date food stamps from WW2, which, let me tell you, brought back memories of the trenches.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so I get on the train finally and becuase I've been running I'm like, sheened with sweat and so I prepared for my interview by thinking stabby-knife thoughts at my car, thinking how I was going to have to get my suit dry cleaned AGAIN and completely emptied my mind of anything of any relevance to the task ahead.

Needless to say, that because I live in some sort of luck-vaccuum, actually worked in my favour. Now, if I'd actually had time to read my notes I would have probably just walked straight into the pub and woken up on a flatbed train carriage steaming out accross the Nullabor. As it is, I think I did OK. I credit the Awesomeness©.

Anyway, come back for more later ya Zealots. I've got a whole SAC SACK of goodies for yaz.

Peace OUT!

First Post Anxiety

I feel like I should be writing something insightful, daring and witty here that will grab your attention like the icy seep of cold seawater into your swimmers at the beach. It’s harsh and jarring, yet compelling- I mean, in for a penny, in for a pound eh? Your gonads have already retreated to somewhere behind your eyes so why not immerse yourself and see just how much you can take?

With that succinct and entirely confusing segue out of the way, I’d like to welcome you to GIANT ANTS ATE MY HOMEWORK, my first blog and my claim on the information age. Having avoided Twittering to the best of my ability (and as such missing out on serious media coverage Dammit!), I’ve decided to use my mutant powers to entertain and incite thoughtful exchange, soaring imaginations and potential hate mail and self-humiliation through a blog instead.
Anyway, I didn't have much time, or, let's face it, motivation, today- but I did a self portrait to help ease you into my world. KY would have been quicker, but messier. This is me:

I know what you’re thinking right?

 And you’d be correct.
As far as introductions go, it’s not as good as when ninjas fell out of the sky to Earth and were promptly introduced to the awesomeness of Seppuku for the first time, but it comes close!
I hope you tune in again, I'll be updating regularly. To be honest its a relief to have somewhere to expunge all the little atoms of borderline-insane babble that come out of my mouth. Somehow telling the cat doesn't really feel fulfilling.

 Peace out!