To aspirational Instagrammers/Facebookers who make me think I’m doing it wrong

Hey kids,

Cool it on the perfection, the inspiration, the aspirations, the hashtag glory. I’ve been trying to keep up for ages and now I’m a bit over it. I’ve come up with a list of suggestions I’d like to see you whack a filter on – let’s call it a ten-day challenge:

  1. Post argument #selfie with your significant other before making up, when you’re both wondering if you really need this shit
  2. Close-up of snotty tears face just after crying at Grey’s Anatomy/P.S. I Love You/video of any sort of animal being reunited with its animal friend or family
  3. Ad-hoc catalogue of pointless, passive-aggressive work emails sent about people’s dishes in the kitchen area
  4. Daily play count of catchy pop song in style of Bieber’s “Sorry”/Rihanna’s “Bitch Better Have My Money” interpreted into graph, relative to day of the week and blood sugar levels
  5. Cups of tea, in no particular order, in a 3 x 3 grid
  6. Short video of just-missed bus as it pulls away
  7. Pile of never-read books in order of literary street credibility: most impressive at the bottom of the stack
  8. Bitten-nails manicure on stubby fingered man hands, with a French twist
  9. Bar graph representations of how many times a person at a desk job hits their Enter key/smacks their forehead to the desk in a day
  10. Error messages as inspirational quotations

And…. go.

To people who don’t like Vegemite

Look, I’d concede that vegemite’s not for everyone but I’m not in the mood to pander to you babies.

The way I see it, you have two basic options: vegemite on toast or vegemite sandwiches. In my youth, sometimes my mum made them for me every day of the week. And how did I turn out? Fucking awesome, that’s how.

I don’t know the science of vegemite, but I do know that spreadable yeast extract is a modern marvel and all you people who think you don’t like it are wrong. Have you even had it on toast? I had two bits yesterday morning and then smashed that Monday into pieces. I’m basically Chuck Norris, except I’m not a total misogynistic asshole. Why? Because I eat vegemite on the regular, that’s why. Maybe if Chuck had a little more vegemite and a little less bad attitude things would be different and I’d still find his jokes funny. But no. Ruined that, didntya Chuck.

Got a hangover? Vegemite toast. Want to send your kids off to school with a sandwich spread with something nutritious that won’t break the bank? Mother-fuckin-vegemite. Want to get a whole pile of vitamin B and other stuff? You got it. Vegemite for Prime Minister.

Everyone knows it’s the good stuff. People that don’t like it don’t know what they like about anything in any context. People that don’t like vegemite probably also don’t know how they have their scotch, or which way is up and which way is down, or how to put pants on in the morning. I’d feel sorry for you, but that’s not why we’re here, is it?

Sort it out.

To people who do not know the joy of dance

Hey folks! Listen to me!

You should definitely dance. I’m assuming you don’t know about the joy of dance because you’ve never danced ever. That’s weird, first of all. How did you avoid this awkward teenage rite-of-passage that was the occasional gym class bush dance? Maybe you were from the city and bush dances weren’t your thing? Well, just a three word question for ya: Nut Bush City? Brings together the Bush and the City quite well, I’d have thought – a bit of Nut thrown in for good measure.

If this sort of dancing is the very only sort you’ve ever danced, well, have I got a treat for you. Literally any pop song playing on the radio, or on your electronic devices, has been put together specifically to make you want to dance and not think about the deep well of sadness and existential despair inside of you. Like any pop song at all. Get on that! If you feel silly, good! You are silly!

Whether inside of a car or inside of a living room, or in da club, you can really get some fun had by simply turning the volume up and wobbling your wobbly bits. If you don’t have any wobbly bits that’s fine, use your imagination and wobble it instead. Go to town. This is your time.

To people who do not know the joy of dance, part 2: dancing in a car

I haven’t finished talking about dancing yet.

Recently I have been really into car dancing. It’s like regular dancing but you are also in a car, probably driving the car (if you’re not driving it, why are you in there? Get out, go home, spend some time with your family). It’s mainly upper body work as the lower body is pretty much committed to acceleration, gear change and braking. Keep doing those things with your legs, and by all means use at least one of your hands to steer and at least one of them to move the gear stick. I note this is rapidly becoming a driving lesson. I digress.

Here are some possible ways to get the most out of your new-found love of dancing. It’s a game:

You get bonus points for knowing the words and singing them with your eyes closed to indicate a passionate connection to the message of the song. Harder to do when driving, but not impossible.

You get bonus points for dancing to things from the 90s and still knowing the words and singing them.

You get bonus points for making someone join you while you dance.

You get bonus points if the someone who has joined you is a cat, dog or rabbit that you have also decided to serenade with your singing which you are also doing while you dance.

You get bonus points if you are dancing with the cat, dog or rabbit like they are a human.

You get triple bonus points if you throw in a booty pop.