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» The Dirty Secrets of Your Trade

anti-cellulite creams are rubbish
I worked in the cosmetics industry in Australia, for a large, snooty and rather expensive department store that rhymes with "David Bones". I was the only straight guy at the head office, it was insanely fun going to cosmetics launches and being surrounded by beautiful women, but it's all smoke and mirrors. A couple of years ago one of the multinational cosmetics brands we sell was caught using a 12 year old boy in their Australian TV commercials for anti-cellulite cream. Any close-up shots of ladies' bottoms where you can't see their front or face? That's a 12yo boy's firm wrinkle-free botty. Even wafer thin models weren't good enough. Take heart ladies.
(Sat 29th Sep 2007, 7:57, More)

» Buses

My girlfriend's uncle in Sydney...
...is a total tosser. Plus he's a bus driver. Coincidence?

He once told us how proud he was to have confiscated an old age pensioner's concession card. In his words: "She must have been about 93." The reason for the confiscation? The old chooky's pass had expired a month earlier. He forced her to pay full fare. I'm sorry, but there's no way to impersonate a 93 year old woman if you aren't actually old enough to actually be an OAP yourself.

This incident was about 6 months after he had offered to give my girlfriend her dead grandfather's concession pass. His logic was that they shared a surname, so a mid-20s woman could passably use the ID of a dead 80-odd year old man. Flawless.

Oh, the irony.

What a twunt.
(Fri 26th Jun 2009, 5:21, More)

» Waste of money

I bought a vintage Jag - how can that cost me money???
In September 2007 I won some money on an Australian tv gameshow, Temptation - think trivial pursuit for money. I had also done a shitload of annoying freelance work in the months prior, and my bank balance was sitting pretty. Feeling like a smug git, I bought a 1968 Jaguar Mark 2 sedan. I'd always wanted one, and it was beautiful.

Fast forward to 2010, and I'm desperate to sell the classic. Every month it breaks down and leaves me stranded (the highlight was new years eve 2009 when it broke down halfway up Melbourne's largest bridge on a 40 degrees Celsuis day...). It cost me $60 a week in petrol. Even with regular and horrendously expensive maintenance, a whole bunch of stuff is about to fail and cost me a bomb to repair.

After 6 months on the market, I managed to sell to a guy from Sydney for about 40% of what I paid for it. Including money spent at the Jaguar specialist garage over the time I owned it, I lost $29,000 on that car in two-and-a-half years. Perversely, I considered myself lucky as I walked away - the poor fucker who bought it was going to drive it from Melbourne to Sydney (1000km) that afternoon. I never heard from him again... I assume he made it.

P.S. The day I sold it I wrote myself a "don't buy any more classic cars" manifesto. And yet 2 months later I'm sorely tempted to purchase an MGA coupe. Glutton for punishment or what?
(Sat 2nd Oct 2010, 9:17, More)