This ad first blessed my eyes about a year back. It appeared on screen only once, at around six o'clock in the morning and I fell in love. And yet, nobody knew what I was talking about when I tried to explain it to them and nowhere on YouTube could it be found.
Luckily, with the return of Masterchef, this advertisement has appeared yet again. Not only has it's popularity grown, it now appears on the holy tube that is yours. Enjoy:
What also makes me joyous is that there is ANOTHER ad of the same perfect man:
I leave you with this:
"Sometimes, when I cook, I weep"
Mairead
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
HOEDAFOWN!
The above title is a representation of the phrase "Hold the phone!" said in an outraged accent.
I believed it appropriate to title this post "HOEDAFOWN" because for one thing, I find it very amusing and for two thing this may be your possible reaction if you looked at my blog and realised that a) the title of the blog is different and b) it looks different also.
The cause behind all this hoedafown-ing is because I've decided that from now on my blog will have a theme.
And that theme, as specified in the title, are my strange encounters that I experience in my day-to-day goings on. Thankfully, this fits in quite well with my previous posts. So hoorah, hoorah for consistency.
Mairead's Rather Odd Encounters looks different to Mairead's Highly Interesting Mind because it's a different blog (Actually that's a lie. My blog was insecure about their appearance and was getting really moody and depressed, and being the loving person that I am gave it a bit of a makeover. Don't tell anyone, though... Insecure, remember?)
Enjoy the revamped musings of silly ol' me,
Mairead
I believed it appropriate to title this post "HOEDAFOWN" because for one thing, I find it very amusing and for two thing this may be your possible reaction if you looked at my blog and realised that a) the title of the blog is different and b) it looks different also.
The cause behind all this hoedafown-ing is because I've decided that from now on my blog will have a theme.
And that theme, as specified in the title, are my strange encounters that I experience in my day-to-day goings on. Thankfully, this fits in quite well with my previous posts. So hoorah, hoorah for consistency.
Mairead's Rather Odd Encounters looks different to Mairead's Highly Interesting Mind because it's a different blog (Actually that's a lie. My blog was insecure about their appearance and was getting really moody and depressed, and being the loving person that I am gave it a bit of a makeover. Don't tell anyone, though... Insecure, remember?)
Enjoy the revamped musings of silly ol' me,
Mairead
Quackattack!
Today was a long and tiring day.
When one has been at school for numerous hours, much longer than most (ie. finally leaving at some time they call quarter to six) there is not much possible on this Earth to cheer you up.
Let us weigh up the facts:
You are a) tired
b) hungry
c) someone who has had an uneventful yet boring and tedious day at schooligans
d) desperately and achingly wishing for home which is about 45 minutes out of your reach
e) It's slightly dark and slighty cold
f) To sum up all of the above: ASS
As I said above... nothing is going to improve your mood. Even your iPod (because it a measly little 4GB nano and doesn't have anything to provide to you.
But.
Believe me.
There is something that will most definitely put a smile on your face if not hysteric laughter.
Now, now. Melbourne is a city home to many a cyclist. And as I grumpily strode my way onto Royal Parade I saw the stream of bicycles whiz past. Royal Parade is where the bike rules. Morning and night, indie uni kids, indie Uni High kids, adult city working people (a race rather foreign to my young self) race up and down good ol' Royal P. Cyclists of any speed, ones with fixies ones without; it doesn't matter. It is a sanctuary to any type of bike rider, and if you're there often enough you've pretty certain you've seen it all.
Oh, no. No you haven't.
Amongst the regular riders, coming home from work, pumping their legs up and down away from the city was a particular cyclist who caught my eye. A streak of yellow, you could call it. A fluffy yellow.
A top a bicycle riding at full speed amongst the serious roadsters was a man or woman ( it is impossible to tell) clothed purely in a bright fluffy yellow duck suit. A large circular cartoon like duck head was incorporated in such a suit.
As this quacktastic legend rode past me all my troubles floated away and melted into bursts of laughter. Yes, I was on the street alone laughing outrageously loud to myself. But I didn't care.
Neither did the duck, quite obviously.
Keep on quackin'
Mairead
When one has been at school for numerous hours, much longer than most (ie. finally leaving at some time they call quarter to six) there is not much possible on this Earth to cheer you up.
Let us weigh up the facts:
You are a) tired
b) hungry
c) someone who has had an uneventful yet boring and tedious day at schooligans
d) desperately and achingly wishing for home which is about 45 minutes out of your reach
e) It's slightly dark and slighty cold
f) To sum up all of the above: ASS
As I said above... nothing is going to improve your mood. Even your iPod (because it a measly little 4GB nano and doesn't have anything to provide to you.
But.
Believe me.
There is something that will most definitely put a smile on your face if not hysteric laughter.
Now, now. Melbourne is a city home to many a cyclist. And as I grumpily strode my way onto Royal Parade I saw the stream of bicycles whiz past. Royal Parade is where the bike rules. Morning and night, indie uni kids, indie Uni High kids, adult city working people (a race rather foreign to my young self) race up and down good ol' Royal P. Cyclists of any speed, ones with fixies ones without; it doesn't matter. It is a sanctuary to any type of bike rider, and if you're there often enough you've pretty certain you've seen it all.
Oh, no. No you haven't.
Amongst the regular riders, coming home from work, pumping their legs up and down away from the city was a particular cyclist who caught my eye. A streak of yellow, you could call it. A fluffy yellow.
A top a bicycle riding at full speed amongst the serious roadsters was a man or woman ( it is impossible to tell) clothed purely in a bright fluffy yellow duck suit. A large circular cartoon like duck head was incorporated in such a suit.
As this quacktastic legend rode past me all my troubles floated away and melted into bursts of laughter. Yes, I was on the street alone laughing outrageously loud to myself. But I didn't care.
Neither did the duck, quite obviously.
Keep on quackin'
Mairead
Friday, April 2, 2010
WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?
So here I am, at my grandparents vineyard. My mama and I went to go supermarket shopping to get some food for the Easter celebrations. We were walking down the snacks aisle, after I had insisted on us buying Shapes. Who does not love a good ol' box of Arnotts Shapes to satisfy their munchies? YOM!
A favoured choice of snack amongst children of young and old, I thought that a wise purchase for tomorrow's Easter Sunday would a be a brightly orange coloured box of one of my personal favourite flavours (or one of my "flavourites", so to speak), Chicken Crimpy. Oval shaped, crimped, golden bites of chicken-y goodness. A TRUE flavour.
But as I reach for my delectable orange box, my attention is drawn to a rusty red coloured box of Shapes. A new flavour of shapes for my snacking pleasure? I thought. Hooray.
How very wrong I was.
In red lettering under the large and colourful logo of "SHAPES" was the flavour name: SAVOURY.
I was shocked, outraged. WHAT KIND OF FLAVOUR IS SAVOURY?? SAVOURY IS NOT A FLAVOUR. Such a weak excuse... at least try the conventional PLAIN, like chips do. JESUS, Arnotts, you have truly dissappointed me.
WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO that Shape flavours can now be legitimately be passed off as Savoury. What next? Bitter? Sour? Or more probable, GENERIC. Generic flavoured Shapes. Yum yum.
NOT.
Absolutely shameful, I was appalled and expressed my dissappoint rather vocally in the Rosebud Safeway.
I leave you with this; next time you feel the need to snack upon something, and it happens to be Shapes that your fancy falls upon choose Chicken Crimpy, or Pizza or even Barbeque. But, by God, do NOT choose Savoury. Don't succumb to this worlds depressing generalising ways.
Mairead
A favoured choice of snack amongst children of young and old, I thought that a wise purchase for tomorrow's Easter Sunday would a be a brightly orange coloured box of one of my personal favourite flavours (or one of my "flavourites", so to speak), Chicken Crimpy. Oval shaped, crimped, golden bites of chicken-y goodness. A TRUE flavour.
But as I reach for my delectable orange box, my attention is drawn to a rusty red coloured box of Shapes. A new flavour of shapes for my snacking pleasure? I thought. Hooray.
How very wrong I was.
In red lettering under the large and colourful logo of "SHAPES" was the flavour name: SAVOURY.
I was shocked, outraged. WHAT KIND OF FLAVOUR IS SAVOURY?? SAVOURY IS NOT A FLAVOUR. Such a weak excuse... at least try the conventional PLAIN, like chips do. JESUS, Arnotts, you have truly dissappointed me.
WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO that Shape flavours can now be legitimately be passed off as Savoury. What next? Bitter? Sour? Or more probable, GENERIC. Generic flavoured Shapes. Yum yum.
NOT.
Absolutely shameful, I was appalled and expressed my dissappoint rather vocally in the Rosebud Safeway.
I leave you with this; next time you feel the need to snack upon something, and it happens to be Shapes that your fancy falls upon choose Chicken Crimpy, or Pizza or even Barbeque. But, by God, do NOT choose Savoury. Don't succumb to this worlds depressing generalising ways.
Mairead
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