Thursday, December 31, 2009

Top 10 Worst Things of the Decade

Here at Sandwich HQ we like to take the edge off writing hardcore serious pieces that have consumed our blood, sweat and tears for the past month (often resulting in various mental breakdowns, vodka binges and general aversion to people) and instead write a fun, light hearted list for pleasure - serious pleasure.  
 
So it's the end of the year and in fact, the end of a whole damn decade.  If you're unhinged like us, you would've noticed all the Top 10 lists of the Decade sprouting everywhere like unavoidable fungi.  So, in wanting to be cool like the cool kids, Sandwich here has decided to join in and write our own fascinating list of The Top 10 WORST Things of the Decade.  What we hope will not re-surface in the new decade, R.I.P  2000-2009

10.  IPHONES/IPODS/ISUCKS

Do you honestly need to check your 405 so-called ‘friends’s status updates when you’re out having a latte?  Do you even ever call people with your phone anymore? 

The rate at which mobile technology is evolving is becoming practically ridiculous.  The fact that other technologies are not, is alarming.  Think about it.  You ask a satellite from outer space to send you minute pictures of the closest Starfucks to your mobile, yet if you become blind, they still only give you a stick, guide dog and a ‘good luck’.   

If that’s not bad enough, how about this for horrific: Mining for the materials needed to make mobiles (amongst other things) are often bought from rebel groups and militia in certain African nations like the DR Congo, thus helping fuel the horrendous conflicts that occur there.  There is also the twisted tale of companies Nokia and Sieman’s helping the Iranian regime gather information on citizens in the post-election crackdown earlier this year. For shame mobile technology, for shame.

9.  HOT PANTS

When did forgetting to wear your pants out become a fashion statement?  Is this the cause of global warming in that our legs become so over heated due to the melting of the icecaps that we must wear less and less in hopes of not self combusting?    Has the recession hit us so hard that we can no longer afford materials long enough to cover our entire leg thus must get the mini version for sake of financial dependency?  Has showing cleavage taken a back seat and become so last century? 
So many questions hotpants, so many.  Yet you stay silent and infect us still with your ghastly sight. Be gone.  

8.  GEORGE W BUSH

Enough said.

7.  SMOKING BANS

As the only sole smoker (and thus only really cool person) at Sandwich, Minga has personal beef with the above.  I’m not talking about the ban on smoking inside, which makes a lot of sense, but with areas OUTSIDE, which are banned.  This is not 1984 and I am not smoking crack, so give me peace.  Plus I don’t appreciate overweight ugly citizens telling me that what I am doing is bad for me, whilst they chug back a lager and heart-attack breakfast.  Be gone anti-smoking Nazi’s and stop attempting to horde us into smoker’s ghettos.  Otherwise we will be forced to make our own nation-state by ways of illegal smoker’s settlements and smoking nukes.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Spiritual Group or Deviant Cult

Let me set the Scene:

Place - Party in Zone 1.
People - A random bunch of randoms…
Caustic Humour - Yes

Host: Hey, let me introduce you to *****. They are friends of mine from *** ***** *****.

**For fear of being 'taken out', I am going to conveniently forget the name of this Cult, ooops I mean Spiritual Group**

The Leader: Hi. You look familiar.

Me: Oh okay. We may have seen each other somewhere, but I don’t recall.

The Leader: Where do you work?

Me: I work near Charing Cross, kind of at the top of the Queens road.

The Leader: Have you heard of a place called Heaven?

Me & My Silent Thoughts: Yes, that's where I'm going when I die.

The Leader: It’s a club in Charing Cross. Have you heard of it?

Me: No. I’ve never heard of it.

The Leader: Have you heard of Canal Street in Manchester?

Me & My Silent Thoughts: Where is this going?!

Me: Yes.

The Leader: Did you know that if you remove the letter C from Canal Street, you are left with Anal Street.

Me: (Blank stare holding his gaze)

Me: Oh yeah!

The Leader: (Smiling)

Me & My Silent Thoughts: Do I remind him of a gay man?

Guilty by Default

This tragic tale was inspired by real life events…

Sometimes in life we all do things we regret but true courage is measured by ones strength to admit these crimes and face the consequences like a real woman. By running away, you’ve not only cheated your victims but you’ve cheated YOURSELF!

On a day I care to forget, I fell victim to a horrific crime. I lost all sense of worth and it’s taken me a very long time to forgive. But forgiveness has helped me get my life back. I just wanted my life back…

You hear that b**** - I forgive you!


THE CRIME SCENE: Two Cubicles - One “Engaged” & One “Vacant”

Engaged Cubicle: The Assailant is seemingly very busy.

Vacant Cubicle: The Innocent Victim enters.

Engaged Cubicle: The Assailant makes a quick exit from the crime scene leaving behind
undeniable lingering evidence.

Vacant Cubicle: The Innocent Victim appears from behind closed doors unaware of the
grave consequences that were about to unfold before her very eyes.

**Suddenly the eyes glaze over in pain, tears are streaming and lunch suddenly makes its appearance again**

The Crime Scene: The Silent Witness enters. But was this five minutes too late? Could her
arrival moments before, have altered the course of events that followed? Would they have been witness to the real culprit of such a heinous crime? Suddenly, her accusing eyes meet that of the Innocent Victim.

The Innocent Victim feels the silent accusations piece through the heart like a burning steak! In a moment of sheer panic she turns to her God. But will this God ever be able to save her the fate that is DEATH BY EMBARRASSSMENT…

Friday, December 25, 2009

Happy Holidays Haiku



Dear Hot Santa
Instead of crap gifts this year
Give me employment.

Or I will have to
Drown in a pool of vodka
Never to surface.
Splash.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Repel of the Week

Speaks for himself really...



(from the TV show 'Lost in Austen'....highly recommended by Minga 'Team Wickham 4 Life').

But of course we can't leave it there.  For here at Sandwich, we are in the repelling business and we do what we do best.  So here's the REAL repel of the week.

INT.  BAR, SMALL RANDOM TOWN - NIGHT

Ravishing intellectual GIRL sits in a chilled out funky bar post-pub crawl. Next to her sits GUY and GUY'S FRIEND.  They make general chit chat. 

Suddenly Guy puts arm around back of couch.
Then Guy puts hand on back of Girl.
All three converse as normal, about lusts, passions and the general decline of human civilisation.
Guy begins running hand through Girl's abnormally gorgeous hair.
Conversations continue this time around the fall of the Berlin wall, the demise of Western philosophies and the emergence of the third sex.
Guy starts stroking back of Girl's neck then slowly begins giving her a neck massage.

Girl begins to feel a little awkward but has decided that the guy seems okay (and cute and well let's be frank, she's rather desperate)  so relaxes and smiles.


The conversations are heavenly, the aesthetics pleasing enough and the air is rife with pleasure, so Girl begins to even like Guy.

Then Guy turns to the girl, his face beaming with a gigantic smile.

GUY: Can you imagine how it would feel....

[ wait for it....]

GUY:  If i was massaging your breasts?'

Girl abruptly leaves and decides to contemplate going to Family bar from now on instead.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

You Have Post...

Sometimes it takes just one email to send ones mind into total chaos – exhilaration and disappointment at the same time…

On Monday 14th Dec 2009 and spanning over two days, I felt the emotional highs and lows of such an email.

Read on…

Extract:

---------------------------
From: *****, Sonia (*****) Sent: 14 December 2009 15:22
To: *****, Sheena (*****)Subject: post

Hi Sheena,

I have post for you; which floor do you sit on?
Many thanks,
Sonia
--------------------------

From: *****, Sheena (*****) Sent: 14 December 2009 15:51
To: *****, Sonia (*****)Subject: RE: post
Hi Sonia…

I sit on the 4th floor.

I never get post.

Thanks
Sheena…
--------------------------

From: *****, Sonia (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 09:39
To: *****, Sheena (*****)Subject: RE: post

Hi Sheena,

I'll pop it down to the 4th, sorry, it doesn't look that exciting...

Sonia
--------------------------

From: *****, Sheena (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 09:47
To: *****, Sonia (*****)Subject: RE: post
Thank you Sonia …

A shame though! I was hovering on the edge of anticipation yesterday afternoon and this morning that something exciting and mind-blowing was beckoning…
--------------------------

From: *****, Sonia (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 09:55
To: *****, Sheena (*****)Subject: RE: post

hahaha, I've put it in your pigeonhole, you never know, it could be a life-changing piece of post!
-------------------------

From: *****, Sheena (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 11:52
To: *****, Sonia (*****)Subject: RE: post

After all the “potential” excitement around this infamous letter for me, I feel inclined to tell you that I did rush over to my pigeon hole after receiving your email. I then proceeded to walk back to my desk with my head held down in shame. The utter madness in thinking that I would receive an exciting piece of news and then sharing this anticipation with a complete stranger.

I would put this letter in my Top 10 of “Most UN-Exciting Letter’s” ever received…

I can but only dream…
---------------------------
From: *****, Sonia (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 12:22
To: *****, Sheena (*****)Subject: RE: post

I'm sorry to hear of your disappointment, it will be tough but I'm sure you'll get through these dark times. Never give up hope, the next letter could be the One....! ;-p
-------------------------

From: *****, Sheena (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 12:46
To: *****, Sonia (*****)Subject: RE: post
Dear Sonia

Your wise words of wisdom have lifted my spirits somewhat. I now feel like life has a purpose and the thought of “the one” will get me through the dark times I feel at present. When that day finally comes and I rip open the letter to discover the most breath-taking existence I am about to experience, YOU shall be the first to know. You have given me hope Sonia… Stand proud!

I think I am now ready to face life again, and my PrĂȘt Bloomer with Mozzarella, Pesto and Tomato…

Sheena…
(Name with No Face)
-------------------------

From: *****, Sonia (*****) Sent: 15 December 2009 12:52
To: *****, Sheena (*****)Subject: RE: post

Dear Sheena,

Thank you for your kind words, I'm happy i've managed to lift you out of your gloom, even if only for a brief moment. Now that now you've glimpsed what life used to be life before 'the letter', I hope this will give you the strength and courage to embrace life with passion and vigour.
Your Pret bloomer is the food of champions, I am sure of this now- you will survive!!!
------------------------

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Obama, Me and the Nobel Peace Prize - Unrequited Love?

In case you have been too busy wondering whether or not the awesomely named Tiger Woods' sexual affairs will go into triple digits, you may have failed to know about the other big news that has taken the international media by storm: US President Barack Hussein Obama was controversially awarded the prestigious Nobel Peace Prize award. 


Now as usual, there's been a whole lotta hoopla around the decision to award someone who had only been in office for two weeks before winning and who allegedly hasn't achieved much to receive such an accolade.   The committee who has awarded the same gong to such legends as Mother Teresa, The Red Cross and Nelson Mandela, defended their arguments in that they were awarding Obama on what he will achieve as opposed to what he's already not done.  Hmmm, remember what they say about assumptions?

So Sandwich political correspondent Minga, decided to head over to Norway to interview the man in question about these divided opinions. 

With respect to keeping it ethnic, Minga also invited her man Mahatma Gandhi (the bald dude who led India to independence from the Poms) and Dr Martin Luther King Jnr (the dude who led the Civil Rights Movement against the haters and crackers in the US).

The three of us sit in a plush, highly secured hotel suite in Oslo, sipping tea and eating vegan crack cakes.


Minga:  Senor Obama, do you think it rather ironic that after you won a prize for peace, you bombed the moon?  I mean honestly, were you on crack?  What did the moon do to you?  Is there an inter-galactic Al-Qaeda Martian cell that we don't know about?  Did the Moon take you out, tell you it loved you then never called?

Obama:  Look, negotiations cannot convince al Qaeda's leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force is sometimes necessary is not a call to cynicism -- it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.  
Gandhi:  You bombed the moon?
Martin Luther King Jnr:  This was not the dream I had intended...

M:  Ok, let's move onto your speech.  Why did you continually try to justify war in your speech regarding the PEACE prize you were awarded?  Are you like one of those guys who tries to justify that it doesn't count as cheating if you never told the girl you were in a relationship?  That it doesn't count as cheating if they were in a different country/drunk/a celebrity?  Because that's kinda desperate and douchy. 
BIG O:  Look I was trying to acknowledge the controversy surrounding the committee's decision.  I'm a big follower of the two gentlemen here, but I cannot follow their examples only. 
DRMLKJ:  Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones.
O:  I totally said that in my speech.

 
M:  So who do you think will win it next year?  The state of Israel?  More importantly how do you think we can achieve peace, Mr Peacemaker?

 O (bi Wan Kenobi):  First, [we must] deal with those nations that break rules and laws...
M:  So the US will finally join the World Court?
O:  No, but...one urgent example is the effort to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons, and to seek a world without them.
M:  So the US will disband their 5,500 nuclear arsenals?
[awkward pause]
 O:  I am working with President Medvedev to reduce America and Russia's nuclear stockpiles.
M:  Ok, that's a start.
O:  But it is also incumbent upon all of us to insist that nations like Iran and North Korea do not game the system...those who seek peace cannot stand idly by as nations arm themselves for nuclear war. 
M:  Dude, four syllables: Hi-ro-shi-ma. 
O:  Alright I'll give you that one.
M:  Na-ga-sa-ki?
O:  I give up. 
[Then he flashes me one of those infamous charming smiles and the hypocrisies are quickly forgotten] 

M:  So Mr Gandhi Sir, are you super pissed off that you were never awarded this prize despite the fact that your whole movement against imperialism was about PEACE and NON-VIOLENCE?  Yet goobers like the Quakers got one?

Gandhi:  I have learned through bitter experience the one supreme lesson to conserve my anger, and as heat conserved is transmuted into energy, even so our anger controlled can be transmuted into a power which can move the world
DRMLKJ:  Considering a lot of my inspiration for a non-violent resistance came from you Mr Gandhi, I too agree with the Minga one.  You was robbed son.
Minga:  So if we get angry and violent we can change the world?
(HO) Bama:  I told you.

M:  Speaking of dreams, Dr King, I had this weirdass one where I was running around like mad trying to find a sweater for the dude out of Twilight.  Then he got really mad when I couldn't find one and he became a T-Rex and chased me.
[pause]
MLK:  Is there a question?
M:  No but what of a waste of dream huh?
G:  Fear has its use, but cowardice has none.
O:  I had this dream last night too...
M:  No one cares, War-monger.

And with that, the four of us hug intimately and exchange Facebook details.

*The majority of Obama and Gandhi quotes are real.  We just took them out of context...slightly.  You can find his speech here.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Ginga's Bachelors of the Week

Zoosk Bachelors of the Week!

Max is single and looking for someone. I'm busy this week, but if you'd like to date him write and tell us. Max is a great guy, but I'll let him do the talking:

Hi, my name is Max.Ireally liked ur foto and descrption below , im single and looking for some one i donnt know myself. Dont worry im not psyho and im not asking for date, just whanted to write to u. I hope u got it wright.

Buy.

Carl is a real up-front guy. He has many more attributes that he likes to show-off but I couldn't publish them on this blog (unless we want this shut down faster than you can say blogging in China):

ur, nice, add, me. x


Meet James. He's 25, listens to Rod Stewart and has a 15 year old son who doesn't live with him. His ideal date: 'a meal with soft lighting, candles, peach-colored sunsets and maybe a perfect bottle of wine to a perfect evening and let's just see if after popping that first bottle there's more to come..; )




(Yes someone actually wrote these on my internet dating profile. Yes I have an internet profile. Long story. Ask Minga)

Thursday, December 10, 2009

London Tokyo Paris Christchurch

London Tokyo Paris Christchurch

Christchurch is just like a good coffee - flat and white - and it's a city worth getting to know! Wheresmyfreakinsandwich Christchurch correspondent, Ginga gives us the lowdown of what's been happening in New Zealand's hippest city this week.


Well many of you may know that my fascination with ChCh began in France, when I was teaching in a small town called Sarlat. One day a fellow kiwi - Hamish from Christchurch - gave me a buzz and said and was working in my area. So here in this rural, wine-making French town  famous for it's cuisine, we searched high and low for a good English pub (he wasn't a fan of "European food") and we sat down for a chat over a Speights or two. I was instantly smitten. The son of a farmer, he had learned to make knives at age two and had developed his craft until it had become, "a hobby that pays for itself". I wanted to know all about him, his city, and finally when I got a job as a travel writer for ChCh I thought I had struck gold!

 
Packed brimful with English culture, oozing with monotone character, and piled medium height with style, I arrived in this city and thought wow, I feel like I am in England! Now that's world class! Carefully planned by city forefathers with an anglo-saxon, anally-retentive penchant for neatness, the grid-like streets of ChCh radiate from a bustling urban heart (12pm-2pm Fri-Sat) where heritage buildings stand side by side with soviet era Romanian orphanages.



The CBD is retail central, so put on your walking shoes and hit the shops!


As I touch down in the city I find that the Santa Parade is going full steam. I had earlier been injured whilst accidentally wandering into a crowd of men in kilts having a bagpipe-off so I knew to keep my wits about me! But I also knew that I didn't really need to worry as the garden city has been pretty safe due to a patrolling, vigilante group of bald men who wear regallia (I believe their motifs are Buddhist symbols) who walk around the streets looking out for any signs of trouble. They're top blokes. No wonder this is known as the 'friendly city'.


As the Santa Parade continues, the mayor of Christchurch proudly announces that the city can now boast having over 14 different nationalities and they are all represented by each different float. Thais, Russians, Japanese, Dutch, Koreans, Chinese...all proudly displaying their costumes, dances and vibrant colours. One of the balding men in his cut-off leather jacket with Buddhist symbols (perhaps they are white monks??) begins to look very agitated and he jumps out in front of the Chinese float and tackles one of the Chinese dragon dancers to the ground. Wow, what a top bloke. Good to know we have people in the community helping to keep the peace. He'd probably spotted an illegal immigrant or something.


Another day in the garden city. I'll keep you updated with all the events as they happen.


Bye for now. I'm going to try and find Hamish!


Ginga
Christchurch Correspondent

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The Top 5 Most Over Rated Movies Ever...


Here at Sandwich HQ we like to take the edge off writing hardcore serious pieces that have consumed our blood, sweat and tears for the past month (often resulting in various mental breakdowns, vodka binges and general aversion to people) and instead write a fun, light hearted list for pleasure - serious pleasure.


With hopes of keeping this short, we've focused more on the films that received undeserved critical attention and hype hence fooling us mere mortals into believing that we would be witnessing a cinematic masterpiece - instead of the douchery pile of over hyped bullocks that was the reality.   Here we go, let's get serious:

5Most things by Oliver Stone
 
[Another night at Christophes]

 Oliver Stone is  a self-taught writer/director, 'Nam veteran, who has been known to make 'gritty' and 'controversial' films about war, US Presidents, US football, and dodgy inaccurate historical epics.  He also lives up to his name in being stoned whilst on set (Minga knows this for a fact after conversing with one of his cocky cameramen - they're all cocky, it's inevitable, but at least Stone wasn't whacked out on coke and throwing walkies at me, but I/we digress.  We'll get onto the film set caste system another time).

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Where's My Freakin' Letters?

Here at Sandwich, we don't get mail.  Ever. So we've resorted to stealing other publications' correspondence and answered them ourselves.  Because we can all agree that Cosmopolitan's real goal is to annihilate the entire female species back into the Dark Ages.  These are real letters people.  Serious stuff.

Dear Cosmo,
I just recently had a close male friend tell me that he often thought of us taking our friendship to the next level.  I told him the thought of sleeping with him, made me throw up in my mouth a little.  This is news to me, can’t men and women just be friends or am I asking too much?
Regards,
Girl who threw up in her mouth (alright so her real name was Janet but this fits better)    

For the longest time, we believed (naively so) in the theory that two people can be just plutonic friends without it developing into anything sexual.  That is, can a straight man and a straight woman be just friends.  The plain answer, after many years of constantly being disappointed, is a big fat no.

If you haven’t already heard it, we can almost gurantee that one day that great male BFF of yours will reveal how he often thought of you two going out because to him, it’s inevitable that you would have thought the same.  If the possibility of sex is there, the man would have thought of it.    

Researching deeper, our Homo on the Run correspondent can also agree that the same goes in the men who like men category, probably even more so.  If you don’t believe us, walk into the Sanctuary Soho club’s bathrooms on a Friday night.  (Minga’s note:  Say hi to Dominic and ask him to call me when he likes vaginas again).    

What about our good friends in lele land?  Can females who dig other females be plutonic friends?  According to a source, lesbians can be friends with other lesbians for years without it becoming sexual.  We generalise of course, but that’s what we do best.    

So, the only conclusion we can come to is this:  MEN WANT SEX.  Like duh.  If you need more assurance, listen to what a male friend of ours told Minga (shortly before declaring that aforementioned I WANT SEX).  “If you want to think like man, have a couple of drinks so that you’re a little tipsy.  You’ll also become a bit more confident, horny and notice how every person in the bar becomes a lot more attractive.  Then you’re a man”.    

If you can prove our theory wrong, please do.  Do it.  For the children.    

Dear Cosmo,
How can I please my man so that he doesn’t stray?
Regards, __
P.s Thanks for the intense piece Undercover at Tanning Salons.  I learnt so much.    

Dear Blank,

You need to realise that those dirty lele feminists of the past have been oppressing our men for years.  God, we got the vote, what more do we want?  The Victorian's were right, we simply can't mensturate and think at the same time, that's just cause for mania! 
 

And now our men are suffering.  They are such victims and we need to help put an end to such inequalities.  We need our men to feel appreciated and loved so that they don't look for it someplace else.  We suggest we stop all this women's right's nonsense and head back to a simpler, less complex time where men were men and women were chained to a vaccum cleaner popping valium.  We'll get you started, take a look at this 1950’s Home Economics Handbook.  Brilliant stuff. 

And finally a real question and a real answer from answerology.com:


Dear Cosmo Girl,
 
I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m 18 years old! I’m scared that if and when I find a guy I like, I will mess things up since I am so inexperienced! What should I do?  

Answer:  Please go to the cosmo site and ask there.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Repel of the Week

INT.  Romantic cafe, Auckland City - Night

BOY, 20 something year old ravishing blonde with an amazing quiff and extremely tight jeans to rival that of Italians, sits with his friend of a couple of years, GIRL.  Girl is 20 something, brunette and with an air of desperation that drapes around her.
She looks longingly to Boy.

GIRL:  I'm...in love with you.
BOY:  I'm...gay.
GIRL:  Really?
BOY:  Really.
GIRL:  Can't you be bi or something?
BOY:  Uh, no.
[Cue Awkward Moment]

TRUE STORY!!!*


*Note:  Not ours.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Where's My Freakin' Haiku?


Oh writer's block scum
Why are you so cruel? Damn you
Forever.  Revive me.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Dictation: Interview with A Hot Dictator


Charming, laid-back, drop-dead gorgeous and anything but a tyrant. Ginga meets NapolĂ©on Bonaparte, the World’s Top Dictator contestant who showed the most flair.


The ‘80s fashion revival works way best on those born in the 1780s. With his taut body shape and soft brown eyes, NapolĂ©on Bonaparte is a dream in his tight white pants and tailored jacket with shoulder pads. Though he describes himself as something of a ‘goofeyball’, and watching him on our shoot, pumping his fist in the air to Bruce Springsteen’s Born To Run testifies to this, he is quite possibly the most elegant person in the room. “People they ask me where I buy my jacket, my shoes, my hat”, says the Corsican, who’s often approached on the street, mostly by starstruck teenage girls. “And common thing that young girl say me is, ‘Ohhh...you’re not that short’. And do you know what I say them? I say ‘oh and you are not that ugly mademoiselle. And I don’t care who you are and where you are from...as long as you love me’ ”. The overall impression you get from NapolĂ©on is of originality, old-world charm and understated eloquence.

Monday, November 30, 2009

8 Literary Characters We'd Like to Shag

Here at Sandwich HQ we like to take the edge off writing hardcore serious pieces that have consumed our blood, sweat and tears for the past month (often resulting in various mental breakdowns, vodka binges and general aversion to people) and instead write a fun, light hearted list for pleasure - serious pleasure. Enjoy and please add any future list title suggestions in comments.

Our list today is in celebration of classic and famous literary characters we'd like to shag.  This is in response to a similar list, where the author of the list was obviously on crack and completely asexual, because who in their right mind would shag Holden Caulfield from Catcher in the goddamn Rye yet not include Dorian Gray?  Honestly, people get your priorities sorted.  We have. 

 8 TODD WILKINS/BRUCE PATMAN - Sweet Valley High by Francine Pascal

 Whether you're the type who fell for the boy-next-door, closeted homo with an amazing hair quiff  or the preppy egomaniac with the 80's sportscar and rapist wit, these guys make it to our list. Though Patman over here, looks uncannily like the love-child of Zac Efron and Paris Hilton... let's hope that we are never exposed to such atrocities (i.e Hilton spawning).

Travel Piece - London



Haiku for London
Why were you so cruel? Damn you
Forever.  Call me.

Where's My Freakin' Sexist Stereotype? Cougar Quiz!



Cougars are so hot right now.  So are quizzes.  So we've combined the two.  Enjoy.
Dedicated to Diana, Amanda, and Safeena - cougars for life.

 You’re out on the prowl tonight with your friends – all less attractive than you of course so as to eliminate any competition.  Your clothing of choice is:
 a)      Throwbacks to the early 00’s – white pants, fluorescent boob tubes/backless glitter tops and metallics.
b)      All black dress/power suit

Once you’re out and about in some flashy club, full of humanity’s degenerates and horrendously banal music, you spot a group of good looking males.  Your next move is:
a)      Watch intently then prey on the weaker one
b)      Leave while your dignity is still intact.


This is:
a) Cougar Bait
b) A girl with a great nose job and badly shaped brows.

Did you only have a daughter so that you could go on double dates and Jonas Brothers concerts?
a)      Absolutely.  The male foetus was ‘taken care of’.
b)      No.

Some people have mottos.  We don’t, but you do.  It’s:
a)      Hunt rather than be hunted.
b)      I don’t do mottos.

If you were to lobby the government for anything it would be:
a)      Lower the age of consent
b)      Tax reform

Your choice of drug is:
a)      Rohypnol
b)      Yuppie classics: wine, coke and greed

What’s the best thing about marriage?
a)      Divorce with alimony
b)      Divorce with alimony

Mostly A’s – You must be happy, just as happy as that 21 year old in the Abercrombie and Crap polo that you’re stalking.
   
Mostly B’s – Obviously you need to educate yourself in the ways of the cougar.  (No, really it's an actual site with actual dating services catering to 'cougars'...sweet baby Jesus).

[Zac Efron]

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Where's My Freakin' Film Review? This Is It



Oh MJ.  How I loved thee.  So before we begin this review, you must know that I was/am a major fan.  Short of actually wanting to become Michael Jackson, I grew up slightly obsessed with the gloved one.  This included performing personalised choreography to Billie Jean and coming fourth at a talent contest (that consisted of four contestants, but let’s face it, you’re never gonna win when there’s freckled, gap toothed, 10 year old playing a violin) and I even held an MJ party.  I have pictures and witnesses who can testify.  Don’t judge, you know it’s a genius idea.

Yet I did not cry when I saw him in concert back in the day, nor when he died, yet I almost cried when I watched this shameful debaucle of a so-called ‘film’.  Cried from sheer boredom.
Yes, he sings, yes he moves, yes he wears Spock-like shoulder pads and cartooned pants, but this film is basically what it says it is:  recordings of someone rehearsing a concert.  Someone rehearsing for two hours! As in no amazing effects, some random dancing and a whole bunch of people on stage in trackpants being watched by roadies and lighting supervisors.
 
This was obviously a ploy for the company responsible for the 50 concerts to get their millions back.  And we all know that exploitation of the dead sells, just ask Elvis.  And yes, I brought up Elvis on purpose to suggest fake deaths with hopes that MJ is also chilling in some rural South American township, raising llamas and smoking shisha with the local indigenous tribes.  If you don’t believe me, read this.


I give it a sandwich rating of tuna and mayo on rye bread with a hint of tomato.  Boring.   You’re better off watching this instead.  Pure subtly.





Friday, November 27, 2009

Allow Us to Introduce Ourselves...



Ginga is a ravishing manic depressive with a hunchback, expensive toe socks and jugs to die for.

Likes: Parisian men; homemade seafood paella; Parisian men who make seafood paella; men who don't use babywipes in unusual ways; trouser braces; America's Next Top Model; Parisian men in trouser braces making seafood paella.

Dislikes: heart shaped candy (induces vomiting); umbrellas; sandwiches; induced vomiting; PA's; chats about the weather by PA's; socks; vampire chavs.

Person in History She'd Resurrect Just To Shag: Napolean

 Minga is an ethnically vague, buck toothed, aspiring gay man in a woman's body with a sparkle in her eye.

Likes: Minge jokes; Parisian men; Parisian men who are not repelled; sabotage; High School Musical; laser hair removal; forceful groping; inanimate object costumes; existential prose; eating; being awesome.

Dislikes: Sandwiches; human beings in general; weddings; seafood paella; flutes; text abbreviations like LOL, WTF and OMG; things with more than four legs and wings; diamonds.

Person in History She'd Resurrect Just To Shag: Lord Byron (if his syphilis has disappeared).

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Welcome our Minions

Currently Minga and Ginga are extremely busy leading extremely busy lives - what with Ginga whoring it up in Christchurch with Neo-Nazi's and IRA tank drivers, and Minga having an extremely sexual affair with Jon Stewart (in their quest to make the ultimate Super Babies from the Middle East).

Sandwich decided to hire two honourable minions to contribute to the blog. And by hire we mean blackmail, and by blackmail we mean photographic evidence, and by photographic evidence we mean when you're snorting illegal grade-A coke off the abs of a 15 year old Saudi Prince whilst wearing your baby seal fur coat and conflict diamond necklace, DON'T THINK NO ONE WILL FIND OUT!

Let us now introduce them and welcome them to the Sandwich family...



Minion #1 is the quirky accountant (...but aspiring MI6 Agent/Gangsters Moll) and hair model and London correspondent, Sheenghis (Sheena) Khan.

Turn ons: hovering on the edge of anticipation; power drills; arm wrestles; glossy hair products; Excel spreadsheets; building fabulous sets of drawers; 17 degrees; James Dean; the Mafia; ten-pin bowling; chasing the edge; ravaging China, India and half the Persian Empire.

Minion #2 is the ethically and morally vague Christophe, our correspondent in Paris, France.

Turn ons: Russian pilots; Ryan Tedder; the Economist; zebra jumpsuits; singing power ballads on Parisian streets; half-naked one man shows to 80's tunes; the Goddess that is Madonna; Brazilian porn; Brazilian porn featuring Madonna; love; sex and magic.

You have been warned...
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