Jason Hutchens: mental procrastination

Jason Hutchens: mental procrastination


I went to a football game the other day with a few friends. One of them commented that the oval looked smaller than he had expected. I said, "What do you mean? It's 100 metres wide and 200 metres long! Of course", I added, "that's only a ballpark figure."


A dictionary gives meanings of words in terms of other words. The trouble is, if you don't know what those other words mean, you're in real trouble, because you have to look those ones up too, and eventually you'll come back to the word which you were looking up in the first place. The word "means" is a typical example, because whenever I ask someone to tell me what it means, they say, "Well, Jason, the word 'means' means...", and I interrupt and say, "but, hang on, you haven't told me what 'means' means, yet", and then smoke comes out of their ears.

Star Wars

I only realised this the other day, but, in the Star Wars movies, you never actually find out who Luke Skywalker's mother is. I can only hope that it isn't Yoda.

Axe Murderers

There was this news story on TV a while back about a young man who murdered his parents. When the reporter asked the obviously shocked neighbours about the man, they told him how quiet and harmless he seemed. Then one of them remembered how he had made constant death threats against his parents. Another chipped in with stories of him shooting cats with an air rifle. And then pandemonium broke out, as the neighbours started yelling about how he was a crazy freak, and how they all hated his guts.


A clergyman once told me that Jesus managed to feed thousands of people with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. I think he made a clerical error.

Fancy Dress

The other day I went to a costume shop, because a friend was having a fancy dress party, and I was browsing around, looking at various costumes. I grabbed a nuns outfit off the rack, and held it up to check it out. It was dirty and mouldy, it had holes in it... man, it was truly horrible. As I was looking at it, another patron marched over to me, and rather angrily said, "That's a disgusting habit you've picked up!"

Indian Food

Did you know there was an Indian version of The Beatles? They even went through a weird stage, hanging out with the Archbishop of Canterbury and playing acoustic guitars instead of their sitars. Here's the lyrics to one of their most enduring songs:

Dear Sir and Madam, here's your vindaloo
It took me days and days to cook it up for you
It's based on a recipe I got from my mum
And it's very very hot, so you'll need to have some
Cucumber raita!
Cucumber raita!

It's a lovely curry, with some lovely naan
(there's some popadoms in the frying pan)
Sir, you appear to be turning pale
You're an unsteady sod; so instead of beer
Cucumber raita!
Cucumber raita!


I reckon they should make a watch which measures time as it is perceived, so that when you're waiting for a bus and you say "Gee, it feels like I've been waiting for an hour", you'd look at your watch and it would really be an hour.

Library Books

Why is it that about twenty percent of the books in any library smell really strange when you open them up? Kinda like someone vomited on them about fifteen years ago. It's weird, man. It makes me sick, man.

Sesame Street

There comes a time in every young boys life when he realizes that the characters on Sesame Street aren't real; that they are, in fact, mere puppets. When this dawned on me, I became interested in the puzzle of how Big Bird's mouth moved. One sad day I made the connection; his left arm doesn't move at all, it just hangs there limply by his side. Now, what I want to know is, what kind of message is that sending to left-handed kiddies?


With modern technology and everything, you'd think they could have done a better job on bells for bicycles. I mean, you spend a fortune on your bike, and then you get this little crappy thing which makes an embarrassing tinkling sound. I want to be able to buy a serious bell so I can ride around town and blast people with it. "Ain't laughing at me now, are ya?"


Isn't it interesting how words change their meaning with time? I was reading a book from 1895 the other day, and I came across a passage which read: "The chambermaid rushed sobbing from the room, followed by Mr. Dawkins, who was ejaculating wildly." I was very offended, until I realized that the word "sobbing" has changed meaning drastically in the last hundred years.


What really irritated me about the X-Files is that Scully and Mulder never seem to be able to locate a light-switch when they enter an unfamiliar place. I want to see an episode where Scully yells out "Hey, I found the light switch!", and proceeds to turn all the lights on. "Good thinking, Scully", Mulder would say.


My friend plays in an orchestra, but recently she broke her instrument. I suggested that she repair it with cellotape.


I really hate those corny romantic American movies where, at the end of the film, the two lovers embrace in a public place and the crowd of onlookers break into spontaneous applause. I was in a restaurant once and this guy kissed his girlfriend, so I started clapping and whooping. But nobody else joined in. And then the guy said "Hey, what are you doing, buddy?", so I said "I'm clapping man, can't you see that?", and then came on over and punched me in the nose. So that's why I hate those movies.


I get really pissed off walking around my city, especially during the week when all the grannies are about. They wander around getting in the way of people who actually have something important to do. I reckon there should be a law against that sort of thing. We have laws for cars on roads, so why not laws for pedestrians on footpaths? You should have to keep left, and do a hand signal if you want to cut across to go into a shop. They could even have little traffic lights, or a policeman conducting the flow of people-traffic. The policemen would wear flashing blue lights on their heads, and they could pull you over for speeding, or walking under the influence (to prove your sobriety, you'd have to drive a car in a straight line). You'd have a walkers license, and if you committed too many walking offences, they'd revoke your license and you'd have to stay at home all day. That'd keep the grannies off our footpaths!


I was in the city with a girl, and she said to me, "Do you like the sarong that girl over there is wearing?". I bellowed out, "What sarong?", and a passing ethnic stereotype yelled back "Nothing's a-wrong, mate! What's da matter with you, eh?"


I know that parents are really obsessive about keeping a clean and tidy house, but one thing I've never understood is the concept of drying the dishes. It's got to be the stupidest, most pointless activity you can do, because if you don't do anything at all the dishes will quite happpily dry themselves for you. Even so, my mother never appreciates my offers to help in the kitchen.

Bald Spots

Once I saw a guy with an inverted bald spot. He was entirely bald apart from a small round patch of healthy growth on the top of his head. I guess he was from "Bizarro World".


Imagine if you could trade your wife in, the same as you would with your old car. Brian Gardner would be making TV ads which said "Push her in, roll her in, get her in anyway you can and we'll give you a minimum $1000 cash back for your old bomb." Or you could sell your wife privately, by advertising her in the newspaper. You'd have all these dodgy types coming around to your house on Saturday morning, looking your wife up and down, lifting the skirt and so on. "How many miles has she done, then?" they'd ask. And you'd get the disappointed guys ringing up too late. "Is the wife gone yet? Ah bugger, sounded like a good deal." Lube jobs would never be the same again.


If you're ever accosted by an angry man wearing a chicken costume, I'll bet that his angry red face will look really funny peering out at you from within the chicken's beak.


I have always found it rather odd that businessmen affect to wear their ties on their shoulders when outdoors in the city. I think someone should do a study on it.


I think the next big leap in technology will be smells. It will take just one geek to come up with some big breakthrough, and in no time at all everyone will be talking about the great new "smell chip". Sony would develop a sleek smell machine, with their own smell format, but the other manufacturers would band together and develop an inferior smell format which would become successful through clever marketing campaigns. Televisions would be made "smell compatible". If you wanted to smell in private, you could wear little "nose-olfactors". Musicians would play special smell instruments at gigs, and you'd better watch out for the door-to-door smell salesman. Smell lovers would complain about synthetic smells, and they would harp on and on about the good old days, and how great the natural smells were back then. Computers would come with an optional "smell card", and software for mixing smells. You could customize your desktop to have your favourite smell, and you'd be able to download new smells. When an error occurs, a special smell would be emitted.


The other day I pointed out a tattoo on a man's arm to a friend. "That's a Swastika", I said. "You mean its not a real tattoo?", she replied.


Why is it that we care so much about hair? Women shave off most of their body hair, and then spend hours making sure that what they have left looks really nice. I wonder; would they shave under their arms if wondrous golden locks of beautiful flowing hair grew there? And what if they had pubic hair on their heads? I know it's a preposterous notion, but it keeps me amused on boring bus journeys!


The say Gatorade puts back what the sweat takes out. Everyone seems to accept that. Nobody has questioned the whole Gatorade deal. Well, I am here to dispel a few myths about Gatorade. What sweat takes out of you is sweat. So when you drink Gatorade, you are drinking orange flavoured sweat. God only knows how they manufacture so much of the stuff, but I'm willing to bet that recently used sports clothing is involved somewhere along the line. Why do you think they put their name on so many t-shirts?


I went to a Chinese Barbeque place a while back, and I wanted to eat something that I've never had before. So I ordered brisket. Now, I don't know what brisket is, but when I ordered it, all the waitresses in the shop started giggling, and the one taking my order asked me if I'd like to reconsider. Feeling embarrassed, and unwilling to back down, I insisted that I wanted brisket, and asked her to bring it to me poste haste. Well, I did get my brisket after a while. The waitress handed it to me like it was an explosive device, and any sudden movement would set it off. When I took it from her, she leaned over and whispered to me "It's actually beef". Those three words have haunted me ever since that fateful day. Somehow, I managed to eat some of it before my bodily defensive mechanisms set about their gruesome work. In a strange coincidence, a friend who lives in the area lost her pet cat, "Brisket", the previous night.


I was thinking the other day about how cool it would be if women had beards instead of men. Blokes just don't care about how they look, so every guy either shaves or grows a goatee or something. If girls had beards, we'd see a lot more creativity with facial hair. You'd get girls walking around with beards dyed all of the colours under the sun. They'd plait their beards, or grow the sides really long and brush them back over their ears. You'd see the latest beard ideas in women's magazines, and sophisticated barbershops (with snobbish clientele) would spring up in the chic areas of town. Actually, I'm glad women don't have beards.

Body Piercing

I reckon if you're lucky enough to have a big sticky-out mole on some weird part of your body, you should paint that mole silver and pretend that you're into body piercing. People would express amazement at how you managed to get that part of your body pierced, and they would admire your impressive looking stud.