Archive for the ‘How To’ Category

1. Your profile. BAM!

2. cryptic Status Updates That Look For Attention
“OMG Whoos callin u dude?”
“They know who they are, I’m not going to say anything”


3. See Who Your Biggest Stalker Is apps.
Firstly, none of these things work. Facebook isn’t a list of information that can be manipulated into any combination of teenage neo-faggot apps that deliver the news that the hottest chick in your Facebook Friends list has been secretly checking out your ugly ass photos taken from your mobile phone in your bathroom. It’s Not. Gunna. Happen.

If you think you have no chance on god’s earth with someone, thennnnn ya don’t. OK?

Secondly, if you’re a chick and you have heaps of photos of you flouncing about in undies/nude/duck face poses in your bathroom then you don’t don’t need an app to tell you who’s stalking you, you just need me: EVERY FUCKING DUDE IN YOUR FRIEND LIST. THEY ARE CHECKING OUT YOUR FINE ASS AND BANGING TITTIES. Don’t like it? TAKE DOWN THE SLUT PICS THEN.

4. Serial Likers and Serial Pokers.
Scotty AssassinMc thinks everything is shit and fuck everyone
Puppy Fart *likes this*

5. Saliva Dripping Sleeze Balls That Add Hot Chicks They Don’t Know.
Almost every one of my female mates are drop dead gorgeous. Some of them so much that they are models, which means they put up a lot of their modelling pics. Good for them, I reckon. But then each of the photos they post comes this under it, from people you have never seen or heard of before:

Tom Dickenharry: Helloooo!
Harry Muffdiver: Woah girl! SO HOT lol
Barry Dumbcunt: Man if I was only 50 years younger lol!
John Isreallysmall: Sexy sexy sexy. Wish u wer on my beach! LOL
Random Fuckwit: Hey are those metal earrings? I love metal! We shud cach up and talk metal (meaning I want to rape your ass)


Rule 1: Chicks don’t choose a suitor from Facebook Comments, nor does it turn them on
Rule 2: Chicks like to have sex with a) People they know, and b) PEOPLE WHO AREN’T OLD FAT SLEEZY GREASEBALLS

So look, take your hand off it, do some laps of a pool or find thrity by anything but walking to KFC, buy clothes from somewhere besides Target, get a personality and go out and talk to ACTUAL REAL WOMEN. You might get laid if you’re lucky.


1. You don’t have to listen to lame, pseudo intelligent, meaningless artwank lyrics.
Fuck yeah, I think I just coined the term “artwank”.

You guys know exactly what I mean too, don’t you. I love music like I love eating food, I don’t give a flying fuck about how it’s presented. It’s the act of absorbing it that feels so good.

I’m sick and tired of bands that concentrate on making songs with pretentious, sooky lyrics trying to come across deep and important. I don’t give a fuck about your inner anguish or interpretation of heroin addiction. I want to nod my head like it’s a bobble head on a Hummers dashboard in Afganistan. By the way, the next person I hear describing a band, or any art for that matter, as “important” I will swiftly reply to with Deadly Face Fist of Judah. Road safety and good nutrition is important, bands are not fucking important.

Rammstein have solved this problem with extreme ingenuity; they sing in German so I have no fucking clue what they’re on about anyway. Even if you are German, you still don’t understand them because Till Lindemann just sounds like a grizzly bear eating a chainsaw and you’re too busy putting the flames out on your girlfriend’s face because you were too close to the stage.

2. Your band doesn’t shoot flames out of their face and deploy fireworks at the crowd.
Like I need to expand on this. Flames. Out of their faces. Can your band do this?


3. Best name, ever.
I can’t think of anything that is better than having the words “stein” and “ram” in your name. Are they named after the act of forcibly cramming a huge mug of beer down your throat? Probably not, but who cares! I like to think they are. Even saying it makes me happy. LDLDLDLDLDLAAAHM SHTEEEEYYYN.

4. They can be ironic without trying to be.
Arty faggots love irony. It’s the unoriginal artist’s emergency imagination. The only time irony is cool in any artform and especially music, is when it’s not forced. What the fuck am I on about?

Stay with me.

I watched Rammstein live the other night. They came on stage for an hour, and in that hour they managed to shoot flames out of every place possible including their face, play drums using explosions, wheel a huge cauldron on stage wearing a chefs hat and apron smeared in blood then shot flames at it, shoot pyrotechnics at the crowd, then at themselves, induce nightmares in the mind of every sleeping child within a 50 kilometre radius, appease Satan, ride a giant penis around the stage shooting paper jizz all over the crowd…

and then bowed ever so politely to the crowd and in a nice little voice said “Danke shoen” then left.

That ass fucked my mind.

5. Pure, unadulterated entertainment.
Rammstein don’t just punch out their best tunes with amazing fidelity, you can feel the heat from the flame throwers, you can see the firworks and stage antics, you can smell burning fuel, and when a cloud of confetti begins to float toward the ground after being shot off stage… you can reach out and touch it. It is truly an immersion of the senses.

Tool came on stage directly after Rammstein finished and immediately disappointed me. Now, Tool and disappointment are not two things that often go together. I love Tool, as do millions upon millions of people across the globe. But what they did, I can experience by putting my iPod in my ears. In better quality sound, too.

Tool, like many other bands, go on stage and just sing their songs and then leave. You quickly get over the wow factor that your favourite band is right there in front of you, then it’s time to add more to your senses what the album you just bought already has. Many like to defend this behaviour, especially Tool, with “it’s all about the music, not the band.”

This is a cop out. Let me fucking tell you something.

It’s not about either, it’s about the fans. The people who buy your albums, who pay over-inflated ticket prices to see you live, who supply you with a huge income and opportunity to live out your dream lifestyle making and sharing music with others. We bought your fucking album and know what it sounds like, and now we’ve paid 10 times the price to come see you live. Make with the witty stories, theatrics and fireworks you fucking smug human dukebox because you’re being left behind by people who can’t even speak English.

6. Your band doesn’t shoot flames out of their face and deploy fireworks at the crowd.

7. Rammstein teaches bogans culture and how to speak German.
Now we all know how stupid bogans are. They are the people who have just discovered Facebook and change their status each day to something about fighting someone, people who think Kirk Cobain was a hero for blowing his head apart with a shot gun because he was a drug riddled emo, people who wear clothing that advertises cars like Ford, Holden and other cars that can’t turn a corner doing more than 30km/h.

People who think bourbon tastes good.

Rammstein has the benefit of appealing to bogans due to the lead singer’s voice sounding like a Tyrannosaurus Rex fucking a Harley Davidson. Thankfully, it suits the music they do perfectly which means smart people like you and me like it too. Bogans also have a curious need to make meaning out of every song’s lyrics  so they can make learned conversation over dinner at the pub. To do this with Rammstein means to sit for hours on Google Translate, systematically going through each line of each song and then deciphering it into something that makes sense. Here’s the funny bit though, hardly any of it does. Sucked in, bogans.

8. Federal Department for Media Harmful to Young Persons has banned their latest album.
In Germany you can show porn to kids, they allow women to grow hair anywhere on the body below their neck,  you can buy a beer in Mc Donalds, but Rammstein’s album is banned. This is fucking hardcore.

Other things that are dangerous to children include nuclear testing, knife fighting, heroin injections and pools filled with razorblades.

But your favourite band is probably on my grandmother’s iPod.

9. The guitarist’s name is Paul Landers.
His last name is really fucking Landers. That’s so fucking rockstar that it makes Freddie Mercury look gay, and Freddie Mercury IS gay.

10. This.

Facebook, love it or hate it, has become one of the most powerful social networking devices of our time. You don’t need to remember your friend’s birthdays, you just watch out for all the Hapie Birfdai wall posts and follow the flock (pretending you knew all along). Hi Mum xxx. You can catch up with the goss on people, find out where mates are, stalk your ex, even connect with your REAL friends.

But here’s a few things that make you look like a prime cut of fuckwit steak, so try to not do the following things on Facebook:

1. Start tribute fanpages for dead people.
Yeah this first one isn’t funny, why would you start a tribute fanpage on Facebook for a young person that has died in tragic circumstances? That’s like having their funeral at a nightclub full of drunks. What the hell were you expecting? The internet to stop what it’s doing and feel sorry for you?

The internet is not a reflection of the face people put on in the real world, it is the reflection of the rawness of the personality usually filtered by the part of the brain that avoids you getting punched in the face in a face to face situation. Perceived anonymity not only makes people braver than normal, it exposes how fucked up humans really can be. Don’t put anything that deserves complete and utter respect and reverence on Facebook and expect it to be. It simply will not.

2. Be a racist kitten squeezer.
If you have more than 3 friends on Facebook and join those “Fuck off we’re full” groups, chances are your 3+ friends aren’t all as stupidly narrow minded and downright socially retarded as you are. There’s even more chance that atleast one of them comes from a background different to yours. Even more chance that you regularly eat the food of the people you are being racist towards and are nice to their faces.

Come on, we’re all adults here, how many people with Southern Cross tattoos and FOWF stickers on their Holden Ute eat meat pies, dim sims, pizza, tacos and kebabs? I’ll tell you, every single one of them. Also, racist jerks, whoever you are complaining about taking “our jobs” does a job you wouldn’t do anyway, or are not qualified to do. So shut the fuck up.

3. Over-share your life with status updates.

Yeah, don’t.

4. Woe is me status.
No one gives a shit about your ailments. You sound like a wet rag that can’t handle life. “So Andso is sick of this sprained ankle”, “Bitch Tits is not feeling good, time to up the dosage”, “Whinge fucken whinge”, shut up. What are you looking for? Sympathybook? An iBandage? An eHug? Fucking sooks.

5. Farm animals.
There’s already enough horse shit on Facebook. Agriculture and computer technology don’t mix. YOU CAN’T FEED SHEEP INTERNETS, THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS VITAMIN TCP/IP ENRICHED CHICKEN FEED. YOU HAVE TO USE REAL HAY AND THERE’S NO WHERE TO PUT IT HERE. So stop trying to farm animals on Facebook, it’s cruel and probably illegal to turn animals into zeros and ones then make them live in Facebook.

6. Invite people to anything important.
If you send me an invite to your wedding on Facebook, I hope a rabid dog bites you on the balls. Fuck you.

7. Spam people not in your group.
Groups are for people who are interested in something you want to plug. Nightclub parties, whatever. So start a group up, watch the people who are interested roll in, and send them messages about upcoming events. Don’t send me personal messages about some boring event with DJ Blah playing deep funky sexy house step. I fucking hate your music and techno music isn’t sexy.

8. Become a fan of sex.
You’re not special. The human race is upwards of 6 billion because of sex, not because of a Facebook slut page. Of course you like sex, we’re designed to. Stop being a floozy.

9. Announce “inside” Facebook information.
Facebook has a blog for this, we don’t need your “expert opinion”. Stop joining “I WILL NOT PAY TO USE FACEBOOK. I NEED 1 MILLION PEOPLE TO JOIN ME” groups. Facebook subsides with joint partnerships and advertising schedules that generate millions of dollars. They don’t need your fucking money, idiot. Use your brain for just a tiny bit for god’s sake before clicking on things. Why are you being stupid? Stop it.

10. Continually post photos of how sexy you are.
Because you’re not.


Here are the tag stats for today and yesterday, who the hell looks for porn and sex on WordPress? I find this hilarious as they are the only tags that really get results. My other site, which I blog my overseas adventure travels on, uses highly focussed, high traffic SEO tags which do get me quite good results. Things such as “Killing Fields”, “Angkor Temples”, “Thailand Hotels” etc, these work well and get better with the age of the website (Google crawlers take the site’s age into account). But amazingly, AntiNerd has achieved over 80 hits per day consistently during weekdays and is less than two months old.

I attribute this to a few things. First the blog itself is like a cross between Seinfeld and Big Brother. It incorporates feelings, experiences, real human insights, comedy, emotion and has absolutely fuck-all themes. It’s about nothing more than whatever the hell I feel like writing about for the day. Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down, but it’s all real, all raw, and people like to see themselves in others. People can relate to some of my ups or downs, it’s good to see others feel or experience what you do.

Secondly I attribute Facebook and Tags. I don’t take tags seriously on AntiNerd, I put anything really but notice some terms pull traffic (pun intended). Facebook links help lots, when I update, I link it on Facebook and the majority of my traffic is attributed to it being linked by myself and other people on their profiles. Nice work Facebook.

Third on the traffic tip is ex-girlfriends, ex-boyfriends (not mine you idiots, although it’s OK to be gay, fight the power, ruby slippers and all that), and other obsessed people desperately trying to find some hidden meaning about them nestled within my posts. They tend to forget I have an upgraded premium hosted account where the statistics and traffic information is quite extensive. One person in particular visits at least once a day to either click “I hate you” on my poll, or scan for any details that may support the ultimate controversy they have concocted in their brain. This is my blog, it’s about me you fucking idiots, not you. Stop reading so much into it, go and buy Greame Base’s book The Eleventh Hour if you are that desperate to discover a secret mystery. By the way, it was 111 mice that ate all the food. Poor Horace the Elephant.

So, stats, checkout the tags: 


Referrer Views 4 3
Facebook Profile 1 1


Referrer Views
Friend’s Blog  15
My Facebook Profile 7
WordPress Dashboard 5
Facebook 5
Facebook 4 3
Friend’s WordPress 2
Friend’s Facebook Profile 1
Facebook Link 1
Facebook Link 1 1
Friend’s Facebook Profile 1

And my favourite for yesterday and today:

Search Views
speedos 1