Half A Giraffe

The comedy stylings of the pleasantly deranged

Tag Archives: comedy


Christmas Survivors: Brace Yourselves

Wednesday, 26 December 2012 by Ben Keenan

My name is Sergeant Commerce and I’m here to help.

You did it. You fucking did it. You survived. You dodged the probing questions about your “career” from seldom-seen relatives. You smiled at every gift and managed not let any of the arguments turn fatal.

Give yourself a pat on the back, and prepare to escape that frying pan.

Welcome to the fire. Welcome to the sales.

You have heartburn and a hangover. Boo-hoo. We all do. THEY all do. Who are they? They are the enemy. Even though you thought you’d already spent every last penny of available cash and credit in the run up to Christmas, you suddenly realise you have a few bob here and there. Your uncle slipped you a fifty. You got a bunch of book tokens. You have terrible, stupid gifts you can return. You tot up the disappointing amount, pocket it and brave the city. I’m going to help you get what you need. Strap in, buckle up and knuckle down. It’s shopping time.

 

1.  Body

Your body is weak, stuffed and smelly (unless you have the winter vomiting bug, in which case it is weak, hollow and smelly). You ate too many mince pies, drank too much gravy and quaffed far too much wine. You told yourself you’d take it easy, but you didn’t and now you have to live with that. St. Stephens’ Day – or Boxing Day – is important, it’ll define the rest of your ordeal for better or worse. First thing you gotta do is shake that bloated feeling. Starving yourself would be counter-productive, you get too weak for shopping centre shoving. You need to switch to an all-bacon diet. It’s rich, cheap, and a packed with protein. Drag your cold, broken body out of bed and eat as much as you can, and then some more.

Once you’ve taken care of your diet, you’re going to need to put that newfound source of hearty protein to work. Get a bunch of plastic shopping bags, fill them with water and use them as weights, lifting your arms out, holding them for as long as possible. This may feel unnecessarily tough, but you’ll be glad of those warmed-up guns come mosh-time.

 

2.  Mind

This is actually going to be pretty easy, I mean, it’s just shopping, right? Wrong. Shopping is what you do when you pick up milk, or an iPhone cover. This is the Annual Sale. Note the capital letters. That’s a proper noun, that is. An entity unto itself. You underestimate that entity at your own peril. This isn’t Spar, it’s Smaug, it’s Sauron. It’s got a cold, steely will that will grind you into pigfeed if you let it, but you’re not going to do that. You’re going to go in there and get what you want, which brings me to my main point when talking about the mind: research.

Maybe you want a shirt. Maybe BT2 have a shirt you like. Maybe River Island has a similar shirt you also like. Your pathetic corporeal form won’t be able to zig-zag from shop to shop, the wheezing would kill you. You’ll need to investigate every alternative to every purchase, or you’ll come home broke and practically empty-handed. You need a sales buddy. It’s important to choose wisely. If they can, they’ll stab you in the back – let’s face it, if you could you’d do the same to them. So you need to pick someone who could never want what you want. Someone a different size, shape, gender, colour and social class to yourself. This person is unlikely to be a friend of yours since ideally you’ll have nothing in common, but you also want someone with a smartphone so you can text one another photos of prospective purchases, and somebody you could trust not to literally rob you and leave you for dead. I suggest an awkward cousin, or perhaps a stupid co-worker. As in most alliances, it works best when the other person doesn’t realise how tantalisingly close you are to fucking them over completely.

Someone tall is a bonus.

You should assume the leadership position as early as you can. I recommend some back-handed compliments, and then shout down a couple of their ideas with as much conviction as you can muster. Once they are subdued, you need to split up and send them to the toughest spots. Brown Thomas, TK Maxx, Henry Street etc. Let them take the flak while you read your book in a nice spot on Dawson St.

 

3.  Spirit

This is perhaps the most important part of your onslaught. Anybody can shop, but it takes a really cold, vicious scumbag to make the most of the mayhem. My advice is to find a cruelty you excel at and lean into it. Just lean gently forward into it and see what else you can get yourself dirty with. It will all give you an edge. Maybe you swipe somebody’s shopping cart in Smyths. Could you steal a single mother’s taxi? Some dude buy the last copy of that game you wanted? Follow him to his car and mug him. Let the air out of people’s tyres. Break wind in a scrum. Make loud phonecalls disseminating false information about “unbefuckingleivable deals over in X”. Block toilets. Frighten children. Intimidate sales staff into accepting out-of-date coupons. This is war. There’s not right or wrong, only winning or losing, and I’m not here to help you lose.

 

Epilogue

If you follow my regimen, you’ll be at home, broke, sore and burned out, but you’ll have a mountain of stuff, and the sweet taste of victory on your chapped lips. Tastes good, right? Enjoy that iPad cover, your new socks, those t-shirts and that pair of shoes. You earned them, soldier.

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Posted in Staff Writer |

Christmas WILL kill you

Tuesday, 25 December 2012 by Gemma Creagh

When thinking of the Christmas season I just can’t help but picture being serenaded by fur-clad choirs; romantic ensemble movies where EVERYONE finds true love; attractive hipster models making Xmas jumpers look cool & sexy*; saccharinely sweet family films where a young child & their workaholic dad save xmas while learning valuable life lessons; of friends and families being reunited over glasses of wine, next to an open log fires. I start to feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

However this is never, EVER how the holidays turn out.

Ever.

Inevitably something always goes horribly wrong; often times numerous things go terribly badly – and every so often, anything bad that can possibly happen, does. So to accurately represent the bitter, angry tension of Christmas, here are some classic carols only a tad more… realistic.

 

“The weather outside is frightful

And this cake is so delightful,

I could go to the gym, although….

(Nah)

Let’s forgo, let’s forgo, let’s forgo!”

 

 

Personally, I don’t trust a person who doesn’t put on weight around the holidays, what with all those creamy desserts, beers, selection boxes, giant dinners with 4 different types of potatoes, Romantica and Baileys lying around. Also at this time of year, who has time to do any lifting (other than pints to mouth or/and shopping bags around town)?

 

 

 

“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer

Used to drunk dial his ex,

But she never answered Rudolph

Or replied to his sad texts”

 

Romantic films & Xmas TV specials, mixed with an over-consumption of alcohol and at least 10% of your friends getting engaged – well it all gets a bit nostalgic, doesn’t it? A lot of ‘What if’s or ‘If only’s, but trust me, the best present you can give yourself this year is leaving your mobile at home when going drinking.

 

 

“On the twelve pubs of Christmas

My true love gave (out) to me

‘bout three fist fights,

Two bags of chips,

And a pee I took, on the tree”

 

Who decided drinking at TWELVE PUBS in one night was a good idea? Perhaps this was a gimmick devised by stomach-pumping equipment salesmen? Or a Protestant conspiracy to combat overpopulation in Ireland? Either way, just remember to pace yourself and pre-buy your mum/partner/flat mate’s apology present to avoid having to go shopping with the worst hangover you’ll have all year.

 

 

 

“Dashing through the snow

Desperate shoppers all round town,

Into shops we go,

About to breakdown

 

Horns on Taxis blare,

Making people shout,

Oh how Xmas shopping

Stresses people out”

 

Eventually you get in so much debt that it doesn’t really matter anymore, right? But it’s not just the crippling bills that make the whole experience so traumatic; it’s the queues and the anxiety of people doing last-minute shopping. Every year I tell myself: “This year I’m going to buy everything online in November” but never fail, every year I end up in Henry Street on Christmas eve having a brawl with an elderly woman over who gets the last Lynx giftset.

 

Megan: “I’m saving up, so this is only the second dearest champagne”

 

“So this is Christmas
And what have I done?
Another year over,
I’m still living with my mum.

 

And yeah this is Christmas.

My friend Mark has a Jag.

While I’m down the dole queue,

Tanya’s a W.A.G.”

 

Did you hear about Megan? She’s back from Australia for Xmas and she has her own successful business. Yeah, well FUCK YOU MEGAN. I have just recently leveled up in W.O.W. and finished re-watching the entire Star Trek DS9 series. Life is all about priorities.

 

 

“O come, all ye relatives,

Loud and very pii-iissed,

O come ye,

O come ye

To my–y house.

 

Come drink my Baileys.

Knock over my la-a-amps!

 

O -verstay your welcome.

O -verstay your welcome!

OVERSTAY YOUR WELCOME.

Christ the Lord.”

 

 

Take three feuding siblings, add in an alcoholic Gran-aunt, a cousin with narcissistic personality disorder, mix with a pair of disapproving parents & some nieces and nephews outta their faces on sugar and you have yourself one unstable powder keg. Then just light the fuse by adding alcohol and step well back – possibly by emigrating to Australia.

 

 

Whatever your plans are for this Xmas, and however you plan on surviving them, have a great one from us here at Half a Giraffe. (Except for you, Megan – you can go fuck yourself).

 

 

*Does not apply to average-looking people over the age of 25,  as they tend to end up looking like sex offenders when donning them. For those who must don an Xmas jumper avoid those creepy thin-rimmed glasses, pencil-moustaches & trench coats. See Below.

 

 

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Posted in Featured, Staff Writer |

Enjoy Your VD (Valentines Day)

Monday, 7 February 2011 by Gemma Creagh

Valentines Day (VD) – a day of crap films and smug over-affectionate couples rubbing their love, literally, all up in your face.

Here at Half a Giraffe we have everything you need to be make it through on the lamest excuse for a holiday since Little Womens’ Christmas (why can’t female midgets celebrate December 25th with the rest of us?!) including maps to every off-license, a full range of life-sized rubber companions and a brand new mouthwash that makes champagne and chocolate taste like Dutch Gold and chips.

Preparation for VD:

1. Book tables-for-10 in every decent restaurant in town, under a fake name.

2. While in public, loudly and repeatedly talk about divorce/separation and the anxiety it causes in children.

3. Run a pirate radio station that plays only songs about breaking up.

4. Commission a scientist to create a super virus that kills roses.

5. Sneak into card shops and stick pictures of actual human hearts on all the cards.

Share VD with couples you know:

1. Send each partner a card from their ex, complete with rose and thong/banana hammock.

2. Get yourself arrested, get one party to collect you and get them to swear a blood oath of secrecy. Then ‘confide’ to their other half that you think they might be cheating.

3. Create two fake and attractive Facebook accounts. Use them to leave a message on each of the couple’s wall thanking them for a great night.

4. Pretend you’ve met someone and are head over heels in love. Then on the day itself, tell the couple that your fictitious partner has broken up with you for all the faults your friends’ possess.

5. Replace and rewrap intended presents with S & M sextoys.

Make the most of your VD:

1.  Spend your time doing something useful, such as arranging and cataloguing old toe-nails.

2. Stand outside the dimly-lit romantic restaurants and eat chocolate out of a diaper alá Jackass.

3. Eat Indian Food, beans, cheese and any other flatulence-inducing foods, then sit in front of lovestruck couples in the cinema, and drop S.B.V. bombs. Give it a minute, and while they’re gagging – move away in disgust. Repeat.

4. Wait in popular public areas for loving couples to propose. While’s he’s down on one knee – shout loudly: ‘Sandra/Tony….. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO’. You can pretend it was a case of mistaken identity, which both absolves you AND ruins their special moment.

5. Babysit your ’tweens neighbour, and take them out for the evening, all the while subtly pretending to the other bowlers/cimema-goers/diners like your on a date. Lets see them gaze lovingly into each others eyes while you’re holding the door for a twelve-year-old.

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Posted in Featured, Staff Writer |

Porn Soundtrack

Tuesday, 1 June 2010 by Ben Keenan

As a bonus feature for the Reaction Video sketch, heres the porn soundtrack in all its glory.

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Posted in Sketch, Video |