bedlam updates

http://pissandvinegar.libsyn.com/episode-017-spit-polished

Thanks to 70's women's magazine feminism Mother realised she didn't need to ruin my childhood in person and using an airplane as her getaway vehicle, left the burden to Father, who did the work of two parents in this regard, terrorising us like a true penal colony prison guard. The despair continued  until I answered back one extra black day, inspiring him to deliver a character assassination speech that destroyed what was probably my soul. He then kicked me out of the house and offered me cutlery. I declined as I didn't feel deserving of knives and forks for some reason. Life on the Outside consisted of drinking heavily to mask my phobia about communicating using just my personality, as Father's many long speeches had me believing I was an unsightly coldsore full of lies about not being a pus bubble. I also drank because I'm a people person who loves taking a short break from sparkling conversation to go vomit in a piss-spattered cubicle. And people wonder wh

Open Mic Life podcast with Sean Bedlam

http://pissandvinegar.libsyn.com/episode-016-taxi-cab-confessions

I watched Argo, Lincoln and Zero Dark Thirty, all movies about how being an American is a leading cause of anorexia, marriage separation and being shot because you only fought against slavery in a fictional capacity. The hair product lady in Zero Dark Thirty signified her humanity by drinking, eating and shouting at a man in a suit, the suit of course symbolised old people who don't get what it's like to be young and living in the shadow of so many fast food choices. The suit guy I think played exactly the same guy in Argo which shows just how amazing is the spycraft of those CIA guys. I'm not sure though because these movies made me drunk on eagle cum. The modern director knows you can't just fill the screen with flag so it's best to subtly sneak it into every shot. Also, if possible be a female director because that'll Pretend Confuse all the New York Times types who are trying not to notice this is a children's movie. This goes for all three movies be

Growing up when school teachers felt strongly supported in their beatings of children was a perfect opportunity to sample the beating styles of various schools, so I would beg my parents to move me from school to school, which they did, many times, often just long enough for me to experience a beating then move on. The approach was surprisingly uniform but waiting with hands out to be struck across the palms with thick leather never got boring and continued right up until the last moment it was still legal. Which was the International Year of the Child, a delicious detail that tastes like my own boiling blood. Beating kids with leather, talk about hot sex! They say a society is measured by how it treats Sean Bedlam and I tend to agree and to suggest I will kill you all one glorious day is to comically understate the depth of my sense of betrayal by a system of education designed by Hitler's missing testicle and supported by the just and kind everywhere. My father's indoctri

Upon reading an article in the Age about underpaid hospitality workers I felt the irresistible urge to also read The Comments, so how I feel right now is very much my fault. As anyone unfortunate enough to have access to the internet knows, The Comments is where happiness goes to die horribly in a hail of informational AIDS bullets. The information stumbled across in this rich jungle of cuntiness is often wrong, which is actually fine, but hideously the information is very often cooked up in the heart of some embittered fuck who's been broken and remade by the machine into the embittered fuck I mentioned earlier. This article about workers in places where meals are tabled and drinks are poured by underpaid workers attracted the ire of a recent immigrant to Australia who seems to have adopted the worst aspects of being an Aussie, which is a shame because if he wasn't so recently here he'd realize these aren't even the worst aspects of Australianess, if Australianess is

I used to read self help books but now I listen to the most brutal metal I can find and let my creative juices flow out of my fingers and onto the floor, pooling around my feet like the blood of my enemies, of which there are many and imaginary. I don't know, do I have enemies? I certainly think I hate some people. Hi, I'm Sean Bedlam. Let's, shall we?   I had a terrible thought a little while ago. Here we go! It was, "I don't really hate people as much as I think I do." It was a scary moment but then I sensed a presence and somehow knew I actually needed a poo and that would make it all better. Also, the other night in Sydney Chinatown I did wee and the girl before me had hovered over the seat, splashing it with her lady tinkle. If I was wacky as I make out to be I would have licked that up and written about it for Vice magazine. Anyway, I'm in a strong relationship.     People like to talk about 'love' and when I say 'people' I'm

When I was growing up not only did my family explode like the Space Shuttle raining burning abandonment on children young enough to be surprised and delighted by dinosaurs, but my parents were raised in the Catholic Church, which I think is sort of like a bank where slaves store their unused hope. How did I survive intact? I didn't you big funny faces! So let's comedy! What a fucked decision. Choosing to sleep on the couch near the monstrously loud portable air conditioner seemed ideal last night but instead demons ate me. I woke at 4am. Oh shit. This means. But I was slow on the draw and before I could open my nighty-night-time friendly reading book to BLOCK OUT THE THOUGHTS, they were upon me chewing my soul 40 times like it was yuppy fuckhead New York Times super food.   I lay there helpless as steaming nonsense spewed into my mind, so bitterly poorly organised it can only have been put there by the Pope or someone in advertising. I tried reasoning with my own brain whic

http://www.pissandvinegar.libsyn.com/ Ryan Walker and myself have so far made 15 brilliant and amazing episodes of a podcast called Piss and Vinegar. We don't have guests unless you include the people we talk about only to hate. It really is just two extremely talented and driven guys talking crap, much of it quite deliberately offensive and/or stupid. But in a brilliant and impressively talented and very talented way. When we embarked on this journey- and it is a trip on a boat- our only motivation was the driving need to not be the only two comics in Melbourne not doing a podcast. I'm sure more established local podcasters welcome our much needed injection of talent and amazingness to help them lift their game! Not that I listen to any of them because after absorbing 450 episodes of Marc Maron's WTF cast I'm completely burned out on podcasts and if I never hear another comic talk about near or at comedy again I will die a happy miserable bastard. It's hard t

When the team here at Gross Habit gave birth to this blog we couldn't decide whether to eat the placenta or just rub it all over our bodies. Tricked you! There's only one of me. I've started this blog because I need to develop a close personal relationship with my audience, who are often quite negative folk but fortunately all people with bad attitudes are geniuses. Phew! I have a small audience and they're all capable of amazing things. Some of them have been known to use the internet as a time wasting device!     When a man pisses in the reverse cowgirl position he knows he's home. I work from home, which I don't recommend unless you're going to make a point of leaving the house occasionally to stop your social skills from drying up and shrivelling into a dried seahorse. I've been having a crack at stand up comedy like a total manfighter for a couple of years and let me tell you, it's a bad idea to hit the stage expecting to drop knowledge bombs