After Grog Blog

Keep Mum!

Via The Australian comes news from the New York Times that would make Malcolm Knox lick his chops.

Serena William's mum, Oracene Price, is upset the Aussie crowd booed Serena in the semi-final against Kim Clijsters. She felt that as well as a desire to see the under-dog get up, "there was also a racial component at work".

She doesn't have any proof mind you. She just interpreted it that way. In much the same way I can interpret that she believes she knows what she's talking about just because she's black.

It doesn't bother her that with racism being a hot topic du jour she should be armed with some facts before playing the race card. Nope. In the sad tradition of sports parents she just shot from the lip. (I prefer the slap-stick routines of Damir Dokic)

Of course she didn't bother to acknowledge that Aussie tennis crowds are notoriously critical when it comes to gamesmanship. Crowds here ALWAYS boo players who take time-outs at crucial moments. Those funk soul brothers, John McEnroe & Jimmy Conners have both been booed here for not playing within the spirit of the game. Last time I looked; they were white. Although in this Age of Jackson that may have changed.

Nor did she concede that Clijsters may be a favourite here because she goes out with our very own, true blue Lil Lleyton Hewitt.

Strangely though, there there were no boos during the final. According to Oracene's thoroughly researched conclusions; with both Williams girls playing there should have been twice as many.

Accent on the Obvious!

Rather surprised to read this Startling Observation from Christopher Clarey in the N.Y.Times....

"Start practicing up, Steffi!" the fan shouted in a broad Australian accent.

Brord Strine aksent? Hoir? Nev-ah!

Posted by Tiny Tyler.

Welcome To The Club Slatts

The After Grog Bloggers Club, that is. Prof Bunny's a Member too.

Anyhoo, Slatts Isn't Feeling Well. C'mon man! Buck up! You can't just loll around all day moaning about your head. Snap out of it! This morning I was up with the Larks for a brisk trot around Lake Burley Superior. After 300 push-downs I cooked a breakfast fit for a particularly well fed middle eastern potentate. Sawdust toast & monkey paste, purple coffee, francis bacon, green eggs and ham. After that I read (In Latin) the twenty five verses of Deuteronomy that refer to cricket's No-Ball rule. Loosely translated "Thou shalt not thy arm bendeth". Then I woke up.

It was only a fuckin' dream! Ack! Head hurt bad!

What I REALLY did was take three Nurofen and swig a mouth full of cordial. I subsequently spat it out when I realised it was diet stuff. I said fuck. I got the papers off the balcony, good arm on that kid. I still said fuck. After that I went back to bed and fell asleep watching a video of the Melbourne/Brisbane game from the Gabba.

Now I'm After Grog Blogging. I think. I'd better check....

"Mirror? Yes Tony. So it IS me?!? Well your eyes are a bit redder than usual but, yes, it's you.

Good. I'm me.

On to less serious matters.

Where the hell am I going with this? Ohh. That's right. Last night.

YES. Last night I caught up with Bernie Slattery and Alan Anderson at the Royal. Ando and I drank beers while Slatts set a mean pace with the local Vin Rouge Tres Ordinaire, a Grange Pentridge 2002 I believe. No eating this time. Eatin's Cheatin'. Never the less, a good time was had by all. I went home in a taxi again. Responsible me.

Not sure about Slatt's assessment of Mick the Mechanic as; one of the nicest fellows I've met in months. That right-wing, violent, blood-sucker labelling is Mick's idea of small-talk. You ought to see him when he's channelling Chumpsky, selectively quoting John Pilger's latest Minimum Opus and regaling us with the dubious virtues of Eating For Columbine.

At least the three of us were able to tag-team. I'm sure we'll do it again before long.

Cheers lads. Bottoms up! Now. Where's that beer?

No Conflict Of Interest Here

Seems Alan Anderson's placed a couple of Tabbys Among the Flying Rats.

Disagreeing with Ando's very sensible proposition are....

Internet soccer hooligan and Brett Lee devotee, Adam from Thomastown.

and

Perth student and friend of the Aristocracy Parker. Look! Here's Parker and squeeze at a Bayview Terrace Fancy Dress Party....

Unfortunately they'd forgotten their costumes.

Anyway, in keeping with the long tradition of reasoned debate at the After Grog Blog. Ando's right. You guys are talking rubbish!

And a Perth resident called Stew from Liverpool (Must be a Shop Steward at West Rail) can't tell the difference between the fatuous under-grad utterings of international celebrities and someone offering up an opinion in the privacy of his own Blog.

Now! On a completely and totally unrelated matter, I'm off to the pub for a couple of cleansing beakers with Alan, errr,  Algernon and Bernie, ahhh,  Barrington.

LOVE ALL

After Wednesdays night's Swat-a-Thon between Andy Roddick and Younes el Aynaoui Jake Niall went in search of some Hard Hitting Expert Opinion.

John Alexander....

"It was a match that transcended tennis and was special to anyone and everyone who had the good fortune to see it . . . Younes was as much a winner as Andy."

Thankfully John McEnroe's injected a dose of reality into Seven's Summer of Love Tennis.

However, joining the Love In was Drug Courier....

"The first, most obvious story in this one is Roddick flowering before your eyes . . . It was just a privilege and a pleasure to watch it. These are the kind of matches that keep me in love with tennis."

I think he's still playing on grass.

Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys!

I love that phrase. It's so, well, French. Yes that's it. Who invented it? Was it YOU? How 'bout YOU? Doesn't matter. Love your work guys.

Apropos the upcoming disciplinary action in the Middle East, Greg Sheridan today administered some much needed disciplinary action to a couple of Recidivist Troublemakers.

First, The New York Times for their dishonesty over Kissinger and Pre-Emption....

As he has repeatedly made clear, he is angry with The New York Times for misrepresenting a column he wrote about pre-emption as opposition to the Bush action.... ....Part of the problem with the debate in Australia is the prominence of reprinted material from the increasingly unreliable New York Times and the wholly derivative nature of the Australian Left in foreign affairs.

If I hear another pinhead say to me; "Well I read in the New York Times blah, snuffle, glomp, custard...." I might have to administer some disciplinary action of my own.

Second, our very own left-wing conservatives and their standard hypocrisy....

The ALP's argument that our modest likely military contribution to this most important work leaves us under-strength for military contingencies in the region is dishonest and facile.

It may sound like some National Union of Students press release, but never under-estimate the ALP's talent for being "dishonest and facile". There'll be plenty more over the next couple of years as they pull every cheap and nasty populist stunt out of the Graham Richardson handbook on political pragmatism. Expect them to heavily criticise things they themselves would do. It's been happening very effectively all round the states. Don't expect anything different out of Canberra.

And it can bite!

I've said it before and I'll say it again; Be Very Careful Mr Howard!

Jimmy's Lock of the Day

During the Tennessee Titans versus Oakland Raiders game the other day I was reminded of when Homer got Lisa to pick which teams to bet on....

"Pick the Raiders Dad. They cheat."

It's true. They Do! This from The Age....

The high powered Raiders survived 14 penalties for 127 yards....

Clever little girl.

DAFFY DONALD

"I'm dedicating this World Cup to Hansie."

"What he did for this team will never be forgotten by the players."

I Have A Dog Y'Know

If you've accidentally happened by this 'ere Blog I hope you'll pass onto this 'ere Blog.

BOYNTON'S a regular reader of the AGB, (but not user of capital letters) and doesn't want it to be known that she may, on the very odd occasion, associate with evil right wingers.

Ahh well, she has a sick friend called Doug and it'd be mighty fine if you popped in to say nice things in one of the Comments Boxes.

Get well soon Doug.

I'm Sorry. I'll Ask That Again.

Nothing important to do tonight. Apart from cooking dinner and drinking beer. Never the less I decided to finally attempt some Extreme Sports and pay my super-duper, hooley dooley, whiz-bang, steak-knives-included, half price Fox-Footy Advance Pass for the year 2003 in the Christian Era. Possibly heaps longer on the Jewish calendar and I suspect heaps less on the Muslim one. After all, they're a bunch of Yousef-Cum-Latelys....

GET ON WITH IT DICKHEAD!

OK. Where was I? That’s right. While I was tooling through the process on the Fox Internet site I realised I needed to enter a PIN number. Well, I've had Foxtel for yonks now, and the Footy Channel since it started. However, it turns out I hadn’t realised I needed a PIN number.

Seems that because I've had the account since before Bert Newton discovered the Model-T Ford I predated PIN numbers. So, in the best traditions of Public Service style managerial fluency I got straight on the Doganbone and phoned the Fox Hot Line. (131999 if you feel like killing an hour or so). After the preliminaries, which were substantially longer than the main bout, I got through to my Entertainment Consultant. Lest you think that this is some kind of pathetic Hugh McKay style I’d-Rather-Talk-To-A-Person riff I'm not going there.

I’m going HERE! Fox Frank eventually lobbed onto the other end....

Frank - "Hello, Frank speaking. How may I help you?"

Tony - "G'day Frank. I've just been renewing my Fox Footy subscription, but apparently I need a PIN number and I've never had one."

Frank - "Oh, that's OK sir, you've probably had one since before Islam was invented. [Hmmm, did I hear that right?] So you want to sign up for the new Fox Footy Advance Package?

Tony - "Yes thanks Frank."

Frank - "Hokey Dokey. What's your PIN number?"

Workin’ beautifully Frank. Ears good work.

EXPUNGEMENT RECOMMENDED

Lou Rowan thinks Ron Reed is a Pinhead. You remember Ron Reed? He's a Self Confessed Idiot. Here's a picture:

Oh, him. Yes, dim him. Let's recap:

What can be said for certain is that Murali is entitled to be fed up at the constant taunts about his controversial bowling action.

The treatment of Murali has an altogether darker edge to it.

[His action] has been deemed acceptable.

Even if there were no restrictions on how the ball was delivered.

Driving him out of the game - or out of Australia - is not in anyone's interest.

However, Lou Rowan isn't a brain dead pseudo-pundit, he was a highly credentialled Test Umpire. According to Rowan:

The spinner's name should be expunged from cricket's record books.

Rowan, who umpired 26 Tests in the 1960s and 1970s, claimed he had spoken to four other former Test umpires recently who agreed Muralitharan's action did not conform with cricket's throwing law.

"It is not based on racism. There is a deep-seated, but not publicly expressed resentment over the bowling action of the Sri Lankan, Muralitharan"

"The actions of cricket authorities in permitting and encouraging this man to continue in cricket is incomprehensible and a travesty of justice."

I disagree with his comment that there's no "publicly expressed resentment". There's plenty of that. Unfortunately there's no "officially expressed resentment". Those gutless appeaseniks at the ICC should join the It's-About-Oil appeaseniks as shrapnel sponges in Bagdad.

Hoges. Kylie. Nicole. Imre?

You know you're really famous when people start referring to you by your first name only. This was in today's Crikey Sealed....

3. MORE DODGY GONGS The gong committee is really starting to leak like a sieve to Crikey. Keep it up folks. If you think the Ron Walker gong is bad? Talk is that the Prime Miniature's former flatmate and serial breacher of the Ministerial Code of Conduct, Warwick Parer, is in line for one next Monday, too. And can you believe that none other than PP McGuiness has scored an AO. What next, gongs for other conservative pro-Howard columnists such as Piers Akerman, Andrew Bolt, Miranda Devine, Tim Blair, Imre and Christopher Pearson? Why not one for his biographer David Barnett too? And which of the seven High Court judges would you tip to get a gong? It's easy - Justice Ian "Capital C" Callinan, the most conservative and pro-Howard member of the bench. And the chicken murderers, brothers Ingham, are surely the first family members to collect AOs on the same day. It is Ironic that Australia's obsession with gambling - yes, we lose more per head than any other country - extends to gonging prominent blood stock owners such as the Inghams. Keep them coming in folks. We'd love to get up a comprehensive critique of the whole system and examples of more dodgy gongs over the years such as Brian Quinn and Alan Bond.

Personally, I suspect they can't spell Salazar Sauzinky Sala, err. Bugger it! You know who I mean.

By the way, what's Crikey got against the Inghams? I flat out refuse to eat vegetarian Parmagianas!

OCTOMISSY

This is eight-times married Miss Lewis....

This is Octomissy's big brother....

Hey Killer! Van Morrison messed with your sister. Whatcha gonna do 'bout it?

REED IT AND WEEP

In Saturday's Herald Sun Ron Reed wrote a preachy bizarreticle on the treatment of Muttiah Muralidaran by the Gabba crowd.

There's no link, but trust me, you don't want to see it in full. Remember Monty Python's Deadly Joke? "One writer saw two lines and was hospitalised for three months." Well, I'll try to make it less painful by chopping it into reader friendly chunkettes:

The crowd's treatment of Sri Lanka's champion spin bowler Muttiah Muralidaran was just as worthy of a charge of bringing the game into disrepute. However, the authorities have not yet found a way to lay charges against crowds for that. For being drunk and disorderly, yes. For exceeding the bounds of what's fair and reasonable in barracking, no.

We are fortunate indeed to have taste-meisters like Reed to inform us about what's "fair and reasonable".

What Murali was copping was not barracking but abuse - and, not surprisingly, he's had enough of it. He is now threatening never to return.

What about David Beckham? You don't hear him saying he'll never go back to Liverpool. You don't hear Eddie McGuire say he'll never go back to Foopbrawl Park.

Sri Lanka is due here for a Test Series as early as October, and wouldn't be happy doing so without the bowler described by Wisden as the best in history.

Bowler in the sense Roger Clemens is a bowler.

What can be said for certain is that Murali is entitled to be fed up at the constant taunts about his controversial bowling action, especially the tone of them.

Aussie supporters seem to be the only people with the guts to call Murali a chucker. If the ICC did their job properly, Murali wouldn't be playing and it wouldn't need the Aussie crowds to draw it to the attention of a piss weak committee desperate to placate the subcontinental nations. Darren Lehmann anyone? Is that scapegoat I smell?

Australia's Brett Lee, was baited about his action, which is also suspect at times, by England's Barmy Army during the MCG. But, for the most part, that may be described, if we may, as "taking the piss". It wasn't meant to be objectionable, and even Lee saw the funny side.

Barmy Army � Good. Aussie Yobs � Bad. "For the most part."

The treatment of Murali has an altogether darker edge to it�

Spell it out Ron. R-A-C-I-S-T-S.

which is doubly unfortunate given that he was not only the best player in the match, but the bravest. It was an admirable effort to return after badly injuring his leg and bowl his final two overs off two steps and in pain.

Best. Bravest. Admirable. Pain. No Ball.

[His action] has been deemed acceptable and it is up to the world's best batsmen to work out how to play him and for the crowds to appreciate the tremendous skill involved. That part sometimes gets overlooked.

Not overlooked, ignored. Ignored because the debate is about an illegal action that gives him a huge advantage. It's not about the skill of batsmen who are playing within the rules. As for it being "deemed acceptable", well, I'm on the record THERE.

Even if there were no restrictions on how the ball was delivered, how many other off-spinners could chuck deliberately and obtain Murali's turn, flight, variation and bounce.

Plenty! However, Murali does have a head start because he's been practicing spin chucking for a lot longer.

He's also an articulate and likeable bloke, certainly not anything remotely resembling a cynical manipulator of the rules.

No that's Arjuna Ranatunga's job. Or anyone involved in world cricket that wants Sri Lanka to be successful - because they wouldn't be without Murali. Just keep smiling, Murali. I'm pretty sure Jack Dyer would smile beatifically while administering his patented dental plan. Saddam Hussain's ALWAYS smiling. Roy Keane's been known to grin occasionally.

Driving him out of the game - or out of Australia - is not in anyone's interest.

Yes it is. Future generations who�ll ask, "Dad, why is there an asterisk next to that bowler's name?". It's not because he changed the spelling every couple of years.

FIRE

Unfortunately there's always some LOW THING out there ready to give the human race a bad name. Even if they're only impersonating humans.

Tex and Caz, hope it's all going OK up there.

Via the MTOB's and Sauce

Retraction

A while back I wrote THIS ....

”If there's a more boring scribe in Sunburnia than the Australian's Simple Error then I'm Terry Lane!

Today I received the following letter from a Sydney reader….

To the editor of the After Grog Blog

Dear Sir,

I write to protest your assertion that my good friend Errol Simper is "The most boring scribe in Sunburnia". I know this cannot be true because the most boring scribe in Sunburnia is ME. To support my claim I present for you some examples of my exceedingly dull work....

1) On December 28 I wrote this pathetic drone about Cooking. In case you hadn’t noticed it was actually a criticism of John Howard. [Ed: Thanks Hugh, I had]

2) On January 4 I wrote this nauseating suck piece about How Clever My Kids Are.

3) On January 11 I wrote this awful dirge about the Magic of Moving House.

4) Yesterday I penned this weird parody involving Naughty Children and Weapons of Mass Destruction.

That incontrovertible body of evidence should prove conclusively that I have nothing at all to say and, as such, am the most boring writer in Australia.

I therefore require from you a full and sincere apology for your rash allegation or I shall be forced to consult my legal representatives at the firm Bung, Grabbit & Sue.

Yours sincerely
H. McKay
Dullard

Apology cheerfully tendered.

Just a word of advice Hugh. Resign and start a Blog instead!

Update Update

As the regular reader may have noticed the After Grog Blog has undergone some cosmetic re-alignment. On the other hand, if you haven't noticed you may need to consult a physician. "Hi everybody!"

Overall, this transition has proved a reasonably straightforward process (See Below). However, some questions have arisen during the commissioning phase prior to acceptance of a Certificate of Practical Completion.

First comes a comment from trailer park resident Steve.H in Broward County, Florida, USA....

"I thought my browser was on the fritz."

I'm not sure what a fritz is Steve, but it sounds painful. Get well soon Browser. May I suggest a trip to the nearest veterinary surgeon. I received this one, surprisingly also from someone called Steve.H in Florida. This Steve being the Baby-Faced Giant-Biscuit Eater of Monroe County....

"Was this blog orange a minute ago, or am I just having one of my spells?"

Hmmm, could be one of your spells Steve. I suggest you stop eating raw Alligator testicles. From right here in Melbourne comes this comment from political identity Adam of Thomastown....

"Channelling the spirit of a certain Mr. Blair?"

Alas no Adam. I've never been an adherent to the nebulous politics of the Third Way. A resident in our nation's capital, a Bono stalker who enjoys bleating for Keating, Caz.M.Atic, wrote in....

"Tommy Hilfiger is going to sue your arse."

Tommy Hilfiger? I had to look that one up. With arses in mind, I thought he might be that door to door saleman who tried to sell me a membership to NAMBLA but it turned out he only made red, white & blue clothes. Phew!

Anyhoo, here's the deal. Best summed up by an Email I received from a Melbourne reader (I might add, a Secret Blogger too) and playwright taking time out from her latest treatment of Ibsen....

I saw your template-in-prog earlier. Just checked in then. Go Demons! Looks good!

Yep! My redesign was inspired by two things....

1) This template can handle much larger posts than the last. You can already see that by this extra large serving of drivel.

2) A simple desire to salute the football club I follow.

Go Demons indeed.

Important Announcement

Today the After Grog Blog received the following notification from Webster's Concise Oxford Pocket Book of Words, Letters and Very Small Pictures....

ATTENTION BLOGOSPHERE

As outlined in our Mission Statement, it is the policy here at Wox to continually update our products to keep abreast of changing trends in Blogosphere related whatsits.

It is therefore with some pride that we are able to immediately release for public consumption the following addition to our Lexithingo.

Trialanerror - Adjectiverb, the process of changing one's Blog.

Thank you.
Lazarus.Q.Porkytoes
Chief Of Words

Hope that clears things up.

RULES IS RULES

I went for my driving license in January 1980.

First I was given a book of road rules and told to learn them. "Here. Book. Read." I then had to pass a written test based on those rules.

Subsequent to that I needed to pass a practical test called the Ordeal By Hangover in which I was to demonstrate my appalling lack of skills to a very large policeman at the Karratha RTA office.

If I pulled enough wool over the policeman's eyes and somehow passed the test I was then granted a Provisional License wherein I was permitted to become a potential traffic hazard on the Western Australian roads.

Personal driving abilities aside, I knew I'd been granted that piece of paper under the proviso that I be a responsible, law-abiding driver.

What it didn't mean was that I could now go out and get shit-faced on forty beers, jump in my car, drive at 150kph down the wrong side of the road, brandish a bottle of vodka in one hand and a Camberwell Carrot in the other, and steering with my knees, gleefully run down badly dressed pedestrians carrying babies.

During the ensuing 20 some years I've been fined for speeding, running red lights and once lost my license for drink driving. Each time I was pinged I wore it because I knew I'd done wrong.

What I didn't do was tell the local judiciary that it was impossible for me to break the rules because I suffered from that rare genetic condition known as a Double Helix with Half Pike and Twist, then call the cops racist pigs intent on depriving me of my right to operate an automobile.

There's a point here somewhere, oh yeah, first you learn the rules, then you apply the rules. If you don't wanna play by the rules, there'll be trouble!

I'm lookin' at YOU! Don't come back!

BLOG ALERT!

There’s a new blog from right here in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, Frank Sinatra, the World. It’s called Australian Tory. Hmmm, sounds like it's dedicated to Spite Latham.

I was actually a bit surprised when I saw Ben’s header, which reads….

Politics, Cricket and the Christian Religion, inter alia, live from Melbourne

Politics? Yep, right with you there Ben. Cricket? Say no more! Best game ever invented. What’s more, it’s fun to tease American visitors to Ozbloggia with references to the great game. I’ve got a hunch though, that Yanks secretly luurrve cricket.

But Christian Religion? Holy Hell! Oops! What would bring a pious person to the After Grog Blog? I suppose I’ll have to watch my language now. This is not good. I work best when I work blue.

When it comes to matters theological I’ve always stuck to that timeless conservative maxim, best espoused by the Chinese guy doing jury service with Arthur Daly….

Wise man say; ”When in Rome, do not be a Christian”.

So, having demonstrated my non-sectarian batting stance, there’ll be no future mentions of Jesus reading 10 short stories at Ceders Sinai. No mention of him feeding large crowds with holy gruel. No mention of him walking on wine. No mention of him being bored to death by Jewish comedians. ”Oy! Tough room.” And no mention of him rising late on the third day because he’d drunk to much Bithynian Grange Hermitage at the Last Supper. ’23 was a particularly fine year for Reds.

However, I would like to know if the second K in Habakkuk is silent and whether Inter Alia is really what it sounds like, a dairy free brand of diet margarine.

So welcome to the Blogosphere Ben. Get well soon. Don’t work too hard. I’ll be thinking of you as I sit here in my holiday romper room, drinking Excellent Beer and listening to Fine Music.

Electric Prunes In My Sleep

This is weird! Last night I had too much to dream about another blogger.

Now stop right there y’all!

It wasn’t anything that would make Jimmy Stewart dread hanging from a drainpipe. There were, however, the occasional half-remembered references to abseiling down Sydney’s Centre-Point Tower, drunken nail polish application sessions and Pia Zadora helping Santa Claus conquer the Martians. Ok, so the first one really is a dream.

That might seem pretty odd, but sure as they harvest cheese from the Sea Of Tranquillity, it makes a refreshing, and less threatening, change from my standard dream involving capes, crosses and Christopher Lee.

Never the less, I was somewhat surprised to experience a dream where Spleeny Andrea chased me around Florida in the Batmobile.

Up to now my most memorable experience of Florida was a bus driver who persisted in calling Ocala, Cla and St Petersburg S'peet. This in turn meant that when I asked the girl sitting next to me the perfectly respectable question, "How long to Orlando?" I was met with the hieroglyphic response; "WHERE? Lanno? You ain frm rown ear."

Errr, no.

Anyhoo, when I awoke I spent two hours cowering in bed hoping that I'd only just envisioned a commercial for expensive soap.

Shut me up! Time for beer.

T.T.Teacher - Sandgroper Update

In an Earlier Post here at the A.G.Blog, The Yobbo asked This Question....

How did you know I am from the Upper Great Southern? Suddenly I am very afraid.

In a words Yobbo, I didn't. So don't be afraid. I just picked a league that I'd played footy in. So employing the most subtle segue since Sid James threw "You're really packin 'em in there darling" to Babs Windsor, here's an exciting excerpt from an article (Right next to the price of Lucerne) written back in 19 hundred and something. It's from that internationally famous organ of high journalism, The Narrogin Observer....

Taylor Kicks 12 In An Exciting Match

In a tough encounter at the Clayton Road Oval last Sunday, Towns beat Wagin by five points in an exciting match that hung in the balance until the dying minutes of the game.

Although Town's Tony Taylor kicked 12 goals for the match, his goal kicking spree was an indication of his immense talent as a full forward rather than his team's overall superiority.

I like that last sentence.

Also of coincidence is the fact that Yobbo Studied to be an Electronic Engineer. How about that? So did I.

However, this particular Yobbo seems far smarter than your common and garden brand of Bundy & Coke drinking, Mexican Waving, Aussie Aussie Aussie chanting slack-jawed simpletons. Why? He quit, or course!

After one mind-numbingly boring semester of studying electronic engineering, I landed a job as junior sales assistant in a retail franchise.

Yep. For me all that assiduous study of High-pass Filters, Schotky Diodes and Extra Low Frequency transmission systems conclusively proved one thing and one thing only. It really is possible to waste three years of your life!

Conclusion? Yobbo Smart. Teacher Stupid.

Anonymous Tie Dyer

This is Florida resident Steve.H. Here he maintains anonymity on the Internet by posting a picture of himself.

This roadside photo of him hiding from state troopers was taken by ex girlfriend and role model, Aileen Wournos.

FAULT!

When asked on radio station 3AW (In a sports show?!?) whether the US should invade Iraq, US tennis journo Bud Collins replied....

"Nope. It's all about Oil."

Thus committing yet another unforced error in the Iraq debate.

Good Riddance!

I can almost hear Bob Carr boom it out as I type, and I'm in another state, so he must really be happy.

Seems another Union is threatening to quit the Labor Party. This time it's the AWU threatening to part from the NSW branch of the ALP.

My only surprise is that it gets written up as a story. It’s been happening in Victoria for years and it’s going to continue to happen all over the country as Labor positions itself as the party of niceness and smiles.

However, is this a bad thing for the Labor party? As I see it the ALP want the unions to quit, or at least give the impression that they’re unhappy with the party.

That way they can minimise the perception that they're a bunch of red-ragging radicals while the union takes all the lumps by continuing to maintain that ”The boss is a c**t!” and by association keep up the gross hypocrisy that the Liberal party is a bunch of greedy, big business swine. And hypocritical it is too because the NSW Labor party has become, like it's brother in Victoria, just another Liberal Party. Until they spend all the money, that is.

In the end they know the unionists will overwhelmingly vote Labor and if they don’t they’ll vote Green and the votes will come back in preferences and they also know the unions can be counted upon to do all the footslogging and talk-back phone calling come election time.

Expect the same federally. Watch as Federal Labor slough off any association with the hard left, dreamoid cranks and professional outragists and continue to paint the Liberal Party as a bunch of self-centred, uncaring fascists. Or in Mark Latham’s ongoing refrain, ”Evil Tories”.

Be very careful John Howard!

Via the Melbourne Truth of Blogs and Saucy Babes

No Secrets.

The Elitist is a Tease!

Yesterday I found 4 large boxes of vinyl LPs outside a block of flats just down the street. Two eager fossickers - a man and woman apparently in their 20s - were already going through them and picking out their favourites. When they were finished, I had a look. What I found was disturbing. No fewer than 12 of them were ones I already had, all dating from 1974 - 1986. (This includes the embarrassing ones.) And there were 3 more where, though I didn't have them, I had other albums by those artists. And which ones did I take? No, that could be embarrassing too.

Time to speculate….

1) Explosive Hits 74
2) Ripper 75
3) The Eagles Greatest Hits
4) Close To The Edge – Yes
5) A Night At The Opera – Queen
6) Rumours – Fleetwood Mac
7) Hotel California – The Eagles
8) Sgt Peppers – The Musical
9) Frampton Comes Alive – Peter Frampton
10) Bat Out Of Hell – Meatloaf
11) A New World Record – Electric Light Orchestra
12) East – Cold Chisel
13) Too Rye Ay – Dexy’s Midnight Runners
14) Dare – Human League
15) Let’s Dance – David Bowie

Stuff We Need To Know!

Adam asks THIS....

What this site lacks is the news that everybody really wants to know. How many stabbings have taken place between North Melbourne and Kensington?

about THIS.

What I wanna know is THIS....

Why the hell isn't the North Melbourne station in North Melbourne?? Move it now!!

LAUGH TRACK

New Zealand v India is boring. C'mon, it is. Really.

For a start the Kiwis have dished up pitches that would challenge the most intrepid Himalayan mountain goat. With the cracks in these pitches Tony Greig would lose his whole car, not just the key.

This 22 yard two-level real estate has meant the side batting first struggles to a target of 200. Then the side batting second nurdles along at around 4 to 5 an over to eventually stumble over the line.

I've always been a fan of the occasional weather affected low scoring game. They're invariably close and make a pleasant change from your standard Richie Benaud approved batsmen's paradise, but every game?!?

I can do without the end for end medium pacers as well. Brett Lee mightn't be the most accurate of bowlers, but at least he ups the tempo with some lively chin-music.

Speaking of music. What's with the rancid caterwauling that fills in the down time between overs and also accompanies the batsman to the wicket? U2, Alien Ant Farm, Prince, Robbie Williams, Pearl Jam? Quick, pass the ricin.

Then we have to put up with the dubious comedy stylings of commentators Ian Smith, Jeremy Coney and Gavin Larsen. And biased?!? Jesus Bloody Johnson! They make the hug-heavy Fairfaxis of Evil seem like a right wing retired assassins club.

Fortunately, in the time-honoured tradition of Porky Pig in his role as smirking sidekick, Comedy Relief, help has been at hand.

Indian commentator Navjot Sudhu is a very entertaining wearer of a turban. He works the same kind of shtick as Kerry O'Keefe, but he's a vegetarian. He was superb last year in Sarth Efrica and he's in fine form again this summer in Enzed.

So if you somehow happen upon the next Kiwi/India festival of the bat, (It's on Foxtel and lives somewhere between Extreme Shopping and Monster Truck Tyre Changing) keep this in mind:

"The older you get, the better you get. Unless you're a banana."

Absence Form

Dear Miss Blogger,

Please excuse Tony. He's a good boy, but he was unable to blog on Friday & today because he swallowed something that upset him. His publican doctor advises that he be given light duties because he took too much medicine.

Yours Sincerely,
Mrs Teacher, Mother

Beware - Bore Below!

If there's a more boring scribe in Sunburnia than the Australian's Simple Error then I'm Terry Lane! I wouldn't normally read Simple's snore-a-thons, but as Tim Blair once said, "I read things". So, as I was down the pub for lunch with only the Sandshoe International tennis tourney on the telly I had no option but to troll through the nether regions of the Melbourne dailies.

Get a load of this mogadon....

You've also probably noticed I began this with "Dear Reader." I got this idea off that bloke who does Late Night Live on Radio National, Adam Someone or other. He always talks about his "Listener", who he calls Gladys. This is his way of being modest about what he supposes is a tiny audience. So I copied this idea with "Reader." Hope you Get it.

I get it, but I don't want it! Copy Adam Someone? Balls! I'd rather copy Adam Sandler. I'd get much more sense out of Adam from Thomastown!

The bulk of the article is one of those pathetic riffs popular amongst the faux-luddites that wail on about new technology.

My review? Don't bother. Still, things are looking up....

You've probably noticed the column has shrunk a bit over the past few weeks.

The Incredible Shrinking Man disappeared completely. There's hope for us yet.