After Grog Blog

TALKING CHOP

"Turds! Double turds!"

-- Spalding Smails

When golfers take air-swings they feel like idiots; they look like idiots, too. Naturally though, because it's funny, everyone else just laughs.

Can you imagine then, the sheer blinding extent of whoopee, if, instead of missing a golf ball, Spalding was an executioner missing a condemned man's neck. In 1642 an executioner took 29 swings to eventually hack off a murderer's head. That's right. Twenty. Nine. Swings. He must have been using the wrong end. Or a rubber tomahawk.

It was due to situations like that, and ostensibly not because they have no sense of humour, that the French introduced The Guillotine.

That's introduced. It's a popular misconception that the guillotine was invented by a Frenchman named Joseph-Ignace Guillotine; Jiggy to his mates. It was, in fact, named after one Joseph-Ignace Guillotin (sort-of rhymes with tan) and he merely presented an existing idea to the French Assembly. The Irish had used a crude unheading machine as early as the 1300s. Not only that, the French guillotine unveiled in 1792 was actually designed and built by a German harpsichord maker, Tobias Schmidt. Nor did Dr Guillotin die on The National Razor; he died in 1814 of a rather less theatrical carbuncle on his shoulder.

And that's all I have to say on Terri Schiavo.

TIDAL DAVE

BETTER LATE THAN CLEVER

Aussie Rules is a contact sport, and in contact sports strength and collision are everything. So although a slightly harder, but still free-running, loose-man Port Adelaide won the 2004 premiership, in 2005, the side that best employs collision football will again come out on top. Just like sides have done in nearly every season since I remember; let's say 1970.

Couple this with the fact that Geelong and the non-Victorian sides, Adelaide excepted, will win enough games at home to set up their seasons and make the finals.

Bearing those two things in mind, and that no predictions can be made concerning injuries, here is my 2005 ladder.

1. Brisbane
   Smarting from the 2004 Grand Final when everything went Port's way (including the TV instigated Preliminary Final scheduling), expect Brisbane to again be hard to beat at the Gabba. The Lions are the kings of collision and should go very close to the premiership. What we saw on Thursday night means Brizroy again mean business.
   
2. St Kilda
   The Saints at their best play the best football in the competition. Grant Thomas also understands the importance of collisions at the contest. However a suspect lower end of their best twenty and a dubious backline means they will only be good enough in 2005 to better 2004’s gains by one position.
3. Port Adelaide
   The Power will again easily make the top four, but just like each year before 2004, their loose-man style of play will again prove their Achilles heel when the heat is on.
4. West Coast
   The Toaster’s great on-ballers and their home-ground advantage will again see them up in the top eight. But they don’t have enough in the way of forward power and would need stellar years from the likes of McDougall, Lynch and again from Matera to regularly kick enough goals in the big games away from home; read Grand Final.
5. Sydney
   A well coached, tight unit will win more than they lose, but they lack enough star-power to win the big games that deliver a premiership.
6. Geelong
   Play a terrific style of close checking footy, I'm a big wrap for the Catters. But despite recruiting Brad Ottens, they also lot Ben Graham and so are only  slightly better than break-even. Expect them also to lose a few more of those close games they won last year.
7. Fremantle
   They have a dubious style of play, what with their Port-like reliance on setting up the loose-man. But twelve games in Perth added to the inclusion of Josh Carr's toughness at the drop of the ball mean they will win enough to get into the finals. Must find a marking target up front. If anyone is to drop out of my eight, though, it wouldn’t surprise me if it was Freo.
8. Carlton
   In short; Dennis Pagan. The master of collision footy will help them sneak into the eight. They have an ordinary group of players, though, so while having Pagan at the helm is an enormous boost, they have too many hacks to take them up into the top four. Personally it was shattered when it was apparent Pagan would go to Carlton, because he, more than any other coach, has the ability to quickly take them up the ladder. Carlton on the bottom is good for (my) football.
9. Richmond
   A smokey. Terry Wallace is the key inclusion. He plays a cunning style of footy which will have the Tiges winning regularly, but a lack of very good players will mean they will lose too often to sustain a big year. Wallace, also, is far too keen on setting up the loose-man and doesn’t concentrate enough on winning the tough balls. Like Sydney and the Bulldogs, to name a couple, expect plenty of flooding. I wonder who is going to be Wallace's Libber-like attack-dog.
   
10. Essendon
    No Sheedy side whether it be as a player or as a coach, ever has a shocking year unless ravaged by injuries. Despite the light talent of their recent inclusions, expect them to win a fair share of games.
11. Collingwood
    Had a poor year last year when injuries played a big role and they couldn’t get their season going. But Mick Malthouse will have The Pies playing his accountable, smothering style and will get the best out of the list. Needs Rocca and Tarrant to have big years to capitalise on any good work up the ground.
12. Adelaide
    Who knows where Adelaide are going to finish. Can Neil Craig coach? Can the likes of Schuback, Jericho and Hentchel develop? I've only got them here because I can't figure out where in the bottom eight they are going to finish. But twelve games in Adelaide is always a bonus. They might even win the odd one against the top sides.
13. Melbourne
    Melbourne won five games last year courtesy of Richmond, Hawthorn and the Bulldogs retaining their coaches for one year too long. All three sides were rubbish which enabled Melbourne to get their season going. Couple that with wins against injury-hit Collingwood, Sydney, St Kilda and Port and a generally favourable draw and Melbourne were able to win enough games to make the eight. However, Neil Daniher is not the greatest devotee of collision football. So this year expect the other sides to crowd Melbourne's forward line and deprive the Dees of scoring opportunities. For Melbourne to defy my gloomy prediction, they need to get much better when the heat is on. And if they are as soft as they were at times last year, they are gone because most of the sides they beat last year will be better this year. Certainly if they lose tonight against Essendon their season will end up in the toilet. Naturally I hope I'm completely and utterly wrong.
    
14. Kangaroos
    Not too sureabout the Kangas. I'm not convinced Laidley has what it takes and I just don't think they have enough good players to make an impact on the season. Daniel Welles is a star, though, and an awesome player to watch.
    
15. Western Bulldogs
    With Rodney Eade coaching they will enjoy some good wins, but like the Kangas, they just don't seem to have enough good players. There's a good chance they'll finish higher, but in an amazingly even competition, I can't think who they'll displace to move up the ladder.
    
16. Hawthorn
    If you've had a good look at their list, you'll know why they are going to finish on the bottom.

GO AHEAD, MAKE MY GAME

The first two Harry Callahan films, Dirty Harry and Magnum Force were both excellent. The third, The Enforcer was reasonable. The fourth, Sudden Impact, despite some great lines, -- including the often misplaced "Go ahead, make my day" -- a lame exercise in hits-and-memories. And the fifth, The Dead Pool, was dead boring; a strictly by-the-numbers flogging of a dead horse. Not that that's ever stopped Hollywood, though. No doubt, despite the diminishing quality, the pressure would have been on to make another. Do they go with another dud sequel, maybe even a prequel, or do they just remake the original?

If you answered None of the Above, you were spot-on correct.

NB: If you answered "remake the original", but until five minutes ago hadn't properly read the IMDb thus writing a whole post about the proposed remake, then you, too, can feel like an utter idiot.

MUM ON DOWN!

You heard it here first.

Tuesday on The Price Is Right, an old lady was called out of the audience. She first won the contest to see who competes on the show; you know, the game where three audience members zoom in on a price playing Lower-Higher. Then she went on and won her next challenge; taking home a clutch of white-goods. Finally she bombed out on the wheel; as it happens, the one game she played where luck is involved. That's luck; if you get my emphasising drift. Luck that wasn't needed to, one, get on the show in the first place, and two, to win the first two games if she already knew the correct prices.

You see, coincidentally, or NOT, the old lady is the mum of one of the show's male models.

STREET CRED

LIST AS A NEWT

Glenn Kenny, editor of Premiere Magazine, was trying to explain away why, among other perceived anomalies, Julia Roberts was ranked seven and Katherine Hepburn ranked fourteen in the magazine's list of Top 50 Movie Stars.

"I think that if you get too hung up on the rankings," waffled Kenny. "You're going to miss the enjoyment of the list."

It's not exactly a sensible reason is it, you ridiculous little shill. I mean, what's the point of having a list, then? May as well clump them all together in one enormous paragraph; separated only by commas.

Not that I particularly care what stars were rated where. Or, for that matter, that I even want to share in the "enjoyment". Afterall, there are only about ten actors in the list that I like. Instead, right off the top of the nadger, strictly without any thought, and naturally missing many, here are just some of actors that I enjoy watching; my STARS.

1. Warren Oates - My Number 1, like, for EVAH, dudes!
2. Harry Dean Stanton
3. Strother Martin
4. Robert Ryan
5. Gloria Graham
6. LQ Jones
7. Franklin Pangborn
8. Porter Hall
9. Marie Windsor
10. Randolf Scott
11. Matt Clark
12. Bill McKinney
13. Lee Marvin
14. Ed Lauter
15. Ben Johnson
16. Jack Nicholson
17. Gian Maria Volonte
18. Timothy Carey
19. Sydney Greenstreet
20. Steve Buscemi
21. Klaus Kinski
22. Elisha Cook Jnr
23. Jeff Bridges
24. Clint Eastwood
25. Bill Murray
26. Johnny Depp*
27. WC Fields
28. Rod Steiger
29. Bruce Dern
30. Ralph Meeker

SAUSAGE DROLL

"Show us your dick, then," was the sneering girly taunt that pricked-up my ears in the canteen yesterday; piercing, as it would, through the general lunchtime hub-bub.

No idea what had caused her to say what she said, but ribald banter like that is pretty common around here. In fact, it could even be considered genteel; context wise, you understand. Unlike what happened next. In a flash, the object of the jibe, an otherwise bland looking young bloke, had his snag out and was boldly brandishing it around the canteen.

As you can imagine, there was a helluva rumpus. What with the squealing and the running around and the hollering for personal trauma councillors. But I bet you already know what I was thinking. Yep, "Christ, that's bloggable!" And I must have come up with a thousand blistering, multi-layered and exquisitely crafted knob-gags. But, really, a bloke flashing his dick in the canteen; well, there's not much more to add, is there? That kind of material just writes itself.

AS TIME GOES BY-ELECTION

It seems like an eon ago, but can it really only be five-and-a-bit months since last October's federal election?

Latham predicts Bennelong by-election

Federal Labor leader Mark Latham has predicted there will be a by-election in John Howard's Sydney seat of Bennelong no matter who wins Saturday's federal election.

Mr Latham thinks Mr Howard will quit politics if the Coalition loses the election, or if it wins, Peter Costello will take over as prime minister.

Mr Latham has told a special edition of ABC program Insiders that is something that voters should take into account when deciding who they want to be prime minister.

"Win, lose or draw, Mr Howard's going to have a by-election in Bennelong," he said.

"There'll be no by-election in Werriwa. I'm 43 years of age and raring to go.

"I'm here for the long-haul service of the Australian people, whereas Mr Howard of course is cutting and running into retirement."

Thanks, Teejay.

IRISH HOFFEE

SWEET'N LOO

"The stench of the toilets is a problem,"conceded the boss at last week's staff meeting. "But the cleaners won't do anything about it because the students eat the toilet lollies."

It's true. We have a large program for special kids, and they get up to all kinds of mischief. The snaggle-headed scamps. One thing they do is steal the hygiene blocks out of the urinals. God knows what they do with them, really, I don't think they eat them. They might lick them, but I'm pretty sure they'd only lick them once. More likely, they're just attracted to the pretty colours.

It's not the only problem with our toilets, either. For the first month of term there were no hand towels beside the basins. Some fools were drying their hands on toilet paper and leaving trails of soggy white litter all through the building. The rest of us smarter teachers wiped our hands on our jeans like normal people. Then some bright spark had the idea of using newspaper. Christ, what morons. Newspapers don't soak up anything; and there's the ink, too.

I don't know what incompetant halfwit was responsible this situation; if it was the cleaners getting lazy, you'd hope they'd lose the contract. Most probably someone in our department just got slack.

Getting back to the toilet lollies, though. I suggested that instead of nice shiny toilet blocks, we try chunky brown chocolate bars; Picnics or Chokitos. That would sort the men out from the boys, or rather, the merely stupid out from the truly demented.

THE GRAND OLE OPERA

Saturday night Boynton, Nora and myself went to see some country music: Madame Butterfly at a winery.

Given the setting, none of us expected an evening of operatic perfection; in fact, we wouldn't have rocked up if we'd had to spring for the tickets. $56 to drive an hour into the country to listen to any music in a large open-air bowl with poor acoustics is not my idea of money-well-spent. But we knew that going in, so we weren't about to get pissy on the sound.

No, the evening was closer to a picnic with opera as a backdrop.

That doesn't mean we didn't TRY to listen, though, we aren't complete philatelists. But the incessant distractions of a festive crowd meant concentrating on the music was nigh-on pointless. All through the show people were getting up to buy food and drink, clinking bottles, distributing and lighting cigarettes, going to the toilet or wandering over to the bar to cop a football score. There was even one old couple who kept sending their grand-daughter up to buy goodies. "Grandma, grandpa, here are your drinks / sandwiches / coffees / cakes / chips / cheese platter," she'd call as she returned from yet another visit to the shop. It probably skipped the oldsters' attention that the wenchette had her arm in a sling.

Boynton loved the surroundings. "Look at the trees, Tony. TONY, look at the trees. Aren't they beautiful and green?" she enthused. A lot. "Yes, green," I replied. Trees are green.

Nora was spoiling for a fight. A smoochy couple on a blanket right in front of us got all pally with the couple next to them and with a pair of gals on the other side. Cigarettes were their connection, just like in jail. One of the gals, a porky, Pommy one, was particularly pissed and could barely stand up. They paid no attention whatsoever to the show, so I hope they forked out full whack and regretted it. Anyway, they partied on through the night and when Nora suggested they "Shush!" they started shushing in return, just like a bunch of schoolkids. To be perfectly honest, they didn't worry me; I couldn't hear the opera and by now was hoping for a brawl to spice up the night. Sadly a rumpus never eventuated, but the sextet did provide the standout highlight of the night. Just as Cio-Cio-San started pining on the porch for Pinkerton, the pissed, porky, Pommy gal-pal who was now sprawled on the blanket, rolled over dugong-like onto the grass and spewed up right at my feet. Shush that, tubby!

I ask you: do you get THAT at The Royal Albert Hall? The Met? Or The Sydney stupid Opera house? I think not. Money very well not-spent, in my opinion.

So, despite not getting to hear much of the show, all up it was an enjoyable excursion. But as for this particular version of Madame Butterguts by Spew-ccini, well, we had to treat it as something less than your classic Night At The Opera.

***

"It ain't over 'til the fat lady spews."

-- San Antonio sports broadcaster Dan Cook

Well, Cook said something like that, anyway.

Should you read the Ralph Keyes' book Nice Guys Finish Seventh: False Phrases, Spurious Sayings, and Familiar Misquotations you will discover that the phrase "The opera ain't over 'til the fat lady sings," in fact evolved from an older saying: "Church ain't out 'til the fat lady sings."

I didn't know fat ladies were noted for their singing in church.

CELL PHONEYS

"Do not push 90# on your home phone," reads the ominous email I just opened. Gingerly I pushed the phone into the corner of the desk; struggling to resist the urge to press 90# to see what would happen.

It's a proper warning, though, and came via our school's tech department and the Victoria Police State Crime Squads.

Do not push 90# on your home phone.

I got a call last night from an individual identifying himself as an AT&T service technician who was conducting a test on our telephone line.  He stated that to complete the test I should touch nine, zero, hash and then hang up.  Luckily I was suspicious and refused.

Upon contacting the telephone company, I was informed that by pushing 90# you give the requesting individual full access to your telephone line, which allows them to place long distance telephone calls billed to your home phone number.

I was further informed that this scam has been originating from many of the local prisons.

DO NOT PRESS 90# FOR ANYONE.

Please pass this on to your friends.

I would pass it on to my friends, but bugger them. I'll pass it on to you reader oafs, instead. Aren't I a brick?

PAROLE MODELS

"Mum and dad didn't keep ordinary hours," fondly recalled Shane Hodson, loving son and violent bank robber. "They usually stayed at home and did a few lines of coke."

Really just your normal, everyday, armed family. In fact, the Hodsons were oddly reminiscent of another cheery crime clan.

"He was a smashing bloke. He used to buy his mother flowers and that."

-- Stig O'Tracy

TWO TONES

"Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch."

-- Mark Antony, Antony and Cleopatra. Act I, Scene II.

That is very true, you know. Maybe not numerically, but in essense, for sure. It's a public holiday here, just gone noon, and so far I've done precisely f~~k all. Yet already I've thought up at least 145 ways I would insult people if I were filthy rich.

Exit

THREE FINGER SALUTE

This drunk leaves a bar and because it's raining he decides to take a shortcut through a local graveyard. It's very dark and the drunk doesn't see the open grave in his path and falls into it.

He tries to climb out, but it's too deep and what's more, the rain has turned the dirt to slush so that the sides are too slippery to climb up. After a while he gives it up and decides to spend the night in  the grave.

Not long after, another drunk leaves the same bar and decides to take the same shortcut through the same graveyard. He, also, falls into the same open grave and starts trying to climb out but, like the first drunk, finds the sides too slippery.

The first drunk is sitting there watching the second drunk as tries to get out. He stands up, taps the him on the shoulder and tells him, "You'll never get out."

He did.

Vale Dave Allen.

PAIR OF SCEPTICALS

What have Matt Price and Richard Hinds got in common? Yes, they are sports journalists. Yes, they barrack for scum football teams; Fremantle and Collingwood, respectively. Yes, they wear loud shirts. None of those three, though, is what I'm on about.

No, what I'm on about is that both reflexively refer to John Howard as a quotated "cricket tragic". The clear inference being that they don't believe the PM is really the huge cricket fan he claims to be, and is, in fact, a "cricket fraud".

Now this may just be written off as political barracking; each is a lefty, afterall. But on those occasions the PM joins the ABC radio commentary team and isn't being fawned upon by Kerry O'Keefe*, his mechanical recitation of facts and figures is downright embarrassing. "I remember SIR Don Bradman's testimonial game. SIR Donald made 123, Keith Miller made 2 and 14, Ray Lindwall 104, Lindsay Hassett was stumped by Don Tallon for 102, Tallon himself made 146 with 17 fours in the second innings and Col McCool took 5 for 101 of 19.4 overs. And ...err ... KD Meuleman made 100, RA Hammence 48, G. Noblet 9 and VN Raymer 40." **

The PM has never been a fluid speaker so, on the surface, there's nothing much wrong with him talking about cricket in his customary style; or lack thereof. Couple this with the fact that he's probably well researched, and thus has loads of statistics at his fingertips. But it's the idea he needed to research them that is the problem. And that his cricket persona (in the ABC booth, at least) comes across as contrived and un-natural.

Being a cricket tragic myself, and adhering to the old playground maxim, "it takes one to know one", I'm inclined to agree with the two hacks above. If it was me had been at that game, I wouldn't have needed to reasearch (the majority of) those facts, I'd just know them.

No, I'd be very surprised if Howard was the cricket fan he'd like us to believe. He's certainly not one in the same way Richard Nixon was the football fan described by Hunter.S.Thompson ...

"Where is Richard Nixon, now that we need him? He was crooked in every way and his hands were covered with blood -- but he was a rabid, high-rolling football fan with a sly taste for gin; and on some nights, he could be good company"

***

Speaking of commentary. Here in Poohtown, Braxtoria the radio cricket coverage from New Zealand is not via the ABC, as is normal, but via SEN 1116, who have picked up the feed after the ABC knocked it back.

The actual coverage of the action is unremarkable (when it happens, I'll get to that). Anthony Hudson, is no one's idea of a cricket commentator, but at least he speaks clearly; when he's not shreiking, that is. And the Kiwi commentators are competant despite the occasional barracking. Smuthy on the tilly is another story.

It's at the end of each over, though, that we are treated to the boundless delights of commercial radio in all it's retail glory.

First a pairing of musical link and station promo. "You are listening to the cricket from New Zealand on Radio SEN Sports 1116." Hello! I know that; I'm listening, aren't I? Then comes the commercial. Mercifully we've so far been spared the dodgiest ad on radio, the Tint Professor.*** It can only be a matter of time. Then another link / promo couplet, and finally Francis Leach with an update of other sports. All this is shoe-horned into the broadcast just in time for an eventual return to the cricket somewhere around the second ball of every over.

There's no doubt that if the coverage was on the much tighter 3AW there would be just the one commercial, sans garnishing and no action missed. Just like they did back in 1988/89 when they teamed Henry Blofeld, Slug Jordan and Dennis Cometti.

We live in hope that SEN trim their act, because at the moment it is totally unacceptable and even-more-than-totally unlistenable.

* Kerry needs to "get back to basics". Yes, it's fine to have a sense of humour. No, it's not fine to let it get in the way of the action. He's trying too hard to be "funny".

** That's not an exact quote, but you get the picture.

*** Yes. I am fully aware of the irony. Shut up!

TIP FOR THE DAY

It's said, a tip, as in "What are you waiting for, c~~t? A TIP?" is an acronym for To Insure Promptness. Is it f~~k!

In local tipping news ...

"In Australia, tipping is not common and almost all service providers will never expect a tip."

Good show, us.

'OW IZZ ART?

TOO MUCH MONKEY BUSINESS

I saw Blow Up at boarding-school; on a grey Sunday afternoon at the audio-visual room in 1976. I was 14 years old, going on 25, so naturally, I thought the film was cool and I was hip. It wasn't until years later, when I'd rented it from the video store, that I discovered it was crap. More than that, David Hemmings romping in the nude made me queasy.*

As it happens, I'd seen Vanishing Point the week before. Petrocelli, naked hippies, fast cars, drugs and a grizzly ending with bulldozers. I must have been in a zone because I thought it was also great. Sadly, just like Blow Up, it was later revealed to be nonsense.

Anyhoo, back at the point, one of the AGB heroes was in Blow Up, The Yardbird's Jeff Beck. Not so much for his guitar playing, mind you, (it's fine, even though his music never quite delivered) but because everytime I see him interviewed, he comes across as a magic bloke.

The other day on Ovation there was a documentary on The Yardbirds, and in it, Beck gives yet another reason as to why we should like him.

"Antonioni, I think, was a pompous oaf; I didn't like him at all. Everyone was calling him Sir and I couldn't understand why.

The film was a bit af a joke, anyway. It was all based on his ... his vision of London which is a bit of Hemmings ... I mean, Hemmings was supposed to be Bailey, and we were supposed to be The Who. Why didn't he just use those people and make a proper documentary? Instead of this crackpot sort of joke.

The film was a bit of a joke. [blows raspberry] Crap. But the people loved it. It kept us going, you know, but I'd seen the premiere in Los Angeles and thought 'Well, that's the end of us.'"

I love Beck's straight-shooting. His description of Keith Relf was the stand-out highlight of the rockumentary, Dancing In The Streets. Actually, the more I see of Beck the more I see the inspiration for Nigel Tufnell. I'd always thought Tufnell was based on Francis Rossi, certainly Spinal Tap are based on Status Quo, but lately I've been thinking Tufnell himself was based on Beck; he looks and sounds remarkably like him. Maybe I was thrown because David St Hubbins was so much like Rick Parfitt.

* I get exactly the same feeling when I see Malcolm McDowell nuding-up in If,  Clockwork Orange, Caligula and the like. And despite everyone telling me how good they are, it's the reason I've never been able to get into the Flashman books; I keep thinking about Royal Flash and how I want to throttle McDowell. Romping, pasty, sixties bath-dodgers just don't do it for me.

In the otherwise pedestrian eighties flick Blue Thunder, the great Warren Oates sums up McDowell perfectly; "Irritating little cocksucker, ain't he?"

TOO FAST INJURIOUS

"F^*k," I said when I heard the news today (Oh boy!). When he hit the pole, our ex-hoon was doing 140 in a 40 zone.

ALTER GROG BLOG

F*&^1%@ evil Queenslanders! Imagine pinching my name AND citing Barenaked Ladies.

I suppose Googling After Grog Blog was out of the question. Here, allow me; After Grog Blog. First! What about The After Grog Blog? First, too! And whaddaya know? This blog even shows up on the first page for just AGB. And The AGB.

Calling all good Banana Benders. Paul? Carl? Currency Lad? Pop up to FNQ and sort them out, please. Take naked Niall to scare them and go the squirrel. Adventure Girl? Maybe you could drop individually-wrapped cheese portions on them from 30,000 feet; I bet you've always wanted to do that, anyway. Mark Bahnisch, you can tag along and give them a jolly thorough post-modern clubbing. Tell 'em about Beth Orton; that ought to fix them RIGHT up.

TONE JOC

I'M NOT DENEUVE

Caught Rage on Saturday night; I'm Not In Love was playing.

"I keep your picture
Upon the wall
It hides a nasty stain that's lying there"

Now, I've heard it many times and yet it suddenly hit me; THAT'S stupid! Things lie on a floor; they are stuck or daubed or smudged on a wall. A literal improvement would be "It hides a nasty stain that's shmeeered there". Even better still, "It camouflages an ugly smudge that is, in fact, conceal-ed there ... ooh yeah". It's really quite apparent 10 CC just weren't trying hard enough.

Given that I've long thought most pop lyrics are hopelessly half-witted, I suspect this is a theme that's going to reveal itself in many, many more songs.

More stupid, though, are the dolts revealed by this site. People with ears full of caramel custard who thought they were hearing something other than that which is being sung. Here's a selection from I'm Not In Love.

Misheard Lyrics: Be fine, be moist and quiet.
Correct Lyrics: Don't cry, big boys don't cry.

Misheard Lyrics: Big Boston choir
Correct Lyrics: Big boys don't cry

Misheard Lyrics: Break boys, take five
Correct Lyrics: Big boys don't cry.

Misheard Lyrics: I'm naughty, love
Correct Lyrics: I'm not in love

Misheard Lyrics: I'm not a glove
Correct Lyrics: I'm not in love

Misheard Lyrics: My voice in Quad
Correct Lyrics: Big boys don't cry

Misheard Lyrics: Quick question, Kwai
Correct Lyrics: Big boys don't cry

Misheard Lyrics: They poisoned Clyde
Correct Lyrics: Big boys don't cry

Stupid people. Either they are nigh on deaf or, I suspect, some are taking the piss.

ALIGHT FINGERS

One of our students, Krill, burnt his hand. He had snuck out of class for a crafty drag and a teacher, Jase, had sprung him. "What are you doing?!?" boomed Jase. Krill panicked and hid the gasper in his hand.

It turns out stupid Krill really had done himself a bit of damage, so he shambled off to sickbay to get some attention. While there he filled out an incident form (with difficulty) blaming Jase for burning his hand. Jase had to fill out another form giving his version of events. Naturally, he was cleared. Not, you understand, because Krill was patently in the wrong. No, he was cleared because he made it clear it wasn't his responsibility to teach students how to smoke correctly.

Krill dropped the matter. And, as it happens, many other things.

SPOKE TOO HOON

"He smashed his car on Saturday night," remarked fellow teacher Jake yesterday. Jake was talking about one of our hoons. "No surprise there," I said, "no doubt he was driving like a clown. The bloke is a fair dinkum imbo."

"Was."

****

UPDATE: Let's make one thing crystal clear; especially for those hard of thinking. Becoming a teacher for the holidays is not "joining the profession for the wrong reasons"; it's the only reason. There is bugger all satisfaction to be had from trying to stuff knowledge into the porridge our students laughingly call their brains. And the main challenge is trying not to mock when lazy arseholes fail. Sisyphus, anyone?

Teaching becoming a fallback

VICTORIAN classrooms are under threat from teachers who may have joined the profession for the wrong reasons.

An inquiry found many became teachers because they failed to get into the career of their choice, wanted long holidays or were tired of studying.

Graduate secondary school teachers, in particular, were found to be motivated more by convenience than a desire to work with children.