Day 2 - The [Blanking] [in]

Sleeping [in]. Lying [in]. Eating [in]. Watching [TV].



Footy. A hot one. From a Respectable Source!

Via the excellent CHUCKER.

Day 1 - The Phone Call

Yesterday, on arriving at Sinney airport there occurred a phone conversation between another person and the person generally referred to by application of the perpendicular pronoun.

This in itself is not significant. I've used a telephone before. I have. What was significant was the look on my friend's face as I was on the blower. I thought there was something wrong with him, no that's not a fair, I KNOW there's something wrong with him, but it turned out he was actually looking behind me. Why? Well, his eye had been caught by the lurking presence of what he later described as a junky pickpocket and he’d been trying to warn me to mind my luggage.

When I got off the phone I turned round to be confronted by a female type person of the contradictory gender. She was crouched down against the wall, chewing gum with more vigor than Mark Taylor and glaring up at me as though I'd stolen her luggage (Back pack it turns out) off the conveyor.

At first I didn't recognize her. Lank unwashed hair. Jutting chin. Flinty eyes. Intense glare. No theees ain't a spaghetti western meeesta. Pants made from off-cut 1970's curtains. Coat made from grandma's old bedspread. What the hell was she staring at me for? I'd done nothing to her. Nothing intentional anyway. On reflection I probably had. My conversation had gone something like this...

TT - "Tim Blair?"
TB - "Yes."
TT - "Tony the teacher."
TB - "Tony. How was the flight?"
TT - "Not bad."
TB - "Blah."
TT - "Blah."
More blahs....then....
TB - "Stupid Age."
TT - "Crazy Adams."
TB - "Bitter man."
TT - "Idiot ABC"
TB - "Stupid Morning Herald."
TT - "Insane Margo"
TB - "Very very insane."
TT - "Very very very insane"
I exaggerate.
TB - "7:30 report sux."
TT - "Mary Delahunty's a skank."
Etcetera. Strangely, no mention of Hugh Mackay but you get the drift. All in all a right royal slag at the Fairfaxis Of Evil. We then organized where it was we were going to drink fruit juice and eat bean shoots. After that I hung up and it was here I was accosted by the aforementioned physiognomy. It was also at this moment, or a moment later, that I realized who Junky Pickpocket was.

On later describing this bizarre coincidence to Tim his first response….

”She look like a junky?”

I didn’t notice if he checked for his wallet.



That's it for now. I'm being transported to Port Jackson for crimes against beer. The next post you see (If anyone's watching. It's very quiet today. In fact lately.) will be made from my Potts Point cell.


What's Steve Waugh up to? Bat Them Out Of It Tugga! Just like the bath dodgers did in S'Siddey.

And what's this nonsense?

He decided against batting in the first innings after feeling his concentration had waned while waiting out long partnerships.

So he sends someone else in then. I'd be very disappointed if I thought he was protecting his average. If it's good enough to sacrifice Gilchrist's and Hogg's then it should be good enough for Waugh to step into the breach. I'd actually thought he was protecting his hand for an extra day or so. That seemed reasonably sound given the circumstances. But "concentration"?!? Every one in the dressing-room would have been suffering the same degree of tedium. For the captain to cede his position in the order for that seems totally bizarre!



Are we RESPECTED as people?


Do we RESPECT each other?


Do we RESPECT people in nursing homes?


Do we RESPECT youngsters in university who don't want to break themselves financially?


Do we RESPECT the parents who have no option but to sent their kids to public schools?


Do we RESPECT ordinary middle income earners when it comes to access to affordable health care?


Do we RESPECT ourselves as a people when we deprive ourselves unnecessarily of choice when it comes to defending our national interest?

The Brand Blimp's On A Roll. Momentum. Can't stop. Faster. Sentences longer. But. Does he want to be leader? Not unless they....

Give it to me, Give it to me, Give it to me, Give it to me, Give it to me, Give it to me, Give it to me, Give it to me

R-E-S-P-E-C-T.....What's the party think of me?

UPDATE: Give it to me too!


Thanks James.

You are Mustard Guy!

Who's a CLEVER BOY then? On Second Thoughts!

Oh well, pass the pickles.


"Yes M'lady."

"Say it ain't so!"

How does the old saying go? EC is DOG.

Not dead.

Many Aussies would remember Red Symons from Skyhooks (That make-up! What WERE they thinking?!?) and Hey Hey It's Saturday. Now he's doing morning shifts on 774 ABC here in Melbourne.

He started mornings when Lynne Haultain went off to have a baby. Unfortunately for Lynne and fortunately for us (She's a shocking bore) the ABC decided to stick with Red. Not without some drama though, she'd been promised her gig back under the Abe's equal opportunity policy. That's another story.

Anyway, Red has something of an acerbic wit. This was often displayed on Hey Hey when he'd gong some gormless idiot or cute kid on Red Faces. More power to him, I say. Now he's on talk radio so he's got countless opportunities to bag the brain dead morons who populate our airwaves. "On the line is John from Brighton. Again. What's the matter now John?"

Plenty of times he's made me laugh out loud. The other day some old codger rang up....

Duffer.Q.Oldfart - "Rehehehehehed, I was at luverlee wedding Sat-dee. It were wonderful. The groom said beautiful words from a song."

Red - "What was the song?"

D.Q.O - "Ohh, I dunno. But it were nice."

Red - "That's nice."


Red - "Siiiiggghhh. Luv. Er. Leeee. I. Met. Him. On. A. Monday. And. My. Heart. Stood. Still. Da. Doo. Ron. Ron."

Kids have always been a favourite target. The other day he outdid himself. Some junior know-all rang up during a quiz....

Red - "Hello little girl."

L.G - "Hi."

Red - "Now I'm sure you're very smart and you'll win. But I bet you've already got a pony and a little pink dress."


Red - "Well, hang up now and go ask your mummy for one."


Ex. Ell. Ent.


This time it's Nina Simone who's kicked the bucket. No mention of how. Must be booze. Or drugs. Or both. Just floating one out there.

Apparently she....

....had a reputation for being moody and difficult. She would often change her repertoire at a moment's notice or berate noisy members of the audience, sometimes threatening to walk off stage, and frequently making good on the threat.

From what I've heard that's something of an understatement. Melbourne rock-pig Billy Pinnell once related a story of how when Simone toured here in the 1960's she was all that and more. In fact, the complete hell-bitch! (Spot hidden gag)

You can get away with that kind of stuff if you're Cranky Franky, but not if you're second tier. Personally I thought her music was boring and that 80's hit My Baby Just Cares for Me drives me nuts.

"And even Liberace's smile"

Stop it!



David Morgan, Home Sydney, Australia, DOB 20/07/1961 points out Time Magazine's New Cover is a lot like an Old Cover. Time tell us Why, but NOT what they're Making Up For this time round.


"Oh, the snot has caked against my pants
It has turned into crystal
There's a bluebird sitting on a branch
I guess I'll take my pistol
I've got it in my hand
Because he's on my land"

Last night I saw the new version of the Most Famous Unknown Band Of The Sixties. Unfortunately there weren't any Strings and Horns but it was still a Brilliantly Brilliant Show.

"Sitting on a hillside
Watching all the people die"

Yep. No doubt about it. A lovey-dovey, hippy-dippy, kissy-kissy band.


Rumours of it are gravely exhumed.

For those of you with a sense of the macabre here's a site well worth a visit. Simply put, the wonderfully named Blue Lips is all about dead stuff.

Unfortunately host Toni has Breast Cancer. Fortunately she's decided it's better to chuckle about it than complain about it.

So go and have a read. Better still, try some of Toni's must-have death-goodies....

A full set of Six Feet Under DVDs. Talk about authenticity! You can say you got 'em from an expert?

Oh Oh. Foot odour. Can't get rid of those nasty smells? How about the tastefully presented Coffin Incense Burner.

Runny nose? Well, you'll need a brace of the new and improved (and possibly used) Orifice Plugs.

Ever wondered where Jack Klugman learnt about forensics? Where Patricia Cornwell learnt to use stomach fluids to select vintage wines? Autopsy: Voices of Death oughta fill in the gaps.

Trouble with numbers? Can't count so good? How about ten Toe Tags labelled from 1 to 12?

And you just gotta have the classy blue Embalming Bottle. Perfect for those, ahem, Excess sleeping pills.

Now, while I'm off to exploit the spirit of the moment by watching Kill, Baby...Kill! you can go visit Toni and perhaps buy something you never thought you'd need. Better hurry though.


Tuesday night I won a trivia night by 3 points with a score of 90 from 100. This isn't as impressive as it sounds because one of the five 20 point rounds was dedicated totally to sport. In this round I got 20 from 20. The guy who came second scored 14 with a total score of 86 and the guy who came third scored 9 for a total score of 85. Therefore, my strongest topic saw me across the line.

Also the 20 point music round, which usually comprises a litany of music criminals, Britney, Shania, Madonna, Phil Collins, Billy Joel, etc was all Beatles except for one ABBA song. For that round I got 19 instead of the usual 5 or 6. By the way, guess which one I got wrong.

Anyway, in case anyone's interested, here's the sports round. You have to name the sport these names are associated with....

1) Franz Klammer
2) Jason Bright
3) Steve Davis
4) Janet Evans
5) Dick Savitt
6) Scott Hamilton
7) Brendon Goddard
8) Mark Geyer
9) Victor Shcherbo
10) Len Mattiace
11) John Lowe
12) Bernard Hinault
13) Boris Spassky
14) Marquess of Queensbury
15) Detroit Tigers
16) Miami Dolphins
17) Sergey Bubka
18) Terence Hogan
19) Carl Hooper
20) Lew Alcindor

No googling allowed. Answers later.



Today in The Australian (Unlinked. I think) Matt Price & Steve Lewis write about the leadership options facing the ALP....

This week a simplistic Network Ten phone poll registered 87 per cent support for Beazley over 13 per cent for Crean from more than 13,000 callers. A [good word] Newspoll conducted for The Australian this week found barely one voter in ten nominated Crean as their preferred leader, compared with 43 per cent for Beazley.

13 in 100 against with 1 in 10. Round that off. 1/10 v 1/10. Simplistic? Similar? Same.

PS: Jenny Macklin anyone?


Hurry back Paul! It's hell-time here and the local hacks aren't up to the task. We need your velvet touch....

Geelong residents are experiencing "Tumultuous and Frightening Days" because the Cats are on the bottom.

Out west the Bullies are operating hand to mouth. Ominously a "Smell of Death Lingers" over Barkly Street.

Pie president Eddie McCollingwood is upset with the AFL. In erecting an insulting banner he employed "Artless Efforts to Manipulate" the draft.

Paul McGo. Reporting. From. Strife. Torn. Mel. Born.



I just went to a funeral. My Godfather died Monday. He was a good old bloke, but unfortunately he had Parko's for the last six years so I'd not seen too much of him. He's been in an old folks home and every time I'd say to Dad, "Hey Dad, let's go see Ken.", Dad would reply, "That's not a good idea, he'd only think you're Henry VIII." While that's an interesting concept, it's also something of a deterrent. I don't do old people well. At any rate I'm more Richard III. (Rhymes with Stanley Steamer)

The Funeral was in St Andrews, Brighton. Not as startling as it undoubtedly sounds, but it's where my mum, my brother and I were christened. It's where my parents and other rellies were married. My mum and brother were born across the road and for seven years I went to school next door. The place has resonance with the After Grog family.

It was the first time I'd been there since 1972. The year after we moved to northern Western Australia which is about as far from St Andrews as you can go in Straya and still ask for a packet of Bikkies.

The salient memory? How bloody cold the place was. It was always freezing. Still is.

It was also a dull service. Just like at school. Lots of prayers, psalms and hymns. Amen. There were some references to the Corinthians (relevance eluded me) and therefore plenty of talk about St Paul and his epistles to the apostles. Or something. Overall, it was theologically weighted. There were a couple of speeches from his nephew (No kids) and his God-daughter. They were nice, if a little lifeless (Oops).

Also, I was about the only person in the congregation capable of un-zimmered perambulation. There was a gurgling baby, but it was gurgling away in a pram. This was an old collection of souls.

How it stacked up against other Funerals, I couldn't say. I've only been to one. I didn't even go to my mum's. The other one I went to was in Queensland. It was all Demons, beer, and wine. My best friend drank lots of beer and got lost in his hotel bathroom. I wasn't cold and the average age was about my age. I also knew everyone there.

Back here....if the core formalities were a trifle mundane, the finalé was not. Ken was a pilot in Bomber Command and the service finished with his coffin, adorned in an RAAF flag, being wheeled out to the hearse The Last Post was played. A moving moment.

Cheers Ken. It was great to know you. Wherever you are….

Strike Hard, Strike Sure



One thing about being on holidays, is that you get to lie in bed and listen to the radio. Here in Melbourne there's a choice between John Faine on the ABC, Neil Mitchell on 3AW and Kevin Bartlett on Sport 927. Usually I switch between the three depending on what's being talked about.

Anyway, I decided to listen to John Faine. This morning he interviewed Transport Minister Peter Batchelor and Federal Treasurer Peter Costello.

First Batchelor. Faine started off by asking him whether he should resign for a breach of promise. A cover question only. What’s Faine hope to achieve; "Yes John, I'm a lying, duplicitous, hypocritical fraud and I'll be resigning forthwith."? It's true, but he ain't gonna say it. He DID allow Batchelor a series of policy statements on how state Labor "Should be allowed to get on with the job of building better roads for Victoria." and how "The Federal Government should make available to Victoria the money it had coming via the 450 Mil for the Mitcham Freeway." No typical Faine crack there about the "Free" Way. He reserves those barbs for Liberal pollies. After each clipped question was answered, Faine would move onto the next (Scripted?) one. On the two occasions Batchelor made mention of Federal hypocricy Faine let it pass and moved onto the next question. No man-on-man press about the State Government's own clear hypocricy. Not once did I hear the term Backflip. No interjections. No smart arse, pass the latté, Terry Lane's me mate, Brunswick Street interjections. Just a quick interview. Question. Answer. Question. Speech. Thank you.

Contrast that with his ten minutes with Costello. Refusal to accept answers. Challenge points. Constant interruptions. Talkovers. Smart arsery. Press. Press. Press.

After the 9:00 News he took talk back. In fact the first called pretty much echoed what I wrote. Miracle that one got through. The rest, other than one (Double surprise), said stuff along the lines of "Ooooh John, I don't know what that first caller was on.". At one point Faine noted that he thought he was "Much tougher on Peter Batchelor." Bizarre. "I even asked him if he'd resign!" Oohhh.

Then one caller rang up with some crack about Costello, I paraphrase, "It's not about the surplus, it's about more money." Faine? Nothing.

NOTE: Labor won power in 1999 by one seat. Tullamarine is one seat. Tullamarine is on the tolled City Link. Prior to '99 it was held by Liberal MP Bernie Finn. Finn lost it based on Peter Batchelor's, shrill, media assisted campaign that he would; Seek to remove tolls on City Link and that he would never, ever, really truly, hand on heart, introduce tolls on Victorian Roads."


Fat Cat has a Fat Head

Yesterday I accidentally mentioned Aussie cricketer Greg Ritchie. Accidentally, at first, that is. Because, In the same way Fleming discovered bread mould cured sore throats, some Greek guy's wet bathroom floor became an Aussie symbol of Unionism and an apple gave Isaac Newton a headache, Greg Ritchie turned Gabba Garbage into Gabba Gold.

Some of you may remember Greg Ritchie. Some of you may not. Anyway, Fat Cat, as he is known, was a mediocre batsman during Aussie cricket's great era of domination abomination during the early to mid 1980's.

Some others of you may remember him as an Aussie tourist in the West Indies. Wallowing in a blow-up plastic swimming pool, swilling rum and waddling onto the oval at Sabina Park in Kingston, Jamaica "Mon" to help Steve Waugh celebrate his series winning double century (Thanks to Courtney Brown).

Others still, an incident at Perth airport where he called an Indian counter jockey a "F**kin' Curry Muncher!"? Actually this can't be true. There are no Curry Munchers in Perth. Just Skippies, Yarpies, Bath Dodgers and Kiwis.

Not yet? Whaddabout Mahatma Coat? A pathetic parody of an Indian living in Australia so excruciatingly bad that, by comparison, made Kate Langbroek's juvenile twitterings seem like the best of Bill Hicks."


Yes. Him. Anyway, this day at the Gabba, Fat Cat was with veteran pigeon impressario, Bill Lawry. The Windies were playing Pakistan and the Windies were bowling. I think it was Moin "I didn't say anything unpleasant" Khan facing Ian Bishop. I'm not 100% sure of the names, but that doen't matter. The commentary went something like this....

F.Cat - "In comes Bishop. Bowls. Moin's down the wicket. Skies the ball towards Mid-On. This is going to be out. Walsh is running back. Here comes Ambrose. They're gonna collide. No. Great catch by Walsh. Great work on the high ball. Could have been straight out of a Rugby League State Of Origin game at Lang Park. Just like Alfie Langer.

Fat Mahatma cranks it up a notch....


Bill, deader than a factory full of pans - "Caught Walsh. Bowled Bishop."


Backflip with a twist.

The State Govt today announced they're gonna Tip 1 Billion into public transport. Now, why would they do something like that? Why wouldn't they just hold the private companies, Connex, M-Trains, etc to the terms of their contracts? After all, one billion dollars is a lot of money (Our Money) to spend purely to try to discredit the previous Kennett government.

Maybe they just need a reason to cover up this Staggering Hypocricy.

Victorian Premier Steve Bracks today announced as a result of Budget pressures, there would be a toll on the soon-to-be built Mitcham-Frankston Freeway.

"We will never introduce tolls!" was their squawking chorus, admirably aided by a compliant media, before the 1999 election.

State Labor. A stable conservative government. Until the money runs out.

How have I neglected thee...

Dogs. Dees. K's. Boobs. Twopeat. Deliberate. Panic. Statistics. Rumour. Boobs. To find out just what the hell I'm on about. Go Here. Boobs.

First Test - Day 4

Ahem. Never in Doubt.

The trend continues. The Aussies have won another Test Match inside four days. I'm conflicted over this. I like to spank all comers but I also love Test cricket so I'd like to get my five days worth. Of course that point's about as sharp as a bowling ball because I only watched about half an hour's worth this time.

However, on balance there's one undeniable fact. I hate it when we lose. No, really, I hate it. In the Mark Latham sense. Really. H-A-T-E. It's painful. For all of you out there who suffered through it, remember the 1980's. Night! Mare! Velcro shoe straps. Pastel shirts. Big hair. John Hughes. Fruit shampoo. Pet rocks. Chris Broad. Richard Hadlee. Larry Gomes. Ian Botham. Chris Tavare. John F**kin' Bracewell. Greg Ritchie. Oops.

Admittedly there have been some great matches in the last few years, however we mostly conspired to lose them. That's L-O-S-E. Means P-A-I-N. So, for all of You Out There who Long for a Contest just cool your jets and lap it up while we're winning. We'll be crap again someday. Our winning run won't last forever.

BUT! Forget all that. Here's the real story from last night....

[Gill Pie] received three LBW decisions from umpire Asoka de Silva - all of which appeared to be out....

When I read that I registered three reactions. All of which appeared to be surprise.



On first hearing the Cher song, Do You Believe, I shook my head in disbelief and said to myself; "That's the worst song I've ever heard!". Then there were the subsequent occasions I was unfortunate enough to cop an earful. Walking past women's clothing stores, strolling through airports, lunching in food courts. Each and every time I've felt personally insulted that I should be subjected such a poorly mixed, hideous caterwauling. I even felt sorry for her fans. Those poor deluded fools operating under the assumption they were purchasing another Cher Classic. A truly stomach turning stench of a song.

Now there's another rancid odour wafting across our airwaves. True Colours is a cover of the 1980's Cyndi Lauper teen dirge, and let's face it, the song stinks! It wasn't any good back then so there's no reason to believe it would be any better now. And it's not. It falls under the umbrella of what's odiously referred to as Adult Contemporary, a term which seems a euphemism for crap pop grown up, and it lives down to all the expectations that term conjures up. I heard it on the car radio last week and couldn't believe how bad it was. One line in I was yelling at the radio "This is TERRIBLE!" Never the less, I had to keep listening so I could find out who to warn mankind about and who to hold to account for the vengeance of future generations.

Remember this name, Kasey Chambers. Remember this phrase, throttling a Meerkat.

To be avoided at all costs!

UPDATE: Tim Blair & Wayne Wood have recently mentioned her moping.

First Test - Day 3



First Test - Day 2

I didn't get to see much of the Cricket Last Night. None in fact. The only bit I saw was seen through a Fog Of Hangover early this morning. Very disappointed. 1 for 285 becomes All Out 489. Once again Australia squander a brilliant start. Now they're 252 ahead when it should be 400 some time today.

252 ahead means that if, on this miniscule ground it's not impossible, Lara or Chanders can put together a big score Australia will be chasing a difficult target late in the game. Not a prospect I ever look forward to.

Now, what did I see this morning? Weeeelllllll, as soon as I sat down Gilchrist got out. Nothing new there. That happens nearly every time I turn on the radio or TV. He was Caught & Bowled Jermaine Jackson, err, Jamie Lawson, err Jermaine Lawson. Yep. That's him. A lame shot. Never the less he was once again the right man at the right time. Or as Brian Johnson would have said "Once again here's Gilchrist, righting the ship." I wonder if it would've attracted the same number of complaints as his; "Gower, righting the ship." Which was interpreted by the Test Match Special listeners as; "Gower, right in the s**t.

Anyhoo, back at the point, it wasn't Gilchrist's dismissal that caused a rumpus at Chez Grog, it was the bowler. Or more particularly his action. As soon as Lawson bowled the first ball I've seen him bowl the howl went up. "That's a throw!" I watched him closely for the remainder of his spell. He's definitely a chucker. But that ball to Gilchrist? Jesus H Sandy Koufax! Are they going to do away with the throwing rule? There doesn't seem any point to it?

Travis Bichel was handy too. He's turning into a savior of Dujonesque proportions.

Oh well, I'm off to join the Coalition Of The Swilling (11 Googlepages) at the pub and watch The Poys v The Handbags.


The News Of The World makes me laugh. It has headlines like THIS and articles about people like Nell. Nell and her Knickers of Mass Distraction



It didn't take long....Did anyone think it would?

Nightmare In Nasariya - The Jessica Lynch Story

Her Mum.

Her Dad.

Her Best Friend.

Her Pet Dog.

Her Wicked Aunt.

Her Rescuers.

First Test - Day 1

Cricket's back. Good. Starts at midnight. Bad. On holidays. Good. Only two weeks. Bad.

The Action Last Night reminded me of the recent World Cup of Benaud. Windies all out for 237, Aussies 1 for 120. Sounds like a Duckyloo result.

I predicted a 3-0 series win for the Aussies and saw nothing last night which altered that prediction. No Hooper. No Sarwan. No Crystal Gayle. Three of their best five batsmen missing. No Walsh. No Ambrose. No spinner. How are the Windies going to consistently bowl the Aussies out? Now there's no Jacobs. Lara is a shocking captain. If the Windies surprise he'll have made approximately 1,567 runs by serie's end.

Some observations from last night...

1) Smith - LB. Shocker. Not just an edge, it came off the middle of his bat. Almost.

2) Lara - LB. Ordinary. Clearly would have missed Off.

3) Chanders - LB. Shocker. Pitched outside Leg. Missing Off. Shocking shot.

4) Dillon - LB. Shocker. Apparently. Didn't see it. Anyone?

5) Rudy & The Sock - Four bad LB's in one day. Speaks for itself.

6) Tactics - Windies. None. Slogging's not a tactic. Aussies. Bowled sub OK. Batted better.

7) Magilla - Just me? Or, does he drop plenty off his own bowling?

8) Haydos - Bad run out.

9) Bourda Ground - My back yard is made of bricks but is softer. Probably bigger, too.

10) Pitch - Slow. May get difficult.

11) Craig McDermott Memorial Sea Wall - Bigger than I'd imagined.

12) David Hookes - Ease down Hook. You're not smart. Don't opine.

13) Jim Maxwell - No one left at the ABC? "Bowler runs in. Bowler bowls. Batsmen plays. MISSES! Not out. Ooooooh, that was close." No it wasn't. Settle the f**k down! Jim's idea of grenade punctuated commentary gives me heart trouble.

Prediction - Never make them until both teams have batted.



Lawyer guilty of Ambulance Chasing

A LAWYER who chased and abused two paramedics has been found guilty of offensive behaviour.

The lawyer in Hot Pursuit.


"I'll have the strap, ahhhhh, chocolate underpants and, ummmm, a bag of Mixed Dildos."

"We introduce couples to couples, singles to singles, singles to couples, every scenario that's possibly human....We have everyone from the normal working class man right up to lawyers and judges."

Couples to Couples? Couples to Singles? Lawyers to Humans? Possibly.



Virginia Trioli in another hard hitting interview with her mates in the Brunswick Street café set. This time it's some Green Fungus named Courtney regarding yesterday's Clown Antics on Sydney Harbour....

Caller - "How come the Greens were never around to protest the gassing of the Kurds, the murder of the Shi'ites and the murders in Bosnia. Not to mention Saddam's treatment of his own people?"

Trioli - "A good question. Courtney?"

Courtney - "Let's not forget the US armed Saddam."

Trioli - "Fair point. Thanks Courtney"

Whaddaya mean "Fair point"?!? Whaddabout - "That's not an answer!"

Where's David Marr?

Psst, just put it in the bottom draw

The Fraser Brown incident was the straw that broke the camel's back and allowed the AFL to finally expose the great Blue Sox Scandal of '02. Really though, it was only an official revelation and came as no surprise to a sceptical footy public that had long suspected the Carpetbaggers, sorry the Bluebaggers had been rorting the Salary Cap for years.

In fact, how it came about was sublimely simple. Based on his contract, Brown presented a claim for Superannuation to the AFL. Only trouble was, when the AFL looked at his contract they noticed it wasn't the same as the one Carlton had presented to the AFL. As Bingo used to say; "Oh-oh...It's Danger Island next!"! That set into motion a chain of events that saw Carlton spanked with all sorts of punishments and now they're just a Sour Grapes Bunch. "Tomato. Tomato. Tomato. Tomato. Tomato. Tomato." I digress.

Therefore, in light of those findings it comes as no surprise the AFL have insisted all players Cough Up The Goods to investigations officer, Ken Wood.

Also, Essendon have recently Had Their Problems with the AFL regarding Internet deals. Expect more to come of this as the AFL are no longer taking verbal agreements as proof of innocence . Let's face it, the Bombrés have said they had verbal advice from 'someone' at the AFL that the deals were kosha. If so, why not get it down on paper?

What else?....

At the end of last season, some clubs were struggling to fit their Total Player Payments (TPP) within the existing salary cap. The Football Manager of one of these clubs was desperate to sign a "Required Player" but also realised that the player's increased wage claim would have to be met.

Now, one way to provide a player with more money is to get him promotional work. This falls loosely outside the core strictures of the TPP. So, this manager agreed in principle that a total package of $500K would be acceptable. For this the player was going to get $400K from the club and $100K for promotional work.

However, this still left the club with little room to move when signing other required players. What did the Manager do? Simple. When the time came for the club to submit the TPP of the club to the AFL the manager presented a package of $300K salary and $200K promo. This would leave $100K available to satisfy another required player's wage claim.

When the President of the particular club heard of the arrangement he hit the roof and only some serious lobbying from the Football Dept (Coach, etc) allowed the Football Manager to keep his job.



Not Naughty

That other Tony, the one who occasionally blogs here, picked the wrong day to go gutter. See below. Cover eyes. Huh? Anyway, I wish he'd stop it because I just discovered this Refined Young Lady has linked to Chez Grog.

Whoa there! Did I say Not Naughty?!?

Just kidding Leesa.

Drop in. Say hello. She lives in Leeds. Or London. Or Liverpool. Or Luton. Lower Slaughter? So she'd welcome a chance to hear some English.

But Naughty

Warning: This post is rated AO. It contains a sex scene and a celebrity. So grab the kids and read along.

Just heard a juicy piece of gutter goss from a friend in Perth. No names. No circle-work. But it seems a footballer, I'll call him John, from either Wet Toast or the Purple Haze (Not telling which) has some extremely appreciative fans.

Seems John was approached by a generous supporter and asked if he would like to take up a temporary position with the supporter's wife. The catch being that the supporter scrutineer the deal. John, at first hesitant, finally said he'd like to meet the missus. On meeting the good lady, who turned out to be a fair piece talented business woman, John agreed to the deal and they all retired to the supporter's love shack office to conduct the etching related arrangement.

Later on, with negotiations proceding satisfactorily for all concerned, John was surprised to feel a tap on one cheek followed by the supporter's startling request; "Mind if I join in?".

At this point John politely declined to complete procedings.

It's certainly is a very tight knit community over there.



Muhammad Chemical Ali - I AM THE DEADEST!


Good Teacher!

Crazy Teacher!

Really Truly Crazy Teacher!



I've lost count of the number of times I've heard a reporter ponderously declare...

"Nothing's clear here. It's the fog of war. Back to you Kent."


"I can't find my Martini. It's the fog of war Kent. Back to you."


"It's very foggy here Kent. It's the fog of war."

Seems the Iraqi Information Minister, Mohammed Saed Al-Sahaf is a bit foggy on details too. Here He's Pictured wording up the world's media.

"I say! I say Boy! We killed..."


"...aallllll the Americans..."


"...and fed their..."


"...hands to Allah..."


"...and now there are no more..."


"...Americans in Baghdad!"


"What was that, Abdul?"


"Errrrr, a tank, your most excellent Excellency."


"See. I told you we're in control of the city."

You can't write that kind of material.


Last week I suggested Mark Latham might be the next ALP leader. Unfortunately a weekend of football & Knightrider intervened so I didn't get a chance to reply to the comments. I thought I'd put my response up here rather than hidden away in a comments box buried beneath David Hasselhoff.

Peter suggests we "all thank god it isn't up to you, then". I'm not picking him because I want Labor to win. I'm picking him for the theatre. The excitement factor. Because as Slatts acknowledged; "Yeah, bring on Latham. I like the bloke. He's mad. Barking, fist-chewing, rockin-on-his-haunches, crackers! Reminds me of Kennett." Too right! I've had enough of Slimey Simey. He's a stone bore stuck between a right and a left place. Bring on the dancing pandas.

Caz hints at some salacious alterior ulterior other motive; "I can see why you'd like Latham Tony - he's into hooters and drinking like your good self." True. I'm good. I'm a well bred solid citizen. One who adheres stridently to the Protestant work ethic. In the finest push-it-down traditions of my Do The Boys Hall upbringing I'm no wolf-whistling construction site yob. More a Whiskey Galore, Carry On Up The Capital fan. I'd not suggested Iron Mark because of his fondness for Cheers & Chest Puppies. I didn't even know he was a hooters man. Although boobs and beer are an attractive accessory and I'd like to belt the odd taxi driver. Some deserve it.

Jim, not out sculling XXXX with his fellow Benders, comes up with a sensible suggestion. In short; "Latham. Waste of talent! Bright bloke. Good ideas. Weird tactics. Grub. Muscling up. Rude word. Beazley."

For me that's it. I reckon Latham will lead the ALP at some stage and I reckon his ravings lately are part of an attack-dog strategy from head-office. Kind of like Rob Hulls. What they're not are the careless foot in mouth blurtings of a halfwit. Expect Latham to pull his head in when his time's nigh. And don't discount the arselicking cracks. "Ooh-err." Those kinds of things bite.

I'm thinking along the same lines as Jim. Uncle Buck Beasley will probably get the gig. He's the one most likely to minimise an electoral rout. He may even win if there are plenty of post war problems. Kruddler's a blandoid dweeb and blandoids need a bit of tooth on them before they're taken seriously. Wayne Swan's keeping shtum. And even during this latest hands-across-the-pond brouhaha, Craig Emerson can't crack a sit down with the Yanks.

Whichever way you look at it, Crean's out.



Sunday television? Bring back Epic Theatre!

On Channel 7 there's everywhere blowhard, Rex Hunt, and his travesty show, Footy For Fatheads. On Channel 9 there's Gary Lyon's slightly better, but still superficial, Footy For Pinheads. Channel 10's a no-go zone on ANY Sunday (Crap film, BTW) so I never bother tuning in. Bad pop, skateboards, motor racing and extreme cooking ain't my cup Pepsi Max. Dude. Channel 2 has that ridiculous wankfest whereby Fairfaxis of Evil smugheads sit around looking wise and nodding at each other. That's followed by a show about cows. I'd watch Lally Murray's Worrrrlllld Game of Phooooodboll, but reception in Tigerland means I can't see SBS through the snow.

Over on Foxtel there's news, sport, World War II and The Simpsons. You can miss them though, because they’re on all the time. Even when they're not. Work that one out. Foxtel also has the greatest disappointment in televisual history, UK TV. With all the great BBC shows there've been they end up showing Prisoner. Jesus.H.Re-run! It's not even British!

So. What did I end up watching? The classics, of course. Fox Classics. Kittnapped. Sly Stallone's Cliffhanger squeeze was in this episode. Before she became Maggie in Northern Exposure. At first I thought she was Dee Dee from Hunter.

Anyway, in case you didn't know, Kitt has....

1) Anharmonic Synthesizer
2) Auto Cruise
3) Auto Phone
4) Auto Roof Left
5) Auto Vac. System
6) Chemical Analysis
7) Convertible Mode
8) Emergency Braking System (x2)
9) Homing Signal
10) Map Search
11) Passive Laser Restraint System
12) Police Frequency
13) Super Pursuit Mode (x2)
14) Tinted Windows
15) Turbo Boost (x2)
16) Devon was gay

Tinted Widows?!? Sounds impressive. And, it gives me a chance to reprise the Greatest Picture Ever. And to mention one of the funnier moments from 90's TV....

In an early episode of Baywatch, Mitch and the gang had to stop a band of hoodlums who robbed LA banks and made their getaways in a souped up DUKW. After Mitch and the Babesquad had predictably thwarted the watery malefactors one of Mitch's gormless offsiders was tooling around in the super schwim-wagon....

Offsider - "Mitch! This thing's great. It's got a sat-com, GPS, chocolate armour, white pointer detector, super-hi-ya-charger, double overhead cam doorhandles and a killer stereo!"

Mitch - "Yeah, but does it talk?"

Encore! Author!



I'll just point out that although GP linked to me this morning, this isn't some sad I-should-do-the-proper-thing reciprocity post.

It's simply a nod of agreement that Gaz made some Solid Points on picking up Kerry O'Brien with the PM Last Monday. I was amazed when Kezza tried on this low stunt....

KERRY O'BRIEN: "I don't imagine we look to Saddam Hussein for ethics, Prime Minister, but I hope we look to Australia, America and Britain for ethics."

This cheap jibe was accompanied by the kind of shit-eating smirk any sixth grade debating club loser would have been proud of. I almost expected him to sneer; "Ewwww, Mr Howard's got pooh on his shoe."

To his credit the PM didn't let Green Pen get away with his tawdry snipe....

JOHN HOWARD: "Don't try to score that point".

And went on to convincingly make his point. Again. Cop that Obie!

There's no doubt Howard's completely on top of his game at the moment and with every public appearance puts Slimey Simey further into the shade. I find it almost impossible to believe there won't be a challenge sometime in the near future.

If I was up to me, I'd pick Mark Latham.



"Whoa! Get a load o' Them Apples!"

"You're really packin' 'em in there, darlin'!" "KYAK! KYAK! KYAK!"


"Tolstoy?!? Who's Tolstoy?!?"

Time for a new strategy. War Skools and Peace Skools.

All those teachers who want to teach the curriculum and allow students to make up their own minds can teach at schools like Melbourne High....

....which has banned teachers and students from discussing the war in Iraq except in special circumstances where the issue forms part of a particular subject.

As it should be. Not....

Teacher - "Johnny, what's the integral of Sine?"

Johnny - "Oil, Sir."

Teacher - "Oil, Johnny?"

Johnny - "It's all about oil, Sir."

Conversely, all those who'd like to fill the kiddy's heads with their own prejudiced nonsense can teach at schools like Sydenham-Hillside Primary....

The children at Sydenham-Hillside Primary School traipsed in after lunch, sweaty-browed and frowning. Earlier that morning, in Spira Antonopoulos's class, someone read out a list of war casualties. There would have to be a discussion.

Spira - "Now children. Face the back wall."

On the back wall is pinned a skeleton and on butcher's paper, dangling from the ceiling, is an impressive list of im- words: impetuous, impersonal, impair, imposter, implore.

Spira - "Discuss. Discuss. Discuss. Discuuussssss. You are getting sleeeee...."

Manpreet said the Americans were after oil.

Manpreet? Sounds like some sort of parrot. "Oil. Oil. Oil." Yep.

Which neatly brings me to last Monday when one of my students, John Fail, who's not 10 years old like Manpreet but 18, asked me....

JF - "Sir, do you support the war?"

TT - "Sorry, John. This is a maths class. It's got nothing to do with the war."

JF - "C'mon, Sir. We want to know what you think."

TT - "No can do John. Now, get on with your work."

JF - "You don't know anything about it, do you Sir?"

TT - "Don't be silly John."

JF - "I think George Bush is an idiot Sir."

TT - "Why's that John?"

JF - "He just is."

TT - "That's very clever John. Tell me, what's his middle name?"

JF - "Aww. I dunno."

TT - "What state was he governor of?"

JF - "Aww Sir. I dunno."

TT - "Do you know anything about him John?"

JF - "Not much Sir. He's a dickhead."

TT - "Get on with your work John."


So many questions. So many issues. So many problems. So few solutions. Fortunately, if it all gets too difficult I can seek the wise guidance of My Union.

NB: Once again, names have been changed to protect the guilty.


As usual, Slatts Succinctly Points Out Saddam's Suck-up is in turn being sucked up to by Steven Mayne, Neil Mitchell and Ross Stevenson. He got off fairly lightly with Hinchy too. At least Dezza was prepared to be critical.

Thought I'd better remind readers that the Bagdad Rat works for Southern Cross Broadcasting who employ Mitchell, Stevenson & Hinch. Don't expect any strenuous criticism of Arnett while he's reporting for 3AW and 2UE.

As for Steven Mayne? He deems it a "grim day for war journalism". Personally I think it's a grim day for war journalism when, in the pursuit of hand-outs, a reporter is prepared to be critical of his own side. Especially when he knows those hand-outs are merely state sponsored spin.

As Arnett personally acknowledged; "There's a small island, inhabited in the South Pacific that I will try to swim to. I'll leave, I'm embarrassed." So ewe should be! Ewe can go home now!

NB: Slatt's post isn't properly embedded yet. When you get there, go Here Instead.


Tony’s tired! Those four-day weekends are tough. And now it's term's end and I've got exams to mark!

Still having fun though….

Took a maths exam yesterday. As usual I sent the dumb shlubs (Dumber now I'm teaching them) to a break with the intention of starting at 9:30. They all darted off to the canteen oblivious to the fact that I was about to employ a Weapon of Mass Instruction. While they were off stuffing their faces with donuts, dim sims and diet drink, I was merrily erasing the memories from their programmable calculators.

The first one I came to belonged to a serial neveracheiver called Wayne Kerr (Say it fast). As I opened his calculator, out slipped a small piece of paper. I picked up a beautifully printed and colour coded cheat sheet. Most of the formulae diligently reproduced so that Wayne could hold it in his palm. A little later it occurred to me that he might have more mini assistants hidden away. Yep. Inside his pencil case was a list of algebraic procedures. On the underside of his ruler was a list of all the Trig functions.

When they came back I had them clear the desks of all bags, paper, pencil cases and loose objects. This took a couple minutes. Meanwhile Wayne was looking for his ruler. He hadn't yet put his pencil case away, but I could see him hoping I wouldn't notice it.

WK - "Sir, I've lost my ruler."

TT - "That right Wayne? Here you go, you can borrow mine."

WK - "But I need mine."

TT - "Why's that? Different scales on your's?"

WK - "Ummm, I’m used to mine. It's....." He suddenly realised I wasn't looking at him. I was LOOKING at him. Eyes wide. Shut's up. Grabs pencil case. Opens. Looks up.

At me brandishing his ruler.

The rest of the class caught on. "Sprung! You're gonna fail! Sucker! Ha Ha!"

I told him I could have left the cheat sheets in place and sprung him during the test. That would have meant instant fail. However, I was in a good mood and felt like enjoying the knowledge that he'd have to sit there and do the test and still fail. (24%)

More fun was in store. About ten minutes in, the first programmer, Richard Head, started furiously punching his buttons.

TT - "Problem Dick?"

Dick - "No.........Awwwww, Siiiiiirrrrrr! I'll fail"

TT - "Yes. You will." He did. 9%. I'm surprised he could program his calc.

Good times!

NB: Names changed to protect the guilty.


IS Blogger down a lot, or does it just SEEM that way?