SEE! SEE! I warned you! I warned you! Look what happens when you make me listen to the ABC after midnight! I turn into Magro Kingspit.

Via Egg Poisonous.

Nice Jugs!

Doesn't the Holiday Girl look happy? That'll soon change if she keeps listening to Britpop's answer to Leonard Cohen.


Of course you are! You're reading this. Well, that's enough of the gratuitous faux-modesty self-putdowns. Go and Kick A Head instead. And you might want to turn the volume down. It can get annoying.

Via Fred Trueman's Ball Tamperer.


Remember Tim? He's the New Goalie at Man.U. We know we're not supposed to laugh at other's misfortune. But whaddaya know? We do.

Still Do. C'mooooooon. She's not real.

Via Boynton.


Come On Down!


Taliban banana....


(Warning - Long Load)


QF 1737


Two passengers were also treated by paramedics at the scene for minor injuries.

Hopefully received while "detaining" Knife Guy.


Body in Cemetary!

HOMICIDE detectives are investigating a bizarre murder mystery after the gruesome discovery of a body....at a suburban cemetery.


The man was slumped face up....

Face up? Not something you hear everyday. Roll him over!

PS: My mother's buried there, so they better not wake her up! Don't think I could deal with a Zombie mum.


Well, he DID wear a Dress!

And if you can't get a Punch Line out of the Last Line, you're just not trying.

Update: That'd be, "Morning Thaviour"



Manchester United have signed a New Goalie. Here's a quick grab from the press conference....

"It's great to be DUMB F****N' REPORTER! here at Man.U. It's the biggest club in the F**K! S**T! ENGLAND SUCKS! world and it's a life's dream to work with a great manager like BITCH! F**K! FAT! SLAG! Alex Ferguson.

Barely noticable. Apparently the last bit wasn't a random verbal outburst.


Southbank Boulevard. Not Here!


Apparently I ain't got none! But I done got 14!


New South Neddies can always be relied upon to boast about how much better Sydney is than Melbourne. But we're Catching Up!




"Haa Ha!"

Adam writes....

Blogger were kind enough to actually show me my real template today. So it's welcome to Angela Bell and Michael Jennings as well as a belated update of all the people who have jumped ship from Blogger in the last few months. When will I be running away from Blogger you ask? When I actually get my wallet out, buy a domain name and work out how in god's name Moveable Type works[.] [Ed]
Never! I'm loyal to the last.
Posted 10:45 AM by Adam

ECHO. WITHout the buying bit. And WITH the "How the hell do I take my archives with me? They're my friends. Someone? Anyone?

Oh, and I forgot about Angela too. And Sedgewick! He's a lefty. A VICTORIAN lefty. That makes him particularly crazy! Crazy in a safari suit! But OUR crazy!


Rejoice! Time to pig out! Ham's back!....

Cr Yigit said the decision to ban pork and ham had been made in good faith. "The idea was to make people feel inclusive...."

....by being exclusive. However, in recent developments....

Chief executive Diane Sisely said "It is not Muslims who are calling for a ban on particular foods, nor is it Muslims who create a fuss each Christmas about nativity plays and Christmas carols"

Cross out Xmas!

Update: Ban The Bunny Too....

Mr Bracks assures us that, contrary to rumour, the law won't compel schools to ban Christmas or Easter celebrations. Nor will they have to change Christmas parties to include other religions.

When this government rules out a rumour you know that rumour's only a moment away from becoming a fact; "Tolls are a scurrilous rumour started by the opposition."


No sympathy from this devil. Especially for a Self Inflicted Wound....

....an inadequate band-aid applied to what is increasingly becoming a weeping sore on the integrity of the AFL premiership....the AFL and the MCC are bracing for what could be one of the most farcical episodes in finals history.....finals "banking" agreement....The "banking" agreement....the likelihood that in "banking" a final....exercise the "banking" option....the "banking" agreement reached in 2001.....

The AFL. A pack of bankers?



They were talking up this great rumour on Radio Three-ore this morning. Something about an email from a cricketer in the West Indies to a friend back in Australia. Obviously they don't read the AGBSTOP. Or Crikey. Or the Sunday Herald Sun.

If you feel like it, send 'em an email. Get 'em up to speed. Tell 'em we're on top of it. Just address it to Ross or John. Or both.



Today's Item 13....


Andrew Bolt's Tirade in today's Herald Sun was a complete hatchet job on Phillip Adams. It might have interested the readers of Quadrant but was completely irrelevant to Bolt's battling readers.
Ironically, Bolt claimed that Adams focuses on elite things that people don't care about. By devoting all this space to fighting ancient ideological warfare, Bolt is doing exactly the same thing.
Bolt begins by chronicling what he believes to be Adams' professional demise, from his high profile role in the Adams-Packer films of the 1980s, to his current position on a low-rating late-night ABC radio show.
He is critical of Adams' beliefs and says, "olive farm socialists like Phillip, are busier fighting for mythical 'refugees' in a mythical Woomera 'concentration camp' than fighting for real Australian battlers in Dandenong."
Adams stands for everything Bolt despises, but today Bolt is crowing over that fact that Adams "is being disowned by the Left".
Bolt welcomes what he calls, "new attacks on Phillip from important players within his Labor Party," and he cites a Labor lunch with Kim Beazley two years ago and comments from Mark Latham to support his claims.
Bolt clearly regards the Labor snub as the final nail in the coffin for Adams. "He is suddenly being held up by Left-wing modernisers as a symbol of what's wrong, not just with their movement, but with Labor in particular."
Bolt even goes on to criticise Adams for fighting passionately for the issues in which he believes. He says, "Phillip and his kind mount their crusades in which the invariable rule is to feel good by calling everyone else, and our society, evil."
Funnily enough Bolt does not recognise that the same could be said of he and his crusades against the Left.
Adams regards Bolt as one of his three stalkers - the other two being Tim Blair and Imre Salusinszky. It is interesting that Imre and Bolt were both sacked by Radio National after failing to cut it when they were put up as the right wing Phillip Adams two years back.
Chris Mitchell, the Commo-bashing editor-in-chief of The Oz, then hired Imre to write leaders and columns.
We suspect that Imre was responsible for this Anti-ABC Editorial in last Thursday's Oz.
Given that it calls for Radio National to be abolished, it does raise the issue as to whether Imre had a conflict and was just grinding an axe because he and Blair failed to rate on Radio National and were "not renewed".
And don't forget that Radio National has more listeners than 3AW, 2GB or 2UE and that Phillip Adams is the station's biggest "switch on" factor.
Finally, Bolt does appear to land a blow on Adams for his hazy memory about exactly how long he was a member of the Communist Party. It will be interesting to see if Adams responds.

I thought Bolt stalked John Faine and Tim Blair tag-stalked with Imre on Abe Nat?


This just in from Brown Bag Crikey. It's PERHAPS the e-mail revealed last week in the hallowed pages of the After Grog Blog Star Times Observer Picayune. Perhaps? You decide.

First Crikey's Item 11....

This is the email purportedly from promising Australian batsman Michael Clarke which has been causing plenty of ructions in the cricketing world but was dismissed as "a cruel hoax" by Danny Weidler in his Sun-Herald column on Sunday:

-----Original Message-----
From: Michael Clarke
Sent: Thursday, 22 May 2003 10:44 AM
T Damon Smith
Subject: Hi from Kingston

Damo, thanks for the email mate. I'm looking forward to the upcoming game and another opportunity to give it a real go. The injuries have been fortunate for me and I'll see how it goes.

I hope the hysteria from the McGrath-Sarwan affair has blown over at home. I couldn't believe the coverage it got, all for one little blow-up. The offending lines, which you may have heard, were:

McGrath: "What does Lara's c*ck taste like?"

Sarwan: "I don't know, why don't you ask you're wife."

There were a few smirks from the boys, who do acknowledge witty remarks whether from
them or the opposition, but Pidge wasn't in a rational frame of mind. He was very sheepish
that night, but even he was surprised at the reaction from home.

The Lara blow-ups on day two were much funnier. Brian Lara lost the plot worse than McGrath on the second day in Antigua, but I suppose it's not as newsworthy unless the Australians are playing up.

Lara was like a madman, blowing up at Haydo, Lehmann, Alfie and Tugga in one morning. Lara, not for the first time, had been out late the night before and was ticked off when the boys started making jokes about being able to smell alcohol on the field.

He started yelling "shaaadup" to the slips cordon, who made him angrier by laughing. But he flipped his lid at the drinks break when one of the boys told the drinks attendant to get Lara a beer. He is a weird bloke.

Anyway, hope everything is going great for you mate and that you aren't circuiting too much without me. Mum and Dad say hi as well.

See ya rockstar!


CRIKEY: Just goes to show how easy it is to set something alight on the web. This hoax is pretty deceptive because the dates, and nicknames are right and it all sounds quite plausible. But Clarkey has told Danny Weidler that he didn't do it so that's the end of it.

Once again our erstwhile organ of record has selflessly submitted itself to laboratory experimentation to prove "Just how easy it is to set something alight on the web". And again there's golden mould growing out of our Inbox petrie dish!

Of a revealing scientographic nature, is the following....

Let's assume Crikey have edited the phallic expletive in an attempt to both mollify the impact of and remove the ambiguity therein of this less than delicate phraseology on their significantly larger readership. Regular Picayune perusers need a strong stomach but do know their c***s from their c*cks.

However, Crikey's obscena-polishing doesn't explain the other difference between the Crikey version of Clarkey's letter and the one published in last Friday's AGBSTOP. If you look closely it's easy to spot. See it yet? No? Come on! It's not Where's Waldo!

Crikey = Weird......AGB = Wierd.

Hmmmm. Very wei...naaaaa, just kidding. Even I wouldn't try that one on. Let's just call it strange.

Not only that, the email I received has no gap between the two on field ripostes. Crikey's does. As does mine. I changed mine for dramatic effect. Can't answer for Crikey. Crikey's is also addressed T Damo. Wei Odd!

So what do we have?

1) Crikey - T Damo, Weird, Space.
2) AGBSTOP - To Damo, Wierd, Space.
3) Original - To Damo, Wierd, No space.

Our conclusion? No hoax! Michael Clarke wrote THREE emails!


The other day my dad went to a fund raiser for the Royal Flying Doctor Service. It was at the Hilton Hotel, or Hilton on the Park as it's now trendily called. This official pass-the-hat/write-a-cheque sheebang consisted of a lunch and demonstrations of the RFDS's capabilities. There was a video hook-up to Peter Cosgrove in Tyndall. There was another hook-up with the RFDS base in Perth where they got to witness, third hand, a day at the coalface. Button pressing, radio calling. Control room stuff. And of course, guests were treated to a time honoured standard at these affairs, a selection of either pressed chicken or beef curry, creme brulei and a bad Chardonnay.

Each table consisted of four pairs of people accompanied by an RFDS operative. In the case of my dad's table, a paramedic from the UK who worked out of somewhere in Queensland. Chartersminkamulla or somewhere just as inaccessible. Or unpronouncable.

The lunch was progressing apiece and a fine time was being had by all. Dad, a retired engineer, particularly enjoyed the insight into the inner-workings of the Perth base but was also impressed by Peter Cosgrove. He remarked that the General would make a fine Governor General. All he needed to do was add a word. Funny guy, my dad. I diligently steered away from there though, but not without the passing aside that there's probably been the odd unrevealed sexual harassment case in the army too.

Never the less, what wasn't expected, but seemed wholy appropriate, was a first-hand demonstration of the paramedic's finely honed medical skills. You see, no sooner had they started to pass the Port (Right to Left) than one of the oldsters at dad's table had a heart attack. Stooged? Dad thought not. Mrs Oldster didn't seem too chuffed. The Para sprung into action, performing CPR and serving coffee all at once. He also called for emergency assistance. I nearly wrote back-up but it occurred that I've only ever seen cops do that. In movies too, so it must be true. The assistance promptly arrived in the form of one of Melbourne's finest Low Flying Urban Support Vehicles. To whit, the old timer, older than my dad that is, was ferried away to the Alfred Hospital where it's since been reported he's doing fine.

Pretty much as comprehensive a display of the Service's capabilities as could have been provided. Short of an Air Ambulance flying in the window, that is. They even got to keep the ornate souvenir menu.



Big news. Well, it must be, they cut into the footy. The GG just resigned. No Tim Webster! Not re-SIGNED! Just when the outragists were about to gear up for a good week of whinge.

Labor's been campaigning to get rid of him for ages, in fact it's one of the few things they've been able to get their teeth into. Now they'll have to change down a gear to "He should have gone sooner!" In my opinion this'll hold no sway with the voters who'll just be glad to see the end of it all.

As far as Coalition implications are concerned, Lindsay Tanner seems to have provided a circuit breaker for the PM's connection so the question arises. Where to for the opposition now their main target is out of the picture?

UPDATE: Slimey's into the PM for not backing his man. He's absolutely spot on if "not backing his man" translates as "supporting the GG for well over a year". Strange guy the Slimer. And he's already rolling out the "Too - Late - Should - Have - Been - Sooner" line. Peter Beattie thinks it's sad but "Won't be drawn" into criticism. Likes an each-way bet doesn't he? The ABC seems concerned with whether the replacement GG is a woman/ethnic. Hettie Johnson thinks its a great day. Something about vindication. She reminds me of Salim "The Rat" Malik when Mark Waugh and Shane Warne admitted taking slings. Shocking woman!


When the Beatles came to Australia they did so on the back of a pre-Beatlemania deal. They weren't happy about the payments but they never the less honoured their obligation to tour here. The point is, they, or maybe Brian Epstein, had signed a contract. Either way they'd entered into an agreement to serve up a series of concerts around this here wide brown land. Like it or not, they had to come. And they did.

Now we're faced with a similar situation here in football central. The Melbourne Cricket Club (MCC) who manages the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG) has signed a contract with the Australian Football League (AFL) that stipulates there must be one game in each week of the finals up until 2032.

In Week 1 games can be swapped with interstate venues should four interstate clubs win the right to host one. Possible but not probable because this would mean four interstate clubs fill the positions 1, 2, 5 & 6. These are the required finishing positions to host finals in Week 1. However, should this happen, as is possible this year with six out of eight interstate clubs in the final eight, (Won’t last, Sydney won’t make it) then the MCG can put a final "in the bank". In other words, they get the right to claim an extra game the following year. This game would come at the expense of Telstra No-Dome which would have to give up a final the following year to satisfy the terms of the MCC/AFL contract. Granted interstate clubs could once again fill positions 1, 2, 5 & 6 but mathematically this is highly unlikely. Never the less I concede it may happen but it's a bridge we don't yet need to cross. And anyway, it’s also possible Victorian teams could fill these positions and thus put the game ledger back into the blue in one hit.

In Week 2 two teams are eliminated and two teams have a bye as a result of the previous week’s games. Therefore there are only two games and so the situation becomes more focused. Twice West Coast (1996 & 1999) and once Adelaide (2002) have had to travel to the MCG on the back of a higher ladder finish than their opposition. With only two games there is also less latitude to put aside games for subsequent years. There is a clause that allows the MCC to claim an extra game in Week 1 but thus far they have chosen to exercise their right to host a Week 2 final.

The week that seems to cause the most angst it Week 3 when the Preliminary Finals are played. Last year it could have been even more pronounced should Melbourne have beaten Adelaide in their semi final. Melbourne would have then played Port Adelaide at the MCG after Port finished on top of the ladder and Melbourne finished sixth. However, the MCC consider this a big weekend and therefore are reluctant to give up a game they have the rights to.

Week 4 is Grand Final Week and there is never any debate that the Grand Final will be played in Melbourne. Everyone accepts that the Grand Final will be played at the MCG for however long the MCC wants it.

In yesterday’s Australian Via Patrick Smith raised the issue once again. If you manage to hear him on radio or see him on TV you’ll see him raise it again before the end of the season. He’s not alone, however, on each occasion there has been a chorus of moaning from the aggrieved club, the AFL and other sections of the media. Mike Sheehan is the lead football writer at the Hun and he too has been very vocal.

Surely though, there’s not an issue. The AFL, not we hope, a drunken Yarra Park hobo, signed the contract. Interestingly, in 2000 both the AFL and the MCC came together and re-ratified the contract to the satisfaction of both parties.

Why won’t the MCC change their mind though?

1) There’s no guarantee Collo Dome would give up a final without a fight. It’s AFL headquarters and is constantly running at a loss so it want’s ”Product” too. However, the AFL is on the record as stating the swap would be on, but where’s the proof? We know the AFL is riddled with compromising deals and seems to operate on a day to day ad hoc basis. Who’s to say they mightn’t have an excuse to hold a game at Collo-Dome regardless of the situation with the MCC.

2) They don’t believe in the ”They earned it” notion. There was a potential squeal in the air when Port Adelaide realised they may have to play a match at the MCG. But HAD they earned it? The MCC would argue they had in fact LOST it by losing to Collingwood in Week 1 of the finals. Adelaide also knew at the start of the season that they had to finish in positions 1 or 2 to guarantee a home final through weeks 1 and 2 and finish on top and win Week 1 if they wanted a home Preliminary Final. All teams know the lie of the land, as does the AFL. After all they signed and revisited the contract. It wasn’t sprung on the interstate teams at the last minute. Ultimately their destiny is in their own hands. You finish on top and win once and you’ve got no problem.

3) The MCC need their own ”product”. The AFL have siphoned off a lot of big drawing games to No-Dome. They’ve got to hang on to what they’ve got.

4) They signed a contract with the AFL and they firmly believe they are acting within their rights to host a final each week. The stadium could mount a reasonable argument that ALL finals should be played there since it is the home of footy. There’s no argument in the NRL. After Week 2 they just play all the games in Sydney no matter who’s in it.

However, there’s hope for ALL US MCC MEMBERS. From the tone of Smith’s article it would appear he’s given up on a change of policy from the MCC. ”The AFL and public combined have one last play to make” Not sure why he’s tried to include the Victorian public in the equation. We want the final here. However, he can’t resist a typical jibe/soft gambit.

Just say that Fremantle and Port Adelaide were forced to play their preliminary final at the MCG. And only 30,000 people turned up. A crowd of a measly 30,000 might just shame the MCC to change its mind and the contract. It is football's only hope.

Shame who? The crowd goes TO the MCG not the other way around. If they don’t want to watch Port v Freo it’s not going to worry the MCC. They still get their final. It’s the AFL who has the problem. A problem of their own making. A problem they could have tried to rectify a couple years back. Perhaps they should invite ex Channel Nine honcho David Leckie, who signed away the rights to final’s telecasts, to peruse all their future contract signings.

All I know is I’ll be walking the 200 metres from my front door. Through the turnstiles without having to line up or pay. Then sitting wherever I like, draped over five empty seats, drinking coffee, eating hot dogs and thumbing my nose at all the interstate clubs stewing at the unfairness of it all and who seem to think they have a divine right to have a final at home. Ha Ha! Don’t get mad, come visit. It’s a nice place. A great ground. A fine spectacle. You’ll enjoy it. I might even buy you a beer.



"I work for Dick Jones!"

Sorry. Just slipped out. I'm watching a film.


"Over there, over there,

Send the word, send the word, over THERE!"

Via Cohan Blog.


Speaking of which, what's the chance of a bloke winning THIS?


Yesterday's little article gave us today's big one.

Race Rows. Local councils. Discrimination. Progress Associations? Lawyers. Pork. Short of sex, the lot!

MUSLIMS could be caught in the middle of a legal and racial row over Hume Council's controversial ham ban....And they warn it is almost certain to spark racial tensions likely to adversely affect Muslims.

Can you imagine it? Poor Mohammed's walking down Sydney road when a red Torana SLR500 tools past and a drunken bogan pokes his ugly face of racism out the window. He's got a can of VB in one hand and a bent PJ Extra Mild in the other. Through brown teeth he screeches; "YOU DON'T EAT HAM!" Yow! That hurts! What an evil swine pig genius!

And what about Graeme Marr who....

said Hume's pork ban denied him the right to enjoy his food of choice.

What's the bet he's had a building approval disallowed.

On second thoughts, you know something? I'm not going to bother. Give it to Bolt. I'd intended to have a lash. I was back at the end of my run-up, ball polished and ready for action. If I couldn't get some lift out of this pitch then I wasn't trying. Then it hit me. It's stupid. It doesn't need me. It speaks for itself.



The bugger with Blogger seems even worse this morning, if that's at all possible. I've had three goes at posting this blog, my hits are way down and I've only been able to access two Blogger sites. The rest have knocked me back. If anyone manages to get through to here and reads this message can they please respond with smoke signals. Or leave a comment.


This just in. Make up your own mind.

-----Original Message-----
From: Michael Clarke
Sent: Thursday, 22 May 2003 10:44 AM
To: Damon Smith
Subject: Hi from Kingston

Thanks for the email mate. I'm looking forward to the upcoming game and another opportunity to give it a real go. The injuries have been fortunate for me and i'll see how it goes. I hope the hysteria from the McGrath-Sarwan affair has blown over at home. I couldn't believe the coverage it got, all for one little blow-up. The offending lines, which you may have heard, were:

McGrath - "What does Lara's c*** taste like?"

Sarwan - "I don't know, why don't you ask you're wife."

There were a few smirks from the boys, who do acknowledge witty remarks whether from them or the opposition, but Pidge wasn't in a rational frame of mind. He was very sheepish that night, but even he was surprised at the reaction from home. The Lara blow-ups on day two were much funnier.

Brian Lara lost the plot worse than McGrath on the second day in Antigua, but I suppose it's not as newsworthy unless the Australians are playing up. Lara was like a madman, blowing up at Haydo's, Lehmann, Alfie and Tugga in one morning. Lara, not for the first time, had been out late the night before and was ticked off when the boys started making jokes about being able to smell alcohol on the field. He started yelling "Shaaadup!" to the slips cordon, who made him angrier by laughing. But he flipped his lid at the drinks break when one of the boys told the drinks attendant to get Lara a beer. He is a wierd bloke.

Anyway, hope everything is going great for you mate and that you aren't ciruiting too much without me. Mum and Dad say hi as well.

See ya rockstar!

BTW, who the hell knows what ciruiting is?


Sorry Fatso. Off the menu. And there'll be no more cracks about snouts in the trough either because the Hume City Council is no longer Big on Pig. Why do they have to ban the ham? Just put shiftakofteshazgoat on the menu. Wonder if you can still get a hamburger?

By the way, what about beer?



Tell us! Don't hold back! What ARE the others???

Parte the Seconde

Speaking of how hard people work (see below), I had to go in for a hearing test today. Phew! Tough gig! 10 Bloody 50. 10 of 11 for you grammatically challenged Amerikanskis. I had to get out of bed at Kwaaarta aaafta ten! Rough. Coffee please. Hot. Black. Strong.

The test was one of those daunting examinations of stamina where they lock you in a soundproof booth, in a soundproof caravan, in a soundproof garage. Think Russian dolls. They then fire various low intensity beeps down your lughole. After an arduous 5 minutes of listening for beeps, bleeps and boops, and in response pushing a large black button I went for a cup of tea and a jam tarte. I needed it.

As I approached the common room I could hear the unmistakably dulcet tones of your common & room Education Department tea break conversation….

"Kennett's a BEEP! Howard's a BEEP! Costello's a BEEP! Reith's a BEEP!" Get the drift? No? Well, BEEP you!

Anyhoo, as soon as I walked in the door there was an audible "Shhhh! That'll do." There followed a collective sense of discomfort as the room decided on an appropriate topic to change to. A Donald Duck style I-wonder-if-he-noticed (No whistling) sang froid accompanied this subtle change. When finally conversation returned to the room the salient themes went something along the lines of "Chomp. Munch. Smack. Slurp." Not much change there, you might think.

Unfortunately for the rest of us, the school’s self-appointed knower of everything there is to know (and a little bit more) didn’t get the hint. He’s probably never been able to get used to the notion there’s a Right in the ranks.

Now, what you need to know about K.All is that he thinks he’s funny. Hmmm, I suppose he may be, a hearty round of stentorian guffaws DOES accompany every blistering witticism. His. Trouble is, he hasn’t realised his double overhead cam with air-conditioning ready to drive away gagwriter, The Man With No Ink, is not funny either. A sample….

”Abdul Kennett beeped it up! Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Abdul. Get it?” Nope!

”Eyebrows Howard beeped it up! Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Eyebrows. Get it?” Ungggg!

”Quarter Pounder beeped it up! Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Quarter Pounder. Get it?” Yes. K. Very funny. For the uninformed Q.P is K’s nickname for the Head of School whose name is the same as an international fast food chain that doesn’t end in Chicken or King. Get it? No? Well BEEP you again!

Why they bother trying to hush up this kind of material is beyond me. Beyond even Steven Hawking and Albert Einstein for that matter. I’m not about to engage him in ”debate” anyway! To quote that time-honoured witticism on the common room wall….

”How can you soar like an eagle when you’re working with idiots.” Or something.

Sadly, about now (Ten of One), K's finally realised everyone left the room two hours ago and all that time he'd been talking to the fridge. I think I can hear it groaning.



Jaysus! I can't believe how hard some people work! On the other hand....

Need some financial guidance? Well, don't go here! Or here! Or here! Or here! Or here! Learning aides? Buy Lego instead! Environmental advice? Buy a pot-plant! Need a phone? "Please hold. We value your business and we'll be with you as soon as one of our consultants is available." Sur. Prise! Cue the music!

When I got home tonight there were 75 emails in my inbox. The majority of which related to the following significant workplace issue....

"Name the 20 past & present AFL players who have had hyphenated surnames...."

1 Arthur BARR-KEMP
6 Danny DEL-RE

And how come you bone-idle, big-money, fat-cat, gouge merchants forget first year Docker hyphen, Leigh Wardell-Johnson. Lord help us! Not content with bludging on the boss-clock you can't even get the question right!



Today in the Australian there's an item from Patrick Smith (They haven't updated yet) about the Imbroglio at Hawthorn. In it he criticises the attempt to blame Hawk skipper Shane Crawford for the present problems besetting the family club. In Smith's words….

"Now, to suggest this is because Crawford has thespian ambitions which he displays on a segment in the Footy Show is to sense a group of players, and even a board, who are desperately trying to blame everyone bar themselves for their apathy.".

I agree. To blame the best-prepared player in the league for his team's troubles is plainly ludicrous. That’s right! Name me a fitter footballer! Especially when it revolves around his part-time (Reported as half an hour a week) theatrics.

Crawford's a player that any club in the league would love to have. What's more he's about the only person at Hawthorn busting a gut to get the club over the line each week. Granted, by some convoluted Napoleon Bonaparte meets Quentin McHale hyperformula he mightn't be the best captain in the league, but there's no one else at Hawthorn who stands out who could do the job better. And no-one else there who works anywhere near as hard at his game. Even last week when the Hawks were smashed by Essington, he got the most possessions. So, enough Crawford bashing please. It ain’t his fault.

However, it's not about Crawford I'm primarily concerned. In fact I don't give a toss if they come bottom. I hate Hawthorn and the nasty membership-card burning, gap-toothed, drooling simpletons who call themselves Hawthorn fans. They've been spoilt! They've had it too good! In my lifetime they've had more success than any other club has. So, a few years on the bottom won't hurt them. And if does? If they go out of business? Shrug. So what! More money for the rest of the Melbourne clubs.

Nope, Hawthorn's not the issue. You may think otherwise, but no, Hawthorn ain’t my problem. True! That present position is firmly occupied by the Footy Show’s "satirical?", House Of Bulger, and to a lesser extent the pathetic dream schtick they dished up on the Sunday Footy Show. The one hosted by media puppet Gary Lyon. Please! Let Lou Richards rest in peace. Whaddaya mean; "He's not dead yet?" He sure looks it.

To paraphrase Isaac Newton after the football landed on his head; ”WHY?”

Now it's true, I hardly ever watch the Footy Show now. Players mumbling club doctored cliches is neither informative, intelligent or entertaining. Neither is Eddie spruiking Collingwood. Nor Sam Newman dressing up as a drunk. Or mocking morons. Or the incessant shilling of mobile phones, cars, airlines or personal promotional products. Usually bad sporting books/biographies. Or collections of sporting jokes. The show lacks spontaneity and has become unfunny, over-blown and full of it's own self-importance. Continually (as ever with Nine) mistaking, or maybe not caring about, ratings for quality.

Ask yourself why the laughter always sounds the same. Or why the cheers are always the same. Do you think it’s because Spider Everitt has just delivered a riposte worthy of Wilde? Luke Darcy a caustic put-down Dorothy Parker would envy? Of course not. There’s a cheer leader. They virtually don’t let you in unless you sign a contract directing you to laugh/cheer on-cue. Let me spell it out. S-t-u-d-i-o A-u-d-i-e-n-c-e. As dim a witted bunch of slow learners that ever strode the tide of TV Times. It may as well be canned laughter. Ever wondered why there’s so may puzzled looks on the audience faces. These are first timers. Probably last timers. They haven’t spotted the gag. They’d need an electron joke-o-scope to spot the humour. They’re wondering why everyone is rolling about as if Woody Allen has just told the story of Mrs Berkowitz and the Moose. Those that are genuinely laughing are on a day-trip from Mont Park Psychiatric Hospital. And they think they’re at the zoo and gawping at wanking meerkats.

Now it’s sunk to a new low. The skit segment The House Of Bulger is about as bad as TV gets. It’s the kind self indulgent filler that only a show that thinks it can get away with anything does. It’s a cross between Skit House and the short lived, Arcade. Only worse. That may sound funny. Well, I guess it is. But not in a pleasant way. To get an idea of the laugh-a-decade sensation try placing a banana skin (Eternal comedy prop) in the middle of your kitchen floor and continually slipping on it so that you fracture your eyesocket on the corner of the cutlery draw. Champagne comedy, not. And just as painful as sitting through Bulger.

If Nine have any sense at all they’ll spot the dud. I’m surprised the big fella hasn’t rung up and squashed it like he did that Doug Mulray stink-beetle back in 1992. The stunned silence as they throw back to the panel, before they take their laugh-cue, should be indication enough the skit stinks. Tottie Goldsmith’s another. Australia’s own Ted McGinley. And the fact that half the audience at home goes for an extended tea-break. Or changes the channel. Once Big Kezza susses that the segment will axed quicker than you can say THE Bold and THE Beautiful.

The Footy Show spent hours knocking Live & Kicking. Seven’s pathetic attempt to cash in on the footy/variety show connection. With it’s cheap stunts and cringingly lame segments. Todd Viney anyone? Doug Hawkins setting his chest hair on fire? Or sculling beer upside-down? Well, split my sides! Sadly the Footy Show’s become exactly what L&K tried to be. The only difference is that Nine have always sold a show better and they’ve always had better set designers. They LOOK more professional. Doesn’t mean it’s better TV. It just seems better. Don’t be fooled punters.

If you want real footy talk with natural humour and consistent attention to detail check out Fox League Teams. It’s streets ahead and has a real asset in ex-Essington ruckman John Barnes.

Remember, the Footy Show wins Logies. Say no more!



Cows with guns!

Also via Presurfer


You're gay!

Via Presurfer


I don't mind the local council making it hard to park round here. After all, it's where I live and it can be a bugger trying to find a spot. Especially when the Tiges are playing at the MCG.

I don't even have much of an objection to the fact that they've just slapped a $20 charge ($40 for extra ones up to three) on our once free annual parking permit. As long as it frees up parking spaces for the resident. The streets here are chockers!

However, let's not kid ourselves that the primary consideration is drinking and the driving....

Cr Di Natale said the bans would make streets safer by discouraging drink-driving. "If people bring their cars and park outside the bar, there's more inclination for them to get in their cars and drive home after they have been drinking,"

Cr Di Natale is Green (PDF). My local council is Green. So, say it loud Deb! You want fewer cars! It's OK! I want fewer cars.

Then again, just maybe the Herald Sun could have mentioned the fact too.

PS: Strictly on-topic; Backstreet Parker?


Good site. Civil War. Pictures.

Via Plep. More Pictures. Ou est La Horde?


"You f***** grub! You're a f***** grub!"

F***** grubby!



Lately there's been a lot of fish-wrapping dedicated to Vijay Singh's refusal to play with Annika Sorenstam. And his, now typical and pathetic "I was taken out of context". No you weren't! Stand by your comments you squibb!

Patrick Smith has also mentioned it in Today's Article. For what it's worth, I agree with both Smith and Eldrich Tigger who suggest she should play more than the one scheduled tournament. Let's see exactly how good she is. One weekend won't tell us anything.

Robert Lusetich also has an article in today's Australian. Unlinked of course. I can't be bothered navigating around their website in a vain search for an article I know I'll never find.

Anyhoo, in making his point about gender matches he tenders the oft repeated precedent of the Billy Jean King v Bobby Riggs match from 1973. Jaysus! Can we stop that analogy. Better still, let's terminate it with extreme prejudice and bury it deep down in a mass grave somewhere in Siberia.

That match was between the world's Number 1 female player, playing at the height of her powers and an aging, never-was, loud mouth blowhard. A dickhead to boot. There was never any doubt that Little Miss Moffatt would win. She was a much better player and probably would have beaten him in his prime. If you really want to settle that argument put up Lleyton Hewitt against Serena Williams. Watch him flog her 6-0, 6-0, 6-0 while watching Rocky, eating hot-dogs and sculling beers at end changes.

Golf's different. Sorenstam's not in danger of getting aced or tackled or out-sprinted or clubbed behind the ear. From a physical standpoint, all she's got to worry about is her driving length. She's bound to be shorter off the tee but there's nothing, at the moment, to suggest her game will be technically lacking. If it is, let's find out what her short-comings are. Now we get a chance to see her and the best male golfers go head to head in their prime and therefore make a valid comparison.

However, you would expect the blokes to win, but you won't know unless you put the match on.

Patrick also makes mention of Gabriel Zombie and his refusal to stand by his comments last week regarding Melbourne coach Neil Daniher. I agree with him that the Zombie should have stood by his comments. There's nothing at all wrong with the President indicating to the footy public that a losing coach is under pressure. As Daniher himself said, "It's bloody obvious!"

However, it's typical of Smith's nasty streak that he tries to make a point out of the Zombie's subsequent apology to the footy department. Maybe he was struggling to fill his word quota. There's nothing at all wrong with Zombie fronting the players to reassure them there's no chance of any board upheaval and apologising for any indication to the contrary. Smith's assertion that Zombie "is now contrite about something he swore he didn't say" is typical media nitpicking.

I've no doubt the Zombie over-emphasised his initial position. No doubt that he talked it down in a clumsy way. No problem with him apologising to the players. BUT. There's no doubt that the essence of what he said was correct. In fact, "The bleedin' obvious". The media could have, maybe should have, treated it as such and recognised that a president berating his players is not indicative of the end of the world but more a case of "What's new!"

Coincidentally on a completely unrelated tangent. Nothing at all to do with anything. Not trying to deflect the spotlight away from Melbourne....

Ian Dicker is Under The Pump. Shane Crawford can't Handle The Pressure. Peter Schwab is Feeling The Heat. And the Hawks Plunge To New Depths.


Sad news. Vale Stan Rofe!

Amazing! I was listening to Brian Wise interview Stan only two weeks ago on RRR's Off The Record and he sounded right as rain. Turns out he'd been diagnosed with cancer only a couple of days before that.



Got a bit of a surprise the other day. I'd just arrived home after another satisfactory and rewarding session shaping the future of tomorrow's captains of industry.

The first thing I did was sit down and go through my inbox. Lots of goodies there. Zylacor wants me to lose weight. Zrmxo asks "DOES THE SIZE OF YOUR PENIS REALLY MATTER?" Stanley Baker wants to show me a "Proven money sucking method". (They connected?) Ernesto Boggs has amazing Diazepam. Jocelyn Howard wants to meet me. Viagra promises me a HUUUUUUUUGE readership. And I've won $1000.

Anyhoo, once I'd finished applying to/for all of them (Don’t ask. I’ve got issues) I started to read the evening edition of Private Crikey. The one in the brown paper e-mail. Rayjo ratings. Three-ore/Good. Abe/Bad. The budget. Yawn. WA politics. Ha Ha. Paul Keating & meerkats. Huh? SA politics. Don Dunstan still Premier? Then I got to the last one....


Just in case you haven't seen it, here's the photo from the West Australian that Fremantle Docker Paul Haselby is not too happy with. He's thinking of suing because a tiny bit of his tackle was shown in the first edition before the airbrush was applied. Don't be too precious Paul.

Now, given Crikey's recent collar feeling "Allo three times" and subsequent wallet lightening over issues legal, and that there was talk around of Haselby taking the matter further it surprised me they'd risk another visit to the beak. Never the less, bugger Crikey, I thought. That's their problem. I'm just glad they put themselves out there to bring us some tasty titbits. So, I clicked on the link and while the page was loading wondered what the law says in regard to these matters. Don't forget, Australia ruined the Internet. Thanks Paranoid Joe! I also asked myself the more significant question of whether I'd like a cup of tea or coffee.

One thing was bothering me though. I couldn't work out what it was but I knew something was amiss. I had that unsettling did-I-leave-the-keys-in-the-ignition feeling. Then I noticed the address as Paul's picture appeared on the screen. Where've I seen that before? That looks vaguely familiar, "Ay. gee. bee. log. blogspot. com. What the?!? I know that! That's umm. That's err. THAT'S ME!"

Well! "Knock me down with a feather Uncle Clavdivs!" There followed an immediate self congratulatory wallow as I'd done something that had appeared in Crikey. Regular readers would attest (In court, I hope) that I've always maintained Crikey's a fine organ of record and never, ever, not once, just then, even the other day, referred to it as a down market, left-wing student rag. Unfortunately this feeling was superseded by a nagging notion that if Crikey could get slugged 25 grand for defaming Nick Bulkus then it wouldn't be much of a snip for Haselby to set his manager, Wayne Loxley, onto the entire editorial staff of the After Grog Blog Picayune. Namely, me. The last thing I need is for Haselby’s lawyers to whack me with something short, blunt and nasty. Steve Price for instance.

Then again, why would he bother? He probably realises by now that the original outlet for the picture, The West Australian, is just another satire mag. Sort of like New Viz. The one without any funny bits.

I haven’t heard anything yet. Although haselby.jpg mysteriously appeared in a Pomgolian Blog (That's veerrrrrry strange. The link's not working. Hmmm.) and that old rudy, Ma Yobbo’s been doing her best to thin out the impact of any impending litigation.

Coincidentally, Wayne Loxley was my coach when I was dominating blitzing getting the occasional kick sitting on the bench for Subiaco Reserves way back in that far away decade, the 1980’s. Unfortunately I’d fallen under the protective wing of then team mate and present incumbent Member For South Barwon Michael Crutchfield and had been introduced to beer and socially unacceptable behaviour. Dare I say our behaviour was ”Inappropriate”.

In closing, your honour, I’ve only one thing to say in my defence, CRIKEY!



"I'm a Naughty Boy!"

Via a J-Walking Efemerist Collectivist Stuff Getting Girl.



YAHOO! No No. Not the internet thingo! Just YAHOO! As in HOORAY. HUZZAH! A GLASS WITH YOU SIRRAH! I've just changed from Big Poop to iinet. This is great news! Great news for me. Great news for you. IT IS! I'm now up for some BIG blogging! Big! Bigger! BIGGEST!

More WORDS! Words like Fish. Schottky Diode. Eggplant. And Incunabula. "Ooh. Err. Naughty boy!" Stop that!


Anyhoo, go and see my new and improved Tosser post. Down there. Below. Further. Jaysus! Idiot! That's right. There. There's even Paragraphs!



A family paper? What's Your Decision? Centimetre Perfect football coverage?


Well you heard it HERE first. One ball was all it took me. Jamie Jermaine Lawson's a chucker! Even the Spanker agrees! It was also the main topic of debate on each of the last two Fox Cricket Shows. And Patrick Smith on the radio on Monday morning. "He chucks. It's as simple as that. He can't be allowed to play!" He wrote the same Yesterday. And the District Firsts umpire I was talking to on Saturday. Now he's been officially CITED (Look at that arm!). The ump I talked to also said most of the umps he knows reckon Murali's a dead set javelin thrower. Personally I reckon he throws darts.

Anyhoo, it's becoming a habit but I again take issue with Spanky who contends the issue’s become an emotional one. "Unfortunately, emotion and politics take over when the matter of bowling actions is raised." He oughtta know! It was he who commented on the Boxing Day test in 1995 when Murali was no-balled. "A travesty. A disgrace. A black day. End of the world. Shattering. Etc." Not much emotion in that, is there? Cool your jets paddle-arse! It's also been Roebuck who's been at the forefront of the emotional push that maintains "Murali's a lovely boy. Nice smile. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Wouldn't throw. Sends his mother flowers. And things."

To my knowledge Roebuck's never come out and stated that he believes Murali throws. And Murali obviously throws. Spanker always hints at Aussie bias, cultural superiority or some scurrilous racist undertones. And that hoary old dud that says "What are you talking about! Brett Lee throws! No credibility teacher boy!"

Well, if he's prepared to concede calm and considered remedial action for Lawson; "No one need get upset about this suggestion" then it's on him to try to take the heat out of the situation. He still doesn't seem to want to acknowledge it though. "Several bowlers, most of them spinners, have been dealt with in this way and most have returned with the problems ironed out" No points for guessing who he's writing about. And Murali still chucks.

This all makes his comment that "If cricket buries its head in the sand, then the laws of the game might as well be torn up." seem all the more bizarre. Some of them HAVE been torn up. And primarily at the behest of pundits like Roebuck. The umps used to be able to call a throw. Not any more. They instigate a long-winded and flawed process that ultimately doesn't stop the bowler chucking in a match. Murali passing muster at a tainted international forum of Bowling Judges doesn't mean he can toss darts at the footmarks. If I pass my driving test it doesn't mean I can drive at 150kph down the wrong side of the road brandishing a beer can and running down cyclists. Much as I'd lik....Oops!....buy a bike of my own.

The umpires MUST be given back the right to call a throw a no-ball. The pundits must also treat it in the same light as overstepping the line. As just another bowling error. If you can't, or won't, bowl within the rules then you can't play. Simple as that. There's no point tearing up the rules to accommodate cheating. No matter how much it impinges on the ability of some sides to win.

By the way; I've always maintained that Courtney Walsh chucked his fast one. He chucked the one that got McDermott in Adelaide in Jan 1993. Coincidentally he's Lawson's mentor.



After an intensive fact finding mission the Earthlings are heading back to base. They've many revealing pictures of Secret Rocks, Bouncing Rats & Rare Exotic Beasties. My high level contacts also inform me they've stolen the only copy of the Vegemite Recipe and are smuggling incriminating images of This Person, This Person and Me.



Age cricket writer Spanky Roebuck is not backward in coming forward when citing the writing of a certain Stratford glovemaker's son; "I am not gamesome, I do lack some part of that quick spirit that is in Andy Roberts." Herald Sun Faithworks writer Bryan Patterson therein quotes Chesterton ("Golf's just expensive marbles.") and often quotes a bible-bashing Nazarene carpenter on topics theological; "Thou shalt not with thy mallet thy thumb smoosh!" Even your's truly is prone to quote the classics; "Doh!" What we don't do, as far as I'm aware, is seek to give the false impression the quotes were delivered yesterday over a convivial beaker or two; "Wench! Some loaves, some fishes and two grails of house red. Terrence. Pray tell. How now for mitigation of this coach?"

Ap.Ro.Pos. Thursday there was a Trevor Grant article in the Herald Sun. Their archiving is archaic so no links. Under the headline This Year There Are No Excuses was an opinion piece about Melbourne's prospects for 2003. It was a double page spread covering all aspects of the club but there was obviously going to be some implicit criticism of coach Neil Daniher. Terry Daniher if you believe hardcore footy reporters Michelle Ainley and Rebecca Williams in Friday's Hun. In it he cited ex Bullgogs coach Terry Wallace....

My opinion is that he's a very well organised coach. But I believe if you get the better of Melbourne in the coach's box you'll more often than not hold sway.

Fair enough. He's a pundit now. It's his job to offer up opinions. Today, however, when asked by Caroline Wilson whether what he said was appropriate he replied that he hadn't said anything. Caro asked him how he came to be quoted in Thursday's paper. Turns out Grant didn't ask him. Turns out Grant had taken some stuff out of an article Wallace had penned in February. Turns out Wallace was upset he'd been quoted. And it turns out he wouldn't have said what he said in the current circumstances.

I don't reckon Grant's a bad journo but using the newspaper equivalent of file footage is dead lazy!



Spammers are persistent. They never quit trying to sell you things. Money. Music lessons. Quilting books. Viagra. Nigeria. Naked teenagers. Big organs. Free Stuff. Double Too Late! Ooo Err. I even used it tonight. Pork.

PS: How do you pronounce GR10AWHT?


Do you read? Do you listen? Do you answer? I got Nine. Guessed two. Who's Gareth Gates?

From Ephemera Girl.



Watch that Last Step! It's a woozy.

UPDATE: Just saw the footage on the news. Ouch.


Show us your Mice!

"Oooh, you are awful!"

Ancient media proverb ask - "What's the sound of one truck backing?"

The Zomby yesterday....

"The pressure's well and truly on the football department."

The Zomby Today....

Szondy emphasised Daniher was "under no pressure whatsoever"

Caro Weighs In. Once more With The Girls. So does Patty Boy.

I have to admit the Zomby's got it all arse about. It's supposed to go like this....

Lurking Notebook, Pen & Trilby - "Gabriel, you've lost three on the trot. How do you think Neil Daniher going?"

Zomby - "Well, Lurker. Good question. Thank's for asking it. All of us here at the Melbourne Football Club are fully behind Neil. We believe he's the fourth best wonderful coach in the league. He's doing a fantastic job. We're wrapped and we'll be appointing a new coach in the morning."

Not like this....

Lurker - "Gabriel, how's Neil Daniher going?"

Zomby - "Well, Lurker. Good question. Thank's for asking it. We think the football department sucks. Everyone there's under notice. Neil's a goose. A bumbling bumpkin. In short, an appalling coach. Couldn't win a chook raffle. We've just re-signed him for three years."

Perhaps that’s what the pundits mean when they say he’s being naive. It’s footy-code for not telling porkies.


Off field, errr, distractions perhaps?




The Drivel Warehouse is out of stock and Stew's been Doing Too Many Lines.

Don't be a Christian!

Grog been suffering the Fairfaxis squeals if misbehaved
or drugs. Or
more correctly, lack of it. to me, drives
me across the point music was
still Da. Doo.



The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to The Fifth Level of Hell!

Purgatory (Repenting Believers)Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)Extreme
Level 3 (Gluttonous)High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)Extreme
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)Extreme
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)Extreme
Level 7 (Violent)Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)Extreme
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)Very High

Take the Dante's Inferno Test


Just listened to Neil Mitchell interview John Brumby about yesterday's Budget. Why times two.

First. Why was I listening to Neil. Dunno why.

Next. Why is Mitchell interviewing Brumby?

Yes. I know. I know. It's his show. He's the star. He's the Rayjo Pers'nal'ty. He brings in the blue haired bacon. But he's not an economist. He knows rock all about money guff. All the questions he aksks are scripted. Because of this he can't press an issue. He can't aksk the intricate follow up. Sure he aksked about the increased charges. The broken promises. Tolls. The deferment of infrastructure projects. Speed camera revenue raising. Charges. Fees. Levees. Banks. (Clever) Whatever. Those were gimme's. Of course he's going to aksk about them. He has to aksk about them. But I could aksk them. Oi c'n read. Oi c'n spoik. Mind you, Oi can't sigh like Neil does.

Anyhoo, Tezza McCann works for 3AW. Why not get him involved? His article in Today's Hun (Unlinked. Is Tel online?) was succinct and to the point (Tautology?). He'd know how to follow up when Brumby started incanting "Hospitals. Schools. Police. Hospitals. Schools. Police. Headlice. Scallops. Pools. Blah. Glumpf. Flooob." He'd know which questions to ask. Which figures to refute. Which counterfigures to present. Stuff like...

It's quite wrong to think the public transport defecit was caused by Kennett and Stockdale's privatisation. The losses would have been there if the privatisation had never occurred. At least we shifted a few years of losses onto those private owners.

The idea that the previous government is the cause of all our financial problems is a myth that continually gets a run because there are few in the electronic meeja capable of, or willing to, give it the severe and extreme debunking it deserves. McCrann would certainly push this issue and ask for present day accountability, not ludicrous blame-shifting. He would also make the point that the only reason the present figures are in any kind of reasonable shape at all is because of the work done by Kennett and Co. And much less to do with Brumby's continual claim....

"We're doing a great job."

Pish! Posh! You're spending the inheritance rich boy!



Banana Bender speed merchant Patrick Johnson has just become the first Aussie to break the 10 Second Barrier. Thirty years old. Didn't start running 'til he was twenty-four. When with the whispers? "Pssst. Must be on something. Some of THIS."

But wait. THIS is not THIS. Must be taking THIS.


The Real McCoy. Subtle.

Season 26 - Ace in a Frock

You are Season 26. You are Dark and Manipulative. People tend to paint you as sicker than you really are - you're far more subtle than people seem to think. Despite that, you're a good laugh and fun to be around.

The Real Me. I'm Ace. Face. Double Subtle. Workin' beautifully me.

Which Doctor Who Season Are You?
Brought to you by Quizilla


The other day on 3AW Neil Mitchell was talking to State Treasurer John Brumby about the today's Budget. In concluding Mitchell asked...

Mitchell - "Will there be any new taxes in the Budget?"

Brumby - "No."

Mitchell - "Will there be any new charges in the Budget?"

Brumby - "I'm not going to talk about the Budget."

Imagine the Fairfaxis squeals if Kennett had tried that on. It's just another indication of this State Government's blithe attitude to money management and any media scrutiny therein. Listen for the dogged refrain as we're told it's a Responsible Budget, that any possible problems are all the Kennett Government's Fault and how great is the 100 Million Dollar surplus. Not the 1.8 Billion Dollar surplus the Kennett Govt left them.



Apple Logies for my recent vanishment from the Blogosphere. The reason? Sauce. Or more correctly, lack of it. That's right, the After Grog Blog's been on the wagon. Taken the pledge. Off the schicker.

Why? Well, I figured another hell session two Friday's ago was a sign I needed to give it a rest. I'd ignored all the other signs. There are only so many times you can wake up dazed and bemused and wonder IF, or more accurately, WHY you'd made such an arse of yourself the previous night. Then again IF. Not sure if you'd misbehaved or not. And seeing I can't write like Raoul Duke used to, I'm not about to put it in a Book and make a career out of it. Even in Russian!

You'll remember that Friday was Anzac day. Because I was taking a couple of Excellent Earthlings to the Pinks/Demons game that night at the SCG, I'd decided on a light one. Fat chance! About three quarter time in the afternoon's Coll'wood/Esss-a-don game there set in only blurry juice-grabs of "Latté! Dot.com! Gay Mardi Gras! No passion! Chardonnay! Red + White = Pink!" Sydney Swan fan-fights. An aging bouncer pissed off that he couldn't stomp my arse because I'd kicked myself out before he got the chance. A hideous blue chrome nightclub full of muscle-heads and their hair tossing poppets. Dingy (Little boat? Doesn't look right) backstreets. I got lost. A flying barstool and accompanying sore foot. Burger rings. THIS. That one's good. Better. Bugger it. BEST! Best live album ever! Bar none! Another reason to like TB. The only other person I know who owns it. In vinyl too. Respect.

Sound like fun? It's not. It's stupid. The upshot? Well, I haven't had a sip since last Saturday night when I had one glass of wine with dinner. That's nine days off the laughing lolly. Longest I've been without a drink since I was at school. Longest by double. I left in 1979.

Anyhoo, you'd think I'd be all clear headed and churning out loads of luscious bloggage. No go. I was clear headed alright. Clear of ideas. No go on the luscious.

I don't know how this is gonna play out but as of now the After Grog Blog is operating on a whole new dynamic and taken the name to it's logical extension. At least I won't have to change it. I'm not making any promises but let's see how it goes. One day at a time.

PS: I'm keeping my heroes! HST. Sam Peckinpah. Pete Townshend. Keith Richard. And the two Warrens, Zevon and Oates.



Cuban Heel