Indefinite Thoughts & Emu

10 Popular Misconceptions About President Obama

2010-08-10T21:10:00.003+10:00

Thanks to innuendo, gutter journalism, the Washington DC Gossip mill, Republican Party disinformation and erroneous entries in Wikipedia the life and career of the 44th President of the United States of America (as well as some of those bits of land you only see talked about during the Olympics or on Jeopardy) has been besmirched by lies, misconceptions and outright untruths. Thanks to a generous grant from the University of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Department of History and Subcutaneous Infections) as well as a severe concussion I have been able to formulate and cogently disprove the twenty most frequently cited fabrications about the 'Yes We Can' man.

1. Barack Obama spent three years a ninja fighting giant robots on the Japanese island of Hokkaido between 1997 and 2000.
This is not true, however he has watched several episodes of the seminal Japanese anime cartoon 'Gigantor'.

2. President Obama was convicted of licking slabs of gouda without a licence whilst holidaying in Rotterdam before graduating from the University of Chicago.
A popular myth spread by the Dutch ambassador in 2009 after the President refused to sign the Netherlands-US Pact for Cheese Security

3. Before deciding to run for the presidency in 2006 the then Senator Obama pondered his chances of entering the ballot on 'America's Next top Model'. He was argued out of this contest after receiving advice from Twiggy, Teddy Kennedy and retired Australian Rugby League great George Piggins.
Whilst the core of this story is correct it wasn't George Piggins but Johnny Sait who represented the most popular football code in NSW and Queensland at the meeting which endorsed Obama's presidential candicy.

4. President Obama's favourite wood is not balsa (as cited by Rush Limbaugh in his radio special 'Liberal Democrats and Their Favourite Building Supplies'.
It is not (as claimed by Rush Limbaugh)...it is in fact linseed.

5. Barack Obama is a secret worshipper of Islam
Again another rumour encouraged by his political opponents, there is absolutely no truth in this statement. Obama is in fact a Sixth Day Gentile Nudist with a Buddhist Twist, and he can be seen observing his faith every second Wednesday at your nearest Krispy Kreme outlet.

6. Barack Obama's wife Michelle has four toes on her left foot and six on the right
As documented in the deposition given by the Obama Family chiropodist in front of a full Senate Committee the first lady has normal feet. However President Obama has given no such guarantees about the state of his wife's scapula.

7. Barack Obama dodged the draft during the Vietnam War
This hurtful and wildly inaccurate misconception began as a result of Obama's unwillingness to pack a M-16 and dig in with the Marines during the Siege of Khe Sanh. However it has been documented by papers released by the Pentagon that President Obama was only 7 years old at the time and hence not up to the rigorous medical standards of the USMC.

8. The President's left leg is made entirely out of bacon
A blatant lie spread by PETA and the Canadian pork industry.

9. President Obama appeared in an erotic movie with Joe Biden, Jenna Jameson and Newt Gingrich
A persistent rumour cultivated by Jenna Jameson and Newt Gingrich. In fact it was a motivational video starring the President, Oprah Whinfrey, Milton Friedman and Ron Jeremy and the nude scenes were only from the waist up.

10. President Barack Hussein Obama is black
A simple search of Google images disproves this blatant racist attack.

Pierre "Tripod" McAdam: Passing of an Erotic Legend - Part 1

2009-07-07T22:57:00.006+10:00

The world of adult entertainment, internet erotica, rubber clothing wholesalers and providores of fruit shaped remarkably similar to the male genitive organ are today united in grief. The reason? Pierre "Tripod" McAllister, arguably the greatest actor to have ever graced the XXX industry since the end of World War Two has finally succumbed to old age and black outs at the still-too-young age of 65. To commemorate his passing I have been commissioned by UNESCO and the Eros Foundation to write an obituary of the man of whom it was said had "bedded more women than Captain Snooze". Here follows a summary of his early years, or as Pierre himself called these times in his autobiography 'Man Stool', the 'early years'.

McAllister's childhood years are shrouded in mystery, conflicting anecdotes and self-perpetuating rumours that Pierre himself spread. As far as the extant documentary evidence allows Pierre Wolfram Ebenezer McAllister was born in Topeka, Kansas on a date yet to be confirmed in January 1944. His mother is listed in the records of St Enid's Hospital for Single Mothers and Naughty Young Girls Who Never Learnt How To Say No To A Sailor as Kaylene Raylene Gaylene McAllister, whilst the relevant entry for the father is left blank. In later years Pierre claimed his father was General George S Patton who supposedly met his mother at a demonstration of the new 155mm Long Tom artillery piece and then consummated their 27 minute love affair behind the back of his personalised Sherman tank. However it was also claimed at various times that his father was Pablo Picasso, Audie Murphy, Secretary of State Cordell Hull and the then unpublished French existentialist Jean Paul Satre. McAllister's only sister Bobbi Mae Jean Daisy Billy Jo McAllister was reported to have refuted these claims and said her elder brother's father was in fact a gopher herder from Bismark, North Dakota.

No matter his parentage on his father's side, it was the maternal influence of his mother that defined much of Pierre's juvenile years. A strict born again Episcopalian Jewish Lutheran egg noodle sales rep, she would often bundle the prepubescent Pierre into a potato sack slung over her shoulder as she traipsed down the fabled Route 66 selling Hokkien and Vermicelli to truck stops and itinerant monks. As mother and son explored the highways and back roads of the continental US she would often wedge him into vacant school window cracks hoping Pierre would absorb his three Rs. Unfortunately Pierre only got the first two Rs and had to be satisfied with a lower case q, and in later years when looking back on this period the eminence gris of porn would say 'He may have been a poor noodle seller's son but he could read, write and quantity survey'.

It was during these ramshackle years of public education that Pierre's legendary anatomical prowess was first brought to public attention. Appearing as Morgan the Welsh goat herder in his junior high school's nativity play in 1957, several of his classmates plus one of his teachers (a Miss Ilona O'Pudding) happened to cast their gaze upon McAllister's privates thanks to a wardrobe malfunction. In the resultant stampede to the doorway of the school hall 3 eagle Scouts were trampled whilst Sister Beata Incontinentia from the Convent of St Flaccid went into a 35 year long swoon. The aforementioned O'Pudding however took it upon herself to take the young Pierre's virginity, which over several hours of passionate love making as well as Latin verb conjugation was finally achieved to the great satisfaction of all involved.

Resignation Speech As Delivered by Norbert Fortescue MP

2009-06-19T20:32:00.005+10:00

(In the interests of political posterity and historical accuracy "Indefinite Thoughts and Emu" is proud to be the first blog to republish in full the speech given by noted Australian parliamentarian Norbert Fortescue given in the House of Representatives on Tuesday June 16th, announcing his impending retirement from politics. Herein follows the extant speech as recorded in Hansard)

Speaker of the House: Order...order. Will the Member for Buggery please stop interjecting and desist from trying to look up the skirt of the Member for Chappelli. [Pause followed by shouts from the government benches of that made reference to the speaker's baggy trousers] The Member for Newton-John?
Fortescue: Thank you Mr Speaker, and may I say that in my 34 years in this house as the member for the fine upstanding voters of Newton-John I have never been so impressed by the way a trouser hem line avoids all contact with the groin region as shown by your fine example. [Stomping of feet and low cow-bellowing sounds made by sections of the Opposition representing regional seats.] Mr Speaker, I would like to take this opportunity to announce that when the callow, communist, morally-bankrupt, be-pimpled and no doubt suffering from severe sexual inadequacies Government finally decide to allow the men and women of Australia to exercise their right to turf out dole-bludging crooks and hangers-on that sit on the other side of Black Rod and hold an election I won't be seeking pre-selection for my seat. [The Prime Minister turns to face the Member for Newton-John and breaks wind rather vigorously]
Speaker of the House: The House will not allow the Prime Minister to show his disdain for the Member for Newton-John with flatulence. Please restrict yourself to tongue-poking, dropping your trousers and calling the right honourable member a f-ckwit.
Fortescue: Thank you Mr Speaker. [The Prime Minister stops breaking wind and waits for the Minister for Health and Swedish Massage to use semaphore indicating to the Member for Newton John his f-ckwittedness]
Fortescue: Mr Speaker, esteemed colleagues, members of the press, visitors to the public gallery and you there, the lady with the shopping trolley filled with empty dirty milk cartons and crooning 'Living Next Door To Alice' by Smokie, it seems like only yesterday that I was first elected to the House of Representatives after the quite proper dismissal of the then Prime Minister Gough Whitlam in 1975. I was fortunate enough to secure a swing of almost 107% for my then seat of Yallop, before it was redistributed and became the seat of Minogue. Of course it was then changed due to subsidence after the 1980 election to become the seat of Kamahl, before another name change just because the Australian Electoral Commission decided that they'd like to call it the seat of Hiddink. However it has been for almost all my parliamentary career that I have been awarded the unbridled power and associated benefits from representing the seat of Newton-John, and I would like to pay homage to my supporters back home.
Member For Fenech: Mr Speaker, on a point of order, can the Member for Newton John please stop fiddling with his undone trouser fly and put it away?
Fortescue: Thank you my esteemed colleague from the government for pointing out my public onanism but may I remind the member that I have been touching myself lewdly since the days of Reg Withers and Jim Cairns and if a young progressive commie bastard like him wants to have anywhere near the success as I have had in this house then he should stop criticising and commence vigorous self-manipulation repeatedly so long as he sits on the government benches. [Members of the Opposition say "Hear hear!" whilst the Treasurer lewdly gropes a chicken].
Now where was I? oh yes, since I entered parliament in the first Fraser government I have had the good fortune to rise through the ranks of my party. In my callow youthfulness the best position I could hold in those early ministries was being the guy who cleaned out Doug Anthony's stall and made sure the cat was put out at night. I learned a lot from Jim Killen, Phil Lynch and the long-dead Latin author Boethius about how to carry a motion, how to put that same motion in the bowl and then how to flush that motion down the drain. But that's another story.
Member for Fellatio: Mr Speaker can I be excused, I need to go toot-toot?
Speaker of the House: Okay, but don't dilly-dally.
Fortescue: Mr Speaker, I guess it is no secret that during the years of the Hawke and Keating governments I lost my way politically. I had great hopes for elevation to the shadow ministry as the then oppositions spokesman for banging your head against a table, banging your head against a mullet and finally banging your head against a Catholic however the ructions that divided my party diverted our attention away from such weighty matters of state. [Members of the Opposition mumble obscenities about Andrew Peacock, Alexander Downer and Anton Chekhov]. Yet in those dim dark days I was fortunate enough to receive some guidance from my wife Elizabeth, her hairdresser Wayne, my local chiropodist Elwin and my personal idealogue Stalin. They all showed me that with patience, love, devotion and a Centurion tank my arguments could sway those who argued against me in party room brawlings. Of course Elizabeth and I are no longer together, due in no small part to that game of nude blindman's buff we played at Yarralumla, however Elwin and I are very happy still, comparing carbuncles and musing over the fuel excise.
Member for Chutney: Point of order Mr Speaker, is the Member for Newton-John going to continue this speech with his left index finger perpetually inserted into his right nostril or is this just another opposition stunt to take away our attention from the fact that the shadow foreign affairs spokesman likes to bugger marmosets?
Speaker of the House: This house thanks the Member for Chutney for bringing to our attention the marmoset problem that the shadow foreign affairs spokesman has however he has the floor. He also has the skirting board, the ceiling fan and the fly screens. Please continue the Member for Newton-John.
Fortescue: Thanks Mr Speaker, and before I was so rudely interrupted I was going to muse over the giddy heights I climbed under the last years of the Howard government. There was the appointment to permanent under-secretary for temporary oversight of military underwear, my joining of the cabinet as Minister for Oblong Objects and Climate Change, and of course some of my adversaries and friends alike here today will recall with great disinterest my speech to UNESCO about rabbits, nuns in lingerie and halitosis. But these particular events pale into insignificance thanks to my three year term as the Minister for Brown-Nosing The US. I have several intimate photographs of myself and the ex-Vice President of the United States sans trousers and thongs, displaying our committment to strong bilateral relations. These pictures of course will be released for public viewing at your local IMAX cinema post the pre-selection ballot in my seat. [Members of the Opposition call out "Onya Norbert!" and "I heard it was at least 12 inches long!" whilst the Treasurer fondles a Rubik's Cube].
Speaker of the House: Ten minute warning for the Member for Newton-John.
Fortescue: Before I finish this, my farewell speech to this house as well as the soon-to-be-released rap song 'Norbert Comes Alive', I would like to pass on some comments about both the Prime Minister and my current party leader. The PM is obviously a man of intellect, passion, self-belief and integrity. Why is why I am at a total loss why he is sitting directly opposite me in the nude bar a pickled onion jar which is barely hiding his less than impressive parts. As for the Opposition Leader, his path lays in front of him towards what I hope will be an electoral victory when the country next goes to the polls. Or failing that I am sure that Peter Costello would love to slip into a negligee for him and entertain my leader with his renditions of old Marlene Dietrich songs.
The Prime Minister: It's an empty corn relish jar Fortescue...stop lying you treacherous bastard!
Speaker of the House: Order in the house. Will the PM please refrain from calling the Member for Newton-John a lying bastard and restrict himself to calling him a deceptive c-nt.
Fortescue: Mr Speaker, I resemble those remarks.
[The assembled members of the House of Representatives then rose and recognised the service given by the Member for Newton-Jophn by loudly expectorating into a tankard and presenting it to him with a chorus of 'here's to Norbert he's true blue...'].

Quotes from History That Aren’t That Well Known or Indeed Helpful

2008-10-17T12:31:00.002+11:00

“When I hear the word revolver, I reach for my lunch” (Hermann Goering, speech to the National Socialist Frotteurs Association, March 1939)
“Beauty is in the kidneys of Mrs Eliza McWhirter, 39 Stanthorpe Road, Budden, N51 65K Yorkshire” (John Keats, “Ode to a Semi-Filled Commode, 1810)
“Death be not proud, although you can strut around wearing very tight pants that exaggerate your groin bulge” (John Donne, “Tight Pants Sonnet IV”, 1598)
“I surrender” (insert any French statesmen and/or general since the reign of Charlemagne here)
“I am not a crook…but I do have an interest in fondling pubescent otters.” (Richard Nixon, cited in his original manuscript for the Brady Bunch episode “Cindy Meets The President”)
“In beginning there was the word, and the word was olfactory” (the so-called “Smelly Bible”, translated from Hebrew by Dr Ron Inaccurate of the Faculty of Spoon-Licking, University of Carlsbad Dubbo Campus)
“Those who do not study history are condemned to repeat it…as well as maths, home economics and quantum physics. Plus stay in after school and clean the blackboard with their bare tummies.” (Cicero, Letters to Atticus Johnnycashius, 61 B.C.)
“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a fortune is in want of a wife…or at least some incredibly kinky sex with a woman he can hire on an hourly basis.” (“Pride & Prejudice; the Underpants Edition” by Jane Austen)
“Mairsey doats and divey doats and little lambsy kidneys” (The Andrew Sisters from the MGM Musical “I Married a Teenage Butcher”)
“We are not amused…so stop with the penis jokes and move onto the one about the goat, the virgin and the barrel of olive oil.” (Queen Victoria to Benjamin Disraeli, Sandringham Palace September 1865)
“When I hear the word culture, I reach for my frommage” (Louis Pasteur)
“I may not agree with what you say, but I’ll defend to my death your right to show me nude pictures of rather attractive young ladies” (Voltaire, Paris 1788)
“Show me the mornay.” (Cuba Gooding Jnr, “The Tuna Casserole Whisperer, Paramount Pictures 2005)
“Ich bin ein moving target” (John F Kennedy, Dallas Airport, 1963)
“Veni, vidi videorecordeo” (“I came, I saw, I recorded it on Betamax” Julius Caesar 54 BC – possibly corrupt from the original Latin)
“Go nor-nor east young man!” (Horace Greeley’s chiropodist, 1883)
“Man with hand in pocket target for painfully obvious joke about self-gratification” (Confucius, 2^nd Century B.C.)
“Long long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…actually it was really just across the road and next door to the chemists…” (Star Wars XVI: The Talcum Powder Padawan)
“There’s nothing so morbid, boring or drear, than to stand in the front bar, of the pub with no Pernod” (“Pub with No Pernod", performed by Slim Le Dusty from his album "Une Garcon Sur Kempsey")
“I like a little rebellion now and again. It is like a yeast infection in an athletic support” (Thomas Jefferson, 1810)
“When I hear the word culture, I reach for my hearing aid” (Helen Keller)
"Cogito ergo sumo" ("I think therefore I am a large Japanese wrestler in a nappy"...Blaise Pascal)

Enough Mule Abuse I Say

2008-07-09T16:26:00.004+10:00

I've never been one to shy away from a fight when it comes to censorship. As a passionate advocate of the ideology most eloquently summed up by Voltaire as "I may disagree with what you have to say, but I shall defend, to the death, your right to say it" I find the growing tide of censorious nay-sayers and wowsers determining what I may or may not see to be truly repugnant. But that has changed, and changed because of the way in which the art community has continually and flagrantly defied community standards when it comes to depicting the young, the sexually vulnerable, the mute witnesses to perverted abuse.

Yes, I am talking about art magazines, galleries and even TV masquerading as high art displayed uncovered, nude and barely walking mules in gratutious poses, all for "art"!

Well...if this is art then I'm a randy, lewd, depraved and deviated denizen of all things foul, scabrous and lubricious:
I'm sorry if this offends those who consider themselves part of the intellectual elite, the chardonnay and cafe latte set who like to think they are as socially responsible as Desmond Tutu driving a Toyota Prius. Yet when this type of filth...this kind of aberrant sexually charged imagery of a poor defenceless young mule is paraded on the cover of an Australian tax-payer funded art magazine, well I have to cry out.

Yes, I know that some of the so called authroities say there is nothing wrong about showing mules without any clothes. Mules, donkeys and even Shetland ponies have been depicted for thousands of years sans trousers, without a stitch of material to hide their equine genitalia. For example, take a geek at this fine piece of orthodox religious donkey and Jesus painting:

Now whilst we see the donkey without any garb to hide the naughty bits, it is patently clear that:

This is an adult donkey
The donkey is not in a photo and hence you can't actually identify who it really is
The donkey is long dead and hence can't be mocked, harried or subjected to insidious sexual taunts

The problem with the modern photographic representation of mules, particularly very young ones as shown on the "Art Monthly Australia" July magazine cover is that this poor defenceless victim is represented in all its crude naturalistic and dare I say sexually provocative nudity, without any redeeming artistic values. The editors of this foul and promiscious magazine have undoubtedly tried to shock and disgust those who defend the rights of young mules and other members of the Equus species from molestation and lewd massages, whilst in parallel playing up to the kinky perverts in the art community who think it is normal!

I wonder if the editors, the photographer, the mule breeder who participated in this vile photographic obscenity ever consulted the young donley? Did they ever think to reflect upon the ribald harassment, the unacceptable seductions that this poor little mule will undergo as it gambols and struts through the stables and fields of its youth? Will this mule in 5 or 10 years look back on this degrading experience as it is roughly whipped by some deviant who finds applying leather to its back perversely gratifying and realise it shouldn't have let the photographer take pictures of its mule undercarriage bits?

All I know is that right now there are literally hundreds, if not thousands of mules and other load carrying equine animals out there who are just as vulnerable to the disgusting gazes of men and women who find their libido stimulated by such filthy images. The morally bankrupt forces of modern art have again shown how flimsy our veneer of liberal civilisation is by depicting such gratuitiously sexy pics of a mule, and as far as I am concerned the next donkey or ass to need counselling for sex abuse should sue the entire Australia Council as well as the Federal Minister for the Arts and the mongrels who let such an indignity adorn the front of a so-called G-rateed magazine!

Top Ten Philias and Fetishes

2008-06-07T23:19:00.003+10:00

Thanks to a large grant I received from the Royal Danish Institute for Looking at Naughty Bits, Aalborg finally I've been able to complete my world shattering research into the latest trends of human sexuality. Whilst my thesis is awaiting both a publisher and a rather frank but cheap film maker with acess to the required nudists, ferret sexers and Albanian cheese mongers I can release without fear, favour or Microsoft Word spell check my top 20 most popular philias and fetishes (as recognised by the Red Cross, the German Bundesliga, the Russian Duma and Farmers Union dairy producers.

10. Ridgelyphilia
This is an obscure sexual kink practiced by those adults who find the idea of being fondled by Andrew Ridgely (the lesser half of 80s duo 'Wham') as erotically provocative without any of the associated nausea. In times of heightened arousal practitioners of Ridgleyphilia may be seduced by the blonde guy from Go West wearing an Andrew Ridgley mask.

9. Budgerigarism
A certain element in the elderly male community of British Columbia, Alberta and Nova Scotia find the act of dressing in yellow and green feathers, taking one's pants off and then sitting in a large cage whilst their elderly wives ask 'Who's a pretty boy?' to be the ideal way to tickle their jaded senses. It was rumoured that after retirement Canadian PM Pierre Trudeau was a practising budgerigarist, but in a tell-all interview with French tennis player Yannick Noah his ex-wife Margaret refuted this by displaying intimate photos of Pierre massaging a Osprey sans underpants.

8. Ronald McDonaldphilia
The somewhat deviant section of adult males who are committed to this sexual lifestyle find their organs engorged by the sight of a clown carrying a hamburger. Female adherents of a Ronald McDonaldphilia sexuality are reportedly aroused by greasepaint, big floppy shoes and large fries. At the height of passion a loving couple committing acts of Ronald McDonaldphilia are wont to cry out "Do you want fries with that?!"

7. Fridge Magnet Fetish
A disturbing and potentially self-harming sexual aberration where tourists go to information centres, local museums or even tourism trade shows, strip down to the flimsiest of lingerie and then covered themselves in fridge magnets. The more magnetic the kitschy gift the greater the orgasm for this fetish's adicts.

6. Fettaphilia
Originating in Athenian society during the 5th century B.C., fettaphilia is a prevalent fetish amongst those Mediterranean men and women who find that the salty Greek cheese brings them to the state of sexual frenzy. In his classic study of the behaviour Professor Con Junktshun of the Hellenic Curdist Institute documented at least 385 couples in the Thessalonika area who would every week hope under the covers of their matrimonial bed and then liberally smear fetta cheese on their bodies.

5. Wheel of Fortunism
The male and female libido in this clinical situation is usually brought to a peak when the relevant host of the local version of popular TV game show 'Wheel of Fortune' yells out the orgasmic phrase "Top dollar!". Whilst groups of these sexually perverse adherents may enjoy the act of intercourse whilst waiting for a vowel to be bought, any self-pleasuring experienced by single Wheel of Fortunists usually occurs through the actual spinning of the wheel, or the provocative visually imagery as the female co-host turns over the letters.

4. Gilliganphilia
This widely enjoyed sexual identity is usually formed by the practioner at an early age, most often after being sat in front of repeated showings of old episodes of 'Gilligans Island'. As the Gilliganphile grows into sexual maturity he or she (although it is usually a male-oriented practice) will want more than the occasional 'hey there little buddy' for gratification, moving onto full blown auto-eroticism with a banana cream pie strategically positioned. In extreme cases groups of male Gilliganphiles will go to farms in the mid-western states of the United States of America, randomly knock on doors and ask to be introduced to any Mary Annes that may live there. The only cure for this behaviour is a three hour cruise (I say again, a three hour cruise).

3. Star Anise-ism
An unbelievably popular fruit fetish in tropical countries, the Star Anise-ist adult will only be able to copulate with their male or female partner if an unpeeled star anise is hung around the external reproductive organs of their lover. If star anise is unavailable a lychee, mango or paw paw may provide a semi-satisfactory substitute.

2. Monopolyphilia
The full-blown Monopolyphiliac will often secrete the playing parts from his or her Monopoly game set around their erogenous zones whilst fully clothed. Women have been known to have at least the little doggy piece and/or the battleship inserted into their underwear, whilst male Monopolyphiliacs find gratification more readily available from frottage with the thimble or top hat. The Monopolyphiliac will be often found paying for sex in their preferred fashion by usuing Monopoly money. They should go straight to jail, and not pass go.

1. Michael Jackson's Glove-ophilia
A rather degrading form of sexual perversion where after having their partner talk to them in a high pitched voice, the male (in 99.7% of all cases) then drinks from what he may call his 'bottle of jesus jucie' before asking for his lover to put on a single white glittery glove and then commit acts of gross indecency or bad pop music (you be the judge).

If you suspect your friends, family, neighbours, the post man, the woman who served you at the delicatessan last week or even the entire 3rd Division of the US Army have committed any of these sexually kinky acts please feel free to report them (and submit a sample of your bodily fluids) to:

The Cajun Copulation and Fried Chicken Institute
Att: Professor Reginald Pubes
Troilus and Cressida Block
Methodist University of Wurtemburg and Dubbo
Pretoria

Twenty Five Things You Didn't Know About Andre Rieu

2008-05-22T22:12:00.003+10:00

Andre Rieu has a tattoo of Sibelius's face on the small of his back
During the second Gulf War Andre Rieu's music was used by the US 101st Airborne Division to demoralise those Iraqi Republican Guard units guarding Mosul.
Andre Rieu's favourite geologic era is the Pleistocene age.
The military junta that rule Myanmar (a.k.a. Burma) has banned any showing of photos of Rieu in public.
In Rieu's home town of Maastricht there is a man who has been appointed by the local council to clean every toilet in Rieu home free of charge.
Henri Paul, the driver who was killed with Dodi Fayed and Princess Di was listening to an Andre Rieu cassette on the limousine stereo immediately before the fatal accident. French police removed the offending tape and turned it over to MI-5.
Andre Rieu has the best collection of 19th Century bidets in the entire Benelux area.
The second Tueday has been called Andre Rieu Day in Topeka, Kansas.
Andre Rieu has seen the Sissy Spacke film "Coal Miner's Daughter" 312 times.
Hair shed by Andre Rieu has reportedly the same tensile strength as titanium.
Andre Rieu failed his religious eductaion course 12 times in high school.
The Royal Dutch Navy's first aircraft carrier will be called HMNLS Andre Rieu, and will be launched on Andre's birthday in 2010.
The constitution for the newly liberated country of East Timor was partly framed with Andre Rieu's advice.
Frisian cows have been known to produce 250% more milk when exposed to Andre Rieu albums in their milking sheds.
Andre Rieu was the first classical musician to be declared 100% carbon neutral by ex-Vice President Al Gore.
Andre lost his virginity at the age of 13 to four German exchange students all named Erika.
The Butthole Surfers will be touring with Andre across the ex-Soviet Caucuses nations in December 2012.
Andre Rieu has carried every summer and winter Olympic Games torch since the 1972 Sapporo winter games.
The role of Robocop was originally planned for Rieu by his Dutch compatriot Paul Verhoeven.
Rieu's first novel, "Love, Death, Edam and Violin Bow Rosin" will be published by Kluwer International in time for Christmas.
Andre Rieu was briefly engaged to erotic artist Cicciolina before she decided to marry Jeff Koons.
Hyundai are planning to release their next four wheel drive car, the Hyundai Rieu in October.
Andre Rieu's is rumoured to have three kidneys and has infra-red vision.
Before his death Pope John Paul II was going to announce Andre Rieu's beatification. Unfortunately Pope Benedict XVI has rescinded this because he doesn't like Rieu's long hair.
The Penrith Panthers rugby league team has asked Rieu to become their patron and give motivational speeches to the first grade team for every home game for the rest of the 2008 season.

The HMNLS Andre Rieu aircraft carrier under construction at Rotterdam naval dockyards

Broadcast Schedule For The Myopic Monothesists Network (25/5/08)

2008-05-21T17:25:00.005+10:00

6.00 AM: The Richard Nixon Cartoon Connection
The only US president to have resigned from the Oval Office hosts the most entertaining half-hour of cartoons that your children will ever see. With contests, giveaways on air and the occasional break in to your family home Richard Nixon will keep the littlies happy whilst you have a quick bout of pre-breakfast sex.
6.30 AM: Morning News With a Badger
Want to catch up on the world that was awake while you were sound asleep. Tune in to the Morning News presented by a wild badger and be amazed at the news gathering resources available to a large wood and heath living mammal.
7.00 AM: The Daily Get Up Show
Join your hosts Gaylene Mandible, Walter Koenig (yes, that guy who was Chekhov in 'Star Trek') and curmudgeonly black activist/weatherman Afrika Mombasa-Kinte as they ease you into the working day. News, views, interviews, celebrity gossip and appendectomies all get aired alongside Gaylene's dirty laundry during The Daily Get Up Show.
9.00 AM: Now You're Up Do Something Variety Hour
German rocket scientist Werner Von Braun and his fair Egyptian co-host Hatshepsut keep blabbering on about cookware and funeral plans now that hubby or wifey have gone to work. The Trotskyite Dancers will stun you with their tango skills as well as their chronic lumbago.
10.00 AM: Mummy, Who's That In Your Closet?
In this week's episode of the classic 70s American sitcom, Desmond and Pauline Congeal come home from school and find their school principal Mr Harris nude in their mummy's closet. Mrs Congeal tries to explain to her kids that Mr Harris was giving her some instruction in Coptic Greek. Rated G.
10.30 AM: The Love U-Boat
Kapitain Wagner and the jolly crew of U-701 just happen to sink a merchant vessel carrying rubber prophylactics and Belgian nurses home for a naughty weekend away from the front line. U-Boat barman Levy Finkelstein mixes a heady cocktail for the captain and his new love interest.
11.30 AM: Morning News and Toad Rubbing
Get up to date with local, regional, international and veterinary news thanks to morning news host Kenrick Hamster as he takes a cane toad and rubs it.
11.55 AM: Thought for The Day
Bishop Aloysius Catamite from the First Episcopalean Nun-Chuks of Christ delivers his daily homily on Jesus, life and car shopping. Not for those of an Islamic persuasion.
12.00 PM: Midday Movie - I Was A Teenage Conveyancer
Michael J Fox joins Archbishop Desmond Tutu and French pioneer aviator Louis Bleriot in a mild sex-romp about a Canadian boy who goes to school during the day, but at night seduces wealthy women as he does their conveyancing. Also starring Madonna as a coffee table.
2.15 PM: Community Notice Board
What's happening in your town will be announced here every day, with chirpy funster Josef Stalin passing out info on local events. Hamlet's better half Ophelia will also pop in to show us some of the latest gynaecological implements on offer at your local ob/gyn specialist.
2.30 PM: Candid Commode
Legendary British singer Gary Glitter and his side kick King Haakon VII bring you the viewer an hour of merriment and giggles as they trap unsuspecting men and women in their very own 13 camera equipped public toilet. Today's special celebrity victim is Aussie tennis legend Jelena Dokovic.
3.30 PM: I F-cking Dare Ya
The best ever reality show ever axed after 3 episodes returns in repeats today, and home viewers will thrill as they watch ordinary people being asked to do blatantly stupid or suicidal things for bugger all. Highlights from today's show include a property valuer from Bangkok being dared to give a male Grey Nurse shark a wedgie. Also watch for the hysterical moment when ex-German chancellor Helmut Kohl realises he's been 'f-cking dared' to eat the entire original codex of William the Conquerer's 'Domesday Book'. Also available in widescreen HD.
4.00 PM: Kama Sutra For Kids
Wearied by boring school-oriented quiz shows? Well forget your ennui today as you watch the boys from Scots Presbyterian Grammar School Kiev take on the girls from the 3rd SS Panzer Division in identifying as many Kama Sutra positions they can through only the human senses of touch and taste. Hosted by quiz master Stephen Hawkings.
4.30 PM: The Dudley Dugong Show
Home from work and need another bout of under-the-sheets nude tangoing? Then prop the bubs and the kiddies in front of your TV and let Dudley Dugong (a.k.a. Trevor 'Evil Clown' Barrett, on day release after molesting a chicken) keep them out of the room where clothes are optional.
5.00 PM: Dollars, Box or Cheese?
Jovial host Charles Manson rewards canny audience members if they can successfully chose between taking home $1.78 million in cash, a cardboard box filled with belly button lint or a block of Edam cheese. The block of cheese has to go off tonight!
5.30 PM: Cooking With The Klan
Grand Kukla Artabaznes and his white supremicist minion Exalted Cyclops Cyril McWhirter whip up dinner treats for your table tonight. Tonight's menu includes White Pudding, White Christmas and White Forest Cake.
6.00 PM: The MMN Evening News Emporium
Get up to speed on everything that made your world rotate on its axis with Evening News Host Pope Boniface and suffragette Emily Pankhurst. Sport is presented by Chilean ex-dictator General Pinochet and weather, tidal information and plague warnings provided by sexy great-grandmother Cher.
6.30 PM: In Your Face Or Barging Through Your Door
Current affairs and in-depth news is taken to a new level by Japanese war criminal Hideki Tojo as he asks the hard questions of those bastard politicians, shonky businessmen and large breasted celebrities who keep you from attaining the perfect life.
7.00 PM: Pork Bay
The legendary soap that combined teenage life and love with seaside piggeries. In tonight's episode Tourette's sufferer Bindi finds out that her lover Waylon has been masquerading as a member of the exiled Albanian royal family. Meanwhile wily old Bert Sodden tricks trainee pig slaughterer Kylie into spending the night at his house with only a bag of pork crackling and a pair of crotchless underpants for the evening's entertainment.
7.30 PM: Waiting for Godot Squad
Detective Beckett and Senior Sargeant Satre spend their 204th day on surveillance outside the Godot crack house. Meanwhile Inspector Huis Clos finally gets to the bottom of the Ionesco home invasions, and discovers that the Academie Francais has been pulling the criminal strings after all.
8.30 PM: Lavatory Nightmares
Public convenience wunderkind and guru Clyde McPhatter is called in to yet another toilet complex to make sure that the cisterns are still attracting customers. This week the Bide'a'Wee Washroom and Pissoir in Volgograd, Russia gets the McPhatter touch as he turns it from a filth encrusted pole over a pit into a literal palace for human excretion.
9.30 PM: The Benny Elias Hour
In a previous life Benny Elias was a rugby league player for the Balmain Tigers. Now, thanks to the largesse of this broadcaster's owners and a grant from the Australian Arts Council Benny Elias gets to show us how he sees the world. Combining interviews with the powerful and the cerebrally dead, taking you the viewer into the streets of your town, his town and the town between his town and your town, and finally bringing into the studio a great act from European pop music (this week it's the Nena and '99 Luftsballoons'), Benny is the consumate entertainer.
10.30 PM: The Picadors
Quality crime drama combined with the travails of an ordinary member of the bull fighting community on the south coast of New South wales. Enrique Picador spends most of tonight's episode talking to his psychologist on why he had to put a hit on Juan Siesta of the Bega Siesta family. Meanwhile Maria Picador is frought by guilt over her crime-funded lifestyle as she shops for cutlery in the Wollongong Crown Street mall.
11.30 PM: Barry the Bulgar's Late Night Bulletin
Noted comedian and transexual bomber pilot Barry Smirnov puts his own unique twist on the day's news, live from his studio in Plovdiv. Tonight is 'Politicians & Their Ear Wax' night, and Barry promises to really get into the inner ear of US presidential hopeful Barak Obama.
12.00 PM: The Trouser Expander Movie - 'Sex, Lies and the Erotic Dry Cleaner'
For the slightly flaccid or the libido-suppressed tonights movie guarantees at least three orgasms before the first commercial break. This prime piece of prurient cinema follows the work of Jorge and his diminuitive girlfriend Elise as they work together both clothed and in the nude to remove stains from their own their customer's gussets. Rated M. (May include scenes of a sexual or domestic laundry nature)
1.40 AM: Home Shopping With Gareth Evans
Australia's best appeaser of the Suharto military dictatorship makes sure that the best bargains are available in the wee small hours. Call 1-800-Love-Alitas and pick up a monogrammed Paul Keating Tea Cosy from Gareth.
2.30 AM: Australia Versus China: 3rd Projectile Vomiting Test
Live from Guangzhou the Green and Gold Carpet Stainers take on the People's Pea and Carrot Hurlers in an international regurgitation-off for the much desired Charlotte Bronte Cup. The winner of this tie will progress to meet the Liechtenstein Spewers at the Moscow Olympic Stadium. Rolf Harris and Heidi Klum provide expert commentary with Milton Friedman offering sideline analysis.
5.00 AM: God, The Universe & Skeet Shooting
Leaders of the major faiths meet in the first ever tournament to decide whether or not God exists and if so what is his/her/their preferred religion. This week Iman Wraithof Khan takes on Swami River to decide whether Islam or Buddhism will confront the Mormons.

Forgotten Legends of Rugby League

2008-05-15T21:36:00.005+10:00

As has been widely celebrated amongst the cognoscenti, the hoi polloi and the good burghers of Australian Rugby League, 2008 marks the centenary of the formal organisation of the greatest game of all (excluding football, cricket, golf, tennis, korfball and nude battling tops) in the land down under (or at least the northern eastern bits). In this, my first in a series of articles (sponsored by Patra Orange Juice, Meapro Ham and Viking Saunas) focusing on the history of a sport that was described by noted French philosopher and playwright Jean Paul Satre as "Quel est ce jeu avec les hommes laids?", I'd like to draw the non-league loving Joe Public's attention to some of the lesser but still great players of yesteryear. Forget the likes of Wally Lewis, Bob Fulton or Graeme Langlands, the careers I will briefly summarise below provide the true meat and potatoes in the sumptuous banquet that is 100 years of Australian Rugby League.

Clive 'Digger' McGee (1882 - 1915)
Captain-coach of the Cumberland Dog-Botherers, Clive was a mercurial five-eighth with the ability to both pivot and sell the dummy either to the left or right, whilst at the same time translate Dante's "Inferno" into hendecasyllables. Much respected by his team mates, the Australasian Federation of Banjo Manufacturers and the Ecuadorial Consul-general, McGee wracked up the then record tally of 15 tries, three skin diseases and one case of stigmata in the 1908 season. McGee volunteered to serve in the Australian Imperial Force at the outbreak of World war One, and whilst his service in the Royal Australian Army Catering Corps was short he brought immeasurable glory to his name by starting the first kick and chase bayonet attack on the Lone Pine positions during the Gallipoli campaign.

Artie Farqhuarson (1895 - 1961)
When the old club house of the Annandale Dales was dug up in 1979 the resident Rugby League archaeologists appointed to inspect the site were amazed to find an intact pair of Farqhuarson's team shorts. Considering that the Dales and Artie had last featured in a NSW Rugby league premiership in 1920 stories of his extra large pants and the equipment he had to fill them were dismissed as urban league legends. Yet now the proof was there before one and all, and the once notorious rugby league manhood of 'Old Farqhuar' as Artie was known was briefly resurrected. In a moving ceremony before the St George Vs Canterbury grand final replay that year Artie's widow Desdemona was reunited with her dead husband's league pants, which left many league lover's eyes damp with sympathetic tears.

Ted 'Tooley' Burton (1901 - 1970)
'Tooley' Burton played almost all his first grade rugby league career at the Glebe Fruiterers (also known as the Glebe Nihilists, the Glebe Dirty Reds, the Glebe Dirty Mauves and the Glebe Optometrists), with his favoured positions being either front row forward or team chaplain. Ted was the first graduate of the Collarenabri Rugby League Primary School to actually play in a premiership game without recording a police conviction (Glebe Vs Newton, Round 12 1926). A keen bird spotter and champion lute player, Burton was arguably most renowned for his spectacular 312 metre length of the field try scored against the Group 17 regional champions, the Warilla Blind Limpers in the 1928 pre-season cup. Unfortunately when the Glebe team was cut from the NSW rugby league premiership in 1929 Ted 'Tooley' Burton fell on hard times and was reduced to reciting Gerard Manley Hopkin's poetry in the nude, on the corner of George and Kent Street , taking small gifts of money and bread to survive.

Mario Le Corbusier (1914 - 1947)
Le Corbusier was the only French-speaking and fully qualified architect to have ever transferred from Brisbane club Brothers to the Newtown Bluebags (latterly known as the Jets), debuting for his Sydney team in 1933 in the position of hooker. With a face described by Rugby League authority Rex 'Moose' Mossop as 'a homage to the Cubist work of Leger and Picasso, with a bloody big schnozz broken at least 12 times', Mario always found himself at the epicentre of the Newtown defensive line. Sent off a record 36 times in the 1938 season (including four times in the one game against the Eastern Suburbs Roosters), Le Corbusier returned to Brisbane after being arraigned for the molestation of Canterbury-Bankstown Berries lock Norm 'Tadger-Tugger' Ferkin during the 1943 season's semi-finals. Mario then committed suicide when his design for the home ground of the Babinda Cane Toad Sexers, who inspired by this act went on to win the inaugral 1948 Foley Shield.

Billy Duodenum (1920 - 1989)
When St George won their first NSW premiership in 1941 the engine room that was the forwards pack was driven by two gifted yet illiterate props (Dunc Gibraltar and Kevin 'The Rabelaisian' Monckton), guided by a lock with a gift for Japanese haiku (Morgan Synge-Dettol) and swung around by a pair of second rowers (Eric Himmler and Charlie Eumundi). Yet it was the hooker Billy Duodenum (or 'Inner Tube' as he was called by the kids of Kogarah) who brought much of the success won by the Saints of 41. Billy had been brought up by his mother Gaylene to love the red and white strip and was trained from an early age to scrummage with older children, adults, strangers, coprophiles and Seventh Day Adventists. Spotted at a Menai Cheese-Eaters versus Hurstville Jesuits game by then Saints coach Larry Pilate, the young Duodenum debuted against Souths in a spiteful quarter-final which was left unfinished as Robert Menzies announced Australia's entrance into the Second World War with Saints up 17-15 with 5 minutes to play. Two years later Billy won an incredible 75 scrums against the head in the grand final between Saint George and Easts, as well as fathering twins with his girlfriend Esme Trollop in the half-time break, behind the Brewongle Stand at the SCG. A feared club administrator in later years, Billy was the first man to support legendary Saints stalwart Johnny Raper to realise his rugby league dream at the club. In fact Raper's first pair of boots were funded by the then 43 year old Duodenum taking tuppence for every funnel web spider he could stuff down his underpants and then walk along the Princes Highway between Hurstville and the Sutherland turn-off. Billy died in 1993 just as the Brisbane Broncos knocked over his beloved Dragons, and his last words were reputedly 'That f-cking ref is f-cking blind the f-cking c-nt....your holiness.'

Clive 'Digger' McGee reciting 'The Lays of Ancient Rome' after scoring a try for the Cumberland Dog-Botherers in 1912. against Eastern Suburbs

The Concise Stupid Encyclopaedia of Popular Music

2008-03-12T20:55:00.002+11:00

The original title of The Byrds classic number one hit 'Mr Tambourine Man' (as written by Bob Dylan) was 'Mr Euphonium Man'. Dylan was then convinced by Joan Baez that this was sexist so he changed it to 'Miss Euphonium Woman'. However this caused consternation with the US Society of Meteorologists who had already consulted with Dylan for 'Rainy Day Woman', so Dylan changed it back to 'Mr Euphonium Man', whereas Roger McGuinn gave Dylan a wedgie backstage at the Fillmore East, complaining that Dave Crosby's euphonium had been repossessed, so they needed the song framed with those musical instruments left in Crosby's Buick station wagon. The rest as they say is history.
Legendary late 70s/early 80s British three piece act The Police were origanlly a foursome. Alongside Andy Sumners, Stewart Copeland and Gordon 'Sting' Sumner there was a ska clarinettist, Desmond 'Blind Kapok' Ackland. Originally recruited by Sting because he was really good at driving the band to their first gig in Belgium, 'Blind Kapok' (a native Jamaican and adopted Mongolian) was credited with inspiring such hits as 'Ce Plane Pour Moi', 'Afternoon Delight' and 'Santa Claus Never Made it Into Darwin'. Of course the problem was none of these singles were actually recorded by The Police. After 3 gigs in a Turkish brothel were spoiled by Ackland spontaneously combusting he was fired by Stewart Copeland. The last that was heard of 'Blind Kapok' Ackland was that he was selling fascimilies of Sting's kidneys in Atlanta, Georgia.
Elvis Presley converted to Islam just before his fatal cardiac arrest. His new Islamic name was Mohammed Bin Summa Isfahan Doughnut El-Masri. His last hit single before his death, 'Way Down' is actually a free adaptation of the 81st Quranic Sura, 'The Folded Up'. In certain parts of the Islamic Republic of Iran images of Elvis are paraded alongside those of the Ayatollah Khomeini on the last night of Ramadan.
Johnny Cash was originally 'The Man in Chartreuse', however whilst backstage at his legendary concert in Folsom Prison a prisoner serving 12 years for igniting cheese in a public place (Eric 'Mad Pacificist' Van Buren) accidentally burnt Cash's pants and jacket. the charred remains were then draped over the barely livid country music legend, who went out and proclaimed himself 'the Man in Black and bugger the wardens...'.
The Beach Boys weren't just the archetypal performers of Californian surf music, but also a group of incredibly gifted philosophers. Dennis Wilson was an Epicurean, whilst Carl Wilson was a stoic. Mike Love translated every tract ever written by Schopenauer from the original German into 4/4 bar room boogie rhythms, whilst Al Jardine found his inspiration for his vocals on 'Help Me Rhonda' after reading Plotinus's 'Enneads'. Finally Brian Wilson's amazing compositional and production work on 'Pet Sounds' was directly as a result of his study of Aristotelian philosophy whilst eating four day old pizzas.

Vice Regal Report for His Excellency The Governor General of St Crippens

2008-01-17T20:55:00.001+11:00

(This report was first posted in the St Crippens Bugle & Bidet, January 7th 2008)

In the first week of the new year His Excellency General Sir Fortescue Talbot McBra-Burner, honoured and most esteemed Governor General of the Commonwealth nation of St Crippens began his commission both vigorously and free of any skin conditions that admittedly had plagued his predecessor Sir Giles Speculum.

Greeted on his arrival in our fair Caribbean island nation by the Prime Minister Walcott O'Dinga at the Dengue Fever International Airport on Monday, the Governor General and his wife Lady Incontinence McBra-Burner (nee Staphylococcus of the famous Cardiff Staphylococci) were transported to Government House by the Official Vice Regal Hyundai Excel. Upon arrival at Government House the Vice Regal Party an honour guard from the 1st Battalion Royal St Crippens Regiment saluted the new Governor General:

The Official Vice Regal Military Honour Guard

After a luncheon hosted by PM O'Dinga and St Crippen's parliamentary Opposition Leader Desmond Artichoke (leader of the SCLFU or St Crippen's Leftist Falangist Union), the Vice Regal Party retired for the day after being sown into hessian bags by their aide de camp Major Terence Sodomy.

Tuesday:
The Governor General met with local butchers this morning and discussed with them St Crippen's booming trade in tripe. The delegation of butchers were glad to hear that the new Vice Regal representative was aware of how important offal was to the St Crippen's macroeconomic landscape. The 3 hour meeting (held in the finest reception centre in the capital, Coprophilia) was concluded with a Butchers versus Governor General match of nude Battling Tops.

Whilst General Sir McBra-Burner met with the butchers and then dozed lightly under the tracks of a M1A1 Abrams Main Battle Tank, Lady McBra-Burner went to St Crippen's only Orphanage and Brewery. Flatulence House, brewers of such fine beers as "Abandoned Bastard Lager", "Parents Died Mysteriously Pilsener" and "Mummy Ran Off With The Hairdresser Pale Ale" provided the Governor General's wife with an extensive tour of the facilities, and then presented her with a carton of the world famous "My Father Is Gay and Gave Me Away Because of the Shame Bitter" and a selection of small parent-less children for her to exploit during the Governor General's term of office.

Wednesday
Lady McBra-Burner was indisposed today due to a rather contagious lesion which was suppurating between her cloaca and her thyroid gland, so it was left to Governor General McBra-Burner to wish a hearty farewell to the St Crippen's Olympic team as they boarded their Ju-87 Stuka dive bomber flight to the Beijing Olympics.

Air St Crippen's Express Flight to Beijing 2008 prepped for take-off

In the evening the Governor General attended the premiere of the latest theatrical from legendary St Crippen's playwright Tobias Ringworm. "Tally Me Banana" is a rabble-rousing musical based on the life of legendary freedom fighter and first prime minister of St Crippens, Vanburn Holder and the rumours of his gay relationship with noted 1950s calypso singer from West St Crippens, Harry Belalugosi. General Sir McBra-Burner was heard to comment to his aide de camp that "Tally Me Banana" is the best Caribbean musical he has seen since catching the Andre Lloyd-Webber/Viv Richards production of "Rohan Kanhai: The Musical" at Aldershot army base in 1983.

Thursday:
The Vice Regal Party, as well as celebrated 80s rocker and semi-retired St Crippens resident Limahl were the special judges of the annual Miss St Crippen's beauty pageant. The Governor General was particularly taken with the eventual winner Noelene Cucumber, who scored maximum points in both the swimsuit and field-stripping a M60 machine gun sections of the contest. Noelene (a student taxidermist at the Royal St Crippens Veterinary Hospital and Steak House) was less warmly received by Lady McBra-Burner, who may have been over-eager to criticize the pageant contestant after she discovered Miss Cucumber's lipstick smudged on the Governor General's right ear, coccyx bone and vas deferens.

Lady Incontinence McBra-Burner in Vice Regal garb at the Miss St Crippens Pageant

Friday:
The end of the first working week for General Sir McBra-Burner as the new Governor General of St Crippens. The Vice Regal party were captivated by a 47 minute phone call from HRH Queen Elizabeth II who asked the Governor General if he had found any well-endowed native St Crippian men who would be willing to spend time with an elderly woman living near the heart of London. The Governor General is believed to still be on the look out for such fine example's of the nation's manhood, or failing that is willing to spend half of next week's Vice Regal budget on extremely large and suggestive items of fruit and/or vegetables.

St Crippen's Governor General, General Sir Fortescue Talbot McBra-Burner in the ceremonial uniform of his old British Army Regiment, the Queens Own Scottish Drunk Bastards

Latest Results from the SPL (or Movie Sequels Mano-a-Mano)

2008-01-15T23:32:00.000+11:00

Here are the latest results from the Sequels Professional League, after the season's final round:

Rocky 4 defeated Rambo 3
A spiteful game that saw Dolph Lundgren sent off in the 37th minute of the second half for an illegal punch on Richard Crenna

Star Trek 6 defeated Star Wars 2
Chewbacca was consistently outclassed by Lt.Cmdr Chekhov in the goal mouth. Spock scored a hat-trick

Police Academy 4 drew with Saw 4
Steve Guttenburg slotted home the equalizer through the legs of the Jigsaw killer in the dying moments of the game

Mad Max 3 defeated Terminator 2
Don't expect Arnold to be back for the semi-finals thanks to his gormless approach to the Mad Max 3 striker combination of Tina Turner and Mel Gibson

Lethal Weapon 4 defeated Shrek 2
Mel Gibson doubled up for fullback duty after the Mad Max versus Terminator game and was a delight in stopping Princess Fiona from adding to her goal tally for the year.

Jurassic Park 3 defeated Land Before Time 2
Undoubtedly a masterful victory for the CGI Raptors over the cartoon drawn baby dinosaurs.

Godfather 3 drew with Back to the Future 3
Hardly surprising dull match between two of the lower ranked members of the SPL. The Godfather team are under relegation threat and could be replaced by Grease 2 in the 2008/2009 season.

The Omen 2 drew with Evil Dead 2
Hell of a game. Damian Thorne has grown up into a real demon of a performer both on and off the pitch.

The Exorcist 3 drew with Lord of the Rings 3
A real head-turner of a game, but perhaps drawn out by the incessant use of the offside trap by Gollum, Frodo and Aragorn during extra time.

Caddyshack 2 defeated by Robocop 3
Who knew that a rocket propelled automaton police officer could knock off a bunch of whacky golfers? Probably everyone.

So in next week's major preliminary semi-final Jurassic Park takes on Shrek at the Munich Olympic stadium, whilst at the MCG in the elimination semi Mad Max is drawn to play The Omen. The bye is awarded to table champions Star Trek, who are looking to go all the way to 11 if they win through to the final.

Restaurant Review: The Dyslexic Huguenot

2007-12-18T20:04:00.000+11:00

Salutations Food Fans, lovers of les arts gastronomique, and hungry bastards everywhere. I'm sure that, just like me you were literally salivating into 44 gallon drums when you heard the news that master chef and legend of the culinary arts Jean-Phillipe Panzer was finally opening a new restaurant in Sydney. After years of success with his Parisian restaurant 'La Pouillet et la Voiture', which won an unprecedented four Michelin stars thanks to its signature dish Duck Confit on a bed of shrapnel and roast buffalo hooves, maestro Panzer has decided that Australia is ready for his unique insight into shaping food fashion whilst increasing our exposure to arteriosclerosis by a factor of 230. Thankfully, as your esteemed restaurant reviewer and commissioned author for the court of King Rupert the Murdoch I gained exclusive access to Panzer's new restaurant, The Dyslexic Huguenot only two days after its opening (and three weeks after its first food poisoning case).

First off, Jean Phillipe Panzer is to be congratulated for his audacity and his boldness in placing The Dyslexic Huguenot where he has. Unlike his aspiring rivals, Panzer has avoided the high street locations of supposedly great Sydney restaurants, juxtaposed perhaps near the famed Sydney Opera House, or nestled in a side-street in Surry Hills or Glebe. Panzer is not so mundane, not so conventional. The French legend has secured an incredibly memorable, if perhaps somewhat confrontational to passer-by and diners alike, location for The Dyslexic Huguenot in a cardboard and corrugated lean-to pitch slap-bang in the middle of North Ryde Garbage Dump. I've been told by a good friend and real estate agent for Jean Phillipe that his choice of this position all came down to a desire to plunge the casual gastronome and the fully-committed fat prick into an experience where the nose was prompting one to vomit, whilst the tongue was giving you an orgasm. The lurid khaki walls dotted with art works by Albert Namatjira, Claude Monet, David Hookes and Vincent Van Gogh certainly grabs ones attention, but not to the detriment of the surrealist menu designed by Salvador Dali and ex-English soccer coach Sven Goran Erickson.

And now, a word about the service. The word is 'incontinent'. This is not meant to be a criticism, but the dribbling nature of my waiter for the night (a hunchback who called himself Bevan and kept humming songs from Michael Jackson's album 'Thriller') was slightly disappointing. I've been given a better reception back at Panzer's home restaurant 'La Pouillet...', when during an attack of spontaneous combustion and dysentery the Maitre-D brought me both a fire retardant and a roll of super-soft toilet paper. Bevan the waiter was slightly less attentive, including accidentally throwing a punch at my dinner companion, spitting on a fellow diner who had decided they didn't like the soup spoon lain upon their table, and then arguing about Descartes and his interpretation of the rules of Scrabble with the concierge. I'm sure the rough edges on Bevan will be knocked off tout suite, and if not a whispered word from Panzer followed by a stabbing in the kidney will improve service levels.

I was seated after some time at the so-called 'duxieme table avec frommage' by Bevan the waiter, and as soon as he had meandered off to the kitchen I was assailed by a veritable French Foreign Legion of service staff. Firstly there was Gustave, our sommelier. He produced a wine list which was at least 3 cubits in length, and his recommendations included an 1865 Chateau Mouton Kevin Bloody Wilson Beauljolais, a 1973 Dapto Leagues Club Rose and a 1713 Royal Reserve Port. I ignored his suggestions and instead opted for a bottle of 2001 Fallujah Anti-Tank Rocket Launcher Claret and a wineskin of the 1387 Alan Border Pearl of The Torrens Chablis. The wines were delivered with great solemnity by Gustave, and I was surprised by both the fruity nose and the napalm tannins of the Claret particularly.

Desdemona, my mineral water waiter successfully sold me on a $154 bottle of Mont Saint Kembla Aqua Canis, and her assistant Othello brought me a napkin woven by Martin Bormann, with tulle lace embroidered by Chuck Berry. Dieter the Candle-Meister delivered a hand crafted ear-wax and TNT candle which gave 300 watts of illumination, engraved with scenes from the Illyrian campaigns of the Roman emperor Claudius Gothicus II. Finally, Thaddeus the wash room attendant delivered a hazelnut and saffron scented urinal deodorant cake and a bucket with wrought iron filigree for micturition purposes. Each staff member asked for a small gratuity, and thankfully having been to Jean-Phillipe Panzer's Parisian HQ I was prepared with a chrism of sputum, which I gave out freely and generously.

After about an hour of negotiating these selections I was ready to order the meal of my life (or at least the meal of the evening). Bevan had returned, sporting a bandage around a semi-obvious stab wound to the right kidney and the a la carte menu. I was tempted by both the degustation and the regurgitation menus, but instead decided to order a simple three course meal. My order was as follows.

Entrée: Jura District Swiss Rosti Supplanted by a Crown of Smoked Camel Lips, Creme Freche, Star Anais and Krill, with a lime and brick dust reduction.
Main: Seared Pan Fillet of Goat Rump smacked several times against the buttocks of a Polish washer-woman, smothered with Beetroot tops, Sturgeon caviar and Kraft processed Cheese, in a pottage of Yak's Butter
Dessert: Vanilla Ice Cream and Lime Jelly (served en compote in a 1947 Silver Ghost Rolls Royce)

I am willing to admit that I was tempted by Chef Panzer's cheese board, which included Norwegian Blue, Japanese Walnut and Myxomatosis Chedder, Hungarian Marijuana Halvati and an exceedingly crumbly Fort Lauderdale Halitosis Camembert, but my doctor and my mortician have advised me that I need to cut down on my intake of cholesterol, fatty acids, pesticides and hallucinogenics.

The rosti was cooked to perfection which gave just the right overture to the dining symphony I was on the receiving end of at The Dyslexic Huguenot, but I found the camel lips a bit too fatuous for my liking. Jewish/Tklingit chef Nanook Goldstein serves a far more tender camel lip crown at his Melbourne eatery The Seal Skin Yarmulke (on the corner of Bourke and Little Lonsdale Streets). Yet Goldstein doesn't match the adventurous attitude to hygiene represented by Panzer's home-fermented krill.

After 3 hours of indigestion and stomach pumping I was ready for my main. My goat's rump was cooked medium, with a delightful tinge of pink. I could definitely taste the Polish washer-woman, and I am not certain but I believe that the lady in question was probably from Krakow and not as usual Gdansk or Lodz. The Kraft Processed Cheddar was a delicious accompaniment, particularly with remnants of the tinfoil wrapping clinging to my teeth with every scrummy bite. The sturgeon caviar on the other hand was at best industrial, and at worst rabbit's droppings. But I am happy to give Chef Panzer the benefit of the doubt (as well as sexual access to my wife).

Two hours of dry retching cleared my palate as well as the surrounding tables, my bank balance and the air space above the restaurant, preparing me for the vanilla ice cream and lime jelly, served in one of the classic British luxury cars. Again Chef Panzer rocked my gastronomic socks by inserting not just one but two gastropods on the driver's seat of the car, and I can but laugh, cry, scratch my fundus and dance the lambada in amused despair at the audacity of Jean Phillipe. Bravo Chef! Bravo The Dyslexic Huguenot!

And so, as I was carried out of the finest dining establishment in Sydney this side of Baghdad's Green Zone, I felt an inner sense of bleeding and completion thanks to the dining experience provided by Jean Phillipe Panzer. I would happily recommend anyone who wants to enjoy a unique culinary experience whilst reducing their stomach lining to a deadened layer of polyps and blackened intestinal walls to get their knees under the tables of The Dyslexic Huguenot. And thanks to mon chef, I am of the conviction that no more will Sydney be considered an open sore on the flyblown carcass that is supposed to be Australian fine dining.

Ratings:

Service: 3 Drunken Businessmen
Decor: 2.5 Gay Interior Decorators
Value for Money: 7 Keynesian Economists
Originality of Food: 16 Stars
Food Poisoning Remedies: 5 Heimlich Maneuvers

The Super-Amazing World Race: Preview

2007-12-17T13:55:00.000+11:00

Welcome viewers to the first weekly summary of the latest reality TV program broadcast to incredibly successful ratings figures, only three paternity suits and a tie-in marketing campaign with erotic fast food supplier "Anatomically Correct Hot Dogs Inc", "The Super-Amazing World Race". Known amongst TV cognoscenti as 'Saw-Rs', this exciting around-the globe reality contest is broadcast on some of the finest TV channels in over 217 countries world-wide. With each episode being first shown on Guatemala City's GUAT-6 channel, I'll be posting summaries and reviews as soon as I can after the program's airing. And by the way, if you think this is a cheap rip-off of "The Amazing Race" please be assured that we have not been cheap (except in terms of make-up and the lithium medication required by the shows host V.I. Lenin).

Anyway, this year's "SAW-Rs" was eagerly awaited when the contestant list was released to the gob-smacked media. In case you've forgotten or contracted a debilitating case of gonorrhoea, here are the men and women chasing each other around the world each week in the hope it'll be them breasting the line and winning the final grand prize.

Napoleon & Evel Knieval: The French dictator and his American daredevil motorcyclist partner expect to be strong in those countries with the croissant on the breakfast menu, or with a predilection for jumping canyons on motorbikes.
Marilyn Monroe & Arthur Miller: iconic American newlyweds, expect the sparks to fly and the bed sheets to ripped asunder when the star of "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" and the author of "The Crucible" try and hitch a ride on a Filipino jeepny.
Cleopatra & Paris Hilton: One is an Egyptian queen with great seductive powers and a Greek accent, the other is a tramp with a bad driving record...who will be the first to get it on with a sweaty Turkish donkey salesmen as they race around the globe?
Albert Einstein & Buddy Holly: the man who succeeded Isaac Newton as the pre-eminent physicist, paired with a Texan with an ear for great pop tunes and a huge fear of flying. How will Albert convince Buddy to get on to the Aeroflot airliner...watch and learn!
Helmut Kohl & Jennifer Anniston: Few people realize that when the Berlin Wall fell West German Chancellor Kohl was engaged in a torrid pen-pal romance with future "Friends" star Anniston. Can love be reignited as Helmut and Jen run down the Champs Elysee carrying a gross of marital aids?
Jane Austen & George Eliot: "People don't think that Victorian-era female novelists can drag a buffalo through a rice paddy, all in the name of winning the final prize...well George & I are out to prove the nay sayers wrong. Upon my word!"
Pele & Karl Marx: If religion is the opium of the masses, celebrated Commie Kraut Karl Marx firmly believes soccer is the crack heroin of the masses and Pele is the dealer.
Abraham Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth: One is arguably the greatest President that has served the United States of America. The other is the man who shot him. The question is; can they get past their differences and win the "SAW-Rs"?
Julius Caesar & Caesar Romero: The actor who earnt world fame portraying 'The Joker' on TV's "Batman" comes face to face with the 'veni, vidi, vici' man himself, Julius Caesar. How will these two hot-blooded Latins cope with the race's challenge?
Ho Chi Minh & Tammy Wynette: Country music and Vietnamese revolutionary fervour are the impelling motivations as Ho and Terry race around the globe in pursuit of TV's most glittering prize.
Shirley Temple & Heinrich Himmler: Don't underestimate this pairing of the greatest child actor cinema has ever seen with the man who was the architect of Hitler's "Final Solution". A ruthless pair of competitors who will make you sing as they race past you.
Confucius and Rodney Rude: Arguably the wisest sage and philosopher from the Middle Kingdom is joined by the funniest Australian comedian to use "I hate that..." as his catch-cry. Best buddies and surprisingly athletic, considering Confucius' corpulent body

As you can imagine, the production team behind "The Super-Amazing World Race" expect high drama, low comedy, middle class incomes and perhaps gratuitous nudity as these twelve teams battle each other to claim the ultimate prize. From a Borneo death cell to a chartered accountants office in Abu Dhabi these 24 brave and adventurous souls will be going toe-to-toe, mano-a-mano, one-on-one and stick-your-left-leg-in to secure reality TV infamy. Stay tuned fans!!

Shirley Temple & Heinrich Himmler: Ready to battle for Reality TV glory!

Coming Next: Episode One & The Race Begins

New Olympic Sports: My Proposals

2007-12-12T07:15:00.000+11:00

I note with a tinge of bucolic malaria that my much beloved sport of cricket, in the form of the stunted midget prostitute version 20/20 is being touted as a potential returnee to the global sporting carnival that is the Summer Olympics. As hard as it has been to contain my frabjous joy may I suggest the following sports have a far better chance of entering the five ringed circus:

Bear Baiting

I for one would thrill to see a la synchronized swimming attractive young ladies in sequined swimsuits using rocks, cattle prods, fishing poles and rottweilers to bring a fully grown adult Alaskan bear into a rage of unbridled bestial anger, all in the name of 'Citius, Altius, Fortius', and of course a gold medal draped around the winner's petite neck. Expect the Russians and the British to do very well.

Wife Swapping

Ye olde and ancyent game of wife swapping first appears in Geoffrey Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales", as 'The Wyffe Swoppers Tale', and hence its age and traditions make it a natural inclusion to the Olympic program. Whilst the British, French, Germans and Americans have arguably a head start over the rest of the wife swapping world, don't be surprised if the countries that formed the old USSR (particularly the Ukraine and the Baltic states), Thailand, The Philipines and Mexico mount the medal podium (aside from other mountings they make).

Bog snorkelling

It's pretty hard to imagine how well the open water swimmers will go when they don the togs and dive into the Yanghtze for Beijing 2008, or the Thames for London 2012. But with bog snorkelling the average Olympic punter gets a deep and dare I say pungent insight into what the Olympic 10km swimmers will be up against. Watch out for the French with their Jacques Cousteau Hell-Snorkellers Swim Team, already in training for the Yarra and Melbourne 2024.

Suicide Bombing

The latest sporting craze to hit the hitherto poorly performing Olympic countries of the Middle East and South East Asia, suicide bombing was a traditional strength of the Japanese in the 1940s, and the Chinese and Vietnamese through the 50s and 60s. Don't be surprised to see Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran and Algeria go through the roof with Indonesia and again the Philippines looking to snag a gold medal or two. The big plus as the IOC sees it is that village housing for the athletes need not be allocated for longer than the bombers event, whereas finding volunteers to assist with the event staging would be well nigh impossible.

Pole Dancing & Lap Dancing

Not seen at the Olympics since the 1992 American Basketball team (a.k.a. The Dream Team) won their gold medal and then asked for some of the Cuban women volleyballers to help celebrate their victory, Pole/Lap Dancing are two disciplines within rhythmic gymnastics that will certainly pull in the crowds. What will really make these events truly special will be the awards ceremony, when instead of IOC president Jacques Rogge draping the medals around the necks of the successful athletes, he will slip the medal under the thong or elastic of the medallist.

In summary, when the IOC abandons its obsolete obsession with outmoded and unfashionable sports like boxing, Greco-Roman wrestling and yachting, and instead presents wife swapping and bear baiting, then you'll see the Olympics reach the same dizzying heights of the ancient games.

Top Five Movies That I Wish Were Filmed But Never Got Greenlighted

2007-12-05T13:32:00.002+11:00

I love the movies...film...cinema...flicks. Silent or musicals, westerns or war films, small indie foreign language films or huge Hollywood blockbusters. But over the years there have been lots of productions that never came to my local cinema. Now, thanks to access to the IMDB web site and repeated blows to my head I can reveal my list of top 5 films that never got off the ground, but make my trousers go lumpy when I think about how they would have looked.

1. Carry On Hitler
Sid James as the German dictator, Joan Sims as Goering, Charles Hawtree as Rommel, Jim Dale as Winston Churchill and Barbara Windsor as Eva Braun. Need I say more? Actually, yes I do...particularly when I reflect upon the bunker scene when Sid James accuses the German high command of betrayal just as Barbara Windsor comes in and asks if "Adolf, have you seen my unmentionables?"

Sid James & Barbara Windsor reviewing Wehrmacht troops with no underpants in 'Carry On Hitler'

2. Flying Down To Baghdad
In this remake of the 1933 Astaire/Rogers musical classic "Flying Down to Rio" Donald Rumsfield takes on Fred Astaire's tap-dancing cudgels and guides Filippina strong-woman Gloria Arroyo around the dance halls and lovely Latina quarter of Baghdad's Green Zone. Romance, top hats, kevlar body armour and tangos keep the movie-goer agog and aroused.

Don Rumsfeld serenades Gloria Arroyo with his rendition of 'Top Hat'

3. Saving Ryan's Privates
In this medical soft-porn extravaganza directed by Pedro Almodavar and starring Jenna Jameson as Nurse Ratchet-Up and Tom Sizemore (of the original "Saving Private Ryan") as Captain Lengths, the cinema-goer is grabbed viscerally by the confronting Normandy invasion sequence followed by 117 minutes of gritty footage of men at war with their foreskins in peril. Not for the young or for the easily shocked, "Saving Ryan's Privates" has been awarded four stars by the Catholic Decency League of Honduras. Unfortunately a distribution dispute between Almodovar and the Pink Pussycat Film Agency of Canberra and Seattle has kept this masterpiece under lock and key.

Tom Sizemore waiting to be called into a landing craft for the D-Day invasion, where he'll have a certain piece of anatomy shot off.

4. Hopeless United
A captivating 'underdogs beat the world' sport story, "Hopeless United" depicts in 86 fun-filled, romantic and dare I say cerebral minutes the limbless, deaf, dumb and blind water polo team that represented Portsmouth (the Dullards) at the 1977 European Aquatic Games for the Cheated By Life. Featuring archetypal British leading actors Ewan MacGregor as (as Finn the team captain), Christopher Lee (Bevan the grumpy team coach), Colin Firth (Dick 'Poker' Laughlin, ace goal scorer and team lothario) and Dame Judi Dench (Enid strumpet, love interest for Dick) and Gallic charmer Gerard Depardieu in the villain's role of Valery Giscard D'Stain, captain of the Le Havre Snails. In the climactic finish Firth's 'Poker' Laughlin is drowned by Depardieu, but before he inhales the fatal mouthful of Budapest pool water he takes the shot that wins the Portsmouth Dullards the championship. Rumours have been circulating that Disney are considering a sequel; "Hopeless United Versus The Might Ducks".

Enid & Dick a.k.a Dame Judi Dench and Colin Firth sizzle with sex before the big water polo final.

5. Police Academy 12: Sniffer Vice Dogs
A man who once gave Steve Guttenburg change from a $50 bill stars in this much-anticipated but yet to be finished masterpiece from Ingmar Bergman. The latest bunch of recruits to undergo Police Academy's wacky yet legally sound training regime include Brad Pitt as a French Poodle, ex-Aussie test cricketer Rodney Hogg as a German Alsatian fond of quoting Schopenauer, and blonde bombshell Charlize Theron as Lieutenant Fido, a British Bulldog that packs heat as well as fleas.

Charlize Theron as Police Dog Emma, giving a lesson to the Police Academy Sniffer Vice Dogs on the differing scents of Colombian versus Bolivian cocaine.

Australian PM's XI Team Announcement

2007-12-02T22:04:00.000+11:00

In news that will please every cricket lover as well as those people who haven't had their fill of politics even after the Federal Election, the Australian Cricket Board are pleased to announce the make-up of the Australian Prime Minister's Eleven, which is due to take on the wily Indian touring team under the stewardship of such cricket legends as Tendulkar, Dravid and Ganguly at Manuka Oval next Saturday.

The PM's XI consists of:

Gough Whitlam (NSW: Opening Batsman)
Billy Hughes (NSW: Opening Batsman)
Arthur Fadden (Queensland: No.3 Batsman)
John Gorton (Victoria: No.4 Batsman)
Joe Lyons (Tasmania: No.5 Batsman)
Bob Hawke (Victoria: No.6 Batsman/Right Arm Fast Bowler)
Robert Menzies (Victoria: Wicket Keeper)
Alfred Deakin (Victoria: Leg Spin Bowler)
William MacMahon (NSW: Right Arm Fast-Medium Bowler)
George Reid (NSW: Right Arm Fast Bowler)
John Howard (NSW: Right Arm Off-Spin)
Edmund Barton (NSW: Twelfth Man)

The team staff include Ben Chifley (coach), Malcolm Fraser (scorer) and John McEwan (Physio/Team Doctor).

The ACB would like to thank all those PMs who attended the trial match against the English Chancellors of the Exchequer at the SCG No.2 Ground last Wednesday and whilst we do understand Paul Keating's disappointment at not being selected the ACB decries his decision to spend every moment since the team was announced on commercial radio calling the selection committee 'scumbags' and 'non-representative swine'. The ACB would also like to voice its concern over not being able to contact Victorian left arm paceman Harold Holt since he went to the beach after the trial game. We would also like to thank John Curtin for his motivational speech to the team at the selection breakfast held this morning at the Malaya Hotel, Sydney.

Players to watch for:

Whitlam and Hughes; one is an elitist socialist with an imperial air, the other a small wiry terrier of a man who isn't afraid of being pragmatic either in the House of Representatives or on the pitch facing a West Indian pace bowler. Whitlam and Hughes replaced the previous opening pair of Forde and Scullin when the PM's XI toured Bangladesh in 2001, and have since scored over two dozen century-run partnerships.
Hawke the all-rounder; one minute he's steaming in to bowl one of his 97 mph thunderbolts aimed right at your left temple, the next he's buying a slab of beer and pouring it down both his and your throats to celebrate the consensus of a good day's cricket. Hawke has established himself as the best all-rounder in current world cricket thanks to his 175 not out scored off 74 deliveries as the Wanderers, Cape Town, when he literally got South African strongman FW De Klerk and tore his leg theory bowling apart. He then backed up to take a hat trick of Smuts, Mandela and Kruger and finished the game with bowling figures of 11/82.
Menzies..a consummate glovesman: Few men look more at home taking ball after ball behind the stumps as does Pig Iron Bob. His graceful dives down the leg side to collect the often errant deliveries of now-retired right arm swing bowler Edmund Barton stick in the memory of all who watched these two play together. Rapidly closing in on Neville Chamberlin's world record of 392 dismissals, Bob Menzies is expected to keep playing until the next Liberal Government or the turn of the century, which ever comes first.

Ticket Information:
Tickets for the PM's XI Vs India game can be bought from the ACB's web site, Ticketek and the Chief Whip's Office, Parliament House Canberra. Patrons are reminded that double dissolutions and pitch invasions are strictly prohibited and all spectators are advised to expect only light beer and Black Rod will be available for sustenance at the game.

Bob Hawke and MCC Player John Major at the 1999 CHOGM Cricket Charity Game for Buying Margaret Thatcher a Dress

The 'It's My Party...' Australian Federal Election Wash-Up

2007-11-29T22:32:00.001+11:00

(Here is the text of a speech given by the "It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party" leader, Mr Andrew McDonald as part of his resignation given at the official party election party held at the RSPCA Dog Shelter, Yagoona last Saturday night.)

Men and women and small pouched marsupials of Australia.

First off, I'd like to thank all you gutless, weak-kneed, obviously-inbred, moronic fools who have decided in your finite wisdom not to sweep my party...the party that has taken a sacred oath to put pot into every chicken for the Australian citizenry...to power tonight. Instead of taking the brave, the wise, nay...the ONLY LOGICAL step in electing to the House of Representatives as well as the Senate, the Duma, Congress and the Althing as many "It's My Party..." candidates as you could, you have turned your back on your country's future and elected the ALP. The government elected by you is dominated by crooks, carriers of communicable sexual diseases, blasphemers, charlatans, toadying sycophants and swiving blaggards that I am ashamed to even let onto the same continent as me and my fellow party members.

But that is after all, the democratic process. The same process that brought about Hitler, that raised up Thaksin Shinawatra, that gave the world George Walker Bush has now given us Kevin "Mr Prissy School Prefect" Rudd. You, dear voter, shall reap what you have sowed...sown..voted for...you know what I mean.

And don't come crawling to me when he lets femmo-commo-pinko-lezzo-veggo tree huggers make you wear brown corduroy pants and sing Redgum songs and give every second dollar you earn to some dole bludging artist who wipes his date on a bit of canvas and calls it art. You had you chance. You had your opportunity to give Rudd, to give Howard, to give whoever was left in the Democrats a kick in the cods and a "Get thee behind me Satan...I'm voting for the "It's My Party..Party"." Shame, Australia, shame.

And yet, amongst all this doom and gloom, this angst and schadenfreude, this sturm und drang, there are some bright spots for the next generation of party faithful to look back on and rub themselves frenetically around the area of the mons pubis. Firstly, John Howard has been given the arse, big time. I know that preferences from our candidate in Bennelong, Mrs Enid Knee-Trembler went almost 100% to the successful ALP recruit Maxine McKew, and I'm sure Enid and I are looking forward to receiving a favourable hearing on our request for a block of chocolate shaped like a nude Kim Beazley when Maxine is handing out the treasury largesse in 2008.

Furthermore, in the seat of Dysentry (WA) postal and absentee votes could see our local candidate Norm Pustule defeat both the incumbent Liberal ex-Minister for Gouda and Related Curdish Substances Dame Lucy Vulva and prominent Greens politician and ex-AFL player for the West Coast Eagles Billy 'The Grogan Strangler' McWeeds. Norm, I'm sure if you were on day release and here tonight we would all be giving you a rousing cheer for for your fantastic efforts in the seat of Dysentry, and whilst you have been in the past quite willing to vote in the party-room against me in the last leadership spill, I'm sure that we both hold no grudges and my evidence in the prosecution case against you for the "Bodies in the Biscuit Barrels" murder investigation at Broome will not be used to ultimately condemn you to life without parole.

At this point in my speech I'd like to say a big thank you my loving wife of these last 3 month Marseille, and her sister Boulogne. Many a night on the campaign hustings these two lovely women brought their 16 year old feminine charms to bear against the health-crippling burden of the electioneering, as borne by me. I have been very grateful for their artisan-like usage of custard and crotchless underpants to bring me relief that unfortunately wasn't to be matched tonight with our party's results. And to my ex-wife Lesbia, I hope that your posting with the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade mission to a Mongolian death cell in the neighbourhood of Ulan Bator brings you the career satisfaction that our marriage obviously didn't.

Now I want to make mention of the fantastic efforts put into this campaign by our advertising manager, Ron McLibel of the noted marketing conglomerate McLibel, Faeces & Duodenum (New York & Dapto). Ron, your suggestion that we send every Australian voter a block of lard with the message "Every politician you vote for this election will be greasy...except for your 'It's My Party...' candidate" was a masterstroke of creative genius not seen since Count Zeppelin suggested the Hindenburg would look good with a smoking section immediately below the hydrogen tanks. I'm sure we all want to give Ron a big hand, particularly up onto this horse with the noose hanging down towards the saddle.

In closing, whilst there is a distinct possibility that only the Australian Democrats will poll less that the "It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party" at the 2007 Federal Election, I want to remind you all to hold your heads up high. And if you can't do that then think of any appropriate limb and give that a shake instead. We'll be back bigger, better and with less social diseases requiring treatment in 2010, and whilst our long march to power has been temporarily stalled, in the long run a 1000 year empire based on my leadership is at least a 33/1 shot, and good value in a quinella with "Xanadu" being voted the greatest movie of all time.

Thank you, and now you all have my permission to get totally blind drunk, except for our blind members who will just have to get drunk.

Two Members of the "It's My Party...Party" celebrating their non-election in the 2007 Australian Federal Election.

An Electoral Appeal To The Voters in the Seat of Minogue

2007-11-22T23:00:00.000+11:00

(My response to the inept behaviour of the local Liberal candidate in the seat of Lindsay, as reported by the Sydney Morning Herald)

Dear Constituent
This Saturday you have the opportunity to cast your vote in the Australian Federal election, which will in turn decide how this country will be governed for the next three years. Issues relating to the economy, education, health, social justice, crime, nudism, defence, the environment, frog massaging and foreign affairs are at the cross-roads. You the voter have the chance to democratically choose how you want Australia to progress as we lean over the window ledge looking into the chasm that is the future. Hence this letter and my appeal that you cast your ballot in favour of the Australian Labor Party candidate for the seat of Minogue, Mr Geoff Hookworm.

Now as a practicing Christian, and a professional wrestler I can testify personally that Mr Hookworm is at one with the most decent tenets of our society. I have seen for myself his intense interest in the bicycle seats of teenage schoolgirls, and I'm sure you too will be struck by his sincerity in his belief in the commonly held belief that Rugby League is 'the greatest game of all'. A true son of the ALP, Geoff has often voiced his disgust at the current industrial relations system in Australia by defecating loudly on the bonnets of those limousines driven by board members of ASX100 companies. Following official ALP policy has seen Geoff strap on a leather corset and crotchless underpants and effectively sell his body to raise funds for the fight against the neo-fascist Liberal Party. And when it comes to supporting Islamic Australians, Mr Hookworm has fought to get federal and state subsidies for the purchasing of Semtex explosives by any registered Muslim youth organisation.

Geoff's attitude on abortion is well-known in the seat of Minogue, and I'm sure many of you will recall how he argued on the top-rating TV current affairs show "Oops, Watch My Melanoma" that in the case of the any people who drink Fosters Lager or support the Eastern Suburbs Rugby League team that abortion be made retrospectively available for fetuses aged 40 years or less. And need I remind you dear voter that as a committed family man Geoff has been convicted only three times on charges of bigamy and never had a charge of bestiality proven by the RSPCA in court or at the Royal Easter Show miniature poodle grand championship.

Mr Hookworm is 100% committed to reducing crime in the urban centres of the Minogue electorate by actively pursuing the decriminalisation of all acts such as rape, murder, arson, burglary, graft, paedophilia, talking on your mobile phone at the movies, treason, rubbing women's feet with your genitals and blasphemy. Your ALP candidate has sworn to personally execute anyone who calls Jesus 'a mythical figure who has homoerotic tendencies' and yet has agreed to conduct the marriage ceremonies of any gay or lesbian couples who live in the electorate of Minogue if he enters parliament after Saturday. Finally, in living up to the standards of Australian Labor Party greats like Curtin, Chifley, Whitlam, Hawke, Keating and Wally Lewis, Geoff Hookworm has guaranteed on his first day as the newly elected MP for the seat of Minogue he will personally give each and every constituent of his electorate 30 minutes of intensely passionate sexual intercourse, or cooking lessons, dependant upon your preference.

In summary, I implore you to make sure this Saturday Geoff is No.1 on your ballot sheet and at stumps on election day you can look yourself in the toilet mirror, ignore the streaks caused by your teenage children bursting their pimples in front of the said mirror, and repeat to yourself "Thank God for Geoff Hookworm!"

Yours Sincerely
Phillip Windsor
Buckingham Palace
London SW1

The McKnuckles Video Game Explosion

2007-11-20T19:46:00.000+11:00

Here follows my take on the world of computer game reviews...

I've been a dedicated follower of the games produced by McKnuckles FOQ ever since their first RPG designed for the now sadly defunct Sago Ecclesiastics home entertainment system, 'Pigeon Buggerer' was released way back in 1989. That amazingly detailed 16 bit title sold millions globally, spawning 'Mrs Pigeon Buggerer', 'Pigeon Buggerer II' and of course the cheap North Korean copy 'Kim Jong Pigeon Buggerer'. It didn't take long after this success for the Clusterfuq, Arkansas design offices of McKnuckles FOQ to expand from the two original code masters (teenagers Desmond Shingle and Elliot Rappe) to a development, animation, design and catering crew of over six employees. Now, the team at McKnuckles have blown away all the opposition at the recent Bucharest Gamers Exhibition with their new releases for the next generation Datsoon 180B game system, all due to go on sale in Australia immediately before Christmas.

Thanks to the good offices of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade in Canberra, plus the liaison skills of McKnuckles' new CEO Terence Waterbed, I was party to a sneak preview of their amazing future products.First cab of the rank, and thrust with almost heterosexual lust into the disk drive of my very own 180B was the combat simulation 'Canuck Peace Keeper'. The player is instantly immersed from the get go once the game loads up into a multi-leveled, 1060dpi world of trying to stops age old conflicts as a Canadian soldier. I didn't get the chance to try the much-hyped 'Peloponnesian War' scenario as the developers back at McKnuckles haven't been able to synch the voices for their Quebecoise avatars, correlating them to the game's ancient Greeks. On the other hand the tutorial level where my character took on the arduous task of bringing peace between the Israelis and Celine Dion looked and played magnificently. Chief software developer Shingle and his self-appointed wunderkind apprentice Simone de Bovary have done a spectacular job of modeling in real flesh tones Ms Dion's skin as it receives several head and chest wounds from the IDF's standard model Galil assault rifle. All the while as the steel-capped rounds were fired from the game's Golan Heights simulation I could move my 'Canuck Peace Keeper' into positions even a gynecologist would be impressed by. I can see this game being a huge seller when it comes time for Santa to get his wish list this December.

Another McKnuckles game that I still can't wipe from the metaphorical sole of my memory's shoe is 'Hey Ho'. 'Hey Ho' falls somewhere between the simulations popular in recent years such as 'The Seams: Making Bacon' and 'The Seams: Projectile Vomiting', with a dash of Thomas Hardy's nineteenth century novel 'Jude the Obscure' thrown in. Over a few limpid tropical cocktails in nighttime Bucharest I grilled the creator of 'Hey Ho' what he was aiming for. Finally, after the last stream hit the bowl and the lid was put down, the mercurial Fitzwilliam Darcy revealed more about the game, instead of exposing more of his sloppy micturition processes. Darcy told me in strictest confidence that the aim of this first person procuring game was to drive through the computer-rendered streets of several regional cities across Europe and North America, attempting to secure manual relief, full service and even Greek Love from video game harlots. Back at the McKnuckles stand during the trade sessions Darcy let me play a few minutes on-screen as 'Hey Ho' hero 'Rude Revvin Kevin', driving a Hunter Hillman through the red light district of Sacramento. I couldn't get over how easy it was to manipulate the motion-sensor control and get my character to successfully beg for a $30 hand job from the level boss Latina Lois. Somehow I think it'll take a minor miracle (or at least 300 milliliters of water soluble lubricant) for any wife, girl friend, sister or social worker to prize 'Hey Ho' out of their male partner's video game system this year. I am sure this'll be a stocking-filler par excellence.

When Waterbed and Shingle grabbed me on Day Three of the Bucharest Gamers Exhibition, threw me into the back of their Mercedes station wagon bound and gagged, and drove me out to a tannery, I had little idea that what lay in front of me, was the most stimulating video game for sports nuts since Pneumatic Arts released 'Amsterdam 1928' for the Puntended N69. I'm talking now about McKnuckles' incredible 'Bocce League 2006'. Fully endorsed by Basque Bocce legend Juan Antonio Sangria, 'Bocce League 2006' left me breathless below the belt as I played this remarkable game. With over 25,000 registered Bocce League professionals fully integrated into the game (with perfect statistics), ranging over every continent where Bocce is like a cult, providing a roster that allows you to play this game more realistically than any pale lawn bowls or petanque copy, you simply can't stop loving this product. McKnuckles' FOQ have easily restored my faith in the home entertainment console's ability to reduce physically active sports to thumb and bum numbing hours of button bashing beauty. My only complaint was the pixilated jack was too hard to see on a widescreen LCD television; may I suggest future buyers of 'Bocce League 2006' invest in something like a Plasma HD TV with satellite broadband connectivity.

Before I stumbled onto my Aeroflot Ilyushin airliner for the 28-hour flight back to Sydney, I was given the opportunity to play one more McKnuckles' game, this time for the hand-held Datsoon Cedric game system. Built for the less-demanding 64-bit specifications of the Cedric, 'Brothers Karamazov: Armed and Drunk' brings to the small screen gamer's world an accurate, if challenging Russian novel replete with themes dealing with faith, patricide, honour and of course 3 mini-Tetris style elements where you have to put together the falling brothers. I got stuck several times when Dimitri and Alexei drifted too quickly, descending at right angles onto Ivan Karamazov. Yet this only spurred me on to better results whilst playing. I was puzzled by the ability of my game character Father Zosima to hold a Sam-7 man-portable missile on level 17 during the game, but the disk's developer Randy Nuggets explained to me that he felt that teenagers of today needed additional firepower in their computer games when approaching Dostoevsky. Far be it from me to question Nuggets, as he has been the brain behind some of the most recent success in the video-game/novelization genre (I'm sure we all recall how good 'Heart of Darkness: Conrad's Armoured Fist' was).

So, when I look back at what McKnuckles FOQ have in store for us, the dedicated video game lover, or for that matter the gurgling, drooling neophyte who hasn't even picked up a turbo-boosted Sago Meister System controller and thinks that Lara Croft is in fact the Chief Minister of the Australian Capital Territory, I can only sit down with tented trousers. I urge anyone with a love for video games to start saving their dollars now, because if you don't purchase at least one of these games I've reviewed it's likely you'll contract a very nasty dermatological condition.

(Editor's Note: The reviewer has no financial, familial or personal relationship with any staff or owners of McKnuckles FOQ or their subsidiaries McKnuckles Fine Dining of Dubbo and McKnuckles Love Lotion Emporium. He did however once share a spinach and feta-filled pita bread sandwich with the man who did the taxes for McKnuckles' CEO Terence Waterbed)

Dirty Samuel Taylor Coleridge; Or Another Shooting Tragedy

2007-11-19T22:24:00.000+11:00

In shocking news that is still unfolding as I write this report, the 47 living members of the Rutherglen Shooting & Wild Pig Eradication Club are just now coming to terms with the tragic events that happened today, all because of one crazed university student and an unlicensed copy of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner".

According to the Rutherglen police station's chief constable Inspector Rex Herring, at about 9.47am this morning as the club members were preparing to take out a notoriously vicious razorback that has been given the nickname of Keith the Mad Bastrad Pig, a Ph.D student from the University of Melbourne, Arthur Engelbert Humperdinck entered the asembly hall of the clubhouse and randomly started reciting verse without scrutiny for age, gender or ability to understand couplets.

The first victim of this barbaric act of mass poetry reciting was octagenarian Bill Semolina and his great nephew Wilbert. The undoubtedly mentally disturbed student confronted Bill and Wilbert as they were stripping and cleaning a M60 machine gun, and were brought down in a hail of rhyming stanzas. Next to suffer at the hands of Humperdink was local footy legend and Leopard tank owner Leonard 'Bones' McCoy. in an act of unselfish heroism McCoy threw himself onto the assailant and managed to tear out at least three entire stanzas of 'Kubla Khan'. Unfortunately Humperdink had brought extra romantic poetry and as he and McCoy wrestled on the floor the brave shooter was felled by a recitation of Keat's "Ozymandis".

By this time two female members of the Rutherglen Shooting & Wild Pig Eradication Club had locked themselves in the arms depot buried beneath the club house and had made contact with the police. Under the command of Inspector Herring crack members of the Victorian Post-Modernist Assault Squad were choppered in from their Parkville barracks, and at 11.13am thrown a cordon around the site fo the unfolding massacre.

Unfortunately, unbeknown to the Squad the perpetrator of this literary bloodletting had claimed another 6 victims. Mrs Enid Bowels, Shooting Club Patron and mother to Rutherglen media identity Eric 'Two Eyes' Bowels (famed for his cattle saleyard reports on radio station 3RS) was lying face down, her body blocking the escape of 2 members of the Marsupial family, Skippy (Aged 7) and Warwick (Aged 41). Ex-Olympic small bore rifle silver medallist Tom Gangrene was seen to fall under a volley of Wordsworth directly aimed by Humperdink at Gangrene's head. And the Rutherglen Shooting & Wild Pig Eradication Club's recently acquired exchange shooter, Colonel Kim Il Songsungblu of the North Korean Army had been brought to an untimely end thanks to Humperdink indiscrimately using a complete magazine of Lord Byron's "Childe Harold" on his victim.

At 12.15pm the order was given by the Victorian Minister for the Arts and the Federal Minister for Education that the club house was to be stormed by the elite Post-Modernist Assault Squad. Whilst it was too late to save those who had already suffered at the hands of the maniac Humperdink, the cool actions and unswerving loyalty to blank verse meant that over 40 survivors were found and rescued within 10 minutes. Humperdink, aware that he was rapidly running out of poetry from the 19th Century climbed onto the roof with the last page of his copy of William Blake's "Songs of Innocence", and proceeded to commit self-recitation. Although rushed by ambulance to the English department of LaTrobe University Wodonga Campus, he was pronounced illiterate on arrival.

As the scene of the carnage at the Rutherglen Shooting & Wild Pig Eradication Club house was placed under forensic investigation, community leaders, academics, politicians, media commentators and wandering bards are already sifting through the evidence and the ramifications of what has happened to the poor unfortunate souls brought down by Arthur Engelbert Humperdink. Local town mayor Councillor Theodore Endocrine has already begun lobbying for the banning of Victorian poetry without proper police examination of the user. Noted literary figure F.R. Leavusalone claimed that if some of the shooters had been issued with their own copies of T.S. Eliot's 'The Wasteland' Humperdink could have been stopped much earlier. And Victorian Premier Neville Shonk has promised a full Royal Commission into the effects of too much iambic pentatmeters in the lecture theatre.

A public service of rememberance along non-denominational lines will be lead by Bishop Theo Stigmata, Rabbi Ezra Ben-Dover and Mullah Yussef Khan-Opener at the Rutherglen Civic Centre next Wednesday. Donations for the charity set up to help the survivors can be given at Remington Rifle Shops, Puckapunyal Armoured Warfare Centre and any branch of the Commonwealth Bank.

Undiscovered Masterpieces from the Literary Greats

2007-11-16T16:03:00.000+11:00

After half a lifetime in the book industry I've been privy to some landmark moments in modern fiction. For example, I remember quite fondly selling a copy of 'The Satanic Verses' to two customers who may well have been carrying a Fatwah alongside their Co-op membership cards when they prersented the book for puchase. Then there was the great 'Let's pull off the cling wrap around "American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis' incident. But none of these or any other can match the treasures I came upon whilst sorting through a box of remainders I bought from a drive-in Dymocks based in Fyshwyck just before I left the repping game. And let's just say the following books have turned many a bibliophile's head...

Turpentine & Tedium by Jane Austen

This early novel from Jane's days at Bath follows the career of Fanny Hare and her ill-matched love with penurious painter Bertram Snoadley Brush. Set firstly in the village of Nethergarments, and then progressing to the stately mansion 'Dunthrottling' of Lord Delpus, 'Turpentine...' is a compelling read. Unpublished until released in a folio edition by the Brown Paper Bag University Press of Baden-Baden-Baden-Baden, 'Turpentine and Tedium' is only now being recognised by Austenophiles as her greatest piece of writing not made into a movie with crinoline dresses.

The Sisters Getyergearoff by Leo Tostoy

Tolstoy at times felt he stood in the shadow of the great Dostoevesky, and at other times felt he squatted in the shadow of the great Dostoevesky. 'The Sisters Getyergearoff' is Tolstoy's attempting to get on a chair and stand behind and to the left of Dostoevesky's shadow and make rabbit ear signals with his fingers. A cyrillic 'buddy story', Tolstoy's novel follows the lives and careers of twin Russian sisters Ivana and Ektarina. The twins are separated at birth by the mad woodsman and part-time gynaecologist Fyodor the Belarussian, with Ivana sent to the aristocratic home of Count Getyergearoff, whilst Ektarina is adopted by the lonely serf Igor Platytude. Whilst Ivana moves in the brightest and richest social circles of St Petersburg immediately after the invasion of Russia by Napoleon, Ektarina (whilst hauling artillery pieces to the battlefield of Borodino) falls in love with the dashing cavalry officer and step-brother of Ivana, Captain Smirnov Getyergearoff. Smirnov returns Ektarina's passion but is repelled by what he feels is an incestuous infatuation for his real step-sister Ivana, and charges a whole regiment of Polish lancers on the ramparts of Moscow in a heroic effort to expunge his reputation and soul. Shot over 47 times, his torn and sundered body is rescued still-living by the mysterious Monk of Minsk, who turns out to be Ken Voroshilov, a neighbour of Fyodor. Ken is able to reveal to Smirnov that neither Ivana nor Ektarina are in fact his sisters by blood, and with his dying gasp the young Getyergearoff scion swears his love to Ektarina. Unfortunately Ivana, in a jealous rage (having fallen in love with Ken Voroshilov at a Moscow canasta tournament) exiles Ektarina to the Siberian peat mines, and then theatrically throws her own weighted body under the 9.52 pm Novgorod-Kiev express in a futile attempt to drown herself.

1983 by George Orwell

A much unanticipated prequel to '1984', '1983' follows the decline and fall of Neville Smith in the totalitarian world of Big Grandmother. A clerk in the Ministry of Knotted String, Neville has to continually develop new knots to replace more complicated ones that are associated with Big Grandmother's war with Eurasia. Taken to Room 102, Neville faces his greatest rope-bound terror and recants his love for Julianna, a twine and hemp activist in the Big Grandmother Knitting League.

The Trouser Snake by DH Lawrence

Paul Nottingham is a miner's son in the Durham village of Stoat-on-Crack, where his mother Angela Bratwurst (daughter of a randy Hungarian duke) is trying to instill a love of art, culture and nude photography in Paul's life. Angela's husband Desmond, a vicious man who strangles blancmanges in his spare time demands that Paul spends less time playing with doilies and painting still-lifes of cheeses and gets down the shaft to dig coal, lignite and sputum. Paul runs away to the Sheffield Institute of Painted Groins and Writing where he falls in love with Lady Constance Chatterbox. Becoming her gardener, and helping her war-wounded husband Enoch on and off his chamberpot pays the bills until Angela visits the fecund couple and finds them wrapped up under a continental dooner comparing liver spots in the nude. Angela brings sad tidings; Desmond was killed in a custard avalanche, and the Nottingham's are now destitute. So Paul gives up his hopes of becoming a painter and pork massager, deserts the now pregnant Constance and returns with his mother to Hungary.

Chartered Accountants of Dune by Frank Herbert

The sci-fi sage of the Atreides family continues in Herbert's last and until now unpublished novel set on the desert world of Dune. Lord Rastus Atreides, thirteenth cousin thrice removed from Paul Muadib Atreides is brought in by the Reverend Mothers of Invention and the Spice & Fruitloaf Guild to see how much of the prized mind-bending substance melange is being smuggled off world in turbans adorning tourists. The plot thickens as the Grand Emperor Padishah and Norbert Haakonen collude to open up a chain of melange and fried chicken outlets.

The Hardest Golf Course In The World

2007-11-15T16:56:00.000+11:00

For those of you who thought that the man they call Tiger, Tiger Woods...or the Big Easy or even the ghost of Billy Dunk had a hard battle with Augusta this last weekend, I've already signed off on what I expect will be the biggest golfing challenge since the Scots invented the golf buggy with whiskey bottle holders. My co-developers, Jack Nicklaus, Kim Il-Jung, Sepp Blatter, German chancellor Angela Merkel and dead leftist guerilla Che Guevara have agreed that 'Royal Pain in the Arse at Dimboola' will be opened for both the golfing professional and the manic-depressive mashie niblick fondler by Yom Kippur 2009.

Whilst I have no images of the 'RPAID' to hand (our graphic designer broke his last 2B Green Derwent pencil), I can give you a hole by hole tour of the front 9 in words which will paint a thousand broken putters...

1st Hole: The Torquemada

The fairway of this Par 3 170 metres dog-leg right appears simple and undulating when approached from the tee originally designed by Buckminster Fuller but now reshaped by Merle Haggard. Instead, if you drop too short of the 'Afrika Korp' bunker about 90 minutes down range you may find yourself put on the rack by a member of the Spanish Inquisition. My suggestion; play a lofted 4 iron with left to ride fade and then confess your heresy.

2nd Hole: Jenna's Delight

Romantic unclad movie actress Jenna Jameson was very happy to let me use a gynaecologically correct reproduction of her when I designed the second hole at the 'Royal Pain...'. A sloping 605 metre Par 4, this hole will encourage the big hitters and the bigger clubbed. Watch out for Lake Ron Jeremy as you come across the gravel pan at 207 metres; this wet spot is a definite ball grabber.

3rd Hole: Semtex Corner

As we pass the undulating hillock that runs across the fairway of the 3rd hole you'll notice that at 300 metres exactly the ground has been littered with anti-personnel mines left over from the Falklands War. It's a pitch and wedge from here to the green, but too big a divot could see you on the 6th tee, (plus the 9th green, the club house roof and in a truck marked 'Prime Offal').

4th Hole: Cannae See Ye Wully

Inspired by such great Scotsmen as Robert the Bruce, William Wallace, Robert Burns and the guy with cross-eyes who used to sing for 'Simple Minds', 'Cannae..' is a demanding hole requiring respect, kelp, single malt whiskey, no underpants and a short kilt. 200 metres and Par 5, don't be surprised to see groundsman Leonard Cohen shuffling along the fairway selling 2nd hand haggis's.

5th Hole: An Inconvenient Par 3

You'll be greeted at the tee (inspired by Corbusier's Voisin Plan for the left bank of Paris, 1917) by your hole-associated caddy Al Gore, who then berate you for whatever club you use for being ecologically unsound and it's a known fact Titleist contributes over 70% of all greenhouse gases in the world today. My suggestion...use your 6 iron to dent the forehead of Mr Gore and then aim to the right of the Exxon Valdez Bunker.

6th Hole: Charley Don't Golf

Take your pitching wedge, your Srixon golf shoes and your carbon fibre tees back to the best scenbe to have come from a Vietnam War film, 'Apocalypse Now'. As you wind up for your tee shot don't be surprised to hear 'Ride of The Valkyries' echoing from a whole regiment of helicopter gunships. Drift out to the right hand long grass and watch out for VC insurgents dropping grenades in your cart. Take out both the AK47 wielding course pros at the 350 metre mark and your green is open to both a simple drop pitch or 155mm artillery.

7th Hole: The Ennui Weltschmerz Special

It may appear on your card as a 'compelling straight fairway of 417 metres and 4 strokes', but don't let this trick you. As soon as your divot lands on the silken buffalo fairway at the 175 metre peg you'll be overcome with a general emotional malaise not seen since Greg Norman got dudded by Nick Faldo. If not carrying a chipper be sure to at least have a few cartons of Zoloft in your back pocket.

8th Hole: Billy, Don't Be A Hero...Drop Short and Fade

Not many holes in the Australiasian professional golf circuit can claim a hole sponsored by and also used as the domicile for a legendary one hit wonder band from the 1970s. The 8th at the Royal Pain is lucky to have Paper Lace follow you from tee to cup as you try and tame this arduous Par 3 90 metres cliff-face hole. And by the way, I reject the NZPGA's copyright injunction against the 8th just because at Taranaki they've secured Charlene for their 'I've Never Been To Me' 17th.

9th Hole: The Percy Byssche of a Hole

Ending the outward 9 is a pretty 712 metres Par 6 creek-lined and jasmine-spotted 1-in-4 gradient dog-leg right which is best tackled by anyone who knows the prime works of Shelley, Keats or Byron. Wordwsworth, Coleridge and Blake won't help you here, but a long drifting drive with a graphite and plasticine 1 Wood should see you in sight of either the green or some daffodils.

I'll come back to you with the details of the back 9 once I get clearance from the UN Security Council....

Happy golfing!

Jenna's Delight

Your Horoscope With Andrew The Myopic Psychi

2007-11-14T22:57:00.000+11:00

Thanks to the transcendental influences upon my id and the reflexive paranormal occlusion on my cerebellum inculcated from imbibing certain spirits, I can safely say I now hold a unique, 100% accurate and utterly believable ability to provide horoscopical prognostications free of charge. So, without further ado, here is my first of what may be many (depending upon legal restrictions) horoscope columns.

Aries: For the next week if you are born under the sign of Aries you could face temptations involving ferrets, your own underwear and licorice all-sorts. Avoid lubricious contact with these small mammals but don't be scared of sharing bodily fluids with Benedictine monks. Your lucky airplane is the Lockheed Constellation

Taurus: People find Taurean's repugnant. yes they do. You probably having weeping sores on your bottom, an inability to correctly pronounce words with more than 1 syllable, and when you cook dinner for your friends you usually burn the chips. My suggestion; bury yourself in dung and call yourself a taxidermist. Your lucky element is argon.

Gemini: Next month you and your pets will be acclaimed by the citizens of Botswana as the reincarnated spirit of Colonel Sanders. SAM Missiles will be delivered to your door without any cost and you will find yourself waking up on next Tuesday morning with a naked lady and a bowl of cheese puffs beside you in your bed. Your lucky hormone is Thryroxine.

Cancer: Your passionate nature and desire to reach the top of the Slavic pop charts will mean by next Wednesday you'll be romantically linked with Russian President Vladimir Putin. Don't step under any ladders when walking on water as this could lead to head injuries and/or trench foot. Your lucky arachnid is the funnel web spider.

Leo: It's most probable that by the end of next weekend every person in the world with the zodiac sign of Leo will be either pregnant or voting Social Democrat at the German federal election. Land mines are not conducive to helping Leo's with their social life. Your unlucky post-impressionist is Paul Gaugain.

Virgo: Paranoia or scabies will be your reward this week dear Virgo, thanks to your almost pathological desire to fondle buckets in hardware stores. Don't back chat anyone carrying an AK47 as Virgos have been known to be susceptible to gun shot wounds when in an argument. Your lucky geological era is Cretaceous.

Scorpio: Belgians find Scorpios incredibly arousing, so don't be frightened if you are accosted by a man from Brussels frotting against you whilst on the 7.57 am train from Dar es Salaam to Rooty Hill. Your lucky organ is the pituitary gland.

Sagittarius: Sagittarians have one of only three career paths outlined for them horoscopically. Gynaecology, Jesuit priest or lady ten pin bowler. If you walk on the left hand side of the street next Thursday morning don't be surprised if you are mugged by a man wearing a lead-lined G-string and carrying a banjo with intent to maim. Your ambivalent cheese is Gouda.

Capricorn: Romance, wealth, herpes and soft crust bread will all be on your plate this week, and you have your Aunty Norma to thank for this bounty. Don't attempt to study Platonic philosophy this week as I predict you will suffer an embolism if you do. Instead kneel down and look behind yourself at a copy of any treatise by Leibniz or Kant instead. Your unlucky fish is halibut.

Aquarius: Head injuries or a lotto win are in your stars this week Aquarian, and if you butt your noggin against the newsagent selling you your lotto ticket in the first place you can get two psychic results for the price of one. Don't be offended if lots of property developers from Shanghai China lodge a development application with your local council for your reproductive organs. Your lucky historian is Joachim Fest.

Pisces: Horoscopically talking being a Pisces is like being God, Michael Jackson, Buzz from 'Toy Story' and Charles Dickens rolled into one. You don't need to read such mindless pablum such as this horoscope, but instead you should be staging a coup d'etat against your closest Oligarchic regime. Your lucky American president is Millard Fillmore.

Your Local "It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party" Candidates

2007-11-14T22:53:00.000+11:00

Some time ago you may recall that I have launched a new political party to bring about the revolutionary change required on the Australian federal body politic, plus to get me into Canberra with access to VIP jets, female research assistants and a fat super pay-out when I retire. Thanks to the massive support provided by you, the voting public as well as an anonymous donation of over $3.77 from a certain sqaure eyed software developer of Seattle, I'm proud to announce that the 'It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party' will stand candidates in every lower seat at the upcoming Australian Federal Election.

So that you, the enfranchised taxpayer can lodge your vote the way you have to so as to procure Australia a new golden era with nuclear weapons, a chicken in every driveway and no more 'Big Brother' on TV, I'd like to introduce you to some of our candidates. At this time I can't provide direct contact details for each of these fine citizens and pollies with a heart, a lung and three testicles, but believe me when I say that if you happen to see them in the streets of your electorate they will welcome your questions, your handshake and/or some frottage.

Mr Frank Alvaeoli (Candidate for the seat of Milat)
Frank has experience as a pole dancer and ferret sexer, and has been employed by the Australian farmer's federation to establish an eradication program for Frisian Beavers. The seat of Milat requires a swing of 75% to go to Mr Alvaeoli, and he has promised me that 'not only can I get that swing I will also deliver the entire Lithuanian vote thanks to my 3 years spent in Vilnius as a flasher.

Corporal Friedrich Von Off-Doze of Ulm and Rooty Hill (Candidate for the seat of Boon)
Von Off-Doze emigrated from Germany in 1972 and has since sworn an oath to his new Fatherland, upholding it with his own blood, sweat and some borrowed bodily fluids from his neighbour. The 'It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party' has appointed Friedrich (or Bum-fluff to his friends and chiropodist) the party's shadow minister for Lint and Foreign Affairs. Von Off-Doze has promised to bring to the voters of Boon his experience in PMS, leaping over small mammals and a slice of Gouda delivered to every constituent on Good Friday.

Terence Tint- D'Arbey (Candidate for the seat of Molly Meldrum)
Terence (or to use his maiden name, Kimberley-Anne Thighs) was a paratrooper in the 3rd battalion Royal Australian regiment until a nasty incident with a potato peeler and a Taliban mullah in Belgium. Terence has already declared his opposition to abortion, the pill, sexual promiscuity, the bikini, Playboy magazines and spaghetti in a can. As self-appointed party moral guardian terence believes that Australian men have lost their moral compass, whilst women have lost their immoral sextant. The Melbourne based seat of Molly meldrum is currently represented by a Liberal Party MP, who last month was picked up by police for stuffing gherkins down his underpants. hence our great hopes for Terence to win this seat back for the true sons of Anzac in the It's My Party & I'll Cry If I want To Party.

Brett-Lee Speared (Candidate for the seat of Skippy the Bush Kangaroo)
In a major coup for my people's power movement, and perhaps for my bowel movement as well, I'm proud to announce that Brett-Lee Speared (and no, not that American singer with a slightly similar name) has accepted our arty's nomination for the NSW rural seat of Skippy the Bush Kangaroo. Brett-Lee has established her credentials in country politics thanks to her brave stand advocating the bringing back mulesing for every vegetarian over the age of 12. Brett-Lee has also been willing to show off parts of her anatomy that don't start with the letters V or Q for our annual It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party calendar. Famous in the regional centre of Wagga Wagga for her Darryl Braithwaite impersonations, we expect great things from Brett-Lee Speared, or failing that, a saliva swab.

Medical Recommendations From The Royal McDonald Fatuous Institute

2007-11-13T19:47:00.000+11:00

Having studied for almost 40 years under the tutelage of some of the all-time greats of medical science (Dr Leonard 'Bones' McCoy, Dr Julian Bashir, Dr Benjamin Franklin Pierce, Dr Greg House, Dr Quincy and Dr Johnny Fever), I was alarmed to read today that Belgian medical researchers have identified indoor swimming pools as a potential health threat to infants.

This has prompted me to discuss with my elite team of medical researchers to close poste haste the important clinical studies we have been undertaking at the RMFI into other crucial health problems. Before the Royal McDonald Fatuous Institute submits our findings to The Lancet, The Harvard Medical Review and FHM Magazine I'd like to share some of our initial recommendations.

A Generational Study on Cranial/Hammer Interface
The RMFI can categorically state that after watching 4 generations of the Partridge Family of Drouin, Victoria we would recommend that daily beatings to the back of the head with a ball pein hammer are not conducive to memory retention. When this study was first launched Mr Rueben Kincaid (patriarch and great grandfather of the Kincaid family) remarked upon the "dull, throbbing pain" when hit by the aforementioned hammer. After 16 months and the introduction of the hammer therapy to Rueben's daughter Margret, his grandson Kenneth and his great-grand-nephew Eli none of the Kincaid's can remember who won the Melbourne Cup in 1975, the last Democratic US Presidential candidate with 'G' in his surname, or the lyrics to the song "Love To Love You Baby" by Donna Summer.

Inhaling Projectiles and the Gag Reflex
My learned colleagues, Dr Joseph Smyth-Goebbels and Dr Doctor-Can't-You-Hear-Me-Calling-Calling are in the final lap of a race against time to find a cure for the involuntary gag reflex when subject patients swallow small arm munitions, artillery shells and guided missiles. Starting in 1973 with their breakthrough trials for a mouth guard against .50 cal machine gun bullets, our enlightened staff have almost completed an impervious shield of titanium/carbon fibre that when fitted on the epiglottis will almost certainly prevent naval bombardments from going down the wrong way. So far both the US Marine Corps and the Pizza Hut chain of family restaurants have shown marginal interest in our findings.

Mustard Gas as a Bunion Remover
Foot diseases and podiatry has been a major strand of the RMFI's medical research work ever since the patron of the Institute, Lord Raglan of Balaclave returned from the Crimean War with tinea and sprung ankles. Our findings on the wearing of moccasins and the correlated incidence of schizophrenia were the talk of the International Shoe Retailer's 1987 Global Conference held in Marrakesh, Morocco, so when I first asked for funding from the Australian Medical Association and also from Florsheim Shoe Manufacturers there was plenty of money to spread around. My findings are inconclusive at this time as I have discovered that within a controlled environment Mustard Gas is more efficient for acne or suppurating boils. I've held some interdisciplinary talks with the Japanese Aum sect and its medicos re Sarin Gas but the discussions have been hampered by the total lack of any English skills on their part, or Japanese on ours.

Internet Porn, Impotence and Lord of The Rings Fetishism
This bold new study in epidemiological health research has already convincingly attributed male sexual inadequacy to the increased levels of exposure to nude photos of Gandalf or Bilbo Baggins on the internet. Our confirmational findings re Aragorn and Viagra-induced Priapism is still to be finalised, but as soon as our internet account is re-established after somewhat embarrassing images were found on the Institutes's computer hard drive by the NSW Police I am sure my team of medical experts will resolve this challenge for all Tolkein reading geeks.

If you wish to help the Royal McDonald Fatuous Institute in its battle against obscure diseases, and Andrew's pursuit of retiring with heaps of cash and naked beautiful women all between the ages of 18-21 bringing him beer and pizza then please provide your credit card details to your local Saab dealer. And ask for Theo.

The It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party Political Broadcast

2007-11-13T19:40:00.000+11:00

Men and women of Australia, her territories, foreign based military forces around the globe and the old colonies we will regain once I am elected and we begin our offensive in both the Pacific and on the European continent, thank you for considering the It's My Party & I'll Cry If I want To Party for your vote in the upcoming Federal election. Thanks to the new media provisions under the Australian Electoral Commission's act, as well as the new media forum supplied by Google I am pleased to follow up last week's launch of our election campaign with more policy statements. I am sure once you have spent some of your valuable time cogitating over these statements you'll understand why our slogan 'Tell The Other Parties To Get Rooted...I'm Voting For The Party Not Ashamed To Bomb New Zealand' is already getting huge swings for local candidates in the electorates of Boon, Healy, McDermott and Dodemaide.

The Republic

I'm fed up with the whingeing and whining of all those deviants who think that just because we don't have some tin pot president we are less Australian, less independent and less able to tell the Windsors that Prince Harry is a prat who probably is the sprog of some rugby player and not Charles after all. I'm also sick and tired of monarchists defending the status quo, simply because they drive Range Rovers, drink Teley's tea and eat English muffins. My answer is to form a new monarchy down under, but finding any female relatives of the much-deceased Kings of Scotland and then marrying her off to Shane Warne. The progeny of this union will become either Emperor or Supreme Digger of the Royal Court of St George & Illawarra, and hence do away with both the much-lambasted Pommy monarchy we are saddled with, whilst giving the duds who want Paul Keating or Dick Smith made president short shrift. Combined with a new aristocracy and honours system (e.g. The Right Royal Order Of Decent Bastards), I can happily guarantee any self-flagellation over our political and cultural independence will be given the arse pronto!

Tax

The tax regime in Australia is simply too confusing and too onerous for the majority of us, and I promise that the It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party will do away with the savagely unfair and muddle system currently in place. Simply put, anyone who has appeared on the Einstein Factor, can recall 10 members of the Electric Light Orchestra, has at least one Playstation and can recite Humpty Dumpty in Latin gets to be tax exempt. The highest tax bracket (93%) will be levied on those people who play their MP3 players on the train or bus or tram without using ear phones, as well as citizens who have anything to do with Channel 10, Nova FM radio or drive Hyundais or utes. The GST will be replaced by a new excise aimed at stopping fair dinkum Aussies from buying imported crap from countries like China, Japan and the US, and instead developing new industries back home. Finally, anyone who lives in Tamworth and enjoys the Country Music Festival will be taxed at 52.3%.

Sport

Not enough money is being spent on sport in Australia and if elected I promise that for every dollar we spend on health or social services $20 will be spent on sport. If possible, my government will offer to buy out the IOC and take the Olympics back to Australia every 4 years, with the first 'new' games to be held in Dubbo in 2016. No one will be able to enter university without naming at least 8 members of the 1974-75 Australian test cricket team, whilst the UN will be petitioned to ensure that the MCG, Bowral Oval, Armidale Racecourse and Homebush are listed as world heritage sites. The Socceroos will be able to take over as many AFL playing rosters as required to finally close down this ruinous diversion from our true and manifest World Cup destiny, whilst Rugby League players from the period 1947-1989 will be given seats in the senate so long as they played for less than two clubs and can recall a Frank Hyde broadcast.

Food

The Chiko Roll and Passiona will be made mandatory but free as the preferred lunch option for all public school students aged between 5 and 14, so as to inculcate Aussie kids with Aussie food values. Vegemite-swabs will be taken of anyone wishing to claim any financial or political benefit from the Australian government (under my leadership of course), and if a negative result is returned that person or persons will be forced to eat 7 slices of vegemite on toast for a period defined by their local magistrate in agreement with their parish priest. Fast food chains will be abolished unless they can deliver a decent meat pie or pastie, whilst every restaurant will be threatened with imminient closure unless they offer pie floaters on their menu. Finally, anyone trafficking in hamburgers without beetroot and onions, or with special sauce and/or pickles will be shot.
And as for vegans, if they don't consume at least one T-Bone a month their children or parents will be taken and placed into special re-education camps/stockyards. Enough pandering to the nut-cutlet brigade...let's meet the meat challenge now!

In closing...
These policies and promises are rock solid, 100% guaranteed, bona fide and core to the It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To Party's ideology. Ignore the likes of such gooses as Peter Garrett, Warren Truss and the entire Australian Democrats (both their members). I swear that by re-election 2010 Australia will be either a superpower to match the likes of Red China or beige USA, or a smouldering mass of radioactive rubble where even the cats have embarrassing sexual hang-ups.

Launch of a New Australian Political Party

2007-11-12T19:22:00.000+11:00

Men and women of Australia (plus transexuals, eunuchs, non-gender identified humans who are quite happy to be sexually ambiguous and Bronwyn Bishop).

I am pleased to announce that today I have decided to launch my own campaign for the next Australian Federal Election (whenever that pinko femmo vego lezzo John Howard dares to call it), as leader of my own political movement. The It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To Party (also known under the alias of the Black-With-A-Silly-Joke-Printed-On-A-T-Shirts), will be running candidates in every electorate in the lower, upper and if I have my way the newly created just-right-of-centre houses of parliament. I myself, as Federal Leader, party whip, branch stacker extraordinaire, ideologue and the guy who brings the ham sandwiches to our party picnics have made a SOLEMN COMPACT with every Australian who can vote (as well as those who can't but like to sniff ballot papers because it gets them aroused) to do what NEEDS TO BE DONE TO MAKE AUSTRALIA GREAT (or at least better than Malaysia, and if that can't be done very comparable to Nicaragua).

Now I know; you the informed voter or even the uninformed blathering fool want to know what my policies are. What the It's My Party But I'll Cry If I Want To Party stand for. Well, I'm pleased that you have such an enquiring mind (and even more pleased if you have large breasts and just turned 16...and even more pleased again if you are female). And I'm happy to announce new policy initiatives on a regular basis between now and our eventual rise to power. I promise you, the Australian voter, that if you put me and my unnamed brothers and sisters into government, no more will you suffer under the yoke of Liberal or Labor oppression. No more will you wilt with political ennui because you find Peter Costello a skin irritant, or Wayne Swan makes you feel like scratching your pubic area. No indeed; my political destiny is to do for Australia what Pseudo Echo did for Countdown.

It is with a proud paternalistic smile (as well as a post-traumatic weeping sore on my right knee) that I promise to do the following if elected before this year is out into Australia's government.

Health:
I have already promised to fully fund usuing a tax on people who watch 'Lost' a scheme where elderly men and women of Australia will be given the option of a home visit from a university undergraduate of their preferred gender and body size, who will on a monthly basis come to that pensioner and for 1 hour rub the naughty bits of the aforementioned old person. I envisage a day when a student of economics and psychology at Monash University will be knocking on the door of our elderly war heros from Korea, Vietnam and other foreign fields, asking for the resident to 'drop the strides, I've come to provide an intimate massage', and leaving 1 hour later with both a new insight into the challenges of old age and a smiling pensioner who'll possibly mention them in his or her will.

Defence:
The It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To Party has decided after furious internal debate and having a burger with the works for lunch down the local takeaway that Australia needs to go nuclear before next Wednesday. And by God, if elected we can do it! I have already bounced around a few figures with a man who once walked Milton Friedman's dog, and another man who saw a photo of General Colin Powell in The Sydney Morning Herald, and they have advised me that a fleet of 300 B-52 bombers each armed with hydrogen bombs, plus 20 nuclear submarines each carry 20 Polaris missiles can be bought on Ebay for $3,215.24. Hang the expense I say...it's about time those cheeky chappies and gun-toting radical bastards in Vanuatu, Norfolk Island, New Zealand and the Vatican understood that to impugn Australia's dignity with a cheap joke about dingos and babies means a 30 megaton nuclear warhead will be landing square at the feet of Joe Kiwi or Pope Whoever within the blink of an eye.

Education:
My plan to increase literacy and essentially improve the overall intellectual capacity of all Australians, no matter their age, sex or inside leg measurement, is to export for medical experiments anyone who has voted via SMS for a candidate on 'Australian Idol'. By shipping these poor deluded mental midgets off to some place that could benefit from their internal organs (such as America), I predict we will have a win-win situation for all concerned. ANU, UNE, Swinburne Uni and the Ponds Institute have all agreed to take on extra students and I am currently negotiating with a leading American fast food chain (no names, no Golden Arches) to purchase the leftover by-products of our accelerated intellectual aggrandizement scheme.

I will be making more statements about policies and issues relating to my candidature for the Australian election in upcoming weeks. If however you want to ask for either a party membership, wish to submit an idea for political appraisal, or simply want to receive a 15cm x 10cm photo of Malcolm Turnbull's belly button, please leave self addressed stamp on an envelope.

Thank you for your consideration of my candidacy and remember...
"The only good voter is the one who knows that if he votes for me he won't be voting for someone else."

Party Chairman & Uber-Idealist Nick Nolte