Thursday, July 27, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
I like nicknames. I like using them. I like making them up. But there are some golden rules you must abide by if you don't want to ever be laughed out of the stadium.
The Golden Rule: DO NOT EVER make up your own nickname.
It could be the most stupid, daggy, embarrassing, pathetic and sad thing you could ever do. Making up nicknames is your mates' job. Your mates haven't given you a nickname? Go out and get yourself a new bunch of mates. Join a footy club. Do anything but make up your own nickname.
Hot Dogs made up his own nickname. Remember how much of a pathetic site it was to see him on the first night in the Big Brother house introducing himself to everyone? "Hi, I'm Hot Dogs!"
Nobody was listening. Nor should they.
Crispian Mills from 90's Brit Pop also-rans, Kula Shaker gave himself the name, The Flash. See, that's what happens if you call your son Crispian.
If you've been known under a nickname for years and you suddenly want to be known by your real first name. Bad luck.
Only way out of this is again, get another new bunch of mates. This time don't join a footy or cricket club. Try joining your local scrabble club. Old scrabs ladies don't use nicknames.
Do not infiltrate.
If there's something more annoying and pathetic than a bloke who gives himself a nickname is the same bloke who runs around the group using long used nicknames to a bunch of mates he's only known for a few hours. As much as a nickname is earned, the right to use someone else's alias in conversation is earned.
A good rule of thumb is to only call someone by their nickname when you know the story about how they came to earn it.
Learn everybody's real names.
Weddings can be embarrassing when you're trying to complement Dud Root's mum's efforts with the chicken wing and tomato casserole.
Introduce yourself with your own first name.
Not an essential rule. Merely a matter of taste and class.
Hi, I'm Glenn. But I've also answered to Peters, Glenny, Glennis, Gleenis, Stout, GP, Twenty, Nudge, Gwendoline and Dixie.
And a big hello to Jack, Skipper, Macca, Magilla, Cockwallet, Dicko, Methers, Dud Root, Bamen, Rudeboy, Ray, Carny, Freddy, Johnny Livewire and Squidge!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
The Daily Show's on Foxtel! Here's Jon Stewart's frighteningly hilarious take on George Bush's grope on German Chancellor, Angela Merkel.
I've been replaying this spot all afternoon.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
An argument during a game of scrabble led to the man being bashed at least 40 times with a baseball bat and stabbed five times in the back, a court has been told.Thanks to Nina, my Strange Shet Heppens In New Zealand Correspondent, for the tip!
Brendon Tahau, 26, of Rotorua died after 10 violent minutes.
In the High Court at Rotorua a Rotorua pair admitted killing Mr Tahau. James Wharetakahia Hamiora, 22, unemployed, pleaded guilty to Mr Tahau's murder.
His associate Gabriel John Kingi, who turns 19 next week, pleaded guilty to manslaughter.
The court was told Mr Tahau had visited a friend on August 25 last year and they settled in for a night of scrabble.
Hamiora, Kingi and another man turned up at the house.
When Mr Tahau took exception to the way Hamiora was speaking to his friends, Hamiora held up a bullet and put a cigarette against it saying he was going to shoot a hole through the wall.
Mr Tahau told Hamiora not to disrespect his friend's house and the pair argued.
Hamiora got a silver aluminium baseball bat from his car and began bashing Mr Tahau. Kingi joined in, punching Mr Tahau.
Mr Tahau tried to get away, screaming at them "what is the matter? What is your problem?"
At this stage Hamiora stabbed Mr Tahau in the back at least five times while Kingi continued to punch him and hit him with the bat.
Mr Tahau had numerous injuries to his head, body and limbs and died a short time later as a result of a stab wound to his left lung.
You may have read in Saturday's Good Weekend that former leader of The Texas Jewboys, hilarious crime writer and top mate of Wilie Nelson, Kinky Friedman is running as an independent to be the first jewish governor of Texas.
He's doing quite well. According to a Dallas Business Journal poll he's ahead of the nearest candidate by almost 20%.
But I hope he doesn't stop with them gumshoe dick novels because Kinky's such a beautiful writer. Here's a bit I read today during lunch from his 1988 novel, When The Cat's Away.
"Funny the things you think about when your life hangs like a stray gray thread on Ratso's Hadassah Thrift Shop coat. Maybe it continues to cling there and you continue to live. Or maybe some well meaning, neurotic broad puts down her plastic cup of white wine at a SoHo gallery opening and says, 'Just a minute, Ratso, honey, you've got a thread hanging on your coat.' She picks off the thread and you die. The landlord finds a new tenant and raised the rent. The cat goes to the city pound. The girl in the peach-coloured dress calls, hears your voice still on the machine, leaves a message, and wonders why you never got back to her. Serves her right for waiting so damn long to call."I urge my US readers to contribute to Kinky's campaign fund. Australians aren't allowed to contribute but we can buy a Kinky Talking Action Figure or some bumper stickers from his Campaign Store.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Just found this interview he did on Letterman a couple of years ago when Real Gone came out. I missed it when it first screened and have been told about it second hand by insomniac friends eversince.
And here's an interview he did on the funniest man in the world, Fred Willard's old tonight show, In Fernwood Tonight.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
"I love Marco Materazzi. He has Darren Millane's skill and balls, Craig Kelly's niggle and my very own good looks. Actually he does remind me a lot of myself on the football field.Go to Victoria Park, my Collingwood footy site to find out what happened next. I've also put a video of Marco Materazzi's greatest hits on there to watch.
Opposition crowds loved me. They would make interesting observations about my long hair while I would answer by taking out their lairish players, not for a pleasant night of pasta and an Italian short film, but by a late bump or a tad stronger than needed tackle.
My first 'hit' was served in the final round of the under 12's Sydney football season. We, Forest Lions, were up against glamour and money club, St Ives. Can't quite remember his name but I think he was of South American origin (We'll call him Pedro), was cutting us up through the centre. At half time the coach took me aside."
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
"An Italian lip-reader last night claimed to have deciphered the words Marco Materazzi said to Zinédine Zidane that provoked the French captain into butting him in the chest during Sunday's World Cup final, the great midfielder's final act before a red card ended his career in top-level football.From The Guardian's faultless World Cup coverage.
According to the BBC, Materazzi said, 'I wish an ugly death to you and all your family,' and then told Zidane to 'go fuck yourself'."
Others are claiming the brilliantly tattooed Azzuri star told Zidane he was a "dirty terrorist" but Materazzi claims:
"It is absolutely not true, I did not call him a terrorist. I'm ignorant. I don't even know what the word means."Another theory from The Independent..
It was a confrontation that began with Materazzi grabbing Zidane's shirt.
It is alleged that Zidane responded by sarcastically telling Materazzi that he could have his shirt as a souvenir at the end of the match. The Italian is alleged to have responded by saying that Zidane could keep it for his sister and then made an extremely derogatory comment about her that version is backed up by lip-readers from the Brazilian TV channel Globo. They claim Materazzi called her a "prostitute".
Monday, July 03, 2006
God knows how I found it but Australian Idol bloke, Millsy is travelling the world and blogging about it. I've always liked him. Cocky as all get up.
He hit some mug while doing the Auwssie thing in Germany last week. Here's his account of the fracas and arrest.
I was heading back to eat my dinner after going to the toilets and this dude jumped out at me and starting hugging me and shouting, 'Millsy Millsy, i gotta get a photo, come on i know its you'. So in almost a headlock position, i was confronted with another man, about 200pounds, BIG, and he started asking filthy questions about you know what, and something in me just clicked. Maybe it was because i had seen Sam Newman Punch that guy in the face on the footy show (oh yeah i went to that too, it was awesome) but something clicked and i jabbed the guy in the face and was grabbed by security and asked to leave...
Lucky for me, Nic at the time needed to go to the toilet and she ran to my rescue, explained the situation to the security guards and they let me back in and i ate my meal... shortly after finishing, a policeman came up to our table and asked me to come with him to the station. I was being charged with assault. I could not believe it...
After about thirty minutes in the police station, talking to a couple of aussies who had had their bags stolem, passports and wallets, my fate didnt seem so bad when i was asked to apologise to the man. I did so after he gave me a lecture of how to act when you are in the public eye no matter where you are in the world. Yeah buddy, thanks for that. he deserved it. He was being a tool."