Friday, March 30, 2007

I'm On Ur Newspaper, Stealing Ur Artickles!

Folks, meet Milo.

I've been looking after Milo for the past couple weeks while his mum's been cavorting with a bunch of bad lieutenant mates in lovely Thailand.

While his mum's been away, Milo (or Miles, Fatima, Dog or Maaaate), has been a great help to me writing this Nightwatchman stuff.

Just now he walked on the computer keys and did a Google search for "totjnnnnnnnnnn".

We were both surprised when nothing came up.

Here's a Boing Boing link to a bunch of cat pics with poorly spelled 'funny' captions.

Must go.

Milo wants his chicken now.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Notes On A Jandal

Nina talks funny.

She writes funny too.

Here's what the pleasantly mannered New Zealander wrote about Flinders Street Station in her brand spankin' blog thingy.
"She is the only station with a gender. She is a grand old dame, full of pigeon shit and criminals, but the pigeon shit spells out great expressions like 'carpet-bagger', and the criminals are Dickensian pick-pockets with fingerless gloves. Apparently there's a big old dance hall up there somewhere that no one uses. You can buy a greasy potato scallop there and feel like history."
Nice one.

Big In NY: Toe Cleavage

Over at the witty as heck publishing/gossip/style/stuff site, Gawker, there's a big debate on the yays and nays of toe cleavage.

Like here, in New York those horrible (but I hear, useful if you work in a kitchen or a boat) crocs are infesting, thongs (they call 'em flip flops) everywhere and people still wear those ridiculous lookin' brown velcro sandals (Tevas, apparently).

There may be the odd attractive foot walking around out there but I'm mostly irritated by any sight of toe in a shoe.

Always said it, everybody no matter how attractive they may be has an imperfection, and if you want to find that imperfection real quick, look down to the feet.

Gawker commenter, Ian Spiegelman agrees:
"Toe cleavage is like anything else: it's attractive on attractive people--and by that I mean attractive women. No male should ever show his feet except at the beach. Period"
I'm with another commenter, Meredith who reckons:
"Toe cleavage: nice in the right shoes.
Those shoes: not nice.
Flip-flops: never, ever, ever. Men or women. No. Unless you're on the beach.
Tevas: Are you fucking kidding me."
Tevas and Crocs?

Both abominations.

"Honest to God, I've always assumed that anyone in Tevas inherently smells like feet.

It is what it is."

"I will see your Tevas and raise you Crocs. I maintain that they were created for the sole (geddit?) purpose of destroying my spirit.
Mine too.

Please, make your notes about jandals in the comments bit below.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Don't Cock It Up Fellas!

Life resumes this weekend.

And a big welcome from the the wittier folks at the Collingwood outer to exciting new recruits....

Brad Dick

Shannon Cox

and drum roll please.....


Oh What A Nice Pear!

"Absolute Pears has the cooler bottle design, the ubiquitous ad campaign—including a slick slithering TV spot—and the trial-inviting copy line "The New Taste Of Temptation."

What's Grey Goose's La Poire got going for it?

One thing only: it doesn't taste like a combo of cough medicine and snake shit.

Seriously, Absolut Pears is fucking awful; a very fake tasting "pear" flavor that completely overpowers the vodka."
Copyranter proving again he is one of the only advertising bloggers worth reading.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Welcome To The House Of Fun

You got to hand it (wash first, please), to obsessive compulsives.

They sure have imagination.

On last night's ABC documentary, The House Of Obsessive Compulsives there was a bloke who was terrified of confessing to a crime he didn't commit.

So scared, the poor bloke chained himself to his bed so he wouldn't sleepwalk his way to the constabulary.

But get this.

He was scared shitless of pens and paper.

Who knows, he could write a confession if he wasn't careful!

A sad and brilliant documentary.

Make sure you catch next Thursday's conclusion at 9.30pm.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Rudeboy's Pot Of Gold

Rudeboy wrote an incredulous music column called Rudeboy's Pot Of Gold in Zebra years ago.

Now he breeds fighting cocks somewhere in Thailand and works on oil rigs as a movie projectionist.

Here's the first ever column he wrote, reviewing a dance compilation by Melbourne's Opus Collective.
Fuck my old boots, you have got to be joking. This would have been shit 15 years ago. It should be re-named Hopeless Collective.

It amazes me that people have got the nerve to release this nauseating bollox. These people must be really up themselves. Can't be from Melbourne. Oh, they meet in Fitzroy, it says on the cover...That explains it.

Sad sacks who learnt to store plastic buckets full to the brim of shit under the stairs from their mother. Absolute c*nts. Track number nine Dance On The Tables is the worst - some inane whining child molester touching himself backed by a vegan dwarf shitting dahl like a duck. Blow it out your arse, which is quite a lot like what this mob did when they released this. I still refuse to take these hair matted with spunk art freaks seriously. Ooh queue up for hours at film festivals, bring our own fruit and nuts talking banal shit all through a Polish remake of American Quilt. The only way to enjoy this would be whilst shoving a carrot up your arse and the carrot bit is the only bit that's enjoyable.

Great Moments In Television: The Cult's Ian Astbury Appears Hey Hey It's Saturday

The viewing public were amazed to see Ian Astbury appear as a guest judge on Red Faces.

First, a toothless old lady sang Livin' On A Prayer.

Astbury gave her the paltry score of three.

Next contestant, a Chad Morgan lookalike, played the spoons.

The score, only four.

Then a couple of four year olds dressed in white suits sang La Bamba.

Astbury's score?

A competition winning , nine!

Saturday, March 10, 2007

I Love You Sophie, You Are Really Tops

Found some old magazines I used to write in.

Here's a review of one of the best shows I've ever been to.

(Festival Hall)

I went to see Bardot at the Festival Hall and it was really good. I like the yellow hair one called Sophie because she dressed up in Mummy's clothing and sang happy birthday to the fat man with the hair on his face. The fat man with the hair on his face liked it a lot, his smile was funny.

Before the Bardots came on stage, me and all the other kids screamed very loud. I screamed loud and yelled "I love you Sophie, you are really tops!" My mummy said that the kids screaming and the funny smell would have been same as the Festival Hall when Beatles and Peter, Paul, Tom, Dick and Mary were there in the olden days.

Bardot were really good and there was this one time, this one time when all the Bardots wore Tiffany's hats and she said that they stole the hats. They gave her the hats and then sang my favourite song Poison. I like Poison when they say "Don't treat me bad. Don't treat me bad, my glove fell in the ocean."

I like boats.

One day I am going to the ocean on a boat.

Bardot are good dancers. I don't really like the Katie one. She talks too much and doesn't wear pretty dresses.

Bardot play lots of slow songs in their concerts. I don't really like slow songs. I like the man playing guitar in the Bardot show. His guitar made twiddly twiddly noises. I like the pretty lights. Bardot are better than Freddo Frogs. I like the strawberry ones.

- Glenn Peters (aged 27)

Friday, March 09, 2007

Dinking As Modern Art

Good lookin' Melbourne hipsters who weren't at the fashion festival were doing blockies at a an art launch/installation thing last night.

Local artist, Lane Cormick gave many of his fancy dressed mates dinks around the block. In a room upstairs from where this photo was taken was a scrawled note of explanation.

Something about how when he was a young roustabout, he would hear local folklore about an older hoodlum who dared to ride his unregistered trail bike into Melbourne's CBD.

After so many years, last night was Cormick's chance recreate the legend by giving his mates illegal dinks around the city streets.

And he did so without being caught by the fuzz!

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

73 Sleeps Until Scrabble Gets A Whole Lot Easier

A big bunch of new words become legal for Australian Scrabble players on May 19. Me and me scrabs mates are so excited, we're having a party, stuffing ourselves with ZA (pizza) to celebrate.

Why the party?

Now the only two letter Z word is ZO, for J is JO and F has only FA and FY BUT from May 19 onwards, we'll be able to play ZA, JA and FE!

Other notable inclusions are:

BOI: a boyish lesbian
ZOOT: Finally! I've been arguing for its inclusion for years.
ZEP: a long, zeppelin shaped sandwich
PYREX: a brand name sure, but I'm not complaining
LINUX: to shut the nerds up
ALF: an Australian yobbo
FAA: useful to hook onto AA
EMO: yes, that's right as in the dark clothed and dreary music fan
ONO: a Hawaiian fish
EXO: apparently Aussie slang for excellent
ZOL: a spliff
FIGJAM: yes, that's right
SJOE: now JOE can take an S both ends!


Remember, however tempting it may be, using any of the new words before May 19 is like opening your Christmas presents before Christmas Day..... CHEATING!

Friday, March 02, 2007

No Miss, He's Not A Donkey. He's A Super Rabbit!

There's so much going on in this crazy story from Galway, I'll have to tell it in point form.

* Man dressed in latex and handcuffs brings donkey to his hotel room

* Man arrested

* Man charged with cruelty to animals, lewd and offensive behavior

* The charge of wrecking the mini-bar is dropped. Why? The donkey did it.

* Man fined €2,000 for for bringing the donkey to the room under the Unlawful Accommodation of Donkeys Act 1837

* To bring the donkey to the room, man tells hotel reception that his companion wasn't a donkey, instead a breed of "super rabbit" he was taking to a pet fair

* Reception could have been convinced of his story if he didn't sign into the room as Mr Shrek

* Man tells the court he's lonely and suffered from a fixation with the Shrek movies and could constantly be heard at work talking to himself saying things like “Isn’t that right, Donkey?”

* Hotel only called police when "super rabbit" ran amok in corridor

* "Super rabbit" swallowed handcuff keys

Link to original Galway First story.