Somebody else blogged on this once (raise your hand, I can't be stuffed looking it up), but one site I just can't get enough of is Classic TV Guides. Let's set the wayback time travelling machine (in keeping with the trend of the last post) to a simpler time, almost 22 years ago to Monday September 7th, 1981 and see the highlights of the days programming.
ABC
1.11 Wild Wild World Of Animals
1.35 The Original Laurel And Hardy
2.20 Lassie
2.55 The Adventures Of Sir Prancelot
6.25 The Goodies
6.54 Videodisc
9.55 Country Music
10.45 Close
50 minutes of country music until close? I can't believe they didn't pay MORE than 12 cents a day for that!
7
7.50 New Shmoo
4.00 Shirl's Neighbourhood with Shirl Strachan
4.30 Lassie
5.00 Wheel Of Fortune. Ernie Sigley and Adriana Xenides
6.00 The New Price Is Right. With Ian Turpie. (Premiere)
7.30 That's Incredible
1.20 Close
A veritable treasure chest of viewing for gameshow fans. Sigley version Wheel and the first episode of Turpie's still definative Price is Right. Note that 7 were also having a crack at screening Lassie.
9
6.30 King Leonardo And His Short Subjects
6.55 Go Health
7.30 The Bang Shang Gang
5.30 Family Feud. Daryl Somers
9.25 Go Lotto
9.30 The Don Lane Show
Not too much excitement on 9, although the Bang Shang Gang sound like they could have been providing something more than kiddies cartoons. I see 9 were the only channel doing 24 hour programming back then, and they didn't even fill the graveyard shift with crappy informercials and ads for tabletop dancing clubs either.
10
6.55 Religion
10.30 Bernard King Show
4.00 Simon Townsend's Wonder World
7.30 John Laws' World: National Parks, Playground or Paradise?
8.30 Prisoner
12.30 Close
The undisputed (Bernard) king of the box, even if the ratings say nobody was watching. Five minutes of religion in the morning (which one? It doesn't matter!) plus Towsend, Laws and Prisoner in it's prime = a star studded lineup that the networks would be pleased to have now. Well ahead of their time.
SBS
7.30 World News with George Donikian
8.00 Isaura The Slave. (Brazil)
Very much still in it's infancy. 4hrs 45mins of programming a night, no soccer and no Les Murray. And only one film that sounded like a thinly veiled porno. On the upside celebrity South Melbourne supporter Donikian features strongly.
Sunday, 31 August 2003
Time Travelling nut exposed
Remember Caz's time travel spammer? If you don't you're not trying because it only happened yesterday
Wired has a report on the nutbag behind the scheme.
A trail of Internet clues has fingered Robert "Robby" Todino as the source of the time-travel messages. In a telephone interview last week, the 22-year-old Woburn, Massachusetts, resident admitted that he has sent nearly 100 million of the bizarre messages since November 2001.
"It almost feels worthless now because the people who are monitoring my every move always seem to win. But it's the only form of communication I have right now," Todino said.
His father, Robert Todino Sr., worries that malicious users have preyed on Robby's "psychological problems" and bilked him out of money.
"What bothers me is that some people are trying to sell him equipment and take advantage of him," said Todino Sr. "He's invested a lot of money into it and has been hurt by it."
But Robby insists that he is "perfectly mentally stable," and that the time-travel technology he seeks is out there somewhere.
"A lot of people will say the stuff I talk about is crazy and out of this world. But I know for a fact that it is true and does exist. Untrained minds may disagree with me, but they don't have access to the sources that I do," he said.
He continues,
Todino believes that if it hadn't been for an intervention by "the conspiracy," he might finally have laid his hands on a time-travel machine.
"There are forces that are constantly monitoring, and anyone who tries to send something to those coordinates will get it blocked," he said. "But certain intergalactic couriers have the means to deliver the stuff to me. And I'm sure if I pursued it I could get something out of that."
I've travelled into the future (President Schwarzenneger sends his regards) and I can tell young Mr. Todino that he's got an extended stay in a psychiatric facility coming his way.
Wired has a report on the nutbag behind the scheme.
A trail of Internet clues has fingered Robert "Robby" Todino as the source of the time-travel messages. In a telephone interview last week, the 22-year-old Woburn, Massachusetts, resident admitted that he has sent nearly 100 million of the bizarre messages since November 2001.
"It almost feels worthless now because the people who are monitoring my every move always seem to win. But it's the only form of communication I have right now," Todino said.
His father, Robert Todino Sr., worries that malicious users have preyed on Robby's "psychological problems" and bilked him out of money.
"What bothers me is that some people are trying to sell him equipment and take advantage of him," said Todino Sr. "He's invested a lot of money into it and has been hurt by it."
But Robby insists that he is "perfectly mentally stable," and that the time-travel technology he seeks is out there somewhere.
"A lot of people will say the stuff I talk about is crazy and out of this world. But I know for a fact that it is true and does exist. Untrained minds may disagree with me, but they don't have access to the sources that I do," he said.
He continues,
Todino believes that if it hadn't been for an intervention by "the conspiracy," he might finally have laid his hands on a time-travel machine.
"There are forces that are constantly monitoring, and anyone who tries to send something to those coordinates will get it blocked," he said. "But certain intergalactic couriers have the means to deliver the stuff to me. And I'm sure if I pursued it I could get something out of that."
I've travelled into the future (President Schwarzenneger sends his regards) and I can tell young Mr. Todino that he's got an extended stay in a psychiatric facility coming his way.
Public Apology
You may remember way back (well a couple of months ago anyway) when I rated the AFL club songs I gave the impossibly jaunty Sydney tune a rather low rating. Well after hearing it in full today for the first time in ages, and realising that it has a twanging banjo solo in the middle, I've decided to award it extra points. They don't do the bizarre "Up there Cazaly" ripoff song in Melbourne now either, which is a positive step.
I ranked them 11th, behind Essendon and Carlton but I'd now like to jump them above both those two.
You can be sure, though, that no matter how many times I hear the Port Adelaide song (and everytime is a torture) I'll never like it. I'm going to find some forgotten old tune and rip it off shamelessly to create them a new song one day. Not today though.
Speaking of that theme songs post a charming creature known only as "yo" (as in, "Yo dude - this guy is a dickhead") posted a comment a few days ago that said...
eagles rule eat shit
You can't argue with a well thought out and crafted argument like that.
I ranked them 11th, behind Essendon and Carlton but I'd now like to jump them above both those two.
You can be sure, though, that no matter how many times I hear the Port Adelaide song (and everytime is a torture) I'll never like it. I'm going to find some forgotten old tune and rip it off shamelessly to create them a new song one day. Not today though.
Speaking of that theme songs post a charming creature known only as "yo" (as in, "Yo dude - this guy is a dickhead") posted a comment a few days ago that said...
eagles rule eat shit
You can't argue with a well thought out and crafted argument like that.
Saturday, 30 August 2003
They never even sent a card
On the verge of the AFL finals I think it's time to reflect on the day I helped Collingwood win the 1990 Premiership. Yes I, as a 9-year-old, helped the Pies to their first flag in years.
1990, the first year of the AFL under it's new name, was an odd one. Round One featured the Brisbane Bears winning and Hawthorn beating Geelong in the Grand Final rematch by 125 points. Next week North Melbourne would score more than two-hundred in a 121pt victory over the hapless Tigers. Ludicrous scores were the order of the day almost weekly, you barely ever see a team crack 150 in a game yet thirteen years ago it would happen every round. Essendon finished the home-and-away season as minor premiers and earned the first finals week off. Melbourne and Hawthorn would clash in an elimination final (The Demons would beat the Hawks for the second straight week) and Collingwood would play West Coast at Waverley. This is where I come in.
I've got no idea why I was there that day, I think the guy from school I went with must have been a Collingwood fan or something. Given that the only other memory I have of this guy is that we once played Double Dragon II on my NES and he lived near the old Camberwell tip we can't have been that close friends.
It was a close game all day. Collingwood by 5 at quarter-time, 12 at half-time and 2 at three-quarter-time. They were kicking to the scoreboard end during the final term and were clinging onto a one point lead deep in the last quarter when the ball was driven inside the Eagles 50. Peter Sumich took a grab deep in the left forward pocket and was lining up his kick when the final siren sounded. We'd been standing right up on the fence in that pocket all day, and now with the scores level and time elapsed one of the top goalkickers was standing a few feet from us lining up one of the most important kicks of his career. How did we react? With a sense of awe befitting the occasion? With respect for the enormity of the situation unfolding in front of us? Hell no, we started abusing the bastard with all we had. I can't remember exactly what was said, I'm sure that I wasn't as foul mouthed then as I am now so it was all probably pretty weak ("You're a very stupid stupid head man!") but the desired effect was had and he missed the kick causing a draw. You may note I'm conveniently ignoring the fact that it was a ludicrously hard kick and instead claiming victory for Victorian football on my own behalf but you'll have to live with that. The crowd of 57,546 (thank you AFL Tables) fell silent and a replay was scheduled a week later on the same ground.
We then proceeded to ransack the belongings of the Eagles cheersquad as they were having a kick on the ground afterwards. The rolls of stickytape I flogged from them that day were still being used in my household well into the middle of the decade. Sadly the big wooden pole I flogged was slightly less useful and spent most of it's last few years sitting next to our fridge waiting to be used for something.
I've never actually seen the game since, but if the camera angle focuses on him in front of the crowd you'll surely see me hurling some fairly lame abuse at ol' Pete.
The Eagles had enjoyed the last of their luck by forcing a draw and lost the replay by 59 points. They went on to beat Melbourne by five goals in a Semi Final at their third Waverley game in three weeks before losing to Essendon in the Prelim final. The Pies faced off against the Bombers a week later in an October Grand Final, punched on at quarter-time and ended up as 48 point winners.
So, Collingwood's 1990 Premiership could not have been possible without me. Sadly I've never been able to engineer the same sort of result for Melbourne, although I did cause Tony Modra to kick ten goals in a game for Fremantle during 1999 by specifically requesting to his face that he didn't do it an hour before the game and I informed Shane Woewodin he was going to win the Brownlow halfway through the 2000 season to which he responded "Nah, not this year" and proceeded to win the thing, play a couple more ordinary seasons for us and then get traded to, conspiracy theory alert, Collingwood.
Maybe *hint* Essendon will *hint* lose their first finals game by a record *hint* margin this *hint* year?
1990, the first year of the AFL under it's new name, was an odd one. Round One featured the Brisbane Bears winning and Hawthorn beating Geelong in the Grand Final rematch by 125 points. Next week North Melbourne would score more than two-hundred in a 121pt victory over the hapless Tigers. Ludicrous scores were the order of the day almost weekly, you barely ever see a team crack 150 in a game yet thirteen years ago it would happen every round. Essendon finished the home-and-away season as minor premiers and earned the first finals week off. Melbourne and Hawthorn would clash in an elimination final (The Demons would beat the Hawks for the second straight week) and Collingwood would play West Coast at Waverley. This is where I come in.
I've got no idea why I was there that day, I think the guy from school I went with must have been a Collingwood fan or something. Given that the only other memory I have of this guy is that we once played Double Dragon II on my NES and he lived near the old Camberwell tip we can't have been that close friends.
It was a close game all day. Collingwood by 5 at quarter-time, 12 at half-time and 2 at three-quarter-time. They were kicking to the scoreboard end during the final term and were clinging onto a one point lead deep in the last quarter when the ball was driven inside the Eagles 50. Peter Sumich took a grab deep in the left forward pocket and was lining up his kick when the final siren sounded. We'd been standing right up on the fence in that pocket all day, and now with the scores level and time elapsed one of the top goalkickers was standing a few feet from us lining up one of the most important kicks of his career. How did we react? With a sense of awe befitting the occasion? With respect for the enormity of the situation unfolding in front of us? Hell no, we started abusing the bastard with all we had. I can't remember exactly what was said, I'm sure that I wasn't as foul mouthed then as I am now so it was all probably pretty weak ("You're a very stupid stupid head man!") but the desired effect was had and he missed the kick causing a draw. You may note I'm conveniently ignoring the fact that it was a ludicrously hard kick and instead claiming victory for Victorian football on my own behalf but you'll have to live with that. The crowd of 57,546 (thank you AFL Tables) fell silent and a replay was scheduled a week later on the same ground.
We then proceeded to ransack the belongings of the Eagles cheersquad as they were having a kick on the ground afterwards. The rolls of stickytape I flogged from them that day were still being used in my household well into the middle of the decade. Sadly the big wooden pole I flogged was slightly less useful and spent most of it's last few years sitting next to our fridge waiting to be used for something.
I've never actually seen the game since, but if the camera angle focuses on him in front of the crowd you'll surely see me hurling some fairly lame abuse at ol' Pete.
The Eagles had enjoyed the last of their luck by forcing a draw and lost the replay by 59 points. They went on to beat Melbourne by five goals in a Semi Final at their third Waverley game in three weeks before losing to Essendon in the Prelim final. The Pies faced off against the Bombers a week later in an October Grand Final, punched on at quarter-time and ended up as 48 point winners.
So, Collingwood's 1990 Premiership could not have been possible without me. Sadly I've never been able to engineer the same sort of result for Melbourne, although I did cause Tony Modra to kick ten goals in a game for Fremantle during 1999 by specifically requesting to his face that he didn't do it an hour before the game and I informed Shane Woewodin he was going to win the Brownlow halfway through the 2000 season to which he responded "Nah, not this year" and proceeded to win the thing, play a couple more ordinary seasons for us and then get traded to, conspiracy theory alert, Collingwood.
Maybe *hint* Essendon will *hint* lose their first finals game by a record *hint* margin this *hint* year?
"Music Television is shit" shock
I'm watching Video Hits. No idea why but I am, and it's fulfilling all my suspicions about how shit the songs in the Top 40 are. I look at the charts every week and am lucky to have heard one or two of the top 20, after watching this show I'm happy to return to blissful ignorance.
And could they play that bloody ad where the guy horns onto the Shakira cardboard cutout any more? It's on once every ad break. I know they're bankrolling the show but surely as a huge multinational company they've got more than one advertisement in the vaults that they can use. How about something with a scantily clad Britney Spears and a donkey?
And there's another cover of Boys of Summer going around. Is that song becoming the new "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds"? A standard cover for every bogan with a guitar and drums.
Whoa, and don't get me started on this band Jet. How they managed to launch a record company bidding war is a mystery to me. Tonight on Channel 10 "When cocaine snorting, ponytailed record executives go too far" - a shocking tale of "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING PAYING THESE DUDS 5 MILLION DOLLARS?"
And could they play that bloody ad where the guy horns onto the Shakira cardboard cutout any more? It's on once every ad break. I know they're bankrolling the show but surely as a huge multinational company they've got more than one advertisement in the vaults that they can use. How about something with a scantily clad Britney Spears and a donkey?
And there's another cover of Boys of Summer going around. Is that song becoming the new "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds"? A standard cover for every bogan with a guitar and drums.
Whoa, and don't get me started on this band Jet. How they managed to launch a record company bidding war is a mystery to me. Tonight on Channel 10 "When cocaine snorting, ponytailed record executives go too far" - a shocking tale of "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING PAYING THESE DUDS 5 MILLION DOLLARS?"
All the excitement of the finals...
Except that we're shit. Yes, it's the final day of the season for Melbourne fans who have been tortured by our worst season since the infamous 1997 shambles. And have I told you how much I hate this fucking priority pick? Even I, the most strident person in favor of taking anyone who suggests throwing the games to get it outside a shooting them, am having a crisis about what I want to happen today. I just know deep down they'll use the extra pick on some dud who's never seen a football in their lives before, some kid from the jungles of Tanzania, so we may as well win today.
I must say I won't be celebrating if we do, and I won't be upset if we don't. Thanks to the AFL for screwing up the last round of the year for us.
I must say I won't be celebrating if we do, and I won't be upset if we don't. Thanks to the AFL for screwing up the last round of the year for us.
Friday, 29 August 2003
Conspiracy
Isn't it suspicious how clearly shit film "The Hot Chick" was universally panned by critics when it first came out in the cinemas but now that it's been released on video/dvd they've decided it's not so bad after all? One star ratings are suddenly 2 and half stars.
Brown paper bags full of cash involved somewhere along the line? I think so.
Brown paper bags full of cash involved somewhere along the line? I think so.
Monday, 25 August 2003
Ungrateful Bastards!
What is it with Melbourne players missing a whole season and then deciding to piss off to another club for cash?
Steven Powell missed all of 2001, came back in 2002 and then pissed off to St. Kilda at the end of the year for a fat wad of cash.
Now Guy Rigoni is looking at a similar scam after missing all of 2002.
I'll be following the progress of Troy Broadbridge very closely next year, after knee and shoulder injuries put him out of action this season. If he even hints at legging it to another club I'll be calling for a Royal Commission.
Steven Powell missed all of 2001, came back in 2002 and then pissed off to St. Kilda at the end of the year for a fat wad of cash.
Now Guy Rigoni is looking at a similar scam after missing all of 2002.
I'll be following the progress of Troy Broadbridge very closely next year, after knee and shoulder injuries put him out of action this season. If he even hints at legging it to another club I'll be calling for a Royal Commission.
Away with you
I'm tremendously amused by the cover of the Primary Colors DVD that contains a glowing endorsement of the film as "a must see" by Richard Wilkins.
Who seriously expects anyone to give a shit what Richard f'ing Wilkins thinks about a film?
Who seriously expects anyone to give a shit what Richard f'ing Wilkins thinks about a film?
Dilemma
For those of us who follow shit AFL teams it's becoming harder to know who you want to win the thing this year.
If North or Hawthorn had made the 8 it would have been a lock, you'd go for them in the first week and then say "oh well, it was never meant to be" when they got knocked out then sit back and watch some interstate team win the thing. But who do we get representing Victoria instead? Bloody Essendon and Collingwood.
Now I've never hated Essendon, but ever since that day they traumatised me by reeling in a 45 point lead in the last quarter and winning by one I've been deeply suspicious of them. The 2000 Grand Final didn't help, and the less said about the Matthew Lloyd "Oh I have been shot! Now I will kick a goal" incident from a few weeks back the better. I revelled in their Grand Final loss a couple of years back and predicted them to fail miserably this season - sadly they actually look a chance.
Collingwood is a tough one for me. I might be the only person in the world who doesn't go for them that actually somewhat likes the Pies. They've got a very jolly theme - come on, where else have you seen the word "cakewalk" used in a song? - and their colors are sensible. We also beat them a lot in the past. Besides that I have many friends who go for them, and as long as they're not playing Melbourne I'd rather see them go home happy then hold the sort of grudge that everyone else has without actually knowing why.
I even quite like Eddie McGuire. Does this make me an awful person?
On the other hand I hate those fucking mutant fans in their cheersquad like "Joffa" who should be forcibly sterilized. You'll never hear the end of it from those glory-hunting idiots if they win it, so we don't want them to get up.
As for the others, Brisbane have had it enough. West Coast have good colors but a shit theme song. Port Adelaide have neither of the above. Fremantle have a song that everyone except me hates. Sydney winning would mean there's only two sides that won the comp for the last time longer ago than Melbourne and Adelaide are ok, I still have fond memories of them doing St. Kilda in 1997, but I can't stand Wayne Carey or Ronnie Burns.
The best case scenario for me would be for Essendon to somehow heroically make the GF, against Sydney or Fremantle and then lose by a point in the last minute to a Jeff Farmer/Troy Simmonds/Troy Longmuir goal when Matthew Lloyd gives away a freekick causing a goal (why's he playing in defense? I haven't decided that yet.), and resulting in Kevin Sheedy spontaneously combusting in the coaches box.
It's going to be a long September.
If North or Hawthorn had made the 8 it would have been a lock, you'd go for them in the first week and then say "oh well, it was never meant to be" when they got knocked out then sit back and watch some interstate team win the thing. But who do we get representing Victoria instead? Bloody Essendon and Collingwood.
Now I've never hated Essendon, but ever since that day they traumatised me by reeling in a 45 point lead in the last quarter and winning by one I've been deeply suspicious of them. The 2000 Grand Final didn't help, and the less said about the Matthew Lloyd "Oh I have been shot! Now I will kick a goal" incident from a few weeks back the better. I revelled in their Grand Final loss a couple of years back and predicted them to fail miserably this season - sadly they actually look a chance.
Collingwood is a tough one for me. I might be the only person in the world who doesn't go for them that actually somewhat likes the Pies. They've got a very jolly theme - come on, where else have you seen the word "cakewalk" used in a song? - and their colors are sensible. We also beat them a lot in the past. Besides that I have many friends who go for them, and as long as they're not playing Melbourne I'd rather see them go home happy then hold the sort of grudge that everyone else has without actually knowing why.
I even quite like Eddie McGuire. Does this make me an awful person?
On the other hand I hate those fucking mutant fans in their cheersquad like "Joffa" who should be forcibly sterilized. You'll never hear the end of it from those glory-hunting idiots if they win it, so we don't want them to get up.
As for the others, Brisbane have had it enough. West Coast have good colors but a shit theme song. Port Adelaide have neither of the above. Fremantle have a song that everyone except me hates. Sydney winning would mean there's only two sides that won the comp for the last time longer ago than Melbourne and Adelaide are ok, I still have fond memories of them doing St. Kilda in 1997, but I can't stand Wayne Carey or Ronnie Burns.
The best case scenario for me would be for Essendon to somehow heroically make the GF, against Sydney or Fremantle and then lose by a point in the last minute to a Jeff Farmer/Troy Simmonds/Troy Longmuir goal when Matthew Lloyd gives away a freekick causing a goal (why's he playing in defense? I haven't decided that yet.), and resulting in Kevin Sheedy spontaneously combusting in the coaches box.
It's going to be a long September.
Straight to hell
Battle Royale is the sort of film only the Japanese would make, and even then it's only to make sure we all know they're sicker than the "Ilsa - She Wolf of the SS" producing Germans (actually I think it was American, but work with me here).
I'm not sure what sick bastard sat around and thought up a film where 42 14-year-olds butcher each other on a deserted island in some zany government program but I've got the sneaking suspicion that they're probably in charge of childrens programming on Tokyo TV or something. It's not that bad a movie really, there's some rather entertaining moments in it (especially the introduction video the kiddies have to watch) and some tremendous brutality for those of you who enjoy that sort of thing, but it's not exactly required viewing. Bizarrely enough there's a running countdown of how many of the little dears are still alive - it looks like one of those jolly Japanese horse racing games you download and attempt to play despite a complete lack of understanding of the language.
That said I'd watch the sequel which has apparently been made - even if it does seem reminscent of that rotten Rutger Hauer film "Wedlock", a movie so bad it features a walk-on part by Warwick Capper.
IMDB should give me a fat cheque for all the links to them I've done in this post.
I'm not sure what sick bastard sat around and thought up a film where 42 14-year-olds butcher each other on a deserted island in some zany government program but I've got the sneaking suspicion that they're probably in charge of childrens programming on Tokyo TV or something. It's not that bad a movie really, there's some rather entertaining moments in it (especially the introduction video the kiddies have to watch) and some tremendous brutality for those of you who enjoy that sort of thing, but it's not exactly required viewing. Bizarrely enough there's a running countdown of how many of the little dears are still alive - it looks like one of those jolly Japanese horse racing games you download and attempt to play despite a complete lack of understanding of the language.
That said I'd watch the sequel which has apparently been made - even if it does seem reminscent of that rotten Rutger Hauer film "Wedlock", a movie so bad it features a walk-on part by Warwick Capper.
IMDB should give me a fat cheque for all the links to them I've done in this post.
I hate reality television
I can't say I've ever actually watched an episode ("Hey, so what would you know then?" Fuck off!) but I've been seeing these ads for Australian Idol and have been left distinctly unimpressed. I don't understand the obsession some people have. The "traffic accident" justification only goes so far - if we really enjoyed watching television that made no sense and continuously lurched from disaster to disaster the Mick Molloy Show would have made a far greater impression.
It all seems a little, I don't know... weak? Your reality show stereotypes (fat guy, pretty chick, crazy ethnic dude with big hair) stand around singing horrid renditions of songs that have been covered by every lounge singer in the world a hundred times better and we're supposed to ring up and vote as to which one was best. A nil-all draw if the ad is anything to go by. If one of them got up and sung "Fuck tha Police" or "Cop Killer" I'd tune in - but they did "What a Wonderful World" instead and I threw up.
I should have entered this competition and done my award winning* karoake rendition of "Dreadlock Holiday". That would have given these pop music rejects to think about. And even if I failed at least I could ask Marcia Hines for Deni's phone number.
Call me when they take all the remaining contestants and either shoot them or lock them in a house somewhere.
* Most pissed performance - 2001-03
It all seems a little, I don't know... weak? Your reality show stereotypes (fat guy, pretty chick, crazy ethnic dude with big hair) stand around singing horrid renditions of songs that have been covered by every lounge singer in the world a hundred times better and we're supposed to ring up and vote as to which one was best. A nil-all draw if the ad is anything to go by. If one of them got up and sung "Fuck tha Police" or "Cop Killer" I'd tune in - but they did "What a Wonderful World" instead and I threw up.
I should have entered this competition and done my award winning* karoake rendition of "Dreadlock Holiday". That would have given these pop music rejects to think about. And even if I failed at least I could ask Marcia Hines for Deni's phone number.
Call me when they take all the remaining contestants and either shoot them or lock them in a house somewhere.
* Most pissed performance - 2001-03
Sunday, 24 August 2003
Bizarre Camberwell
We used to have a videogame arcade called "Magic City". It was a tremendously silly name, but from it's opening in the mid 90's until it's closure just months ago it provided many great memories.
I remember the four-way Daytona USA challenges where we'd bet money that, for the day, was completely absurd. Thankfully despite being shit I reguarly benefited from the catch-up logic of the game and managed to win. The greatest victory was one where I engineered a massive last corner crash and stormed home to win the money.
I fondly recall firing the puck of their inappropriately placed Table Hockey game out the door and halfway across Burke Road. How we laughed - especially as it almost decapitated a group of irritating schoolchildren. Well, some other irritating schoolchildren anyway.
It was there that I clocked Virtua Striker 2 countless times.
You could tell it was on the way out a year ago when they took half the machines out and put a big wall in the middle of the place. Then suddenly, as I walked in to continue my love affair with the Rescue 911 pinball machine that had such a low replay score that you could spend half a day playing on $2 it was all walled up. The days of high-class videogaming in Camberwell are over.
After a few months there's a sign announcing that a cafe (shock horror!) will replace Magic City. And what are the geniuses behind this project going to call the new upmarket eatery for the local yuppies.... It's going to called, umm, "Magic City". These people really have no imagination.
I remember the four-way Daytona USA challenges where we'd bet money that, for the day, was completely absurd. Thankfully despite being shit I reguarly benefited from the catch-up logic of the game and managed to win. The greatest victory was one where I engineered a massive last corner crash and stormed home to win the money.
I fondly recall firing the puck of their inappropriately placed Table Hockey game out the door and halfway across Burke Road. How we laughed - especially as it almost decapitated a group of irritating schoolchildren. Well, some other irritating schoolchildren anyway.
It was there that I clocked Virtua Striker 2 countless times.
You could tell it was on the way out a year ago when they took half the machines out and put a big wall in the middle of the place. Then suddenly, as I walked in to continue my love affair with the Rescue 911 pinball machine that had such a low replay score that you could spend half a day playing on $2 it was all walled up. The days of high-class videogaming in Camberwell are over.
After a few months there's a sign announcing that a cafe (shock horror!) will replace Magic City. And what are the geniuses behind this project going to call the new upmarket eatery for the local yuppies.... It's going to called, umm, "Magic City". These people really have no imagination.
Friday, 22 August 2003
Telecommunication troubles
I may have lost my trusty old Nokia 3310 phone. There's a chance it could still be in my locker at work but I'm preparing for the worst.
Is this the end of the phone with the Melbourne AFL cover, Super Mario Brothers ringtone and absurdly high Snake II High Score (2092 - for anyone taking notes)? More news as it comes to hand.
Is this the end of the phone with the Melbourne AFL cover, Super Mario Brothers ringtone and absurdly high Snake II High Score (2092 - for anyone taking notes)? More news as it comes to hand.
Tuesday, 19 August 2003
Raelians can help you escape the catholic church
But where's the fucking cloned baby already you FREAKS? The bloody thing should be almost a year old by now and ready to take over the world with it's super UFO-aware intelligence and genetically mutated and/or robotic limbs.
"Each year, Brazil's Catholic Church is losing millions of 'faithfuls' because they prefer religions that are more suitable to their way of life. The Raelian Movement of Brazil commits to increase this bleeding by revealing one of the Church's best kept secret: all is required to officially get out is to fill out an Apostasy form and send it to your diocese."
"Each year, Brazil's Catholic Church is losing millions of 'faithfuls' because they prefer religions that are more suitable to their way of life. The Raelian Movement of Brazil commits to increase this bleeding by revealing one of the Church's best kept secret: all is required to officially get out is to fill out an Apostasy form and send it to your diocese."
Great One Hit Wonders
#5 - Chumbawamba - Tubthumping (1998)
What a bloody irritating song this was. Even worse that it was by a bunch of British hippies who were destined never to be seen in the charts again. You might, if you've got a good memory (and are somewhat sad like me), remember it as the theme song to the first season of the NRL with different, team related lyrics ("We love the Rams!" "We love the Raiders!" "We love the Storm!") and a shot of Kim Beazley waving a Newcastle Knights jersey around as if the Perth Reds had never existed.
Anyway, everyone seemed to fall in love with it. Maybe it was just because it gave pissed people all over Australia something else other than Khe Sanh to sing with complete strangers at 3:45am on a Sunday morning. You'd even see groups of schoolkiddies wailing it on television (usually on something rancid like the Midday show) with conveniently replaced lyrics to mask the bits about drinking and pissing. It topped the chart for an ungodly amount of weeks (well, three anyway) between modern classics (ha!) Barbie Girl and Dr. Jones by Aqua. Dr. Jones actually stayed on top for 7 weeks but it's almost certain that the amount of play it got during that near two month period was one tenth of what Chumba got in their three weeks. Even the people who were queing up to buy the single in the first week were wishing it away after three.
Of course this was a period of undoubted slump for the Australian charts when you would struggle to find a half decent #1 song anywhere between "Don't Speak" by No Doubt (February 16th, 1998) and "No Scrubs" by TLC (May 16th, 1999 - hey, I said we were struggling here ok?) so it's no surprise that this song had it's chart success buried by the sheer amount of mediocre tracks going around at the time.
You'll still hear this on pretty much every radio station going around. It's one of those songs that the pop wankers will claim to fit their key demographic but that the rocking rock music stations (and Triple M, who pose as one) know will cause fat builders to dance around and sing as well.
Where Are They Now? When not writing left-wing protest music and picketing shit they've got a homepage that is helpfully "supplemented with links to anarchist websites." You can download a selection of wanky protest songs on topics like the war, sweat shops and almost certainly gay Eskimo rights. Sadly their lefty credentials are sort of shot to pieces when there's a huge banner reading "Online shopping now accepts credit cards!" all over the page though. I thought capitalism was evil? "But the profits all go to saving the oppressed Greek communist fishermen!" they probably said. Lies - we all know it goes to paying for another bong.
What a bloody irritating song this was. Even worse that it was by a bunch of British hippies who were destined never to be seen in the charts again. You might, if you've got a good memory (and are somewhat sad like me), remember it as the theme song to the first season of the NRL with different, team related lyrics ("We love the Rams!" "We love the Raiders!" "We love the Storm!") and a shot of Kim Beazley waving a Newcastle Knights jersey around as if the Perth Reds had never existed.
Anyway, everyone seemed to fall in love with it. Maybe it was just because it gave pissed people all over Australia something else other than Khe Sanh to sing with complete strangers at 3:45am on a Sunday morning. You'd even see groups of schoolkiddies wailing it on television (usually on something rancid like the Midday show) with conveniently replaced lyrics to mask the bits about drinking and pissing. It topped the chart for an ungodly amount of weeks (well, three anyway) between modern classics (ha!) Barbie Girl and Dr. Jones by Aqua. Dr. Jones actually stayed on top for 7 weeks but it's almost certain that the amount of play it got during that near two month period was one tenth of what Chumba got in their three weeks. Even the people who were queing up to buy the single in the first week were wishing it away after three.
Of course this was a period of undoubted slump for the Australian charts when you would struggle to find a half decent #1 song anywhere between "Don't Speak" by No Doubt (February 16th, 1998) and "No Scrubs" by TLC (May 16th, 1999 - hey, I said we were struggling here ok?) so it's no surprise that this song had it's chart success buried by the sheer amount of mediocre tracks going around at the time.
You'll still hear this on pretty much every radio station going around. It's one of those songs that the pop wankers will claim to fit their key demographic but that the rocking rock music stations (and Triple M, who pose as one) know will cause fat builders to dance around and sing as well.
Where Are They Now? When not writing left-wing protest music and picketing shit they've got a homepage that is helpfully "supplemented with links to anarchist websites." You can download a selection of wanky protest songs on topics like the war, sweat shops and almost certainly gay Eskimo rights. Sadly their lefty credentials are sort of shot to pieces when there's a huge banner reading "Online shopping now accepts credit cards!" all over the page though. I thought capitalism was evil? "But the profits all go to saving the oppressed Greek communist fishermen!" they probably said. Lies - we all know it goes to paying for another bong.
Reasons to visit South Florida now non-existant
From the Sun-Sentinel (don't these Americans have zany newspaper names?);
Threesomes are out. The Holy Trinity is in.
A former swingers club downtown is being turned into a church, bringing religion to a spot infamous for its 300-square-foot bed, adult videos and private sex rooms. Sunday morning crowds looking for spiritual fulfillment will replace patrons who spent early mornings looking for fulfillment of a different kind.
Neighbors say it's a prayer come true.
"A friend pointed out that it's going from sex club to God's club, so this is really a great feeling for all of us," said Ken Crawford, president of the local neighborhood association. "We've been working hard to get rid of prostitution, drug use and crime, and this will be the type of stable institution the neighborhood can build on."
God's club? There's no money in that. Ken Crawford's just bitter because the previous owners wouldn't let him in.
Threesomes are out. The Holy Trinity is in.
A former swingers club downtown is being turned into a church, bringing religion to a spot infamous for its 300-square-foot bed, adult videos and private sex rooms. Sunday morning crowds looking for spiritual fulfillment will replace patrons who spent early mornings looking for fulfillment of a different kind.
Neighbors say it's a prayer come true.
"A friend pointed out that it's going from sex club to God's club, so this is really a great feeling for all of us," said Ken Crawford, president of the local neighborhood association. "We've been working hard to get rid of prostitution, drug use and crime, and this will be the type of stable institution the neighborhood can build on."
God's club? There's no money in that. Ken Crawford's just bitter because the previous owners wouldn't let him in.
Nintendo = Yeast
What's the silliest idea you've ever had for a videogame? Big Brother simulation? All action in-depth political strategy in "National Party - The Offical Game"? A water-polo management strategy title? Well, whatever it is you've been beaten.
I posted about a Wuthering Heights RPG way back on November 11th last year with the contention that it was the strangest idea I'd ever seen - but I think we have a new winner.
Ladies and gentlemen of the gaming community, and indeed the world. I present to you,
Sack of Flour, Heart of Gold!
As Sack of Flour, a simple sack from a simple farm, your life is threatened by a plot to bake you to death! You must escape certain annihilation across the pernicious plains, the heinous hills, and through the ferocious forest into an unknown world where greater evils lurk around every corner.
The plot to end your life is far greater than you can imagine though, extending across space and time. Why do aliens want you dead? How have they taken control of our produce and livestock, and most importantly, our past? You must learn to master the Cosmic Gateways leading to the Shadow World and save the universe to save your life! You are SACK OF FLOUR!!!!!!!!!
Available for download now! Can you afford to wait a minute longer?
I posted about a Wuthering Heights RPG way back on November 11th last year with the contention that it was the strangest idea I'd ever seen - but I think we have a new winner.
Ladies and gentlemen of the gaming community, and indeed the world. I present to you,
Sack of Flour, Heart of Gold!
As Sack of Flour, a simple sack from a simple farm, your life is threatened by a plot to bake you to death! You must escape certain annihilation across the pernicious plains, the heinous hills, and through the ferocious forest into an unknown world where greater evils lurk around every corner.
The plot to end your life is far greater than you can imagine though, extending across space and time. Why do aliens want you dead? How have they taken control of our produce and livestock, and most importantly, our past? You must learn to master the Cosmic Gateways leading to the Shadow World and save the universe to save your life! You are SACK OF FLOUR!!!!!!!!!
Available for download now! Can you afford to wait a minute longer?
Sunday, 17 August 2003
If only...
.. we had a government sensible enough to ban Big Brother,
Parliamentary officials said parents had complained about boozing and sexual shenanigans on the series and most Malawians felt it might encourage immoral behaviour.
But lawyer Noel Chalamanda said Parliament had overstepped its mandate when it banned the show on August 5.
He said it had denied Malawians their right to free information and participation in cultural issues of their choice.
Malawi Television director general Benson Tembo says the broadcaster will consult with its board before deciding whether to air the show, which has shocked many conservative viewers.
Conservative viewers are always shocked. I can't understand why, surely they're watching some jebus program at the time the offensive content airs aren't they?
Meanwhile I can't believe somebody wrote the word "shenanigans" in an allegedly serious piece of journalism. That's always been my dream.
Parliamentary officials said parents had complained about boozing and sexual shenanigans on the series and most Malawians felt it might encourage immoral behaviour.
But lawyer Noel Chalamanda said Parliament had overstepped its mandate when it banned the show on August 5.
He said it had denied Malawians their right to free information and participation in cultural issues of their choice.
Malawi Television director general Benson Tembo says the broadcaster will consult with its board before deciding whether to air the show, which has shocked many conservative viewers.
Conservative viewers are always shocked. I can't understand why, surely they're watching some jebus program at the time the offensive content airs aren't they?
Meanwhile I can't believe somebody wrote the word "shenanigans" in an allegedly serious piece of journalism. That's always been my dream.
Worrying trend
I have no idea why I find it so amusing but that ad where the guy plays "Tequila" on the Saxophone for 30 seconds and then the crowd yell out "TOSHIBA!" at the end cracks me up severely. I'm not even sure it's supposed to be comedic.
Off to the funny farm I go!
Off to the funny farm I go!
I really can't come up with a catchy title for this
From BBC Wales
A man decapitated himself by tying a rope around his neck and attaching it to lamp post before driving away at high speed, an inquest has been told.
David Wackett from Bridgend, in south Wales, tied a slip knot around his neck and as he accelerated away, the rope tightened and took his head "clean off".
The 25-year-old's body was discovered by a colleague in the early hours of 6 December last year, in the car park of the B&Q store where he worked night shifts.
After hearing evidence from police that a website existed advising on this method of suicide, Bridgend Coroner Philip Walters said: "I find it quite incredible that web sites like this which tell you how to commit suicide in so many different ways should be allowed to exist.
So what? If people want to die, and they can bring themselves to take the ultimate step then they should know the facts of what does what and be able to choose a method they're comfortable with. Would these tools prefer this guy tries unsuccesfully to hang or shoot himself and end up as a vegetable for the rest of his life? Would they prefer he drove his car into traffic at high speed and killed innocent people as well? They'll tell you "oh we didn't want him to die at all!" with that kind of childlike innocence of somebody who doesn't quite understand what it feels like to stop living, or thinks they do because they wanted to die after Balmain lost the 1989 Grand Final. I've had crushing depression for the best part of the last ten years and there's plenty of times when the multitudes of different medication I've taken haven't worked (I don't even bother now) and I've wanted to end it all - I guess it's lucky for me (!?) that I've got some kind of mad self-preservation DNA thing happening that means I've never been able to do it but I'll admit to having, in some of the lowest moments of my life, looked at the very site they're talking about (I believe this is the document they're referring to if you're interested) before realising I couldn't go through with it. It was almost as if reading it made my realise what a mad, clinical thing I was considering - when you're sitting there reading people's discussions about which direction you should slash your wrists in to achieve the fastest possible death and actually thinking about doing it right there and then it suddenly seems like such a stupid idea. It suddenly came to me that if I was really serious I wouldn't be sitting there reading about it, I'd already have gone and done it - probably with pissweak "a 12-year-old girl could cut deeper than that - you can't even kill yourself properly DICKHEAD!" results. Then you realise that the people writing this haven't done it either, they're as big a bunch of softcocks as you are.
Of course some people, like the Welsh guy in the article, will go through with it but who are we to judge what they did was wrong? If they achieve what they set out to do it should be seen as, I won't say a 'good' thing, but not the terribly negative way it's portrayed. I feel terribly for the families of people who commit suicide, especially if there's no reason given, but the fact of the matter is that the person who owned the body felt they didn't want to live any longer and did something about it. It's tragic, but in a fucked up way it's a blow for self determination - your body, your choice.
I'm still not enamoured with the idea of living life in a world I, for the most part, hate but I'm starting to realise I'll have to learn to live with it but I'm not going to sit here and post about how if somebody is feeling suicidal they shouldn't do it because it's not up to me (or anyone else) to tell someone that. Only they know. All I say is make sure you're 100% sure you know that it's what you want - because I shouldn't think that it would be the perfect time to realise that life isn't so bad after all while you're bleeding to death on your bathroom floor or plunging off the Westgate Bridge.
Well that's lowered the tone of this blog hasn't it? I know I don't discuss my personal life much (read: at all) but this just had to be said.
A man decapitated himself by tying a rope around his neck and attaching it to lamp post before driving away at high speed, an inquest has been told.
David Wackett from Bridgend, in south Wales, tied a slip knot around his neck and as he accelerated away, the rope tightened and took his head "clean off".
The 25-year-old's body was discovered by a colleague in the early hours of 6 December last year, in the car park of the B&Q store where he worked night shifts.
After hearing evidence from police that a website existed advising on this method of suicide, Bridgend Coroner Philip Walters said: "I find it quite incredible that web sites like this which tell you how to commit suicide in so many different ways should be allowed to exist.
So what? If people want to die, and they can bring themselves to take the ultimate step then they should know the facts of what does what and be able to choose a method they're comfortable with. Would these tools prefer this guy tries unsuccesfully to hang or shoot himself and end up as a vegetable for the rest of his life? Would they prefer he drove his car into traffic at high speed and killed innocent people as well? They'll tell you "oh we didn't want him to die at all!" with that kind of childlike innocence of somebody who doesn't quite understand what it feels like to stop living, or thinks they do because they wanted to die after Balmain lost the 1989 Grand Final. I've had crushing depression for the best part of the last ten years and there's plenty of times when the multitudes of different medication I've taken haven't worked (I don't even bother now) and I've wanted to end it all - I guess it's lucky for me (!?) that I've got some kind of mad self-preservation DNA thing happening that means I've never been able to do it but I'll admit to having, in some of the lowest moments of my life, looked at the very site they're talking about (I believe this is the document they're referring to if you're interested) before realising I couldn't go through with it. It was almost as if reading it made my realise what a mad, clinical thing I was considering - when you're sitting there reading people's discussions about which direction you should slash your wrists in to achieve the fastest possible death and actually thinking about doing it right there and then it suddenly seems like such a stupid idea. It suddenly came to me that if I was really serious I wouldn't be sitting there reading about it, I'd already have gone and done it - probably with pissweak "a 12-year-old girl could cut deeper than that - you can't even kill yourself properly DICKHEAD!" results. Then you realise that the people writing this haven't done it either, they're as big a bunch of softcocks as you are.
Of course some people, like the Welsh guy in the article, will go through with it but who are we to judge what they did was wrong? If they achieve what they set out to do it should be seen as, I won't say a 'good' thing, but not the terribly negative way it's portrayed. I feel terribly for the families of people who commit suicide, especially if there's no reason given, but the fact of the matter is that the person who owned the body felt they didn't want to live any longer and did something about it. It's tragic, but in a fucked up way it's a blow for self determination - your body, your choice.
I'm still not enamoured with the idea of living life in a world I, for the most part, hate but I'm starting to realise I'll have to learn to live with it but I'm not going to sit here and post about how if somebody is feeling suicidal they shouldn't do it because it's not up to me (or anyone else) to tell someone that. Only they know. All I say is make sure you're 100% sure you know that it's what you want - because I shouldn't think that it would be the perfect time to realise that life isn't so bad after all while you're bleeding to death on your bathroom floor or plunging off the Westgate Bridge.
Well that's lowered the tone of this blog hasn't it? I know I don't discuss my personal life much (read: at all) but this just had to be said.
8-1? 8 bloody 1?
Nice to see two teams who in the not-too-distant future were merely a footnote to history taking their place in the Nationwide Conference this season.
The conference, for those non-soccer types and Premier League bandwagon scum amongst you is effectively the 5th division of English football. The actual football league itself (Division 1, 2 and 3) were always reluctant to let the Conference teams in at their own expense - and the denial of Stevenage Borough's promotion a few years back was one of the more cynical and corrupt decisions you'll ever see outside of a Manchester United match - but they've finally relented and allowed a 2 up, 2 down system from last season.
Yeovil Town and Doncaster were the two sides promoted. It's Yeovil's first time in the league, and Doncaster's return after five seasons in the wilderness. Their last season in the league was a farcical tale of dodgy business dealings and fraud. In fact the Chairman at the time paid an ex-SAS man to torch the Stadium, a cunning plan which was only rumbled when the secret service genius left a message on his phone saying "The jobs been done" after half the ground went up in flames.
The two sides unlucky enough to be relegated from the league last season were Shrewsbury (conquerors of Everton in the FA Cup) and Exeter City (who boasted magician tosser Uri Geller as Chairman and Michael f'ing Jackson as an honorary board member).
The real story in the Conference this season, though, is the return to the semi big-time of Aldershot Town and the oddly named Accrington Stanley.
The original Stanley played in the old Football League from it's foundation in 1888 until they collapsed under a mountain of debt in 1962 and were kicked out of the league. The new club was formed in 1968 and as their name was being used as the punchline in a milk ad (the premise was that they died because they didn't drink enough milk - christ I hate advertising execs) they were fighting through the lower realms of the game. Last year's winners of the Unibond Premier League (the northern feeder competition to the conference) they're just one promotion away from an historic return to the league who booted them out more than forty years ago.
Aldershot, on the other hand, left the league a much shorter time ago. Ironically enough, considering they both find themselves in the same league now, during 1992 they became the first side since Accrington to leave the league in the middle of a season. Crushed with debt they were taken over by a supposed "white knight" investor who actually turned out to be a teenage kid with a gift for speaking bullshit and too much time on his hands. They folded soon afterwards.
Starting the new club in the very same season, five divisions below where they had previously been, they rapidly rose through the divisions and were a fixture in the Ryman Premier League (the Southern conference feeder) for five seasons before finally capturing the championship last year.
They're both inspirations to sides like AFC Wimbledon who are attempting to do the same thing, albeit in a much shorter time. Along with AFC (season starts tonight!) I'll certainly be looking out for their results for the rest of the year.
The conference, for those non-soccer types and Premier League bandwagon scum amongst you is effectively the 5th division of English football. The actual football league itself (Division 1, 2 and 3) were always reluctant to let the Conference teams in at their own expense - and the denial of Stevenage Borough's promotion a few years back was one of the more cynical and corrupt decisions you'll ever see outside of a Manchester United match - but they've finally relented and allowed a 2 up, 2 down system from last season.
Yeovil Town and Doncaster were the two sides promoted. It's Yeovil's first time in the league, and Doncaster's return after five seasons in the wilderness. Their last season in the league was a farcical tale of dodgy business dealings and fraud. In fact the Chairman at the time paid an ex-SAS man to torch the Stadium, a cunning plan which was only rumbled when the secret service genius left a message on his phone saying "The jobs been done" after half the ground went up in flames.
The two sides unlucky enough to be relegated from the league last season were Shrewsbury (conquerors of Everton in the FA Cup) and Exeter City (who boasted magician tosser Uri Geller as Chairman and Michael f'ing Jackson as an honorary board member).
The real story in the Conference this season, though, is the return to the semi big-time of Aldershot Town and the oddly named Accrington Stanley.
The original Stanley played in the old Football League from it's foundation in 1888 until they collapsed under a mountain of debt in 1962 and were kicked out of the league. The new club was formed in 1968 and as their name was being used as the punchline in a milk ad (the premise was that they died because they didn't drink enough milk - christ I hate advertising execs) they were fighting through the lower realms of the game. Last year's winners of the Unibond Premier League (the northern feeder competition to the conference) they're just one promotion away from an historic return to the league who booted them out more than forty years ago.
Aldershot, on the other hand, left the league a much shorter time ago. Ironically enough, considering they both find themselves in the same league now, during 1992 they became the first side since Accrington to leave the league in the middle of a season. Crushed with debt they were taken over by a supposed "white knight" investor who actually turned out to be a teenage kid with a gift for speaking bullshit and too much time on his hands. They folded soon afterwards.
Starting the new club in the very same season, five divisions below where they had previously been, they rapidly rose through the divisions and were a fixture in the Ryman Premier League (the Southern conference feeder) for five seasons before finally capturing the championship last year.
They're both inspirations to sides like AFC Wimbledon who are attempting to do the same thing, albeit in a much shorter time. Along with AFC (season starts tonight!) I'll certainly be looking out for their results for the rest of the year.
Saturday, 16 August 2003
AFL player = Klepto?
Now, Carey shagging Anthony Stevens' wife is one thing - but this is just taking it too far.
Not sure of where this comes from, as I got it off the Bigfooty.com forums but it was in the Herald-Sun today as well.
Carlton again has pledged to stand by troubled ruckman Laurence Angwin after the 20-year-old was charged last week over the burglary of teammate Karl Norman's house.
In the latest in a series of run-ins with police, Angwin is alleged to have broken in to the Brunswick home of Norman through the roof. He is alleged to have stolen electrical goods and DVDs.
Carlton spokesman Ian Coutts yesterday said the club was aware of the new charges and would continue to work with Angwin, a 200-centimetre ruckman once tagged the new Shaun Rehn.
"We know there are some issues. We are aware of that and we are dealing with them with Laurie," Coutts said. "We will continue that work . . . in the hope that we can benefit both (him) and the Carlton footy club."
Angwin, the No. 7 pick in the 2000 draft, was delisted by Adelaide in 2001. He was picked up by the Blues this season after playing with the Box Hill Hawks in 2002.
Last month, he appeared in Frankston Magistrates Court on charges that he burgled a Chelsea house in May last year and stole goods worth $540. He is also facing charges over the theft of $113 worth of goods from an AFL sports store in July last year. He will reappear in court next month.
Last September, Angwin was convicted and fined $625 by the Adelaide Magistrates Court after he was caught driving with a blood alcohol reading of 0.107 per cent.
Angwin made his AFL debut against Melbourne in round 14 and has played three games and kicked four goals. He was a late withdrawal because of a groin injury from the team that lost to Port Adelaide last Sunday, but has been named in a back pocket in the Northern Bullants' VFL team to meet Springvale tomorrow.
What a wonderful teammate this idiot must be! Wonder if anything has mysteriously gone missing from Optus Oval in the last few months?
Not sure of where this comes from, as I got it off the Bigfooty.com forums but it was in the Herald-Sun today as well.
Carlton again has pledged to stand by troubled ruckman Laurence Angwin after the 20-year-old was charged last week over the burglary of teammate Karl Norman's house.
In the latest in a series of run-ins with police, Angwin is alleged to have broken in to the Brunswick home of Norman through the roof. He is alleged to have stolen electrical goods and DVDs.
Carlton spokesman Ian Coutts yesterday said the club was aware of the new charges and would continue to work with Angwin, a 200-centimetre ruckman once tagged the new Shaun Rehn.
"We know there are some issues. We are aware of that and we are dealing with them with Laurie," Coutts said. "We will continue that work . . . in the hope that we can benefit both (him) and the Carlton footy club."
Angwin, the No. 7 pick in the 2000 draft, was delisted by Adelaide in 2001. He was picked up by the Blues this season after playing with the Box Hill Hawks in 2002.
Last month, he appeared in Frankston Magistrates Court on charges that he burgled a Chelsea house in May last year and stole goods worth $540. He is also facing charges over the theft of $113 worth of goods from an AFL sports store in July last year. He will reappear in court next month.
Last September, Angwin was convicted and fined $625 by the Adelaide Magistrates Court after he was caught driving with a blood alcohol reading of 0.107 per cent.
Angwin made his AFL debut against Melbourne in round 14 and has played three games and kicked four goals. He was a late withdrawal because of a groin injury from the team that lost to Port Adelaide last Sunday, but has been named in a back pocket in the Northern Bullants' VFL team to meet Springvale tomorrow.
What a wonderful teammate this idiot must be! Wonder if anything has mysteriously gone missing from Optus Oval in the last few months?
Friday, 15 August 2003
Shake shake shake - shake your lefty
Remember my old friend Peter Woodforde of Melba, ACT? Hero of the Green Left Weekly letters page?
Well he's started on the Herald-Sun page as well. Today's effort was something to do with John Howard and masturbation. Suffice to say that the moment I saw those two things in the same paragraph my brain went into "avoid" mode and I forget everything I'd read. Shame really, because if it was calling Howard out on his wankfest "don't marry if you can't breed" philosophy it probably made sense too.
Meanwhile he failed to contribute anything to the Green Left letters page this week.. Hmmm suspicious!
Well he's started on the Herald-Sun page as well. Today's effort was something to do with John Howard and masturbation. Suffice to say that the moment I saw those two things in the same paragraph my brain went into "avoid" mode and I forget everything I'd read. Shame really, because if it was calling Howard out on his wankfest "don't marry if you can't breed" philosophy it probably made sense too.
Meanwhile he failed to contribute anything to the Green Left letters page this week.. Hmmm suspicious!
Disturbing political results
This page tells you what US Presidential candidate you should vote for judging on your political opinions. I'm a bit worried about my closest match,
1. Sharpton, Reverend Al - Democrat (100%)
Luckily my real choice is second,
2. Dean, Gov. Howard, VT - Democrat (96%)
Then it gets frightening again,
3. Green Party Candidate (95%)
Dubya comes in at a pissweak 27th of 33. I wouldn't vote for that nutbag if you paid me.
1. Sharpton, Reverend Al - Democrat (100%)
Luckily my real choice is second,
2. Dean, Gov. Howard, VT - Democrat (96%)
Then it gets frightening again,
3. Green Party Candidate (95%)
Dubya comes in at a pissweak 27th of 33. I wouldn't vote for that nutbag if you paid me.
I wish they all could be Californian elections
Politics1.com has a full list, with links to official websites, of the final 135 candidates for the Californian Recall election here.
It also tells you what each of them does for a job when they're not trying to scab their way into the Governor's Mansion through the backdoor.
Here are some of my favourites
Iris Adam (Natural Law) - Business Analyst & Frequent Candidate
Angelyne (Independent) - Entertainer & Billboard Self-Promoter
Joel Britton (Independent) - Communist Political Organizer, Retiree & '02 Illinois Governor Candidate
Art Brown (D) - Filmmaker
William Chambers (R) - Railroad Worker
Mary "Mary Carey" Cook (Independent) - Adult Movie Actress (She's got my vote! - Adam)
Larry Flynt (D) - Pornography Magazine Publisher & Casino Owner
Leo Gallagher (Independent) - Comedian
Jack Grisham (Independent) - Punk Rock Band Lead Singer & Laborer
Ivan Hall (Green) - Dental Lab Owner, Ex-School Bus Driver & Navy Veteran
Paul "Chip" Mailander (D) - Golf Pro
Mike McCarthy (Independent) - Used Car Dealer
Paul Nave (D) - Businessman, Ex-World Welterweight Boxing Champion & '00 State Assembly Candidate
Bill Prady (D) - TV Sitcom Producer & Writer
Kurt "Tachikaze" Rightmyer (Independent) - Middleweight Sumo Wrestler
Darrin Scheidle (D) - Electronic Fingerprinting Firm Owner
Peter Ueberroth (R) - 1984 US Olympics President & Ex-Major League Baseball Commissioner
I'll say this thousands more times before October 5th, but...
Best
Election
Ever.
Newspaper angst
Somebody once said to me that the Herald-Sun was the newspaper you only read outside of footy season. I think he was right. If you could read The Age without the aid of a dining table and they had a decent sports section I'm sure they wouldn't be lagging sadly behind the tabloid nutbags in the circulation stakes.
The last few weeks have proven everything that's wrong with The Hun; as it's affectionately known. It started a few weeks ago with a front cover story about a horse called "Oky Pinoky" (a name that I find strangely comical I must admit) who bit some kiddy at the children's playground he was living at. It was a human interest story (on the front page - hello big-time journalism!) with plenty of heart-warming shots of the beast eating food rather than a child for once.
That was lovely. A one-off comedy story to take our minds off the death and destruction in the world today. Except last week there was another article. Ol' Oky had been shipped off to some other place with kiddies and had taken a bite out of one of them too. Now I open today's paper and not only is there half a letters page of people writing in about the bloody thing but there's also a poll on whether or not it should be put down (you'd have to be a pretty heartless prick to vote yes, but it's not really the case) and, AND a f'ing article about how the bloody horse is now managed - yes managed - by Harry M Miller.
So, anybody who rings in and votes to shoot the thing will have to get through notorious media whore Harry first.
Sad.
The last few weeks have proven everything that's wrong with The Hun; as it's affectionately known. It started a few weeks ago with a front cover story about a horse called "Oky Pinoky" (a name that I find strangely comical I must admit) who bit some kiddy at the children's playground he was living at. It was a human interest story (on the front page - hello big-time journalism!) with plenty of heart-warming shots of the beast eating food rather than a child for once.
That was lovely. A one-off comedy story to take our minds off the death and destruction in the world today. Except last week there was another article. Ol' Oky had been shipped off to some other place with kiddies and had taken a bite out of one of them too. Now I open today's paper and not only is there half a letters page of people writing in about the bloody thing but there's also a poll on whether or not it should be put down (you'd have to be a pretty heartless prick to vote yes, but it's not really the case) and, AND a f'ing article about how the bloody horse is now managed - yes managed - by Harry M Miller.
So, anybody who rings in and votes to shoot the thing will have to get through notorious media whore Harry first.
Sad.
Wednesday, 13 August 2003
Adam = sex beast of the east?
Camberwell's reputation as lookalike HQ of the planet earth has taken a decided turn for the sinister. How I laughed at our female versions of Ian Knop, Dame Edna and Mark Latham - then it turns out the number one sex pervert of the eastern suburbs is doing a sterling imitation of - erm - me. It was in yesterday's Herald Sun Crimestoppers page.
Of course now is the time when my scanner refuses to work, so I'm admitting it sort of looks like me yet I can't post the picture to prove it doesn't really. Conspiracy is probably obvious, but when I make my scanner work again I'll be sure to put it up.
If you know me and/or look closely you can tell the differences are obvious - but I still have visions of old ladies smacking me out with their handbags as I walk down Burke Road.
Of course Camberwell is the nerdlinger capital of Victoria, and every second person walking around looks like that (too many internet cafes and network game places you see - and no I've never been to one, I like to confine my nerdy activities to the home) but it's not the point. Were this hornbag not significantly shorter than me with curly hair and had I not been in the midst of my every-week-without fail Wednesday trivia-night rampage at the time (and, you know, the fact that I'm not into flashing my knob at people in public) I'd be worried about the SWAT team booting my door down in the middle of the night and performing a Camp X-Ray style abduction. Besides, I wouldn't offer anyone money to get naked - they should be honoured enough to do it for free.
Suffice to say, if posting suddenly stops here with no explanation habeas corpus has been suspended and I'm being flogged repeatedly with the Yellow Pages L-Z in the basement of the local Police Station.
Of course now is the time when my scanner refuses to work, so I'm admitting it sort of looks like me yet I can't post the picture to prove it doesn't really. Conspiracy is probably obvious, but when I make my scanner work again I'll be sure to put it up.
If you know me and/or look closely you can tell the differences are obvious - but I still have visions of old ladies smacking me out with their handbags as I walk down Burke Road.
Of course Camberwell is the nerdlinger capital of Victoria, and every second person walking around looks like that (too many internet cafes and network game places you see - and no I've never been to one, I like to confine my nerdy activities to the home) but it's not the point. Were this hornbag not significantly shorter than me with curly hair and had I not been in the midst of my every-week-without fail Wednesday trivia-night rampage at the time (and, you know, the fact that I'm not into flashing my knob at people in public) I'd be worried about the SWAT team booting my door down in the middle of the night and performing a Camp X-Ray style abduction. Besides, I wouldn't offer anyone money to get naked - they should be honoured enough to do it for free.
Suffice to say, if posting suddenly stops here with no explanation habeas corpus has been suspended and I'm being flogged repeatedly with the Yellow Pages L-Z in the basement of the local Police Station.
Tuesday, 12 August 2003
Great One-Hit Wonders
#4 - Tommy Tutone - 867-5309/Jenny (1981)
What an odd song this was. A tribute to those phone numbers you always see on bathroom walls purporting to be the personal line to a woman who'll shag you no matter how much of an idiot you appear to be. Of course these numbers are probably written by jilted lovers who take great delight in flooding their estranged partner with thousands of calls from horny men. Or so I've heard anyway. Of course in this song he's far too sensible to actually call the number and does something questionable with it instead ("I tried my imagination, but I was disturbed").
The band formed in 1978 and their first single "Angel Say No" scraped into the Top 40. The two follow-ups off their self-titled first album failed to crack the charts but the album sales were good enough to earn a support spot on the Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers tour. In 1981 this song, from the Album "Tommy Tutone 2" (imaginative!) became their biggest hit ever - reaching the Billboard Top 5 and propelling the album into the top 20.
The next single failed miserably, as did their album "National Emotion" which barely charted and led band leaders Tommy Heath and Jim Keller to disband the group. The name was back, however, in 1992 as an entirely Heath-driven project. The last album was 1998's "Tutone.rtf". Incidentally this contained the song "Jenny's Calling", as sequel of sorts to the big hit, about Jenny's daughter. Very mysterious.
In the interests of research I attached the standard Melbourne prefix of '9' to the start of this number and called it. It actually comes up (on my phone at least) as "Number not in use". There's a conspiracy in that if you look hard enough.
Where Are They Now? The frankly irritating Tutone official site has no news on a new album - but a tour dates section lets us know that as late as the 2nd of this month they played a show in Pensacola, Florida (at the Quiet Water Boardwalk Bushwhacker Festival no less) alongside fellow one-hit superstars "The Knack" - who we may get to eventually. Tutone lives! Even if the infamous phone number doesn't. Try it in your own area code - but don't mention me if you get done for nuisance calling.
What an odd song this was. A tribute to those phone numbers you always see on bathroom walls purporting to be the personal line to a woman who'll shag you no matter how much of an idiot you appear to be. Of course these numbers are probably written by jilted lovers who take great delight in flooding their estranged partner with thousands of calls from horny men. Or so I've heard anyway. Of course in this song he's far too sensible to actually call the number and does something questionable with it instead ("I tried my imagination, but I was disturbed").
The band formed in 1978 and their first single "Angel Say No" scraped into the Top 40. The two follow-ups off their self-titled first album failed to crack the charts but the album sales were good enough to earn a support spot on the Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers tour. In 1981 this song, from the Album "Tommy Tutone 2" (imaginative!) became their biggest hit ever - reaching the Billboard Top 5 and propelling the album into the top 20.
The next single failed miserably, as did their album "National Emotion" which barely charted and led band leaders Tommy Heath and Jim Keller to disband the group. The name was back, however, in 1992 as an entirely Heath-driven project. The last album was 1998's "Tutone.rtf". Incidentally this contained the song "Jenny's Calling", as sequel of sorts to the big hit, about Jenny's daughter. Very mysterious.
In the interests of research I attached the standard Melbourne prefix of '9' to the start of this number and called it. It actually comes up (on my phone at least) as "Number not in use". There's a conspiracy in that if you look hard enough.
Where Are They Now? The frankly irritating Tutone official site has no news on a new album - but a tour dates section lets us know that as late as the 2nd of this month they played a show in Pensacola, Florida (at the Quiet Water Boardwalk Bushwhacker Festival no less) alongside fellow one-hit superstars "The Knack" - who we may get to eventually. Tutone lives! Even if the infamous phone number doesn't. Try it in your own area code - but don't mention me if you get done for nuisance calling.
Community bloggage
Your topic for today is to discuss your most hated TV weatherman/woman, and why they rile you up so much. I care not that I'll have no idea who anyone from interstate who says anybody but Tim Bailey is talking about - irritating meteorologists are pretty much the same around the country. Post your submissions on your blog or in the comments.
Mine is Mike Larkham, who does his schtick on Channel 10 Melbourne's 5pm news. He should not, for legal reasons, be confused with Mark Larkham who's some kind of crappy racing car driver. Now, he does shonky live crosses from the most boring places imaginable (the beach? In summer? REVOLUTIONARY!) and tells gags that are so bad I presume they come straight out the "Skithouse" office in a box marked "even these are too unfunny for us".
I saw him in person once, delivering a live cross from the Melbourne Chocolate Expo (attention: no wonder I'm a fat bastard) and considered momentarily doing a run-through or yelling something out. I'd seen the time he tried to do a cross from outside the Casino and some kids jumped up in front of the camera and he had to restrain himself from smacking one of them in the head and dreamed of making a scene big enough to make it onto every "Aussie TV bloopers" show for the next 50 years. Then I realised that he was talking up the weather at 5:30, a good twenty minutes before it would go to air. They must do it on delay or something and his near backhander of a small child hadn't been enough to make them do a reshoot. The dream died.
Thank god for the return of "The Price is Right", because it gives me something other than this tosser to watch between Sport and the Simpsons.
Mine is Mike Larkham, who does his schtick on Channel 10 Melbourne's 5pm news. He should not, for legal reasons, be confused with Mark Larkham who's some kind of crappy racing car driver. Now, he does shonky live crosses from the most boring places imaginable (the beach? In summer? REVOLUTIONARY!) and tells gags that are so bad I presume they come straight out the "Skithouse" office in a box marked "even these are too unfunny for us".
I saw him in person once, delivering a live cross from the Melbourne Chocolate Expo (attention: no wonder I'm a fat bastard) and considered momentarily doing a run-through or yelling something out. I'd seen the time he tried to do a cross from outside the Casino and some kids jumped up in front of the camera and he had to restrain himself from smacking one of them in the head and dreamed of making a scene big enough to make it onto every "Aussie TV bloopers" show for the next 50 years. Then I realised that he was talking up the weather at 5:30, a good twenty minutes before it would go to air. They must do it on delay or something and his near backhander of a small child hadn't been enough to make them do a reshoot. The dream died.
Thank god for the return of "The Price is Right", because it gives me something other than this tosser to watch between Sport and the Simpsons.
Monday, 11 August 2003
Cheapest possible posting option alert
Because we've not done this for a while, and because I've nothing else to say it's time to go for a trip around the Wide World of Blog to see what's going on elsewhere.
85 George Street
But what do hallucinogenic mushrooms make you? What is the adjective to descibe it? We agree we are totally “belted”.
After Grog Blog
No amount of parental justification, quoth Daddy Porn-Bucks - "I'm very proud of her", will convince me that Morgan is being pedalled as anything other than a pre-teen wet-dream to sick fuckin' pervs.
Angela Bell
It seems the French have been upsetting some people for a long time.
Bailz
conspiracy, I think so
Bitchin' Monaro
Because you asked for it, more Sunny Leone (Adam sez: WHOOO!)
Bullet Holed Messenger
I decided to go anyway, which resulted in me ending up a room with about 50 extremely horny young women cracking gay jokes at the rate of about one per minute
Fare Evader
Of course, I wasn't featured much in the story, as I was the ditzy-sounding girl from Macrobertson whom they interviewed.
Funny Face
There was a moron family in there. There was a mum and a dad and a grandma and a little boy. The mum was the sick one. I don't understand why it had to be family outing to the medical center though.
Gareth Parker
WITH THE first Bali bomber's verdict handed down, it feels an appropriate time to revisit the story of one of the victims.
Good News Fresh
my brain is like a sponge, it takes in a lot of info
but to get anything out of it i need to squeeze so hard it hurts
Hot Buttered Death
A note to my vast (?) loyal (?) readership
Michael Jennings
I still haven't finished the post on coffee, so another short post on small ephemeral details of my life so I can say I posted something.
Mortigi Tempo
The yobbo's days are numbered
Rob Corr
It pulled the same stunt with the Yarra, which was flagged to the Bahamas and renamed the Stadacona, and the result was poor safety standards:
Sedgwick
Let's hope Warnie's brother is as good at spin as "lets your fingers do the talking" Shane.
Spin Starts Here
Most of them do it because they are absolute attention seeking MEDIA WHORES, not unlike your good self Ray.
Stews Blog
God hates nearly everyone
The Eye of the Beholder
UPDATE- It seems that Empress Rice has sorted out North Korea, but ex-President Bush is rallying support for his restoration.
Yobbo
I may still be blogging in the next few days, but it's a lot harder to think of stuff when you feel this shitty.
Zem
Mike Hawash has pleaded guilty to associating with terrorists. He was detained without charge as a material witness earlier this year, following his donation to a charity group that allegedly distributed funds to terrorist groups.
And finally,
the Random blog I clicked into off the Blogger homepage
what i'm doin here just fuckin nothin
everythin just fuckin in vain
FUCK YOU RICKO !!!!!
I'M FUCKIN HATE YOU !!!
what that you ever said just fuckin bullshit !!!!
why you go with that fuckin BITCH !!!!
FUCK YOU RICKO !!!!!
There's definately some issues there...
85 George Street
But what do hallucinogenic mushrooms make you? What is the adjective to descibe it? We agree we are totally “belted”.
After Grog Blog
No amount of parental justification, quoth Daddy Porn-Bucks - "I'm very proud of her", will convince me that Morgan is being pedalled as anything other than a pre-teen wet-dream to sick fuckin' pervs.
Angela Bell
It seems the French have been upsetting some people for a long time.
Bailz
conspiracy, I think so
Bitchin' Monaro
Because you asked for it, more Sunny Leone (Adam sez: WHOOO!)
Bullet Holed Messenger
I decided to go anyway, which resulted in me ending up a room with about 50 extremely horny young women cracking gay jokes at the rate of about one per minute
Fare Evader
Of course, I wasn't featured much in the story, as I was the ditzy-sounding girl from Macrobertson whom they interviewed.
Funny Face
There was a moron family in there. There was a mum and a dad and a grandma and a little boy. The mum was the sick one. I don't understand why it had to be family outing to the medical center though.
Gareth Parker
WITH THE first Bali bomber's verdict handed down, it feels an appropriate time to revisit the story of one of the victims.
Good News Fresh
my brain is like a sponge, it takes in a lot of info
but to get anything out of it i need to squeeze so hard it hurts
Hot Buttered Death
A note to my vast (?) loyal (?) readership
Michael Jennings
I still haven't finished the post on coffee, so another short post on small ephemeral details of my life so I can say I posted something.
Mortigi Tempo
The yobbo's days are numbered
Rob Corr
It pulled the same stunt with the Yarra, which was flagged to the Bahamas and renamed the Stadacona, and the result was poor safety standards:
Sedgwick
Let's hope Warnie's brother is as good at spin as "lets your fingers do the talking" Shane.
Spin Starts Here
Most of them do it because they are absolute attention seeking MEDIA WHORES, not unlike your good self Ray.
Stews Blog
God hates nearly everyone
The Eye of the Beholder
UPDATE- It seems that Empress Rice has sorted out North Korea, but ex-President Bush is rallying support for his restoration.
Yobbo
I may still be blogging in the next few days, but it's a lot harder to think of stuff when you feel this shitty.
Zem
Mike Hawash has pleaded guilty to associating with terrorists. He was detained without charge as a material witness earlier this year, following his donation to a charity group that allegedly distributed funds to terrorist groups.
And finally,
the Random blog I clicked into off the Blogger homepage
what i'm doin here just fuckin nothin
everythin just fuckin in vain
FUCK YOU RICKO !!!!!
I'M FUCKIN HATE YOU !!!
what that you ever said just fuckin bullshit !!!!
why you go with that fuckin BITCH !!!!
FUCK YOU RICKO !!!!!
There's definately some issues there...
Saturday, 9 August 2003
Punishment fits crime?
And what's all this I hear about Vanessa Amorosi recieving the death sentence? Sure, her career irritated us all and that bloody Shine song contained some of the most illogical lyrics in history but surely this is taking it a step too far.
Friday, 1 August 2003
Allen Jakovich Day 2003
A Western Australian who came to the club in 1991 from South Fremantle, via the SANFL's Woodville where he booted 101 goals in 1990, Jakovich was a member of the 1985 Western Australian Under-18's team that produced big names of the game like John Worsfold, Chris Lewis, Guy McKenna, Scott Watters, Chris Waterman, Paul Peos and Peter Sumich.
Selected at number 6 in the National Draft after his massive season in the SANFL, he failed to impress in pre-season games and was a part of the embarrassing 2.8.20 score against the Eagles in the first game of 1991. While he toiled in the reserves a young Darren Cuthbertson was running riot in the seniors, kicking seven goals against North Melbourne and Collingwood in consecutive weeks then five against the Bears. As Cuthbertson's star waned almost quickly as it had arrived Jakovich took over in amazing fashion.
His first career goal didn't come until Round 10 when he slotted one in a six goal loss to the Crows in Adelaide. The first big haul, and a sign of things to come, came when he slammed home eight in a big win against the Swans in Sydney. This was followed by six against West Coast, after which he had an ugly argument with John Worsfold (who wasn't even playing that day) in the player's race. Eight against St. Kilda and seven against Carlton followed quickly as his juggernaut rolled on.
Then, as the world began to wonder where this amazing talent had been hidden all season came highpoint of his career. On a typically cold August day at the MCG, in front of the rubble that eventually became the Great Southern Stand, he went ballistic and kicked an amazing 11.8 (and a couple out on the full) against North Melbourne. He had ten to three-quarter-time, including a bicycle kick that I still maintain is the greatest goal in AFL/VFL history and only inaccurate kicking stopped him from threatening Fred Fanning's record for goals in a game. Of course the focus passed back to somebody from a 'big' club when Peter Daicos kicked 13 against the Bears at Carrara hours later, including a miracle goal that could be considered the second best ever if you're feeling generous, but Jakovich had truly arrived.
The side eventually fell into fifth place thanks to a spate of injuries and faced Essendon in an Elimination Final at Waverley. After doing nothing in the first half Jako exploded, as would became his trademark, with seven in the second inspiring victory. A further four the next week against the Eagles couldn't inspire the boys to victory, and his first season in the big time had come to an end.
He booted a staggering 60 goals in the reserves and a further 71 in the seniors. It was a season the likes of which will never been again - and it was an exciting time to be a Melbourne fan. He also ran third in the best-and-fairest (behind Brownlow winner Stynes and Todd Viney) and represented Western Australia in the State-of-Origin. His final free-kick tally for the season of 5 for and 24 against was an example of the often undisciplined but always intense approach he took to every game.
Despite the side plumetting to seven wins and a draw Jakovich still starred (relatively speaking) in 1992. He was already starting to show some of the fitness problems that would eventually sink his career but despite this he managed to kick seven against Geelong in the first game of the year. He appeared to be playing a lone hand up front though as five against the Crows and four in the Queens Birthday game against Collingwood couldn't help the side avoid thrashings. He wasn't seen again, due to injury, until he bobbed up to boot four in a shock 49 point win against Adelaide in the return fixture at Football Park. Another second half explosion, this time against Collingwood in the last clash between the traditional rivals at Victoria Park, landed seven goals and a nine-point win but he was nothing more than a bit-part player for the rest of the season, one that started with promise but ultimately delivered a disappointing 13th place finish.
John Northey was replaced by Neil Balme before the 1993 season began but Jakovich's troubled hamstring let go during the first quarter of the opening game against Hawthorn and his season was immediately derailed. On return to the squad in Round 9 he famously kicked six goals and planted a kiss on his brother during a spiteful clash against the Eagles at the MCG.
Against one of his favourite opponents Collingwood he racked up nine huge goals, and followed that with eight against the Bombers in a 34 point victory. He then went missing again until one of the greatest games in history (sez me anyway) when he and Andy Lovell teamed up to kick eight goals apiece in a 121 point slaughter of Richmond. Incidentally I was shat on by a bird in the bottom deck of the sadly departed Ponsford Stand that day, starting a trend which continues to this day. However, despite this highlight (the game, not the bird) it was another season with no September action. 10th place was an improvement on the year before, but still a disappointment.
His final year at Melbourne started promisingly, 23 goals in the first five rounds (including eight against the Cats in the first round and a staggeringly inaccurate 4 goals 10 behinds in a win against Hawthorn at Waverley) saw him atop the league goalkicking. Hauls of five against Fitzroy and Sydney were the peak of his achievements until Round 17 when, in his last game he slammed home 8.1 in another win over the Hawks at Princes Park. This was to be his last game for the club, as a bulging disc in his back forced him out of action indefinately. He made sure it was a memorable one, not only landing a haul of goals but being fined $2000 for abusing an umpire as well. In his abscence Gary Lyon and a young pair of David's (Schwarz and Neitz) took over up front and led the team all the way to a Preliminary Final.
Jakovich was delisted at the end of the season when it looked as if his chronic back injuries would force him out of the game for good. His 47 games for the club produced 201 goals (4.27 per game), leaving him ranked still as the 20th greatest goalkicker in club history.
Footscray shocked the footballing world by drafting the clearly unfit, and now almost entirely unmotivated forward before the 1996 season but his seven games for the Bulldogs yielded just 7.14 and he was delisted, playing a final game against Carlton in Round 21 - finishing with a goal from his only kick.
In the years after his 'retirement' rumors about his business dealings were the talk of the town all over Melbourne. He was presumed to be either in hiding from debtors or even dead - a rumor that was only quashed once and for all when he made a shock appearance opening the Footy Show one night, back when it was good. For the record I was so shocked at the reappearance of the footballing equivalent of Jesus Christ I literally jumped over the back of my couch.
In the years since he burst onto the scene a hundred different footballers have been labelled "the new Jakovich" (by me), but none of them have ever reached the same heights. Everybody from Adrian McAdam to Brendan Fevola via Jeff Farmer and about 3000 different 'flash in the pan' players has worn the tag without success. Nobody can ever be in the same elite company.
What is he doing now? I've got no idea. This blog has readers in at least four different states so somebody must have heard something. Either let me know in the comments or e-mail me if it's more explosive, conspiracy theory related news.
Selected at number 6 in the National Draft after his massive season in the SANFL, he failed to impress in pre-season games and was a part of the embarrassing 2.8.20 score against the Eagles in the first game of 1991. While he toiled in the reserves a young Darren Cuthbertson was running riot in the seniors, kicking seven goals against North Melbourne and Collingwood in consecutive weeks then five against the Bears. As Cuthbertson's star waned almost quickly as it had arrived Jakovich took over in amazing fashion.
His first career goal didn't come until Round 10 when he slotted one in a six goal loss to the Crows in Adelaide. The first big haul, and a sign of things to come, came when he slammed home eight in a big win against the Swans in Sydney. This was followed by six against West Coast, after which he had an ugly argument with John Worsfold (who wasn't even playing that day) in the player's race. Eight against St. Kilda and seven against Carlton followed quickly as his juggernaut rolled on.
Then, as the world began to wonder where this amazing talent had been hidden all season came highpoint of his career. On a typically cold August day at the MCG, in front of the rubble that eventually became the Great Southern Stand, he went ballistic and kicked an amazing 11.8 (and a couple out on the full) against North Melbourne. He had ten to three-quarter-time, including a bicycle kick that I still maintain is the greatest goal in AFL/VFL history and only inaccurate kicking stopped him from threatening Fred Fanning's record for goals in a game. Of course the focus passed back to somebody from a 'big' club when Peter Daicos kicked 13 against the Bears at Carrara hours later, including a miracle goal that could be considered the second best ever if you're feeling generous, but Jakovich had truly arrived.
The side eventually fell into fifth place thanks to a spate of injuries and faced Essendon in an Elimination Final at Waverley. After doing nothing in the first half Jako exploded, as would became his trademark, with seven in the second inspiring victory. A further four the next week against the Eagles couldn't inspire the boys to victory, and his first season in the big time had come to an end.
He booted a staggering 60 goals in the reserves and a further 71 in the seniors. It was a season the likes of which will never been again - and it was an exciting time to be a Melbourne fan. He also ran third in the best-and-fairest (behind Brownlow winner Stynes and Todd Viney) and represented Western Australia in the State-of-Origin. His final free-kick tally for the season of 5 for and 24 against was an example of the often undisciplined but always intense approach he took to every game.
Despite the side plumetting to seven wins and a draw Jakovich still starred (relatively speaking) in 1992. He was already starting to show some of the fitness problems that would eventually sink his career but despite this he managed to kick seven against Geelong in the first game of the year. He appeared to be playing a lone hand up front though as five against the Crows and four in the Queens Birthday game against Collingwood couldn't help the side avoid thrashings. He wasn't seen again, due to injury, until he bobbed up to boot four in a shock 49 point win against Adelaide in the return fixture at Football Park. Another second half explosion, this time against Collingwood in the last clash between the traditional rivals at Victoria Park, landed seven goals and a nine-point win but he was nothing more than a bit-part player for the rest of the season, one that started with promise but ultimately delivered a disappointing 13th place finish.
John Northey was replaced by Neil Balme before the 1993 season began but Jakovich's troubled hamstring let go during the first quarter of the opening game against Hawthorn and his season was immediately derailed. On return to the squad in Round 9 he famously kicked six goals and planted a kiss on his brother during a spiteful clash against the Eagles at the MCG.
Against one of his favourite opponents Collingwood he racked up nine huge goals, and followed that with eight against the Bombers in a 34 point victory. He then went missing again until one of the greatest games in history (sez me anyway) when he and Andy Lovell teamed up to kick eight goals apiece in a 121 point slaughter of Richmond. Incidentally I was shat on by a bird in the bottom deck of the sadly departed Ponsford Stand that day, starting a trend which continues to this day. However, despite this highlight (the game, not the bird) it was another season with no September action. 10th place was an improvement on the year before, but still a disappointment.
His final year at Melbourne started promisingly, 23 goals in the first five rounds (including eight against the Cats in the first round and a staggeringly inaccurate 4 goals 10 behinds in a win against Hawthorn at Waverley) saw him atop the league goalkicking. Hauls of five against Fitzroy and Sydney were the peak of his achievements until Round 17 when, in his last game he slammed home 8.1 in another win over the Hawks at Princes Park. This was to be his last game for the club, as a bulging disc in his back forced him out of action indefinately. He made sure it was a memorable one, not only landing a haul of goals but being fined $2000 for abusing an umpire as well. In his abscence Gary Lyon and a young pair of David's (Schwarz and Neitz) took over up front and led the team all the way to a Preliminary Final.
Jakovich was delisted at the end of the season when it looked as if his chronic back injuries would force him out of the game for good. His 47 games for the club produced 201 goals (4.27 per game), leaving him ranked still as the 20th greatest goalkicker in club history.
Footscray shocked the footballing world by drafting the clearly unfit, and now almost entirely unmotivated forward before the 1996 season but his seven games for the Bulldogs yielded just 7.14 and he was delisted, playing a final game against Carlton in Round 21 - finishing with a goal from his only kick.
In the years after his 'retirement' rumors about his business dealings were the talk of the town all over Melbourne. He was presumed to be either in hiding from debtors or even dead - a rumor that was only quashed once and for all when he made a shock appearance opening the Footy Show one night, back when it was good. For the record I was so shocked at the reappearance of the footballing equivalent of Jesus Christ I literally jumped over the back of my couch.
In the years since he burst onto the scene a hundred different footballers have been labelled "the new Jakovich" (by me), but none of them have ever reached the same heights. Everybody from Adrian McAdam to Brendan Fevola via Jeff Farmer and about 3000 different 'flash in the pan' players has worn the tag without success. Nobody can ever be in the same elite company.
What is he doing now? I've got no idea. This blog has readers in at least four different states so somebody must have heard something. Either let me know in the comments or e-mail me if it's more explosive, conspiracy theory related news.
Oh the humanity!
Melbourne who? I'm sure I watched some bunch of softcocks in red and blue jumpers running around Telstra Dome tonight, but it couldn't have been them could it? COULD IT? Oh crap, it was.
Anyway, let's discuss something far better - and that's what a complete debacle the organisational side of that stadium still is. The story goes a little something like this,
A workmate was supposed to score two free tickets to the Level 2 "posh people be here" section of the ground but when he got them one had inexplicably been allocated for the West Coast/St. Kilda game on Sunday. Despite that game being a far more attractive proposition from a footballing standpoint we weren't interested and wanted our "plebs be gone" seats nonetheless. Sadly our first attempted scam, trying to get through the computer-operated turnstiles with the dud ticket, failed - though it took the barrier jockey a good three minutes of staring at the ticket to realise it was for the wrong game. I bought the cheapest ticket possible and we moved inside the ground to do the numbers on our scam and come up with a new plan.
The second idea was for him to go in and throw the ticket down to me from the next level so I could go in as well, this naturally failed when we realised that I'd have to have some sort of hardcore ticket to get to the place where this could take place anyway.
One last option left - to just wave the tickets at the monkey on the door of the hardcore area and hope he doesn't bother to check which game the bottom one is for. It shouldn't have worked, of all the ideas we'd had it seemed to be the most far fetched, but acting on a tip-off from another colleague who claimed that if you "confuse them enough they'll let you through without checking what you're waving at them" we engaged Stadium Man in a lively debate about where exactly Aisle 37 was and waltzed in with the two tickets held together, cunningly disguising the true nature of the bottom one. Absolute fools. It would never work at a game with a decent crowd though, we had just over 20,000 at the game tonight and still had to change seat about four times before the match started.
We were quite happy about this, until the start of the third quarter when the red and blue ponces posing as Melbourne decided to spontaneously self-destruct and embarass everyone involved with the club. How dare they collapse in such a pissweak fashion on a day as sacred as Allen Jakovich day. Incidentally the Bulldogs paid fine tribute to their former superstar (*cough*) by kicking a pair of "goal of the year contenders". Glad to see somebody was having a go.
Anyway, let's discuss something far better - and that's what a complete debacle the organisational side of that stadium still is. The story goes a little something like this,
A workmate was supposed to score two free tickets to the Level 2 "posh people be here" section of the ground but when he got them one had inexplicably been allocated for the West Coast/St. Kilda game on Sunday. Despite that game being a far more attractive proposition from a footballing standpoint we weren't interested and wanted our "plebs be gone" seats nonetheless. Sadly our first attempted scam, trying to get through the computer-operated turnstiles with the dud ticket, failed - though it took the barrier jockey a good three minutes of staring at the ticket to realise it was for the wrong game. I bought the cheapest ticket possible and we moved inside the ground to do the numbers on our scam and come up with a new plan.
The second idea was for him to go in and throw the ticket down to me from the next level so I could go in as well, this naturally failed when we realised that I'd have to have some sort of hardcore ticket to get to the place where this could take place anyway.
One last option left - to just wave the tickets at the monkey on the door of the hardcore area and hope he doesn't bother to check which game the bottom one is for. It shouldn't have worked, of all the ideas we'd had it seemed to be the most far fetched, but acting on a tip-off from another colleague who claimed that if you "confuse them enough they'll let you through without checking what you're waving at them" we engaged Stadium Man in a lively debate about where exactly Aisle 37 was and waltzed in with the two tickets held together, cunningly disguising the true nature of the bottom one. Absolute fools. It would never work at a game with a decent crowd though, we had just over 20,000 at the game tonight and still had to change seat about four times before the match started.
We were quite happy about this, until the start of the third quarter when the red and blue ponces posing as Melbourne decided to spontaneously self-destruct and embarass everyone involved with the club. How dare they collapse in such a pissweak fashion on a day as sacred as Allen Jakovich day. Incidentally the Bulldogs paid fine tribute to their former superstar (*cough*) by kicking a pair of "goal of the year contenders". Glad to see somebody was having a go.
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