How long has it been since we did an “around the grounds” post? No really, I can’t be bothered looking it up. A while surely. Well given that since that point I’ve somewhat relaxed my nutty “no more than 20 at a time” blogroll laws and the list has exploded to an unprecedented 26 it’s time to highlight everyone’s most recent greatest hits in another TSP Wide World of Blog special. As usual feel free to read the pages in their entirety to see just how badly I’ve taken these comments out of context.
If you don’t want to know the score then look away now.
I saw two street boys attempting to pick women’s handbags in the market tonight and intrigued, I followed to watch. It wasn’t until one of them nearly succeeded that my sense of right and wrong kicked in and I yelled before I could stop myself.
After Grog Blog
As some kind of weird fiesta, Fox Classics showed Everybody Loves Raymond all through Australia Day. There are two things wrong with this, of course. One, it is American. Two, it is f**k!
One can’t help but think that the best course of action for these two Australians would be to convert to a fundamentalist form of religion and swear allegiance to a terrorist nutjob. If they did this they’d soon have an army of people rallying to their cause: children’s book authors, celebrity magistrates, AFI nominees, self appointed ‘community’ leaders, representatives of nearly extinct Christian sects, etcetera, etcetera.
Bullet Holed Messenger
I’m glad that monstrosity didn’t get any nods, because it didn’t deserve any. It wasn’t a particularly amazing film as far as films go and as a religious film it utterly stank. Mel Gibson deciding “Gee, you know if I portrayed Christ’s Passion as it was actually recorded in the Gospel, it won’t be anywhere near dramatic and bloody enough so I’ll just twist events and plain old make shit up and claim God told me to do it in a dream” doesn’t impress me at all.
Yeah, but more often than not you simply find yourself becoming friends with fellow bloggers and blog readers. The groupie element actually turns more into a roving mob thing, where your hardcore fanbase scour the blogosphere for anyone who might be slagging you off - they jump in there and defend you like crazy. It’s flattering, as are some of the offers that come your way. You know, the sort of offers that rock stars and sporting celebs would get. Flattering and a tad mind-boggling.
Desci - TSP’s Official Sex Blog
Oooh! And he’s all, inexperienced an’ stuff, so further down the track, I can be all, ‘well, since you haven’t played with many girls, you should do that. With me, together’ so I can seem all altruistic, AND get some titty action later on! Without having to cheat! Nice.
Do Not Use Lifts
For a number of reasons, I have three ‘phones each roughly equidistant from me in the infamous Telebermutions Triangle on this desk. Now, I hate ‘phones; face-to-face contact is great, email is okay, ‘phones suck. Simple as that. I want either the full sensory experience, or time to measure one’s response to try to avoid confusion; ‘phones give you too little to make up for not being able to see the other person.
I have a fetish for board games. I always have. Ask anyone who spends time at my house how many times they have had to endure a round of “game of life” or “trivial pursuit” or “monopoly” just to name a few. I have a vast collection, and have yet to”part with” any game I ever bought/recieved. (And yes, I even own the board game version of “where in the world is carmen sandiago?”)
Good News Fresh
Muffin pants are apparently the newest fashion craze, popularised on the ABC’s Kath and Kim program.
Hecho En Mexico
Lamul and I were at the bar, and I was buying him a drink - when the waitress quite professionally put two straws in each of our “Screwdrivers” - Lamul remarked in a non-intentional lispy voice, “Ooh! We got straws”. I saw the waitress make a fist, ready to punch him for being homophobic, so I quickly put my arm around his shoulder and led him off scalding him for the gross faux pas. She saw this act of man>man affection and let it be.
Hot Buttered Death
Blogger with best goth club dancing skills: Hot Buttered Death
Blogger with least developed sense of smell: Hot Buttered Death
Blogger most likely to scratch his/her arse: Hot Buttered Death
Blogger who most needs to go to bed before 3 a.m.: Hot Buttered Death
Special lifetime lack of achievement award: Hot Buttered Death
I went with my entire family, and we had the funnest day ever. We were in a mini-van with a cheery, camp Austrian tour-guide called Pieter and a bunch of overly-earnest Americans who couldn’t understand why we kept wetting ourselves with laughter. The only disappointment was not being allowed inside the gazebo from the ‘Sixteen going on Seventeen’ scene, because of insurance woes suffered by the company after an 80-year-old woman broke her hip trying to replicate the dance routine where Liesel leaps from bench-to-bench. True.
Land Down Under
would advise all of you that if you wish to do volunteer work any time in the near future, avoid places where you’ll be situated in a so-called “mailing room”, lest the same sort of doom that afflicted me this morning come over you. I spend a few hours this morning stuffing envelopes - a few hundred of the bastards - and all so that I can get out of paying exorbitant fees. It’s not fair, I tell you.
Using only trains, a few buses and my feet, I plan this Friday to go from Watergardens to Stony Point, from Hurstbridge to Werribee, and everywhere in between. I’ll start from Hurstbridge at 0433 and be back there little under 21 hours later, at 0113.
More Australian Ramblings
This is part of today’s editorial from the Herald Sun. Am I reading this right? Shouldn’t it say “the wog bastard can rot in Cuba, bloody terrorist”? This is weird. Like when they wrote “A Government that stands by its actions should feel comfortable having them scrutinised in the harsh glare of daylight” about the deportation of the Bakhtiyaris.
New York, London, Paris, Munich
I’ve called this particular rhetorical move a ‘Gloria’ after its most common manifestation. “Tainted Love? (pause) Of course the Gloria Jones version is better.” Here’s how this will work - we will post a Gloria and allow a dignified day or so for comments before the Freaky Trigger Science Factopinion is deployed to answer it. I reckon Glorias are about half correct, but we’ll see. Of course at some point we’ll consider the real actual original Gloria, but for now let us begin with this:
“99 Red Balloons? The German original is much better.”
Happy Australia Day readers! I ditched the politics on either side for this one; it was just too hot in Melbourne to watch jingoistic parades or angry indigenous rock bands.
And I was hungover from the night before, where I drank pints of Magnificent Mountain Goat and played a song I wrote a couple of weeks ago to a rapturous crowd of 14 at the Wesley Anne open-mike night.
One Dog Said To The Other
We filmed up at the Police Academy in Joondalup, in a delightful little pretend-town they call the Strategic Village, where we improvised an emergency scenario involving a transformer that’d blown up or something, and which was translated visually into smoke pouring out of a High Voltage room. It turns out everything in the Strategic Village - the Chicken Treat, the Guardian Pharmacy, the Shell station - is fake except for the High Voltage Room, and assorted safety officers and management types had to stand around making sure we observed all the safety protoccols.
Piss ‘n Vinegar
Egads, who rigged the vote? After only three months in the backwaters of the blogosphere, this little site was voted Best Tasmanian Blog, an honour which really isn’t deserved.
Red Interior’s Swade (who I was sure would have won, and is runner-up) reckons he’ll be looking for personalised plates and honking horns scooting around the bustling streets of Slowbart, so just to let you know, PSSANT shall be on the Mercedes, and VINEGR will be gracing the Aston-Martin.
Both the Police Minister and her Shadow say they don’t support a police decision to allow bikies riding in a funeral procession to do so without helmets. This is a big fuss over nothing. The bikies applied for a permit in accordance with the relevant legislation, and their request was granted. Who cares?
There Ain’t No Sanity Clause
“Well, what we’ve seen is a series of articles and discussions of recent times which would suggest there are no senior women in the Labor Party - there is, her name’s … Dammit, it’s right on the tip of my tongue. She’s the deputy leader bloke, you know, er ummm … she’s that short mousy sheila what sits behind the Leader of the Opposition in the House. Jessy … Joyce … Je… Bugger it, I know I was introduced to her once. I’m just shit with names. C’mon fellas work with me. Oh, stuff it, you all know who I’m talking about.” Mr Albanese said before being dragged off by several of members of the totally united ALP caucus for a short sharp cold shower.
I currently have 2 love interests. The amazing John Zoidberg, and Orrin, a Knight from HOMM3. Orrin gains a 5% per level bonus on his Archery skill, and has a MOUSTACHE. Isn’t he damn sexy? If either of these two men crawl into my bed at night and start talking about hot naked adventures, I will be one happy lady. Sigh.
Spin Starts Here
So that issue we had last week that I promised we would never mention again? I’m going to break the silence on this momentarily, because I cannot get past the daft article regarding the subject that appeared in a dodgy UK tabloid. However, we shan’t mention the incident directly or the persons involved. You fill in the blanks.
On that point, it should be pointed out that the West Indies, in their glory days, had a rule that you had to play for your Island side if you wanted to be part of the Test team. So it didn’t matter that the teams only played five games a season- they were very high class games. I wonder if Australia will pay a price in the long run for keeping the Test stars out of their state teams.
Wild Young Under Whimsy
Then it came to me in a flash what had happened. You see, when I was living on Flemington Rd last year, a car whose license plate started with NWA had rammed the front of my car while retardedly attempting to parallel park. I worked this out thanks to my many years of Law & Order watching, because the burgundy paint embedded in my front bumper matched the scrape of missing burgundy paint on the back bumper of the car. This car had left my front licence plate dangling by one screw, so I tucked a passive-aggressive note under Eazy E’s windscreen (”Please do not ram my car. I do not earn very much money and cannot afford to repair it.”).
However, one of the few remaining senators from the Australian Democrats - Andrew Bartlett - has joined in the debate on PETA’s side. Since I voted Democrat in both the upper and lower houses in the last federal election, I feel that I have a right of reply - especially since I’m about the only person in Australia who actually did vote for them.
And on that note, as the only other person in the world to vote for them this is Adam 1.0 signing off. Meanwhile if you want to be on the TSP blogroll and take advantage of our massive traffic - that has, for some reason, tripled in the last two weeks then I’m going to need to see money.