Clock Changing

Daylight Savings kicks in this Sunday for those of us in Victoria, SA, Tassie and the ACT. It's a month earlier than normal for us Victorians.

I have three things to say.

1. I reckon it's too early. It's still a bit cold. The extra hour of sunlight after work doesn't really mean much because we're not likely to be sitting on our back patios with a mojito anyway.

2. Why is it plural? Shouldn't it be Daylight Saving? Because there's only one saving per day. Or are they suggesting because it's multiple days, it's more than one saving? No, I think it's just one saving. Further, it's not really saved at all because we lose an hour of it in the morning. It's not 'shifting' either because the rotation of the Earth is a constant (despite what the Adventists tell us). I think it should be called (in the singular) Clock Changing.

3. Queensland, who refuse to accept Clock Changing, need to man the fuck up. Seriously, it's the stupidity, not the heat. Queensland's stupid stupidity fucks us all up. It makes radio announcements take too long ("...and that can be heard at 7pm tonight on the ABC, 6pm in Queensland, 4pm in Perth etc etc") and in a work sense, it stuffs up phone call times and it just fucking shits me. Put your clocks forward like the rest of us you Bjelke-Petersen and Hanson-voting redneck cunts! And while you're at it, here... take Powderfinger back. We don't want them.

Fuck I Hate Hawthorn

In shock news over the weekend, Geelong Football Club lost their first match in living history. The fact that the match was the AFL Grand Final and the club was an unbackable favourite to win has sent shockwaves through Australia’s bogan hub, the greater township of Geelong.

“Who’d have thunk it?” said Geelong’s normally unflappable coach, Bomber Thompson. “We’d already planned the next four months of celebrations, including a 7-day continuous tickertape parade up and down Malop Street. Frank Costa had already paid for the 20m high Bronze Replica of the Premiership Cup which was commissioned to stand proudly beside Smorgy’s at the waterfront.”

It has been reported that as many as twelve players had already got their bums tattoo’d with a cartoon cat and the words ‘2008 Premiers’ in the week leading up to the match. “We figured there’d be a long waiting list at the tattooist after the match,” said player representative, the now-to-be-much-maligned Paul Chapman, “It made sense to beat the rush and get the tat last week.”

Reports have been sifting out of the Cattery that the team had employed local champion Craig ‘Buster’ Mottram’s unique Olympic preparation system in the week leading up to the match.

“Look, we thought Buster’s sensible tactic of, “I’ll probably win so there’s no point trying very hard” was wise and sassy,” said Bomber Thompson. “The fact that Hawthorn came out and actively competed for the ball and employed, you know, tactics, took me and the assistant coaches by complete surprise. At one point in the third quarter, we even had to stop eating lunch, put our champagne glasses down and return to the coaches box.” When asked why the coaching staff failed to change the game plan when it became clear they were losing grip on the match, Bomber responded, “There’s more than one game plan?”

Authorities responsible for sending urgent supplies of Psychological Counselors to Geelong have reported that depression levels have hit global highs. “Yeah, it’s about 75% of the population,” said Dr. Upyerarsz, “And they have all been put on Disability Pensions. It’s amazing what a shock loss can do to a town. Last week, only 71% of the town was on some sort of welfare payment, and that 4% spike is a direct result of their terrible loss.”

Donations of Winfield Blues, Bundy & Coke Cans, and copies of Cold Chisels Greatest Hits may be dropped off at local Salvation Army Centres across the country.

UPDATE

Reports that Cam Mooney, Brad Ottens and Travis Varcoe have had their feet amputated by bloodthirsty fans are thus far unsubstantiated.

Unpopular Science Magazine.

In this month’s edition.

* Genetically modified food? I can’t wait!!

* MMR vaccine – it’s perfectly safe, for fuck’s sake. Just get over it.

* Top chiefs in our blind taste test. This month – organic lamb vs. a block of wood.

* Special sealed section. Dr Ben Goldacre as you’ve never seen him before

* God interview; “Intelligent Design my holy bollocks. I just made stuff up”.

Plus.

Your stars. Proxima Centauri or C-146; which is hawter?

The big questions- Women's Weekly

I was flicking through a copy of Woman’s Weekly at lunch today, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the people responsible for writing up the articles. When they were young and idealistic, dreaming of breaking that one big story and the riches of journalistic integrity, did they think they would have to churn out crud such as “Prince Frederick and Mary, A Love Story”? Or “Olivia’s Love Match in Peru”? While I am sure most people are there just to pay the mortgage, am I being elitist and looking down on a job that makes a certain person happy?

As people enjoy reading this vapid shit I guess there must be people who enjoy writing it too.

But who?

Oh Mickey You So Fine

"...but there was no room for an abortion clinic at the Inn."


Abortion is a hot topic, as is religious expression, and when the two come together the emotions run wild, tempers flare and much saliva is spilled.

The Catholic Church is one of the great modernising religions. They were one of the first to accept evolution as fact, for instance, and they actively preach in their St. Whatevers to their flock to not read the Bible, and instead rely on sermons in the church on Sundays for their Biblical studies (which, by the way, was one of the reasons for the Reformation, because those uppity Protestants wanted to be able to read the Bible for themselves).

But in the case of divorces, condoms and abortions, the Catholics cling to their long-held doctrines with sticky papal hands.

Currently, in Victoria, there is a Bill before Parliament that will ease even further the state's abortion laws, and one of the points of the Bill will require hospitals to give automatic abortion referrals to women seeking such.

Problem is of course, the Catholic Church owns and operates six of the major hospitals, and in today's Age, Archbishop Denis Hart has come out and threatened the state with closure of every one of these hospitals should the Bill pass through parliament.

Drawing a bow as long as Flemington's 'straight six', Archbishop Hart claims the new laws, "makes a mockery of the Victorian Charter of Human Rights and the Equal Opportunity Act."

Hmm, I would have thought the very opposite is true.

I would have thought that writing a referral for a woman seeking an abortion is the very essence of Human Rights.

But, in the Catholic Church's defence, they are a religious organisation and they have a right to run their religion as they see fit so long as they adhere to the laws of the state. As such, they have a further right to lobby the state and influence what these laws are.

But threatening to close necessary and exemplary hospitals smacks of a petulant boy grabbing his bat and ball and storming home because he's not winning the cricket match. Surely, they could make a referral and then maybe chuck in a Bible passage or somesuch stapled to the back.

For my own part, I don't like abortion when it's a form of 'oops, I was too drunk to get out a dinger*' contraception. God knows, if I got a chick up the duff I'd do everything in my power to convince her to give life to my Greek-Godly seed, but I still think it's an inalienable human right of women and that the Micky Finns need to learn to get their collective Mary-worshipping heads around it.



*Dinger: I haven't used that word in YEARS.




ADDENDUM:

I just read the article closer. he's not threatening to close down the whole hospitals, just the Emergency Deaprtment and the Maternity Wards... which is what these hospitals are renowned for.

I understand there's a football match this Saturday.

I realise, as TSFKA’s resident football tragic, the honour of writing about this Saturday’s coming AFL Grand Final should really go to Perseus – but I got in first so nyer, nyer.

I haven’t followed football for nearly 20 years now and I only attended a local match recently so The Boy could watch, but in my youth I was a mad Essendon supporter.

Saw just about every match with my dad and brother (Hawthorn), collected players’ autographs, knew all about the club’s heroes (Coleman). Then, for some reason (linked I suspect to my discovery of girls and Marx), I lost all interest. Went absolutely cold turkey and I haven’t cared since.

Which is not to say I underestimate the importance of footy in Melbourne.

Football was instrumental to the formation of class and culture, especially in inner-suburban Melbourne. Working class suburbs like Collingwood, Richmond and Fitzroy drew part of their identity from the performance of their team and any match against clubs from better-off areas (Melbourne) was always tinged with an element of class war.

Funnily enough, this feeling has never quite died. After the 2005 Grand Final, when West Coast lost to Sydney, I saw a house in St Kilda displaying this sign.

Hey yuppies. You can buy our houses but your team still can’t play football.

Football and politics was always linked, especially in Collingwood and many of those prominent in the local ALP and unions were also prominent in the local club, most notably John Wren.

Many writers (David Williamson) and academics (Ian Turner) have also written well and meaningfully about the game.

And yet, despite my lack of interest, I’ll still watch some of the match on the telly, between barbecuing dead animals and drinking beer on Saturday.

Some things never leave you.

Language Is Dead

I own my own business. I have one full-time employee, one permanent part-time employee (accounts, because I'm spastic at them), and a few casuals.

My business plan is all of two words: "Wing it." (That also doubles up as my company Vision Statement, and I'm thinking of using it as a slogan, you know, like, "Perseus Enterprises: Winging it since 1999"

But every now and then I think to myself, "Maybe I should expand, or at least try to. Maybe I should make a real business plan, or improve my 'systems' or whatever."

So anyways, I got this brochure in the mail asking me if my 'business processes flow smoothly', and if not, this company called Business Process Management (BPM) can sell me products that will help me to deliver 'efficient, reliable and competitive processes'. They have a seminar coming up too!

Being that I don't have an actual process, I decided to read the brochure.

They open with, "It's not just you - it really is getting harder to outplace the other guys".

Well, that doesn't help, because I know the 'other guys' and we all get along and I have no desire to 'outplace' them. In fact, we spend a fair bit of time passing work to one another.

They then tell me that BPM is, "one of the most valuable IT investments an organisation can make," and further, "...BPM provides the glue between your people and the disparate software applications that operate across your departments"

Like, umm, Microsoft Word?

They then serve me a quote from the Harvard Business Review... "In this competitive environment the mantra for any CEO should be 'Deploy, Innovate and Propagate'"

What, are they Daleks?

Next up is this ripper: "BPM helps achieve your business objectives by providing a consistent process layer across the organisation and embedding best practice".

By now I'm halfway through the brochure, and I still have no idea what this company actually does. Do they sell laptops?

They then promise to 'enable' a whole range of things for me, including a, "greater agility to react to business changes".

Now they move on to why I should come to their seminar (and by this stage, I was ready to sign up purely to find out who wrote this brochure so I could punch him in the fucking face).

The seminar promises to "...introduce (me) to the FLOWCENTRIC Business Process Managament suite."

Right, now they're starting to sound like Scientologists.

"Any time your business processes don't fit entirely within core enterprise applications, the answer may be BPM"

What the shite is a 'core enterprise application'?

BPM may very well be the answer, but I don't even fucking know what the question is!

They finish off by mentioning they've been in business for 18 years, and that seating is 'strictly limited' at the seminar.

Look BPM, I'd love to come to your seminar, but unfortunately my hair can't wash itself.

What really fucking kills me is that some cunt with a Communications or Marketing degree, or maybe even an MBA for good measure, wrote this impenetrable gobbledygook and no doubt got paid big bucks for it, and yet here I am, a potential customer, hating them because I was forced to read their rubbish and still have no fucking idea what they actually DO.

It is the death of language.

Vale, English.

What, petering out already?

Former Federal treasurer Peter Costello embarks on "Plan B"

Our old friend and twisted owl fancier, Christian Kerr, reports sales of the Costello memoirs have been a bit on the…err…sluggish side.

Mr Kerr writes:

JUST three days after it went on sale, copies of The Costello Memoirs have been dumped in the bargain bins.

Staff at the Paperchain Bookstore in Manuka, the closest bookshop to Parliament House, reported "pretty decent" sales yesterday at the full price of $54.99. But at the Borders in the Canberra Centre shopping mall, The Costello Memoirs had already been discounted down to $34.95 and the book was available at the Big W in the same complex for the bargain basement price of just $32.95.

Oh dear.

This does not bode well for Louise Adler over at Melbourne University Press.

She convinced the board to shell out a motzer when political memoirs from the Tories have never done that well in Australia. Big, big mistake.

By-the-by, anybody here planning to fork out for 400 pages of self-serving dribble from the Hamlet of Higgins?

Perseus – you’re the resident bibliophile; take one for the team comrade.

I'm an American! I'm an American too!

In today's Age, Catherine Deveny has written a piece about Sarah Palin.

I smirked at this:

"No political party in the world would have had the genius to dream up Sarah Palin. She's a social experiment with lipstick."

I wryly grinned at this:

"The running mates look like an old rich bloke with erectile dysfunction and his white trash trophy wife wearing glasses so she looks intellectual and that."

But I furrowed my brow at this:

"...the rest of the world should be able to vote in the US elections because the outcome affects us as much as them. If not more."

Is that a joke, or is she serious? I know she's a comedy writer and all (a fact she mentions in the article, and I know that she has been responsible in the past for those lame jokes that overseas TV celebrities read from cue cards at The Logies), but in the context of the article, I have a feeling that where there's smoke there's fire, and she, in a way, believes it.

It is true to say that the result of the Presidential election will affect Australia, but so does the result of elections in Georgia, South Africa, the Solomon Islands and Luxembourg.

Too many people attribute too much influence to the US on our daily lives. The US economy, its businesses, its trade, its TV shows and music... all of it permeates into Australian (and global) infrastructures but ultimately, it affects one randomly plucked 15 y.o checkout chick from Nebraska profoundly more than any of 21,000,000 Australians.

It's like that old cartoon with the two Jewish blokes sitting around Berlin in 1938 reading newspapers. One says, "I'm reading the Guardian from England. Oh, it's all terrible news. Us Jews are being rounded up and put into ghettoes and being treated horribly." The other one says, "Well I'm reading the Nazi newspaper and it's all terrific news. It says that us Jews have all the money and dominate the world!"

Many Australians, particularly the loony left (hello Socialiast Alliance!) attribute EVERYTHING to so-called US Imperialism... from wars to education to religion to culture to arts. They cannot perceive that our own Government, our own opposition, the UN, every other Government on Earth, NATO and a zillion other organisations around the world are all a part of the global experience. It's not just America!

If the Americans vote in McCain and thus inherit a moron for a Vice-President who is just a clogged artery away from being President herself, that's about 95% an American burden to carry, and about 5% the rest of the world's.

Ramon's 30-second guide to Federal politics

Ahead of the leadership biffo in the Federal Liberal Party.

1. "Half" Nelson squeaks back.

2. "Half" continues to tank in the polls.

3. Six months later the Libs, mad with despair and rage, elect Turnbull. Dennis proclaims "Liberal victory is just around the corner".

4. Kruddy goes late in 2009 and is rewarded with an increased majority, with the Greens holding the balance of power in the Senate.

5. Dennis spends the next three years, warning of a "Labor-Green Alliance" until his brain explodes.

6. Nation rejoices, declares Kruddy "President for Life".

OK, so I'm not so sure about the last bit.

UPDATE.

It's Turnbull - 45 to 41.

Dennis preparing tomorrow's lead

"In a bold move that has put the party back on the road to victory, etc, etc, etc"

Huzzah for science!

The excellent Ben Goldacre reports in the UK Guardian that charlatan and fraud Matthias Rath has withdrawn his libel action against the paper.

The paper reports elsewhere

Matthias Rath, the vitamin campaigner accused of endangering thousands of lives in South Africa by promoting his pills while denouncing conventional medicines as toxic and dangerous, has dropped a year-long libel action against the Guardian and been ordered to pay costs.

Rath sued over three Guardian articles that condemned his promotional activities among Aids sufferers in South African townships.

Good.

Rath is free, of course, to peddle his nonsense. What he isn't entitled to do is put the lives of thousands of people at risk.

It’s simple people, there is no such thing as “alternative medicine”; if something works, it’s medicine, if it doesn’t then it isn’t medicine.

Intelligent design, homeopathy, anti-fluoride, herbalism; it’s all bunkum, hogwash, nonsense.

I recall a conversation I had with an “alternative medicine” type. She was banging on and on about how her remedies were “”natural”. I pointed out that syphilis and typhoid were natural as well but I didn’t see her volunteering to take them. I then requested that she go away or I would stab her.

Dr Goldacre has a blog, Bad Science. Read it.

It's National Costello Week

It was in 1985 I first read 1984. I became an Orwell fan immediately. In the same year discovered in a friend’s older brother’s record collection a single called ‘Nick The Stripper’ by The Birthday Party, and a week later, on the Channel 0 music show ‘Rock Arena’ discovered the Jesus and Mary Chain. Within weeks I had gone from stretch jeans and V-necks to apprentice goth clutching my Emily Dickinson poems, quoting Orwell and chasing any girl in smudged mascara I could find.

I was in Year 11 at Generic High in Melbourne’s eastern suburbs, and, when we had to do our two weeks of work experience, I ended up at Channel 9.

On day 1 I went out with a news crew and interviewed some doctor bloke about this new fangled thing AIDS.

On day 2, I was sent out with a news team to interview a man called Stauder, a former VFL footballer (St. Kilda reserves) and owner of a small confectionary company called Dollar Sweets who were facing union pressure by his employees, and had suffered a protracted series of strikes and pickets.

I didn’t really understand the significance of it at the time, but one of the network bosses, back in the news room, muttered something about how, ‘even Hawkey’s got no time for this union.”

I followed the case for the next few years and it was of course the event that brought two young smarmy knob lawyers to the nation’s attention – Michael Kroger and Peter Costello. The case is still talked about as the one that signalled the end of union-dominated workplaces, and all under the watchful eye of the Hawke Government, lead, obviously, by our most famous and accomplished unionist.

Both my Dad and paternal grandfather were old-school unionist lefties (granddad was in the Communist Party and liked to read Lenin on his lunchbreak in the back of the hardware where he worked all his life, then would go home to his housing commission flat in Ascot Vale and watch sport), and I remember them totally ignoring everything Hawke was doing at the time.

“Dad, Hawkey’s on Rupert Murdoch’s yacht eating caviar!”

“He knows what he’s doing, son. Good old Hawkey. He’ll be ripping into Rupert!”

(He was not)

In hindsight, Hawke and in turn Keating were modernising the country, but in doing so, forever blurred the lines between Liberal and Labor policy. Oh, I know, there’s noted differences, but it’s not like the good old days. Costello himself, as Bob Ellis often makes mention of, was courted by both parties after his Dollar Sweets performance, but just imagine if Costello had woken up and decided, “I’ll go ALP”. I put it to you that ‘Labor fundies’ (as Squib put it) like my dad and Ramon, may, just may have had a different opinion of the man.

As Orwell says: "In our age there is no such thing as 'keeping out of politics.' All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred and schizophrenia."

It doesn't matter any more where Costello went.

He's been around a long time this Costellopto fellow. He's part of the nation's furniture. I've never had much time for him. But, now that he's harmless, I don't mind him popping up every now and then and talking shit.

I think I'd like to see him and Keating host their own TV show or something, just for a bit of pre-1985 good old days debate.

Who gives a fat rat's.

I promise, this will be the last time I’m going to write about this cunt.

The Smage is running big with their “exclusive” story that Peter Costello A) thought he could have won the last Federal election and B) won’t be challenging for the Liberal Party leadership.

Well, whoop-de-whoop.

I told you lot weeks ago that Costello won’t challenge, so why this is suddenly news is beyond me.

Actually, I do know why Fairfax management is treating it as news. They forked out a shitload of dosh for this “exclusive” and they’re desperate to recoup some of that by beating up a non-story. It’s just a shame they had to drag in the two Age journos I still have some respect for, Michelle Grattan and Shaun Carney.

As for Pete “I coulda won it” Costello, my response can be summed up as “fuckin bullshit”.

Pete, old buddy, you were a senior member of a government that was seriously on the nose with the punters*. To imagine that you could win over the Australian electorate when you couldn’t even convince your own party colleagues to back you is laughable.

I also think Fairfax and the book’s publishers, Melbourne University Press, have seriously fucked up their own product. By running endless pieces for weeks about “Peter Costello’s tell-all memoirs” means nobody gives a shit about “Peter Costello’s tell-all memoirs”.

I’m a sad political junkie but if you think I’m going to wade through 400 plus pages of sanctimonious, self-justifying nonsense and dull political tittle-tattle- then you’ve owls in your belfry.

*Sorry Desci.

What's so bad about the Greens?

For some reason, I know more about US politics than I do about Australian politics. Probably because I find the candidates in the current US election fascinating, and the reactions from the media and citizens very puzzling at times, so it keeps my attention.

I have noted a lot of bagging of the Greens on this site and its previous incarnations, and I am somewhat confused. Why are they so bad? A lot of their policies seem perfectly reasonable to me (quotes taken from their website):

- On same-sex relationships: remove discrimination on the basis of sexuality or gender identity from legislation; support equal and legal recognition of gay marriages; promote equal parenting rights regardless of sexuality or gender identity; allow people to make fully informed choices about their lives and access appropriate medical intervention if required.

- On education: increase funding for all levels of public education, including TAFE and university; fund at least two years of public preschool education for all Australian children; abolish university fees and forgive HECS debts; provide a living allowance for full-time tertiary students.

- On health: redirect the $3 billion private health insurance rebate to public health and hospitals; establish 24 hour community mental health services; ban junk food advertising on children’s television; protect women’s access to affordable, safe abortion and reproductive health services including genuine pregnancy counselling.

- On workplaces: repeal the federal WorkChoices legislation in its entirety; abolish Australian Workplace Agreements and guarantee the right to collectively bargain; establish a strong expanded safety net of minimum conditions, and restore the award system; provide universal access to unfair dismissal laws; return conciliation and arbitration powers (including setting minimum wages) to the independent Australian Industrial Relations Commission; protect the rights of employees to take industrial action and protect legitimate union activity

And various other seemingly sensible policies on climate change, transport, immigration, environment, etc.

I do disagree with some of their policies, but overall I think they seem ok. So why the hate? As I said, I know very little about Australian politics, so perhaps I've missed something.

For the record, I think I've only voted for them once in a local election, and that was because the Labor candidate was a complete asshat. But I wouldn't hestitate to vote for them again if I didn't like the Labor candidate. Is that wrong??

For the levels, can you tell me your name and title, please.

Could you speed it up a little, sir?

The other day I mentioned a recurring nightmare where I’m interviewing Alexander Downer. For some reason, halfway through the interview he leans across the table and tries to strangle me*.

That got me thinking about all the pollies I’ve interviewed; the good ones, the cunts and the just plain awkward. Here, for the benefit of history, is the Ramon Insertnamehere Guide to Famous People who have talked to Me.

The good ones. I’m probably biased but the Labor chaps always seemed more approachable. Bracksie came across as a lovable goof and Beazley impressed me with his obvious intelligence and passion. Even Alexander Downer, with a habitual expression on his face of “what-ho, you media chappies” was usually pretty relaxed.

The awkward. Xanana Gusmao was a fascinating man to talk to, the years of suffering and struggle there on his face but fuck, he was frustrating to interview.

Mainly.

Because.

He.

Spoke.

So.

Fucking.

Slowly.

I had thought it was because English wasn’t his first language but he spoke like that all the time. I’d hate to be stuck behind him if you were trying to order a beer in a pub.

The bad. John Howard clearly regarded the media as a pack of uppity, insolent tradies and Tony Abbott had the dead, black eyes of a shark but the cunt of cunts was Peter Costello.

A vicious bully, a nasty sneering prick, it should come as no surprise that opinion polls consistently rated Costello as marginally less popular than a rat-poison enema. The Gallery’s Cult of Costello always baffled me and I’m confident the Costello memoirs will tank, leaving Melbourne University Press and Louise Adler looking like a pack of dills.

Good.

*I can't recall Alex actually trying to strangle me, but it is a nightmare I have had.

There's no 'pet' in public transport

It's not easy being a top-drawer transport bureaucrat. One day it's not enough trains, the next day, it's too many passengers.

These very real transport challenges aside, every now and then, the unusual and bizarre aspects of public transport appear, such as the correspondence that crossed my desk from the improbably named Barking Mad. They are animated by the belief that pet owners have a 'right' to use public transport and other public spaces (like parks, beaches, etc) with their pets and that the rest of 'us' need to accommodate their needs.

They also seem to believe that, since 88% of disabilities are invisible, public transport operators need to allow people with 'companion animals' on to their vehicles, with not a lot of evidence that they are trained appropriately or otherwise not a hazard to others. Oh and also that the monolithic 'we' of the transport world need to change the Transport Act to take the needs of pet owners into account.

What is interesting is that Barking Mad underline the way that the world of disabilities is not one big, happy special needs family. In my work, I've become aware of a very real hierarchy of disabilities. Many deaf people don't believe they're disabled, they just use a different language. The wheelchair people are fighting off the demands for 'their' spaces on trains, buses and car parks from the morbidly obese and elderly who use 'gofers' and other motorised mobility aids. And of course, every other disability group hate the blind (thanks to all those top bloke diggers blinded by gas in WWI, the Blind Pension in Australia is the only disability pension without a means test).

Yes, dealing with nuffies who think their choice to own a dog means the rest of us should shove over is just part and parcel of the rich and varied life of a public transport bureaucrat. In times like this, I refer to the wisdom learned from the Basil Fawlty school of management: "This transport system would run perfectly well without any passengers".

Of course, in the light of record high patronage and overcrowding on public transport, how we're ever going to get people with companion animals on board is another question all together...

End of Week MILF

Being single, I am often asked or forced to consider what attributes I might like in a potential partner.

The following things come to mind.

1. Ideally they will be a bit or a lot intelligent.
2. I must find them attractive.
3. They should be happy (even if they look like Audrey Hepburn and have Einstein's brain, if they're bitter I lose interest).
4. Likes footy, or tolerates my love of it.

That's about it.

But, I'd like to add one, given the events of the past few days.

5. Must be able to shoot a caribou, like Sarah Palin.



Ramon thinks I'm a nutsoid, and yeah, she's a right-wing brain-dead conservative Christian drongo who clings to dangerous superstitions (ie: the Bible) and with such archaic, childish and moronic value systems could potentially bring damage to many people's lives, but, like I said, after half a bottle of wine, I'd hit it.

BECAUSE SHE'S POWERFUL!

AND SHE SHOOTS CARIBOU!

Put her in a policewoman's outfit and I'll be jizzin' all over the axeminster.

Sort of like the Australian Democrats, only in turbans.

One of the things that struck me while reading media reports about the recent biffo* in Afghanistan was the way various journos kept referring to an attack by “Taliban extremists”.

As opposed to what, Taliban moderates?

“Well, yes, you have been found guilty of sending your daughter to school but instead of stoning you to death you’ll receive a written reprimand.

“Oh, and you’ll have to pick up all the rubbish around the cave for a week.”

UPDATE:

On doing some research for this rant, I’ve discovered most of the journos are now describing them as “Taliban fighters”. Which is a little better, but given they were armed with machine guns and rocket propelled grenades, they were hardly going to be “Taliban social workers”.

*I’m not going to describe it as a “firefight”. People who use the word “firefight” are cunts.

Birds are crunts.

Feck off, you!

My loathing of owls is a matter of public record but now I’m forced to conclude the entire avian species has it in for me.

For the past week at around six in the morning, a bird has taken to waking us up with its particularly revolting early morning call.

If you travel long enough on public transport, you’ll eventually come across an older citizen (usually a bloke) with one or two hygiene issues and a hacking cough of a strength and quality which suggests he’s in the process of coughing up his lungs, spleen and a portion of lower colon into his hankie*.

That’s what has been greeting us each morning.

I suggested to Kitty that she might like do her job and remove said bird.

Her expression suggested that I might like to go fuck myself and where was her fucking breakfast?

It’s true, my cat is Father Jack.

*If you’re lucky, they have a hankie.

Legendary actress admits to taking drugs!

In the next TSFKA installment of “I can’t believe its news!” Actress Helen Mirren admits to snorting coke in the 80’s, but then she stopped cause she found out some nasty man was making money off it.

OMFG! STOP THE PRESSES!


p.s. I couldn't find a Perez Hilton style photo of the Dame, so you'll have to use your imagination.

Nikki Hudson = Evil Bitch

When will sporting stars learn that in return for stardom they are forbidden from being human?

Some shameless hussy from the Australian Hockey Team wrote on her Facebook page the following:

"Nikki thinks the running of the bulls should be changed and we should be chased by the spainish (sic) mens hockey team. I would definately (sic) make sure I got caught and impaled!''

and,

""Nikki has a black eye from all the girls pushing me out of the way to get prime position by the window seeing naked aussies in rooms across from us!!!''

The grammar is bad enough, as is her habit of talking about herself in the third person, but of course her worst crime is acting and writing like a normal member of society. This is a disgrace! She apologised to Hockey Australia today, but I don't think an apology is enough. She must be made an example of and be fired from the Australian team and perhaps given a prison sentence. Upon release, she should also do a tour of schools to talk of the evils of expressing oneself honestly in a public forum, and for having desires other than the pre-approved 'Gold For Australia'.

To all TSFKA's regular sporting star readers, may I reiterate Australian society's contract with you:

1. You must only speak in pre-approved cliches.

2. You must not express yourself as an individual because you are not an individual. We own you.

3. You must never dabble in narcotics, and we'll test you on your holidays, at your home, in the middle of the night to make sure you haven't had so much as a puff of a joint. The fact that no other occupation on Earth is subject to drug-testing for narcotics is neither here nor there.

5. You have no life other than your sport. You do not exist beyond your sport. No matter who you are, where you come from and what you aspire to, you are a 'role model' for Our Kids (TM) and as such, you must be without blemish, totally compliant to the greater society's whim and preferably a virgin.

Shame, random hockey player, shame.

Clam Barstool is a monumental tool

The other day, while leafing through the usually excellent Walkley magazine produced by my union, the MEAA, I came across a piece written by our old friend – Clam Barstool.

I’m not going to provide a link – the article itself is turgid beyond belief – but poor old Clam takes the opportunity to rehash the unpleasantness of some months ago.

Amid from the whining and self pity, the Clammy one did manage to produce at least one par that made me laugh out loud.

Clem Barstow is a freelance writer, editor of The Dawn Chorus and associate editor of Defamer Australia.

Bugger me sideways, could this woman get any more pompous?

Freelance writer my arse, you produce the odd bar review at the end of the Age’s EG section.

Associate editor of Defamer Australia – you contribute to a D-grade gossip site because your mate Ausculture Jess got you the gig.

But the “editor of The Dawn Chorus” really gets me – she writes for a group blog with more contributors than readers.

If Clam is “editor of The Dawn Chorus” then I’m editor-in-chief of TSFKA and God-King of Preston.