Monday, June 30, 2008
"I will be working toward helping the Cyprus saga, working as an envoy to try and resolve that long standing issue," Mr Downer told News Limited in London today.
You know, I don't think he misspoke when he said he would be "helping the Cyprus saga"...
Me? I've loaded it with a number of comedy albums. Some Rodney Rude, Bad News, Seinfeld, Jimoin, and alternate music that has some comedic elements. I tell ya it's hard to be grappling the sads demon when They Might Be Giants is blasting down your ear canal.
So people afflicted thusly with Sads who like music. Balance that playlist. Because too much Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds will put anyone over the edge...
Sunday, June 29, 2008
'Oh the ALP are still enjoying a honeymoon. They have it in the bag. You will see. The media is in love with Rudd. They aren't turning the blow torch on him because they want to marry him. Have a big wedding with Rudd all in white, and 200 Press Gallery people - except for the wise news limited types of course because they've been steadfastly objective with their weekly predictions the honeymoon is over - in tuxedos then off on government transport for a big honeymoon of Rudd love. Wait and see.'
The election goes to the coalition. Swing against the government of 7%
'The Rudd government is on the nose. They said they would lower petrol costs - the didn't. They said they would lower grocery prices - they didn't. All they do is watch. Watch as it goes higher. Well watch out Mr Rudd because the people of this blue ribbon national seat, who have returned coalition people for the last 40 years, have spoken. And they have spoken loudly, and clearly, that you are singularly responsible for petrol going up. Indeed local legend speaks of a hamburglar like character who at night sneaks on to the web and lifts prices on fuel watch and independents, who are small business people at the mercy of your can't sack people without compensation if they work for 12 months or more laws, are then beholden to those prices even though the hamburglar set them. The hamburglar who bears a suspicious resemblance to a certain Krudd. Yes, the people have spoken. They have spoken to me and they have said Mr Rudd, you wanted to kill the post office and turn it into a lesbian bar where lesbians could marry and be recognised by the law as married and they said no Mr Rudd. They said no and they said petrol is too expensive and they said the five cents off we offered them would be welcome. They didn't say anything about the impact of the Iraq war which analysts have said bears a lot of the blame for high prices due uncertainty of supply - a war which my party fully supported even while the inspectors will still trying to find those weapons that a man who knows a man who knows a man who said they were there. You are on the nose Mr Rudd and my party will respect my leadership at this time and my ability to go from placid lake to turbulent rage in ten seconds as I weave stories of doctoring in my defence of Taragos for the disabled. And they will keep me as leader because I can put the blowtorch to you Mr Rudd. You and your committee setting. You have been warned Mr Rudd. Warned. And we will have posse's of locals with sticks and torches keeping an eye out for you Mr Rudd as you attempt to fiddle the net and make petrol more expensive.'
I saw evidence of it today on a walk. Two girls riding their barbie pushies, with big pink mudguards and puffy pink handle covers. They must have been seven or eight.
One of them, as she rode, was texting on her barbie phone...
Today I realized. He sounds identical to Colin Grigson (aka Rik Mayall) of Bad News
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Fucking zero hero.
Us fucking end in fives only ever get the good stuff if it's fucking 25. Otherwise we just get fucked off.
So fuck the lot of you 00 posts. You mean shit to me.
Today the US Supreme Court ruled against the Washington DC gun laws.
The court split 5/4 on ideological grounds. This arse-hat, Scalia, lead the charge on the strike down side.
Scalia wrote that the Constitution leaves the District a number of options for combating the problem of handgun violence, "including some measures regulating handguns."
"But the enshrinement of constitutional rights necessarily takes certain policy choices off the table," he continued. "These include the absolute prohibition of handguns held and used for self-defense in the home."
The court also held unconstitutional the requirement that shotguns and rifles be kept disassembled or unloaded or outfitted with a trigger lock. The court called it a "prohibition against rendering any lawful firearm in the home operable for the purpose of immediate self-defense."
Scalia was joined by the most consistently conservative justices -- Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr., Anthony M. Kennedy, Clarence Thomas and Samuel A. Alito Jr.
More people die in the US from gun accidents resulting from poorly secured firearms than are killed in the home by would be felons. Or indeed kill other family members through accidents such as blasting away a loved one who was sneaking in and trying not to wake them.
The second amendment gives a well regulated militia the right to bear arms. Bearing in mind arms back then consisted of a flintlock which took around 15 seconds to load and could not be left in a ready firing position indefinitely because the powder would eventually turn (as is my understanding).
Your average handgun carries 15 bullets and a skilled shooter can empty a clip in under 5 seconds.
God bless America. Right wing fucktards.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
I tend to have anger bursts, short violent explosions of rage, at inanimate objects however. For example a poorly functioning computer will set me off like the goat who always gets mad in Sesame Street, or if I drop something, or if I miss-key when typing and so forth. It's a constant battle to keep this anger in check. At work I will start of the day like Napoleon Dynamite by cursing politely with some 'flipping heck' style action - or even 'biscuits' which for some reason makes me feel like I am swearing. But constant layer after layer after layer of crap will build and I will eventually blow off a 'F-F-F-F-UCK YOU!!!!!!!!' at said object.
The other night it was the lamp in the study - the one near the couch. It has an annoying flicker. I was highly aggrieved when I brushed it, and it made the mistake of flickering.
Next thing I knew I was shaking it violently by the stand and snarl-screaming 'I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU FUCKING FUCKERRRRRRRRRRR'.
Yeah, I think I might need to go see someone again. I was about one shade of rage away from being Basil Fawlty.
See below at time count 5.45.
The nearest "book" is the yellow pages but it's not really a book. So I will now use my backstratcher and measure from my position now in the chair the distance as the crow flies to the nearest book. Right the book is Thief of Dreams by Adrian Cole (I have not yet read it). I assume you don't count a spill over sentence from the previous page and just go the full sentences. And the winner is...
"I don't want anything less, Zellorian".
That's heartily obscure. If I had gone the yellow pages I would have had simply "Mals Refrigeration". What I like about Mals is that it is and can only ever be for Mals since Mals forgot the apostrophe. That's quite a narrow niche market they have for cooling equipment. I wonder if they advertise heavily within Mals Weekly - the publication for Mals that only Mals can peruse and must show their special Mals ID when purchasing said item from a vendor?
Tag-a-roony time. EC front and centre. You too Uncle Bruce.
Don't make me come up there! (shakes fist)
Intervention may need 15 years, says Abbott
Posted 7 hours 30 minutes ago
The Federal Opposition says the intervention in the Northern Territory might have to continue for the next 10 to 15 years if it is to achieve real outcomes for Aboriginal people.
A year on from the intervention, the Opposition's Aboriginal affairs spokesman, Tony Abbott, says there is still a lack of data available about truancy rates and job absenteeism.
Mr Abbott has told a lunch in Sydney that the Government also needs to attract the very best doctors, nurses, teachers and police to work in remote Indigenous townships.
"There needs to be appropriate pay and there needs to be an understanding that this is for the long term," he said.
"It's the public statement that this is important and that this is special and that the people who are doing this are the best of the best."
So why the fuck did your arse-hat Aboriginal Australian bashing fucked in the head compassionate absent government not only sit on your hands for 11 years when Aboriginal Australians could have been helped but you took away funding and did your fucking best to retard any hope they had for land compensation claims?
Oh, that's right.
Because you're a bunch of massive chunts that only "intervened" because it was an election year and you thought you could wedge the opposition on it.
Me? I had a nice shirt on - but untucked since I have no belt - and ... draw string black cargo pants.
Now in my defence I told the function organisers that I was pushing the dress code and they said come anyway. So I did. And, for the first time in ages, had fun at one of these things. Mainly because I forced them to sit me next to a person whose company I find delightful.
Anyway, I was the lowest ranked person there. By several steps. I get invited because I help this org out and this was their thank-you dinner to all the senior people ... and me.
So I get there, and the pre-dinner drinks thing is happening, and boss+++ sees me. He indicates I should stand with them - so I do. He's the lovely man I not only toilet squished but I later apologised for it in front of all his senior under people.
I am conscious of my pants. My dress code busting pants - and I am nervous since I don't do small talk very well. For some reason I decided to tell him.
'Yeah, I came straight from work. Wearing dress code envelope bursting cargo pants. Still, um, if we need to carry stuff I got lots of pockets'.
I then lifted my leg and gave my many pockets a light seductive scraping.
Allow me. Cough ... cough cough.
I don't know what it is about this man but when I am around him I say or do unbelievably stupid things. He must think I am a right twonk.
Also, tomorrow, he's deciding if the job I love doing is worth doing at all.
Great timing mimo.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Police allegedly asked McKenney how he came to be in such a state and discovered a small quantity of the drug in a trouser pocket.
When he saw the drug McKenney allegedly told police he recognised it to be GHB, but emphatically denied ownership or using it.
Later in his record of interview McKenney told police he had been to a party at an apartment in Macleay Street, Potts Point, on Anzac Day eve and had danced so much that he began to overheat and had taken his pants off to continue dancing.McKenney, who has pleaded not guilty to the charge and has been on police bail, allegedly told arresting officers that it was while his pants were down that someone at the party must have put the drug into his pocket.
From now on that shall also be my defence. I was so hot dancing I had to pants myself.
It's my choice of garb when I go a walking at night. As noted I've been going the MP3 player a lot lately, which makes the walking experience less horrible.
In addition to the danger of the inadvertent sing-a-long I've noticed my tendency to vent-along. If I am mulling on angry thoughts I will sometimes express them out loud. With the MP3 in I tend to do it far more often because I guess subconsciously I am thinking no one can hear me over the music.
So there I am, creaking along in the dark in my orange jumper and black beanie muttering not so softly things like 'well fuck them .... and another thing ... 15 years! ... Jesus fucking arseholes ... what would they know? ....'.
Then, if the nearby are really lucky, I will intersperse some of that vent-along goodness with a dash of sing-along too.
'Bunch of fucking cunts ... ♫♪ Shine on you crazy dia-a-a-mond ♫♪ How many years?! Fucking hell I am a stupid fuck ... ♫♪ Just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year ... ♫♪ ... Arse hats the lot of them.'
And ... so forth.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
According to Lateline he's now hiding out in the Dutch embassy.
Fucking hell Zimbabwe went down hill. Mugabe lead a resistance movement to victory and assisted the ANC in their resistance movements in South Africa. Zimbabwe wasn't a bed of roses but up until about seven years ago it held its head high in Africa and exported more food that it imported. Now, the only thing it exports is its people with about a third of them refugees in surrounding countries.
I think it's a combination of old injustices being resolved (seizure of land from white farmers) but resolved without thought to the knock on effects. The farms as I understand it were plantation style macro operations - thousands of acres with white farmers (some of whom had bought the land after Mugabe took power) at the pinnacle like kings of old in those social class pyramids we read about in school, with black Africans filling out the lower ranks. The white farmers were essentially agricultural technocrats employing sophisticated techniques to manage vast operations.
When the seizures occured - which had its roots in the UK and Mugabe's regime failing to sort out a fair means of land redistribution - the land was parcelled out in small chunks to cronies and others that did not have the skill sets or equipment to do anything beyond basic subsistence farming.
So it all went to shit. Now Philtrum Sliver is living some sort of deluded hero fantasy where he is unable to acknowledge that the carrying out of what could be argued was a noble act went completely and utterly smegging pear shaped and turned his country from a bread basket to an old hat with a sign in it saying will drop pants for food.
And the "war veterans", the vats bulk of which appear to have been born after Mugabe became president, with the armed forces are backing Mugabe because what little is left will be lost if they lose power - even though millions of their people are starving, unemployed, or otherwise well fucked.
If Iraq hadn't happened there's a chance, slim mind you, that the international community would have done something. Not now. They don't have the stomach for sorting out intrastate violence. And South Africa is hobbled in its responses because they owed Mugabe their survival in the struggle years.
There is no solution that I can see. Apart from every western country sending all the cronies kids packing from their countries. But even that's just punishing a handful while millions starve.
It's basically up to the African states that surround it now. I suppose once it reaches a critical mass of refugees they may step in. Tanzania after-all took out Amin's government in the 70's. But I'm not holding my breath.
All credit however to those that stood up to Mugabe. There's no shame in calling it quits in the face of overt threats to life and limb. They should be proud of what they have achieved.
The smell of boiling water meeting hot water bottle rubber has a certain pastiche of memories that flood the brain. Mostly being fuck off cold as a kid and gratefully taking a hottie to bed. First you'd have the cover on - because it was too hot. Then as the bottle chilled you'd peel off the outer layer and snuggle the fuck out of the now naked rubber bottle.
There's an art to filling a hottie. You have to pour slow otherwise you will get splashback. I'm not sure on the physics of it but if the water is poured too fast the bottle fills with steam and is unable to take more water and kind of farts out hot water.
There was this book I loved as a kid called Phoebe and the Hot Water Bottles. It was about a girl who lived above a chemist with her dad and would get hot water bottles every birthday and Christmas (from her dad the chemist). She named them all and would take them to bed wearing colourful covers but longed for a real life pet - a puppy. One night, and I am spoiling it for you now, there was a fire and she used the hotties, all filled, to douse the flames. Her dad then got her the puppy. I loved stories like that. Longing, triumph, justified reward. No wonder I love Dungeons and Dragons etc.
In my home town - which was high in elevation and suffered the cold quite acutely - I would often get changed in front of the kent fireplace - basically a metal box with a glass door. One night I accidentally lent against the glass and burnt myself. I was so incensed that I ran to the kitchen, filled a jug, and punished the fire by putting it out. My parents were pissed off since it was now a soggy mess and would require much work to fix. Not a hot water bottle memory but still an unpleasant yet heating related one.
Here in Canberra we've gone through about four electric blankets - which routinely fall over and die for inexplicable reasons. They're both expensive and annoying to put on and take off. So we've fucked that off and are back to hotties.
Besides. Hotties are romantic. Blankets are just annoying and, like eating cheese late at night, give you weird dreams if you go to sleep with them still on.
One of the writers, not the one who said "literally opened the door to another world", happily described how when writing disturbed sex you could readily use words like "fuck, cock, and even cunt."
When I was a kid Cunt was THE nuclear word. It was the wrongest, nastiest word you could call someone.
Now - on the ABC in normal, albeit contextual, conversation.
I love my national broadcaster.
This is a special seasonal one. Indeed it could be its own Loony Tunes special with thematic cartoons in support of it.
Aspirating a blocked nose.
Basically you get one of those puffer things with a nozzle - looks like an old SLR camera lens blower - and after squirting saline up a nostril you stick the nozzle up there while the puffer is squeezed in then release. It sucks the snot into the puffer and, when you pull the nozzle out, a thick tendril of snot is usually still sticking between nozzle and nostril like a disgusting cross crevice rope bridge. Of course the baby hates this and is waving its little arms around in an effort to escape and chances are their hand will wave right through the snot bridge and said snot will wrap around their fingers and palm which you then have to clean.
Want teens to be put off the idea of the romance of early motherhood? Show them a video of that little number in action.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
The tag line was 'most cars have a fatal flaw - but not this one.'
What. The. Fuck?!
Most cars have a fatal flaw!?
Doesn't that mean 'most cars kill people - but not this one.' And by this one don't they mean that specific model just advertised. So, by transition (is that right Bruce), all other Mazdas have fatal flaws and ergo can and do kill people?
Area ad man needs re-examine their tagline.
Only thing is more often than not he will leave a piece of half masticated food on his shoulders like disgusting pulped epaulets.
When I peel them off I feel like I am dishonorably discharging him from the vegetable army.
I wonder if you can be dishonorably discharged from the Kiss Army? If so Gene Simmons probably removes the epaulets with his over long tongue.
SMH's Spectrum has a hefty piece about nuding it up and gathering with the like nuded. Frankly I couldn't think of anything more disturbing but then I have an appalling sense of body image combined with an appalling body. I suffer from glacial gut over hang, have unpleasantly thinning hair, a thatch of Connery esq body hair front, back, and butt, and am either missing most of my toenails - or if present they are sunken into the nail bed like the dead sea.
Nakation, no thanks. Besides, I can remember has a kid riding around on one of those Tricycle things with the white plastic seat and leaving a skiddy on it that never came off. Wouldn't nakation resorts suffer constant smear on seating issues? Imagine being on skid remover patrol? Maybe it's like an aisle clean up and they call it in over the PA?
'Skid stain, white seat, rec room. Skid stain, white seat, rec room. Skid patrol to the rec room.'
Also there's no opportunity to make use of the pants osmosis window in an effort to disguise the whodunit. I mean they'd pretty much know right?
I remember reading an article about a all naked cruise where they had an FAQ about communal nudity. One of the dot points was 'what happens if I get an erection?' Their advice was to accept that it can and does happen and to discretely cover with a towel.
Which I would have thought it would have made it all the more obvious.
Anyway, words of the day. Cadential and Nakation. I wonder if you could have a Cadential Nakation? I suppose, but where would you hang your iPod?
Big mistake mate.
I got a call on Friday. It went like this.
'Hello, my name is (X). I am calling from the Daily Telegraph. Before I continue I must let you know this call is being recorded for training purposes.'
'We'd like to offer you a subscription. Do you read the Daily Telegraph?'
'No, it's a Murdoch paper. I have a fundamental disagreement with the editorial policy of News Limited papers and the current editor for the Daily Telegraph. You are utterly wasting your time because my interest is zero. Have a nice day.'
'Um ... okay,'
Man I really wish I'd said a whole lot more. If I had a Nixon style enemies list Penberthy would be on it for his muck raking Liberal party penis sucking Murdoch business agenda driving yellow "journalism".
'How can he not just admit he was wrong?' asks Bolt (on Insiders) with his big shiny eyes.
Let's see Bolty. There's Climate Change, the Stolen Generation, Water, Iraq, the War on Terror, Gitmo, and so on and so on.
All subjects in which where time and time again you have been shown to be in error. And not once have you come out and said 'wow, I was wrong on that one.'
The hypocrisy of 'bury me in a Y shaped coffin' knows no bounds. It's hilarious.
Keep it up Bolty. Luckily I have like five TVs so I can take an exploding one for the simple joy of watching you be a tit live on screen.
PS Now Bolt is wanking on about people misleading parliament. He's on safe grounds now the ALP control Federal and State houses and can piously demand resignations. Of course nowhere to be seen was that cry when his precious Libs were in. What a fucktard.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Why can't landscapers see it? People are like water. They find the easiest way. Really what they should do is run a hose across the ground and simply put the path where the water goes.
That is all.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Take Charlie Sheen. I respect Sheen's body of work - he's a funny man and his movies are classic. He has some relationship issues, and alas for Sheen we all know about them.
He left a salty tinged voicemail on his ex's phone. Again, I can understand it. Love soured is the worst kind of sour to have except the unrequited love sour kind - which is a factor more awful.
Anyway his ex is Denise Richards. She was in Starship Troopers the movie and also that comedy that involved cheerleaders killing each other. She's a B lister for sure. She met Sheen, they got married, had kids, then as is the way with being in the spotlight and regularly having people in your life that would willingly pleasure you and frequently offer to do so their relationship fell apart.
Which is sad.
So Sheen abused Richards via her voicemail and allegedly left the following message.
You're a f***ing liar. So, you know what it's like, f**k you. OK, I hope you rot in f***ing hell. You're a piece of s**t f***ing liar and I hope you f***ing rot in hell. So f**k you. I hope I never f***ing talk to you again you f***ing ****. F**k you. You're a coward and a liar and a f***ing n****r alright, so f**k you.
Yes, that's right. Sheen called Richards a n****r. Which is a particularly unpleasant word.
Here's a pic of Richards.
I think you'll agree she is perhaps one of the whitest people on the planet. If Hitler were around today she'd probably make the 2009 Aryan Girls Das Ein Booner my Schnitzel calendar.
Our man Sheen needs Fred Hollows stat.
They are also extremely boring. They have no real taste. They are the biscuit equiv of water. They are marginally less flavourful than McDonald's cookies.
Consequently they get enhanced a lot. Typically if featuring in your lunchbox they had a smear of butter and were wrapped in gladwrap like a poor man's condom ("seriously baby, it won't come off, I added a rubber band and everything").
Recently I discovered something. Peanut butter on an arrowroot is good. It's in fact delish. Sure, it's likely not good for me but in my current sensitive stomach life I can digest it readily and it doesn't get stuck like toast does.
Anyway, Arrowroots and peanut butter - worth a try.
Today theNoo fire hosed as I was trying to change him. I had foolishly removed the nappy completely from his fire for effect area and he soaked himself, his clothes, the underlay and so forth.
So it was bath time as a result. I'm slowly getting the hang of doing stuff one handed - with theNoo in the other arm - so I was trying to get everything ready to bathe him in the kitchen sink and naturally rather focussed. It was only when he was in the sink having his bath that I realised that he had in fact hosed me as well but good as I was cradling him. I hadn't realised cos the nerve sensations in my gut were dead and not giving me the heads up that a golden shower had been and gone.
Still, rather me than the floor. A t-shirt is easier to wash than a floor is to mop.
Hooray! Welcome my people.
Naturally the pithy cappuccino morning shows had to have fucking footage of poor fatties slobbing to work as the skeletal news reader waifs (who have a body fat of like 4% between them) shook their heads sadly.
Come on news people. Do you really have to show us poor overweight people from waist to neck as we huff and puff in public?
Does that matter?
Here's a fucking tip. Fat people know they're fat. If any fat person ever says 'I am happy to be fat' they are either lying or mentally damaged. Shows like Biggest Loser, which purport to help but in reality mock the overweight with their food teasing etc, and other fine programs are there to remind us fatties that were are the lesser in the human experience. That we have let the side down with our fattery.
And just because we have narrowly pipped the US on the fat stakes - proportionally - is no reason to go into paroxysms about the health disaster that has suddenly washed upon us in all its blubbery glory. Health professionals have known for some time that 'time poor - diet poor exercise motivation poor - genes - and cultural reliance on the car' etc cauldron of crap have toiled and bubbled to form a perfect storm of fatness in our brown land.
Of course this story gives the "news" an excuse to run the neck to waist wobble montage again the anti-fatist fucks.
By the way, as noted above I am fat. I have been fat since I was about 12. When my pants are resting between gigs on the back of the couch they look like the 'I've Lost!' prop pants ex fatties hold up in a combo of giddy thrilled revulsion for their spruiking benefit.
And I hate being fat. And yes, I am trying not to be.
But you know what doesn't help? Fucking talking head light weight barely a journalist skinny bitches tsk tsking sadly at the wobble montage. It just reminds me that people judge me for the weight I carry rather than the character I have.
The fat. The last frontier of people you can be bigoted against.
Naturally people crawl out of the woodwork with scandalous tales of candidates that may or may not be true about the candidates, or indeed shenanigans by candidates can surface. The best one ever - and no not Jennifer Flowers - was during the Gary Hart 1988 campaign where Hart challenged journos to catch him out in an affair and they did exactly that within three days, publishing pics of him with some titty chick on a boat and forever ruining his chances at the top job.
Obama has attracted more than his fair share of crazy shit that ranges from true (his fiery preacher) to highly improbable (he's a Muslim Manchurian candidate).
This following effort is in the latter. Some dude has claimed that Obama and he snorted some blow then blew each other. I assume on the second part - I haven't read the specifics.
Anyway this guy has been peddling his sordid tale for many months - and I should note that Obama has confessed to cocaine use in the past (unlike George Bush who said "I have not used illegal drugs in the last 20 years" when he stood for office and neglected to mention he'd been done DUI during his alco phase on the grounds he didn't want to set a bad example for his daughters - who later came within one strike of going in the pokey under three strikes in Texas for underage alcohol purchases ... while they were being escorted by their secret service detail).
Mr 'I had sex with that man' fronted the media with his lawyer. Let's let the SMH tell the next bit.
Sinclair was accompanied by his kilt-clad lawyer, Montgomery Blair Sibley. Sibley has had his own problems: a Florida court struck him off for vexatious litigation, most of it directed against his former wife.
"I don't mean to be impudent," said one reporter, "but why are you wearing a kilt?"
Sibley explained: "It has to do with genitalia. If you are on the smaller side, then pants are not uncomfortable."
That's just fucking awesome. A kilt clad lawyer who claims he is so attired because of the extent of his manhood - presumably in the safety switch is on mode. Because that's not at all going to undermine your client's claims is it?
I say you 'almost couldn't make it up' because Seinfeld did have an unusually attired lawyer - George Costanza's father's lawyer who wore a cape (played by comic genius Larry David). A sartorial choice which naturally flummoxed George who was then fixated on who the man was (not knowing he was his dad's lawyer).
The last scene of the episode featured the cape clad lawyer saving the life of someone on a bridge.
'Who are you?' the saved person asked.
'I'm Frank Costanza's lawyer,' said David.
Awesome stuff. This election is fucking gold.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I think even Tony Jones mentioned his "captive audience".
Come on ABC. The right already own Insiders. Why do they have to spoil this show too?
UPDATE: Jones just asked Pyne 'your five cents does bugger all, why float it'. Pyne - 'because people know the coalition will do something if we do'. As opposed to doing anything of actual substance. The classic argument of 'something must be done, this is something, I will do that.'
UPDATE2: The fuckwit young libs crew just gave a massive hoitie HUZZAH to the fuckwit down the front who managed to blurt out some sort of half attempt to cloak the disposal of Saddam as nothing more than a beatific sop to world democracy.
Yes, can you believe it? That they did this. By now you should not be surprised.
When AG and Gitmo abuses came out the administration quickly pointed the finger at grunts in the field getting happy slappy on prisoners. A few of them - and I believe not a single officer - are now doing time. What they did was fucked - there's not doubt. There's also little doubt they were encouraged by senior officials and others in their crimes.
Here's some choice snips.
General Accuses WH of War Crimes
By Dan Froomkin
Special to washingtonpost.com
Wednesday, June 18, 2008; 12:44 PM
The two-star general who led an Army investigation into the horrific detainee abuse at Abu Ghraib has accused the Bush administration of war crimes and is calling for accountability.
In his 2004 report on Abu Ghraib, then-Major General Anthony Taguba concluded that "numerous incidents of sadistic, blatant, and wanton criminal abuses were inflicted on several detainees." He called the abuse "systemic and illegal." And, as Seymour M. Hersh reported in the New Yorker, he was rewarded for his honesty by being forced into retirement.
Now, in a preface to a Physicians for Human Rights report based on medical examinations of former detainees, Taguba adds an epilogue to his own investigation.
The new report, he writes, "tells the largely untold human story of what happened to detainees in our custody when the Commander-in-Chief and those under him authorized a systematic regime of torture. This story is not only written in words: It is scrawled for the rest of these individual's lives on their bodies and minds. Our national honor is stained by the indignity and inhumane treatment these men received from their captors.
"The profiles of these eleven former detainees, none of whom were ever charged with a crime or told why they were detained, are tragic and brutal rebuttals to those who claim that torture is ever justified. Through the experiences of these men in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Guantanamo Bay, we can see the full-scope of the damage this illegal and unsound policy has inflicted --both on America's institutions and our nation's founding values, which the military, intelligence services, and our justice system are duty-bound to defend.
"In order for these individuals to suffer the wanton cruelty to which they were subjected, a government policy was promulgated to the field whereby the Geneva Conventions and the Uniform Code of Military Justice were disregarded. The UN Convention Against Torture was indiscriminately ignored. . . .
"After years of disclosures by government investigations, media accounts, and reports from human rights organizations, there is no longer any doubt as to whether the current administration has committed war crimes. The only question that remains to be answered is whether those who ordered the use of torture will be held to account."
And a cut down version of the following wash post article from the SMH.
Defender of jail abuse pleads amnesia
Date: June 19 2008
Dana Milbank in Washington
IF EVER there was a case that cried out for enhanced interrogation techniques, it was the appearance of the Pentagon's former top lawyer in the US Senate.
William "Jim" Haynes II, the man who blessed the use of dogs, hoods and nudity to pry information out of recalcitrant detainees, proved to be a model of evasion himself as he resisted all attempts at inquiry by the Armed Services Committee.
Did he ask a subordinate to get information about harsh questioning techniques?
"My memory is not perfect."
Did he see a memo about the effects of these techniques?
"I don't specifically remember when I saw this."
Did he remember doing something with the information?
"I don't remember doing something with this …"
When did he discuss these methods with other Bush Administration officials?
"I don't know precisely when, and I cannot discuss it further without getting into classified information."
Mr Haynes (who, denied a judgeship by the Senate, left the Pentagon in February for a job with Chevron) had good reason to plead temporary senility.
A committee investigation found that, contrary to his earlier testimony, he had shown strong interest in potentially abusive questioning methods as early as July 2002. Later, ignoring the strong objections of the military, he sent a memo to the former defence secretary, Donald Rumsfeld, recommending the use of stress positions, nudity, dogs and light deprivation.
Taking his seat before the committee, he said: "I don't have a formal opening statement" before reading his formal opening statement, in which he defended those things he couldn't remember doing.
He then allowed the amnesia to wash over him. Over two hours, he managed 23 "don't recalls", 22 "don't remembers", 16 "don't knows" and other protestations of memory loss.
An impressive performance, but let's see him do it wearing a hood, standing on a crate with wires attached to his arms.
The Washington Post
And from another Froomkin article
In his prepared statement for today's hearing, former Navy general counsel Alberto J. Mora, who fought a private battle within the Pentagon to maintain longstanding interrogation rules, writes that "our Nation's policy decision to use so-called 'harsh' interrogation techniques during the War on Terror was a mistake of massive proportions. . . . This interrogation policy -- which may aptly be labeled a 'policy of cruelty' -- violated our founding values, our constitutional system and the fabric of our laws, our over-arching foreign policy interests, and our national security."
Mora reminds us: "The United States was founded on the principle that every person -- not just each citizen -- possesses certain inalienable rights that no government, including our own, may violate."
And he says the cost has been paid in American lives: "[T]here are serving U.S. flag-rank officers who maintain that the first and second identifiable causes of U.S. combat deaths in Iraq -- as judged by their effectiveness in recruiting insurgent fighters into combat -- are, respectively the symbols of Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo."
Here's my prediction. In his last week in office George W Bush will pardon every single person in his administration for their crimes down during his time in office. He will, as many hundreds of scoundrels and scum before them, cloak his deeds in patriotism and flag flying and 'they did what was was necessary to preserve freedom' all the while having headed a government that has done more to undermine core principles of human rights, freedom, equality and the protection of the law in the US than any administration before them.
Including the Nixon white house.
God bless America.
I can't help thinking of those greedy fucking developers that built entire suburbs predicated on the car being the prime if not sole means of transport so they could fit more houses into smaller blocks (tiny winding streets are not good for buses).
So free marketeers. You did this. How ya going to fix it?
Who would have thought that there is a balance between the free market and publically owned and operated infrastructure.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
It was okay. I enjoyed it. No Keating! but then it would be hard to compete.
The only thing was the third act scene change was really long. Like 10 minutes. We actually thought the play had ended and we were about a minute from leaving when the stage lights came back on.
I was this close to going to the barman and asking his advice as to whether it was over.
How crass would that have been. Quite the fox po!
Two minor downsides.
The first is the sing-a-long. You forget you're doing it sometimes. I found this out tonight when I was sampling some Keating! action and sotto belting out the chorus to I want to do you slowly when the cleaner was on the other side of the partition.
The other thing is public farting. When you control fart your brain listens to audible cues to better regulate flow as to dampen noise. When you got a bit of the Rolling Stones going off in your ears it's far harder to judge your aural footprint on the surrounds. But I think the disgusted glance and shuffle to the left by my fellow bus stop attendee was probably a clue that my control was not so great on that front.
Really there should be some kind of label. Like WARNING: You may not hear your own farts.
It's just common sense.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I clearly have issues. Apologies to the ladies and their aforementioned bits. In case the bits are also offended.
Also her vag was showing in full 'just getting out of the car, whoops forgot my knickers' pose.
In addition I think Boo Boo was there.
Apparently there was an ursine requirement to that dream.
I kill me.
If only there was an eager to please Doctor to take on this difficult task ... (see below).
Those days are gone. Thanks to the surgery last year I managed to eat maybe a mouthful of it before I ended up partially bringing it back up. I suppose there's a silver lining there.
So for dinner instead I had 100 grams of Choceur's Coffee and Cream Chocolate and a De-caff Diet Coke.
Take that medicine !
Here in Oz we still have Quadrant. Ah, Quadrant—funded by the CIA in the '50s as a soothing balm against the surging tide of red menace propaganda that swept the globe through militant nasty pasty unions and other lefty scum.
You can see June's offerings here.
Aw, isn't that cute? An article about The Chilling Costs of Climate Catastrophism by Ray Evans. That would be the same Ray who writes for the Lavoisier Group. A group bankrolled by mining companies to get in the ear of the previous government. The same Ray who founded the righty HR Nicholls society.
Keep fighting the good fight, Quadrant. Hold your lighter high. Just like fans of Motely Crue, who have apparently reformed creaking bones and all and strutting into the wake of super geriatrics like The Rolling Stones.
So he didn't have to stay in - thank gawd. But jeez it was stressy. All I could think on the bus ride was 'what if he's deathly sick?!' I've known people who lost a baby and I wonder how they go on. How crazed with grief would you be to lose a child.
Those images of the Chinese parents who lost their only children in the earthquake, where they howled with raw pain as they beat then rent earth with their hands really resonate. I can totally see how they feel that way.
He's crying again. The poor little fucker :(
UPDATE: By the way theNoo is a huge man slut. He gives out smiles to anyone in viewing distance.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Like this post on the Wonderland Murders. I think I especially like this post because of this sentence.
"On June 28, 1981, they were meeting with David Lind and Tracy McCourt, two other criminals, and John Holmes, who bought drugs from them and was known for being a pornstar with a large penis."
Gold. Britannica - you can't compete with this goodness.
This is my fave bit of the story.
Daniel - who did not wish to provide his full name - walked towards the man, ignoring threats from the robber that he would shoot.
The man pulled the trigger, but the gun did not fire, Daniel, 20, said. It was later found to be a replica.
Isn't that awesome? The gunman either knew it was a replica and tried to fire it OR thought it was real and tried to fire it. Either way he's marked by some serious deficiency in the grey matter area.
If it's the latter the there must have been some confusion during the sale.
'Check this out mate, it's sweet.'
'Oh yeah, sweet all right, for real?'
'Yeah, fully for real man. Fully sweet.'
'Sweet mate, I will take it.'
Great stuff crime world. Keep it up.
So if I see a woman striding head high and purposely through the work place should I assume that astride her gusset is some sort of pad with or without wings? Why can't men have a product they use that gives them confidence? I want to have a three times some sort of thing that gives me three times the confidence I need before an important meeting or something.
In fact this all sounds like a job for manpads.
My boss was sitting at her desk and she had her coat over her shoulders (ie sleeves dangling). Without thinking I said she resembled the Godfather of Soul.
Quite rightly she said that as a mature very white woman from the UK her resemblance to the creator of Papa's got a brand new bag was cursory at best. I lamely tried to explain she looked like when he was old and tired and being lead off stage by his minders just before he threw his cloak off to launch into the encore but I made the error of petering out before the explanation finished and kind of ended at 'old and tired.'
Man I am so lucky she's a good sort.
Also when talking about mongol warriors in ear shot of the boss don't happily describe how one of them, tired of the three holes on offer in a lady, would make his own. It just sounds disturbing.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
So what? That's like 25 tanks worth.
Ha ha ha. Good luck with it fellahs. You might want to notice that the age of the super huge penis substitute car is adios.
'I can remember it clearly,' said Transom. 'I could see them in the studio through a big glass observation wall they had set up in the facility. As I went past one of them, Waters I believe, pointed at me, then played on his guitar. I couldn't make out exactly what he was playing but it's obvious that the roots of insert seminal work here lay in my passage past their window.'
Transom has joined numerous other ordinary people who claim Floyd's sampling of their lives and subsequent use in their music entitles them to a large share of any monies earned thereof, such as the children who sang like 10 bars in Another Brick on the Wall then claimed the fond childhood memory they had of singing backing vocals for a group was worth a couple of grand now.
'They took me out of school for an afternoon!,' said Barnaby Koutis. 'I could have learned what Norway's exports were or someat. Now I will never have that piece of information restored to me. Yes I got to bunk off class and dine out on the story that I was one of dose kids goin' on about not needin' no teachin' and all that. But at what cost?!'
Transom's lawyers have asked other punters to step forward and join a class action against the group, saying that they know of at least two window cleaners that once did Gilmore's windows for a fiver and at the time mentioned something about Thatcher, the iron lady PM later appearing as the golden thread running through Floyd's Final Cut album.
'Johnny was powering up his vocals with some exercises along with his musos when the bagpipe section for You're The Voice got too close to the singer,' said Roadie Bob "If it moves gaff it, if it's green smoke it" Reilly. 'Next thing you know as one of the pipers took in a breath Johnny's expansive mullet got sucked in.'
The mullet, lovingly preserved in defiance of all hair style advice and is already listed as one of Australia's Hundred Greatest Living Australians (unlike Mr Farnham itself), was sucked so far into the bag that when the piper attempted to blow it out the mullet tendrils went up a different pipe.
'As you can imagine having a bagpipe hanging off Johnny's head is not a good look,' said a now glassy eyed Bob in one fluid breathless sentence. 'But cutting it free is not an option.'
Sources say producers have called in the local SES to attempt a de-piping of the bagpipe locked Farnham mullet.
'The SES are there for all Australians in a time of need,' said SES spokesperson Mr Jacob Safeton. 'And Johnny's mullet needs us. At the very least we can put a tarp snuggly over the singer's head until specialist equipment from the US is flown in.'
One bone of contention has always been the poor old mage having to resort to crossbows (hell slings in 1st/2nd edition) once their puny array of spells was expended at lower levels. It frequently lead to metagaming 'we now rest' exercises which isn't very dramatic or heroic. Of course the trade off always was that if you got your magic-user/mage/wizard to a high enough level that rarely became a problem because of the sheer amount of power you were cooking with gas with.
Okay so here's a fix. Make up a bunch of level 1 spells that can be used at will over a long duration. This is off the top of my head mind you so here we go.
Force Strike; Evocation [Force]; Level: Sorcerer/Wizard (1), Components: V, S, Casting Time: 1 standard action, Range: Medium (100ft + 10 ft per level), Effect: ray, Duration: Instant / 8 hours - see notes, Saving Throw: None, Spell Resistance: Yes; During the duration of the spell the wizard is able at will as a standard action fire a force ray at a target (ranged touch attack) for 1d4 damage (the spell has a crit multiplier of x2). This spell may be augmented through a special feat called Augment Force Strike which adds 2 to hit and 2 to damage when using this spell and increases the duration to 24 hours when cast (counts as a Metamagic feat).
So this is like a weapon attack except as a ranged touch attack it is superior since it ignores armour, but does lowish damage to compensate for that. It has a decent range - but not too monty haul. And the Wizzy can augment the spell with a special Metamagic feat to make it an even more decent attack. So Mr 1st level PC can be an active combat participant for 8 hours a day. Neato - and not too powerful and if they take the feat they effectively always have a kewl magic attack they can rely on.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Feather = something to read when you're stuck on the great white phone and trying to pass a fist sized nugget of poo pain.
Black Eye = when you misjudge your waistband on your PJs and cause the stream to miss the bowl...
Still, a shiny cover. So it was mostly wipeable.
Friday, June 13, 2008
I'm sure their services are at least average. Their ads are breath takingly shit however.
Mind you I just mentioned their name. So whose laughing now?
Unfortunately the media are extremely self referential. They like to tag any political scandal with the suffix of gate to sex it up. Irangate for Iran contra (which was a fair enough near approximation of Watergate levels in terms of what went on) to Zipper gate (which clearly the fuck was not but in its defence it was labeled so in a tongue in cheek manner). I think there was a Squiggygate which had something to do with Charles/Di/man-woman-he's-now-with as well.
Della Bosca has stood aside while the drunken night at some place called Iguana while out with the misses gets raked over the media coals and the cops stick their sticky beak in. Liberals across the country are likely flogging themselves in glee over it.
So ... what to call this?
You guessed it.
Look a drunken night out where tempers flared and some he said / she said stuff went down between a patron and staff is not the fucking equivalent of fucking Watergate. It's not even up there with fucking Zippergate. It's not a fucking gate!
Whichever subbie thought this was clever move needs to get their ___ impaled on an ornate gate until they learn that you just can't whack gate on the end of anything for a headline.
Bush and Cheney et al single handedly ruined the US's reputation on human rights with this shit. Nice to see that even with a court stacked with conservatives the justices are willing to, I don't know, uphold the law.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
What a pack of chunts.
Brandis is an incredible twat. Howling on about the "Neal Affair". I'm surprised he hasn't tried to whack a gate on the end. 'Six people spontaneously signed stat decs as to her bad behaviour' he just bellowed.
Spontaneous eh? All witnessed by a Liberal party official. Very spontaneous...
At that point he hosed me down with a tremendous fire hose-esq milky vom of staggering proportions. It not only soaked through my shirt it picked the gap between buttons and ran down and into my pants.
I had to kind of do this stroke victim walk out into the laundry to disrobe the vomit soaked shirt and trousers.
Poor little tacker.
It was really acidy too. I nearly let go myself just as I got in the shower when I realised it was in my hair as well.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
I have worked out a grammatically correct way to use It's in the possessive with apostrophe intact.
AHAHAHAHAHAHA! (cue lightning).
Are you ready?
Bunch up little ones. Let HM show you the way by way of an example conversation.
'Whose is that?'
'Oh that's It's.'
'It's? You mean in the possessive?'
'Why Cousin It's!'
Thank you Addams family.
Please to be scanning text and crying on that one. I rule intensive care.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Fucking hell. When journalists become opinionists their ability to be objective really flies out of the window.
Penberthy's defence is 'oh it wasn't judgmental. It was just water cooler. And yeah some of the online comments [where they called her a slut] in retrospect should have been taken down earlier...'
Fucking hell Penberthy is scum. He's managed to make the Daily Telegraph even lower in rent - were that possible.
I was taking the plate for the sink drop zone when theWife stopped me. 'No, no' she said. 'Let's send that to the dishwasher'. She then pointed at said dishwasher with Shooter McGavins.
Ah Shooter McGavins. It's like pointing, but fun!
PS Shooter McGavin fingers are when you extend your index and middle fingers out and curl the rest of the fingers in then wave your hands around like pistols.
I have 'em. Not all of my reg worns get names though. Currently I have 'Inspector Gadgets" - which is the name applied to the three identical black pinstriped shirts I got last year which I usually wear at least one of during a working work. There's "monky", as in monk-like not Simian-esq, because it sort of feels and looks like a buttoned cassock. There's "Stainy McStain", a T shirt (getting a little tight now being three tree rings ago) I wear to bed which has a stain that looks a lot like a Mongolian spot. Whenever I wear "Stainy McStain" I sing out "I'm wearing a Shir-ert!' and force theWife to say "Stainy McStain".
Lately I've started naming theWife's clothes as well. Only instead of embracing this charming affectation she has rejected it, finding this applied naming annoying.
I think it's because the first item of hers I named, a lovely blue shirt with embroidered gold threads on the sleeves, was "Sergeant Pepper".
In my defence it really does look like something from the seminal album cover. Mind you I have to admit that the circumstances of the naming were exacerbated in the negative when theNoo projectile vomited on theWife with some hideous Lentil/Milk combo and I remarked "Oh no, he got Sergeant Pepper!".
Left: Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart Club Band ... pre vom.
Have you names for your oft-worn clothing? If so, share.
Oh, I just remembered another one. "Dandruff magnet". Pretty much self explanatory really.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
It's just like when Homer taught an adult evening class and started driving through traffic ignoring right of way claiming 'make way, I have a class to teach.'
Thanks Little Golden Books for teaching my son so well.