Recapped By Darzelle Wixton-Smythe, Who Isn’t Reading The Twilight Series Because Vampires Don’t Believe In Self-Tanning.
Alison’s getting killed. No she isn’t. Yes she is. No she isn’t. Let’s all have a cry.
That’s the short version hahahahaha! The longer version just has more swearwords, luggage and boobs in it.
The supply of drugs from Asia is becoming more erratic (like erratic fiction, or that old song by Madonna), because Merrick Watts is mixing his icing sugar with lower quality sugar or something. I don’t really get drugs. I’m high on life and accessories.
Bob Trimboli and Alison go to visit Matthew Newton in the museum he lives in in London. Alison spends most of her time at the Crying In The Bathroom exhibit. Matthew Newton tells Bob that he wants both Lesbian Courier Kay and Alison killed, but Bob doesn’t want to kill Alison, maybe because he thinks Rangas are an endangered species, but he should take a look at my General Studies class because it’s like a freckle bomb went off in there LOL! Anyway, Alison comes out of the loo and then panics and goes back in, and Bob says it must be that time of the month. I dunno – is there a time of the month when people get scared they’re going to be murdered and chopped up?
Hot Bitch Lawyer is like, living with Matthew Newton now, and he pashes her right in front of Alison and then sends her shopping. She comes back later all mad because he brushed her, but he’s sitting in the dark smoking a cigarette watching home movies of his son and crying. Stupid Hot Bitch Lawyer stands in front of the screen and takes her clothes off, because everybody wants to see videos of their son superimposed onto their girlfriend’s boobs. Matthew Newton cries into her cleavage, and she says “I love you”, and I’m all like if you love him, get out of the way of the video, you dumb slag.
George Freeman has a bandage around his head from when he got shot, and everyone comes to visit him and bring him presents, including a couple of members of the Fugly Squad plus Dieter Brummer, who’s now as chatty as all anything. The police commissioner sends a stripper dressed as a policewoman, and she’s all nude and rubbing up against him, and he goes “Watch the wound, love”, and I go “Everybody is!”, but I don’t think mum got it.
Bob Trimboli askes The Mumbler Chris Flannery to kill Alison and pays him a deposit, so he goes to her house with a fern and a shovel. The Fugly Squad turn up just in time, and search her house and plant some drugs in her mank fur coat. It’s like a thousand manks died just so she could be warm and arrested.
Matthew Newton asks Scottish Napoleon Dynamite to kill Merrick Watts because of the bad sugar and most probably because of the whole socks-with-sandals thing. The script makes Matthew Newton say the word “intercontinental” with a Kiwi accent, which makes me fall in love with it a bit. They meet Merrick in a nudie bar, and Merrick says he’s picking up some very aggressive vibrations, but I think he’s just standing too close to the pole. Scottish Napoleon Dynamite drives Merrick out into some trees and Merrick gets out to do a wee and get shot in the head. A nation of radio listeners cheers.
Bob Trimboli gives Alison a fake passport and tells her she should leave the country so she doesn’t get killed, right before The Mumbler turns up and threatens Bob with a soup ladle. A fern and then a ladle. Dude needs to buy a gun or something.
Hot Bitch Lawyer wins a bunch of money at a casino, so Matthew Newton asks her to marry him. She says yes even though she can see his gross hairy chest because she’s drunk or something, and then she cries, because she’s just agreed to marry Matthew Newton. It’s pretty confusing.
George Freeman finds out who shoots him, and it’s the stepfather of the girl that Freeman had sex with last week. The Stepfather complains to a prostitute about how short the head job she gave him is, which I think is unfair because I reckon that’s at least partly his fault. Anyway he has another sort of head job to worry about hahahaha! Because he gets shot. In the head. Shut up, that’s funny.
It looks like next week Matthew Newton gets arrested, Alison’s hair gets really big, and there are lots of pictures of Bob Trimboli’s face. I’ll see you then – I’ve got homework to do. Ha! Kidding.
.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Gettin' Scraggy With It.
Have you ever prised some fluff out of your belly-button, peeled a pore-strip off your nose, or gouged disturbing smears of gunk out of your ears with a cotton bud? It’s nasty, but you can’t look away. You don’t want anybody else to know you do it, even though you’re sure they do as well. And the longer you go without doing it, the juicier, dirtier, and more satisfying it is.
On April 28th, after what seems like a lifetime, Australia’s Next Top Model returns to our screens. This show is the discoloured ear-wax of our lives, and I’ve never been happier to be a piece of absorbent cotton-on-a-stick. Or take a metaphor to its revolting limit. Mmmmm. Ears. Sarah Murdoch as the new host can only mean one thing – I won’t have a speech impediment to pick on this year. Damn.
As usual, I’ve been checking out this year’s bunch of modules in the Foxtel magazine and on the show’s website , only this year there seems to be less information available than ever before about each scraggy specimen.
Which pretty much means I just get to make more stuff up. Below are my customary fabricated predictions, based on nothing more than first impressions and, according to some comments on the equivalent post a while ago, a giant chip on my shoulder and a fat, lazy arse. If you’ve arrived here after Googling yourself, feel free to leave a comment telling me how wrong my predictions are. Sound out each word slowly, and ask a grown-up for help.
Here goes:
Laura Mitchell – 20 – WA
Good Stuff: Lined up twice for femurs. Ridiculously perfect face.
Bad Stuff: Doesn’t look like the top floor is occupied, kna mean? Has emotional dial permanently set to ‘haughty’.
Prediction: Will have all the range of a stale doughnut, and think any criticism is really just a compliment.
Clare Vanema – 16 – SA
Good Stuff: Porcelain skin. Flowing locks. Chin-dimple.
Bad Stuff: All the sexiness of a paper plate. Always looks like she’s just forgotten something. Surname sounds like a body-part that can only be seen with a hand-mirror.
Prediction: Quiet at first, only coming out of her shell at the sign of the first food-fight. Doesn’t like anyone touching her things.
Georgie Kidman – 16 – VIC
Good Stuff: Doesn’t look 16, and has a bit of a raw, rock edge to her.
Bad Stuff: Mouth hangs open. Has the same surname as Keith Urban’s husband.
Prediction: Normal, down-to-earth girl who swears like a brickie and talks about periods.
Cassi Van Den Dungen – 16 – VIC
Good Stuff: Completely adorable. Could model bunny wabbits and doggie-wogs.
Bad Stuff: Has the word “dung” in her otherwise-fun-to-say name.
Prediction: Makes it to the top three. Draws unicorns in the margins of her portfolio.
Leah Johnson – 18 – VIC
Good Stuff: Big bedroom eyes that can probably undo zippers from 20 feet. Long, thick hair that has probably been stuck in zippers before.
Bad Stuff: Has mouth frozen in ‘cat’s bum’ formation.
Prediction: Sneaks out at night to drink scotch, smoke Camels, and dance the Tango.
Adele Theil – 18 – NSW
Good Stuff: Bloody nice hair. Legs and arms forever.
Bad Stuff: There’s something going on where her nose meets her forehead. I might get used to it. I might not.
Prediction: Sneers at the faintest suggestion of man-made fabrics. Sits alone in a corner, sipping derisively on hot water with lemon.
Madison Wall – 17 – QLD
Good Stuff: Eyes like a cross between a hot tiger and another, hotter tiger.
Bad Stuff: More like your pretty girl down the beach than a model. Possibly harbouring a small marine eco-system in her hair.
Prediction: Won’t be able to follow direction in photo-shoots because she’s dreaming of the ocean. Devastated by her make-over.
Mikarla Hussey
Good Stuff: Has a surname sent to me by the gods. Illegally high cheekbones. Could make toilet paper look sexy.
Bad Stuff: Looks like she’s sucking steak through a straw.
Prediction: Won’t make it past week three because she can’t turn off porn-face.
Lola Van Vorst - 20 - NSW
Good Stuff: Outrageously symmetrical. Smokin’ hair. Tall-ta-ta-tall tall. Hot-ha-ha-hot-hot.
Bad Stuff: Mean mouth and no neck. Looks like she’s defending herself against an all-chin attack.
Prediction: Has trouble keeping the Crying Little Girl Inside inside. Leaves to become a surgeon.
Eloise Hoile – 20 – SA
Good Stuff: Best and longest legs in entire world. Looks like Bundchen. Tall, like a giraffe.
Bad Stuff: Face. Like a giraffe. Something just whispers ruminant, is all.
Prediction: Loud and bossy, but doesn’t do well in shoots until it’s swimsuit time. At which point she will Kick. Arse.
Tahnee Atkinson – 16 – WA
Good Stuff: Sweet, sweet face and what looks like incredible hair.
Bad Stuff: I’ve already seen too much of her teeth. Put them away.
Prediction: Needs simple concepts like breathing explained slowly to her, with the help of diagrams and puppets.
Franky Okpara = 18 – WA
Good Stuff: Shut up with that body and skin.
Bad Stuff: Looks hard as nails. Is daring you to photograph her.
Prediction: Mean. Rolls eyes a lot. Stabs finger in other people’s chests to prove point a lot. Scares me a lot.
Laura Tyrie – 18 – WA
Good Stuff: Fah-reakin’ gorgeous.
Bad Stuff: Little bit short. Also… um… might conjugate some verbs incorrectly? Dunno.
Prediction: Winner. New best friend.
So there you have it. I hope you come along for the ride with me this year – I’ve got ten months’ worth of bottled up bitchy and a very flimsy cork. Get a glass. End metaphor. Wheeeee!
.
On April 28th, after what seems like a lifetime, Australia’s Next Top Model returns to our screens. This show is the discoloured ear-wax of our lives, and I’ve never been happier to be a piece of absorbent cotton-on-a-stick. Or take a metaphor to its revolting limit. Mmmmm. Ears. Sarah Murdoch as the new host can only mean one thing – I won’t have a speech impediment to pick on this year. Damn.
As usual, I’ve been checking out this year’s bunch of modules in the Foxtel magazine and on the show’s website , only this year there seems to be less information available than ever before about each scraggy specimen.
Which pretty much means I just get to make more stuff up. Below are my customary fabricated predictions, based on nothing more than first impressions and, according to some comments on the equivalent post a while ago, a giant chip on my shoulder and a fat, lazy arse. If you’ve arrived here after Googling yourself, feel free to leave a comment telling me how wrong my predictions are. Sound out each word slowly, and ask a grown-up for help.
Here goes:
Laura Mitchell – 20 – WA
Good Stuff: Lined up twice for femurs. Ridiculously perfect face.
Bad Stuff: Doesn’t look like the top floor is occupied, kna mean? Has emotional dial permanently set to ‘haughty’.
Prediction: Will have all the range of a stale doughnut, and think any criticism is really just a compliment.
Clare Vanema – 16 – SA
Good Stuff: Porcelain skin. Flowing locks. Chin-dimple.
Bad Stuff: All the sexiness of a paper plate. Always looks like she’s just forgotten something. Surname sounds like a body-part that can only be seen with a hand-mirror.
Prediction: Quiet at first, only coming out of her shell at the sign of the first food-fight. Doesn’t like anyone touching her things.
Georgie Kidman – 16 – VIC
Good Stuff: Doesn’t look 16, and has a bit of a raw, rock edge to her.
Bad Stuff: Mouth hangs open. Has the same surname as Keith Urban’s husband.
Prediction: Normal, down-to-earth girl who swears like a brickie and talks about periods.
Cassi Van Den Dungen – 16 – VIC
Good Stuff: Completely adorable. Could model bunny wabbits and doggie-wogs.
Bad Stuff: Has the word “dung” in her otherwise-fun-to-say name.
Prediction: Makes it to the top three. Draws unicorns in the margins of her portfolio.
Leah Johnson – 18 – VIC
Good Stuff: Big bedroom eyes that can probably undo zippers from 20 feet. Long, thick hair that has probably been stuck in zippers before.
Bad Stuff: Has mouth frozen in ‘cat’s bum’ formation.
Prediction: Sneaks out at night to drink scotch, smoke Camels, and dance the Tango.
Adele Theil – 18 – NSW
Good Stuff: Bloody nice hair. Legs and arms forever.
Bad Stuff: There’s something going on where her nose meets her forehead. I might get used to it. I might not.
Prediction: Sneers at the faintest suggestion of man-made fabrics. Sits alone in a corner, sipping derisively on hot water with lemon.
Madison Wall – 17 – QLD
Good Stuff: Eyes like a cross between a hot tiger and another, hotter tiger.
Bad Stuff: More like your pretty girl down the beach than a model. Possibly harbouring a small marine eco-system in her hair.
Prediction: Won’t be able to follow direction in photo-shoots because she’s dreaming of the ocean. Devastated by her make-over.
Mikarla Hussey
Good Stuff: Has a surname sent to me by the gods. Illegally high cheekbones. Could make toilet paper look sexy.
Bad Stuff: Looks like she’s sucking steak through a straw.
Prediction: Won’t make it past week three because she can’t turn off porn-face.
Lola Van Vorst - 20 - NSW
Good Stuff: Outrageously symmetrical. Smokin’ hair. Tall-ta-ta-tall tall. Hot-ha-ha-hot-hot.
Bad Stuff: Mean mouth and no neck. Looks like she’s defending herself against an all-chin attack.
Prediction: Has trouble keeping the Crying Little Girl Inside inside. Leaves to become a surgeon.
Eloise Hoile – 20 – SA
Good Stuff: Best and longest legs in entire world. Looks like Bundchen. Tall, like a giraffe.
Bad Stuff: Face. Like a giraffe. Something just whispers ruminant, is all.
Prediction: Loud and bossy, but doesn’t do well in shoots until it’s swimsuit time. At which point she will Kick. Arse.
Tahnee Atkinson – 16 – WA
Good Stuff: Sweet, sweet face and what looks like incredible hair.
Bad Stuff: I’ve already seen too much of her teeth. Put them away.
Prediction: Needs simple concepts like breathing explained slowly to her, with the help of diagrams and puppets.
Franky Okpara = 18 – WA
Good Stuff: Shut up with that body and skin.
Bad Stuff: Looks hard as nails. Is daring you to photograph her.
Prediction: Mean. Rolls eyes a lot. Stabs finger in other people’s chests to prove point a lot. Scares me a lot.
Laura Tyrie – 18 – WA
Good Stuff: Fah-reakin’ gorgeous.
Bad Stuff: Little bit short. Also… um… might conjugate some verbs incorrectly? Dunno.
Prediction: Winner. New best friend.
So there you have it. I hope you come along for the ride with me this year – I’ve got ten months’ worth of bottled up bitchy and a very flimsy cork. Get a glass. End metaphor. Wheeeee!
.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Underbelly, A Tale Of Two Cities - Episode Seven
Recapped By Darzelle Wixton-Smythe, Who Thinks Her Dad Would Buy Her Blahniks If He Really Loved Her.
OMG. I can’t believe they finally gave Dieter Brummer a line. For the last eight million episodes, he’s all like “I’m here, I’m in a fugly shirt, I’ve got a little porn moustache, I’m playing your dark brown seventies game – why do you just get me to stand around making concerned faces? I have a voice! I WAS ON HOME AND AWAY!!”. But more of that later.
Alison reminisces about her time with Matthew Newton. She thinks there might be a tiny problem with their relationship, which she hopes to work out once he’s back from London where he’s living with his girlfriend and son and wanking over photos of his Hot Bitch Lawyer. All Alison has left in Sydney is a big house, a thriving drug business, a crew of lesbian couriers and a boss who farts in her Grotty Capri whenever she pulls his finger. She goes shopping, goes dancing, and shows Kay how big Little Mr Asia is.
Freeman helps one of his friends by minding his girlfriend for him so her stepfather doesn’t beat her up. Freeman tries get her into bed by offering her some money, but she’s not a prostitute, so she just has sex with him for chocolate. Afterwards she asks him if he wants her to do anything special, and he says ‘maybe later’. Maybe she wants to give him some chocolate, I dunno.
The Hot Cop Squad go to Sydney to investigate some other uglier, more corrupt cops, and the Fugly Squad decide they need to shut down some of Freeman’s casinos so they look more honest. Dieter Brummer is there but he doesn’t say anything.
Two of the Fugly Squad play golf with Freeman to tell him that they’ll be shutting down some of his casinos, and they lose money by playing golf badly – a bit like how some of the girls at school lose boyfriends by dressing badly. See? I’m totally starting to understand this organised crime stuff hahahaha! Dieter Brummer is there but he doesn’t say anything.
One of the lesbian couriers gets caught at the airport, so Bob Trimboli sends Alison and Kay home to do the washing up. They flush all the icing sugar just in time for the Fugly Squad to come knocking on the door, including a guy called Smith who totally needs some volumising hair clay and probably a breath mint. He’s cross that he can’t find any drugs in the house, even thought it was obvious that someone was high when they picked the furniture. He tells Alison that the parents of drug addicts would want to spit in her face, but then he goes off on some tangent about wanting a sex change or something, and tells her he needs a big bust. This freaks Alison out. I don’t blame her.
In a nudie bar, Freeman talks to some of the Fugly Squad including Dieter Brummer. Dieter stays quiet until Freeman tells him he owes him fifteen hundred dollars for playing bad golf, and then Dieter says “That’s four weeks’ pay!”, and I’m all like wow. Dude. Even Muffin Break pays better than that.
Matthew Newton tries to call Alison but she just sits there with her hands over her ears, trying to get the image of Detective Smith’s big bust out of her head. Matthew Newton’s girlfriend tells him that she’s sick of living in the entrance hall of a museum, and that she’s going back to New Zealand. He calls her sneaky butch and threatens to kill her and stares at her a lot.
Bob Trimboli is cross with Freeman for fixing a horse race. The Fugly Squad are cross with Freeman for fixing a horse race. The guy I sort of mentioned before is cross with Freeman for banging his girlfriend after she banged his gun. Dieter Brummer is cross with Freeman because he lost a coin flipping game with him. I’m cross with Freeman for wearing white suits and gold chains, which is totally fair enough I reckon. One of us hires someone to shoot him in the head, bleed all over his suit and go for a walk in the garden.
Matthew Newton puts on some sunglasses like he’s Horatio Caine, and then pashes his Hot Bitch Lawyer like he’s not.
Next week, Alison gets arrested, somebody gets a plastic bag over their head, and nobody puts a paper bag over Merrick’s head, which is obviously a shame.
I'll see you later. I have to go bleach stuff.
OMG. I can’t believe they finally gave Dieter Brummer a line. For the last eight million episodes, he’s all like “I’m here, I’m in a fugly shirt, I’ve got a little porn moustache, I’m playing your dark brown seventies game – why do you just get me to stand around making concerned faces? I have a voice! I WAS ON HOME AND AWAY!!”. But more of that later.
Alison reminisces about her time with Matthew Newton. She thinks there might be a tiny problem with their relationship, which she hopes to work out once he’s back from London where he’s living with his girlfriend and son and wanking over photos of his Hot Bitch Lawyer. All Alison has left in Sydney is a big house, a thriving drug business, a crew of lesbian couriers and a boss who farts in her Grotty Capri whenever she pulls his finger. She goes shopping, goes dancing, and shows Kay how big Little Mr Asia is.
Freeman helps one of his friends by minding his girlfriend for him so her stepfather doesn’t beat her up. Freeman tries get her into bed by offering her some money, but she’s not a prostitute, so she just has sex with him for chocolate. Afterwards she asks him if he wants her to do anything special, and he says ‘maybe later’. Maybe she wants to give him some chocolate, I dunno.
The Hot Cop Squad go to Sydney to investigate some other uglier, more corrupt cops, and the Fugly Squad decide they need to shut down some of Freeman’s casinos so they look more honest. Dieter Brummer is there but he doesn’t say anything.
Two of the Fugly Squad play golf with Freeman to tell him that they’ll be shutting down some of his casinos, and they lose money by playing golf badly – a bit like how some of the girls at school lose boyfriends by dressing badly. See? I’m totally starting to understand this organised crime stuff hahahaha! Dieter Brummer is there but he doesn’t say anything.
One of the lesbian couriers gets caught at the airport, so Bob Trimboli sends Alison and Kay home to do the washing up. They flush all the icing sugar just in time for the Fugly Squad to come knocking on the door, including a guy called Smith who totally needs some volumising hair clay and probably a breath mint. He’s cross that he can’t find any drugs in the house, even thought it was obvious that someone was high when they picked the furniture. He tells Alison that the parents of drug addicts would want to spit in her face, but then he goes off on some tangent about wanting a sex change or something, and tells her he needs a big bust. This freaks Alison out. I don’t blame her.
In a nudie bar, Freeman talks to some of the Fugly Squad including Dieter Brummer. Dieter stays quiet until Freeman tells him he owes him fifteen hundred dollars for playing bad golf, and then Dieter says “That’s four weeks’ pay!”, and I’m all like wow. Dude. Even Muffin Break pays better than that.
Matthew Newton tries to call Alison but she just sits there with her hands over her ears, trying to get the image of Detective Smith’s big bust out of her head. Matthew Newton’s girlfriend tells him that she’s sick of living in the entrance hall of a museum, and that she’s going back to New Zealand. He calls her sneaky butch and threatens to kill her and stares at her a lot.
Bob Trimboli is cross with Freeman for fixing a horse race. The Fugly Squad are cross with Freeman for fixing a horse race. The guy I sort of mentioned before is cross with Freeman for banging his girlfriend after she banged his gun. Dieter Brummer is cross with Freeman because he lost a coin flipping game with him. I’m cross with Freeman for wearing white suits and gold chains, which is totally fair enough I reckon. One of us hires someone to shoot him in the head, bleed all over his suit and go for a walk in the garden.
Matthew Newton puts on some sunglasses like he’s Horatio Caine, and then pashes his Hot Bitch Lawyer like he’s not.
Next week, Alison gets arrested, somebody gets a plastic bag over their head, and nobody puts a paper bag over Merrick’s head, which is obviously a shame.
I'll see you later. I have to go bleach stuff.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Horn.
My mum plays flute in a really good community orchestra, and I went to her concert on Sunday night.
It was packed, so I had to sit right up the front. My view was only blocked by an odd stand contraption in front of me that had a little pouch hooked to it – I had no idea what it was, but it was about a foot and a half away.
The program included a Trumpet Concerto, and mum was telling me beforehand about the soloist, Ken, who joined the orchestra when he was thirteen, and is now eighteen and really good-looking. She was just mentioning it.
I’ve been going to mum’s concerts for years, so I remember what Ken looked like as a young teenager – a bit awkward and funny looking.
Then it's time for the solo, and out walks Adonis: The Musical. He’s freakin' gorgeous. Because I'm in the front row, he's practically standing right in front of me, and I’m trying not to ogle him because he’s eighteen and I’m… well, not. Shut up.
Anyway, the concerto finishes, and Mum comes to have a quick chat with me during interval.
The conversation goes something like this:
Jo: "You're not kidding, mum. He's gorgeous! I was trying not to stare".
Jo's Mum: "I told you! He plays jazz as well - he's in a couple of different groups".
Jo: "Well, now he's eighteen and can play in clubs, he'll be able to take home any girl in the audience, any night of the week".
Jo's Mum: "Definitely. I hope his mum's had 'the talk' with him. I suppose he'd just ignore her, though".
Jo: "As long as he listened to the part about condoms, he'll be fine".
We laughed, and then Mum got up to get ready for the second half.
That's when Ken the hot soloist's grandpa walked up the front, went towards the weird pouch-on-a-stand thing, took a recording device out of it, and pressed 'stop'.
Ken's grandparents now have a recording of their grandson's solo, plus a recording of two chicks talking about how much sex he's going to have now he's eighteen.
Nice.
It was packed, so I had to sit right up the front. My view was only blocked by an odd stand contraption in front of me that had a little pouch hooked to it – I had no idea what it was, but it was about a foot and a half away.
The program included a Trumpet Concerto, and mum was telling me beforehand about the soloist, Ken, who joined the orchestra when he was thirteen, and is now eighteen and really good-looking. She was just mentioning it.
I’ve been going to mum’s concerts for years, so I remember what Ken looked like as a young teenager – a bit awkward and funny looking.
Then it's time for the solo, and out walks Adonis: The Musical. He’s freakin' gorgeous. Because I'm in the front row, he's practically standing right in front of me, and I’m trying not to ogle him because he’s eighteen and I’m… well, not. Shut up.
Anyway, the concerto finishes, and Mum comes to have a quick chat with me during interval.
The conversation goes something like this:
Jo: "You're not kidding, mum. He's gorgeous! I was trying not to stare".
Jo's Mum: "I told you! He plays jazz as well - he's in a couple of different groups".
Jo: "Well, now he's eighteen and can play in clubs, he'll be able to take home any girl in the audience, any night of the week".
Jo's Mum: "Definitely. I hope his mum's had 'the talk' with him. I suppose he'd just ignore her, though".
Jo: "As long as he listened to the part about condoms, he'll be fine".
We laughed, and then Mum got up to get ready for the second half.
That's when Ken the hot soloist's grandpa walked up the front, went towards the weird pouch-on-a-stand thing, took a recording device out of it, and pressed 'stop'.
Ken's grandparents now have a recording of their grandson's solo, plus a recording of two chicks talking about how much sex he's going to have now he's eighteen.
Nice.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Keeping Me Up At Night #11
If Mortein is supposed to be so good, how did Louie The Fly live to be nearly sixty?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Underbelly, A Tale Of Two Cities - Episode Six
Recapped By Darzelle Wixton-Smythe, Who Thinks She Should Have the Day Off School Because Her Hair Straightener Is Broken.
Even the dogs have stupid fugly hair on this show. It’s like nobody had mirrors or smoothing serum in the Seventies.
Anyway, when he was killing Doug and Uzzy, Fred the Hitman didn’t do a lot of things. He didn’t bury them deep enough. He didn’t put them through a meat grinder. He didn’t leave the car at the airport. Most of all, he didn’t kill the dog, and didn’t make sure his own poodle didn’t look like a frizzy minger. I think Fred the Hitman might be gay, because he carries a handbag.
Matthew Newton wakes up with a jerk, but it’s just Alison. He drives her out into the sticks and she thinks he wants to kill her because he doesn’t like her in floral, but it turns out he’s got a buried stash of icing sugar and he wants her to know where it is. I say draw a map, save some petrol, but whatever. Alison is really relieved and Matthew Newton pashes her right there in the bush.
Bob Trimboli has to wee a lot in this episode and he sees the doctor about it, but I don’t think the doctor is very good, because he smokes and examines Bob from the wrong side. Doctor BumFinger sets up a drug deal between Bob and a guy with a bad panel van called Michael Hurley, but the fugly cops and Dieter Brummer find the drugs and arrest him. If the panel van had been rocking, he might have been okay.
Matthew Newton wants to only sell drugs in Asia now so that his nickname makes more sense, so he offers Bob Trimboli the Australian part of his business. It’s sort of a franchise like Avon, because they knock on your door and sell you powder you could totally get at half the price overseas.
Matthew Newton has Alison for lunch and knocks her oranges off the table. They have six. There’s a knock on the door, and it’s Bob Trimboli but he’s not selling Avon hahaha! He’s just there to tell Alison that he’s her boss now, and to use the toilet.
Bob, Michael Hurley and Doctor BumFinger don’t get in trouble for the panel van drugs because they have a crooked judge with man-boobs who used to be a policeman at Mount Thomas. People don’t really trust his judgement and I don’t blame them because he seems to think it was the right thing to do to wear a tracksuit.
Matthew Newton meets Scottish Napoleon Dynamite in a bar in Singapore and decides to stay there for good because there’s just as many places to get a drink with nude ladies in the background. Alison finds out and multi-tasks by both making drugs and crying salty tears of regret.
Axl Whitehead goes running with his dog and finds Doug and Uzzy’s spooning corpses. Lady Gaga is there, but she quits her job so she can join the Commonwealth Hot Squad which only lets in good-looking cops by luring them with roast beef sandwiches.
Bob Trimboli asks the Griffith Mafia if they want to buy the Australian side of Matthew Newton’s business and shows them a sample of the drugs, which must be strong because everyone’s so high they see fifty dollar notes flying around in the air.
Next week some people go to London, some people go to jail, and I’m guessing Bob Trimboli goes to the toilet.
Just as long as there's no more dogs.
.
Even the dogs have stupid fugly hair on this show. It’s like nobody had mirrors or smoothing serum in the Seventies.
Anyway, when he was killing Doug and Uzzy, Fred the Hitman didn’t do a lot of things. He didn’t bury them deep enough. He didn’t put them through a meat grinder. He didn’t leave the car at the airport. Most of all, he didn’t kill the dog, and didn’t make sure his own poodle didn’t look like a frizzy minger. I think Fred the Hitman might be gay, because he carries a handbag.
Matthew Newton wakes up with a jerk, but it’s just Alison. He drives her out into the sticks and she thinks he wants to kill her because he doesn’t like her in floral, but it turns out he’s got a buried stash of icing sugar and he wants her to know where it is. I say draw a map, save some petrol, but whatever. Alison is really relieved and Matthew Newton pashes her right there in the bush.
Bob Trimboli has to wee a lot in this episode and he sees the doctor about it, but I don’t think the doctor is very good, because he smokes and examines Bob from the wrong side. Doctor BumFinger sets up a drug deal between Bob and a guy with a bad panel van called Michael Hurley, but the fugly cops and Dieter Brummer find the drugs and arrest him. If the panel van had been rocking, he might have been okay.
Matthew Newton wants to only sell drugs in Asia now so that his nickname makes more sense, so he offers Bob Trimboli the Australian part of his business. It’s sort of a franchise like Avon, because they knock on your door and sell you powder you could totally get at half the price overseas.
Matthew Newton has Alison for lunch and knocks her oranges off the table. They have six. There’s a knock on the door, and it’s Bob Trimboli but he’s not selling Avon hahaha! He’s just there to tell Alison that he’s her boss now, and to use the toilet.
Bob, Michael Hurley and Doctor BumFinger don’t get in trouble for the panel van drugs because they have a crooked judge with man-boobs who used to be a policeman at Mount Thomas. People don’t really trust his judgement and I don’t blame them because he seems to think it was the right thing to do to wear a tracksuit.
Matthew Newton meets Scottish Napoleon Dynamite in a bar in Singapore and decides to stay there for good because there’s just as many places to get a drink with nude ladies in the background. Alison finds out and multi-tasks by both making drugs and crying salty tears of regret.
Axl Whitehead goes running with his dog and finds Doug and Uzzy’s spooning corpses. Lady Gaga is there, but she quits her job so she can join the Commonwealth Hot Squad which only lets in good-looking cops by luring them with roast beef sandwiches.
Bob Trimboli asks the Griffith Mafia if they want to buy the Australian side of Matthew Newton’s business and shows them a sample of the drugs, which must be strong because everyone’s so high they see fifty dollar notes flying around in the air.
Next week some people go to London, some people go to jail, and I’m guessing Bob Trimboli goes to the toilet.
Just as long as there's no more dogs.
.
Friday, March 13, 2009
I Look Like A Monkey, And I Smell Like One Too.
This 'blog is three years old today.
If it was a human, it would have a full set of teeth and occasionally crap in its pants.
Sounds about right.
Send me some love. I quite transparently need some.
If it was a human, it would have a full set of teeth and occasionally crap in its pants.
Sounds about right.
Send me some love. I quite transparently need some.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Underbelly, A Tale Of Two Cities - Episode 5
Recapped By Darzelle Wixton-Smythe, Who Isn’t Allowed To Go To L.A. And Marry Zac Efron Because Her Mum Is A Bitch.
This week is mostly about Kiwis and drugs and jail, with special guest boobs. Everyone’s tired all the time except for Matthew Newton, who looks like he’s had about four Red Bulls. He should really look into blinking.
Matthew Newton tells his drug couriers that his dad used to sell pies and make peanuts, which seems like a weird combination of jobs, and really hard.
Alison’s ex-boyfriend Wayne gets caught at the airport with a gun, and he dobs on Matthew Newton, so Matthew Newton takes him out to the bush for a game of cricket. Wayne doesn’t want to take his turn, so he says he has to go to the toilet, which is what boys do when they don’t want to do sport because they can’t say they’ve got their period. Matthew Newton gets all cross that Wayne won’t play, and bashes him with the bat until all his bones are broken. Bad light stops play, so they go home except they forget Wayne.
Doug and Uzzy Wilson are some couriers too, and it’s another case of hot girl going out with fugly guy – she has great hair and good shorts, but he has a gay moustache and fifteen hundred thousand mank shirts. Maybe he’s got Wii, I don’t know. Anyway they’re both in rehab for addiction to lollies, but Matthew Newton and Alison smuggle some in.
Bob Trimboli keeps buying cassettes from The Police, probably because he doesn’t have iTunes.
Matthew Newton, the Wilsons, and Scottish Napoleon Dynamite go to Queensland, but they get arrested for impersonating old politicians, having drugs and guns, and keeping the ugliest dog in the world in a hotel room. Doug dobs on Matthew Newton, so he and Uzzy are set free, but Matthew Newton has to go back to New Zealand. He has a Hot Bitch Lawyer who helps him go free, and he calls Alison who says “You got off! I can’t believe it!”, and I’m all really? Because you’ve been having sex with him for like, four weeks, it was going to happen eventually hahaha!
While Matthew Newton is in jail, Alison runs the icing sugar business back in Sydney, and recruits some new young girl couriers by pretending she’s a lesbian, which can only mean more boobs I reckon.
Doug told the police where some bodies that Matthew Newton killed were, and then calls him a huck, and then goes home. He doesn’t have a Wii after all, so he just plays Guitar Hero on a tennis racquet.
Matthew Newton sends Doug and Uzzy to Melbourne so they can go to a motel and get shot. The hit-man from ages ago dumps their bodies and it’s sort of cute because they’re kind of spooning in their shallow bloody grave. I didn’t see the fugly dog there, but I hope he killed it too.
Alison tries on some lingerie while Matthew Newton has sex with Hot Bitch Lawyer, only they try to make it look like he’s having sex with Alison right up until the last minute so it’s a surprise. Matthew Newton accidentally spills his champagne and that’s the end.
Next week there’s less Kiwis because most of them are dead now, but more old people. Matthew Newton expands internationally, so I guess he should stop eating so much Chinese food, or maybe that’s why they call him Mr Asia hahahaha! Shut up.
.
This week is mostly about Kiwis and drugs and jail, with special guest boobs. Everyone’s tired all the time except for Matthew Newton, who looks like he’s had about four Red Bulls. He should really look into blinking.
Matthew Newton tells his drug couriers that his dad used to sell pies and make peanuts, which seems like a weird combination of jobs, and really hard.
Alison’s ex-boyfriend Wayne gets caught at the airport with a gun, and he dobs on Matthew Newton, so Matthew Newton takes him out to the bush for a game of cricket. Wayne doesn’t want to take his turn, so he says he has to go to the toilet, which is what boys do when they don’t want to do sport because they can’t say they’ve got their period. Matthew Newton gets all cross that Wayne won’t play, and bashes him with the bat until all his bones are broken. Bad light stops play, so they go home except they forget Wayne.
Doug and Uzzy Wilson are some couriers too, and it’s another case of hot girl going out with fugly guy – she has great hair and good shorts, but he has a gay moustache and fifteen hundred thousand mank shirts. Maybe he’s got Wii, I don’t know. Anyway they’re both in rehab for addiction to lollies, but Matthew Newton and Alison smuggle some in.
Bob Trimboli keeps buying cassettes from The Police, probably because he doesn’t have iTunes.
Matthew Newton, the Wilsons, and Scottish Napoleon Dynamite go to Queensland, but they get arrested for impersonating old politicians, having drugs and guns, and keeping the ugliest dog in the world in a hotel room. Doug dobs on Matthew Newton, so he and Uzzy are set free, but Matthew Newton has to go back to New Zealand. He has a Hot Bitch Lawyer who helps him go free, and he calls Alison who says “You got off! I can’t believe it!”, and I’m all really? Because you’ve been having sex with him for like, four weeks, it was going to happen eventually hahaha!
While Matthew Newton is in jail, Alison runs the icing sugar business back in Sydney, and recruits some new young girl couriers by pretending she’s a lesbian, which can only mean more boobs I reckon.
Doug told the police where some bodies that Matthew Newton killed were, and then calls him a huck, and then goes home. He doesn’t have a Wii after all, so he just plays Guitar Hero on a tennis racquet.
Matthew Newton sends Doug and Uzzy to Melbourne so they can go to a motel and get shot. The hit-man from ages ago dumps their bodies and it’s sort of cute because they’re kind of spooning in their shallow bloody grave. I didn’t see the fugly dog there, but I hope he killed it too.
Alison tries on some lingerie while Matthew Newton has sex with Hot Bitch Lawyer, only they try to make it look like he’s having sex with Alison right up until the last minute so it’s a surprise. Matthew Newton accidentally spills his champagne and that’s the end.
Next week there’s less Kiwis because most of them are dead now, but more old people. Matthew Newton expands internationally, so I guess he should stop eating so much Chinese food, or maybe that’s why they call him Mr Asia hahahaha! Shut up.
.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
A Vote For Them Is A Vote For Me (And Giant Stylised Penises).
You know how you're always wishing I'd ask you to do more stuff?
Well, my talented and worthy compadres in your next favourite band Sierra Fin are Wildcard Finalists in the Garage2V competition, which gives them a chance to play at V Festival.
It's fine. You don't have to know what that means. You just have to click here and throw a vote their way.
If you do that, the chances of the blokes in the band buying me beer increases pretty much tenfold.
And y'all know how I feel about beer, homies.
.
Well, my talented and worthy compadres in your next favourite band Sierra Fin are Wildcard Finalists in the Garage2V competition, which gives them a chance to play at V Festival.
It's fine. You don't have to know what that means. You just have to click here and throw a vote their way.
If you do that, the chances of the blokes in the band buying me beer increases pretty much tenfold.
And y'all know how I feel about beer, homies.
.
Underbelly, A Tale Of Two Cities - Episode 4
Recapped By Darzelle Wixton-Smythe, In Between A Maths Class And An Intensive Cuticle-Reduction Session.
This show is getting really hard to follow, so I figured if you’re as confused as I am, which is even more confused than the Jonas Brothers are, it’s probably time I got you all caught up with the characters. Any I’ve left out probably don’t matter, and the actors probably just knew the director or something.
Matthew Newton
AKA Tirry, AKA Mr Asia, AKA Big-Head-Bluey-Starey-Eyes. Has lots of sex with Alison because she’s clever, and looks at people a lot. Has just worked out how to smuggle icing sugar in suitcases, and gets cross when he’s invited to dinner but dinner’s not ready yet.
Alison
Alison is a person attached to some boobs and some pretty good hair. She goes overseas a lot for a kindy teacher.
Robert Trimboli
Trimboli gives out sandwiches and passports, and likes to gamble. He also likes to have dinner with policemen at fugly restaurants called the Capri something, and gets people arrested at the airport. He’s sort of like a friendly old uncle who imports heroin and has people killed and stuff.
Brian Kane
Kane is angry because he has a bad porn moustache, and because his brother got shot, and because he can’t get anybody to kill the guy who killed his brother. He tries to hide his bad moustache with an even worse beard, and shoots Ray Chuck right in the courthouse.
Sally Fletcher
Sally was married to Les Kane before he got shot, and now she sees all her memories backwards in slow motion. She mostly just looks wistful and cries, I think because she still hasn’t got around to changing her mank wallpaper because she’s been too busy mopping blood off the floor. She needs to get her priorities right hahaha!
Ray Chuck And The Chucky Uggers
Ray and the Uggers go to jail for shooting Les Kane, but because they did such a good job of chopping him up or whatever, they get set free and play soccer. Except Ray gets arrested again for stealing, and makes friends with Chopper Read and then gets shot.
The Mumbler
The Mumbler is a guy called Chris Flannery, and I can’t understand a single effing word he says. His hobbies are taking credit for killing people he didn’t, watching girls kiss, and saying ‘fuck’ in the nude.
The Couriers
The Couriers smuggle icing sugar for Matthew Newton, and there’s a guy, a girl, and Wayne, who is Alison’s ex-boyfriend. Their dinner parties aren’t very good, because they fall asleep and shit on the stairs.
Lady Gaga
Lady Gaga is a police lady who isn’t very good at her job but is quite good at looking worried. She lets her kid hang out in the police station but doesn’t catch Brian Kane because she can’t run in hot boots.
Chopper Read
Eric Bana has totally let himself go.
Freeman
This guy has white hair and a casino, and needs a good exfoliant.
Cute Cops
Cute cops aren’t corrupt, but they sort of find it hard to get anything done.
Fugly Cops
Fugly cops are corrupt, and have heaps of time for gambling and eating dinner and sandwiches.
Boobs
These are like, the stars of the show.
New Guy
New Guy walks over the top of a police car.
That’s everybody nearly, except for the baby and the poodle.
You’re welcome.
.
This show is getting really hard to follow, so I figured if you’re as confused as I am, which is even more confused than the Jonas Brothers are, it’s probably time I got you all caught up with the characters. Any I’ve left out probably don’t matter, and the actors probably just knew the director or something.
Matthew Newton
AKA Tirry, AKA Mr Asia, AKA Big-Head-Bluey-Starey-Eyes. Has lots of sex with Alison because she’s clever, and looks at people a lot. Has just worked out how to smuggle icing sugar in suitcases, and gets cross when he’s invited to dinner but dinner’s not ready yet.
Alison
Alison is a person attached to some boobs and some pretty good hair. She goes overseas a lot for a kindy teacher.
Robert Trimboli
Trimboli gives out sandwiches and passports, and likes to gamble. He also likes to have dinner with policemen at fugly restaurants called the Capri something, and gets people arrested at the airport. He’s sort of like a friendly old uncle who imports heroin and has people killed and stuff.
Brian Kane
Kane is angry because he has a bad porn moustache, and because his brother got shot, and because he can’t get anybody to kill the guy who killed his brother. He tries to hide his bad moustache with an even worse beard, and shoots Ray Chuck right in the courthouse.
Sally Fletcher
Sally was married to Les Kane before he got shot, and now she sees all her memories backwards in slow motion. She mostly just looks wistful and cries, I think because she still hasn’t got around to changing her mank wallpaper because she’s been too busy mopping blood off the floor. She needs to get her priorities right hahaha!
Ray Chuck And The Chucky Uggers
Ray and the Uggers go to jail for shooting Les Kane, but because they did such a good job of chopping him up or whatever, they get set free and play soccer. Except Ray gets arrested again for stealing, and makes friends with Chopper Read and then gets shot.
The Mumbler
The Mumbler is a guy called Chris Flannery, and I can’t understand a single effing word he says. His hobbies are taking credit for killing people he didn’t, watching girls kiss, and saying ‘fuck’ in the nude.
The Couriers
The Couriers smuggle icing sugar for Matthew Newton, and there’s a guy, a girl, and Wayne, who is Alison’s ex-boyfriend. Their dinner parties aren’t very good, because they fall asleep and shit on the stairs.
Lady Gaga
Lady Gaga is a police lady who isn’t very good at her job but is quite good at looking worried. She lets her kid hang out in the police station but doesn’t catch Brian Kane because she can’t run in hot boots.
Chopper Read
Eric Bana has totally let himself go.
Freeman
This guy has white hair and a casino, and needs a good exfoliant.
Cute Cops
Cute cops aren’t corrupt, but they sort of find it hard to get anything done.
Fugly Cops
Fugly cops are corrupt, and have heaps of time for gambling and eating dinner and sandwiches.
Boobs
These are like, the stars of the show.
New Guy
New Guy walks over the top of a police car.
That’s everybody nearly, except for the baby and the poodle.
You’re welcome.
.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Urban Decay 8
Part 8: Where Did I Put My Car Keith?
(Confused, or reminiscing about what Keith Urban looked like before we subjected him to a thousand indignities? Go read parts one through seven. Yes, SEVEN. That’s how long we’ve been doing this ridiculous shi… er, worthwhile and culturally significant project for).
Keith adores a bit of a drive. He likes nothing more than getting behind the wheel out on the open road, window down, breeze ruffling his bleach-frosted, artfully tousled hair, song ideas looming in the rear-vision mirror, closer than they appear.
Unfortunately for Keith, with his track record, hardly anybody will let him behind the wheel anymore. So when Keith asked my mate KJ if he could drive her car, she said no.
“How about if Russ drives, and I sit on his lap?” asked Keith.
“No” said KJ.
“Passenger seat?” whined Keith.
“No” said KJ.
“Boot?” nagged Keith, scratching his nose and letting out a small fart.
“No” said KJ.
Then we had an idea.
(Confused, or reminiscing about what Keith Urban looked like before we subjected him to a thousand indignities? Go read parts one through seven. Yes, SEVEN. That’s how long we’ve been doing this ridiculous shi… er, worthwhile and culturally significant project for).
Keith adores a bit of a drive. He likes nothing more than getting behind the wheel out on the open road, window down, breeze ruffling his bleach-frosted, artfully tousled hair, song ideas looming in the rear-vision mirror, closer than they appear.
Unfortunately for Keith, with his track record, hardly anybody will let him behind the wheel anymore. So when Keith asked my mate KJ if he could drive her car, she said no.
“How about if Russ drives, and I sit on his lap?” asked Keith.
“No” said KJ.
“Passenger seat?” whined Keith.
“No” said KJ.
“Boot?” nagged Keith, scratching his nose and letting out a small fart.
“No” said KJ.
Then we had an idea.
First part of idea: put Keith in a shopping bag and tie it up with yellow ribbon.
Second part of idea: tie Keith-In-A-Bag to the tow-bar of KJ's car. Give Russ the keys.
Third and easily best part of idea: Let the fanging commence.
All in all, Keith came through it pretty well.
Stay tuned. Keith clearly needs you.
.
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