Al-Qaeda plans to drop gay bombs. You know it's a good day when the
Weekly World News is calling the shots in hot-off-the-press-ville. According to them:
'EXTREMIST Muslim scientists are developing a bomb that turns anyone within a 30-mile radius of its blast into a homosexual, say U.S. Intelligence insiders. It's all a part of the Al Qaeda master plan to pull our country apart and kill the patriotism that makes us strong.
"They believe that making more Americans gay will start civil war between gays and ultraconservatives," says one highly placed intelligence officer. "They also figure it will lead to a decrease in the U.S. population."'
Plus, they used this super-gay picture to strike fear into the hearts of heterosexual Americans:
In other gay news, I stumbled across the gayest animated cards I've ever seen in my life. You can personalise them and email them to your 'loved one'.
Here is one I made for my beloved best friend Gabi.
You can also get male-to-male ones, so if you want to make a gay proposal to your gay lover via three singing cartoon bears wearing sombreros, go right ahead.
8 comments.
My newfound
penpal and platonic life partner has a car-game he plays with his wife, Penny. Which is adorable enough in itself (the idea of the two of them playfully punching each other whenever they see a VW or cracking open the Travel Scrabble set is, frankly, so wholesome it hurts), even if you don't factor in that the game actually rules and I am a more well-rounded and interesting person for him sharing it with me.
The game is called
Murder, Marry, Fight, Fuck and kranki and I have been attempting to play it on email with limited success, as he is an arrogant American who presumes everyone in the world will know everything about his Motherland. This has led to him suggesting obscure US 'icons' like
Julia Child and
Andy Rooney for me to toy with while I try simultaneously to FIGURE OUT WHO THE FUCK THEY ARE.
So I'm forced to play a uniquely Australian version. And I want to make it hard for all of us. Want to play?
MURDER, MARRY, FIGHT, FUCK: 
Which would you choose for what? Tough decision, isn't it?
After great reflection, I think I'd play as follows:
MURDER: Have to go with the dragon lady Bronwyn Bishop here. With all the trouble she's been causing in the House of Reps of late, I'd probably be hailed as a hero by Deputy Speaker Ian Causley. And as an added bonus, my beloved
Bob Ellis could probably
win the seat of Mackellar unchallenged . If I may, I choose the death to be long, slow and painful.
MARRY: You'll have another reason for hating me (note clever reference to blog title) when you discover I've chosen John W. Howard to marry. Why? Because he's
strongly rumoured to be politically influenced by his missus . If I was in his ear, I could create a big turnaround for the country. But I'd have to insist on lots of 'headaches' come bedtime. And no tongues. definitely no tongues.
FIGHT: Easy. Alexander 'Syndrome' Downer. Not only would it feel deeply satisfying throwing a vicious punch into his soft, pudgy flesh, he's also be dead easy to bitch-slap in a brawl. I mean, look at him. The guy would be on his knees crying for mummy before you'd even started to make him bleed.
FUCK: This hurts. This really, really, really hurts. I would fuck Tony Abbott.
I can't believe I just wrote that. But that's the danger of this game. You end up in bed with someone utterly repulsive purely due to the process of elimination. At least I could hang on to those ears while I went for it. And if we got pregnant, we could
adopt the little fucker out. Not like he hasn't done it before.
6 comments.
Last year, when bombs started to fall on Baghdad, I got confused. How come Iraq was getting rapped on the knuckles for (apparently) harbouring WMD's when the USA were allowed to have them? It hardly seemed fair. And at about 2am one morning, after asking around my circle of knowledge (Slugger, Gabi and mum), I decided to go straight to the source and have it explained to me.
I may or may not have been smoking pot at the time. I can't remember.
I called Telstra directory assistance (1223) and asked them for the number of the White House switchboard - 202-456-1414. After some confusion over the International dialling prefix (I think it's 0011 1 from memory), I got through.
Switchboard: This is the White House, how may I direct your call? Me: Um, hi. I was just wondering if I could ask someone a question about Weapons of Mass Destruction?
Switchboard: One moment please. Hold music - God Bless America, Instrumental. Switchboard: Putting you through. ring ring. ring ring. Presidential Comment Line Lady: This is the Presidential Comment Line, may I take down your comment? Me: Oh. Sure. I mean - I'm calling from Australia.
Presidential Comment Line Lady: Well, hello there. Me (pleased by slightly motherly and friendly greeting): Hi. Ah...I was just calling because I was a bit confused. And I wanted something cleared up.
Presidential Comment Line Lady: I'll do my best to help. Me (responding well to grandmotherly charm): Wow. Great. I was just wondering how come Iraq aren't allowed to have Weapons of Mass Destruction but America are?
Presidential Comment Line Lady: (long pause) I'm not sure I understand, dear. Me: Well, this war started because Iraq had Weapons of Mass Destruction. How come they're not allowed to have them but America is?
Presidential Comment Line Lady: (another long pause) That's not really a comment, is it? That's more of a question. Me: I suppose. Technically.
Presidential Comment Line Lady: So I'm supposed to be taking down comments. Me: Okay.
Another pause. Both of us confused. Perhaps we have reached an impasse. Me (problem-solving): Maybe you could just point out to the President that it's not exactly
clear to the rest of the world, then. That we don't really
understand the reasons for war. Is that okay?
Presidential Comment Line Lady: (pretending to type) I've got that, dear. That's fine. Is there anything else? Me: No, thank-you.
Presidential Comment Line Lady: Thank-you for calling the White House. Buh-bye. It was only twenty past two in the morning, and - not unlike someone who has sat through a movie directed by
Emma-Kate Croghan - I was deeply dissatisfied. So I tried again.
Switchboard: This is the White House, how may I direct your call? Me: Hello, I just called up and spoke to someone about Weapons of Mass Destruction. Is there anyone else I could speak to apart from the Presidential Comment Line?
Switchboard: One moment please. Hold music - Living In America, James Brown. Switchboard: Putting you through. ring ring. ring ring.
ring ring. ring ring.
ring ring. ring - PR Woman: White House Public Relations. Me: Hello. Sorry to bother you, but I'm just sitting here in Australia and I've got a question about Weapons of Mass Destruction. How come -
PR Woman (breaking in, annoyed): I'm sorry, I can't help you right now. We're having a briefing. (sounds of clinking glasses and animated chat in b/g; Shania Twain's 'Man! I Feel Like A Woman' on stereo) Me: Oh. Is there anyone else I could talk to?
PR Woman: I'm sorry, no. (hangs up just as sounds of hooting and 'YEAH! TAKE IT FUCKING ALL OFF!' heard in b/g) Fuck that for a joke.
Switchboard: This is the White House, how may I direct your call? Me: Yes, hi. It's me again. Is there anyone else I could -
Switchboard: One moment please. Hold music - Elvis Ate America - U2. Switchboard: Putting you through.
ring ring. ring ring. Dan: This is the Defence Department, Dan speaking.
Me: Hi, Dan. I was just calling to ask how come Iraq's not allowed to have WMD's and yet you guys are?
Well, didn't I just pick a winner with Dan from the Defence Department. He sat and talked to me for about twenty minutes about the
Non-Proliferation Treaty and how practically
everyone in the whole world signed it except, you know, Mr. Moustache. Not only that, but Mr. Moustache had 'demonstrated' that he would
use nuclear weapons on his own people . 'Wow, Dan' I said, 'Why would he do a thing like that?'. Dan laughed and, I imagine, shook his head in a kind of slap-me-down-and-tickle-me-purple yee-haw-type fashion. 'Ma'am, I sure wish I knew how that guy's head worked. He's straight-up crazy!'
We talked some more. I wanted to clarify a few points. So the USA signed this treaty that said they'd destroy all their nuclear weapons? There was a pause. Dan chuckled again. 'That's right, Ma'am. We've pledged that we won't be making any more nuclear weapons!' he replied cheerily.
We talked about North Korea. About how come they weren't as big a threat as Iraq. Weren't they demonstrating that they not only had nuclear weapons, but that they were also going to deploy them? Dan hyucked matily and no doubt chewed on some hay. 'Ma'am, I sure wish I knew how their heads' worked,' he said, adding for meaningful effect: 'They're straight-up crazy!'.
At the end of our intimate twenty minutes, Dan had to return (somewhat reluctantly, I got the feeling) to work. And I to bed. Before I farewelled him, I told him solemnly: 'Listen Dan, there are a couple of people sitting here in North Fitzroy at 3 o'clock in the morning who don't want a war.' 'That makes three of us, Ma'am' Dan replied. And then repeated, for no good reason save that he may have been borderline retarded; 'That makes three of us.'
So if anything's not quite making sense to you about kooky, what-the-hey kinda things like this:
, or, you know, this:
- then maybe you should give the White House a call.
Presidential Comment Line: 202-456-1111
Switchboard: 202-456-1414
Department of Defense: 703-545-6700 - ask for Dan.
2 comments.
Ice T Speaks.
On Men, Women and Sex: 'I can't speak for women, but I know what men are about. I know about muthafuckin' men: They want to fuck. Men are dogs. They would like to sniff it and fuck it,
now if not sooner. Men reading this right now are shaking their heads and saying to themselves, 'Damn, Ice, shut the fuck up.'
'As kids we are taught to make you believe we have other reasons to talk to you and ask, 'What's your name? How are you doing?' But what we're really saying is, 'Man, I want to fuck you.' This is what drives the male. Women should give me a special services award for tipping them off.'
On Relationships: 'Real relationships require compromise. Love is not a selfish game. At times, you will have to rub his neck. Maybe you are dead tired, but he would really like it, and you love him, so you rub his neck. There are gonna be times when she's gonna want something, and you're gonna have to accommodate her. These usually aren't requests that money can buy. These are physical acts of unselfishness over selfishness. This is what real love is about.'
On Axl: 'Before I met Axl, everybody just assumed I would hate him. I would tell them, 'No, I ain't never met Axl Rose.' When I finally did meet Axl Rose, he was the coolest dude. He's totally cool with me. When we were on tour in San Diego, Axl told me he's a victim of the press the same way I am. He asked me directly, 'How many people do you think know me, man? I mean know me, kick it with me? There's nobody. Everybody's right and everybody says all this stuff about me because they are making money talking about Axl Rose. The promoters didn't want Body Count to come out here on this tour. I wanted Body Count to come out on tour.'
That's the bottom line for me: He was cool with me. I'm here to say Axl Rose is a cool dude, but he's another victim of all the hype and the press. He asked me, 'How am I supposed to be racist if Slash is black?' Slash is black whether people know it or not. Axl added, 'Come again with that. Is there anything else they can throw at me? Do I beat my girl?' (
yes ) 'I make records, man.''
According to Charles Shaar Murray from Mojo, The Ice Opinion is 'so piercingly eloquent that you end up feeling no-one should have the temerity to run for elected office in the US until they've checked out what Ice-T has to say.'
Or at least, what his ghost writer Heidi Siegmund has to say.
I'm not sure I trust a rapper with a girl's name anyway.
5 comments.
Last week the
Age film critic, Jim Schembri, reviewed Michael Moore's film
Fahrenheit 9-11 . While suggesting that the documentary had problems as a piece of film-making, he also said that Moore's case against Bush was simplistic and selective. That pissed me off, and I wrote to him. Then he wrote back. Then I wrote back. Then he wrote back. It was quite the frenzy.
In the end, he printed some of our emails in his EG column yesterday. But here's the uncensored version.
From: ms fits [ mailto:freakymissus@yahoo.com.au]
Sent: Friday, July 30, 2004 2:56 PM
To: Jim SCHEMBRI
Subject: F 9-11
But wasn't the case 'for' war merely biased propaganda too? George W's insistence that the moustachioed towel-head was responsible for all our problems so we should just bomb him and end terror forever?
If the WMD argument wasn't entirely selective in its editing then I don't know what is.
I feel you failed to mention that in your article, Jim. I never pinned you as a right-wing apologist.
Ms Fits.
On 30/7/04 3:17 PM, "Jim SCHEMBRI"
wrote:
Thank you very much for your letter, Ms Fits.
The piece was very careful to address the shortcomings in the film, to
highlight its bias and monumental lack of balance. It is not primarily a piece about Moore's politics, but about his skills as a filmmaker. It is, after all, a film review.
Saying he should have covered certain issues and mentioned certain important facts is to comment on the quality of the film. I asked questions that the film would have been better for addressing. It's Moore's bias that keeps him from considering issues in a way that people who are not already on his side can take seriously.
I've been hearing this argument that ``well, the right have been one-sided in their version of the war, therefore Moore is entitled to be just as one-sided''. I find this tit-for-tat defense of the film absolute nonsense. If you feel the other side has been biased in its presentation, responding likewise does no good at all. Surely you should hold yourself to a higher standard and take an intelligent approach to the facts, not merely clone the mistakes of your enemy. You don't fight fire with fire, you fight it with water. It is all opinion, at the end of the day. As is made clear in the piece, I like Moore's TV show and do give him credit for some extraordinary sequences that people like Hitchens didn't like.
Thank you again for your letter.
Yours
Jim Schembri
The Age
From: ms fits [ mailto:freakymissus@yahoo.com.au]
Sent: Friday, July 30, 2004 3:29 PM
To: Jim SCHEMBRI
Subject: Re: F 9-11
I suppose the tit-for-tat thing is fair enough. I also think you should have said that in your article to shut bleeding heart lefties like me up. It makes sense, and I hadn't thought of it like that as I am quite biased and pig-headed.
I wondered if journos should - or even could - review F 9-11 as a stand-alone doco when really, it is so a part of worldwide politics. As a documentary yes, it is simplistic and wouldn't win many awards. But as a thermometer for social change it is blistering and I cried like an idiot throughout.
Ms Fits.
On 30/7/04 3:39 PM, "Jim SCHEMBRI" wrote:
Dear Ms Fits,
please do not denigrate yourself for being a bleeding-heart leftie. The world needs bleeding-heart lefties. It also needs filmmakers who care about the difference between documentary and propaganda.
Ma'am, thank you for one of the most amusing and delightful e-mails I've received for a long while. I would like to print our exchange in next week's column. It would make great reading. (We could replace the word "idiot''). I hope you agree.
Yours sincerely
Jim Schembri
The Age
From: ms fits [mailto:freakymissus@yahoo.com.au]
Sent: Friday, July 30, 2004 3:52 PM
To: Jim SCHEMBRI
Subject: Re: F 9-11
Mr. Schembri
I am more than happy for you to print our 84 Charing Cross road-esque correspondence. And please don't feel the need to omit the word 'idiot'. Those sitting in my immediate vicinity at the cinema will attest to the fact that the word is more than fitting. The state of world affairs is enough to send normally level-headed young ladies such as myself into floods of tears these days I'm afraid.
I remain, yours sincerely,
Ms 'Hanff' Fits.
On 30/7/04 4:01 PM, "Jim SCHEMBRI" wrote:
Dear Ms Fits,
this is great. I've been trying to make the column more interactive and our exchange will make terrific reading. I like the fact that readers have strong feelings and a sense of humour.
If it's ok, I may send you an e-mail copy of the piece as it will appear, with my little introduction.
Thank you again. Keep reading us - and keep responding. It's what helps make this gig intersting!
yours sincerely
Jim Schembri
The Age
On 04/08/04 11:13 AM, "Jim SCHEMBRI" wrote:
Dear Ms Fits,
here is what is going in the paper this week. I wanted you to have the last word, so I did a small bit of editing by moving a line from your very last e-mail to the previous one. It works very well and you may not even notice. You make a strong point that highlights the passion of people who agree with Moore's line and I wanted to finish with that. (It's also boring to have the journo have the last word.)
Thank you again for your correspondence. Write in anytime about anything.
Yours
Jim Schembri
The Age
From: ms fits [ mailto:freakymissus@yahoo.com.au]
Sent: Wednesday, August 04, 2004 2:33 PM
To: Jim SCHEMBRI
Subject: Re: F 9-11 letter
Dear Jim Schembri
I and my people unequivocally give our approval of the piece. And thank-you for giving me the last word. It is an unusual occurrence that happens mostly in the grips of mildly shrill hysteria.
I have no idea of the prelude you will be writing to the article, but if you plan on referring to me in any way as either a hippy or a juvenile bumlord I will withdraw my approval at once.
I remain, sincerely yours
Ms Fits
On 04/08/04 2:40 PM, "Jim SCHEMBRI" wrote:
Dear Ms fits,
you write terrific letters.
Actually the intro is quite innocuous. I should have sent it earlier. It appears below.
The film continues to set records and stir debate. November will be an interesting time!
Good cheer to you.
Jim Schembri
The Age
As expected, we got some heated responses to last week's feature review of Michael Moore's controversial pseudo-documentary Fahrenheit 9/11. Opinion is clearly as passionate as it is divided over the film's virtues, and I would like to share with you an email exchange I had with a reader, which I reprint with permission.
-----Original Message-----
8 comments.
Last night, Slugger surprised me with tickets to a show. Needless to say, when I found out I was going to see
WILD COLONIAL PSYCHO's (sic) - starring crooked cop
Roger 'the Dodger' Rogerson , former VFL thug and Energizer battery spokesman Mark 'Jacko' Jackson and notorious underworld gent
Mark Brandon 'Chopper' Read - I was a little taken aback. Not in a bad way. More like when you're expecting a Barbie for Christmas and you get a blood-stained meat cleaver with human flesh still attached. That kind of taken aback.
Anyway, here are some things I noticed about my big night at the theatre with the Dodge, Jacko, and Chop-Chop.
1. People who attend these kind of performances are very big bogans. I have never before felt like such a middle-class, arty fuck-wank tosser. Everyone milling around in the foyer had clearly either done time in the 'big house' (I believe that's what it's referred to in the vernacular), or at the very least buried a body in a shallow grave. Especially the women. There were a lot of fucking rough sheilas in that joint. And they were all drinking bundy and coke.
If you don't know what a bogan looks like, here are some of them being 'amusing':
2. Roger Rogerson seems dangerously normal. Hand in slacks - either absent-mindedly jingling keys or playing pocket billiards, I'm not sure which - Roger entertained us with sly tales of 'the best police force money could buy, ahahaa.' He also gave us his side of the
shooting of Warren Lanfranchi . You found yourself almost half-liking the genial old fucker; comparing him to a half-cut gramps on Christmas Day. Then a cold glint appeared in his eye as a reminder of just what he's seen and potentially done in all his years as a bent cop. Then you got a bit scared and wanted your mummy.
3. Mark 'Jacko' Jackson hasn't changed much since he used to beat people up on the footy field. Except that now he's a 'public speaker' with what could be kindly described as a 'blue streak'. Example 1 of routine:
'How the fuck is Sydney, eh? Fucking FAG CENTRAL. I'm sittin' on Oxford street with me three year-old son Jasper, and all of a sudden it's fucking Mardi Gras. Poofs everywhere; kissin', holdin' hands. Jasper's tuggin' on me pants, like: 'dad, dad, what's goin' on' and he
pulls me wallet out and it falls on the ground . Had to kick the fuckin' thing all the way back to Melbourne, AHAHAHAHAAAAA!'
Example 2 of routine:
'I only wanted tickets to one event at the Olympics - the female weightlifting. Aw, yeah. How's that? One hundred and twenty kilogram snatch.' (to man in the audience) 'You'd know about that wouldn't ya mate? You're sitting next to one, AHAHAHAHAAA!'
4. Chopper Read is a scary guy. I think it's safe to say Mr. Read 'had a few under his belt' by the time he hit the stage. Whether the booze was responsible for the jaw-dropping tale he spun about stabbing a 'Croation homosexual bodybuilder*' up the arse with a ten and a half-inch hunting knife, or whether it was a regular part of the 'show', I'm not sure. All I know is that by the time he got to the part about splitting the bloke's anal webbing so bad it needed eleven stitches and was 'pissing blood', I was about ready for a cup of tea and a lie-down.
5. Chopper wears his pants quite high. But you didn't hear it from me.
6. The show was, of course, a triumph. And if any of those fine gentlemen were to Google themselves and find my page, I'd like to again reinstate what fine, upstanding members of the community they are, in addition to being first-class raconteurs and entertainers. Bravo.
Here is a picture of Chopper:
* Chopper's wisdom: 'There are two types of poofs in prison. Hocks and Cats. Hocks do the fucking. And the Cats - no-one talks to them. They get fucked. So obviously they're poofters.'
10 comments.
My
favourite left-wing teenagers are having some issues with a rather shrill and hysterical
Young Liberal at their school, who has taken it upon himself to start a
rival blog .
Aside from clearly having spelling difficulties, it would seem our mini-Hitler friend is also struggling to make himself heard by his fellow classmates:
'First Young Liberal meeting @ PHSC Well fellow conservatives
We have survived! Last Friday, the first Young Liberal/National Party at PHSC was held in the theatre, with mixed results. The meeting began with the Young Liberal making a speech. The commies at the meeting jeered, but for the rest of us, his words were truely music to our ears. He finished his speech, and as he stepped down, more commies entered. I then stepped up and gave my speech, to the protest of the commies, who threw mandarin at me and my fellow conservatives. Wow guys, you sure know how to fight (sarcasm). Then the commies attempted to take the stand unsucsesfully, as I tackeled them off the stage. The meeting ended soon after...'*
When I was at school we argued - often to the point of fisticuffs - about whether George Michael was gay, or if Black Box could ever put out another single as killer as 'Ride On Time'.
In other M3R news to hand, there have been some problems putting up posters in the school without Ms Forster's permission. Immediate action is being taken via asking Ms Farrell about the possibility of a student bulletin board. Or they could just, as Lokomotiv Moscow suggests, 'Strike at the brains, not the foot soldiers, take down the Department'.
* I swear to fucking Christ I'm not making any of this up.
12 comments.
