Saw the Australian
premiere screening of
Fahrenheit 9/11 last night.
I know it's not really important which screening it was, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm very of-the-moment and progressive so you'll think more of me.
I won't go on about the fact that it's life affirming and if you don't want to change the world after seeing it you're mentally defunct, but thought instead I should mention that there's a campaign to send ticket stubs to the White House. You know,
so George knows the world is watching .
If you can be bothered getting up off your apathetic arse to put a fucking ticket in an envelope, the address is here:
President George W. Bush
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Ave. NW
Washington, DC 20500
Pass it on.
Oh, and someone asked me why none of my crushes are on left-wing pollies. Um, because of
him. And
him. I mean, their hearts are in the right place and everything, but come on...
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Another blogger that I am vaguely obsessed with - whose real name may or may not be
krankiboy - had a link to this quiz on his website. I had to prove I was funnier and more interesting than him so I
did one too .
You can go on there and see how well you know me and then I will play you all off against each other.
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1. Clown faeces.
2. Live maggots.
3. Buboes.
Can you guess which one of these was in my half-chewed dried fig yesterday? Go on, try! It'll be fun! Almost as fun as it was for me finding it!
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People I have Wrong Crushes on.
David Hicks , Guantanamo Bay detainee.
Okay, so maybe he trained with Al Qaeda and kind of fought for the Taliban in Afghanistan. But look at him. He's fucking hot. He has a nice smile. And he looks really impressive with a bazooka, too.
Senator Robert Hill, Defence Minister.
This one really hurts, because not only is Robert Hill a fucking Liberal politician and therefore in my book evil to his very core, but he's also the guy making the case 'for' Australia's involvement in Iraq. But couldn't we just put all that aside for long enough for me to kiss those big soft lips? Also, his voice is sexy.
The Hon John Anderson, MP.
This one hurts too. John Anderson is the leader of the National Party and therefore represents red-necked farmers who shoot 'trespassing niggers' and constantly confuse the words 'gay' and 'paedophile'. Oh, but his hair is always dreamy and he has the charisma of Pierce Brosnan. Even if he is potentially all about keeping women squeezing out babies on tractors. I could do that for him.
Greg Domaszewicz.
Look, he might have murdered a toddler. Might have. And yes, he's losing a lot of hair. But everyone knows balding men are virile. And it would be kind of cool to be fucking the only person who maybe knows the truth about what happened to little Jaidyn.
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There's only so hard you can try to be friends with another blogger without becoming a total internet stalker. You play it cool; leave a couple of dry and witty comments on their blog hoping that they'll read them and remark to themselves: 'My! Here's someone I
must get to know a little better!'
Then they'll go check out your blog, confirm the fact that you are not only as witty and off-the-cuff as them but also quite attractive and down with 'tha' street, and desperately want to become your best friend in the whole world. This is the part where you have to play it very careful. You need to act as though you have numerous other witty bloggers clamouring for your friendship and respect and the only reason you're choosing them is because they're incredibly lucky - something for which they should thank you repeatedly until you become attractively and modestly embarrassed, chucking them under the chin and saying: 'Go on, you crazy fuck-knuckle*. Cut it out.'
Chelsea Peretti gives good funny, and I like that I can hear her voice in my head when I read her posts. She also has a fucking hilarious site called
Black People Love Us which was probably cool in America about five years ago but has only now reached Australia because we are such a backwater, know-nothing, dry-vagina kind of town.
*You may also use the term 'Ya big Palooka' here, but only if you come from the USA and even then only if you are living in the 1950's and tipping some ruddy-cheeked kid who makes malteds at the Soda Shoppe.
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Tonight on my radio show (10pm - 12am, Melbourne's Own Triple R) we will be filling two hours with inane and under-researched banter about orgasms. Our celebrity rooter will be part-time-celeb-with-a-social-conscience
Merlin Luck .
Fortuitously, one of our many and varied listeners emailed me and put me on to
this site . It's top-half-only videos of people making themselves 'feel nice' and it's kind of compelling. I'm not sure that it's arousing as much as it is fascinating. Feel free to contact me if you pull yourself off over it, though.
In other radio news - while I don't necessarily like the music of Frenzal Rhomb , a transcript of the lead singer speaking rather frankly to the Hot 30 Countdown's Kyle and Jackie O makes me look upon them a little more kindly.
1 comment.
Honestly, can you believe
this man has been leading a secret life as a drug-taking raver?
According to today's
Age :
'MPs said they believed Mr Olexander - who left The Alfred hurriedly last night after spending most of the day there - had been attending dance parties and raves in recent months.
One senior Liberal MP said Mr Olexander's recent behaviour had been "highly erratic" and described him as a "high-maintenance MP".
Opposition Leader Robert Doyle is thought to be livid with Mr Olexander. Senior Liberals said the incident would make it difficult for him to win pre-selection to contest his Silvan Province electorate at the 2006 state election.'
Go on, look at his picture. Look at him.
Now try to imagine him waving a day-glo wand and sucking a dummy.
It's just fucking wrong. Why don't Liberal MP's stick to wearing sensible socks and raping babies like they usually do?
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