Thursday, August 31, 2006

Australian Idol's live interview with Anthony Callea

In which Anthony Callea comes out to the nation by wearing THE GAYEST SHIRT IN THE HISTORY OF GAY:

So gay!

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Down on the pharm

I had occasion to go to the chemist earlier today and noticed a sign for "pseudo-watch":

Does that mean they're not really watching?

Sorry, sorry. I am sick. Give me a go.

Park your eyes here

One of the first things you notice when you move to StinkTown Canberra is that you have to pay for parking. Everywhere.

If, like me, you've come from Sydney where pay-parking is normally charged at a rate of about $15.00 per hour, this is likely to give you a mild heart attack at first.

And, if you're also like me in that you're remarkably stingey good with money, you'll also spend your first month in Canberra parking in the street, 5 blocks from where you're going, to avoid what you think will be a $50 parking bill.

Then you discover that the most you're likely to pay is about $1.00 per hour.

Ah Canberra, so like the 1980s in so many ways.

Anyway, this of course means we Canberra residents have the joy of collecting a wee ticket upon entry to each car park and revelling in the delights of temperamental ticket machines and booths.

A machine once swallowed my money and refused to validate and return my parking ticket. I pressed the 'help' button and the responding technician asked me if I had used "dirty money".


At the same car park I spotted this sign the other day:

So, you want me NOT to insert it correctly?

And you're telling me I should stop dipping my ticket in my cup of coffee, as is my normal routine these days?


Just like a prayer

I've been praying a lot lately, about Australian Idol.

Well, does shouting "F*cking christ you suck Mark Holden!" and "oh dear GOD, will anything decent come of this year's series?!" at the telly count as praying?

Yeah, well, that's just your opinion.

ANYWAY, it seems my 'prayers' have been answered.

Just got into work? Want to extend that "just a little pre-work interwebs surf" just that bit longer?

God has delivered unto the earth the p*ss-funniest idol recap I've read since I proof-read mine the other day.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Do you feel the same, or am I only dreaming?

So when did Idol become a simulcast with Mix FM?

It’s not?

Then why did all the contestants sing 'the best from the 70s, 80s and 90s'?

Seriously, Eurythmics? Whitney Houston? Queen?


I mean, if you heard that on the radio, you’d switch over, right? (Except, I guess, on those drunken trips home in the back of a taxi, in which case you’d sing along…) So why choose those songs for teh idol?

And also, any contestant that makes the little telephone hand-sign thingo (you know, the “call me” hand-sign – thumb to the ear, pinky to the mouth) when Andrew G is reading out their vote-line number is GUARANTEED not to get my vote.

that I would vote. But those that do the hand-sign, double-guaranteed never to get my vote.

Further, looks like we haven’t learnt anything from previous seasons of Idol (ie, those who dictate history education through poxy ‘history summits’ ignore history are doomed to repeat it):

Marty Worrell 2:

Courtney Murphy 2:

Shannon Noll 2 (ok, with a Guinness chaser):

Looks a bit like he’s been hit in the back of the head with a 2x4…

Tarni Stephens 2:

Note to Tarni 2: wearing a sleeveless, strapless top for a head and shoulders photo shoot makes you look nude.

And yes, I intend to continue watching.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Baby bonus

So Dr Charlotte Beaumont on All Saints is blubbering about how no one respects her medical opinion since she became pregnant and that she is clearly on the outer as regards career opportunities at the All Saints emergency department.

Well BOO HOO! Should have stayed a lonely, barren, stereotypical television lesbian, Charlotte.

Anyone remember when Charlotte was a lesbian? I do, although the transition to noice, normal, baby-having straight doctor has been done almost without a mention you'd be forgiven for forgetting.


At least as a stereotypical television lesbian all Charlotte would have had to worry about was either dying lonely and unfulfilled, or descending into psychosis and murdering her partner. Yes, as a television lesbian, the possibilities are twofold endless.

And yes, I am aware that staying a lesbian wouldn't have precluded pregnancy for Charlotte. But as a pregnant television lesbian I'm afraid to say she and her baby would have been dead certs for some kind of horrific life-ending tragedy.

end rant .... for now

Monday, August 21, 2006

So what would you do?

You walk into the tea-room at work (and by 'tea-room' I mean converted broom cupboard with a sink and a microwave in it) to find a colleague busy washing up his mug and happily letting rip a massively trumpet-y fart (and by 'trumpet-y fart' I mean a very high-pitched 'brrrrrrrrrrrrrrt').

Said colleague then turns and sees you, pauses for a second, and then turns back to continue mug-washing without batting an eye-lid.

No one should be able to cope with office-based embarassment that easily!

I wanted him to wither and stutter out some lame excuse ('er, it was the pipes', or similar).

But he just walked off, leaving me there to decide whether or not to walk into the fart-laden air of the tea-room (smelling other people's farts makes me feel dirty).

I decided to put off having my coffee for a little while.

I'm sure this colleague would be happy that I now think of him as 'fart-man'.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Here's to my new chum

No, that's not it.

No, not quite.

Here he is!

Cheers little fellah!

PS - I am aware this is the blogging equivalent of an 'in-joke'. Cope.

This frustration is compulsory for all tax-payers

I hate inconsistency.

Short tax return instructions 2006


1(b) if you were single without a dependent child for part of 2005-06, and your Medicare Levy Surcharge income was less than $100,000 (plus $1500 for each dependent child)...


Next year I think I'll just take the Homer approach to taxes:

Homer: Marge! How many kids do we have? Oh, no time to count, I'll just estimate! Uh... nine!

Marge: Homer, you know we don't h--

Homer: Shut up, shut up! If I don't hear you it's not illegal! OK, I need some deductions, deductions... ah!! Business gifts!

[Homer grabs the boat painting from above the couch and hands it to

Here you go, keep using nuclear power!

Marge: Homer! I painted that for you!

Homer: OK, Marge, if anyone asks, you require twenty four hour nursing care, Lisa's a clergyman, Maggie is seven people, and Bart was wounded in Vietnam!

Bart: Cool!

[Homer shoves in some quick gifts and tapes the envelope up in a ball.]

-- Homer does his taxes on the last minute, "The Trouble With Trillions"

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Mediocrity - Australia says "sure, why not?"

Why does it have to be 'Australia' says no?

Why can't it be 'human beings' say no?

It's as though we can only influence the behaviour of people in this country through jingoistic references.

"Better not beat up your wife - it's not very patriotic."


Sunday, August 13, 2006

Tobias mix-tapepost

Can't blog for long, Australian Idol just started

So I'm about 5 hours into Munich. I guess I could take the rest of the week off to finish watching this movie but is it worth it?

I've already lost half my weekend to it... and it's probably still got 12 hours to go...

A list of 11 assassination targets, 45 minutes dedicated to each assassination. I don't have the attention span for this. Who has the attention span for this?

Speaking of which, this post is way too long. I just read it back to myself and had to stop for a Coke Zero and a game of playstation half way through.


Caption: Eric Bana and Geoffrey Rush on the set of Munich during the 3rd year of the 12-year shoot.

This one reads like an atlas...

And what exactly is "Tenasy"? Is it anything like 'tenacity'?

PS Things Tobias has taught me: I shouldn't spray perfume onto cat scratches. And also, don't spill wine on cat scratches.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

It's over

You said you’d changed. You promised, in fact. You said “this time, it will be different”

But you’re just the same.

Sucking me in with the promise of something special but in the end you’re just all vanity and spite.

You say it won’t be like last time, but it’s always there under the surface – the sniping, judgemental arrogance trying to suppress your obvious ordinariness.

You can put all the spin you want on it, but in the end I know what you are – a voracious parasite taking all you can from everyone you meet.

And the worst part is that I’m a sucker for it. I can’t tear myself away.

I know it will always be like this but like a car crash, I can’t look away. I say to myself “it’s just a bit of harmless fun, I can get out of this without being sucked down to your level.”

And, for a while, things are good, and I think that everything’s going to be ok.

But then, you showed a new side to yourself that shows you haven't changed a bit. I know it's going to be just like last time and I'm so depressed I want to die.

I hate heart hate you Australian Idol.

Saturday, August 05, 2006


So, let me see here, former Olympic athlete doesn’t look quite as ridiculously buff as he did 2 years ago for the Olympics, which, coincidentally saw him grind his way through months of all-day elite fitness training… SURPRISE.

Quick! Let’s put it on the front page!

I really hate the Herald sometimes.