Thursday, September 28, 2006

Stuff wot one shouldn't have to overhear in the office

"I think I should go to the doctor before it gets infected again."

"It only hurts because I got it pierced again last night."

"She doesn't want the fuckin' gear box she only wants the tyres."

"Can you squeeze it for me?"
These are as described to me by the LovelyWife.

This is the mental picture I have when she relays these antidotes anecdotes:

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Even Rod Stewart's had number one hits...

Yes! Here we go again! Read on only if you’d really quite like a lot of disjointed observations about an entirely forgettable television show.

Let's all just get our sniggering out of the way right now, for tonight's show's theme is number 1s.


First thing tonight, most of the male idols pull out a gameshow host jog up onto the stage when introduced. Takes me back to the good old days when entertainment = Tony Barber.

Panning across the ‘crowd’ tonight, I think there may have been some ‘creative sign making’ taught at Sunday School today with some kiddies in the crowd holding up a cardboard and glitter glue creation saying:

“Deano – chosen by God, chosen by me!”

If, as believed by Whitney Yooston, children are our future, I’m ending it all now.

This week we see the obligatory montage of the idols taking “how to dance like a boy-band member” lessons, led by a couple of suitably faggy dance coaches.

Does that mean an end to the idols acting out their lyrics? An end to Courtney Murphy’s brother’s constipation stance (you know, bending slightly at the knees, squinting and holding out one hand for help)? Dear God!

Klancie with a K is the first to learn how to move like a Young Talent Time reject. With moves like that she’ll be ready for the stage at Westfields across the country in no time.

A friend and I had a discussion recently – which is worse, a national tour of Workers’ Clubs, or a national tour of Westfields during school holidays?

We couldn’t decide, but the idols had better start thinking about this soon as that’s where their career ‘journey’ will end up.

About now I’m considering a divorce as the LovelyWife sings along word for word to Klancie with a K’s ‘number one’ (snigger) choice – If You’re Not in it For Love (or, as sung by Klancie “lah-ah-arve”) by Shania Twain. And then I got in trouble for not knowing the song… (insert raised eyebrows here).

Next time you see Klancie with K, check out her freakishly protruding collar bone. Yeech.

Damien Leith has chosen some Garth Brooks pap, just to prove to the producers that the number 1s theme IS NOT a guarantee of tasteful song choices. Just lots of sniggering in this house…

Just want to break in here and say how horribly unfair it is that this cretin will get to sing at and therefore attend this coming weekend’s AFL grand final (to see the mighty swannies go back to back) and I won’t. As Rick would say “Bastards!”

Just another thing to add to the list of justifications for that killing spree I’m planning – lousyworldfullofinjustice.

Finally, Damien’s boring boring song is over. He’s more and more like an Irish Shannon Noll each week, even if he has lost the filthy little flavour saver beard.

Next up on the ‘dance floor’ is Lavina ‘I’ve got Polynesian soul’ Williams. Not nearly as good-looking in trakkie daks as her sister, but I fear I might be going over old ground there with how teh hawtness Emily was.

But snaps for Lavina! She’s singing my favourite 1986 song ever!

Don’t leave me this way. Let me put it this way, in 1987, the year of my first walkman, I had one cassette tape – the 1986 Top 40 taped from the radio, and the Communard’s cover of this song was on it. So therefore, it was my favourite. That, along with Lady in Red.

Not sure about the entirely untasteful top she’s wearing, what with the abundance of corsetry-style laces all over. More laces than a converse hi-top. I’m tellin’ ya!

Now, we all know that Marcia never really says anything of meaning in her comments (viz “I know you tried hard up there tonight and that’s all I’m going to say” = say what?), but I think she throws in a “you go girlfriend” when she’s really stumped.

For this reason, I’m thinking of tossing this into everyday use in my professional life – for those meetings where I know I’m supposed to be all assertive and confident, but I have nothing to back up my position with:

Some jerk: “So we’re aiming to take this proposal forward for consideration at the 11 July meeting, does anyone have any objections?”

Me: “I think you still haven’t addressed our earlier concerns, and so we’re likely to oppose its consideration, but you go girlfriend!”
Hmm, I smell a promotion!

Up next, Courtney Murphy’s brother. I’m hoping the faggy dance coaches beat the air guitar out of him with a real guitar. Alas, this show brings more disappointment and it is glossed over. But they do pick up on his constipation singing stance.

Wha?! I was joking earlier about Phil Collins being a likely song choice for tonight! But Courtney Murphy’s brother has made a sage of me, singing “Take a Look at Me Now” – stand by for some obvious jokes about how I’d really not prefer to.

It seems the faggy dance coaches have cured the constipation stance problem by gluing his hands to the microphone and stand. Good on ‘em.

The performance was, however, a pile of vomit.

The faggy dance coaches can barely conceal their hot, throbbing man-lust for Dean Geyer – I’m sure there was more than just a bit of:
“No, Dean, you’re moving your hips wrong, let me just move in here behind you real close so you can follow my movements….uh, yeah, that’s iiiitttt."

What is it with Dean Geyer and songs from Triple M’s playlist from 1998-2001? The effect is that every week is just the same basic performance.

Except this week he is exceptionally out of tune. Not that this will matter, thanks to the power of 14 year-old girls with unlimited SMS plans.

Something from the Goo Goo Dolls this time. Next week, something by Nickleback or Three Doors Down, even if the theme is the Beatles or Motown. You’ll see.

Now look, I’d really prefer not to write anything about Guy Mutton, but for the sake of completeness, here goes.

What an utter utter tool, this man is.

And to back that up, he’s singing Hoobastank. Hoobastank Guy Mutton? Yoobastank. Real bad.

Jessica Mauboy. She really is Whitney Yooston. I don’t care what you say. Jess sings a “Christina Aguilera classic” (classic - wtf?!?!?) Beautiful.

She’s wheeled out her year 10 formal dress for that touch of elegance tonight and I think we should all be quite happy with this song choice.

After Kyle’s taunts last week I think this would only have been topped if she’d sung that new song “Shut up Kyle you fat, thick fuck” – but I don’t think that’s hit number 1 (snigger!) yet, so it probably wasn’t eligible. Shame.

But yes, a ‘touchdown’, which is just as lame a gimmick as it was in the previous gajillion series. Surprise!

The faggy dance coaches are quite tactful about Bobby Flynn in the ‘learning to dance’ montage. At least in front of the cameras anyway…

Bobby’s singing Arthur’s Theme and is dressed even more like a first-year Arts student than ever before.

Bobby’s performance is as close to muzak in prime time as you’re gonna get and it would be my pick for worst performance of the night except for Guy Mutton… I can’t honestly pick what audience segment would have enjoyed that.

Thence to Ricky Muscat, who I reckon probably kicked on with the faggy dance coaches for a ‘special’ coaching session afterwards, if you know what I mean – and if you get grotesquely obvious double entendres, then I’m sure that you will.

Ricky’s singing something by Chicago which being a ‘hit’ from 1982, would have to have been released before he was born into his life of chemical-wharehouse-servitude. Who picked this? His music teacher? Lame!

Tonight Ricky’s performance is full of boy-band-esque fist-pumping histrionics.

So yes, I think it’s fair to say there’s definitely been some one-on-one ‘body movement’ coaching going on (or ‘getting it awn’ – you choose).

Lisa Mitchell is the last contestant so the end is in sight – for this recap and for Lisa Mitchell. Well, I can only hope – on both counts.

She’s singing Vanessa Carlton’s A Thousand Miles.

Tomorrow’s headline – “Vanessa Carlton travels many thousand miles to take revenge on Lisa Mitchell for singing her only hit like a strangled cat having its temperature taken”.

Mark Holden is still desperately trying to justify his previous “best thing musically to come out of this country” comment, so he wiggles his way up her arse just that little bit more with some fakey fake praise.

So yes, the end of another instalment of my bloggy-come-lately Australian Idol recapping.

Do I have a tip for tomorrow night’s boot-ee?

I’m going to have to go with Ricky Muscat to at least be in the bottom three, and maybe also Courtney Murphy’s brother – but that’s just me hopin’.

Does Bobby Flynn have any fans? He’s going to need them.

But I shouldn’t make such predictions – I constantly predicted Shannon Noll would drop off the face of the competition, but even now he’s still around, wailing about in his computer-enhanced voice (it’s like vocal air-brushing, and it makes him sound like a Bee Gee).

Note that the verdict show will be on at an odd time due to the live telecast of Adam Goodes winning his second Brownlow.

Yeah baby!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Looking after number one

PROGRAM Australian Idol
EPISODE Final 10: Number Ones.
DATE 24 September
TIME 7.30pm
DESCRIPTION The 10 most talented singers in the country will take to the Australian Idol stage, and step up and sing for their once-in-a-lifetime chance at becoming a recording superstar. Hosted by Andrew G and James Mathison. Tonight's theme: Number One's.

Coupla things:
1) "10 most talented singers in the country"?

I don't need to come up with any jokes of my own if the Ten Network program listing writers keep coming up with this gold.

2) "Tonight's theme: Number One's"

Massive snigger!

Not too keen on the superfluous apostrophe, but willing to overlook it in anticipation of the laughs I'm gonna get on Sunday night when I hear "number ones" over and over again.

With this theme, the producers obviously think that they'll be able to force the idols to pick something popular/tasteful, but I don't think they've counted on the propensity for Australians to send absolute rubbish to the top of the charts.

Let's peruse a sample list of previous number ones (guffaw!):

Get outta my dreams and into my car - Billy Ocean

A groovy kind of love - Phil Collins

When will I be famous - Bros

Nice choice for the group performance, dontcha think?

All that she wants - Ace of Base

(Ooh Aah) Just a little bit - Gina G

Tucker's daughter - Ian Moss

Right here waiting - Richard Marx
Oh no, wait. Someone already sang that. And got booted!

I rest my case.

Insert Naked Gun joke here

So I'm curious to know, is there a proper way to handle one's gun when naked?

So many jokes to be made. So little time. So little maturity.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006


In which Tobias decides to pounce on and kill the camera...

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Rock, paper, scissors, assisted suicide.

I’m giving this live blogging thing a go for tonight’s Australian Idol.

Be nice, it’s my first go.

07.30 The show starts with a reminder of what happens when you bring Richard Marx into the homes of the country – YOU GET BOOTED, just like Joseph whatshisface. Who we’ve all already forgotten about.

07.31 This week’s theme is ‘rock’ – so will we see power ballads or powderfinger? I’m REALLY hoping for some Warrant (‘she’s my cherry pie…’) or some Van Halen. I think I might be disappointed…

If I were playing a drinking game, it would include a ‘take a chug’ for every time someone said ‘rock chick’ or ‘rock god’. And it looks like everyone think rock = 1970s rock or just not shaving for a week.

07.34 Oh God, Mark Holden just made his first ‘devil’ finger sign. It’s going to be a long 90 minutes.

07.36 So, if the stylists have spent ages ‘transforming’ the idols into ‘rock gods’, does that mean that each will get grilled by the judges for “not being true to themselves”, as they did last week? I expect consistency in my reality TV, so they better had.

And why are we seeing a montage of the stylist’s childhood? This has to be THE NEW LOW for Idol filler material.

Kicking off with Ricky “Jorge Bek killah” Muscat. And he’s going to murder some Franz Ferdinand. Choice.

Dear God, this is almost “Daniel Bell singing Robbie Williams” bad (please watch the linked video if you've not seen it before - gold).

I think the LovelyWife is going to bring up her dinner. I’m glad Tobias is currently asleep. I don’t want him learning the swears she is currently dishing out.

07.48 I’m starting to think Lisa Mitchell is a one-trick pony – can she do anymore than mumble along in her kooky accent? I doubt.

One minute into her performance and the LovelyWife asks, “is she singing yet”? I have to support her here (the wife, that is), Lisa’s being consistently out-sung by the back-up singers. Oh wait, sorry, she has black nail polish on. OMG so HARDCORE!

07.53 Do they script these piss-weak fights between the judges? If I could be bothered pressing the ‘7’ button on my phone that many times I’d text “zzzzzzzzzzzzzz” to 199-revenue raising Judge.

07.54 Has anyone noticed that the new upper level of the stage has a ‘hand painted’ sign for each performer which have so obviously been made by the props department?

They’ve obviously tried to make them look as though fans have brought them in, but they’re too neat and the letters spelling out the names (which are correctly spelled – a massive give away) are evenly spaced and don’t get all bunched up towards the edgewhenthespacerunsout…

07.56 Guy Mutton. All I’m going to say is that I’m never actually going to type or say the nick name they’ve given him.

Hang on a sec. He’s shadow boxing? To coldplay? I was eating some off strawberries before. Maybe I’m hallucinating. Whilst I know that ‘vomit’ is not ordinarily used as a noun, that was a real vomit of a performance.

08.01 He just did the “phone me” mime into his microphone. DIE DIE DIE.

08.06 Klancie with a K – not sure yet how I feel about her. She did sing the Dixie Chicks, which gains points. Chances are she’s a National Party voter and has been to a B&S Ball, so minus a million points for her.

She’s singing something from 1986. Wikipedia defines 1986 as a common year starting on Wednesday of the Gregorian calendar. On January 21 the first National Hugging Day was observed and on October 11 Ronald Reagan and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev met in Reykjav√≠k, Iceland, in an effort to continue discussions about scaling back their intermediate missile arsenals in Europe (the talks break down in failure).

Woops! I totally got easily distracted and missed out on Klancie’s performance! Damn it!

08.16 Bobby Flynn. The stylist describes him as “an individual” and says that there’s “nobody like him in the competition” and says this with the desperation of someone trying awfully hard not to say “he has a square head and a big, 1980’s woman’s hair cut”.

Wow. Bobby sings a bit like he’s having a seizure. Lots of closed eyes, jolted movements and high-pitched squealy noises. Maybe dogs will vote for him, as I think only they can hear some of his notes.

08.23 Reigan Derry. Reeeeeeeeeeigan Derry. Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeigan Derry. Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeigan Derry. Oh, sorry. Just trying to keep myself entertained while she’s singing.

Oh no. That’s a shame. Reigan is acting out the lyrics with hand movements (pointing to her eyes when she sings “so glad you see” and pointing to the ground when she sings “bring me down”). Going to have to hack off her arms with a rusty hacksaw for that.

08.33 Damien Leith looks like he’s going to a fancy dress party dressed as a ‘rocker’. Ten out of ten, ‘style’ department. He’s about as ‘rock’ as a christian air guitar contest.

Damien sings track 3 from “rock songs by men who sing like girls” – Radiohead’s Creep. More like ‘cretin’, if you ask the LovelyWife. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says “Buddhist” and is wearing a crucifix. Rock on!

I have to say, I don’t really like any of this year’s contestants. I don’t even really hate any of them either. Makes it really hard to blog about them. This might end up being a one-off exercise.

08.44 Up next is Whitney Houston Jessica Mauboy. Oh wait, tonight she’s being Kelly Clarkson. Cute. But she still manages to slip in a couple of Whitney-style glory notes and random, gratuitous “wooo” noises throughout the verses.

Oooo! Kyle just called her fat! Reowr! Scripted controversy! I like.

08.50 Ahhh, Courtney Murphy’s brother. I really like to loathe this guy. He only has one move on stage – crouch slightly whilst closing eyes and holding up his non-microphone hand. You watch next week. You’ll see.

Tonight he has also brought his air guitar. Tonight he is wearing denim. Tonight, he’s about as close as it gets to getting David Brent out on stage to sing.


There’s a slow hand clap starting up in our house for the end of this show.

One of the recurring ads this evening is for the Monster Trucks at the Canberra Greyhound club . Wow! You’re all so jealous you don’t live here, huh!

09.00 Okay, the show should be over now, but we still have 2 performers to go. The first of which is DRUG MUFFINS Lavina Williams. Now, long time CSH afficianados may remember I had a bit a thing for Emily Williams last year.

Let me tell you the feeling doesn’t appear to run in the family.

The LovelyWife says she reminds her of Jennifer Coolidge.

Maybe not.

Dang! I missed another whole performance! I think it was just a 2-minute long glory note anyway.

So this is like, my longest post evah!

09.10 Dean picks another song from the LovelyWife’s list of “songs she wishes never to hear again” – something called ‘Shimmer’, that I think was the only song on the radio in 1998.

9.15 So that’s all the singers done now. I can’t believe I blogged the whole thing! As Kim Beazley once said after a commanding performance in Question Time: NEVER AGAIN!

Tuesday, September 12, 2006


Part one in a new series I like to call Signs I Have Enjoyed:

This one was spotted in Melbourne over the weekend. Looks like I'm not the only one who is flabbergasted at the willingness of pedestrians to lemming themselves onto busy roads without warning or a zebra crossing.

Keep an eye out for my other new series, Parking I Have Not Enjoyed:

For fark's sake!

Luckily (or not, depending on how you look at it), living in Canberra means this could be a potentially endless series.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Stingray Shot through the heart! And you're to blame...

One thing I've noticed over the past couple of days, what with all the "aussie icons" carking it "doing what they loved", is that tributes only ever "pour in".

Seriously, it's always "tributes are pouring in for Steve Brock Irwin who died today, triggering a bajillion Australians to email the story to all their friends, with the subject line: 'Crikey!'".

You never hear "tributes are trickling in for insert cadaver's name here" or "a modest number of tributes have come in for former human".

And if tributes "pour in", where or what are they pouring into? The bottomless pit of sensationalist tabloid news? The gaping void of my yawning mouth?

I've really started to get the irrates with the way people have been getting so distraught about the deaths of celebrities who they've never even met, let alone formed a meaningful, two way relationship with.

You just wait until the tacky-renaming-of-things-in-honour-of-Steve-Irwin begins.

The Steve Irwin Maternity Ward anyone?

I promise you, these things are already being proposed with government, and my suggestion is not too far off.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Think about it

There's been some knickers knotting over the inclusion of Osama Bin Laden in the list of people Jack Thomas is forbidden to contact.

The way I see it, leave Bin Laden off the list.

The CIA, FBI and US Army have scoured the planet trying to find him, only to come up with a big fat zero.

But it seems the Australian Government thinks that Jack Thomas knows where he is.

So why not permit Thomas to contact Bin Laden, and just follow him there?

It'd be a bit of a coup, really.