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Showing posts from September, 2007

Man Fills Ice Cube Tray

PERTH: Today a South Perth Man filled his ice cube tray with water. This event was inspired by seeing the item – a white plastic cube tray, approximately 30 cm in length and ten cm in width - sitting in the dishrack. The man, who asked not to be named for fear of reprisals from local organised crime figures, was nonetheless pleased with his quick-thinking action. “This way, the next time I need ice in a drink, it will be available,” he said, “I can assure you, nine times out of ten I forget.” Sources close to ice cube tray confirmed the man’s statement and described him variously as ‘forgetful’ and ‘a typical example of the decline of Australian masculinity. Chips Rafferty would be appalled.”

Someday Your Prince Will Come


Foolishly, I looked to Free-To-Air Television to entertain this afternoon and found the only thing on that wasn't sport, was BARBIE AS THE ISLAND PRINCESS. Now I stoop to comment on the naffness of the animation. The 2D image that accompanies this blog post simply can't deliver the full horror of watching a disgusting 3D elephant (called Tika) emoting. At one point, when Tika was drowning, I wanted her to perish because the top of her head was idiotically high-domed like a Newfoundland hound's (unlike in the above image), her eyes were anthropomorphically forward on her head like a flippin' human and she was puffing her cheeks in and out as she wept with her own tragedy. Pah!

Fortunately the politics were all RIGHT ON, because for awhile it looked as though commoner Ro (Barbie, natch) would be barred from marrying Prince Jerkweed (may have misheard this). Then in the last few momentsit turned out that Ro was, in fact, the long-lost child of a Queen and…

Baby Remember My Name


I've always thought of the lyrics of the song Fame (from the film of the same name) as particularly asinine. But maybe they're quite accurate for some people. What I don't like about them is the unreasonableness of wanting anything like this:

Baby look at me
And tell me what you see
You ain't seen the best of me yet
Give me time I'll make you forget the rest

I got more in me
And you can set it free
I can catch the moon in my hands
Don't you know who I am

Remember my name

I'm gonna live forever
I'm gonna learn how to fly

I feel it coming together
People will see me and cry

Its the fever-dream of someone who doesn't know who they are.

Gen Xs and particularly Gen Ys are very in tune with the notion of being famous no matter what. We have seven seasons of Big Brother to show us that. But just maybe, there is something fundamentally untenable about wanting to be famous and especially wanting to stay famous. In the first case, yo…

Sesqui-Centenary Post


One hundred and fifty posts! Congratulations to us. Me for writing 'em and you for reading some of them - or in the case of a number of you - all of them.

The first 150th celebration I was ever involved in was a little something called WAY '79 or Western Australian Year 1979, which was a year-long event commemorating the European settlement of W.A. There was a jingle, posters, badges and a really cool logo. I thought it was cool then. I'm older now. Its a late 1970s representation of the black swan which is the emblem of our state. Word.

Check out the Wikipedia for more on WAY '79.


Mr Trivia

What Noise Annoys An Oyster?

Zeitgeisters, I live in a small block of flats because I am somewhat of a psycho and have issues about being alone. I’m dealing with it in therapy at the moment, so who knows, I might get over myself eventually.

Anyway, I like the quiet. And my block of flats is mostly that. One of my neighbours regularly arrives home at 3am-ish., but I’m usually on my computer blogging or at least watching Bart John selling the Time-Life "Singers and Songwriters" 3-CD set in a paid presentation on Network 10. I’m an insomniac. Whenever I hear my neighbour’s keys crunching into the lock of her front door I am reminded of these lines:
When a Broadway baby says "Good night,"
It's early in the morning.
Manhattan babies don't sleep tight until the dawn:
Good night, baby,
Good night, milkman's on his way.
Sleep tight, baby,
Sleep tight, let's call it a day,
Listen to the lullaby of old Broadway
The song Lullaby of Broadway was written by Harry Warren and Al Dubin in the…