Will Type For Food



kidattypewriter

Monday, November 04, 2019

Chunder of wonder

TIPS BY FASHION EXPERT RITA BUTTHOSE

Well girls, the big day is almost here, the one day of the year when you will go to the Melbourne Cup and get shitfaced and then vomit all over everything while some skank from the Herald Sun photographs you. But have you really prepared for this enough? Are you ready for the moment when you vomit all over everything while some skank for the Herald Sun photographs you? Here are four Etiquette Tips for the Fashion Forward you might like to consider before heading out for the big spray, er, I mean big day tomorrow.

1. Remember to vomit in the rubbish bin, not the recycling. 
I mean, really. Let's get the basics out of the way first. This is just basic courtesy.

2. Colour code your vomits. 
I can't tell you how many times I've seen a boring, bland array of beige vomit after beige vomit at this famous affair. Is it really so much trouble to colour code your upchucks? I think not. Remember, basic fashion rules still apply: use contrasting colours (but not too much), and sometimes just the right component - a strategically-placed chunk of carrot, for instance - will really draw the whole ensemble together. Try not to match the colour of your vomit to your boyfriend's outfit (he'll probably do that anyway, in that unconscious way men have).

3. Strategise
Now really - is there any point in getting ready for the day when you're going to get shitfaced and then vomit all over everything while some skank from the Herald Sun photographs you if the skank from the Herald Sun can't even see you properly amongst all the mud and crap and stuff. With that attitude, you probably shouldn't even bother. No, you have to really select the right patch of lawn or the right tent to offset the delicate yet melodious timbres of your cry of Ruth. And if it's a young Arabian prince striding out of the Emirates tent, all the better!

4. Social messages
You've got to think of the messages you're sending out when you vomit all over someone. Sure, you may not mean to make a boy think you like him when you chunder all over his manly chiselled jaw, but might he? Be careful who you chuck up all over, is all I'm saying. Unless it's a young Arabian prince striding out of the Emirates tent, what could possibly go wrong if you chuck up all over him?

Well, that's it, girls - have fun!

Friday, October 18, 2019

Five alternatives to unsolicited dick pics

Men of the World! Instead of sending unsolicited dick pics to the Women of the World, why not try these saucy alternatives?

- Unsolicited duck pics!

- Unsolicited chick pics!
(In case you run out of ducks, baby chickens are always good).

- Unsolicited dock pics.
(Who doesn't love a good pier?)

- Unsolicited ticks!


- Unsolicited brick picks!



(Sample unsolicited duck pic. Because, er, you didn't solicit for it.)

So never say I never do anything nice for you. By the way, here's a previous poem I wrote on the subject, you really should pay me for this, oh wait, you can. 

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

The Unstoppable Unstoppable

Last week before German class I found myself dreaming about asking my Finnish teacher about the 15 Finnish case systems. I don't even have a Finnish teacher - but there are 15 Finnish case systems, more or less*, so my dream was not completely lying. As a result, I found myself before the German class engaged in the productive activity of researching Finnish declination. Due to the ludicrously high number of grammatical cases in Finnish, as you can imagine, it was a rich and productive and fertile activity.

This week, German class being on tonight, what did I find myself dreaming about last night but Swedish grammar. What is it with my mind and the Far North? I was in fact deeply involved in a dream conversation with the Baron about it all, and even managed to discover a completely new item of grammar: 'unstoppables'. Linguists may quibble and argue that such items do not exist at all, but in my dream we were quite sure about it. Here's how my dream conversation went down:

ME: So, how about after I finish learning German I learn the other Germanic languages Swedish and Norwegian and Icelandic and become an expert in the languages of the far north? 

BARON: Swedish is a hard language to translate into English, though. 

ME: Oh? Why's that? 

BARON: It's because of the unstoppable. The Swedish unstoppable is different to the English unstoppable. 

ME: How's that? 

BARON: Oh, well, it's - you see.... it just is. 

ME: What is an unstoppable, anyway? 

BARON: It's kind of hard to define. 

ME: Hm. Can you give me an example of an unstoppable. 

BARON: I.... um.... well... 

And there the conversation stopped (maybe because we'd forgotten to include an English unstoppable). I however remained convinced that a great and hitherto unrevealed point about world grammar lay just beyond my grasp.

As you can imagine, I'm really looking forward to my dream before next German class. Maybe, having previously invented a Finnish teacher and a new item of Swedish and English grammar, next time I'll invent a whole new language. Who knows? By the way, this blog is apparently my dream journal now. Please notify your local Freudian.

*It depends who you ask. Personally, I think, as a democratic modern language Finnish should remodify its case system so there is one case for every new Finnish speaker. That way nobody feels like they're missing out on anything. I shall be forwarding this proposal to Helsinki University shortly. 

Monday, October 07, 2019

New exciting forms of argument!

Argumentum ad hominem - attacking the person, not the argument.

ad homonym - attacking the person's name.

ad homophone - arguing with a gay telephone.

ad homophony - using music to attempt to bring harmony to our fractured moden world.

ad Eminen - winning arguments rap-battle style.

add M&M - bribing the opposition with chocolate - also, yes please.

Saturday, September 28, 2019

Shouting random letters at football fans

Being an old sort of codger now, I've been going to the Dan O'Connell Saturday pub poetry sessions for well nigh on 10 years. It's an impressive stretch of time for any pub poetry session to be going (the Dan poetry's been going for over twice that long, a quarter of a century in fact), but even more impressive is that somehow the old joint keeps this up week after week. Even - to the surprise and bemusement of most Melbourne locals - during the AFL Grand Final, for most of those 25 years at least. This act always seemed a little strange, even sacrilegious - the bar would often be packed with punters there to watch the football and a bunch of poets would turn up. Sometimes, it's true, they put us all in the beer garden. On one memorable occasion, Geoff Lemon was the feature at exactly the same time as his team were playing in the final - consequently, and it has to be admitted rather apologetically on his part, he seemed rather more interested in the events going on on television than the poets around him. Such was the strangeness of this yearly occurrence that once, I even wrote a series of 'Team songs for writing' and found myself shouting them at a pub full of grand final viewers and a motley bunch of poets. I even got them to spell out the name - 'Give me an A! Give me an R! etc' - of an Ancient Greek writer or two. And there were rousing (well, rousing for me at least) odes to punctuation:

Well there she was a writin' in her book
(Singin' semi-colons apostrophes and dots)
Usin' commas hyphens quotation marks full-stops
(Singin' semi-colons apostrophes and dots)
Upper case! (Upper case!)
Lower case! (Lower case!)
Upper case lower case punctuation is so fine!
(Singin' semi-colons apostrophes and dots)

(Those team songs for writing, and a few other footy-related pieces are in my latest book, Hangover Music, by the way. You should totally buy a copy!)

Good times, good times. But all good times must come to an end, and this was no exception. Poetry at the Dan for this week is on a Sunday (weirdly it all feels less sacrilicious than having it on a Grand Final Saturday). It's not quite the same doing it without yelling baffling metaphors at a crowd of indifferent or even hostile footy fans, but life is about change.

In the meantime, living in Melbourne and all, I even adopted a football team, in that way you do. I did it either because they were just about the worst team and not likely to win a final any time soon, or because they had the best song. That team has since had the bad grace to win the grand final twice, one of those occasions being this afternoon. But their song, I am pleased to say, has remained consistently awesome. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was the song.

To conclude, and on an unrelated note, here is a poem, of sorts.

Is Tigger the Tigger that's best with the ball? 
Is Tigger the best of them all?
For Eeyore is down, and Pooh Bear is out 
And Christopher Robin is aged and stout - 
Is Tigger the tiggerest Tigger of all? 

See Tigger go tigger all over the hall, 
With vigorous, tiggerous call - 
There can be no doubt, he's winning the bout, 
It's a riot, a rort, an absolute rout - 
Yes, Tigger's the tigger that stands proud and tall - 
For Tiggers the best Tigger out of them all! 

Thursday, September 19, 2019

I'm sorry, we're all out of Sturm und Drang, would you care for the lemonade?

Okay, so you're in the audience and sitting down to watch the third scene of Richard Wagner's cool and exciting new opera, Die Walküre. The music strikes up and you already feel as if you have drunken the mead of Valhalla. As the curtain rises, you see the 'Gipfel eines Felsenberges' (the peak of a rocky cliff) right next to a 'Tannenwald' (fir forest). There's a 'Blitzesglanz' (a flash of lightning), and framed in this dramatic tableau you see a Valkyrie on top of the mountain on a HORSE, over which lies 'ein erschlagener Krieger' - a slain warrior. (Because it's the 19th century and nobody's budget extends that far, even Richard Wagner's, the horse is probably made out of wood and creaks as it's drawn here and there on stage, but what the hell - the orchestra just plays a little louder at those moments). The point is - this is just ludicrously romantic! - gigantic mountains next to vast forests, lightning flashes in the clouds, GODDESSES ON HORSIES! This is as cool, as nonsensical, and as utterly necessary as the elephants in Aida.

Just kidding, you're sitting in the audience for a modern production of Walküre and instead of galloping around on the mountain tops out of the clouds, the Valkyries are shifting bodies around in a shabby old pile of rock like so many pieces of furniture in a rental house.

Bring back the horses!



(Post a follow on from a discussion with Steve.)

Thursday, September 05, 2019

Excuses for hipsters

Sorry I'm late, I was busy teaching yoga to my goat.

I was crocheting individualised bonnets for my bees' feet. This winter has been cold, you know.

Excuse me, my beard got caught in my fixie.

It was an emergency! My tweed jacket clashed with the Weltanschauung.

My craft brew and I were undergoing an individualised counselling session to help us achieve self-actualisation as a couple.

I was bookbinding a recipe book with twine made out of my cats' fur.

So sorry! I had trouble fitting Buttons, my alpaca, in the train on the way here. Did we miss anything?

My kefir had emotional issues.

I got lost in my beard and couldn't find my way out.

We ran out of kale! It was an emergency!

Wednesday, July 03, 2019

A little Bildung is a dangerous thing

German cliche poem 

Sehnsucht for Schadenfreude! 
My Weltschmerz smarts today.
Perhaps it's just the Zeitgeist, 
But my Trauma's all tun weh. 

Perhaps I'll learn to like it - 
Go back to Kindergarten, 
Where die Welt is ohne Schmerz, 
All Freude, and no Schaden. 

No, this Klima's not so prima, 
And my Angst has taken fright - 
I think I'll have a Wanderung
In my Waldeinsamkeit. 

Saturday, June 29, 2019

Football

So, there's football, football, football and football*.

And when you talk about football, people have got to ask, do you mean football, or football?

And when you say football, they say, nar mate, football's not really football, the only true football is football.

Which it may or it may not be, but you end up arguing about which football is really football, or if football and football can be football also.

But at any rate, we all agree, even if football and football and football are not (or are really) the one true football alongside football, which may not really be football at all, you only call football football. You don't call football anything other than football, any more than you'd call football something different to football. Because if you don't call football, football, football and football football, that way madness lies.

And in the end, isn't the football of football the real football of football? After all, football football football football football football football, doesn't it!

*There's also football, but let's not mention that. 

Sunday, May 26, 2019

Laut Lout

'Lautgedicht' is German for 'Sound Poem' (it could also mean 'loud poem' though), in news which may or may not explain anything. 'Lautgesicht', the name of this poem, means 'Loudface'. Oh, come on, it's not like I haven't written a poem based on a stupid pun before, is it?

LAUTGESICHT

Deine Augen krachen, krachen,
Deine Wimpern klingen -
Wie Glocken groß, im Kirche Turm,
Die stark und lustig singen!

Und ach, der Wind von deinem Mund,
Dass immer so fort weht,
Wie Donnerklang, wie Sturm und Drang -
Ich frage mich, was geht?

Und dann, die Wangen! Heftige blasen
Von die Posaune schickt -
Ja, alles klar, ich höre noch
Ein SUPER LAUTGESICHT.

Anyway, now that I've lost your attention, if you're in Melbourne this Sunday, I'll have a poetry feature at The Motley Bauhaus, at their monthly 'P Word Poetry Sessions' - the event starts at 4 pm, I'll be reading later in the day: maybe around 6. Come and say hi!

Sunday, May 19, 2019

Pyoetr

An election confection

Labor or Liberal
Laberal lubber
Babble on blabber all
Blobbable blubber
Loobyloo lubbardly
Dullard today
Down to the lullingly
Labial lay
Of the oovidly groovidly 
Foovidly Green
Passionate fashionate 
Keen-to-be-seen 
Vivavug groovishly 
Woowawoog woon
Noogishum soogishum
Wungawip bloon - 
A, B, or C, D, 
E for Economy, 
For G huggermug 
I, J, K-onomy. 
Mama the government
Grants money to some - 
Vote for More Moolah! 
FEE FI FO FUM. 

Thursday, May 09, 2019

Consider your awareness raised

Today is Hedgehog Awareness Week, which is a strange span of time for a day, but there you go. Did you know that there is a designated hedgehog for every hedge around the world? I didn't know that either, but it's amazing what facts can tell you when you let them if you let them.

Now to raise your awareness even further, here is a hedgehog.


Wasn't that elevating? So you can see that hedgehogs exist. (Shame on you for disbelieving in the existence of hedgehogs!*)

Here is a list of famous hedgehogs:

- Mrs Tiggy Winkle
- Mr Pricklepants
- Winston Churchill
- Sonic the hedgehog

Consider your awareness of hedgehogs raised, fellow citizens!

*Now Australia, on the other hand, that place definitely doesn't exist. ** 

**Echidnas do, but Australia, definitely not. 

Tuesday, May 07, 2019

The Other Dirty Thirty

Having just avoided participating in the Dirty Thirty Poetry Month in April (thirty days, thirty writing prompts, one per day) - it's become something of an annual festival with me, avoiding this event - you'd think I'd happily sit back and not think about it. But no! Why should poets have all the fun, after all? A far more common creative form, if you ask me, is the company circular, the monthly business fiscal update, the mundane board report composed by an unimportant mid-level HR drone.

To that end, I have composed the following:

Thirty writing prompts for mundane board reports

1. Discuss a potential rebranding strategy.

2. Outline your acquisitions portfolio.

3. Compare your company's sales on a month-by-month basis with those of other companies.

4. Hey, sales have been up in the third quarter!

5. Hey, sales have been down in the third quarter!

6. Hey, sales have stagnated in the third quarter!

7. Raise the prospect of future mergers.

8. Forecast some developments in the international markets.

9. Fill a page full of obscure acronyms that even your accountancy department will struggle to recognise.

10. Make a pie chart of the different sections of the company.

11. Make a bar graph of the same.

12. Paste a picture of the CEO on the page with the caption "our CEO".

13. Describe a development as "in line with expectations".

14. Write a series of sub-headings for the CFO's report!

15. Write a paragraph containing no rhymes whatsoever!

16. Use the acronym EBITDA 10 times in the one page.

17. Discuss difficulties you have had with your suppliers.

18. Use the words "going forward" on the first page of the report.

19. Chart international sales on a month-by-month basis.

20. Do the same on a year-by-year basis.

21. Discuss specific targets for your company.

22. Compare and contrast taxation and company responses to taxation in different countries.

23. Make a list of corporate responsibilities. Put a tick next to each of them!

24. Outline further opportunities for growth.

25. Discuss risks your productions sector will have to deal with.

26. Make a Venn diagram!

27. List five corporate strategies for the coming financial year. Use bullet points.

28. Use a photo of one of your factories, and come up with a banal caption for it!

29. Discuss the reasons for financial losses in the previous quarter.

30. Make up another graph just because, and colour it in. Use lots of grey!

Monday, May 06, 2019

WTFF news - artists run out of silos to paint

AUSTRALIA, Australia - an artistic crisis has swept the nation, as artists have finally run out of silos to paint on.

"Without any more silos to paint on, what will happen to the local arts?" says a local artist, after putting the finishing touches to her silo. "Clearly, the government needs to support artists more by commissioning more silos, which we will then paint."

"We will not rest until there is a silo for every paddock in Australia."

Meanwhile, others have called for there to be no more silos built, and for the existing silos to be simply re-used or for artists to return to using sheets of paper, but these others have been dismissed by other others as being idiots.

As terror swept the nation following the announcement of the dreadful silo shortage, sorrow also swept the nation following the announcement that the iconic bushman, who artists painted in iconic bush scenes on all those silos, was in the hospital with a cold and might not be available for painting any more iconic bush scenes on the silos for at least three days or so.  In addition, mild concern also swept the nation following announcement of an imminent lamp post shortage for people to do guerrilla knitting for.

"We are mildly concerned", said a national citizen.

Fig 1 - Silos painted in an abstract style.

Sunday, April 28, 2019

Woke in Fright

HANDSHAKES could be banned under new workplace rules to avoid expensive sexual harassment claims, an expert has said. - The Sun

SCENE: The conclusion of an interview between TOFU PENNYFEATHERS and MR GOBSMITES.  

MR GOBSMITES: Well, Mr Pennyfeathers, I've got to admit, we're very impressed. I've taken time to read your thesis on the literary works of Laurie Penny, and it has some astounding insights. And the way you managed to tackle the subjects of 'mansplaining' and 'manspreading' in this interview without actually mansplaining or manspreading at all was particularly well done.

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS: Thank you, I just think it's so important that we as a society move forward from the old patriarchal hegemony, you know?

MR GOBSMITES: And you've managed to make your way through the interview without once placing a single pronoun wrong!

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS (airily): Well, they wouldn't like it if we mischaracterised xir as srm, would they? Hahahahahaha.

MR GOBSMITES: Ha. Yes, well, we'll be speaking to a few other candidates first. But for now (folding hands) there's just something else I'd like to raise.

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS: Oh, of course, of course!

MR GOBSMITES: I bet you think you're pretty clever, don't you?

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS: Oh absolutely, it's just so.... wait, what did you say?

MR GOBSMITES: Yes, it was very good, Mr Pennyfeathers, very good - almost perfect. But you made one slip up. One mistake. And it was a big one.

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS: I.... no, it's impossible. What? What are you talking about? I haven't done anything!

MR GOBSMITES: It was.... (voice deepens dramatically) THE HANDSHAKE!

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS: Nooooooooooooooooooooo!

(Door bursts open, the THOUGHT POLICE, wearing CLEMENTINE FORD masks crowd into the room and belabour TOFU PENNYFEATHERS with truncheons).

MR GOBSMITES (removing false hand, throwing it in the rubbish bin): I'm afraid, Mr Pennyfeathers, we will have to be removing you to our correctional facilities forthwith.

TOFU PENNYFEATHERS (weeping bitter tears of remorse, as they drag him away): NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I CAN CHANGE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Saturday, April 20, 2019

A Defence of Good, Old-fashioned Food

A Defence of Good, Old-Fashioned Food 

Patch (dog & food critic)

by renowned food critic Patch.

Australia has had nothing less than a food revolution over the past few decades, and a good thing, too. The best quality meals from right around the world are easily available, catering to all preferences: vegetarian, lactose intolerant, paleo, canned dog food. But in these sophisticated, modern times, sometimes, let's admit it, we need to return to the simple pleasures of eating any old thing lying on the ground.

And really, have we become too sophisticated, these days? Looking down our noses at those who eat any old thing lying on the ground is easy to do, but I ask you, where can you find a greater culinary variety than on the ground? Scraps of pizza, sausage roll, kebabs, some old fish you can also roll in before you wolf it down - it truly is a delight for all the senses! And I am convinced that doctors will soon advocate this practice, as all the essential nutrients of life can be found in the any old thing that happens to be lying on the ground that you are in the act of eating.

I have of course eaten in many fine establishments: bars, restaurants, cafes. I am no strange to any of the fine foods of the world, be they pasta, sushi, pate, or the rich and satisfying palate of European cheeses. But you might be surprised to know I have also found these things lying on the ground. Taken with a little seasoning, perhaps, from the open rubbish bin which happens to be next to the ground that the food is lying around on. Yes, it is clear, you can live like a bon vivant at very little expense.

And, after all, what activity could be more in keeping with our modern values - freeganism, dumpster diving, ecological and agricultural sustainability? If you think about it, eating any old thing lying on the ground is not just a pleasure - it's a public service.

So my fellow epicures, hold your heads high - while bending them down to scoff up any old thing just lying on the ground - you've got to be quick, before some other epicure gets it!

PATCH RECOMMENDS:
- The footpath outside the Bright IGA, both sides of the street. "An old favourite, this, but still manages to deliver a rich and satisfying melange of old and new food stuffs, full of delightful contrasts." 

- The park along the Ovens River. "A delightfully convivial atmosphere where the experienced gastronome can sniff out some true wonders. Well known for their classics, the lamb chop and the sausage, this scenic venue has lately really branched out and now offers a greater variety than ever before. Try the rotting fish carcass, it's wonderful!"

- The soggy dusty Weetbix on the Hargreaves Road hill. "Sorry, you can't eat this, I've eaten it already, but it was one of the culinary wonders of the world."

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

The rules

Orchestral music should never be played in the afternoon. Romantic piano concertos are particularly depressing at that time.

Chamber music, string quartets, Lieder, etc, are particularly good in the evening.

Epic orchestral works are best appreciated around midnight.

Baroque music is an exception to the no-orchestral-music-between-midday-and-midnight rule. Mostly because it was written for orchestras before orchestras were invented.

In general, though, you should try to arrange for the day to be cold, rainy, or snowing when listening to baroque music.

Baroque music is especially good when it has viols. Make sure it has viols in it. Actually, everything is better with viols.

Ideally, the musicians should be there in the room with you.

There are solos, duets, trios, quartets, and quintets. Everything above has a technical name but is basically an orchestra.

If you can't fit them onto a rotunda there's probably too many.

English horns > oboes.
Oboes > bassoons.
Clarinets.... it's kind of a grey area.
Bassoons have unique comic value though.

There ought to be more music for hurdy-gurdies.

Orchestras should have both an English horn and a French horn. A car horn is right out.

Homophony is just polyphony in disguise.

Polyphony is just homophony in surprise.

Atonality is just tonality in wild surmise.

It is not clear when atonal music should be listened to. Please consult your doctor or pharmacist and take only as advised.

Except for Stravinsky, whose atonal music should be listened to frequently, in the early morning, while it is still fresh.

Friday, March 01, 2019

The perils of poetry

Dad noticed one of those silly "This door is alarmed" signs the other day and suggests in his letter "This.... could be a subject for a comical/quizzical bit of poetry.... Why not see what you can make of this idea."

Sure thing Dad!

This door is alert. 
This door is alarmed. 
This door is anxious as fuck. 
This door is happy. 
This door is sad. 
This door has a full emotional range, man, this door is not just open and fucking shut. 

Now excuse me while I never send this poem to Dad at all.

Monday, February 25, 2019

In the spirit of our advanced and progressive modern age, here are some new swear words

Saw a meme the other day saying there sometimes weren't enough swear words to express how you really felt. Well, I thought, that's easily fixed.

NEW SWEAR WORDS

Fumshuck it! 

Absolute twunk! 

Flump-membered snithead! 

Quindiddle! 

You damp pair of underpangles! 

Tumsnag. 

Dingle-daggle. 

Floop them! 

Tip-dwingles! 

Shugger you! 

Blarfulent! 

Blatch-snatting. 

Gribbler. 

Skang-monging. 

Fludging fludger! 

If you know what they mean - good heavens, please don't explain them to me!

UPDATE: Hey, if you want an excuse to use these new swear words now - or some of your own - why not buy this elegant publication and swear at the badly-placed apostrophes or errors of syntax?


Friday, February 15, 2019

A Contentious Issue Discussed by Two Apathetic People

(Incredibly timely humour from me, as you can see...)

Hello, and welcome to another episode of A Contentious Issue Discussed by Two Apathetic People. In today's episode, that Gillette ad. On the one hand, all men are rapists, but on the other hand, this ad is basically going to save civilisation. Let's welcome our two experts! Expert A, are all men rapists? 

EXPERT A: No really fussed about that issue, mate.

So you're not taking it personally. But if the critics of this ad are to be believed, it basically says you are personally to blame and you should go out and shoot yourself as of last week. 

EXPERT A: Yeah, still not bothered.

Whoa. Okay. Expert B, you're just a crazy feminazi, aren't you? Isn't it a little hurtful to be stigmatising all men in this way? 

EXPERT B: Oh man,. don't ask me about it. I haven't even been following this story. Hey, I don't even have a TV!

Wow. A strong refutation, Expert A. Any response? Can you even begin to defend yourself against that, you sexist racist patriarchist heteronormative bastard piece of shit? 

(EXPERT A has gone off in an unfussed manner to make a cup of tea).

Okay, Expert A appears to have gone off in an unfussed manner to make a cup of tea. Expert B, any concluding remarks? 

EXPERT B: I mean., how did you even find me, man? Hey, maybe you should speak to my nan, she gets the paper, like, all the time, I mean, it's just to keep up with the racing results, but still...

More good points. Thanks for your time, Experts. It seems these issues remain unresolved. Join us tomorrow, when we see if they even give a shit about nuclear war. 

Friday, December 14, 2018

An ever so subtle hint about BUY MY BOOK!

Isn't it just awful how Christmas become so commercialised? On an unrelated note, my book would make a great Christmas present for everyone you know, and the link to buy it is right here.

In conclusion, here is a photograph of my cat with the book. Which you can buy. But not the cat. She's staying right here.

UPDATE: Alternatively, you could mail me and I could organise to post one out to you. Email address here. Sample poem here

No automatic alt text available.

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Challenge yourself with the rhetorical questions quiz!

1) ARE WE JUST GOING TO STAND BY AND TAKE IT?
a) Yes.
b) No.
c) Maybe.
d) All of the above.

2) Am I right or am I right?
a) You are right.
b) You might be right.
c) You could be wrong.
d) You are wrong.

3) What do we say, ladies?
a) Yes.
b) No.
c) Please do not refer to me in the plural. I am not a group.
d) I am not a lady.

4) Are we not men?
a) No.
b) This is a lady's rest room. We are not men.
c) Yes.
d) Your questions are strangely gendered and I do not agree with their terms.

5) Do they take us for fools?
a) Probably.
b) It's possible.
c) Neither sure nor unsure.
d) Yes.

6) What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?
a) 42.
b) 42.
c) That is an exceedingly complicated philosophical debate, and it is curious that you appear to have placed the three sets of 'life', 'universe', and 'everything' in the one general superset as part of the terms of your question. It poses an interesting assumption, that language is not only at the root of these physical-biological-philosophical phenomena, but that it is a particular form of language, the interrogative mood, the question, that is the basis of reality. I therefore propose to make my tentative answer to this question break down into several parts. I shall begin with asking, 'what is a question'?...
d) 42.

7) Just who do you think you are?
a) A bounder.
b) I am the Doctor.
c) Your mother. It is bedtime.
d) Eileen.

8) Would you rather have a box of chocolates, or gouge your eye out with a cold spoon?
a) Yes.
b) No.
c) I am a masochist, so yes, definitely.
d) Strongly agree.

9) Did you get out of the wrong side of bed this morning?
a) I do not own a bed.
b) Yes.
c) I am still in bed.
d) I have always been in bed. I live here.

10) How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
a) Four.
b) This much.
c) Five penn'orth.
d) Yes.

Monday, October 29, 2018

Alternative strip shows

1. To a slow tantalising melody the stripper sensuously and lingeringly puts clothes on. She teasingly pulls on a cosy jumper. Then she playfully wraps a scarf around her neck, naughty fold by naughty fold. Then she licks her lips and places a comfy little beanie on her head, the pom-pom atop jiggling with excitement.

2. The stripper begins stripping, flinging off body limbs one by one into the ever-more-excited audience. Finally all that is left is her right leg, and then - with a high kick, it arches ever so gracefully into the air, does a few pirouettes and flips, and lands in the chair next to a fat old trucker called Mac, who has long ago fainted in horror.

3. The stripper sits in a chair with her legs crossed while the entire audience strips. Then she goes to the bar and gets a beer.

4. The entire audience ingests laxatives while the stripper talks to them about feelings.

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Time and change and decay and the last chocolate in the box

Cadburys changed their chocolate Roses. Did you know that?
"They've changed chocolate Roses!" the Baron announced to me yesterday.
"What?" I cried.
"They've gotten rid of the twist wrappers!" she went on.
"What? They're great!"
"I know!"
"They're what make them fancy!"
"Yes!" declaimed the Baron, before going on. "And they've discontinued some flavours, and are introducing two new flavours: vanilla nougat, and raspberry white chocolate."
"How could they?" I shouted. By this point, we had almost declared a new Inquisition against this heresy. We were both very shocked.

As a matter of fact, that evening, we saw a box of the new Roses in the supermarket. We both wrinkled our noses: "ew!" We were so disgusted that we bought the box there and then, to examine our disgust at leisure at home.
"Oh no!" cried the Baron when we opened the box. "They've even changed the shape of this one!"
"It was a nice shape!" I cried passionately.
"It was like a little Shih Tzu!"
"It's disgraceful", I harrumphed, popping a chocolate into my mouth.
"Shocking!" muttered the Baron, popping two in hers.
"Mmmmmf ghfjhfhgjfkjfd fgggfjgj!" I said, my mouth full of the offending chocolates.
The Baron didn't say anything at this point: she was too busy swimming down a river of chocolate out our front door.

At this point, I tried the new Vanilla Nougat one. It wasn't very nice. It was covered in chocolate, which I will always have time for. But the middle was meh.

As we finished off the packet the following evening, I reflected on time and change and the decay of all good things as I munched through the second last chocolate.
"Something something something time and change and the decay of something something something" I said. "And also, munch."
"Agreed," agreed the Baron. We both felt very justified in our disgust.

I mean, it was a pleasant disgust, because it involved eating a lot of chocolate. But still. Something in the universe had changed, and not for the better.

Incidentally, if you bring a box of Roses round to our place, don't eat the two caramel ones. They are definitely the worst. Leave them to me, and I will safely dispose of them while you are out of the room.

Friday, September 14, 2018

A preposition deposition

Well wouldn't you know, I was absolutely beside myself. Which was awkward, because it was a rather cliched position to put myself in. So I decided to be inside myself instead. After being inside myself for a while it was getting rather tight and I needed fresh air, so I decided to be before myself instead. It was great! Because that meant I was getting ahead of myself, though I also had to run to keep up with myself, which put me between myself and myself and it was getting rather like I was being inside myself again. So I put myself down, which meant I sat upon myself. Just as I felt like I was getting on top of myself, who should I walk into but myself? Just standing around on a street corner, being with himself (who was me). And because I ran into myself I was all of a sudden inside myself again, and it seemed like I was back to square one! Fortunately, I caught myself in time, which experience took me right out of myself, and I was overjoyed, I was excited, let me tell you, I was absolutely beside myself!

Monday, September 10, 2018

Thoughts of a lap for hire

How come the cat never lets me sit on her lap?

How many fur balls do cats make in their life? Is it related to how many words a man must utter in his life? Or how many roads a man must walk down?

Where is a cats lap anyway?

How to attract a cat: sit still and look like a lap. Make pleasant, lap-shaped sounds.

Wear a coat that is the opposite colour to the cat's fur. A black cat won't sit on a black coat. What's the point? Nobody will notice the fur.

If it is a spotty cat, best to wear a spotty coat, so all the different fur colours will have a chance to shine.

Laps are very mysterious, when you think about it. They disappear when you stand up, and nobody knows where they go. And cats sit in them, not on them (by contrast, a cat can't sit in your leg, or in your chest, or in your face): can you think of any other body part quite like this?

Own two shoes: one for your left foot, one for your right foot, and one for the cat to drop the mouse into. Okay, that's three shoes. Own three shoes.

The past is like cat biscuits: dry and reliable. The future is the wet food: tempting, delicious, and a little bit moist. And sometimes, it squeaks.

Cat talk is very economical, consisting of just one four-letter word. Who needs grammar when you've got meow?

Cats: bathe themselves in their own spit.
Chooks: have dust baths.
Humans: just bathe in water. Seems quite tame in comparison.

Wednesday, September 05, 2018

The cars that ate Epping

One morning, and I don't know when, the good citizens of Epping, Victoria, woke up with some confusion to find their quiet country town had been turned into a carpark.

That's not even a story. That actually happened. The Baron and I just went for a walk in this erstwhile country town and saw it for ourselves. It was a surprise: there's been a ridiculous amount of development in Epping, recently - fences going up, big machines tossing and turning earth over, this being paved and that being nailed and these guys in fluoro worksuits moving around looking very important and very pleased with themselves for being important. And tonight we looked with some surprise at the net result of all this activity: a few sullen big name shops, and a huge carpark, from one end of the suburb to the other. Here and there a paddock rudely remained, fenced off, looking as outlandish as a Martian landscape in amongst all the concrete and neatly painted carparking spaces.

What with all this development, I'm still not sure what all the people are going to come to Epping for. One 7/11 is much like another (and Epping has two of those), and one Aldi is much like another (and Epping has two of those, too), and one Dan Murphys is much like the other (and Epping now has two of those as well). And who the hell would want to visit those places anyway? But it's an absolutely fantastic place to park your car while you are not visiting these places. Couldn't be better.

Monday, August 27, 2018

The Quark

Or: why you should never get grammatical, scientific, or any type of advice from Tim whatsoever. 

Quark is quark is quark. Quark is just a type of German/European cheese, but you make all new quark out of old quark, adding some old quark to milk, so the new quark becomes part of the original quark, the ur-quark, the proto-quark, the primordial-quark, too. All quark is the one quark, and one quark is all quark. Quark is like the blob of the food world. Perhaps eventually all things will be quark, and we will all be happy in this clabbery, curdly, blibbery, blobbery, gestalt-quark-oneness.

So: the gender of quark, auf Deutsch, is 'der', Maskulin, because quark is a type of cheese and all cheese is masculine also. And 'Quark' doesn't really have a plural form, either - or, you can talk about it as if it's a plural ('die Quark', the plural definite article 'die' indicating it is plural), but there is no internal vowel mutation, no suffixed '-s' or '-en' to say the word is a plural, because quark is quark is quark, because all quark is one quark. Imagine saying to someone 'can I have muesli with two yoghurts'; it sounds faintly ridiculous, not because yoghurt is faintly ridiculous (though it is) but because all yoghurt comes from the one yoghurt, you make new yoghurt by just using old yoghurt. No 'two yoghurts', you just say 'can I have some yoghurt please' or 'can I have more yoghurt please'. Quark is yoghurt is quark is yoghurt is quark.

But also, quarks are quarks are quarks. The subatomic particle, confusingly also called 'Quark' auf Deutsch, gets the article neuter - 'das Quark', if you please, so if you meet one in the street, you know how to address it. It was called thus by subatomic scientists, who, needing a handy-dandy name for this entirely theoretical infinitesimal unit, took it from James Joyce, exclaiming in Finnegan's Wake "Three quarks for Muster Mark!", who I like to think was deliberately pluralising a German word that could not be pluralised. So, 'der Quark', not 'die Quarks', but 'das Quark', and 'die Quarks'. Got it? Good, I haven't either. And, for all we know, quarks, down at the hocus-pocus-mystical-heuristical-mumbo-jumbo level, might be exactly like cheese quark, anyway - little flying pieces of space-time yoghurt could form the basis of all matter. (Or not.)

The point of this article is, there is no point. Language likes fucking with us, and writers and scientists do their best to help it along. Bastards, the lot of them.

Saturday, August 18, 2018

Fee fi fo femme!

New literary variations on the femme fatale (who, as everyone knows, lures unsuspecting men to their doom using her fatal femme wiles):

Em fatale: a mark of punctuation that lures unsuspecting men and women to their doom.

Phlegm fatale: a vomit that is so dense and chunky that it contains a black hole within it that draws men and women to their inevitable doom.

Ahem fatale: a verbal stumble during a talk that causes the talker to completely lose their place.

Femme unfatale: a temptress who lures unsuspecting men to their doom completely of their own free will, and then once they have met their doom, offers them a nice cup of tea.

Monday, July 30, 2018

Whee! Look at me! I'm an intellectual!

When you're an intellectual, your job is to think thoughts, and occasionally you think a thought that is so thinky that it goes thunk. Ben Eltham had one of those recently, check it out:

Image may contain: 1 person, text

"Do white people have a positive or negative impact on Australia?" What does it even mean? It's like a game of verbal Tetris, slotting in all these random ideas together and finding they accidentally fit! Whee, look at me! I'm an intellectual!

"Do white people have a positive or negative impact on Australia?" I've never heard a more daft question in my life! How about these for some survey questions?

Are vegetables the superior form of potatoes? Y/N?

Whee!

Does white have a positive or negative impact on the colour spectrum? Y/N?

This is fun!

Are squares better than rectangles? Y/N? 

Look mum! I made a thought! No hands!

Do minus signs have a positive or negative impact on Australia? Y/N?  

As they say, "answers, please, on the back of a card".

Still, things could have been worse for Eltham. This could have been what happened.
Email: timhtrain - at - yahoo.com.au

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