Lines written on MCing the Dan O'Connell open mic for the first time

Lines written on MCing the Dan O'Connell open mic for the first time

I've been practising...
my awkward pauses
Sudden segues in the conversation,
Non sequiturs at random clauses,
My pointless stories full of too much information....
I've been practising....
My mumbling and bumbling
And grumbling and fumbling
With the microphone and stumbling
And flailing back up to the stage....
I've been practising...
Longwinded boring anecdotes
That ramble on and on and on andonandonandonandon and send you round the  BEND
And stealing jokes from other folks
And then forgetting how they end...
I've been practising...
Forgetting things.... forgetting lots...
It's Whatsisname! You, with the face!
It's Thingummy and Whosiwhats!
It's Whatsthetime at Wheresthisplace?
I've been practising...
At finding ever less exciting ways
At losing everyone's attention
At causing eyes to overglaze
By starting sentences and then for no good reason trailing off before oh well you know what was I saying again...
I've been practising...
And I'm getting better!

How to lose things in reverse

Some things were meant to pair off together. Bread and butter. Knifes and forks. Pies and sauce. Tea cups and saucers. This is one category; another category is things that actually are pairs. Socks, arms, legs, hands, feet, eyes, nostrils, dual carriageways on roads, bicycles, and Twix chocolate bars, for instance.

Sometimes it is possible to lose one of a pair of things, thus making the whole lose its function: I'm thinking especially about socks, obviously, but (conceivably), the same could happen with some of the other items so-named: arms and legs (alarming), dual carriageways (how on earth....), wheels on bikes (any monocycle riders around?), and half of a Twix chocolate bar (though I'm happy to report this should never lessen the functionality of the remainder, unless Mars have a very strange manufacturing method).

I mention all this now because my friend EB, of Facebook-land, appears to have had a very strange turn of events. I quote:

Mystery: I now have three pieces of a single pair of socks. (???) 

There is visual evidence. A - pair(?) (what would you even call them now?) - of three identical-looking socks. As I noted at the time, EB appears to have gained a curious power: now, instead of losing one of a pair of socks (a trouble I am all too familiar with), she appears to have lost them - in reverse, gaining a pointless third sock. (Or is it pointless? Just how many legs....)

This is a valuable skill, and ought to be learnt by the rest of us. If I could only lose a couple of my best socks in reverse, I'd quickly gain a pair of three, four, five, six, seven socks. I'm tempted to go off and practice now, but then, I've been practicing losing socks all my life and up to the moment I haven't had much success at losing them in reverse.

But just imagine if you applied this skill of losing in reverse to other pairs. Arms and legs (I could do with three arms), dual carriageways (on roads what direction would they be driving on the third carriageway?), bicycles (thereby upgrading them to - ehrm - tricycles....) and Twix chocolate bars (thereby gaining three bits of chocolate for the price of two - sweet!) And, come to think of it, the town of Wagga Wagga could be upgraded to Wagga Wagga Wagga at no extra cost.

And - what's more - could this skill of losing in reverse also be applied to things that are just paired off, rather than just pairs? If I was drinking tea with a tea cup and saucer, and lost the saucers, could I get two saucers back? Or would I have to lose both the tea cup and saucer before getting both back, redoubled? Would it even be possible to lose things deliberately anyway, or is it rather like learning to fly in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (the secret is throwing yourself at the ground and missing). How exactly does this losing things in reverse work?

I think I'm off to practice now....

A miracle of nature

There they were again today. I hadn't seen them for several months, but all of a sudden, a flock of them appeared right in front of my eyes.

.

Panettones. These shy, elusive creatures can be quite hard to spot, even for the most experienced student of nature. Their life cycle is quite simple: they appear on the shelf in the store around Christmas, Tim buys them, and they are eaten. In the cooler months of the year, they become afraid that Tim will not eat them, and they tend to hide in dark, difficult to find places. But the poor, timid creatures needn't be afraid. I am always willing to eat them, not being particularly fussy about eating them in season. Which I am just doing now.

And so, the glorious cycle of nature continues on, in all its grandeur and mystery.

If you see any panettones in the wild, feel free to buy them and forward on to me for eating, too, to assist them in their life cycle. Thanks in advance, nature lovers!

Bob

IT'S BOB THE SNAIL, EVERYONE!

Bob the snail! 
Bob the snail! 
He's so slimy and wet! 

Sheep are people too!

Racial connotations over black sheep prompts changes to Baa Baa Black Sheep at Victorian kinders 
BAA, Baa, Black Sheep has been put out to pasture at some Victorian kindergartens because of concern over the racial connotations of “black”. 

Staff at childcare centres in the south-eastern suburbs told the Herald Sun the lyric was being changed to reflect a multicultural community. 

Herald Sun

Considering it's in the Herald Sun, this story is probably crap. But I'd like to say, hooray, anyway! It's about time that dubious song was thrown out or updated to fully reflect the modern, progressive, right-on mindset. I hereby offer three possible revisions of Baa Baa Black Sheep....
 
1. 
Baa, baa, worker sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, fellow comrade! Three bags full!
None for the master, none for the dame,
All for the Bureau chief who lives down the lane!

2.
Baa, baa, Green sheep! Have you any wool?
Organic and sustainable? Fair trade? Cool!
One for the master, one for the dame,
One thousand dollars for the lot? Oh. That's a shame.

3.
Baa, baa, rainbow sheep! Have you any wool?
None at this moment, sorry, we're all off to the Mardi Gras.

A proposal to end all proposals

Breaking up is always hard to do. But to all those considering separating, parting ways, divorcing, or otherwise splitting up with their partner, I have come up with a simple and elegant proposal to make the whole process much more efficient and pleasurable for all concerned: combine it with a well-known advertising slogan for a popular food product. Allow me to demonstrate:

"Darling. I know we haven't been getting on well for sometime now, and the arguments just seem to be getting worse. Frankly, I don't think we can reconcile our differences anymore. I think you agree with me on that, at least. That's why... I think we should.... have a break! HAVE A KIT-KAT!" 

You should really try it, next time you break up. Not that I'm recommending you do.

An Aussie poem

A poem which no-one outside Australia will understand, and the same goes for everyone in Australia too - only less.

An Aussie poem
or
I Tim, therefore I Tam

There's a coolabah at Mooloolaba
With a bogan at the base
And he's sucking on a billabong
With a big grin on his face;
He's weighed how much koalas bear
And knows a cockatoo,
There's an Aussie flag round his tuckerbag,
And his kangaroo's called Blue. 

But the Vegemite or might not
And Collingwood - but won't. 
And the Draught Beer's now all Craft Beer
And your didgeridoo don't. 

At back o' Bourke the Men at Work
Gather with the Drover's Wife
Then fo shizzel with Cold Chisel
Sing of the bugger's life.
And the emu and the Bob Hawke
Form a chorus far away
On lagerphone and telephone
With a Toorali Oorali Ay.

But Paul has ceased from Keating
With Howard's Ruddy end
And my Kit-Kat's lost its kitten
Round the riverbend. 

At Minyip stands a bunyip
And he bids the town goodbye
As he rows down old Les Murray
With a sad and knowing sigh
'til Patterson with his Banjo
Bids him stop and rest at night
For a slice of Magic Pudding
At the Great Australian Bite.

Time like a sausage rolls on
And Cloncurry's going cold
I once was so Vic Bitter,
But now I'm XXXX Gold. 

UPDATE! - The Baron has been trying to persuade me that Kit-Kats are not Australian. What rubbish! They're as Australian as Prime Minister Roosevelt Menzies-Churchill the Second, who invented Tasmania using nothing more than vulcanised rubber!

AND ANOTHER THING - For your edification, there is an alternative version of the second chorus:

But Paul has ceased from Keating
With Howard's Ruddy bum;
For it's hard to have a Gaytime
And tell it to your mum. 

Now aren't you glad I didn't tell you that?

This is the day that was: a dramatic re-enactment

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HUNGRY
BAKLAVA BAKLAVA BAKLAVA
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The Day of the Triffids Hops

Hops are an alarmingly triffid-like plant at the best of times. In John Wyndham's famous novel, Day of the Triffids, the mobile plants are able to uproot themselves and roam the world at will, stinging humans into submission. Hops haven't quite got to that stage yet, but what with their arrow-like buds, their ability to wave around in the air during the day, and their rapid rate of growth - you can virtually see them growing; they gain several centimetres every day in their season - you can tell they could teach the triffids a thing or two.

Ours are currently going like the clappers up the fenced-off bit of garden in front of the beehive. Four weeks ago there was just one or two little nips poking out of the ground. A few days after that, there were six or seven nips poking through the ground. A few days more, and they were waving around in the air, looking for a fence to climb up. Within a week, the longest hop-bine had found the fence, and days after that the other tendrils were grasping at any old piece of fence or netting they could find, too. They grew and grew, going up several finger lengths every day, and creepily twining here and there, almost making you feel like they were turning their heads to watch you as you went around the garden. Three days ago, there was a lull in their activity; perhaps they were deciding what they should do next. Two days ago, they had started developing a system of representative government. Yesterday, they were agitating outside the back door for greater rights for non-animal inhabitants of the household. Today, the situation has become tense and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to prevent them going to war.

So it's been exciting watching them develop in the back garden, all right. I wonder, though, if I'll be able to use some of their cones in my brews this year? We'll see, I guess.

An open and open case

Open-plan living. I hadn't known such a thing actually existed, but since I just read about it in this respectable news source, I am led to the unfortunate conclusion that it does.

It sounds awful - simply on the principle that any phrase beginning with the word 'open' is usually a coy euphemism for a dreadful reality. 'Open-plan office': a place where, in an attempt to maximise workplace productivity, everyone is spying on everyone else all the time and no work actually does get done. 'Open-minded people': people who are alert to any and every possibility except the most obvious and correct ones. 'Open relationships': exercises in lies, deceits, and selfishness. 'Open marriages': formalised exercises in the same. 'Open window' - oh yeah. That one's not actually a euphemism, but what the hell? It's cold outside!

As G K Chesterton once said, "Something something something something something open your mind to something something something something close it upon something something something." WORDS TO LIVE BY.

This post is now closed!

EBOLA!

DON'T PANIC EVERYONE!

It's just an e-bowler hat. Sorry about the little misspelling in the title.