Like Lord of the Rings, only with a better plot

Presenting - Life among the Ents, a groundbreaking five hour documentary set amongst a family of these mysterious tree creatures wot you first read about in Tolkien. Using innovative and subtle immersive documentary techniques, our crew capture the lifes and loves of the Ents in a way never before possible.

In the first hour, we introduce ourselves to some typical Ents.

In the second hour, the emotional drama attains an intense climax as several leaves fall to the ground.

In the third hour, there is an unexpected revelation. We're not telling you what it is, but let's just say it's almost as exciting as that time you watched the grass grow.

In the fourth hour, the excitement reaches a fever pitch, but we also learn more about the food and drink of this ancient people. Hope you like looking at mud!

You won't believe what happens in the fifth and final hour. Okay, maybe you will but.... um.... why are you still watching the film anyway?

My entry in the sadly confusing and somewhat disappointing Sunday sermon category

My entry in the sadly confusing and somewhat disappointing Sunday sermon category: 

...there was in those times a man travelling through Samaria to get to some area. We do not know which area this was, but we know he was in Samaria, which was some area he needed to go through while he was travelling from some area to some area. And while he was travelling through the same area (Samaria), he met there another man.
"Art thou from Samaria", the traveller asked the man, "or art thou roaming?"
"I am Roman," replied the man, "That is, some area away from Samaria".
"Thou art roaming away from Samaria?" said the first. "Wouldst thou join me?"
"I would stay in Samaria for a night," replied the second.
"Yea, verily," cried the first, "We will leave this same area, Samaria, and at night we shall come upon some area that is not Samaria: for I, too, am roaming."
"But I am Roman", protested the second, "And I would stay in Samaria, for I have business here".
"But why woulst thou stay if thou art roaming? And how couldst thou stay in some area if thou hadst business here? What strange business could it be?"
"Why, a very good business," said the Roman. "I sell fork handles...."

HERE ENDETH THE LESSON

Presenting a pointless political post by a persnickety prick

It's voting time almost in two days except for those who have already postal voted, and I'm happy to say that though the major parties have plenty of policies that are only superficially appealing to serious voters,  they have plenty of policies that are seriously appealing to superficial voters. Of which I am one. So, in that spirit of judging a book by its cover, let's hie to their websites now and award them points on a series of completely pointless points that we can point to.

First up, the Liberals: their polices include - um - well - um actually, they have

OUR PLAN

and what a planny plan it is, by which we will planfully plan our way back to freedom! And I could actually go on to look at the plan in some detail, but remember, we're looking to see policies that are seriously appealing to superficial voters, and I wouldn't want to take this too seriously. So I won't.

Next up, Labor. What sort of policies do they have?

POSITIVE POLICIES


Hooray! That's even more seriously appealing  in a superficial way than the Liberal Plan! Well, that was Shorten sweet.

And what about the Greens? Let's apply an equally fact-free analysis to their website. Do they have a plan? A policy? Well no, as it turns out: they have

OUR VISION

WHOA that's way better than Positive Policies and I don't even know what it means! And anyway, too much alliteration is bad for the environment. And now we have reached the end (or perhaps the superfices) of my superficial post.

Pom

Now pay attention class, I'm only going to say this once.

Pom - an English person.
Pompom - a fluffy ball.
Pomnipotence - infinite power possessed by an English person.
Pompomnipotence - infinite power gained through the wielding of pompoms.
Pompompomnipotence - infinite power gained through the wielding of English pompoms.
Pompompompomtiddlypompomnipotence - singing a meaningless ditty while gaining infinite power through the wielding of English pompoms.

That's all for today, class.

For your homework, I invite you all to submit a picture of a Pompominatrix. Thank you for your time.

Incredibly original poem about brewing

There was a young brewer from Ryde

Who ate some green barley and died

The barley fermented

Inside the lamented

And made Acetaldehyde.

Typo which I didn't actually type and I'm sorry I'll promise to do worse next time

Earpugs.

A tale of modern romance

Strephon & Phyllis: a tale of modern romance 

Strephon flicked through his phone to the live-dating app

As he scrolled through the names and the nonsense and pap. 

He swore he'd find one for a funky night out 

(Though fat chicks and those over 30 were right out). 

Through selfies and poutings and duck face he scrolled - 

Too chubby - too skinny - too squinty - too old - 

He would Try Hard and Die Hard, (an iPhone Bruce Willis)

When just then he alit on the page of fair Phyllis. 

A radiant vision she seemed to his eyes, 

A glorious Goddess in mere mortal guise - 

Strephon knew in a flash he was on to a winner: 

Perhaps he could even invite her to dinner. 

Poor Strephon knew not of the magic of Cupid - 

How one blow with his bow could send normal men stupid. 

For Strephon, of course, the case was quite dire - 

His head was awhirl and his heart was afire... 

As Strephon held Phyllis in tremulous gaze, 

He scratched at his bum in a rapturous craze 

And thought of the ways he would Phyllis enamour: 

How could he convince this fair maid of his amour? 

Win her and bring her to the temple of Venus? 

"I know", Strephon thought. "I'll show her my penis. 

One pic of my dick which I'll slyly embiggen

So it outranks in grandeur the willy of Smiggin - 

Yes, this surely is the true way to her heart - 

An image of my most masculine part. 

A young, virile member - not a palsied old todger 

Like that that belongs to that old codger Roger. 

Yes, this is my plan and it's done in a tick - 

I'll flick some random chick a pic of my dick." 

And as for what next - Strephon was not concerned -

'Twas no matter, surely - not while his heart burned! 

And shortly, his wang was winging its way 

On wireless ether to her Message tray. 

Just what do you feel after such correspondence? 

Hopeful? Or anxious? Or full of despondence? 

Not Strephon: our hero was full of calm self-collection

After mailing his mail of his male part's .... affection. 

He was not depressed, for he knew she'd be true, 

The one in receipt of his cock billet doux. 

But Strephon could not help but shout with elation

When the phone in his pocket gave welcome vibration - 

He whips out his phone with a whimpering sigh! 

He presses the button to see her reply! 

"O Goddess!" he murmurs with votary air, 

"I see at long last you have answered my prayer!"

And he gazes in trance, with his whole body tingling 

For Phyllis has answered with a snap of a.... dingaling: 

Yes, someone's John Thomas: right there on his screen - 

A random guy's noodle: it's frankly obscene! 

And then - what the Dickens? A second dick pic - 

Strephon murmured aghast, "Gee, this chick is sick!"

As if not content with that paltry selection, 

It soon became clear Phyllis had a collection,

A torrent of sausages, hot dogs and saveloys, 

Kranskys, frankfurters, salamis and bitsofboys,

A series of revellers in full Saturnalia, 

A party of parts and of male genitalia. 

Strephon switched his phone off - but that wasn't enough - 

For he saw in his minds eye those groins in the buff, 

A priapic cavalcade, pixelised, gleaming, 

They marched through his mind in the midst of his dreaming - 

The todger of Roger in front of the rest: 

Now Strephon is moody and sad and depressed, 

And questions and worries his nervous mind cumber - 

Like "Shit that weird Phyllis chick's now got my number!" 

And worse yet - poor Strephon can't shake the suspicion

His photographed phallus has been made an addition 

To Phyllis's library of penile pics - 

MORAL: don't flick some random chick a pic of your dick.

Poem based on several recent stories.

Fig 1: In which fair Phyllis contemplates what to do with the latest addition to her gallery. 

Cleaning is something which I do not like very much

Cleaning is something which I do not like very much, and therefore spend a lot of time avoiding doing. This has the effect of making the house dirtier, which I do not like, because it reminds me of cleaning, which I do not like, and reminds me of the fact that I will have to do some cleaning sometime, which I like even less. Eventually - by some bizarre slip of fate - I find myself actually cleaning, which, taken with thinking about cleaning and avoiding cleaning - is, of all those things, the thing that I like least of all and reminds me all over again why I have spent all this time in the comparatively pleasant activity of avoiding cleaning.

I found myself in this situation the other day; I don't know how I find myself in these situations, really, as I quite enjoy avoiding cleaning: it is a comparatively relaxing and stress-free activity, with the addition of a little extra mould here and there to keep the house bright and colourful. Anyway, I was in one of these situations (better known as the bathroom), and I was cleaning. The situation really was ludicrous: what place on earth does cleaning have in a bathroom? I ask you. In a last ditch attempt to avoid cleaning, I was - forgive me - grizzling in a bad tempered manner in the Baron's general direction.

"What's all this stuff doing in the bathroom?" I said. "It's ridiculous!"

"Clean it!" chirped the Baron chirpily.

I cleaned it, mostly by throwing it underneath the sink where I temporarily couldn't see it. There is a cupboard underneath the sink and as it was already crammed full of stuff, I can't rightly say that it held all the stuff that I threw into it, but I didn't mind, and neither did it.

I desultorily attempted to rub at some of the grime underneath the tap, but found to my frustration I couldn't because of all the things on the sink getting in the way of my hand while trying to rub the grime off under the tap in the process of my general effort to clean up the bathroom which I was doing because..... oh, never mind.

So naturally I went back to cleaning things off the sink. There were a lot of things on the sink, don't ask me why, it's a ridiculous question.

"There's so much soap in here!" I said. "What's soap doing in the bathroom?"

For some strange reason the Baron didn't answer this.

"This is silly! The soap's getting in the way! I'm getting rid of it!" I announced, eventually.

This was a wise decision. What place does soap have in the bathroom, really? None that I can think of, and anyway, after my decision here things went much smoother. I swooped all the cakes of soap off the bench and neatly deposited them in the garbage. Soap really is a nonsensical product at the best of times, but especially so when it is in the bathroom. Not only does it get in the way of grime, which gets in the way of the bathroom, which gets in the way of some other grime that was there before the bathroom, and which is undoubtedly much more attractive and interesting than the bathroom (though perhaps without hot and cold running water), but soap can only be used for one thing - cleaning. Even just writing about soap makes me shudder again as it raises the horrible prospect of cleaning all over again. Ugh!

So: where was I? Oh. Yes. Cleaning. In the bathroom. Having performed the irritating task for long enough (and got rid of all that unpleasant soap) I think I retired shortly after. Cleaning is, aside from anything else, a very strenuous activity. I highly recommend you don't do it.

***

It's possible the Baron later discovered the soap in the bin.

"Why is there soap in the bin?" the Baron asked.

For some strange reason, I didn't answer this.

Mindful of crap

Two words in to an article on random website Wanderlust and we're in "mindful" territory, and I'm scared. One word after that and the word is "sober", closely followed by "subculture", and I'm shedding tears of pure terror. I want to say to these kids: who hurt you? What did alcohol ever do to a harm you? Think you're ready for the whole thing? Let's give it a go -

A mindful 

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh no there's that word again

sober subculture 

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

is emerging 

takes me back to the fun old days of temperance activists. Oh. Wait. No, I meant horrifying.

indicating that we’re seeking out deeper, more meaningful connections to others.

And just like "mindful", that "meaningful" gets me again. It's the sheer unmitigated gall of the thing - thing you drunkards are having a "meaningful" time? Why don't you try something "deeper"!

The funny thing is, the more I find out about drink - and the more I drink drink - the more meaningful it is. Who is this mindful subculture anyway, to decide that it's only them who are able to make deeper, more meaningful connections? And just like the temperance activists before them they unwittingly concede to drink a power and an influence far greater than it has over anyone else. No moderate drinking for these people, nothing so pleasant as a little tipsiness,  a modest insobriety, an affable drunkenness. Nope, it's all or nothing, more meaningfulness or vomiting in the gutters.

***

I actually had a longer essay I was thinking of putting in here at this point about all the ways in which beer and wine are beautiful, but nup. However, let me finish off by quoting that notable drunkard, Christ:

31And the Lord said, Whereunto then shall I liken the men of this generation? and to what are they like? 32They are like unto children sitting in the marketplace, and calling one to another, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept. 33For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine; and ye say, He hath a devil. 34The Son of man is come eating and drinking; and ye say, Behold a gluttonous man, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners! 35But wisdom is justified of all her children.

Hang on... I don't think there's a single "mindful" in there!

Spray it, don't say it

GRAPHIC artist _____ has been charged by police after she allegedly spat on Richard Pearson, administrator of the newly formed Inner West Council, at a fractious first meeting on Tuesday night. - The Daily Telegraph

A public spit

She felt her hatred churning, roiling,
Deep within a burning, boiling,
Longed to make a final soiling
To The Oppressor's face -
From stomach, chest, and nose and lung
She dredged a booger up among
Her uvula and teeth and tongue -
A deep, dark, bitter taste -

This precious jewel of salt and spite,
Of rancour, fury, bile and blight,
With which she would her target smite -
She gave a secret smile -
And when his face hove into view,
Her lips flung forth the fatal brew,
Across the seething air it flew -
As straight as a missile,

Then broke apart, this mucal matter,
With a most unseemly splatter,
The droplets all went pitter-patter,
Emblems of her rage -
A perfect work of form and function,
Snot and spray and cough and luncheon,
A Jackson Pollock in high dudgeon -
Next day's headlines. Front page.

Feminist things

I have thought long and deeply about feminism, as you all know, and here is a list of feminist things.

The Womandelbrot set.
Womanta rays.
The Communist Womanifesto.
Womanfred, a play by Byron.
Womansplanation. It's a bit like mansplanation but a good thing.
Womanspreading.
Femme dashes.
Femminem, the rapper.
She Guevara.

Because we can never have too many television programs featuring dogs

Please tell me why we don't have this show on the television already?

DEPUTY ASSISTANT HOSPITAL INSPECTOR REX

(SCENE: An ordinary hospital. Or is it? Yes. It is. There is a SECRETARY sitting at a desk. A DOCTOR enters. )

DOCTOR: Have you filled out those forms, Secretary? 

SECRETARY: I certainly have, Doctor. For, as we all know, the most important part of modern medicine is appropriate administrative record keeping in the context of adequate departmental oversight. 

DOCTOR: And we never know when.... 

(MUSIC: "Dog takes over control!"

DEPUTY ASSISTANT HOSPITAL INSPECTOR REX jumps in through the window, shattering it, and stands there while the opening credits run).

DOCTOR:.... Deputy Assistant Hospital Inspector Rex comes WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COME IN LIKE THAT! 

SECRETARY: I didn't even know we had a window. 

DEPUTY ASSISTANT HOSPITAL INSPECTOR REX: Woof! 

SECRETARY: He's right, Doctor! There's no time for that when there's administration to be done! (Plonks several realms of paper on floor in front of Deputy Assistant blah blah etc etc). Here are the files, Deputy Assistant Hospital Inspector Rex! 

DEPUTY ASSISTANT HOSPITAL INSPECTOR REX: (Spews on the files)

DOCTOR: Why, thank you, Sir. 

***

(SCENE TWO: Same place, five hours later.)

SECRETARY: .... and so, Mr Rex, we come to the fiscal slide 13, point D, where... 

OLD LADY: Help! Help! A criminal has taken my purse, but he's terribly afraid of dogs! If you could onl.... 

DEPUTY ASSISTANT HOSPITAL INSPECTOR REX: Woof! 

DOCTOR: He's right! There's no time for that when we're examining Fiscal Slide 13 point D! 

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR MORE EXCITING ADVENTURES OF DEPUTY ASSISTANT HOSPITAL INSPECTOR REX! 

Some may be more real than others

Ideas for workshops in Kyneton. Some may be more real than others.

Spoon carving.
Cabbage massage.
Permacultural yodelling.
Dog unbending.
Egg whittling (with chainsaws).
Egg whittling (traditional, with axes).
Gum scribbling.
Getting in touch with your inner chicken.
Getting your chickens in touch with their inner egg.
Permacultural beard maintenance.
Vermicelli balancing.
Paleo cooking with oblongs.

How to run a national culture - an A to Z

Devastating day of reckoning for Australian arts as 62 organisations miss out on crucial operational funding.  

Australian artists have faced many desperate moments over the past three years, particularly in the last 12 months following the 2015/16 Federal Budget announcement last May, which revealed devastating cuts to the funds distributed by the Australia Council. However, Friday the 13th of May 2016 is now a day that will be remembered in infamy by many as one of the blackest in Australia’s artistic history. Published this morning, the Australia Council have announced the list of 128 fortunate recipients of the highly sought after four-year funding grants. However, many unsuccessful applicants, including 62 organisations previously funded by the Australia Council, are now facing uncertain futures as their operational costs are no longer underwritten.  

Limelight Magazine - Black Friday: Australia Council cuts defund dozens of arts companies

A - artists, the people who make art. They are the most important people of all. A also stands for audiences, but no-one gives a shit about them.

B - bureaucrats, who deliver money to the artists. Everyone loves bureaucrats! Until....

C - cuts to funding happen periodically, but only when evil Coalition governments are in power.

D - despair. It's natural to feel disappointed when your funding source has been cut, but artists, being more important than other people, have much more important feelings: hence, despair.

E - economy, something that doesn't exist and even if it does it's not important anyway and even if it is important it certainly doesn't justify the cuts to funding to the arts, and even if it does it's not important, because emotions.

F - fighting amongst themselves, a fun practice which artists indulge in in these economically-straightened times when they discover their artist friends have got money but they haven't.

F - forms, which artists have to fill out a lot of if they want to have a chance to get funding.

G - gloom, a side-effect of despair (see above).

H - horror, another side effect of despair (see above).

I - independent, something that all artistic organisations lay claim to. Some have been independent for several decades, although strangely independence is only ever possible by being dependent on government for money.

I - institution, icon - things which every artistic group is, especially when its funding is in danger.

J - jobs, jobs, jobs. What some artists lose in the cuts to funding.

K - knitting jumpers for lamp-posts, one of the many important works of art which has previously attracted funding.

L - latte, the traditional food stuff of the artist.

M - minorities, groups which artists often discover they are members of when they are filling out forms.

N - nation, the thing that culture does stuff to, much like a culture does stuff to milk to turn it into a delicious yoghurt, although with less curds, and with more conceptual installations and interpretative dance pieces.

O - opera, something some artists love, most artists complain about, but very few go to. It is usually unaffected by the funding cuts.

P - protests, which at some point someone will organise.

P - paradigms, things that artists shift a lot in their artistic works. No-one has seen a paradigm in the wild, so no-one is quite sure what they look like.

P - politicians, who are ultimately responsible for all the funding.

Q - questions raised, something that important art does, although presumably, it does somewhat less of it now because of the cuts to funding.

R - regions, places which artists care about a lot, although they seldom visit them unless there's funding involved.

S - schmoozing, a helpful thing to do when applying for funding, and which makes it all the more annoying when that funding gets cut.

T - taxpayers, the people who make money, only to have some of it taken off them by politicians with a variety of dubious justifications and spent on art that they don't necessarily want anyway.

U - unemployment, the unfortunate side effect of funding cuts (and of running an artistic organisation for decades without somehow preparing yourself for the day when the funding gets cut).

U - urban areas, the exciting places artists like to hang about in.

V - voluntary support of the arts, a ridiculous thing that artists rightly dismiss, because who wants to make art that people want to pay money to see?

W - whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? A cry of despair uttered by artists when they hear about funding cuts.

X - xenophobia, what artists are fighting against. They're not sure how to link it to the present politicians and the cuts to funding, but they will find a way.

Y - yartz, the - term of contempt for, or endearment with, the arts, depending on whether you are an artist or a lowly taxpayer.

Z - Zzzz, the instinctive response of many non-artists when they see these arguments.

Words that totally should be in the Scrabble dictionary but totally are not

ew - Yuck. This one's obvious.

zot - old word (apparently a Train family word) for nipping into spots in traffic.

queery - an inquiry by a queer person

hgkpfvq - no idea what it means, but that one time it would have been really useful if this was an acceptable bingo.

Font of all wisdom

The ABC is designing its very own font...

TO: All ABC staff
RE: New font. 

... To reflect the changing and diverse nature of Australia's multicultural society, there will not only be an 'Italic' option in this font, there will also be options ranging from Asiatic to Islamic.

Old hegemonic modes of class discourse are outdated, and to embody this, there will be no 'upper-case' and 'lower-case' (upper caste and lower caste, much?). It will all be lower case.

Likewise, 'bold' will no longer be required, as this strikes an unnecessarily aggressive patronymic note, but this will be replaced with a groundbreaking 'gay pride' option.

Some savings will have to be made, as the ABC font will be run on an economically-collectivist basis, and until the establishment at long-last of a worldwide communist utopia, neoliberal capitalism will create shortages. Redistribution of materials will be necessary: ellipsises can be made out of full stops gathered from previous sentences,  or, if necessary, colons which have been inverted in the technical department.

The needlessly phallic hyphen and the positively priapic exclamation mark will be replaced by more gentle yonic symbols of global motherness. Ampersands for all!

Thank you for helping us in the formation of this bold - sorry, proud - new font, and we look forward to rolling the first letters out of our workshop shortly!

Management. 

ABC staff hard at work in the font workshop.

Haikus are a gateway drug: a public service announcement

 Haikus are a gateway drug. 

"Just three lines, and you'll be fine". 

KIDS, DON'T LISTEN TO THE LIES. 

Soon you'll do them all the time. 

Next thing you know, you're doing odes - 

The heavy stuff. IT'S JUST NOT COOL. 

SAY NO TO HAIKU WHILE YOU CAN - 

And sign up for accounting school. 

Antsy disestablishmentarians

If you get a whole bunch of contrarians in a room together, what happens? Do they all argue it out to see who is the top contrarian, or do they all slyly agree with one another in a passive aggressive attempt to piss one another off? Or does something more shocking happen, and they find that, having opposed orthodox opinion for so long, they are all genuinely in agreement with one another and they never need to start arguing at all? Or - in the somewhat more likely event of them actually not finding any point of agreement at all - what happens if someone actually says "we can't agree on anything at all, can we?" Would it, like, cause the universe to explode or something, or would they all avoid catching one another's gaze and instead look down to their feet as they shuffle awkwardly about the room?

And, while you're all thinking about that, what's the collective noun for a group of contrarians anyway? A disagreement? A beg-to-differ-ance? A Wellactually?

Obsolete units of measurement

pubit - as long as a standard Imperial pubic hair.

Though of course a question remains: curly or straight?

I drink to forget, but never forget to drink

ODE TO THE FORGETFUL DRINKING OF A CUP OF COFFEE 

My morning coffee cup is 

Not yet full 

I have become so very 

Fretful 

I need to get my big warm 

Wet full 

But now I drink it in a fit 

Forgetful 

Alas! I search for it, 

Regretful. 

 Alternative title: "Don't give up your day job".

(Thanks for the inspiration Shelley!)

Lesser-known examples of onomatopaeia

 flomp - the sound of a cat taking up too much room on the bed. All night.

geklangbeplonkenbonk - the sound another German verb makes as it thuds its way through the memory part of the brain, crashes through the understanding bit, flounders about in the confusion and exasperation centres, and comes out at the other end.

snilp - the sound of another one of Tim's socks quietly disappearing in the night.

humber - the quietly disapproving noise of a pile of slowly accumulating unwashed clothes.

conblustergration - the silent, yet terrifyingly audible, sound of 1000 angry mainstream media blog commentators on an article about racism and celebrities.

Balance maintained

Living with vegetarians: the Baron bursts into the study and says, "do you want some quince bacon?'

Living with carnivores: Beatrice the cat finds a mouse, eats the bottom half, and leaves the rest twitching on the front door step.

 Life. It's all about the balance, maaaaaaaaaaan.

The queue

The queue was long, and out the door; 

Each member wished to be before 

Each other member, right behind, 

(Who were, as well, of that same mind). 

 What were the queue all queuing too? 

They queued to join another queue. 

Pointless simile of the day

As quick as a whip in a snowstorm.

The land of the rising polka dot

How great is the Japanese flag? It's a big red spot. There should be more spotty nation flags. It would make the world a more cheery place.

Earth hour poems

Brunswick party
Someone announces "It's Earth hour!"
Shit

Earth hour
We all practice being one
With darkness

Advantages/disadvantages
In the dark
No-one can see
You're a Goth

Advantages/disadvantages

We get to light candles

A small gesture to our own inherent

Pyromania

Advantages/disadvantages

The conversation

Naturally enough

Turns

Towards suicide

Advantages/disadvantages

Half the room gets to use

The torchlight function on

The iPhone 6

Confused guests pile in

To pitch black house

Earth hour.

House bachelor for the week

The Baron has gone to Sydney for a week, so I am pootling about the house indulging in that most simple of pleasures - batching. Let's survey how things have gone so far.

*For dinner tonight, for want of anything better to do, I chucked some stuff at some butter on the stovetop. Then when that was done I added cheese and pasta. Yum.

*For dinner tomorrow night I will be scrounging off friends. Double yum.

*For dinner the night after, pizza. And beer. Actually, there was beer every night - that really doesn't need to be said.

*I've been keeping the house super clean. Just two hours ago I ran a sink full of hot water and squirted some detergent into it. Then I threw all the dirty things I could find in it, including: plates, knives, forks, spoons, bowls, cups, coffee machine parts, honey straining equipment, and socks. Some day I may even take them out again.

*I just picked the espresso machine off the floor, and, noticing that it had flour on it, I dusted the flour back onto the floor. A place for everything, and for everything a place!

*There is a badger in the bathroom, which I am using to catch all the potoroos that have got into medicine drawer.

*I am lounging around on the couch in Australia flag underwear. But then, I do that all the time, anyway.

That's my entry, then

Our crush on poetry continues unabated here at Common Good Books, and to prove it the proprietor is putting his money where his mouth is. Garrison Keillor is offering five thousand dollars in prize money to the seven winners of “‘Poems of Gratitude: The Fourth Annual Common Good Books Poetry Contest.”
  Enter "Poems of Gratitude: The Fourth Annual Common Good Books Poetry Contest."

I gave my love a cold,

She gave me a bag of snot.

 Now we both say to the other

"Hey, thanks a bloody lot".

No point entering poets, I think I've already got this competition in the bag.

I'm too sexy for this poem

I'm too sexy for this poem

I take a sexy selfie for

My sexy selfie shelf ,

But that selfie doesn't match with

My inner sexy self. 

Should I take a second selfie

With more sexy sexy sex? 

Should I sex my inner self up

With more special sex effects? 

Should I make my sexy selfie

Take my sexy sexy pants off

While challenging my inner self

To a sexy sexy dance off? 

It's hard to be so sexy

It's hard to be so glam - 

Cos I'm just so super sexy

I'm more sexy than I am. 

Brewing demystified

Honest definitions of brewing terms

Yeast - weird shit.

Bacteria - more weird shit.

Wild yeast - fucking weird shit.

Starter - weird shit, fucking.

Pellicle - weird shit done by weird shit.

Krausen - Ew! Gross! Just disgusting, man!

Esters - farts done by weird shit.

Carbonation - what the weird shit shits beneath all that weird shit.

Trub - weird shit, asleep, in more weird shit shit.

Secondary Fermentation - Weird Shit 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Beer/wine/cider/mead - what's left over after the weird shit gets the shits and shits off. Yum!

She was a psychopath who liked scones

"She was a right-wing, awful woman". Sentences like this are just so strange. It's such a non-sequitur. It's a bit like saying "She was a psychopath who liked scones". Or "he was a tyrant who once patted a cat". Of course it is really trying to use "right-wing" as a near synonym for "awful" - it's repetition for rhetorical effect - but it just doesn't work. But can you imagine if people really did use insults like this in parliament? "That's so Liberal of you!" (to a member of the Liberals). "Don't be such a Green." (to one of the Greens), "When did you become so progressive?" (to a Labor member). It's kinda what they were elected to do, after all.

Du schmeckst so gut

Here, with apologies to my vast German audience, is my German verse epic in preparation for Valentine's Day entitled "Du bist mein Lieblingsessen."

Du bist mein Lieblingsessen

Du bist mein Lieblingsessen.

Meinen Obstsalat und Haferbrei

Und (doch, ich habe nicht vergessen!)

Mein Toast mit Butter und ein Ei.

Mein Frühstück, meine Hauptmahlzeit,

Meinen Kaffee, Meinen Porter,

Mein Scheschisches Himmelreich,

Und jetzt, meine Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte.

Du schmeckst so gut, mein erst, mein Wurst,

Mein Tomate rot, mein Milch und Brot,

Meinen Hunger, meinen Durst

Du bist, immer und so immer fort.

Metaphorische.

UPDATE! - It has come to my attention that I may have made even more lamentable errors in this than I thought I had originally. I will leave the poem up in its current state but it may require a lot more revision before I take it out in company again. 

Self-Valentine poem

"It can be a challenge to wake up on Valentine's Day on your own." 
This weekend two women are doing away with finding love and focusing on self-love. Valentine's Day: Life coach says do away with finding love and instead romance yourself - ABC

A self-Valentine poem

My and myself went out on a date.

He looked in my eyes and he said that "I'm great!" 

I caught at his hand and I whispered "You too!"

So right then I got married to me (as you do).

The wedding was perfect but at the reception

I caught me making love to a mirror's reflection -

We broke up that day. I was sad. He was hot.

And who am I now I'm the man that I'm not?

Thunk

If being 'grumpy' were such a bad thing, then why is the word so lovely? People who are really serious about wanting less grumpiness should try to get the word changed to some new and unlovely neologism, the examples of which occur every day in politics and the office. As it is, there is hardly anything nicer than being labelled with such a pleasant and homely word as 'grumpy'; there ought to be more of it.

Never encourage them

Positive heckling: the worst sort of heckling.

Good on you for trying!
We all have to start somewhere! (Before you have even started).
This is the best thing I've heard all second!
Don't feel bad! (Said for no reason at all).
Interesting!
Yay!
That must have been good for your self-esteem!
Don't listen to them! (No-one has said anything).
Give yourself a pat on the back!
(Breaks into applause as you reach the third line in a 30 line piece).

Encouragement is never something that should be encouraged, people.

To do list for Australia Day

To do list for Australia Day

Take the notes off your echidna

Polish up your kangaroo

Update your dingo's rego

Plug in your wombats, too. 

Put your ocker through the washer. 

Hang it on the windowsill. 

Give marsupials an extra pouch.

Give a platypus the bill. 

Wear pavlova to a party - 

Say it's just fancy dress. 

But most important, don't forget -

Repaint your OH&S.

The advantages and disadvantages of nudism

The advantages and disadvantages of nudism

1. It's nice and cool to let all weathers

Play on your nipples and your nethers.

2. It's nice and cool - until it's cold.

3. It's lots of fun for young and old.

4: But: mum won't like it if she's told.

5. It feels delightful to be free

For breakfast, dinner, lunch, and tea.

6. You could get caught in nooks and chinks

Or doors, drawers, cupboards, laundry sinks.

7. Sunshine gives you a pleasant zing.

8. But sunburn, also, is A Thing.

9. It's very economically efficient.*

10. What if, by chance, the neighbours see?

11. What if, by chance, the neighbours see?

12. It's such a very simple way

To be at one with Nature every day

13. Being nude, you cannot wear a tie.

*No rhyme: this line is self-sufficient.  

Challenge of the day

Challenge of the day: write a clean, inoffensive, family friendly limerick beginning with the following two lines:

Delvene's delightful declivities
Had some rather alarming proclivities...

From the 10 habits of highly effective Business-Bonobos...

... 11. The Business-Bonobo knows the value of money well. As soon as he or she comes into a little money, they roll all over it to ensure their pheromones are all over their savings. Also acceptable: pissing, spitting, shitting on the money. This way, potential competitors are deterred from taking a share.

12. A Business-Bonobo is never without their banana telephone. That way, they can stay in touch at all times with other Business-Bonobos. Also, they're good for snacks.

13. Work disputes are easily resolved. Sex. Also, disputes with technology. Sex. Also sexual feelings for fellow department members. Sex, obviously. Also H & S disputes. Sex. Sex. Sex....

Today, I observed a sporty girl bear an oversized test tube containing what looked like water with what appeared to be pond scum in the top of it

Today, I observed a sporty girl bear an oversized test tube containing what looked like water with what appeared to be pond scum in the top of it. She took a pointlessly big plastic straw, and proceeded to stir the appeared-to-be-pond-scum into the what-looked-like-water, and then plonked the straw right in and took a big contented slurp.

Our interest in health has given the world some very disturbing foods in the past hundred odd years, but none, I submit, quite so disturbing as a test tube full of appears-to-be-pond-scum on top of what-looks-like-water. The adage 'If it tastes good, it can't be good for you' these days seems to submit itself to some flexibility these days: 'If it tastes yuck and looks disgusting, it must be brilliant for you', perhaps. Certainly, I never thought I would see the day when people would present themselves in front of me drinking gigantic beakers full of pond scum. What happened to friendly old men drinking unknown substances out of brown paper bags, for heavens' sakes?

I blame Tony Abbott. Or Malcolm Turnbull. Or Daniel Andrews. Or whoever it is one blames for such things at the present time. Whatever. I blame them all.

Innocent interpretations of internet acronyms

MILF - Man, I Like Flamingos!

PRON - Pickles R Okay, Neville!

IWSN - Isn't Wilma So Nice?

PORN - Pickles, Or Radishes - Neat!

WTF -  Why, That's Fine!

NIFOC - Now, I'm Filigreeing Our Crochet.

TMIY - Thanks, Mate! Igloos! Yay!

WTFF - Wendy,  Those Fantastic Flowers!

My new year's resolution

To open a twitter account and make only one tweet of one character's length, consisting of an obsolete punctuation mark, and a spelling mistake.

Happy new year.

Curses! Spoiled again!

A couple of weeks ago I was having a chat with some folks around the topic of movie spoilers. One guy was saying he hated spoilers, did everything he could to avoid them; another was saying she didn't mind spoilers at all actually, no problem with them. My position was slightly different: hey, sometimes spoilers are the only good thing about a movie; I will actively go out of my way to avoid a movie and read the spoilers instead. Case in point, the upcoming Batman vs Superman movie, or even more case in point, the never-ending series of Star Wars sequels.

These films present me with a curious paradox: I see the previews, I read about everyone else's excitement, and as a result I get all excited myself and want to know how they end. But I find I have no desire, nonetheless, to see the films. That would be a waste of precious hours in my life; the carpe diem poets advise man to seize the day, to Gather ye rosebuds while ye may/ old time is still a-flying - not Go to a bloody movie theatre for two hours and sit through another tedious collection of special effects just so you know how it all ends. You don't actually have to endure your way through to the end of Star Wars episode 1-3 and Darth Vader/Anakin's hilariously anti-climactic "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" to realise that, aside from filling in a few plot details that people could probably guess anyway, the films are devoid of any artistic interest whatsoever. In fact, Star Wars Episode Whogivesa or Batman vs Superman are hardly movies at all; they are plot twists mistaking themselves for movies.

So to the plot summary on the Wikipedia page I go, then. My favourite part of the plot summary would have to be.... I'm not sure, but my least favourite part would have to be the fact that they've (oh come ON don't tell me you didn't know I was going to include some spoilers in this post) INVENTED ANOTHER BLOODY DEATH STAR FOR THE FILM, I mean it may just be a plot twist mistaking itself for a proper cinematic experience but the least it could be is a NEW damned plot twist. (It's not even original in its unoriginality; Lucas reinvented the Death Star in Return of the Jedi). The most amusing would have to be the fact that evil kid Ren/Ben whatever appears to be having ongoing chats with his dead Dark Side mentor Darth Vader. (Not sure about this last part - they keep on fidding with the Wiki plot summary).

It would be amusing to go on in this way and review the plot summaries of all the crappy films that I don't want to see but want to know the ending too, like Batman vs Superman, but its plot synopsis is still too coy because the stupid non-film hasn't come out yet. I'm guessing neither of them wins. So there goes my career as a Wikipedia plot summary reviewer, then.

Oh, by the way, SPOILERS! This blog post contains SPOILERS! Did I do that right guys?

A DISQUISITION concerning the ETIQUETTE of FARTING

We were talking of farts, Thassalius, Quintalian and I, since it was not possible to do the reverse, and anyway, it is our custom to deliberate upon important matters before puffing contentedly on our evening pipes.

"I maintain," said Quintalian, "that farting is a way of marking territory by humans, just as animals mark their territory by means of odour. Observe, for instance, the dog, thoughtfully leaving his or her essence upon a tree, so that other dogs may KNOW they hath been there. Consider, too, the ways of the bee; who, in swarming season, is guided by the scents of the scouts who have gone before her, and thereby establishes a safe new hive for her sisters and brothers. So, too, we may draw an analogy with the human animal, whereby they, in their natural environment - such as the desk at their office, for instance, or the elevator they are sharing with their boss - mark their territory, perhaps unconsciously, by releasing a smell, a natural pheromone, into the environment, that will prove attractive to their family, and repellent to their enemies."

"A judicious observation, Quintalian", said I. "It is certainly true that my own farts frequently smell pleasant, whereas those of my enemies - who are many - or those who do not know me - who are sadly more numerous still - are abhorrent to my organs of olfactory apprehension. And yet, I find that the universal social contract is to deplore the practice of flatulence, wherever it may occur. What sayest thou, Thassalius?"

"It is certainly not a practice that I find to be impolite", murmured Thassalius. "For, wherein do true manners lie? In not giving offence to our neighbour, our friend, by giving false witness unto them - or, in being generous to them in their needs, and courteous to them in their wishes. But I find the practice of farting plays no part in this; for what one man finds disturbing, the other finds no trouble with; and what is of so little consequence can give no real offence. 'Tis but a bubble, Sir!"

"It would indeed prove to be a fit subject for an ESSAY, PAPER, or DISQUISITION, Thassalius," I said.

"Perhaps we may look forward to it further in your own productions, Palpatius", put in Quintalian. "I, for one, find it easier to avoid giving even the appearance of offence to my fellow humans; I wait until I am out of their company before letting NATURE take the air."

(It struck me hereabouts, of course, that whereas humans may make a great show of taking offence, other animals, more sensitive to the aromas around them, may already be well aware of the digestive productions of HOMO SAPIENS. Would not, say, bees regard the gaseous emissions of humans in a benevolent light, as one of the many fragrances of NATURE, just as humans regarded their own hive smell as an example of the universal goodness? If I had had more time to frame these thoughts into words I may well have said them to Quintalian, but here Thassalius came in with another striking thought.)

"Indeed," cried Thassalius, "I frequently regard the farts of others as a compliment. For what more simple way could there be to make expression of your comradely trust and the familial bond than to give way to an expression of wind in the company of others?"

"How true!" I enthused. "Thassalius, thou hast made a great discovery! And, paradoxically, does not one find even amongst the most frivolous of companions - school boys and the like - a desire to bond through their mutual flatulence, even by producing the odour that will be the most repugnant of sensation to one another? But who knows where this laudable desire for mutual betterment may lead them? Through their dedication to finding the most potent herbs, the most odiferous saps, the most productive of the plants and beans, that they may not - unbidden - make a Great Scientific Discovery?"

This being said, the three of us, done with our deliberating and asseverating and cogitating, drew out our pipes as one, and let the clouds wreathe up around us and ascend into the heavens above.

HERE ENDETH THE DISQUISITION

Christmas doggerel #2

I am a sexy Santa in my sexy Santa suit

I looked me in the mirror and I thought I looked quite cute

I hop into your stockings girls every year or so

Some like it when I do that but some say I'm just a 

HO HO HO! 

Christmas doggerel

Doggerel. An ancient verse form. It's just like a villanelle. Written by a dog.

Dear Santa Claus

My Christmas wish

Is nothing more

Than an old dead fish. 

The Twelve Days of why do we even call it Christmas Christ was just a myth and he wasn't even born then and anyway it's actually a pagan festival but it's all about consumption and greed and white colonialism in the context of late capitalism really please pass the pudding

Time for a Christmas sing along, kids! You know the tune! It's that old favourite

The Twelve Days of why do we even call it Christmas Christ was just a myth and he wasn't even born then and anyway it's actually a pagan festival but it's all about consumption and greed and white colonialism in the context of late capitalism really please pass the pudding


On the first day of why do we even call it Christmas Christ was just a myth and he wasn't even born then and anyway it's actually a pagan festival but it's all about consumption and greed and white colonialism in the context of late capitalism really please pass the pudding 
My true love sent to me 
A greeting card.

On the second day... 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the third day... 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the fourth day... 
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the fifth day... 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the sixth day... 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the seventh day... 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the eighth day... 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

On the ninth day... 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity 
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


On the tenth day... 
A ten day holiday in France 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


On the eleventh day... 
A 11.30 in the morning sleep in 
A ten day holiday in France 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.


On the twelfth day... 
Twelve people who you love and adore and only want the best for and who really make you laugh at a glorious Christmas lunch 
A 11.30 in the morning sleep in 
A ten day holiday in France 
Nine delightful chocolate fudges 
Eight lovely colours on that gift shirt your mother gave to you 
Seven wonderful craft beers at the Christmas party with friends 
Six relaxing days on the beach 
Five gorgeous renaissance portrayals of the Nativity
Four long lost family members 
Three feelings of warmth and tenderness with work friends 
A pair of socks 
And a greeting card.

NASA launches first Creme Caramel into space after holding a dinner party and accidentally stuffing up the dessert course

NASA has launched the first creme caramel into space after holding a dinner party and accidentally stuffing up the dessert course.

"The initial stages were promising," said NASA spokesman John Spokesman, "But then it stuffed up in the oven when water bubbled into the pot, ruining the custard mixture. But the launch itself went really, really well, and our dinner party guests made a makeshift dessert on the spot by toasting marshmallows in the blast of the rockets".

The creme caramel, currently rocketing past the moon, carries with it a capsule with messages for any potential alien species it may encounter, such as "never make this bloody thing!" and "It's not worth the bother!"

Ewsome.

I didn't make it to the Dan today (insert suitably melancholy emoticon here) but I did just perform this impromptu poem:

Now I have to do my business in my business-doing place.
Now I am doing my business. This is my business-doing face*.
Now I have taken my business out of the business case.
Now I have done my business in the business-doing place.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Or should that be Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww?

*What's the emoticon for that, do you reckon? 

May your day be nourished and fructified by the presence of this ASCII sperm made out of commas

It has come to my attention that a search of the internet for an ASCII sperm image made out of commas will be unsuccessful. This is my attempt to rectify this gap in our cultural capital.

Behold : the ASCII comma sperm.

In the beginning was the code

Are selfies really real?

Who's the I behind the Pod?

What's the G in OMG?

Is it Gosh or is it God?

Do we float in cyberspace,

Random bits and bytes and blogs,

Are we acronyms and coding

Amidst pics of cats and dogs?

As we peer into your Facebook,

What's the status to your Status?

Has it gone the way of MySpace?

Do you know but won't update us?

In the far far distant future,

Our accounts long since deleted,

Will someone leave a comment?

Will we be (perhaps) retweeted?

We are pixels built on pixels,

But still I hear the call

To find that perfect YouTube

That will explain it all.

On this day in history....

This day, 30 November 2015, marks the 100th anniversary of the official passing of the Women's Mansplaination Act in Australian Parliament. This important bill gave women everywhere the right to listen to men giving fulsome explanations of things they already knew. Isn't history great?

Rumours that Malcolm Turnbull is actually drinking cocktails of artistic tears out of a golden diamond-encrusted beaker have been unsubstantiated

WTFF News - Australian Government announces the creation of a new fund of artistic tears
The Australian Government has announced the creation of a new fund of artists' tears, in an attempt to boost their support amongst the artistic community

"The National Endowment of Artistic Grief, or NEAG, will revitalise the artistic community, providing them with plentiful supply of delicious grief, torment, agony, and pain for the years ahead", said Mr Turnbull in a statement yesterday, adding that "this precious chalice of depression, desolation and despair showed that the Coalition government was the true friend of artists in Australia."

However, Bill Shorten hit back this morning, claiming that "this fresh supply of artistic tears is taking away from the pre-existing Australian Foundation of Artistic Sadness, and proves that once again the conservatives are ripping off valuable artists." He added: "If elected, a Labor Government will ensure all Artistic Tear stocks are returned to AFAS, along with the addition of fresh grants of sadness for our long-suffering artists."

The statements by Turnbull and Shorten were met with dismay by the artistic community, with artistic leaders sobbing plentifully when asked for responses to the new National Endowment of Artistic Grief policy.

"It's not enough!" claimed one artist.
"It's just too much!" claimed another.
A third artist asked for handkerchiefs.
A fourth artist said: "These are not true Australian tears. I have it on good authority that these tears were made in European sweatshops by underpaid artists. Why aren't we paying Australian artists to cry on our behalf?" before bursting into presumably demonstrative tears.

Rumours that Malcolm Turnbull is actually drinking cocktails of artistic tears out of a golden diamond-encrusted beaker have been unsubstantiated at time of going to press.

However, when contacted by the media, he did make slobbering sounds while licking his lips.