Apropos of nothing
Over the last year or so we’ve been dealing with elections at this end of the planet. First there was the Australian General Election (Whoo boy what a mess that was, eh?) Isn’t our language silly? I heard one of the Aussie commentators saying they had a hung parliament. For a brief moment I thought the Ockers might have woken up and done away with the useless bastards and then I realized that would be a hanged parliament. Then the awful horror began to dawn upon me. I mean I knew there were a lot of pricks in there. But it’s really come to something when the Aussies begin electing (I hope I said that correctly) their pollies based on the size of their donger. Scarier still, what does that say about Julia Gillard? I can just see her showing off after her win. “Hoo get a load of this Tony, or should I say Tiny?” That woman makes Helen Clark look like femininity personified. Scary!
And what about local body elections? What body would you vote for eh? I’d definitely go for one with more muscle definition than I have now, but other than that, I don’t think I’d change a thing, cos why mess with perfection, I reckon.
Any way all this fuss about elections means the usual tacky opportunists are out and about trying to cash in on the whole scene. First of all somebody came up with a board game called snakes and leaders but it didn’t catch on because nobody could tell the difference between the two and in any case it didn’t matter which one you got onto, you still ended up at the bottom of the board.
And speaking of election games; Hone Harawira (or is that John Hatfield?) was trying to get the younger voters on side before the last General Election, so he developed a game of his own. Being him, of course it is typically racist in nature. It’s called pin the tail on the Honky. And speaking of Hone, don’t you think he’s a showy sort of git? He’s a bit like Prince I reckon – the bullshit artist formerly known as Hatfield!
Of course we’ve got the Olympics this year. Frankly I am over them. One gigantic bore for me, and, I suspect for many others, too. Which is why I reckon this new sport they are thinking of introducing could be a winner; it’s called synchronised yawning. It’s a participation sport for all the people at home to do while watching the more boring sports like synchronised swimming and dressage, but I can imagine it could catch on with many more sports too. Come to think of it, we could make it into a ‘reality’ TV show – it couldn’t be any worse than any of the ones they have now.
Isn’t that reality TV a crock? I can’t think of anything less real, apart from Donald Trump’s hair, Justin Bieber’s talent or Gerry Brownlee’s concern for the environment and now I come to think of it, the first of those has already featured in a ‘reality show’.
You know I watched a couple of those programmes to start with because I hadn’t read the TV Guide properly – I thought it was realty television and I was looking for a suitable investment at the time – but none of those houses were much good anyway – they all had tenants – but who’d want a bunch of whining show-offs like that for tenants or for that matter a TV crew tramping through the place every week?
And while we’re talking about TV, what do you think of that new gay talent quest on Maori TV? It’s called Homo Te Pakipaki.
But the standard of TV is so bad these days – the ads are often more entertaining than the so-called programmes. I have to own up to watching television ads a little too closely at times. It’s probably an unnamed syndrome of some sort.
Have you seen those ones about people with sensitive teeth? I really don’t get this. Are these teeth you can’t speak badly of or they‘ll start crying?
Then there’s that one where they ask you Ever wondered what makes Catholics tick? Well frankly no, not particularly and if I ever had I think I would have just put it down to those Irish genes.
And sometimes don’t you just feel the ad agency really didn’t think through the implications of the message they are delivering? For example I can now confidently tell you that Unichem is the place to go if you are a sick wooden puppet and you need a SmartStrand carpet if you are planning on keeping a black rhino in your living room. Both marginally interesting facts, but did I really need to know them?
Then there’s that really weird one with that pig of a woman who scoffs her cereal without chewing it. You know the one she pops a spoonful of cereal in her gob which appears to cause it to fly open again and she belts out the most insincere and corny Oh yeah I think I’ve ever heard. But oddly, when she opens her trap to do this there is absolutely no trace of the shovel full of cereal she just stuffed in. It has completely vanished and all this, despite the fact the camera never left her face between cramming it in and letting out the yelp. No wonder she’s a bit on the chubby side if she swallows her tucker whole like a bloody Labrador. My advice to her would be to chew every mouthful carefully and I’m sure the kilos would just melt away for her in no time.
But I shouldn’t say that – she might have a glandular condition – yeah right. But no, seriously you just don’t know sometimes because appearances can be deceiving. You probably wouldn’t think it to look at me, but I’ve actually got brain damage. Yeah, but it’s okay, you don’t have to feel sorry for me or anything; the doctor says it’s what they call temporary brain damage - as soon as I stop behaving like a dick it will clear up.
I also found that Student Job Search ad pretty telling, too. Looking for someone to fill that position? Contact Student Job Search – it’s a no brainer. Judging from most of the spotty Herberts I see hanging around Universities these days, I’d be inclined to respond, Yeah, just like the dimwit you sent me last time.
But some of the funniest TV ads lately have been that series made for the state of South Australia. Whew! And what a state those adverts are! Talk about damning to hell with faint praise.... “I quite like their food” Wow! I am licking my lips with barely suppressed gourmet enthusiasm already! And then there’s an old geezer who says “I didn’t regret it at all” Well cobber you were going on holiday not to bloody jail – the last thing I would expect to feel after having been on holiday is regret, apart from the fact that the holiday is over and I have to go back to work, of course.
And speaking of work - I used to work on a small newspaper in a small town. The locals used to call it the two minute silence, cos that’s how long it took to read it. Of course if they hadn’t been such slow readers it would have only taken 2 seconds.
But Working on that paper had its challenges. For one thing we had to order our pencils several months in advance - to coincide with when the stage coach visited.
Then of course there was the constant clank of the telegraph machine. But don’t get the idea it wasn’t a modern set-up. We even had sub editors to ensure every possible typo and grammatical error made it into the paper. But I shouldn't speak ill of the brain-dead.
I travel around the countryside a fair bit and on my travels I see some strange things. For example I was in Te Awamutu not long ago and I came across the strangest sign. It said Look for cars. I can only assume they have a pretty quiet time in Te Awamutu. Most places say look for our historic monument or look for our magnificent gardens. But not Te Awamutu; after the Finn brothers left town they couldn’t think of any other tourist attractions. Of course I might have got it all wrong. It might just be the Bermuda Triangle of the South Pacific and they might simply be enlisting the help of passersby to find their lost motors.
I came across a restaurant in Hawera with a disturbing notice that said Children served only if accompanied by their parents. What? You mean I can’t just have them with chips?
Unfortunately as we get older bits of our bodies start to fail or fall off and one of the first of these to deteriorate seems to be eyesight. Maybe they were right about it causing blindness, but what 12-year-old boy is going to listen to that when his hormones are about to explode, eh? Anyway it may come as a surprise to you but I am actually not all that young anymore and so I had to go for an eye exam the other day. I bloody failed it. I guess I should have done more revision.
I think it’s time we had some new Christmas Carols. The old ones are getting pretty old and it’s time to have some carols that better reflect how we view Christmas in the 21st Century. I’ve already thought of a few that wouldn’t need too much alteration from the existing ones.
You could have Hank The Feral Mongrel Sings which would be about one of those uninvited drunks that crash your office Christmas party and hogs the karaoke all night. Or there could be Away In A Manager about the kind of stuff that goes on AFTER the office party has finished.
Then you could have We Three Pillocks Of Orient Are about the innocent overseas students that are lying passed out on the floor of the Polytech after trying to fit in and party Kiwi style with their new buddies.
Oh and speaking of Asian students; How does an Asian’s doorbell sound? Ching chong, ching chong
On a more serious note, I hear some insurance companies offering broad cover I want to know if this is so you can cover the girlfriend.
I had one of those market research companies ring me the other day, but it wasn’t a good time
(I had some pencils to sharpen) and the bloke, said that’s okay, if now is not suitable I could ring you at your convenience. I said not bloody likely some things are private mate and that’s the only place in the house I can get any peace.
Oh, just changing the subject for a moment; did you hear there’s a new terrorist threat? Apparently this bloke wants to wipe out all the little old ladies on the planet. His name is Assam bin Larder. He’s the tea-bag bomber.
I opened this piece wondering out loud, as I do, about what a weird language we have and I have a few more examples of how confusing it must be for those who have to learn English.
For example: Why isn’t the opposite of dishevelled hevelled? And why is the opposite of appoint not disappoint? Come to think of it, how do we manage to replenish something without first plenishing it?
Oh, before I go, what do you call someone who prepares animal food? A fauna caterer.