LESBO VAMPIRE KILLERS HOT VIDEO ACTION!!

Dear Rupert,

I have taken the trubble to revise the layme hedline to this story as u can see from the above up there (up above).

I don’t feel your currant hedline riters and sub-editers are doing ur orgnisation the justise such a fine pubication deserves.

Give us a job, ya scraggy old cunt.

Yours Sincerely,
Ross Sharp

VIRTUAL PANADOL FRIDAY

From Dikipedia …

"The only thing Sarah Palin seems to enjoy more than having children is giving those children ridiculous names and inadequate sex education …

… On August 29, 2008, Republican presidential candidate Senator John McCain performed perhaps the greatest political mindfuck in American history by announcing that he had chosen Sarah Palin as his running mate. Palin celebrated by ovulating."

Now ... WATCH ME SEGUE! ...

From ovulating to the chilly twilight of barren, menopausal misery, Filmthreat have compiled their Frigid 50 for 2008, “The 50 Coldest People in Hollywood” … Curiously, neither Tom Cruise or Lindsay Lohan make the cut, which must surely mean their careers are no longer just cold, they’ve decomposed altogether and have now become one with the ether …

Coming in at No. 13 this year is …

“Scarlett Johansson - Funny how quickly that Next Big Thing title slips away, isn’t it? Not to worry, Woody Allen never tires of his young ingénues. Just ask Mia Farrow.”

Awww, poor Scarlett.

I must confess I’ve never really paid much attention to Ms. Johansson’s acting abilities. Although I do seem to recall her arse featured quite prominently in the opening credits of some movie a while back … What was that called? “Virgin Suicides”? … Whatever …



Yeah, that one. Meh.

I think it would be quite a good idea if all movies in future opened with a close-up of Scarlett Johansson’s arse. Might be just the ticket to give a much-needed lift to all these dark and depressing “small” films that blight the cinematic landscape so, with their vanishing-point narratives of doom and wretched angst, stuffed with spotty teenagers or those horridly inconvenient wobbly folk with their unsightly disabilities; fat slapper mums in fluffless fluffy slippers with upper arms that look like punched pudding dough and drugged-out deadbeat dads forever hauling slabs of XXXX from the ute to the dunny fridge who like to piss on the family dog at night for giggles.

It’s just what movies need these days, I reckon. More arse.

Yet topping (so to speak) the Frigid 50 list at No.1 is “our” Heath Ledger, the man whose face I’d like to put on a t-shirt accompanied by the slogan “Best Sleeping Pills Ever” …

“Develop the posthumous ability to go back in time and read some pharmacology textbooks that might’ve clued you in to the fact that mixing OxyContin, hydrocodone, Valium, temazepam, Xanax and doxylamine wasn’t a wise move. Hell, go ahead and lend them to River Phoenix while you’re at it.”

Run, River, run!!

And with that, a smoother segue into song you will never find. On this blog, at least …



From 1995, Suddenly Tammy “River Run”

"PSST!! THE PRESIDENT HAS GENITAL WARTS ... PASS IT ON"

Where's the love?

PENNE?

It's life Jim, but not as we know it ...

A MAN caught by police with his penis in a pasta sauce jar was still pleasuring himself while resisting arrest, a court has been told.

Police thought he might have a weapon because they saw him doing something with his hands in his lap, the Herald said.

Instead, they found him partially clothed with his genitals in a jar, a police statement said.

Jar jar bonking.



From 1979, Amii Stewart “Knock On Wood”

THIS YOGHURT KILLS BABIES

I wrote this a while back (October 2007) on a blog that no longer exists (an early effort), however, in light of poor old Andrew’s mournful whining today about poor old Kevin Andrews, an apparently “cautious and deep[ly] Christian” fellow and an “honest man”, I thought it an apt and dandy time for a recycle …

Oh, those were the days, my friends, those were the days …

We thought they'd never end.

THIS YOGHURT KILLS BABIES (REDUX)

On the ABC television program "Insiders" of August 5, 2007, host Barrie Cassidy interviewed Kevin Andrews, the current Federal Minister for Immigration about his decision to deport Dr Mohamed Haneef on the basis of allegations that Haneef had been mucking it up and hooning about with some of those despicable terrorists we're forever being 'lerted and 'larmed about. Of course, most of these allegations have now been widely discredited and dismissed, and the good Minister Andrews in his desperately clumsy attempts to convince us all that his accusations were justified continues to reveal himself to be a man whose grey matter appears to comprise little else than a few dusty tumbleweeds and a blowfly.

And, aside from those pesky Indian doctors, Andrews ain’t too keen on foreign black folks either.

However, at the tail end of the interview, Cassidy began to ask Andrews about another matter entirely ...

Broadcast: 05/08/2007

BARRIE CASSIDY: I also read this morning that you are an adviser and an honorary patron to the radical - as it's described in the newspaper - radical pro-life group Life Decisions International. Is that true?

KEVIN ANDREWS: Look, I've been a patron, the Americans used the word "honorary adviser" because in America a patron is someone who pays money. I've been a patron of a pro-life organisation for about 10 years.

BARRIE CASSIDY: This group advocates economic boycotts against companies producing contraceptive pills. Is that something that you support?

KEVIN ANDREWS: Can I say, I'm a patron. I'm not involved and have never been involved in the day-to-day operation of the organisation. I'm, you know, patron of a variety of organisations.

BARRIE CASSIDY: But as a patron you lend your support to that organisation?

KEVIN ANDREWS: That's right.

BARRIE CASSIDY: And you wouldn't put your name to it unless you supported their tactics, and their tactics are to support an economic boycott against companies like GlaxoSmithKline, for example.

KEVIN ANDREWS: It's a free world, Barrie. People can advocate what they like. But as far as I'm aware, there's nothing illegal involved. As I said...

BARRIE CASSIDY: Nothing illegal about an economic boycott but it's something that you clearly support otherwise you wouldn't put your name to it.

KEVIN ANDREWS: Look, the bottom line is that this is an organisation which is pro-life. Everybody knows I'm pro-life. I'm patron of an organisation that's pro-life.

BARRIE CASSIDY: And pro-economic boycotts.

KEVIN ANDREWS: Well, as to the way in which they advocate a pro-life outcome, that's fine.

BARRIE CASSIDY: I'm just curious, one thing - what have they got against Walt Disney? Why are they demanding a boycott against Walt Disney?

KEVIN ANDREWS: (laughs) As I said, I'm not involved in their day-to-day operations. I'm a patron of it. I'm not running away from that. It's been on my declaration of interests forever and a day or ever since I've been a patron of it. That's that.

BARRIE CASSIDY: Thanks for your time this morning.

KEVIN ANDREWS: My pleasure.

Walt Disney aside, that Lion King of theirs having been long revealed to be queerer than a carpentry joint tacked together by someone with St.Vitus' dance, Life Decisions International also appear to be dead-set opposed to that infamous "culture of death" concept known as carpet on floors, listing among their "boycott targets", the companies Carpet One, Flooring America, Flooring Canada, and Flooring One.

Now, I know nothing of carpets, plush rugs never before having struck me as particularly sinister, but, perhaps summat's afoot aboot that lump of piles on my floor which has yet to shew it's evil intentions.

But why on earth would the poor old Coach Dairy Goat Farm of Pine Farms, New York be in their sights?

What have they got against a decent lump of curd?

NOT "THE ENGLISH PATIENT"

I’m wandering back to work from the CBD and I pass a door leading upstairs to a bar of some sort. On the wall next to the otherwise unadorned entrance is a small poster advertising what is no doubt the chief attraction of this most salubrious establishment of malty excellence …

“Beer & Breasts Fridays”

Now, despite an oft-indulged penchant for the occasional cheap jug, I passed this unique enticement by (it is only Tuesday, after all), however, in that one brief moment did I come to realise that Brisbane, my adopted home these last 3 years, can now lay claim to be the one true spiritual home of worldly sophisticates everywhere …

And somewhat in that same veiny cup …

This movie looks bloody awful.



From 2008, "Bitch Slap", trailer, directed by Rick Jacobson

...

I must see it.

...

And this just looks plain silly ...



From 2008, "Machine Girl" trailer, directed by Noboru Iguchi

I! WANT! A! TICKET! NOW!

VIRTUAL PANADOL FRIDAY

Talk about a filthy frame of mind …

I’m holding the elevator door open for a couple of guys who are only a few steps away. Polite thing to do, I reckon. They get to the elevator and stand outside the door, peering in, as if in awe that it is open. So I say …

“Either get in or feel free to loiter, but I’m going and I’m going now”.

So in they get. In a somewhat sheepish fashion, shall we say.

Yes, I know.

And while I’m at it, if this thing actually happened (which I very much doubt), it’s just a damn shame they didn’t pull the trigger and blow his ugly fucking face off. Wearing a hairstyle like that in public should be a criminal offence punishable by death anyway. What a silly little cockhead.

Anyhow, this clip is from an age when women with “attitude” (Hello Granma Madge, Pink, et al) didn’t have to throw themselves about in front of a camera like so many Z-grade porn-zombies in order to get a little attention …

Yummy.



From 1987, Siouxsie & The Banshees “The Passenger”

DEAD MEN'S FORESKINS

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

TIMBER FALLS

Two new "horror" films (straight to DVD) currently available for rental ... give "Insanitarium" the flick (it has a performance from Peter Stormare that's hammier than a smallgoods smokehouse) and head straight for "Timber Falls" ...

An effective, efficient little chiller, "Timber Falls" takes a swag of what, by now, are well-trod "horror" cliches (a young couple; the woods; cabin; nut-sack crackers) and manages to put a fresh spin on them by virtue of (1) a coherent script (2) believable motivations for the actions of the characters, and (3) excellent performances, most notably from Beth Broderick as Ida and the always superb Nick Searcy as Clyde.

Set in the United States yet filmed in Romania, the film is nothing profound or ground-breaking by any means (it did remind me, thematically at least, of Jack Ketchum's short novel* "Right To Life"), but there are far worse ways to spend a lazy weekend afternoon with a few beers and a bag of chips, believe me.

And, thankfully, it eschews supernatural mumbo-jumbo (wanna know how to deal with pesky spirits? ... Get out of the house and run the fuck away) and the tiresome, mindless excesses of the slasher/torture-porn genre** so popular these days with those spotty little tools who, until they can get around to dipping their denuded wicks into an actual woman, seem to enjoy watching women get killed as a way of getting themselves all gooey in their sagging arse-crack pants.

"Giglio doesn’t quite seem able to decide what his tone is, incongruously mixing goofy redneck humor with harrowing scenes of intense pain, but horror fans should dig it nonetheless — I did. Not recommended for the devoutly religious, moralistic scolds or anyone with a sensitive stomach." Luke Y. Thompson - L.A. Weekly

*I will not call it a "novella". I loathe that word.

**There are nasty bits, but the "Saw" and "Hostel" franchises, it ain't.

WONDERS NEVER CEASE

Andrew Bolt reckons Obama weren't raised black, he were raised right, er, white.

One of Andy's simpering simians (Paul of Hervey Bay- Wed 12 Nov 08 (02:16pm) reckons ...

"Andrew, it is a fact that Obama has Black skin. When people meet him on the street they assume he is a black man."

Fancy that ...

ANAPHYLAXIS ALERT!

CAUTION: MAY CONTAIN TRACES OF NUTS.

$!!!!##@!~!!! ...

So I wander up to the local Blockbuster on the weekend ... they've changed their system for television series rental. Instead of one disc at a time (3 or 4 episodes), you can now rent an ENTIRE SEASON for six and a half bucks a week.

WOO-HOO!

Having heard good things about it, but having not bothered when it was on free-to-air television earlier last year or whenever, because, when it comes to free-to-air television these days to do so is a waste of time, I rent season one of the “re-imagined” "Battlestar Galactica" ...

Season one, disc one, episode one ... it begins ...

"Previously on Battlestar Galactica ..."

Previously?

PREVIOUSLY?!

WHADDYA FUCKING MEAN, PREVIOUSLY?! THERE IS NO PREVIOUSLY!!!!

SEASON ONE, DISC ONE, EPISODE ONE!!

ONE!! ONE!! ONE!!!!!!!!!! O-N-E!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you mean you DIDN'T put the pilot episode on?

....

You miserable, tightarse, filthy little fuckers.

I hope you all die of cancer.

FELIXUNGERALIA

Welcome to the anal-retentive capitol of the world. Mixing up the best of a spotless Singapore street with a delightfully German sense of humour, may we now present to you the funnest place you’ll ever visit …

SYDNEY!!

A place whose leaders may well be utterly incapable of running a health system, a public transport system, an education system or pretty much anything else that may actually matter to you, but hey, godammit, they have ways of keepin’ ya tidy!

... Police officers have been encouraged to issue fines of up to $400 for washing car windscreens at intersections or putting up posters on power poles ...

... NSW Police Commissioner Andrew Scipione, who is championing the initiative, said it is not a revenue raising exercise, instead insisting it is what the community wants to feel safe ...

... Mr Scipione said he ranked this with other "quality of life issues" such as noise, car hoons and alcohol-related crime. People being approached in their cars at intersections or walking through streets "just covered" in posters may feel like they are in a dangerous situation, he said. So the crackdown is about "making people feel like they are being looked after"...

1. I've never felt threatened by a poster. I've never walked past a poster and had it whisper at me, "Gotta fag? Spare change? Wanna buy some hash?" Even when the poster has been half-unstuck from it's place of stuckness, it's never thrust a copy of the Watchtower at me or tried to talk me into taking a personality test. It's a poster.

2. And I've never felt in a dangerous situation because I may have been walking through a street "covered" in posters, especially if the posters are advertising, for example, Richard E. Grant in "My Fair Lady", or Andre Rieu or "Happy Feet". They’re posters, for Christ’s sake, not suicide bombers.

3. "Making people feel like they are being looked after" means giving them the impression that something is being done for the greater good when, in fact, nothing is being done at all. This is the New South Wales state government’s main stock-in-trade now, and has been for the better part of a decade. Hell, before I moved up to Brisbane, we used to laugh at Queenslanders, but now Queenslanders are laughing at Sydneysiders. All the time. Even the Queenslanders who’ve spent the last 200 years marrying their first cousins and giving birth to kiddies who’d make Leatherface look like George Clooney are pissing themselves. These days, tell someone interstate that you’re from Sydney, they’ll just put an arm around your shoulder and say, “You poor bugger … can I buy you a beer?”

4. Scipione's an insufferable cockhead. But then, we already knew that.

There's been mention of this on radio as well over the last few days, and most people don’t seem to be the least bit bothered by posters advertising bands, shows and exhibitions or cool and groovy "happenings" where the young folk go to take drugs and get themselves knocked up and give birth to disabled quadruplets nine months later and wind up on welfare while dad grows one of those stringy little black beards that looks like a leper’s pubic hair and he’s got that sunken chest thing happening (all the better for tossing a salad if you run out of Tupperware bowls!) and it’s tattooed all over with the names of his kiddies, who are all dead now anyway cause mum and pop locked them in a cupboard for 6 months and went on a Tim Tam and Kettle Chip bender. Is that the problem, Scip?

Although, there are a few who say such posters are “visual pollution” …

But so is Bert Newton’s shiny new face and hairplugs and those bloody things are all over the place; on the sides of buses and in newspapers and magazines and television advertisements which pop up when you least expect it and send you tootling up the hall in horror to shit out your stomach lining (fifth time since you got home, you’ve lost a kilo and half in two ad breaks and your arse feels like it’s been scraped up and down a gravel driveway).

Visual pollution?

There's Meriton apartment blocks.

And teenagers with zits.

There’s fat people with backsides the size of battered Volkswagens and faces like dropped bread'n'butter puddings, teeth the colour and shape of cloves, and fatrolls that could tyre a Mack truck and cushion it up the Andes with nary a rattle. They’re pretty unpleasant to look at.

There's Belinda Neal and John Della-Bosca, and Piers Akerman. There’s Michael Costa, and Joe Tripodi and Eddie Obeid and Milton Orkopoulos. Horrible, horrible, ugly people. Millions of them.

Hell, look, life is full of really fucking ugly people and they’re all around us. Every time you go outside and up the street for a walk or turn on a television or look at a newspaper, there they are.

Horribly ugly ugly people being horribly ugly all the horribly ugly time.

Even people who, in olden times, weren’t renowned for their horrible ugliness, have gone horribly ugly now, having spent the last several years sticking pins in various parts of their noggins out of some deranged desire to look like a land-dwelling puffer fish.

The only way to reduce visual pollution in our cities and towns is not to ban the glueing of posters to power poles, but to kill all the horribly ugly people at the moment of conception. It would be the most effective way of reducing the number of media magnates, mining magnates, stockbrokers, bankers, music industry lawyers, real estate agents, and has-been actors and actresses, not to mention putting a stop to any of them breeding a posse of horribly ugly offspring, who nearly always wind up being uglier than a ten-gallon-hat full of cane toad colons anyway.

Scrape 'em, bag 'em, flush 'em.

Birds gotta fly, fish gotta eat.

Andrew Scipione’s idea of visual pollution. A “street poster” from 1995. I have one of these in my possession, purchased in Perth from the venue and signed by Lydia Lunch and Rowland S. Howard. Visual pollution, my arse.

HOW I FEEL ABOUT I.T. CONSULTANTS PT.3

No further explanation required.

VIRTUAL ECSTACY FRIDAY

I'm currently feeling way too good about things to blog anything even remotely coherent ...



From 1968, The Staple Singers, “Reach Out, Touch A Hand”

AH, CRAP …

Oops.

…

…

Monday, October 10th, 2008 will be the first day.

Sheesh.

This ain't gonna be pretty.

ASPLODING PUDDLES OF HAPPY!!!!!

CONGRATULATIONS, MR. PRESIDENT-ELECT!

ASK A STUPID QUESTION …

In response to Peter Beinart’s column in the Sydney Morning Herald this morning, I couldn’t resist …

Dear Editor,

"Why has America turned on Sarah Palin?", asks Peter Beinart (5/11/08). It's simple, Peter. Having handed the administration of their country to an idiot for the last 8 years, they're probably well in the mood for putting someone with a brain in charge for a change.

THE MINDLESS MENACE OF VIOLENCE

Take 6 minutes from your life and listen to this …



From April 5 1968, Robert F. Kennedy, Cleveland, Ohio

I PROMISE ...

If Barack Obama is elected President of the United States on Wednesday 5th October, 2008 (Australia time), I promise that, after 30 years, I will give up smoking.

Seriously.

EYES ON THE PRIZE

From 2007, Mavis Staples “Eyes On The Prize”