Saturday, June 21, 2003

Buggered if I know why there has been a downturn in tourists visiting Australia.

UPDATES: These stories are the most recent from our network. Saturday June 21 2003

Convicted criminal shot dead

19:40 (AEST) ONE of two men gunned down in broad daylight outside a western Melbourne hotel today was reportedly the notorious underworld figure Jason Moran.

Six men bashed in hotel carpark
19:33 (AEST) A 21-YEAR-OLD man was in a critical condition today after being bashed with a wooden stake in a southern Adelaide hotel carpark last night.

One dead after three-car crash
19:10 (AEST) ONE person was dead and another was trapped in a car after an accident in Sydney's south this afternoon.

Backpacker tortured for 16 hours
18:20 (AEST) A BACKPACKER was bound and tortured for about 16 hours at a warehouse in Brisbane, police said today.

Train collides with car
17:30 (AEST) A TRAIN collided with a car in northern Adelaide shortly before 5.30pm (AEST) today.

One dead as a car, 3 bikes collide
16:50 (AEST) ONE motorcyclist is dead and two are injured after a car accident on the NSW mid-north coast this afternoon.

Man dies in car accident
15:59 (AEST) A 51-YEAR-OLD man from Gawler died and his eight-year-old passenger was injured in a car accident near McLaren Vale, south of Adelaide today.

Female cop impersonator charged
15:30 (AEST) A 39-YEAR-OLD woman was charged today with impersonating a police officer to rob a man in Sydney's west last month.

Bushfires destroy 250 homes
14:50 (AEST) FIREFIGHTERS moved through the charred, smoky streets of a mountaintop resort to protect what was left of a community decimated by a raging bushfire that reduced 250 homes to smoking rubble.

Prince William gets the key to the door

Britain's Prince William has celebrated his 21st birthday today with a pledge to follow in the footsteps (tyre tracks would be the Deputy Editor's preference) of his famously caring (Indeed what's the point of the caring without the fame ... no point in it at all if no one sees the glossy 8 X 10s of your compassion.) mother Princess Diana and a filial defence of his father Prince Charles.

The second-in-line to the throne said he had been deeply influenced by visits to hostels for the homeless with Diana before her death in a 1997 Paris car crash.

"I learned a lot from it, more so now than I did at the time. It's made me aware," he said in a rare interview with Britain's Press Association.
(William was mortified, as was his late mother, to learn that these people not only didn't have their own palaces, but didn't have two servants to rub together.)

The prince, whom many Britons hope will fill the royal glamour gap left by Diana, was fiercely loyal about his father.

"He does so many amazing things. I only wish people would see that more because he's had a very hard time and yet he's stuck it out and he's still very positive," William said.

The interview did not make clear what criticisms William was specifically referring to.
(Possibly, amongst MANY others, the fact that he's completely irrelevant twat. Even his own mother knows that: "Just like his friggin' father, thick as a friggin' brick, mad as a barrel full of corgis. He's not getting anywhere near my sceptre and orbs while I'm alive and kicking. You thought my dear old mum lived for a long time?! You' aint seen nuthin' yet my dear little objects subjects!")

William has been on a carefully-choreographed program of events this week around his birthday designed to ease him into the inevitable limelight.

Footage released by the royal household showed him fooling around with his brother, Harry, before playing a polo game.

The images underlined both William's easy, informal manner* and the aristocratic lifestyle he enthusiastically leads.

The motorbike-riding "pin-up prince", as some media have dubbed him, is to hold an "Out of Africa" fancy dress party at his grandmother's Windsor Castle, outside London today.

"I thought it would be quite fun to see the family out of black tie," he said.

"My grandmother [Queen Elizabeth] may be slightly apprehensive as to what she's going to wear ... but I'm sure she'll look very amazing in whatever she chooses."

Embarrassed by *a "road rage" episode this week, in which he left a 76-year-old earl fuming in a cloud of dust, William revealed in his interview - conducted before the incident - how he is content with his second-hand car.

However, he added: "I imagine my father would go absolutely bananas if he saw me driving, blaring music out of the windows."
(Charles was seen in animated conversation with a number of bananas soon after hearing of the incident. They suggested that William should be given a stern talking to by the pineapples.)

With attention on William for his birthday equalling that of his birth and when he memorably trudged disconsolately to his mother's funeral, even bookmakers were getting in on the act.

A flurry of bets were being taken on when he would be king, get married - or even make a record with rocker Ozzie Osbourne.

Where's the chunder bucket? Where's Robespierre when you need him?
On a lighter note, An hour or so ago at the back of one of locals I frequent ...

"Two people have been shot dead in the Melbourne suburb of Essendon.

An eyewitness says two people wearing balaclavas approached a vehicle in the car park of the Cross Keys Hotel in Pascoe Vale Road at North Essendon.

They opened fire on the vehicle, killing the two occupants instantly.

A massive manhunt is underway in the Essendon area.

Police are searching for the offenders who were seen running across a football oval.

Police believe the two men are still armed.

A police helicopter is scouring the area - an Auskick football clinic was underway at an oval near the shooting."

Word at the local greengrocers' is that one *victim* was Jason Moran. ("He's a fucking lulu....if you smash five pool cues and an iron bar over someone's're a fucking lulu". Jason Moran on Alphonse Gangitano and the famous 1995 'Sports Bar Incident' in which the pair were involved.)

Shall be back up to the baker's for confirmation soon as I've unpacked the fruit and veg. Stuff the major media outlets. As it has ever been, the local village pump is always hours ahead of them.

UPDATE: Back from the baker's. Amazing turn of events ... "Mother Teresa is helping police with their inquiries".

Friday, June 20, 2003

'Cos Uncle Brian's off bein' old an' sick somewhere an' doin' the things what old and sick people do I've finally got an opportunity to 'ave my say for once. That's the trouble with you old farts what are readin' this! Y' don't want t' listen to us youth! Y' just think we're all mindless airheads an' all we ever talk about is boys and makeup and drinkin' and violence! Well, y' wrong you ignorant old bastards. We've got a lot t' say and if you'd only shut the fuck up you neo-fascists you'd learn what it was, wouldn't y? You're always lecturin' us an' talkin' at us an' never listenin'. That's 'cos you're thick and senile an' stink o' piss! We aren't all stupid, y' know? Some of us 'ave our own political opinions as well! An' they're more informed than yours! But y' never listen you old cunts! Y' just keep blamin' us for all the vandalism an' the broken cider bottles down the tram shelter and all the noise and 'ooliganism! Well shut the fuck up complainin' y' ignorant an' listen up for once! You ignorant tossers!
Right...well...that's what I wanted t' say! So now y' know! An' if y' don't like it y' can get fucked before I get me mate, Shaz, t' put a brick through your neo-fascist window!

Thursday, June 19, 2003

Fury erupted throughout the church today as a gay Anglican Bishop was given the go ahead to openly countersink turds. "This just isn't on," commented several archbishops whilst being administered to by their favourite choirboys. "It goes against everything the Bible teaches." The bishop in question, however, disagreed. "I disagree," he said. (Told you so!) "I'm simply turning the other cheek."

Other news and some actress out of Holby City has kicked the bucket after falling out of a tall building. Don't know her name. Don't care either 'cos I've never watched the programme...but I can't help thinking there's some horrible irony in there somewhere.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Deputy Editor notes the completed work. And damn it, everyone to whom I show it is mightily impressed. (Not worksafe. Well, when I show it at work everyone else downs tools for the rest of the day ... and it had the Pope in a right tizz.)

You're queuing in the rain at eleven-thirty at night to buy a book that, at best, is bit of shallow frippery, convinced that if you don't then the fifteen hundred that went missing from a warehouse somewhere will mean that you'll never manage to buy one at all.
Not that it matters because, under normal circumstances, you'd never have bought one in the first place.
But's Harry Potter. It's encouraging the kids to read if nothing else.
But that's the problem...they're not reading anything else. Just Harry Potter! It's enough to put them off reading decent stuff for life. It's just a brand name they have to have like Addidas or Coke.
So there you are, wet and miserable and bored hoping to get hold of a copy of a bland, meaningless children's book before some fat council estater gets her hands on it...and suddenly you realise...there's nothing you can do about it. You're being manipulated. You're being abused. You're mind is not your own. You never did this over Peter Pan or Dr Dolittle. You are just another statistic of media control convinced that you'll be missing out if you don't stand in the rain at such an ungodly hour.
And all because Professor Dumbledorf dies in the book.
Yeah...that's's Dumbledorf who kicks the bucket! So now you know. So buy something worthwhile instead
Go home and open your mind to the possibilities of not being controlled by peer group pressure.
Anyhow...whilst I'm here, I thought I'd post a photograph of the hospital where I had my gallbladder out and where, for the umpteenth time, I happened to be the other night. Seeing as I've so far spent about two thirds of my life over the last three years in and out of the bloody place I've come to regard it as my second home and even asked my brother to take this photograph with his new digital camera.

Unfortunately he didn't manage to capture the peacocks wandering free range all over the place. (No...I'm not kidding...they chase the squirrels and dance in the fountain! I believe the surgeon throws them scraps out of the back door.) So now you know where your National Insurance contributions are going and why the NHS is up shit creek.'s cheaper than a weekend in Brighton and the drugs that they dose you with, free of charge, are of a considerably better quality.

Deputy Vice Assistant Editor's note:

"they're not reading anything else"
Not exactly. For example, the children read here something different.

Wednesday, June 18, 2003

It's LETTERS TO THE EDITOR time...letters what I've bin openin' without permission for the last week 'cos Our Brian's not bin feelin' 'imself ('scuse my Innuedoe). An' what a load of old crap 'ee gets an' all. Complaints from the catalogue 'cos 'ee 'asn't ordered nowt! Coded instructions from that left wing paramilitary organsiation what 'ee belongs to. It's all crap ('scuse my Muldavian). 'Ee did 'owever receive this, what I thought I ought t' post 'ere seein' as it looked more important than 'is other rubbish.


Sorry about my lack of appearance in both e-mail and on the blog. I was involved in a car accident at the beginning of the month and the fact I have in that time been hospitalised, sued, rehospitalised and also done one of my A-Levels has meant I sort of didn't have any time for blogging. However, I send this correspondence so you can let the lads and lasses know I'm not *quite* dead and that whoever it was that sent the letter bomb didn't have enough postage and that it went back to the sender.

Any'ow the letter drivels on a bit about 'ow the usual payments for nondisclosure of military secrets are 'idden under the third sink along in Brighton Avenue public bogs. And there's a cartoon included with the letter about some soldiers 'avin' lewd thoughts (god rest Our 'Enry's napsack) an' it's considerably better than anythin' that Our Brian 'as ever drawn I can tell y'. And then the 'ole thing is signed by Peter Cooper.
So there you 'ave it an' now y' know. The only other letters Our Brian's 'ad delivered this week are subscription renewels to Sheep Shaggers monthly an' a large turd ('scuse my Convict) in a brown paper bag from somebody calling 'imself Sedgwick. Our Brian, 'owever, 'as asked me to convey 'is best wishes and 'Get Well Soon' messages to Mr Cooper an' 'opes that as soon as 'ee's out o' the 'ospital (or the canteen as they call it in the military) 'ee'll be back where 'ee belongs on this board. I'm an 'undred and seventy-sixty y' know, an' I shouldn't be 'avin' t' do all this wi' my bunions!

Copyright P. Cooper 2003

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Unfortunately I'm stoned out of my head on anti-inflamatories, but I still have to earn a living.

The latest Rant of the Week summer wear Skunk Magazine T-Shirt.
Caption reads: "I've read Skunk Magazine...which means that now I'm grown up enough to fuck!"
Go on...impress your neighbours with this cheerful piece of clothing. Just click on the image of the T-shirt above to find out more, or to buy something from the Scrag Ends/Rant of the Week/Skunk/Hughes Industries shop.

The Vice-deputy Editor's Apology

Sorry, I'm perfectly healthy. Apart from this little nausea caused some bawling in this barrack. The former leader of our hut entered in the army chaplain's minutes that nightly somebody sticks something in his ass. Of course, the present leader has protested with highly raised hands, but I think, this play was not by hands.

It seems to me that Hungary has well and truly joined the Free West. Corruption, lack of civil rights, poverty, misery and 'freedom of speech in the full knowledge that nobody's going to listen'. Welcome home, Joe. I'll put the kettle on.

Deputy Editor's Apology

It must be catching. I have been poorly for the past week. Clinically dead (for purposes of the claim on my Life Insurance) for at least 3 days. My normal state is such that no one noticed. The assembled mourners were 2 verses into "The 23rd Psalm" before I appraised them of their Mark Twain like error. (Negotiations continue with the caterers for a refund on monies paid for the prawns and Fosters supplied at the premature wake.)

I believe I am about to relapse. This relapse will have been brought about in no small measure by my foolishly watching our nightly current affairs programme. In the past months we have had 2 British politicians appear on the "7:30 Report" First was a Mr. Mandelson. A first class oily piece of work that one. Then tonight we were privy to the slimy unsustainable justifications inner most thoughts of one Mr. Hoon on WMDs.

What is it with these Pommy Labour pollies? Why aren't they kept locked up in the cellar? Is it just because they are appearing on colonial television that they feel they have to be unrelentingly supercilious?


Editor's testiclemony: "I personally blame those two bastards, along with the sight of Prescott's triple chin, for making me so sick today."

Monday, June 16, 2003

Editor's Apology

Haven't posted for a couple of days. This week seems to be a never ending round of g.p.s, doctors, surgeons, clinics and hospitals. The usual run of the mill stuff that constitutes my excuse for a life. More to come yet! (Don't ask me why these things all happen at once...but unfortunately they do.) So, I'll probably be missing for a few more days yet.
In the meantime I shall leave you in the more than capable hands/paws of Deputy Editor Sedgwick and the vice-deputy editor Petrenyi who, I've no doubt, will keep you entertained with tales of derring do and political insight. I'm off to hit the bottle in order to face tomorrow's enslaught of check-ups and anti-inflamatories. Back as soon as is inhumanly possible.

So... here is the missing link:

"We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.
Have you any dirty washing, mother dear?
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line
'cause the washing day is here."


"Whether the weather may be wet or fine
We'll just rub along without a care.
We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line
If the Siegfried Line's still there."

G.I. Joe has his own special way of getting the Iraqis on side.