ungyun

If you think it's disgusting when you accidentally swallow a fly, you should stop and think about how that fly must feel, especially if you haven't brushed your teeth or just eaten a kebab with garlic sauce and onion.

i miss her already

A eugoogoly to Bridget Parker

It's been an emotional week in Ramsay Street. I am constantly breaking down in tears whenever I think about it. I can't eat, I can't sleep. My heart's a mess. I'm like a waterlogged ball that no one wants to kick around anymore.

Today, we farewell Bridget "Didge" Napier nee Parker in blog form. Didge introduced herself to the world of Neighbours by walking across the road while listening to her iPod and was hit by a car. The driver of the car was Susan, who was suffering some MS symptoms at the time and blacked out. Didge was left paralysed on one side of her body - I'm fairly sure it alternated whenever she got tired of holding a walking stick in a particular hand - but swiftly recovered. Then she went to a dance party and the roof fell on her; her soulmate Declan dragged her to safety (after first saving her boyfriend... I'm not sure who that says more about, actually). Didge also fell into a swimming pool while paralysed and almost died. Some would say that Bridget was lucky to have made it as far as she did without being killed. I'm surprised she could get out of bed without being suffocated by her pillow.

A common sight in Neighbours; Didge lying in hospital as Bastoni and wife look on lovingly.

In the field of love, Didge has dated Declan, Ringo, some guy called Josh, a rapist who she ended up killing, Declan, no one and then finally Declan again. As always happens, she fell pregnant after sleeping with Declan, but in true Didge spirit, refused to let this change her life; she was still all over Erinsborough, fighting the good teenager fight, including going to the General Store, the Milk Bar, the footy, the gym and to school camps, where she was swept downstream after her raft capsized and she was trapped for several hours in freezing water, barely conscious and suffering hypothermia. I believe it was her love for Declan and her unborn child that saved her life. This love was recorded in the history books as Didge, Declan, token Asian friend, Donna, Emo Zeke and Ringo happened across an old church while looking for Paul Robinson, who was on the run from the law. In the presence of God, four mates and a batty old vicar, Didge and Dec tied the knot in a ceremony that has been described as "beautiful," "totally Bridget" and "completely fucked."

Speaking of completely fucked, Didge's family has always been just that. Adopted by Steve "I'm Hungry!" Bastoni and Miranda, she has had the best of times and the worst of times. Following in Steve's footsteps, she was interested in veterinary science as well as AFL football, a sport in which it was proven that short, scrawny girls can definitely compete with adult males who have played the game their entire lives. After her brother Riley hooked up with their aunt and left Erinsborough for either Iraq or Sydney, Didge relied on Steve and Miranda and her loyal friends to help her through obstacles from being kicked out of school for being pregnant to always being hungry because she was pregnant as well as looking after her at a music festival while being nine months pregnant.

Steve Bastoni - women want him and men want to be him

As the song says, "Only the Good Die Young" and Bridget (and Paul Robinson) are testimony to that fact. The curse of leaving Erinsborough struck again as a nice, leisurely drive from Victoria to the top of Queensland with a month-old baby and three tired adults resulted in an unforseen tragedy. A horse ran out onto the road and Steve was unable to control the Bastoni-mobile (a 1990 VT Commodore) as this vestige of automotive safety ploughed into it or a tree or something, knocking everyone unconscious, and in fact, throwing both Didge and her baby through the windscreen and into scrubland. Slightly disorientated from the accident, Didge did the brave thing and wandered off with the baby, muttering nonsense to herself and going shit-tins crazy until collapsing somewhere.

The next twenty-four hours were hell for the Parkers, Napiers and everyone in the street as Didge fought off delusions and nightmares as she slipped away.

Tributes in the form of cake-making contests were held by the Scullys, and Karl Kennedy left his shift at the hospital to don the ritualistic blindfold to taste-test a chocolate cake and a vanilla cake, ultimately deciding that both cakes were "fucking terrible." New cakes were made and taken to the devastated Parkers, who no doubt felt like chowing down on some rich, moist chocolate mud after losing their daughter.

I would at this point like to give special mention to Declan's mother, Rebecca, for storming into the Parker's house full of piss and wind and looking like she was about to punch Declan in the face, tell him to get over the loss of his wife and "have some more fucking cake." Instead, she held her son in her arms and cried with him; it would have been a more touching experience if she hadn't have had so much cleavage exposed, but she had barely got dressed after her latest romp with Paul Robinson when she heard the news, so we can be thankful for small mercies that she was dressed at all.

What's next for the Napiers and Parkers? Well, the Parkers are packing up and fucking off out of Ramsay Street. I guess you can't blame them. As for Declan, I would love to see him hit the piss in a week-long binge of drunken angst, ultimately leading to him joining Alcoholics Anonymous and being able to preach at everyone else in the street for their hardships.
"Declan, I have cancer."
"Ringo, I know it's scary. It's how I felt when I went to my first AA meeting."
"Yeah, but dude... I'm going to die. Like, tomorrow."
"That's what I said when I realised I had a problem. I knew it was an issue when I was ordering shandies instead of orange juice."
"A shandy?"
"Yeah, it's lemonade with about a centimetre of beer in it."
"..."
"I'm an alcoholic, man. I can't even have lemonade without beer in it."
"..."
"I know. The cancer pain has robbed you of speech. I know how you feel, because, well... I'm an alcoholic."
"..."
"..."
"I fucking hate you, Declan."

"That's the cancer talking. I said things I didn't mean when I was drunk, too."

Rebecca and Paul's wedding will no doubt carry on as per schedule, i.e. next week. It's not the Neighbours way to let a death in the family stop the good times; and there are always going to be more dramas in store when a wedding is on. I predict a fire.

The friendship group will spend a day thinking about all the good times they had with Didge, and then dismiss her completely. You'll always live on in my heart, Bridget.

"that's when good neighbours
become... good... friends."

a gastronomical delight

After the "reality sensation" that was MasterChef Australia (and congratulations to whoever it was that won), we can now go back to our regular lives of eating regular food and not worrying about things like red wine jus and wasabi-balsamic mash or trying to find a new taste sensation by combining soy sauce and peas. We don't need to say, "I can really taste the lemon zest in this slow-cooked quail pancake; you've managed to find the right balance of flavours to bring out the texture of the meat to make it your own," anymore. Until the next season, no one will give a creme brulee about food, and the status quo will return - we can once again concentrate on eating proper food that is served to us by some fifteen-year old kid from a drive-thru and wait for The Biggest Loser to hit our screens again.

Mister Evil Breakfast's Guide to Fast Food and Shit and Stuff (MEBGTFFASAS)

McDonalds:

The granddaddy of all fast food outlets, Maccas should be underestimated at your peril. It's been around for so long because it's FUCKING AWESOME. There are few things as satisfying as a cheeseburger (two cheeseburgers are pretty good) and the Big Mac (while not as big as it used to be) is still worth the price of admission alone (which is free).

Specialities: Cheeseburgers and Big Macs. Selected stores open 24-hours.
On the downside: Burgers sold at 3am may not contain any sauce and will leave you downtrodden, disappointed and cold.


KFC:

Few things in the world touch my heart like fried chicken. Although it is often seen as inferior to the golden arches of Maccas, KFC deserves respect and recognition. Their value meals, for instance, are excellent in both quality and quantity, and nothing works better for my hangovers that a cold can of Mountain Dew and a hunk of chook dripping with fat.

Specialties: Wicked wings to die for. Good amount of food for your buck-buck-buck.
On the downside: Staff will always fuck up at least one part of your meal. Some stores have never been cleaned. Refusal to bring back Hot n Spicy coating. May cause salmonella.


Hungry Jacks:

Some people know them as Burger King; here in the great land of Canberra, we have Hungry Jacks. They're the same thing, trust me. Hungry Jacks have a pretty sweet value combo deal going with their variations of "The Whopper." For a fiver, you've got yourself a tidy little pile of food and ice-cream. Lucky it doesn't cost more, because the burgers are shit. In an attempt to make their beef "juicy", it seems that the staff are trained to soak each burger in vats of liquefied cows before serving. For a cheap meal that you have to lick off your arm and can taste all day, you could definitely do worse.

Specialties: Whopper Value Meals, and every girl in the world will swear by their Grilled Chicken, even though I don't rate it that highly. Their onion rings are also the best I've ever had; this might have something to do with the fact that they're the only place that does them. There's gotta be a reason for that.
On the downside: Their burgers require a straw to consume. Being born without tastebuds is also recommended.


Subway:

I am a massivo fan of the Subway restaurant. It makes me feel happy on the inside whenever I have the option of eating over a foot of sandwich. Subbers has enough choice to keep you interested, but not enough to fluster you if you can't decide between getting red capsicum or green. Even though it bills itself as being a healthy alternative to fast food, that only counts if you eat one of the staff members' hair nets.

Specialties: There's a deal on at the moment to get a foot-long meatball sub for $6. For $20, you'd get three feet of food and change. This is an exceptional meal deal, my friends.
On the downside: Not great for eating on the run or whilst driving. Got rid of their "Valued Customer Cards" before I had a chance to claim many, many freebies.


Ali Baba:

I have no idea how far the kebabs of Ali Baba have spread though Australia; if I had my way, it would dominate the landscape like a narwhal. They have a menu that I've never even thought about looking at - there's really only one thing you need at Baba's, and that's lamb, baby. You can have your choice of salad options, but don't fill your kebab up too much with useless greenery, save room for more lamb. It's good for what ails you. Also available: Beef or chicken. As if.

Specialities: Lamb.
On the downside: It may not actually BE lamb.


Pizza Hut:

Remember when everyone loved Pizza Hut? For some reason, they've become an endangered species. Apparently there are still a few floating around and they serve "All You Can Eat" meals for lunch, but these stories are yet to be confirmed and their sightings are "dodgy" at best. Pizza Hut is like the sasquatch of the fast-food world.

Specialties: All you can eat pizza.
On the downside: May not exist.


Kingsley's:

Kingsley's (as far as I know) is a Canberra-based southern-fried chicken franchise, and is what attracts (and keeps) visitors to the nation's capital more than anything else. Employment, weather, affordable housing are all fucking made-up bullshit stories. Get someone drunk and ask them "Why are you in Canberra?" and they will say, "Kingsley's chicken." Should Canberra ever host the Olympic Games, pieces of chicken will replace the gold medals. I know I'd be running fast.

Specialities: Chicken fillet burger with coleslaw AND gravy. This is all you need. This is all you'll ever need.
On the downside: A very confusing menu board, but since I know what I want (see "specialties"), this doesn't affect me.


Noodle Choice:

There are a few of these "fast food" Asian-style places popping up all over the world - you might know them as Wok-It-Up or Fly-Ly or Box'o'Soy or Noodles-n-Shit or something. They are all pretty good in terms of the amount of foodage that you get (plus they serve it in those cool take-away boxes that they always have in American movies and TV shows) and as far as my experience goes, tasty as all hell, as long as you don't mind the same taste for whatever you have chosen from the ninety-eight options on the menu.

Specialties: It doesn't matter; it's all the same. And it's all good. It is also very addictive; I think they might also put crack in it. And I don't care.
On the downside: The most impossible thing to have as a "quick meal" - it is a deceptively large serve that you are not legally able to eat with a fork, thus eliminating the option of eating-while-driving.

Hopefully this guide has prepared you for the next time that you are out and about for some fine dining to confidently tell the chef that you need more sauce for your McNuggets.

tip this ya bastard

It's sad to think that if they follow their dreams, all three of these kids will be arrested

Hellooooo everyone I have decide d to do the drunking thing again and tuipping while suckking red qwine and tequilla throguh a stra w and i knw its' porobably not a recmommended mix but it has its place in the wolrd just like evevryone else yea?H

after state of oranges was on wednesyday it makes a tiippers life veryy very hard you know? it's hard. life i s hard enough somethimes but this is a whlole new ballgame. wlel not a whole new ballgame because it's essnteially the same ssport you know it's still RGUBY LEGUE and it is a very fine soport indeed and i do enjoi it even f you dontr't.

with injuris n susspensions and stuff it will be veyr hard to tip this round. it;s a very hard round its a hard life somtimes for a tipper . life is hard for many poeple areound the globe it's hard enough to tipp a nomral week butt this ane is a whole nother ball gamae. have i sad that before???

ths tequila tasts like wine. more tqila please bartender!!111 wait i am the barntender never mind. i am doing a graet job as abartender i should do ths for a living

i am such a good bartneder

Broncos vs Rabbitohs
well. we much take into a count that there iwll be many sore heards in the brisbane area ths weak. and the jails wll be ful of rubgby leugae playsers who hav filmemd their misdddeeds on a mobil ephone . my phone is apieceofshit and it takes the video for a fifteen seconds only for me thats enough for two misdeeds and a cuddle LOL i am so funny (and badd in bed) this wek the rabbithohs will win bcause everyine in brissy will be all partying and bein g corey worhtsington

Bulldogs vs Titans
IT'S A CLASH OF THE TIRTANS and the bulldogz!! wheeeee ths would normallly be a great game normally this wold be but this is sooo not a normal round because of the afomentioned stape of oaring . right. so w i dont know who is out for any of thes e teams becuase ive lost trakc of who is playing htis great game of legdnds . so i thin that canterbudy doggies will win bcause simply they should be betterer than titnas i dont know why honstly . i think kimlorly plays fro the dogs z ns since he didnt do ANYYHING in oringns thn he should be likes the daisy fresh and pretty and shgould play well so i am still tppping the blue and whitse. aslo i don't' like the tittans at all no siree

Panthers vs Raiders
CAAAAAARN YOU RAIDSERS CAAAAAARN Caaarn. Caarn. Carn. Car. C. . they will nOT wiln this game - no way jose - i wish i was called jose and peolpe could say 'noo way jhjose' to me all te time whn i say smothing like 'remmebr when i gave you $2 hundred can i hav it back now plaese?" nad evryone will lau=gh and say 'no way jose' ad i will be happy but stikll a little bit poor. but the araiders arnott goin g too wel at the mmoment despite having desmoshed high-competition-flyers like the stroms and the goal coast butt they ar no match fro whoever thay are playing this weeek. no way jose. hahahahahahaha

batnender my beer tastes like teqila wait never mind.

Sharks vs Manly
chomp chomp chomp says the sharks and manly willbe loookg to cliffy lions and danny more to win this game. what its not 1985 naymore? well. i should chnge my pants then.
manly wshould easley avcount for the cronullas in hwis nsevh vut rhete cuayld ASO==L b nustes. what the fuck did i just try and type? ok. cronulla could upset the manlys in htis one but i will stil tip for the seagles to win.

this is such hard wok!

Roosters vs Warriors
chookoy chooky chooky chooks cheep cheep cheep they will lose

Tigers vs Cowboys
well. ths game depdns on a few th8ngs like hoiw tired will jonathon thruston be after spnding all week haveing the sex wiht his teammates wifes nad grilfiernds? i would b veyr tired so tired soooo sleepy zzzzzzzzzzzz

but i ma not a prfcsssional like thurston asnd he wilL NOT be tierd so the coaboys will win easzily so tip them. go on. tips them you know i am right.

Eels vs Storm
you knswo when yuve had a bit to dnkrink and you are caled up by one of yuor frinds "hye myster svil breakfast you are dsurnk!" and you say "no way jose" bcuase his name is jose and you scretly want to be him but you are trying realy hard to maintain you sobritey butt the hader tyou try and convinse your frnds that you arenyt drunk maks you seem a lot more durnker than you are actually are? thats like the parramcattas playing footy the harder that they try and pl ay makes it more bovious that they are indeeed a litle bit drunk oand .or retarded yes? can do you see wheir I am coming fr0m?

good becuase the meblournes are going to win and i dn't care how much purple they wear i thnk they look good.

The Giant Pie is the new mascot for the AFL

Because of the strong Japanese influence on AFL, this week's tips will presented in haiku form.

Bombers vs Bulldogs
the bombers drop balls
their fancy sash no match for
ugly little dogs

Blues vs Swans
do swans swim on blue
or does the blue hold the swan?
i don't really care

Cats vs Demons
kitten sleeping; dreams
of laughing devil faces
exorcise your cat

Magpies vs Hawks
a brace of magpies
is lucky, apparently.
i saw two today

Dockers vs Lions
blue beanie pride is
sitting by the wharf, smoking;
lions are hungry

Power vs Eagles
talons tightly grip
a power line; electric
currents flow futile

Tigers vs Kangaroos
tiger bares claws but
his stripes can't hide the shame of
Skippy kicking arse.

Saints vs Crows
st pete in heaven
kicks a crow through clouds, through earth
into pits of hell

My head hurts.

Happy tipping this weekend!

Transform and RUN AWAY

When the best part about a movie is the three minutes in the middle where you nick off to the toilet for a very satisfying whizz, you know you've just made a great investment to the cinema gods. My latest offering was in the form of $15 and about three-quarters of my brain to the geniuses behind Transformers 2: Revenge of The Fallen.

There should be laws against making movies this bad.

The worst thing is that it actually starts out ok - in the first ten minutes, we get Decepticons attacking Shanghai and the Autobots fucking their shit up. Optimus is in full-flight, ripping shards off anyone who comes within range. Nicely done. The Autobots, by the way, are working with the US Government (of course they are) to track down the Decepticons who are all kinds of pissed off about whatever happened in the first movie (possibly the fact that it was made), and are also looking for a new energon source (kind of like Transformers cheeseburgers - a life source) on Earth. So things get messy in Shanghai and buildings, bridges, cars, anything that gets in the way, is demolished by giant robots. Collateral damage, really, when it comes to saving the world. Apparently the US Government has managed to keep the existence of the Transformers a secret from the rest of the world, and they had a "hard time explaining" the 50-foot robot who fought off the 200-foot robot in front of thousands of people. I bet they did.

Minor quibbles aside, the movie was off to a cracking start. I wasn't hating it. The next ten minutes numbed my brain. Quick summary: Sam (hero of first movie) is off to college. His parents have apparently overdosed on "Shit Cliche Pills" and are having a hard time letting go of their son. Then there were two dogs fucking... twice... a couple of fart jokes (courtesy of some robots) and the worst scene in cinematic history where Sam's mum rampages around his college campus on a hash brownie bender.

Sam has also fairly inexplicably decided to leave his hot girlfriend at home... and his best friend, a transforming car named Bumblebee. Yeah Sam, nice work. Why would you want an awesome car and a hot girlfriend? The word "spastic" springs to mind. Actually, that word sprang to mind a lot during the course of this movie, which was a lot because this fucking flick goes for about 2 and a half hours.

Sam holds the key to the energon source that the Decepticons are after, and the Autobots have to try and protect him. Simple enough, really. It's funny how such a basic concept could have been expanded into many great moments. How this movie becomes such a fucking mess by forgetting about the plot and introducing two-thousand comic relief characters is completely beyond me. I swear there were at least a dozen scenes that were filmed for another movie and accidentally spliced into this one.

"But MEB, this is a childrenz' movie! LOL dont you think your're being to harsh on it LOLROFLCOPTER!"

I don't give a flying fuck who this movie is aimed at; it just shouldn't be as retarded as it is. Somewhere in the middle of this pile of shit, we meet an ice-cream van Transformer. Yep. An ice-cream van. While the Decepticons have fucking tanks, jets, armoured cars and construction vehicles that join together to form a giant fuck-off Transformer, the Autobots have ice-cream vans. But wait, it gets better - the ice-cream van is actually TWO Autobots - apparently the job of handing out soft-serves to the other Transformers is such a hard job that it requires the service of the two newest additions to my crowbar list, Mudflap and Skids. For no real reason, they switch from being joint ice-cream vendors to individual forms - some shit Holden Barina-type cars. Come on, US Government and Autobots... surely you could have found something that you know... had at least four gears and wouldn't break down all the time?

Mudflap and Skids then go about making this shit-flick even worse. They talk smack. They argue. They punch each other. They sound like they're from "da ghetto" and have mother-fucking gold teeth and admit that their "readin' aint so good, you know?" I was waiting for one of them to try and prostitute another Autobot off and then punch them in the mouth if they resisted. I've heard talk of a spin-off series featuring these two fucktards. Can't wait - I've always wondered what a transforming Barina would look like wearing a purple robe and a massive hat.

Seriously, the FATE OF THE WORLD IS AT STAKE (apparently) and who do the Autobots get to look after Sam? Not Ironhide. Not Ratchet. Hot Rod? No. Let's trust the fate of humanity to these fucking homos. Sometimes the world deserves to be blown up.

"LOL MEB you are angree 2day. but how good did the tranfomres look?!?!?!?!?! LOL"!"

The giant fucking robots did look fantastic, admittedly... until they moved. Congrats to the special effects team for giving me a seizure every time Optimus blinked. There are gears and cogs and shit spinning around so much on screen for the slightest movement, that when it comes down to two Transformers fighting it out, you have no fucking clue as to what's going on. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be like those "Magic Eye" pictures that were awesome in 1994, but I'm pretty sure at one stage I saw a unicorn. I sure as fuck didn't see an entertaining film.

By the time "robot heaven" was introduced, I was ready to piss all over the movie reel. But then I realised that the director, producers, actors and even the boom-mike guy had already done that.

Transformers 2 sucked.

I would trust transforming shoes to save the world more than I would most things

What a Lote rubbish

Lote Tuqiri was sensationally sacked by the ARU this week. No reasons have been given, but since he used to play rugby league, we can assume with some degree of confidence that he got a bit pissy and may have involved himself in some sort of sexual altercation. Apparently Tuqiri (who really should have another U in his name somewhere) was the highest-earning player in the Wallabies with a salary of over $1 million per year. Imagine how much money he would have earned if he was any good? It boggles the mind.

So this means that there's a spot opening up for some lucky punter to sit out on the wing and chat up the front row of the crowd. I could handle that. I’m quite witty.

Dear Wallabies Coach-man,

My name is Mister Evil Breakfast, and I would like to apply for the position of "winger" as advertised on seek.com.au following the recent departure of your last crack-fuelled show-pony princess with stupid hair.

I have attached my resume to this application for your interest. I am hoping that your interests include drawings of ninjas fighting dinosaurs, as that forms the basis of my CV at present. While it may appear that I do not have a lot (or any) experience in playing "rugby", I have been playing team sports for eighteen years, and have been described on more than one occasion as "quite slippery." I do not like rugby union, nor do I have much idea about how to play it, and thus I feel I would be a suitable replacement for Lote Tuqiri. I have never been involved in an official rugby match, but during high school, I once tackled a guy who was way bigger than me during lunchtime footy and I broke his collarbone. This is at least one tackle more than Lote Tuqiri has ever made in his life, which I feel puts me in good stead for this position. I also rang that guy up that night to see how he was, which (a) makes me a good ambassador for the game, and (b) so I could rub in that I hurt him. He was off school for a few days, such was the ferocity of my tackle.

My physical fitness is good, although I do have dodgy knees and a bad back, but this should not be a concern in considering my application, as from my experience in watching the “game they play in heaven”, I have noticed that there isn’t a whole lot of running involved. I am quite good at standing around while a couple of fat guys lie on each other, waddle forward and lie on each other some more. It’s not entirely about the fat guys lying around though; I can also stand around while some guy lines up a penalty kick, or stand around while a scrum forms seventeen times. Standing around is not only a hobby, it’s a passion of mine and something that I feel could form a part of my career.

In terms of my rugby skills, I cannot kick the ball tremendously well, I fumble simple catches and cannot pass to my right-hand side. Even though my talent would put me in the top echelon of the current Wallabies side, I would not expect to be handed the captaincy straight away. I’m sure whoever is leading the team now is doing a bang-up job when it comes to calling the toss. For the record, I always call tails – it never fails.

My current work contract is almost up so I am available to start immediately. I would be more than interested in negotiating a salary with you – Tuqiri’s contract was apparently worth $1 million and I would be more than willing to accept an offer between $40,000 and $1,000,000. If you do opt for the cheapest option, this would give the ARU plenty of money to buy more head tape, or a rule book or even to pay someone to find a use for the scrum-half.

I would also appreciate a parking space wherever it is that we train or play; my current work has just put their parking fees up and I reckon I’m going to struggle to get through the week and still have enough money for noodles and beer. Although with my blossoming rugby career, I should probably start looking after myself a bit better and cut out noodles; they're apparently made entirely out of MSG anyway. According to popular science, there is a steak in every stubbie, and I would like to have more steak, and wash it down with a beer.

I have read on the Wallabies' stats page that Lote Tuqiri weighed over 100 kilograms. By my reckoning, that means that I am over 30 kilos faster than he was. I would also require a smaller sized jersey (you can't go wrong with a medium, honestly) and wouldn't take up as much space on the team bus or plane. If you're sitting next to me, you can have the arm-rest, I don't mind at all. I'm a team player and will do anything for the coaching staff and my team-mates. Except for Matt Giteau, he seems like a cock.

If there’s anything else that you would like me to extrapolate on (including the meaning of the word “extrapolate”), please feel free to contact me. But don’t call too early, I’m usually a bit dusty in the morning, and don’t even think about getting any sense out of me before 11am on the weekend.

I look forward to dominating a professional sport that I don’t really care about very soon.

Sincerely,

Mister Evil Breakfast

I wouldn't have 30kgs of arms to carry around the field with me

fooseball

Happy Friday, sportsfans. Because I'm being a bit lazy, the ever-lovely April O'Neil is filling in for this week's footy tips. Take it away, tiger...

April:

Apparently my last lot of so called ‘celebrity’ tips were nothing to write home about. Or as Todd put it ‘they sucked’. Thanks Todd.

I thought my first step might be to actually watch a game – novel concept I know. It just so happened that we managed to score a littl’ ol’ game here in WA, so I trundled on down to watch the Rabbitohs and the Storm to take some notes. Apparently WA is the ‘adopted home’ of the Rabbitohs, which would normally be a good enough reason to support them. However any team, anywhere, dressed like a Christmas tree can forget getting any merch money from me. Who actually came up with those colours? And stripes? Don’t NRL clubs employ people with fancy titles like ‘marketing officers’ to run a whole series of concept designs on mahoosive pieces of card past a panel for a majority vote? Surely a whole panel of people couldn’t be responsible for such a fashion faux pas. Unless it was a panel made up of people with fashion tastes like my dad. Then anything goes.

Mister Evil Breakfast:

Sorry April, I'm going to have to interrupt. Because you are (a) a girl and (b) from a non-rugby-league-loving part of Straya, you think that uniforms are important, and because you're an AFL-kind-of-person, you have invented positions within the club such as "marketing officers" to recreate the fucking jersey every sixteen seconds so some punter who supports the team has to shell out another trillion dollars for a fucking sleeveless jumpie that they'll get to wear once before it becomes outdated. Souths have it all settled: they got some colourblind champion to design their uniform back in 1735 and have not looked back since. That's the way it should be.

April:
I found my seat (after a visit to the bar) which was behind the try line (see I even picked up some lingo) where the Rabbitohs were doing their warm-up. Actually, it looked more like they were preparing for a massivo group sex session (which I’ve heard is not uncommon in NRL). First they started with a little ‘ball’ tossing, followed by what appeared to be karma sutra stretches before some grappling and rolling around on the ground with each other, intertwined tighter than your nanna’s crocheting wool. I kid you knot (pun intended). I mean honestly (who throws a shoe), it’s no wonder NRL has a bad reputation.

Now a couple of the rules got me. I played a bit of touch rugby in my day, so I can get the general gist of having to throw the ball backwards and aiming for the try line. But when one team kicked the ball out of play and then got it back I was a bit perplexed. Are the umpires feeling sorry that they can’t keep the ball in play and therefore give it back to them? ‘It’s ok tiger, we know you were trying hard. Why don’t you have another go, see if you can’t keep it within the field of play this time?' 'Cheers mate, we'll give that a burl'.

MEB:

Can you explain to me then why someone who doesn't quite catch the ball in AFL still gets credited with a mark? If he truly "had control" of the ball, he would have held onto it. Still, fans of a game that gives away a point for "close enough" will probably never be able to fully appreciate the ballet that is rugby league.

April:
So now that I’m full bottle (yes it only took one 90 minute game), I’m going to give this tipping caper another shot.

Bulldogs and Cowboys.
Bulldogs are in second spot, and my favourite and playing number happens to be 2. Which would be ok if I ever decided to take up rugby, as the right wing threequarter (what exactly does he do with the other quarter?) because I’m not bad on the right side of the field. Plus if ‘wing’ actually refers to being near the sideline if you get bored you can always chat to the bench or the spectators. Anyway, Bulldogs for me.

Wests Tigers V Dragons
I actually bought a really cool glass dragon when I was in Canberra, found him the other day when I was unpacking boxes. I don’t have any tigers, or wests for that matter. If that wasn’t enough reason to tip the Dragons, sitting on top of the ladder probably works in your favour.

Titans v Warriors
IT’S THE CLASH OF THE TITANS... and the Warriors. Denzel Washington coaches the Titans, overcomes adversity and rock throwing racists to deliver a feel good movie about footy. Apparently there is also movie titled The Warriors, but I haven’t seen it, and therefore it’s got nothing. Titans

Roosters V Sharks
My goodness, they are so far down the ladder they're almost not on it. Raiders are obviously there for sympathy; keep them company before their mahoosively late run at the top 8. Have there been any coach sackings yet? Any talk that the Roosters are throwing matches to get better draft picks (do they even have draft picks in NRL?). I don't know and I’m guessing nobody really cares. I'm picking the Refs and if they don't win then it'll probably be the Sharks, who’ll want to lose less.

Raiders V Storm
So last time I did the unthinkable and tipped against the Raiders... so they won. I did take part of the credit for their win and using women’s logic (if I tip them and loose I’ll be more pissed than if I don’t tip them and they win) I’m potentially going to upset all the MEB readers and tip against them again. I’ll understand if I don’t get invited back.... Storm, just, and that’s as quietly as I can say it.

Eels v Broncos
I think the whole of Queensland could be having a mahoosive party for the next 4 days having won the Origin Series. That'll be enough energy for them to go out and smash the Eels this week, unless of course they are drug and alcohol tested before they play, in which case the Eels might stand a chance with no opposition. But I'm betting that won't happen (the drug and alcohol testing that is), so Broncos.

Knights v Rabbitohs
So after their karma sutra group sex warm-up, the Rabbitohs were all over the Storm – and they weren’t playing badly either. But they peaked early (typical) and the Storm were able to last the distance and win the game. Rather than focusing on who’s on top (no, What’s on top, Who’s on second) Rabbitohs should have been focusing on the Stormers’ wingers who pretty much had a country mile (and half a pitch) to score tries. I haven’t seen the Knights play, I hope they don’t try to dry hump the pitch before they play. Knights.

Why are there only 7 games? Are the Sea Eagles and Panthers having a week off for good behaviour? Or did they just not feel like playing this week?
Oh, and yes boys and girls, I know it's only an 80 minute game. It was a poor attempt at humour... full bottle... 90 minutes... never mind. Sigh!

MEB:

Because it's a split round due to State of Origin. No team in the history of the NRL has ever been rewarded for "good behaviour." There was a moment in 2002 when a team was "not as bad as the others" but that's about as close as we came.

Thanks for the tips, April!

Everything about this photo is just awkward

MEB:

I have not paid any attention to anything regarding AFL, not even on Sports Tonight. It's like it doesn't exist, although I am assured that they are still playing it. Maybe I need to knock out some teeth or something so I'll be more attuned to the AFL supporter.


Bombers vs Blues
These two traditional rivals (possibly) face up for what is going to be (possibly) the greatest game of AFL ever. I can't put a struck match between them. This will be a draw.



Magpies vs Dockers
The mighty Maggies up against the rather confusing Dockers. Both of these teams have the ability to catch a ball and kick it between some posts. Who could possibly pick a winner out of these two combatants? Not me. Draw.



Crows vs Swans

I've been salivating in anticipation of this game coming up. I have spent hours poring over statistics and game plans to try and figure out who might have the upper hand. After weighing up the pros and cons of each team, I have concluded that this week, they will fight out a draw.

Lions vs Demons
This is a tricky one - the Lions have that guy who kicks the ball, but the Demons will be looking for that guy who catches the ball to leave his mark on the game as well. The refs will be blowing their whistles and the crowd will be eating pies. I will be tipping a draw.


Eagles vs Hawks
Have you figured out what I'm doing yet? Yeah, I'm picking draws. This tip is no different. The feathers will fly in what can only be described as the most remarkable tied-score game of the round.


Cats vs Power
Wait. Cat Power - remember her? She was pretty good, but I'd be very wary if you were head to her concert. The Cats will look to have this one in the bag, but just watch out for a massive comeback in the bottom of the ninth from the Powers to lock up the scores. Someone will have a crack from about 70 metres out to win it on the siren, but he'll miss.


Kangaroos vs Bulldogs

This is a long round. I'm pretty sure this will be a draw. No, wait. Kangaroos. No... It will be a draw. Yep.

Saints vs Tigers

Sagittarius: Your AFL game this weekend will result in a tie, and many people will wonder why either of you bothered turning up to the game at all.

I figure "Sagittarius" is close to "Saints" (it helps if you can't read) and was the first star-sign that I thought of. Strangely, it's not even my star-sign. Well that's just weird.





Tune in again next week where I attempt to give a shit. Until then, just remember that Tipping is not just a city in China.

executive producers produce things quite executively

This film strip is apparently showing the movie '8', the much-anticipated follow up to 'Se7en.'

I do enjoy going to the "cinema" to watch a "movie". It is one of life's simple pleasures. People have been doing it for thousands of years, ever since Grug motioned to his cavemen friends to "come over and watch the wall with the man painted on it." That movie was later re-released by Kevin Costner as "The Postman." I prefer the original, myself.

Since our cave-dwelling forefathers had their cave-movie nights, the art of film has come a long way; there's movement and sound and special effects and boobs to keep us all entertained. As technology improves, movie-makers have decided to throw out scripts in order to fit in more effects - if anyone saw the latest three Star Wars films, you'll know what I mean. George Lucas took the term "special effects" and reversed it so that anything that appeared on screen that wasn't computer-generated therefore became more "special" than the other things that were. I fucking hate you, George Lucas. And thanks for pissing on Indiana Jones as well; you have officially ruined that hat forever. Why not fuck up some more great films? Dipshit.

Every movie that comes out these days has a budget that could feed lobster and Johnny Walker Blue to a large nation of starving hippopotamuses for years, yet very few of these films are actually any good. Strangely, some folk opt to "save money" on movie prices by installing in-home cinema systems in their loungerooms. I'm sure that their $8,000 TV and $12,000 surround-sound unit have paid for themselves while they sit around watching Pearl Harbour in glorious plasma-flatscreen-la-de-fucking-dah quality. If a movie needs to be loud enough to create stress fractures in your walls for you to enjoy it, you're probably too retarded to appreciate a decent film anyway.

Sorry, I think I got a bit off track there. That's unlike me.

There are a lot of dicks who decide to go to the cinema, seemingly to watch the same movie in the same session that I have decided to attend. Upon entering the cinema of choice, it is apparent that most people have left their brain in the car, so in order to minimise the collateral damage the next time you venture outside of your home-cinema complex, please remember the following guidelines:

Mister Evil Breakfast's Guide To Going To The Movies And Not Annoying The Shit Out Of Me So I Don't Fuck You Up With An Axe-Sharpened Crowbar (MEBGTGTTMANATSOOMSIDFYUWAASC).

1. Tickets
The first rule of MEBGTGTTMANATSOOMSIDFYUWAASC is not to forget to bring some cash. Hitting Hoyts for a flick didn't start out as free, and it sure as fuck isn't going to get free anytime soon. Complaining to the kid behind the counter about how expensive everything is is NOT COOL. Last time I checked, they didn't leave the pricing decisions up to the fifteen year old emos who work there. Most places these days have got everything organised - if you don't have cash, use your card. Got no funds - go for credit. No credit; go home. Don't even think about cracking out the chequebook - the kid at the counter has most likely never seen one in his life anyway. If you have no money, just piss off back to your place and watch Sea Patrol or something.
You may find that there are other people trying to buy tickets at the same time as you. This is called "a ticket queue." Don't piss and moan about the line; you're a part of the problem.

My advice:
Stand in line with a friend and annoy the piss out of those around you with your loveable larrikin antics and social observations.

2. Candy Bar
I don't like the word "candy" at all. It's so hideously All-American that I expect it to have its own sitcom and at least one spin-off special and be a guest on Rove and talk about its junior baseball career. However, going to the flicks can be hungry work - the clever devils at the cinemas have realised this and catered for it by the provision of tasty treats. These are also disturbingly expensive, but if you're willing to buy a bag of chips for $8, they're willing to sell them for $8. If you're a tight-arse like me, you will be drawn to the "Value Combos" that are on offer. Drink, popcorn, bag o' chocolates. Sounds sweet, right? But don't think that the large option is the best deal though, despite the kid at the counter telling you that the large-sized combo is only 50 cents more than the medium combo. What they're not telling you is that the medium already costs $129.50 and is the size of a zepellin anyway. You will not be able to eat it all by the end of the movie, and you cannot seriously ever consider taking it home to finish later. And besides, there are only four pieces of popcorn in the box that are actually warm. Do not mention to the popcorn-dealing-candy-bar-attendant kid how much you can buy popcorn for in the supermarket; unless you brought a microwave to the cinema, that pack of popcorn kernels was a massive seventeen cent waste. Either pay the kid for your popcorn, or head back home for some Sea Patrol.

My advice:
Plan ahead and buy some M&Ms from Woolies before you go in; you can buy an M&M factory cheaper than you can buy them at Hoyts. Better yet, get your friend to buy them and eat his.

3. Previews
As is tradition, there are small snippets, or "previews" of upcoming movies that are played before the feature film. The world is divided by the humble preview - you either love them or you hate them. Personally, I'm all for them. I like to see what's coming up so I can rag out people who bothered to see the latest piece of shit that "the producer of The Notebook" put their name to. It is also very NOT COOL to "tsk" and "nnuuuh" if there are more than three previews. If you don't like it, fuck off home and watch Sea Patrol. I'm sure the twelve thousand commercial breaks in that piece of shit will keep you entertained. I like to rate each film solely by its preview, and I'm never afraid to loudly voice my opinion on it. This can have its drawbacks if your opinion on the latest Matthew McConnaughey movie is "put a fucking shirt on, you sack of shit" and your girlfriend makes you take her to see that film two days later. Your treat.

My advice:
If you don't like previews, go and take a piss. For the amount of money that you paid for your ticket, that toilet break is worth around $900.
Be prepared for humble pie if you bag out the latest shirtless wonder's romantic comedy exploits.

4. The movie
All that waiting and popcorn tossing and it's finally here. The movie is beginning! Oh boy, this sure is exciting. Try not to clap too much; as some people scare easily and they could have a heart attack and die.

It is now officially dark - whatever foodstuffs you have brought in with you are now somewhere in your lap - now is a good chance to see just how capable you are with your hands. Sure, you may be able to unclasp a bra strap one-handed, but can you find the opening of your Maltesers while stuffing popcorn into your mouth (or if your aim is bad, your ears… or if you’re hilarious, into your friend’s ears)? It's also a time for shhhh - if you must say something, make it audible only to the person next to you, and make sure that you know that person. Sometimes some smart-arsed comments are not welcomed when whispered to strangers.

Please try to keep up with the movie. Asking plot questions is NOT COOL, because while someone is explaining it to you, things continue to roll in the movie and if that person loses track of what's going on while they're explaining the last hour to you, you're both fucked and they may hate you forever. If your mobile phone isn't off yet - do it now. If it rings, I'll track you down and beat you to death with it. Unless it's a good phone, then I'll steal it and beat you to death with mine (which is switched off/not working). If you have set your phone to "vibrate", don't answer it unless you're Jack Bauer. If there was a life and death situation that only you could handle, I doubt you'd be wasting time by seeing a fucking movie.

If you didn’t pee before you came in, you might need to have a quick slash at some stage during the film. This is not a problem – you’re missing the movie, not me. But when you come back into the cinema, please don’t be yelling, “Yo Keisha! Where the fuck you at?" and then fall down the stairs. She’s actually fairly surprised that you made it back to the right cinema at all, and was secretly hoping that you got lost and starved to death.

My advice:
If you must do something with your mouth, fill it up with popcorn and chocolate, or chew a pencil, or give out blowjobs or something. Just shut the fuck up.

5. After the movie
The credits roll and the house lights come back on; the movie as we know it is over. This is a tricky time during the movie experience – some people like to sit back and reflect on what they’ve just seen; others jump over seats in a fucking mad rush to get out and steal cigarettes from people at the bus interchange. Me, I like to play a game with whoever I’m with to try and get them to stay in the cinema with me for as long as possible. If I can be the last person out of the room, then my day has just got significantly better.

This is also a good time to become that old guy and the elf-chick from the SBS movie show and give the film a quick review. If you’re an idiot, this may backfire and you’ll probably give away that you couldn’t keep up with the plot and you wished that Adam Sandler at least had a cameo in it.

My advice:
Throw away your rubbish on your way out – cause the kids who work at the cinemas sure as fuck won’t.


That’s about it, really. If you’ve been to the late session, you may steal whatever promotional things are hanging in the foyer, including cardboard cut-outs, drink cups, popcorn boxes and David Carradine (what, too soon?). If you’ve been to an earlier session, you should think about (but ultimately resist) sneaking into another cinema to watch half a movie that you didn’t want to see in the first place, and go and grab a beer and some hot chips instead.

Please hold onto your ticket and enjoy the movie!

tipping the scales of breakfast

Apologies go out to all the awesomenauts who have been missing my brilliance and hilarity on a weekly basis. I’ve been busy and sick and dying and doing other things that haven’t involved being supersonically rad in all ways. I did learn how to ollie my skateboard though, and tomorrow I’m going to fight an octopus.

I’ll ease myself back into the high-rolling life of being a blogger by ignoring my regular paying job and doing some footy tips. I’m fairly sure the world will keep spinning without my paper shuffling and looking up episodes of Growing Pains on YouTube. The world did stop spinning briefly last week when I didn't post anything on here though.

According to some site that I just looked at to work out who’s playing whom this weekend, both AFL and NRL are having a split round. This is good news for everyone; it means I don’t have to struggle through a lot of stupid reasoning behind my tips and you don’t have to read too much shit about who I particularly hate in any particular team. Note that I didn’t say you wouldn’t have to read ANY shit about who I hate, I still hate a lot of people. But this week, I’m going to concentrate on how great the Raiders are/were.

Onto round twenty-eight billion and a half:

Bulldogs vs Panthers
In 1994, Canberra beat the Bulldogs in the Grand Final; it was an awesome game – John Lomax was suspended and Paul Osborne was brought in as his replacement as a surprise inclusion for the Raiders; Ozzie threw a couple of magic passes to set up two tries, before Big Mal snatched an intercept and beat Jarrod McCracken across the line. 1994 was a good year for Canberra. I’d say the Dogs might have just recovered from that by now and will probably beat Penrith this week.

Cowboys vs Roosters
It was 1990 when Canberra beat the Roosters 66-4 at Bruce Stadium, with Big Mal strolling through some turnstile defense on his way to five tries in that match. You should have heard the crowd go absolutely ballistic when the Chooks scored after a disgracefully obvious double-movement for their only score after being 60 points down. It was fucking beautiful. I reckon that the Cowboys will be able to shuffle in for at least half of that 1990 score without breaking sweat, and possibly without Jonathon Thurston, who will no doubt be having sex with his team-mates’ girlfriends while they’re not looking. His team-mates, I mean, not their girlfriends.

Storm vs Tigers
One of the greatest Grand Finals of all time was the 1989 clincher, when John "Chicka" Fergusson ducked, weaved and smoked his way over the line to send the game into extra time. It was a beautiful moment, especially when Ben Elias cried after missing a field goal attempt from about 15 metres out. As far as I know, Canberra are yet to beat the Storm at pretty much anything, so the ol’ Melbournites shouldn’t have much problem running over those Tigresses.

Sea Eagles vs Raiders
It was back in the hazy days of 1998 when all seemed lost for the Raiders one fateful afternoon. Manly were up by 18 points after about seven seconds. Laurie Daley was playing on one leg; after he lost the other one and his right arm had to be substituted, the crowd would have been forgiven for thinking, "I knew I should have just stayed at home, got drunk and yelled abuse at the tv instead of getting drunk here and yelling abuse at real live players who could probably crush me between their pecs." Enter the ‘Super Macs’ – Andrew MacFadden and Mark McLinden. They formed a partnership that the competition feared for about three rounds until everyone realised they really weren’t all that good after all; they were just really short. I’m fairly sure there’s some Mac in all of us, so look for Terry Campese to completely Mac it up for this game and lead Canberra to another crushing victory.

Sharks vs Broncos
"Chip and chase by Mullins… chip and chase again by Mullins – if this comes off, it’ll be a miracle – OH IT IS A MIRACLE!" Thank you, Ray Warren for the greatest piece of commentary ever. Brett Mullins and Darren Lockyer had a rivalry as to who could claim the title of greatest fullback in the history of sport – my money would be on the Mullet in his hey-day, but Locky has probably expanded his game somewhat more since then. But on that night, Lord Mullins stamped his authority on rugby league folklore by cracking a try that he attempted a few more times in the next couple of years without success – much like Billy Slater’s try from Origin a few years back. Anyway, Brissy should win this puppy fairly easily.

Really, only three games for the AFL this week? That can’t be right. But I’m not going to check another website just in case it’s wrong and I have to do more blogging. I’m not even going to bother putting up pictures of AFL stuff this week. I know, I have completely lost interest in the world.

Bombers vs Demons
I think the Demons are going shizzenhaus this year; shizzenhaus being a German word for "shithouse." It may not be, but I think if you said it at Oktoberfest then people would still know what you were talking about. Unless you’re me, of course, then no one in the world can understand a word I'm saying unless I'm attempting to buy a badge with the Puerto Rican flag on it and stick it into my pirate hat. I’m not sure what fake German beer, Puerto Rico and pirate hats has to do with AFL, but then, what does AFL do for fake German beer, Puerto Ricans and pirates? Nothing.

Did I tip yet? I couldn’t be bothered losing brain cells by re-reading what I just wrote, so go Bombers.

Swans vs Magpies
I’m pretty sure Eddie Maguire owns the Maggies, and I really don’t like that guy. Like, if he has a "typical Aussie bloke" on one of his shithouse (for the German translation, see above) game shows, he’ll always bring up which footy team they go for and bag them about it. If that guy is from New Zealand, he’ll make jokes about them having sex with sheep in a "laughable" manner. And he says "mate" way too much, it shits me to tears. Besides, he’s on at the same time as Deal or No Deal, and Andrew O’Keeffe is my bro. I’d totally get drunk and lie in gutters with him. In short, yay Swannies!

Dockers vs Cats
I saw an emo kid in the city a while back who had whiskers painted on his face. I thought he was just a bit retarded as all emos are, but now I realise that he is actually a mad keen Geelong supporter. I am yet to see anyone, emo or otherwise, dressed up as a Docker. I’m thinking of going to a school fete over the weekend and hitting up the free face-painting tent and asking for a "Docker" instead of my usual "Spider-Man" face paint. I’m pretty sure the face-painting attendant will just look confused for a bit and neither of us will be any closer to learning what a Docker actually fucking is. My spell checker doesn’t even know. My spell checker knows who Spider-Man is though. And that’s why I’m tipping the Cats; because of my love of Spider-Man face-paint and spell-check.

If you can’t grip it, don’t tip it.

show us your tips

The NRL have now rethought their idea for Todd Carney to design football jerseys

Welcome to State of Origin week. Hooray! As much as I'd like to tip the baby Blues for the win next Wednesday, I can't see them holding out the QLD backline, even if Karmichael Hunt gets a game. I freakin hate that guy. Erotic pleasure for all if NSW get up though. Hey, we can all dream, right?

Split round:

Dragons vs Panthers
The Panthors are travelling quite well this season... and as much as I hate St George, I still reckon they'll have the class to sneak away with a win. They might have to cheat to do it though, but that's not really stopping anyone in the NRL this year.

Eels vs Sharks
Remember that South Park episode where Timmy and Jimmy had a cripple fight? This is round two of that epic battle. I'll tip the Eels because they're slightly less retarded than the Sharks. Those poor Sharkies. Andrew Ettingshausen should leave his fishing show and help them out a bit. Actually, he should just leave the fishing show, it's an annoying interruption in my weekend television viewing.

Warriors vs Tigers
I've lost all faith in the Kiwi lads when it comes to rugby league, I'm afraid. I mean, I never had a huge amount, but this year they're really not doing much to impress anyone, even though I tried to convince everyone that they were good.

Knights vs Bulldogs
...Bulldogs. I feel dirty for tipping them, I really do. But they're sitting on top of the ladder, don't have a single player out for Origin duties, and as far as I know, don't have anyone in jail or awaiting trial either. But hey, it's only Thursday and a lot can happen to an NRL player in 2 days.

Rabbits vs Raiders
After last week's massive return to form, expect the Raiders to slump back into the losing groove. But fuck it, I'll still tip em. They're my boys. My little spazzies. God bless em.

If only there was something to jump for, eh boys?

Blues vs Eagles
REM have a song on their 2004 album "Around the Sun" called "Electron Blue." A lot of people didn't like that album, but I rate it sooo much higher than "Reveal." Either way, both albums were over produced and were too slow. Still, "Electron Blue" is a decent track, and is about a futuristic drug that is made of light. REM have not had a song about a Weagle (or even a regular eagle) so I will tip the Electron Blues.

Bulldogs vs Swans
I think there's too many bulldogs running around on sporting fields, to be honest. Seriously. Too many. There's at least two that I know of, anyway. Only one group of Swans though. Points to the Swans for being original, even if slightly effeminate.

Kangaroos vs Lions
Shit, I don't know. Ummmm. I hit a kangaroo with my car once; it fucked my car up (but fucked the roo up more). I am yet to have had my car trashed by a lion, so they get my tip this week.

Saints vs Demons
Haven't these guys played each other recently? I seem to remember dribbling something about the holiness of the Saints and the evilness of the Demons. I think I tipped the Saints then, and I'll do the same again this week.

Dockers vs Tigers
I don't care for the Dockers; there's something about their name that shits me. I'm going to tip the Tigers, even though they apparently suck. Maybe this week they'll come good. It honestly doesn't bother me if they don't.

Crows vs Hawks
The brown and yellows are favourites to win the premmy this year, aren't they? Maybe? I dunno, I might just be making up some stats (insert joke about how 87% of all statistics are made up on the spot). Sorry Radelaide boys, but I'm going against you this week.

Bombers vs Cats
People have often asked me about my tipping choices when it comes to natural selection - things like the Bulldogs vs the Lions (a lion would totally eat any kind of dog, not necessarily just bulldogs). So then they say, "So the Bombers would always win, then?" But it depends on how you look at it. If you have a cat on the ground and a plane comes down and drops a couple of bombs on it, well of course the Bombers would get up. But if you had a pilot who was about to drop his bombs, but someone had hidden a cat in the plane and it got loose just as he was about to hit the "bombs away" button, the cat would probably scratch that guy to within an inch of his life. The pilot would be completely caught unawares; the last thing he's expecting is to be confronted with a cat - he's in a plane for fuck's sake! Even worse is that the pilot is terribly allergic to cats and he dies. The cat pushes the pilot out of the way and takes over the stick and lands the plane safely. Therefore, Geelong to win.

Maggies vs Power
I have seen Magpies sitting on Power lines. I have not ever seen a Power line sitting on a Magpie. I think that means that magpies are the dominant species when it comes to birds and power lines. Case closed.

Good luck for the weekend - I'm here all week, don't forget to tip your waitress. (See what I did there?)

Banks a lot, you bankers

Organisation has never really been a part of my life. I am, by all definitions of the word, disorganised. I have good intentions, really; one day I will file my bank statements together in chronological order; one day I will take my rubbish out; one day I will iron a shirt instead of giving it two shakes before I put it on. One day I even hope to be early for something. Just once. But I’ll try not to get too far ahead of myself, I think baby steps are the way to go for now.

Due to this lack of organisation, sometimes I run out of money. And by sometimes, I mean fortnightly. It’s not that I lead an extravagant lifestyle – a lot of people would put an extra coat of gold on their salt and pepper shakers, but not me. I’m happy to sleep on a bed that’s stuffed with $50 notes and shower in Moet like regular people. I eat wagu beef stuffed with caviar and abalone and throw it away because I don’t like either caviar or abalone, and I buy a new Cray Supercomputer every time I close an application in Windows. So yes, I am living well below the poverty line to the point that a homeless bloke gave me a few bucks “to catch the bus” the other day. More fool him, I spent it on drugs. Not very good ones though; for $2, the guy I bought heroin from sold me an empty baggie.

Anyway, after a weekend that possibly involved a pint or two too many, I knew I was a smidge short in the old commerce area of my life. Since I’ve already got drunk and bought a guitar online and completely forgot about it until eBay sent me an email congratulating me on my winning bid (true story), I figured I was good for a couple more days of eating Prada handbags and burning Ferraris to keep warm. That’s until I checked my bank thingy on the intergoogleweb and discovered that I’d had a few direct debits slide their way out of my account while I was looking at this ant on my balcony:

Those sneaky bastards at the bank took all my money; so much so that they took more money than I had. That’s quite rude. It’s like a ‘no smoking’ sign on your cigarette break. It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife. It’s. Just. Fucking. Rude.

Captain Bank took my cash until it was gone, then they took more, and THEN they slapped a fine on me for the pain and heartache I obviously caused them by not having any money. I have no idea how this ever became an option; there’s no money in the account, yet they’ve penalised me the sum of $45.

That’s like being involved in an organ transplant where you need to donate three kidneys. You can try as hard as you like to produce a third; hell, you can even offer your liver and spleen as consolation prizes, but it’s just not going to work. Stupid banks, they should stop trying to do organ transplants and stick to what they’re best at: not serving customers and giving people a queue to stand in during their lunch break.

round round round like a record baby

Welcome to the next round of footy tips. I know you were all waiting for my tips last week, sorry I missed them; I was too busy fighting off Matty Johns’ sexual advances. Oh wait, we’re over NRL sex jokes now? Right. In that case, I was too busy thieving bar mats from a Thai nightclub.

On that note, I will now not steal bar mats from King O’Malleys ever again, and especially not blame it on my friend when I/we get busted for it. I had no idea these things were so valuable. Sorry about that, Skip.

For all intensive purposes, let’s just assume that last week I tipped a full round and was proclaimed to be the best thing since bread came sliced. This week, tips are proudly brought to you by April O’Neil, who is actually a girl who lives in Perth and has never seen a game of rugby league. I reckon she’ll do ok.

Rock on, April…

Eels vs Rabbitohs
April says: So I’m pretty sure Big Russ dragged the Rabbitohs back from the abyss, and being a bit of a fan of his (because despite the fact that he’s a born kiwi lad we’ll actually claim him as our own because us Aussies are good like that) I’ll go with them this week.
Mister Evil Breakfast says: My brother will kill me if I tip the Bunnies because they get beaten whenever I do. Go Eels. My love for Parra is everlasting.

Wests Tigers vs Broncos
April: If I was asked to name one of the 16 footy teams, and for the benefit of the readers by footy I mean NRL (in case you are an AFL convert like me), it would be the Broncos. I don’t know why I happen to know they play in maroon and are from Brisbane, but I do. And after watching Sports Tonight last night, why the hell is Wests plural? It’s as bad as my brother’s hockey team Wasps. You think you’ve finished yelling for your team, and all of a sudden you have a whole heap of snakes hissing. Broncos, just so I don’t get tongue tied when I mention their name.
MEB: I like your style, April. Alas, the Broncos uniform is more white and yellow than it is maroon, but your heart is in the right place, i.e. your chest. I knew a guy who had his heart in his left leg; that was weird. I’m lying, I don’t know anyone like that at all. I need to meet more people.

Sharks vs Dragons
April: Whilst arse can get you a long way in footy tipping, there are some golden rules. Like not picking the bottom side, unless their coach has been sacked in which case they are sure to be playing your team and will beat them. So Dragons for me.
MEB: I love that Cronulla is in the comp, it means that the Raiders won’t come last. Awesome.

Panthers vs Roosters
April: Panthers have that slick, sexy, mysterious look about them. Roosters are annoying when they wake you up at stupid o'clock. Panthers.
MEB: And I hate Willie Mason.

Bulldogs vs Storm
April: We had our first rains in about 23 years today, so if that's not an omen I don't know what is. Storm.
MEB: I am SO hungry right now.

Raiders vs Warriors
April: I'm sorry, I can't do it. I'm sure most readers are massivo Raiders fans, but tipping with your heart won't win the big bucks (and if there are big bucks involved why don't I know about them???). Plus Kiwi's are hot (and given their World Cup win last year, can apparently play a bit too). Warriors
MEB: The Raiders were obviously robbed in last week’s game (lost 46-6 to the Storm) so they’ll use that as motivation to overrun the hapless kiwis. And I have it on good authority that Joel Monaghan is getting his hair cut today, so he’ll be looking slick and will be more aerodynamic than ever.

Titans vs Sea Eagles
April: It's the CLASH OF THE TITANS… and the Sea Eagles (thought I'd keep some continuity on the blog). I tried to find some photos of the teams/boys to make a typical female call based on colours and arses. All I could come up with was that Manly’s Matt Ballin was voted the sexiest man in the NRL. So I typed his name into the search engine and came up with this photo:

I thought ‘if that’s the best NRL had to offer it’s no wonder I watch AFL! But then I googled him, and found a photo with his shirt off. All was forgiven – Manly, whichever of the two teams that is.
MEB: I appreciate the continuity. For the record, I don't rate Matt Ballin at all, Manly are the Sea Eagles and the Titans are a bunch of girls.

Cowboys vs Knights
April: Cowboys are so not fashionable at the moment, but every single gal wants a Knight in shining armour to sweep her off her feet. Knights
MEB: Knights are shinier, too.

April: I take no responsibility for my actions… or these tips.
MEB: With great power comes great responsibility. And women.

This seems to be a well-rehearsed play. Forget about looking at the ball, just wave your hands around

Do they still play AFL? I hadn’t noticed. In the rare event that they players all stop tickling each other and kick the ball betwixt those sticks, here’s who will win:

Cats vs Dogs
The epic struggle of history’s greatest rivals continues. Most would say dogs will win, but dogs are stupid, and if you piss a cat off, the dog will always get a fair scratching. Cats can be vicious, man.

Kangaroos vs Dockers
When I was typing this, I accidentally wrote “Doggers” and then it took me about an hour to realise that there’s (a) no such word as Doggers, and (b) I wouldn’t go for them even if there was such a word. Go Roos. I’m so tired.

Crows vs Blues
I saw a crow on the way into work today. I’ll take that as an omen. It might have been a magpie, actually. I think it was dead. Hmmm. Sometimes these omens are hard to decipher. Like, my car is blue, but that’s not a good enough omen for me. I see that thing every day.

Eagles vs Magpies
I can fly higher than an eagle because you are the wind beneath my wings. Thank you for providing inspiration to the Eagles, Bette Middler. I’ll never forget your guest appearance on Seinfeld. I have no idea how you ever became famous or successful.

Tigers vs Bombers
The Tiges are in Struggletown, if what I’m hearing on Sports Tonight is correct. The Bombers are in Essendon. I think that speaks volumes.

Swans vs Power
On REM’s fourth CD (Lifes Rich Pageant, 1986) there’s a song called “Swan Swan H.” It’s a really good song, actually. The H was finally revealed in 2007 to stand for “Hummingbird” which I already knew, because it’s the next word in the chorus. Sometimes Michael Stipe isn’t as cryptic as he thinks he is. Go Swans.

Saints vs Lions
I think these teams should merge and be St Lions. How awesome would that be? A big fuck-off lion cruising around spreading peace and doing God’s will by eating people. I can’t wait. I think the Saints are going well this year, yes? Let’s continue on that bandwagon then, friends.

Hawks vs Demons
Seriously, how many teams are in this comp? I feel like I’ve been writing this shit for hours. I’ve got things to do today. Honestly. I think I heard something the other day about how much the Demons suck; I admit, I may be making things up or hearing voices, but those voices haven’t let me down yet, so I’m going to stick with them. Go Hawkeye.


Good luck this week, and remember: Tipping isn't just for Christmas.

Ashes Ashes we all fall down

So as I was lying on my deathbed last week, I began counting my blessings (as you do). Hilarious, witty, charming, handsome... It was a long list. Anyway, my blessings apparently don't include "being awesomely good at cricket" which is something that I will always regret. I am guessing that Ricky Ponting will have the same issues when his time comes (hopefully next Friday).

And then I got better and my deathbed reverted to being my normal bed again, which was nice. Less brooding. I should change the sheets though.

"Not being awesomely good at cricket" has meant that I've been left out of the Aussie squad that is attempting to quash the old enemy and retain that tiny little urn that is all things dinky-di-true-blue-she'll-be-right-cobber-blokey-Dazzler-Davo-hooroo-matey-tinnie-barbie-Oz - the Ashes. The Ashes are steeped in tradition, and the popular version is that the trophy holds the actual ashes of the bails that were burnt in the first game in which Australia defeated England, signifying the 'death of English cricket.' I would prefer if the captain of the losing side was burnt and his ashes were put into an egg cup, but that's just me.

The recent fight to be the Ashes' holder has been a bit dicey - it was Australia for about a million years, then England won them back (possibly by cheating) in 2005, then Australia desmolished the pack of under 12 girls that the Poms sent out here to defend them in 2007. Will the see-saw of cricketing power continue to do what see-saws do, or will Australia regain their once-solid grip on the Ashes urn like a piece of blu-tac that cannot be removed from a wall? Will England surprise the Aussies as if they were the unsuspecting recipients of a surprise-party, or fall like baby giraffes with bad hips?

Time will tell. So will the scoreboard.

Australian cricket has been in a bit of a slump lately; we convincingly lost to India, couldn't even beat the Kiwis and drew with the Saffas. Zimbabwe and the Bangladeshis were pissing in their pants with excitement to have a hit against the Aussies and finally beat someone other than themselves, but they couldn't afford to tour after the clever dicks at Cricket Australia withdrew their "Save the Children" donations.

So who has been picked to head over to Londontown to defend the Australian honour? These guys:

Ricky Ponting (captain)
To be more correct, 'captain' should be prefixed by 'should not be' and suffixed with 'let alone be in the team' and have the parenthesis taken off so his name would be "Ricky Ponting should not be captain let alone be in the team". I may have over-explained that. I don't like Punter at all, and if he fails in this campaign, should kiss his career, sponsorships, wife and acorn collection goodbye.

Michael Clarke (vice-captain)
On his day, Pup is the goods. When it's not his day, he's an embarrassment to anyone who has ever said, "That Michael Clarke's a good player." While being highly revered for his prowess against spin bowling, he consistently gets out to them fairly cheaply and some (me) would say, rather stupidly. With some fitness concerns, way too many tattoos and shit hair, Clarkey is the next generation of Australian cricketers. And he has a wife who I can never make up my mind as to whether she's hot or not.

Stuart Clark
Despite being a dirty-firsty, Stuart Clark is possibly my favourite guy called Stuart that I know. Possibly. He's a no-nonsense kind of bowler, hits a good length and keeps the batsmen honest. Will probably get tonked for a million in England though, as he's just had surgery on his entire skeleton and looks like he would probably rather be sinking piss and eating pies than having to spend another tour with Ponting gnawing away in his ear.

Brad Haddin
Haddo is the first-choice wicket-keeper which is a definite worry as he struggles at the very basics of cricket, such as catching the ball. Considering that the only bowlers that Australia have are pacemen, the ball shouldn't be that hard to grab when you're standing about 60 metres away from the guy who's chucking it to you, but he finds a way. Haddin has spent some time in Struggletown with the bat, but has also scored a few decent knocks as well. So he's a loose cannon. I probably should have said that to start with instead of going on about his "sometimes there" skills. Personally, I think he looks like the kind of guy you'd love to hit in the balls with a pool cue and not feel bad about it.

Nathan Hauritz
Dear me. Dearie dearie me. The only spinner picked to tour is this guy - which says a lot about the Australian spin bowlers at the moment. Hauritz possesses a devastating 'straight ball' that he will use at least six times an over. Remember when the phrase "Australian spin bowler" used to make the English batsmen cry? Yeah, cherish those memories.

Ben Hilfenhaus
For fuck's sake, I AM AVAILABLE TO PLAY, AUSTRALIAN SELECTORS! I can't bat or bowl, my throwing arm is custard and I have a tendency to drop really easy catches. Why Hilfy over me? No idea. The universe is a puzzling place. At least my name reads like it's actually a completed word; if you had a shirt with "Hilfenhaus" written on the back, you'd probably think that a few letters fell off in the washing machine, and you'd go mental trying to find them.

Phillip Hughes
Sounds very regal, doesn't it? "Hello, my name is Phillip Hughes. Fetch me some rose water." However, I think the guy's actually a bit of a bogan, and I doubt anyone has ever called him Phillip (even his mum). Phil can bat like a little fucking champion, and even though he's only 20, should have been in the Aussie team about 7 years ago. That'd shut that Tendulkar bloke up, wouldn't it? "Meh meh meh, I was in the national side when I was 15 (or something). Meh meh meh." Tendulkar and Hughesy then could have had a contest to see whose balls dropped first. My money's on Tendulkar, though.

Michael Hussey
Michael Hussey? Michael? It's Mike, you stupid newsite that I copied this list from. Mike. The Huss is scratching around like a blind, demented rooster in a pile of syphyllis at the moment, and a lot of people have lost faith in him. Not me though. No way. Well, maybe a little. But I still love him. Just, you know... not as much as I used to.

Mitchell Johnson
Australia's latest revelation. Mitch stands out for his consistent ability to bowl fast, take wickets, field well and score runs against different types of bowling. But then, it's not hard to stand out for doing that with this pack of idiots surrounding you. It'd be like Raphael sitting in a tank of regular turtles and proclaiming himself to be better than them because he has ninja skills. Whether Johnson will be able to shoulder most of the responsibility of actually playing cricket for Australia while the other guys lick windows and wave to strangers on the bus is another thing entirely. Look for an injury in game three, I reckon.

Simon Katich
The Kat has oft been overlooked for Test representation because he's not flashy, isn't arrogant, doesn't snort lines of coke off the backs of Asian prostitutes and generally does what cricketers should do, i.e. play cricket. And apparently he put Michael Clarke in a headlock and threatened to kill him for trying to pussy out of the team song after a rare Australian win, so he's definitely on my list of "awesome blokes." I'd invite the Kat around to play Playstation with me, but would always let him win because (a) I'm shit at Playstation, and (b) I reckon he'd get violently angry if he lost.

Brett Lee
Brett Fucking Lee, welcome back, you show pony princess. This is Binga's official last roll of the dice for his cricket career, so he'd better perform. Personally, I hope he does; he seems like a good bloke. If I ever meet him, I think I'd try and get his autograph on a beer coaster or something, and then hang around him for way too long, talking about cricket and music and his brother (Shane) and his divorce and his sexuality and stuff. You know, just to make him a little uncomfortable because I'm a prick like that. Then I'd buy him a light beer and see if he takes it or not. Anyway, after having had some surgery to his hair, Bing has been thrown a lifeline to play for his country again, without having had any match practice in about seven years. Nice gamble, Aussies. My money's on black. Always bet on black.

Graham Manou
A tourist - he's been picked as the back-up wicket keeper so he won't be used unless Haddin dies and his body is ripped apart by rabid wolves or something. Good fucking luck getting the gloves, Gram. I quite like his name, too. Manou. Manou. Nice.

Andrew McDonald
Well, every team needs someone to pick on, right? Might as well be the ranga who can't bat, bowl or field. Macca thinks that's what Hilfy is in the team for, just quietly, so don't tell him. I am not impressed with anything this guy does on the field, but he's actually pretty funny and intelligent off it. Welcome to being a fish out of water with this lot, tiges. Enjoy your trip to England, don't forget to call your mum when you arrive safely (shut up, my mum made me do it as well).

Marcus North
Northy. Northo. Northwah. I've don't really have much to say about him, other than adding a different sound onto the end of his surname. Northington. The best thing about Northqueensland is that he's keeping Andrew Fucking Symonds out of the team, which is just fucking dandy by me. There's a movie called "Goal" about some idiot guy called Santiago who plays soccer and somehow goes from having a social kick-around in the slums of Guatamala (or something) to play in the Premier League (or something) in about two weeks. Every time there was a test of his skill, fitness or moral fibre, Santiago would fail it and then say, "Give me another chance!" and the coach would say, "Yeah ok," and Santi would prove himself until his next hurdle, and he'd just ask for another chance, which was then granted again. It was quite an annoying film, come to think of it, and everyone who was in the room with me while I was watching it knows just how angry I was with the poor scripting and soccer-goal-sized plot holes (sorry Todd). Anyway, Andrew Symonds was like Santiago. I'm so glad he's finally run out of chances, and Marcus Northumberland has been given a shot. This is a really long write-up on a guy that I know next to nothing about that somehow mentions a movie that I didn't like about a sport I don't know much about and a cricket player who wasn't picked for the Ashes tour. Gooooal!

Peter Siddle
I am going to give this guy the nickname 'Piddle.' Piddle looks like he's from the same block of granite that Andy Fucking Bichel was carved out of - not too flash, but with a heart so big his chest can barely cope with the load. Through sheer determination, Piddle will knock over a few Pommies, but won't get anywhere near Glenn McGrath status. He might go so far as to reach the lofty standards of Scott Muller though. If I was a fast bowler, I'd use this guy as inspiration to realise that skill has nothing to do with getting a baggy green and playing for Australia.

Shane Watson (subject to fitness)
The phrase "subject to fitness" is the clincher. He is not fit. The guy just isn't built for moving, which is a bad trait for someone who plays sport for a living to have. Snapped hamstrings, torn groin muscles, pectoral weakness, hairline fractures of his entire spine, shaving cuts, cuticles, this guy has it all. Why he's being picked for an Ashes tour is completely beyond me; I mean the guy can't even help out by carrying someone's kitbag or his arm would drop off. Maybe he's a good photographer and he can be the guy that everyone hands their cameras to while they pose with the guards at Buckingham Palace. Remember Watto - half press to focus, then full press to take the photo. And make sure everyone's in the shot (except for McDonald, the loser).

So what are our chances of retaining the Ashes? Pray for rain, lads. Pray for rain.