Stupiderlikeafox

Boy, it’s dry here. You don’t realise just how so until flying over country Victoria after a month driving through the billiard felt fields of Ireland. The paddocks are brown - a really dead-looking kind of brown - and what looked like low-lying cloud turned out to be smoke billowing from bushfires. Then there was the shock of walking back into my courtyard to find every single plant - right down to the cacti - wilted and dead from the four weeks away. Mental note to buy plants that are self-sufficient.

I am not the best gardener when the going is good, so the way things are i feel quite comforted in being able to blame the weather for their demise.

While our headache is water, in the UK it’s all about CO2 emissions and global warming. The UK is getting a mild winter by their standards. It is wet, but it got up to 12 degrees in Belfast just after Xmas Day, which for winter is a heatwave. The city was full of people shopping the Christmas sales in T-shirts. Europe is also bracing for it’s hottest year on record. People die over there when the mercury hits 25, so forecasts of a warm summer spark more of a national health warning than a rush on bikinis and 30+ cream.

The shape of things to come for us? Talk at the local pub in the UK and Ireland is as likely to be about C02 emissions out of the local airlines as Wayne Rooney’s form slump. Carbon trading is the new shares market. We have all this to look forward to, but if it stays as dry as it is we will be discussing the size of our water footprint.

It’s the biggest cricket series in recent history, but in the UK you wouldn’t know it. Over here on hols and poring over the papers to delight in the misery of the English cricket team….but no mention on the back pages. Nor on the inside back pages. No, it seems that the Poms are coping with the ability, or lack thereof, of their cricket team by completely ignoring them. You have to wade past stories about the Premiership and what Jose Mourinho is mouthing off about, negotiate your way through a few pages of the Championship - or second division - then flip through a couple of more pages of the Doc Marten League to find a few pars on the Ashes. Shane Warne is all they are talking about. The same people who splashed Warney on the front pages for letting his fingers do the walking are now proclaiming him the greatest cricketer there ever was…well, they have to cheer somebody. They must be hurting a great deal if that person is an Aussie.

Lleyton Hewitt won no friends when he called the Aussie public stupid, but I reckon he had a point - at least for the TV watchers among us. No wonder it’s called the idiot box. Our watching habits leave me dumbfounded. Australian Idol rates like nobody else’s business. Apparently we can’t get enough of Australia’s Funniest Home Videos (for sake of accuracy, rename the damn thing America’s Boring, Staged Re-Run Home Beta Tapes won’t you?). The fact our viewing habits have the people at A Current Affair and Today Tonight dishing up what they do closes the argument. 

Decent shows (ie well scripted, acted and shot) can’t get an audience. The Sopranos has been pushed to 5 past midnight because nobody watches it. Boston Legal likewise. Tripping Over was a good show but couldn’t break the Top 50 programs in Oz last week.

Come on people, work with me here….why is this so?

“Donuts … is there anything they can’t do?” 

“Can’t talk … eating.”

“I’m not a praying man, but if you’re up there, save me Superman!”

“Marge, the reason we have elected officials is so we don’t have to think!”

“Marge, send the kids to the neighbors, I’m going to Moe’s and coming back loaded.”

“Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddys, and kids with fake IDs.”

“Marge, it takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.”

“Professional athletes, always wantin’ more.”

“Oh, this time I have gone too far. No, no one will fall for… Woo hoo! Cheap meat! … Oooh, this one’s open.”

“Stomach — churning!
Bowels — clenching!
Not much time … must … finish …”

“Oh, rancid meat attack! Stupid parasites.”
 
“I’ve learned that life is one crushing defeat after another until you just wish Flanders was dead!” 

“When you’re an experienced woodsman, you get a feel for these things.
It’s like a third sense.”

“You couldn’t fool your mother on the foolingest day of your life if you had an electrified fooling machine.”

“Marge, don’t discourage the boy! Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It’s what separates us from the animals! Except the weasel.”

“If you really want something in life you have to work for it. Now quiet, they’re about to announce the lottery numbers.”

“To alcohol! The cause of - and solution to - all of life’s problems!”

“I saw this in a movie about a bus that had to speed around a city, keeping its speed over 50, and if its speed changed, it would explode! I think it was called, ‘The Bus That Couldn’t Slow Down.’”
 
“I want to share something with you - the three sentences that will get you through life. Number one,’cover for me.’ Number two, ‘oh, good idea, boss.’ Number three, ‘it was like that when I got here.’” 

“Marge, you’re as pretty as Princess Leia and as smart as Yoda.”

“Step aside everyone! Sensitive love letters are my specialty. ‘Dear Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: you.’”

“Marge, I agree with you — in theory. In theory, communism works. In theory.”

“Now I’ve had my head in an elephant, a hippo, and a giant sloth.”

“Asleep at the switch”? I wasn’t asleep, I was drunk!”

“Tell him I’m going to the back seat of my car with the woman I love, and I won’t be back for ten minutes!”

“Come on, pal! Fugu me!”
“Are we there yet? I’m thirsty.”

“Anyway, once upon a time, there was a big mean lion who got a thorn in his paw. All the village people tried to pull it out, but nobody was strong enough! So, they got Hercules. And Hercules used his mighty strength, and Bingo! Anyway, the moral is, the lion was so happy, he gave Hercules this big … thing … of riches.”

“When will I learn? The answers to life’s problems aren’t at the bottom of a bottle. They’re on TV!”

“Here are your messages: ‘You have 30 minutes to move your car’, ‘You have 10 minutes’, ‘Your car has been impounded’, ‘Your car has been crushed into a cube’, ‘You have 30 minutes to move your cube’”.
 
“Don’t let Krusty’s death get you down, boy. People die all the time. Just like that. Why, you could wake up dead tomorrow. Well, good night.” 

“Son, when you participate in sporting events, it’s not whether you win or lose: it’s how drunk you get.”

“Lisa, if the Bible has taught us nothing else - and it hasn’t - it’s that girls should stick to girls’ sports, such as hot oil wrestling and foxy boxing and such and such.”

“Lisa, if you don’t like your job you don’t strike. You just go in every day and do it really half-assed. That’s the American way.”

“Stealing! How could you? Haven’t you learned anything from that guy who gives those sermons at church? Captain whats-his-name?

“We live in a society of laws. Why do you think I took you to all those Police Academy movies? For fun? Well I didn’t hear anybody laughin’, did you?”

“Television - teacher, mother, secret lover!”
“Maybe, just once, someone will call me ’sir’ without adding, ‘you’re making a scene.’”
 
 
Shelbyville Man
“Bust in here and take it? You must be stupider than you look.”
Homer
“Stupider like a fox!”

Firstly, Stupiderlikeafox admits to being a foreigner in Melbourne.

That’s why i am excited that West Coast is going to win the flag in ‘06. Here’s why.

We are the best.

Here’s also why - it’s in the numbers. West Coast last won in ‘92 and ‘94. So, add 12, and you get ‘06. Now, 12 is the number worn by Mitch Morton. Morton was recruited from Claremont. Stick with me. Claremont plays in the WAFL, as does South Fremantle. South Fremantle is where John Worsfold was recruited from. Worsfold was captain when West Coast won the flags in ‘92 and ‘94. He is now the coach. Obvious, hey? Well, it is to DangerMouse, and he is sure it will confuse Collingwood fans, and that’s more than half the fun.

Just change 92 with 06

Punters…..unite. Let’s compile the best/worst list of laneway bars in Melbourne.

Stick up a `gold’ and a `cold’ of your choosing, and us Nookies get the most definitive, up-to-date list of where to hide out in the city. It will sure beat those cigarette-packet cards and anything Tourism Vic throws up.

I’ll kick it off, shall I?

Double Happiness: In rare, quiet moments.

Gold: Double Happiness. Directions. Not far from Parliament House, it’s in a laneway between Little Bourke and Bourke St. For those who don’t know, and to keep the flanelette crowd away, I’ll offer up a clue on the lane’s name: think Harry Kewell/Craig Johnston. Righto, this place dishes up the best cocktails around. Staff seem so relaxed and blend in with us the punters. You can’t tell they are staff until they ask if your drink is empty and swipe the glass. The espresso martini ($15) packs a punch to warm up the cockles and the heavy spirit content gets soaked into a couple of chocolate-covered coffee beans sunk to the bottom of the glass. Or try the Imperialist Running Dog, complete with its own chopstick. This place is squeezy, hence the heavy atmosphere - it’s like drinking with a bunch of close, close friends. Often is the case that you get to bump bum cheeks with strangers. The communist China posters make you feel like rising up against, well, anything, while the little wooden stools evoke fanciful thoughts of sipping on Tsingtao in Shanghai. Great place to wow the interstaters - just bring a few bucks for the first round, or better still, get them to buy seeing how they are sleeping on your couch for nicks.

The Croft: Not Stupiderlikeafox’s favourite.

Cold: The Croft Institute. This place is in Croft Alley. First time I went there was straight after Double Happiness, so I got to compare the cocktails. Like wine to water. The place was also a bit dead, and I was all prepared to be blow away by the edgy interior. Blast. It just didn’t work for me - neither did the attitude of the staff. Still, willing to be corrected by others who know better.