Monday, January 28, 2008

The winds of 'Change' are a blowin

Oh my whats that in the distance... no behind those trees. Is it, could it be... Change?

More to follow, and stuff.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008


So kids I find myself in a quandary, I have yet again run out of ideas for posts. Well I say I have run out, it’s not really as if I had a big folder full of brilliant and exciting ideas to flick through. I just write down an idea when I have one and then a few days later end up complaining and insulting a celebrity for 1000 words or so. But as I said I’m not sure what to do now because I’m drawing a blank on something to complain about. What to do kids, what to do. Well there is always the old faithful choice of making up some sort of crap story about something from my historically and geographically incorrect past. But I can’t be arsed, I can’t think of anyone to fight either, well I’m sure I could, I just don’t want to. But there is another option left, turn inwards. As much as you all enjoy reading me poorly worded rants, I’m sure you’re all clueless as to the real mental state of this little Pontiff… (Ok so that’s probably a clue I’m a little light on sanity). So here is the subject for this week’s entry I’m going to tell you all about why I do what I do here.

Kids… its anger, pure and simple. As I’ve said before I have a theory about anger. It is that people don’t operate at their best when they are happy or content, when they are sad they don’t even function. But an angry person, a person filled with rage is steadfast and intent to complete whatever goal has boiled their bile. An angry person will go far beyond the boundaries of their own sanity in order to fulfil their goal. Anger truly is the spice of life, that’s right kids variety can go suck an egg, anger is the shit that juices my turkey (analogies aren’t my strong point). There you have it, anger drives me to do this. Everything I see or read about that irks me in that special way, is what drives me to complain about anything and everything. Its cathartic kids, it really is, long after yelling ‘That’s not news’ or ‘JUICY DELICIOUS PORK!’ at the TV has lost its flair. Spreading your anger all over the internet to infect other people like some sort of emotional conjunctivitis (don’t touch your eyes kids), is the best way to drive out the anger. It’s a shame though it is because when I’m annoyed I’m at my most productive.

Moving on though, its time children to have a look at the type of things that make me angry, I’m going to warn you now kids some of these things may be a little surprising.

1. Alliteration.
Yeah I know kids it is so stupid, but it just annoys me to no extent when more than two words start with the same letter or sound in a sentence. It just sounds like some sad git children’s show host trying to get a 13 year old excited about the type of crap a 4 year old would yawn at. Don’t dare dilute daily language with dismal diggity….. Blaaaaaarrrgh DICK! It just annoys me, what is really annoying is that it is taught in schools as an essay tactic, something to help the information stick in the readers head, I don’t want big bouncing blue bubbly balls anywhere near my head.

2. Extreme Makeover
The despicable show, the horrible traumatic torture of a show. In fact any makeover show really gets on my nerves, the whole concept of them. Take on sad pathetic loser with friends, or people that claim to be friends and add talent less smarmy host to transform this ugly duckling into a stretched out stitched up slightly less ugly duckling. I really hate the ones where the friends dob in the victim.

Makeover Charlie: “Hey Rudy… you ready for your makeover”
Rudy: “Yeah I really am… wow thanks guys”
Makeover Charlie: “Yeah you really have great friends”
Rudy: “Yes I’m glad I surround myself with people that think I’m so hideous I need plastic surgery to become even slightly appealing”
Billy: “Don’t forget that fact that you are so clueless with women you need help from five gay men to some action”
Rudy: “Ha-ha yes I forgot about that, thanks for reminding me I’m a complete loser on national television”
Makeover Charlie: “International television Rudy… now let’s totally emasculate him”
Whole Crowd: “Yeah, ‘Gay Power Makeup Squad Force’ go!”

And then they go and take away everything that that person has built up there personal image to be for the past twenty years. In an exercise that could really be called ‘you suck as a human why not let a gay person improve you’. Now in case you’re dense I’m not saying homosexuality is bad, I just resent the thought that someone thinks they have better taste than me because of which hole on which human they copulate with.

3. ACA and Today Tonight…
No, actually its really any soft Current Affairs program, you don’t have to be Australian to get this one I’m guessing. I’m pretty sure these shows are every where, the type of shows that are designed for people to watch with their arms folded and their ‘that’s a bloody outrage’ face painted on. All sorts of stories about dole bludgers, parking inspectors, bad tenants/landlords, and just assorted scum of the earth, oh and don’t forget the occasional story about bras, because everyone loves boobs. Now it is not the content that pisses me off, it’s the way it’s presented. Hack journalist wanders up to house of resident scumbag builder/rip off merchant/whatever, and proceeds to put his foot in the door and ask, “When are you going to give …… their money back”. Scumbag runs or pushes camera man, cue evil music and assorted dodgy special effects. What a hero hack journalist is, sticking up for the little guy. It’s because he cares to, not because he knows this is going to rate well, he is a gentlemen. My favourite anger inducing story though is the parking inspector ones, they are pure furious gold.

Now parking inspectors may not be popular but just realise this, they are important, they provide important revenue to the local council, keeping rates lower. They make sure other people can get a park when they need to do some shopping or go to work. And they make it possible for delivery people to do there job by keeping loading zones clear. And they only punish those that do the wrong thing, simply obey the rules and no fines for you. Hack journalist however, seems to think otherwise. Parking inspectors aren’t actually just doing their job, their important job. They are being evil, serving the devil and their other dark lords. Little did you all know that in fact parking inspectors are the children of the devil, if you read Dante’s Inferno, you’ll see the 18th layer of hell is where they come from. They also eat puppies, and steal the newspapers from public libraries, the bastards.

4. Witty Banter
Ok another one to the list that may need a little more explanation. In my many experiences watching late night TV, I see many shows. E.T, Good Morning America, etc etc, all which contain that annoying small talk between the two hosts. I especially hate it between the dude on G.M.A and Diane Sawyer, or that other chick that isn’t Diane Sawyer. Cue story about someone being electrocuted,

Charlie Gibson: “Hmmm, tragedy… just like those Green Bay packers”
Diane Sawyer: “Oh yeah, but the coach of the Giants is a real bright spark”
Charlie Gibson: “Hahahahaha… oh Diane you are to much aren’t you”
Diane Sawyer: “Straight up biatch! that’s me just keeping it real, stay with us after the break will tell you why Rachel Ray is being immolated by David Blaine”
Charlie Gibson: “And I’ll be sacrificing a goat to my lord and master Lucifer”

Ok so it’s not that bad, well not yet. To me it just seems so hackneyed and pompous, almost as if its pre written. Imagine two hours of news about weather, finance, and politics hosted by your uncle that still thinks pull my finger is the height of comedy. And it’s just as bad in Australia as Mel and Kochie ham it up on channel seven, people I don’t want to see a guy that reminds me of that vulture Muppet before 9am, it’s just not cool.

5. The commentary on Iron Chef.
This is it kids this is the big one, if you want a show of a quite angry man trying not to punch his TV screen in then come to my house, and watch me watching the Japanese Iron Chef. It is not just the commentary though, it’s the whole show, the guests the commentary, the food, the chefs, it all adds up to one big annoyance. So why do I watch it, well kids as I said I love being angry, it gives me nourishment. Every single week Chairman Kaga raises up the theme ingredient, its whale or baby seal or something, and then the chefs proceed to cover it in caviar, sea urchin roe, foie gras, whilst the commentators say things like ‘how luxurious’, or ‘oh my’. I’m not lying once the chef made Sardine Ice Cream, now I don’t want to unfairly categorize an entire country, but those Japanese must be as freaking crazy as the French are cheese eating surrender monkeys. Not one of the tasters punched the chef for that little effort, not one. Watching last Saturday was particularly excruciating, as the tasters waxed lyrical for ten whole minutes about one dish. One comment was made that the dish would taste good even in a castle or a home. That really made me flip out, I tried for ten minutes to come up with a reason why the setting would make the food taste any different. For some reason all I could think of was Green Eggs and Ham.

And five is enough kids, because honestly it has taken quite some thought just to come up with those. So what have we learnt kids, well hopefully nothing that can’t be forgotten quickly. And if not then I’m sorry, I just hope you can remember where your keys are over the fact I hate Charlie Gibson. Well kids play nice and keep searching for that rainbow, there is gold somewhere.

Pope Terry aiming just beyond mediocrity

If you don’t visit, Diane Sawyer will get you in your sleep.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Whats wrong with the world today: Pop and Prophecy

Nostradamus was a ginger?

Well kids its good to be back again after my semi regular jaunt off into the ether… I have no idea what that means. Oh well its nothing to fret about because I am back with a brand new post in the Diary. Now kids it is coming up on my big two year anniversary, no not marriage or anything else really worthwhile. Its two years since on a whim I started this little whinge fest I laughingly call a blog. And it’s about one year since people started actually reading it, which still surprises me to no end. In my numerous posts most of which somehow involve Britney Spears or Paris Hilton, I have done many things… well I have complained, and claimed I’m stronger than a lot of people, so a lot is really just two things. Again I have no idea what I’m talking about, which also seems to be a common point to this blog. Any way it’s coming up on two years, and I’d like to do something… well, different. I have no idea what, maybe post an entry not filled with a tonne of spelling and grammatical errors. But apart from that, just something different. Ideas, concepts, rough sketches welcome.

And now onto the matter at hand, whilst pondering the many wonders of the universe the other day, an idea hit me. A brilliant idea that will turn much of the music you listen to today on its head. A concept that will turn pop music into a science, and not just any science, but a fancy one with its own smart guy in a wheelchair, and maybe its own Nobel prize. Here is the theory, pop music isn’t just an annoying mix of ring tone music and gyrating teenage girls, it’s in fact the most accurate way of telling the future since Alexander Graham Bell invented Tarot Cards, in 1875. It is in fact a portal, a window if you will into the future so scarily accurate that small children and forest creatures may want to look away for fear of its gravitational pull (I love science). What gave me this profound example of the pop-future theory; it was indeed Michael Jackson’s ‘Black or White’. And I can hear you groan already dear children, but bear with me; it should be enlightening, if not incredibly stupid. In 1991, Michael released his ‘Dangerous’ album, which in itself should have started ringing some bells with people right there. Apart from the notable and prophetic album title let’s keep going as I have a better joke in poor taste to use.

One song off the album was the massive hit, as much for its wiz-bang video as anything else, ‘Black or White’. Now the song at that point was to become some sort of anthem for racial peace and respect of each others differences whilst embracing each others similarities. On a side note Michael at this stage still looked respectable, not like some sort of badly erected tent. If he had of stopped there, we may not have the current image of him that we do, both physically and mentally. But like many pop stars Michael had the gift, the gift of prophecy. A gift, or a curse to put his own future into music. And like Nostradamus singing karaoke, everything he said was guaranteed to come true. No matter whether Michael was black or white, he was always going to be dangerous. Yes no matter what color or face his daily appearance had, Michael is synonymous with giving children ‘special’ hugs, a sad ending for the king of pop. It doesn’t matter if your black or white… because your still a freak.


We must move on kids to the next case of prophecy in pop, one I’m sure you could all work out for yourselves. I’ll say the name and you already know the song I’m talking about. But let’s do it any way kids, I’ll try not to telegraph the jokes to much. Britney ‘White Trash’ Spears. Whoa kids settle down, you are moving ahead on your own there aren’t you. Now unless you were born after 2001, and if you were what the hell are you doing reading this, where are your parents, and how drunk are they? So unless you sprang forth from your mothers loins post millennium, you’d have no doubt heard the woeful first single from Ms Methamphetamine herself, ‘Oops I did it again’. Again it’s popularity was helped by the film clip, a fairly attractive seventeen year old girl in a school girl costume that would make a stripper shout ‘whore’, is always going to attract a lot of attention. And it did, it did indeed launching the little tarts pre-made, product placement career with a bang.

Well, I'm sure there is something witty I could say... but do I really need to?

I’m guessing though, little did she know at the time how that song she was handed and then wailed into a microphone, then had cleaned up on the computer, was so ironically titled. So much so it would be the anthem for numerous entertainment shows and reports on the news. The only way it could be more convenient was if she planned to have several mental breakdowns, a few bad marriages, and some really bad haircuts before she was twenty eight. Oops she did it again, is fast becoming the catch cry for the new millennium, and aren’t we all happy about that. Another perfect example of pop music acting as prophecy, lets look at some of the current songs, does Justin Timberlake sing a song about dying in a house fire.

And on that rather vicious and slightly distasteful note that’s you lot for this time. Even though it was a joke by Brent D of the Ominous Comma, well I hope it was, I have fulfilled the request and have slotted some Juicy Delicious Pork t shirts and an apron into a Café Press store, you can find the link on the right side of the page, under the ingeniously titled ‘Buy SHIT!!!’ section, if you fell so inclined. I pity those that do, but there is some other crap there as well. Keep reaching for the stars and remember always to floss.

Pope Terry aiming just beyond mediocrity

Nostradamus’s prophecies abound at

Thursday, January 10, 2008

As seen on TV: Whats new in Sunpig

Well kids welcome to another slab of stupidity, after last weeks overly long drawn out escapade it’s a little surprising to see you all back and asking for more intellectual punishment. This week we return to an old favourite, one not touched on for a while, well not in the traditional sense. But first let’s take a look at the recent events that had me smiling, both with happiness and evil intent. Firstly after last weeks little complaint about no new Letterman on the tube, the very night I posted that whinge, I was slapped in the face with the bearded mug of Dave and the entire late show family. New and in glorious colour. It seems after some tough negotiations the writers of the late show were allowed to return to work, to grace me, and I guess the rest of the viewing world with brand new comedy and interviews, as well as Dave’s traditional post Christmas beard. And now to the other news that had me laughing rolling about the floor with such tremendous laughter I feel inclined to make up a new acronym for special use on the internet. LASISBSVHTIMHPMP*… it’s quite long but I’m sure it will catch on soon. Of course you know I have no heart, now empathy or anything else normal puny humans are burdened with, so I’m in fact laughing at the latest escapades of Ms Spears. Yes this time she has been taken to hospital and put under watch for fear of her life, and that she might take it. After a stand off with police (was she armed or what, I know if I was a cop I definitely would have maced the cow), she was bundled into the back of an ambulance and shipped of to a hospital. Now having lost a friend to suicide I can say I truly hope her friends and family don’t have to go through that, but I cant help but think its just the latest line in the string of incidents she or people around her have arranged to keep her in the spotlight. If so it’s a truly despicable act.

But onto the point at hand, this week we return the familiar filing cabinet of As Seen on TV, hurl it open and breathe in the mouldy dusty goodness. While I hope that we all don’t get some sort of weird respiratory disease from this (I’m quite sure metaphor isn’t contagious), we can all together bask in the glow of this truly stupendous example of TV advertising. Today we look at two different adverts but both are in the same vein. They both consist of those really annoying adverts masquerading as public service announcements. Thinly hidden under the sheet of the mother company they belong to. Both are hosted by the lovely/sexy/buxom/horrid (I can’t decide kids), Ros Switzer. Now lovely Ros is a champ at spruiking the most useless crap imaginable. Australian’s will no doubt remember her from late nights on TVSN, and I’m fairly sure she was on GMA with Burt. But for all you foreigners just imagine those comely lasses you see on advertorials selling cleaning products. That type of women that late at night start to look quite appealing. Then invade your dreams that night and then end up being some sort of sexual deviant, so much so that upon telling you friends you had a dream about “……..” and she did “…….” to you, gets the dirtiest looks you could ever imagine. Well that’s the men, ladies… I don’t know, I guess just turn on the TV late at night you’ll get the picture. But that’s enough waffle about Ros, she really is nice. On to the products.

Firstly we have some new sunscreen, UV Colortech, or some other wordy concoction designed to ward off the harsh Australian sun… yeah that’s rights kids we claimed it as our own, and it’s about time you started paying for using it. Ros stands there gripping some poor little buggers arm; it could be her child or just one she picked up from a supermarket a few hours before. Either the little tacker has been out in the sun or he has had some makeup magic applied to have him look he’s gotten burnt in the sun. Ros chimes in “Ever missed a spot Libby”, Libby Lenton Australian super fish and all around good swimmer, she has medals to prove it, answers “Yep”. So now we have the premise, sunscreen is hard to apply especially for swimmers and small children because they share the same I.Q. Libby continues “But now it’s easy with this sunscreen, it goes on colored, and then rubs in clear so you know if you have missed a spot”. Now I’ll pause here in case your swimmers and your tiny brains need to catch up………………… RUBS IN CLEAR!!!, how in the name of tap dancing Christ can you tell if you missed a spot if it rubs in clear. And it’s also non greasy, so that’s another way you can’t tell where this magic clear goo is on your body. Unless the key to this product is to undress your kid spray the little bugger’s entire body then proceed to buff them clear. I don’t see how having something being purple allows it to be void of the problem of missing a spot. Now Australian sunscreen, it comes in either white or a similar color, sometimes a little beige. Not the magic invisible liquid Ros and Libby imagine it to be. You see because all sunscreen is a different color to when it is rubbed in, just in case any of you are swimmers and are a little slow… and if anyone point out the white is a shade I will go spaco.

Now onto the next product, again we have the lovely Ros walking around, she has legs isn’t she talented, waxing lyrical about delicious stir fries. But Ros being the women she is wants some variety, and in a performance full of metaphor, really she wants her husband to let have a lesbian affair, she says she is sick of chicken. And since that is the only meat you can have with a stir fry… wait what Ros what’s that… JUICY DELICIOUS PORK. Oh my god I never realised juicy delicious pork was an option for stir fries until you pointed it out to me Ros, thank god you went to the TV stations bought some advertising time and told me about juicy delicious pork. But what dear Ros is there to have with juicy delicious pork, why its erh… some product about stir fries who cares. Yes juicy delicious pork, the catch phrase of the century, give me a little while and I’ll set up a café press shop so you can buy a t-shirt with that slogan on it. It’s just the way she keeps saying juicy delicious pork, as if someone’s going to walk into there butcher and

Customer: “Hello, I’m making stir fry, and I’d love some meat”
Butcher: “How about chicken then?”
Customer: “Now I did that last week and my wife ran from the room crying about how she loved Doris from the dry cleaner”
Butcher: “Really… my Agnes did that as well… crazy bitches hey”
Customer: “Hahahahaha, crazy arse bitches…”
Butcher: “Well how about some pork”
Customer: “My god do you think that would keep my wife from munching rug”
Butcher: “Yeah sure why not, what cut do you want”
Customer: “Hmmm, why don’t you give me the driest, mankiest cut you can find, try dragging it through the dirt first as well”
Butcher: “Well the usual aside why don’t you try… JUICY DELICIOUS PORK”
Cue angels and heavenly music.
Customer: “I’m so happy… I think I’m going to cry”

It’s just so redundant, of course people are always going to go for the best cut of meat they can Ros, it’s just implied, no one specifies that they want dry un-tasty meats. And that’s it for now, your fill of both Ros and the diary for another little bit, apparently I joined Blogspot in February 2006, so it is coming up on two years since I started blogging. If anyone has any ideas how I can celebrate this little milestone comment me and I'll try to come up with something semi special. Well that’s it for now but I’ll see you later.

Pope Terry aiming just beyond mediocrity.

*LASISBSVHTIMHPMP- Laughing At Someone I Probably Shouldn’t So Very Hard That I Might Have Pissed My Pants

The juiciest of meat is at

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Wrap it UP! 2007

This picture has nothing to do with this post... I just needed an anchor

So kids I see you’re back again, ready and willing for more mind numbing wit and pathos. You poor silly people, you have nothing better to do, do you. It’s a shame isn’t it, oh well while you’re here you might as well partake in this entry into the Diary. What profound idiocy have I dredged up this week, well after last weeks entry it couldn’t be that bad could it. A few weeks ago I did the obligatory Christmas post, and you all loved it, if you didn’t keep your filthy opinions to your self. So this week, following on in the vain of super originality, I’m going to do the big yearly wrap and bundle the entire year of 2007 into one easy to digest pill. One tiny little bud of goodness for you to wash down with a glass of whatever you want to drink. So now kids I have to use my memory to try and remember the truly monumental moments of the year that was, some of you may want to turn away now as I can guarantee that this is going to be a compilation of the most pointless stupid information to date. Those that choose to stay; well you may need to get yourself a stiff drink. And while your there pour on for me as well. How is this going to work, I guess like all those clip shows that populate the airwaves I guess I’ll slot everything into a handy little category for easier reading, lets start with the fluff shall we the crap nobody cares about.

Politics, stop groaning kids you all know by now you should be reading the paper every morning and learning that the world sucks and is run by rich people. If you don’t then well… ah hell who am I kidding that’s all you need to know really isn’t it. Firstly the local front, the Australian Federal Election held the forefront in our political minds this year. The previous Howard regime was finally ousted in a spectacular ‘Rudd Slide’ (as channel 7 put it), by Kevin ‘07’ Rudd and his Labor Party leftist Commie Pinkos. In the end it turned out to be a bit of a one sided affair, with even Prime Minister Howard, losing his seat to his electorate rival. It’s amazing how a leader that has led us to low unemployment and a strong economy can lose to a guy that once went to a strip club and can’t remember it at all, Kevin it was the time when all the girlies had their baps out. If he can’t remember that then I’m not sure he should be running the country. The loss was a tragedy I know, how a country can move into the future without a 70 odd year old man stuck in firmly in his 1950’s shorts running it. And now Kevin gets his wish as the entire country is one giant Labor Party, so when the country goes down the gurgler we definitely know who to blame. Hooray isn’t that something to cheer about… lets move on shall we. Over seas, America, ah land of the free, in case you didn’t know there is an election coming up next year for you lot.

Mainly we are hearing about the battle between Barrack Bin Osamalamadong, Hilary ‘Deez Nuts’ Clinton, and John ‘I can see your dead person’ Edwards. Kucinich might be having a red hot go as well, but let’s face it its not as red hot as his wife. Apart from that you had that malarkey with that senator trying to appropriate some young mans bodily fluids from an airport toilet stall. I’d make a joke about him chasing the pink vote, but I doubt if that was the pink thing he really wanted to grab. The rest of the world still waits for Jean Claude to bone up and take on Arnie in a Gubernatorial showdown to commence the apocalypse, Van Damme vs. Schwarzenegger, don’t tell me you cant see it people. But we all know that race we depend on whomever Steven Segal supports. Speaking of support coming from uneducated celebrities, Oprah is really the one who will decide the presidential election. It’s like Benjamin Franklin said, control the housewives of America and you control the world. Fact check that at your own peril kids. And onto England, good old Blighty… something about Gordon Brown… I’m not really sure, he might be leader but what kind of country would have a leader called Gordon. It’s just a giant green train wreck waiting to happen. And on the horizon for the next year, it looks like Dubya may take it on himself to start one last world conflict before he leaves office, the least he could do is attack somewhere like Poland or New Zealand, but no… let’s have a stab at another country run by a psycho. North Korea. I cant remember the meeting of the U.N where the power to police the world was handed over to the American government, so I cant see why Dubya seems to think its necessary to assert power over the rogue states of the world. Yes it would be nice if everyone could get along, and I can see he is trying to accomplish that, but it would be nice to see it done with a little tact not carpet bombing. But I must say it’s always nice to threaten a country that supposedly has Nuclear Weapons; it’s been such along time since I practised my ‘Duck and Cover’.

Now sport, well lets face Australia won everything as usual… what… baseball, never heard of it. You yanks and your crazy sports. Ok so let’s stop pretending, it’s hard for me to care about any sport apart from cricket and formula one. Now cricket, as is per normal we crapped it in, without any effort whatsoever we won the world cup. And in true Australian fashion I’m now going to brag about it, as if I a slovenly fan had something to do with it. WE WON, WE WON, NAH NAH NAH, WE WON. But the 2007 world cup didn’t pass without a hitch, we witnessed the untimely murder/accidental death/back to murder/and now finally back to accidental death of Pakistani coach Bob Woolmer. Yes it seems finally he just died, no foul play, no elaborate set up, he just unfortunately passed away. While it detracted from the play on the field it sadly was nothing compared to the fiasco that was the final. The match started late, and was poorly managed. When it finally finished after play was stopped due to bad light being called, and then both teams returning to the field to finish the game in even worse light. But finally Australia had won, re-cementing our place at the top of world cricket.

Enough sport, its tiring just talking about it, lets move onto the real meat and potatoes of international affairs, ENTERTAINMENT. Ha yes kids the truly important things of the year all happened in this truly whorish field of the news. Firstly the incarceration of one of the true humanitarians of our age, or any other in fact. The women that shows us being a dumb white rich skank is truly one of the most lucrative career moves a young lady today could make. Ms Paris Hilton, yes after several DUI’s or something similar to those three letters, she was slapped in the cuffs and frog marched off to the slammer for a really hard couple of hours behind some grey bars. The world watched in horror/delight depending on your preference I guess, as she cried her little eyes out at the fact she was receiving the same treatment everyone else was, who did that judge think he was? Then much to no ones surprise, she was released early, were she had time to go home and re acclimatise her self to the outside. When to everyone’s surprise, the judge sent her packing back to do the rest of her hefty sentence of 5 days or so. Golf clap for the judge, someone has to show the rich white heiress’s that the world isn’t their playground… I’m sure she has learnt her lesson. What followed was one of the most harrowing recounts in an interview I have ever seen, no it wasn’t Larry King, this was Letterman. Dave sat and smiled and probed every nook and cranny of Ms Hilton while she sat and cockeyedly stone walled his every question with an “I don’t want to talk about it”. Dave laughed his way threw one of the most uncomfortable interviews I have ever witnessed, only coming out the other side with a visual gag where he drank a bottle of Paris’s distilled spunk in a bottle, often known as perfume. But let’s move on.

Not to far though we still have to gander at the rest of the Hollywood D list that are due to or have spent some time in the big house, from some careless drinking habits. Paris’ little pal from TV Nicole Ritchie spent some period of hours, every ones favourite gung-ho rogue agent Jack Bauer is actually going to spend more than a month for his drinking expeditions. Ms Lohan the incomparable coke fiend of the 21st century, has well and truly shaken off the shackles of being a former child star, and now graduated to a fully functioning addict, that just happened to be an actress at some stage when she was a kid. She also enjoyed quite a few stays at many different ‘recovery’ centres, after attempting to chase down a friend whilst driving with no pants on. And now Britney… oh yes kids I have to go there, pure white trash incarnate cannot be left alone, as much as I hate lowering myself to talk about her, we have to. It will be cathartic, we will all feel better about how truly sucky her life is going. So she lost her kids, her license, her underwear, and her mind. Unfortunately though she still has her money, meaning she can do it all again this year. So that’s something to definitely look forward to. Speaking of brain dead talent less hacks, 2007 was also the year we were blessed with the footage of David Hasselhoff, beaned out of his gourd attempting to eat a Big Mac off his bathroom floor. While for some reason his daughter filmed him, now kids I’m not one to brag about being classy and above this type of behaviour. But if I’m eating food in a bathroom half naked while completely drunk, I’m going to make sure there isn’t a camera watching me.

How to approach this next event… hmmm its going to be hard without being insulting, oh well screw it, tact is for pussies. Mel Gibson’s xenophobic outburst to a lady cop on a Los Angeles highway. Australia’s least favourite export shocked the world, well the half that didn’t know he was the son of a Racist Xenophobic holocaust denier, when he berated a police officer after a routine traffic stop found him to be drunk. So nice work Mel, that’s really showing how tolerant we Aussies can be, I can’t remember him giving an apology to Jews of the world, so maybe that didn’t happen. Either way I’m sure it didn’t hurt the box office takings of his movies. One bright moment from this though was Rob Schneider proving he is a comic genius, when he came out and said that he would never ever work with Mel… as if he was ever going to in the first place, ‘The Passion of Deuce Bigilow’ anyone?

Dont tell me its not the obvious sequel

And then the tragedy of the year, the event that had the producers of Entertainment Tonight crying with joy, because for the rest of the year they wouldn’t have to think of a single story. Anna Nicole Smith dying. Yes after they had followed her around like a horny puppy after the death of her son, they really got the perfect follow up when she passed away in the Bahamas. And then the trial, over what I can’t remember all I can remember was E.T dragging out miles of video footage of this coked out floozy, whilst Mary Hart sat there and tried to give Anna the dignity and public image of Princess Diana. And then the custody battle over that poor daughter of hers who is no doubt going to follow almost exactly the same path as her mother. I have no sympathy for anyone involved in the tepid shitty mess of a family, apart from that poor little girl who is going to have her life dragged through shit just for the sake of some ratings.

And finally something recent, the writers strike, those dam creative little bastards that come up with the few original ideas that make it to TV. They decided, ‘we want what we deserve’, how dare they? And so on strike they went and have been for quite some time, as I have noticed since I have been playing a game involving the ever changing state of Letterman’s hair and glasses, in the repeats Channel ten are showing in place of new episodes. It also bought about some interesting responses from the networks; well it did here in Australia at least. Instead of just saying, there is a writers strike and there aren’t anymore episodes, everything just became the ‘season finale’, whether it made sense or not. Why lie, we have the internet, we all noticed that there where about eight episodes of the show, why lie. But it also means we get more crappy reality TV and sitcoms, something I cant seem to be able to resist because well, I love being angry, it makes me function on a whole new level. Happiness is great, but we all know by now that angry people are far more dynamic and productive, the have an aim, a goal, something to shoot for, or at depending on the level of rage it induces.

So that was the year, and what a year it was, a lot of other crap happened, there was probably a war or two I skipped over but well they are just depressing aren’t they. Personally I would like to thank everyone that has come along to my little corner of the internet over the past year, you have made it all worth while, and your comments are what keep me doing this. So if you want me to stop I guess just ignore me. Any way I’m looking forward to trying to make you laugh and think for another year, thank you and keep aiming beyond mediocrity.

Pope Terry.

People say I smell like