The Greatest Show on Earth

Well once again it has been run and won. With competitors from all over the globe, all at the height of their powers, pitted against each other in a fierce competition for the crown. Yes the Miss Universe 2006 is all over.

Hosted by a very white, perfect, toothed blonde American lass (what else?), and a kid in a candy store co-host named, I kid you not, Carlos Ponce, this annual must see TV event was everything I could have hoped for short of an Aussie victory.

Miss Puerto Rico was the winner. Congratulations to Zuleyka Rivera. Good luck on your countries version of Dancing With the Stars in 2008. Similar to handing out awards to brothels, I am not entirely sure how they actually judge this award. I know there is a swim suit section. Oh, yes the beloved swim suit section. Because, lets face it, if Aliens came from another Universe to visit ours, I bet they would want to meet our Universal Representative, and damn straight they would say, "and she better be wearing a bikini or we are zapping your sorry asses with our space ray guns!"

Aside from that, there is the Miss Congeniality, the Miss Photogenic, and the National Costume awards. I can't help but read that list of awards and think top myself - are they fucking serious?

To me it is a bit like a female equivalent to a bodybuilding competition (ignoring that there is actually female bodybuilding competitions - but come on, we all know the term "female bodybuilder" is an oxymoron). In a bodybuilding competition there are a bunch of generically muscled men on stage sterioded up to the eye balls all to me looking like huge, pumped, unnatural freaks. In the MUniverse, there is a heap of gorgeous women on stage all looking like huge, pumped unnatural freaks. The difference is the pumped on the women is a good thing.

Disappointingly our Aussie entrant Erin McNaught dipped out in the first round. So no Myers ads, DWTS, etc for her. Back to Zoo Weekly with your top off where you belong Erin! Actually thats a bit harsh. I may be biased but I thought she was as congenial, photogenic, and looked as good in a swim suit as the rest of them. And I looked pretty fucking closely.

for more info and photos, you can check it out for yourself at:

http://www.missuniverse.com/

Cheers

Cracker

Advertising the Mid Year Sale

Just a quick one. I read a full page ad in the paper Myer are having a "Never to be repeated" Clearance sale. If any person read that ad and actually thought to themselves - "Myer is having a clearance sale that will never be repeated! I better get down there quick". They should be taken out and shot. Maybe they are running the ad tongue in cheek? Maybe I have too much time on my hands? Maybe they never will have another Mid year clearance sale and this is the end of sales as we know it? Only time will tell. Life is so fucking exciting i think I might wet myself.

Cracker

Viva the Frogs

I read in the paper today that the French are actually launching a legal challenge to the validity of the World Cup Final result on the grounds that the referee used video footage to make the decision to send Zidane off. This is very much against FIFA rules. It will be interesting to see how far this gets. From what I have read about FIFA, they could save themselves the trouble of going to court and just offer FIFA some bribes directly. Then, amazingly, FIFA's internal investigation will reveal that the ref did use video evidence and the game would be replayed. The problem with this is that when it comes to bribery in Soccer, the Italians are the masters and no doubt would make a few well placed payments of their own to ensure the result turns out to be the same.

Speaking of Zidane and his famous send off here is a corker of a link. Like myself, there obviously some people out there with way too much time on their hands.

http://www.theage.com.au/news/web/headbutt-heaven/2006/07/14/1152637849725.html


Between the soccer court action, the no muslim headscarf rule they have at their schools, and the term "menage a trois"I am really beginning to warm to the French.

Cheers

Cracker

World Cup Exposes Disgusting "Aussies"

The World Cup is over. Those cheating, diving, drama queen Italians won. That, in itself doesn’t actually bother me as much as the sight of all the third generation Italians in Lygon St screaming “Italia, Italia” at the top of their voices with the level of excitement that should be reserved for special occasions such as say, Eva Longoria turning up at your house wanting the shagging of a life time, and willing to give you as many chances as you require in order to get it right.

Right, you un-patriotic, traitorous wankers, here are the rules for supporting any country other than Australia, and the appropriate level of celebration.

If you were actually born in that country, you are welcome to cheer them on in any manner you deem fit, and are also allowed to celebrate with the previously mentioned Eva Longoria type of enthusiasm. Unless you are playing Australia, in which case, as you fucking well live here you better fucking well support our fucking country you ungrateful cunts.

If your heritage is that of another country (i.e. your parents, or grandparents were born there), you are also allowed to support this country in any event as long as you are not playing Australia. Again, if your other country is playing Australia, you fucking well better support fucking Australia. I mean, you were fucking born, raised, educated etc here you stupid fucking twits. That does make you an Australian. Further to this, any celebrations should your second team (i.e. not Australia) win, should be restrained to at most, a little bit of drunkenness and some polite cheering. Especially when your second team knocked out your first team by cheating through a soft cock dive to get a penalty.

If you feel you can’t comply with these rules, then seriously, what the fuck are you doing living here? You obviously see our country as second rate, so how about you fuck off to where you think the beter country is. Let me make this crystal fucking clear, I have no issue what so ever of people wanting to come to Australia to make a better life. However, a little bit of gratitude to the country providing this better life through supporting our sporting teams wouldn’t go astray. I mean really, is it that fucking hard?

And just in case you think I don’t know what the fuck I am talking about (what would ever give you that idea?), I am a third generation Pom. My second team is England. However, whenever Australia plays England in ANYTHING, I am hoping to hell we kick the shit out of them. And if England won the World Cup, I doubt my jubilation would extend much beyond a “well isn’t that nice”. I certainly wouldn’t be running in public around in the white and red singing God Save the Fucking Queen. Seriously, those tools chanting “Italia” over and over who have been born and bred here should be fucking ashamed of themselves.

Responsible Parenting

A few years ago I read an article in the paper about a fine dining restaurant that had banned small children from their premises. At the time I thought it was a bit harsh. However, with the benefit of experience, I now agree entirely with their position.

This past weekend I went out for dinner to a fine restaurant. I was wearing a suit both as sign of respect to the birthday girl (my mother in law), and as a nod to the establishment. We took my son who is about 21 months old. After a short while he was restless and bored and let us know by his ear splitting crying. At this point I made the executive decision to take him for a walk. Several doors down there was a book shop that opened late. In the children’s section they had a Thomas the Tank engine train set.

For the next hour and a half I sat on a small child’s stool, in the children’s section, in my suit, reading a book about amazing facts on the brain, whilst my son merrily played on the train set. The only reprieve I had was to duck back to the restaurant to wolf down my meal. In order to facilitate my meal eating I brought my son back to the restaurant where the little bugger cried the whole time.

Now, the conundrum is this. You don’t want to give in to every cry a child makes because you end up spoiling them and never teaching them about limits blah blah blah. However, to stay at the table whilst he made a hell of a racket would have been bloody rude to the other guests, who, it is fair to assume, have come to a fine dining restaurant with the expectation of a pleasant environment, great service and a wonderful meal. A loud crying baby is not conducive to this experience. The solution of course is to not take small children to such establishments in the first place.

I made the decision to be respectful of the other diners. If it was someone else’s child I would be wanting to choke the living shit out of both the parents and the child. So, if you have small children, then for fucks sake, don’t take them to nice restaurants. You could well be ruining someone’s night you selfish bastards. You have children, you are relegated to McDonalds. Suck it up.