- This project is going forward.
- Hmmm this sounds like front page of the Dom Post Material....
- Is it morning tea time yet?
- I just had a call from a journalist panicking about……
- I'll have to consult with legal before we can go forward.
- Yes, Minister
- Is it afternoon tea yet?
- What no sausage rolls?
- This meeting cannot go forward until the sausage rolls arrive.
- What no sauce?
So like I'm da big REM fan and was listening to Green earlier… when I realised I'd misheard a lyric and I had done so like, forever. In the song Stand I thought the line was 'if fishes were trees, the trees would be falling". Kinda weird imagery but that's Micheal Stipe for you. He's always toying with weird word ideas and making interesting connections and juxapostions of ideas, even if you have no idea what he's on about.
The true line is 'if wishes were trees, the trees would be falling' which kinda makes more sense in the context of the song. I prefer my version any way…
The World XI batting line-up – is this best team ever assembled in terms of averages? 6 of them have averages of over 50. 5 of those are over 54. Nine players of that team have at least two centuries to their name for a total of 126 centuries between them. Has that ever happened before? I'd email The Numbers Guy at Cricinfo but well that would be just too tryhard...
I note too, Levi was excited enuff to blog (just for me?) on it – some where). Shine on you crazy diamond. Or rather, slowly walk down the hall getting high on the lemonade of which your dreams are made while you slide away or just roll with it or … or something similarly paraphrasical. Yes, that's write Consumer Whore, I made up a word. Again. Incidentally, Fuck the Herald.
NE ways I mentioned somewhere on this lil blog that the album in Q(uestion) Don't Believe the Truth is a brilliant album. I don't need Q to tell me this but the confirmation that supposedly cool people out there know Oasis are still 'like a bomb' is somewhat heartening… considering most of you out there seem to hate Oasis… I bet the South Pacific Floral Wonder comments as such… or maybe not…
Our Kid's Big Big Brother was quoted as saying:
"It was a change to not get the token Live Act award for being able to play the guitar...Best Album, nice one."
Which is ironicish (there's another new word) cos Noel once said something like awards only matter if come from the fans. i.e. awards from the wanky music industry types itself don't count. But today is almost like, whatever. Geddit? Whatever? Levi will at least.
In accepting the ummm, glory? from such Q(uarters), maybe Noel is getting old and tiring of drinking Bonehead's supersonic gin and tonics. What's the story? I guess this is what happens when you stop taking drugs like they were 'a cup of tea in the morning'....
After a shower and a shave I'm wandering down the hill in the freakin rain. I'm feeling half human but its quiet and there's no one around. I throw a rock in the air, I don't hit some1. Its like I'm Bruno Lawrence in the Quiet Earth or something. The freakin twilight zone is about to take effect or something. I half-pie expect my mouth to close over a la that show or a la Matrix ripp off. Where's all the peeps?
I get to the bus stop. There is life but not as I know it. A short woman with blonde hair stands shortly before me. Instead of the usual 30 peeps such as Lawyer Guy and Wonder Woman it's this stranger. What's that about stranger danger? Is there a plague I don't know about? I wonder. I'd talk to Blonde but she isn't offering sweeties and I'm afraid of catching Ebola or something that Dustan Hoffman can't cure in time for work.
I decide to buy a paper to see about the Black Death. The Dairy Dude says 'morning, JJ its a bit early for you isn't it?' I mutter something like 'glad ur alive bro'. And then the penny drops. So I pick up my change off the floor and wander outside.
Blonde is still there all by herself. The paper says nothing about the Black Death but there's a picture of Rachel Hunter in it so I suspect I could have woken up in Hell. Summoning bravery of Aslan like proportions I say,
'Morning dollface, what's the time?'
'Bout 6.15' shes says.
'Dam!' says I.
I was up 2 hours early.
So like some smart* chick has been running round some town claiming to be Tana Umaga's sister and duping a taxi company into free rides. U can find the story on the NZ Herald site and a cool picture of a python with eyes bigger than his head. I'd link but it's a hassle apparently...
Ne ways – this impersonation reminded me of a feeble I attempted about 3 or 4 years ago. JJ Murphy's bar had recently opened in Cuba Street. The usual and then recent Wellington immigrants/suspects and I were there, lagered up, aled and ginned up, as usual. Probably barred up as well but that's another story.
So iizatdabar about to order a drink and I spy with my lil eye a certain tasty beverage beginning with the letter S.
Says I "A steiny thanks, mate"
The Good Barkeep "Sorry mate, we don't sell that here, JJ Murphy's is a DB bar we cannot sell Steinlager or Lion Products by contract. How about a Celtic Red?"
Says I "Yes yous all do – their there" and I points at 'em.
GB "Oh those are the owner's….."
SI "Well I'm the owner's son!"
GB "Yeah? What's your name then?"
Slightly bemused GB "Piss off mate!!!!"
SI "I'll have a Celtic Red, then thanks"
*till she got caught.
In some crazy way I feel Oprah owes us all big time for unleashing this madness.