Email to:KJ & BS Vow To Try Even Harder….
Big Swifty is now in a possie to report:
OK folks, the news you’ve all been waiting for. Finally, after much backsheesh, a few carefully placed banana peels and a visit from some of my old associates, studio space has magically materialised this Thursday! (See Aunty, it wasn’t that hard, was it?……)
Can lightning strike twice?
I’ve had my PA clear my diary. I feel greatness afoot! Damn the GrimALDIs. Their New Year’s Eve light show (and the rest of Monaco) will just have to wait.
SO, it’s CONFIRMED!
We’ll be (as KJ drives me mad saying) in studio on the 4th. New track soon after that!
Go tell it on the mountains,
Sing it to the seas,
Yell from the rooftops,
But most of all,
Tell it to Tex Hodge,
Whoever the hell he is.
BS – and I know KJ wants to talk to you for a bit……..
IMPORTANT FOR THE INTEGRITY OF THIS TRACK. Yes, Big Swifty moved Monaco – and yes, we are back in studio (just can’t get used to saying it!) in 43 hours time. AND WE URGENTLY NEED YOUR HELP. This track frames what is said during those little tiffs that ALWAYS erupt between intimates on Christmas Day. Here’s a couple of classics to get you worked up:
Well, he’s YOUR sister’s brother-in-law and…….
I’ll drink as much as I bloody well like……
Big Swifty said it was okay for me to put out this appeal as long as I made something clear from the start:
Tell ‘em in no uncertain terms KJ – tell ‘em that no-one gets nothin’ if their line is used.
KJ – in anticipatory mode……(so what else is new?)
….just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the ‘website’ space – not necessary!
Prawn Cutlet Award
December 2nd, 2008 at 1:14 pm
No, I DON’T have any batteries
Well YOU said TRADITIONAL…
Did you take the turkey out of the freezer?
Ho bloody ho.
December 2nd, 2008 at 1:15 pm
Have you got the instructions…….?
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:31 pm
Have I offended anyone ?
December 2nd, 2008 at 4:06 pm
A toast to Cousin Glad……
You’ve got no right to say that….
Family photo? I don’t think so…..
This is the absolute last b——– year I’m coming home…….
December 2nd, 2008 at 4:36 pm
Why thank you ExLeetonite – We have the first verse! KJ
December 2nd, 2008 at 7:36 pm
How many times must a girl lie down
Before she finds her a man?
How many times must a white dove fly
Before it finds love in a nest?
‘N how many times must a girl buy the drinks
Before she finds peace on the sand?
The answer my friend is Blowjobs in the Wind
The answer is Blowjobs in the Wind.
The above lyrics were sent to me by the an acappella chapel choir but I have told them to apply elsewhere, perhaps Crikey.
They are too rough for this gig.
December 2nd, 2008 at 7:54 pm
From today’s Crikey: If ABC Radio National listeners are curious about what they might be offered in the way of online “content” instead of the award-winning Street Stories feature show which has been dropped so producers can do (sic) for internet work, they need look (or listen) no further than Kerrie-Jean’s scatological blog which currently proclaims a rap track called Jesus I could do with a root this Xmas (sic) -downloadable, of course. K-J’s blog is advertised on RN’s (”world of ideas”) front page or it can be accessed directly at http://www.kerriejean.com.au/. Could this be management’s idea of the future? Or is K-J, as she likes to be known, having a lend of them? It will be interesting to see how far she is prepared to go to test their patience.
Crikey! I’ve never seen such a fuss since Bletchley Park parachuted agents with bags of Jaffas into Berlin to disrupt Nazi propaganda films.
Crikey! Not since the relatives of Dr Goebbels protested against the suggestion in British wartime song lyrics that he was fruitless in the downstairs department has there been such a fuss. Himmler’s complaint was something similar.
Crikey! What would Vera Lynn say about this ?
December 2nd, 2008 at 8:43 pm
KJ, I have returned from a northern autumn on the southern Italian island home of my ancestors, to be confronted with outrage from Crikey.com.au.
On the island there is a way to deal with these types, but I have assimilated – so I wrote a letter. Which goes:
“I’m still trying to understand the point of your dig at ABC Radio National’s blog “kerriejean.com” in Tips and Rumours [02/12/08].
“Is the tipster/rumourer trying to undermine the only ABC website pages that make me laugh out loud?
“Sounds like the tipster Could Do With a Root This Xmas.”
December 2nd, 2008 at 8:57 pm
Here, take this and make yourself useful for the first bloody time this year…..
KJ says: And this is just another example of why I’ve put my future in Big Swifty’s hands. He never stops thinking…….never stops creating….
Come to think of it, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is THE difference between an artist and a fitter and turner…
December 2nd, 2008 at 9:05 pm
Oh my, I’ve NEVER ever felt so much a part of something good, something very special indeed. Do you know what? At a time when any sensible person would be feeling vulnerable, I’ve never ever felt so damm COSY. I’m half expecting to open my door and find someone with a big tray of (yes, you all know my faves by now!) prawn cutlets covered by a tea towel.
I really think this is going to be the best Xmas ever…….
Big Swifty just took a short break:
Send ‘em my regards….send ‘em my bloody regards BUT tell ‘em KJ, tell ‘em we’re in studio in less than 36 hours……so remind ‘em to give us some words for the track. There’s NO way we’re gonna let a small town shitfight come between us and CREATIVE HEAVEN…
December 2nd, 2008 at 9:07 pm
El Latino,
Well said, old chap. As Tony Soprano would say: Wassup?
I have sent this message to Crikey’s Tips and Rumours:
Crikey! What a fuss your correspondent in Tips and Rumours makes about KJ’s singing satire on female sexual desire on her Radio National blog as he directs the attention of ABC Management.
Gollygeewillikins, as we used to say in London when the doodlebugs whistled over.
At the time I was working at Bletchley Park on lyrics to be broadcast along with music to the lads at the Front and then relayed to the Germans.
I was quite satisfied with my composition:
Hitler hat nur bloss erst bekam man Ball, Göring hat zwei aber sehr klein, Himmler ist einigermaßen ähnlich, Aber ärmlich alt Goebbels hat null Bäusche überhaupt.
After the War, a German journalist on Kreikart complained on behalf of the Goebbels Family that the BBC was still broadcasting a song suggesting that Dr Goebbels was totally deficient in the Downstairs Department and were prepared to sue and seek dismissal of the author.
The action was not successful because DNA tests did not exist then and furthermore the original author of Hitler Has Only Got One Ball was Vera Lynn.
The Ginger Man
December 2nd, 2008 at 10:21 pm
…..the original author of Hitler Has Only Got One Ball was Vera Lynn….
You know Ginger, I can’t help but be a little suspicious. You seem to have such an intimate knowledge…….you sure you were on our side?
But down to business -
I have a declamation, so listen up all, ‘cos I shall declame but once:
Crilkey shmikey!
Let ‘em bellow,
Let ‘em howl,
Let ‘em trumpet
Who gives a shit?
The real business here is Art!
High, low, you decide, but art is art, altitude notwithstanding.
Cultural Relevance, that’s what we’re talking about.
So let’s cut to the chase folks.
Like KJ has said, we’ll be in studio in less than 3 packs of Stuyvo reds, 15 short blacks, 8 Nurofens, 20 shots of Jack, and a couple of trips to Aldi….we need material!
Stay on track comrades, focus focus focus!
Waste no more creative juice on answering the naysayers and wannabe despots who flock like flies to carrion – they have their own shit in which to wallow.
Rather, give us lines.
We want lines.
We need lines.
About Christmas.
Fight back in a small yet oh so significant way.
Oh?
Ho!
And it’ll be here before you know it. BS
You’re dead right Big Swifty – it’s all about staying ON MESSAGE. And I’ve been ON MESSAGE since 3am.
Don’t you talk about my mother like that….
YOU said you’d pick Mum up……
It must be 30 degrees in the shade……
I told you – they’re NOT open on Christmas Day!
Peace and Goodwill to all MEN…….
December 3rd, 2008 at 11:44 am
Thank you, BS. I have to admit the author was really EVA Lynn, a member of my Sexualische Gruppe .
No I have never crossed over despite the temptations of Vichy absinthe.
Not since Bletchley Park has there been such a Gathering of Talent as you have assembled.
Our Boys at the Front(s) are waiting from the next offering of the Lovely Leeton Lark.
There is a part of a foreign field that is Forever Leeton.
I hear that Obama is flying in for the launch, and is prepared to fund another single, CAN WE GET A ROOT ? YES WE CAN. YES WE CAN. YES WE CAN.
December 3rd, 2008 at 12:49 pm
OK OK Already!!! What a kerfuffle. Swifty emailed me and he assures me in his capacity as Leeton’s foreign cultural attaché to Monaco that none other than the Prince is feeling Leeton. “Jesus I could do with a root” was a huge hit at the ball staged to herald Swifty’s arrival. It was reported in the Monaco morning news and I quote: “Swifty left them wanting more, more, more!!” I would like to add that if Crikey dot com is so good, why did Steven Mayne sell it? I doubt other Australian cultural icons like Farnsey and Barnsey have to deal with such irreverence to their art? I wait with bated breath for this next offering with the same fervour usually reserved for the arrival of Swedish backpacking fruit pickers in short shorts.
Going Blind Feeling Leeton
Dimentagon
December 3rd, 2008 at 1:31 pm
Dimentagon – you may be interested in this little piece of local knowledge of the HIGHEST ORDER. If you want to be part of the official welcoming committee for fruitpicking Scandinavian backpackers just turn up in the freezer isle of Leeton Woolies, 2pm-7pm, December-March. You can’t miss ‘em. They’re the ones with their heads wedged between the frozen herring fillets. No one gives them a hard time. Afterall, these young people are trying to cope with temperatures a good 40 degrees higher than what they’re used to. Sounds dangerous and it is!
December 3rd, 2008 at 3:50 pm
I know you’re always mentioning Hec.
I bet the family sang Hector the Trash Collector, Frankie Davidson’s response to Sadie the Cleaning Lady. How about a few bars?
Megsy – you are a trooper! OF COURSE, I know all about Frankie Davidson and Hector The Trash Collector. Here’s the set up – Hec would park himself at the head of the table on Christmas Day. All of a sudden Hector The Trash Collector would be blaring off the turntable. Hec’s five lovely girls knew what to do – get brooms and wettexes and get down! Hector the trash collector, he’s gone and flipped his lid all over Sadie…….. Then, after Frankie had done his work, Hec the humanitarian always said: Put on In The Ghetto. I WONDER WHAT THE POOR PEOPLE ARE DOIN’! On a cold and grey Chicago morn, another little baby child is born….in the Ghetto…and his momma cried…….
Megsy, you have broken my heart…..in the nicest way possible….
December 3rd, 2008 at 3:52 pm
Yes KJ I am familiar with that strange custom. They perfect the sacred frozen herring fertility ritual in the Bondi branch of Woolies before heading to the greener cultural pastures of Luscious Leeton. Now I want you to get good nights kip young lass so you can come out metaphorically swinging like Anthony Mundine at a Richard Wilkins interview. Do it for Leeton, Do it for Kulcha, Do it for Australia but most importantly do it for Art. Do us proud KJ. I Feel you will.
PS… As a professional producer I prescribe gargling something alcoholic before the session and swallowing. I suspect that Swifty will be loaded up with duty free medicine from the prince’s liquor cabinet.
Feeling Leeton
Dimentagon
December 3rd, 2008 at 9:51 pm
I have received many emails asking me to describe my time at Bletchley Park. It is far too painful for me at the moment, but a friend has sent me this tiny excerpt from his memoir of those dark days:
Imagine if you will a dun coloured room filled with dunnish dons, and a few women.
A small fan adds to the slight Spring breeze blowing through the single opened blackout window and the wireless emits, We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.
The teleprinters chatter their German messages. Darn it, says a secretary, there goes the umlaut key again. Call maintenance , somebody.
Before her is a giant picture of Herr Schickelgruber and someone has scrawled beneath it,
Ein Testikle, ja!
The Ginger Man has used the excuse of the change of season to don a Trinity blazer, a silk shirt with a cravat, and grey flannels.
He’s ready for anything the Hun can hurl.
He’s grateful for the Gitanes a French agent, Pierre Le Speu, known as Vomit to the typists, has brought back, and one hangs from his languid lower lip. They go well with absinthe.
You know, gang, he says with a supercilious drawl that masks an inner tension.
Churchill’s quite wrong to be prepared for us to lose Australia so that we can retake it after we’ve won over here.
You’ve probably heard of The Brisbane Line where everything north of the banana
capital could be surrendered to the Nips.
Well, gang, it’s worse than that.
There’s the Leeton Line.
Everything north of the cannery will be in Japanese hands.
We shall have lost the Athens of the South.
The Ginger Man reached inside his blazer pocket for his wallet, flipped it over and gazed at the woman’s picture.
We met in Kerry, after I was sent down from Trinity. We were young, brave and foolish, and of course, madly in love. The world was at our feet.
She told me that her family was the only one in Dingle not affected by consanguinity through the marriage of close blood relatives. In fact, the gene pool was fertilized by the arrival of Mr Ching, an itinerant seller of silks and sewing kits.
You’ve probably read Synge’s book, Mr Ching, You Are My Heart’s Delight.
A true story.
Yeats, the fool, refused to allow a play based on the book to be performed at the Abbey.
Lady Gregory, in her typically arrogant fashion, had put her foot down, damn her.
The Ginger Man continued his soliloquy.
If we had a child, we were going to call it Kerrie, after the place where we met, down near the Dingle Wharf, past the fish gutting factory where the poor would beg, a fish- head for the love of God, mistuh ! A fish-head for the love of Mary, Mother of God, mistuh!
Kerrie, ah, there’s a name for you.
Now the mother to be has gone, and where to of all places? Leeton! And now the little yellow men may soon have it in their hands. Damn that Churchill!
I have a postcard from her.
[He fished it from his wallet. It was well worn from loving perusal.]\
Dear Markham, Arrived safely in Leeton. I have a job with Defence at the Cannery where we prepare (deleted by Censor) to be dropped behind enemy lines. Yes, a Kerrie will be born here. Au revoir ! Love, G.
The Ginger Man strode to the window and gazed out at the Spitties warming up, their revs shaking the Nissan hut..
His back was facing the typists and they could not see his face. But they could see his fists were clenched and white, and his shoulders shook with emotion.
Said one of the secretaries, They were young, brave and foolish, and of course, madly in love. The world was at their feet.
December 4th, 2008 at 6:46 am
May all of Australia (and especially Mr Dimentagon) know…….I slept like a Leeton cannery lady after a doubler on the two fruits line….
In studio in just under four hours. I will spend the time following Big Swifty’s warm up instructions. Throat singing (45 mins), floorwork callisthenics (50 mins), make up and hair (the rest).
One thing I do know – when I close my door tonight, I’ll have a lot more than when I opened it this morning!
December 8th, 2008 at 3:46 pm
lines:
- No, I will NOT wear a paper hat…
- Yes, I DO want to watch the queen’s message…..
- Oh great, just what I’ve always wanted (not)…..
- That bloody tree has shed needles everywhere…..
- There is no santa…..
- Who drank all the cherry brandy…….?
- More turkey anyone….?
December 8th, 2008 at 3:54 pm
Hello there hi-tackle……
Could we be talkin’ COUNTRY Chrissie?
KJ
December 9th, 2008 at 8:59 am
aah the smell of the bush … and brut 33 (again)
December 9th, 2008 at 1:31 pm
How about:
Jesus Christ, it’s 40 degrees outside woman and you still want roast pork.
Hide the cherry brandy, auntie Mary’s just pulled up out front.
And you can stick that bloody elf up your arse…….