Email to:Weblog Poll Closes: KJ Faces Press!
Knock, knock, knock – knock, knock KNOCK…KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!!!!!
KJ (in just a bit-too-tight red stretch CAPri pants and tatty just a bit-too-loose black bustier) gets out from under the couch. Black mascara mixed with tears have created rivulets of gunk in her wrinkles. KJ’s long, long hair, usually sleek, resembles a rear photo taken in a knackery holding bay……and there’s evidence of unprecedented Sub-Conscious eating (SE)….. all-bran, smarties, traces of you can’t tell me this is not margarine and even a chop bone are stuck in those rivulets of pain……..
Nice woman shows what it was like under the couch. Cr:Dave Austria. flickr
KJ OPENS THE DOOR…….
Ah, the BOYS of the press, the boys of the press…..(sigh)….I was expecting you…….
(Simon, SBS) – Can we come in KJ?
No, you BOYS of the press, you may not come in. NO YOU MAY NOT!
(Les, The Mail)…….gee those CAPri pants look good on you KJ…..mighty fine! Why can’t we come in…..afterall, you’ve just come SEVENTH in the finals of those Webbies?
Because Les, there’s stuff in here that if you BOYS of the press saw, IT would become THE story…..I know every trick in the book. (Pulls chop bone out of deepest wrinkle). But, I’ll tell you what, I’ll do it in the stairwell.
(KJ and the BOYS of the press adjourn to the stairwell – a very tight fit)
Shoot!
Kieran (The Sydney Telegraph). What would you like to say to the other contestants?
Congratulations of course. What else would I stand here and say? Particularly to Mr Blair from your stable KIERAN. He deserves all he gets……
(Nick. WIN news)….ditto those CAPri pants KJ) – SEVENTH place. Looking back on your campaign, any mistakes?
Thinking kerriejean.com was a weapon of mass destruction was my only mistake….that’s all I can think of now BOYS of the press.
(KJ yanks a handful of gritty smarties off her face and gulps them down).
(Les. Murrumbidgee Irrigator) You make such a fuss about your love for Leeton. But did the people of the town get behind you?
Des (sorry LES) I’ll say this once and ONCE only. Take this down. Quote me: I said I LOVE LEETON…..I NEVER, EVER SAID IT LOVED ME….
(Fresh tears reinvigorate the rivulet of gunk).
Justin (The Border Mail) – Watch those red hot CAPri pants KJ….you’ll get gunk all over them. Gee boys, this is awful. KJ – do you wanna STOP THIS NOW? We can stop it RIGHT NOW if you want to…….
I’m OK BOYS of the press…..you had your hand up Bob….. JESUS I COULD DO WITH A ROOT
Bob (Area News). Your thoughts KJ on blogging and women?
KJ: Can you be a little more specific Bob?
Bob: You know KJ, women of YOUR age being bloggers…….?
(KJ becomes unsteady in her grotty slip-ons, begins to shake…the whimpering starts. Th, thanks to ever, everyone who did vo vo vo, vote… th, th, th, thanks to ever, ever, one who di…….
(KJ collapses into the BOYS from the press).
Next day, headlines SCREAM:
AUS FIRST – BOTOX LAB DISCOVERED IN CULT BLOGGER’S FLAT! …….There’s stuff in there that will become the story, there’s stuff in there that will become the story………)
Now, you tell me – you tell me, can you remember, can YOU remember where I came in those bloody awards???
As usual, feel free to report in. How do you handle things when they don’t go completely your way. Do you take things personally? Do you believe in strong inner cores? Do you constantly love and think deeply or only when you feel like it? How’s that silly Bob having his hand where he shouldn’t have?
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
January 14th, 2009 at 8:27 pm
KJ,
I was telling my old drinking buddy Martin McDonagh on the phone that Colin Farrell did not win a Golden Globe for his In Bruges performance by following an instructon manual.
Nor should you KJ follow the suggestion by Mr O. that you start reading Chinese war manuals or Italian instruction manuals for princes.
The Art of War Instruction Manual? No way.
Your late run at an incredible speed frightened the lights out of Blair and Co.
As I told Spide, we are there not to lose. We are there to Try Do.
As for instruction manuals, this will amuse you, without any ‘instruction’.
http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=kAIpRRZvnJg
January 15th, 2009 at 7:54 am
The Awards just keep rolling in for Tim Blair.
It’s an Award Plethora!
There’s not room for a coffee mug on his Daily Tele sideboard because of the plethora of trophies..
I’ll have to go with the flow and give him some awards.
This clip coming – at a time of tragedy for the people of Palestine -completely outstripped all competitors………..
Blair’s Bloggers have cheered it to the rafters.
Another Trophy for the Sideboard, Tim.
http://blogs.news.com.au/dailytelegraph/timblair/
January 15th, 2009 at 9:05 am
Dear KJ,
I think you have started a revolution in Computer Technology.
This morning I tried to log in to Windows XP
The screen said Clickhere
Then it said
TryDo
January 15th, 2009 at 9:51 am
Some geeks have written to say they agree with George Smiley (see earlier strings) that Colossus was a piece of junk.
Not true. It could print at 5000 characters per second!
Please go to
http://www.codesandciphers.org.uk/lorenz/rebuild.htm
January 15th, 2009 at 10:14 am
Now there Bill, now there Bill…I’ve edited your missive – you’ve got yourself all worked up. And I (still frazzled) just CANNOT face the prospect of a defamation writ at this (fraught) stage of proceedings! I KNOW you have very strong opinions about the Weblog Awards but I’m gonna win next year, I’m gonna win!
Remember Bill – this is a DEMOCRACY…..KEEP CALM (but only if you want to…) KJ
And the award goes ….. to that bloke over there…..
Note viewers that my gravatar shows “Blair the idiot” enjoying himself at the pub. And Gingerman what can I say about that cartoon except that it is wrong on so many levels. The Weblog awards are a disgrace and all I can say to them is shove your prize where the sun doesn’t shine.
PS: Are you sure Bill you never attended the Hec school of plain speaking?? On ya, KJ
January 15th, 2009 at 11:39 am
Yo, Miss Treat Ray,
Sorry I joakinge again.
Congratshun on your pole.
How many Darvesh?
Before El Djinn leave he say my Spellchekke Upta.
He say I need this clippe plus some Poof Reading
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2009/01/mental-health-7.html
January 15th, 2009 at 2:14 pm
Dear Mr O’Slatter,
I am in complete sympathy. How can one be moderate when talking about lickspittle gombeen men who have sold their soul to work for King Rupert and deride all intellectual effort, proclaim the dark against the light, and think the Gaza Tragedy is a subject for comedy ?
All humour, of course, is value-laden. Theirs is cripple-kicking sickness of the worst kind, worthy of the SS Naked Dancers Award.
January 15th, 2009 at 2:32 pm
Back in Tinsel Town.
Did a drop inside a Marvel comic in Green Bans Park, then walked down to what the local authority thinks is wetlands to observe a mother cormorant and her chicks drying in the east wind.
Black cormorant in the east wind? I knew the original message was corrupted.
It was not a black swan. Must take it up with Big Swifty when he returns from
Oblivion, Victoria.
The chimneys at St Peters have lost their festive decorations. They and the ovens give me a chill.
January 15th, 2009 at 5:19 pm
Dear KJ,
Sorry I haven’t visited your blog for a while. What’s this about coming seventh? Well done. Don’t let those BOYS of the press get to you – obviously didn’t like being beaten by a woman! Great job – you go girl.
KJ: Hello again Maggie…..those BOYS of the press…..generally pretty good guys…smart talkers, lots of fun…….know when a country changes its name…..
I ALSO have had some experience on a deeper level….gotta go Maggie, gotta go! KJ
January 15th, 2009 at 5:42 pm
I don’t suppose you have been nominated for any Australia Day awards, KJ. I understand the lists are endless.
I’ve actually put four noms in for my local shire awards. I believe in those who do the yards should be recognised.
That WAS a lamb chop in a wrinkle, eh? Very Patriotic?
KJ: Not exactly a lamb chop Megsy – a lamb chop bone. There also had been a prawn cutlet lodged in the second biggest wrinkle on my forehead but luckily I managed to yank it out just before the BOYS of the press arrived! I’ve just also just seen a shockin’ expose on commercial telly re The Australian Of The Year award – bookies have suspended betting because of a suspected leak about the winner. Apparently, there’s been a plunge on Professor Mick Dodson. It’s a disgrace! What other country would have its citizen of the year comp tainted by a betting scandal??!! Sometimes I really don’t know what makes people tick…..
January 15th, 2009 at 7:18 pm
Greetings Bill,
KJ (now known as The Finalist) has indicated that she’d like to do it again.
I’m not sure that I am up to another mission, even with the X-men as backup.
We never had awards at Bletchley.
We did not need an Iron Cross.
We broke the code, played the chess, drank the pink gin, played the piano, sang songs (some of them in Sumerian) and had fun.
We were all Finalists in our Field, and that was good enough.
Best wishes,
TGM
PS Your critical analysis is very valuable as are your observations. Have you noticed lately some colour changes ?
Why is Everything So Bloody Green?
January 15th, 2009 at 7:37 pm
Does The Ginger Man have an Australian itinerary, or does he just pop up somewhere?
January 15th, 2009 at 7:39 pm
Forget Moon Walking.
I want to learn dervish dancing.
Can I give it a twirl?
Does the Chief Monk give lessons?
January 16th, 2009 at 6:22 am
Some of the terms people use nowadays upset me.
For example chicklit.
Is Pride and Prejudice chicklit?
No.
Sincere congratulations on being a Finalist in the Best in the Pacific and running seventh in a contest dominated by powerful sources.
Thousands of readers will join in the congratulations that you were a Finalist, not a Chick Finalist.
January 16th, 2009 at 12:25 pm
Hello Stella – itinerary, schedule, timetable, regimen, Contiki tour brochure, word counts…..from my observations these are ALL foreign concepts for The Ginger Man. He’s the quintessential just pop up sorta guy!
January 16th, 2009 at 3:00 pm
They’re talking about an ‘award’ for the pilot who landed on the Hudson River.
I do not think he cares about that. A ‘”finalist” in heroics?
After the birdstrikes I am sure he said to himself, Try Do, and he did.
January 16th, 2009 at 4:33 pm
Hello Chkdsk – His name is Captain Chesley ‘Sully’ Sullenberger 111 – and I am in love with him. As you may know, I have a crazed pathological dislike of flying but LOVE everything to do with the aviation business….planes, Aircrash Investigation, scheduling, manifolds, captains’ uniforms……..I am fascinated by flying just as long as I am NOT.
Captain Chesley ‘Sully’ Sullenberger 111 is 57 and apparently very nice. He lives in Danville, California. He has a wife called Lorrie. She says he is kind, sexy and LOYAL.
‘When he came home drenched and smelling of aviation fuel I WASN’T suspicious….,’ she told reporters. ‘I trust Sully, I always have.’
Mrs Sullenberge said that she and Sully just sat on the couch (which was fast being ruined by aviation fuel) and talked as usual….what was for dinner, how her botox was holding up…just everyday things. She said the only thing that was different was that she didn’t light up for safety reasons.
‘I just kept chattering away. I didn’t want to raise any SUSPICIONS. I thought that if I did Sully would think I didn’t trust him.’
Mrs Sullenberger said that Sully finally turned to her and said:
Can’t you smell aviation fuel on me?
‘It was then that I lost it,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to KNOW about it Sully, I just don’t want to know. I CAN’t afford to know….’
Mrs Sullenberger said that Sully then quietly left, showered and showered and showered, ate dinner…..and then they went bed as usual.
‘I know now that Sully’s behaviour WAS suspicious….I KNOW now…..but we’re alright, perhaps even stronger together. You just have to forgive one slip in 45 years, you have to…..’
To find out more about why I’ve fallen SO badly for Sully: Click ‘ere/Try Do…
http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2009/0115093hero1.html
January 16th, 2009 at 6:22 pm
Just spotted an old comrade of mine, Urger, whom I knew when he was working on Fleet Street, that street of shame.
Lo and behold, Urger was one of the people on the half-floating ditched plane on television, but not taking a scrap of notice of anybody.
There he was on NBC, large as life, sitting on the tail of the aircraft, dangling a fishing line into the icy Hudson River.
On his head was a Shandon fishing hat. It could have been the one I gave him in Cork, Ireland when he was investigating The Great Jameson Distillery Scandal.
People were begging Urger to hop onto a passing ferry.
Captain ‘Sully’ Sullenberger was also urging Urger.
Urger was not having a bar of it.
Got any bait? he asked ‘Sully’. There are bass in here, for sure.
Only the promise of a duty-free bottle of spirits lured him away from angling, and even then he was telling fellow ferry passengers: There are bass out there, for sure.
On landing, he began scouring the foreshores for clams and bait.
I think he had more mercury in him than a hospital thermometer.
Urger did not bother filing anything on the crash.
The networks have the stories.
Urger was only into exclusives.
He had to have it on his own
He was unbeatable because he always made up the story,
His competitors could never track down his sources because they did not exist.
He had not always been that successful.
It was only when he came to New York as a stringer for a braze of tabloids that he cottoned on to this notion.
Before that, he had been posted to many places without success.
Sam Glutenberg of the Tribune recalled:
We sent him to Addis to cover the civil war. Not a line. Cuba for the Bay. Not a drop of copy. Berlin for the Wall coming down. Not a word.
Worst case of writer’s block I ever saw.
In New York Urger came good. Mystery murders, stolen gold, secret bomb plots, Mafia drug deals.
A barrage of exclusives.
Other correspondents were receiving constant kicks in the rear from their news desks.
But it was The Heiress that was Urger’s undoing.
He made her up – like all the others – and dictated The Missing Heiress story from his bed.
Correspondents were receiving messages like: YOUR STORY MISSING HEIRESS SOONEST OR YOU ARE FIRED REPEAT FIRED STOP NEWS DESK ENDS.
Urger kept dictating story after story on the woman. Sightings, descriptions, secret film star lovers, theories on kidnapping, drug allegations, white slavery. And he never left his bed and bottle.
And the editors of his rivals kept kicking arses.
EXCLUSIVE. FROM OUR MAN IN NEW YORK. SIGHTING OF HEIRESS blared the newspapers that were Urger’s clients.
Every criminal has his nemesis.
Rory McGrough of the Times finally found the answer to Urger’s scheming.
It came to him when he was sitting in the Three Dead Men bar in The Bronx.
A thunderbolt.
Marty, he said. Please hand me the phone.
Hello? Put me through to Copy.
Copy? Get this down. Here’s the head and intro.
MISSING HEIRESS FOUND IN LOWER EAST SIDE.
Exclusive Interview for the Times.
By Rory McGrough.
Sobbing with relief. and grateful to be alive after her ordeal,
the Missing Heiress. told me today how ……
Urger went on a long fishing holiday after that caper.