Email to:Welcome to Boot Hill……
Hands up anyone who’s NEVER been given THE BOOT?
Congratulations! You can STOP reading. There’s is nothing in here for you, move along, now MOVE ALONG…..
BUT, I am heartened to report that - in my line of work - I am privileged to rub up against hundreds of folks NOT so fortunate.
cr: Kevin H:flickr
Some were given THE BOOT so many times they opted for solitary lives.
De-listing from the romance market, many became lighthouse keepers. When that line of work disappeared, they monitored temperatures and wind speeds at remote meterological stations.
In retirement, plane spotting is the hobby of choice. By the way, have you see the new A380 Airbus (design range: 15,200 kms, cruising speed: mach 0.85) lift off? Magnificent! You could fit all of Whitton, Ganmain or Ardlethan in just one and they handle like sportscars….
But, back to our serial BOOTEES: THEY DID THE RIGHT THING.
This is my rule. Play the love market with a CAN DO, even DARING-DO attitude: Date, defacto, go in flagrante delicto ALL YOU WANT…..Off you go!
BUT, if you’ve been the BOOTEE for EIGHT times STRAIGHT, you MUST give up. There IS something seriously wrong with you.
First step. You MUST admit to yourself and others that your rejection statistics have become unmanageable.
Secondly, you MUST appear before the BOOTEE Tribunal as a matter of urgency. For you are an Habitual BOOTEE.
The Magistrate will immediately grant you a Self-Restraining Romance Order. Simple conditions – go within 10 metres of anyone of the opposite sex (or the same if that’s your predilection) and you’ll end up in BIG trouble. You’ll immediately be sent to BOOTEE Camp (and trust me, they’re NO picnic) for up to six months.
SO, some urgent advice for incurable romantics on the precipice of disaster – SEVEN straight BOOTINGS.
* Keep calm. More than likely, there IS something seriously wrong with you BUT your next date, defacto or in flagrante delicto is THE decider.
Be very careful, extra careful…..
*MEN:
DO NOT – after drinks have been taken - start to cry, going on and on about how your last seven love skirmishes ended with becoming THE BOOTEE. Instead, take the initiative. Lead off with:
Do you know why I aways find dating exciting? It’s because it may give me the opportunity to find out for the very FIRST time what it’s like to be given THE BOOT……
* WOMEN:
DO NOT – after drinks have been taken – start to cry, going on and on about how your last seven love objects REFUSED to be the father of your last-chance child. Instead, take the initiative. Lead off with:
Do you know why I find dating exciting? I may be 44 but I always think it may give me the opportunity to find out whether I’m still fertile – but, it’s not something I think about much, really it’s not……(Caution: Make sure that thermometer says in your bag)
*Finally, BEST tip of all. Meet for date. Sit down. Immediately say:
I’M SORRY BUT THIS IS NOT GOING TO WORK.
All power to ya! YOU have just given someone THE BOOT. Your BOOTEE meter clicks back to zero. You are safe - for now.
************************
* Frantic to hear from you? Have you ever reached the magic eight consecutive BOOTEE limit? Did you de-list from the romance market or plow on? Has anything good ever come out of heartbreak? What’s the quickest way to mend a broken heart? Are you a heartbreaker? Does that make you feel good, bloody good? And, as usual, anything else is valid….
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
March 30th, 2009 at 11:45 am
Hearts do not heal
They just cope
Connected by hidden silk
That binds them in a rope.
To a time when there was love
The air filled with passion’s hope.
The aching never stops.
The aches
Must be kept in a secret cache within
While those who never love call it sin.
Sometimes a look, a face or just a song
Reminds your heart of love long gone.
It is gone.
It has disappeared in icy air.
Still you remember the lover’s hair
And bodies joined in secret union
Ah!
Despair.
March 30th, 2009 at 11:49 am
Mon Cherie KJ,
As I travel the world I feel the hand of history upon me.
Now, we’re on the Euro leg.
I want to share with you a small, but I think, highly significant incident.
It happened like this:
I’m taking time out standing at the very well appointed urinal (you shold see the marble) in the men’s room, or lavatory, as they say over here of the Savoy Hotel in London, when I feel a presence beside me.
At first I think it’s my ever alert but never alarmed bodyguard JERRY HANDJOB (you’d like Jerry KJ, he once played footy for a team in Leeton called the Demons)
But no (for once) I’m wrong.
My comrade in the pissoir is none other than one of my many new friends from around the world, Monsieur Sarkozy.
Bon Jour Mon Ami sez the French Leader, slapping me vigorously on the back with his free hand.
THEN, he asks a question that I think will make all decent, God fearin’ Australians (including Megsy – we’ve never met, but you know what? I feel I know you) stand a little taller, feel a little prouder.
Ow eez eet, mon Ami that in the land of the Kangaroo
toute le monde es tres tres tes content?
As you may know, KJ I’m multilingual – Pure Margarine being just one of the strings to the Rev Kev’s bow.
So, I replied to Nicko in perfect French, but for the sake of your blogsters will now translate my riposte back into English.
It’s easy my dear Nicko – the reason everybody in Australia is happy (except poor old Mal) is because I’m sending them all handsome cheques. And even though I never asked them to, they all love me…
As we zipped up, Jerry Handjob emerged from an adjacent cubicle and winked at me knowlingly.
So you see KJ, despite what some people say, it’s all going very well.
Yours in haste,
The Rev Kev.
PS: Megsy, it’s alright to be nervy. When you’re nervy it means you’re alive. Don’t worry. My people will be in touch with your people real soon.
March 30th, 2009 at 11:52 am
Dear The Honorable Rev Kev,
Of course I remember Jerry Handjob.
EVERYBODY does.
Most talented rover the Mighty Demons ever had…..
KJ
March 30th, 2009 at 3:59 pm
Dear The Rev Kev,
Yes Siree, I’m nervy.
Employment for my little town is dependent on that minature opera house being erected on our dusty school oval IMMEDIATELY.
We’d been told to hurry making submissions for a piece of your Highly Stimulatin’ Package.
Kids’ parents are getting the boot all around.
The Rev Kev, don’t let me down.
All I know to date is that the red toilet doors and black and white speckled toilet partitions I let the kids select (in undue haste) are languishing in a regional store somewhere ’cause now we’re up for a full toilet upgrade.
Thank goodness for asbestos!
I’m so nervy I’m coming back under the cover of darkness and throwing a couple of sheets of fibro under each demountable.
March 30th, 2009 at 4:09 pm
When the losee
Gets the bootee
And becomes the winee
Then it is Yipeeeeeee!
March 30th, 2009 at 6:54 pm
My Dear Friend KJ,
I want to be Poetic Laureat just like my beautiful Lebowski. Tutor hear to ‘elp me make poem.
The moon is just sun at night
Like heartbreak it revolve slowly
Toward the light.
Heart is like a promise,
Meant to be broken.
Ciao Bella.
Hello Fabio, our Beautiful Big Lebowski would be proud of you, darn proud….KJ
March 30th, 2009 at 7:05 pm
Ma cherie Meg,
There have been a few hitches, such as reference to the itinerary as the dance circuit and Breakfast’s obvious dislike for our distinguished leader.
March 30th, 2009 at 7:17 pm
Dear KJ,
Of couse PLOW ON, even with the same suitor. It’s a war of attrition.
Be careful friend, the pre-emptive strike, born of low self-esteem, can bump you into the 8th consecutive BOOTEE Hell.
I would love to hear more from Fabio. I understand that he is the current owner of a broken heart.
Darling Fabio, there is nothing that Marry Me would not do to help in this time of adversity (and – of course – in better times).
I cried when I heard of your heartbreak.
Dear Marry Me,
How many times must I say it, how many times…?
This is not a dating site, this is NOT a dating site. The LONGSTANDING rule is: The ONLY person allowed to pick up in here is me…..
*It is true that a pre-emptive strike to avoid the EIGHT-BOOTINGS-AND -YOU’RE-OUT rule, can backfire. But I would much prefer to appear before the BOOTEE Tribunal Magistrate than live daily with a dangerous borderline BOOTEE Rating of SEVEN. If that’s not enough to make a person nervy, I don’t know what is……
March 31st, 2009 at 8:33 am
CREATIVE LONDON:
I have been negotiating my way around the G-string with a Highly Stimulatin’ Fruit Package: mangos, pears, apples, Leeton apricots, cans of old World War 11 pineapple pieces from the cannery, bananas, grapes…..you name it, I’ve got it.
It all came in the Diplomatic Bag.
It is very negotiable.
I mean, you cannot eat a Euro or nourish yourself with an Aus$.
A look at my expenses demonstrates how effectively the world can cope WITHOUT MONEY.
Taxi from Chelsea – 1 bunch grapes
New suit – 1 case paw paws
Lunch at The Ritz – 12 bananas
Hotel overnight – guard services by Breakfast
The G-String 20 leaders are very impressed.
This could be the way ahead.
March 31st, 2009 at 8:36 am
Dear KJ,
I’m writing on behalf of Our Dear Leader, who’s currently holed up in the old country on a very busy program which includes:
1. Solving the GFC by Thursday.
2. Sorting out climate change by Saturday.
3. Stopping World Poverty by Sunday.
4…….WHILE ALSO losing 10 Kg (He and Mrs Rev K are on the same program and it’s working but I cannot reveal details – SECURITY)
5. NOT sitting alongside anyone of Chinese appearance during the current ‘difficulties’.
However, The Rev Kev has not forgotten Meg.
I should explain that I’m a strategic experential marketer promoting Brand Kev.
We’d like to feature Meg and her school in a special campaign – multi media, cross platform – showcasing Meg and some of her cutest kiddies with the Leader.
An entirely spontaneous photo shoot.
We’ll be in touch soon.
Sincerely,
Siimon.
PS: Meg, is your local member one of us or one of them?
Dear Siimon,
This is exciting stuff!
No doubt about it, you and The Ginger Man are IDEAS men….and if there’s ONE thing we need now……
Gotta rush – saw a great little couch in the shop window. Price?
A tray of t-bones. I WILL have it. KJ.
March 31st, 2009 at 9:12 am
Youse are as open as open heart surgery KJ.
Most of us prefer to come at our truths laterally. The truth is not always a good thing and why fixate on the number EIGHT? – for some the number ONE suffices.
The lonely hearts club is the saddest place in a sad town.
Some of us will drink to that. The others, less harmful ways of forgetting.
As for ’something wrong with you’ you are reading too much into the random.
March 31st, 2009 at 11:32 am
Dear Mr O’Slatter,
Good point – WHY fixate on the number EIGHT?
Rule change effective from now: incurable romantics can be the subject of TEN consecutive BOOTINGS before being hauled before the BOOTEE Tribunal.
KJ
March 31st, 2009 at 12:51 pm
Eight oranges = entry to Covent Garden.
March 31st, 2009 at 12:53 pm
24 oysters + 12 king prawn cutlets = restoration of old love affair.
TWELVE king prawn cutlets? Too, TOO much….KJ.
March 31st, 2009 at 1:08 pm
When Fabio
Was a Romeo
Wrote love letters on a Roneo.
Now all that doth the task entail
Is being an Ovid via the email.
Now Kevin the K-Man reads his verse
To comfort a heart gone from bad to worse.
Cos the wife’s got the money, he’s not free
He has to freelance saving the world
Ya see?
April 1st, 2009 at 7:35 am
Dear Mr Smoothshanks,
NO media comment/NO cover/NO pics.
April 1st, 2009 at 7:39 am
We have a problem here Houston.
We have had to give our Economic adviser, Mister Gee, the boot.
He has been working 18 hours a day to assist The Rev Kev at the G for G-String 20 conference here in CREATIVE LONDON.
Mr Gee has cracked up.
We discovered that for some peculiar reason his ‘Gs’ have become ‘Ys’ and vice versa.
His mental keyboard is all screwed up.
We discovered something was wrong when he began to refer to himself as Mister Yee, and the conference as the Yee Twenty (Yee String).
He calls the British Prime Minister Mister Yordon Brown.
Mister Yee, formerly known as Mister Gee, was given THE BOOT after he said at the conference:
Ges, we are yetting on top of the yigantic economic problems that we face ylobally.
Gou and I must work toyether on the ylobal crisis.
Get another yeopolitical solution must be discovered without seeking yrandiose answers if the economic referees of the world are not to yive us the gellow card.
April 1st, 2009 at 8:16 am
Dear KJ,
I thought you might be interested in a transcript of my sermon at St Paul’s:
For I say unto thee
Blessed are the Poor…..
(Except the Very Poor for they shall NOT inherit thee Cheque)
Verily, Verily…….
I Shall go unto thee Bankers – The Macquaries and their
Unseemly Executive Packages.
And I shall cast them Asunder.
I Shall Go Unto Thee Banks and turn over the tables
of the Money Changers.
For it is written,
I am Thy Almighty The Rev Kev…..
The one and only Holder of the Almighty Stimulatin’ Package.
For Ever and Ever,
Amen.
The Rev Kev,
Great sermon! Saw you in the pulpit on telly. You looked good.
**I didn’t know St Paul’s was hired out for conferences. KJ
April 1st, 2009 at 8:32 am
What’s going on here!
You used to be a stand up for yourself kind of get on with it girl. A real CoUNTry girl.
Get back to your ROOTS, KJ!
Love em, leave ‘em and never look back. You can take the girl out of the country but you can’t take the wombat out of the girl.
Mad & Menopaused,
Well, I never!
I don’t know if YOU’RE running hot but I certainly am!!!
PS: You’ve got more testosterone than Rocky.
KJ
April 1st, 2009 at 12:58 pm
I’m trying to spin something good out of Meg’s rejection, and I think I have it.
Her NO NO NO – all in the same sentence – constitutues the Triple Order of THE BOOT.
For me a first.
The Rev Kev is praying for me.
And Jerry Handjob’s taking me out for drinks.
Still, Si’s hurtin’.
Dear Mr Smoothshanks,
Don’t worry – you’re NOWHERE near the (new) 10 consecutive BOOTINGS and you’re-out-rule.
Say hello Jerry for me – he was never part of a Mighty Demons grand final winning team but he always played his heart out. KJ.
April 1st, 2009 at 6:14 pm
Ah, the bliss of Vegenomics!
One Queensland cauliflower equals one small bottle of absinthe.
Hope you can join us, Bill O’Slatter.
Best cure for the blues.
Soon we will have people tilling and turning like their forebears.
What’s a turnip worth on Dow Jones?
Hello there The Ginger Man,
I’m trading with MEAT and going great guns!
Today’s results?
One nifty new winter skirt – #1 tray of rissoles.
Two pairs of winter tights – #1 tray mixed grill meats. KJ
April 1st, 2009 at 7:03 pm
Thank you KJ,
Ever heard of a turnip digger/eater getting a broken heart?
Have staged a turnip digging demo near the Commons.
Brown very impressed and so was The Rev Kev considering there is an 11 pc drop in skilled vacancies but a 20 pc rise in turnip digging PhDs.
April 1st, 2009 at 9:33 pm
Advice to the G-String 20ers.
There’s always someone to talk to ABOVE the table in the Tavern of Tears.
Avoid sinister under the table types.
April 1st, 2009 at 9:43 pm
My goodness, another casualty in the linguistics department.
Interpreter May Try Do drank too much at G-String 20 party and sang old Tom Jones song thus:
pRease LeRease Ret Me Go I don’t Ruv you any more…..
She had an ell of a time and rrrrrrrrocked ‘em too.
April 2nd, 2009 at 9:04 am
It’s the old, old story: a man has died
While you dined and wined there inside.
Other men were bashed, one died outside
But still you sang to Capitalism’s bride.
The screams drowned out the song
The wedding feast still rolled along.
The Rev Kev smiled and put on his sarong
He declared: We must maintain our pride.
I say in the affirmative: Yes, A Man Has Died.
April 2nd, 2009 at 9:12 am
REACTIVE LONDON:
On the Road Again……
Breakfast has the seat of a policeman’s trousers in his jaws and refuses to give it up.
There’s many a copper who bears a mark
To show that Breakfast is not all bark.
April 2nd, 2009 at 10:18 am
Thank you, TGM and TBL.
Your posts confirmed by ABC News thus:
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/04/02/2532751.htm
It was Financial Fools Day
For Her Mejestie it was
The Get Out The Jools Day.
A time to preen and prance
The Diplomatic Barn Dance.
The ambience
Remained unshattered.
The insouciant declared:
I’ll Take ROMANCE!
After dinner some felt like A Root
For none of them had got The Boot.
April 2nd, 2009 at 10:40 am
I am at the G-String 20 under cover, under the table.
April 2nd, 2009 at 1:42 pm
Here’s a character who can be interviewed on RN about randomness: Nassim Nicholas Taleb.
Thank you Bill – I was a little perplexed about your comments re ‘randomness’ before – NOW I understand.
Prof Taleb is big on how it’s the totally unexpected ‘random’ events that change things FOREVER.
Obvious parallels in the love stakes…..
There you are going about your business -maybe ordering a king prawn cultlet takeaway – and in walks a mysterious fella who winks at you….and the rest (including Family Court proceedings) is history.
Am I on the right track Bill re The Prof’s thingo? KJ.
April 2nd, 2009 at 3:39 pm
Dear KJ,
Even after decades have passed, I find this hard to write…..
When I was a kid in Leeton, there was a neighbourhood ‘club’ which you could join once you turned seven. It was called The Big Kids’ Club.
On the day of my seventh birthday, I fronted up (full of excitement) to one of the club heavies to present my credentials.
I was told that I was not welcome. THE BOOT or what?
Since then, I have never EVER applied for membership to any club.
April 2nd, 2009 at 3:47 pm
Dear Ex-Leetonite,
Hard to write AND hard to read……..
Why are kids SO very cruel……?
BUT you must move on, you MUST join a Club today.
I suggest you start with something NON-threatening…….Woolie’s Everyday Rewards or Video Ezy are my suggestions.
Let me know how you go.
*I was the first person in my family to go to Video Ezy. KJ.
April 2nd, 2009 at 4:09 pm
I have never seen knees like these….
Would you believe ‘footsies’ at G for G-String?
And hands that wander?
Why did I not bring the videocam?
The Rev Kev’s knees are worn from much prayerful kneeling as Churchman and Diplomat.
So are many other knees. Very worn, much in need of Botox.
But the Yanks’ knees are as smooth as Billy Madison.
They’ll tumble for ya, they’ll tumble for ya.
April 2nd, 2009 at 5:34 pm
He’s The Under the Table Top Man
Doing everything for you that he can
For your contentment a personal plan
He’s The Under the Table Top Man
He listens to chardonnay talk above
Concerning work, business and love
He’s The Under the Table Top Man
Doing everything for you that he can
He’s The Under the Table Top Man.
April 2nd, 2009 at 8:58 pm
Dear All,
Wot the hell – are you a bunch of Old Lefties gone, GONE…..?
I thought the topic was about THE BOO……
Yeah, will anyone on this site show some honesty? – ie: I’VE BEEN GIVEN THE BOOT.
Meanwhile, a perky Fanny is still blogging away even though the moderator has put her in the category of having Tourette’s Syndrome.
One more chance KJ?
Fanny.
Dear Fanny,
I’ve just gone out and bought 1000 chances for 36 prawn cultlets and a case of cherries – and you can have all of them……yes you can.
Now, on the matter of ‘themes’, I kick SOMETHING off and then people talk about anything that’s on their minds. We NEVER know where we’ll end up – and that’s very exciting…..
And if I understand correctly, Prof Nassim Nicolas Taleb thinks that’s the ONLY the way to proceed….
HOWEVER, if YOU have a graphic, on-the-ground personal report of a BOOTING, we would all be thrilled to hear about it.
KJ.
April 3rd, 2009 at 5:19 am
Good morning everyone……
How could this have slipped my mind, HOW could it?
Terrible, just terrible news, for our Riverina farmer Paul (aged 36) who was going great, just great on The Farmer Wants A Root.
Poor Paul. Narena said she loved him. She was going to move to Tarcutta (near Wagga). She would be the next Mrs Paul. They looked SO good together – SO good that the word was that Mr Smoothshanks was negotiating for them to be the face of RM Williams.
Then – on this week’s finale – DISASTER!
As Paul (with Narena nowhere to be seen) told the nation: We were going great guns up until a week ago and then she pulled the pin.
Australia’s BOOTEE Community is with you Paul. When you said: I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t work millions of heads nodded in unison throughout Australia.
Do spare a thought for BOOTEE Paul. KJ
April 3rd, 2009 at 10:39 am
Best place to start :
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fooled_by_Randomness
I wouldn’t normally endorse any particular expert on randomness but this bloke has a tie in with current events and more generally.
Thanks Bill. KJ.
April 3rd, 2009 at 11:18 am
If you get the bootee
You don’t have to buy bootees.
April 3rd, 2009 at 11:24 am
Dear Fanny,
No, NOT Old Lefties.
Rather….old leftovers, leftouts, losers, lovelorn, lesson learners, left behinders, lovers without lovers, late learners……
Dear The Dude – No, NO, NO!!!! You’re all bloody lovely Late Bloomers….KJ.
April 3rd, 2009 at 11:46 am
The Rev Kev,
Pleased be assured that red meat is NEVER served on our airline.
We have found that it arouses passions in both attendants and passengers.
In cabin crew served red meat, pilots have been known to attempt to break Vindication (it’s only a matter of time) Airway’s strict rule that the plane not rise more than a metre above the runway.
Some have even (God forbid) tried to take off.
Red meat only leads to broken hearts, as your airline attendant can testify between sobs.
I am glad you have told her that you are NOT PERFECT.
PS: We have crates of canned chicken and salmon from our World War II stockpile from the Leeton Cannery for emergencies.
* A borderline vegetarian PM WITH air rage tendencies. Sometimes I really DON’T know what makes some people tick….. KJ.
April 3rd, 2009 at 12:00 pm
So far, there are only chicken bones under this end of the table.
I am making a necklace of them for Angela as part of my Personal Contentment Plan for her.
April 3rd, 2009 at 12:01 pm
I am knitting a merkin for Merkel.
April 3rd, 2009 at 2:00 pm
My eight-year-old son has the largest collection of cardboard cylinder toilet paper holders in Australia.
I’m going to be giving him THE BOOT if he doesn’t get rid of them.
Dear Greek and loving it,
You MUST calm down and ask your boy what he will be using his cache for….KJ
April 3rd, 2009 at 5:20 pm
I must be down here in the only haven that is not a tax haven.
On The Top of Table everybody is talking about wanting to be stimulated, which is rather a challenge.
Under The Table Top it’s all knobbly knees
What is it about women, power and red coats?
Angela Merkel, my client, has one almost to her thighs.
April 3rd, 2009 at 5:28 pm
Is it worse or better if you are the bootee after the rootee?
April 4th, 2009 at 7:09 am
SOMEWHERE IN BRITAIN
Have moved into a disused bomb shelter – all I need is air raid warnings and Vera Lynn.
We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day……..
Breakfast has found a pal, a cat.
They sleep together.
I have called the cat Tiffany.
Breakfast with Tiffany.
April 4th, 2009 at 10:05 am
Under The Table Top Man,
Get out from under there IMMEDIATELY !
If the filth find you then you are on a hiding to nothing.
Do you want to be used for baton practice like this?
http://www.watoday.com.au/world/police-barricade-incites-violence-20090403-9oky.html
Get out immediately and join Breakfast, Tiffany and The Ginger Man in the bomb shelter
Buy a Vera Lynn song book in Soho on the way.
April 4th, 2009 at 10:08 am
SOMEWHERE IN BRITAIN
There are mushrooms growing in here.
Also eggs from the pigeons who shit on tourists.
This is an Absinthe-Free Zone.
Dear TGM,
Are you wearing a warden’s hat? KJ
April 4th, 2009 at 10:20 am
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merkin
The Oxford Companion to the Body dates the origin of the pubic wig back to 1450 and mentions the tale of one man that gave a cardinal of the Catholic Church a merkin that he had acquired from a prostitute and then combed and dried.
He claimed it was St. Peter’s beard.
HE WAS GIVEN THE BOOT!