Friday Frolyks

I just thought I’d get an open thread up for the weekend for any general discussions that anyone wants to have.

I will be busy over at Blog Renovations – my next task is trying to get the logo sorted out.

Haveagoodone everyone.

Friday Frolkyz!!


Good afternoon and welcome to Friday Frolykz – our end of the working week – beginning of the weekend thread!

I have to rush, so this is just a quick post, and Joni has already gone to the pub.

toodle pip!


I was going to start today’s Frolykz post with the question “Are young people today just as thick as shit or what?” And then launch into this spiel about a simple task I have given to two (count them two) office juniors which basically involved assembling a kit of information and sending a copy of the kit to 25 managers in other States.

Ordinarily one might think that this would be a relatively straightforward task, but realising that the junior that had been allocated to me to assist with the task looked a bit “challenged” on the common sense front, I enlisted someone else to help.

That was at about 11.00am this morning. I mentioned that each pack would need to go out in today’s Express post and that it was very important and urgent.

Well bugger me, here we are at 3.00pm and the office juniors are squabbling amongst themselves and complaining that they don’t have enough time to do it!! Of course they had to take their obligatory one hour lunch break rather than focus on completing the task at hand.

What part of very important and urgent don’t people understand???!!!!!!



Hello !!

Good afternoon and welcome to Friday Frolykz – our end of the working week – beginning of the weekend thread.

Well the big news of the week, of course, is that Farrah Fawcett has snuffed it. Coincidentally at about the same time as that lesser known celebrity Michael Jackson. Which once again, and quite rightly, raises the question “Is this a government cover up?”

Frankly, I think not, but there are remarkable similarities which could indicate otherwise. For one thing they both looked old and scraggy and enjoyed quaffing back ketamine with Michael’s favourite party tipple “Jesus Juice.”
Therefore, it would be quite logical and perfectly reasonable to reach the conclusion that Michael Jackson and Farah Fawcett were indeed one and the same person. For one thing, they were never seen on stage together and they both had interchangeable wigs.

But of course this is a preposterous idea, as we all know that Michael Jackson was also in fact Elizabeth Taylor and Bette Davis at the same time. Which is quite an accomplishment in itself when you think about the logistics involved.

A number of bloggers have remarked that Michael’s departure was rather pedestrian and not really suitably sensational enough for an international pop star.

For sure, who wouldn’t want to die in a plane crash, or perish in a burst of flames as your red mustang fails to negotiate a winding road and careers over a hundred foot cliff at two hundred miles an hour.

But sadly, some people are born to simply, collapse dead on the couch, with the remote control casually slipping from their grasp, as they murmur something about “ffuurth fuckkerth” with saliva drooling down their shirt, all the while slowly disintegrating to the closing credits of Home and Away.

And then there’s drowning in a pool of your own vomit. A style of demise that happened to a friend of mine after skulling a bottle Captain Morgan rum. What a gracious way to go, I thought. At least he had the foresight to put himself in the “recovery position” before slipping into unconsciousness, however unfortunately, this wasn’t sufficient to save him. So much for that first aid course they taught us at school, which by the way, I managed to fail.

Another favourite is to die while “on the job” which isn’t, as the name may suggest, dying at your place of employment, but rather dying with your face slumped somewhere on the keyboard between “F” and “C” . Personally I don’t favour this approach, and rather like the idea of being the admiral on a sinking ship shouting to the passengers and crew “Don’t worry about me! Save yourselves! Save yourselves!”

Of course this is a highly unlikely scenario, given that I’m not an admiral, and I don’t own a ship.

So it’s more likely that I’ll simply step of the curb in front of bus while trying to cross the road at half four in the morning, pissed, while looking for a kebab.

Anyway, on that note happy weekend…

UPDATE: Thanks to James of North Melbourne for sending in this pic of him in the bathtub (but it wasn’t really necessary)…

Friday Frolykz

Hi everyone,

I’ve opened up the shop early today, cos I’ll be flying off to Melbourne shortly to attend the Blogocrats Pty Ltd inaugural meeting of WCPs.

Actually I’ll be going to see the Salvidor Dali exhibition, Wicked and have dinner at George the Car Thief’s restaurant The Press Club.

In breaking news, Federal Treasurer Wayne Swan has accused Sir Malcolm Turnbull of threatening a government staffer. Can’t wait to find out more of the juicey details on that one!

There’s also a bit of hoo-ha going on about how Prime Minister Kev was part of a now “mysterious” and sinister group called “club 51.”

Sounds like a bit of an S&M club. I wonder if Alexander Downer’s a member?

Speaking of men behaving badly, liberal staffer Anthony Scrinis has also fallen on his sword after feeling up a number of women’s breasts at Parliament’s mid-winter ball. Apparantly he was seen floundering about the dance floor staggering from boob to boob.

One woman claimed that when she told him he couldn’t touch her breasts, he replied: “Well if I can’t grab your boobs I’m going to go grab someone else’s.” Before that, Mr Scrinis was heckling the speeches and comedians.

What a class act!

On another note, it looks like we’re on our way to half a million hits! Who would’ve thunk it??

Remember to check out Tom’s Footy preview and Scaper has a guest post on an Alternative ETS strategy…



Friday Frolykz

Hello! Hello!!

Good afternoon and welcome to Friday Frolykz! Our end of the working week – beginning of the weekend thread.

I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves.

Now, for those of you that think I’m a complete pisshead, I’ll have you know that I haven’t had a glass of anything containing alcohol – well except for listerine – for OVER ONE WEEK!

That’s quite an accomplishment where I’m from.

Interestingly, Catalyst the other night reckons that scientists have identified a gene known as “the A1 gene” that can determine whether you’re going to be the sort of person that can enjoy a standard glass of wine with your meal, or whether you’re going to gag that standard glass back in two seconds and be on to your second bottle of wine within twenty minutes.

I think I must have the A1 gene coming out of my arse. Speaking of which I’ve recently discovered Yahoo “Answers.”

Have you seen it? It’s camp.

It’s basically like a message board where people can ask questions and others can answer them, with the best answer receiving a reward in “points” from the proponent of the question.

The other day I stumbled across this question from a young guy who was asking “why don’t chicks (sic) dig anal sex?”

After thinking about this for a moment I suggested that he ought to try shoving a medium sized carrot up his arse to find out the answer to his own question in a practical manner.

Well blow me over with a feather! He said my answer was the best one and invited me ’round to his place where an assortment of zucchini shaped vegetables were going to be on offer.

Although humbled, I graciously declined. Vegetables aren’t really my thing.

Now how did I get onto that?

Oh and another thing, while there’s some good TV on at the moment (Moving Wallpaper, The Tracey Ullman Show and the Graham Norton Show) to name but a few, one show I won’t be watching tonight is “The Perfect Vagina” on SBS. However I imagine a few of the boys here might be tempted to tune in.

I’ll expect a full report on my desk first thing in the morning. But please spare us the gruesome details..

Hip Hip!

Never Mind The Frolykz, here’s Weekend Wonderland!

Howdy Cats!

How’s it hanging..?

Speaking of which. It looks like the star of the 70’s TV show “Kung Fu” and “Kill Bill” David Carradine has snuffed it, apparently due to some bizarrre “sex act” gone wrong. He was found hanging by the neck and the nuts in the cupboard of some hotel room in Thailand.

Now it might just be me, but the idea of getting trussed up like a chook and dangling yourself in a cupboard for a few hours isn’t exactly my idea of “a good time.” But I suppose it takes all sorts. Carradine leaves behind 5 ex-wives and God knows how many pebbles.

On a personal note, I’m really getting into the routine of bringing my own lunch to work. Each day heralds the promised excitement of some hastily assembled concoction – usually consisting of some components of last night’s dinner mixed with whatever sauce that happens to be in the fridge that has the consistency of anything runnier than the primary substance of last night’s dinner.

Today, for example was a rather stodgy game sausage sandwich with grilled cheese smothered in gallons of barbeque sauce. Which by all accounts, tasted better than it sounds. Another ten bucks saved – ka-Ching!

“You can’t kill the duck?”

This is the question I’ve just emailed to a farming couple that we were meant to be having dinner with this Saturday. On the menu was supposedly a roast duck from their own duck squadron, flock, or battalion, or whatever you call a collection of ducks.

But they’ve just informed me that they can’t bring themselves to kill the duck. Apparantly killing chickens is not so bad, according to our farmer friends, but ducks, so we’re being lead to believe have little personalities.

I can’t say I blame them mind you, seeing as I doubt I could manage to kill a chicken never mind a duck.

So I guess we’ll be having roast tofu in orange sauce instead.

Anyway, unlike some of the public servants around here, I’ve got work to do, so I shall wish you all a happy weekend with this joyful little number..