My hovercraft is full of eels.


Nugget sounds off
Hi sports fans! What the hell are you doing here? You're at the wrong blog! Sport bores me.
Except for boxing and naked oiled women wrestling but that's somewhere else, like over there! (won't be a tic)
Now where were we?
Two entries in one today, first off: My two cents worth.
Australians who get caught in a big force five Hurricane in another country complain because their government didn't do enough to get them out. Just so you lovely people who read this blog from other countries know...we dissown these mooks...or I do.

Oh, of course, Australia will just charge into the United States with the Westpac Rescue Helicopter and pluck their precious little souls out of that nasty place!? What a hide these people have! You can't even get into the US with a metal belt buckle and a checked western shirt with mother of pearl studs on let alone have a foreign power just waltz in because our leaders giggle at the same jokes!

`But journalist's got in and rescued them easily?' I hear you say despite the blood and broken teeth in your mouth. Yes they did. And what are journalist's? They're cockroaches! And nothing, not even nuclear war stops them, so of course they're going to find a way in, they can't help it! They smelt fresh blood. Remember that scene in Finding Nemo when Bruce the shark's eyes glaze over when he gets a whiff of blood? That's what happened collectively in the newsrooms of Channels Nine and Seven when they realized there were (sniff) Aussies! OUR AUSSIES! TRAPPED LIKE RATS IN A HELL HOLE! We have to save them! (And get the story before anyone else)Pfffft!

Governments are bound by a silly little thing called soverenity of state which means you don't go in unless you have permission. And it's foreign soil...and the United States! Reality check here. These guys are the king of the school ground, we still have to be polite. Remember, this is the real world, not a movie (I can't believe I just wrote that).



My Hingleesh ees goot. I learned it frum a book.
I found this story today over at Boing Boing. It's a phrase book from 1883 which is apparently famous for being the worst phrase book ever written. According to the site it would seem the original author didn't know English at all and had copied down a French to English phrase book and somehow got it published. You can have a look at it for yourselves here. My favorites on a quick glance are:

He has spit in my coat.
Take that boy and whip him to much.
Dress my horse.
This room is filled of bugs.
Dress your hairs.
It is a noise which to cleave the head.
Which like Bertram, love hir dog.
and finally...
You come too rare.

It's funny cause it's true.