Tags
Deestroygital By De Warrigal
We are currently on Althus 5 a planet that circles Merak a star in Ursa Major about 80 light years from Earth. It’s great to be on a planet after all that time in space. Althus 5 is a big planet with very few people. You see children are hard to have and women out number men by 10 to 1. The thing is that the men aren’t all that interested in sex and only do it at Christmas or birthdays and even then only if everything is in alignment with the Gods or should I say the God, Gordas. Gordas is the one god, the true god. I am the light, the truth and the way Gordas would say. Now you and I know that Gordas is really Gordon O’Donnell, the astrophysicist from another dimension but never let the truth get in the road of a good story.
Anyway Belinda and I are staying at Andy Smiths place, well actually they call him “Randy” Andy as he has had 3 children from 8 wives over 10 years. Randy’s two head wives, Zig and Zag, take Belinda to the cricket as on Althus 5 generally only women go to the games and only women play cricket. If men go they are treated like sex symbols and are constantly taunted and many have numerous sexual propositions put to them like “Nice buns honey, is that a gun in your pocket, wanna come home with me baby for a good time” and other rude suggestions.
I get to go out with the “boys” to have my nails done, a hair appointment then coffee and croissants then off to a bloke flick staring Grew Hant. As I am walking down the street with the “boys” I suddenly realise how good cricket is. I mean I can take a few taunts and the idea of seeing a Grew Hant movie is turning my stomach over. I make a feeble excuse like “I’ve got a headache” and jump a cab to the ground.
After a few wolf whistles, a couple of pinches on the bum and some business cards stuffed in my G King undies I join the girls in the stand. “So you came after all Sandy?” says Zig suggestively. “Oh yes, love my cricket” I lie brilliantly, “Silly mid on in already?” I announce informatively to which the girls laugh, “No” says Zag “this is the pre game entertainment” causing all around to know that I am the Sergeant Schultz of cricket and that ‘I know nuthink’.
Just as the boredom of a whole day at the cricket smacks me in the face my phone rings. Saved by the bell, for zark sake. . It’s Catherine the central computer “Sandy we’ve got company, you and young Bel better get back fast”. As disappearing in public is against space protocol we go around to the back of the grandstand and insert a finger in our mouths. See when you get a SPIT, Small Personal Interplanetary Teleporter, in goes into your mouth on the inside of the cheek. The SPIT reads you as a list of particles, decodes you then transports you to the responder and reassembles you instantly. This is a great and complex piece of fiction.
We enter Henry’s room. Henry is the navigational computer. “Sandy, a message is coming in as a hologram from the Captain of the ICCB destroyer Enterprise Bargaining” Henry relates rather nervously.
The hologram appears. Yuk. It’s some form of mental man with a laser cannon sticking out of his head and a cricket bat in his hand “Salutations, My name is Captain Ion Chappell of the ICCB first XI, please be prepared to die, your ship is about to be blown to smithereens and I want to watch it burn, eradicate, eradicate…..”
I can hear voices in my head, its Dad, he’s calling me “Use the farce Luke, er, um, oops, sorry, Sandy, use the farce”. “I think you will find that it’s exterminate, exterminate” I say stupidly and with that the farce takes the 38B into a deep spiral exit manoeuvre and out to the other side of the star. Using the forces of the star and being hidden it then closes in on the rear of the destroyer. Belinda pipes in “Fire when ready I think the saying is” with which a laser cannon fires hitting the IUD and blowing it out of the sky, if there was one. Gee, some things is space just never cease to amaze me.
Julian said:
Meanwhile back on Earth.
At his meeting with Queen Elizabeth recently, Kevin Rudd turned to the Queen and said: “As I’m the Prime Minister, I’m thinking of changing how my great country is referred to, and I’m thinking that it should be a Kingdom.”
The Queen replied, “I’m sorry Mr Rudd, but to be a Kingdom, you have to have a King in charge – and you’re not a King.”
Kevin Rudd thought a while and then said: “How about a Principality then?”
To which the Queen replied, “Again, to be a Principality you have to be a Prince – and you’re not a Prince, Mr. Rudd.”
Rudd thought long and hard and came up with “How about an Empire then?”
The Queen, getting a little annoyed by now, replied : “Sorry again, Mr Rudd, but to be an Empire you must have an Emperor in charge – and you are not an Emperor.”
Before Rudd could utter another word, The Queen said: “I think you’re doing quite nicely as a Country.”
LikeLike
Julian said:
Just found a referenceon the web. And actually reminds me that I had made a reference on Gerard’s blog about mods and scooters.
Rod Stewart’s group was formed after this of course.
Pasted in:
“The Small Faces were the best English band never to hit it big in America. On this side of the Atlantic, all anybody remembers them only for is their sole stateside hit, “Itchycoo Park” — but in England, The Small Faces were one of the most extraordinary and successful bands of the mid-’60s; their music remains some of the most valuable and enjoyable of the era.
Lead singer/guitarist Steve Marriott’s formal background was on the stage; as a young teenager, he’d auditioned and won the part of the Artful Dodger in the Lionel Bart musical +Oliver Marriott was earning his living at a music shop when he made the acquaintance of Ronnie Lane (bass, backing vocals), who had formed a band called the Pioneers, which included drummer Kenney Jones. Lane invited Marriott to jam with the Pioneers at a show they were playing at a local club — the gig was a disaster, but out of that show the group decided to turn their talents toward American RB. The band — with Marriott now installed permanently and Jimmy Winston recruited on organ — cast its lot with a faction of British youth known as the mods, stylish posers who, among their other attributes, affected a dandified look and a fanatical love of American RB. The quartet, now christened The Small Faces…. (“face” being a piece of mod slang for a fashion leader)……, began making a name for themselves on-stage, sparked by the group’s no-holds-barred performance style.”
LikeLike
Julian said:
Additionally, I knew Kenney Jones from my days in The King’s Rd.
He had a son about the same age as mine…mmm..the years have past.
He took over from Keith Moon after he karked it.
LikeLike
Mirriyuula said:
In my fantasies I’m called Ronnie too and I play the third guitar in that line up.
It appears, yet again J, that we share a lot in common.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Ronnie Lane did a good album with Pete Townsend called Rough Mix
LikeLike
Mirriyuula said:
Yeah.
I loved “Till The Rivers All Run Dry”.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
What about the one “He was caught telling lies again….
LikeLike
Mirriyuula said:
I don’t know that one.
LikeLike
astyages said:
Great story Hung… and a beautiful pic of a cricketing Dalek from Warrigal!
🙂
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Thanks mate, did you say Gibson SG?
LikeLike
astyages said:
I did indeed… a genuine SG Gibson too! Humbucking pickups and everything! She’s a beaut and sounds fantastic, too!
🙂
LikeLike
Mirriyuula said:
“This is a great and complex piece of fiction.”
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
WM, we actually got to the cricket ground.
LikeLike
Warrigal said:
I see that’s the the third time that particular piece of praise has been thrown in.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Yes, I like it because it is so fundamentally flawed
LikeLike
Julian said:
Reading all the fruity references and pretending not to know who the writer is, I have come to the conclusion that you must be Hung!!
Where do we get these SPITS. They sound useful. As long as they don’t get in the way of a good cheese soufflé.
LikeLike
Julian said:
Of course you won’t know Hung, if you don’t have Foxtel.
LikeLike
Julian said:
Absolute unadulterated bollocky claptrap.
If you look back I’m sure that it was in response to something that you misspelt.
I’ll look it up one day. When I remember where it is.
Shit I hate this hot weather. Just got back from walking the dogs.
It’s pool for me! Omly face!
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Or omlys JL?
LikeLike
Algernon said:
Mushroom omlys?
LikeLike
Julian said:
Ha ha. You have an elephant’s memory.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
With ‘erbs I think the reply was.
We got a lot of mileage out of that one Algy
LikeLike
Algernon said:
And still do Hung
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Interestingly Algy, the n and the m are next to each other on the keyboard. Was JL hungry or did he make a typo?
LikeLike
Julian said:
Oops, I should have been here Omly.
LikeLike
Algernon said:
What’s an omly face.
LikeLike
Julian said:
Hi Algy,
Remember Rod Stewart and The Faces. Well a face was just London vernacular for a guy who fitted in – sort of one of the mob- and it morphed into variables that were throwaway comments.
“Is he a face?” “Yeh he’s alright.”
On might say ‘wotsis face’ instead of what’s is name.
It could be liked to a job, or a foible even.
I’m trying to think of an example in this forum. I suppose one could say ‘GM face’ for Maddie or ‘IT face’ for VoR.
It is not always derogatory; in fact often endearing- and often in the third person.
It could also change. It might be linked to something in the present like omly, or it could stick for life. A good flexible word……IE, I saw old ‘dingo face’, for WM.
Regards King’s Rd Face.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Hey he has stolen my psuedo
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Thanks ato, yes I seem to excel at stupidity. Is there a message in that?
LikeLike
atomou said:
“This is a great and complex piece of fiction.”
Brilliant, HOO, simply brilliant!
I keep thinking Blade Runner, what’s his name? Sandy? No, Rick, that’s right, Rick Deckard. I keep thinking Rick will go spinning past my face any minute… or rather his drop dead gorgeous replicant -what was her name again, Belinda? No Rachel, I think!
The make up job they had done on that lady was… transformational! Sean Young, I remember, looked nothing like her in real life.
I must have taught that book and movie to at least a dozen classes. Good evey time, though. Kids came out with new thoughts every time.
Good one, Hungy!
LikeLike