Category Archives: Mark

Foodge Escapes from Buntings

03 Thursday Jun 2021

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

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You know, if they told me I was going to appear so much I would have charged more…

Foodge Escapes from Buntings

Written by Mark

Foodge was sitting in the foyer of the court house rolling a durry, well with tobacco and some other funny green stuff. O’Hoo was busy talking to some official over at the counter. Foodge was in deep thought mode, why am I here, why was I born, what is my first name and you know all those things that race through you mind in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.

“O’Hoo, hoo were you talking two” speaking phonetically so O’Hoo wouldn’t understand, asks Foodge as he deeply inhales on his durry.

“Clark, I think his name was, no Clark Cell, a standard primary cell producing 1.4328 volts at 15 degrees C which consists of a mercury cathode and a zinc amalgam anode both dipping into a saturated solution of zinc sulphate” says O’Hoo.

Oh fuck off thinks Foodge. Never ask a simpleton a question that you don’t know the answer too. “Anyway pass us the scotch”. Foodge is discombobulated now(thanks Gerard, my spell checker doesn’t know it still, after all this time).

Come here lad, have a whiskey…

“Where’s the press throng?” asks Foodge as he inhales deeply on his durry. Oh yes, South Sea Islands Scotch sure does taste good in the morning.

O’Hoo runs out of the foyer onto the front steps of the court house and spy’s a group of school kids passing by on an excursion or just running away from their teachers. O’Hoo approaches them and says “Look kids, I understand that this is a kid friendly web page but can you pretend to be from the media, you know asking questions, pointing microphones and taking pictures when my mate come out from the court?”

“Um, yeah, um, yeah, okay mate! Wot’s in it for us?” says a little smart arse in the front row.

“Sausage sizzle, with fried onions and tomato sauce, all round at Buntings, oh on white bread, nothing healthy” blurts O’Hoo relating to the inner psyche of the modern generation.

“Yep, wheeze in” says the smart arse.

Foodge stumbles out of the court to face the “media throng”.

“Mr Foodge, what have you got to say about the court case?” says the smart arse kid who is getting way too much media attention.

“Well” replies Foodge “ I can’t say anything while the case is in front of the court”

“Well that’s only literally, not metaphorically”. The smart arse kid is really stating to grate and you can fucking well spell that how you want to and I’m the author.

“No more comments from me except to say the chicken schnitzel on Monday night with mushroom gravy is to die for.”

Hmm, Tastes like chicken…

O’Hoo pulls up in the Zephyr. “You drive Foodge. We are being followed. I’ve read the script”

“But I’m pissed and stoned”

“Doesn’t matter we’re fictional and anyway Gordon will get us off any charges.”

Foodge accerlates the Zephyr down the boulevard. O’Hoo jumps into the back seat and smashes out the back window.

“Why did you do that for? Emmjay will be really pissed that we went over budget.”

“I’ll get a better shot this way. Keep speeding, we are being followed by the FBI, the CIA, ASIO and worst of all the CWA” cried O’Hoo as he lets fly a few salvo’s out of the recently renovated rear window.

Foodge dodges and swerves through the back streets of Inner Cyberia as O’Hoo fires indiscriminately out the back window, trying to take care to hit any one at any time.

The FBI and ASIO cars go down when the CIA call O’Hoo on a two way radio that he didn’t know he was carrying up until now.

“Wheeze hungry” says the CIA goon.

Stop, I’m from the CIA, no the CIB, no the CIC, no the CID…

“Take the next left and into the McJacks drive through” says O’Hoo thinking he should have added and extra T and said thought. So many questions so little time.

Everyone is going through the drive through, try saying that after a few drinks but the CWA ladies want a Fillet-O-Fish so wheeze is all held up. Wears the pleece when yous want them. Don’t you just love phonetics.

The race continues but O’Hoo is a bit too sharp for his opposition and quickly takes out the CIA car as they munch on their McJacks. The CWA are a different story. O’Hoo fires another round of high powered tracer bullets into their car from loaded magazines thanks to granny, an eternal pacifist. Don’t you love her. Peace man.

O’Hoo and Foodge drive into the car park at the Pigs Arms with the Zephyr looking in bad shape with bullet holes and smashed windows, however Foodge won’t budge until he has finished his Big McWhopper, fries and slushie. “Let’s get the fuck out of here” screams O’Hoo as he finishes his chicken burger and Coke drink.

Apparently it’s a restaurant

Foodge and O’Hoo run into the bar avoiding eye contact with Emmjay. Big M and Algernon cock there weapons and the three sisters, Yvonne, Barbara and Shoe just keep studying the form guide, totally disinterested in the shenanigans. The CWA drive straight through the front doors and get out of their car opening fire with their weapons. Big M, Algernon and O’Hoo return fire and bullets are flying everywhere.

Meanwhile back in the kitchen granny is really peeved. Emmjay walks through the fire fight into the kitchen and says to granny “Lets have a bake off so we can stop this madness.”

Granny walks into the bar and yells “Stop. Stop now.” Funnily enough everyone stops. “Lets have a scone bake off to sort this out.”

All the cooks head out to the kitchen and start cooking. Scones, cream and jam are served to everyone. Hmm, all taste great. Granny says “Well, what was this agro all about?”

“Dunno” says the lady from the CWA.

“Baby, what baby” cries Foodge.

Foodge versus Buntings

24 Saturday Apr 2021

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

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Foodge and whiskey go hand in hand…

Written by Mark

Foodge was feeling pensive, no apprehensive, no nervous and a little ill as he had just taken a long swig from a pocket flask with South Seas Blue Label scotch that O’Hoo just happened to have in his jacket pocket. This was his day in court after being kicked out of Buntings for wearing his pant bulger.

“I rang the clerk of the court last night to find out who the Judge is” says O’Hoo “ It’s genitalia”

“Genitalia is your private parts, you know your dingle dongle” replies Foodge.

“Here look, I writ in down”

“That’s Jenny Taylor not genitalia. You have a one track mind O’Hoo and Judge Jenny has her own television show, you know, on one of those channels that no one watches.”

“Here, drink this” as O’Hoo passes the flask as he steers the Zephyr down the main boulevard to the court house “and granny has put a couple of semi-automatic rifles plus extra ammo in the back seat just in case we need a fast get away. Isn’t she a sweetie.”

Hmm, thinks Foodge, neatly doing away with the need for apostrophes saving the author extra typing. What have I got myself into. Well if anything at least it makes a good story. Gee this South Seas Island Blue Label tastes great as the scotch kicks in.

“Park here” cries Foodge.

“It says no parking and we wouldn’t want to encourage kiddies to break the law now would we.” replies O’Hoo desperate to get more screen time.

Hmm, thinks Foodge, since when has O’Hoo developed a conscience. At least Judge Jenny will give us a fair trial and with the extra whiskey Foodge’s confidence is growing.

Judge Jenny addresses the court “Ladies and Gentleman we are gathered here today to join this loving couple in matrimony, oops, that was the last case, anyway we are gathered here today to hear the case of Foodge versus Buntings for personal and professional damages. Mr Foodge a poor downtrodden man who not only has lifted himself off the floor of the Pigs Arms to prop up the baa to being appointed to the baa of the legal profession. Versus Buntings, a mutlibillion dollar international conglomerate that steps on anyone to get their own way. The poor downtrodden Mr Foodge is naturally representing himself and for Buntings Mr Blah Blah.” The groans are palpable, this guy can talk under water with a mouth full of pebbles.

Mr Blah Blah kicks off “Well ma’am, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. I refer you to your book of documents ma’am 1 A, B and C. A being the story written by Big M with B and C being statements from the sales attendants. We plead not guilty.”

Foodge gets thrown out of Buntings https://pigsarms.com.au/2021/03/31/foodge-gets-thrown-out-of-buntings/

Foodge replies “No dispute from me ma’am however I do have a witness who was standing behind me in the queue. I call Private Road.”

Private Road takes the stand and swears and oath “I swear to tell the whole truth nothing but truth so help me Gordon O’Donnell, oh and maybe a few porkies, just kidding.”

Judge Jenny points the pointer, now now…

Judge Jenny intervenes “Are you in the Army?”

“No ma’am”

“So what is your first name?”

“Well it’s private ma’am”

Hmm, thinks Judge Jenny “Well yes when my husband and I go for a weekend drive in the country we can see you are very popular.”

“Ma’am, I would like to question my witness, with you leave.” interjects Foodge as he senses this episode is getting away from him. “Can you tell the court what you witnessed on that day being the 31st June 1904?”

“Well yes. Big M’s story and the attendant statements are all true however Mr Foodge here wasn’t doing anything wrong, he simply had his pant bulger in place. I was standing behind him with two of the same. You see ma’am I have Micropenile encephalopathy, colloquially called small dick brain however the medical fraternity refer to it as MP’s. I had two pant bulgers in my hand when security guards pounced on Mr Foodge and threw him out and he didn’t even get a sausage from the sausage sizzle.”

“Yes well, Mr Foodge, what are you seeking in damages?” asks Judge Jenny.

“Well ma’am ten million Inner Cyberia Dollars and free sausage sizzle on white bread with onions and tomato sauce for the rest of my days.” replies Foodge.

“Order granted, case upheld. All damages accepted. Court costs to be paid by Buntings seeing you sell pant bulgers. Just one last question Mr Foodge, what does a pant bulger do?”

“Well it makes you appear more attractive to the opposite sex, not that I would ever tell granny that, by giving the impression that you are well endowed ma’am.”

The packed gallery went wild.

Hooray yippee, the excitement is overwhelming

Mrs O’Way is Aggro

30 Tuesday Mar 2021

Posted by in Mark

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Mrs O’Way, the most beautiful girl in the universe

“I’ve had enough of this shit” roars Mrs O’Way, whose first name is Belinda by the way. Belinda is the the little sister of Glenda from Glenda’s Pain and Torture Clinic, just down the road and around the corner from the Pigs Arms. “The Fictional Characters Union has just amalgamated with the Characters Fictional Union to become the FUCU(Fictional Union of Characters United) and we’ve become the laughing stock as now everyone is referring to us as fuck you.”

“Merv, pour me a double South Sea Island Blue Label and are you fictional or real?” she demands.

“I think I’m real, no hang on a minute, that’s right I’m fictional but a union member of FUCU” replies Merv.

“So fuck you” says Mrs O’Way.

The rest is real or maybe…

“ Hello, look author here. I’m not into this swearing stuff so please close your eyes when you are reading some rude words. Anyway kiddies may be watching.” says Mark from the commentary box.

“So hands up, who here is real?” demands Mrs O’Way. A limp response is recorded. “What about fictional?” same sort of reply.

“Are there any cats here we can shoot?” asks Algernon.

“Hope so” replies Big M. “Anyone seen Mother O’Way?”

“STFU Big, do you want Gordon to zap our brains out?” cries Algernon.

“What brains would that be?” Big M replies. Good point thinks Algernon.

“Look I used to be real till I came across the Pigs Arms” says Sister Yvonne.

#Metoo say the girls, oh boy, I can see a movement happening.

“Now, now, lets just all keep this in Perspex” says janowrite out of left field.

“Drinks on the house” says Merv trying to avoid a disaster, “did you mean perspective jano?”

“Probably but a South Seas Blue Label will do me” janowrite struggles at this point to attempt to see what’s happening in this story but you are in it now, bad stinking luck, just ask Sister Yvonne.

“Where’s my Sandy” cries Mrs O’Way, oops I mean Belinda.

“Well sorry love but he’s down at the dress shop”

“You’re not allowed to say that Merv otherwise Gordon will zap our brains out, hey there’s a cat” says Algernon in a timely fashion as only he can do.

Big M and Algernon open fire with their shotguns and unfortunately after open heart surgery the cat dies. Snigger, snigger. Oh well, that’s how it goes, snigger, snigger.

Mrs O’Way, oops, sorry, Belinda, belts the boys around the head with an umbrella.

“Where did that come from Belinda?”

“Out of the props section, they have lots of things in there, even dildos”

“Yeah I can see a #catkiller movement starting as well, lucky I’m smart” says someone unnamed form the FUCU. Is that you Hung?

“Not me, I’d never say something rude or smart, I’m a nurse you know and us nurses never are rude or swear or are smart aren’t we.”

Trust me, I’m a nurse, my name is Mark…

Some History

07 Sunday Feb 2021

Posted by in Mark

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My old home town

This is where I grew up. The photo was taken in 1904. So if you take 1904 from 2021 you get twenty five. Makes me 26 this year. That’s right isn’t it Algy?

As you can see, transport hasn’t changed and the big building on the corner is the Ryan’s Hotel which meant getting to the pub was much harder than getting home. My brother-in-law and I can attest to this on many occasions.

The Illawarra Escarpment hasn’t changed a dickie bird whereas me and my brother-in-law have.

The town is called Thirroul which means “easy to pub, hard to get home” in the local lingo and in the late 1880’s everyone spoke French so the locals knew that then.

The roads are still shit and now traffic lights are needed to control the flow of horse drawn buggies. Gee how things have changed.

Beam me up Scottie…

The Bishop is Worried

25 Friday Dec 2020

Posted by in Mark

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I think I better go to the pub. That’s where Father O’Way is and that’s how I, Bishop Bishop, come into the story. If you don’t know the story about me then look through the archives under the Church of St. Generic Brand or something like that. I’m really famous, or so I think.

So anyway I digress, which is the only thing that I’m good at. I’m called the Bish for some reason that escapes me but I’ll drop into the Window Dressers Arms Pig and Whistle. Boy Big M, does that increase the word count or wot.

I ask some questions “Where is Father O’Way? Why am I doing this? Is Valium really that bad? Can I have a pint of best with a whiskey chaser? So many questions so little time.”

Merv pours a beer and some whiskey for me but he doesn’t speak so he doesn’t have to include inverted commas and the he says she said bit in the next part of this dialogue. Thank Gordon for spelling correctors. It also cuts down on paragraphs.

Sister’s Yvonne and Barbara levitated onto their stools. “Pink drinks all round ” said Sister Yvonne who hadn’t learn the lesson from the above paragraph where it’s better not to say much so there’s a lot less typing. Get the picture.

“Is your stool satisfactory Sister Barbara?”

“Yes, more than satisfactory I would say Sister Yvonne” helping get the word count up.

Meanwhile Algernon and Big M sat on their usual stools with their shotguns loaded just in case a cat happened to come through the door. One can only hope.

Did the GPS say 500 metres left or right to Parramatta Road…

I says to Merv “You look rah,rah,rah, um stuffed” ignoring my own advice on inverted commas.

Didn’t you read Meet Mervette thinks Merv, oh good boy, he knows the rules.

Where’s Sandy I think.

Well he can go home now seeing I’m back behind the bar thinks Merv.

Gee, isn’t it good when you think things through. Gordon will be pleased.

Merv thinks I need another beer and whiskey chaser. This is getting better by the minute.

Parrot Fish

29 Thursday Oct 2020

Posted by in Mark

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I feel sorry for the parrot fishes! Yes this fish can be eaten, but for us divers this is a big No No!!! There are important reasons why we should not eat them and we should educate the fishermen to stop catching these beautiful fish! Please do spare them … the ocean needs them to regenerate. Read below to be educated. They’re lots of fish you can catch in the sea. They can sell and cook the other fish, but leave the parrot fish!

Here is why: (c&p from the web)
 

Parrotfish eat algae and dead coral*. They spend up to 90% of their day nibbling. In other words, they clean the reef. This is important because most of the reefs across the tropics are being smothered by algae because there are not enough parrotfish and other herbivores out there grazing.

After all that eating, get this: They poop fine white sand – lots of it! Each parrotfish produces up to 320 kilograms (700 pounds) of sand each year.

Their numbers are so depleted, and algae levels are so high, that they cannot be fished sustainably right now anywhere in the Caribbean. These flamboyant, algae-eating, sand-pooping fish need to be left in the water. And when they are left to chomp away, they do a brilliant job. A massive new report concludes that reefs where parrotfish were abundant in the 1980s are the reefs that are healthy now.

There is a reason for their existence so please let’s not eat them … To our Govt. Please educate our fishermen… Say no to catching parrot fish! Let’s not buy parrot fish so they won’t catch them anymore.

Please share..

Kangaroo Court

18 Sunday Oct 2020

Posted by in Mark

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Kangaroos hop down my street every day or so. They eat your lawn, veggie patch and anything else that takes their fancy. They are environmentally friendly and let vegetation regenerate. 

The king kangaroo would stand at over two metres high and would kill you if you got too close. People around here hate them and will shoot them at any opportunity. Dickheads around here love to run them down in their four wheel drives, makes me sick at times. Roadkill, what for? Fucking nothing. 

I can’t eat them as once I got really sick but the details are gory so I won’t go into it except to say that it wasn’t the kangaroo steak that made me sick.

When it’s drought I leave water out for them but I don’t tell my neighbours as the shotguns would come from me. They eat so little compared to sheep and cattle. It’s the sheep and cattle that are ruining the river flats.

In the last week I’ve seen, snakes, turtles, roos, echidnas, wallabies and goannas. After 35 years in Adelaide I’m now the lucky one. I can look outside my side door and watch Rosellas, King Parrots, Major Mitchells, White Cockies, Wheat Birds, Kookaburras and have Sea Eagles, Owls, Hawks and other birds that stay high up in the gum trees. The only bird I don’t like is the Koel bird that has an awful cry and is a cuckoo. The Koel bird comes down from Indonesia each summer and is a pain in the arse. Lays it’s eggs in the nest of honey eaters. The hatched chick eats the other eggs in the nest then keeps the parents feeding it till it flies home. 

If I go down to the headland and can see whales going up and down the coast depending on the time of year, dolphins surfing and the local creek has flathead, bream, ducks and pelicans.

Geez, I’m lucky and I never realised it.

Written and authorised by Mark at a town near you.

Merv meets no Name

12 Saturday Sep 2020

Posted by in Mark, Merv

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Did you say root darling?

Written by Mark

Hello, Merv here or hear, whatever you like. Never been one for correctness. Anyhoo this geeza walks into the bar the other day. This is what happened.

“Gidday mate” replied in my normal friendly but neutral composure.

“Yeah mate, I’m here for the job” says this geeza.

“So what job was that?”

“An exciting new character at the Pigs Arms Hotel. Here, I was sent by the agency, the Fictional Characters Union, all the paper work is here.”

“So, what’s your name then?”  being always on the lookout for a scam.

“Um, dunno. They didn’t tell me”

“So you don’t know your name, your from the agency, hmm, so what can you do that’s exciting and new ?”

Never get between Merv and a pie…

“Well, I can play chess, sort of and the ukulele, sort of , oh yes and I once had a piano lesson.”

Things were starting to go downhill.

I decided to ramp up the atmosphere.

“No skydiving, no rodeos, so how exciting does it get. So if you have no name then the Pigs Arms will have to name you” Merv is now ruining a good story.

[Merv we didn’t want that till later. I frigging hate you sometimes]

“How about Neville or Baxter?” says the man with no name.

“Fuck off, something spicy for the viewers like Gonzales or Geoffrey.” Funny thing was that I hate both of those names.

“So, Merv, what is your last name?” says Gonzales or Geoffrey or Neville or Baxter.

I wished I looked this good…

“I don’t have one” says hypocrite Merv. “Wot’s yours?”

“Smith actually”

“So no first name Smith, lets call you Abba Zoodoo” Merv ponderously states.

“Okay from now on my name is Abba Zoodoo Gonzales Geoffrey Smith Neville  Baxter ” says Abba. “Fuckin’ happy now.” Gez I hate authors.

“ So Abba Zoodoo Gonzales Geoffrey Smith Neville Baxter getting the word count up with you new name is invaluable, but in your view given this is comedy should have I said knew instead of new? And if I had a last name I would call myself …”

Merv wants to go to School

12 Wednesday Aug 2020

Posted by in Mark

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Yes, we are all for education…

Merv wants to go to School.

 

by Mark.

Hi, Merv here, I fink like, you know, I wanna go to school, just so I can say smart arse things at the bar when I’m working. Like you know if some gezza comes in and orders two pints of Special, I can turn around and say “I think therefore I am”. Whadda ya reckon, sounds good to me. But education is shit so I talk to my good friend Foodge(FOO), who is my legal adviser and any direct questions from this article should go directly to him via the Fictional Characters Union, 000, at your nearest capital city.

FOO: So what’s in an education for you. Let me ask you this. If you have nothing to start with and nothing at the end what do you have?

Merv: Nothing

FOO:1 take away 1

Merv: Nothing

FOO: Two hungry navvies arrive at the bar and order a pint and a pie. What’s left?

Merv: Nothing.

“Thank Gordon we have turned that interview technique off, so Merv you don’t need school” says Foodge reverting from FOO.

“Well I did have to go to the doctor” says Merv, “hey why can’t we go back to that old interview technique, boy, is this eating up the word limit and it’s good fun”.

FOO: What did the doctor say?

Merv: He said I was sick and that I should go home.

FOO: So what’s wrong with you?

Merv: I don’t know. He said it would be a breach of privacy.

FOO: But it’s you and your health.

Merv: Yes, he said I’d need birth certificates and affidavits from my parents just to prove that they were there at my birth so he could go ahead and release the information. Shit happens as they say.

FOO: I’m ringing your lawyer right now, we’ll get you out of this.

Merv: You are my lawyer.

FOO: Oh shit.