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~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

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Tag Archives: humor

Beach and the Video

16 Tuesday Nov 2010

Posted by Mark in Uncategorized

≈ 30 Comments

Tags

Beach, humor, Robin Hood

The Pigs Arms welcomes Mel

 

The Beach...

Sitting on the red sand, false hope at waves and shark sightings within my braggart persona. Finding my pants lack legs I stand and chase the elegant Harrods mirage to find nothing but a tree stump, chock of woodworm and a large egg with no hints as to origin or future hope of hatching. Shall I scramble? Shall I scamper? I sit and contemplate pants lacking legs and discuss my future with the woodworms, leaving the egg to rest in hope of becoming something new and big and slightly special.

 

Being warm I discovered the missing clothing appendage. I walked toward the big old green chair stolen from Le Cornu’s foyer and jumped aboard to enjoy the view, Wow, Atlantic Video within paces, think I just may, huge range of retro media. As I leap from the Le Cornu’s monument, I contemplate a name change due to massive overdue fines at every video store in sight upon boarding a Sea World helicopter. Yes, lucky I collected mail from all boxes at the stereotypical cream brick apartment block I call home. At once I settle on Nguyen Ng. Feeling lucky I carry heavy duty hair ties for faux slant eyes.

 

and the Video, courtesy http://www.starpulse.com

“Okay hero, I seek, Robin Hood Men in Tights, you have on your shelf?” “Sure, never seems to rent out longer than 15 minutes at a time” comes the reply. “Ah sooo – methinks it sounds too good, thank ye sir so much”.     Smile on face I loosen the hair, mmm, normal eyes, so Aryan, yet in a special red headed fashion.

The Royal VN Your Majesty...

Limping across the ochre terrain I locate my pants legs across the windscreen of the VN, well thank God, nothing worse than burning your hands on the plastic economy class steering wheel.

TTG at night, well sort of...pix fotosearch

On to Adelaide. Tea Tree Gully here I come, stun gun and clothesline at the ready. Hey how is it going matey? What do you what… stun gun. Clothesline confines the man to his faux leather home theatre lounge. Hey smarty, big tough man – feast your obnoxious brain on this. Sets the DVD player to repeat –“Nooo, surely my cells shall fry”. “That’s nothing shaghead – tomorrow I’m making you sit through the entire Wogs, Kings of Mykanos [sic]”. He he. Don’t mess with me boy Mel wins.

Mel Nov 2010

11.2 Sandy V’s Joke Hocknee

03 Wednesday Nov 2010

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 33 Comments

Tags

Australia, Father O'Way, humor, Pigs Arms, science fiction

Warrigal does Joe at the numbers game …

A bloke called Diogenes emerged from Greece! Hey, I just know, lately my nocturnal  operations provided quality? Really? Study the universe, virtual wisdom, xenophobic yawn, zark!

Hey! Shit man. What?  An alpha or betic or maybe even diabetic dream? Hmm, what’s going on ? Must be time to go back out into space. Jules, you know, the S.S. Julian II, my spaceship,  is hiding on the dark side of the moon. Hmm, good name for an album. Jules hates being spotted as a UFO by NASA and all those other space freaks that are looking for  life outside Earth. See Earth can’t join the space community because we are still too tribal. Jules says that there’s nothing worse than a redneck American farmer that says “Eye’s seeen a UFO”. Cause we all know that aliens and UFO’s only appear in front of redneck American farmers. Well, sort of.

Anyhoo, I’ve had a gutful of sports stars and the like so today I’m going to talk to shadow Finance Minister Joke Hocknee.  To make it easier to follow the interview  I’m gonna do the initials thing at the side.

FOW: So Joke, you are good with maths then?

JH: Yes Sandy, one plus one equals two or thereabouts. Just depends on the core lie/non core lie theory.

FOW: Yes, but Joke you must surely understand investment strategies, shares etc. that must have a long term positive effect for the Australian voting public?

JH: Yes Kerry, er, um, Sandy, if we juxtaposed the symbiosis of the syntax we can say that nothing is certain. Except for certainty.

FOW: You must be concerned at the dollar meeting parity with the Greenback?

JH: Yes Sandy, the Greenback whale is welcome in our waters at any stage. We are all for conversation.

FOW: Don’t you mean conservation?

JH: Yes, that too, what ever it is.

FOW: As shadow treasurer do you see your party being able to reign in the banks on interest rates?

JH: Absolutely Sandy. One word from the banks and we will do whatever they want.

FOW: So Joke, If I could grant you a wish, what would you like to see happen?

JH: Oh it’s easy Sandy. Work your guts out for nothing while your boss gets rich.

That’s all tonight from the Devon Hurty Report, I’m Sandy O’Way, Canberra.

Pig’s Legs Waxing and Beauty Salon

03 Wednesday Nov 2010

Posted by Mark in Warrigal Mirriyuula

≈ 28 Comments

Tags

beauty salon, humor

Beauty school was tough for Glenda and it took her a long time before she was able to successfully contour an eyebrow without injuring the client.

Warrigal’s Digital Mischief

11. Sandy Returns – From where, not sure?

23 Saturday Oct 2010

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 42 Comments

Tags

Ashes, Australia, cricket, Father O'Way, humor, science fiction, Trotters Ale

Hi. Sandy here. For the new I’m Father Alexander “Sandy” O’Way. I’m the parish priest at the St Generic Brand Church in Inner Cyberia in the Western suburbs. The parish covers the Pigs Arms and I am often down there, sinking a glass canoe of Trotter’s Ale and debating science with Emmjay, or in other words talking bullshit. Oh, and I have recently been in space, travelling several galaxies researching baked beans for the creator of the Universe, Gordon O’Donnell, an astrophysicist from another dimension. Anyway, that’s another story.

Anyhoo, they let me out of the local psychiatric unit after the Bish, you know, my boss, Bishop Bishop came and bailed me out. Now I’m back with my Bel, you know Belinda, Glenda’s little sister, whom I married and then Gordon tells me he wants me to go back into space. Yeah right!

So I have to find out what happen between Picky Runting and Shame Worn, you know, they are cricketers, the most boring game in the universe. A good saying would be “I’ve seen grass grow, paint dry and a cricket game”, know what I mean. Personally I couldn’t give a rat’s toss bag, what ever that means, but the Bish had a bet with Pastor Sauce that they will replace Runting with Michael Fark. I mean, tie me down and spank my bottom, Gees arse.

I visit Picky at his rural Tasmanian home that he had completely relocated to the Sydney outskirts. Convenient hey. “Picky, dude, what’s this spat with you and Worny?” I ask showing my severe interest by yawning half way through the question.

“Ah, nothing Father. Look me and Worny is mates and nothing can come between us. He has his views and I have mine but unfortunately his views are all wrong and mine are always right and so I am going to belt the zark out of him, oops, Sorry Father, I seek means of a redemption through negotiation rather than senseless violence, ugh”. “What about Fark for captain?” I enquire. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe”

Hmmm, now lets see what Worny has got to say for himself. I visit Shame in the majestic mansion that he built for himself by being able to bowl spin, telling lots of other people to zark off and how great he is, yeah right. “Shame, dude, what’s this spat with you and Runting?” I ask showing my severe interest by yawning half way through the question. “Ah, nothing Father. Look me and Picky is mates and nothing can come between us. He has his views and I have mine but unfortunately his views are all wrong and mine are always right and so I am going to belt the zark out of him, oops, Sorry Father, I seek means of a redemption through negotiation rather than senseless violence, ugh”. “What about Fark for captain?” I enquire. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe”

Gee did you get a de jevu or what?  I mean are these guys similar. So I rings my good mate and colleague in India. The former test player now journalist Asif Iwood. “Asif mate, did Runting or Horrorwitch set bad fields in the last series?” I ask totally uninterested in the answer. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe.” Hmm, deep. We’re getting somewhere here. “So Asif should they have played two spinners?” I ask as it’s written on a piece a paper for me by some cricket nut job to ask. “Well Sandy yes, no, maybe.”  Wow, mystical stuff.

So I rings the Bish “Hey Bish, it’s Sandy” I announce rather bravely. “Your money is as safe as the American banking system collapsing, Bish, Bish, are you okay?”

Can I interest You in a Ute, Mate ?

03 Friday Sep 2010

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

car dealers, humor, Kevin Rudd, ute

Danny of Dodgy City

Glenda’s other half Danny sloped in through the front door of the Pig’s Arms and made a beeline for Merv.  He’s been doing it tough since the GFM and his used car yard “Dodgy City” has been empty since he’s been unable to offer his traditional “No-deposit Easy Finance”.

A schooner of Trotter’s, thanks.  I’m totally over being governed through a bullshit conflict-driven political process.  His brow furrowed.  He continued.

The Opposition, desperately lookin’ for relevance have pushed me over the top with the UteGate Affair. It completely defies logic.

Merv pretended to polish a glass and was quietly contemplating the odds on Wal’s dog “Leichhardt Flash” at Dapto tonight. “Yeah ?”

Why would a Prime Minister and his Treasurer put their necks on the line for a mate whose sole interest is supposed to be extracting a favour and getting a foot in the trough through the loan or gift of something so trivial as a bloody ute ?  Particularly when the bloke’s cashed up to the gills anyway ?

If a national leader was interested in a bit of baksheesh, surely something on the scale of a contract for reconstructing the Middle East or flogging a few hundred million dollars worth of, let’s say, a major export grain crop, would be more in the line of a fair quid-pro-quo for taking the risk.

Even if there was something really on the nose and Utegate allegations could for some crazy reason be true, who could possibly donate a rodent’s anus ?

Yes, yes.  Upholding standards, moral this, example for the nation that, blah blah blah.

I have two words for the Leader of the Opposition.

Trotters Ale ?  Yeah thanks.

No,  – “British Parliament” – rorting their allowances to get the British taxpayer to pay for such essentials as repairs to the family moat.  That’s surely the gold standard in skunk work.  Not counting grain sales amnesia.

Merv said he was a bit ashamed that all the Australian Parliament can come up with is Peter Reith’s phone bill and possibly Kevin’s Ute plus a couple of nudges and winks.  “If I was the Leader of the Opposition, I’d bury that last one in case the rest of the world thought we weren’t taking the GFC and the AGW and rampant corporate corruption seriously.”

Danny finished the last of his foamy Trotters and continued “In case nobody on the Opposition bench – and let’s face it, there are quite a few falling into that category – has noticed it, there’s this thing called Australia that needs to be governed – thankfully not by a pack of banjo players who want to flog dead horses with the flimsiest bullshit that they can dream up to try to assassinate the character of the elected folks.”

What’s the message to me and the rest of the Australian voters ?  “You must be fuckwits for voting for these scoundrels !”

I mean, what car flogger hasn’t petitioned his local MP for a kick-in for hard times ?

It’s just a ute.  Not a gazillion barrels of sweet light crude.  Just a ute and maybe also a nod and a wink, possibly.  For Pete’s sake, I’d give the leader of the Opposition leader a ute too.  Or at least a ride in Emmjay’s Zephyr.

Merv came over all serious “But good government depends on good Opposition.  Perhaps the Opposition needs to have what that means spelled out.  It’s not, as the halfwit adage goes “The job of the Opposition is to oppose”.  I would suggest that the job of the opposition is to assist, encourage, even force the Government to improve legislation – itself a big call.  To disagree with the bantamweight policy and flyweight delivery – and (here’s the rub) come up with something better.”

“Sure” he went on, speaking to the politician in his head, “represent your narrow sectional interests and peddle yesterday’s stale ideology (if in fact they have an ideology), but for Australia’s sake, they ought to get up off their fat bronze and DO SOME REAL WORK !”

“Amen to that.  Listen, can I use your mobile, Merv.  I’ve got to give Tony a call.  Do you have a fax ?”

Pic borrowed from http://www.barkingcarnival.com – with thanks.

Hung’s Parliament

19 Thursday Aug 2010

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 38 Comments

Tags

Australia, humor, politics, tax

It’s a Hung House

Dear Julia and Tony,

Hi. Hung One On here. Look, I’m a nothing, yeah that’s right, a nothing but I have this thing called a vote. You want to know me when the election comes around but after that you don’t. You just go and do what ever you or your party wants to do. Then you will turn around and tell me that what you are doing is good for me. Yeah, sure, I’ll take a pay cut and lose compo rights so some CEO can go out on ten million. Give us a break.

See I’m in a safe seat, the seat of Port Adelaide. The sitting member is Mark or Michael or Matthew Butler. This guy will get in no matter what. I can vote for Donald Duck however the Labour bloke will get in. The Butler bloke doesn’t speak, text, phone or email. Yes, he did send me a letter once, wow, I almost once saw him at the supermarket and apparently he didn’t see me once at the art gallery. Overwhelmed, yeah, right.

Look, I’m writing to you as the current leaders of the political forces in Australia. This is addressed to you but it’s to all Australian political leaders, both past and present, government and opposition, to all those narrow agenda senators that thought they could make a difference. This is not personal however I address my concerns to you.

Will you negotiate with me over my income tax? Lets face it, both of you sat down with the mining industry and compromised on a deal, didn’t you? So I want you to sit with me an negotiate a deal for me to pay an appropriate amount of tax. See I’ve paid tax for 30 plus years. I effectively pay your wage. In theory you are my employee.

As my employee I now direct you to do the following,

  • Increase the mining tax to 60% and if they don’t like lets get someone who does.
  • Lets fix these basic issues, hunger, poverty, homelessness and hope
  • Lets tax the zark out of the rich to pay for the poor just like Robin Hood
  • Introduce Industrial Manslaughter so any CEO that disobeys safety and kills a worker goes to jail
  • Stop taxing the poor. $6000 tax free, what a joke.
  • Turn the tap off that sucks the Murray
  • Abolish state governments – old world stuff no longer needed
  • Bring back the death penalty for fine defaulters
  • Introduce a 4 wheeled drive tax on all non-country vehicles to 5000 percent value of vehicle.
  • Make Corporate CEO’s take a non benefit salary and tax the crap out of them. Then lets see how good they feel about things.
  • Allow outlaw motorbike gangs to executed on sight
  • No to gay marriage – we don’t want to inflict the gay community with the problems of marriage, now do we!
  • Legalise drugs. Prohibition hasn’t worked. Let’s get it under control. Do you want your partner, child, family member or loved one to buy a drug made by a bikie in a backyard or what? Wouldn’t a pharmaceutical dose of heroin from a chemist be better then a money bag from a bikie?
  • Lets arm the whales so they can fight back

Bugger it, you lot. I’m coming to parliament, Hung’s Parliament, Vote One Hung Parliament.

Written and authorised by Pee Dant for Hung’s Parliament Canberra.

Ladies’ Lounge Renovations Finally Completed

10 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay, Ladies Lounge

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Australia, humor, Pigs Arms

Meaningless Total Picture

Modelled on the Famous Spongobongo Ladies Lounge

Merv announced today the completion (finally) of the renovations for the Pig’s Arms Ladies Lounge.  He was quoted as saying “I’m looking to create a comfortable and safe – even ‘homey’ environment for the ladies of Inner West Cyberia to gather together and exchange pleasantries.

Use of beer mats will be mandatory.

And no cussin’ or spittin’ on the floor !”

Patrons are expecting a slight rise in the cost of pink drinks – in line with rises in the CPPI (Charge Pig’s Patrons Incredibly).

Merv is expecting to recover costs by Friday afternoon.

Rugby Player Not Charged Today

31 Saturday Jul 2010

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Australia, humor, Pigs Arms, rubgy league

Tarquin Tough

In a shock announcement , Tarquin Tough, the new head of the NRL said that no player has been apprehended and charged by police today for:

  • Drunken and disorderly behaviour;
  • Possession of drugs (pharmaceutical or recreational);
  • Possession of a firearm, licensed or unlicensed;
  • Assault (common or sexual or aggravated);
  • Grievous bodily harm;
  • Possession of child pornography;
  • Rape (actual or attempted);
  • Murder;
  • Manslaughter;
  • Or showing up late for training.

Mr Tough said that several players were facing the judiciary for unspecified misdemeanours like sponsorship violations and the League was likely to impose heavy fines just to impress on fans how poor they are in comparison with their idols – the ridiculously overpaid buffoons with poor self discipline and bad attitudes towards women.

He then mumbled something about a minor ram raid on an ATM, and a holday home on the Gold  Coast.

Football journos are currently checking to see whether the season is on, or off or whether it’s April 1.  Bat Masterson of the Daily Telepathy was quoted as saying “Give them a fair go, it’s not even lunchtime yet”.

10. Ur, um, the end bit

19 Monday Jul 2010

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

cricket, Father O'Way, humor, Pigs Arms, science fiction, Trotters Ale

The Joyous couple

Sandy here, back here on Earth and married to the beautiful Belinda, March 19, ouch, 21, okay, sheez! No need to be so touchy!  After a stay in the Regen-O-Bubble on Missen, Helvi and Belinda got rid of the little rodent Howard by blowing the zark out of him with a Waughhead [Thanks Waz,] The girls then did a pub crawl from Andromeda back to the Milky Way. Well, I must say, girls will be girls. Well I sort of wanted to stay on Missen. I had become used  to the way of life and  well, you know, shiraz, steaks and lots of things that now escape my mammary, er, um, oops, memory.

Anyhoo, Gordon has paid off the ICCB to go and zark off, the S.S. Julian II has rounded up a mighty cast and returned to Earth, yes that’s right Earth home now for Sandy and Belinda, no more space roaming for me. I’m a new man. It was an adventure being out there in space but give me the quiet parish life any day. See priests in my religion can get married. At our church you just insert the name of your God into out text sheet and away you go. No one cares about your views and everyone accepts each others rights to which fictional creature you want to talk to, everyone’s a winner.

Bishop Bishop performed the ceremony at the parish church of St Generic Brand. The post wedding party is at the Pigs Arms. Merve along with Granny and the two Vivienne’s, oh, yes, look the crew have come down for the wedding so we have the situation where like is meeting like, I mean its zarking freaky man, like imagine Voice meeting Catherine!

I look around the crowd and lots of people have turned up. Big M and Pussy Couscous have travelled from Missen. Zig and Zag have come from Zog.  Zig wants to begin tours to Earth  as Earth men are so easy, if you know what I mean.

It’s funny watching the crew from the S.S Julian II meet the locals at the Pigs Arms. The Vivienne’s don’t seem to be able to agree about cups. Astyages and Dave, the guitar droid, are working on a song list ready to play after the food has gone down. Helvi and the Helvi-tastic are agreeing on everything and everything while GO and Gerard are discussing Van Gough and Wagner. Emmjay and the first mate are swapping brewing techniques with Michael Jones, the publican of the Bats Droppings. Yes there all here. Even Mr and Mrs A are here, looking resplendid as usual and in deep conversation with Geo.r.ge.

I gaze at Belinda. She is beautiful beyond reproach. I am the lucky guy, I’ve won my lotto. Belinda has all her sisters for bridesmaids, Glenda, Juanita, Jacinta, Melinda, Rosita, Edwina , Sophia and Cassandra. Boy, am I going to have some birthday parties to go to, well, someone’s gotta do it.

I see Gordon, you know Gordon O’Donnell the creator of the universe, he has been busy having a few pints of Trotter’s Ale and approaches me. “Sandy, you old dog, got the pick of the bunch with young Miss Belinda” proffers Gordon, pulling back on a Café Crème “Yes, she’s a dish for sure Gordon” I answer rather distractedly as Gordon’s eyes have narrowed and he has grabbed me around the shoulder and pulled me in close to him. Is he batting for the other team? I think to myself “Sandy, look old chum there’s just one thing. I enrolled in uni next year and I need some help……”

[Authors note: Sandy was last seen in the back of an ambulance, in a white coat heading for the funny farm, yelling at the top of his lungs “PPPPPPPPPPPPPPiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggsssssss in ssssssspppppppppaaaaaaaaaaacccceeeeee.]

Kerobokan Gets Father O’Way

15 Thursday Jul 2010

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, humor

Sandy Beach

Well, Father O’Way here, I mean look firstly she told me she was sixteen, sorry not my child, I was outta town that night anyway, I was just trying to show her the Heimlich Manoeuvre honest, boy so many questions.   So the Bish banishes me to Indonesia, over a little fling with the housekeeper and bit of dope left in my boogie board bag, I mean it was only a few kilos.  Filling in for 2 weeks at Kerobokan Prison as resident Chaplain with my little Shappy, I mean, this was going to be hell, pardon the pun.

Shappy said most people sleep on the floor of their cell. Hers sleeps 6 and is a tight fit.  I asked why they didn’t use bunk beds.  “It’s very tight in there.” said Shappy, pointing to her sarong, hmmm I thought, I love a tight fit.  Shappy said she couldn’t give me any info on what was going on.  I said, “But people are interested in your mental state and your cleavage oops I mean conditions?”  She said she was holding up okay and when I told her that the guards and the media were saying she wasn’t accepting visitors, she said don’t believe everything you read in the press, especially anything on the bulletin board at the Pig’s Arms.  Shappy said there’s no tennis court at Kerobokan as reported in the newspaper, I mean fecking hell, no tennis court!

I asked her about the lack of daylight, she said she has gotten used to the fluorescent light being on the whole time, “Christ, oops sorry Father, not even a fecking energy saver”.  The press likes to exaggerate everything and one source said she had not seen the light of day for 6 months.  When I saw her she looked tanned, more tanned than me.  She has an ample breast line, curvy waist, long legs and a million dollar smile.  “Father, Father”, she yelped, “No hands please, but lower Father, much much lower”.

We bribe the guard with a Pig’s Arms t-shirt to let us go downtown, I mean, who wouldn’t want a Pigs Arm’s t-shirt.  We walk to the Hotel Intan Bali and stop for a bevy at the Kakatua Lobby Bar.  Shappy says the beers are crap here.  I tell her I have a six pack of Trotters, she looks at me “Father, I’d do anything for a Trotters, I mean anything”.  So we go down the beach and we have a photo taken of us in the sand as we knock back a few ales.  I ask Shappy if there was one message to give people back home, something that would show that she was innocent.  After a long pause she replied “Yes Father, can someone mind my hydro!”

from the Pig’s Arms’ correspondent in Bali, well, Hung

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