Note to self

Do they do hair extensions for sideburns? Must investigate price and availability.

A Beginner's Giude To Modern CB Language

In today’s modern world, advances in telecommunications occur so rapidly that we are sometimes in danger of being left behind. Woe betide the businessman who allows this to happen for it is his competitor who embraces the new technology who will in the long run end up in front. As an aid for all forward-thinking people, I have taken it upon myself to provide a short beginner’s guide to understanding the language commonly in use on the modern Citizen Band radios (or as they are known in common parlance, ‘CBs’). Many of you may have seen these devices in use in recent films such as ‘Smokey And The Bandit’ and ‘Convoy”. At first glance, the language used in these movies is bewildering but with practice you to can master the art of ‘trucker talk’. Who knows, you may even decide to buy a ‘CB’ wireless of your very own. So good luck, and keep on truckin’!

Breaker Breaker: I desire a conversation with you
10-4: That is correct
10-100: To urinate
10-200: To defecate
Handle: Name, usually a form of self-aggrandisement
Smokey Bear: A uniformed police officer
Go Juice: Dieselene (or other petroleum distillate)
Choke’n’puke: An eatery
Bubblegum Machine: A police vehicle
Groceries (Put Down Neck): To eat comestibles
A Plain Brown Wrapper: An unmarked police vehicle
Pedal To The Metal: To drive with excessive vigour
Sumbitch: A foolish person
Goddam sumbitch: An extremely foolish person
Beaver: A comely female
Twenty (what’s your…?): Location
Bear In The Air: A police helicopter
Kojak With A Kodak: A radar-assisted speed detection device
Evel Kinevel: A motorcycle policeman

The History Of Stuff, Part 2

Cats.

Cats were invented in 1898 by Marie Curie. Prior to this, cats had been mythological creatures used only in tales of witchcraft and worshipped by Egyptians. Marie developed the cat using radiation applied to a petrie dish of diced mouse, which she fed to a breeding Ocelot. The resultant offspring were much smaller and easier to use and proved an instant hit in Parisian society. Today cats can be found all over the world except Nova Scotia, where they explode.
Interestingly, cats may emit a strange groaning sound when rubbed vigorously. This is known in collector's circles as 'purring'. If you ever hear this 'purring' do not be alarmed, do not attempt to lubricate your cat in any way, and do not try to return your cat to the manufacturer. Your cat is in perfect working order.

Tales From The Chod-Bin

For those of you who don't know me, I used to work at an anonymous paint factory in Kilburn, South Australia. There's not a lot to do in sunny downtown Kilburn, it must be said, and so lunchtimes were a bit of a challenge. If you hadn't brought sandwiches to eat at your desk, a normal lunch consisted of a walk to the BP down the road (next to the naughty shop and the laundrette), and a lukewarm pasty to eat on the way back. Because Kilburn is an industrial estate, there's not a great deal to look at during the trip to the thriving shopping precinct, which gives one time to reflect on life.
On one occasion I was walking BPwards when I noticed two distinct objects lying in the gutter. As I approached, the combination struck me as odder and odder. There was an empty dildo box, and an old Frank Sinatra LP. Here, indeed, was a mystery, and I set my powers of deduction to solving it.
By the time I was on the return trip, munching a thoughtful pasty, I had it. Or at least, I had the most plausible answer I could think of under the circumstances. I could see, in my mind's eye, an enormous fat woman, doubtless a resident of Olde Kilburne Towne, driving home from the naughty shop, too eager to wait to get home before she took her new dildo out of the box (pardon the pun). As she drove, I could see her come to a decision. "Now that I've got this new dildo," she says to herself, throwing the empty box out of the window, "I won't be needing Frank Sinatra any more!"

The world can be an odd place at times.

Random Doobings

"Get the time machine ready! I feel like a quick jaunt back to 1850."
"Queen Victoria again?"
"Mind out of the gutter, please."

Work For The Dole

In my busy double-life as a peon in a pipe fitting factory and aspiring author, people often ask me why Captain Doobie never became Pope.

In fact, Captain Doobie wasn't allowed to be Pope by direct Centrelink order. The opinion of the Vatican was never canvassed. After being forcibly signed up to a Work For The Dole scheme by the Ice Queen, he hacked the system and changed the assignment from 'Rubbish Collection' to 'Spiritual Leader of The Supreme Holy See'. He was caught as he was boarding the plane to Italy and had his benefits assessed. What particularly irked him was that Goodtime Slim was not caught, and actually spent several months as the Patriarch of Eastern Orthodoxy in Instanbul.

Special Extra Pirate Day Post!

A student of things mathematical,
grew sick of equations quadratical,
he longed to be free,
so he ran off to sea,
and behaved in a manner piratical!

Possible Contestant List For Pirate Big Brother

Blackbeard
Cap'n Kidd
Johnny Depp
Ex-Monkees lead singer Davy Jones
Captain Feathersword
The Pilot From The Flight Centre Ads
Captain Birdseye
Morcambe and Wise

Captain Doobie's Car Reviews, Part 3.

The Chrysler Crossfire

The Chrysler Crossfire is an odd looking car. From the back it's a boat-tail Buick, and from the front the corrugations on the bonnet instantly remind you of some sort of between-the-wars Lufthansa airliner. Which is appropriate, given the Crossfire's germanic heritage. It's essentially a reskinned Mercedes coupe, but you'll note that I said 'essentially', not 'merely'. There's nothing mere about this car. From the moment you step into the 2-seat 'cockpit' (there's no other word for it) you know you're in a real car. The low-slung seats don't give you much height, but you still get to see that long, sexy bonnet stretching out ahead. Turn over the 3.0L V6 and it doesn't just come to life, it snarls. The engine is nicely chosen, with just the right combination of torque and restraint to prevent you from accidentally doing something silly. And the sound is fantasic, even with the windows up. At low speeds it's responsive and agile. Turn it up a notch (say, around the backstreets of St Marys) and you see what an agile little thing it is. Nothing fazes this car. It's balanced, poised and sticks to the road. You turn the wheel and it goes with no oversteer. The supercharged version, however, may provide this.
If I had any reservations about the car it would be the gearbox and the centre console. The 'tiptronic' gearbox seems to lag behind, especially when you're trying to give it some stick. Making a change up while keeping your foot down results in the engine over-revving, and it's not a nice sensation (imagine putting your foot down in neutral). The centre console has obviously carried over from the LHD version because the hand brake is on the left of it, but i'm driving on the right. It wasn't a problem on the test drive in the automatic, but on the manual version it would be less than helpful and not at all ergonomic.
But for those minor niggles the Chrysler Crossfire is a truly magnificent car. It's fun, and it's not overly dangerous. My 2 favorite things in a car.

Random Doobings

Goodtime Slim waited at the dinner table a trifle nervously as Captain Doobie brought out the dinner. He was nervous because all of Captain Doobie's previous attempts to cook tended to result in acute abdominal pains, vomiting and (on one notable occasion) forcible defenestration. However, he calmed himself with the reminder that Captain Doobie had recently been to a cooking course at TAFE and things might not be as bad as they had once been.
Captain Doobie came out of the kitchen and laid a covered platter in front of Goodtime Slim. With a flourish and a cry of "Voila!" Captain Doobie removed the cover.
With the cover's removal was revealed a small, blackened lump covered in the vitrified remains of what might once have been gravy. To the side were what can only be described as the burnt-out husks of potatoes. There was a short silence.
"There you are then," said Captain Doobie, covering (he thought) very well, "a meal fit for a king."
"A king?" replied Goodtime Slim in amazement, "King of where? Shitsville? Shittington? Shitford-apon-Avon? Shitwood Forest? Shitraq? Shitgolia? The Glorious People's Democratic Republic of Shit? Shittesuela? Shitterguay? The Lost Continent of Shit, that became so shitty that it collapsed under the weight of its own shit and sank shittily into the ocean?"
There was another short silence.
"So you don't fancy it then?"
"Not altogether, no."

Top 10 War Movies Never Made

1. Those Ragged Bloody Zeppelineers.
2. Kubelwagons Ho!
3. Stuka! No, Wait, Seagull. Sorry.
4. Carry On Blitzkrieging!
5. Up And Down Again: The War Diaries of Werner Von Braun.
6. Fire At Will, Jeeves!
7. The Very Private War Of Alby Mangels.
8. Monty: My Part In His Downfall.
9. Fear And Loathing In Los Alamos.
10. The Indian Mutiny in Song, or: Everybody Singh!

Random Doobings

The phone rang. Captain Doobie shambled up the hallway in his Incredible Hulk slippers and answered it.
"Hello?" he yawned into the mouthpiece.
In the War room of the Pentagon, the mood was tense as the president spoke into the speakerphone.
"Howdy," he said, "I need to speak to a Mr Goodtime Slim."
Captain Doobie yawned again and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
"He's not here."
The President couldn't believe what was going on.
"Who is this?" he demanded.
"Captain Doobie," came the reply.
Around the war-room table there was fierce discussion as the President hit the 'mute' button. "That must be their senior military man," Condoleeza suggested.
"Ah, good thinking Condi," said the President. He unmuted the phone, "Well Captain, could I please speak with Goodtime Slim?"
"I told you he's not here. I think he's having a poo."
The president lost his temper. "Do you know who I am?" he yelled into the speakerphone.
"No," replied Captain Doobie as he hung up, "but you're obviously some sort of arsehole."

Goodtime Slim's Solve-Your-Own Mystery

Can you guess the identity of the killer from the story below?

Lady Earnshaw surveyed the people gathered in the drawing roon of the large, elegant country house known as The Cloisters. There was Mr Carstairs, the famed explorer; Lord Ridlington-Smythe and his son, Augustus; Miss Riley and her betrothed, Mr Farndale, and Evanns the butler.
"Thank you for your time," Lady Earnshaw addressed them all, "I pray that this will not take long. For I have gathered you all here to tell you that I have found the identity of the person who killed the parlour-maid!"
"I did," replied Augustus.
"As you know, the foul deed took place in the conservatory at midnight," continued Lady Earnshaw.
"I killed the bitch," interrupted Augustus, cleaning his fingernails with a bloody knife.
"The parlour-maid was stabbed 142 times in the buttocks and lower back."
"Yes, by me," stated Augustus baldly.
"That's right," said Lord Ridlington-Smythe, "I saw the whole thing."
"And me," interjected Mr Carstairs.
"And now the time has come for me to expose the killer!" Lady Earnshaw thundered dramatically. She raised an accusing finger at Evanns, the butler. "It was you!"
"No!" everyone gasped.

Q. How did Lady Earnshaw know that Evanns was the killer?

A. She didn't. Lady Earnshaw had been certifiably insane since her husband died on the Somme, and what's more she'd been hitting the gin all day. The real killer was Mr Farndale, who had been born a commoner, whose eyes ere too close together, and who had used the wrong fork for fish at dinner.

Captain Doobie's Car Reviews, Part 2

The Phoenix Durango was truly ca car built for the road, inasmuch as it had (at point of sale) wheels. The brainchild of Sir Barnaby ffincham, production started in Cottingsley on the 9th of September 2005 and finished by lunchtime. Of the 3 cars completed, one was used as a sales demo and the others were taken by the company recievers. However, these were returned later in the afternoon under warranty.
The Durango's highly unusual L6 engine was said by many motoring journalists to be merely a V6 with 2 mounting pins missing. However, the unusual layout caused the Durango to be highly maneuverable when turning left. Unfortunately when turning right there was reported to be a large weight shift and a loud clunk.
Similarly, the Durango's unique one-wheel-drive system caused negative comment, particularly when coupled with it's all-wheel steering.
Despite this, the Phoenix Durango gained a reputation amongst the racing fraternity as the car most people wanted to beat, mainly because they could and because if they were in front of one their windshield no longer got coated with oil, transmission fluid and stray pistons.
The Phoenix Company itself was later bought by Lotus, Daewoo, Kia, Proton, Rover and finally Skoda, who earn substantial revenue every year being paid to make no more.
Of the three produced one crashed and burned at Silverstone amid much cheering, one was Lynched at Talladega and the third is currently an artificial reef in the Gulf of Carpentaria.

Smurphy's Laws

Smurphy’s Laws

1. If anything can go wrong, it will.
2. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that involves Gargamel will be the first one to go wrong.
3. If anything just cannot go wrong, it will anyway, and it will involve Brainy.
4. If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which something can go wrong and circumvent these, then a large orange cat (named Azrael) will promptly appear.
5. Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to smurf.
6. If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked Smurfette wandering off by herself to pick flowers several hours ago.
7. Nature always sides with the hidden Azrael.
8. Nothing is foolproof, because Gargamel is too ingenious.

Random Doobings

The tension in the car was palpable as the pair headed back home. Captain Doobie suffered in silence for a while, then turned to Goodtime Slim, who was driving.
"Ok, i'm getting the vibe that something is wrong," he said.
Goodtime Slim gripped the steering wheel harder. "Oh really?" he asked through clenched teeth, "what gives you that idea?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, I give up. What is it? What did I do this time?"
"You know perfectly well," replied Goodtime Slim, staring resolutely ahead.
"No I don't."
Goodtime Slim exploded. "It is not acceptable to ask the Dalai Lama to pull your finger!"
"Well, he did."
"That's beside the point."

MIscellaneous limericks

A Transylvanian Count known as Dracula,
Composed several limericks spectacular,
Said he, “They’re all fine
But to make them all rhyme,
I have to use most uncommon vernacular.”

By far the worst circus on earth,
Was the one which was once held in Perth,
The crowd sat and glowered,
While a goat was deflowered,
By a man of considerable girth.

A sermon on things anatomical,
Delivered in tones most un-canonical,
Made the deacon declare,
“You, the young vicar there!
Keep it above the lower abdominal!”

The History of Stuff, Part 1.

Wainscotting

Back in the middle ages, rooms were not carpeted as we know them. Instead, large rugs took up the middle of most floors. While these seemed adequate, with the invention and instant popularity of the Cuban heel in the 12th century, accidents began to happen. The most famous of these was in the court of King Amstel the Egregious, in which Sir Godefroi of Fyshwick tripped over the leading edge of the royal rug as he approached the throne in supplication. This caused him to overbalance and he landed quite heavily, inadvertently deflowering Princess Hildegaard, who was visiting King Amstel from the court of Holland (or so the story was reported).
Queen Eldebarant, Amstel’s wife, quickly decided that such an event should never again occur, much to the unexpected chagrin of Princess Hildegaard. Queen Eldebarant insisted that from now on, knights with spiked soles should stand at the edge of every rug in the castle. Though this measure solved the problem it was rather knight-heavy, and after a while it started to cost a fair bit. And so a competition was held to devise a better method, the prize for which would be the hand of Princess Hildegaard in marriage (who was beginning to be an embarassment).
At this news all of the skilled artisans in Europe began to design methods to affix carpet in a wall-to-wall fashion. After much trial and error and several aggrieved beheadings, a winner was announced: Sir Sigismund, 3rd Wain of Cotting.

And it has borne his name ever since.

Dog Day Afternoon

Ned cocked his two revolvers with a flourish as he strode through the door of the small town bank. Behind him, Dan and Joe also entered, taking up flanking positions at the bank’s two windows.
“Hands up!” yelled Ned, “this is a hold up!”
Unfortunately for Ned, this did not seem to have the desired affect. Usually when Ned said something like that, women would scream, children would hide in their mother’s skirts and men would go pale and start backing up. Ned rather enjoyed this. He’d been looking forward to it.
This time nothing happened, because the bank was empty. Empty, that is, except for the clerk. Granted, the clerk did stand up when the three outlaws came in, but that was probably more out of habit.
Ned didn’t waste any time. “Dan!” he barked, “make sure that the back door is covered. We don’t want any surprises.”
“Righto,” agreed Dan, who then vaulted the counter and headed out the back.
With deliberate slowness, Ned walked to the counter, his riding boots making a satisfying stompy sound on the floor. He stood in front of the clerk.
“Right,” he said, “The money please.”
The clerk looked appropriately scared. “Er, what money?” he asked.
Ned tried hard to look as menacing as possible. “This is a bank, isn’t it? Banks generally have money.”
“Um, not this one,” said the clerk in a small voice.
‘What do you mean, not this one?”
“We haven’t got any.”
Ned couldn’t believe it “This is ridiculous. Why haven’t you got any?”
In the background, Joe snorted derisively.
“It’s not my fault,” whined the clerk, “there’s no point getting upset at me.”
“No point getting upset?” Ned exploded, “Why not? I come in here to rob a bank, at great personal risk I might point out, and you haven’t got any money. It’s not easy being a bushranger you know. The overheads are ridiculous.”
The clerk really didn’t know what to do. “It’s not my fault,” he repeated.
Dan came in from the back door. “What’s all the yelling about? Are we done here yet?”
“No,” replied Ned.
“No?”
“No. The bank’s run out of money.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I told you we should have gone to Glenrowan.”
“Oh yeah, like you knew that this would happen.”
“Dan just wants to go to Glenrowan because he fancies the girl in the post office, Joe teased.
“I do not!” Dan shot back.
“Will everyone shut up?” yelled Ned. He turned to the clerk. “Right. Why don’t you have any money?” he asked.
The clerk shuffled his feet nervously. “The dog ate it.”
Ned paused at the news. “The dog ate it, did he?”
“Yes.”
“Pathetic. I’m not a teacher, you know. I’m not asking for your homework.” Ned was upset now, and starting to get snippy.
The clerk sighed. “Look,” he told them, “the mail coach came and delivered some gold florins and a whole heap of shillings. I just put them over by the dog for a second and when I looked around he’d eaten them.”
Ned rolled his eyes. “Oh great. Dan, have you got your pocket knife?”
“Bugger off,” said Dan, “I’m not doing that!”
“It’s that or stick your hand up its bum.”
“Ew. No.”
“Maybe you could pretend it was the girl from the post office,” said Joe with a snide smile.
“SHUTUP!”
The clerk interjected, “It’s got to pass through sooner or later. Why don’t you just wait? I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.”
Ned couldn’t believe it. “We don’t have time for that! I’ve got Steve outside keeping the horses running and the troopers will probably turn up soon. We’ll just have to take the dog with us.”
“Sorry,” said the clerk, “he gets horse-sick.”
“And I’m allergic to dogs,” Joe pointed out.
Ned turned to look at them all. “OK,” he said, “so we’ll just leave then, shall we? No robbery today because Joe is allergic to dogs. Great.”
“We could try Glenrowan,” Dan said hopefully.
Ned sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”
They trudged outside and jumped on their horses. Steve said excitedly, “How much did you get?”
Ned just shook his head. “Long story,” he replied.