Responsible Fire Safety Is Everybody's Priority

As a responsible male fire warden I expect that you, like myself, upon hearing a fire alarm immediately think "how can I get a root out of this?" The answer is that it's not at all difficult, dangerous or time consuming, as long as you allow yourself to reason logically.

What to do:
Upon hearing the fire alarm, all males in the building will have immediately evacuated, leaving any women and children to fend for themselves. Children have an innate sense of danger and small lungs, so at the point at which you decide to pretend to be a hero they'll have either already evacuated or been overcome by fumes. In any event, problem solved.

The women will have remained in the building collecting up the bare necessities like lipstick, mobile phones,  makeup, small containers of tissues, photographs of loved ones, the doily that their grandmother made them, packets of lifesavers, keys and other things that they somehow deem it necessary to unpack from their handbags every morning.

Prioritising:
It is now that the women in the building can be mentally divided into 2 groups: the hot chicks, and the ugly chicks. At this point it is most men's instinct to rescue the hot chicks. However, the hot chicks as a group will be expecting to be rescued first. This is after all one of the chief reasons they have avoided hamburgers and being belted with the ugly stick for the last 20 years. This expectation will mean that any rescue will be met with bored yawns and a marked indifference towards you, the rescuer. It is therefore a far better plan to rescue the ugly chicks first.

Rescuing The Ugly Chicks:
Upon hearing the alarm most of the mingers will have resigned themselves to a fiery death, and the realisation that you have rescued them first will set their undercut dripping in short order. At this point, you have a choice: you can stay with the ugly chicks who are fairly-well on for it, and may well have just made a deathbed resolution to shape themselves up a bit in which case: you win. Otherwise, you can now rescue the hot chicks.

Rescuing The Hot Chicks:
If you've done things correctly, you will have made a lot of noise whilst rescuing the ugly chicks, so that the hot chicks know that they have been left behind. At this point, the comfortable world of their own attractiveness will be shattered, and they will feel worthless and unwanted. Some may even contract immediate bulimia, which will have the added benefit of making them easier to carry, which is of prime importance after you've just lugged out some of the Two-Ton Tessies. Once rescued, they will immediately be far more grateful than they would normally be and therefore more than willing to dance the mattress polka, and you win again.

Happy hunting!

Previously...

Captain Doobie had a conversation with The President:

"Just exactly who is this? Do you know who I am???" yelled the president.
"No," replied Captain Doobie, "well, you're obviously some sort of arsehole."

Now read on...

The president's face went a peculiar shade of purple.
"HOW DARE YOU!!!" he screamed apoplectically down the phone. Around him, the war room was in chaos, in the middle of which the Marine with the briefcase containing the nuclear codes tried as hard as he could not to look like a viable option. Then everyone went silent as Captain Doobie's voice came through the speakers again.

"If you'd like to complain, you can just log on to my website," he said.
The president looked crafty. "Oh, you've got a website?" he asked sweetly, then copied down the address that Captain Doobie gave him.

"Aha!" cried the president when Captain Doobie had finished, "Now i've got you! You're going to regret giving me the address! So long, so-called Captain Doobie, if that is your real name!"

With relish, he slammed the reciever down. He threw the paper containing the web address to the director of the CIA.
"Emmet, get your hackers working on that. I wanna know everything about these clowns, pronto! Well, what are you waiting for, man?"

"Sir, i don't think this is a valid address."
"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?"
"www.stiffshit.com, sir?"

Random Doobings

Captain Doobie rounded the corner in a terrified sprint, his feet pounding on the concrete floor of the warehouse. Behind him, the barking of the guard dogs came ominously closer.

"Whose idea was it to break into the joke shop again?" he shouted up the corriodor to Goodtime Slim, who had found a door and was hurriedly trying to force the lock.

"Aha!" cried Goodtime Slim in triumph, and wrenched open the door. As he did so, the entire contents of the cupboard behind it, 20000 fake plastic breasts, fell on him.

"Look out!" he warned the rapidly approaching Captain Doobie, "this door's been booby trapped!"

Random Twattings

The mood in the tent was tense. Outside, the antarctic air temperature had fallen to a rather chilly -42 degrees. Blythe, the batman, was brewing the coffee.

"Mmm," commented Twatt, taking a sip, "utterly disgusting. What on earth is in this?"
"We ran out of coffee yesterday, sir," replied Blythe, "I had to use my initiative."
"So...what is this?"
"I boiled some water and melted some of Godfrey's brown crayons in it, sir."
"Good man. That's what I like to see. Initiative."
Godfrey bustled in out of the cold. "Dammit Twatt!" he yelled, "Have you seen my crayons?"
"Coffee?" Blythe asked.

Random Twattings

Twatt settled himself in the Prime-Minister's chair and looked down his nose at the Director of the CSIRO.
"Boffin, eh? So, my good man, I expect you've got some pretty damn decent guns these days."
The director looked somewhat taken aback by the question. "Well," he began, "you've been frozen for almost 100 years. It's not just about the weaponry, there have been massive improvements in all areas: communications, transport, the list is endless."

"And yet I seem to recall asking about the guns. Well?"
"Surely you must realise sir, that science has made great strides..."
"I don't care about your bloody trousers! Guns, man, guns!"

Random Doobings

Goodtime Slim rushed into the bathroom and furiously turned off the tap, tramping through the water that had poured onto the floor from the overflowing basin.

"For goodness sake!" he snapped at Captain Doobie, who was currently in the bath fully clothed, using a snorkel, "Do you think i'm made of water???"

Splashsplashgurgle. "Yes."
"What?"
"About 70%, isn't it?"
There was a pause.
"Shut your cakehole," Goodtime Slim said, then flounced splashily out.

Recent Advances In Insolent Perviness

I was talking with the guys from the lab at lunchtime today about the recent improvements in solar collection. They told me that it's theorised that within 5 years we will be able to make solar-catchment fabric, which means that you could collect and store solar energy simply by walking around. This has many possibilities, including charging mobile phones, iPods etc. However, the biggest plus for me would be an inbuilt mp3 player in my jeans, and some speakers, so that the 20th Century Fox fanfare would play every time I undo my fly.

Star Wars: The Lost Scripts (cont)

Medical Ward (Hoth Base)
Princess Leia: You know we can't allow any ships to leave due to the asteroid activity.
Han Solo: Is that the real reason? I think you just couldn't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight.
Princess Leia: Why you arrogant, pompous, scruffy-looking nerf herder!
Han Solo: Hey! Who's scruffy looking? And what is a nerf anyway?
Luke Skywalker: Don't ask me, I grew up in a desert.
Princess Leia: It's a semi-agrarian pack animal from Alderaan.
Han Solo: Wait, don't you mean it *was* a semi-agrarian pack animal from Alderaan?
Princess Leia: You bastard. (exits)
Han Solo (following): What? Was it the Alderaan thing again?
C3-PO (entering): Pardon me General Rieekian, your Waldorf Salad is ready in the commissary.

Zillertaler Schurzenjager: Teure Heimat (A Review)

Germany has one of the largest country & western cultures outside of the US and Australia. As such, when I saw a CD of German trucking songs being sold for $1 at Krypton Discs, I bought it without delay.

And I wasn't disappointed in the least. It's a cracker of an album. Relentlessly chirpy and cheerful, songs like "Wilkommen Europa" have lodged themselves in my brain and refuse to leave. Others, like "Alle Sirenen Gingen Los" (All The Sirens Went Off) promise far more in the way of lyrics, should I ever learn German.

Overall, I like this album. The Germans got into c&w through the American servicemen stationed in their country for the last 50 years, but they've tinged it with their own sound. As well as the slide guitars, banjos and fiddles, you also hear traditional German folk instruments like the tuba and the piano accordion. My c&w collection is much the richer for this album.

P.S. the album title "Teure Heimat", as near as I can figure it means literally "Expensive Homeland" or colloquially "Dear Highway".

Star Wars: The Lost Scripts (continued....)

Mos Eisley Spaceport
Stormtrooper Captain: How long have you had these droids?
Luke Starkiller: About 3 or 4 seasons, I guess.
Obi-Wan Kenobi: They're for sale, if you want them.
SC: I'd better see some identification.
O-W K: You don't need to see his identification...
SC: I don't need to see your identification.
O-W K: He can go about his business...
SC: You can go about your business.
O-W K: Move along...
SC: Move along.
(speeder departs)
SC: What a nice chap.
Other Stormtrooper: Uh, sir?
SC: Yes, what?
OS: Are you okay sir?
SC: Of course. Why wouldn't I be?
OS: It's just that they DID look awfully like the droids we were looking for, um...sir.
SC: Don't be ridiculous. We're looking for a gold protocol droid and an astromech.
OS: That was a gold protocol droid and an astromech, sir.
SC: Don't be so....(shakes head) (quietly) ...shit.
OS: Should we go get them, sir?
SC: What's your name, soldier?
OS: Um, THX1674, sir.
SC: Do you see this big orange thingie on my shoulder, THX1674?
OS: Yes sir, but they're getting...
SC: They don't just hand these out whenever you buy petrol, you know.
OS: But...
SC: SHUTUP! And that goes for all of you, if you know what's good for you.

Random Doobings

Captain Doobie rushed into the loungeroom and ran in front of the TV, blocking Goodtime Slim's view of Hogan's Heroes.
"I've just had a brilliant idea!" he exclaimed.
Goodtime Slim sighed. "What is it this time?"
Captain Doobie pulled up a footstool and sat down excitedly. "You'll love this," he said, "Spray painted cows! Think about it! For a small fee, we can spraypaint a company logo onto cows on the side of the road! Companies will be lining up for a piece of the action! We'll be rich!"

Goodtime Slim scowled. "That is the most ridiculous thing i've ever heard."
Naturally, Captain Doobie was somewhat stung by this rebuke. "No it isn't," he snapped back, "The most ridiculous thing you've ever heard was when someone said "Oh, what a lovely job you've done of this. The next time I need it done again i'll most certainly call for you'."

Goodtime Slim glowered at him. "That's a lie!" he spat back, "I've never heard that in my life!"

Exemplary After Sales Service

Congratulations on your recent purchase. You are now the proud owner of a magnificent pair of jugs. Please pay special attention to the instructions and your jugs should provide you with many years of carefree use.

Correct Care and Maintenance of Your Jugs.
Your new jugs are made from only the finest quality materials but they are fragile and may be easily damaged. Please avoid rough handling and/or repeated concussion as this may cause your jugs to break. Broken jugs are difficult and expensive to repair, and even extensively repaired jugs will not look as good as the original product.

Daily cleaning of your jugs is highly recommended. To clean, first wet them, then rub well with soapy water for several minutes, alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise strokes. Overly-vigorous scrubbing of your jugs is not recommended. Ensure that the entire surface of the jug is clean, to avoid buildup of dirt and grime in  hard-to-see places, particularly underneath. Please note that harsh detergents may damage the surface of your jugs. A mild foaming agent is all that is generally required. For a deeper clean you may prefer to soak your jugs in soapy water for an hour. To dry, pat your jugs down with a soft cloth, then allow to air dry. Please do not shake your jugs dry in an overly-vigorous manner.

Correct Display of Your Jugs:
Your jugs should be displayed in a safe manner, yet one that allows them to be admired as the works of art that they are. Please ensure that your jugs are provided with adequate support, and cannot fall or become dislodged. When placing your jugs upon display please remember that they may suffer from extreme exposure to sunlight, becoming discoloured and unattractive.

Thank you for your purchase. May you have many years of pleasure with your new jugs!

The Ridiculously Reticent Regent

It was all hands to the pumps in the Doobie/Slim household. In an effort to elevate their social status from the squalid, unemployable wretches that they actually were, Goodtime Slim had sent an invitation to the Queen to stop in for tea during her next Australian visit. Ordinarily a scheme like this would have little chance of success, but her Majesty found herself at something of a loose end during the South Australian leg of her tour. The whale she was booked in to watch at Victor Harbor had accidentally choked on a Greenpeace dinghy. It had taken some time to dislodge the Zodiac from the whale’s breathing hole, and this resulted in a goodish gap in the Royal itinerary. One of her aides remembered the strange letter written in crayon which had been received at Buckingham Palace several weeks earlier and had made the call.

It had taken Captain Doobie (who answered the phone) quite by surprise. Immediately, the house was transformed into a whirlwind of tidying. The broom was called out of its cupboard for the first time since they’d tried out (unsuccessfully) for the Curling at the Winter Olympics; and a vacuum cleaner was borrowed from Crikey o’Trousers, the mad Irishwoman who lived next door. Crikey had been only too happy to lend it once she heard about the Royal Visit, not because she was a monarchist but because she had always secretly longed to hurl a washing machine at the Queen’s limousine as payback for Princess Di. (Funnily enough, as it turned out her plan was almost thwarted when she rushed out and attempted to purchase a washing machine for the purpose but got her arm stuck in a goat, for reasons that I don’t care to go into now.)

Captain Doobie and Goodtime Slim threw themselves into the cleaning. A large cloud of dust was raised above their house and a multitude of bugs found themselves homeless. Goodtime Slim finally found himself a use for the can of Mr Sheen that he had bought to taunt the bald man across the road with, while Captain Doobie was thrilled to find his Spiderman mug which had lain undisturbed at the bottom of the washing up pile since Bathurst 2002.

After a clean-up effort of gargantuan proportions, Goodtime Slim pronounced everything clean and tidy, and commenced to make some scones. Captain Doobie set about polishing up his mother’s favorite antique teapot and silver cow-creamer. His mother’s teapot had been a wedding present while the cow creamer had mysteriously appeared in her luggage after her tour of the large manor-houses of England. Customs hadn’t been asking any questions upon her eventual extradition, and given the circumstances neither had Captain Doobie.

And so it transpired that Captain Doobie and Goodtime Slim sat in their loungeroom, enjoying high tea with the Queen. Captain Doobie poured the tea whilst Goodtime Slim busied himself buttering the scones and congratulating the Queen on her choice of blackberry jam (his favorite, a point which would cause much gloating in the house in weeks to come). This done, the three of them settled back on the couch for a jolly good munch and a chat, during which Captain Doobie confessed to the Queen of his recurring dream in which he circumnavigated the globe in an Ultralite constructed in large part from Prince Charles’ ears. While her Majesty seemed to be enjoying the conversation she appeared to be experiencing difficulty with her scone. Eventually she put it down and used her impeccably-manicured fingernail to pick out something from between her teeth.

“Oh,” she cried when she saw what it was.
“What is it?” enquired Captain Doobie politely.
“Ay seem to have gort a small black hair cort in may teeth from thet scone,” she replied, “Ay understand how much people layke cats, but having them in the kitchen goes beyond the rules of good taste.”

“But hang on,” said Goodtime Slim, “we don’t have a cat.”
There was a short, awkward pause.
The Queen left soon after. Captain Doobie and Goodtime Slim never again had her to tea, but their legacy remains in tighter royal security protocols to this day, a washing machine-shaped dent in the royal limousine, and a mentally-scarred goat.

Random Twattings

My next novel is likely to tell the story of one Lieutenant Twatt, who has been frozen in the Antarctic ice since 1907 and thawed out by a scientific team in 2007. Lieutenant Twatt survives, and through an obscure loophole is made head of the Royal Australian Navy. What's more, a terrorist strike suddenly makes him Chief of all Military Staff. He then has to hunt the terrorists and stop a major attack on Australia. Here's some dialogue:

Twatt: Run that past me again. You say this is 2007?
Aide: Yes.
Twatt: I've been frozen for one hundred years and only just now thawed out?
Aide: Right again.
Twatt: And i'm the head of the military.
Aide: Um, yes, but...
Twatt: And we're at war with Prussia?
Aide: No!
Twatt: Trust me, if i'm head of the military, we're at war with Prussia.

Hurrah!

I'm back! And surprisingly, despite being in the bush for days and days and days, the car didn't break down and we didn't have to eat anybody. This came as something of a disappointment to me personally as i'm quite fond of 'the other white meat', but then beggars can't be choosers and i'll have to go back to hacking up Jehovah's Witnesses and keeping them in the freezer.

But I got simply squillions of chiastolites, so i'm well set up to start making some very rare and unusual jewellery.