The day Eddie said “cunt” on telly

Once waved into the studio, things took a further turn for the worse. The warm up guy appeared, a former children’s television performer (apparently) now plumbing the depths of comedy with repetitive digs at the Kiwis in the crowd, references to his wife and slightly seedy chat up attempts with a ditzy blonde media student. And boy did he go on, encouraging us to practice the various forms of clapping, cheery and commiserating that would be required during filming while displaying a sub-lap dog devotion to King Eddie.

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Swanking it up at the ‘G

Since nailing their flags to the Collingwood mast, Bruce and Fran have taken their fair share of abuse for choosing late in life to become supporters of a team associated with ranks of Woodstock-smashing, toothless, tattooed bogans. And, while Bruce has suggested they get half a tattoo of the Collingwood crest on each of their [...]

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Czech stodge (in the nicest possible sense) @ Koliba

The restaurant leapt off the Lonely Planet Guide to Eastern Europe’s pages with its promise of traditional Slovenian country fare. Fran was reluctant but, as the city treated them to a downpour of biblical proportions while they walked past its front door, agreed to venture within. To this day she maintains there was horsemeat on the large silver platter, one of many barely recognisable meat-based products floating in a sea of vinegary, cabbage-strewn fat. Whatever the origins, her fright meant more food for Bruce.

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Bruce and Fran: the Good Samaritans

“Is that a body in the road?” asked Bruce as they drove along the edge of Willesmere Park in the early hours of Saturday morning.
“Oh my God. It might be,” said Fran.
They pulled over and, from a safe distance, Bruce called to the body slumped across the small, concrete central reservation like an abandoned Guy [...]

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Baby-naming advice

Simple really.
Do you want your daughter to become embroiled in real life sub-Jerry Springer escapades?
Answer yes – name her after a respected European make of car, a one-step guarantee of instant class. Volvo’s probably a little risque, Citroen a little tart, BMW too open to interpretation (and blackmail), Ferrari just crass, so how about Mercedes?
Well…
The [...]

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