The Mobar Gazette

Restaurant Review: Förk

2012-04-01T08:08:00.003+01:00

Written by Alik Dmitriev

Writing a review for Förk has been somewhat difficult. It’s not that the waiting list for a table is particularly long, for there is no waiting list. Some evenings, depending on the whim of its staff, there are no tables. Literally.

Over the past few decades, Melburnians have endured many culinary fads. Establishments have come and gone, taking with them concepts that have tested the patience of even the most open-minded and pretentious diners. The sardine malted milkshake of South Yarra’s once-vaunted Poisson de la Gouttière immediately springs to mind.

The rise and rise of reservation-free restaurants is a testament to either the patience or the disappointing willingness of Melburnians to hop on a bandwagon if it’s potentially cool, black-clad, or whatever Sydneysiders aren't doing. With Vue de Monde now providing customers with cutlery holders lined with kangaroo scrotums, one would be forgiven for thinking it is the latter.

With this in mind, the thought of a restaurant that provides a single piece of cutlery for an entire meal may prove a bridge too far even for those who are entirely comfortable with culiwankery. That the piece of a cutlery is a fork is perhaps the only predictable thing about Förk, the brainchild of German wunderkind Günter Kohl.

Kohl was unavailable for comment for this story; unsurprising when one learns that those involved with the restaurant regularly deny its existence to those who ask.

Förk defies definition. It does not take reservations, nor does it expect diners to line up for hours on end in the hope of attaining a table and bragging rights, a la Chin Chin or Mamasita. It has no website, is not listed in the telephone directory, and the few reviews that have been posted on Urbanspoon have been removed within hours.

Prospective diners are contacted directly by Förk’s staff with an offer of a meal only after a full background check has been completed. Celebrity chef Neil Perry, one of the few who has met Kohl, claims that he was admitted not because of his cooking prowess and reputation, but rather as a result of Kohl’s penchant for ponytails. Perry described the dining experience as “meta”.

Förk (thankfully) does not claim to be a pop-up restaurant, but it lacks a physical address. Kohl has reportedly described it as having a “dynamic location”. That is, those who make the grade are instructed to gather at a central location before they are transported to wherever Förk is for the evening. Recent venues have ranged from the bizarre (the Essendon tram depot) to the potentially fatal (the helipad at the Royal Melbourne Hospital).

A sitting at Werribee Open Range Zoo saw Kohl introduce the concept of “visceral cuisine”, which by all accounts is quite a few steps up from selecting a lobster from the tank. Zoo management refused to confirm any of the rumours surrounding the events, other than to say Förk and its staff are no longer welcome there in any capacity.

Förk’s diverse choice of venues and its fondness for visceral cuisine has certainly piqued the interest of those in the restaurant industry. Regrettably, for those of us yet to receive an invitation to dine at Förk, the Victorian Department of Health has also taken a fervent interest in the goings-on and is eager to sit down with Kohl to discuss some of its concerns.

It is a sad fact of life that stars that burn twice as bright burn for half as long, and one has to wonder how a man who once lobbied former German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder to ban sleep can maintain this level of energy and innovation. Time, and Förk’s ability to stay one step ahead of the Department of Health, will tell.

Sub-editors overdose on astronauts getting high and spaced out

2011-03-16T10:27:00.005Z

Written by Peter File

THE Australian Press Council has appealed for calm after news agency AFP released a story concerning the discovery of a bag of white powder at NASA’s Kennedy Space Centre in Florida.

Journalists were initially worked into a scotch-tainted lather at the prospect of a story containing the previously unused phrase “intergalactic terrorism”, however a late update to the story has caused massive unrest amongst sub-editors.

The powder was found not to be anthrax, but rather 6.5 grams of cocaine. Police investigating the find later revised that figure to 4.2 grams.

Scores of sub-editors have been hospitalised after suffering minor strokes and heart attacks in the wake of the story.

Neurologists claim to have witnessed the phenomenon several times before, citing the inability of the sub-editor mind to cope with a multitude of possible headlines containing more than one pun.

“It was unnamed until recently,” said Dr Paul Woodward, consultant at the Royal Melbourne Hospital. “However owing to the fact that the severity of the condition is in direct proportion to the number of puns within puns within puns, it is now known as Inception Syndrome.”

Online shoppers responsible for apocalypse, says robber baron

2011-01-06T12:01:00.003Z

Written by Logan Bluetooth

BILLIONAIRE and all around nice guy Gerry Harvey claims to have irrefutable proof that Australians shopping online are solely responsible for the imminent apocalypse and expected destruction of the planet.

Earlier this week, Harvey and several other members of his retail oligarchy took out full-page newspaper advertisements to warn the public that continuing to make online purchases of under $1000 would lead to a gruesome end for the human race, with demonic pterodactyls and fiery pits of molten lava almost a certainty.

Undeterred by the well-financed prophecies of Harvey and his grim band of doomsayers, several online retailers decided to tempt fate by targeting Australian consumers with “Nothing over $1000!” sales.

Infuriated by what he saw as a blatant and callous disregard for Mother Earth, Harvey cited several recent cases of previously unexplainable instances of mass animal deaths around the world that he now believes are the work of online shoppers.

Flocks of birds, casts of crabs and schools of fish have all died en masse in the past week, baffling scientists and setting the loins of conspiracy theorists a tingling.

Harvey wore a black cloak as he presented the evidence at a press conference this morning, ominously announcing, “It hath begun…” before bowing his head and slowly pacing off stage whilst reciting various unintelligible but presumably ancient prayers for mercy.

Letters From The Editor: Bear vs Lion

2010-11-18T09:36:00.010Z

To Whom In The Watchtower It May Concern,

I write in response to the pamphlet one of your willing servants recently placed in my letterbox. I understand that you may distribute many of these unsolicited gems across our fair land, so to narrow it down, this particular pamphlet was entitled “Life in a Peaceful New World”. Despite the temptation, I have no intention of judging you for your bizarre use of italics and bold, lest I be judged.

Before I reach my point, however, I must take issue with your policy of not providing an email address for correspondence. What is this, The Dark Ages? Every other cult on the planet has an email address, what makes you so special? If you’re going to drop unsolicited religious material in letterboxes, it’s only fair that you receive unsolicited emails from the many daughters of the former Nigerian finance minister like the rest of us. Anyhow, enough digression. The point.

I consider animal safety to be one of the most overlooked and important issues that we as a species face today. As the housing estate-covered tentacles of humanity creep further into the wild, it is inevitable that Man shall come into contact with all manner of beasts, some of which cannot be neutralised by conventional jet-ski attacks alone. These creatures cannot be tamed, unless they are raised by humans, have their teeth and claws removed at birth and their jaws wired shut.

Whilst I understand the necessity of conveying a harmonious, strife-free utopia to potential disciples, the illustrations contained within this pamphlet serve only to obfuscate and put the slow-witted at risk of being disembowelled by a hairy brute with paws the size of dinner plates. Perhaps the only accuracy in the scene depicting a woman and child petting and hand-feeding a grizzly bear is the expression on the face of the deer: partly shocked by the gross stupidity on display, but equally delighted there won’t be enough room in the bear’s stomach for a third course.

When you look at the scene on this tract, what feelings do you have? Does not your heart yearn for the peace, happiness, and prosperity seen there? Surely it does. But is it just a dream, or fantasy, to believe these conditions will ever exist on earth?

Let me answer your questions with several questions of my own: in which parallel universe would a father think it wise to wave his infant daughter under the snout of a lion? Have I been misinformed about your beliefs and practices, and is this man in actual fact offering a child sacrifice to your lion god? Do you honestly believe that a lion and a bear could share the same territory for more than five seconds without becoming embroiled in a fracas of epic proportions?

Frankly, this is by far one of the most preposterous, ill-considered and downright dangerous pamphlets I have ever come across. Bear and lion awareness in Australia is already at a treacherously low level, and this manner of tripe does nothing but assist its plummet to the bottom.

If Surf Life Saving Australia produced a pamphlet depicting floaty-clad children frolicking in the shallows with great white sharks and kraken, along with text suggesting that such harmony would be possible if people would only swim between the flags, they would be quite rightly be hung, drawn and quartered.

Cherish these halcyon days of irresponsible drawings and unaccountable junk mail, you cheeky Witnesses of Jehovah, because I can assure you they are numbered. The immunity you are afforded whilst clad in the cloak of religion shall last only as long as this country lacks a leader who has lost a loved one to the jaws of a beast that inhabits the pinnacle of the food chain.

Yours in artistic integrity,

Eoinín McAlpine

Ducks on lake: witnesses horrified, say they were eating soggy bread too

2010-11-04T12:14:00.004Z

Written by Annette Curtain

TRAUMATISED park-goers have bravely recounted their own experiences of what shall henceforth be known as Wet Tuesday, one of the darkest and soggiest days in Australia’s history. Shortly after midday on Tuesday, reports began to emerge that ducks had been sighted on several lakes across the country, openly paddling and in some cases – quacking and eating soggy bread.

Tony Burke, Federal Minister for Sustainability, Environment, Water, Population, Communities and Whatever Else You’ve Got, slammed the ducks for what he described as a “cynical bread grab” and said park enthusiasts had every right to be sickened and appalled by the behaviour of the waterbirds.

“I think working families who enjoy a walk in the park deserve a lot better, especially on Melbourne Cup day…it’s no wonder Australian mums and dads are so fed up with ducks when you see this sort of thing going on.”

Adding insult to injury, authorities have revealed they are powerless to act against the ducks that orchestrated the mass paddle-in. Having fled the country, the arrogant mallards remain at large, leaving behind a plethora of traumatised park-goers and a trail of soggy bread. There are rumours that the ducks have flown in a southerly direction, possibly in a V formation, in what will seem to their victims as an all too convenient seasonal migration.

While those who were exposed to the orgy of quacking expect to be in therapy for quite some time, others who regularly patronise parks have signalled their intent to vote with their feet and visit locations that are uninviting to ducks.

“We’ve had a bloody gutful of these bloody ducks,” said Keith, a working father of five from Narre Warren. “After a hard week at work, I just want to take the family to a large body of water without having to deal with bloody ducks terrorising us. So we’re switching from a lake to a pond; we definitely think we’ll be better off.”

Public urination, tits and glassings too much for Channel 10

2010-10-28T11:31:00.009+01:00

Written by Peter File

BARELY a week after premiering on Australian television, it has emerged that several episodes of Channel 10’s new reality show Undercover Boss have been shelved, possibly permanently. Although the network has a reputation for being as concerned with tasteful programming as they are with quantum physics and the plight of the Beluga Sturgeon, station bosses have canned at least two episodes, deeming them too risqué for Australian audiences.

The show centres on a senior executive or business owner going undercover in their own company as an entry-level fork and spoon operator, where they spend a few days lifting heavy objects and rubbing shoulders with the great unwashed. At the conclusion of their week roughing it, the executives reveal their true identity, allowing the unskilled workers to laugh, cry, or contact their union, depending on what transpired during the week.

While Channel 10’s publicity department have remained uncharacteristically tight-lipped on the matter, station sources have revealed the identities of the bosses left on the cutting room floor.

First to get the chop was Collingwood Football Club president Eddie McGuire, who went undercover as the club’s new centre-half forward. Despite being clad in an unflatteringly snug club jersey and failing to kick a single goal or point, McGuire’s rotund figure and constant wheezing failed to raise a single eyebrow amongst his new teammates. Ironically, McGuire was exposed only after objecting to Chris Dawes exposing himself and urinating on a waitress in a King street strip club. Dawes, despite now being aware of McGuire’s identity, responded by glassing the president.

In what must have been a tremendously difficult choice for the network – astronomical ratings but almost certain litigation from someone, somewhere – an episode featuring former David Jones chief executive and professional letch Mark McInnes was also dropped. The episode, filmed just weeks before the DJ’s boss was hit with a $37 million sexual harassment suit, featured McInnes going undercover in the women’s underwear department as a bra-fitter.

Had the case not been settled out of court, it is understood that the majority of Kristy Fraser-Kirk’s seven surprise witnesses were shop assistants who worked alongside McInnes during filming of the Undercover Boss episode. Several complaints were also received from customers, apparently unhappy with McInnes’ unorthodox technique for measuring breast size. David Jones refused to comment on the episode, however a spokesperson clarified that all bra-fitters employed by the store are required to use tape measures and are not permitted to perform “free-hand” evaluations under any circumstances.

Straight Outta Melbourne: From the CPT to the ALP

2010-08-19T12:17:00.004+01:00

Written by Peter File

LEATHERY former Prime Minister Bob “Punter” Hawke once famously wagered $500 on the larger of two blowflies crawling up the wall of his office. The proud Australian tradition of betting on dunny budgies is unremarkable in itself, until one considers the fact that prior to laying money down, Hawke had witnessed Paul Keating (treasurer at the time) flicking the fly in question with a wet tea towel. Undeterred and well-known for his love of an underdog, Hawke slapped his money down and watched in delight as the now mono-winged creature staged an improbable come from behind victory.

Until today, this was considered by most pundits to have been the biggest gamble ever taken in Australian politics. Fittingly, it is the Labor Party that has rewritten the history books again. Just two days out from one of the closest elections ever, they have disendorsed Cath Bowtell, their candidate for the seat of Melbourne, and replaced her with Ice Cube, former member of seminal gangsta rap ensemble NWA.

Labor heavyweights and political analysts are split on the move; Kerry O’Brien labelled it as “unadulterated political genius”, whilst heavyweight Laurie Oakes described it as “electoral suicide in its purest form”.

The precise reason for the sudden switch in candidates is not entirely clear as yet, however some have suggested that Labor strategists were concerned that Bowtell was perceived as being soft on crime and punishment. Cube, on the other hand, has made it abundantly clear that he intends to base the majority of his policies around crime and punishment. This is expected to play well in Melbourne, which is currently experiencing a large spike in serious assaults, robberies, and serious assaults and robberies with large spikes.

Opposition leader Tony Abbott struggled to find fault with Cube’s tough stance on absolutely everything, instead criticising the hastily prepared campaign material. Abbott’s previous admission that “I’m no Bill Gates” was reinforced after he claimed that Labor staffers had “clearly used some sort of high-tech computer version of Clag and a photocopier” to attach Cube’s head to a white woman’s body.

A Labor spokesperson criticised Mr Abbott for attempting to bring skin colour into the debate, but acknowledged some campaign material had undergone minor editing with Microsoft Paint due to budget constraints. Cube later issued a profanity-laden statement that described the opposition leader as a “nuttin’ but a mark-ass sucka who probably gonna get got if he keep runnin’ his mouth like that”.

Letters From The Editor: Informality Breeds Contempt

2010-08-11T12:18:00.003+01:00

Written by Eoinín McAlpine

Dear Emma Boardman, Head of Central Underwriting and bestower of munificence,

Thank you kindly for your recent letter. Although dated almost three weeks ago, its significantly profound contribution to the respective worlds of finance and linguistic interpretation had not diminished.

It was with great delight that I learnt that my “recent informal request for an overdraft” had been approved. And by great delight, I mean utter confusion and disbelief, considering the last communiqué I threw your way was what I considered to be a fairly formal request to have my account closed.

The subsequent paragraphs offered little to dull my sense of dissatisfaction. The convoluted explanation of what exactly constitutes an “informal request” according to HSBC was, at best, an excellent example of the type of half-arsed grammar and wasted words that organisations of your ilk are renowned for.

Most dictionaries define informal as, unsurprisingly, being without formality and ceremony, a bit casual. For example, say I wanted to make an informal request for an overdraft with a bank. Personally, I think making informal requests to banks is a bit daft, considering their track record of requiring ridiculous levels of formality for even the most immaterial request, but I’ll persist with this in order to make a point.

So, an informal request for an overdraft facility. One could saunter into their local branch, pay scant regard to any queue and sidle up to the teller, shoot the breeze about the weather or the local sporting team, and then just drop in casually at the end “Oh, yeah, can I have an overdraft?” before leaving without signing anything or providing any information to the teller other than one’s nickname. Pretty informal, I think you’ll agree.

Alas, this is not what happened between you and I. It was more like this:

ME: Hey, Emma, can you please shut that door? I don’t need it open ever again.
YOU: Hi Owen, we are pleased to announce that your informal request for an annual subscription to Marie Claire magazine has been approved!
ME: The door’s still open.

I must say that even whilst England lies in smouldering ruins from a crippling recession brought on by manifestly irresponsible lending practices, it is refreshing to come across a bank looking to forget that unfortunate chapter in financial history and get on with the job of handing out debt to those least able to service it, or in this case, people who didn’t ask for it in the first place.

Perhaps you could extend this glorious new policy of informality to other areas of your business. Review CCTV footage from branches, and issue a mortgage to any customer observed glancing at posters advertising your current variable interest rate. Or, alternatively, you could just close my account and never contact me ever again.

Yours informally,

Eoinín McAlpine

In-depth election coverage: woman wears outfits, says things in interview with women's magazine

2010-07-28T13:05:00.007+01:00

Russia and Romania on brink of war, hairy ass blamed

2010-07-20T10:24:00.003+01:00

Written by Nataliya Dmitrieva

SCARF-wearing continental Europeans are waiting with bated and probably cheesy breath as the region nervously awaits the outcome of a disagreement between Russia, a nuclear superpower, and Romania, a country whose chief export is the absurd.

Until recently, the two countries were engaged in civilised talks regarding growing concern in Russia that its close neighbour is developing a human/bear hybrid which has the ability to beg for change and perform demeaning roller skate-based tricks at the same time.

Romanian authorities admit they are in possession of many bears and roller-skates, but insist they are for peaceful purposes. Citing credible intelligence, Russia insisted that Romania allow UN weapons inspectors into the country to scrutinize the growing number of roller skate silos in the north of the country. Enraged by what he saw as bullying tactics by the Russians, Romanian President Traian Băsescu ordered his armed forces to unleash the full force of the Romanian arsenal upon Russia.

Late this afternoon, the full horror of that decision was realised, as a mature male donkey parachuted onto a Russian beach. Whether the intent was to have the donkey injure Russian soldiers or civilians by landing on top of them, or if it was trained by the Romanian armed forces to land behind enemy lines and bite people is unclear, but Russia has clearly been agitated by the attack.

Russian defence minister Anatoliy Serdyukov issued a statement expressing deep concern that Romania could launch further long-range donkeys, or even bears. When asked of the fate of the donkey, Serdyukov stated that he expected Prime Minister Vladimir Putin to ride the donkey, then hunt and shoot it to illustrate the extraordinary power of man.

Woman spotted wearing pants and running country, leaving kitchen ironically unmanned

2010-07-06T12:10:00.003+01:00

Written by Annette Curtain

BLATANTLY female Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard is so drunk on power that she doesn’t care what she wears and will lead the country to a spectacularly fiery and horrible demise, says a woman who has her own website.

Imogen Lamport, image consultant and amateur political scientist, claims that major policy announcements will be ignored by the masses unless our dowdy PM sorts herself out. Already, it is thought that today’s announcement of Labor’s border protection policy was overshadowed by Gillard’s insistence on wearing trousers, long thought to be the domain of men.

It’s another nail in the coffin for Gillard, who has already admitted that she has no children and is in a gay relationship with a male hairdresser. Lamport believes that the PM should follow the example of Governor General Quentin Bryce, who is also a girl but wears nice bright skirts like a good girl should.

Lamport denied that she was a male masquerading as a woman in order to get away with throwing irrelevant but nonetheless damaging grenades at Sisterhood HQ, and said that if former PM and trouser-wearer Kevin Rudd was a woman then he would have received the same sage advice as Gillard.

Police declare war on tint, incorrectly fitted baseball caps

2010-06-29T11:43:00.003+01:00

Written by Frank Serpico

SQUELCHY leather clad policemen with extendable truncheons have responded to the rise in serious assaults occurring on public transport and Melbourne’s streets by declaring war – on tinted windows.

Victoria Police claim that a number of road collisions have involved vehicles with windows so dark that the driver’s view has been obscured. Precisely what that number is wasn’t revealed by police, but is thought to be close to the number of crashes caused by untethered armadillos wandering on freeways.

Police are cautiously optimistic that taking a hard line against motorists with tinted windows will cause the number of serious assaults committed by pedestrians to fall sharply. Leading Senior Constable Steve Hillman claims they’re not drawing a long bow either, citing the success of New York City Mayor Rudi Giuliani’s “Broken Windows” approach to petty crime.

“Take your average glasser on the street, about to carve up some poor bloke’s face with a schooner,” drawled Constable Hillman in his police issue monotone. “They see a cop booking someone for having tinted windows, they’re gonna stop and think, geez, if these blokes are that serious about tinted glass, what are they going to do if they see me put glass in some bloke’s face?”

Operation: Tinted Windows Are Illegal has been described by civil libertarians as “one of the most unimaginative titles for a police operation ever”.

White man gave black man money, says newspaper

2010-06-22T12:06:00.003+01:00

Written by Vortman De Ville

PILLORIED former football player and amateur comedian Mal Brown is actually not a racist at all, and a highly respected publication has just the story to prove it. Many were quick to condemn Brown after he referred to Aboriginal players as “cannibals”; one hopes that those same folk shall be just as hasty in forgiving him in light of this new evidence.

After hearing that former teammate Maurice Rioli’s penchant for an occasional flutter had developed into an unquenchable thirst for gambling riches and subsequently led to him having to hock some expensive golf clubs, Saint Mal stepped in. Rather than doing the predictable thing and calling Rioli a cannibal, Brown slapped down $7500 (allowing for inflation, almost $7700 today), securing the release of Rioli’s golf clubs.

Many are hoping that this heart-warming tale sets a precedent, whereby anybody that does or says anything nasty to anyone is exonerated should it later be discovered that they once did or said something nice to a person from the same ethnic or socio-economic background as their victim.

British Petroleum are said to be taking a keen interest in the case after learning that CEO Tony Hayward did a project on whales when he was in primary school.

Plot to steal the moon foiled by heroic leader

2010-06-07T12:26:00.002+01:00

Written by Katsuki Akimoto

GALLANT Premier of the Democratic Republic of Queensland, Anna Bligh, has thwarted a Machiavellian plot from the southern states to steal the moon from her people. Bligh first learnt of the plot after Independent MP Peter Wellington, who was possibly not independent at all, introduced a daylight saving Bill designed to enslave the chosen people of the north.

The cunning legislation would have forced Queenslanders to toil for up to 24 hours a day in blazing sunlight, disorienting them and depriving them of sleep until they collapsed from exhaustion. At this point, it is thought that strike teams from the lower states would have crossed the border and stolen the moon, before selling off its precious cheesy goodness at exorbitant prices to wealthy cheese prospectors from Europe.

Upon learning of the scheme, Chancellor Bligh had the legislation struck out and slew Wellington with her sword of obsidian and pewter. Wellington’s carcass shall be paraded throughout Brisbane as a timely reminder that the pointy state is not, and shall never be a place where daylight saving and other such southern wankery is tolerated in any form.

Curtain manufacturers, who stood to probably triple or even double their profit due to all the faded curtains that an extra hour of sunlight would have brought, said that they respected the Premier’s bravery and supported further acts of sun-kissed rebellion.

Al “Bundy” Langer, president of the Queensland Beef Growing Association, welcomed the slaying. He said that additional physical manifestations of defiance against southern values would ensure that the cows of Queensland need not fear the confusion and crippling illness that perpetual sunlight would surely bring.

Refrigerator pledges to govern for all, keep food and drinks cool also

2010-05-13T12:49:00.004+01:00

Written by Annette Curtain

FISHNET aficionado and chief side-parter of the Tories, David Cameron, has announced that his party has formed a coalition with a refrigerator, ending days of speculation as to who would govern Britain. Very few political commentators expected to see what is being heralded as the first Conservative/white good government in almost 60 years.

Lib-Dem leader, Nick Clegg, was said to be privately fuming at the public snub by the Tories. Explaining the party’s decision, Prime Minister Cameron noted that there was far too great a disparity in policy between his party and Mr Clegg’s.

“After examining the respective party manifestos, the decision was frightfully easy,” Cameron said. “Conservatives, refrigerators, and especially the British public, do not want their milk to be spoilt, nor their meat tainted.”

While stopping short of accusing Clegg and his party of encouraging some sort of socialist paradise where perishable products are left to go sour and develop culture unchecked, the implication was clear.

“Food temperature is not the issue here,” barked a clearly irate Clegg. “The issue is whether or not the British people want a bloody fridge holding the second highest position in the land, when it should be at home, in the kitchen, keeping food cold.”

Deputy PM Refrigerator responded immediately to Mr Clegg’s vitriolic tirade, claiming that the Lib-Dem leader was stuck in the past.

“This is the 21st century,” it hummed. “We live in an age where fridges, washing machines and even women need no longer fear having their dreams crushed by dinosaurs like Mr Clegg, who would rather we be at home, performing menial tasks so that he may have clean socks and unspoilt milk when he arrives home from doing his big boy job.”

Government anti-drug campaign up in smoke, hippies amused

2010-05-06T12:42:00.005+01:00

Written by Vortman De Ville

EMBARRASSED Australian Government health department officials have admitted that their most recent anti-drugs campaign may have slightly missed the mark. The latest “Marijuana: what a waste” campaign depicts a dishevelled youth, presumably stoned to within an inch of his life, contemplating his own unrealised potential as a world champion swimmer. The message is simple: smoke dope, relinquish dreams of sporting glory.

This was no doubt news to Michael Phelps, who somehow found time between smoking bongs and listening to Willie Nelson albums to win a record eight gold medals at the Beijing Olympics.

The health department issued a statement claiming that many other sports had been considered but were discounted after research uncovered a litany of substance-addled sports people, including but not limited to: dope-smoking sprinters and snowboarders, ecstasy-abusing rugby players, coked-up soccer players, and Dock Ellis, the US baseball player who once managed to pitch a no-hitter despite, by his own admission, being under the influence of LSD for the duration of the game.

Dr Frank Putney, department chief, dismissed rumours from the press gallery that swimming had been chosen after a junior staffer suggested that it would be impossible to smoke marijuana underwater.

Dr Putney similarly refused to be drawn on suggestions the department will use the same image with amended text for the remainder of the campaign, nor whether or not the slogan being considered is “Marijuana: it gives you man boobs”.

Michael Phelps refused to comment or giggle uncontrollably.

Letters From The Editor: I got 99 problems, and dead wasps are one of them

2010-03-25T10:21:00.002Z

Written by Eoinín McAlpine

Dear Real Estate Agent,

I write with regards to the property you recently leased to myself and my partner, on behalf of Charlie the Landlord. It cannot be denied that this is a fine abode, or as you would put it – an irresistibly brick townhouse containing numerous doors and windows, all within walking distance of public transport and local amenities.

As far as rental properties go, it is most satisfactory. Charlie Himself - hallowed be his name, socks and sandals - has dealt with the few minor problems that have arisen swiftly. The charming foibles of the oven, undoubtedly a priceless relic from the gold rush period, were no challenge for Our Charlie, whose dress sense and encyclopedic knowledge of prehistoric stoves betrayed his true vintage and/or time travelling abilities.

Enough pleasantries, Real Estate Agent. You know as well as I do that tenants don’t produce whimsical missives for the sake of it. We have a bone to pick, and this particular bone has six legs, two wings, stripes and a nasty stinging implement attached to it. If the penny hasn’t dropped yet, I commend the permanent state of professional denial that you have attained.

The real estate industry of the United States of America has a rather chequered history, as I’m sure you’ll agree. Amongst various regrettable incidents, surely the most well publicised was the short-sighted practice of building dwellings upon ancient Indian burial grounds. Cheap they might have been, but a diminutive mortgage is no consolation when you’re having to deal with blood dripping from the walls, knives flying through the air and understandably aggrieved spirits messing with you all because some silver-tongued real estate agent who was gagging for a modest commission said, yeah, what’s the big deal about building a three-bedroom bungalow with city views on top of somebody’s grave?

Which brings me to the wasps. As I cast my gaze over the exposed brickwork, faux spiral staircase, and cutting edge pine trim, it is impossible to put the construction of this building anywhere later than 1975. Which, by my calculations, allows the various owners and tenants more than three decades to bring to the attention of the real estate the fact that this is, without a shadow of doubt, THE PLACE WHERE WASPS COME TO DIE.

At first there were just a couple of them. They appeared spasmodically, lying atop a shelving unit in pairs, or in the tracks for the sliding doors. Undeniably dead, they posed no threat to us. But then the numbers increased, as did the locations. The desk, bedside tables, the window sill in the bathroom; the more exhibitionistic amongst them chose the middle of the living room floor as their final resting place.

I have sat at my dining table and watched in abject horror as yet another wasp stumbles across the threshold, writhing in pain, tiny little eyes bulging with terror as it suffers from spasm after spasm of searing, inexplicable pain, crying to me in its pathetic little buzzing waspy voice, “Why? Why me? Why here? WHY?”

It was, and still is, utterly perplexing. After crawling into open cans of soft drink uninvited, after ruining a plethora of summer picnics, after assassinating legions of relatively defenceless native bees, why do these undeniably useless and miserable stinging bastards decide upon our humble home as their final resting place?

You know. I know you do. I saw it in your shifty eyes as I signed the lease. I read it between the lines when you send me those infuriatingly impersonal invitations to those “wealth creation seminars” each month. Oh, I bet they’d be a real eye opener. I can just see the feckless high school dropouts that attend those things, hanging on your every slimy word.

When they asked, “Excuse me, Wealth Creation Guru, but what if a property you are attempting to lease is an obvious final resting place for the bulk of Australia’s wasp population?” you would violently slam your fist upon the lectern, and fix a steely gaze on their disgustingly penniless form.

“Well, my impoverished, BMWless protégé, that is quite simple,” you would slobber, forked tongue slapping against your oily lips. “You would tell those morons that the previous tenants probably applied an anti-insect surface spray to the perimeter of the premises.”

Smug prick.

Kind regards,

Eoinín McAlpine

Migrants predicted to steal the souls of white folk by 2050, expert warns

2010-03-23T12:29:00.003Z

Written by Peter File

WAVE upon wave of shifty, jihad-loving, Chiko Roll-hating immigrants plan to infiltrate and destroy Australia, a man has revealed. Dr Bob Birrell, president of the Australian Tabloid Sound Bite Institute, is the lone voice of reason in a filthy, amoral world that lost its way a long time ago.

Extensively researched research, carried out by Dr Birrell, proves that the days of having to worry about immigrants stealing your job, unemployment benefits and sexual partner are almost over. Unfortunately for lovers of freedom and meat pies, things are about to get a whole lot worse.

A new breed of immigrant, unsatisfied with the billions of taxpayer dollars showered upon it by bleeding-heart do-gooders with a penchant for shitake mushrooms floating in glasses of chardonnay, craves more. Saliva dripping from its yellowed, state-run teeth, the neo-immigrant fixes its crazed stare upon everything that you hold dear: the AFL, stubby-holders, utes with southern cross stickers, lamingtons, and yes, even David Boon.

The neo-immigrant wants all of these sacred items, though not to appreciate them as any decent Australian would. Not unlike the evil terminator in the Terminator movie franchise, it just wants to destroy you and all your stuff.

Dr Birrell said he was pleased as punch that journalists were drawing their own conclusions from his research, which clearly shows that by 2050, immigrants will probably number about 8 billion, and will almost certainly have enslaved white Australians and forced them to mine for weird immigrant minerals in the desert.

Flaunting his bipartisan credentials, Dr Birrell laid the blame for the imminent downfall of Australian society squarely at the expensive Italian leather shoes covering the feet of “Labor elites”, whom he thinks are more concerned with an immigration policy that will appease the hand-wringing pooves at their next short film festival, where they will undoubtedly serve delicate canapés and fizzy glasses of white guilt.

Top cop hijacks commercial airliner, says “LOL, sorry guyz”

2010-03-19T12:06:00.003Z

Written by Frank Serpico

SUPERCOP Simon Overland has sparked a minor aviation security scare after hijacking a domestic flight and attempting to reroute it to the socialist paradise of Cuba. The notorious prankster wore a sheepish smile when he fronted the media today, writing the incident off as a poorly timed attempt at comedy that would have been received well if it hadn’t occurred at 30,000 feet above the ground in a small metal cylinder filled with surprisingly nervy occupants.

The stunt earned him a predictably humourless rebuke from Community & Public Sector Union state secretary Karen Batt, a self-confessed communist and hater of champagne comedy.

“By his own admission, Mr Overland boarded the flight with carry-on luggage containing an AK-47 assault rifle and several live grenades. After the aircraft reached altitude, he brandished the machine gun and a grenade and shouted various pro-Cuban slogans at the understandably terrified passengers,” bleated the presumably unmarried Ms Batt.

Chief Commissioner Overland, or “Sergeant Funnypants” as he is known within the force, issued a partial apology to the handful of passengers that didn’t get the joke. He explained that the prank was a joint promotional exercise between the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and Victoria Police, whom he said “have a lot more going on than just taking bribes and beating up minorities.”

Anorexics not as funny as fat people, says media

2010-03-16T11:31:00.004Z

Written by Logan Bluetooth

WIDELY respected and thoroughly credible media outlets of the internet have played yet another game of “funny/not funny”, and the results are in. Morbidly obese people have been declared pants-splittingly funny, whilst sufferers of passé 20th century eating disorders such as anorexia are decidedly unfunny.

After weeks of painstaking examination of the case for and against both body profiles, journalists’ opinions were swayed by a woman with an elephantine hunger for success and double cheeseburgers.

Donna Simpson, allegedly a 42-year-old human female, currently weighs 273kg but is hoping to add the equivalent of twin baby elephants to her frustratingly svelte figure. By reaching her goal weight of 450kg (1000lb), Ms Simpson will hold the résumé-worthy title of world’s fattest woman. Her husband will hold a heavy goods vehicle licence.

The implausibly unemployed Ms Simpson offsets her gargantuan grocery bill by running a website where perfectly normal men pay to watch her shovel deep fried buckets of the top of the food pyramid down her gelatinous throat.

Various tabloid media outlets, such as this one, said they couldn’t see any ethical problem whatsoever with publishing such a story. They also claimed that they wouldn’t hesitate to run a similar story on an anorexic person striving for the title of world’s skinniest person, but that the eating disorders of the skeletal just weren’t as hilarious as humanoid/whale hybrids.

Australian government bans punctuation, YouTube users’ existence legitimised

2010-03-11T12:17:00.004Z

Written by Eoinín McAlpine

THE Federal Government of Australia, an uncouth, convict-infested island to the west of New Zealand, has announced it will proceed with controversial plans to censor all forms of punctuation on the internet after Government-commissioned research found that life on the web would be simpler without “all them dots and squiggles”.

Federal Uncommunications Minister, Stephen Conroy, said today he would introduce legislation just before the next election that will force Internet Service Providers to block a blacklist of punctuation marks for all Australian internet users.

The blacklist, featuring commas, semi-colons, apostrophes and other sick filth, would be compiled using submissions to the Government’s hugely popular “Dob In A Wanker” hotline and website. The campaign encouraged mum and dad internet users to report acts of aggravated pedantry, smug stickleriness, and undue displays of learning. It has been a huge success; over 5000 internet users alone have been fined for explaining the difference between his and he’s.

“Most decent Australians acknowledge that the majority of punctuation, if not all of it, has no place on the internet or in civilised society in this day and age,” Senator Conroy said.

“It is important that all Australians, particularly younger folk, are protected from this material. We’ve got members of Generation Y that have never seen an apostrophe used correctly, let alone a semi-colon. The last thing they need is some bicycle-riding, latte-swilling wanker from the inner-city confusing them with two different spellings of your.”

Members of paramilitary group the Apostrophista Army of National Liberation will be vigorously pursued by the censorship scheme. AANL’s website carries the bold statement that “no government shall silence the noble apostrophe”. The extremist organisation also claims to engage in correct usage of commas, full stops, paragraphs and even hyphens. Senator Conroy has pledged that any members of the group brought to justice will be forced to have bright yellow apostrophes sewn to the outside of their garments.

Deaf lion that thinks it's a singer forms adult contemporary rock band, gains no critical acclaim whatsoever

2010-03-04T11:17:00.006Z

Written by Peter File

ONE would be forgiven for thinking that African lions and adult contemporary rock bands were not natural bed fellows, especially after the singer from The Goo Goo Dolls was savagely mauled whilst on safari in 2003.

But a hearing-impaired lion that thinks it's a singer has adopted a litter of adult contemporary musicians, much to the delight of their hundreds of fans. The unusually scrawny lion, Chad, has taken to standing in front of the band and singing the “lyrics” he has penned, despite having no discernable talent whatsoever.

The band’s manager, Chase McCool, saved Chad from a cruel life of performing demeaning tricks for slack-jawed circus folk.

“I first came across Chad at a two-bit travelling circus in my home town,” said McCool. “He was clearly undernourished, and being forced to dance and do tricks with a circus ball. He kept trying to sing Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey, but the lion tamer just kept whipping him on the snout every time he opened his jaws.”

Appalled, McCool bought Chad from the circus owner for $50, took him home and nursed him back to health on a steady diet of Simply Red and Matchbox 20. While still clearly on the wrong side of emaciated, Chad is now a picture of health when compared with his former self.

He now enjoys a decidedly blessed life, touring with his adopted band mates and partaking in his favourite pastime – shooting music videos. A natural performer, Chad thrills viewers with his signature moves The Air Chin-up, and Catching Invisible Blowflies.

Godzilla promises "less atomic breath" after nomination for Japanese prime minister

2010-03-02T11:53:00.009Z

Written by Nataliya Dmitrieva

MUTANT amphibious lizard and all-around troublemaker, Godzilla, is set to become prime minister of Japan after government officials agreed to nominate him for the position.

The Japanese Karaoke Reformist Party and the Progressive Japanese Manga Party officially nominated Godzilla today after months of discussion and dispute over who would be their joint candidate.

JKRP pushed hard for Godzilla while PJMP was equally adamant that the winged terror of Tokyo, Mothra, could govern for all Japanese people. Feminist factions of both parties also signalled their support for Mothra, who has been a strong role model for Japanese females, be they human or divine moth.

Under the Japanese prime ministerial rotation, a kaiju of some description must lead the country for a four-year term at least once a century.

Godzilla said he was honoured and humbled to receive the joint nomination, and would focus on not destroying infrastructure rather than the somewhat destructive approach he has taken in previous years.

The third-party candidate, Rodan, could not immediately be reached for comment.

Hipsters showed 'absolute elitism' by swimming into baited bogan trap

2009-12-28T08:09:00.008Z

Written by Peter File

TRENDY hipsters in skinny jeans who made elitist gestures from inside a baited bogan trap whilst their friend stood on top of the cage eating organic feta were criticised for their "absolute elitism" by furious authorities in the Northern Territory.

Bogans - considered by most historians to be the true natives of Australia - have become a major pest of late, especially in the waterways of the Northern Territory. Tourists have complained that drunken bogans, generally piloting jet skis, have behaved in a menacing fashion and encouraged female tourists to expose their breasts.

Authorities have responded by setting traps baited with six packs of Bundaberg rum and coke, Lleyton Hewitt calendars and Ed Hardy t-shirts. After successful capture, the bogans are generally released in bogan-friendly locations, such as the Australian F1 Grand Prix, or a casino.

An image of the three bogan-mocking hipsters, all wearing Ray-Ban Wayfarers or horn-rimmed glasses with no lenses, surfaced yesterday after being posted on Monobook - an obscure social networking website where members convey emotions by posting images of their left eyebrow in binary code.

The photo shows one hipster atop the floating metal cage listening to music of a yet to be discovered genre on a community radio station that doesn’t transmit on FM or AM, and two more hipsters inside, eating a dish from a country that you haven’t heard of and probably never will, you ape.

Northern Territory Parks and Wildlife rangers have labelled the act as "a typical load of southern wankery."

"It won't be tolerated anymore," senior ranger and self-appointed bogan guardian Bruce Leonard said. "If they want to be edgy, they should stick to creating unauthorised inner city art installations that become nutritious organic meals for the homeless once they have bypassed their cultural relevance."

"Mocking bogans is like shooting fish in a barrel. Or a cage."

"We will investigate this case and if we find out who they are, they will be punished accordingly.

"The agency has zero tolerance with hipsters interfering with bogan traps.”

Offenders could be banned from owning vinyl records or forced to live in a mock Tudor mansion in a housing estate with palm trees, the Northern Territory Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act states.

EXCLUSIVE: Aussie pilgrimage tipped to see Schapelle Corby become a saint

2009-12-20T03:31:00.005Z

Written by Craig Lovato

THOUSANDS of Australians are expected to descend on Bali next year to see convicted drug smuggler Schapelle Corby become the nation's first saint.

Pope Benedict XVI is due to soon confirm he will canonise the Gold Coast’s favourite daughter in a special service on Kuta Beach. Preparations are already underway after the Pope on the weekend decreed Corby's second miracle.

Corby had earned her stripes to become a saint and all Australians should try to behave more like her, self-confessed party animal and occasional Archbishop of Sydney Cardinal George Pell said today.

Cardinal Pell said Our Schapelle fought many battles with rival drug syndicates when establishing the infamous Sisters of Surfers Paradise, and should probably be seen as a role model for young women.

“At times she was treated badly, and what was remarkable about her was she was still able to remain firmly in control of an extremely profitable exportation syndicate,” Cardinal Pell giggled through a cloud of funny-smelling smoke to a group of reporters this morning.

“Probably the best thing we can do to preserve Schapelle Corby's memory is to try to act like she did.

“Try to disregard the laws of foreign countries where possible, and if the man gets all up in your face and starts hassling you, just say you didn’t do it.”

Cardinal Talksalot went on to say that Schappers had “earned her stripes” and the decree of her second miracle was “a shot in the arm for the Australian people, or at least the bogans amongst youse.”

Jubilant crowds from around the world will be drawn in to see several other misunderstood entrepreneurs be made saints at the same time, including Howard Marks, George Jung and former Colombian political lobbyist Pablo Escobar.

Australian pilgrims will all have a special matching item of clothing to show their support for Corby.

Sister Mercedes Corby, who led the canonisation campaign, said canonisation services were “heaps good, ay, they’re grouse!”

“All them other groups have their own symbols,” said Sr Mercedes, who attended a canonisation earlier this year and said it “went off”.

“Some of them wear scarves, some of them wear hats and some have backpacks and shit.

“We're looking at it. It has to be something that can be easily brought here to Indonesia and not attract too much attention from customs.”

Before the Pope emerges for the service, there are readings about the lives of those who are about to be canonised and ceremonial peace pipes lit in their honour.

Sr Mercedes said: “I'll be getting some tickets, so youse can get them off me if you want, but youse can just get them from Ticketek too, ay.

“There’s usually no limits because there’s shitloads of room at Kuta. But get there early so youse get a good seat.”

The second miracle relates to a literary agent having his job saved after more than 100 copies of Corby’s autobiography, I Didn’t Do It, Ay, were sold this year.

“He wants to remain unknown for the moment because he wants the focus to be on Schapelle,” Sr Mercedes said. “And her book.”