Sunday, August 30, 2009

What Would He Do?

After a busy start to the day (up at 6.45am to drive lovely flattie to the airport for her holiday to the red centre, followed by a bit of Ikea shopping and a Sunday work shift), I collapsed on the sofa about 4pm with a cup of tea and switched on the TV for a bit of mind-numbing chillaxing.

Sunday afternoon is not known for being much chop in the TV department (unless you have Foxtel, which I refuse to have on account of I'd never get off the sofa and I'd end up one of those horribly obese people who have to be lifted out of the house via a crane), so I was prepared for
football, Sunday Arts or that dreadful holiday show with Frankie J Holden and his missus where they take free trips to caravan parks and bark on about how wonderful it is.

However, it was not to be.

Imagine my delight when this lovely fella popped up on Channel Ten:

This truly was one of the great series of the 80s. The man made science and math seem like useful skills to have. Not that I bothered learning either skill, being more artistically inclined, but then I never wanted to be MacGyver. Unlike some people I know...

No, I just admired the man for his talents. And good looks.

Oh come on, admit it. EVERYONE had a little bit of a crush on MacGyver. Even boys. What that man could do with a swiss army knife, a roll of gaffa and some chewing gum was amazing. And he was hot.


The teenage m_m would have gladly grown up to be Mrs MacGyver.

Stop laughing. There are worse things to have wanted to be. Like Mrs T.

So anyway, I find out there's been talk of a movie being made. Hurrah, I think! A whole 100+ minutes of MacGyver action and excitement and hotness.

Bring it on.

Until... I stumbled across a snap of how Richard Dean Anderson has aged.

MacGyver hot? MacGyver not.

Oh dear.

How are they going to work that into the script?

Time really is a cruel mistress sometimes.

But snaps to Channel Ten for programming this gem in an otherwise dull timeslot. May I tune in again next week?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Where's the Dignity?

This really is one of those shake your head, sigh and say "what's the world coming to" kind of moments.

Not so much because the man was a reality TV contestant who was obviously desperate for his five minutes of fame or that his wife-of-five-minutes was a former Playboy model. As tacky as all that is, that's not why this particular case piqued my interest. And its not because he's pretty much confirmed his guilt at the crime by committing suicide, which is pretty weak in my book. No. What fascinated me about this case was that:

"Investigators used the serial numbers on her breast implants to identify her, the Orange County district attorney's office said."

That poor girl. Fancy only being able to be identified by the serial numbers on your breast implants.

What's the world coming to indeed...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

This Is How It Went...

Conviction is a wonderful thing.

Let's just check on what we planned last night:

  • Freo will have their game face on.

    Check. They sure did. Pearce was outstanding early on and McPharlin and Pavlich stepped up to the plate like the legends they are.

  • The Bombers will be plagued by injuries and lose their mettle.

    Check. The loss of Lucas and Lloyd, amongst others was always going to be a big factor. A few of the youngsters tried their hardest but just couldn't sustain a comeback.

  • Freo will score a rare, yet convincing win, to keep them safely away from the wooden spoon and the Bombers will drop back to 9th place on the ladder.

    Convincing? Well, I reckon 54 points is pretty bloody convincing. Although the Bombers still hold 8th place, it all comes down to next week, which is virtually an elimination final. Excitement, much.

  • Which, after tonight's solid 42 pt win over the Tigers, will put my boys in the 8.

    We're not there yet, but if we win next week... WHICH WE WILL, we'll be into the finals.

And that's all I'm asking.

Oh and gorgeous scene on the 12:16pm train from Yarraville to Flinders St today:

Seddon station. On jumps Dad, Master Six and Master Four. All kitted out in Saints guernseys/sweatshirts/scarves, with Master Six and Master Four's cheeks painted in stripes of black, white and red. Adorable.

South Kensington station. On jumps Mum and Master Five. Mum dressed casually, Master Five decked out in Kangaroos guernsey and cap, clutching a blue and white flag which is about twice his size in one hand, and Mum's hand in the other. Super adorable.

Masters Six and Four eye up the new addition to the carriage, then Master Four takes a step forward, grabs his scarf, raises his arm and proclaims:


Cue a few raised eyebrows and giggles from fellow passengers.

Without missing a beat, or letting go of Mum's hand, Master Five calmly replies:

"We'll just see what happens at the final siren."

Cue full on laughter, applause and cheers from fellow passengers.

When I heard the final score this afternoon I couldn't help but give a little cheer for Master Five and imagine what he would have said if he'd run into Master Four on the way home...

Bless their little blue & white and black, white & red cottons.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

This Is How It Goes...


Here's how tomorrow is going to go.

  • Freo will have their game face on.

  • The Bombers will be plagued by injuries and lose their mettle.

  • Freo will score a rare, yet convincing win, to keep them safely away from the wooden spoon and the Bombers will drop back to 9th place on the ladder.

  • Which, after tonight's solid 42 pt win over the Tigers, will put my boys in the 8.

That IS how it will go.

I'm convinced the football gods will make it so.

No hoping. No wishing. Just conviction.

Failure is not an option Dockers. Or I will go west and kick your ass.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Dear Mr Sony (remember me?)

Hi Mr Sony,

Yep, me again. Got an awesome idea for you this time. Kind of a cross between SingStar and Guitar Hero.

TV Theme Sing'n'Play Hero Star.

Like it? I personally think its a little bit genius.

You get to either sing TV themes (if there are words) or play them (if they're instrumental). Or both, in the case of a theme like The Dukes of Hazzard (you could adapt the guitar to be a banjo).

Think of the possibilities. Just THINK!

Here's a few I came up with which I'd like to sing (besides The Dukes of Hazzard):

  • Charles in Charge
  • I'm No Superman (Scrubs)
  • Not The Boss of Me (Malcolm in the Middle)
  • Growing Pains
  • Punky Brewster
  • Family Ties
  • Who's The Boss?
  • Laverne & Shirley
  • Fresh Prince of Bel Air
  • The Facts of Life
  • Diff'rent Strokes
  • Cheers
  • Full House
  • The Brady Bunch
  • Perfect Strangers

Enough? Oh yeah, Eight is Enough. That one too.

And for playing... well there's heaps of them too.

  • MacGyver (imagine the drum content of this one... awesome)
  • Knots Landing
  • Baywatch
  • Grange Hill
  • Head of the Class (if you had a piano component it could get very twiddly which would sort the men from the boys)
  • Mork & Mindy
  • Knight Rider
  • The Professionals
  • The A Team
  • Beverly Hills 90210*
  • Melrose Place**

There's loads. LOADS.

I strongly suggest you bring it up at your next brainstorming session. I reckon it'd be a real winner. I'd buy it.



* Updated to incorporate elaine's brilliant suggestion.
** On the back of elaine's brilliant suggestion, I had to add this one for sheer guitar component potential.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Sautéed in Wrong Sauce... Again*

Oh. My. Goodness.

Tommy Lee really does refuse to grow old gracefully doesn't he?

Reading this article during breakfast this morning nearly caused me to choke on my tea.

Burnt his hand whilst playing with sparklers. How old is he, 9???

But you've gotta give the guy credit for freely admitting that he's an idiot.

You just wouldn't wanna date him.




Couldn't date you Tommy. But can have a bit of a giggle at your expense and thank you for reminding all of us that while growing OLD is inevitable, growing UP is optional.

Tommy Lee, we salute you.

* for those who don't know or remember my obsession with Tommy Lee, click here. Or here. Or here.

Friday, August 07, 2009

I just want them to know that they didn't break me...

I read the news today, oh boy.

John Hughes passed away, aged 59. As a teenager of the 80's, John Hughes probably had more influence on who I am than any other person in the world. Big statement I know, but as a teenager who never felt that she fitted in, he told the stories that made me feel just a little bit better about being me.

He (and Molly Ringwald) showed me that its ok to be an individual. That its ok to not be part of the cool clique. That its what's inside a person that truly counts and you can find love anywhere if you look deep enough.

So I was a little sad today to hear about John.

And then I read this post.

And I cried.

Because its not just me that feels like a part of my youth has gone forever.

And because a part of it will live on because John Hughes captured what mattered to me at that particular point in time.

Because he listened. And observed. And then told our stories.

Vale John Hughes. I never knew you and you never knew me, but you were one of the most important people I never met.

And thank you.