Thursday, May 8, 2008
The agony, the ecstasy, the Logie
And the best Logie goes to.....
...us. For best coverage of this historic event. Thankyou for the requests for some 'Tube of our superb Sally from Home and Away is Leaving special. We shall endeavour to prise.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Show With No Name playlist April 29
The memorial vials of rock set for Tom McKenneyLooks like I found the playlist for our special show live from Her Majesty's Theatre during the Chaser show... we started out giving Tom his due props and then made our way into some classic stuff - come on, where else on the radio are you gonna find The Waitresses as well as Tasmania's greatest ever hardcore/rock band, Mouth?
Nowhere, I sez!
Any Downers - Frank Zappa
Dancin' Fool - Frank Zappa
(He'll Never Be An) Ole Man River - TISM
God My Heart Is Ready - Chris Whitley
Could I Have Been So Blind - Black Crowes
Trespassing - Skull Snaps
I Know What Boys Like - The Waitresses
I Wanna Rock - Twisted Sister
Victim Chant - Mouth
Holy Diver - Dio
They Hated Us In Scandinavia - The Dirtbombs
Everglade - L7
Non-Alignment Pact - Pere Ubu
Young Spunk - Buster Brown
7 O'Clock Rock set:
Gotta Go - Agnostic Front
Accelerator - The Dwarves
Time's Up - Living Colour
80s Girl - The Descendants
Shakin Rock and Roll - Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
A.Harry Mainstay - Mars Volta
Weird Revolution - Butthole Surfers
Tommy the Cat - Primus
Hole in her Belly - Pig in a Can
Magic Fingers - Frank Zappa
14 Years in Rowville - TISM
Nothing's Ever Gonna Be the Same Again - You Am I
Los Hombres No Elan - Voodoo Glowskulls
You Are What You Is - The Persuasions
Satanville - The Throwaways
Bang Shang A Lang - Bay City Rollers
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Feelin' kinda Tubey
Been experimenting with this new fangled Youtube player.... click on the doohickey to the right of the play button and you'll find some of my latest Youtube faves, including (but not limited to) the classic Adrian Edmundson-directed video for Zodiac Mindwarp, the Saul Bass-style remake of the Star Wars opening credits, Mick Dog's awesome find of the 1950s Mum throwing knives at her children, and the classic drum battle between Buddy Rich and Animal on the Muppets among others.
Get into it! Soon enough we'll have footage of MickDog's awesome 'All You Can Meat' tour of late night Ballarat, proving once again that Ralph magazine has the latest news when it comes to social movements in our once golden city...
And thanks for all the correspondence (none) but I can't seem to find the playlist for the special Chaser-edition broadcast for the Show.... so it goes
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Show with No Name and Todd McKenney: revelations
It's true. All the rumours are true. Lenny reveals our part in the Todd McKenney media circus here:
More news at 11...
More news at 11...
Thursday, May 1, 2008
More reality than one show can handle
Hello Fans,
I'd just like to thank Bigguth Dicketh for their comments on Ballarat as the rootiest place on Earth (see comments on "This is where we Live").
As to changing the motto I think there are some fine suggestions.
Other mottos I'd considered were "Ballarat! Will root for piss!" or "Crack a Fat in Ballarat!" or "Buy me a drink and you can sink the pink".
Of course the next thing to do is to create a reality television program, filmed in several local locations, called "The Night Rider" where contestants are pitted against each other to pick up as many drunken hump bunnies as they can in a single night.
Points given for creative bonking locations, evading security cameras and not giving out their real names.
Points deducted for spewing (either party), poor coital performance and pregnancy.
In my opinion, if something as lame as "The Girls of the Playboy mansion" can cobble together half an hour of some blonde ninnies buying a Gonk doll in their hometown of Arsecrack, Montana (but failing to deliver the standard 8 boob shots or blandly filming Hef as he wanders around with his viagra drip calling everyone "Puffin Cakes" ), then a real time show where strapping young lads are given a $100 drink card and access to Australia's most up for it chicks should rate through the rooty roof!
Throw in a couple of piss weak street fights, a short scrag match over a taxi, cap it off with a clumsy crack at it at the Bus Stop and it has to be a hands down (yer pants) winner.
Who wouldn't want to watch some bloke on his third girdle getting a txt from the producers to say that his rival has just bagged his fourth muffin, then watching in thrilled anticipation the young fella talks his way past the bouncers, gets one more closing time Bacardi, masterfully grabbing the nearest ho-bo and her gravity challenged friend, in order to get in one last match winning double hump in before 3am closing and then submitting the saucy footage over a bacon style breakfast at the National Nine Network ? (although to be fair I think Seven is really gunna be the one to step up and see the dollars here).
Sure they'll be some nay-sayers. There always is.
But all we need to do is remind them that free wheeling sex and drugs kept everyone sane during the Goldrush and that Sovereign Hill really needs a 1850's brothel, with sheep skin franga's or syphilis lollypops for the kids if we are going to truly celebrate our heritage and move forwards with our heads held high (or hair held back).
All for now,
Mick "Minty dude fresher available soon!" Dog
I'd just like to thank Bigguth Dicketh for their comments on Ballarat as the rootiest place on Earth (see comments on "This is where we Live").
As to changing the motto I think there are some fine suggestions.
Other mottos I'd considered were "Ballarat! Will root for piss!" or "Crack a Fat in Ballarat!" or "Buy me a drink and you can sink the pink".
Of course the next thing to do is to create a reality television program, filmed in several local locations, called "The Night Rider" where contestants are pitted against each other to pick up as many drunken hump bunnies as they can in a single night.
Points given for creative bonking locations, evading security cameras and not giving out their real names.
Points deducted for spewing (either party), poor coital performance and pregnancy.
In my opinion, if something as lame as "The Girls of the Playboy mansion" can cobble together half an hour of some blonde ninnies buying a Gonk doll in their hometown of Arsecrack, Montana (but failing to deliver the standard 8 boob shots or blandly filming Hef as he wanders around with his viagra drip calling everyone "Puffin Cakes" ), then a real time show where strapping young lads are given a $100 drink card and access to Australia's most up for it chicks should rate through the rooty roof!
Throw in a couple of piss weak street fights, a short scrag match over a taxi, cap it off with a clumsy crack at it at the Bus Stop and it has to be a hands down (yer pants) winner.
Who wouldn't want to watch some bloke on his third girdle getting a txt from the producers to say that his rival has just bagged his fourth muffin, then watching in thrilled anticipation the young fella talks his way past the bouncers, gets one more closing time Bacardi, masterfully grabbing the nearest ho-bo and her gravity challenged friend, in order to get in one last match winning double hump in before 3am closing and then submitting the saucy footage over a bacon style breakfast at the National Nine Network ? (although to be fair I think Seven is really gunna be the one to step up and see the dollars here).
Sure they'll be some nay-sayers. There always is.
But all we need to do is remind them that free wheeling sex and drugs kept everyone sane during the Goldrush and that Sovereign Hill really needs a 1850's brothel, with sheep skin franga's or syphilis lollypops for the kids if we are going to truly celebrate our heritage and move forwards with our heads held high (or hair held back).
All for now,
Mick "Minty dude fresher available soon!" Dog
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
This is where we live!
Hello Fans,
Just popping in to let everybody know the good news.
According to some chick I met in a Pub who reads Ralph magazine while she's at the dentist, (or some such) I can now confirm that it's become official.
Ballarat is now the easiest place in Australia (I'm saying all of Western Culture) to pick up.
Not the Town itself, (the buildings and surrounding land weighing many millions of tones and being a large logistical feat to move), but rather if you're suffering from the dreaded midnight horn and need some relief, then you're living in the Town where it's now quicker and simpler to find a drunken hussy than it is to pop a Panadol.
Now, I don't know about you, but having been born in this buggered burg and having flung my oats as every passing paddock, but this news bought a tear to my eye and I'm all choked up with civic pride.
I was sure Geelong would have held the title, what with the Grand Final final and everything, but there you go.
We, the Good citizens of Ballarat, are town of mythically easy roots.
What surprises me is the lack of coverage of what must be the town's greatest achievement since all those crazies staring digging up the joint and screaming for the right to get pissed at lunchtime (or whatever is was. I was behind the shelter shed having a squiz at a young ladies credentials when they were teaching all that guff. No regrets).
I'm also surprised that when Ballarat had a shot at being a Tropical Paradise (thanks to Global Warming's gentle tourist tantalising touch ) the beloved Courier trumpeted the possibility loudly and proudly.
And that was just pure conjecture! (as far as i know the aforementioned tropical haven may occur sometime in the next five hundred years, but whether or not the possibility that all of humanity will have all been eaten by some sort of huge irradiated space wombat and that might somehow curb the tourist revenue is yet to receive the same serious editorial consideration).
But now that our young lads and ladies have actually gone out and shown unsurpassed hospitality to visiting locals, regardless of the weather conditions, you would think our beloved Courier would confidently promote Ballarat as the Amsterdam of the South, a wondrous place where you can buy a slab and get your doobries fondled by the time you've knocked back the first sixer.
But no.....I'm putting it down to a quiet silence that bespeaks volumes of our accomodating character.
Now, to be fair, I'm not sure how this accolade was arrived at.
Although the writing staff at Ralph magazine are peerless journalists, like any media outlet, some scrutiny is required.
But let me say this......
If I'm caught in a tricky conversation as to whether or not it is possible to have a drunken three-some with coked out swimwear models and still come up for the perfect excuse as to why I can't show up on Monday to pitch my new advertisement for New Aussie Tampons (Get 'em up ya!), then Ralph is my first port of literary call and they are yet to lead me astray.
Tremendous fellows all.
So I'm quite sure the research crew where meticulous in their fact finding mission to find the Australia's Easiest Town.
Perhaps a well built young man walked into drinking establishments in various cities and yelled through a megaphone "The first young lady with legs akimbo wins a quickie and a coupla lines" and then a cohort (probably a sub editor of some sort) would hit a stop watch to time how long it took for some Gal to back up beeping.
I'd guess that in most other towns the Young Gentleman had to finish his amplified speech, perhaps even buy a drink or two, but rumour has it that when they were about to run the tests in Ballarat, a young lass (who'd worked her way through the Breezer rainbow and had been freshening up at the Hamburger Cart) approached the Ralph Rep and offered him the old Hong Kong Hammock as he was getting out of the car (apparently his ability to reverse park was the sexiest thing any male had ever said to her. )
There was no time for stop watches. Or flowery speeches. Just good old Goldtown spirit.
So. A quick be-fannying later and the record was ours.
Viva Ballarat! A place where where you can get your bits wet in minus ten seconds as long as you don't mind the car smelling mildly of dimmies.
Once again I'm swelling with pride (easy....).
I've long regarded this place as a kind of weird, free wheeling libertarian utopia, where love flows through the streets and we can all be as one. Where the Squares will just have to dig it coz we got a Great Big Convoy chugging back the fine liquors and thrusting their reproductive organs at anything that can stand upright or at least fall over in a co-operative manner.
And now that a reputable bunch of loveable larrikins like Ralph have officially given us the nod all I can say is Ladies, I owe you a beer.
That's all for now,
Mick "The pre-mix King for Mayor!" Dog
Just popping in to let everybody know the good news.
According to some chick I met in a Pub who reads Ralph magazine while she's at the dentist, (or some such) I can now confirm that it's become official.
Ballarat is now the easiest place in Australia (I'm saying all of Western Culture) to pick up.
Not the Town itself, (the buildings and surrounding land weighing many millions of tones and being a large logistical feat to move), but rather if you're suffering from the dreaded midnight horn and need some relief, then you're living in the Town where it's now quicker and simpler to find a drunken hussy than it is to pop a Panadol.
Now, I don't know about you, but having been born in this buggered burg and having flung my oats as every passing paddock, but this news bought a tear to my eye and I'm all choked up with civic pride.
I was sure Geelong would have held the title, what with the Grand Final final and everything, but there you go.
We, the Good citizens of Ballarat, are town of mythically easy roots.
What surprises me is the lack of coverage of what must be the town's greatest achievement since all those crazies staring digging up the joint and screaming for the right to get pissed at lunchtime (or whatever is was. I was behind the shelter shed having a squiz at a young ladies credentials when they were teaching all that guff. No regrets).
I'm also surprised that when Ballarat had a shot at being a Tropical Paradise (thanks to Global Warming's gentle tourist tantalising touch ) the beloved Courier trumpeted the possibility loudly and proudly.
And that was just pure conjecture! (as far as i know the aforementioned tropical haven may occur sometime in the next five hundred years, but whether or not the possibility that all of humanity will have all been eaten by some sort of huge irradiated space wombat and that might somehow curb the tourist revenue is yet to receive the same serious editorial consideration).
But now that our young lads and ladies have actually gone out and shown unsurpassed hospitality to visiting locals, regardless of the weather conditions, you would think our beloved Courier would confidently promote Ballarat as the Amsterdam of the South, a wondrous place where you can buy a slab and get your doobries fondled by the time you've knocked back the first sixer.
But no.....I'm putting it down to a quiet silence that bespeaks volumes of our accomodating character.
Now, to be fair, I'm not sure how this accolade was arrived at.
Although the writing staff at Ralph magazine are peerless journalists, like any media outlet, some scrutiny is required.
But let me say this......
If I'm caught in a tricky conversation as to whether or not it is possible to have a drunken three-some with coked out swimwear models and still come up for the perfect excuse as to why I can't show up on Monday to pitch my new advertisement for New Aussie Tampons (Get 'em up ya!), then Ralph is my first port of literary call and they are yet to lead me astray.
Tremendous fellows all.
So I'm quite sure the research crew where meticulous in their fact finding mission to find the Australia's Easiest Town.
Perhaps a well built young man walked into drinking establishments in various cities and yelled through a megaphone "The first young lady with legs akimbo wins a quickie and a coupla lines" and then a cohort (probably a sub editor of some sort) would hit a stop watch to time how long it took for some Gal to back up beeping.
I'd guess that in most other towns the Young Gentleman had to finish his amplified speech, perhaps even buy a drink or two, but rumour has it that when they were about to run the tests in Ballarat, a young lass (who'd worked her way through the Breezer rainbow and had been freshening up at the Hamburger Cart) approached the Ralph Rep and offered him the old Hong Kong Hammock as he was getting out of the car (apparently his ability to reverse park was the sexiest thing any male had ever said to her. )
There was no time for stop watches. Or flowery speeches. Just good old Goldtown spirit.
So. A quick be-fannying later and the record was ours.
Viva Ballarat! A place where where you can get your bits wet in minus ten seconds as long as you don't mind the car smelling mildly of dimmies.
Once again I'm swelling with pride (easy....).
I've long regarded this place as a kind of weird, free wheeling libertarian utopia, where love flows through the streets and we can all be as one. Where the Squares will just have to dig it coz we got a Great Big Convoy chugging back the fine liquors and thrusting their reproductive organs at anything that can stand upright or at least fall over in a co-operative manner.
And now that a reputable bunch of loveable larrikins like Ralph have officially given us the nod all I can say is Ladies, I owe you a beer.
That's all for now,
Mick "The pre-mix King for Mayor!" Dog
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Finally, some Olympic humour
At last - while Todd McKenny provides us with a whole new level of celebrity drug misadventure and ensuing wrangling via media, over at the BBC they've broken the best story so far of the Olympic torch/Free Tibet competition:Police in southern China have discovered a factory manufacturing Free Tibet flags, media reports say. The factory in Guangdong had been completing overseas orders for the flag of the Tibetan government-in-exile.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner...
Otherwise, tonight's music will clean up the remaining taste of oatmeal from the 2020 conference, as well as some uptempo toe-tappers I've been ripping from hither and yon in the interwebs. 
Haven't seen the Courier today - the source of the most of the amusing material we tend to churn through on air. Although some songs for Todd do come to mind:
Haven't seen the Courier today - the source of the most of the amusing material we tend to churn through on air. Although some songs for Todd do come to mind:Drug Me - Dead Kennedies/Sepultura
Cocaine Decisions - Frank Zappa
Drug Sex - Machine Gun Fellatio
I Want the Drugs - The Supersuckers
Sling It, Bang It, Give it Cabfare Home - Andrez Williams
And Lenny says he's managed to get the taser and smokebombs for tonight's Chaser gig at the dearly named Her Vaj on Lydiard Street.... If he can manage walk natural through the high security Dirty Frank Callahan-style door arrangement, 'sgonna be a hoot.
And I think our man The Hack who has replied to the quest for an flamin' Australian fashion and music statement at the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics may just get its own bracket of tunes...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)