Friday, January 27, 2012

2011 - A Whole Bunch Of Turkeys

Reflected Turkey: Jackie O

Homebrand Turkey TV Dinner :  Hamish & Andy's Gap Year - the lowest point in Australian television history.

Gang of Turkeys :  The Project ie All of Rove's friends who spray us with wet shit.

Turkey Starstruck :  Maylea Tinecheff (hands off our Ben).

No. 48 Turkey with No. 27 Frozen Chicken  :  Ricky Nixon and Tegan Gould

Turducken : Miranda, Orlando and Flynn.


Turkey with Added Hormones, Chemically Enhanced, Artificially Flavoured : Shane and Liz

Turkey Split : Heidi Klum and Seal - he just wanted to go out for a nice meal.

Humblest Turkey : News of the World Hack Rupert Murdoch.

Mini Turkey : Jack Vidgen.

Turkey Trial : DSK vs the Maid.

Turkey Surprise : Arnold Schwarzenegger's kid.

Non Kosher Turkey : John Galliano and his anti-Semitic Slurs.






Sunday, December 04, 2011

John 'Jack' Elliott

As you guys know we are really good friends with Jack Elliott.  He loves us.  He's 70 now and had a few turns to celebrate.  We didn't go to the big do at Gary Morgan's, we know what Gary's parties are like.  Apparently Ted Baillieu showed his bourgeois face, what a drag.  The Savage Club was more our kinda thing, it is spacious, restful and presents a civilised place of meeting, conversation and relaxation against a background of superb furnishings and appointments.  The 'bohemian spirit' of the place was juxtaposed with the jazzed up working class food, roast, puddings, white bread and butter.  Because Jack never drinks crook wine we had good shit.

Just before pudding Jack came and smoked between us, making his usual ribald comments about Joanne being away a lot and how we should come to his penthouse with no undies.  We have known Jack long enough to recognise the pattern, he is about to lead in with a matter of deep importance to him.  Sure enough, before too long Jack wants to know what happened to his album that we recorded with him.  We explained again - because we'd told him before - that our house burnt down, the files were destroyed.

Jack asked us if if had one of those Smart Phones, or whatever they are called.  As we did have one of those phones on our person we end up in the toilet for 'Disabled Savages and Laurie Oakes'.  Jack reckons the acoustics are magnificent in there.  He wants to give Joanne one of those cards that sing when you open them.  He's got the perfect song for her.  She works for Qantas.  And with all that travel she can have him with her all of the time.  He turned out the lights and told us to hit record. We did.






Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Epic Luv Story of Bob Hawke & Blanche d'Alpuget




Bob & Blanche wait for their podiatrist





Bob & Blanche during
the national anthem at the 2000 Olympics



Bob & Blanche buying African tribal art



Bob & Blanche watching a telemovie





Bob & Blanche checking in their luggage

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Natalie, Sir Elton and The Altyian Child

As we predicted, proximity to Altyian was a piece of cake. Last weekend we were helping our copper mates with a Blue Light Disco. As we were cutting up the oranges, Altyian arrived with Nikki. This was our opportunity to become firm friends with the winner of The X Factor. Nikki, in her somnambulistic way, posed no barrier to a quick friendship with her intended. We went straight up to Altyian and asked him whether people had ever told him he looks just like the late Michael Hutchence. Fifteen minutes later we are helping a weeping Altyian into the car and taking him to the beach where he sits in a lotus position on the sand. He stares silently and intensely out to sea - like Bono thinking about the third world - for a good minute and a half. He turned to us, and with the last vestiges of the day's sun glistening in his glassy eyes said 'You guys...are the best....best friends...I've ever...ever...had.' Nikki remained in the vehicle.

We spent the next few days ferrying Altyian and Nikki from one facebook hook-up to another and engaging in what is perhaps technically considered in the eyes of the law, stalking of his former Altourage. During a boring stake-out of disgraced manager, Steve Gold's new townhouse, we felt Altyian was ready to be briefed on Sir Elton's proposition. Leaving out the bit about the cave, which is really a stupid idea, we tell Altyian Sir Elton wants to meet him. Nikki rested in the passenger seat (we'd let her ride up front).

As you guys know, we have our moments with Sir Elton and we're a little bit mischeivious re his husband, but he is our friend, so we were really disappointed by Altyian's dispassionate response. He said he had trusted the wrong people from The Win onwards. A lot of people were trying to impress him and quite frankly, he said, he was taken for ride. This had caused him to 'shut down'. We go 'Altyian, Sir Elton has seen it all before. He's had his fair share of freeloaders. It might be really good for you to talk to him.' Altyian, who is looking more and more like Rasputin on a dark night, starts pointing his finger at us and says 'The stage is calling out for me, and I really need it. It is my second home and it does things to me that I could never express in words.' We go 'Altyian, Sir Elton is a performer too. He's had a lot of experience.' At this point, Nikki wakes up; she wants to go home.

The next morning, we weren't surprised when Natalie Biddles rolled up uninvited to breakfast with Altyian. She is exactly as she appears on Channel 7's Today Tonight, a smitten single mother using her daughter, Elle, as a proxy server. As she parked her bottom on the seat next to us we smelt trouble. Omitting introductions, she just started asking private questions about Sir Elton. We indulged her a little bit - yes, he loves flowers. Yes, he is neat - but when she asked us schoolyard questions about the gender dynamics between the couple, her time was up. We dropped a couple of Xanax in her scrambled eggs and waited for her to bid her farewells and go home to bed.

We were now alone with Altyian (Nikki was there but was busy drawing Altyian's tattoos on the tablecloth with the crayons the waiter provided). This time it was Altyian who raised Sir Elton's offer, inquiring as to whether Sir Elton will be providing him with a contract, songs written by him and Bernie, video clip deals, merchandise, a publicist and options on feature films. We were aghast. Altyian is a lazy reality TV star with a shocking sense of entitlement. Thank God for the digital mandala Claire sent us when she heard we'd befriended Caveboy. We held our phones in Altyian's direction and left the building. Nikki focussed on keeping the colour within the lines.


Thank you to the Herald Sun and Today Tonight.

Sunday, May 01, 2011

Caveboy

We didn't really get an invite to Friday's wedding because William and Harry hold us responsible for coining the term 'The Booze Brothers', not that we care anyway. Looked more like a funeral to us.

Sir Elton's husband, David Furnish, took our flippant request to send us a couple of pictures a little too seriously. Self-shot images of David with his arms around Ian Thorpe, David with his arms around the King of Tonga, David in peels of laughter with Tara Palmer-Tomkinson, close-ups of the china and David with his arms around Ian Thorpe again...and again clogged up our phones and made us miss seeing one of our AFL friends score two goals. We were getting a bit over David's, 'I'm middle aged but I'm up with technology' catharsis when things changed dramatically. An image came through of David nursing a weeping Sir Elton John. A concerned Ronan Keating can be seen hovering behind them. This was followed by a text from David going:

OMG! He's just finished rescuing Leon Russell.
Now he's heard about that Altiyan Childs.
Better clean out one of the spare rooms ;)


Leon Russell, dressed by Sir Elton John

The next thing the phone rings and it's David saying 'Sharon wants to speak to you,' and a sobbing Sir Elton gets on the line. 'That poor boy! The poor gypsy boy!' he cries into the receiver. 'He lives in a cave! Those animals. They let him fly. They let him fall! Have you got his number? David could call him for me....get him over here for some proper re-hab.' We tried to interject as we are don't think Altiyan's on drugs - if only it were that simple - he seems to have a host of psychological problems. We weren't sure that spending time in Sir Elton's compound would be in Altiyan's best interests, but Sir Elton was already on to renovating one of the spare rooms into a cave and was shouting out the numbers of slate companies to David and telling him to write them down. 'It's all about the cave,' said Sir Elton, 'He needs to get in touch with it again.' We finally just started talking over the top of him, informing him that Altiyan's was no romantic cave, but a miserable shelter on a suburban beach littered with empty V cans and McDonalds packaging. Sir Elton didn't seem to get it. He just paused then said 'I can get those things.'



Sir Elton wanted to leave the wedding (and the filthy power ballads playing there). He now had one purpose: Save Altiyan Childs. Frankly, we don't think it's worth it so to prevent them from jumping on their jet we said we knew Altiyan really well (which was a lie, but we felt confident that if pressed we could establish an intimate relationship with Altiyan in a very short space of time) and we'd have a chat to him. Using flattery, we convinced Sir Elton that Altiyan would need to be prepped before meeting The Most Famous Homosexual in the World.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Monday, February 15, 2010

Friday, October 30, 2009

Sunday, July 19, 2009

The HIStory of punk & blanket: A Gift Circle

In case you haven't heard, Michael Jackson has died. Cause of death is unknown but he basically expired. We have always loved Mike. It's time to tell how much.

Back in 2003, unsated after throwing Lady Di down the stairs, a villain named Martin Bashir, set upon Michael and a lot of people believed the filth he cast. We were killing time in a fashion forum, reading skin care product reviews and hunting for bargains in the swap shop when the witch hunt for Michael and then Debbie Rowe kicked in. We leapt to their defence and were surprised at how many young ladies were so prudish and old fashioned. The ferocity of their disdain seemed maladaptive. Our battle raged after Deb talked about her Gift to Michael in his response doco. They just didn't get it, didn't get Deb.

It was around this time that blanket's name changed from NatalieJohns to blanket, not realising what this simple act had set in motion. Shortly after, we built a virtual altar to Debbie Rowe in an effort to give back something to this woman who had given so much. A few people heard the call, others maintained their narrow views and eventually we were expelled, blocked, banned. We had run out of aliases and left as punk and blanket to go it alone.

We have always believed in Debbie and now that she's back in focus we'd like to remind everyone: she's just another surrogate. A surrogate with a Gift. She gave Michael the gift of Paris and Prince 1 and she gave us the gift of our identity. Today, we give her our support once again.

It's a circle of gifts.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Poem For David Carradine

walk on rice paper
leave no trace

climb in closet
to a higher place

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Making Sure No-one Gets Hurt

A lot has happened since our last entry. We ended up taking the spooky poppets with us, wrapping them in aluminium foil so that they wouldn’t reflect any bad energy in the direction of the targets. We stared at them night after night, though we didn’t dare unwrap them, so really we were just staring at our own reflections. The answer was written all over our faces; we needed the relief only an intervention could bring.

Last Thursday, when we knew Claire would be out all day doing readings in the regions, we let ourselves into her house to prepare a comfortable and non-judgemental environment. We started burning some calming oils, strategically scattered some boxes of tissues, pre-chilled her Baileys and set up her foot spa. We didn’t bother getting a support person in for Claire because she’s got her guides.

Claire got home around six and asked us why the TV wasn’t on. We just came right out and told her she was party to an intervention, by us. She sat down, we put the poppets on the table and asked her if there was anything else she’d like us to see. Claire sat there silently for quite some time looking from one poppet to the other, it was hard to guess what she might be thinking. Then she got up and we followed her out the back to the bins. She stuck her hand in the bin (not the one for paper) and untaped a miniature version of Charmaine, Australia’s Most Gifted Psychic. She handed it to us and led us to the bathroom where John Butler’s little plastic legs were jutting out of the toilet covered in dirty rusting pins. She was about to hand it to us but we told her not to worry about that one. We walked back to the loungeroom and Claire seemed hesitant for a moment before she reached into her handbag and pulled out what appeared to be a ball of pins. She whispered, “It’s Nicholas Sarkosy”. We asked her if she thought there were any more. Claire shook her head.

After some extensive workshopping we were all in agreeance that the main problem is Grayam, and in a broader sense, all male models and the male modelling industry. Grayam is the only factor we can control in this dreadful scene so we have arranged through some Masonic contacts for Grayam to be fastracked into the Buttery to get off modelling. We hear he’s been attending songwriting workshops with Rick Grossman and that guy who used to be in Goanna.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Suspect Dolls in the Deep Freeze

Yesterday was 47 degrees. The hottest day ever and Melbourne was like hell. What went down could have been a result of the extreme conditions so at this stage we're prepared to have an open mind, but the evidence is pretty compelling that Claire's disdain of male models is becoming unhealthy.

Anyway, we are cooling off, dangling our feet in Claire's backyard deep freeze and we thought we might dig up some of Claire's homemade Baileys Gelato. Underneath the Patties Party Packs we uncovered three frozen poppets in the likeness of The Saddest Male Models In The World, some of them with pins stuck in them. We do not condone males becoming models but Claire's suburban voodoo practice is out of control and puts her at risk of karmic retribution.

As yet we haven't said anything to Claire because this could just be the tip of the iceberg, she may have poppets of us mocked up and ready to go. We're gonna be quiet on this one for a bit.







Thursday, January 22, 2009

Claire, Grayam and the Dark Prince of the Rockocracy

Claire came over the other day in a flap about Grayam. His house burnt down last week when he was watching Make Me A Supermodel. The TV went up in flames just as Jennifer Hawkins opened her mouth. He asked his Granny if he could stay at her place and Claire said he could on the strict proviso he give up modelling. Desperately he swore he would never do it again. Things are already wearing thin. Claire says Grayam lies on the couch all day long with the blinds drawn and reeks of vomit and sunscreen. He's obsessed with making ice and she has found sunflower seeds stuffed under his pillow along with a well worn copy of Karl Lagerfeld's Diet Book. At meal times Clarie watches Grayam eat his food and wonders if she'll see it again later. And the worst thing happened this morning when she was tidying his scrapbooking mess and found this photo, clearly taken by Grayam, of new friend Jethro Lazenby playing dress ups with his Dad's old clothes.

Winner - Turkey Of The Year 2008

Last year's winning turkey comes from a very very tight field but never has the vote been so definite, our winner is the treacherous turkey, Baz Luhrmann. The gobbler tells New Zealand's Richard Wilkins that his movie is not about our land but about a state of mind. We are Australians but 'australia' plays no role in our cognitive awareness. And it seems many other Australians agree as we have been inundated with votes for Baz.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Turkey Of The Year 2008

And the nominees are........

Carved Turkey - Sam Newman - for his operating theatre performance featuring Turkey Spotter Eddie Maguire in a shower cap.

Turkey Spotter - Eddie Maguire - so proud of his (un)dressed turkey's 60 minutes.

Crack Turkey - Wayne Carey

Turkey Disney - Terri 'themepark' Irwin

Bad Turkey - Brendan Nelson on Sorry Day

Flaming Turkeys - Text Publishing, David Marr & Bill Henson

Treacherous Turkey - Baz Luhrmann

Turkey In The Headlights - Jodhi Meares

Dressed Turkey - Sarah Palin

Crumbed Turkey - Gordon Ramsay

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

What About David?

Well there's a little boy waiting in the shadows of the Kabbalah
He's been waiting down there, waiting like a prayer
He never ever goes to the milk bar
He gets flown around, bought by the pound
He's not allowed to eat meat and he thinks

What about me, it isn't fair
I can't stand my nannies' stare
Can't you see I wanna live
But you just take more than you give

Well there's a strange lady dancing wildly in the stadium
He's been waiting back there, waiting for his beans
Nannies walk in and out, they're not his mum
Well we're not too proud to cry out loud
We watch the tv and we ask

What about Dave? It isn't fair
We can't stand the Granny's stare
Can't you see he wants to live
But she just takes more than she gives

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Stolen

We are the victims of identity theft. Recently it has come to light that two people are posing as punk & blanket in order to judge a local poetry competition. Apparently, this had been going on for two years. They have even hacked into our site and planted the competition under our 'Gigs' section. They have done something to it that stops us from deleting it. These rumours sent us into a spin so we decided to stalk the imposters. We researched them on myspace and facebook and even went to the poetry competition's grand final to see them in real life. We were unimpressed; they're not our kind of people. Our sartorial integrity was at stake. We didn't know what to do. How could we stop this ongoing theft when no-one knows who we are? In order to stop them we would be forced to reveal our true identities. Then what kind of superheroes would we be?

As always in times of trouble, we sought an audience with Claire. She's been a bit withdrawn lately. Ever since her arch nemesis Charmaine won The One: The Search for Australia's Most Gifted Psychic, Claire has been pale, withdrawn and insecure about her Gift. Luckily, practical advice was all we were after. Claire's had some experience dealing with identity theft when an impersonator was draining Dodi al Fayad's credit card. We explained our predicament and initially Claire looked aprehensive and took a deep look into the fridge door. Then she said "Well, what is identity?" She entered into a full examination of what identity means. A lot of it we didn't understand as it was pretty technical stuff. We drifted off and settled into our listening faces. Our ears pricked up when Bill Henson's name was mentioned in connection with Grayam. According to Claire, Grayam got really messed up with identity issues after posing topless for Bill in the eighties. When the picture's became really expensive, Grayam told everyone that Bill had stolen his identity. Claire said that even to this day, the Henson affair has damaged Grayam as he is supremely narcissistic and unable to differentiate image from reality.

This was all very well for Grayam, but we're under threat here. Our's is a different polemic. It is not imagined identity theft, it's real. Saying all this to Claire, she peered over her magnifiers and wide-eyed sans blinking, and goes "Yeah but, who are punk and blanket anyway?"