Monday, August 20, 2007


Ah, very funny, SBS. I noticed in the telly guide they were screening a show called Stripperella tonight. (Synopsis: "A man is bitten by a uranium-contaminated beaver and starts chomping everything in sight that is made of wood. Back at the club, Giselle is performing lap dance on an elderly fellow, and when it is over, she discovers that he has had a fatal heart attack".)
Elsewhere, the 7:30 Report totally let me down tonight. There was Kerry O'Brien playing along with the faux-scandal and trying to nail Kevin Rudd on whether he had in fact seen a lapdancer lapdancing or not. Man, who cares? Sorry, this one's in the public disinterest, guys.
Meanwhile, this contentious Jack Marx piece (reproduced at Club Troppo) is just waaaay too much information. I don't want to think of Rudd's "erection creaking to life in his trousers". I don't want to imagine his "anxious loins". I really don't want to imagine him "humping" anything:

"Back at his hotel room, the shadow foreign affairs minister would have laid in the dark, thinking. He would have smelled her, felt her lingering touch still upon him, like that of some phantasmic seductress. Perhaps, if he were lying face down, he’d have begun a gentle humping, his pillow underneath as kapok mistress. Or perhaps, with closed eyes to the heavens, deliverance would have been at hand."

Naughty, sure, but hardly a sackable piece of writing, I wouldn't have thought. This isn't Spain after all. Here, cartoonists can get away with drawing important figures in bed, like Leunig did in Saturday's Herald. Mind you, the woman Leunig drew in bed with John doesn't resemble Janette at all; maybe Glenn Milne should investigate further.
Anyway, surely the most interesting part is the identity of exactly who was gyrating in front of Kev that night? Aha!