Dozzy

Melbourne, Victoria, AUSTRALIA


Joined July 21st 2008

Number of Posts:
25

Number of Comments:
2

Karma:
9



About Me
No details about me yet :(

Tags & Posts

Bookmark Tags



Popular Tags

Popular Posts

Blogs

Dozzy's Blogs

2220 Vote(s)
29 Comment(s)
31 Post(s)

I mentor these bloggers

Learn more about the Orble Mentoring Program.


I do not mentor any bloggers.

Friends

I have no friends :(

Recent Posts

Who's In Your Car? - Part I

October 16th 2009 02:35
There’s a great hypothetical game that I’ve often played with mates when in-depth discussions about Natalie Imbruglia’s face have grown stale or it’s the lunch break in the cricket and for some unknown reason Channel Nine has a bunch of catamarans on the telly.
Here’s the scenario.
There’s a car. A four-wheel drive perhaps. It’s travelling at high speed in treacherous conditions. The car will soon veer off the road and drop from a steep cliff into the ocean. The driver and all four passengers don’t stand a chance.
The question is, out of all the oxygen thieves in the public eye, who do you nominate to fill those five seats?
Believe me, this is not an easy task, like choosing which member of Human Nature irritates you the most (the man-child? The guy with bad facial hair who looks like a Star Bar bouncer? The one called Toby?).
Which one is Toby again?

There is sure to be plenty of debate. Some of your mates will request a transit van, others a Bell Street Bus. But for the sake of across-the-board consistency its best to stick with a five-seater 4WD. The ‘Jeep Cherokee Sandilands’ maybe. In honour of the only member of the human race that is guaranteed to ride shotgun in every car that will ever perish off the edge of that cliff.
It’s best not to think of this as some kind of fatwa, just a selection of people you really want out of your life. And if this lot are technically already out of your life then you may want to erase them from your memory like Kate Winslet did to Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Before I selected my occupants, I had to impose a few regulations on myself in the name of fairness. Firstly, I’m going for a cross-section of humanity in this carload. This means I can’t just fill the 4WD drive with judges from reality TV shows, who, believe me, were the only ones getting a look in on the first draft. On closer inspection I decided to completely rule them out all together - they just dominated voting so completely. So to my beloved Kyle, Todd McKenny, Andy (I have music credibility because I wear pink Motorhead T-shirts) G, Marcia Hines, Mark Holden and that pompous Masterchef bloke with the neckerchief, you can all breathe easy.
Secondly, I fought the urge to include those I have potted on this blog before, so that means no KB, Tony Grieg, David Caruso, Craig Bellamy, JD Fortune, Ricky Nixon or Andrew Demetriou (this was the toughest sanction of all but I wanted to test myself and push the boundaries - this is my ‘Kid A’).

Finally, in a bid to not sound completely homicidal I will follow this up at some stage with a list of five living legends to partake in the ‘shoot the breeze with while watching Fashion TV with the sound down and drinking a cold Melbourne Bitter’ hypothetical.

The Runners Up
Kobe Bryant - He was once charged with rape so when the cameras are on he clutches onto his wife and kids like a drunk would a goon bag. He won three titles with Shaq, but only really counts last season’s one because it was ‘his team’. Calls himself ‘The Black Mumba’
Jason from that RACV ad – Has there been a more irritating character in an ad ever? Talk about antagonising the consumer, the next time I break down and call RACV assistance I’m gonna punch the mechanic purely on principle.
My fists are getting all itchy...

Dennis Leary – This bloke made a living from completely ripping off the act of the late, great Bill Hicks… ‘I have a scoop for you. I stole his (Leary's) act. I camouflaged it with punchlines, and to really throw people off, I did it before he did.’- Hicks
Any Collingwood player – Except Marvel.
The advertising guru behind the H&R Block ad – This is the one where the guy is covered in tax receipts and features a whistling soundtrack so infuriating it could cause an aneurysm in a corpse. During the Waco siege the FBI played Nancy Sinatra’s ‘These boots are made for walking’ along with the sound of rabbits getting slaughtered at ear-piercing level in an attempt to freak the Branch Davidians out and get them to leave the compound. One play of this jingle and it would have been mass-surrender on a large scale not seen since Port Adelaide in the 2007 Grand Final.

And here it is…The (doomed) Jeep Cherokee Sandilands

Back Left
Arjuna Ranatunga

There are sporting villains and then there was Arjuna Ranatunga, much like there are brutal dictators and then there was Pol Pot. As a complete bastard the former Sri Lankan captain was in a league of his own. He was comically fat, yet he wore those kilos with a strut that suggested he had a harem of ripe young virgins peeling grapes for him on a regular basis. He seemed so lazy and spoilt that when I try and picture the fat man in his downtime I immediately get reminded of Eddie Murphy in Coming to America (‘Your royal penis is clean Your Highness’). Woops, I just threw up in my mouth.
He detested running between the wickets so much that he often just got someone else to do it for him. In a game against Australia in humid conditions in the mid-nineties he called for a runner because…wait for it…he had ‘sprained something’. This lead to Ian Healy’s immortal line that was picked up by the stump mic…‘You can’t get a runner just because you’re a fat, lazy cunt’. Indeed.
It’s really a credit to the poisonous nature of the man that he can get a spot in my backseat considering the amount of jerks involved in international cricket. ‘English Kev’ Pieterson would be a monty in most people’s 4WD, especially considering the fact that he has the three lions tattooed on his arm when he’s about as English as a winning mentality. Then there’s that ‘obnoxious weed’ Harbijhan Sing and Salim ‘The Rat’ Malik…Alan Mulally, Graeme Swan, Stuart Magill anyone? Shit, what a sport! A real prick-magnet! I bet you Jason from the RACV ad bowls first-change.

Back Middle
Fred Durst

He may have faded from the spotlight a tad, but the human race would be remiss to underestimate Durst as they did the Black Plague in the 1300’s. He was the lynchpin of nu-metal in the 90’s – undoubtedly one of the worst music trends of all time. You think you’ve got it tough with the whole emo thing that’s going on at the moment, cast your mind back to the days of Limp Bizkit and I guarantee you’ll be curled up in a corner with your thumb in your mouth within minutes. Instead of tattooed teenagers pining for someone to understand them, nu-metal had front-men like Durst, who was pretty much Biff from 'Back to the Future ' with a mic in his hand. Here was a textbook school bully ripping off the Beastie Boys (badly) over the top of metal riffs they were ripping off from Korn (badly) and selling millions of albums. Disastrous.
McFly...McFly!

But the music was one thing, it’s the character of the bloke that really seals the deal and gets him in the middle seat ahead of other notable musical douches such as Chad Kroeger, Good Charlotte and Sting. For example, how many humans can actually lay claim to instigating a riot at Woodstock!
On the 30th Anniversary of the historic festival that was based on peace, free love and acid, Durst manages to contribute to a massive riot that resulted in untold damage and at least four rapes by ignoring pleas from the promoters to calm the crowd down and screaming ‘I don't think you should mellow out. This is 1999, motherfuckers - stick those Birkenstocks up your ass!’ Wow, what a guy!
When guitarist Wes Boreland left the band, Durst decided to hold a competition for fans to join the band, but when the thousands of guitar-heads turned up they had to sign a contract that said any original riffs they played were the property of Limp Bizkit. Then he rejected all the finalists anyway.
But if I was pressed for a standout Durst career lowlight it would have to be when his band covered The Who’s ‘Behind blue eyes’ (badly) and then misspelt Pete Townshend’s name in the album credits! Way to show your appreciation there Fred.

In closing, just to really ruin your day, here’s a statement from Fred Durst released in February of this year.

“We decided we were more disgusted and bored with the state of heavy popular music than we were with each other. Regardless of where our separate paths have taken us, we recognize there is a powerful and unique energy with this particular group of people we have not found anywhere else. This is why Limp Bizkit is back.”

When you read that, did you get really creeped out like when that little girl combs her hair in the mirror in ‘The Ring’. I know I did.

Rest of the car to follow when I regain my composure.

Just a quick question, did anyone see Oman’s coach this week? Fair character! He’s a cross between Andy Warhol, Martina Navratilova and Bernie Ecclestone. Frightening.
Zoom out, zoom out!
24
Vote
   


Is Mark LeCras Invisible?

September 24th 2009 04:53
First off, I applaud Collingwood supporters for not changing teams regardless of what society thinks. There is no excuse for swapping allegiances, so those that stick with the Pies in the face of overwhelming abuse are to be commended. Honestly, if any minority faced such levels of hatred as Collingwood supporters/players there would be a Royal Commission.
But still, we’re all in on it aren’t we? It’s just a great comfort in these harsh modern times to know that we can all bond together over a common enemy. Pie supporters should try it for one day - forget about the black and white army for just a minute, cross over to our side and feel what its like to all despise the same arsehole. It’s uplifting.
But how does this monumental mass-hatred come about? Its gotta be more than ferals and Eddie McGuire. Look at Hawthorn, they have their share of supporters on day-release and have Jeff Kennnett at the helm (undoubtedly a bigger prick than Eddie).
My theory is that any child that isn’t immediately christened a Collingwood supporter must get the Clockwork Orange treatment. Their eyelids clamped open while a large projector screen plays disjointed clips of past Collingwood players abusing their most cherished possessions.
Judging by the fact that none of us can actually remember this traumatic event, I would suggest it gets done by a Pie-hating medical practitioner somewhere between first words and potty training. And being forced to watch Ron McEwen molesting your household pet obviously leaves long-term mental scars because I was definitely punching the air with glee everytime Paul Chapman kicked a goal last Saturday night.
Please Ron, don't...

I can’t imagine a more despised villain than Collingwood in a Saturday night feature since the T-1000 in Terminator 2. Robert Patrick was pure evil in that movie and I bet you there weren’t many in the cinema cheering on that psychotic robot while he slaughtered Ed Furlong’s foster parents. And much like Collingwood at certain times this year, that slippery bastard was a handful. Thankfully in the end he, like the Pies, fell into a massive vat of burning lava just before Grand Final week. I do enjoy those Hollywood endings.
Its brown trousers time!

Collingwood’s poor standing in society is not helped when the All Australian selection committee put their heads together. The only difference between them and the Australian cricket selectors is that they probably weren’t shotgunning Fosters cans while they picked names out of a hat like Merve was obviously doing on the latest Ashes tour. Or maybe they were on something a little stronger. Like glue. Or spray paint in a plastic bag. Because that is the only way you could explain the selections of Leon Davis and Nick Maxwell in the final 22. Or Simon Black’s omission from the squad of 40. No St Kilda defender selected…
All Australian selector Kevin Bartlett and I have had our differences, no doubt about it…but we’ve reached a compromise, he doesn’t know who I am and I think he’s senile. This is the man that lobbied hard for Kevin Sheedy to take over at his beloved Tigers for heaven’s sake. How out of touch is that? Yeah Kev, and that Roy Orbison fella is going to take the charts by storm, I can just feel it. There are long-term residents of Nimbin that have a better perception of the game than Bartlett. But he’s got his beak in everything. Whats going on? Has he got pictures of somebody? I think it’s the Dave Hughes syndrome in full effect.
Just take a minute to consider how much Hughes we’re getting at the moment:

Nova morning radio 5 X 3hrs – 15hrs
7pm Project 5 X 30min – 2.5hrs
Before the Game – 1hr
Rove – 1hr

That’s 19.5 hours of Dave Hughes per week!

Add to that his occasional appearances on Spicks and Specks and we’re up to 20.5hrs.
If you dedicated a week to watching and listening Dave Hughes it could be classified as part-time employment by Centrelink. I had less contact hours in my final year at University.
Now, I’m not saying he’s talentless, but I don’t care who you are, that is excessive. You could be a cross between Jerry Seinfeld, Bill Hicks, Rodney Dangerfield and that funny bearded bloke from The Hangover and I would still need some time off to do the washing.
No.1 with a bullet!

It’s a similar thing with Bartlett – overkill. He’s changing the rules, he’s picking the elite players, he has a daily radio show. Although this is not to say he’s the only one at fault, that entire selection panel need to face the music on the non-selection of Mark LeCras. He kicked 58 goals in a team that was obviously tanking for most of the year. A phenomenal effort. Or what about Jason Porplyzia? The guy is an absolute gun, I don’t think I’ve seen him miss a set-shot since The Secret Life of Us was on prime time. This selection panel need to be held accountable for the most contentious All Australian team in memory, but they won’t. Witnessing Gerard Healy wave away Dane Swan’s phenomenal midfield stats as evidence of why he should - wait for it – be selected in the midfield, was like watching Gary Garry Beers promote the latest INXS tour without Michael Hutchence. Two blokes with their heads deep in the sandpit.
Hutchence was overrated...

My solution would be to somehow tie selection in with the club's best and fairest awards. There's nowhere to hide in your own club's B&F. Season's are usually judged without bias. It might be a pain in the arse but it also might mean that we wouldn't have Craig Bolton named at CHB in the All Australian team while finishing 12th for his club.

On a brighter note, the two best teams are season facing off in the Grand Final. While the Saints are clearly due, it would be deserving for the Cats to get up again. They’ve been an awesome team to watch for the last three years. They flick the ball around so well in close that you have to watch your own team repeatedly fuck the same thing up to really appreciate how good these blokes are. And the wet only makes them better.
Cats by 22.
45
Vote
   


Dreams Are No Match For Reality

September 9th 2009 02:23
You know sometimes when you stumble across a thought so bizarre and ludicrous that you have to stop and think to yourself ‘did that actually happen or did I just dream that a couple of nights ago after I ate too much Crackerbarrel?’
Well, there seems to be a bit of that going around in sporting circles lately so to set the record straight here is the Freddy Krueger Dreams are no match for reality segment.

Did Ian Bell actually participate in his second Ashes victory or did I just dream that?
No this happened. Against all odds the Sherminator managed to fight his way back into a seemingly iron-clad English top-order, stay there for two Tests and claim victory against an Australian team that has his measure so completely that in the Occupation section of his Taxation forms he writes ‘Laughing stock’. And he did all this without actually contributing anything of substance to anyone. A truly remarkable triumph of Ian Bell in the face of overwhelming common sense. That’s right I’ve replaced the words ‘blind fucking luck’ with ‘Ian Bell’ in my vocabulary. Feel free to do the same.

Did England put Ravi Bopara in at first drop in an Ashes series or did I just dream that?
No. Happened. For four Tests no less. I love it when commentators describe a sportsman as having ‘plenty of confidence’. This basically means he is a flashy prick. This is because all sportsmen who reach the pinnacle of their sport have an innate confidence in their own ability otherwise they wouldn’t get to the top, the commentator is just trying to describe Bopara as a flashy prick without using the words ‘flashy’ and ‘prick’. To top it off the English scribes even said Bopara had a real ‘swagger’ about him. Oh dear, we’re now in KP territory. I’m not really sure where all this overblown self-importance comes from in the first place. No cricketer should have ever have a swagger anyway. Why? Because he’s a cricketer. Not Steve McQueen. They don’t even play in the rain!
(Of course the exception to this rule is any West Indian cricketer who ever played. Especially Chris Gayle, who I would argue should not be classified as a cricketer but an entertainer. His level of coolness has sky-rocketed since he started wearing those fluro sunnies. He’s now pretty much a cross between Wolf from Pulp Fiction, Jeff Spicoli and Shaft.)

Did Eddie McGuire compare himself and Collingwood to JFK and the moon landing or did I just dream that?
Even as I’m typing that I have to double check. But…yep, this happened. In the history of over-stating your own place in the world this ranks in the top few along with any Gold Logie speech ever made (what, you beat Ada Nicademu and Maggie Doyle’s boss?) and David Caruso when he left NYPD Blue to be a movie star.

A little note on Caruso, word is, in his last scene for the show he delivered his final lines and then walked immediately off the set in a dramatic fashion. Slamming the door behind him and striding straight off the studio lot as if drawn to the bright lights of Hollywood by the sheer force of his own destiny. He didn’t even wait for a director’s ‘cut’. Meanwhile, the cast and crew (who he’s worked closely with for like, 6 years) were left standing there with their mouths agape and scratching their heads. They’d planned a few genuine goodbyes and a cake to farewell him. Fair bloke!
No one treats Sipowictz like that!
He then went on to star in 'Jade'.
Alas, unfortunately he’s had his career resurrected by CSI: Miami where he searches for sperm all day. Karma eh? It’s a motherfucker.
He aint no Grissom...

If you didn’t happen to catch Eddie’s press conference, he described the delicate negotiations surrounding the Buckley-Malthouse succession plan in such rarefied tones that you’d think they took place on the Gaza Strip. At the end of the day, North Melbourne could probably offer Buckley $50 credit to the Kanga Kasino and a Mazda keyring - tough decision there, Bucks. Then it came out that Sydney had been planning a Roos-Longmire succession plan for years, so it really wasn’t like JFK and the moon landing at all but more like President Clinton soiling the dress of an intern (which happened, at minimum, twice a week)

Did Hawthorn coach Alistair Clarkson call out someone else for dirty tactics or did I just dream that?
Being a North Melbourne supporter as a child of the eighties was tough, we won probably four games (all against Richmond), but the one thing we could hang our hat on was that we once punched the Christ out of Carlton in an exhibition match in London. In a dismal decade the ‘Battle of Britain’ was a highlight. Clarkson was the instigator, a cowardly whack from behind on a Carlton player that was only tolerated by me because it was performed on a Carlton player. But now, for that same angry little man to cry foul about a low act, its crazy talk. Clarko’s got a stack of the Joe Pesci’s about him I reckon. The weird thing is every time I think of ‘Casino’ and see Clarko stabbing Matthew Lloyd in the neck with a pen I also get a flash of Sharon Stone giving him a blow job. And that shit just aint right.
Clarko, you should have stayed away from Sharon, she was vulnurable

Hang on a minute, so England did actually win the Ashes?
Baffling. The selectors have said that we just have to get use to the fact that we’re just not that good any more. Well, Merve when you’ve sobered up for half a second you might come to realise that the English team that won the Ashes in 2009 were ab….solutely shocking. Regardless of key retirements, we should not be losing to a team that actually dropped someone to get Ian Bell in. And Graeme Swan? That head is an absolute fist-magnet of the highest order. Watching his mug in high definition during a long spell in Cardiff was like someone forcing me to watch ‘Beaches’ on repeat with Marcia Hines, Angela Bishop and a dozen bottles of Chardonnay. I just wanted to hurt someone.
Fist-magnet.
32
Vote
   


40
Vote
   


In the public relations move of the millennium, the AFL proposed recently that Australia’s greatest entertainment export (AC/DC) and their unique band of loyal supporters (The World) move their little concert thingy from Etihad Stadium to an alternative venue (Flemington Racecourse) to accommodate the most prestigious sporting tournament in the world (The NAB Cup).
There’s obviously a number of things wrong with that scenario. Sure, during Springtime Flemington Racecourse is the venue of choice for quality group one racing, heavy drinking suits and promiscuous hairdressers, but for anything other than the nags, the place struggles. The last major event outside the gee-gees was the visit of the Pontiff back in the eighties. A monumental case of blasphemy the more you look at it. Tens of thousands of pilgrims and catholic schoolkids worshipping on the very patch of grass where the term ‘dry-rooting’ was coined.
The Pope visited there you know...

[ Click here to read more ]
41
Vote
   


Full Forwards

Adrian McAdam
[ Click here to read more ]
40
Vote
   


The Tiger Heart Is A Fragile Thing

April 9th 2009 01:20
Well the Tiges had a crack last Saturday against Geelong didn’t they? Dare say you could mark that one down as an ‘honourable loss’. And that is probably the absolute worst thing you could say to a Richmond supporter this week apart from mouthing the words ‘Wallace’ and ‘contract extension’ - ‘coffee enema’ would probably be more warmly received.
Nuff said.

Supporting Richmond is a heavy emotional burden. The afflicted carry it around like an Irishman does Catholic guilt. Forever aware that the days following an ‘honourable loss’ are just small chinks of light breaking through the all-encompassing greyness of a footy season. For a glorious mid-week stretch the food tastes a little better and the air seems a little cleaner and Herald Sun hacks are showering your team with plaudits like ‘gutsy’ and ‘brave’. It usually takes to about the eight minute mark of the second quarter on the following Friday night before the whole charade is shattered and you realise that Greg Tivendale/Darren Gaspar/Kane Pettifer/Jordan McMahon/Richard Tambling are complete frauds and are proceeding to get spanked to such an extent that even the weird guy from I.T with the sweaty top lip and a face like an old man’s knee starts to snigger when you break down in tears next to the water cooler on Monday morning


[ Click here to read more ]
55
Vote
   


Half Forward Flank
Phillip Matera
Phillip Matera followed in the grand tradition of the likes of Steven Hocking, Phillip Neville, Donald Cockatoo-Collins, Mimi McPhearson, Dean Waugh, Dannii Minogue, and Mariah Carey’s sister who was a hooker (yet, no doubt a heaps better human and possibly had more artistic merit). On the shit sibling scale Phillip probably sits somewhere between Lachy Daddo and Don Swayze, which isn’t the worst place in the world - there are hoardes of us ‘Animal House’ fans still waiting on a laugh from that fraud, Jim Belushi. And that doesn’t include the weird laugh-like cough of disgust that emanated from my shattered being when I accidentally watched ‘K-911’ (the sequel to K-9) while I was waiting for Sports Tonight to come on


[ Click here to read more ]
42
Vote
   


Dud-baiting: the process by which someone with limited or no sporting ability questions the appearance, physicality and existence of those with slightly better levels of sporting ability and have utilised them at a professional level.

It’s been a while between drinks but the summer of tennis has been a little time consuming, what with the five-hour epics, J.A banging on about the deuce court and female tennis players from the Eastern Bloc. The other day I looked up from my dinner to glance at Ana Ivanovic’s first round match and when I went back to my food I realised that my dinner was as cold as Andrew Demetriou’s touch - I’d been staring at the T.V screen for 35 minutes. Not long after I realised it wasn’t a T.V at all but just a poster of Ana Ivanovic. That’s when I realised I had to get out of the house


[ Click here to read more ]
33
Vote
   


Is a Team Of Nobodies Really a Team?

December 17th 2008 05:30
The criteria for this elite team is simple, it is made up of misfits, forgotten duds and players with funny names or a bizarre physical appearance. Keep in mind there has been absolutely no consideration made for players with talent, unless of course the player had none at all.
These are the players that linger in the dark, forgotten corners of your mind along with Mello Yello and the fat kid from Hey Dad. Embrace them.

[ Click here to read more ]
80
Vote
   


 

Recent Comments

Comment by Dozzy
on Barry Hall and Cerebral Hemorrhage

September 25th 2009 02:01
You could add to that Scotty Turner's deranged 1000 yard stare. He couldn't knock the froth off a capuccino.

Comment by Dozzy
on Barry Hall and Cerebral Hemorrhage

September 24th 2009 14:45
Very funny Norm.
One of your best.