Chicks without wings – or, girls that cant talk.

I’m currently considering reporting to the WHO a potential pandemic due to the increasing numbers of females in the community who seem to have lost the power of speech. Perhaps voice box removal if the latest version of female mutilation, or maybe heaps of them are taking an early vow of silence in preparation for entry into the religious sisterhood. Not that Turkey is known for its large number of convents.
OK, let me explain. Having gained employment in the hospitality sector of Ankara, I seemed to have spent my nights involved in the following dialogue. Or monologue, as it may be:

Me: Welcome!

Girl X: (Silence)

Me: What can I get you to drink?

Girl X: (Silence, followed by muffled conversation with boy seated to her right. Or left. Don’t worry too much about the details.)

---------- Enter new character--------

Boy Y: A Sprite please.

[Lights]

But wait! I hear you say. Boy Y wasn’t spoken to! I hear you say. The question was directed to her! I hear you say.

Precisely. You guys aren’t dumb. Through some malfunction of the human body, thousands, perhaps millions of girls in this city have lost the power of speech. “What do you want” isn’t a hard question. It’s not like I asked them for an opinion on the farming and cultivation practices of the ancient Sumerians. It’s not even like I asked them for directions to the nearest toilet. What. Do. You. Want. It doesn’t require translation and interpretation by a male. It just requires an answer, given to me, the asker of the question. Thats how conversation works, see. Question followed by answer, developed by the human race over thousands of years. There’s even a neat acronym type thing for it: Q&A. Simple, hey!? Its like they all turned into Helen Keller overnight for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, the point is sisters, don’t forget that up against men our voice is our most powerful tool. If you’ve got it, use it, cause there are alot of women out there who can’t use it or forgot somewhere along the way. Next time, tell ME you want a Sprite, cause I didn’t ask your goddamn boyfriend.

Happy New Years everybody!

Hi! I pretend to report news, but really I just print bullshit. My name is the Herald.

HELP! There are men in my backyard wielding swords!


So I was gonna write this week on the decision of a Turkish court to dissolve the DTP, a Kurdish political party, and one which has the support of a significant percent of the population. About 5% nationally and almost 50% in areas like Diyarbakir with big Kurd populations. Anyway, having thought about it, I think its fairly self evident that the decision was one made by a big bunch of retards and is a big pile of stinking crap that will bring more violence to a country that has had more than its fair share of bloodshed. So: Constitutional Court: a big fuck you and may you never sleep soundly in your big beds. Harsh, but fair.

THEREFORE: to keep it light at Christmas time, I decided to return to my usual target of the Sydney Morning Herald. That old chestnut. Ole!

I refer you to an article published December 25: ‘Celebrity Stunts and Stuff Ups’.
Opening line:

Celebrities got themselves into trouble by saying and doing stupid things in 2009.

1. If you look in the Oxford Dictionary, the definition of a celebrity reads like this:

Celebrity (n): a person who does and says stupid things.

So the opening line was kind of like writing ‘Dogs found themselves in trouble this year by using four legs to walk and saying ‘woof woof’ alot.’

2. Referring to Home and Away’s wholesome image, reportedly lost after whatshername called the cops after too much rack. Wholesome: Gingerbread. White picket fences. The Brady Bunch. Visiting Nana every Sunday. Home and Away: Stupid. Mindless. Dribble.

The Home and Away mistakes continued: the show is accused of having a culture of drugs and partying. The show is filmed in Sydney. Its actors are “young and hot”. The show is filmed in Sydney. A culture of drugs and partying is news how?

3. Mentioning the name Kyle Sandilands. The guy could stand at the doors of Dachau, doing the Nazi salute and letting off firecrackers while chanting Seig Heil! Seig Heil! And I still wouldn’t give a shit. No more publicity for this moron please. Ignore him and he will go away.

4. Reporting that Hugh Jackman’s twitter thing got the name of the Opera House wrong. Sorry, I was momentarily distracted by a chair.

5. Referring to Merrick and Rosso as a ‘comedy team’. Try ‘two guys who hang out and say nothing of any value, comedic or not, every day. And broadcast it to the world.’

And so on. One day, in a perfect world, we will be rid of this celebrity rubbish. We wait in angst.

Date With Kate

Having recently had the pleasure of visiting Sydney, also known as the place bars go to die, I was overjoyed to note that my complete lack of faith in the journalistic endeavours of Sydney papers is more than justified. Yes, I refer to the newest addition to the Sun Herald’s ‘S’ section known, very wittily I might add, as ‘Date with Kate’. Cause people go on a date. With someone called Kate.

Get it?

I know it more than stinks of shooting fish in a barrel, but I will attempt to provide you, dear readers, with a weekly summary of the interview of Z list celebrities by anoth...... a person called Kate. The first victim: Kevin Federline. For those of you distracted over the past few years by the chemical formula for salt or instructions on how to make instant coffee, KFed spread his seed in such a way that the world now has not one but TWO of Britney Spears’ progeny. Thanks Kev. Here goes.

Kate: Sooo..... liiike.... how’d you get so fat?

KFed: I embarked on a three month program of consuming nothing but deep fried oreos, bacon cheeseburgers and baileys milkshakes. Combined with 18 hours of television a day and a glass of lard before bed, its amazing how the body responds. I have a new song coming out. You should totally check it out.

Kate: Once, when I was five, I visited the zoo.

KFed: (Silence)

Kate: So...... do you look after your kids?

KFed: We have a specially constructed cage. I throw half a chicken in there once a week. Britney comes and feeds them Starbucks intravenously from time to time. Did I mention my new hot track?

Kate: Sometimes, at night, I like to stare in the mirror and empty my mind of all thoughts. It doesn’t take long.

KFed: Buy my music. Look at me. Listen to me.

And so on and so on.

Kate, you have a chance to ask these people hard hitting questions about their descent into the pool of stinking shit that is known as celebrityhood. Next time, something more along the lines of:

So Kevin, does having a giant dick sticking out of your head make life any harder?

Is Britney as dumb in person as she appears to the rest us?

You and our esteemed PM have the same first name. Any relation?

Would you say you were a democrat or do you swing more along the lines of benevolent dictatorship?

More to follow kids.