Oh dear, fuss and kapooha over the cricket. Or in particular, the on-field verbal exchanges between the cricketers. Many commentators are saying sledging is a part of the game, and all you sooky-lala-pants should either deal with it or skulk back off to Dear Old Blighty. I think the stoush with Clark, and whoever that Pommy bloke is, is probably a textbook example of a storm in a teacup. What I would like cricketers to remember is that they are playing cricket, not doing a job like a doctor or nurse or ambulance officer. Cricket, in my humble opinion, is a game almost guaranteed to bring on catatonia. It. Is. So. Fucking. Boring. As for the sledging, part of me wonders is it bad sportsmanship. However, I don't really mind it so long as the sledger actually says something witty, and not racist or homophobic etc. I've never been a huge one to sledge myself. Indeed, the extent of my sledging career has probably been limited to an inter-school basketball match where I asked the captain of the visiting team was that her head or had someone crapped on her shoulders. I then ran for cover. One of my favourite sledges involved an interchange between Glenn McGrath and Zimbabwean Eddo Brandes. McGrath had been trying to get at him, and asked Brandes why he was so fat. Memo to McGrath and all other prospective sledgers: jibes about a person's weight are not clever, and will not escalate you the heights of Wildean wit. However, Brandes replied, 'Because every time I fuck your wife, she gives me a biscuit.' Yowzah and Ka-ZIINNNNGGG!! Love it. And it would appear McGrath was stunned, and the rest of the Aussie team were falling about laughing (as would I, with no loyalty to my captain whatsoever!).
Pointless Remake Of The Day: 'I Think I Love You' by Voice of the Beehive. As you can guess, this is a remake of the old Partridge Family number. And it is pointless to the brink of tedium and misery. The original is a nicely constructed pop song, and delivered with a wistful yearning as the narrator tells of being a bit scared of his feelings. There is an almost bittersweet feeling of whimsy in that song. The remake, it must be said, sucks donkey's balls. It is just .... shit. There is none of the emotion in the original; it's all funk and bop and Look-At-My-Techno-Coloured-Hair. They lose points for not having a deadest spunk like David Cassidy, as well. Just a collection of plunking notes and chirping voices. Voice of the Beehive? Nay, it is voices of the Aviary of Coked-Up Budgerigars.
Proud Parent Moment Of The Day: Last night when my 9yo took to the stage to perform 'Balloons' on the piano. He knows he is not yet the most accomplished musician of the children performing. What he does know is how to make an entrance and exit. He mounted the stage, waved to the audience as though he were headlining act, played 'Balloons' note-perfect, and during the applause, executed two campy, Liberace-inspired bows that had the audience chuckling away. 'Is that your little boy?' asked the old dude to my left (my husband sat at my right, laughing with amusement and pride at our little 'star'). When I nodded, he said, 'He's a character!'
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