Zizou's Post-Goal Celebration

This brog is turning into a bit of a World Cup site, but I suspect I'm not the only one to suffer this pleasant fate. Soon it will all be over. And no one will remember a jot, or possibly iota.

I think Zinedine Zidane has set a record for most subdued festivities on scoring a goal around the 91st minute to confirm France's victory over Spain. Spain was furiously pressing forward, when a wayward pass was snatched by the French. In a jiffy Zidane was released into open space on the left flank. The spanish defender had time to raise his arm in offside-protestation *and* go back and defend, but Zidane skipped around him in the box and wrongfooted the keeper gloriously.

After scoring, he ran not in a straight line, but in a sort of zigzag fashion. He may have been trying to throw off his teammates [incidentally, i always wonder if a teammate gets offended when they are ignored or brushed off by a scorer more interested in running very far and fast than stopping and accepting congratulation]. He wondered over to the press area and eventually was swamped by his teammates. His remains will constitute a peat bog or peat marsh some day. Admittedly there was no tv camera pointed at his face during this time, so he might have been ecstatically grinning. but i don't think so. a decidedly cool and even handed response.

Where was Otto Pfister when Australia needed him?

man, what a slack attack to the max. To lose in the last 5 seconds, on a dud penalty like that. we basically lacked in attack. we still have some ways to go there. could josh kennedy have gone on? perhaps aloisi earlier. still, there are some crackerjack games coming up. germany argentina, england (who have actually been boring but have to light up sooner or later, no?) portugal, ghana brazil (i'm afraid brasil will crush them), france spain (last throes for french). i'll be rooting for ukraine in a few days.

in other news, i had a significant personal achievement when my sms was read out on abc local radio 702 by simone thirtell. due to reasons of national security, i was forced to go by one of my pseudonyms, Doogie from Wyee. it was music to my ears hearing that read out. ah, the small pleasures of life.

How the years do go by

I don't like this business where the days and weeks fly by too quickly. At the moment it's like when you're on the train and you look down at the tracks outside the window and they're moving real fast. What i want it to be like is when you look off into the distance and you can easily see the shape of the landscape and it doesn't disappear too fast.

Y'see, people need to be busy occasionally. I'm not sure why - sense of productivity, actual productivity. But if you're busy too often, you can't enjoy yourself. You can't even see the time passing before your eyes. You wake up one morning in a cold sweat and realise it's 2063 and you haven't stopped to smell the roses in god knows how long. But then it's too late. That's why my new job has one busy week followed by one quiet week the whole year through.

Tonight I eat bacon and lentil soup in Leichhardt in preparation for Australia v Italy somewhere on Norton St. My prediction: everything will be booked out and we'll be forced to listen in the freezing cold on ham radio. But what an atmosphere!

I'm at a loss - Australia drew and won

Ah, the puns. I sprang out of bed and rocketed into the loungeroom for the all-important pre-game hype. when i saw that kalac had been selected, a deep tremor passed through my bowels. little did i know how he would impose his spidery persona all over this game, for the wrong reasons. sadly for my wife, i failed to change the settings on the alarm clock, so i woke her at 5 and 5:10 for good measure.

What a weird ending to the game. Players sent off, benchwarmers running on the field. i feel i have been deprived of closure. i wanted a crowd-chanted, tv-displayed countdown to ensure maximum satisfaction. still, it was pretty sweet. If i didn't have to take pictures of purkinje neurons and bergman glia in the cerebellum, i'd be home in a jiffy to watch it all unfold, refold and unfold again.

Australian enttaeuscht - immer wieder

Immer dieselbe Geschichte. Chancen verdient, Chancen verpasst. Es macht mich krank! Wenn Australia nicht ueber Kroatien siegt, werde ich mir die haende waschen. So ist das Leben.

The Holy Trinity

Geoff Ogilvy has just won the US Open golf tournament at Winged Foot (sounds painful). Although he lacks a 'b', his name can now at last be added to the pantheon of great Australian golfing "ees": Appleby, Allenby, Ogilvy. Tas, if you're out there, this one's for you. In the meantime, if I were a talent scout, golf groupie or corporate megasponsor, I would be scouring the ranks of local golfers with similar sounding names.

In other news, I am considering calling my firstborn Dugong. Or Doogie Dickens.

Life is Butter Dream

If there's one site you gots to go to for all your butter producing needs, it ain't butter productions. Go to this site if you care about Australia's hottest video art talent.

Not sure about the yellow though...and those pesky popups...

but i LOVE the site.

post goal celebrations

Mime artist feeling wall and then sticking head through

Crumping oneself

Bursting ball with hands in a show of pectoral strength

Players gather around corner post and prostrate themselves in front of it

Player pulls bubble mix and loop from pocket and starts blowing bubbles

it turns out that that movie was called dirty tricks, starring Norm someoneorother. I checked out out the quotes, and pretty much the only funny ones were the ones I remembered. Adam Sandler is mildly amusing as the devil and Chevy Chase has a funny cameo as a doctor (It should be docter. I doct.) with gambling problems.

"I can't believe you bet on Mr T in Rocky III!"

"Ah, hindsight is 20/20, my friend"

Post-Match Mania

Tim cahill shadowboxed the corner flag. i hope someone tries a pole dance with it. my prediction for aus vs brasil (they spell it with an 's', so should we. ah, yeah): zejlko kalac will replace mark schwarzer, who will be shifted to the midfield, although still be allowed to wear his goal keeper's garb. After watching the socceroos score thrice in the last 10 min to crush the dreams of the blue warriors, i wasted valuable time watching the czechs beat usa. still, if you want to make the most of the world cup, it's not about the quality of the games, but the amount you watch, especially the amount of sleep you miss.

Fortunately i saw a most amusing movie on channel sieben which relieved my sleepy soul during moments of united states ineptitude. It featured cameos from adam sandler and chris farley, but i don't know what it's called. i know i could find out at imdb, so why bother just now? anyway, this admittedly lame movie had several bits worth recounting.

an old man lies in hospital after a heart attack and shocks the protagonist by telling him he's his father. to still son's disbelief he retrieves a locket (trinket/amulet/capsulet) from under his hospital gown and opens it up to show the hero. "that's my you and my mother!... having sex!" it turns out that's the only way old man felt he could convince him. he then goes on to lament that in his day they didn't have high-falutin methods of contraception - like pulling out. Lateron, his other son (who knows he's his son) asks why he cheated on his mum, to which old man replies "she was there! who do you think took the picture?"

Welcome me

So i've gotten my act together to start a blog. I have high, high hopes for what this page will contain. After conferring with my esteemed associate cwdeluxe, I would like to have something on science, something on humour, something else too. Time will tell if I follow through as weakly as Djibril Cisse, or achieve these goals.