Category Archives: Byrd

Bugsy, Rocky & Mugsy

Our Italian Correspondents BYRD, CONTESSA MANSKI and UNCLE EV have re-visited one of my old favorites this round in their weekly analysis of our Football fraternity. Yes folks enjoy their episode of BUGSY, ROCKY & MUGSY (I don’t know how they’s done it but I know they’s done it!)

bugsy

Gillon – Bugsy (McMoron) McLachlan had no choice but to relocate from his luxurious mansion in Toorak due to heavy winter rains that has caused irreparable and structural damage to his home, a massive hole on the roof, his Maserati crushed beyond recognition from a fallen elm tree that has been uprooted from the torrential rain.
Moving to drier quarters for some peace and quiet, Gillon now lives in his investment property, a condemned house.
Located in Rose Street Brunswick, Gillon quickly had fled from his residence to avoid his enraged family including the scrutiny of the media who were already camped outside his usual residence waiting for him.
Meanwhile due to their sudden and unexpected exodus in both their recent posts within the AFL Headquarters and on the field, Rocky – Andrew (Gaddafi) Demetriou and his blockhead accomplice Mugsy – Jonathan (Lost in Translation) Brown needed to make a quick buck.
Inside the highly guarded Paspaley Pearl Boutique in Collins Street Melbourne, Demetriou convinced the Security Officer on duty that he would hire him as his own personal entourage if he would let him in for a privilege walk through without the need of an escort after closing time.
Rocky and Mugsy have just committed daylight robbery stealing all of the money as well as the precious and very rare pearls inside Paspaley’s Pearls store.
Assuming that Gillon’s house in Rose Street to be entirely abandoned, Demetriou and lame brain Brown seizes their opportunity to use the derelict house as their hide out.
Demetriou closes the door, pulls down the open blinds, as an extensive manhunt is now organized in search for the two thieves.
As Gillon is making himself a cuppa, all of a sudden he hears police sirens, and then clambering footsteps as Johnno and Andrew burst inside the house. Gillon realizes what’s going on and vows to take care of the two thugs while they rest for the night.

Hawthorn

Rocky – Demetriou with his lit cigarette dangling from his lower lip demanded to Mugsy – Jonathan:
“Toin it on the radio”. The radio was on SEN station discussing the match between the Hawks and the Crows. Unexpectedly a newsflash blares through about the burglary and nearly gets mentioned where the police last saw them.
“Toin it off the radio.” Snarled Demetriou.
“Uh ok Rocky”. Replied an excited Jonathan as he skipped back to Demetriou.
Jonathan asks: “That was some haul, wasn’t it, boss?”
“Yeah. Get some shut-eye if we’re gonna pull that big job tomorrow.” Demetriou.
Geelong

This alerts Gillon – Bugsy to the fact he’s dealing with these seasoned robbers who have already lightened up the wallets of all the AFL administrators, coaches’, players, members and beyond, and will continue to do so if they are not brought under control real soon. Gillon makes a very serious decision that crime cannot, does not, should not and will not pay.
Gillon grabs his old-fashioned telephone and slips it next to Rocky – Demetriou’s ear. Rocky is sitting in the only chair and Mugsy – Jonathan is lying down on the couch with his goofy grin on his face. Gillon whispers: “You’re crazy to trust your pal Mugsy with the pearls and money, he’s giving it to Chris (Beam Up Scotty) in exchange to be their assistant coach next season. Don’t make me laugh!” Rocky sits bolt upright, shrugs and goes back to sleep. Gillon won’t let him. He snickers: “Look at him just lyin’ there pretending to be asleep. And all that time he’s actually thinking. He’s getting’ ideas.” Gillon pulls away from Rocky before he can see him. Rocky gets out of the sofa, walks over to Mugsy on the sofa, rudely awakens his partner by slapping him three times in the face. “That’ll teach ya’s to get any ideers.” Rocky was offended.
“But boss, you know I don’t get any ideers.” Musgy shocked.
“Well, make sure you don’t!” Gnarled Rocky storming away leaving Mugsy confused.

North Melbourne

Bugsy – Gillon seeing that Rocky – Demetriou and Jonathan – are sound asleep, he tiptoes out carrying a giant battle-axe. Gillon places the axe in with extreme caution in Mugsy – Jonathan’s right hand. Disappearing, Gillon grabs the old phone and informs Rocky – Demetriou the following: “Brad (Not So Beam Me Up Scotty) Scott and Alan (You Can Call Me Al) Richardson “Mugsy isn’t called the AFL butcher for nothin’. Don’t be fooled by dat smooth talk. He’s probably waiting for you to fall asleep.” Once again Rocky seems to think that Mugsy is out to harm him, he sits up and notices the axe Rocky is holding. Rather than let the axe remain in Mugsy’s clumsy hands, Rocky seizes the weapon and slice one of the couch’s arms cleanly almost in half.
“Your dirty scheme didn’t work, did it? Now go back to sleep!” Seethed Rocky.
“’That Rocky is a million laughs.” Laughed Mugsy thinking that Rocky mutilated the couch for fun.

Western Bulldogs

Reading the Herald Sun about the Doggies achievable win along with Gary (Gazza the Dazzler) Ablett’s abrupt season’s end, Gillon has an idea, grabs his screwdriver from his toolbox. He climbs in to the manhole in the ceiling to unscrew the screws connecting the light over Rocky – Demetriou’s head. Mugsy – Jonathan sees the screws coming loose, knowing that Rocky will blame him if the light falls, he grab a ladder and a screw driver, climbs up the ladder, intending to screw the light back in. Before he finishes with the last screw, the light fixture falls. Looking up Rocky sees Mugsy on the ladder with a screwdriver in his hand.
“C’mere.” Fumed Rocky, kicking poor Mugsy high in the air, screaming “NOW GO TO SLEEP!”

West Coast

Bugsy – Gillion switches Rocky – Demetriou’s cigarette with a humungous birthday sparkler, he walks over to Mugsy – Jonathan who was daydreaming about his grand final days with his Lions. Gillon whispering to the effect of Mugsy voice: “Hey Mugsy, c’mere, gimme a light.” Musgy walks over to his boss verbalizes: “I’m glad that you’re not mad with me no more.” Striking the match, lighting not a cigarette but the gigantic birthday sparkler, resulting the huge sparkler burning Rocky’s crooked beaked nose.
Mugsy – Jonathan moans: Aw, now you’re mad at me again!”

Carlton

“Get in here!” Snaps Rocky – Demetriou. Shoves Mugsy – Jonathan into the next room, he hits Mugsy, soon after ties his hands and feet together. “ NOW GO TO SLEEP!!!” Rocky yells with finality.
“And you thought Mick (The Wise One) Malthouse was a brute to his boys!” Rocky muttered to himself heading towards the couch.

 

 

Port Adelaide

Bugsy – Gillon saws a perfect circle from underneath the floor where Rocky – Demetriou’s chair is positioned. Bugsy then slips the saw into Mugsy’s – Jonathan hand and slips back beneath the floor.
Rocky opens the door in to the next room and sees the saw in Mugsy’s possession proclaiming:
“I dunno how ya’s done it. BUT I KNOW YA’S DONE IT!!!”
“This is as bad as Port losing to those toothless wimps, there goes my bloody tips!” Rocky whined eventually storming out of the room slamming the door shut.

Collingmaguirevomitshitwood

Finally Bugsy – Gillon appears from underneath the floor, fasten metallic roller skates on to Mugsy – Jonathan, attaches a powerful magnet and drags it down with him. Mugsy is forced to stand up, for a spilt second Mugsy stares at Rocky – Demetriou in complete bewilderment, shrugging his shoulders. Gillon drags the magnet, forcing Mugsy to smash in to Rocky.
“ So you wanna a show down! Why you!…Blasts Demetriou shoving him back.
Gillon is laughing hysterically as he continues to drag the magnet again and again.
“ What I would give to do the same thing to Bucks and his Magpies, that’ll fix them good and proper.”
Chuckling to himself as he’s still dragging the magnet from underneath the floorboards.

Fremantle

As Bugsy – Gillon was looking at the extended and very long injury list on GWS on his IPad, to determine the clubs added woes not to mention financially, police cars suddenly pull up.
Rocky – Demetriou along with Mugsy – Jonathan is arrested. Rocky wonders out loud how the police knew where they were hiding. Mugsy repeatedly keeps protesting his innocence. Rocky doesn’t believe him.
Gillon discloses their location by ingeniously hooking up a few electric bulbs and some wire at the front of his house flashing the words “ROCKY’S HIDEAWAY”.

 

 

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Divine intervention for our AFL clowns.

What are our Italian Correspondents up to this time? Drastic measures I fear… Divine intervention has been called upon to sort out the clowns at the AFL

Byrd Front-facing baby chick Contessa Manski Princess and Uncle Ev Girl
 

father ted

 

Recently retired, fired and expired AFL luminaries – Jonathan “Lost in Translation” Brown – Kevin “I’m Not Sorry Now” Sheedy and Andrew “Gaddafi” Demetriou ventured on a spiritual journey for the weekend forced by the new AFL Chief Gillon “McMoron” McLachlan to live in a parochial house in Crappy Island.
A remote island situated in the Mornington Peninsula located southeast of Melbourne.
Upon their arrival, the eponymous Father Ted Crilly welcomes all three gentlemen; with Mrs. Doyle the housekeeper by his side who is ready to serve them all a cup of tea, alongside with his fellow priests, the simpleton Father Dougal McGuire as well as the drunken, foul mouthed, and vulgar Father Jack Hackett.
Demetriou instantly interrogated Father Ted as to why all three priests are exiled so far away from their usual parish St Patrick’s cathedral – East Melbourne.
Sheedy shot smarmy Andrew a filthy look by his defiant approach, Johnno seemed totally unfazed as to what had just taken place and kept gulping his tea.
“I cannot lie to you my friends”. Acknowledged Father Ted confessing: “Bishop Len Brennan who will be visiting us all tomorrow, he has sent me here for alleged financial impropriety, Father Dougal for his dim-witted ignorance attitude towards Catholicism (Father Dougal still believes in more in Darth Vader and The Phantom of the Opera than God) and Father Jack for his alcoholism and womanizing; particularly for an incident at a wedding recently.
“Shall we now all go inside the house and foresee what might lay ahead for this weeks’ encounter in this gallant contest?” Concluded Father Ted.

Hawthorn

Inside the disheveled musty parochial house of Glanquin, Mrs. Doyle pours yet another cup of tea, as Father Ted wasted no time in hedging his bets through sports bet on his iPad. “Now fellas I have it on good authority from the almighty…which is me of course! The Hawks might just scrape through with this one. Place your bets gentlemen.” Assured Father Ted.
Andrew, Kevin and Johnno all watched in horror at Father Jack was swearing out loud at everything and everyone as he continued drinking his second slab of Guinness.
Brisbane Lions

“Can we all at least pray for…umm…a win here? I’ve just hung up my boots; I was a premiership player, that’s as simple as it gets, remember I was there! I don’t want to dramatize but I put my body …umm…on the line time and time again.” Appealed Jonathan.
“Not that gobshite again! Will he ever shut up?” Inflamed Father Jack.
Hurls a can of Guinness at Johnno narrowly missing his head.
Outraged Demetriou kicked Johnno from underneath the table. With his dessertspoon, Sheedy flicked his meringue from his Shamrock pie towards Andrew, landing directly on Andrew’s Armani glasses.
“Let us pray.” Proceeded Father Ted.
Father Dougal struggles to remember his prayers.
Father Dougal: “Our Father who art in heaven…”
Father Ted sternly: ”Hallowed.”
Father Dougal: “Hallowed be thy…”
Father Ted yelling: “Name!”
Father Dougal: “Papa don’t preach…”
“Dougal, you know you can praise God in other ways.” Father Ted was now irritated.
“Oh Yeah, like that time you told me I could praise him just by leaving the room.” Father Dougal responded innocently.

Adelaide

“God anything! Damn you Leon (King of Leon) Cameron! I wanna see you squirm in a colossal defeat. “Oh well since I didn’t humiliate myself too much last time, I might as well celebrate with a can of Guinness. Taunted Sheedy, sculling his beer in one gulp. “Cheers to Cameron’s end.”

Collingmaguirevomitshitwood

“A spell in their army would do them a world of good!” Snorted Demetriou. The AFL officials will come in, strip down their black and white wallpaper, fumigate the place and they will be gone!”

Fremantle

Begging to be rescued from this sudden banishment, Demetriou is frantically on the phone with Tony (Geek) Peek.
“Where is Crappy Island? I can’t even find it on the maps.” Fumbled an anxious Tony.
“It wouldn’t be on any of the maps”. Demetriou was frantic. “We’re not exactly the Docklands. No the best way to find it is to head out from Frankston South and go slightly south towards Mount Martha until you see boats with the toxic waste symbol. The boats go very close to the Island when dumping the old “glow-in-the-dark, just like they do in the Ports in Fremantle. Get me outta here!!”

Port Adelaide

“Sanctimonious scumbag! Roared Demetriou. “How is it that Jimbo (The Fugitive) Hird isn’t here?
“He should repent after what he and his wretched Bombers have put me through over the last couple of years, I had to step down no thanks to that idiot!”
“You were sacked! Belittled Sheedy.
“Cup of tea dear?” Interrupted Mrs. Doyle as she continued pouring hot tea over spilling the contents on to Demetriou’s lap scolding him.
“Jesus!” Wailed Demetriou.
“There is always time for a nice cup of tea! Sure didn’t our Lord Himself on the cross pause for a cup of tea before giving himself up for the world?” Validated Mrs. Doyle.

Carlton

“I’m not going to inconvenience myself in watching this game, I know already what’s going to happen. Gillon should have assigned Alan (You Can Call Me Al) Richardson to this dump instead of me!” Fumed Sheedy. “Hey Johnno what else is on the telly?”
Brown flicking through the channels, “Salem’s Lot” began screening much to the dismay of the other two priests. Father Jack hurriedly wheeled himself in front of the TV.

Shitney

Discussing the predictable outcome with Shitney in Paterson’s stadium over more cans of Guinness, believing it was a divine scent wafting the room; Andrew, Kevin and Johnno were first to pinch their noses.
“Do you not notice the holy smell of this room?” Father Ted pronounced sniffing around the room.
“Ah, Ted I think that might be Father Jack’s underpants hamper.” Gagged Father Dougal.

Geelong

“The Doggies are closer to God than we’ll ever be. Certified Sheedy. “They get to that stage and they don’t need the operator anymore. They’ve got the direct line. I know that feeling.” Sighed Sheedy.

Demetriou was in a state of utter despair, Johnno foolishly saw this visit as a welcome retreat, and Sheedy couldn’t care less, free booze and plenty of it.
The front door of the parochial house was pounded on loudly, rattling everyone inside the house.
“Hello Len. Allow me to introduce you to our three guests.” Chirped Father Ted.
“Don’t call me Len you tosser! I’m a Bishop!” Ordered Bishop Brennan.
Father Ted bowing: “Your Grace, what brings you to these parts? Thinking of sending us back to our parishes?”
Bishop Brennan: “Fat chance! You’re here until I tell you otherwise! You think I’d let Jack back into a normal parish after the wedding he did in Daylesford Lake House, huh?
Jack grins lecherously and drools.
“No, no, no, you are here until all the money is accounted for.” Bishop Brennan moves towards Father Dougal adding: “As for that cabbage! The mere idea of letting him back into the real world is almost blasphemous! I have been brought back from my holiday in California to sort it out! And that’s where you Larry and Moe come in”. Bishop Brennan storming off in his Volkswagen.

Crushing and throwing the empty can, Father Jack Hackett could only articulate the following:
“Feck! Arse! Girls!”

 

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Winners and Losers of AFL…Giro Numero Quattordici…(Round 14)…

A change of pace from our Italian Correspondents BYRD, CONTESSA MANSKI and UNCLE EV. These wonderously witty wordsmith wierdos have turned their hand to a spot of poetry in Giro Numero Quattordici (round 14 for the rest of you..)

Do not miss the AFL HIGHLIGHTS U-TUBE package at the end (warning there may be some nudity!)

Here is their wise poem of wisdom about winning and losing to comfort us one and all and restore some faith back in to the game, most importantly tipping…Sigh!…

voss

For those who are feeling glum, despondent if not defeated by the state of this footy season thus far, here is a wise poem of wisdom about winning and losing to comfort us one and all and restore some faith back in to the game, most importantly tipping…Sigh!…

Winning is a living thing, a complex deity to all living things.
Winning inspires people to do great things, and succeed where no others have before.
Winning is joy, happiness and relief, deep down in the soul.
Winning is the cure for depression, the answer to life’s problems.
Winning lets you fly, releases you from all the stress and troubles.
All in that one brief second.

Yet there is another side to winning, one not well knows.
Winning is a malicious beast, a terrifying nightmare.
Winning brews hate, revenge, and resentment, always lurking at the front of mind.
Winning is envy, minds shattering in spite.
Winning stops dreams in their tracks.
Winning kills the drive to succeed, crushes all that one knows.
For if you win, someone loses.

Losing is malicious, twisted beast.
Losing is depression and hopelessness, never to succeed in your most wanted dream.
Losing is hate, the embers of revenge, worming through minds like the fog.
Losing will brew rage, snap minds with a flick.
Losing is chaos, destroying hopes and dreams.
All in a quick flash.

Yet there is another side to losing, one not well known.
Losing is a friend, a helping hand.
Losing inspires hard work and dedication.
Losing commits you to an idea and a dream.
Losing starts a willful drive, a will to beat one thing.
The thing that is better than you, or stronger than you, or faster than you.
For if you lose, someone wins.

So when you win, remember the ones that lose.
Do not put them down.
Simply congratulate them.
And celebrate inside.

So when you lose, remember the ones ahead of you.
Do not become jealous.
Simply congratulate them.
And strive to achieve.
Shitney

Winners: “Who you are tomorrow begins with what you do today.” Spoke John (Here’s Johnny!) Longmire to his beloved Swans, adding: “Self-belief Wise choice and Karma are the three main ingredients of winners.”

Losers: “If you’re confused about what to do, it’s a sign that your enemy is winning!” Yelled Damien (Hardly!) Hardwick to his toothless Tigers.

Port Adelaide

Winners: “You can never quit, winners never quit, and quitters never win.” Roared all the Port Players before kick off.

Losers: “Winning or losing achieves the same result – Change.” Grouched Brendan (Macca) McCartney to his Doggies’ as they reluctantly jogged on to Adelaide Oval ready for play.

Hawthorn

Winners: “There is always room for losers in the football business. They are the mother’s milk of gambling and why not? Somebody has to do it, or there won’t be any winners.” Alistair (Angry Little Man) Clarkson snorted to his Hawks.

Losers: “If you want to find the real competition, just look in the mirror. After a while you’ll see your rivals scrambling for second place.” Aggressively Nathan (Braggadocio) Buckley stated to his misfits praying for a miracle this Saturday.

Geelong

Winners: “Don’t just do your best, be the best at what you do.” Inspired the Cats’ to one another during their pre-match group huddle.

Losers: “To win you need to have first lost. That makes you so hungry to win that you’ll do everything you can to achieve it.” Boasted “Gazza the Dazzler” to his Bums while doing the breast stroke in the heated indoor swimming pool at the Metricon Intergalactic Stadium of Planet Has Beens gymnasium.

Fremantle

Winners: “You win some, you lose some, and you wreck some.” Ross (Rampaging) Lyon winked to his Dockers’ to carry out during play.

Losers: “Set your goals high and don’t stop till you get there.” Pleaded Justin Leppitsch on bended knees.

Adelaide

Winners: “Obstacles are challenges for winners and excuses for losers.” Disciplined Brenton (Sandman) Sanderson

Losers: “If you lose your temper you lose!” Soothed Bomber Thompson to his treasured Bombers in the change rooms of Etihad Stadium.

Carlton

Winners: “A person who buys excuses will soon attempt to sell them to others.” Mick tutoring the following, eventually losing his composure: “No matter how good you are, you’re going to lose one third of the games. No matter how bad you are, you’re gong to win one third of your games. It’s the other third that makes the difference! “

Losers: “Forget seizing the moment. Seize the opportunity.” Leon (King of Leon) Cameron reassured to his young recruits.

 

 

West Coast

Winners: “Winning is a science. Educate yourself to win.” Lectured Adam (Go West!) Simpson knowing full well what the outcome will be.

Losers: “While you’re sitting there thinking about it someone else is out there doing it.” Moaned Alan (You Can Call Me Al) Richardson to Nick (Dikileaks) Riewoldt and his sunken Saints’.

North Melbourne

Winners: “Winning isn’t everything, but wanting to win is.” Brad (Not So Beam Me Up Scotty) Scott urged his players’ to stay in the top eight.

Losers: “Not trying is failure’s best friend.” Threatened Paul (Lose) Roos to his defenseless Demons who were playing naught and crosses on the floor with a chalk.

Here is a trip to memory lane of notable winners and losers’.
No doubt there is something quite unique about Aussie rules, it’s more than a game.

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Ghostbusters…Giro Numero Tredici…(Round 13)…

Friday the 13th always brings out the spooky stuff in us all – not to mention our Italian Correspondents BYRD, CONTESSA MANSKI and UNCLE EV.

They have commissioned our favorite GHOSTBUSTERS to combat the spooky DGES WORLD FAMOUS FOOTY TIPPING COMP round.

ghostbusters

On Friday the 13th of June 2014 three misfit parapsychologists Kevin (I’m Not Sorry Now!) Sheedy, Michael (Was the Boss) Voss and Mark (Back from the Dead) Neeld are called to the AFL headquarters – Docklands after a series of apparent paranormal activities, where they encounter a ghost, but are frightened away when the ghost transforms in to a horrifying monster Jimbo (The Fugitive) Hird.
After losing their jobs as football Coaches’, the trio establishes a paranormal extermination and investigations service known as “Ghostbusters”. They develop high-tech equipment capable of capturing ghosts and open their own business in a disused, run down firehouse in Eastern Hill in East Melbourne.
At the Park Hyatt Hotel, they capture their first ghost and deposit it in a specially built containment unit in the firehouse basement. Paranormal activity then begins to increase all over Melbourne City. The Ghostbusters become celebrities by containing it, but are increasingly overworked and hire a fourth member, Warwick (Crapper) Capper.

Carlton

Kick off was just about to commence live on channel 7 sports at the MCG for Friday night footy.
Matthew (Riccio) Richardson was reading out both teams’ statistics to the viewers when Michael Voss grabbed Matthew Richardson’s microphone advertising the following:
“Are you troubled by strange noises in the middle of the night?”
Warwick Capper blowing kisses fixing his peroxide mane, snatching the microphone from a stunned Voss: “Do you…umm…experience…umm feelings of dread in your…ah…basement or attic?”
Kevin Sheedy shoving Warwick Capper out of his way thrusting an accusing finger angrily to the viewers: “Have you or your family ever seen a spook, spectre, ghost or worse still Jimbo Hird?”
Mark Neeld smiling nervously at the camera, preaching: “If the answer is “Yes”, then don’t wait another minute. Pick up the phone and call the professionals. Our courteous and efficient staff is on call 24 hours to serve all your supernatural elimination needs”.
“Michael Voss, Warwick Capper, Kevin Sheedy and I we’re ready to believe in you.”
“Gimmie that microphone Neeld!” Riccio was furious adding: “Why don’t you lot go and eliminate your needs elsewhere, wear a white sheet over you heads, and rattle some chains instead!” Matthew took a deep breath and began to press on.

Fremantle

The Ghostbusters have just completed a hunt inside the change rooms of the MCG, where an unsuspecting Damien (Hardly!) Hardwicke and the Tigers were cornered by the Ghostbusters.
Kevin Sheedy: “ We came, we saw, we kicked their butts!”
“Did you see it? What was it?” An excited Warwick Capper jumping up and down.
Michael Voss holding up a steaming ghost-trap victoriously: “We got them!”
“What is it? Will there be anymore of them?” Enquired nervously Mark Neeld.
“Fellas what you have here is what we refer to as focused, non-terminal repeating phantasm, or class five full roaming vapor. Real nasty ones too! Nah we shouldn’t worry about this lot, it’s just an illusion.’ Confirmed Sheedy.
Port Adelaide

“Hey Capper, this reminds me of the time when you tried to drill a hole through your head. Remember that?” Laughed Sheedy as Warwick was scratching his head doing nothing in particular.
“That would have worked if you hadn’t stopped me”. Nodded Warwick.

West Coast

Stopping Adam (Go West!) Simpson outside Paterson Stadium, Mark Neeld was on a mission. “Let’s talk seriously, now”. Mark Neeld holds up ten fingers behind Kevin Sheedy. “For this entrapment, we’re gonna have to ask you for ten big ones. Ten thousand dollars for that. But we are having a special this week on proton charging and storage of the beast “Gazza the Dazzler”. Mark Neeld now holds nine fingers adding “ and that’s only going to come to nine thousand dollars. What do you say? Are you in?”

Brisbane Lions

Admittedly Michael Voss was concerned, confessing: “You know what fellas? It just occurred to me that we really haven’t had a successful test on this equipment.”
“I blame myself.” Revealed Kevin Sheedy.
“So do I.” Asserted Mark Neeld.
“Well, no sense in worrying about it now.” Kevin Sheedy shrugging his shoulders.
“Why worry? Each one of us is carrying an unlicensed nuclear accelerator on our backs”. Smiled Mark Neeld ready for attack.

North Melbourne

“Where do you put these ghosts, once you catch them?” Brad (Not So Beam Me Up Scotty) Scott analyzed the Ghostbusters.
“In a storage facility.” Grumbled Sheedy.
“And may I see this storage facility?” Inquired Brad.
“No!” Barked Michael Voss.
Brad Scott fuming: “Why not?”
“Coz…um…you did…um…not use the magic word.” Stammered Warwick.
“What is the magic word Blondie?” Yelled Andrew (Shallow) Swallow clenching his fist.
“Um…Please?…Um…” Hiding behind Mark Neeld as he’s trying to restore calm.

Geelong

“The structure of the Saints is exactly like the kind of telemetry tracker that NASA uses to identify dead pulsars in deep space. Let’s skip this one, no ghosts would wanna hang around this lot, even the poltergeists are sick and tired of throwing things around and slamming their lockers in their change rooms.” Asserted Voss with all the other Ghostbusters in agreement.

Collingmaguirevomitshitwood

“Listen Bucks! Everything was fine with our system until the power grid was shut of by a brainless idiot!” Screamed an uncharacteristic Mark Neeld.
“The Magpies caused an explosion?” Michael Voss was seething.
“Is this true?” Kevin Sheedy was at boiling point.
“These zombies are not worth it. We still have work to do” Warwick Capper stunned his Ghostbusters with his reasoning.

Essendon

“The traveller has come! Confirmed Sheedy “Did you boys chose anything? Did you think of anything?”
“No!” Trembled Michael Voss.
All four Ghostbusters slowly turn to look at each other in horror, on the side of the roof of the Docklands Headquarters; they all see a giant cubic white head topped with a sailor hat resembling Jimbo (The Fugitive) Hird.
“Bloody Hell!” Screamed Sheedy “It’s the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man! Are you ready fellas, let’s toast him!

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Blazing Saddles…Giro Numero Dodici…Round 12…‏

My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivultes of thought, cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives…

That’s right tipsters, our Italian Correspondents Signora Byrd, Signora Uncle Ev and Contessa Manski have consulted Sherriff Bart of Blazing Saddles fame to bring us their selections this round.

Lilly Von Schtupp herself would be proud of this lot!

pic

In the remote Western Australian outback in the town of Menzies, construction of a new football stadium led by the state Premier Colin (Collie) Barnett is being built in a town located 595 kilometers north east of Perth – Kalgoorlie. The conniving newly self-appointed State Attorney General, Andrew “Gaddafi” Demetriou wants to buy the land along with the newly built stadium cheaply by driving out the townspeople of Kalgoorlie. He sends a thug, Mark (I’m An Individual) Jackson and his flunky assistant Tony (Geek) Peeks to scare them away, prompting the townsfolk and the Governor Mike (Fitzy) Fitzpatrick to demand a new Sheriff for the county.
The new Sheriff Gillon (McMoron) McLachlan and the assistance of drunken gunslinger Kevin (I’m Not Sorry Now!) Sheedy unite to overcome the townsfolk’s hostile reception.
Big Kev befriends Mick (The Wise One) Malthouse an immensely strong, slow thinking but surprisingly philosophical trustworthy Confederate sent by the Governor (Fitzy) to restore harmony and to rid of Andrew “Gaddafi” Demetriou along with his army of bandits.

Carlton

Sent by Demetriou, Jacko wasted no time in looting the town of Kalgoorlie. In the super pit open gold mine, Waco Jacko launched a tirade of abuse berating an enraged Chris (Beam Me Up Scotty) Scott and his players in the searing desert heat, screaming and spluttering like a demented lunatic the following:
“Come on boys! The way you idiots are lollygaggin’ around here with them picks and shovels; you’d think it was 120 degrees out here! Keep digging for that bloody golden nugget. Or else!” Demanded Mark (I’m An Individual) Jackson to his former Cats, as the poor fellas were all passing out in droves with the scorching heat.
“Not so fast Jacko!” Threatened Mick (The Wise One) Malthouse. “None of this belongs to you or your hooligans, hand it over! Now!”
“Am I supposed to scared?” Jacko sneered his toothless grin reaching for the shovel ready for attack.
‘Yup!” Knocking out Jacko with his heavy-duty aluminum slingshot. “Gotcha!” Laughed Mick Malthouse.

Hawthorn

“What did you expect? “Welcome Alistair?” “Make yourself at home?” “Marry my sister?”
”You’ve got to remember that you and your Hawks are just simply amateurs. We are the exemplary team of the AFL, the common clay of the game. As for your lot, you are the common clay of the South. You know…Morons.” Adam (Go West!) Simpson strolled out of the Exchange Hotel whistling.
Big Kev who was typically by the bar drinking, in an instant pinned Alistair Clarkson firmly down on to the ground preventing him from throwing another chair towards the front door of the pub.
Port Adelaide

“My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thoughts cascading into the waterfalls of a creative genius.” Ken (Kinky) Hinkley revealed to his chaps sharing a glass of wine on the balcony of the two-storey historic Recreation Hotel situated in Boulder with his lads.
“Yeah well you’re team as well as yourself are a moderate creek of smelly sewage throwing up bad coaching advice imposed by an impotent idiot.” Retorted Demetriou gatecrashing their bonding session.

Western Bulldogs

“What in the Wide World of Sports is going on here?” Yelled Brendan (Macca) McCartney witnessing his Doggies rioting and sculling Kalgoorlie’s local brew “Packhorse Pale Ale” outside the Exchange Hotel with a very drunk Jonathan (Lost in Translation) Brown tied up to the back of the Hotel dunny door.

Essendon

The new Sherriff Gillon (McMoron) McLachlan brought together an already tanked gunslinger Big Kev (Sheedy) and his loyal Confederate Mick Malthouse proclaiming: “ I want you to round up every vicious criminal in the West. Take this down.”
Big Kev looks for a pen and paper while Gillon talks.
“As the Governor Mike (Fitzy) Fitzatrick directive, I want you both to round up rustlers, bounty hunters, desperados, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, conmen, muggers, buggeres and bushwhackers.”
Big Kev finally finding a pen and paper. “Could you repeat that, Sheriff?” Stumbling on to Mick Malthouse.
“For God sakes!” Grumbled Mick angrily shoving Big Kev hard causing him to fall face down.

Shitney

John (Here’s Johnny!) Longmire clearly irritated about the new laws of the land imposed by the new Sheriff Gillon, hankering for a speedy explanation. “I better check out this McMoron character.” Grabbing his BD Professional slingshot.
“Oh no, don’t do that. If you sling him, you’ll just make him mad.” Pleaded Kieran (Kiki) Jack.
Appearing out of nowhere, Gary (Gazza the Dazzler) Ablett could not resist the opportunity. “You wanna see mad? Try some of this!” Kicking red dirt directly into John Longmire’s eyes, Gazza running like a bat out of hell for dear life.

Fremantle

“Unfortunately there is one thing standing between me and your property, the rightful owners.” Whined Tony (Geek) Peek to Ross (Rampaging) Lyon. Demetriou Jacko and I are not interested what have to say or even how your Dockers play.”
“Look at my hand. Steady as a rock” admitted Ross (Rampaging) Lyon raises a hand and holds it level. Ross raises the other hand, which is violently trembling continues: “Yeah, but I shoot with this one.”

North Melbourne

Triumphantly Brad (Not So Beam Me Up Scotty) Scott professed to his Kangaroos: “Here I stand to set you men on fire. We have the power to teach Damien (Hardly!) Hardwicke and his toothless Tigers to shut their jaws once and for all.”

 

Collingmaguirevomitshitwood

Big Kev straggles in with the new town Sheriff Gillon as they suspiciously witnessed Waco Jacko Demetriou and Tony in deep conversation with Bucks and his shitwoods.
Unimpressed Big Kev: “Meeting is adjourned.”
The Sheriff: “What?”
Big Kev: “Meeting is adjourned.”
The Sheriff: “It is?”
Big Kev: “No, you say that Sheriff.”
The Sheriff: “What?”
Big Kev: “ Meeting is adjourned.”
The Sheriff: “It is?”

Big Kev in defeat sighs, then gives Sheriff Gillon a football. “Here, Sheriff play with this. Mick and I are going back by the campfire for some good ol’ Aussie grub.

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Gillon of Seville…Giro Numero Undici…(Round 11)…

SEVILLE

Not far away from Etihad Stadium – Docklands, Rossini’s world famous opera “Il Barbiero di Siviglia” (The Barber of Seville) is playing exclusively for one night only at the Princess Theatre – Melbourne.
This performance is a special one, completely sold out. All proceeds go towards a charitable organization; this event was organized by leading sponsors and the AFL administration.
Meanwhile back at the AFL Headquarters – Docklands, inside the glass open view office of the newly appointed AFL CEO, the infighting between Gillon “McMoron” McLachlan and Andrew “Gaddafi” Demetriou is now at breaking and physical point. Escaping from the clutches of Demetriou’s headlock, Gillon kicks Andrew in the shins, flees from the top floor of the building through the back door, accessing the lifts for CEO only. Gillon heads down to the car park, dashes towards his black Lamborghini. In a frightful panic searching for his car keys, he drops the keys on to the floor. Eventually composing himself, Gillon speeds off in his car heading towards north into Spring Street.
Gasping for breath, Gillon heads to the back stage door of the Princess Theatre, without realizing Andrew was already there waiting for him making sure that Gillon is to going to get a grooming he will never forget.

Geelong

In hot pursuit, Gillon suddenly finds himself on stage at the Princess Theatre where the Barber of Seville is being staged. Andrew uses the situation to his full advantage and has Gillon in the barber chair where he gives him the full treatment.
“Welcome to my shop, let me cut your mop, let me shave you crop” Andrew singing out of tune.
“This is brilliant, I had no idea Andrew was a wannabe Tenor, fantastic! Squealed Chris (Beam Me Up Scotty)
“Mate! I think this is no act it’s real!” Laughed John (Here’s Johnny!) Longmire, adding, “count yourself lucky that It’s not me up there grooming you instead!”

Collingmaguirevomitshitwood

“Hey yoooou!” Screamed Andrew as Gillon was making his escape. “Don’t look so perplexed”. Why must you be next, yes your next!” Scissors waving in the air as Andrew began chasing Gillon around the stage. Nathan (Braggadocio) Buckley was in tears laughing out loud. Collingmaguireeddie was savoring every moment of this unconventional display on stage.
“At least the bloody media and press can now leave me alone for a change”. Leaning over towards “Bucks” who was in the aisle guffawing hysterically.

 
Port Adelaide

Paul (Lose) Roos seemed the only ALF member slightly concerned by this bizarre event. Maybe Gillon needed saving. Getting off from his chair, Ken (Kinky) Hinkley nudged Paul hard on his ribs.
“Sit down!” instructed Ken. “Enjoy the show, you might learn a thing or two. God knows your lot could learn from this.” Winked Ken shoving a mouthful of popcorn.

Carlton

“How about a close shave, teach your whiskers to behave. Lot’s of lather lots of soap. Please hold still don’t be a dope.” Forcing Gillon in the barber’s chair, Andrew wailing out of sync, flares his hairy nostrils, razor in the air.
“I could do with a shave.” Jonathan (Lost in Translation) Brown admitted rubbing his stubble.
“Shut your face stupid!” Hissed Marc (Junior) Murphy.

Essendon

Andrew is skipping around Gillon who is forcefully strapped on to the barber’s chair trembling. Andrew throws rods of cash at the Orchestra pit, forcing the conductor and the musicians to play on. Sharpening the razor pressing on with the following: “ Now we’re ready for the scrapin’. There’s no use to try escapin’. Yell and scream and rant and rave. There’s no use you need a close shave!”
Seated in dress circle, Bomber Thompson was nervously scanning the theatre making sure there were no ASADA officials lurking in the audience witnessing this calamity.

Gold Coast Bums

“Ooh ouch ouch ooh ooh ooh ouch!” Yelped poor Gillon as Andrew was swinging his razor from side to side carelessly.
“Phew! What a relief I lack in the hair department.” Confessed Gary (Gazza the Dazzler) Ablett rubbing his 10 million dollar baldhead.
“Seems to me you’re inadequate in every department at the moment!” Snorted Brenton (Sandman) Sanderson.

Fremantle

“There you’re nice and clean! Although your face looks like it might have gone through a
Ma-chine.” Andrew bowing to the audience feeling accomplished as always the centre of attention, disregarding the fact he is no longer the chief.

Hawthorn

“Look out!” Screeched Alistair (Angry Little Man) Clarkson to Andrew, Gillon almost transforming into the Incredible Hulk with rage. Chasing Andrew around the stage to teach him a lesson, they both end up running out the back stage door in to Spring Street.

West Coast Eagles

“I wanna see this fight, chief versus former chief, come on let’s go!” A delighted Adam (Go West!) rounded up his boys. Standing in the top end of Bourke and Spring Streets, there was no sign of Gillon or Andrew. Where did they go?
Shrugging his shoulders Adam and his Eagles headed off to the Imperial Hotel for a few pints of lager instead.

 

 

 

 

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Fawlty Towers…Giro Numero Dieci…(Round 10)…

 

Italian Correspondents Contessa BYRD, Signora MANSKI and Contessa UNCLE EV have a Torquay weekender holiday organised for our footy coaches.

faulty towers pic

Newly appointed AFL CEO Gillon “McMoron” McLachlan decided to send all six coaches’ – Geelong – Chris (Beam Me Up Scotty) Scott, Greater Western Shitney – Leon (King of Leon) Cameron, West Coast – Adam (Go West!) Simpson, Hawthorn – Alistair (Angry Little Man) Clarkson, Gold Coast Bums – Guy (Sly) McKenna, and Carlton – Mick (The Wise One) Malthouse to an all expenses paid weekend retreat to a hotel in the seaside town of Torquay.
The gateway of the Great Ocean Road. South Geelong.
Arriving at 8:00am to hotel Fawlty Towers on a wet, cold and miserable Saturday morning, all six coaches approached the reception desk for check in. The coaches’ were met by the rude and put upon owner – Basil Fawlty, screaming at the Spanish Waiter – Manuel, his bossy wife – Sybil and a comparatively normal chambermaid Polly.
“Welcome to Fawlty Towers gentleman, we sincerely hope your stay will be a memorable one. Manuel will show you to your rooms, won’t you Manuel?” Quizzed Basil nervously.
“Che?” Manuel replied awe struck by the coaches’ athletic appearance.
“Sorry he’s Spanish”. Basil shouting: “Manuel! ROOMS NOW! RA’PIDO! COMPRENDE!”
“Ah si Signor.” Eventually realizing what he had to do. “This way, follow me, up these stairs”. Smiled Manuel.
“What? No lifts?” Whined Alistair Clarkson.
Rolling his eyes Mick Malthouse retorted: “Stop your whining, you could do with some exercise.”

Geelong

Meeting at the hotel restaurant for dinner, all six coaches’ witnessed a frantic Basil Fawlty running in and out of the kitchen panic stricken. Stopped by his wife Sybil, she questions: “Basil dear, are you not going to tell these gentleman of the specials on the dinner menu tonight?”
“I was just doing it, you stupid woman. I just put it down, to come here to be reminded by you to do what I’m already doing. I mean what is the point in reminding me to do what I’m already doing? I mean, what is the bloody point? I’m doing it aren’t I?” Fumed Basil.
After taking their orders, Chris confesses to the other coaches’: “My twin brother Brad always says the same thing to me whenever I try to give him some coaching advice.”

GWS (God! What Slobs)

Leon Cameron was standing by reception waiting patiently to be served.
“Polly can you help me with this picture frame? I need a hammer. Where is Manuel?” Asked Basil.
Basil: “Look, uh, go get me a hammer.”
Manuel: “Uh, como?”
Basil: “Hammer.”
Manuel: “Hammer, oh, oh hamma sandwich?”
Basil: “Oh, do I have to go through this every time? Look a HAMMER.”
Manuel: “My Hamster?”
Basil: “ No, not your hamster. How can I knock a nail in with your hamster? Well…I could try; no it doesn’t…No I’ll get it. You come here and tidy. You know – tidy?”
Manuel: “Oh tidy. Si.”
Basil Fawlty walking away: “Yes, I’ll get hkhammer and hkit you on the hkead with it hkard.”
Leon Cameron eventually walked away from reception laughing hysterically.

West Coast

With the unrelenting rain still pelting down, the foul weather kept all of the coaches’ unwillingly indoors.
Adam Simpson was reading the morning paper, as he overheard the following:
“Are you going to the car?” Asked Sybil.
“In a moment my little piranha fish.” Teased Basil Fawlty.

Hawthorn

“God I’m bored. What is the point in all this? What a waste of a weekend.” Moaned Alistair Clarkson to Mick, Guy, Adam, Leon and Chris as they were doing stretching exercises by the stairwell at the foyer of the hotel. Alistair continuing: “I’m actually about to undergo an operation.”
Mick Malthouse snaps: “Oh Yes. How is the old toenail? Still growing in hmm? Still burrowing its way down to the bone? Still macheteing its way through the nerve aye?”
“That was a bit harsh mate”. Replied Leon Cameron.
“I know, better that than a fist in his face.” Smiled Mick.

Gold Coast Bums

Guy McKenna and crew were once again united at the hotel restaurant with his pals having a meal. What else is there to do? Can’t exactly go for a jog, the lawns outside resemble a swimming pool.
Excitedly Basil Fawlty with poor Manuel by his side skips towards the table hoping to whet the coaches’ appetites.
Basil Fawlty: “So, uh, this is your new menu.” Manuel with his pen and note pad ready, nervously looking on.
Guy McKenna reading the menu: “Duck with orange; duck with cherries; duck surprise.”
Chris Scott: “What’s duck surprise?”
Basil Fawlty: “Er…that’s duck without orange or cherries.”
Mick Malthouse clearly annoyed: “I mean, is there all there is – duck?”
Basil Fawlty: “Umm…yes…done, of course, in three extremely different ways.
Alistair Clarkson miffed: “And what do we do if we don’t like duck?”
Basil Fawlty: “Ah, well, if you don’t like duck, uhhh you’re all rather stuffed.”

Carlton

Mick Malthouse decided he could no longer take this anymore; he rounded up the other coaches’ and convinced them to pack their belongings and immediately call a taxi.
Basil Fawlty was at reception rudely answering the phone, Sybil was applying her flaming red lipstick using the hallway mirror, Polly was quietly humming to herself as she was feather dusting the reception area, finally Manuel walks and trips on to the bear rug, toppling over the silver tray he was carrying, dropping the decanter and spilling the entire contents of 80 year old malt Scotch whiskey on to the floor.

Basil Fawlty: quietly: “This is typical. Absolutely typical…of the kind of…”
Basil Fawlty was now shouting: “ARSE I have to put up with from you people!
You ponce in here expecting to be hand…waited on hand and foot, while I’m trying to run a hotel here! Have you any idea of how much there is to do? Do you ever think of that? Of course not! You’re all too busy sticking your noses into every corner, poking about for things to complain about, aren’t you? Well let me tell you something – You lot are a bunch of layabouts with nothing else better to do than to cause trouble!
Well, I’ve had fifteen years of pandering to the likes of you, and I’ve had enough!
Come on, pack your bags and get out!”

 

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