Flags, fires and stick thin presidents.

If I were in charge of making US flags I would make them out of flameproof material in the hope that would stop people in foreign countries burning them in the streets. Another option might be for the US to dump a few states. Or make some states share stars. That would cut down on the size of the flag. Folllowing that line of thnking the other rule I would introduce is that
the American people can only elect US presidents that are really really skinny. Like super model skinny. That way, when the flag burners go to the next level and build effigys of the US president to burn in the street they would end up with really small ones that burn so fast no one had time to film them. That way the American people wouldn't have to go through the torment of seeing a likeness of their elected leader burning.
Sure the effigy builders could make their models a little bigger, but when they carried it out into the street everyone would say ‘Who’s that meant to be?’
‘It is the President of USA.’ answers the proud guy who was voted most likely to end up, as a professional effigy builder at his primary school.
‘But it doesn’t look anything like him.’
That is like the ultimate insult you can give to a professionl effigy builder. And it would probably be enough tp put him off the business for good. It would be like meeting a person that owns one of the rehab centres that Lindsay Lohan has used ( and there are a few now) and saying ‘Oh, you looked after Lindsay. You must do good work.’
Flame proof flags and skinny presidents. These two things could really help the US with their image overseas. Of course the other option would be for America to stop using the bullshit pretence of ‘Bringing freedom to the world’ as an excuse to interfere with other nations business.

Might be time to make a bulk order of that flame proof material and get all the presidential hopefuls on the grapefruit diet. Or maybe they could all start living on a diet of vodka and cocaine. That keeps Lindsay pretty slim.

I’ve Bean thinking

Bean bags. What a brilliant invention. You don’t have to be a F1 driver to have a seat that fits the contours of your body. Just plonk your arse down (doesn’t matter what size) in a beanbags.
Bean bags. Inspired by the hacky sacks left behind by the giants that used to live in earth before us. I made a beanbag at school when I was 12. It was sewing class, which like cooking class was compulsory. First I made a pencil case. What could be easier? Two bits of material and a zip. Then I felt I was ready to move to the next level. A beanbag. 3 or 4 bits of material and a slightly longer zip. Of course the name beanbag can be a little miss leading. They are actually full of thousands and thousands and thousands of little polystyrene balls. But polystyrene Ball Bags just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Plus a bean bag looks a bit like a large nut sack and if it was called a something ball bag that would reinforce that image and probably put off a large number of buyers.
Ever unzip the beanbag and plunge your hand deep inside its recesses. You had to do it when mum wasn’t around casue if she saw you she would go off her head about the balls that would spill out and get on the floor. Remember that program All Creatures Great and Small about the English vet? It was [pretty crap but back then there were only two channels to watch anyway. But the from that show that stuck with me was when James Harriet the vet had to stick his hand up the cows arse right to his elbow. I reckon when he did that he would have been trying to pretend his arm was in a beanbag. Probably a nice tweed one.
One night at my friend Grant’s house when we were about 17 I was in his bathroom and noticed the bath was full of polystyrene balls. They had a flash red leather beanbag but Grants mum had sent it away to repairs. If you ever get the chance can I recommend you try getting into a bath full of polystyrene balls in your undies…….
So I was reminiscing about beanbags the other night with my friend Jeremy. He’s a base player so you have to understand that you can’t stretch the conversation to far. But the J mesiter had a cracker of an idea. Bean bags for the third world. Think about it. Whenever you see footage of starving people in refugee camps they are always standing around. They need somewhere to sit and if you gave them chairs they would probably pull them apart make a trolley, load up the family and piss off. They need bean bags. Now I know what you’re thinking. ‘A base player came up with this idea?’ I swear its true. And it gets better. Jeremy’s brain wave was to fill the beanbags with real beans so that when they get hungry. Which would probably be all the time. They can unzip the bag and whip out some beans and cook up a feed. This is how we are going to save the world people. Smart thinking for the rhythm section and shit loads of beanbags. We could even go one step further. Get Heniz involved and make Baked Beanbags. You would want to take the beans out of the can first though, cause if you put the cans in the beanbag it would be bloody uncomfortable and starving or not no one is going to be compfy in a lumpy beanbag.

The mother of all lines.

Saddam has gone now. But he lives on with one of histories great lines.
‘The Mother of all battles’
The battle – Gulf War1, never lived up to the hype. Kind of like a Don King fight. But the line lived on through the 90’s and into the 21st century. And I bet Saddam kicked himself or had some of his advisors shot for letting that opportunity slip away. He should have secured the rights to that little puppy. Then he wouldn’t have had to worry about the royalties from his romance novels to make him his millions. (I assume that is what paid for all his palaces and not using his position as leader of Iraq for his own personal financial gain).
Imagine the pressure Saddam was under in 2003. With the invasion of Iraq looming the world’s media waited eagerly for his new creation. But he couldn’t repeat the magic. Like Dirty Dancing 2 it just never managed to live up to the hype.

Mind you George W didn’t do so good either - Mission Accomplished? Not only was it bullshit it just didn’t have that extra zing that makes you want to adapt it for your own person use. Now Saddam’s line has turned up in all sorts of different places. We’ve had,
The Mother of all hurricanes, The Mother of all budgets, The Mother of all ride on lawn mower sales. And for the lucky few, the line can be made to work even harder.
The Mother of all Mothers day buffets
The mother of all Mother Fuckers (that could be the line for a Steven Segal film. One where he plays an ex special forces commando retired to a small town who has to use all his deadly skills to confront the rich baddie who runs the town using a bunch of check shirt, trucker cap wearing farmhands with m16’s. In other words the plot for every Segal movie)

Saddam is gone, but his line lives on. He set the standard. Not only for the amount of gold fixtures you should have in your bathroom, but also the kind of tag line you take into battle. Perhaps when the White House extracts itself from the mother of all foreign invasion fuck ups they will take the time to acknowledge that and ensure that never again do the American people have to settle for a ‘Mission Accomplished’.

Bobby & Binny

You remember Bobby Brown. He had some hits in the late 80’s and since then has concentrated on hits on the crack pipe. Well he must have enough money left to hire the world’s greatest PR people because you have to be good to come up with the kind of story they put out last week. Bobby announced to the world that Osama Bin Laden had at some stage, wanted him dead so he could marry his ex missus, Whitney Houston. Now I know what you’re thinking. This was timed to come out with Bobby’s tour of Australia as a way of generating publicity and letting Australia’s crack dealers know he is on the way. No way. No one could make this kind of shit up. And once you stop to think about it, it seems so obvious.
Stuck in a cave, somewhere on the Afghan/ Pakistan border, Bin laden only has his dialysis machine and a pile of Whitney Houston Cd’s to keep him company. It stands to reason that he would put the war on terror on hold to focus his amorous attentions on a burnt out crack addict. It probably wasn’t Whitney’s music that put her on Osama’s lust radar. It would have been her riveting performance in the cinematic masterpiece ‘Bodyguard’.
If George W Bush was a smarter man (as opposed to an ex alchoholic, drug taking spoilt rich kid who was installed as a puppet president to give the illusion of democracy so George seniors cronies can push through their own agenda) he would use Whitney to lure Osama out of hiding. Get her to announce a big concert in Islamabad. Wait till she is halfway through ‘I will always love you’ then nuke the stadium. Mind you, that could lead to some American casualties. There are bound to be a few entertainment press in the crowd as well as Whitney’s drug rehab buddy and her crack dealer. It might be easier just to take out the corporate boxes with a few cruise missiles. Al Queda are bond to have a corporate box. Osama would be right at home up there. It would be just like being in his cave but with a better view and a fully stocked bar.