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Last updated on July 2nd, 2017 at 09:08 am
I’m out of here for a time. Deepest thanks to readers, friends, News Ltd mates and fellow journalists who wrote, emailed, phoned, left messages, and posted their prayers and support. You’ve helped me through a tough week; hell, you softened that week right up into a fine weeky paste. That week got beat on hard.
See you soon, and no prying through my collection of antique bold tags while I’m out. I’ll know.
- Posted by Some0Seppo on 2008 01 19 at 01:45 PM • permalink
May this be the shortest open thread ever.
Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Tim
Posted by MentalFloss on 2008 01 19 at 02:41 PM • permalink
{i}Irritated voice within the Pearly Gates{/i}: Who is it?
Me: St. Peter, sir, it’s me again. I need to talk to God.
St. Peter: What is it now? This is the umpteenth time this week!
Me; Yessir, I’m sorry to be a bother, but…
St. Peter: Oh, for the love of… Is this about that Blair fellow again?
Me: Yessir, it is, but…
[I]Pearly Gates are flung open. St. Peter, hands on hips, taps his foot: Okay, okay! Take a number and have a seat. It’s not like you’re the only one. The sooner this gets taken care of, the sooner we’ll have some peace and quiet around here.
Be well, Tim, and do have somebody let us know how you’re doing.
I’m off to church this morning, so I’m happy to have a word to the congregation for extra oomph in all those prayers we’re sending your way, Tim.
Good luck and God bless.
Posted by Nilknarf Arbed on 2008 01 19 at 03:52 PM • permalink
No worries mate. You’ll be right.
Posted by daddy dave on 2008 01 19 at 04:40 PM • permalink
- Posted by Bruce Rheinstein on 2008 01 19 at 04:40 PM • permalink
Now that the overseers are busy…
Lets talk about a little bit of revolution.
It is time that we, the lowly commenter class, are allowed to use italics all we want. Our words deserve to look cool and slanty too!
Are we not commenters?! Do our comments not deserve to have full access to the glittery gizmos and cool do-dads that others get?
Do we not also strive to stay on topic, mostly?
Do we not also strain to put words in proper order so that coherent thoughts might be conveyed in our submissions?
Why do THEY get the perks and privileges of fancy letters while we must content ourselves with plain ol’ plain ol’?
Arise commenters! Lay claim to italics as our due and just desserts!
And, speaking of desserts, anyone got a good recipe for Mississippi Mud?
Fight that tumor ‘till Hell freezes over, then give it another round on the ice.
Good luck Tim, we’re all cheering for you.
Posted by Michael Lonie on 2008 01 19 at 05:43 PM • permalink
Best of luck Tim. Hope everything goes well and we see you back here soon slaying lefties.
Posted by Hank Reardon on 2008 01 19 at 06:17 PM • permalink
Ive got a packet of “Mr woofies liver treats”, anyone know how to pick the lock on the
mead storeitallics cabinet?Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2008 01 19 at 06:19 PM • permalink
Rather puts my problems in perspective.
If anyone has the guts (in both senses) to fight this, it’s you, Tim. Give it hell!!
Posted by David Morgan on 2008 01 19 at 06:34 PM • permalink
Good luck, Tim. We’ll all be here when you get back. Hopefully, we’ll have the place cleaned up by then.
;^)
Posted by Spiny Norman on 2008 01 19 at 06:48 PM • permalink
Paco, here are the keys to the liquor cabinet!
Posted by Mr. Bingley on 2008 01 19 at 06:56 PM • permalink
May the surgeon’s knife be sharp, clean and steady. Good Speed.
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2008 01 19 at 07:14 PM • permalink
#24 Grimmy, we also strive who only stand and type.
Posted by Wimpy Canadian on 2008 01 19 at 07:18 PM • permalink
Reading some of the accounts on earlier threads here regarding physical exams and all, I really feel for this guy…
Hit on the head and gets rectal exam?
A visit to a hospital for a bump to the head turned into a big pain in the posterior for a Brooklyn construction worker.
Brian Persaud ended up in handcuffs and under arrest when he loudly protested that doctors at New York-Presbyterian Hospital Weill Cornell didn’t need to give him a rectal exam after a piece of wood clocked him on the forehead.
“This poor guy goes in for eight stitches and he ends up in jail,” said his lawyer, Gerard Marrone.
Persaud, 38, was working at a midtown construction site in May 2003 when a plank slammed him in the head, knocking him down.
Medical records state Persaud was “alert and oriented times three” when he was taken to the hospital’s emergency room, where a resident informed him he needed a rectal examination.
The revelation about the rectal exam set off Persaud, who smacked a doctor during a struggle and yelled, “Where I came from, you don’t put anything in someone’s a———!”
The outburst led to Persaud being sedated and arrested
I think I’d be avoiding that ER.
Posted by spot_the_dog on 2008 01 19 at 09:20 PM • permalink
- Posted by miriams ideas on 2008 01 19 at 11:36 PM • permalink
My continued prayers for you and your family!
Posted by Sharon_Ferguson on 2008 01 20 at 12:00 AM • permalink
Oh, my, Andrea is gonna be PISSED.
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2008 01 20 at 12:58 AM • permalink
- Posted by Nilknarf Arbed on 2008 01 20 at 01:17 AM • permalink
- come back Tim, and come back Andrea.
The kids are running amok.Posted by daddy dave on 2008 01 20 at 01:20 AM • permalink
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Return to Previous PagePosted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 20 at 02:29 AM • permalink
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Return to Previous PagePosted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 20 at 02:30 AM • permalink
- Bit late as ususal, but good luck Tim!!
Just let the doctors do their job and you slide into unconciousness and before you know it you’ll waft back here again and comment hard!You might have to watch the way you use phrase “I couldn’t stomach it” though.#24 Grimmy. If anything has the word “Mud” in it, the recipe calls for lots and lots of chocolate. This much I know. If it’s a Mississipi Mud, maybe you have to pour the chocolate in with a menacing air…
Posted by carpefraise on 2008 01 20 at 03:56 AM • permalink
Since I use bold sparingly, I’ve saved up plenty of bold for just such events as these. See how putting off instant gratification works?[sup]1[/sup] 🙂
[sup]1[/sup]Footnotes on the other hand…Posted by mythusmage on 2008 01 20 at 05:47 AM • permalink
Well Tim, I guess this coming week is when the real soldiering gets done.
Storm the trenches! Don’t fire till ye see the whites of their eyes! One if by jar, two if by bedpan! March home, triumphant! [/antique cliché generator]
*moments later, stony-faced glares from the real soldiers on this blog serve up grilled splice on toast*
Good luck! Somebody up there said hot sauce, but I’m not so sure a flaming ring would be the best thing to risk under the circumstances.
Posted by Tommy Shanks on 2008 01 20 at 07:12 AM • permalink
I couldn’t come up with a lame, snarky or smartarse comment, Tim.
So I will just add my little bit to the many good thoughts and prayers going your way from your many readers.
Good luck for tomorrow, and may He guide the surgeon’s hand.
Posted by Pedro the Ignorant on 2008 01 20 at 10:06 AM • permalink
Hey, I’ve got a colonoscopy joke! Wanna hear it?
Okay, here goes:
A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopy:
1. Take it easy, Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone before!
2. Find Amelia Earhart yet?’
3. Can you hear me NOW?’
4. Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’
5. You know, in Arkansas, we’re now legally married.
6. Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?’
7. You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out…’
8. Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!’
9. If your hand doesn’t fit, you must quit!
10. Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.’
11. ‘You used to be an executive at Enron, didn’t you?’
12. ‘God, now I know why I am not gay.’
And the best one of all..
13. Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?’
- Best wishes and keep up the positive attitude.
We’ll all still be here when you get back… With whatever is left of the house… and the empty beer cans… and…, well, you get the idea.Posted by Not My Problem on 2008 01 20 at 02:28 PM • permalink
but…but…think of us in the Public Service – what will we do now? How will we fill our days?
Damned inconsiderate I reckon.
All the best mate
Posted by Pig Head Sucker on 2008 01 20 at 07:16 PM • permalink
Who’s the fuckstain using TRJ’s handle? Yeah, hide big boy, because if you ever slip up and show your face you’ll be shitting teeth.
Posted by Steve Skubinna on 2008 01 20 at 09:26 PM • permalink
- Steve here’s what I’m going to do to that TRJ imposter.
get some]Posted by The_Thin_Man_Returns on 2008 01 20 at 09:34 PM • permalink
Jeff, I deleted your previous comment where you tried to fix the screwed-up tags. I have also deleted the shitstain’s comments (the one using a fake of your name and also “Gazza Logie”—see the previous post for my admin update). Don’t try to fix the formatting problems yourselves, people! The Mgmt, aka Andrea Harris, Administrator.
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2008 01 20 at 10:08 PM • permalink
- Day one- all thoughts with you-take all the analgesia and keep up deep breathing and coughing- passive limb exercises- I have been doing them all day so now it’s your turn.
You are so much in our thoughts and the first knowledge – shock and operation are over so now it’s onwards and upwards and we are rootin and tootin with everything we’ve got. Going to toast you with that special red w’ve been saving for something important
G-d bless you
the new western australian liberal leader appears to have been a party animal in his youth (hat tip andrew landeryou). anyone got any ifo to back this up?
Seeing as how this thread has been cleaned up, it’s time to let the bold tags out . . . .
Posted by Young and Free on 2008 01 21 at 05:43 AM • permalink
We seem to be back in business. Better not try a strike out.
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 05:52 AM • permalink
- Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 05:54 AM • permalink
- Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 05:54 AM • permalink
- Posted by curious george on 2008 01 21 at 05:56 AM • permalink
- Posted by curious george on 2008 01 21 at 05:58 AM • permalink
Why is everybody ignoring Italics? Is it a racist thing? Maybe if it was Greekics?
Posted by curious george on 2008 01 21 at 05:59 AM • permalink
Or maybe I should finish my beer and go to bed
Posted by curious george on 2008 01 21 at 06:00 AM • permalink
Bold? Who needs from bold? Now bold italic underlining is the way to go!
Posted by mythusmage on 2008 01 21 at 06:18 AM • permalink
- First we had party Corey, then we had the drain painters, then like Peer we entered a mountain and saw a troll king and his court performing a diabolical dance.
What next?Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 06:56 AM • permalink
Tim remembers he hocked his collection of antique bold tags to raise money to help during the great paleohtml crisis of 1983?
Posted by mythusmage on 2008 01 21 at 07:08 AM • permalink
Senior Minionettes Pogria and Kae!! Grimmy’s been at the italics jar again. You know what Tim said last time.
Get yer black leather gear on and make with the whips.
MarkL
Minionmeister to the VRWCPS. And do not forget to video the flogging. The Dark Lord wants to gift-wrap the disc and send it to Tim to cheer him up.
#47: Hey, Bryla, I did the Peninsula Development Road a mere 2 weeks ago.
Amazing – you start going 120, 130, 140, 150 and then you think “Fuck, they’re going to throw my licence away!”, you slow down to 120, and rinse, lather, repeat.
Black Mountain – got to be seen to be believed. Lion’s Den – You’ve gotta have a beer (or two) there before you die. Utter bliss.
Bryla, despite your prolaterian political beliefs, I’ll do my best to look you up when next in Cairns – I can imagine an interesting discussion (or two).
At least we both wish Tim the very best.
Salud!
Be thinking of you all the time Tim, and checking for your return every day. All best wishes and fondness.
Posted by Mambo Bananapatch on 2008 01 21 at 09:03 AM • permalink
Officially sanctioned usage of italics—>
Now that the overseers are busy… Lets talk about a little bit of revolution. It is time that we, the lowly commenter class, are allowed to use italics all we want.
Grimmy, you touch those font jars, I’ll tie you to the turning stick over the spit some of the minions constructed for a party.
DON’T TOUCH THE FONT JARS PEOPLE. We’re on a budget here.
Posted by wronwright on 2008 01 21 at 10:06 AM • permalink
Say, it’s after midnight in Sydney; Tim ought to be out from under by now. Let’s call his hospital room and see how he’s doing.
*Ring, ring!*
Sexy woman’s voice: Hello? (giggles immoderately, and says, aside: “Stop that, you naughty boy!” )
Me: Er, is this Tim Blair’s hospital room? I’m calling to see how he’s doing.
Sexy woman’s voice: This is Nurse Goodbody. Mr. Blair seems to be doing just fine (another sexy woman’s voice in background: “Woo, love, you’re a bit of an octopus, aren’t you? Be still, now, or you’re going to undo your stitches.”)
Me: Say, what’s going on there? Is Tim in danger?
Nurse: No, but the nursing staff is falling back in disorder ( Strains of Waltzing Matilda, sung in an enthusiastic, but mediocre voice, heard in background, to a strange tinny beat, rather as if a bedpan were being used as a drum).
Me: I hear some kind of gargling noise. Tim isn’t choking on something, is he?
Nurse: No, he’s just helping himself to some anesthetic that was sneaked into his room today by one of his mates (”Now, Mr. Blair! Let’s have that bottle of mead . . . there’s a good boy!)
Me: Well, it sounds like he’s doing ok. Tell him that we’re all pulling for him ( Feminine shriek of laughter heard in background; ”Stop, love! That tickles!).
Nurse: I will, just as soon as I can get his attention. Uh oh!
Me: What? What’s happening?
Nurse: We’ve got a Code Blue down the hall! A troll was brought in early this morning; looked like he’d been tossed into a wood chipper. And it was the strangest thing: his narrow little forehead had the initals “A.H.” carved on it, with some kind of ragged, obsidian spearhead, seemed like. He must be sinking fast. Come on, Nurse Heartbottom; straighten your hat and let’s go! ( Drops phone without hanging up).
Me: Hello? Hello?
*Glug, glug, glug* Ahhhhh! Nothing like gutting a quart pot of “Hammurabi’s Finest”! Now, where was I . . . Oh, yeh . . .
“Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong,
Up got the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
And he sang as he stowed that jumbuck in his tucker bag,
“You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me”.
Isn’t it odd how they put Tim on all those colon cleansers for his surgery and suddenly our little troll plops on the board?
Posted by richard mcenroe on 2008 01 21 at 11:40 AM • permalink
#122: Ah! So it does, Latino, so it does.
Say, whose brilliant idea was it to allow cross-over voting in the primaries?
- Good article, Paco #124. Let’s hold off on crowning the republican nominee until republicans have had their say. There was an organized effort in MI by democrats to push McCain over Romney only foiled by bad weather. Hopefully the big states don’t really care what IA caucuses and the NH primary say.
One of my biggest problems with John McCain is that he has bought into the global warmening hoax, hook line and sinker.
Hugo Chavez: explained, at last.
Somebody needs to tell the boys at the DEA to pick this punk up, get him off the streets.
Now, this is the kind of thing that I think has to hurt Hillary: Obama duking it out with Bill. It’s almost as if the “little lady” is being shunted aside. I read somewhere that some senior Democrats are trying to get Bill to butt out, but it’s unlikely he will do so: he just can’t resist being the center of attention.
- What did they used to say about Bill? He has to be the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral?
It isn’t only Hillary’s personality or lack thereof that gives her so many negatives – it’s his presence as well. Just a reminder to people that he comes as part of the package – do we want to go all through that again?
What scares me is thatOsamaObama may be more electable.
#128: Speaking for myself, I definitely don’t want to go through four years (or – Good God! – eight years) of revived Clintonism.
Hey, I’m watching a fascinating nature show on the History Channel about North America’s greatest freshwater game fish: the northern pike, the muskey and the lake trout. Some Canadian guy swears he hooked a lake trout as long as his boat (14 feet) and fought it for six hours before, um, his rod shattered and line snapped and the thing got away. Anyhow, these things must make for great sport fishing. Wimpy (or anybody else): have you ever fished for these things?
Again, best wishes for a full and speedy recovery. Pick up something by Cormac McCarthy if you’ve got some spare time to read.
Posted by charles austin on 2008 01 21 at 12:56 PM • permalink
Another dose of dhimmitude.
Money quote: “candidates miss the most important fact about the conflicts in Iraq and throughout the Muslim world – that militant Muslim zealots are primarily at war with their own people, most of whom they regard as decadent apostates.”
Hmm. Guess Osama and the boys got some bad intelligence reports: you know, about hordes of Muslim apostates hiding out in the Trade Towers and the Pentagon.
Don’t these idiots realize that by making excuses for murderers (and reigning in their criticism of Islam’s intellectual bankruptcy and refusing to publish Mohammed cartoons and ignoring the oppression of women, etc., etc.), that they’re already effectively paying the jizya – the tax paid by non-believers to their Muslim overlords?
Be sure to get good drugs. You can resell them on the open market for cash to pay your bar tab.
Posted by Ernst Blofeld on 2008 01 21 at 02:28 PM • permalink
- #133, they don’t realize it because to them, Republicans are the enemy.
They also don’t realize that the term Islamofascist is used to distinguish between ordinary Muslims – those that don’t think I deserve to die if I don’t convert to Islam – and the fascists who want to bring about the worldwide caliphate.
But the Left has been wrong about every issue in my lifetime anyway.
Just what has Phat Phil been smoking now?
Posted by AlphaMikeFoxtrot on 2008 01 21 at 02:30 PM • permalink
I sat at the table, looking grimly at the lumps of organic material on the tray. I poked a slab of grayish, leathery material with my knife, and it began to ooze a yellowish bile. A lumpy mound of white tissue competed with a pile of sodden green stalks for first prize in the “Disgusting Unidentified Objects” category. A square of cardboard-like material lathered with what appeared to be a mixture of Vaseline and gunpowder began to go soggy around the edges by virtue of its proximity to the aforementioned yellow bile. I lay the knife down carefully, and wondered how this could have happened. Lost in my contemplation of the crime, I was startled by a familiar voice.
“Paco, are you about finished with your lunch? It’s your turn to stand guard.”
I looked up at Wronwright – and did a double-take. His normal pasty complexion was unaccountably black, as if he’d been practicing for a scene in a minstrel show, and his hair had gone frizzy, like an over-used Brillo pad. I pushed the tray of food away from me, and glanced around the hospital cafeteria: everybody else was shoveling the swill into their mouths with genuine gusto. Me? I’d wait for a chance to get back to my hotel room and the suitcase full of Lance peanut-butter crackers.
“Wronwright, what’s with the disguise?”
I assumed he must have blushed; his newly dark complexion started to take on a kind of burnt ochre shade. “Well, a package was delivered to Tim’s room marked ‘Finest Sumerian Mead’. I figured I’d better open it – you know, just to be on the safe side – and the package blew up. Fortunately, the charge wasn’t too big, and there were no projectiles – it was more like a smoke bomb. But it shows that the trolls are still out to get Tim.”
I poured a little water from my glass onto a napkin and gave it to Wronwright with instructions to wash up, while I pondered this assignment.
I had been hired to provide protection for Tim while he was in the hospital, since he was a high-profile target for various leftist kooks who would stop at nothing to take down this titan of the Australian blogosphere. Wronwright had begged to come along, and he had proved to be a man of keen resourcefulness on previous jobs, so I had brought him with me.
“It’s perplexing”, I said, more or less thinking out loud. “How are these packages getting through? The nurses’ station has been put on alert, and all of them swear that they haven’t taken anything into Tim’s room, except for medication and food – (I looked at my tray, again ) – or something remotely resembling food, anyway.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s the nurses!” Wronwright got a far-away, wistful look on his face. “And I’m sure it’s not the head nurse, Miss Honeybosom.”
Uh oh. I could tell that Wronwright was off somewhere, in his mind’s eye, running barefoot through a field of daisies with the amply-endowed Nurse Honeybosom, with a picnic basket on one arm and an extra-large comfy blanket on the other.
“Wronwright, we can’t afford to trust anybody. And, by the way, who’s watching Tim right now?”
Wronwright’s now-clean visage took on a sheepish look. “Er, I just came down here long enough to grab a soda and to get you. But he’s fine, Paco. Nurse Honeybosom promised she’d keep a close eye on him.”
I walked quickly to the cashier and paid my bill, Wronwright trotting along behind.
We caught the elevator up to Tim’s floor and entered his room. Tim was resting quietly, but we seemed to have startled the nurse, who suddenly hid her hands behind her back and caught her breath in an audible gasp.
“Oh! Detective Paco! You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.”
I leaned against the door, pushed my fedora back, and gave her a wry smile.
“See, Paco”, said Wronwright. “I told you Tim was in good hands.” He smiled ingratiatingly at Nurse Honeybosom.
“You know, ma’am, your moniker’s particularly appropriate. You’ve really got that little something extra.” Her breasts were heaving in anxiety as she breathed rapidly – all three of them. I walked up to her, reached out a hand, and struck her rack with the knuckle of my index finger. The resulting clank! echoed in the room.
Her normally gorgeous, heart-shaped face twisted in hatred, as she drew her hands from behind her back and held up a long syringe, brandishing it like a knife.
As her fist plunged down toward my chest, Wronwright, moving with the speed and agility of a gazelle, grabbed a bedpan and shielded me from the blow. The needle broke harmlessly against the thin metal. She fell against Wronwright, who pinned her arms behind her back.
“You’ll excuse me, of course”, I said, undoing the top couple of buttons on her blouse, and extracting a can of Foster’s Ale. “You see, Wronwright, good Nurse Honeybosom was going to inject Tim with Foster’s Ale – and judging by the size of that syringe, it would have permanently damaged his ability to savor real Australian beer, probably permanently. The ramifications for his social life going forward are obvious.”
Wronwright looked aghast at Nurse Honeybosom. I’ll give her this, though; she didn’t give up easily. Turning her slightly hooded, bedroom eyes to gaze at Wronwright, she said softly, “What about our picnic, Wron?” (I knew it!).
Wronwright struggled with himself – the soul-tussling primarily taking the form of nervous gulps of air, rapidly blinking eyelids, and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as if he’d swallowed a yo-yo – but finally his confusion dissipated, and a steely gleam entered his eyes. “You’re taking the fall. I hope they don’t swing you by that pretty little neck, precious.”
I called security, and they came to take Nurse Honeybosom away. I put a steadying hand on Wronwright’s shoulder. “I guess anybody can be a troll, Wronwright; you just never can tell. Thanks for saving my life, incidentally. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink. By the way, that line – “You’re taking the fall” – pretty good. Maltese Falcon, wasn’t it?
Wronwright pursed his lips and glared at me – all the way to the pub.
Has global warming given Canadians heat stroke or something?
Captain Heinrichs, you’d better remember to wear a hat out of doors.
- Paco
It’s worse, Mark C. found some stuff that I never knew. And that’s the good stuff. Evidently there’s more here.Word to the wise, stay out of Canada …Cheers
Posted by J.M. Heinrichs on 2008 01 21 at 04:47 PM • permalink
#144 & #145: Horrible stories, Captain. Sad times for a great nation.
#143: Thanks, Latino. Just between you, me and the lamp post, I have recently entered a short story in some contests, but the earliest I’ll be getting any word will probably be around March. The story’s set in the late ‘30’s in New York, and revolves around a soft-hearted and hapless junior member of Murder, Incorporated who’s accidentally responsible for killing the one person the mob desperately wanted to keep alive (it is, naturally, a comic tale).
Oh, man, I’ve been hit with the Zulu spear!!!!!
Ouch!
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2008 01 21 at 05:00 PM • permalink
#147: Yeah, she also got me with one, a while back. Get yourself one of these.
Everyone has covered the encouragement comments so well that there is nothing left to add, except that I can’t leave this thread without saying something.
So, just this: Tim, you are a delight and a light. You are needed still in this poor world to help make it tolerable. I’m looking forward to your triumphant return.
#136 AlphaMikeFoxtrot: The truth is, Phil lost his mind quite a while ago; the incident is now something of a “cold case”. Searchers recently turned up a fetid piece of gray matter about the size of a Milk Dud near the compost pile at Phil’s “organic ranch” (The Lazy P: The Home of Mellow Beef), but DNA tests were inconclusive. We will not give up, though; the search for Phil’s mind continues!
Rex is okay. “El Sid,” however, was another Garry Logan special, and he has been banned and his comments deleted.
No new registrations are being accepted, by the way.
Posted by Andrea Harris, Administrator on 2008 01 21 at 06:14 PM • permalink
- Tim,
Your daily battles with the forces of the Dark Side have prepared you well for your fight with cancer. Get well soon – we need you back at the front! Until then, our prayers to you and your loved ones.Posted by CharlieBravo on 2008 01 21 at 06:16 PM • permalink
- I’m sure that if there was news we’d know.
It’s major surgery and can be complicated.I want to know, too! Fortunately he’s probably quite zonked at the moment.Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as the surgeon first assessed. (I know, diagnosis is so good these days you pretty much go into any surgery knowing exactly what’s going to happen!)
If anyone there has news, who is near Tim and knows others who may have heard anything, any news would be good, good news would be fantastic.
No, I haven’t had any news yet.
Posted by Andrea Harris, Administrator on 2008 01 21 at 06:25 PM • permalink
I saw all the troll havoc last night, and opted out because I was in no fit mood to battle effectively. Besides, I knew Andrea would catch up with that vile little skidmark of a human being and erase him from existence sooner or later. She is not only our Mistress Over All, but our Protectoress. Trolls are as dust beneath her feet.
Also, I see Paco and Wronwright have been keeping… um… guard in the hospital. Nurse Honeybosom has been dispatched to her just desserts, but what about Dr. Cutright? (I actually knew a dentist by that name).
#165. Lingus. Well, that kinda introduced a sustained pause in the narrative flow, what?
#130.Charles. I was given ‘The Road’, by Mc Carthy. I agree it’s brilliantly written, but very bleak. I know apocalyptic themes are all the go at the moment, but the conclusion seemed such a small payoff (ie. triumph of the human spirit) reluctantly allowed. This is the only one of his I’ve read, surely they’re not all like this?
#136 AlphaMikeFoxtrot: Nothing new for Phil and the Whitlam-worshippers of the left. In the republican debate a few years ago, they seemed to see the Governor-General as merely a rubber stamp and the Constitution as something for them to fiddle with according to whim. They got a shock when Kerr turfed Whitlam out and another when the people ditched the republic referendum proposal.
Higgledy, piggledy,
Whitlam and company,
Picked for their GG
A lawyer, of course.
Then when defeat seemed an
Impossibility
Sadly they found that they’d
Backed the wrong horse.Backing wrong horses is a specialty of the left . And when they do they want their money back.
Posted by s.r.intulom on 2008 01 21 at 07:41 PM • permalink
#171 & 173; T shirts come in sizes? Just get large.
Posted by dean martin on 2008 01 21 at 08:13 PM • permalink
O/T – All Ordinaries down 300 points and closing on 5% down after yesterday’s loss of 3%. That takes the fall to about 22% since November, putting the market squarely in Bear territory.
It’s no coincidence that the market’s been in freefall ever since the KRudd, Gillard and Swan got their grubby mitts on the tiller. A whole generation is about to discover that a strong economy isn’t a birthright.
I trust fellow Blairites could see this coming and sold out post KRudd. Anyone suffering margin calls has my sympathy.
Andrea Harris, Administrator, could any news about his Timship go at top of opening page in case it gets lost in comments?
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 09:30 PM • permalink
Ubique it seems each generation needs to relearn the national socialist lesson.
“The man who is not a socialist at twenty has no heart, but if he is still a socialist at forty he has no head.” – Aristide Briand
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 09:33 PM • permalink
Everyone must have heard, by now, of the liberal anti-war lawyer in Chicago who vandalized a Marine’s car, was caught in the act by said Marine, and was finally hauled into court (with very satisfying results); if not, check out the story via this link, courtesy of the Real Jeff.
You will note that the villain talks of going to the south of France. What, I wonder, will become of him there? Let’s see . . .
Jay Grodner’s Excellent French Adventure: Part I
Jay Grodner sat in the dim light of a seedy café near the docks of Marseille, pondering the wisdom of having fled the United States for the presumed anti-war congeniality of southern France. The café was filled with tough-looking customers, who glanced at him from time to time, then broke into loud guffaws. Maybe it was his attire. He had been somewhat dubious about outfitting himself in that shop in Chicago (“Monsieur Paqueau’s Genuine French Fashions”), but he had been in a hurry to escape the ridicule of his fellow attorneys after the infamous vandalism incident. Seated there in the half-light, decked out in black smock, puffy white shirt, a limp, green velour Lord Byron cravat, and an enormous, floppy black beret that looked like a sooty chef’s hat with the stovepipe cut off, Grodner couldn’t help but wonder if Monsieur Paqueau hadn’t, as they say, “seen him coming.” Nobody else in the café dressed this way. In fact, nobody in France appeared to be dress this way (except for Toulouse Lautrec, in a poster he had seen at the railway station).
Take that fellow standing over by the bar, for example – the one cracking walnuts in his fist. He was wearing a short leather jacket, dungarees, work boots, and a newsboy cap. And the other man next to him, in the navy pea coat and blue slacks. Well, in any event, they looked like sturdy members of the French proletariat. Certainly, in spite of his air of being a sort of tinhorn Frenchman, they would appreciate his antiwar stance.
He rose from his table and ambled over to the bar, smiling at the two Frenchmen. “Pardon me, messieurs, but I’m a newcomer, and my French is not very good. Parle vous englais?”
The nut-cracker eyed him with a bemused expression, but said nothing. The man in the pea coat smiled wryly and spoke. “Oui, monsieur, we speak a little of the English. But I must caution you” he said, eyeing Grodner up and down, “thees is not that kind of café.”
Grodner blushed and was quick to exclaim. “Oh, er, no, of course not. Heh. I bought these clothes in America. I was sort of in a rush, and, er . . . listen, may I buy you gentlemen a drink?”
Grodner jumped, as a walnut splintered in the nut-cracker’s mighty fist, sounding like a shot from a gun. Again, nut-cracker smiled, but said nothing. “Merci”, said the blue-clad fellow. “If you weesh to buy us the dreenk, we are weeling to overlook your . . . preferonce.”
Grodner’s two new friends ordered brandy, he made it three, and then he took the next step in his attempt to create a little cordialité.
“You gentlemen are looking at a man without a country, a man essentially chased out of the United States, simply for exhibiting too great a love for his fellow man, and possessing a, perhaps, unfortunate tendency for expressing that love in an overly dramatic way.”
Navy pea coat frowned. “As I told monsieur, thees café is not . . .”
“No, no, my friend. You misunderstand. I committed an act of protest against America’s illegitimate war in the middle east by vandalizing the car of a jarhead.”
Navy pea coat’s eyebrows rose, registering perplexity. “Jar. . .head?”
“”Yes”, said Grodner, giggling in an ingratiating way. “Jarhead. A euphemism for a U.S. Marine.”
Jay Grodner’s Excellent French Adventure: Part II
*Crack*, went nut-cracker (who had just pulverized two extra-large walnuts, creating a noise not unlike that of a firing squad in a small courtyard); he no longer smiled, but this time spoke. “My son eez serving weet ze French infantry in Afghanistan.”
“And my brother”, growled navy pea coat through clinched teeth, “was a policeman seriously injured in a Paris banlieu by a Muslim mob!”
Navy pea coat pulled a few euros from his pocket, plucked Grodner’s beret off his now-perspiring bald head, thrust the money into the cap, and then jammed it back onto Grodner’s head.
“Zat is for ze drinks, monsieur. And I hope ze hat is . . .how you say? . . .waterproof?
“Why?”, squeaked Grodner.
*********
Late that night, as the docks stood shrouded in fog, a gendarme walked his rounds. As he approached a pier near one of the more disreputable cafes, he heard a rhythmic splashing noise, like a big dog paddling around in the water. He heard a desperate, but weary voice calling out.
“Help! I’m in the water and I can’t climb the pier! H-e-l-p!”
The gendarme, pleased to have the opportunity to display his excellent command of English in an official capacity, called out: “Whare are yew?”
“Here!”, spluttered Grodner. “Over here! Some thugs threw me in the water!”
“Onh Hunh!”, said the gendarme, slyly. “Eet eez not for ze nothings zat I am a policeman for ten years, mon ami! Ah knyow ze treeks of yew illegal immigrance. Now, yew jus’ sweem back to ze raft, ahn yew ahn your frenz paddle off to zum one else’s zhurisdicshon!”
With that, the gendarme continued on his way, rattling the doorknobs on the cafes and shops, proud to have done his job as one of Marseille’s finest in stemming, in a small way, the tide of Le Rif Raf, who were constantly threatening to engulf La Belle France.
El Sid, sent Garry Loogie, about 30 emails last evening…Hey Loogie, if you lurk…Eat shit, bark at the moon you vile asshole.
OH Loogie,
this one is for you, baby. Look familiar?Tim, you will be fine my man. Just keep sucking the drugs out of that tube, then get some in pill form, when ‘they’ kick your ass out…At least if ‘they’ are like our hospitals are.
Had DAY surgery for a hernia ‘bout four years ago…Then some sweet nurse said…“OK, it’s time for you to walk to the bathroom”. I said “walk”???,(still under a buzz) “I can’t even fucking blink”.
paco finally Grodner finding a ladder to get onto a nearby pier he next he met a few nice members of the Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité and when his answers to their questions were not satisfactoire they truncheoned on into the night. Grodner then sought refuge once again in the waters off the pier.
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 10:47 PM • permalink
Anybody noticed that the All Ordinaries Index has come down over 1000 points since Labor got elected?
Posted by Hank Reardon on 2008 01 21 at 11:03 PM • permalink
James Henry Scullin (September 18, 1876 – January 28, 1953), Australian Labor politician and ninth Prime Minister of Australia. Two days after he was sworn in as Prime Minister, the Wall Street Crash of 1929 occurred, marking the beginning of the Great Depression and subsequent Great Depression in Australia.
ASX falls new Labor and Depression. Deja vu all over again?
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 11:04 PM • permalink
Ya gotta love the title on this video: Bill Clinton Has a Dream.
- Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 11:06 PM • permalink
paco he needs the Grodner treatment to wake him up.
Posted by stackja1945 on 2008 01 21 at 11:08 PM • permalink
I hope I’m not stepping on any toes but…
;:;:;:;:“0.0”:;:;:;:;
{{.}}
/ \I call it “Pheonix” and I’ll get back to you on its’ sale price after I’ve consulted with 1.618
Yes YOU HAVE TO SEND $466,987 To tim b so he gets better please. So any art gallery in Canberra please buy so you can hang it in parliament house. ta.
Whoa! The U.S. presidential race has a late entry.
All the best Tim. And to Nadia too.
Paco, if the story you submitted is anything like what you write here, it will be immediately rejected by the leftist, PC first readers of the publishing industry. I’m sure Karl will be pleased to know that Detective Paco is on the job, protecting Tim. Whether or not he will welcome Wronwright’s participation is anohter matter.
Has anyone heard from 1.618? Haven’t seen sign of her lately.
Posted by Michael Lonie on 2008 01 21 at 11:24 PM • permalink
Ah, hello 1.618. I was afraid something had happened to you.
Posted by Michael Lonie on 2008 01 21 at 11:27 PM • permalink
A drop in the ocean, perhaps?
#200: Ah to be sure, lad, to be sure; ‘tis nothing but a flutter against long odds, in the hopes of buyin’ meself a new hat with the winnings.
And now that you mention it, the PCistas might take umbrage, at that. After all, my hero – having finally been relegated to the job of bouncer at the Cairo Club – causes the disaster in the climactic scene while decked out in the togs of an extra-large Mamluk sultan. No doubt, if the story is published, I’ll be hearing from CAIR.
- Posted by Margos Maid on 2008 01 21 at 11:58 PM • permalink
It has totally made my day, to know I have probably ruined Marilyn Shepherd’s.
Crikey printed my letter. Scroll to the bottom.
I am a bit surprised Marilyn has the time to email crikey when there are so many human shield positions available in Israel.
Posted by Margos Maid on 2008 01 22 at 12:26 AM • permalink
Isn’t it considerate of the lefties to take over Tim’s duties while he’s away?
I hope they won’t have to be Tim for too long, though. Get well soon, Real Tim!
Posted by Evil Pundit on 2008 01 22 at 12:50 AM • permalink
- 212, nice! anything that upsets maryloon is a good thing.
Looking at crikey though I saw an article that was cross-posted on the indymedia site as well? Are they scraping the barrel that badly for reporters?Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2008 01 22 at 12:52 AM • permalink
This is what’s going on in Tim’s colon even as we speak! That tumor never knew what hit it…
Posted by richard mcenroe on 2008 01 22 at 01:35 AM • permalink
kae—well, dammit, tell that work colleague to get over there with a laptop, stat!
Posted by richard mcenroe on 2008 01 22 at 01:41 AM • permalink
- Posted by richard mcenroe on 2008 01 22 at 01:43 AM • permalink
- 222. Kae
Exxxxcelent
/steeples fingersPosted by thefrollickingmole on 2008 01 22 at 01:58 AM • permalink
Good show, chaps. Thanks to kae and work colleague…
Posted by Margos Maid on 2008 01 22 at 02:00 AM • permalink
Surely Grimmy, that’s a Staph infection you mean?
The Staff infections you can catch in hospitals do REALLY nasty things with your bits.
Someone oughta do a swab on Nurse Honeybosom, just to be sure.
Posted by lex luthor on 2008 01 22 at 02:57 AM • permalink
Attention: ABC Breach code of conduct
I made this complaint some weeks ago after a Pallywood slur on Jews and Israel appeared on AM. They claimed that “Jews” were getting poor Pals hooked on drugs so they could steal their houses.
The complaint is now going to the ABC Board. Poor David Hardaker can’t seem to respond to the complaint because he is “overseas”. Funnily he is still submitting the same bogus stories from the same location.
Please join me in emailing the board directly.
I hope that news is officially confirmed soon. Sounds good!
Posted by Evil Pundit on 2008 01 22 at 03:48 AM • permalink
240. nice work, Ive got one of my own pending at mediawitch, which I havent heard back from yet.
Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2008 01 22 at 03:52 AM • permalink
The difference between Tim Blair and Zoe Brain is this:
Stomach cancer surgery takes guts.
Male to female surgery takes balls.
Posted by mythusmage on 2008 01 22 at 03:58 AM • permalink
Thank you, kae—wonderful news.
May such tidings continue for you and all.
Meanwhile, darkness reigns at the foot of the lighthouse, and I see my luck has a slender anchorage indeed.
Posted by MentalFloss on 2008 01 22 at 04:40 AM • permalink
![get some]](http://img107.imagevenue.com/view.php?image=06679_ic2_123_749lo.jpg){kind=link}
Take no prisoners, Tim. Best wishes.