Author: O Zangado

Diane Sawyer is a very fine lady
Reading out the newscasts on the ABC.
That ain’t working that’s the way to do it
Read the autocue and get your juice for free.
Now that ain’t workin’ that’s the way you do it
Lemme tell you that blonde ain’t dumb.
Maybe needs a little bit of help though
To stop her falling down on her bum.

Continue reading “Juice (allegedly). November Pome”

Not only is the Dark Side the main reason why I post my rants on The Chariot, but now the DT wants money from me to view their grammatically inaccurate and increasingly liberal unfocussed ramblings online.

So, after more than half a century, it’s bye bye DT.    When you pay Boadicea and Bearsy several shedloads of money to run your site as well as this site is then, maybe, just maybe, I’ll put up the occasional post or two.

OZ

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon.  I have one eye on the Indian GP while cooking dinner for the NSW, so why, you may ponder, would a chap have a frying pan and a pot with holes in them?

A clue – 11th November.

OZ

Malta, GC. Continue reading “Malta GC”

DISCLAIMER.  I shall qualify the following by saying that I have the utmost respect for all the athletes (bar one or two) who get up at OFFS o’clock to put in another interminable stint of training on the track or jumps, in the pool or gym and then set records or personal best times, heights or distances in their events, winning a medal or not.

I have the utmost respect for our Armed Forces who stepped in at short notice to cover the security of athletes and spectators alike. I also have the utmost respect for the 70,000 unpaid volunteers who made the whole thing tick and the seven million spectators who paid good money for tickets to support their teams.

All the above deserved better than be tainted by the Gallery of Shame to come. You all know by now that my fur rests for the most part in ‘standby’ mode on a very short fuse, rising in clumps of hackle when things irritate me until I succumb to yet another full-blown frizzy fur attack. So, in dumbest celebrity TV countdown fashion and with all statutory Mackie-esque warnings about subjectivity, flash photography and the need to wear a hard hat, here are the top 20 things that did it for me.

Continue reading “On the Olympic stramash, apparently”

The Olympics are an issue
On which we can’t agree.
I make no bones about it
And no apology.
Continue reading “Olympic rant (for Mr. Mackie)”

I thank cherished colleagues for their erudite and witty responses to the pome comp.  I had hoped to make the judging, ahem, swift, but have rather been overtaken by events. Anyhow, here goes in order of publication:-

Continue reading “New Pome Comp – RESULTS”

I don’t normally pass on stuff, but this one, courtesy of Cheech over on the Dark Side, tickled me.

AWWW

Good for her and a Happy Sunday to my cherished reader.

OZ

The poetry comp closes one week today. linkey thingy

There is only one entry so far and that is from Backside. Ethel is not best pleased and is tapping her foot as she was looking forward to reading lots of contributions. Miss the deadline at your peril. You have been warned and I take no responsibility for any subsequent knock on your door.

OZ

Much as I like to see the Wolf avatar in all its glory on the front page, one problem about winning a comp is the duty of setting the next.

There I was, sittimg idly on the terrace, consuming a piece of boar fresh off the barbie with a green salad and a glass of Cave Country wondering what should be the subject of the next competition. Then, out of a clear blue sky, a flock of migratory swifts appeared, diving down in Dambuster fashion to grab a drink from the pool and flying unashanedly within the pillars of the terrace.

So, I thought, SWIFT, noun or adjective, any form from limerick to plain verse to iambic pentameter. All entries to be in by midnight GMT, 15th July, the anniversary of my whelping.

Plase leave any entries here.

OZ