March 15, 2006

# 64





Since I'm no longer armed with a personal assistant, here's a brief rundown of what transpired yesterday. As confusing as this may sound, the geese did retreat after much staring.


I: You're watching Good Morning, Heather. My name is Andy Kaufman. And now it's time for the weather forecast. Good Morning, Hank. How's the weather likely to treat us today?

Hank: Well, Andy, it's a testicle solidifying mess out there today and I'm not 100% sure how she'll treat us today, to tell you the truth. Perhaps there'll be the occasional slap and the prolonged tickling you seem to endure with pleasurable facial contortions. Sure, the sun's shining with more venom than a cobra fuelled by angry pills, but that's little more than a red herring in the ointment. You see, the cold front, which has battered the east coast of the Russian federation of former one-eyed Communists and feminine gymnasts with more bench pressing prowess than you, has finally reached these shores. And what are we doing about it? I'll tell you what we're doing about it: Boo-hoo. It's really cold. I want my mommy, that's what we're doing about it. Presently, it's unleashing a batch of the coldest air likely to traverse through those action-packed nostrils you seem to flare without fear of diminishing your standing in the culturally elite. Is that for the black viewers or just a stoic front for the anti-hygiene faction? Either way, Andy, it ain't having the desired effect, you moron. PS the cold front doesn't look like fucking off anytime soon.

I: Bugger.

Hank: My thoughts exactly, Andy. Kudos on the plagiarism front. May your spawn be of inconsequential height to the rest of society's butterball dumplings.

I: What?

Hank: Your unborn children, Andy; may your seed be tall in mischief, long in short sightedness and short in the crotch for you are a man truly lacking original thought. Am I wrong? Well, am I? By the way, are those ankle freezers doing it for you. Well, are they?

I: Get fucked, Hank.

Hank: And the correct answer is... Let me check my pockets. Oh, here it is! 'Fuck off, Hank.' Ladies and gentlemen, it's close enough to the answer we were looking for. Come on down Mr Originality, Andeeeeeeeee Kaufffffffman! Andy, just look at your outstanding prize, you fat fuck.

I: Just do the weather, Hank, all right?

Hank: I don't think so.

I: Why the hell not?

Hank: Because it's your turn.

I: For what?

Hank: To stand in front of a green screen pointing at imaginary shit that the dickheads upstairs will inevitably fuck up because they're incapable of counting the five digits on their overfed hands in sequential order. You come and talk out of your arse for two minutes each day about information you couldn't conceivably ever actually know. You style your hair like a chimp from the '70s, given a day pass for a trip to the city... Oh, you're already doing that, I see.

I: Are you going to do the weather or not, Hank?

Hank: Are you going to blow me?

I: Un-bloody-likely!

Hank: There's your answer then, brainiac. Fuck all you assholes if you blame me for not predicting the snow. And fuck you, Dear Viewer, for being the retarded knuckle-scraping cement headed fucks for planning your day around what I say. Fuck all, y'all!

I: Umm...

Heather: Umm... Good morning, Andy!

I: ...Good morning, Heather. Which wonderful breakfast can we expect from you today?

Heather: Well, seeing as it's a special day, with unprecedented snow falling on the fourteenth day of March, I'll be showing our viewers how to make toast.

I: Sensational!

I swear on the life and times of whichever god you happen to believe in that everything here is true and accurate in every detail. And the geese haven't been back. Yet.






7 comments:

Old Man Morri said...

Nikki webster's a rude word? whoa, excellent ... i think youv'e been influenced a bit too much by cartoons, or cults, which would partly justify that swearing.

Thought of having a 'chaser cnnnn' style blog? hey that's a good idea! who wants to join my news network? Andy can produce it, and do the weather, I'll be a reporter, Tim can do the sport and high society stuff, ultra toast can do the bands, drugs and stuff for the kids at the end.

just a thought.

benjibopper said...

The wife and I have been talking about getting a personal assistant for some time now. Everytime we have an idea (we seem to get a lot of them for some reason - must be the winter air) we say, "PA, write that down." But then we just get followed around by a bunch of baby boomer men with pen sets. And I still haven't seen Hotel Rwanda.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

I'm in.

I'll try and combine the drugs stuff/bands/kids segment all in the same snappy feelgood montage that the networks love to toss in last to block out the previous 28 minutes of death and glory we get every night on the news.

Now, where's Pete Doherty?

Kaufman said...

Morri: Swearing is part of my subbaculture.

I'm in. Apart from the weather predictions. You can fry them and stick 'em. Tim's not cut out for the sports side of things either as he's mostly reliant on having the high society goss and music info down before nodding off, so I'll take that, ah thank you.

Benji: I never allow anyone to follow me, which is why I mostly walk backwards.

UTMG: Who is Pete Doherty? Any relation to Jason Donovan?

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Pete Doherty: Former 'Libertines' co-frontman and wannabee Sid Vicious.

Sacked by other co-leader Carl Barat for being smacked out of his crack tree all the time.

Formed Babyshambles. Bring on more Smack!

Dated Kate Moss. She gets busted for drug offences. They split.

He splits.

As for being related to Donovan, who knows? They are probably as talented as each other.

Kaufman said...

Yeah, that's what I thought: don't know him; never will.

He sounds like the proverbial rock cliche (a.k.a. wanker).

I've always associated Kate Moss with venereal disease. She just has that venereal disease spreading look about her.

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Yeah, he's a real piece of work.

Moss? She has got that pox riddled look about her.

She's still pretty, but not that pretty. I'm amazed she's still got it. (not venereal disease.)

On an unrelated matter, I saw the opening ceremony for the commonwealth games last night.

Ron Barassi walking on water. I knew he was good, but sweet jesus, I never knew he was THAT good!