September 8, 2010
The Opening Monologue – Wednesday the 8th of September 2010
Written by Vittorio Leonardi.
This week has shown me just how dependant I am on machines. For the fourth time, I had to re-install Windows on my pc. It seems that the operating system knows when my machine needs an upgrade of some sort because the resurrection of Windows goes hand-in-hand with the buying of something shiny and new for the pc’s innards. And it is at times like these that I remember how heavily machines are depended upon to run nearly everything.
We’re dependant on Google to know all the questions we haven’t thought to ask yet.
We hope the Machine Gods that control the fax machine demons will let that last important fax go through.
We all hope that, on the day of the big presentation, the copier doesn’t orgasm toner all over your pretty graphs.
And, let’s face it; we all hope that the security systems on our homes will work when we most need them.
It’s for that reason that I have genuinely tried – albeit unsuccessfully – to get away from the machines when I can. Go for a walk outside, breath the air, look at the sky… you know… hippy stuff. And it helps. It clears my mind just long enough to give me the perspective and objectivity I need to comment on the ever lengthening procession of odd meatsacks that I feel the need to comment on every week.
So… let’s see who’s first in line today.
“Vuvuzelas? We ain’t got no Vuvuzelas. We don’t need no Vuvuzelas. I don’t have to blow on any stinking Vuvuzelas!”
Yes, it would seem that Europe and the UK have spoken. They have banned the vuvuzela at all football events in Europe and at the upcoming Olympics in London. One of the reasons given is that though the vuvuzela added local flavour to the SA World Cup experience, it’s just not a European thing.
They went on to say that the European football “consists of the two-way exchange of emotions between the pitch and the stands, where the public can transmit a full range of feelings to the players.
However, UEFA is of the view that the vuvuzelas would completely change the atmosphere, drowning supporter emotions and detracting from the experience of the game.”
So they’re going to go with the traditional, singing, cheering and chanting instead. As we all know, nothing makes football better than some lovely lads chanting,
“You’re gonna get f***ing head kicked in!”
Closer to home, the US Consulate has put a five-star Cape Town Hotel on its blacklist. The Westin Grand was placed on the blacklist after the US Consulate received “multiple theft reports” regarding the shiny monument to over-pricing. The Consulate then directed all US government employees and contractors not to stay there until further notice.
Prices for a single room at the Westin Grand range from R1900 to R4900 a night. But they do throw in breakfast… at high speed with an air of hoity-toity superiority. Has anyone considered that “theft” might be code for “paying the bill”?
A Berlin “cannibal” restaurant advertising for diners to “donate body parts” and an “open-minded surgeon”, has been revealed to be a hoax by The German Vegetarian Society or Vebu. They pulled the stunt to highlight consumers’ attention to “the evils of meat-eating.” said Sebastian Zosch, a Vebu spokesman.
He also mentioned that livestock farming produces massive amounts of greenhouse gases and that becoming a vegetarian would drastically cut water usage worldwide.
However, the message seemed to have fallen on hungry deaf ears. Unconfirmed reports say that the messages were drowned out by the activists own screams when frustrated patrons devoured the whiny-veggie-maggot people.
“Try the leg of Zosch,” said one blood-slathered customer, “It’s been marinating in its own juices for years”
So, we’ve all seen Bear Grylls running about on Discovery Channel, drinking his fluids to stay alive. But would you consider drinking some else’s piss to get… well, pissed?
Now usually you have to pay extra for that kind of action but one James Gilpin has decided to take the urine of old folks and use it to create Gilpin Family Whisky. The product, which Gilpin admits is more of an art piece than a commercial venture, will be bottled with the name and age of the contributor emblazoned on it. That’s one way to be immortalized. “Quit hogging grand pa you greedy bastard! I want a taste of him too!!”
And staying with booze, a Texan man has invented deep-fried beer. Made of pretzel dough with a beer-filed pocket in the centre, it’s as close to beer ravioli as you’ll ever get. Mark Zable, the inventor will be exhibiting his grand design at a deep-friend food contest to be held at the Texas State Fair. And it doesn’t lose any alcohol content in the manufacturing process so all those roid-raged bodybuilders out there can finally fulfil their dream of carbo-loading and getting wasted at the same time. Well yeehaw. Now call in the airstrike. We don’t need these people breeding.
Sometimes, you’re just a douche bag with time on your hands. This was proven when a man was arrested on the end of the runway, at Paris Orly Airport. He was using a laser to blind pilots coming in to land. Unconfirmed reports say that when asked why he was doing it, he said he wanted to ensure that it was indeed their final approach.
Another airline story finds an old lady learning a valuable lesson: Tea is hot, don’t try wearing it. A British plane en route to Poland made an emergency landing after a 56-year old woman scalded herself when she spilled her tea. So, they landed the plane, treated her wound, and then took off. The lady took the train instead. Apparently the train serves its tea in sippy cups.
Pussy saves a town! Several actually. The town of Houtong, Taiwan, has experienced a boon in tourism as people come from far and wide to pet the calico-coloured cats that roam free in the streets.
Coincidentally, there is no Chinese take-away with-in 40 miles of the town.
And elsewhere is the world we find the Iranian Doctor Dolittle. Amir Rahbari, a professional animal trainer, lives in his 20 metre square apartment with his crocodile, three snakes, an eagle and a miniature monkey – for ease of storage, I’m guessing. He describes them as his children, his family. Date night must be fun. Amir has worked on several film and claims he can cure any actor or actress of an animal phobia in 30 minutes. I’ll bet, it’s the monkey or the croc, your call buddy.
Education is a key stepping stone in life. So naturally, when you’re attending a new primary school, you’ll need a new pen. One that projects porn… Wait, what?
Children attending the Adolf Reichwein School in Berlin were given traditional gift cones on their first day. The cones contained new pens that, when activated, projected erotic images of women.
Giving fap fodder to six-year olds, school’s changed since I was a lad. The pens were a gift from the German Communist Party. And they say Communists have no sense of humour. They claim that the pens were bought at a discount store. Mmm, cheap and sleazy, a double-whammy of delight. You guys definitely are with the government.
And finally… while some people flush their money down the toilet, others simply buy the toilet. A poo throne that once belonged to John Lennon, has gone for £9500 at the Beatles week festival auction, held in Liverpool.
The Beatle bog was originally removed from Lennon’s Berkshire flat after John boy moved out in 1971. It then sat unshat in a builder’s shed for 40 years till the builder expired. The defecation saddle was then sent to the auction. The buyer of the porcelain pooping stool, was not identified. I guess because you don’t really get girls by saying, “I just bought a famous man’s shitter, wanna see it?”
This concludes this week’s edition of The Opening Monologue. See you next week and remember, you haven’t heard it all till you’ve heard The Last Say On Sunday.