An exclusive peek at the Australian Cabinet's special new office building... and The Magpie introduces his new periodic award, The Cyclone Yasi Memorial Goblet for services to tourism in Townsville.

The ‘Pie names the first recipient of this prestigious gong.

On the national scene, its all been about cabinet quotas and punted pundits … The ‘Pie sticks his beak in.

And it’s been another week of the language being mugged and  ambushed repeatedly just about everywhere. Euphemism has reigned as king. But there’s also some fun to be had with some of the tasty morsels the old bird has been dining on.

There’s even a limerick challenge, if you’re up to it, here in the nest at www.townsvillemagpie.com.au

Crikey.com has called it a 'cock forest' because of its lack of women. And just to rub it in, here’s an exclusive ‘reveal’ about our new government’s Cabinet offices  … it is to get a new building of its own. You won’t be able to miss it.

 

Viagra House?

Prime Minister Rabbit has wasted no time in clearing the decks and making his agenda clear. The lack of a Science Minister has been cause for comment, but there'll be no lack of free learned advice on that front ... Alan Jones and Ray Hadley will help out. But an allied move has been applauded in numerous places, not the least of which is the Bentley household.

The Magpie chats up an escaped budgie.

Pickering got in his lick as well.

The lack of women in Wingnut’s cabinet has been causing some angst among the chattering classes , but at least the odious Sophie Misery Guts Mirabella won’t be there.

Anyway, The ‘Pie believes when it comes to leading and guiding our country, you determine cabinet members by what’s between their ears, not what’s between their legs. Unfortunately, schoolboy snot Christopher Pyne and the disaster-prone Kevin  Andrews (Mike Carlton calls him The Brylcreemed Dolt) are the glaring exceptions to The ‘Pie’s theory.

On the other side of the divide, people with diabetes should avoid watching any appearances by Bill Shorten and Anthony Albanese together … the sugar overload could be fatal. Their rolling love-in repeatedly invites an involuntary finger down the throat. The ‘Pie’s prediction: ‘Albo’ in a canter, and it'll serve that treacherous serial clitorist Shorten right. Hopefully it also means the new Labor leader will learn to correctly pronounce the name of the country he hopes one day to lead. Here’s a hint, Albo … it IS NOT Orstraya. 

But that is but a mere peccadillo next to caning English has copped elsewhere during the week.

From America, the senseless brutality of the mass killing in Washington was consigned to a technical detail when the head walloper – a hatchet-faced FBI Dickless Tracy -  announced her boys had had ‘ multiple engagements with the suspect who was ultimately deceased.’ (Read: shot the mad bastard until he was dead.’)

Cowboys boss Peter Jourdain.

And closer to home, Cowboys boss Peter Jourdain was asked if the NRL chiefs had apologized for the refereeing cock-up that cost his team a place in the Rugby League finals. Apparently you don’t either apologise or take responsibility nowadays – Pete said the NRL had ‘taken ownership’ of the situation. And they were ‘remorseful’: read ‘shitting bricks’ about possible repercussions.

The moaning has been long and loud, with the Daily Astonisher leading and feeding the parochial victim mentality and boostering ludicrous ‘conspiracy’ theories.

The paper had one of its biggest sales days for years last Monday, as justified community anger and disappointment bubbled over in various loony forms. And if the Astonisher knows anything, it certainly knows how to flog a yarn within an inch of its life, whether it be the Stuart school closure, turning criminals into heroes, innumerate footy referees or super stadiums.

And their efforts should not go unrecognized, so the Townsville Daily Astonisher is the very first recipient of the Cyclone Yasi Memorial Goblet for services to Townsville tourism for this double page pic last Tuesday.

This inviting image - replete with eyebrow and ear piercings, servo-bandit beanie, blue singlet and the inevitable tats - belongs to Mr Wayne ‘Mad Dog’ Evans. 

Now no doubt Mr Evans is a lovely chap underneath it all, who as G & S would have it ‘loves to hear the little brook agurgling’ while seated in the shade of a sycamore tree reading the works of the Persian polymath, philosopher mathematician, astronomer and poet Omar Khayyam. A jug of wine perchance at his elbow – possibly Fruity Lexia.

But his appearance so prominently in the paper on the ‘once in a century’ event of The Astonisher being read right up and down the east coast, prompted a tsunami of honking, chortling and ribaldry down the MagpeFone from snooty southern climes. More than one caller made reference to what happens when cousins marry, another wanted to know how well Mr Evans played the banjo, and yet another politely inquired if he was our mayor. That caller was disappointed when he learnt that he was not, but was soothed with The Magpie’s suggestion that his disappointment would be even greater if he knew who actually was our mayor.

One can imagine the frenzied calls to travel agents seeking to book a flight north to mingle with this typical denizen of the Deep North. So well done, Townsville Bulletin, you get the Cyclone Yasi Memorial Goblet for positive profiling services to Townsville tourism.

Mind you, this Astonisher poster from a year or two ago, sent in by a collector of such things, seemed to hint at the ultimate adventure holiday.

Sounds tricky, and we're not sure who was lucky to survive, the fish or the female.

One joker thinks it all ended happily for everyone.

But the NRL kerfuffle threw up some other interesting sideshows. The battiest stretch by a floundering man seeking some sort of relevance in all this came from the head honcho of the Dudley Do-Nothings, Townsville Enterprise’s David The Kipper’ Kippin.

As ABC Radio’s Paula The Mauler Tapiloas trawled around on Monday morning seeking comment on the Cowboy’s issue, she, for reasons known only to herself, asked an irrelevant Kipper for his thoughts.

The Kipper

After a pause and then a bit of hesitant waffle, The Kipper suddenly came up with the original idea that this was somehow the ideal opportunity to push for the new super stadium, and make sure the NRL pitched in behind the project.  

Suggesting a punishment for their diabolical handling of what (inevitably) has been called Tacklegate, The Kipper honked on about how the NRL should now use its influence to lobby Prime Minister Wingnut and Queensland Premier The Brisbane Bantam to help secure funding for the super stadium.

Quoth he: ‘All we need is NRL CEO Dave Smith to do is pick up the phone and start making calls to the right politicians. It’s an advocacy and lobbying role the NRL could do so well….’. 

See, it’s just as simple as picking up the old dog’n’bone, then Robert is your mother’s brother, there ya go, done and dusted.

So let’s see now, an organization – the NRL – which has proved so incompetent it couldn’t track a leaky shit cart through a flour factory, will command the respect of our leaders (especially Queenslander Campbell Newman) and just like that, talk them into opening the public wallet and say ‘help yourself’.  Just how you link a massive cock-up with skills of influence and ‘advocacy’ is a tad weird, to say the least, especially coming from you, David.

Kipper, old mate, watching your meandering search for public relevance to justify your outrageous ratepayer-funded salary reminds The Pie of the eunuch in the harem …  he knows what happens, he sees it happen around him all day and night, but he just can’t do it himself. But no doubt Dave Smith appreciates the advice.

Words can be torturous, but they can also be tortuous, and those twists and turns are a joy to those who enjoy the vagaries of language.

Both you regular readers will know that The Magpie’s nest is cluttered with many and diverse little shiny objects that have caught the avian eye. So here’s a random gallery of such baubles

The hairdressing industry in notorious for its punning names … a check showed at least a score of Curl Up and Dyes around the world and some titles are a touch tedious and try too hard.  But a couple of news ones (at least new to The ‘Pie) surfaced this week. Over in Dallas, there is The Best Little Hairhouse In Texas. But The ‘Pie admits to a loud bellylaugh when he found the hairdressing business in rural England called Crops and Bobbers.

Other matters.

Wonder if anyone has fallen for this?

And the whimsy of this is cute.

Book titles, as have often been mentioned before, can be a delight, but you can bet there was many a disappointed punter down on Sydney's Oxford Street who misunderstood the content of this one.

Here is a bus shelter ad from Melbourne, extolling the virtues of a uni degree.

The double degree presumably means you will have learnt the difference between ‘then’ and ‘than’. But then again, it might be aimed at New Zealanders.

The Washington Post runs a strong literary section in the paper and  it regularly features word game challenges to readers. Recently, they called for the best limerick which included both the words Lewinsky ....

Monica Lewinsky

 .... as in Monica, the famous player of the Clinton clarinet, and Kaczynski, 

Ted Kayzcynski.

... as in Ted, the infamous Unibomber.

The following are the winners.

Third place:

There once was a girl named Lewinsky,

Who played on a flute like Stravinsky.

'Twas ‘Hail to the Chief’,

On this flute made of beef,

That stole the front page from Kaczynski.

Second place:

Said Clinton to young Ms. Lewinsky,

"We don’t want to leave clues like Kaczynski.

Since you made such a mess,

Use the hem of your dress,

And please wipe that stuff off your chinsky."

And the winning entry:

Lewinsky and Clinton have shown

What Kaczynski must surely have known,

That an intern is better

Than a bomb in a letter,

When deciding how best to be blown.

It is with great trepidation that The ‘Pie suggests a similar, localized literary effort. Anyone game to have a bit of fun with Mayor Mullet, Uncle Fester, His Radiance, Capt Snooze, The Parsnip, Typo, Attila The Hen, Mad Katter or any of the other luminaries which people this blog? Plenty of rhymes in there, for instance, guess what rhymes with Messagebank.

Be interesting to see how many make it through to the light of day. Might be a prize in it.

Speaking of prizes, it is now away to Poseurs’ Bar, to discuss with a suitable companion the various interpretations of  ‘multiple engagements’  and that there shouldn’t be room for being ‘remorseful’ after taking ownership of the mattress … errr, sorry … matter.