I have had a lot of strange search terms used to find my blog in the past (some previous ones can be found here), but I am still surprised by what people are searching for.
For some reason one of the most prolific search types involves rugby players and their possible partners. More often than not the player comes from
byron kelleher ex pornstar wife (yes, I know he doesn’t play for
I daren’t ask what this last poor soul was thinking.
I get searches like these regularly, don’t ask me why. But perhaps we can learn from this. The NZRU clearly has to release a calendar or soft porn video. They would make millions (or at least thousands). Perhaps Byron’s wife could direct the film as she already understands the industry. A discussion about Ma’a Nonu at the lunch table a few weeks ago suggests that this is a sure money spinner for the Rugby Union, money that they can re-invest into the provinces…hahahahaha! Sorry meant invest back into
Speaking of rugby, what has been the most exciting part of this season’s NPC? Anton Oliver. Fuck the actual games! They have been boring as piss (the exception being Southland).
Anton Oliver’s revelations of an All Black drinking culture weren’t shocking as much as they were damning of the previous coaching and management of our national team. We all knew that lads on tour get up to no good. Sometimes no good was really no good, remember the scandal with the
This just in Aardman Animation studio has burned down, seriously. The studio where the new movie Curse of the Were-Rabbit and all the other Aardman Animation shorts were made has been destroyed. But they made a shit-load of money on the weekend so it’s easy come easy go I suppose.
Here is a brilliant open letter to the makers of the Bond films that breaks it down as to how a real Bond film should be made
Just because Brosnan has reduced the role to quippy one-liners, making out with beautiful women, outrunning fireballs and looking good in a suit doesn't make that some alpha male thespian wouldn't want to play Ian Fleming's Bond, the compulsive gambler, consummate gourmand and justifiably paranoid spy, a man equipped with both psychological and physical scars. While that character hasn't appeared in any of the past dozen movies, he's right there on the pages of "Casino Royale" -- you know, that book you're supposed to be adapting?
It has been a long time since Bond did anything other than order his martinis "shaken, not stirred." How dull for him. In "Casino Royale," he requests a different drink, desiring, "A dry martini, in a deep champagne goblet -- Three measures of Gordons, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice cold, then add a thin slice of lemon peel."
That sounds good actually I might have to memorise it for my next Saturday night cocktail ramble.