Uh-oh!  I thought this commodities boom over here was gonna kick on for ages, perhaps more than a decade.  But Peter Costello reckons it's all downhill from here. 

Bummer.  I was quite looking forward to heading to our rugged, arid north and making megabucks saying, "You want flies with that?"

Many fluffs have been at pains to point out that Sheik Hilaly's cat-meat comments were not representative of Islam as a whole.  A long bow to draw, that one.

And an imam over here in West Australia has chimed in with these rather unfortunate Hilaly-esque comments:

"In democratic countries they are free to dress as they like but you see the assault only happens because the man is provoked sexually or something like that."

If that's not blaming the victim I'm Osama bin Laden. 

This story is more than a few days old, but it's pretty revealing.  It seems that Heather Mills tried to break into journalism by pretending to be an established journo with the same name. 

Shades of Single White Female, eh?  Confirms the argument that she's a total fantasist, I reckon.

I take back what I said about the loveable former mop-top.  Macca is innocent; the Mucca is evil!

Oh dear.  Tempers really are fraying over this Mills-McCartney stoush.

Recently daughter Stella said she wanted to "kill the bitch" and now some Pommie star called Jonathon Ross has called her an "effing liar!".

She really seems to rub people up the wrong way, doesn't she?  What's her secret? 

Upon learning about the creation of a sperm bank for koalas I posted what I thought was a fairly whimsical and humorous take on the event.  Another Aussie blogger saw comic potential of a slightly different hue.

Kind of fascinating -- if a little worrying -- isn't it?

Apparently this is a good time to find a lover.

But ladies, before you grab your hempseeds I urge caution.  You might attract some seriously butt-fugly suitors, not unlike these fellas.  (Still, if you can get beyond exteriors you'll see they do all possess an inner glow.) 

Hot on the heels of South Park, Bill Maher plays Steve Irwin's death for laughs at a Halloween party.

I reckon there might be a similar celebrity-death costume next year:  It'll include a Bill Maher-mask with a hunting knife sticking out of his left eyeball -- to represent Maher's gruesome murder by an enraged Steve Irwin fan. 

I read a story about Whitney Houston's descent into drug hell not so long ago.  The story included photos and she didn't look like she was going to last very long at all.  It really was one of the most depressing things I'd seen in a long time.  She used to be so beautiful and talented.   

Amazingly, she's pulled herself out of that terrible situation.  Let's hope it's a permanent state. 

The plot thickens ...

Now the ex-hubby of Heather Mills has come out of the woodwork to defend Paul McCartney, claiming that Heather Mills was violent during their marriage.

This wouldn't surprise me.  She does seem to have a hardness about her. 

Still, the possibility that Mills may have been physically aggressive doesn't necessarily mean that McCartney wasn't.  People are strange, complex and -- most of all -- contradictory.

Yep, contradictory as.   

Gawd.  Some brain-dead celeb called Axle Whitehead has whopped it out and waved it around at the ARIAS.

Well, at least he didn't turkey slap anyone ...

Everyone is familiar with the "alien abduction" phenomenon.  I've always thought it was a mass psychosis afflicting people with severe sexual hangups.  You know, sad sacks desperately wanting to get their rocks off, but so ashamed of this that they had to imagine being coerced into it by extra-terrestrials.

This article contains a far more plausible theory: the aliens are making blue movies to send back across the galaxy.

Makes sense to me!

Apparently blokes who use mobile phones more than four hours a day have significantly lower sperm counts than less avid users.  It's to do with radiation, apparently.

This proves what many have long suspected about cell junkies:  They're real dick-heads!

Another case of pompous pro-ferndie posturin g from a celeb.  This time it's Thom Yorke of Radiohead:

Speaking as part of a campaign by Friends of the Earth, Yorke said: "Some of our best ever shows have been in the US, but there's 80,000 people there and they've all been sitting in traffic jams for five or six hours with their engines running to get there, which is bollocks."

It may be presumptious to speak on behalf of da cute wittle cweatures he purports to consider here.  But I'd say that when he and his band are playing outdoors, they're more worried about the bloody sound pollution.

Wanker.   

Just found a rather quaint description: "shy bladder".  It's used to describe the inability of someone to urinate in public.

I wonder if porn stars ever have their careers cut short by a condition called "pouting penis"?