Posts by Michael Savidge
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I remember The Dance Exponents ( a clue to my age there) played at my high school for a lunchtime gig. The band rocked and wouldn't stop playing and when they went overtime the principal pulled the plug on them.
Jordan went OFF at the guy in such a tirade of relentless profanity that we all just stood there dumbstruck - a new hero was born.
Afterwards we couldn't stop talking about his energy and dedication to the cause. It's a fine thing that he has been honoured by his peers in this way.
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You know what they say about men with big hands?
Look how small the pen is.
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I fell for your Justin Marshall impression....step back to screen at your leisure.
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Point of history, no hardcore surfer ever bleached, the sun just did it anyway
Yes Merc, that was my point...yours is?
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Marshall was, is and is likely to always be, a blowhard.
He fails to understand that most All Black fans (and most Kiwis for that matter) don't warm to people who talk themselves up or whinge when the tide turns.
And I for one have an innate mistrust of blokes who bleach their hair blonde...being a hardcore surfer is the only way to achieve that look with integrity.
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In regard to that sentiment Jackie, I've noticed how over the past decade or so it's become more and more fashionable to admit to misanthropic tendencies. I'm as guilty as anyone.
Which IMHO perhaps helps explain some of the social and class divides that have fractured communities and isolated individuals - particularly in Western and Westernised countries.
However it might pay to remember, and point out to others, that misanthropy is at heart an exercise in self-loathing.
Find a way to feel better about yourself and other people stop looking quite so ugly and stupid. Or put another way, accept your shortcomings and forgiving others theirs tends to follow.
Still, there's always culling.
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My most vivid ending began with a trip to the airport. I was lying on the floor in the back of the car, a blanket thrown over me. I remember the smell of dog and petrol on the blanket, and the sensation of speed.
I was not as frightened as I probably should have been, no doubt thrilled to the hear the barely contained fear in my mothers voice. She had caused my family much heartache recently, had been caught having an affair and talked of leaving us all.
But that's another story, the beginning of another ending. I was only 10 years old and had many endings to come.
"Keep your head down, keep your hair covered, everything's going to be ok".
Later I found out it was because I was blonde and, on that day, in that year, in that place, blonde was not a good thing to be.
We were racing through the streets of Iran's capital, Tehran, fleeing the Islamic Revolution.
There had been sporadic gunfire in the streets every night for the past week or so and my father, who had brought us here on a work exchange program with Kodak, had been ordered by his bosses (who, in turn, had been ordered to evacuate all Western staff by the US govt) to take his family to the Sheraton hotel near the airport.
When we arrived at the hotel I was feeling sick from the smell of the blanket and the rough ride in the car. US marines with machine guns (machine guns! wait till the kids at home hear this!) herded us to rooms on the tenth floor. I promptly made friends with an Old-English sheepdog called Basil, and we went exploring the corridors and empty rooms.
The grown-ups had a party and got drunk that night, and my parents fought viciously, but I was stoked because I got to order room service for the first time. I had either a cheese omelet or spaghetti bolognese - pretty much all I ate while we were there.
The US govt was trying to convince the Ayatollah to let us leave. Finally after four days (enough time to become wickedly expert at table tennis) we were given two hours notice and, under military escort, were taken to the airport and aboard a Pan Am 747. The stewardesses were really nice and let me go up to the cockpit and gave me half a dozen badges to give to my friends when I got home.
I still have one.
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I got to sleep with his young wife
Ewww....that's the kind of thing best kept to oneself, as in too much information!
Forever tainted by Rai Hai...
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TV highlight of the week for me has been the wickedly profane Drawn Together on Prime at 10-30.
Whats not to like about a show that includes the Labia song and God sampling the goodies in a glory hole?
Very funny and well-observed and who would have thunk that Adam Corolla (the man behind The Man Show) had it in him?
A must-see from this reviewer - two stinky thumbs up!
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it was primarily an opportunity to describe myself as a pendant again.
Now look, I resisted the first time but cannae again.
Of course you may be just phishing for true pedants and, if so, I'm busted.