Flimsy fashionistas: beasts, or what?

The Age today reports on what brand-obsessed retards can expect to see at Melbourne Spring Fashion Week.

The heading: A taste of what will be in fashion



The answer, if this accompanying pic is any guide? Bones. Bones, and lotsa ugly. Lashings of it.

Blowhard actor's grim climate forecast

She came, she lectured, she fucked off back to Tinseltown.

Cate Blanchett took a few days from her hectic schedule of Hollywood parties and highly paid dress-ups to hector Australia's two major parties to do a better job of confronting the issue of climate change.

And good luck to her. She's just as qualified as I am to lecture on the scientific evidence that the climate might be changing because of pollution spewed out in the course of daily Western-style indulgence.

The problem is, she's just as qualified as I am to lecture on the scientific evidence that the climate might be changing because of pollution spewed out in the course of daily Western-style indulgence.

Who is Cate Blanchett to swing by Australia, pumping a couple of tonnes of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere as she wings her way across the Pacific from a nation unfathomably more wasteful that our own, to lecture Australia's politicians on how to tackle the complexities of climate change?

No-one.

Fuck off back to your sprawling LA mansion, Cate, and take the horse you rode in on with you.

Give us a Hinch and he'll attract the vile - with hilarious results

His reputation took a battering when he dubiously claimed televisual icon and closet man-lover Graham Kennedy died of complications caused by AIDS, and when he later declared motor racing legend Peter Brock to be a wifebeater within days of the nine-time Bathurst 1000 winner's death last year.

And that was after he earned the scorn and derision of his 3AW colleagues for quite correctly revealing that sports announcer and Victorian cricket coach David Hookes was seeing another woman when a bouncer fatally punched him outside a Melbourne pub.

This somewhat embarrassed all his broadcast mates, who had painted Hookes as an innocent family man of great virtue who was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But Hinch has a special placce in my heart for sprays like this against gangster's moll Wendy Peirce.

She now admits she provided a false alibi for her late hubby, Victor, who was found innocent with three others over the ambush murder police constables Steven Tynan and Damien Eyre in the Melbourne suburb of South Yarra in 1988.

Peirce himself got his just desserts in 2002 when he was shot in his car in Bay Street Port Melbourne, reportedly by Andrew Veniamin, who himself died on the wrong end of Mick Gatto's revolver (in an act of self defence, thanks lawyers) at a Carlton restaurant less than two years later.

But it was revealed at the weekend that Victor and Wendy's four kids have received crime victims compensation for his murder.

This, for the children of a bloke who Wendy Peirce now admits killed Tynan and Eyre, was a major player in the gangland war and peddled drugs around murder for decades as part of the infamous Pettingill clan.

Derryn launched into a typically tough editorial on his AW show today condemning the compensation cheque for the Peirce kids, then intervuiewed Victoria's Shadow Attorney-General on the matter when, at 5.35 or so into the recording, Wendy Peirce phoned in to defend herself.

The result is radio gold. As Molly Meldrum might say, "Do yourself a favour and ... arrrhhh ... check it out".

Priest Kickout video: kick him out now

Yes, the skaters baited Monsignor Geoff Baron of Melbourne's St Patrick's Cathedral into his now infamous, foul-mouthed outburst.

Yes, they trapped him by filming it.

Yes, they enraged him.

I'mm not even that worried about the torrent of swearing from the monsignor.

But there's no way anyone can justify the racist, sexualised and homophobic comments made by this so-called man of the cloth, one of Melbourne's most senior religious leaders.

And believe me, plenty have tried to smooth it over this week.

Archbishop Denis "Have A" Hart of the Melbourne Catholic Archdiocese has done the right thing by going all Shiekh Hilaly on Varon's arse and putting him on indefinite leave.

But he needs to go- one step further and sack him, for the good of the church.

Then he should turn a blind eye and let Baron do his worst to the little skating maggots that caused the furore in the first place.

My spider senses tell me this is pretty fucked up

This sheep would be the ideal poster boy opposing the gentle art of genetioc engineering, but sadly he's a natural creation.

New Zealand sheep Jake the Peg (dee-da-dee-da-la-da-dum ... with three extra legs ... dee-da-dee-da-la-da-dum), has a number of things to worry about, apart his over-abundance of limbs - one with two hoofs.

In fact, he's not really male at all, but was born a hermaphrodite. And he's missing a part of his bowel, which prevents him from excreting - and means he'll have to be destroyed.

Veterinarian Steve Williams at the Canterbury Vets clinic in the rural town of Methven said he believed he believed an error during embryo formation, which happens once in several million sheep, resulted in the extra limbs, AP reported.

The six-day-old lamb was born last Friday on the farm of Dave and Di Callaghan.

Mr Callaghan said he had found seven-legged creature, born with a normal twin, walking round in the paddock with its mother.

"I have never seen anything like that," he said according to AP.

Well, Dave, it's a good thing you kept the poor creature alive this long, to satisfy the world's curiosity.

Rumours Jake's birth resulted from a crude experiment of Farmer Dave's, using ram semen, sheep shit and Di's kitchen blender to create a sheep with not one, not two but three inviting anuses are, of course, false and defamatory.

Moron beats mincer to BB prize

Like every Big Brother winner before her, Aleisha Cowcher has proved you don't need a brain to walk away with the BB chocolates.

Big Brother 2007 came down to a battle between blondie Cowcher, of Cobram up on the Murray River in northern Victoria, and mincing poofburger Zach Douglas, from a little further downstream in Echuca.

Naturally, inclusive Australians made sure the bitchy fag missed out on the $450,000 and gave the prize to Reggie Bird-lite, a woman who has confessed to never reading a book from cover to cover.

Now that's an achievement.

Then again, I suppose we should be grateful that we didn't see her engage in a masturbation contest or fellating a bottle of West Coast Cooler in the spa.

Still, it's surely the last year of Big Brother. Whatever will the radio shock jocks do without being able to pretend BB is a social barometer for the nation's wayward youth?

Love with Kerry a scary prospect - just look at Gretel

Ita, if you did it, I don't care if you loved him. I don't care if you laid down and thought of England for the sake of your career. I don't care if you had a fetish for lumpy, bumpy business tycoons with bad kidneys.

There is no excuse for doing Kerry Packer. That was the time you should have claimed celibacy.

PS: If it was for the career, honey, in future take a leaf from Richard Wilkins' book - get some incriminating pictures of the boss and his son and you have a job for life without the need to interact with his crusty bedflute.