Getting wet with Kate's dirty sister

Red Bull Racing's Sebastian Vettel has been widely heralded as the new Michael Schumacher. If I was him I'd be pretty fucked off by being compared to such a talentless, humourless hack as the big chinned one. As discussed previously, Seb seems to be as good value as he is good behind the wheel. He walked it (or perhaps waded) from pole position in Sunday's largely-underwater Chinese F1 Grand Prix, even trouncing the finest race driver ever to have once been a ballboy for the Canberra Raiders, his Strayan teammate Mark 'Hopalong' Webber in the same car. And then went on to explain why he gives his cars girls names. "My original car was called Kate. Like a ship, it should be named after a girl as it’s sexy." Erm, whatever does it for you, Seb. But then he took Kate out in Melbourne but the pair of them got wiped out and she ended up completely smashed. Her replacement was faster, more aggressive and trickier to handle but ultimately, a better ride. She was dubbed Kate’s Dirty Sister. And, as per reputation, she went like the clappers.

Update of another racing-related story previously followed on the World of Bollocks - turns out Indycar driver and former Star with whom Dancing was televisually availed of the US populace, Helio Castroneves won't be grabbing his ankles in the shower block at the county farm any time soon. Well, not unless he's got a new hobby his Penske team aren't aware of. He's been acquitted on all counts of tax evasion brought against him by the Feds, leaving his replacement, Woomby Land refugee Will Power (yes that is his real name) out of a full time gig once more, and the rest of us wondering what the fuck the Feds thought they were doing bringing the case in the first place.

But the most intriguing entry in this edition of Recycling A Bunch Of Old Shit We Talked About Fucken Ages Ago is... this. Ben Elton once said that the most pressing question facing society at that time was 'the Australian question', which was, as he put it, 'Which of Hi-5 would you shag first?'

Here's your answer.

Yeah, it's the blonde chick from Hi-5, slutting it up an absolute treat in failing ACP wankers' interest mag Ralph. No idea whether she has a sister called Kate.

We dealt with Kellie's marital issues in a literature review from our occasional gossip-mag correspondent, Munter the Invercargill truck driver, which also included the Munter's first experience of her line of work:

So anyway, this one was worth the price of admission alone. Strawberry blonde, like Nic Kidman back in the day before she fucked off and married that impotent Scientologist midget with the big honker and the miniscule cock. Slender as you like - the Munter tends to prefer them with a bit of meat on their bones, but I wasn't gonna kick her out of bed if she farted - great legs, tits, and an arse you could open a stubbie with. I had me usual seat, kicking back with a beer - Jesus they charge like a wounded bull these days - as this chick started doing her thing. Her eyes meet mine, she's got this dirty little grin on her face. None of this 'going through the motions' rubbish you get with some other so-called 'professional entertainers'. 'Going through the motions' is what you used to do swimming off Bondi before they extended the outfall - it's not what you want when you lay down your hard earned for a bit of fun yeah? Anyway this one was no talk and all action, me favourite. Harder than four unit maths I was. So she crawls on all fours across her little stage in some sort of skimpy skin-tight athletic legging sort of schtick - not the usual get-up but I wasn't writing to the ODT to complain. "I'm a dirty little piggie," she purred with that spank-my-arse grin. Fuckin' bet you are luv, I nodded. "And I need to take a bath...." At that point I almost knocked me beer over on the remote control...

It'd be less disturbing if it hadn't actually happened. Half-seven in the morning, hungover, seedy, cradling strong stovetop-espresso, mesmerised by and not dealing well with all the vibrant colour and movement on the crystal bucket, is NOT the time of day you expect to see a slammin' strawberry-blonde hottie crawling around on all fours declaring she's a dirty little piggy who needs a bath. (Aforementioned dirty piggie pictured left in happier times.) You're not equipped to deal with that sort of input the morning after a few too many Chateau Dodgy home brews on a Sunday night watching the world superbikes. At least we weren't, until Craigos and I came up with the lightbulb moment of muting the synthetic kiddie-centric pop bilge and instead supplying some more appropriate form of audio accompaniment. Like Black Sabbath, or Frenzal Rhomb. You've not lived unless you've watched a trio of Hi-5 hotties gyrating to something like Lord Of This World or Russell Crowe's Band's A Fucken Pile Of Shit.

Which brings us to the point of the, um, exercise: kids TV hotties. The handwringing over Kellie togging off for ACP's leery lensmen is nothing new; it goes back, waaaaayyyy back, even beyond Sophie Lee's fishnet miniskirts and sultry pout on the Bugs Bunny Show in the early '90s. Kids TV and hotties have always gone together: Terasa Livingstone, Sofie Formica, Catriona Rowntree - hell, even Ranger Stacey if you were that way inclined - and a bunch of others now long-forgotten and not a little moth-eaten, but who back in the day were the evolutionary precursors of modern-era kids TV hotties like Kellie, the ginger one and the Asian one from Hi-5. None of whom have still got a gig on the show of course - one married the token straight one from Savage Garden, one fucked off to Seven, and one - our favourite one (Charli, though marginally hotter, was fundamentally more annoying) - stuck with it right to the end, then went and quasi-nuded-up for Ralph. Which was, and is, why we love her so.


It's almost enough to make you forget she was partly responsible for inflicting the Teen Queens upon us.

Almost.

The Doctor is OUT.

PS It's Craigos' 31st today. If you run into him, buy him a beer.