This isn't Sparta. You can probably tell by the lack of abandoned infants and barracks man-on-man action. But it is 300 (posts, for the World of Bollocks nee Weak In Sport). Whoopee fuck. Anyhoo, as per SOP for hundred-post milestones hereabouts, here's the edited highlights of the last century of crap...The most difficult job in the universe (other than being Madeleine Albright's fluffer)
First half: Chelsea play poorly. Half time: Chelsea get ripped a new set of arseholes. Second half: Chelsea score four goals. Coaching. It's complicated, I tells ya.Keeping it real
To anyone who's ever had anything to do with a real estate agent in any professional context, whether as a tenant being alternately ignored and persecuted by their property manager, an investment property owner being fed a line of bullshit by the same property manager, a potential buyer being jacked into a Dutch auction solely against themselves, or a prospective seller having an Industrial Revolution's worth of smoke blown up their arse about the prospects of a quick and profitable sale in a market showing less signs of life than Anna Nicole Smith, the concept that professional real estate industry members by and large may in fact be an all-inclusive farrago of douche-felchers will probably not shock or astound.Get this India
The inaugural IPL had the entertainment qualities of badly dubbed foreign porn - lots of appealing action, even if the plotwork-goings-on were laughably bewildering most of the time.Getting wet with Kate's dirty sister
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.
Pearls before swine
Bonus points if you can explain (a) what the fuck this girl is doing to this lizard, and (b) what the fuck it has to do with getting a career in science.Teenage lobotomy
Dr Yobbo: "Hey, if that Scully chick on the X-Files can do a full DNA sequence analysis on an alien's arsehole in an hour, I can singlehandedly bring forward the science of gene therapy by ten years in half a week."You've got male (now UPDATED with additional pointless smut)
In the 24 hours to 9am this morning the spam filter intercepted 68 emails, which goes to show how much of a target uni addresses are, as well as suggesting Your Correspondent needs to stop signing up to amateur lesbian porn sites with his work email.Gabba gabba hey: a photo essay
Six bucks doesn't buy you much these days. A small McArse value meal. A warm can of beer at the Big Day Out. Half an hour with Amy Winehouse. Basically, a lot of nasty skank you wouldn't wipe your arse with if you were desperately short of bum fodder.You only sing 'cos you're minging
MY OLD MAN, HE TOLD MEENGLAND WILL NOT BAT TILL TEA
WITH A NICK-NACK PADDY-WHACK GIVE A DOG A BONE
BARMY ARMY, FUCK OFF HOME
Don't follow me, I'm lost too
I'm on Twunter. Feel free to follow along and watch the inevitable train wreck of cognitive dissonance as Your Correspondent tries to figure out how to make all the unnecessary big words in his verbiage fit within a 140 character limit.Back by a resounding lack of popular demand...
Compared to our last visit from Captain Stupidity, this post is Ronnie Corbett as compared to Ronnie Barker: same shit jokes, just a lot shorter.Staying Onatopp of things
Based on the Czech Skorpion machine pistol, a besmirchment over which the Czechs should sue, the Klobb was named after Ken Lobb, one of Goldeneye N64's designers, who everyone must have secretly hated and/or thought was fucking shit at his job."To me, a grudge... uz just a place to pork your core"
The primary role of the garage at CD Evo 3 was to house the Brown Hornet and the Future Dr Mrs Dr Yobbo's Subaru. Its real role, though, was as the brewroom for the Old Chateau Dodgy Brewhouse, and the lair for the three seedy individuals who made up the blokey 75% of the leaseholders - Craigos, Yuri and Your Fucken Correspondent.It's not the drinking, it's how we're drinking
16 year old first year [name deleted] prided herself on being able to sneak into the unibar regardless of the large amounts of security stationed at the perimeters. One night, much to her obvious pride, she managed to pick up an older guy and took him home. Turned out he was the undercover cop stationed at the unibar for the express purpose of unearthing underage drinkers.The shortest post in the history of the universe
Over here giving unsolicited cookery advice. Such as: never cook with wine you wouldn't be prepared to drink. If it tastes of arse in the glass, it'll taste of date on the plate.
A bunch of chauvinistic misogynist rubbish disguised as high-level rock music comment
Sarah McLeod's awesome. Put it this way: she's from Adelaide, and you still would.
When the levee breaks
Grafton is one of the few places on the NSW North Coast which would be massively improved by being drowned by turd-brown floodwater.. Any Grafton resident who complains about being evacuated to Coffs Harbour is an inbred fucktard. (Actually that sentence would work just as well without the 'who complains about being evacuated to Coffs Harbour' bit.)Cheech and 'Tang
The Dog and I both played for the college football (round-ball) team, which usually involved me warming the bench while everyone else watched the Dog poncing about holding up the ball in midfield doing stepovers and circus tricks while we waited for someone to lose patience and pole-axe the bastard. Occasionally it was even someone from the other team.All choads lead to Rome
The Red Devils becoming the first side in the Champions League era to win in consecutive years will palpably fail to prevent the Running of the Chavs through the streets of Rome as 40,000 fat, sunburned, incoherent Englishmen fuelled on pints of the Sponsor's Product distinguish themselves in traditional Englander Abroad style by trashing the Eternal City, throwing up in the Trevi fountain and picking fights with the overdressed local rozzers. Or, less successfully, the incredibly violent local footy thugs.Over the hills and far away
Our man AJ found himself on the Gold Coast (sounds Biblical, wasn't) last weekend, less than two hours from home and maybe three from work in Grafton, before all the rivers ran and the Pacific Highway was cut in more places than Edward Scissorhands' wanksock.No Bull
In The Worst Possible Taste (working title) is somewhat autobiographical in that it's got a lot of bits of me and mine in it, just crammed in a blender and pureed until it's hard to remember what stories really happened and what was made up. It's a tribute, of sorts, to those good mates of mine who spent years and years of their lives in pub rock bands and covers outfits, and what might have happened had they been lucky enough (or otherwise) to be in the right place at the right time. And it's a fantastic excuse to write a lot of drinking and gratuitous sex scenes in between the occasional Big Fuck-Off Rock Show.Tour de Pants
One minor warning: there are rude bits in this. Not just sweary rude. Boy-and-girl-bits-in-fairly-graphic-detail rude. Just so you know. Anyone likely to become offended by such materials is advised to... hang on, what the fuck would you be doing here in the first place?The second shortest post in the history of the universe
[The art of Hungover Breakfasting, at Mother Foccacia]The problem with the Big Breakfast is this: it's almost always just a little bit shit.
T20 Cricket World Champs Update from WoBNewsWire
Attacked by Rundy Bum
Rum may have a reputation for reasons it doesn't deserve. Then again maybe it does. In any case, my fifteen minutes are up. Good night.World T20 Update II: Gayle blows, everyone else sucks
New Zealand defeated Scotland in a heavily rain-affected match which was reduced to one ball per side. New Zealand equalled Scotland's target of six, resulting in a tied result. The match was subsequently decided in NZ's favour by a six-ball Super Over eliminator.The dumbest thing I have seen in a long, long time
When the fuck did the Systeme International approve the use of 'number of people you can fly to Hawaii' as the official SI unit of energy measurement? Do they get to come back as well? Are they flying Air NZ? Will Air NZ lose their bags? (Actually, that's not a question, that's a given.)Adventures in understeer: the Cheng Shin Experience
There are things that I don't piss about with or skimp on, because the short-term economic payoff just ain't worth the long-term (or even short-term) misery. Things like coffee. Toilet paper. Bacon. Smack, of course. And tyres.Angus and Uncle Sam's High School Reunion
I shared a house with a girl called Karen in St Lucia for six months (along with uberlegendary flatmate Dr Cletus) and she was crazy. Not Crazy John’s crazy, not “I’m crazy and therefore I’ll give you large discounts on Telstra-branded mobile communications products” crazy; Karen was more along the lines of “not paying her share of any bills and never going to lectures and never going to work and dressing up like a Goth and changing her name to Desparia and hanging by her ankles from the ceiling of her room on some sort of goddamn trapeze thing” crazy.NZ vs France at Carisbrook: a photo essay
Jesus suffering fuck New Zealand's shit at rugby.More highly intellectual analysis of the sporting oeuvre just as soon as this fucking hangover lifts.
World T20 Update III: and suddenly the stunt goes horribly wrong
Cricket Australia have called up nuggety NSW captain Simon Katich, originally left out of the side under the 'Kasey Chambers' provision in the selection criteria, i.e. he's Not Pretty Enough.In the worst possible taste
The serialised adventures of Andy 'Angus' Young and the lads from Flange Gasket will be progressively updated at http://flangegasket.blogspot.com. It's dumb but it's fun, somewhat like the music the Gasket crank out. Or Angus' usual taste in women. Your pick.A few of my favourite things. Very few. One, in fact.
I've taken the BUGA UP methodology and applied it to other industries with highly dubious (if not completely faulty) moral compasses, like real estate. Peeling the plastic letters off For Sale signs, changing the message and (most importantly) replanting the sign as-was is a critical part of such civil disobedience.World T20 Update The Revenge
All the news that's fit. Innit.
“And while we’re at it,” Lena continued, clearly just warming up, “why are they always fucking pilates instructors? Or fucking swimsuit models, or fucking soapie starlets, or fucking ballerinas, or fucking Channel Ten newsreaders?”“I never touched Ron Wilson,” I replied. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Generation J
In The Worst Possible Taste, when you reduce it down to its most basic essence, is a love story between me and the rock music Triple J introduced me to.And cars.
And chicks with big tits.
Generation J: Additional
Eleven IS one louder than ten, it's true.The Lions get red-shirted... and Tuqiri goes Tah-Tahs
Now, obviously, I'm not qualified to make a comment on rugby union, being as though I went to a government school and have never seen a soggy Sao in my life, but one pertinent point occurs to me. What's the fucking point of Lions tours if they never win a fucking game?Borats on bikes
Enjoy Le Tour. Even if just for the hotties in the frocks on the presentation dais at the end of the day.
I'm guessing they draw straws to see who has to end up in the polka-dot ones.
Delusions of adequacy
I've clearly missed something. Something big. And I've missed it not by a small margin, as separated Lance from yellow this morning, but by a lot, as separated Nate Myles from the bowl a few mornings prior.All hands against his own
Is this the most heroically gratuitous restaurant marketing campaign in the history of heroically gratuitous marketing campaigns?
Menu looks good though. Anyone else wondering what their seafood course is like?
Don't (don't don't don't) believe the hype
It'll be interesting - possibly the only thing left which WILL be interesting in this tour, given the flat stages belong to the Manx Mong and everything else to Astana - to see what the American sports media, which usually misses the nuance of tactic-heavy Euro team sports, makes of Their Golden Boy effectively being prevented from directly contending for victory by his own team. Whether he was ever up to it isn't really the point.World Wide Web
The nation can finally smile again, for the first time in eight years. Because MARK WEBBER FINALLY RAN OUT OF WAYS TO FUCK UP A GRAND PRIX. AT LAST. I declare a National Day of Celebration. Let's all go and sit on the side of the road with the bonnet up in honour of him.On shaky ground
Steve Price is a good bloke. But Jesus Christ he can't fight.I just wasn't made for these times
Would I trade my safe, secure, ABS and airbagged modern family chariot for a snarling Monaro GTS or even a Hemi six-pack Charger? If we're trading the heavily policed dual carriageways of modern times for the unrestricted two-lane blacktop of pre-1971 'Straya... hell yeah. Just as I'd trade the South Sydney side of 2009 for the Souths side of 1971, cos they actually WON SHIT. But dammit, who wouldn't? Who wouldn't trade Ricky Ponting for Ian Chappell, Mitchell Johnson for Dennis Lillee or Michael Clarke for Dougie Walters? Who wouldn't trade Lara Bingle for Brigitte Bardot? The Kings of Leon for Led Zeppelin? Kevin Rudd for Gough Whitlam? Pure Blonde for Something Actually Fucking Drinkable?He's been doing it all day sir
My family is fully sick. Which is not to say they are a subwoofer in a lowered Civic owned by an adolescent gentleman from Punchbowl, but that they are all nursing head colds.Gratituous cross-promotional exercise
Go here, read this. Cooking is really just experimental science, and furthermore if an experiment's worth doing it's worth doing once, dodgily, and published before anyone asks too many questions.To everything there is a season
Spring has sprung. Well, not here. In Hungary. The spring in question being one off a BrawnGP Formula One car, which has sprung into the locality of one Felipe Massa to the detriment of his continued interest in the sport.America: f**k yeah
Plymouth Barracuda with a 383 Hemi and a plutonium-green paintjob. See this one around town occasionally. Numberplate reads 'SAVGAS' (suffixed in small text with 'FOR ME TO USE')I got two fitty
Choad Kroeger, as near as I can tell, is dead serious when he gurns like a constipated wrestler, 'You look so much cuter with something in your mouth.' What, pray tell? Chewing gum? Dentures? Her retainer? At least he could have added 'Take out your fuckin' retainer, put it in your purse.'Body paint and magic dirt
Suffice to say that Palmerston North is not a place you want to be. Imagine a tenth-scale model of Adelaide, except without the interest or excitement.Hard to kill
NZ loves a Subaru. Even if the illiterate fuckers can't pronounce the name properly. They seem to think it should be said with the accent on the second syllable, presumably as it'd be if it was a Maori word - suBAAAru. Either that or it's some sort of self-perpetuating sheep joke.I hate stupid people
I've been told I'm only angry because I'm an Aries and I can't get away from anger. Unfortunately this also makes me angry because my default position on astrologers is standing, usually on their throats. And this doesn't do much to disprove the girl in question's theory.We waz rong.
I saw the experiment which was Shane Watson batting in the top order for Queensland in Shield cricket. It was not an experiment which would have passed muster at the relevant research ethics committees because it was FUCKING PAINFUL FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED.Great balls of fire
In truth, though, the biggest problem is that Gen Y are a pack of cunts who needed to be beaten more often when they were growing up.We'll get him when he comes back in
Point Break was and remains a bucket of absolute slop. Still, it was entertaining. In the same way lighting a brown paper bag full of dog poo, leaving it on someone's doorstep, pressing the doorbell and running like fuck is entertaining.Strange Brew II: The Revenge
Home brew. Beloved by pottering retirees and cheap-arsed uni students alike, it's renown for being almost always horrendous, overgassed and overskanked, its nastiness in direct proportion to the perceived qualities imparted by the description provided by the brewer. So just like VB then.Even flow
One hopes that John the Dodgy Indian Bookie is content with the result of the final one-dayer between the Poms and the Aussies, as he would be with the Manc derby, in which the ref played seven minutes of the four minutes of injury time scheduled. Coincidentally Man U scored the winner 6m58 into injury time. Choads.The unbearable lightness of crap
The issue of whether 31 year old men should be wearing skate shoes in the first place is not one which we will be addressing in this context, so go intercourse yerselves with some form of objet d'art, preferably a pointy one.Alarms, sirens, fire trucks, car crashes, drizzle... a typical Wednesday afternoon on the mean streets of D-town
As it turned out, the giving-way-to-nobody specialist at the wheel of the Vectra had been a middle-aged Chinese lady test-driving her car after having been repaired after the LAST rear-ender she'd been in. Hmmm.Stitch that Jimmy
The real Grand Final
Bathurst is a race of endurance, and per the oldest maxim of motorsport, to finish first, first you must finish. Hence the winner is anyone who survives all of that and still makes it to work on Monday. Without calling in sick, claiming the chicken salt on the pub chips gave you campylobacter. Even though I maintain that WAS a stroke of genius at the time.
Believe it or yacht
Sure, there was a lot that was dodgy about that America's Cup win. Even setting the Silver Bodgie's jacket aside, if it's possible to do that without BBQ tongs.
The WoB Educational Supplement
There is reserved a special kind of hell for those tiny-penised arseclowns who immediately greet the arrival of an overtaking lane by adjusting their velocity from ten km/h below the posted limit to ten above. It's called Christchurch, and they're fucking welcome to it.Movember reign
Given my dubious history with facial hair you'd think I'd be the least appropriate signup for a front-running premiership-chasing Movember franchise, but the Magnum PI All Stars (captained by fine citizen Naut) appear to think otherwise. And they've already got Major Havock's dubious ginger mo in the train-on squad so what's another dose of dodgy ranga facial fuzz between mates.Whatareya?
I'm so fucken rural I feel ripped off when TV ad breaks don't contain at least one commercial for cattle dip. Fairly content in D-Town then, as it happens.Position A, Sandy
There's weird doings afoot on my televisual screen, and it's not just the glass of Cooper's Sparky I'm viewing it through. It's that there golfing tournament, the Strayan Masters, in which it is oft said, usually by nasal one-armed golfing drunk Jack Newton, 'The Tradition Continues'. Except, in this year's Masters, the tradition does not continue. It fails to continue. It is, indeed, discontinuous. And there's nothing more profoundly objectionable than discontinuities in one's tradition.One shot for glory
I'm backing the All Whites because we Aussies know what last-chance, sudden-death World Cup qualifiers are like. They're horrendous. They're miserable and desperate and they fucking kill you to watch them. They suck. And we kinda miss them.Not very PC
But there's that certain whiff to Linuxistas, that whiff of... I don't know what you'd call it. Anorak. Parents' basement. Lynx Africa. Really, they're just as dull and punishing as the PCites, just with that alluring dash of proto-anarchic 'I'm bringing down the system from within, really quietly, so like totally up yours Uncle Bill' which pulls all the chicks. For sufficiently low levels of all.No silver lining
Eastern Creek Raceway was built for two reasons: one, to steal the MotoGP off Phillip Island, and two, to replace Amaroo Park, a wonderful little racetrack once described by Nelson Piquet (Senior, the old man of the crashing-F1s-on-purpose muppet) as a mini-Nurburgring but which was put to the sword in the late 90s by the need to build more obnoxious fucking McMansions on prime bushland.Random fragments
Te Reo Maori is the official second language of New Zealand. You can answer questions in University exams in it if you want. Personally I have to admit to being cynical about the practical utility of a language developed by a seafaring island warrior people for modern, technologically confronting Western life.I now stand corrected. Te Reo Maori's fucken tops.
Dirty tramps get sprung
Kids these days might get iPods and designer smack but they also have to put up with milquetoast bullshit the likes of which had never even been heard of ten years ago. Time out. Naughty steps. Peanut allergies.Ten years gone
With the signature half-arsedness that characterized our year, noone could be bothered organizing our ten year high school reunion. There was, I'm told, an eleven year reunion, basically organized by and for the girls who'd hung around and bred with locals (cue Tex Perkins and the Dark Horses' 'You'll Do'). Organization went as far as putting an ad in the local paper. World of Bollocks' Rural Correspondent AJ got an invite. I'm led to believe not even he could be arsed with it.All my friends are getting iPhones
iPenises for all. They're fucking BRILLIANT. They're shiny, they do stuff, they work well, they play music, have lots of cool apps and, in a novel development, you can talk in one end and people will talk back to you at the other. WTF next people?? Web 2.0 FTW!!!1![Additional: you can only surf iPorn on the iPhone. All play-toys used by the shaved amateur Hungarian lesbifriends in question are shiny, designer-trendy with rounded edges, and the batteries give out just when least desired.]
While my architect gently weeps
SAAB are no more. That sound you can hear is every architect, dentist and marketing 'creative' you know (and I do hope you know very few) sobbing into their short blacks.Ain't got no body
There hasn't been a good low carb beer brewed anywhere, ever. And there never will be, because it's like trying to make fat-free chocolate, or friction-free sex. You can't take out the key ingredient and expect to make the thing appealing.Corporate whore of the week
Marcos Ambrose is still a fucking embarrassment to his nation. Thankfully his nation is Tasmania and we can disclaim all responsibility for the little floater.No fidelity
Nothing about the '80s was worth keeping, retaining, or revisiting. Not the fashions, not the movies, not the cars, and definitely not the music. It. Was. Shit. I know. Unlike most of these tweenie fucks who are buying the stuff, I Was There.Monster Garage
Some people read Playboy for the articles. (Liars.) I watch Discovery Channel for the muscle car shows. Anything that involves ripping open an old-and-sagging '70s highway hero, gouging out the crap and broken bits and stuffing it full of race-engineered WIN is my kind of infotainment-oriented reality TV experience.Youse all sound the same to me, ay
For reasons that escape me the NZ accent perennially wins awards for being the most 'pure' version of spoken English in the world. It's certainly been purified free of vowels. At last count they had one and a half.Help the aged
The JJJ Hottest 100 has always been less a barometer of alternative musical credence and popularity and more a fucking good giggle. Any music poll which features in its archives Number Ones of the calibre of 'Pretty Fly For A White Guy', 'Asshole' and 'That Song Fat Arse Lloydie Did For That Ford Territory Commercial' has all the credibility of Tony Abbott at a 'Girls Can Do Anything' campaign launch.The rant we had to have
Let's do a thought experiment. (On second thoughts let's find a social scientist and punch them in the teeth for being part of the group of nimrods and fucktards that came up with the term 'thought experiment'.)Men behaving badly, part one
Five thirty-something men in a beat-up AU wagon for two days. Ambitious? Yes. Inadvisable? Probably. Immature? Well DUHHH. And fun? As sure as Jack Newton swims in circles…Take another little pizza my heart
Animal husbandry
A furry, it seems, is an individual, presumably of sound mind, who chooses to dress up in fake animal costumes in order to... erm... meet similar like-minded individuals in similar animal suits with similar suspiciously-placed velcro zips. See, you knew those Wilderness Society Koala dudes were weird fuckers. Literally, as it turns out.Men behaving badly, part two
Uncle Teds – Tooheys Extra Drys to their mother - were our traditional beverage whilst Out And About On The Piss in the late Nineties and early Noughties. One of Greg and my flatwarming pissups in St Lucia years back had been titled The Denver Beanland Memorial Housewarming, With Special Guests ‘The Uncle Ted Experience’.On the Gear
The problem with Top Gear Australia, simply, was the presenters. Steve Pizzati is a tremendous driver and a nice bloke but is dressed by his mother, who is blind, and sounds like a jockey with a peg on his nose. Warren Smith is a News Ltd cartoonist with stupid facial hair, and Charlie Cox is nominative determinism.
Crimes of passion
Passion Pop tasting notes: a full frontal sensory assault of sulphites, cough medicine and acid-etching fizz, with a lingering soupcon of arse on the back palate. Tasted like Passiona that Oliver Reed had done wees in after a particularly hefty between-gigs session at the Goat & Dirigible. Had a kick on it though, like a mule with Tabasco on its gronnicks. The hangover arrived slightly before the second sip.Beyond Solvation
Still, a fridge full of Sol for Tasman Bitter money ain't such a bad arrangement. Particularly when the most significant issue you have to account for becomes where the fuck do you find a stubbie holder that'll fit a fucking ludicrously oversized novelty bottle of beer. Darwin might be a good place to look.Men behaving badly, part three
I'd missed KFC. Good KFC, I meant. Australian KFC. KFC that tasted good and didn't give you food poisoning. Whatever the fuck NZ farmers were doing with their fresh chicken, they needed to stop it, or do it more hygienically.Cletus, get off Sharlene (cue banjo music)
Sharlene Slunt is a studious, book-loving high school senior whose safe world is turned upside down when she's drawn to the hero of our story, Cletus McBitey, an immortal vampire whose dangerous 'unlife' is both frightening and fascinating. Their friends Southern Comfort and Rohypnol advise and support this starcrossed pair as they begin a turbulent relationship...Pictorial tribute
I've only been gone a day, and already there's memorial pictures of me plastered on every doorway. By this time next week they'll have put up a statue like King Wally at Suncorp.Pop will f**k itself
Homophobia dominates pop music, from George Michael in the 80s to the dude out of Savage Garden who wasn't banging the one out of Hi-5 in the 90s. Not to mention the abuse and vilification post-op transsexual Lady Gaga gets even today from a bigoted and ignorant industry.Gardening leave
The Gardies: a poo-brown brick blockhouse out of the Legoland school of architecture, with a dilapidated beer garden strewn with broken furniture, more akin to the backyard of one of the neighbouring student flats than a licenced house of ale. But that's the thing. Uni bars aren't meant to be shiny. They're meant to be functional. Like the backyards, living rooms and garages of the student flats they stand as proxies for.______________
Enough recycled shite; Actual New Content coming soon. Honest.
Till then... the Doctor is OUT.
3 comments:
Congrats on the verbal shit-storm, Doc.
I do vehemently disagree with 1 of the 300 posts: I'd bone the Asian Hi-5 bird before going anywhere near the vanilla plain Jane.
Some gold in there Doc, looking forward to the next 300.
Moko in high heeled FM boots - now theres an image I hope to forget...
And, guitar playing rock chicks, where the bloody hells' Lita Ford ??
Hmmm which Asian one though? The one who banged the not-gay one from Savage Garden, or the Korean one they replaced her in a by-no-means-token-gesture?
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