Piecost.Net

Australians who grew up in the 1990s and didn’t have any TV reception limitations will more than likely remember The Late Show.  One of the thoughtful services this hour-long show offered was a toilet break at half time, where if necessary you were given 2 minutes’ respite from the sketch-based hilarity in which to pop out of the loungeroom – during which time they filled the space with selections from 1987’s daytime amateur talent show Pot Luck.

One of the appealing things about Pot Luck was resident judge, TV chef Bernard King.  In many ways King predated Simon Cowell’s bitchy behaviour, and possibly elements of Gordon Ramsay as well.  It is readily apparent that the auditioning process, assuming there was one, was significantly less stringent than in today’s equivalent programmes such as Pop Idol, X Factor, etc.  And yet watching these honest efforts by people with a passion for their art being given a chance to perform seems kinder than the snide packaging of “hilarious entrants in first round of auditions” in the more recent shows (yes, like William Hung).

A few highlights from the Pot Luck vaults, via The Late Show vaults…

1) David Thai, with his heartfelt rendition of John Farnham’s “Pressure Down”.  And choreography inspired by Michael Jackson, it would appear.

2) The promising moves of Todd Rixon, although unfortunately the performance was cut short due to dance-related calamity.

3) RAZIA.

Yes, it was Razia who garnered the immortal review from King – “Talent: nil. Presentaion: nil. Potential: totally nil. But a sum total of 10 for generosity”.

4) The Nelligan Sisters.  I used to have nightmares about this.

5) And finally, the incomparable… Piffy!

[prompted by MarkE]

I’ve always wondered how people navigate when they get to the magnetic poles, as compasses would pretty much become useless, in theory.  It turns out this is indeed the case, and what’s more GPS isn’t reliable due to the extreme temperature.  This leaves the only viable and reliable means of navigating to be by sun position, or if it’s windy, by sticking a pair of lace underpants on the end of a ski pole to determine wind direction.

The earth’s strong magnetic field on this part of the ocean means that the compass needle simply spins uselessly in its housing. As such, we’re currently relying on more traditional methods for day-to-day navigation, using the sun (for those few precious hours each day when it graces us with its presence), and using wind direction, as indicated by the panties…

[Nothing To Do With Arbroath]

The amazingness of bacon strikes again, with the global obsession now prompting the release of Bacon Flavoured Jelly Beans.

Lamentably, not shippable from Amazon.com to the UK.  Still, a guy can dream, can’t he?

Dammit, I knew Marcus Brigstocke was funny, but I didn’t realise he had beatboxing chops as well…  here he is getting farmyard against Bellatrix in Shlomo’s Music Through Unconventional Means series.

Police in Germany have been tracking a now infamous criminal, “The Phantom of  Heilbronn”, across 16 years when her DNA turned up at 6 separate murder sites.  A reward of 300,000 euros has been offered to find this dangerous misfit.

Doubts began to surface about the killer however when the killer’s DNA turned up on an ID card from someone who died in a fire, but upon a second testing of the card there was no such incriminating DNA present.

Police are currently getting DNA samples from workers at the factory where the cotton buds used in DNA testing are produced and packed, as it’s now looking as if the buds may have had DNA from the workers on them before being used in the investigations.

“The investigators are not to blame. They can’t tell if a cotton bud has DNA sticking to it.”

However, he admitted that “if the trace does belong to a woman working in the factory, it’ll be very embarrassing”.

[BBC News]

Been getting into a bit of Victor Borge’s old stuff.  Well let’s face it, he ain’t making any new stuff.

What a talented & profoundly silly man.

When he first moved to America he couldn’t speak English – he learned it from watching movies.  Not a bad job, all things considered.

Lady addressing a city council meeting (not sure which city) gets frustrated with verbal altercation. As she returns to her chair she whacks another woman on the back of the head with a magazine.  It’s a bit uncalled for, but the resulting raction is priceless.  An apelike scream, head clutching, then a dive to the floor.  She probably just realised it was an easy way to get out of having to spend the rest of the afternoon listening to the meeting.

Today a truck full of tortoises collided with a van full of terrapins.

Eyewitnesses said it was a turtle disaster.

[Popbitch]

Charlie Brooker, the UK’s own hilarious storehouse of vitriol, cynicism & spite, nicely encapsulates all that’s wrong with spoilt rich US kids through the form of his descriptive narrative on MTV’s My Super Sweet 16.

I’d vote for him to be Pope, that’s for sure.