Doppelganger

DNA might be unique but our appearances are less so. Our faces and physiques are made up of a myriad little bits and pieces that combine to make us look the way we do. So it follows logically that we might have a few of those features in common with many others.

And it would also make sense that if we were to have many features in common with an unrelated other, there might just be enough for a very close resemblance to be noticeable.

Think of:

Harrison Ford and Nick Faldo;

Samuel L Jackson and Clarence Williams III;

John Howard and Mr Magoo;

So when a mate emailed me recently with news that I have a double out there on the web, I wasn't surprised. He sent an attachment as proof. Unashamedly kidding myself by expecting to see an image of maybe John Malkovich, or some other not-really-good-looking-but-still-very-attractive bloke in the early stages of middle age, I opened it up.No such luck. Instead, my doppelganger turned out to be:











Hardy fucking har. I find this most offensive and objectionable.

Bauhaus 93 and Benguiat Frisky should NEVER be used together.

I Haven't Been Everywhere, Man

Another blogger posted about a website where you could click on various countries on a world map to indicate places you've been. I thought this was a terrific idea. So I followed the link, coloured in the countries I've been to and saved the image. Stuffed if I can remember the details now.

So, apologies to the blogger who put me onto this for not attributing, and sorry again for not being able to provide a link here.

I blame prolonged marijuana use. But my mates say I shouldn't use a perfectly delightful substance as a scapegoat for my own shortcomings. So okay cannabis sativa, I hereby apologise to you as well. We've been friends for too long to let a little thing like this come between us.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, the map.

It's fine, but it does gild the lily just a tad:

1) Indonesia is only coloured in because I had a two-week holiday in Bali in 1984;

2) New Zealand made the cut only by virtue of a three-hour stopover at Auckland Airport on the way to the US in 1986;

3) Mexico just qualified thanks to a day trip to Tijuana from Los Angeles in 1987;

4) But I couldn't fucking find Fiji, where a stopover on the way back from the US in 1987 provided me with a three-hour Nadi Airport sojourn;

If you know the website where these maps are available let me know in the comments and I'll update.

Ich Bin Ein Springfielder

With thanks to Comic Strip Hero, who posted her own Simpsons Avatar this morning.

This is Lad Litter and TLOML:

And this is Moe; Larry; and Curly:

Blogger won't let me put a fucking title on. Great. That will really piss people off. Especially that googler who got here with the search terms put the big lad in my arse. He might be getting a little bit impatient. His next search might be okay then, how about if I put my much bigger lad in your arse?

Nevertheless, this is:

The Ballad Of Lad Litter And TLOML VI

Are you with me?

If you are, congratulations on your attention span and thanks for hanging in there. Six long episodes to tell a tale that took only a few short weeks to unfold. But then again, as love stories go, it has a raven-tressed heroine, and a moronic hero. A Byronic hero. That was what I meant to say.

We’ve been together for just over twenty years now, and married for the past eighteen of them. Moe, Larry & Curly round things out nicely for us and we are, to borrow from the latest Smith’s crisps jingle, happy together.

The course of our true love hasn’t always run smoothly and there have probably been three occasions when we might have parted ways, two when we were dating and one early in our marriage. I imagine most others could tell a similar tale.

But here’s what’s happening in our world:

1) I have the hots for TLOML, in pretty much the same way I did when I first laid eyes on her. If anything, the feeling might be stronger now;

2) We make each other laugh at our own expense. Foibles and idiosyncrasies are grist to our humour mill;

3) She is incredibly supportive and understanding, sometimes when I don’t deserve it;

4) I get a big kick out of being acknowledged as her husband. Like when I’m introduced to someone who has met her but not me and they say “Oh, you’re TLOML’s husband!” I’m told my voice drops a tone and a half and one eyebrow lifts about a centimetre when I reply, “Yes. Yes, I am.”;

5) We seem to agree and disagree in a fairly balanced way. Enough of the former to make things go smoothly, and enough of the latter to make things interesting and challenge our outlooks;

6) We both believe we are lucky, and tell each other so. No, not just during sex, at regular times too. Alright, those regular times are usually before sex, but that’s no coincidence.

7) She is often contemptuous of my interests so I don’t get too big for my boots. But then, she’ll make sure that I get new cricket pants when I need them, or Martin Scorsese’s Bob Dylan doco No Direction Home for Christmas;

Alright, so did I have a point to make? Is there anything from this sweeping saga that anyone could actually learn from or use in their own life? I doubt it. There’s no moral to the story as such, beyond a series of vague guiding principles that would have very limited application for anyone else.

But I’m going to have a crack at it anyway.

And so, coming soon, to conclude this series will be:

The Ballad of Lad Litter and TLOML VII:
Against All Odds – Lad Litter’s Guide To Winning A Woman™

Try Face Transformer

A very short, slack post today. What were you expecting, the New Yorker?

Anyway, this post comes to you thanks to PomGirl, who provided the link and the inspiration. You’ve just got to try Face Transformer. Here’s how it turned out for us:

This is Lad Litter and TLOML: I’m on the left, silly.

This is Lad Litter and TLOML rendered as Manga characters:

This is Lad Litter and TLOML as if painted by Botticelli:

This is Lad Litter and TLOML as if painted by Modigliani:

Face Transformer will also change your face to: its Asian equivalent; its African equivalent; a simian equivalent (plenty of laughs there, but very unflattering!) and more, some of which work better than others.

Here are some suggestions for future options that would make Face Transformer even more fun:

Picasso; The Simpsons; DC Comics; Munch; Van Gogh; Tandberg; and on and on…

To what style would you most like to see your face transformed?

Brushes With Fame II: Jon English

We’d flown sleeplessly into Sydney from Hawaii on the way home to Melbourne from a US trip and had plonked ourselves down on couches in the First Class Lounge. Now, don’t just assume that I sneaked in or had bluffed the doorman. TLOML and I had every right to be there. We were genuine First Class passengers, and had been right throughout the trip. And we were wearing the complimentary socks to prove it.

I’d won a trip for two to the US on the TV show, Sale of the Century. And first class air travel was part of the prize. I was sure this would be the one and only time at the pointy end of a plane, and so it has proved.

Anyway, back in the First Class Lounge at Sydney airport on this morning early in 1991 we were tired and thirsty so I headed off to get TLOML and I some juice. When I returned, there was a long-haired bloke sitting opposite TLOML with his back to me, talking volubly. She was smiling and nodding.

As I handed TLOML her juice he looked up and said g’day. It was Jon English. I sat down and we watched the cricket on a nearby TV, which was coming live from the West Indies. He knew a bit about cricket too.


An ad came on for an upcoming TV show, The Flash.



“You beauty” I said. And he gave me a bit of a funny look.
“I used to read those comics when I was a kid,” I explained.
“I’m still reading them,” he said. And he started telling me about how much he liked the graphic novel phenomenon, which had enjoyed a resurgence since the publication of Batman: The Dark Knight Returns some years before.

Well, we were off, the two of us. Leaving TLOML completely out of the conversation as only two self-absorbed blokes can, we talked comics, superheroes and their treatment on film and TV till the boarding call came. He was on his way to Melbourne to shoot episodes of All Together Now, his then series.

I asked him how his musical Paris was coming along as I knew he’d released an album the year before to see if the idea could grow some legs.


“Not too bad,” he told me.
“I hope it gets into musical form,” I offered, “It’s such a great story.”

“One of two or three great stories,” he told me.

The link tells you that it was finally performed in 2003.

Our seats on the plane were a fair way apart so we didn’t speak again but I thought, well, that was nice. I met someone famous and had a really enjoyable conversation. Didn’t make a complete dickhead out of myself.

Now, TLOML is actually a fan of Jon English. With record albums and Pirates of Penzance ticket stubs to prove it. And has the hots for him, even. I worried that she might be just a little bit furious about the way we kind of left her out. I half-apologised, at the same time admonishing her for not having read superhero comics as a child, but she was quite serene about the whole thing.

“While you two were talking your boy-talk I just sat back and watched him and listened to him, the gorgeous hunk. You probably did me a favour.”

Well, that’s OK then.