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Fame and glory: Better late than never.

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There are times in a man’s life when he really should take a long hard look at himself and truthfully admit that, when compared to others, he is occupying six cubic feet of space which might otherwise be put to better use.

Let’s face it, I have completely failed to honour my genetic inheritance or justify the existence of my protoplasmic mass with any semblance of outstanding achievement.

Tom Lehrer was the twentieth century’s pre-eminent satirical lyricist.
When he was 37 years of age in 1965 he also broached the subject of his own comparative inadequacy with the following comment to his audience;

“It is a sobering thought, for example, that when Mozart was my age he’d been dead for two years.”

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The following  is a condensed list of my failures to date;

1.  Failed to achieve any of my childhood ambitions. Fireman. Ship’s captain. Radio announcer. Train driver.

2.  Failed to consummate what at one time seemed to me to be a ‘sure thing’ with Ms fancypants MacPherson.

3.  Failed to win any pie-eating, ballroom dancing, arm wrestling or Mister Congeniality competitions.

4.  Failed to sire octuplets. (to the best of my knowledge)

5.  Failed to change the world in any way. I’ve never precipitated a war, fomented social unrest, marched for world peace or even burnt a bra in anger. (except for just one time, and that didn’t change the world….it just made Mrs GOF very angry.)

6.  Most distressing of all is that Australia ignored my prodigious talents for 30 years when selecting it’s International cricket team.  Furthermore, even after I’d spent so much money on a (since reversed) sex-change operation I was still not even considered for
our women’s beach volleyball training squad prior to the Sydney 2000 Olympics.

So shove it Australia. I’m taking my sporting prowess overseas.

Being fully aware that my springchickenhood may well expire sometime during the next decade, I was left with the challenge of finding a suitable sport upon which to unleash my superabundant talents.
The answer came through divine intervention.
A heavenly angel descended to my garden shed (into which you will recall I had been compulsorily quarantined by Mrs GOF last month when I was sick) and whispered the following message from God;

“GOF, your destiny is a narrow, cold and wet hole in the ground.”

Before I had time to further discuss the ramifications of this spiritual sporting guidance, the angel suddenly went *poof* and transmogrified into a ghostly and ghastly apparition (which coincidentally bore an uncanny resemblance to Tammy Faye Bakker) before vanishing through the shed window into the darkness of night.

Praise the Lord for absence of ambiguity.  


I’m now in training for;




The International Bog Snorkelling Championships.

Mr Gerden Green, a linguist from Llanwrtyd Wells in Wales, came up with the idea of bog snorkelling one evening in 1976 when he was high on a combination of booze and methane trying to forget the travails of his academic day. His post-doctoral thesis, “An examination of where all the missing Welsh vowels disappeared to” was not progressing as planned and was giving him the shts and splttng hedachs.

World record-holder for two laps of the 55 metre-long bog trench is Joanne Pitchforth with a time of 1 minute 35.18 seconds, so I phoned her in the U.K. hoping she would help me with some training hints;

“Pith off GOTH ith juth finisht trainink ant I caent tork to you corth my flikinth teeths are full oft grath and mut and uther thit laek amoebaths, parathetiumths and wormths”.

Well I’ll teach that Ms Gutter-Gob Pitchfork a lesson or two in August at Waen Rydd bog in Wales.
She may well have superior buoyancy but I’ve been working on a way to harness diet and technology to my advantage.
Sauerkraut and baked beans for breakfast linked somewhat circuitously to a hot-air catalytic thruster concealed in my jocks.

I have a feeling in my gut that the Bog Snorkelling World Record will soon be mine.


Autographs may be requested on this forum in September after I triumphantly return to Australia laden down with trophies and medallions and tanned all over from the relentless glare of the International media spotlight.

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About GOF

"Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it, depends upon what you put into it." (Tom Lehrer)

36 responses »

  1. With that diet, I’m positive you DO have a feeling in your gut … you just may be misinterpreting it.

    Why would you go swim in a bog when you have all those nice clean beaches nearby that you could … oh. That’s right, you’re banned. I’ll bet those folks in Wales won’t be so persnickety about their laws concerning cameras!

    • “With that diet, I’m positive you DO have a feeling in your gut … you just may be misinterpreting it.”

      I think you’re right GOM….this morning I’m not feeling quite so empowered…..and Mrs GOF send me down to the shed again last night for a reason other than sickness.
      No more sauerkraut and beanz.

  2. I’m impressed with you, GOF, no matter what Australia says.

  3. You do know clothing is mandatory for bog diving right? (That rule was made immediately after the fellow in the top picture with the goldielocks wig took his turn)

    My bubble has been burst in stunning fashion: You’ve never won a pie eating contest? That’s disappointing at best. Sigh.

    • “after the fellow in the top picture with the goldielocks wig took his turn”

      Damn…and I was getting all excited because I thought it was a hot chick waiting her turn.

      Sorry to be such a disappointment in the pie-eating department Rich, but I hope my upcoming moment of bog-glory will in some small way compensate for the inadequacies in other areas of my life.

  4. International, eh? So people come from all over the world to swim in a nasty BOG?

  5. Again I’m impressed with your imagination, GOF As I also feel that my undoubted talents have gone unrecognised by my fellows, I have resolved to join you in your pursuit of international recognition. I’ve already instructed Mrs Snowy that my diet is to include sauerkraut and baked beans. Much to my surprise she enthusiastically agreed to support me. Muttering something about standing behind her man has it’s limits, she even suggested that I sleep in the garden shed in order to toughen up for the event. She even said there was a bed for you there too as she expects you to soon be homeless. I really don’t know how we ever survived without the love and attention of our doting wives, don’t you think?

    • Thank you Snowy. It is such a joy to find another kindred spirit like yourself who has also been ostracised by his mother country.
      There’s probably not enough room for both of us in your garden shed… fact it may well be extremely dangerous and explosive if there are any naked flames in the shed.
      (on second thoughts a couple of naked old flames might not be a bad idea either)

      Sorry…..I’m distracted and I’ve completely forgotten what my blog story was about.

  6. Bog snorkeling or Blog snorkeling? It’s harder to hang out in the bog in your bathrobe and slippers. Can we have a new category so I can compete, too?

  7. I wanted to be a cowboy when I was a little girl, but where I live I’m nowhere near a cow, let alone a horse or Dodge City. I’ve had to take consolation in being a herder of students and grammar. But it is kind of a letdown.

    • You’re much better off with your chosen vocation HG. Had you been a cowboy all your life you would now be a bow-legged broken-down shell of a person having suffered 25 broken and fractured bones along with scrambled brains from all the times you fell off the horse onto your head.

  8. You’ll also look tanner from the filth that will get in and semi-permanently stain your skin. Bring back some bog for us!

    • Thank you for visiting edrevets, and for making a very valid point.
      Please expect a special consignment of bog in the mail in September.

  9. I can’t speak to your athletic prowess, GOF, but your blog has added immeasurably to the world’s stock of…um…knollij.

    That must count for something.

  10. I don’t know where the booze came from, but I bet that bog has enough methane to get you high for days. Good luck and maybe after you can take another swipe at that pie eating contest.

    • Thank you Amelie…apparently Wales has a couple of pubs where you can access booze. I’ll be ready to eat a good large pie when I finish the race just to get all the amoebas and paracetiums moving on down through my gut.

  11. You do realise that this is going to lead to a throng of media types hanging around the front gate, GOF?

    I know you haven’t the heart to shoot wild pigs but you could be further celebrated by removing some of those brainless morning TV folk off the planet whilst doing their’on-site” reporting.

    Then you would be thrice famous. The Bog, Pest extermination, and the biggie, the funniest blog in Oz.

    Ms Fancypants will be kicking herself.

    • Thank you for your kind comments and for reblogging the story Peter.
      I’m so pleased that you get a smile out of this stuff….it makes all the time I spend writing it worthwhile.

  12. Reblogged this on 1petermcc's Blog and commented:
    Check out GOF’s latest. (And yes I’m shamelessly bathing in GOF’s celebrity)

    • And thanks for doing so as it led me to this very entertaining read.

      Bog snorkelling always appeared to me to be the result of a dedicated effort to create the most ridiculous and eccentric sport it’s possible to imagine. But fair play to them anyway, and good luck to you and all your fellow entrants!

      • Thanks for dropping by and also for your comment lanceleuven.
        Australia also has it’s fair share of ‘stupid’ sports such as the Henley-on-Todd ‘yacht’ race down the dry riverbed at Alice Springs in the outback.

        • I think I’ve seen that somewhere! No idea where but I’m sure I’ve seen footage. Glad to know you Ozzie’s are doing your bit to keep the insane exercising, fit and healthy too. Not sure if word of this has reached down under but the craziest one we have is arguably Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling. People get seriously hurt ,each to their own I suppose.

      • Excellent, Lance. I always love to find a GOF post when I start my day. I often laugh out loud. Literally.

  13. octuplets.- not really up to you, but you keep trying!

    • I’ve got more important things on my mind right now FD……a man can’t bog-snorkel and procreate octuplets at the same time.

  14. Hello, hello!!! I missed out on all this great fun. My computer expired and I finally have a newer faster one up and running.
    I laughed so hard at this post that my coughing came back. I was just getting over the coughing, so thank you for that. 😉

    I really truly did think that you said “BLog Snorkeling”. I did think I could snorkel through the blogs with the best of them…but Bogs…..hmmm…..I never met a mud puddle that I didn’t like!
    Sign me up!

  15. *chortle* Tammy Faye Baker.


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