Sunday, May 4, 2008

I dream of TOFOG

The latest project of Russ La Roq, or 'Russell Crowe' as the New Zealander folk singer has since become known in a bid to have his name associated with gifted cricketer Martin Crowe, is one of his most reviled. No, I'm not talking about The South Sydney Rabbitohs. Improbably, they are still popular. And hey, maybe with good reason. They actually won a game this season. That makes them.... not quite as bad as they were when he first bought them.

But, no, the Russell Crowe project I spoke of was... TOFOG.

The rock, or Roq, band that people fear even to listen to as they know it will be like the garage band they were in in highschool. But worse. They're probably right, but I can't vouchsafe anything, given that I listen to nothing but Phil Collins' I Can't Dance on loop for 20 hours a day. It's a medical condition. Like that orc dude in Torchwood but less scary and more homosexual.

The remarkable thing about TOFOG is the way that the actual acronym has changed seamlessly. From, of course, "Thirty Odd Foot of Grunt", which does not bring any homoerotic imagery to mind at all, no sir, to "The Ordinary Fear of God". I have to admire the way that the cumbersome initials are upheld, and the new name sounds just as jock-y and braindead as the old one!

This train of thought led me to an amusing way to spend ten minutes or so... coming up with as many possible future names for TOFOG as possible.

The Ottoman Forges Odd Grieves

Three Overwhelmingly Fugly, Ostentatious Gonads

Try Ostler's Foggy Old Greenhouse

Tea's On Foster's Ovulating Grandma

Till Ocelots Forget Ood-Gate

Trim Oysters, Fergie's On Gear

The Thirtieth Oddballs, Faggots, and Ombudsmen Gathering

Telekinetically Obfuscated Fundamentalist Omnivore Gits

Tchaikovsky Owes Fucking Oodillions in Groceries

The Ood, Fantabulous Ood Golddiggers

Tremble, Odyssey Framed Outpast Gallifrey!

To Originate From Overseas - Grievous

Tuffalo Offalo Fuffalo Offalo Guffalo

1 comment:

Youth of Australia said...


I wish I was that good at words.

I loved "Tchaikovsky Owes Fucking Oodillions in Groceries". Because I fancy that it might be true.