It’s been a long time coming, but soon Australia’ s messiest bachelor will be receiving the glory he deserves. Preliminary judging has begun in order to decide who gets through the heats. However, entries are still being accepted. So if you live next door to a pathetic bachelor who doesn’t seem to be coping, here’s your chance to give him the exposure he so desperately craves!

The judging panel is comprised of a Bacteriologist, a member of the Department of Health and Welfare, a Gastroenterologist, and one very disapproving cleaning Nazi Mother. And already the quality of entrants has impressed/ horrified them. One of the early heat winners, Myron Buckster of Southport in Queensland, caught the eye of all our judges.

“Myron,” said an awestruck Mr. Pendleton (Bacteriologist), “has bacteria that hasn’t just gained sentience, it’s got its own political system!” Of Mr. Buckster’s squalor Ms. Jones-Forsythe (Health & Welfare) commented, “The degradation of some of the grime I found can only be measured by its half-life! It’s so toxic it even kills the vermin!” Myron told the Yowie he has been approached by representatives of U.S. Energy in relation to accepting nuclear waste.

Myron doesn’t have the title of Australia’s Messiest Bachelor in the bag quite yet. “Willie Gomez of Rockhampton,” says Mrs. Dorter (disapproving Mother) had mess in his lounge room that obscured several burnt-out car wrecks. Police have asked to inspect his ‘junk’ room, fearing it might be a Mafia dumping ground.” Gerald Simpkins (Gasteroenterologist) was astonished at the vitality of hitherto unknown strains of E Coli in Mr. Gomez’s toilet. “I left a bottle of hospital grade detergent in the toilet overnight. By morning it’d been consumed! That’s verging on being a biological weapon!”

Mr. Brown of Cairns has a fridge described by Mrs. Dorter as “a chamber of horrors. You can actually contact the stench through a Oiji Board. It’ll respond!” City Counselors have long tried to evict Mr. Brown from his premises. But no public servants will approach the residence. In fact our judges demanded they be issued with asbestos suits before entering the building. “I never imagined any animal capable of such neglect,” said Mr. Pendleton, “Rumors from Cairns City Hall whisper of strategic bombing plans. But no one was talking to the Yowie.

This is only a small sample of entrants in the first round. Please contact the Yowie should you have any bachelors you wish to enter.

1. Are you using the right remote? Check that you’re not opening and closing your garage door in your attempts to change the TV channel.
2. Is the a radiation storm or thermonuclear strike on? Either of these will interfere with the signal sent by the remote to the TV.
3. Have you used the remote to swat a cockeroach? Impact damage counts for a large proportion of remote failures.
4. Is your remote sentient? Perhaps this newly evolved lifeform is playing a joke on you.
5. Are your fingers are too fat for the keypad? The majority of today’s remotes are manufactured in countries whose populations are noticeably thinner than our own.
6. Is your TV turned on?
7. Is your remote an instrument of the Devil? Do newsreaders speak in tongues? Do commercials offer to buy your soul? ? Does the remote weep blood or spew fire?
8. Have you been sent back in time? Metaphysicians are unsure if technology will function in a time unable to support it. Warranty definitely won’t cover this.
9. Have you used the remote (instead of a stick) to play ‘fetch’ with your dog?
10. Are you underwater? The density of water adversely affects the efficacy of the remote’s signal.

Remember, it is the purpose of all inanimate objects to thwart you in whatever way they can. It’s not your fault. It’s the fault of the technology.

Lots of complaints since the last article ‘You’re confusing pants with dresses Nigel!’ says some angry crossdressing P.C. accuracy Nazi.’’Loincloths, Gladiatorial skirts, Kilts and Caftans are NOT pants,’ writes another self-absorbed Yowie-writer-wannabe. ‘I don’t want to know where you shop for clothes Nigel. But you sound a little confused.’ Doesn’t deserve comment really.

Are you ALL idiots?!

Ok, these are not, strictly speaking, pants. I used these to illustrate the history and growth of the Scary Pants Phenomenon. Background is essential people. Try and think a bit laterally, alright.

The apparel used in my previous article spawned such horrors as:

1930’s, Jodhpurs. World War war brewing. Jodhpurs: tasteless, shapeless, an affront to every clothed creature on the planet. Jodhpurs were the convergence between skirts and pants. See where I’m going now? Jodhpurs were fifty years ahead of the unisex revolution. And seventy years before the metrosexual look. A little known fact is that Jodhpurs were originally used as catheters by chronic overeaters Always wondered about that bulge around the hips didn’t you? Not only hideous, gender neutral, and misshapen Jodhpurs assailed their wearer’s opponents with smell.

1940’s, Stovepipes. Now we’re in the realm of scary pants pure and true. Stovepipes turned regular men into straight legged, toy soldier clones. Precisely what the times called for (WWII). Only a sartorial masterstroke could halt the fat arsed Nazi ubermensch waddling through Europe in their Jodhpurs. A fashion holocaust needed a fashion A Bomb. And Stovepipes were just that.

1950’s, Bellbottoms. The Cold War was inevitable really.

I’m not going to detail everything. Rest assured, atrocities in history are accompanied by atrocities in fashion. By now you should be able to see where I am going with this. So let me tell the story, okay?. Trust me.

Scary pants. The mark of civilization or the measure of barbarity?

The scariness of pants has always provided a yardstick of the times: Ancient cavemen frightened friends and enemies alike in their feeble loincloths. This was in the time before the advantages of scary pants were fully known. The scariness of loincloths was not by deliberate design. It either worked or it didn’t.

Gladiators in Ancient Rome improved upon loincloths and were the first to see the incalcuable benefits of wearing scary pants. They hit upon the idea of wearing leather straps hanging from a belt. This design allowed them to distract their opponents in the Gladiatorial Ring by flashing their wangers at them during the heat of battle.

The Gladiatorial ‘skirt’ found a medievil form in the Scottish kilt (now this puts the willies up me). Scary pants had hit a high point. Rather than flashing in the heat of battle, Scottish warriors would raise their kilts before attacking and shake their goolies at the enemy. Opponents, if they didn’t run away immediately, would, rightly, be afraid of another goolie shaking. Thereby distracting them from the battle at hand.

So you can see how the scariness of pants contributed a significant strategic value to men of all times and places. It is no different today.

Remember the Hard Yakka shorts of the eighties? Mortifying weren’t they. These shorts were the product of the Cold War. A time when ‘Mutually Assured Destruction’ seemed to put the Superpowers at a stalemate. However, private enterprise came to Jimmy Carter’s rescue. And the Hard Yakka shorts so terrified the Soviets that Glastnost was inevitable.

Look at the TV any night and you’ll see the horrors of modern warfare mirrored in pants. Terrorists are so called, not because they blow people up but, because they wear those funny kaftans in stifling deserts. There is something deeply wrong with this. The hotter it is, the less you wear. The apparent contradiction in the Middle East is designed to throw westerners off-balance. Just like scary pants should.

And consider this: In the Jewish slums of medievil Europe Jews would tip each other off when danger threatened. Everyone loved to burn Jews. So when someone got wind of who was to be chained to the bonfire they would warn the person by code: the number ‘501’ meant ‘fire’. Today the Levi (a good Jewish name) Jeans marquee product is Levis 501. Coincidence? I think not. Scary pants? Well, just look at the Israeli army today. Nobody fucks with them.

When it comes to fighting and scary pants no one, but no one, can top the Japanese. Whatever twisted mind hatched the idea of putting 250kg men in diapers is a Machiavellian genius. That’s why Sumo in single, unarmed combat are acknowledged as preminent among all fighting styles.

Okay. Now you fully understand the level at which war is, and has always been, fought. How do you defend yourself?

That, Oh Reader Mine, is an article for another time …

Uproar has emerged from an Australian Navy admission this week. Female Officers, it was said, have been receiving breast enlargements at taxpayer expense. Navy Doctors claim their patients required surgery after being diagnosed with depression. “The Australian Defense Force is dominated by a macho culture. Women, especially women in positions of authority, have their femininity constantly challenged in such an environment. This constant pressure has to take its toll,” said a Defense Force Spokesperson today. “Cosmetic surgery has definitely alleviated these problems. The women feel better because of it, the macho culture has been forced to make way for a feminine influence, and morale is going through the roof!”

But there are deeper issues here. What does it say about the mental toughness of women in the Defense Forces? If peacetime innuendo depresses them how would they fare with combat casualties? Why did they go into this obviously macho culture if they knew it would adversely affect them?

However, in many ways these questions are beside the point. The fact of the matter remains: All the Officers who have received breast augmentation have recovered from their depression. They are more confident in themselves. Which leads to better decision making and a more harmonious organization.

One wonders if giving male Officers penis enlargements would do away with the need for Defense Forces altogether?