Posts by Joe Wylie
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Shane Jones ("I'm a movie buff") could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he'd rented another film, namely a pretty good Australian movie, The Dish, starring Sam Neill.
Saw that. Bunch of endearing Aussie boofheads saving the day with No.8 wire and dumb luck, but I was left wondering what happened to the people who were smart enough to have built the dish itself.
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For you Joe Wylie, (I have 2 friends with the surname Wylie, they are off to England 2 moro) I am glad we have crossed paths and money has nothing to do with it. :)
Why thank you. Sadly enough I'm unable to claim acquaintance with any Bribiescas, but while I'm on it, perhaps you'd post a definitive guide to pronouncing your interesting name. My ignorance creates a little speed bump whenever I happen to scan it.
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. . . but I don't generally move in those circles and really, to want to know salaries is a bit gossippy/ trash mag, don't you think?
When you can't visit the dairy/gas station/supermarket without running across at least one billboard/magazine cover touting this week's trivia about Smuggy Buzzcut's contrived doings, all with his and TVNZ's obvious connivance, it seems a perfectly fair question.
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(Sometimes he can be a dick.)
If you look closely you can make it out.
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Hmm. Posted that before I read your comment Giovanni.
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Until a few years back the Listener ran a dry little column entitled (to the best of my recollection) Radio Review. The task of finding something interesting to say about commercial radio can't have been enviable. At least twice each year there'd be a piece about Paul Holmes, which invariably went I know you urban liberals can't stand the bastard, but as an industry insider I can tell you from my position of expertise that the man's a genuine talent. Here are further reasons why. Yawn, column inches filled.
Inside the enchanted circle of media pixie dust the failure of self-appointed elites to acknowledge Paul Henry's supposed talent may be a burning issue. In the light of common day, all that's apparent is that there's a ready market for ego-driven natural-born motormouths. Perhaps we also need reminding that, despite his godawful shortcomings, Tony Veitch was another of those jewels of nature.
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Or here.
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Growing up in South Taranaki . . . we went searching for a severed head reputedly thrown in a local river.
Ronald Hugh Morrieson really did capture something of the spirit of the place, then?
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Absofuckinawesomethingorotherlutely!
That'll learn them hairy-arsed sesquipebastardalians.