How did we stumble on this? Obviously, as a world class free-flight magazine, Pie had a journalist down-under providing hi-tech coverage of the 2007 Worlds for our readers. We have been providing by-the-minute texts, blogged podcasts, podcasted blogs, 24x7 webcast video feeds, hourly spam-free email and GPRS video downloads for those readers on the move. During our many interviews, however, we began to detect subtle changes in some of our southern friends, things we'd never noticed before. They seemed less sure of themselves, less confident and more worried. And thinner.
Unfortunately, due to unforseen technical problems, Pie journalist Sven "Fumbler" Fredrikson was unable to continue his Worlds coverage, so we reassigned him to chasing up this, shall we say, more social story. Armed with only his broken mobile phone, a notepad and a pencil, he invited himself along to one of the weekly clinics held by the Australian Nation Association of Lazy Bastards.
After the meeting we had a quiet word with one of the participants, Josh McGoolie of Cairns, "Men are finding it difficult to be men these days", he said, "You know, it's just not like it used to be. In times gone by I used to be able to tell the cook to follow me in the Ute with a crate o' cold stubbies on the flatbed. Those were good days, let me tell you. Have you any idea how bloody marvelous it is to be dozing in the back with the dogs and a cold beer on the treck back home after a 200k epic. But these days mate, oh, sorry...". He had to stop, this was clearly an emotional moment for Josh, "Christ, I... I can't bring myself to say it. These days, I have to walk out."
He went on (and on) "It's just not right, I'm lost at sea mate. I don't know if I can carry on, I just hope these ANAL-Bastard Meetings can help me. I reckon it's all this bloody independant thinking, you know. I'm serious like, I've no bleedin idea if I can keep flyin. Have you ever been 100k into tiger country without your wife to bale you out? It's fuckin dangerous mate."
Now when you combine Oz and PG there's still only one name that springs to mind. That's right, Godless Windfree, the Ozzie cross-country hound, and rained-out competition organiser. So our intrepid reporter headed back to Vanilla, where Godless managed to spare us 10 seconds for an interview.
"Just fix the fuckin software", he shouted over our shoulder, "The Brits have got me by the nuts, the bloody Italians are all over us like flies on shit and the Swiss aren't speaking to anyone anymore. And no, do I look like I need to talk to a fuckin steward? Just tell 'em we've hardly started yet, and not to worry. If they insist, tell them that sending another one over is just going to make it worse. Oh, and tell Justin I like the Red one. Find Jeremy, and tell him Yes, but tell him not to say anything until tuesday. Oh, and if you see Peter, tell him the toilets are fine now, and send him some flowers or something".
"Sorry, old chap, where were we?", he continued, "Oh yes, equality. Good lord, I don't know what all the fuss is about, anyone with a half decent education treats a woman in a polite and respectful manner. To be honest, you know, girls take up an awful lot of time anyway and I have found they interfere with my training. Besides, old chap, I'm a comp pilot and we organise retrieves as a team before we arrive. Sorry got to dash."
Right. It looks like the whole country has gone to the dogs, even the weather.
Pie in the Sky
Funnier than the 1947 "Chuck Yeager Speed Camera" photos
Funnier than the 1947 "Chuck Yeager Speed Camera" photos