Would you do Shane Warne?

After a day of "Death by Arial 10 Pitch Black", staring at a screen trying to remediate the documentation around a forty-year-old COBOL based Payments system from 9 a.m., I finally submitted my document for feedback at 5.59 p.m. yesterday afternoon. After a few weeks like this, a girl needs a bit of respite. Meeting Jonella for lunch did help break up the day - the rest of it was rather woeful until I walked out the door of Bastard Bank and headed for book group.

Firstly, walking to book group after work I was passed by a group of Hare Krishnas.

The Hare Krishnas always make me smile. They always look so happy, dancing around the streets, clapping and singing. And you have to really like their songs! It's hard to to stuff up the words. Nah, coming out of work today, part of me wanted to join the Hare Krishnas as they made their way down William Street.

I've joined the Hares on their way through the streets in the past for a few minutes, dancing with them in my business suit, handbag flying, singing along with gay abandon. They were a lovely few minutes, before the leader of the group spotted me and shooed me on my way. Even better, I wasn't in any way inebriated. You should try it some time!

Once at book group, things got decidedly better. A glass of sauvignon blanc, some dinner and some wonderful conversation helped revive the spirits.

As it always happens with book group, things went off topic over dinner. Somehow, the conversation drifted from the book to the topic of Shane Warne. How this happened I'm not sure. Something about growing up poor and Elizabeth Hurley and coming from impoverished backgrounds - the novel we read was set in Southern Italy in the 80's.

"Oh, you know - some people just do things for money. Look at Liz Hurley and Shane Warne. They're a nice couple. Lots of money." Blarney piped up.

My roasted chicken breast in proscuitto wasn't looking as nice all of a sudden. There was a collective groan from the table.

"Ew!" groaned Georgie.
"Yuck!" growled Merijn.
"He looks like he's been dipped in fanta." I added.
"I don't think he's that bad. Lots of women think he's alright." said Blarney.
"Must be Blind Freddy's sister to think he's okay. He's dreadful. I'm enduring an endless four year dry spell - I'd rather stay celibate!" I retorted.


A girl has to have her standards...

Quite a bit of conversation followed. It appears the book group has similar taste in men.

There are just some men who the proverbial very long barge pole would not be long enough to touch them with. Shane Warne, it appears, is one of those men.

Some women, and I really have no idea who they are, find this rather effective spin bowler attractive. I can't see it. Most of my book group can't see it, but these women are allegedly out there - Sharon Strzlecki being one of them. (The netballer from Kath and Kim...)

I had a similar conversation a few weeks ago where a friend was saying that women threw themselves at Warnie. I'm not sure I would piss on him if he was on fire - okay, that's a bit strong, I'd throw a bucket of water on him out of human decency. But though of making love to Shane Warne. Sorry. Nup. Turns the stomach.

I know that I have rather dodgy taste in men, as I've written about before. I know that people have different tastes in men - I can see in the attraction in the "sexy ugly man" such as Steve Buscemi, Benecio Del Toro, Gerard Depardieu (before he found the good paddock) - or my favorite drool inducer - Javier Bardem (Placed directly in the bath with Clive Owen - FILTHY - in a very, very good way - oh there's an image :P )

The conversation continued the next morning at work. Arabella, who is currently sitting next to me is five months pregnant and fully hormonal and always up for a giggle. I told her of this conversation and she agreed. Shane Warne. Sorry - nope. Other than he looks like an elongated oompa loompa, his teeth covered in white out and we all know about the hair plugs... Then there's the serial sleazy text messages, the numerous strange encounters with women... oh the list goes on. Would you really want to go there?

You don't know where he's really been...

There are just some men, who by rights, should be removed from the gene pool. Those where there isn't a long enough shitty stick with which you would ever deign to poke them. You have to wonder how some of these men became husbands and had children.

Then again, there is no accounting for some people's tastes or the anti-psychotic meds their doctors put them on...

Here are few of the names that got bandied about.

Enjoy.

Bob Katter

My step-father put it well. "It looks like he's had a shit sandwich stuck under his nose." Loopy, right wing politics aside, it's hard to find any redeeming features in Bob Katter. You know he's going to leave his hat on in bed, along with his socks - you just know it! (another complete turn off....) Probably had a special pillow made with an indent for his Akubra.

Bob Katter had to become a politician - what other profession would take on such a man? It's very hard to find any redeeming features in Bob Katter. Trin's response to his name was something the lines of "I'd rather root a dead roo." Hmm, maybe that's a bit extreme, but he really does have the sex appeal of three-day-old road kill.

Tony Abbott

I have been heard to say, on occasion, for a fifty-something bloke, Tony Abbott doesn't have a bad body. And fair dues - he doesn't. If you could cut off his head and remove his politics, I possibly could go there - that chest hair is divine - but this is my proclivity - don't expect everybody to understand this one. I just have a thing for hairy chests.

The real deal breakers, however. The speedos. Unless you're an Olympic swimmer or a ten year old boy, budgie smugglers are a no-no. Sorry Tony, I know you're a triathlete, but still - NOT IN PUBLIC - cover yourself after your race! Dick stickers are just awful.

Banana hammocks aside (isn't amazing how many euphemisms there are for a humble pair of speedos!), the man has the most odious politics - he is a shining example of why have a separation between Church and State - I just wished he'd remember this more often. He's also backwards, homophobic and generally a complete nonce when it comes to forward thinking. Abbott just has to open his mouth and I want to shoot him. I sound like a bit of a chook farm when he comes on the telly. "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck OFF NOW, TONY!" is normally screamed at the box. Unfortunately, being leader of the opposition, he's on the small screen a lot.

Yelling at him when he's on the television is great - just like calling Telstra when you need an argument - strangely satisfying.

How he was allowed to breed, I'm still unsure. At least his daughters see him for what he is - a lame, daft, churchy loser.

Lleyton Hewitt

Lleyton Hewitt reminds me of the many reasons I left Adelaide - some twenty years ago today (Happy Anniversary, Pand). He gives men from Adelaide a bad name. Tosser. Can't quite put my finger on it - maybe it's the arrogance - or maybe it's just the fact that he's a wanker.


Vladimir Putin

Okay, what is this one out to prove? Why does he take every opportunity to take his shirt off for photo opportunities. He's the leader of the ex-Soviet Union. What right has he got to go shirtless in waders, in Siberia, for the press? Is he out to prove his manliness? John Howard never did this (can you imagine!). This on smacks of FIGJAM. FIGJAM - a lovely acronym for "F*ck I'm good, just ask me. Slightly more worrying is that he has the codes for a hell of a lot of nuclear weapons. Like Tony Abbott - keep your clothes on, please. You may be clever and powerful, but you're not that pretty. (Pale is not always interesting)

Wayne Carey

The Shane Warne of AFL - dear Wayne has moved to Adelaide and gone all quiet. However in the nineties and noughties he was known about town as a bit of a ladies' man. Like Shane Warne, he has that "I don't know what it is but I don't want to go there" look about him. Maybe it's the blonde thing. Maybe it's the fact that he got paid exhorbidant amounts of money to play football and we're envious. There is that "je ne sais quoi" about Wayne Carey that would have me running a mile very quickly in the other direction if he came near me. I have it from sources that he had a lovely body - I'm sure he does/did.

Some could say that there is this country boy charm about him being from Wagga Wagga and all - little do they know what country boys can get up to given the opportunity can get up to (from very limited experience, all enthusiam with little finesse) A masonic friend of mine, a Kangaroos stalwart, reckons that he's a right sweetie - but she's old enough to be his grandmother. Sorry Wayne - like Shane, you're a bit of a no-go area. Besides - being front page news that you shagged your best mate's wife. Deal breaker then and there.

Indiscretion is only tolerable if you're very, very discrete about it.

Andrew Bolt

Oh, where do I start with this one?

Like Tony Abbott, the dreadful right-wing politics, the "I'm so up myself they have to showcase me on a Sunday morning when there should be cartoons on the television" attitude (Is Channel Nine trying to corrupt young children or does Bolt have something very nasty on James Packer and Kym Gyngell - I wonder which one it is?). This man opens his mouth and it's a complete and total passion killer. Besides the fact that he's a crap journalist as proved in open court only last week, there are many, many things that one can take offence with over Andrew Bolt.

Just ask my friend Kath. She LOVES Andrew Bolt... (see the comments in a day or so)

It appears sex appeal and attitude go hand in hand. Hmmm.


Warwick Capper

Oh dear. Warwick Capper. They still wheel him out for reality television shows. I think he goes in the "No idea where he's been, really can't see why I'd want to go there" pile. By his own admission he's cheap and easy. He breaks to of my very firm laws of remotely attractive men. 1) Always disregard anybody who still has a mullet - why would you sleep with anybody with a mullet? The reasoning of up front for action, out back for fun really doesn't relate to hair - it was meant for something else about three foot lower down. Pity nobody told him this. And 2) Men in gold lame? No way! Sorry - that's the realm of aging Eurotrash playboys. Why would a Stop/Slow man from the Gold Coast do that to himself?

Underneath the leopard skin and the gold short-shorts he might be a nice fellow.

Just wouldn't shag him if he was the last man on earth.

Russell Crowe



Our Russell is welcome to go back to New Zealand any time he likes.

In my list of men I'm quite fond of, Kiwis normally rate highly (Jermaine from Flight of the Conchords, Munter from Outrageous Fortune, The All Blacks - PHWOAR!).

Not this one.

Comes down to attitude once again. Attitude and the fact that he's a Rabbitohs supporter.

Too arrogant. Allegedly sings in a band that never should have been recorded. Next.

James Packer



Might be okay if he had a paper bag over his head. Don't care if he's rich. I take exception to the fact that he's concentrated his business interests in the gaming industry. Not pretty. Certainly somebody I wouldn't go near no matter how much money he had.

I have nothing against physically unattractive men  - I can't cast stones - I'm no oil painting - but being really honest, if a bloke is kind and warm and decent who cares what he looks like.

James Packer's attitude that disturbs me more.

The fact that he looks a bit like a desicated lizard, just like his father - that doesn't help.

John Howard



I'm still of the firm opinion that John Howard is the least attractive man on the planet. The track suit - worn in over 50 countries. The eyebrows - that he never let his barber trim. The glasses that went out of fashion twenty years ago.

Like Tony Abbott and Andrew Bolt - it's all in the attitude. Go to Parliament House in Canberra - there is a lovely portrait of him with his arm around Jeanette - with that grin of 'She's mine!' Lucky John! Even luckier Jeanette.

She can have him.

I'm sure if there were bloggers thirty years ago when Howard was an up and coming back bencher, there would a blogger out there saying exactly the same things about Little Johnnie as I've extolled about Tony Abbott.

And that has passed a rather pleasant lunch time.

Have I missed anybody? Karl Stefanovic was left off the list as he does have the ability to occasionally take the piss out of himself. Sam Newman was left off because there just aren't the adjectives. There are plenty more out there - these are just my stand outs.

Pandx