Orange Juice & Ryvita

Food, politics, underemployment and the consumption of time and leisure

Author Liam Hogan

  • Link: Executed Today

    BY THE WAY, AND SPEAKING OF 1994, if you aren’t reading Executed Today you’re missing out.

    Beavers may have embraced death, but that didn’t make him immune to the pleasures of the flesh.

    Last meal request: Six pieces of french toast with syrup, jelly, butter, six barbecued spare ribs, six pieces of well-burned bacon, four scrambled eggs, five well-cooked sausage patties, french fries with ketchup, three slices of cheese, two pieces of yellow cake with chocolate fudge icing, and four cartons of milk...

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  • Quick Post: I'm Gonna Treat Ya To A Bruschetta Double Feature

    IN 1994, ROBERTO BAGGIO OF Italy mistook the crossbar for a highbar, and history was made. In Petersham, my friend Salv cried, Norton Street mourned, little Portugal on Stanmore Road cheered, and a larger bunch of high school kids learned lots of new non-English swear words from the cars passing by. Tu e la tua razza va f’an… what?

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  • Embrace Labor's Delight

    SO THE PRIME MINISTER MADE a speech. As speeches go, it’s not actually that bad, speaking as someone who’s drafted notes for a few of them. Addresses the topic, makes some good noises, intelligently mentions the subject of the speech, isn’t boring. And since it seems to address precisely the experiment I’m taking with my life for the next little while, that of not entirely working, and doing some study, it’s of particular interest.

    To my mind it comes across a little bit too much as the Nightride bus of meaning, which has had to endure the 11pm-4am shift of habitual language, and has had the suffering drunks of pandering to the press gallery vomit half-digested cliché all over the back seats. Sure, it gets you where you want to go—but then you want to brush your teeth and have a shower. If think if I read the phrase “forwards not backwards” again I’ll go out and throw myself under a vehicular unit of public transport infrastructure. The front end, not the back end.

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  • Skippy Felafel

    I’VE JUST PUT A TEAM together of your 17-year-olds who’ll be sick of living up in the land of the falafel in western Sydney playing in front of a 12,000-seat stadium that’s still not put up…

    That was Eddie McGuire, Collingwood’s house ghost, describing the alluring attractions of earning a high income and playing football in Western Sydney.

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  • Political Quickie: Sartor vs. Obeid, Centre Unity Ultimate Fighting

    FRANK SARTOR’S OPEN LETTER to his brother begins thus:

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  • If You Can't Stand The Workplace, Get Back In The Kitchen

    IF YOU ARE READING THIS now, it means I have been made unemployed, and I am an unemployee.

    You’re probably also wondering about the odd title for this blog…

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