Christina Aguilera:
Some dead-eyed child bride
Has learnt to dance
BFW
Sisqo: One pack of vicious blacks
hates another.
BFW
Moby: A geography teacher
Bought a blues record.
BFW
Radiohead: Redefining the very idiom
That is modern music.
BFW
Psy-trance. Big Beat. Prog House.
Old Skool. Hard house.
Nu-skool breaks:
BFW
London: The 500 most snooty people
Think something's important.
BFW
Acting in a movie: Walk to the mark. Say the line.
Do it again.
BFW
Video clips: The revolving moose-head shot
Cost quarter of a mil.
BFW
Pay T.V: Gilligan's Island. Rugby.
Gilligan's Island again.
BFW
The Internet: More crap at your fingertips
Than on them.
BFW

Big Fucking Whoopee.

Georgio Armani: Makes dresses.
Makes more dresses.
BFW
The Queen Mother: Fucked the right guy.
Lots of money. Drunkard.
BFW
Vegans: Deeply committed people.
Better than you than me.
BFW
Stock market: Lots of guys with rat-cunning,
Ripping each other off.
BFW
BMW: You hop in this car,
Then you drive it.
BFW

Drive it! Drive!

Big Fucking Whoopee.

You wanna know about Big Fucking Whoopee?
Let me tell you about Big Fucking Whoopee
Skateboardin' that's Big Fucking Whoopee
Finnegans Wake, BFW
That long-haired choreographer on Pop Stars who looks like the Paddle Pop Lion
And who was just so lovin' being on camera and getting the chance to bully a group of 20 year olds
BFW mate, in a big way

Fat Boy Slim Dusty

Chefs, especially celebrity chefs, but all chefs really. Good ones, I mean, the ones
with the snooty attitude who think, what this world really needs is another braised
quot quot in a rococo of cuscus. And people who like all that shit like John Hindle and
Claude Forrell and all those food critics

By Christ, when your life's specialty is forcing another morsel of over-glazed lamb shank
down your oily, globular, over-opinionated gullet, when, of all the things in the world
men are called to do. Of all the vocations of love and adventure. Of all the trials of
the emotions and amongst all the voyages of spirit mankind can embark upon, when, given
this whole universe of possible callings, the one you choose is to sit on your crapulent
crack and lazily whine about someone else's cooking, that's when you know you are at the
very acme of the BFW shit heap

Ian Forrester, BFW
Abstract Expressionism, BFW
BF - fucking - W to all of them
DVD players - till they can record - that's fucking BFW
Every article about feminism in the Age, BFW
Acland Street, Brunswick Street, I mean, you're still just walking up and down the fucking road. I can do that in fucking Rowville too
Fucking sick of this, BFW to the fucking lot of it, fucking BF fucking W

Actually, now I fucking talk about it, Teenagers are fucking BFW
Tai Bo, live theatre, all of which is fucking crap, the Grand Prix, golf
Mietta's death, tap dancin', harp playing, Federation, Cathy fucking Freeman
and every other fucking track and field athlete, BFW to the lot of ya

Tom and Nicole

Tom and Nicole Brown, I mean, whose parents moved into the house next door to ours for
six months, back when I was nine and I played with them after school for a while but I
never saw them again after their parents split up and they had to sell the house. That
Tom and Nicole, Tom and Nicole Brown are obviously BFW

Not the Tom and Nicole, whose similar marital troubles are terribly vital to me and us all

One thing I would like to know
Why is it [bleep] amongst groovers is all the go
But that same crew slag off Bardot
Who writes the songs, that's the thing
Any clotheshorse can learn to sing
[bleep]'s albums are eponymous but the songwriters stay anonymous
Naughty by Nature, the Back Street Boys, Boys 2 Men, who makes the noise?
Sisquo, Snoop Dog, less heard than seen
writing lyrics ain't nothing - except these I mean

Who are the ugly bastards hidden away
Who write the tunes that get air play
Listen [bleep] I don't want to trouble ya
But if you don't write the songs
B F W