The flying flag design has been featured on the generator blog today. Thanks Gerard! Other fun links on the generator blog today: makemebabies.com, for making a wild guess at what the baby of two parents would look like, and the lazy blogger post generator, which creates gems like this:

OMG! I just got a bajillion whiny emails saying I have not updated this since Hammertime was in the charts… You would not believe the amount of people that are totally stalking me. I prostrate myself in sorrow and beg thy forgiveness..

I am absolutely consumed with setting fire to people wearing Crocs, learning to speak Japanese, just generally being an embarrassment to society in general, my day is filled with fluorescent light from the second I am woken by murderous Teletubbies to I run out of alcohol. I am not being a whinging Pom or anything. as well you should know.

I swear on the bones of my ancestors I will try to remember my blog password more often in future. Truly! This is for my ever faithful, devoted public..

Looks like our site is in good company. Well, company.

Two true stories (apart from names) both founded on the fact that Australians speak funny, strewth.

Bob is an American who married a Basque woman, and now lives with her in Spain in the Basque country.  One day, he walks into a bar, and runs into a rowdy gaggle of Australian guys.  He asks them what brought them to this part of the world. They shout enthusiastically, “we’re here for the wives, mate, the wives.”  He’s a bit surprised at this, but figures that that’s why he’s there himself, so why not?  Only towards the end of a mutually enjoyable conversation, which in retrospect was entirely at cross-purposes, does it become clear that they’re actually surfers, there for the “waves”.

At the same time as all this was happening, an entirely different group of Australians were busy drinking outside an entirely different bar in Italy.  As the group got merrier and merrier, they wanted to spread their sweetness and light to the locals by toasting them, but couldn’t making themselves understood.  They button-holed a likely-looking passerby, and loudly demanded of him “HERE MATE, HOW DO YOU SAY CHEERS?”  The man looked at them blankly, so they spoke more loudly and slowly “CHEERS … HOW … YOU … SAY … CHEERS?  CHEERS?”  Finally the man’s face lit up, and he told them the magic word.  They thanked him, and he nodded politely and scurried off, obviously glad to escape the crazy foreigners.  The Australians spent that night and the remainder of their vacation boisterously toasting their host country with their new found vocabulary.  Only on the flight home, in conversation with a bilingual fellow traveler, did they figure out that “FORMAGGIO!” (”cheese”) was not in fact exactly the word they’d been looking for.

Cheese mate!  Enjoy the wives!