Pat Raw: The Musical

by Haught 1 Comment

TramThe last installment of the Pat Raw Chronicles ended with Haught fan Julianne Rice suggesting that it was “only a matter of time before Agatha stands and sings a melancholic solo after which her fellow commuters will leap to their feet in an energetic choral and acrobatic display. Pat Raw: The Musical.”

This inspired me. It inspired me even more than my own erotic fiction inspires me. It inspired me more than watching 1990s Bush Tucker Man inspires me. It inspired me more than steam trains on trestle bridges inspire me.

So I wrote a song for Agatha, based on a song from Les Miserables. I posted it on Facebook and then about seven seconds later the  excessively talented Kristy McKenzie sent me her version. Anyway, see and hear for yourself…

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The Pat Raw Chronicles (cont’d)

Koala PatIf you’re new to Haught and haven’t yet got onto the official Haught Facebook page, you might not know who Pat Raw is. This makes you either very fortunate or very unfortunate, depending on how much you enjoy hearing about others’ bowel movements, D-grade sporting achievements and sex lives.

You can find out all about him by having a squizz at my introduction to Pat from August.

If you are familiar with Pat, but haven’t been keeping up with his latest hijinks, here are the highlights from August til the end of November, taken directly from Facebook:

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The Marshall Plan

A great injustice is taking place as you read this.

Sam Marshall – the man who single-handedly turned Haught from an amusing, enlightening, superbly-written but mostly unknown blog into the world’s most trusted source of news, opinion, erotica, relationship and career advice, digital literature, sporting commentary, public transport policy discussion and Grape Men updates – is without work.

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THE RESPONSE: My email to Yarra Trams

You may have noticed by now that I believe sarcasm is the second highest form of wit (lavatory humour being the first). Today, however, I write without even the slightest hint of it.

You may remember a few weeks ago I posted an email I had sent to this mob:

If you didn’t catch it, you can read it here.

I write the emails I send to well-known people and organisations, imagining very different reception scenarios. In the case of the Jim Beam email, for instance, I imagined a chimpanzee being slightly surprised by the noise of the email chime, making a little noise of distress, then (inexpertly) pressing the delete button with his long index finger, just like he’d been taught to.

In the case of the email I once sent to Kyle Sandilands, I imagined Jackie O phonetically reading the email on a tablet computer out loud from the side of a pool in which Kyle was lolling, and giving up after the second paragraph (and the fifteenth time Kyle called her a “dumb, illiterate moll”).

In the case of the email I once sent to Margaret Court, I imagined Margaret herself hissing at the screen and then escaping into the night through the window in the form of a bat.… Read the rest

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