Purveyors of fine sarcasm

Who is haught?

Who is Haught?

Actually, the better first question is what is haught.

This is haught:

Haught (Roy and HG)


It’s haught as exhibited by Russian gymnast Alexei Nemov after learning he’d won a gold medal at the Sydney Olympics. (That’s a pretty grainy screenshot of a YouTube video – here’s a clearer picture of Nemov in post-gold pose mode.)

If Nemov sounds or looks familiar, it might be because you were older than 12 and residing in Australia in the year 2000. If that’s the case, there’s a fair chance you know about and even watched The Dream, the late-night piss-take show presented by Roy and HG on Channel 7 after each day’s athletic events.

It was on this program that Roy and HG gave their now-famous alternative commentary to events like weightlifting, diving and gymnastics. And it was in the gymnastics that they introduced us to maneuvers such as the “crazy date”, “hello boys”, the “flat bag”, the “Dutch wink” and the “battered sav”.

As an 18 year-old, on holiday in my final year of school, I watched enraptured every night.

Roy and HG taught me many things: that sarcasm doesn’t have to be the lowest form of wit; that very fine lavatory humour can hold its own against any other type of well-delivered humour; that you could tell a lot about a person (particularly a famous one) from how they responded to ludicrous questions aimed at embarrassing or ridiculing them (i.e. how seriously they took themselves).

And they taught me the word “haught”.

Here’s the only video I could find of their gymnastics commentary. If you watch to the very end, you’ll see Nemov begin to flamboyantly play for the cameras and the crowd. Roy interrupts HG’s concluding thoughts with a disbelieving guffaw and the immortal words “Oh-ho! HAUGHT!”

And so a legend was born.

Who is Haught?

OK, so now to the question of who Haught is.

Haught is a curmudgeon despite being in his early 30s.

Haught likes writing emails – especially to bullshit artists, bullies and buffoons.

Haught writes a weekly column in the MyCareer section of The Age and the Sydney Morning Herald – much of it is shameful plagiarism.

Haught goes out of his way to pat cats. He likes ice cream, going clubbing, The Bush Tucker Mansteam trains and Monkey (Magic).

Haught never misses an opportunity to mention lavatories.

Haught once worked at Smorgy’s Burwood (the one with the billowing volcano).

Haught is a soon-to-be award winning writer of erotic literature and an expert on office dating. He is also well-versed in the art of writing mission statements.

Although Haught hates bigotry and boorishness, he is not averse to viciously persecuting minorities when the circumstances are right.

Haught was once briefly very slightly famous (mainly thanks to the genius of former Yarra Trams employee, Sam Marshall).

If the stories and accounts you read on these pages sounds far-fetched, it is because Haught has lived a rich, kaleidoscopic life, replete with encounters that stretch the outer membrane of believability to near-breaking point and acquaintances living astride the boundary dividing Real Life and Cartoons.


  1. I came across your blog, courtesy of The Age and your email exchange with Sam at Yarra Trams.

    Your humourous writing style is hilarious. I can’t stop laughing.

    Keep up the good work!


  2. I wrote a letter to George Clooney once, outlining all the reasons why we should be friends. No reply. I think it must have got lost in the mail… :'(

  3. I think you seriously underestimate the importance of corporate crap. If every word in the corporate world were meaningful, how many brain cells and how much energy would be consumed with digesting so much verbage. One simply couldn’t cope. Leave me some corporate twadle that I may reside in peace, content that each one of them will revolutionise my life- uniquely, distinctly and in a mass marketing sort of way.

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