Let me explain bagsies Kirk.
To 'bagsies', 'bagseye' or (presumably the progenitor term) 'bags I' something is to stake a claim on it, especially when choosing from a selection. Specifically used in English children's games of make-believe to choose your favourite character. Got that? Right, I can go on.
In the Shatner-era Star Trek episodes, he would frequently get into a fight with some saboteur, brain-washed compatriot or alien interloper. Even though there was apparently an inexhaustible supply of security officers there to prevent this kind of thing from happening. Regardless of how these mano-a-mano bouts came to be - they would always be settled with Kirk having a tear at the neckline of his tunic and a little bit of a cut on his face. No more injured than the average old lady wrestling for a cracked teapot with her best friend at a jumble sale.
In any fight, be it knife, gun or fisticuffs - I'd like to bagsies Kirk. The tailoring repairs may get a little costly, but you'll never see me on life-support weakly asking all the relatives I've pissed off over the years for that kidney they weren't using. If this works on the individual level then maybe, just maybe, we can scale it up.
Chess is apparently a symbolic representation of war. Well, if a lengthy game like chess can sit in place of horrific bloodshed and destruction, then why not Bagsies Kirk? I see all the members of the United Nations filing in to sit at their little desks, behind their little nameplates. They make sure their translator can be heard and then they - as one man - cry BAGSIES KIRK! - tear their necklines slightly and nick their cheeks with a pair of UN branded nail scissors. Plasters are on hand of course, and to speed things up they all have velcro fastenings on their clothing.
Hey Presto! The business of keeping the peace is concluded and it's still only ten past fucking nine in the morning.
Everyone can go and have some cakes or buy the wife a present or something.
[The only downside to this is that I may at some time have to engage in a disturbingly homoerotic duel with Ricardo Montalban. I suppose that's the price you pay for assured safety in today's angry, violent world.]
Nothing serious to stick in this bit this time around. Apparently there's been some sort of world financial collapse or something; and some little country is having an election. Well Great Grandpa Magnetite made sure we would all be taken care of when he installed hydroelectrics in 1899 - and I've never voted on anything more important than the names of the pets on Blue Peter. 'Fucking Cunt Cat' never got picked, to my eternal disappointment.
Anyway, I've noticed that almost everyone else links to shit on the Intertubeweb instead of coming up with their own crap to spout about - so I'm going to see just how good the suspension on that particular bandwagon is. Here's a link to an early Woody Allen stand-up routine in which he shoots a moose. This may even be topical in some twisted way. Don't expect it to fucking happen again.
[That's right - keep voting me down on Humor-blogs.com - it only fucking encourages me]
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