Sam Kekovich

"Slamming" Sam Kekovich saves the Aussie media business, by Greg Tingle

Folks, it's official..."Slamming" Sam Kekovich, from ABC The Fat and Radio 3AK breakfast radio co-cost, has saved the Australian media business from itself! Ok, not quite, but we got your attention! Sam certainly got ours.

Firstly, I have a confession to make...this piece is not intended to be a literally masterpiece in any way, shape or form. In fact, its somewhat of a "hack" in its current form. It was put together at 1.30am, some 6 hours to go before I am a guest on Sam (and Greg's Evan's) radio program.

Kekovich and Evans are "on the ball". They know that their radio program needs more hard edged, in your face types, and folks that are not afraid to speak out against the Australian media business, and pass on ideas that will help improve it.

What does Media Man Australia like about Sam? He's politically incorrect, brash and likes to "stick it up some folks". You know it makes sense what we are outlining here.

So, who is Sam? Slamming Sam Kekovich was the hard man of the VFL back when men were men and so were some of the women tennis players. Nothing moved on the North Melbourne half-back flank without his written permission!

Media Man Australia understand guest don't appear on Sam's radio program without his saying so. Your a smart man Sam.

"Sam has kicked on strongly and now shares his weekly wisdom with all those who needs help, and that's all of you."

Greg "Media Man" Tingle is delighted to pass on some of that wisdom to a growing national, and indeed, international audience.

Sam is heard on Melbourne airwaves weekdays from 5.30 to 8.30am. Just one of the highlights of the program is Talking Television with Peter Lawrence, where Media Man will liven things up, and make the program the talk of the town.

Slamming Sam, Greg Evans and Greg that would be the perfect trio! You know it makes sense. Media Man Australia continues to put your name out there.

Some classic stuff from "Slamming" Sam Kekovich

Ministerial responsibility - 7 October 2003

Does anyone remember the good old days? They were good weren’t they? Cabbage was plentiful, and cheap, and you could slap family members about when necessary without having half your life being frittered away in court.

Things are different now. We used to have a peculiar notion in government that ministers were responsible for the actions of their departments.

The current government has realised that a change is as good as a holiday and changed the rules and added a codicil which says that says that ministers are accountable unless nobody told them nothing.

John Milhouse Howard is a top bloke and has loads of friends. These friends have realised that things work best if they don’t ever speak to him. Accordingly, nobody told him about kiddies not being thrown overboard, about dodgy Iraqi evidence, about ethanol about Tony Abbott’s Hanson fund.

Instead of speaking to John they bought him a gift. It’s a sign that says ‘the buck stops here’ and there is an arrow clearly pointing straight out the door.

“Nobody told me” - It’s the phase of the age and marvellously useful. I can’t see any reason that it won’t work for all of us.

If you’re in court and things are looking a bit grim just wheel it out: “Nobody told me armed robbery was illegal,” and off to the pub you go.

If I’d thought of it a few years back I could have saved myself a bit of bother because I am almost certain that nobody told me that it was considered impolite to refer to Princess Diana at a public speaking engagement on the occasion of her funeral as a half-witted parasite.

Knowledge is a dangerous thing. I’m happy to go through life without any. If it’s good enough for John Howard, it’s good enough for me.

You know it makes sense.

I’m Sam Kekovich.

Lawyers - 15th July 2003

“Now that Gregory Peck is dead I’m willing to say that Tom Robinson was guilty as sin. Sure Peck was charming in To Kill A Mockingbird, but it was obvious if it wasn’t for his smarmy language and cunning use of legal loopholes Robinson would have got his just desserts.

“Lawyers on the whole, and without exception, are a bunch of money-grabbing self-aggrandising parasites more interested in propagating an archaic legal system than defending the rights of mums and dads on Struggle Street.

“I’ve recently learned that lawyers are barred from having sex with their clients for the simple reason that they can’t charge twice for the same service.

“Nine out of 10 decent Australians are entrapped in their lodgings, in fear of unfettered gangs of criminals looking for new and creative ways to spend the time they have had unexpectedly thrust on them by a soft cock legal system that prematurely ejects them from incarceration at every opportunity.

“The only reason for owning a four wheel drive is that barristers like riding bicycles.

“Criminals are poor and drug addled, with the possible exception of Rene Rivkin, which makes them bad credit risks. Of course the ones who aren’t bad credit risks are too bright to be caught, with the possible exception of Rene Rivkin.

“The sums are simple: successfully spend a month prosecuting a crack addicted pickpocket and go home with nothing; or sue a media commentator for a harmless jibe at the mores of a B-grade celebrity of no fixed talent, and be able to maintain the upkeep of the Beamer, the mistress and the holiday house in Portsea.

“But, as always, there are two sides to the story, and the overpaid, underachieving consuls of media organisations are so fearful of litigation they are advising that on-air talent say nothing except for mentioning the weather and the footy scores.

“And the result, as always, it’s the mums and dads on Cactus Cul-de-sac who suffer; their homes are encircled by bored gangs of violent reprobates and their entertainment polluted by armies of barely coherent strumpets and half-wits.

“Criminals are running amok and intelligent and free media commentary is all but dead. And who’s to blame? Lawyers.

“You know it makes sense.

“I’m Sam Kekovich.”


Australia is one of the ten driest continents on one of the most arid planets in the entire solar system and water is naturally a constant concern for those of us trying to make a living from the land.

Australia is an urban society, with most people clinging to the coastline, partly to escape dust storm debris coating the gardenias, and the stench of bush fires and rotting carcases, but mainly to be ready to fire pot shots at boat people. City folk simply don't understand how tough it is in the bush.

I've been farming the Great Sandy Desert for the past 30 years. I am a rice grower, and I am bloody good at it, but for reasons completely outside my control, I am yet to turn a profit.

The problem is lack of rain. To get the paddy fields viable I need at least 50 mm a day. I've been averaging just 2mm a year and it's not nearly enough. My reaping and threshing operations are world's best practice but I have been unable to plant any seeds up to this point.

Your typical Asian loves rice and I could shift it by the truckload if this cursed drought would only give me a chance.

Luckily whenever you shout cry "Drought' in a public place politicians and media personalities rush you with buckets of money. I have made millions buying cheap property in the desert and not growing rice on it. I am very proud that I own the largest rice field in the world and, thanks to Channel Nine and Alan Jones, one of the most profitable.

So I'm diversifying. Look out for Slamming Sam free-range quail, which I plan not to produce in a Collins Street office block.

You know it makes sense. I'm Sam Kekovich.

Legislation - 11 April 2003, 2003

I've never met a push bike rider I haven't wanted to punch in the face.

They are a bunch of lycra-d poseurs who think its their duty to bore everyone with gushing descriptions of ferro-titannium frames and reconstituted quail-egg forks.

Bicycle riding is the ultimate mid life cry for help & its flaccid men in flourescent tops and shaved legs, plastered with Italian brand names like il wanker and da poonce, coasting along in the middle lanes of
highways, shouting at passing cars what more do I have to do for you to run me over?

While everyone's looking the other way I urge this government to push through legislation to outlaw the scourge of the social cyclist, and cockney house painters.

I've never made it a secret that I don't like cockneys. I don't like cockney painters and I don't like cockney painters who after a fortnight of failing to finish the living room, say in their twee-ist accent sorry
guv, but theres no accounting for the weather. When you point out were in the middle of a drought and that the living room is, in fact, indoors, they shrug their fat pasty shoulders and whine 'we can only do what we do.'

The reality of modern diplomacy is that war only comes around every decade or so, and the government should take the opportunity to streamline the draconian laws that have kept businesses ham-strung and
courts overflowing. Changes to Medicare, Human Rights, Media Ownership are well overdue, and this government would be fools to themselves, and us, if they failed to push through as much legislation as quickly as possible in case the war comes to a premature end.

Good government isn't just about economics and law and order and what better time is there to be the panacea of society's ills?

Dentists, taxi drivers, real estate agents, toll collectors, academics, could all be whisked away with a couple of signatures. I know shes not Australian, but I'm sure you could get bi-partisan support that Renee Zellweger should never make another film.

You know it makes sense

Cliques - 16 May 2003

I have been accused of being negative.

Recently I presented a well thought out case that proved, beyond reasonable doubt, that lycra-wearing, road-hogging, middle-aged-men who spend weekends with their flaccid buttocks swamping padded seats, and their food-corrupted bodies being dragged along on reinforced titanium frames, were less preferable dinner companions than members of the former Iraqi regime.

A self-evident truth, one would think.

I've never received a fuller mailbag of self-righteous invective; all non-sensical and badly written; mostly in block letters with the pencil gripped so tightly that it punctured the page.

Little did I realise that apart from being a pathetic cry for attention, that donning a pair of nicks and hitting the road on a twelve thousand dollar pushbike was a public admission of not having a sense of
humour. It seems that everyone has to define themselves within a tribe.

Like, I am hip to the new generation, I know my way around a crack pipe; I can shotgun opium energy drinks with the best, and I, Sam Kekovich, am gender fluid, as long as there is no poofy stuff required, but I dont feel it necessary to have a tattoo on my forehead proclaiming me a member of generation twat

If we've been happy to accept multi-culturalism as a justification for eating Pad Thai, getting pissed on Glosh Urq beer, wearing sweat shop runners and watching Philippino snuff videos, then we have to get beyond the idea that because we were born in a certain year, or of a certain persuasion, that we are inherently better than anyone else.

For example R and B fans. Can anyone explain to me what RnB is? It has nothing to do with rhythm, its got nothing to do with the blues, its seems to be all about undernourished pubescents in mid riffs singing three octaves too high about how they're heartbroken because their boyfriends won't pay their mobile phone bills. It's post-coital music for virgins.

There are two kinds of people in this world. People who are people who are like us, and people who are so insignificant and useless that they think joining a clique gives them an identity.

You know it makes sense.


Vote Lamb

ABC The FAT: Sam's column

Talk 1116 Melbourne Radio 3AK: Sam Kekovich profile

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ABC Radio - Western Australia: You Know It Makes Sense CD

Media Man Australia, Greg Tingle, interviews The Fat's Rebecca Wilson

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