PONDSCUM

Malcolm Turnbull. Sharman Stone. Kevin Andrews. Colin Barnett. Alexander Downer.

You are filth.

I pray you die. All of you. For yours is not the type of blood that should run in the veins of any other human being upon this earth.

And that, in what you may think are your final moments on this earth, you are confronted with visions of such torment, such pain, such interminable hell, that your internal organs burst from your pudgy, puffy little bodies in fear, that blood runs from your ears and your eyeballs, from every orifice and pore, and that the screams you make, the howls of anguish that escape from the scabby, wounded slits that are your reeking word-holes, rattle the very stars in their firmaments, shake planets from their orbits and extinguish the flames of suns, that the torture you feel in these moments will seem like an eternity, will be an eternity, will draaaaaaaag itself out to the bitterest end, an end that will never come, and, in flailing desperation, you reach for the nearest, the sharpest, the heaviest, the most damaging instrument you can lay your hands upon and plunge it deep, deep, deep into your eye sockets to puncture the withered, sucked-out spastic organs, those buckets of rancid sponge that are your gonorrheaic riddled brains and, as it goes further, harder, deeper, ever deeper, your pustule ridden flesh is rattled and wracked with involuntary bone-snapping spasms and you befoul yourselves, your moans and cries reaching such a fever pitch of wailing horror at the fate that has befallen you, that the sands on beaches and the sands of the deserts all turn to glass and shatter into a billion-billion shards, and that green rancid shit, bile, and clotted acid-pus dribbles and runs across and over your prone, shuddering, shattered bodies, burning gaping, festering black holes down to the marrow of your shattered, broken bones and that it goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on ...

AND THAT IT NEVER. EVER. EVER. ENDS.

You are filth.









God, that felt good.

And now that I've got that off my chest, I shall resume my normal, happy, well-adjusted widdle self ...

La de da …

Oh, look, butteryfly!

Is Puuuuuurty …

F*CK OFF, FIELDING

I like the idea of a Senate where the balance of power is held by a mix of smaller parties and independents. I've liked the idea ever since the late Don Chipp formed the Democrats with the concept of "keeping the bastards honest" being high priority on their initial agenda. And so I’ve split my vote in the Senate on a regular basis, at least since the mid 1980’s, with only a couple of exceptions.

It used to be I’d split it to the Democrats but, since Meg Lees did the deal with John Howard over GST, I began to split it to the Greens. Fuck you, Meg.

And, for the most part, aside from a few crackpots and embarrassments over the years, having a Senate where no one major party holds an absolute majority seems to work okay most of the time. Regardless of the central ideologies and platforms of those who hold the deciding votes, most have managed to be adult enough in their dealings and negotiations to realise that their job is to review and revise, and advise and assist in the implementation of government legislation, the government having a popularly elected majority in the House of Representatives to implement legislation as was either flagged in an election campaign or as it is generally known as a matter of policy. Certainly, many of these minor party and independent senators will “earmark” certain pieces of legislation in such a way that furthers their own policy agendas to their favour, and we’d be fools to think they would not – if they didn't, they’d pretty much fully negate their reasons for being there in the first place.

But Steve Fielding really is a fool. He’s Forrest Gump gone full retard. A village full of idiots in one goofy little package.

If life’s a box of chocolates, he’s the Ram’s Bladder Cup with Lark’s Vomit.

This simpleton appears to be under the impression that he has been charged with some sort of sacred duty as Protector-General of the People and that, in this position, he and he alone will decide which legislation shall pass in the upper house and what form that legislation will take. This, despite the fact he represents 2/5ths of fuck-all of the population and has done little more than engage in witless stunts and babble incoherently on occasions in the manner of a Pentecostal preacher with Alzheimer’s on speed.

Bob Brown’s assessment of Fielding as “silly and immature” is just a trifle timid, I think …

… Out of his depth, naïve, ignorant, willful, childish, unintelligent, dimwitted, selfish, self-absorbed and awe-inspiringly, jaw-droppingly stupid, dense and thicker than a two-by-four decking plank are a few more suitable terms that come to mind. Among many others …

Regardless of what one may think of the Federal Government’s obsession over alcohol and the endless reams of studies, reports and findings on its allegedly horrid effects or the lurid headlines about drunk teenagers fucking and fwowing up, the tax hike on ready-mixed booze wasn’t exactly unpopular with some and seemed to be having the desired effect, according to some others.

Was it just a tax grab as Fielding claimed?

When is a new or increased tax not? Let’s not kid ourselves.

Do I care?

No, I don’t.

I don’t consume these drinks but I’m also not inclined to buy the breathless hysterics and increasingly dire warnings about this allegedly overwhelming crisis of teenage binge-drinking that’s supposedly sweeping the nation. As David Marr noted in his book about the Henson case, it’s the media’s business to maintain a constant sense of crisis about something, whatever that thing may be. If it has to do with “thinking about the children”, you’re assured a winning ticket that’ll run for months if you play your cards right. And it’s a governments business to maintain an illusion of crisis management by being seen to do something about it.

The current “crisis” fad just happens to be alcohol. It’ll be coffee and tea next. Or we’ll go back to pot and fat people again. Everything has its cycle and all these are proven hardy perennials, a hunnert-percent guaranteed to generate a comfy snuggle of horror-story headlines whenever we run out of “foreign threat” things to ‘lert and ‘larm ourselves about.

But what outs Fielding as an infantile loon of the first order in this business is his inability to grasp the concepts of “negotiation” and “bargaining”, to understand that in affairs of government, “all-or-nothing” holdouts of the type Fielding is indulging in are not the mark of men or women holding steadfast to a cause, but rather the mark of idiot children who, when asked why they won’t eat their vegetables, simply reply, “Don’ wanna!”, then pout like cane toads and kick their legs under the table.

Poor Steve wants to be consulted with and listened to. He wants to be seen as an important fellow, a man to know, and he wants to be taken seriously and he wants to be thought of and paid attention to. In a nice way, that is. He wants to be invited to a few Christmas parties and Easter egg hunts and get birthday cards from his classmates and have a jolly old time with everyone all together on excursions to the zoo.

It’s just that Steve hasn’t quite cottoned on yet that his classmates think he’s weird ‘cause he tucks his singlet into his underpants and keeps his snot in jars and he still has stuff stuck to his teeth from last Thursday’s play-lunch. And he smells like curdled milk and cat poo and makes weird noises in the toilet blocks on sports days.

As Bob Brown remarked on ABC, “He has to be much more communicative. You can't get a good outcome without the flow of information open. And, yes, it's very testing.”

Fielding can’t just issue ultimatums and expect the rest of the cast and crew to throw down their guns and toddle off to the county jail with nothing more than a shrug and a chorus of “aw-shucks”.

For the Senate is not about Steve Fielding. Government and governance is not about Steve Fielding. The country is not about Steve Fielding and what he may want.

Many people seem to be making that fact perfectly clear to him right now.

He should either grow up and learn to accept this and live in the world or simply shut up and fuck off and stop giving everyone else the shits.

POLITICAL STAFFER TELLS JOURNO TO F**K OFF!

World asplodes!

JULIA Gillard's office was in damage control last night after a staff member inadvertently told a western Sydney journalist to "f..k off" in an email on ABC Learning.

Opposition childcare spokeswoman Sophie Mirabella said: "This is a real insight into what (the ALP) think of the real world, into how they operate".

Things were way more civil back in olden times, weren't they? ...

JEFF KENNETT: He said to me, “I didn’t like the way you kept me out of the campaign”. I said, “Wouldn’t have you in it, and I didn’t have any federal people in it.”

ANDREW PEACOCK: Well you didn’t have me. Didn’t have anyone.

KENNETT: And I said to him, “Tomorrow, I’m going to bucket the whole lot of you”.

PEACOCK: No! Don’t do that Jeffrey.

KENNETT: Hold your flow. I said, “Tomorrow John” and he said, “I know where your sympathies lie”, and I said, “I couldn’t give a fuck. I have no sympathies any more. You’re all a pack of shits and tomorrow I’m going berserk”. Well he went off his brain and in the end I said to him, I said, “Howard. You’re a cunt. You haven’t got my support, you never will have and I’m not going to rubbish you or the party tomorrow but I feel a lot better having told you you’re a cunt.”

PEACOCK: Oh shit!

KENNETT: And the poor little fellow didn’t know whether he was Arthur or Martha.

Yep. Way more civil. Reckon so.

THE ROCKS IN CHERIE’S HEAD

As we all know by now, Michelle Obama is poised, articulate, self-confident and highly intelligent. She's also very fucking hot.

And I do have the impression that, if you were to get into her bad books or piss her off by assuming that she is none of these things that she would simply tear you twelve new arseholes and play ping-pong with your eyeballs.

So I very much doubt the First Lady needs any advice of any kind from some stupid addle-brained bint who thinks this type of brainless bollocks makes sense.

A "Homeopathic dowser healer" who, for £85 “will sell you a pile of stones and instructions on how to lay them out in the garden”?

Imbecile.

Just shut up and fuck off, Cherie. Go eat a wafer.

ICE CREAM FOR GEORGE!

In the United States, "Ben & Jerry’s" began a competition to create a new flavour ice-cream in honour of the newly elected President before finally settling on “Yes Pecan!”.

And while there is no truth in the rumour that they also asked people to suggest names for a George W. Bush ice-cream flavour, that didn’t stop Keith Olbermann from reading out a few (selectively edited for propriety) ideas …

Here’s the full uncensored list …

Grape Depression

Abu Grape

Cluster Fudge

Nut'n Accomplished

Iraqi Road

Chock 'n Awe

WireTapioca

Impeach Cobbler

Guantanmallow

imPeachmint

Good Riddance You Lousy Motherfucker... Swirl

Heck of a Job, Brownie!

Neocon Politan

RockyRoad to Fascism

The Reese's-cession

Cookie D'oh!

The Housing Crunch

Nougalar Proliferation

Death by Chocolate... and Torture

Freedom Vanilla Ice Cream

Chocolate Chip On My Shoulder

You're Shitting In My Mouth And Calling It A Sundae

Credit Crunch

Mission Pecanplished

Country Pumpkin

Chunky Monkey in Chief

George Bush Doesn't Care About Dark Chocolate

WMDelicious

Chocolate Chimp

Bloody Sundae

Caramel Preemptive Stripe

I Broke the Law and Am Responsible for the Deaths of Thousands...with Nuts

I WISH I'D WRITTEN THAT ...

Buffalo Beast list their 50 Most Loathsome Americans of 2008 and the charges against them ...

I doubt these three could be bettered for descriptions ...

At No.43, You ...

Charges: You think it’s your patriotic duty to spend money you don’t have on crap you don’t need. You think Hillary lost because of sexism, when it’s actually because she’s just a bad liar. You think Iraq is better off now than before we invaded, and don’t understand why they’re so ungrateful. You think Tim Russert was a great journalist. You’re hopping mad about an auto industry bailout that cost a squirt of piss compared to a Wall Street heist of galactic dimensions, due to a housing crash you somehow have blamed on minorities. It took you six years to figure out what a tool Bush is, but you think Obama will make it all better. You deem it hunky dory that we conduct national policy debates via 8-second clips from “The View.” You think God zapped humans into existence a few thousand years ago, although your appendix and wisdom teeth disagree. You like watching vicious assholes insult each other on TV. You support gun rights, because firing one gives you a chubby. You cuddle falsehoods and resent enlightenment. You think the fact that 43% of whites could stomach voting for an incredibly charismatic and eloquent light-skinned black guy who was raised by white people means racism is over. You think progressive taxation is socialism. 1 in 100 of you are in jail, and you think it should be more. You are shallow, inconsiderate, afraid, brand-conscious, sedentary, and totally self-obsessed. You are American.

Exhibit A: You’re more upset by Miley Cyrus’s glamour shots than the fact that you are a grown adult who is upset about Miley Cyrus.

At No.20, Joe the Plumber ...

Charges: The Che Guevara of bald, pissed off white men. In a lot of ways, Samuel Wurzelbacher really does represent the average American—basing economic opinions on unrealistic expectations of personal future success, blaming his failure to meet those expectations on minorities and old people, complaining about deadbeats getting his taxes when he isn’t actually paying his taxes, and advertising his own rudimentary historical and mathematical ignorance by warning of creeping socialism in a country whose highest income tax rate has dropped by half in thirty years. “Joe” indeed symbolizes the true American dream—to become undeservedly rich and famous through a dizzyingly improbable stroke of luck. As American folk heroes go, Wurzelbacher ranks somewhere between Hulk Hogan and Bernie Goetz.

Exhibit A: "Social Security is a joke...social security I've never believed in, don't like it. I hate that it's forced on me."

At No.11, Rush Limbaugh ...

Charges: The father of modern stupidity, Limbaugh spins reflexively, never struggling with issues, because he knows his conclusion must favor Republicans, and his only task is finding a way to get there. In other words, he may or may not actually believe what he’s saying, but it’s beside the point. His job is not to say what he thinks, but to instruct his listeners on what they should think. If the facts don’t agree, he can always change them, as his “ditto heads” are already armed against the contrary evidence with the all-purpose “liberal bias” attack. “Rush is right,” as the slogan goes, and all those nerdy reporters in the “drive by media” are lying, because they secretly love terrorists. It’s this creepily worshipful, breathtakingly infantile abdication of intellect to a blatantly dishonest hypocrite that makes Limbaugh’s audience so goddamn sad. These pathetic, insecure, failures of men look to Rush as the champion of their impotent rage, helping them to externalize responsibility for their own deficiencies, pinning the blame on those darn liberals and their racial and gender equality.

Exhibit A: You have to marvel at the sheer ignominy of someone who coins the term “Obama recession” two days after the election.

No.11 reminds me of someone ...

NO CHANGE FOR SOME

From the Southern Poverty Law Center via Alternet ...

"The Obama era comes after years in which white supremacists have successfully exploited the immigration debate – both providing racist propaganda that seeps into the popular culture and benefiting from the vilification of Latino immigrants. Mainly as a result of the bigotry and xenophobia surrounding the immigration debate, the number of hate groups operating in the United States has risen by nearly 50 percent – from 602 to 888 – since 2000.

Now, these groups have begun to turn their attention to Obama – distributing racist propaganda, filling Internet message boards with threats and messages of hate, and, in some cases, taking more direct action against minorities. Here is a sampling of racial incidents reported in the wake of the election:

Police in Riverside County, California, said five attacks on minorities were likely related to the election and were believed to have been carried out by a local white supremacist gang.

In Shreveport, La., a black man wearing an Obama T-shirt was brutally beaten by a group of white men screaming "f--k Obama" and "n-----r president." The attack left the man with a broken nose, broken eye socket and broken tear duct, requiring multiple surgeries.

In Springfield, Mass., a black church was burned hours after the election was called for Obama. Authorities later arrested three white men.

In Staten Island, N.Y., a black teen was bloodied and bruised by two white teens who shouted "Obama" while pummeling him with a bat and pipe.

In Rexburg, Idaho, second- and third-graders on a school bus chanted "assassinate Obama."

In Torrance, Calif., swastikas and racial slurs were spray-painted on homes and cars of people who displayed Obama signs or bumper stickers.

In Milwaukee, a poster of Obama with a bullet going through his head was discovered in a police station.

In Maine, a sign at a convenience store invited customers to join a betting pool on when Obama would be assassinated. The sign said, "Let's hope we have a winner.""

And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them ...

ANDY'S CLOUDY CRYSTAL BALL

On Tuesday, January 27, 2009 at 02:23pm, Andrew Bolt predicts that the newly-elected U.S. President will be way too busy to bother giving Kevin Rudd a call any time soon ...

On Wednesday, January 28, 2009 at 9.24am, AAP reports ...

Barack Obama has made his first phone call to Prime Minister Kevin Rudd since becoming US president.

Mr Obama phoned Mr Rudd on Wednesday morning, Australian time, the prime minister's office confirmed.

No further details are available, although there is speculation the US will ask Australia to commit more troops to the conflict in Afghanistan.

SHOCK! SUPERHERO IDENTITY REVEALED!

Spiderman's an evil lefty!

Unlike George W. Bu Batman.

JOBS! JOBS! JOBS!

TOM ♥ JULIE BISHOP

You and your pussycat nose, whoa-oh-oh-oh …

"PSST!! THE PRESIDENT HAS GENITAL WARTS ... PASS IT ON"

Where's the love?

THIS YOGHURT KILLS BABIES

I wrote this a while back (October 2007) on a blog that no longer exists (an early effort), however, in light of poor old Andrew’s mournful whining today about poor old Kevin Andrews, an apparently “cautious and deep[ly] Christian” fellow and an “honest man”, I thought it an apt and dandy time for a recycle …

Oh, those were the days, my friends, those were the days …

We thought they'd never end.

THIS YOGHURT KILLS BABIES (REDUX)

On the ABC television program "Insiders" of August 5, 2007, host Barrie Cassidy interviewed Kevin Andrews, the current Federal Minister for Immigration about his decision to deport Dr Mohamed Haneef on the basis of allegations that Haneef had been mucking it up and hooning about with some of those despicable terrorists we're forever being 'lerted and 'larmed about. Of course, most of these allegations have now been widely discredited and dismissed, and the good Minister Andrews in his desperately clumsy attempts to convince us all that his accusations were justified continues to reveal himself to be a man whose grey matter appears to comprise little else than a few dusty tumbleweeds and a blowfly.

And, aside from those pesky Indian doctors, Andrews ain’t too keen on foreign black folks either.

However, at the tail end of the interview, Cassidy began to ask Andrews about another matter entirely ...

Broadcast: 05/08/2007

BARRIE CASSIDY: I also read this morning that you are an adviser and an honorary patron to the radical - as it's described in the newspaper - radical pro-life group Life Decisions International. Is that true?

KEVIN ANDREWS: Look, I've been a patron, the Americans used the word "honorary adviser" because in America a patron is someone who pays money. I've been a patron of a pro-life organisation for about 10 years.

BARRIE CASSIDY: This group advocates economic boycotts against companies producing contraceptive pills. Is that something that you support?

KEVIN ANDREWS: Can I say, I'm a patron. I'm not involved and have never been involved in the day-to-day operation of the organisation. I'm, you know, patron of a variety of organisations.

BARRIE CASSIDY: But as a patron you lend your support to that organisation?

KEVIN ANDREWS: That's right.

BARRIE CASSIDY: And you wouldn't put your name to it unless you supported their tactics, and their tactics are to support an economic boycott against companies like GlaxoSmithKline, for example.

KEVIN ANDREWS: It's a free world, Barrie. People can advocate what they like. But as far as I'm aware, there's nothing illegal involved. As I said...

BARRIE CASSIDY: Nothing illegal about an economic boycott but it's something that you clearly support otherwise you wouldn't put your name to it.

KEVIN ANDREWS: Look, the bottom line is that this is an organisation which is pro-life. Everybody knows I'm pro-life. I'm patron of an organisation that's pro-life.

BARRIE CASSIDY: And pro-economic boycotts.

KEVIN ANDREWS: Well, as to the way in which they advocate a pro-life outcome, that's fine.

BARRIE CASSIDY: I'm just curious, one thing - what have they got against Walt Disney? Why are they demanding a boycott against Walt Disney?

KEVIN ANDREWS: (laughs) As I said, I'm not involved in their day-to-day operations. I'm a patron of it. I'm not running away from that. It's been on my declaration of interests forever and a day or ever since I've been a patron of it. That's that.

BARRIE CASSIDY: Thanks for your time this morning.

KEVIN ANDREWS: My pleasure.

Walt Disney aside, that Lion King of theirs having been long revealed to be queerer than a carpentry joint tacked together by someone with St.Vitus' dance, Life Decisions International also appear to be dead-set opposed to that infamous "culture of death" concept known as carpet on floors, listing among their "boycott targets", the companies Carpet One, Flooring America, Flooring Canada, and Flooring One.

Now, I know nothing of carpets, plush rugs never before having struck me as particularly sinister, but, perhaps summat's afoot aboot that lump of piles on my floor which has yet to shew it's evil intentions.

But why on earth would the poor old Coach Dairy Goat Farm of Pine Farms, New York be in their sights?

What have they got against a decent lump of curd?

DEAD MEN'S FORESKINS

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FELIXUNGERALIA

Welcome to the anal-retentive capitol of the world. Mixing up the best of a spotless Singapore street with a delightfully German sense of humour, may we now present to you the funnest place you’ll ever visit …

SYDNEY!!

A place whose leaders may well be utterly incapable of running a health system, a public transport system, an education system or pretty much anything else that may actually matter to you, but hey, godammit, they have ways of keepin’ ya tidy!

... Police officers have been encouraged to issue fines of up to $400 for washing car windscreens at intersections or putting up posters on power poles ...

... NSW Police Commissioner Andrew Scipione, who is championing the initiative, said it is not a revenue raising exercise, instead insisting it is what the community wants to feel safe ...

... Mr Scipione said he ranked this with other "quality of life issues" such as noise, car hoons and alcohol-related crime. People being approached in their cars at intersections or walking through streets "just covered" in posters may feel like they are in a dangerous situation, he said. So the crackdown is about "making people feel like they are being looked after"...

1. I've never felt threatened by a poster. I've never walked past a poster and had it whisper at me, "Gotta fag? Spare change? Wanna buy some hash?" Even when the poster has been half-unstuck from it's place of stuckness, it's never thrust a copy of the Watchtower at me or tried to talk me into taking a personality test. It's a poster.

2. And I've never felt in a dangerous situation because I may have been walking through a street "covered" in posters, especially if the posters are advertising, for example, Richard E. Grant in "My Fair Lady", or Andre Rieu or "Happy Feet". They’re posters, for Christ’s sake, not suicide bombers.

3. "Making people feel like they are being looked after" means giving them the impression that something is being done for the greater good when, in fact, nothing is being done at all. This is the New South Wales state government’s main stock-in-trade now, and has been for the better part of a decade. Hell, before I moved up to Brisbane, we used to laugh at Queenslanders, but now Queenslanders are laughing at Sydneysiders. All the time. Even the Queenslanders who’ve spent the last 200 years marrying their first cousins and giving birth to kiddies who’d make Leatherface look like George Clooney are pissing themselves. These days, tell someone interstate that you’re from Sydney, they’ll just put an arm around your shoulder and say, “You poor bugger … can I buy you a beer?”

4. Scipione's an insufferable cockhead. But then, we already knew that.

There's been mention of this on radio as well over the last few days, and most people don’t seem to be the least bit bothered by posters advertising bands, shows and exhibitions or cool and groovy "happenings" where the young folk go to take drugs and get themselves knocked up and give birth to disabled quadruplets nine months later and wind up on welfare while dad grows one of those stringy little black beards that looks like a leper’s pubic hair and he’s got that sunken chest thing happening (all the better for tossing a salad if you run out of Tupperware bowls!) and it’s tattooed all over with the names of his kiddies, who are all dead now anyway cause mum and pop locked them in a cupboard for 6 months and went on a Tim Tam and Kettle Chip bender. Is that the problem, Scip?

Although, there are a few who say such posters are “visual pollution” …

But so is Bert Newton’s shiny new face and hairplugs and those bloody things are all over the place; on the sides of buses and in newspapers and magazines and television advertisements which pop up when you least expect it and send you tootling up the hall in horror to shit out your stomach lining (fifth time since you got home, you’ve lost a kilo and half in two ad breaks and your arse feels like it’s been scraped up and down a gravel driveway).

Visual pollution?

There's Meriton apartment blocks.

And teenagers with zits.

There’s fat people with backsides the size of battered Volkswagens and faces like dropped bread'n'butter puddings, teeth the colour and shape of cloves, and fatrolls that could tyre a Mack truck and cushion it up the Andes with nary a rattle. They’re pretty unpleasant to look at.

There's Belinda Neal and John Della-Bosca, and Piers Akerman. There’s Michael Costa, and Joe Tripodi and Eddie Obeid and Milton Orkopoulos. Horrible, horrible, ugly people. Millions of them.

Hell, look, life is full of really fucking ugly people and they’re all around us. Every time you go outside and up the street for a walk or turn on a television or look at a newspaper, there they are.

Horribly ugly ugly people being horribly ugly all the horribly ugly time.

Even people who, in olden times, weren’t renowned for their horrible ugliness, have gone horribly ugly now, having spent the last several years sticking pins in various parts of their noggins out of some deranged desire to look like a land-dwelling puffer fish.

The only way to reduce visual pollution in our cities and towns is not to ban the glueing of posters to power poles, but to kill all the horribly ugly people at the moment of conception. It would be the most effective way of reducing the number of media magnates, mining magnates, stockbrokers, bankers, music industry lawyers, real estate agents, and has-been actors and actresses, not to mention putting a stop to any of them breeding a posse of horribly ugly offspring, who nearly always wind up being uglier than a ten-gallon-hat full of cane toad colons anyway.

Scrape 'em, bag 'em, flush 'em.

Birds gotta fly, fish gotta eat.

Andrew Scipione’s idea of visual pollution. A “street poster” from 1995. I have one of these in my possession, purchased in Perth from the venue and signed by Lydia Lunch and Rowland S. Howard. Visual pollution, my arse.

AH, CRAP …

Oops.

…

…

Monday, October 10th, 2008 will be the first day.

Sheesh.

This ain't gonna be pretty.

ASPLODING PUDDLES OF HAPPY!!!!!

CONGRATULATIONS, MR. PRESIDENT-ELECT!

ASK A STUPID QUESTION …

In response to Peter Beinart’s column in the Sydney Morning Herald this morning, I couldn’t resist …

Dear Editor,

"Why has America turned on Sarah Palin?", asks Peter Beinart (5/11/08). It's simple, Peter. Having handed the administration of their country to an idiot for the last 8 years, they're probably well in the mood for putting someone with a brain in charge for a change.

THE MINDLESS MENACE OF VIOLENCE

Take 6 minutes from your life and listen to this …



From April 5 1968, Robert F. Kennedy, Cleveland, Ohio

I PROMISE ...

If Barack Obama is elected President of the United States on Wednesday 5th October, 2008 (Australia time), I promise that, after 30 years, I will give up smoking.

Seriously.