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Mid-Week Oz

2018-12-19T01:41:50Z

Wonderland, Yesterday

Confected outrage swept the nation with the revelation that Junior Minister for Cognitive Dissonance Ken Oath had attempted some unauthorized rumpy-pumpy on an overseas jaunt. His intended sweetheart Dolores Coghlan took her revenge for what she described as the Dinner Date From Hell by sharing the sordid details with shock-jock tabloid No Idea. Oath was informed that he was going to spend considerably more time with what remained of his family. 'The finest traditions of our Party include a wife in the country and a fancy-woman in the city,' parliamentary leader A.N. Other is alleged to have told Oath. 'But there is no room in this Party for blokes who try to pick up and don’t succeed.'

Meanwhile, the parliamentary wing of the Ladies’ Auxiliary have put all members on notice that country voters – as in the people who put you lazy pricks on your padded seats in the House – are utterly fed up. 'If you can’t keep it zipped up then you’re out on your ear. Men are becoming unelectable in the Bush. Why do you think that is, hmmm?' quoth deputy leader Emmeline Pankhurst. Supreme Leader Malcolm Aspirin was last seen with his head in his hands wondering why he can’t take a trick these days; while Pretender to the Throne Brian Bollux is believed to be buying Tatts tickets. 'When you're hot, you’re hot,' he is believed to have commented to aides, after negotiating a more than usually tense National Talkfest in the penumbra of Oath’s extravagances.

Across the waves, the long-running pantomime Nightmare On Pennsylvania Avenue continues to packed houses and matinees, with audiences agog to see what President Dorito will come up with next. As aeroplanes circle the orange-haired behemoth, he continues to invent new excuses for his utter incompetence. Czar of all Russias Vlad the Impaler meanwhile was rumoured to have questioned why some bastards refuse to stay bought. He is reported to be openly reconsidering his overseas investments. More as it comes to hand….

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Mid-Week Oz

2018-12-11T01:43:14Z

Toon-Town: Someday

Excitement mounted in the presidential playpen as Toddler-in-Chief Manuel Dorito announced that Kinder Supervisor General Jack Pershing would be leaving at the end of the year, or as soon as he managed to chew through the straps on his straitjacket, whichever came first. Waving his signature gold-plated plastic rattle at the terrorized White House press corps, the deranged dictator praised Pershing as a really nice guy who was always available for late-night pizza parties.

His successor was widely expected to be Vice-Playpen chief honcho Warren Stoat, last seen running down Pennsylvania Avenue in the general direction of Philadelphia. Other candidates are expected to include George Roulette (an up-and-coming Beltway garden gnome); the guy who once showed the Prez how to work the DVD player; and a small brown lump of Play-Doh. The position is widely feared, owing to the presidential attention span (currently averaging twenty-three seconds) and the Incumbent's recurring delusion that he is the fount of all knowledge in the universe and nobody can teach him anything, except how to fix the drinks holder in the presidential computer.

Closer to home, Oz PM Malcolm Aspirin has been playing chicken with his opposite number Brian Bollux over Aspirin's plan to close down the IT industry and go back to boys on bicycles carrying messages in forked sticks. Bollux refused to blink and told Aspirin to go for it, on the grounds that Australian companies knew better than to listen to anything emanating out of the Wombat Burrow at present. It is believed that secret talks are underway with industry leaders to establish some sort of federal government in the New Year.

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Mid-Week Oz

2018-12-04T05:21:12Z

'Get the wagons into a circle!' came the cry from embattled overlord Malcolm Aspirin. 'We must hang together or we shall hang separately!'

This latest edict erupted as a result of The Lads Are Murmuring faction at Bogantown Central, who had decreed that sitting member Kevin Brick was the outside of enough and can we please have somebody else? Someone maybe who believes that the earth is round and really does spin in space?

As a result, all sitting members are to be returned to the starting gate at The Democracy, and the local branch memberships can all get themselves individually and collectively knotted. Those fortunate enough already to have seats adjourned out the back for a smoko and congratulated themselves on having seen off the latest salvo from deposed Emperor Lord Sidious.

Sidious, having encouraged the local members to rid themselves of Brick, was seen to smirk audibly, with the air of a sheepdog who has corralled his flock into the barn which has been liberally doused in petrol. 'I'm not going to be a vengeful ghost,' the Emperor told an agog audience of journalists marinaded in alcohol and schadenfreude. 'You thought Richelieu was a wrecker? You aint seen nothing yet. He lacked ambition. I intend to burn the entire joint to the ground. Apres moi, le deluge.'

Opposition supremo Brian Bollux was last seen practising his Awed, Humbled and Grateful victory speech in front of a mirror, and was heard to remark that he had more dumb luck than Robert the Bruce.

And in other news, journalist Claudia Daffodil was ejected from the House of Shuffles for being improperly dressed. Elderly fossils on the front bench were heard to splutter into their port: 'Gadzooks! I can see her elbows! What's this country coming to?'

Ms Daffodil was seen to lick the top of her forefinger, nod to the Dinosaur-in-Chief and whisper: 'You'll keep.'

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Hymn To Our Big Brown Land. (VERY LONG!)

2017-10-29T07:44:23Z

Written a decade ago. I have nothing to add...

( Read more... )

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Mid-Week Oz

2017-08-23T01:02:32Z

Lost in the white noise of formation drivel, the following conversation appears to have occurred in Ting-A-Ling, North Korea. The scene: The Presidential Pyramid. Tiny, deranged despot Pork Dim Sum is watching videos of guard dogs disembowelling famished refugees while imbibing from platinum-iridium stirrup-cups of Chateau Lafitte. Suddenly, an aide appears:

PDS: Yes, what is it? I’m busy!

Aide: It’s the Chinese envoy, O Most High When Standing On A Table. He wants to see you.

PDS: Tell him to come tomorrow. And bring me some more lark’s tongues. These ones are stale.

Aide: Your Exalted Pre-Eminence, he wants to see you now.

PDS: Oh very well. Bring him in. And bring the rocket launch video. He’ll want to see that again.

Aide: …

PDS: What’s the matter with you? I gave you an order. Jump to it!

Aide: They’ve sent a new envoy. I think you might want to switch off the TV, Your Almightyship.

PDS: A new one? Whatever happened to Mr Sun? He liked watching rocket-launches. He couldn’t get enough of them.

Aide: He’s been recalled. In fact – oh, here he is. May I introduce Mr Ho Li Fork, O Carbuncle of the Asteroids?

HLF: Get this idiot out of here. (Aide disappears.) No, stay where you are. And turn that bloody TV off. I want to talk to you.

PDS: Hello, Mr Ho. Wouldn’t you like to see our missile launches? Your predecessor did.

HLF: No. I don’t. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Just because Raoul Tinpot’s running around with his trousers around his ankles and threatening us all with Armageddon is no reason for you to join in. What sort of blithering idiot plays nuclear chicken with a deranged lunatic?

PDS: We have to keep threatening the West. Otherwise they ignore us which is totally unfair. Don’t you want the imperialist running dogs scared of us?

HLF: What makes you think I want a smoking ruin on my borders and millions of refugees who glow in the dark? Can you not get it through your cement-head that this guy is as crazy as you are? You’re dealing with guys who think that if the world blows up there’ll be a mothership to take them all to some billionaires’ paradise where there’ll still be wall-to-wall servants and hot and cold running champagne. May I remind you that this fly-blown, festering little pimple of a country exists solely by the grace and favour of the Middle Kingdom? So pull your bloody head in or I’ll pull the plug on you.

PDS: Um. What do you want me to do? If I don’t have nuclear missiles I’m finished.

HLF: Don’t be wet. Of course you can have them. Just stop waving your dick at your neighbours and shut up. That’s an order.

PDS: …

HLF: All right. That’s better. Now do as you're told and we’ll let you keep doing whatever it is that you do. Just don’t do anything crazy. No, don’t get up. I’ll see myself out.

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Another Refugee from Another Place

2017-05-07T10:26:19Z

And no, not The Senate.

Well, now. I wonder how I friend people here???

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