Jacinda Ardern is the prime Minister of New Zealand. Where, Oh Where Has Piggy Muldoon Gone? Oh where, oh where can he be? With his ears cut short and his tail cut long, kick em in the arse, a huntin we’ll go. Ms Ardern is a fully committed feminist, communist, socialist, tree huggin greeny, a social justice warrior, a republican and death to patriarchy. Yet she turns up wearing a head-scarf as if she was the Madonna of a thousand householes at some Muslim soiree. Give us a break, dearie who are ya kiddin Mrs Ardern?
Pauline Hanson told senator Derryn Hinch to pack his bags and get on the next flight out of the country, to go back to New Zealand. Sounds like a good idea to me. Senator Hinch should have been deported years ago; he has got enough convictions and jail time to warrant a kick in the arse back to New Zealand. What’s the dope done for the country anyway? He’s a loud mouth okie from Taranaki.
What a lot of tripe, what a lot of crocodile tears have been shed over the demise of Malcolm Turnbull as PM. Folks, he was red right down to his underpants. The guy was a left-wing plant in the Liberal party; he had chop suey for breakfast, Russian caviar for tea and smoked Cuban cigars for smoko.
To my dear Mr Turnbull, I stopped writing letters to you some time ago; I suppose you might say, so what? So what indeed? Well the answer is in the pudding, which you f**ked up. Mate, you couldn’t run a pie-cart at footy grand final and I’m glad to say goodbye to ya. May all ya chicken grow up to be emus and may they kick ya dunny down. Ya down under wacko!
Catherine McGregor, thar she blows, heave away, haul away, we’re bound for heaven, BLT sexuality and gender fluidity. Mr/Ms McGregor writing in the SMH has come forward with an insightful diatribe about the Liberal Party. Fair suck of the sav! What would she know, some jumped up okie from the left of Titsville. She says Dog-whistling on race and gender, shrill squealing about “identity” politics, is that all that’s left? The game is up. Maybe even the party is over. Give’s a break and catch the next train to Heelsville.
Folks, the ABC have consulted Andrew Bonnell, Associate Professor in History about Senator Fraser Anning saying the “final solution” to the problem of migration by Muslims was a national vote. Howdy doody, what a finger lickin, rootin tootin, helluva idea, Prof Bonnell says Senator Fraser Anning must be kind of inhabiting an extreme right-wing mental universe, struth, strike me lucky. What’s it mean, bro? Oh I think it means Senator Fraser Anning must be always trying to ‘make a quid’ or ‘knock off a Sheila’. Ya reckon, what about the ABC then? Oh their livin in an extreme left-wing mental institution.
Howdy folks, Senator Fraser Anning is in the shit, doo dah, doo dah all day long. He said the final solution to the Asian and Muslim immigration issue was a national plebiscite of the voting citizens, a perfectly reasonable proposal. However, he fell into a linguistic trap. Since WWII, public figures are not permitted to use such words as “final solution” and other NAZI words and phrases. Who says this, well a bunch of left-wing looneys from German left and of course, the cry babies here in Australia like, Penny Wong aka Penny Dreadful, Tony Burke aka Loopy Lou and Bill Shorten aka Daddy Long Lies. Also Senator Anning said more than half of the working age Muslims don’t work, when he should have said less than half of the working age Muslims don’t work, who really gives a continental? They don’t work, Capiche. So pack up ya bags and sashay down the yellow brick road to a hoedown with the looney left if you’re a fair dinkum true blue Aussie.
Well folks, there ya go! I always thought Sam Dastyari was too good to be true; not a true blue Aussie. Now it turns out he’s a recovered drug addict. Well if ya a gold standard celebrity, as Sam the Dunny Man is, then ya need a few miracles in ya life: like walkin on water, turnin water into wine, surviving Jimmy Dancer, havin a blue cattle dog or at least, a black dog chasin ya. Hoorah for Sam, Hoorah for Sam, he’s a horse’s arse! Good on ya Sam, your the one, foreman material!
Folks, Waleed Aly is at it again. Sudanese gangs he says, they don’t exist. He’s speakin the truth they say? Remember folks, Col. Jessup: You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honour, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it! I would rather you just said “thank you” and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post.
Jessica Mauboy wearing the same short purple dress she wore in the semi-final, was a floparoo; she went down like a lead balloon. Ho hum back to work we go. We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig, From early morn to night, We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig, Up everything in sight; Jessica Mauboy was not the trick.