So the Commonwealth Games was a fcuk-up, who cares. What a pack of galoots they were. Next week one of these precious little things will be having a nervous break down or coming-out after being a closet homo for twenty years. Carrot-top Beattie one of the biggest drongos to have ever crossed the star studded stage of the Qld Parliament was as usual drowned by his own verbal shit. So mummy didn’t see me in the final march past! And Daddy wouldn’t buy me a bow-wow! bow wow!
Well folks the great Lisa Wilkinson is a floparoo, who would have thought that? The highest paid woman on Australian television, with a reported $2.3 million salary. As soon as Lisa hit the Project, its rating plummeted. What a too-do? Which can’t be true! Heighdy! heighdy! Misery me — lack-a-day-dee! Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum. When ya felling glum stick a finger in ya bum, Heighdy! heighdy! Lisa the One.
Who is Melissa Doyle anyway? She has no education to speak of, never had a real job. Has spent her whole life hanging off the end of a TV presenter’s desk, yet Mamamia, Fake News Incorporated, says “Doyle, of course, went on to land one of the most coveted roles in the industry, hosting Sunrise with David Koch from 2002 until 2013.” Who cares? The great buffoon of all time, Mike Willesee once called himself nothing more than a talking parrot who repeated on Air material put in front of him. Ms Melissa Doyle has I am afraid an exaggerated view of her own self-worth; she nothing more than a pedlar of Fake News.
Sams yer man. Good on yer Sam, your the One. Sam Newman is in the shit again. Hooray for Sam, hooray for Sam, hooray at last, hooray for Sam, he’s a horse’s arse. Don’t be mistaken me old mate, Sam is right on the money when it comes to dumbarsed female reporters. It must be nearly fifty years since the first International Women’s Day, what’s changed in all those years, nothing. Women have been nagging and whinging non-stop since day one. Advancement used to be based on merit and remuneration was paid for the effort and skill expended by the employee. Not women me old mate, what they want is a free ride. #MeToo, give’s a break, grow up. Ooh Ah up the SAM mysiles, Sam forever.
The Aba dabba do mob and the Long Grassers too, like a drink or two, but who’s counting. Dreamtime bro, “hard-earned thirst” bro, know what I mean, fair suck of the sav bottle bro, come on be fair, give me a go. But bro, have ya ever had a go at Green Can Dreaming, bro? Bloody strewth, bloody oath, you name it, VB the one; Green Can Dreaming for me.
Mate, I thought Mamamia was bad enough, now I find another gang of whoofters are in town, Techly, who’ve cracked a mental because Malcolm Turnbull did a selfie with Cher. Homophobia mate, Malcolm’s got the dog’s disease, he’s gone rabid, hydrophobia as well, bad too. By the way how many phobias can you have at the one time? What about BLT phobia, sounds a baddie hey? Bejesus where are we going? Ring up Techly and ask for Alice Dodd, she’ll know.
Mamamia, Fake News Incorporated, is in on the act again, Punch and Judy, aka Barnaby and Vikki. Up until now, Barnaby has had to sit on the cutty stool and a take tongue lashing from feminists, homosexuals, left wing looneys, Labor party dead beats, crazies, men haters, the BLT bigrade, and sundry other f***ers. When all along, all he did was to haul her into bed and covered up her head just to keep her from the foggy foggy dew. But somehow, he got that wrong and when he replied: Me, Sir. Not I Sir, I was up country with the Minister; he has gotten into even more shit. The question I have is, whose turn is it now to sit on the cutty stool, surely not Mamamia, they’re only doing their job!
Mate, the older I’ve got, the more I believe I’m living in an upside-down world where the shit has gone to the top and the cream has fallen to the bottom and nothing makes sense anymore and one can’t just suck it and see either. I checked the News, why I don’t know, because it’s all fake news anyway and what do I find, two hollow heads making news based on their worldly wise know-all: dickbrain Paul Burrell, who’s in the jungle currently, spoke to a chimp who had danced with a chimp who had had an aba daba honeymoon with Duchess Fergie, who’d told the chimp, Prince Charles would die before the Queen – so there ya go! The other is a dumb broad called, Ros Heines who writes fake news drivel, an even purer form of bullshit and she says Vikki Campion should go on supporting parents benefit because Barnaby Joyce is a bounder and a cad and a man to boot – so put that in ya pipe and smoke it, all you goddamn arse-lickin, no-hopein men!
Here we go again;
He’s back in town.
Here we go,
Here we go,
Here we f***ing go!
Denton is a leftie we all know.
Andrew Denton will be returning to our TV screens later this year for a new show on Channel Seven called Interview. So f***ing what! Boxhead Denton, the greatest dropkick south of the Brisbane line. Who announced this fake news? Mamamia, Fake News Incorporated, who else than that mob of drongos would be interested in Denton?
Mamamia, Fake News Incorporated, reports on bullying, cyber that is; in other words, a Claytons. Turn the phone off or get a new number, Capiche. Of course, Mamamia needs a name to run the bullshit story, who do they pick none other than, wait for it, Lisa Wilkinson; who happened to survive school bullying where she was up against 10,000 to 1. The David and Goliath story, eat your heart out. Lisa’s been there done that and survived.
Paul Dillon Commentator and Author 