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Golden Shower

"Days of wine and Yackerboom"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And it came to pass that the Yackerboom looked around, and saw that there was a void.  Wishing to avoid the void, he cried out let there be light.  But there was none, as existence did not as yet exist.  He did then say, whenever I have a problem, having a big bang always makes things right.  So he indeed had a very big bang, and everything sprang into existence, including lepsosy, fast food, and Michael Jackson.  And he saw that all was good.  Well, not so much good as barely adequate.  He said, with all this good, we must have evil, so he created Frankie Avalon and Beach Blanket Bingo movies.  Also, the Fux Spews Chunder, so that even the Neocons shall have somewhere to live.  And he said to the Neocons, go forth and multiply, and their numbers did soar into the tens, until they were as many as liberal Israeli lobbyists in Washington.  And slowly, but surely, they all plummeted towards the Big Crunch.  So it is written.  Somewhere.

 

 

 

The Cloning Council pulled a big boo-boo this week.  Trying to make an Annette Funicello clone, they stuffed up the personality module, so, instead of the girl-next-door, they ended up with a sex crazed strumpet who refuses point blank to wear any underwear.  Strangely enough, so far they have sold 17,390,661 units since yesterday.  Even stranger, all the purchasers appear to be males 60+ years old.  Go figure.

 

 

Today, Yoko Ono did something people could understand.  This could be the end of civilisation as we know it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We welcome to this planet the Apostles of the not-so-great god Gertrude The One Toothed, who have come here to find out how to be able to give their god orders at prayer breakfasts.  Apparantly they want to change the regimes of a few local sovereign planets, and would prefer to get Gertrude to do the dirty work if at all possible.  A spokesbeing said that their one advantage over the likes of King George the Dubberyar, is that their god is always on their side in any of their little wars, as She is so bloody ugly that nobody else wants Her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aliens!  Please stop leaving your cloaked starships parked and unattended in public areas.  The enormous increase in the number of people attending hospitals with broken noses and/or toes is starting to attract attention.

 

 

 

 

And it came to pass that the Yackerboom went from his place to another place, a little to the east and lower down, where he looked around and did see three wells.  "Well, well,well, what do we have here" he said.  "Nothing but us wells," they said, "and all we do is hold water".  "Better than most of my alibis," said the Rotund One.  And then he did espy a very old man, older than even the Rolling Stones, and he called out "What manner of old fart are you?"  And the man said "I am Frankie of Avalon, and I have been cast out of the halls of men, and my beach blanket has been given as a prize at bingo. What am I to do?"  "Go and find your brother in crime, the Fabian, and do duets with him.  If that doesn't bring the universe crashing down around your ears, nothing will," said the Unholy One, "Let Dee Dee Dinah once more roam free."  And left the Yackerboom that part of the wilderness, which was a very silly part. And he came upon three turtles nesting in a tree, and he said "Lo, I am nearing the jurisdiction of King George the Dubberyar, the Monarch Of Many Dicks, only he could make a turtle think it was a dog. So much for super string theory."  And the Yackerboom rested for three days and three nights at a motel that was not a front for a brothel he denies that completely. For it is said that such things are a mortal sin.  And if the Yackerboom finds out who said it, his arse is grass. Even if it turns out to be Barrack4 Obama2go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Predators and Aliens are reminded that the Antartic is a wilderness protection area, and they are to cease immediately holding their little killfests there.  Try Washington, DC, nobody will notice there.  Especially with Barrack4 Obama2go in charge of the madhouse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Johnny Lust has left the Seven Deadly Sins to take up a gig in the Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse, replacing Death, who has been overworked to death during the reign of King George the Dubberyar.  A spokesman for the rest of the Sins said that they were going to break up, as without lust, the other sins can't cut it anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coming soon!  Pork Pie Teller Championship Of The World!  Reigning champion, Tony 'who's a pretty boy then' Blair, Combat Catholic and War Criminal Extraordinaire, -v- Barrack4 'I had my fingers crossed' Obama2go, the newest liar on the block, and up-and-coming Israeli pin-up boy.  The tame media has been booked, and the Holy Pundits are ready.  Who will hold the Goebbles Cup?  Which country is next?  Get ready to kiss your arsehole goodbye!  Watch this space!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ADV:  Want to join Starfleet but don't want to be a touchy-feely namby pamby, too scared of the Prime Directive to destroy innocent life forms?  Want to have all that good futuristic stuff whilst carrying on like the U.S. military does in this day and age?  Worry no more!  The alternate universe are hiring!  The one where Spock wears a beard and Mr. Sulu does his best Heinrich Himmler impersonation.  Live and work in the alternate universe, where everyone is a neocon, King George the Dubberyar was born, and Jean-Luc Picard carries on like a real Frenchman.  Even Q is too scared to show his face there.

 

 

Humans!  Eat those bananas!  Time to feed the inner ape!

 

 

Always remember!  Bad puns will be punished!

 

 

 

 

 

No one could have believed in the opening years of the 21st century, that Limes with minds immeasurably superior to ours were studying us from the timeless worlds of space.  Slowly, but surely, they drew their plants against us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright (C) 2006-2008 Brian Brett.  All rights reserved.


 


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