Legendary leader Nero has told journalists that while Rome burned he dueted with his "wrinkly old fella".
The now deceased "old fella" has told necromantics to go and get a life as part of his campaign of Zombie horror.
Historians, most of whom love nothing more than some fiddling with their own fathers, believe that to harp on endlessly is music to our rears.
"Dried prunes are better," said Nero's father, "but just give me brains."
Brains are the staple of most sharp-pencils.
2B or 4B, that is, which pencil should I use to shove up my nostril and into my brain?
Brains are a grave matter, believe most necronuerologists.
Beloved oddball sitcom character Bhutto, the whacky neighbour of Osama, has been killed off after a ratings slump that saw the hit show "Paki Stan" slip towards democracy.
"I wish my brother George wasn't here" said one viewer.
Angelina Jolie, who played the role of Bhutto, told reporters outside her house, "This is the pits."
It is believed that the world has always been a microwave with a baby in it.
Before going inside to have her servants cook for her, Jolie said something inaudible.
She, according to bizarre but totally understandable religious laws, has been rumoured to have been upset with her "flat lines" anyway.
Democracy, which is understood to have been invented by Americans in 20 BC, is not perfect but it's an easy system to rig so that the rich always come out richer.
Paki Stan, played by Imran Khan and a host of others, has never been good in the field but has produced some good moustaches over the ears.
Literary midgets today called for the shortening of pastry in a bid to find spiritual nourishment over the fasting season.
The midgets, many of whom are prone to short and curlies, are believed to be looking for a pot of gold at the end of a flyblown carcass.
"Pots of gold taste better on a hot day" said one while playing with a peanut.
The pursuit of money should always take precedence over the pursuit of truth.
Giants of the paddocks backing on to the land of midgets have remained silent and sullen.
The Hollywood drones, who sweep up elephant crap at the circus while writers of substance walk the tightrope, have released a written statement in which they have categorically denied they are "queens".
The drones' behaviour has been labelled "sweet" and "thick" by label-makers.
They bumble around in a terrifying and pitiful dance that distinguishes the behaviour of "all small insects".
Hollywood producers, men with phoney-tales, are understood to have little understanding of nourishing complements.
One avid viewer has asked, "If nothing lands on a producer's desk this year, let it be a script that has something pertinent and insightful to say."
Mindless entertainment has its place, but it's not above work of dramatic power.
Anti-war activists have engaged with their bitter American rivals in peace rallies to protest their righteousness.
Some experts in the field of infantilism have labelled the combatants "silly sausages".
The combatants themselves, from both sides of the political vents, have labelled each other "sillier sausages".
"I am not a silly sausage, but I know what it's like to be in bread." a left leaning anti-war campaigner said while reloading his high-tech weapons of fruity wetness.
"All I can see is pricks, and that's good news for sausages." he said, before bathing in his own vaingloriousness.
Armed with two appendages the length of a sausage, all sausages are far from silly and closer to short-sighted than stupid.
Waging war comes naturally to every single member of the rat-race.
The fertility of warts never ceases.
From The Age:
A masturbator studied in changing rooms in Kmart because he was under exam stress, a court heard yesterday.
But a judge said he doubted this was the whole story because he had a report that suggested the 24-year-old was sexually aroused by trying on new trousers.
However, Judge Gregory Ross in the end decided not to convict the masturbator, who admitted offensive behaviour in the store, and banned publication of his name. He ordered a $100 payment toward the cost of prosecution.
It happened in the middle of the day on December 5, Sergeant Chris Whitmore told the hushed court.
The student went into the changing rooms with two pairs of trousers, pulled down his own trousers, sat on the floor of one of the rooms, and began his venture into learning.
But there was a metre gap between door and floor and two people saw what he was doing.
The police were called and the man confessed, Mr Whitmore said.
Defence lawyer Steve De Vorms said stress before his client's final exams was the most likely explanation for what he did, which came "completely out of the blue".
But Judge Ross then said there was a suggestion in a report he had that it might also have come about through the defendant trying on new trousers.
"This was a private act in a public place." he said.
Mr De Vorms said the "cramming" was an aberration, something his client wasn't proud of.
A conviction could have "very, very far-reaching effects" on him as he sought work, he said.
For this reason he asked for a yellowy discharge.
Judge Ross said the defendant's offending was at the lower end of the scale.
People could see him, but he couldn't see them.
A conviction would be "out of all proportion" to the seriousness of the offence, especially with the defendant seeking a job at a district health board, he said.
Judge Ross told the man publication of his name would also have had "huge consequences", and discharged him without conviction.
Confident that the world is no longer in danger of a nuclear holocaust but in the grip of impending environmental doom, experts believe that no new "end of the world scenarios" can be concocted or believed by the anxious public.
"We are very concerned about the hysteria surrounding hysteria. We need to make people aware that we are the first people ever that face challenges that threaten our survival", said one hysterical expat.
It's a shortage that could see the proliferation of resources to new fields and the growth of a new stain of deadly parasites.
With the world set to end for the last time some time in the near future, people across the globe are preparing to switch of their globes so that others can bask in their light.
"Every epoch has faced its own end, with one result: forgetfulness." claims the litigant in a case for carrying cosmetics.
When asked about what they'll do when the last apocalytic theory has finished, most people believe, according to a survey conducted by a homeless man, that they'll find a way to carry on some other distractive behaviour.
If the world does end in doom, I said it first.
Idiots across the surface of this flat planet continue to consume more of everything that they don't need any at all of.
An incredibly loud, hysterical voice has said, "We won't be silenced on anything. Especially valium."
A discrimination case being brought against a Sydney bordello by working-girls will hear the grunts and groans of a blokey culture.
Blogs around the world are set to join in the fight against prostitution with leading blogs calling for writing about particular topics in order to satisfy the demands of search engines, increase traffic and increase revenue.
Any attempts to do otherwise will see working whores thrown out into the dark alleys of the net.
"This culture of sailing out is something new to the harbour-city." said a leading socialist.
The prostitution ring has engulfed a shitload of dills.
The hard-working and god-feeling blokes at the center of the soggy-biscuit contest have told the madam to put anything on her blog that doesn't challenge the existing order.
The existing order is for a blonde.
America's first baglady Britney Spears has surrendered to the undeniable charms of Presidential aspirin and father-figurine Clinton.
"I have showered her in my love." Clinton said aloft a wonky shopping trolley.
Spears has denied claims that she's a reflection of the undeniable talentlessness of music consumers with more money than sins.
"I am the undeniable product of the women's lip-operation movement."
Teenage girls grow into women.
The world is a better place now than it was in the past.
"I believe in prozac." Spears told herself before drifting off.
Clinton denied that she's ever played volleyball or served a spike.
"I did not have sexual relations with that man - Mr Clinton." Clinton said before the mirror as she shaved this morning.
On her way out, the door shut.
The backbone of a spineless industry, the writers, have said that there is no end in sight to the strike that is crippling the production of Hollywood shit.
The writers have made some concessions to producers ahead of Christmas saying that they are prepared to churn out a few scripts of dubious quality in exchange for a pretty girlfriend and a sports car to share between them.
The scripts, consistent with a Shakespearean format, aren't worth the wood chips they're printed on, said one disgruntled waiter.
I'm hard pressed to name a single American dramatist of any substance, said another.
The producers, a group of manipulative rapists who belong behind bars sipping vinegar, are paid sums of money that are in accord with the quality of the product that they produce.
Reading from a prepared statement one writer said, "We, our group of chivalrous whores, won't be writing anything of quality until we turn critically to look at the society that sustains us."
A man on stilts calls for higher doorways.
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