The fallen angel, suspected terrorist, keeper of souls, habitual masturbator, pro-Chaucer and Democrat has aggrieved to appear on the ballot with long-time friend, business associate and fellow mister of deceit Barack Obama.
"A vote for Obama is a vote for me" Satan himself said wearing a grin from oar to oar.
The two Satanists, in the same boat, believe that killing children is the American way and running with scissors on wet tails.
God, strangely silent for the last few centuries, is a vocal campaigner for the innocent.
"I'll do everything in my power to save the lives of children," the all mighty one told scribes who had smoked the burning bush as Japanese Vealers remembered Hiroshima.
The two camps, Good and Evil, are, for the first time, to go head to horny head in a vote that will at last bring Armageddon.
"We can't wait," a cured foetus told the pus-driveller on the way to school.
God, tired, is on the record as vowing to send his son, conceived through unconsentual sex and out of wedlock to another man's wiff, to sort out the white from the wrong.
"Jesus, that's me!" he said, wanking up late one day.
We're all adults here.
Body-hoarding gimp, ruglord, mister of disguise and indecent until proven quilty man Tony Mokbel has pointed the thinger squarely at the woman he described as "bossy-britches" in stunning revelations to be aired soon.
"She looks like a regular person," Fat Tony told Jenny Craig as he sat down to a calorie contorted regime.
"But inside beats the heart of person with clogged arteries," the overwrought Mokbel snorted while slipping on a Diet Coke.
Mokbel claims that he was merely a poppet for Corby, who he also describes as "about 75kgs".
"That puts her street value off the graph!" he muttered to inquiring soap-makers.
The claims are refuted strangely by Corby's mother, who has reason to believe that Corby, on the run in leotards, has lost weight recently.
"I'm sending a convoy of obese Australians over to see Mokbel," she confessed to her father, for she had sunned, herself.
"The whole thing is going to blow up in his face!" she exclimbed, downering a hymnburger with the lit.
Salt and sugar are not drugs.
Lord, no!
The Jews are poised to attack sinful city of sunny Sydney as the Pope takes off to launch attacks on World Youth Day.
"These measures are our preferred course of action," said one money-grubber as he awaits a messiah who has already left.
The train doesn't carry anyone, unhardly.
The Pope, chosen by God to represent his interests - financial and strategic - here on Earth, has asked God forgiveness for "not whipping them out when I had the chance."
We underpantstand he was stalking about a very naughty boy.
Sydney, a citadel on the rocks, is hoisting the unction - World Youth Day, to spread the weird.
The massage is the medium.
Australia, a ticking time bomb planted by the British cistern of justice, and full of the moribundly obtuse, is ready to explode, say starving Africans.
The striving Africans, also planted by the British sister of justice: prudence, have been dying to say something on this issue.
Their spokesman, Chilean duct-taper Robert Mugabe - responsible for the deaths of people, says that he's a machete for any man.
Westerly windy duck-tappers are Emocryptically elocuted.
"I'm more than a match for you fews," Mugabe said as he got a Brazilian under his nostril and waved his staffer in the hair.
Africans, no longer Slavs, their hands on the snips, are set to cut the cord with their colonial mothers, winch and four walls.
Colonialism is a mother of a thing at the beast of tames.
Yours says hi.
As predelicted by ALP soothslayer and acclaimed French siren Gerard Depardieu (pictured), the formerly heavily pregnant tinkerer of evil thoughts and Liberal stalled-wart gave a wide birth to the demon in a ritual's laughter.
"I hate to say I told you so," the flagrant frog told the depressed mother as Dr. Nelson delivered the demon from the evil clutches of the Liberal party drink tank.
In a mark of the best and brightest, we are represented by huff-wits and snakey ladders.
"Keep your nose out of my business, de Bergerac!" the expectant mater told Depardieu as dentists inspected her cavities.
The demon seed, in an ominous warming for the human-annoyed race, is expected to become the next Australian idol.
Damien Leith, the last idol and gnome's sick, was on hand to welcome his holy darkness into his farcical manifestation.
"He's got a green horn!" saucy nurses salivated as they cut the cards and handed the little bundle of jaws over too.
Evil thoughts carry evil deeds to the lower house and beyonder, bubby.
Hated in the UK for his fondlingness of Her Mingesty but loved in Great Britain for his treatment at the hinds of Phil the Greek, former Australian Prime Monster Paul Keating has revealed all to no one.
"Yes, she loved me. Yes, she adored me." the one time lover of Princess Diana told Elton Johnians.
The revelations come as no surprise to the maniac himself as he, Elton himself, told hairdressers: "There's going to be hell's toupee!" as he watched Keating's hairline.
The Greek Phil, former fish and chopperer to the stars, has told Keating to keep his grubby hands of my wife.
I'm not even married.
"Only I can be her tampon," Phil told Keating in a heated car driven through Dianas's tunnel by the one-time buttlover.
Keating is staying in a cell as the whole thong combs over.
"This isn't quite what we meant by padded," Phil told consumers of his fish sticks.
Watch this spice.
Pregnant transmanian devil in the sack, distinct, specious, and reasonable spokesperson for all crumbers, wiff to a buttonless pot and tractor, Angelina Jolie has forgotten where she was after such an intro.
"All I can say is that making your own is more fun," she said after pressing the buzzer to the question while her dildo was awry on holiday.
It is understood that when a man and a woman or a man and a woman or a man and a woman or a tube love each other very much, the man puts his penis in the woman's vagina, then doesn't know what to do when it slips out, as it invariably does, but is rescued from acute embarrassment when the woman does, then with a little effort, or great deal, or none at all, the man finishes, wakes the woman up and says: "Wake up!".
I think there's someone downstairs.
Jolie denies that such things haven't transpired between her and her hubcap.
"Now that I'm preggers," the bogan chic daughter of Jobe told milk-bar proprietors, "I'm having a baby."
Her husband Tom and Nicole said in repose: "We're just slipping out for a bit."
Impossible.
The jury found the defendant 7 Across Not innocent because Libra The scales will be tipped against someone with good reason.
The judge, a manager with a funny wig and a smashing hammer, was at a loss to describe the justice cistern.
"I can't believe people would believe their astrological reading was accurate," the judge said as a Jehovah's witness swore on the Bible.
"I swear by it," the witness told unwitting householders.
They had to be invited in for a battered scone.
The guilty man, undeniably so, faces a lengthy sentence.
"I hope it's not too long," said the head juror, cryptically.
"I get bored if they're too long," he noted vertically.
Tattslotto will be drawn tonight.
The vertically challenged giant of America has suffered a mild concussion after the roof fell in on her when she tried to change a lightbulb on the chandelier.
"How many women does it take to change a lightbulb on a chandelier?" paralegals asked her to test the veracity of her concussion.
Her answer, believed to be incorrect, was: "What's being a woman go to do with changing anything?"
The heftily concussed former thirsty lady, believed to be intoxicated, denied claims she was changing anything.
"Hang on," she had earlier told husband Bill as he clutched her legs.
He denied that he had been bad lick for the former farced lady.
"She's worked like a slave for change but they've gone for a slave for a change," Bill said, off on a tangerine.
The bland, leading the bland, have met with their one true mister - a one-eyed wizard with one hand down his pants and the other down yours.
"I mean you no harm," he said stroking a severed head of letters.
It is understood the King, an objective observer and ghastly superior, sees everything and in great depth.
"I hate it when issues get personal," the intellectual giant beseeched his hairdresser, who primly blabbed to the Medea.
The bland, unable to read between the lines, appointed their king in a lavish ceremony that pleased their lord and masturbator.
"My kingdom for an accolade!" the King told his optometrist as he tried on another set of spectacles.
The King will be trying to write his weight out of a wet paper bag to show off his mate.
"I am the Queen of the world!" he shouted, straddling his sinking shit.
His ship don't stink.
Those unwilling victims who unfortunately succumbed to the irresistible charms of kiddie-pornographer, terrorist sympathiser and drug boss, Bill "Mad Dog" Henson now tell of their years of torment in front of his vaselined apparatus.
"He used to really smear it on," said one recently formed adolescent with a fanny gate.
The victims were assembled by harmless community leaders who were licking for some action of their own.
"Unfortunately these kids are no longer kids at all," one federal policeman said as his download finished.
"It's thanks to these disgusting images of the human body that we should all fear the human body," a crusader for the righteousness of their own egocentric altruism stated.
Bill Henson, himself now undead, probably wishes he was.
A convention of leading scientists has descended into a lascivious and quite unnatural gay orgy when an irate homosexual denied his very existence.
"The facts are that I find other men very arousing," the fridge-picker told his closet before the affair turned heated and avuncular.
Nothing cod be further from homosexuality than a love of hard facts.
"I love a hard fact as much as the next man, or the man next to me," the delicate creature told his floppy.
It was indeed this display that set the scientific fruiternity into a frenzy of budgie-snuggling that only ended with severe camping.
"Homosexuals are so gay!" he said with the proof of his very nature in his hands.
Homosexuality, with its roots in homo meaning arse and sexuality meaning penchant, is the latest phenomenon to threaten our very back doors.
"I'm not letting anyone near my back door," the homodenier said stroking his telescope as he peered into a black hole after the affair was over, his hunger quenched.
"Except him!" he said pointing out something very bright in the distance.
Homosexuals have quite rightly earned the froth of the new zealous with their fragrant disregard for the rights of others.
I can smell one from a smile off.
Granny award whining focalist Mariah Carey's charred body has been discovered by an obese fan.
"I found her in my fireplace," the fried chicken magnet told reparters.
It is understood the fan had earlier abducted Miss Carey from her electrolysister's house.
"I'd been listening to her latest hit single," the fanatic said, as he tucked into a breast.
"Torch my body, throw me on the fire," the fetching fanatic sang as police hoisted him to safety.
It's the first time Carey has gone charcoal.
Miss Carey's press secretary has hosed down the fireplace.
"There'll never be another like her," he mused.
Scientists are working hard to destroy her genetic material just to make sure.
“Is it safe?”
“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!”
“Is it safe?”
“Is it safe?”
“Is it safe?”
“Is what safe?”
“Is it safe?”
“What?”
“Is it safe?”
“Like a house.”
“So it is safe then, that’s a relief. I was very worried there for a moment.”
“Me too, but now I know it’s safe, I can relax.”
“Frankly, is it safe?”
“I don’t give a damn!”
“Is it safe?”
“Exceedingly!”
“Very well.”
“Very!”
“Well, I don’t even know any more.”
“It is safe.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, yes. Very safe. Very, very safe.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“If it wasn’t, would I say it was?”
“I don’t know you that well.”
“Well, I do.”
“Knowing you, I’d say not.”
“Yes, but you don’t.”
“All I want to know is if it’s safe.”
“I keep telling you that it is.”
“What?”
“It!”
“It’s safe to say it’s not safe then.”
“It is safe.”
“Is it safe, is it? Is it really?”
“Really, really safe!”
Comments (8)
Add Comments
