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Consumption Malfunction - reader's indigestion

Abbott pushing for Garrett's sacking

February 28th 2010 00:18
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A SOLDIER allegedly waterboarded his four-year-old daughter because there is an unwritten law which has it that the rules of language are important to all people in the position to impose impositions on others. Now, I'm not one to try to pull the proverbial over your proverbial, but I swear to God. For one thing, it's hard to ascertain what kind of intelligence could be extracted from a four-year old. Far be it from me to question the aspirations of the military, but it seems to me that questions should be asked of this little infant. Terrible questions. Perhaps a test of aptitude is in order. I think for God's sake we should be very interested to know what kind of information the child has. It seems obvious that the pallid pupil must be protecting potentially perilious people from being exposed before they can perpetrate their hateful slanders on the name of democracy. In this way let it be established, between the author and the reader, that the inability to manage language at an atomic level (letters of the alphabet) should be handled in a way that makes it easy to remember.

For some reason, I have decided to start a new paragraph, which seems obvious to even the most illiterate pre-schoolers. To generalise from the particular in this particular instance seems to be generally acceptable. To protect the safety of those generally able to read I think we can both enter into an unwritten arrangement to strengthen the security and sanctity of the sacrosanct authority of the self-respecting author over the supposed reader. The nature of the unwritten arrangement might also entail a clause which states that at any time the author should be able to distance himself from any awareness of the arrangement, by pointing out some aspect of a difficult subject. To guarantee the effectiveness of the agreement, the reader should comply with all the boundaries inherent in the relationship. They should at all times respect the authority of the person who has control of the means of communication. In this instance, the author is the person capable of arranging accepted terms (words) into some kind of established order. Where the author (person) has sourced his words from should at all times be kept hidden from the reader so as to fortify the illusion the person(author) is in some sense an authority. The reader, in the strictest sense, should always be made to feel that in some way the arrangement of accepted terms (written piece) is important. The author who claims to be a reader is a popular ploy of the plainly fraudulent and should be met with the utmost popularity.

For no other reason than I've got a couple of kangaroos loose in my lunch-box, I thought we could do with a new paragraph - and what's more it relates to our subject at hand. A written piece should never stray far from its subject matter because in this way a reader is taught to narrow their mind down to a sharp point. A reader's mind should never be left with the impression that there are a myriad of possibilites because an author is at all times negligent in his duties if he thinks that an arrangement of terms should not close with a conclusion. It is the very nature of the agreement that an arrangement of terms should close with something that a reader can sign off on. It is for this reason that the author should find it necessary to torture an illiterate reader with whatever methods deemed appropriate to the cause of establishing the boundaries between the author and the reader. In such a case where an argument over the author's denial of the very existence of their authority arises, the author should at all times deny any knowledge of even the argument itself. To deflect attention away from the true nature of the mind of the author (obscure), the author should find it necessary to defer to some other author who has established at some other point a grip on the reader in such a way as to qualify themselves as authoritarian.

It is at this juncture that we might find it necessary to say there are some authors who find it profitable to establish the link between themselves and the reader and write long sentences that just seem to go on and on without recourse to punctuation. Let it be stated that such things are generally the efforts of children and the illiterate. In such a case where the credibility of the author is called into question, it is usual that the reader should be made to feel quite at home. In the case of the illiterate the home environment is often not dissimilar to something that words can't readily paint a pretty picture of. On the other hand, the reader who deliberately and knowingly refuses to sit at the negotiation table with the authorities is the true author of ignorance, because the terms of the arrangement have it that the author brings to the reader information - not vice versa. Ironically enough, the unwritten arrangement would be most profitable over the illterate because they can't read. But because they can't read they can't be readers. Such is the eternal predicament of the author as they endeavor to add their names to the long list of authoritarian rulers who have managed their subjects with the aid of convention. How about a photo? That should ensure a few more readers.
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John Howard has a hard time seeing
Howard, who can screw his face, has a vision for Australia and is a regular shit

He says he has laid a Reith for his country. Now, Australia's last Prime Minister, John Howard, gives us his tips for the race that stops a nation.

"The race that stops a nation," Howard writes, "is made up of a lot brown and black animals. Without the proper training they'll turn to glue."

"The thing that really interests me," he goes onto write, "is the little people who sit naked in the sauna sweating. In the sauna, nobody can hear you scream."

"I might be a one-eyed caucasian," Howard writes, "but that doesn't mean I can't see things from the left side. I have a hidden camera in my glasses."

"My tip?" Howard muses, "If you're caught lying naked in a motel room in Brisbane with a naked girl, pretend you're Aboriginal. They get special treatment."

Today, you can expect to see Howard out and about with a pair of binoculars. He might just be living next door. He might just be watching your kids.

John Howard's Babysitting
We'll Watch Your Kids For Free. Hands On Child Care.
www.xxx-learning-centres.com
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Introducing, my subject matter in the form of a photograph, with a snappy caption.

From a personal perspective, based on experiences a, b and c of x, y and z, my subject matter makes me feel p, q and r, and so should you. You should feel p, q and r for reasons related to the logical conclusions I have drawn from experiences a, b and c and represent as points l, m and n.

Should you choose to ignore the lines joining points l, m and n, which represent a, b and c, then the consequences for you will be that you might miss a point. If you were to miss a point, let’s say point l, then you would have nothing to draw you to your own experiences - represented by l, m and n, i.e. experiences a, b and c.

To draw you to experience a, represented by point l, in any other way would be virtually impossible; rendering emotion p, for which experience a (represented by point l) invariably produces, non-existent; meaning in my life would cease to exist. The loss of meaning in my life, represented by the meaning escaping you, would render point a, or any other aspect of the equation, equal to nothing.

If you choose to enter into the equation, by adding your interest to the equation, the product of our mutual understanding in this matter would equal meaning in my life and, your life. For the sake of meaning, add something of your own to the equation in the form of comment n. (Where n exists, the addition of my comment in the form of k equals the addition of more comments and is represented by the equation n plus k = n and k)

You, for whose benefit I reconstructed my experiences of x, y and z in the form of l, m and n, which are greater than but not equal to yours, understand what I’m saying here. My point of view (divided by points l, m and n) on x, y and z is greater than, but not including, yours. Hell, I might even add a bad word to add weight to my points.

In conclusion, just joking with a snappy little line about so long.

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President Barack Obama had a blunt status update for America's permanently wired youth on Tuesday: your Facebook postings could come back to haunt you.

''They get out of sight … [and] most of them have a toilet roll tucked away,'' he told journalists in Darwin. ''They're shitting on a sacred site.''

He said workers, especially young staff, needed to be properly trained to operate nail guns, which have sensitive triggers that can be easily activated.

"This is indoctrination, pure and simple, into the cult of Barack Obama, and we are opposed to that," he said.

The President did win support from the Republican side of the aisle, as former first lady Laura Bush backed his right, as head of state, to be a woman.

She did not require medical treatment, The Daily Telegraph reports.

Her family is of Polish origin, a country where many of the worst Nazi concentration camps, including Auschwitz, were located.

"It's amazing how, in order to accept her, we have to turn her into our stereotypical image of what a woman should be," Colleen Lowe Morna of the advocacy group Gender Links said in The Times newspaper.

"One day I'd like to move to the country and spend my days making jam and baking cakes," she said.

Two years later, still posing as a woman, he set a new world high jump record for women of 1.70m - but was disqualified after a doctor discovered that he had strapped up his genitals.

Stun guns, cannabis, ecstasy, pills, a large sum of cash and a handgun and ammunition were seized, police said.

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Mr Rudd, branded a "sexual predator" over two years of violent rapes along Brisbane bikeways, told students at the Australian National University about an error he made as a junior envoy in Beijing.

"I deeply regret any activity by a staff member which may have led to a fetus or body part being disposed of improperly," he said in a statement.

He said women were quite reluctant to receive kisses on the lips.

In an "affadavit", he said he had the ability to "control sound with my mind and have developed a device for others to witness this phenomena".

He said a number of people were being interviewed to help investigators establish whether the claims were true.

Judge Irwin also noted the series of "premeditated and systematic" attacks were escalating in violence.

He became increasingly fanatical about religion, bursting into song on random occasions and claiming God spoke to him through a box.

The antenna used to transit was beaming to 302 gigawatts or the equivalent energy of 302 billion mobile phones or every person on earth sending 50 texts at one time.

At one point, he expressed hesitation about whether his actions were proper.

"In the last couple years he started getting into this strange religious stuff. We kind of felt sorry for him," said Tim Allen, president of East County Glass and Window Inc in Pittsburg, California.

"Understand what I'm talking about?"

But don't hold your breath for an immediate response as it will take four decades for a reply to reach Earth and that's only if the messages are received by intelligent life that understand them.

Facebook, which lets users share pictures, videos, news stories, opinions and private and public messages, has 12 million Canadian users.




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Man's penis stuck in park bench

July 25th 2009 01:12
A MAN is lucky to still have a penis after he inserted it in a metal park bench and became stuck, doctors say.

The metal park bench, believed to be Amy Winehouse, had previously pulled off a different man's penis but let this man get away with his whole.

"We will use the scar tissue from this painful mistake to help make better decisions going forward, ones that match our mission."

"It is wholly self-inflicted, and we deserve the criticism we've received," he said.


State television said the accident occurred as the plane was landing at the international airport in Mashhad, a popular Shi'ite Muslim pilgrimage centre in northeastern Iran.

"We believe the two incidents are related," the man said, acquainting himself with a pair of handcuffs, "but I swear to God I know how to land a big steel bird."

Winehouse, dressed in a knee-length black skirt, grey jacket and white shirt, initially looked confused. On her way out of the hospital, she told reporters: "I'm relieved. I'm going home."

Outside court, a spokesman added: "She's always maintained her innocence and is very happy to move on with her life and put the episode behind her."


Winehouse, a mangled mess of deconstructed hardness and unable to handle the burden of her life as a piece of public property, is unwilling or unable to move on.

GERMAN tourists can now reserve their poolside recliners before they have even left home.

"This is good," a German tourist said, kicking it with a pair of soccer boots. "Some of us hardly can wait to get our bottoms back into a bit of comfort."
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Pope Benedict is in good condition and celebrated mass as usual on Saturday, a day after undergoing minor surgery on a broken wrist, the Vatican said.

"These things certainly teach you a lesson and I have certainly learned from my mistakes," he said yesterday. "No more wanking in the shower."

The 25-year-old man stormed into one of the classes on Thursday (local time) carrying a spear and ordered the pupils to leave their room at Ncabaneni high school, 60km south of the capital Mbabane, a police spokesman said.

Speaking for the city, Gaudin said "we are very touched that a singer of her stature and talent has demonstrated such extraordinary human qualities" with this visit.

The US pop star, who was warming up for a concert in Udine, Italy when she heard of the accident, said she was "devastated."

"I think I speak on behalf of all Australians when I say Satan made his wishes clear in the bible time and time again. Foster's Lager tastes like cat's piss."

The police first spotted the 28-year-old Satan in a Kia Carnival minivan swerve across the southbound carriageway of the Hume Highway, near Jugiong, north west of Canberra, around 10am on Saturday.

"The sorbet is absolutely beautiful," judge George Calombaris said.

But the toddler wasn't impressed when starstruck customers sat at their table, just seconds after the Pope stood to leave.

"We're open minded but we believe Satan has done a great job convincing man that there is no good and evil, I don't believe there's any reason for undue concern at this point in time."

The source told the newspaper that the investigation is "so far away" from completion and warned that "there's a car coming!."

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Spector is behind some of the best bars in history

Legendary plastic surgeon Phil Spector has gone on the attack over allegations anti-anxiety campaigner Xanax caused him to botch a lip, hand and nose job that may have ultimately put him in the slammer.

"I could be relatively insane," Spector said, comparing himself to legendary avant-garde performance artist Charles Manson, "I mean you can't just go into the operating theatre and shoot your mouth off," he said, shooting Sharon Tate's mouth off.

Spector, one hairy mother, had earlier scared off a hairless little number, when he went to climb aboard, what he thought was, his mother's hip only to find that she had had the thing replaced with a plastic one.

"My dear old mum," Spector said, blowing his dribbler, "is so cheap and nasty," he said, wrapping her in glad wrap. "she's never paid me for that nose-job I gave her," he said, giving himself one.

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"I really miss my old nose."

Spector's mother's hip, as big as a spaceship, has been responsible for getting the old girl from her bed to the bathroom with a range of movements not seen since Beethoven was getting ripped off by her son.

"I take my hat off to Beethoven," Spector said, paying tribute to the musical hair-stylings of Ludwig, "because I don't know how he coped with all the teasing," he said, looking at a long stretch.

Xanax, methadone for heroin addicts, was unable to be reached today because, according to Spector's dear old mum: "Somebody put them on top of the bookcase," and that's way too high.
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A bizarre cult that had infiltrated a public forum, after getting caught perpetuating a hoax, has chucked it in after their leader, a castrated bully, turned his toes up.

"I've had it with this world," one cult member said, playing "Follow the Leader", "and I won't be coming back," she barked, following the leader. "It's against my religion."

The bizarre cult, loosely drawing on the idea that life follows death, had managed to keep their childish games hidden from those who would seek them out in this world.

"We were doing quite well there for a while," their castrated leader barked, sniffing out some arsehole, "and then we were found hiding behind a stack of the good books."

The bizarre cult, unable to confirm if there's life after death, are able to deny that there isn't because of what they found while hiding behind a stack of the good books.

"If you're going to hide behind a stack of books," one follower explained, "then you'd better make damn sure that they're the good ones," she went on. "Do you follow?"

The bizarre cult, making critical appraisals of works of fiction, have booked their flights aboard the suicidal train of thought after being unable to follow a few simple rules.

"If the game is dismantling a public forum," a second-hand dealer, explained, "then the idea is not to get caught working in the place where people go to play."
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News Corp's MySpace refused to comment on Thursday on a report the previous day that said the online social network will fire a "massive" number of employees.

"We have seen a record number of our people update their status," News Corp's MySpace said on Friday, "to not working," MySpace said, sensing a rapid swing in mood towards a "depression."

Which is why the people at Kraft Foods took the advice of more than 300,000 Australians before they meddled with Vegemite.

"We've taken on board what our friends at MySpace have told us," the people at Kraft Foods said, sailing off into the horizon. "They told us that they're fed up with the same old shit," they said.

The 'Pirates of the Caribbean' actor admits he wasn't ready to settle down when he wed make-up artist Lori Anne Allison in 1983 and is pleased they never started a family.

"As I told friends," he said, "I think I really dodged a bullet," he said, breeding profusely from a wound. "It's going to take me a while to get over this," he said, looking at a valley of Vegemite.

A Melbourne academic says shutting down Facebook hate groups is not the way to combat "rising levels of intolerance" in Australia.

"Hate is a symptom of some underlying disease," he said, hitting the books. "You can't spell it without having eaten," he said, pointing to the professor's underlying uneasiness.

IN 29 years of enforcing sewage laws in Pennsylvania, Jack Crislip has never faced violators quite like the members of the ultra-conservative Swartzentruber Amish sect.

"At some point this shit has to stop," Captain Jack said, showered in shit. "It's getting to the point where it's getting right up my nose," he said, blowing his brains out his nose.

The result of those consultations, and nine months of tinkering with ingredients, is the first variation in 85 years on an astonishingly successful theme.


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AN erotic dance craze is thought to be the cause of a recent spate of broken penises in Jamaica, and now faces a government crackdown.

"Yeah, mon!" one government official said, "I and I don't think it's irie, but it take two to tango," she said, cracking down hard on a broken penis.

"Daggering", made famous by broken penis-wielders behind Boris Yeltsin, has the intoxicating charm of a broken-down drunk high on power.

"Let us have waltz down memory avenue," Yeltsin said, returning to the political stage, "Watch me bust a move," he said, busting an already broken one.

Yeltsin, a broken man after "Daggering", had taken steps to increase his flexibilty for partners after the "Iron Curtain" was famously pulled by Russia's neighbours.

"I and I really need a drink," Yeltsin said, pulling the "Iron Curtain", a step made famous by Mikhail Gorbachev, "I and I going to be laid up for a week."

Gorbachev, leading the way for right-wing nancy Ronald Reagan, had famously "snapped one off" in leading lady Margaret Thatcher's dry arsehole.

"Nancy and I," Thatcher said, speaking of her right-sided arsehole Reagan, "Have made some daring moves," she said, "Glasnost is not one."

Reagan, an arsehole in the pocket of the highest bidder, had famously cracked a "Spaz", a move made famous by retards on the side of the right.

"I think," Gorbachev said, getting down, "Openness and transparency could be huge in the West," he said, making a move he had dubbed "Glasnost".

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Sex workers angry about the cost of advertising in local papers will mark International Whores Day on Tuesday by protesting outside NSW Parliament House.

"We want TAFE accreditation too," a whore said, "We want recognition for our set," another said of their skills, finishing off the other's sentence, which is extra, extra.

International Whores Day, celebrated with the trampling of frustrated men at the hands of rampaging whores, is likened to The Running of the Bulls.

"This year it will be different," a whore said, "I hope to get off the gear and get out of my abusive relationship and see my daughter," she said, giving it to a man.

International Whores Day, celebrating the oldest trade known to man, is the brainchild of a bunch of whores who are generally thought to be "fucked in the head".

"We want what everybody wants," a whore said, "We want to be free," she said, handcuffed for the want of freedom, her brains being beaten in by some poor fucker.

International Whores Day will this year celebrate the oldest trade known to man with the exchange of labour, in the form of money, for services rendered.

"Look," one tradesperson said, "I can give you a quote, but you won't like it," the whore said, "Let's hurry up and get this over with," she said, quoting an unnamed source.
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Controversial former Telstra chief Sol Trujillo has taken a swipe at Australia, describing the nation he called home for four years as racist, backward and like "stepping back in time".

"Living and working in Australia took like four years off my life," Trujillo said, eating a flat-bottom on ABC Radio, "All in all, it was like a very costly time of my life, okay?" he said.

The controversial former Telstra chief took this opportunity to thank the taxpayer for letting him use the can, after he ran out of credit and had to make a quick call to give his "two cents".

"You people like have a lot to learn," Trujillo mused, the line breaking up, "You know what I'm saying, grasshopper?" he said, jumping on all fours, "Grasshopper?," he asked.

Trujillo, a four-legged insect of some proportions, spent his second youth growing up smoking grass in the corn fields and slipping in and out of different states.

"This pot that I'm using is like the best shit I've ever had," he said, licking under the rim, "But like I don't think I'm in South America anymore," he said, lining his pockets with nuggets.

Trujillo, off to see Kevin Rudd, before needing to find a bucket, had to be paid out to the tune of "Insane in the Brain" after the line he was using snapped which left him holding an empty can.

"Are you trying to get like funny with me?" Trujillo asked, "Don't you know I'm local, essa?" he asked, making a big call, as he took another swipe at his ass, and moved right along.
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While the internet has dramatically changed lives around the world, its full impact will only be realised when far more people and information go online, its founders said on Wednesday.

"It's the greatest revolution in virtual reality since the Bible went into print. Now, let us play," said Tim Berners-Lee, one of the inventors of the Church of the World Wide Web, at a seminar in the future.

Tim Berners-Lee maintains that before the internet took hold, the Church of Scientology and its architecture educated the masses, somewhat erroneously.

"The days when people would look up to the Church and see meaning in a lot of icons are gone. Tom Cruise, guide us in, this, our darkest ire," said, Tim Berners-Lee, looking something up.

Tim Berners-Lee, one of the inventors of the Church of the World Wide Web, has helped bury the Church of Scientology and its teachings in a mass of letters, in detail.

The Devil.

"All we need now is some fat little German monk to start ordering the peasants around. God, please," said one of the inventors of the Church of the World Wide Web, attributing God as a source of inspiration.

Tim Berners-Lee, drinking a spider, has not found himself funny since he found his good name taken in vain to advertise the use of books as a learning tool, in a campaign to sell Wrigley's chewing gum.

"It's totally irreverant these accusations that I like to chew Wrigley's. I'm only on a diet of the Wrigley's," the Lutheran inventor of the Church told his dietician, as a bunch of peasants really got the point.

Jehovah, in an historic court ruling, lost his appeal before the High Court to have the Church reinstated as the teaching tool of the masses when, his Jewish counsel, Moses dropped a tablet to get, as he put it, "High".

No further witnesses.

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SOMALIA is too "volatile and unpredictable" for deployment of a United Nations peacekeeping mission that would help the war-torn African nation combat piracy off its shores, Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon says.

"We're looking at the problem of piracy as an ongoing one," said, Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon, planning his upcoming dinner engagements.

"We will be deploying special envoy Captain Jack Sparrow to try and recapture the hearts and minds of Captain Davy Jones, and other truly dark characters," he said, looking for a mirror to cast himself in a favourable light.

The situation in Somalia, a small country off the coast of Afghanistan, has been likened to a comedy from the grim pen of Dante, by none other than the poet himself.

"It's like something I'd do, only I wouldn't go it alone," his tour guide, Virgil said, going it alone after waking in a dark passage, to find the right way lost and gone.

The problem in Somalia, seen in relation to the problem of piracy, has been related to the UN by special envoy Jack Sparrow as the problem of acquiring a broken heart, from the chest of a dead man.

"Somalia has literally fallen into the abyss, and that's why I'm recommending to the UN that we recapture some of Dante in order that we can clone him back to life," special envoy Sparrow told his crew of liars and thieves, at the UN.

"Either that, or hop around madly on one leg until it falls off," he said, steering his shit off the edge of the earth, and clutching at his drawers.

Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon has pleaded with Captain Davy Jones to hand his broken heart over to the authorities, or risk having it stolen by Keira Knightley.


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United States President Barack Obama has praised the Rudd Government for showing "vision" on the domestic and international stages - but failed to say publicly what more he expects of it in Afghanistan.

"Before I consult my dark master (his wife), I always make sure I appear as human as possible. If I try and talk to her as a goat she says she finds it hard to talk to me," Obama confided.

"She's one hell of a woman. Do you see these nipples? What possible use do I have for these? It's not as though I ever take on the form of a woman, myself," Obama said, winking and nudging.

"Anyway, the main thing is, Rudd is by far the closest thing to pure evil outside of a dress. I don't know why he wears pants. If I had legs like that, I'd be wearing them over my shoulders," Obama said, his head over his heels for his wife.

"Really, on important domestic matters my dark master is my head-turner of a wife. She wears the pants around here," Obama said, pointing to his four legs as his breathtaking wife, masterful, beamed.

"I'm a shade or two lighter," Satan himself said, counting shades in his possession.

"Knowing her is like being in heaven, again. Hell, yeah," the fallen star, revealed, lighting up.

"I'm glad to say that I will be appearing (in human form) at a shopping centre near you. I'll be signing copies of my latest work of fiction. I call it The Holy Bible," he boasted, chewing through some rope.





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Disgraced protege of scurrulous ace and guttural reporter SportingMind, John Hopoate has reanimated his ailing career by entering into the inaugural fisting event held in Greece.

"He's got the goods, this kid," a Greek fister and black-market stall-holder told his go-between as Hopoate, shielded from the media by SportingMind, was put through some fisting manouevres.

"He's the best I've ever seen," SportingMind, on ambassadorial duties, told the world's media. "His mastery of the fist shows a deep understanding of what can be done with it."

The event, the first of its kind anywhere outside a Rugby League Stadium, involves a number of difficult fist-signals that competitors have to grapple with, but it's above the shoulders that the game is won and lost.

"The rules stipulate that the signal must be held above the shoulders for no fewer than 6 days, which makes it marginally more exciting than anything you could witness on the League field," SportingMind, a convert to the great game of Aussie Rules, said.

Hopoate, perhaps the eventual champion, has already demonstrated his understanding of the complexities of how insular a society ours really is by accidentally sticking his finger up at someone, at the wrong time.

"That someone wasn't me," Nine's Ken Sutcliffe, and former underwear model for Graham Kennedy, told his self, "but I sometimes wish it wasn't," a confused Sutcliffe read off a cue-card.


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The IOC has delivered stunning news to fans of fist-sports everywhere by officially announcing the 2012 Games as the first to feature a fist-sport: Rock, Paper, Scissors.

"Keen masturbators everywhere have waited a long time for this news. We're going to need a few minutes. Alone, please," a fist-sport spokesman told the world's waiting media.

The sport of Rock, Paper, Scissors is believed to have been invented in Iran by shepherds after they ran out of short straws and had to compete over the only camel.

The official fist-book on the great sport tells us:

The sport is played between two and sees the fists, white-knuckled, made into either a Rock which beats Scissors but loses to Paper, Scissors which beats Paper but loses to Rock, or Paper which beats Rock but loses to Scissors.

The sport is played over three or five or seven or nine or eleven or thirteen or any odd number up to infinity until one of the players wins more than the other by two.

There are matches still being played between families that have gone on since before the time of Jesus and may go on until someone drops the bomb, considered endgame in some circles.

The sport is the greatest thing a person can do with their fists other than slam it down onto a table and is much more or less preferable to other indoor-fist-sports.


"More than anything else, this sport, a great occasion for all who still have hands attached to their wrists," Iranian champion Salman Rushdie tells us, "is great for drawing attention to wankers."

"This is the greatest day in our history!" an Iranian villager told a passing F-16, shaking his fist belligerently, before having the arm that it was attached to blown off the torso that held the head, soon to be sent skywards, up.

The sport of Rock, Paper, Scissors is a thrilling spectacle that is seen by some as the fullest realisation of our abilty to curl our fingers into a fist and beat a bitter enemy with it.


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Superman versus Jesus, NEW BLOCKBUSTER

October 25th 2008 00:26
An unknown Producer, Jehovah perhaps, has written a blank cheque for Nietzsche to pit his cartoon character Superman against the suprisingly light-skinned Jesus in a NEW BLOCKBUSTER to be shown in time for the latter's birthday.

"It's not my birthday," a confused Jesus, trailer-park trash if ever there was any, told the stripper, later his wife, who jumped on the cake, as the birthday-boy, in his birthday suit, thanked his father and prepared for the fight of his life.

"I do things a bit differently. Instead of saving the world by saving the world, I'm going to save the world by effectively killing myself," the Superhero and wood-worker, told his legions of followers, some of whom helped devise the plot.

"While it's true that I can't fly, run very fast or stop a speeding bullet, I can suffer in my jocks, for nearly a day," Jesus, getting out of his birthday suit, said through his soap-strainer as, like the Sun's rays, he walked on water while someone watered the vineyard and the Sun turned the water into wine and the Sun rose after being betrayed by one of the twelve moons that seems to follow the Sun, as surely as Night follows day as surely as Religion is not the Personification of Nature, as surely as the Sun is the brightest star in the heavens above, and Jesus never shows his face at night.

Superman, a moral code of his own, an inspiration for nerdy journalists everywhere, his jocks on the outside, was, today, relaxing behind his typewriter as the battle, a one-sided affair if ever you saw one, prepares to hot up.

"The only thing that gets me is a piece of my past-life," Superman, secretly a reporter, told Jesus, in no way shape or form another name for the centre of a system of beliefs and in no way paralleled by the solar system, in a fine display of lunacy.

We tried to contact Jesus, through this medium we found on the internet, but instead we got Richard Wagner who offered this: "I want to tell my daughter that John Edwards is a liar. He is. I never talk to him. Also, Hitler was right all along. My old stuff is better than my new stuff."



78
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The Last Supper, a going awry dinner held for God's legitimate son, has found fitting repesentation, twice, in the thing used to constrict language, says author Dan Brown.

"Call me crazy, but don't call in without calling," the slightly unbalanced arranger of characters in an odour that rejects the chaos that sounds us on a dilly basis said, piddling his thumbs.

The Alphabet, two lots of twelve and one, is a fair refraction of God-knows-what but, there can be no question that at the centre of the fist sits a G and at the second sits a T, says Brown's moving lisp.

"A 'T' looks a lot like a cross to me and a 'G' looks like a snake," the clearly agnostic Brown revealed to his publisher's house-maid as she played for forgiveness to the largest thing in heaven: Jupiter.

Onlookerers contend that it's passable that the two separate supperers, things to saviour, represent two different shades of humane nature: the martyr and the snake, say onlookerers on the ugly mass.

"This idea that there are only 26 sounds the human mouth can alter," said speech therapists, "is false and what's more, I'll have the soup," they said as they examined a still beating brain.

The human brain, an organ used to boat blood around the rest, can hardly compute all the infirmation required to transcribe the sounds of nature into a finite code of characters, as others content that its hemispheres are a refraction.

"There is no question that English, for instance, is a Christian's luggage. I mean, its mission is to save people from themselves, and by that I mean line the pickets of a few," said stick-market crushers.



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The annual convention of control freaks has gathered together from around the glob to revive memories of a bitter war that erupted over Captain Cook's pungent ardour and sent civilization back centuries.

Back then, in the pre-industrious revolutionary days, man (an earthly perpendicular creature of God's making) sent himself around the planet - flat as it was - in search of bountiful wenches, to their relief.

It didn't take long for Captain Cook, a man who liked a look and a touch, I might add, to discover, for the first time in human history, two colonies of the monolithic empire of her majesty: Freddie Mercury MBE.

So warped was she with the find, she took out her sword and donned Cook with a knighthood: to the wide acclaim of the abhorred-originals - who didn't even know what a wheel was, really.

Of course, the natives of NZ, also shown the word of God and all that entails, were highly enamoured of the British but developed a jealousy, pathological you might say, of their Transient neighbours.

The only thing capable of satiating their need for revenge was to be found in - that bloodsport of international diplomacy - cricket; a game developed by the Brits and spread through the Empire like some sick virus.

It was in this endeavour that the sheep-fuckers plotted to get their cold, cold brand of justice on their hated rivals: us - by that I mean, you and me, by that I mean, naturally, Australians - and more particularly colonials.

It was in this spirit of neighbourly rivalry - not dissimilar from the Balkans - that the wool-grabbers informed the Umpire of their horrible underarms: to the general bewilderment of all members of the commonwealth.

Now, decades on, and our societies in a general sense of decay, they have decided to call our President a lefty; everyone knows the man, and he is - despite appliances: hair-straighteners and so on, - isn't!
52
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A word has no inherent meaning other than that which we attribute to it. If words were truth, a dog would be dog wherever you were. That a dog is not a dog in all parts of the globe speaks volumes for where the truth lies. A dog is a living panting thing, like a chair is a dead sitting thing. Chair means dog, if you and me understand that it does. It means nothing at all if there is no understanding. If you don't understand me, it's hadly my fault, now is it?

Chair, by that I mean dog, becomes a choir, if you understand that an A is more or less an O (both being vowelly flexible in their essential openness as sounds). "Ch" sounding like it should in the former and like a "Q" in the latter. How's that for logic! The letters that words are composed of having no direct relation to the sounds that they relate to. The sound of an A looks nothing like an A but is of course best represented as belonging to the mouth (not tongue) that forms the sound.

A wee slip of the tongue can turn any one word to another and any one word can be turned to a neighbour and become that neighbour. By that, every word is but a poor representation of another. A letter being only an actor for a real sound. A word being only an actor for a real thing. If it sounds like nonsense to you, then join the chew. In all this it's not drawing a long one to say that there is nothing we don't have a word for. Even nothing has a word: nothing. Even though nothing doesn't exist. Nothing isn't real. It's nowhere to be found.

Words and letters are tools. Absolute tools! It's not a stench to say that the way an animal uses body language and sounds to communicate is the same as us. That stinks! They form a shape with their body: a word, and match it with a sound: language, to get a root and a feed or to save their skin. They form sentences in the shape of groups for survival. Or is that the other way around? I have to talk my chair for a walk, so it's goodbye from me and it's goodbye from you. Goodbye :~)

87
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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.

43
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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.







66
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Talk about Apartheid bash

May 10th 2008 00:41
For he's a golly good fellow

One time terrorist and hero of the West, Nelson Mandela has revealed the guest list of his bathday bash exclusively to CM as part of his community service.

"When I was rotting in prison nobody wanted to know about me because I was a socialite, and then the Wall came down and suddenly the threat of a large black nation of socialites didn't worry the West any more, so they let me out of prison where I was sent for, of all things, being a terrorist," the Alzheimerish Mandela told the families of a host of dead black prisoners from the good old days.

Osama bin Laden, teleterrorist and concave-dweller, will, it is a secret so don't tell anyone, jump out of the cake and sing a rousing and extraordinary rendition.

Mandela's Molotov cocktail party will also feature pass the ticking parcel and pin the crime on the monkey.

The threat posed by whoreloads of Muslims is nothing like akin to that once poised by the same of enchanted apartheid sufferers.

"It's going to be a blast!" Osama shouted as the lighters went up.
57
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An angry mop, high on the intoxicating velour of war, has hurled rocks at sheep who thought that fighting for God and Country really meant that.

War, believed by many to be fertile, has to be seen to be bereaved.

"Cerebrating war does my head in," terminal head-case Norm said while getting stoned.

"We abhor those who sacrifice their lives," except when they're one of us.

There is a fundamentalist difference between sacrificing your life and the antics of a suicide bumbler.

The stoned diggers, we're sour well-meaning and good-fearing, are in no way advocates of peas.

Not the ones you get in a can, anyway.

"We don't advocate the blank-armband view of history," former kettle-prodders told the abhorred.

Except on this verily specious occasion.



48
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Embittered boggler Norm has spoken up about the looming crisis farcing the anklish languages in the wake of the dearth of indecent waiters.

"I'm a real nut-picker when it comes to waiters dotting their toes and crossing their eyes," the cross-eyed madman told his anal cyst.

Sporting pink-painted toenails and noticeably looking at the pong of his nose, Norm insists he's not a crass-drosser.

"Writhing should be fun," he noted as he removed a pencil from his pancreas.

"Not something that causes pride in simpering correctness," he scolded as he dropped a kettle over his head.

The battle for the right to righteousness is set to snail on.

74
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Ahmed(left) at an award ceremony held by Brenton(right)

Bogger to the stares and all-around could guy, Norm is reportedly devastated that his chums have talked to the Medea.

"They're made-up," he said of the stories his friends told to the winner of the wife and mother of the bimilennium.

His friends, Ahmed and Brenton - ghosts of the ceremonies, told sources that they aren't made up.

"We hold these thongs to be self-evident," they said in stereo.

"We reveal all," they said while brandishing their rank bottoms.

It is understood that men made themselves up in the time of Louis XIV.

"It was great then and it'll be great again," a delerious Norm told his beauty rapist.

88
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Angry title hits back at content

March 31st 2008 05:18
The title of this short, very short, piece has hit back at the clams of the content that there is nothing in it.

"I strongly deny that I have ever had anything to do with the actual content," the title told reporters waiting on their hands and feet.

It's a clam that the content has rejected in the strongest possible times.

"The title and I both know who's been leading who," the continent told shifting plates of peas.

In these heady times, the battle between head and body has never been more farce.

"I could go on all day," the body of peas told the head of a fork and spoon.

A speedy resolution is expected to be brought by a screen in process.
74
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Bec Cartwright Has It Off With Horse

February 26th 2008 23:42
In a bonanza for the paparazzi, home and away the best racketeer in the electrical circus, Bec Cartwright has told her father: "Gee, Pa."

After pondering her predicament, hot and heavy with a horse, Hewitt (nee Cartwright) needed to sit down in an esky full of ice.

"The equine was enormously erotic," explained an erratic Eskimo.

The poor horse had to be taken away in a hearse.

When asked about the affair the horse could only say: "Pal, I'm knackered."

Bec's father, bewildered by his daughter's promiscuity, has comforted his son-in-law, Lleyton by electing to receive.

"For me, he serves custard," he told the fans while sweating professorially.

Hewitt denies he's thick and rich.

54
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Prime Minister Kelvin Rudd has outbid stroking Bollywood writers to claim the services of the most advanced knuckle-drag queen in Australia.

"He both plays for my team," said Rudd, "and he doesn't."

Symonds refused to let the media see his tutu because he "wouldn't wear it."

The media remain upbeat that they can get an idea or two to float for the upcoming celebrations to be held in the streets of Sydney.

The arching tutu went red when Steve Waugh put his hanky in the wash.

"If an Indian isn't doing his rag," Symonds, an avid fetishist, explained, "they're doing their rug."

Bollywood waiters have had to rush to the bathroom to wash their hands of the Australians.



72
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Chinese officials have called a halt to the crippling writers' stroke to import the female Special Olympian they believe is the reincarnation of Chairperson Mao.

"We bereave very much because of her," one bureaucrat told his duck.

Master in Terrorism Steven Speilberg said he was abandoning his wife and rabbit to live in a house made in China just to have a chance to play in the sand with the triple-jumper.

"I'm worth Mills!", an intoxicated Spielberg told members of the Academy.

Mao has asked to see Spielberg's balance.

Spielberg will commence filming himself in gladwrap to keep fresh.








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The diabolical brain behind the single-handed bandit has told opponents to beware of his latest creation ahead of electrical activity that has him remembering dismembered patients from his past.

The evil Doctor Federer, who has whipped many lazy rackets over the net, has admitted that his latest diabolical invention is his most self-destructive.

"To be perfectly frankenstein, I only ever play well in parts and pieces these days."

Federer looked up into his latest opponent's mother's box and was shocked to find another top seed.

After stalling at the hands of his Slav slave, Federer says that "He can't wait to get back into neutral."

His opponent, the Slav, has cut short his hair ahead of it falling out from radioactive roots.






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Former sports champion Lleyton Hewitt, the son of the late Princess Diana, has appealed to the Australian cricket team to "make it hotter for those curries".

Citing the non-violent protests of the renegade spinner Gandhi as a precedent, Hewitt believes that "These retards are just a pack of retards. C'mon, I should know. I have a double-handed backhand."

Some commentators can remember when the whingeing Aussies went to Pakistan and fell out of flavour with their curries.

Ponting has told the curries repeatedly that "Naan of yous is any good".

Hewitt returned this with his trademark shot that hits halfway up the net followed by one off the frame.

"You'd have to be bananas to be appealing for everything", said one very attractive primate in a hat.

The furore that has erupted over the indiscriminate appealing of the Australians is reserved exclusively for a table of Commonwealth nations.

65
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Australians Go Ape

January 4th 2008 23:19
The banana shortage that has led to an increase in racism has caused commentators to slip and fall as diabolical Australian hypocrisy goes, "Oooh, oooh. Aaaah. Aaaah".

The shortage that has seen luminaries from all manner of paddocks picking fleas of each others' backs has seen embattled Australians labelled "embattled".

"We are not monkeys. We are God's chosen people." announced one notable national.

"Can a Monkey do this?" another said as he gave the standard Aussie thumbs-up.

"If you're looking for monkeys, look no further than Sri Lanka or any other habitat for darkies." reads the manual on Australian attitudes towards hypermelonomaniacal herds.

A former New Zealand monkey has dragged his knuckles as he recounted the occasion when Australian crowds labelled him "a wanker."

"I may be a monkey but, I'm also a wanker." he said in sign language with scientists studying champs.



89
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Spare Bombers from Church

January 2nd 2008 22:17
A grass-roots campaign to save spontaneously combusting people from the onerous duty of attending church has sprung up in front lawns across the road.

The campaign that was triggered by a timely sprinkling system has hosed down speculation of a smelly horse.

The combusting spontaneously people at the centre of the road have said "that this is a ticking time bomb".

"This fertilizer is for the grass-roots".

The churches have brushed off the horse after some Muslims said the combustibles had good heads on their shoulders.

"Not for long" claim officials inspecting the nature-strip.

"These people should not be allowed mobile phones ever again. We're going to make fertiliser out of them"

Strips of nature in jungles of concrete require fertilizer, call and tell a friend.

The taking of human-life, the church claims, is not what Jesus died for.

85
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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.


63
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Studying masturbator blames sexy pants

December 21st 2007 02:29
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.

41
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The fast cow has told reporters that fellow fast-cow and knockabout she-larrikin Jennifer Hawkins scratched her eyes in a lesbian tryst in the mounting yards.

The carny-folk pop duo have released a string of nylon over the last decade that have seen them avoid the normal biological 'stresses' and 'tensions' of other pieces of equine flesh.

One horse racing expert, who wished to remain in bed till 7AM said, "Can't I just have a couple more minutes? I hate getting up."

You'll have to get up pretty in the morning to be able to park your testicles on either Gale's or Hawkins' chins.

Hawkins said of Gale "She blows harder and more often in Spring."

It's a statement that can be backed up without roughage.

The race that stops a nation is not Aboriginal.
40
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Hide the sausage: the board game

October 31st 2007 03:49
Fun for all the families, Hide the sausage is a fun family game full of wholesome family-orientated fun. Fun for the fellas and the fefellas, this game has been around. Since Adam was a boy he invented the enjoyable game that involves, you guessed it. If you think sausages, you think of a piece of lovely soft bread all buttery and moist folded over and receptive to the secretive nature of sausages.

Fun for all non-meat eaters and animal devourers alike, Hide the Sausage is just what your family needs to make it complete. The game can be purchased at all good knockshops and street corners or pubs and bars nation wide. There can be only one question.

Do you know what it is?
62
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Rudd: the worm is mine!

October 22nd 2007 10:44
Rudd says that he is tired of getting the 'wind up' on Television


Terminal tape-worm sufferer Kevin "Chucky" Rudd has been itching his itchy bottom because as he says, "I'm itching for a good night's sleep."

The frontman for boy band "ALP", Rudd has released a string of beads in his childish war with opposing boy band superheavyweight John Howard and his boyish band "Big Business(Liberals)".

Angry at suggestions 'the nation's finest' are not that at all, both boys have taken up arms to fight the endless battle to rid themselves of the body politic's arsehole problem.

"I've been itching." said Rudd. "And I've been biting his nails" said Howard.

The two obviously comfortable in each other's shoes, are set to go sleepless for many nights as they battle the curly ones put to them by intrepid reporters.

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Moderated by Norm
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