The Sideshow Ep. 12: monologue material

And it’s been revealed that Kevin Rudd was stumbling drunk in a New York strip club 4 years ago. Of course, this will change many people’s opinion of him: now he’s PM for sure!

Of course, this has changed many people’s opinion of him: the latest polls show that people will only vote for him now if he slips a fiddy between their tits. / people will only vote for him now if he buys them a drink.

Big Kev says he was so drunk at the time, he can’t remember all the details. Not so much DUI as AWB… / He’s forgotten so much, he says it’s almost like being on the board at AWB. / He’s forgotten so much, it’s as if he’s already in Government.

Big Kev says he was so drunk at the time, he can’t remember all the details. But it does explain why he’s got a tatt saying “Candy loves Responsible Fiscal Management”.

Big Kev says he was so drunk at the time, he just assumed that the person rubbing up against him in fishnet stockings was Alexander Downer.

But it was actually all part of official business. He was just getting some help to relieve his rising interest rates… / getting some advice on how to relieve rising interest rates…

But it was actually all part of official business. He was just conducting preliminary research for the Ministry of Tits.

But it was actually all part of official business – he was just researching alternate methods of fund-raising.

He didn’t realise he was so drunk – his judgement was impaired after all the bucket-bongs.

He was so drunk he thought he was actually at a geography conference, and couldn’t work out why there were so many maps of Tasmania…

It was an innocent mistake: he thought a “pole-dancer” was someone who couldn’t decide which box to tick on public opinion surveys.

It was an innocent mistake: he misunderstood when they asked him if he wanted a personal meeting with Bush…

He hadn’t been surrounded by so many cunts since he accidentally walked into the offices of the Liberal Party.

He claims he wasn’t drunk at all – he was just speaking Mandarin.

John Howard said he didn’t have time for anyone who overindulged in alcohol, unless they’re from Texas.

There’s still more dirt to come out about this story. (whisper) Apparently Alexander Downer was the stripper!

It just proves that Rudd’s human. I mean, who hasn’t got pissed and decided to pop into the world’s most exclusive strip club to have a thousand dollar champers? I know I have.

Reports indicate that after downing a few shandies, Rudd suggested that (Rudd posh voice) “although subsection 6 of the bill has yet to be ratified, I strongly hold the opinion that we should go get us some titty.”

Reports indicate that after downing a few shandies, Rudd suggested the party (Rudd posh voice) “stop all this bullshitting about Iraq and go get us some titty.”

Kevvy even got a private lap dance; although to be fair he didn’t charge that one to the taxpayer, as the dancer wasn’t able to print out a receipt with her hands round Rudd’s rump. / her body in that position.

When they invited him out to see some pole-dancing, Rudd just thought it was some hip Noo Yoyk term for “electioneering”.

John Howard has swung in, claiming the drunken stripclub visit was immoral and a waste of taxpayer money. He then went back to killing the innocents of Iraq.

John Howard said that he had also been invited to a strip club in 2003, but he had more important things on his mind, like invading countries without UN sanction or believable evidence.

No wonder the UN didn’t endorse the invasion of Iraq. All the ambassadors were busy sampling the world’s best titty-bars. / All the ambassadors were pissed as maggots with their faces full of flap.

Kevin was actually dragged along by the editor of the New York Times, one of Murdoch’s doo-rags. They must have had a hunch he’d be Opposition Leader one day.

Murdoch employees have also tried to entice Julia Gillard to some strip clubs. No dice.

We have here, in an Australian exclusive, some other dirty secrets our politicians are trying to hide. Apparently, Peter Garret used to be in a rock-band! John Howard is an old dwarf with funny eyebrows! And, according to our sources, Lyn Allison is actually the leader of the Democrats!

More dirt: apparently John Howard used to have funny-looking eyebrows.

More dirt: apparently John Howard is a cunt.

***

In the UK, a new study has found 40% of parents can’t recite a single nursery rhyme all the way to the end. But 40% of British parents can’t walk to the milk bar without popping in to the pub for a couple of pints.

Apparently, parents are singing songs from the Wiggles or Bananas in Pyjamas. It’s a damn shame – how are kids gunna grow up happy and healthy if they aren’t singing about blind mice getting their tails chopped off, or Jack falling down a hill and smashing open his head, or babies falling out of trees?

I reckon it’s a good thing. At least the Wiggles don’t sing about plagues, shattered eggs and popped weasels. Except maybe for “My Weasel’s Got the Plague”. (One of their early tunes.)

Well, do you want your kids singing about Wags the Dog, or terrified mice being mutilated?

Not only are kids not learning nursery rhymes any more, but it’s getting nearly impossible to find a tuffet!

40% of British parents can’t recite a nursery rhyme and over 90% no longer have the ability to mend a fractured skull with vinegar and brown paper.

I don’t blame parents for not remembering nursery rhymes. I mean, if you ask me, they’re all a bit childish.

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, all the king’s horse and all the king’s men, don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me.

But do we really want to be singing these outdated songs? After all, “Ring a ring a rosy” is about the black plague – it’d be far better to sing the Wiggles’ “Birdy Birdy Bird Flu”, or the Bananas in Pyjamas’ classic “I’ve got SARS”.

Actually most of the parents do know some nursery rhymes, but they were just too sleep-deprived to remember them.

But do we really want to be singing these outdated songs? “Sing a song of sixpence” means nothing these days – we should be singing “Sing a song of 10 bucks fiddy”.

Young kids today don’t need nursery rhymes – they’ve got Video Hits and Idol! / they’ve got internet porn and crystal meth!

Nursery rhymes used to be about dealing with situations they’d have to face in later life. Modern day nursery rhymes would be things like “Fiddly-fashed, my service provider’s crashed”, “Udderly uvverage, I’ve got no mobile coverage” or “Piddly Puckwits, my country’s run by a buncha fuckwits.”

More modern nursery rhymes: “Diddly daids, my uncle’s got AIDS”, “Ziggly Zaggly Zark, my dad’s still in Iraq”, “Biddley Bilton Bot, I saw Paris’ Hilton’s twat”.

***

As part of an anti drink-driving campaign, British school children are strapping on “Beer goggles” that mimic the effects of alcohol. This strategy seems to be more effective than the old method – putting pissed children behind the wheel.

An unfortunate side-effect is a dramatic increase in kids thinking their teacher is “totally hot”. / increase in kids who wouldn’t mind doing their teacher after school. / increase in after-school detentions that get a little steamy…

Unfortunately wearing the goggles for too long can mean you can pass out and wake up in a puddle of your own spew.

At last! Real beer goggles! That’s going to save me a fortune in grog!

So far, the goggles have resulted in a very similar number of fatalities – but you gotta teach ‘em tough.

As part of an anti drink-driving campaign, British school children are strapping on “Beer goggles” that mimic the effects of alcohol. Well, some of the effects – they still don’t get you laid.

As part of an anti drink-driving campaign, British school children are strapping on “Beer goggles” that mimic the effects of alcohol. They’re also trialling motorised “beer gloves” that cop a feel all by themselves, and a “beer hat” that is three sizes too small when you wake up, and comes with its very own inbuilt jackhammer.

The beer-goggles have distorted lenses that make wearers feel nauseous and disorientated, and yet somehow still desperate for a kebab.

The beer-goggles have distorted lenses that make wearers feel nauseous and disorientated, while somehow improving their pool skills. / while somehow improving their dance-moves.

Unfortunately, more than half the British schoolkiddies found the goggles difficult to put on, as they were already pissed.

This year’s school formal will be alcohol-free, although every student will be provided with a pair of goggles.

The goggles have been quite successful at reducing alcohol use amongst the school kids, but unfortunately pregnancies are way up.

What I want to know is, if you get pissed can you wear the goggles inside-out and drive home?

Wouldn’t it be better to design goggles that can make you sober?

In Australia we’re starting a similar system where kids get to wear a pair of Kevin Rudd’s glasses…

They’ve also invented LSD-goggles that create psychedelic visions, but the inventors won’t let anyone near them until they can tame the fractal Time-Rhino.

They’ve also invented Heroin-goggles that usually just put you to sleep, but, every now and then, just kill you.

***

Some happy news. A tribe in Papua New Guinea has apologised for eating four 19th century Fijian missionaries. They meant to only have a tiny little nibble.

A tribe in Papua New Guinea has apologised for eating four 19th century Fijian missionaries. They only meant to eat one, but those missionaries are so moreish.

Thousands of villagers attended a reconciliation ceremony, where tribal leaders laid memorial wreaths, made from rosemary and garlic, with just a pinch of fresh ground pepper for taste.

They didn’t mean to eat them, but the missionaries kept going on about the flesh and blood of Christ, and one thing led to another…

The missionaries had been touring for a long time by the time they were eaten. Well, at least they were seasoned.

Apparently, the missionaries were delicionaries…

The tribal leaders first apologised to a Fijian delegation for their ancestors’ cannibalism, then apologised for eating the Fijian delegation straight after the first apology.

The tribal leaders apologised to a Fijian delegation for their ancestors’ cannibalism, and the Fijians apologised for not providing a suitable desert.

Thousands of Papua New Guineans apologised because their forefathers ate four Fijians in the nineteenth century. Unfortunately the Fijian delegation couldn’t stay for the celebratory Fijian banquet.

So when in Port Moresby, don’t order a Fijian banquet… it’s made with real Fijians.

The Fijian delegation were glad the issue had finally been resolved. They’d actually just come over to pick four of the juiciest New Guineans. (Revenge is a dish best served cold, though tribesman is better freshly roasted.)

The original cannibals had wanted to apologise themselves, but the Fijians just didn’t agree with them.

The leader of the tribe personally got down on bended knee and kissed the hands of the Fijian delegates. After all, he’d heard Fijians were finger-lickin’ good…

A Papua New Guinean tribe has apologised for eating four Fijian missionaries from the 19th century. Who knew they kept so well? / They must’ve used Tupperware.

A Papua New Guinean tribe has apologised for eating four 19th century Fijian missionaries. However, they are still unapologetic for eating Rick Astley.

APOLOGIES & OTHER ANNOUNCEMENTS

We’ve got a little lost boy; he’s obviously left over from the 7:30 timeslot. We can’t find his parents, so if the Doctor can just pick him up in the TARDIS and take him back to our old timeslot, that’d be super.

Germaine Greer was going to be on the show tonight, but she’s busy digging her own grave…

And the winner of tonight’s door-prize is Germaine Greer, who called Princes Diana “a devious moron” this week. Did I say “door-prize”? Sorry, I meant “door-bitch”.

And tonight’s door-prize goes to Germaine Greer, who called Princes Diana “a devious moron” this week. The prize this week is a large bottle of “happy pills” – clearly it’s been a while since Greer’s taken hers. / – I think she needs ‘em. / The prize this week is a large bottle of “chill the fuck out” pills. Perfect!

And tonight’s prize for kicking the dead goes to Germaine Greer, who called Princes Diana “a devious moron” this week. The prize tonight is a great big list of the dead and defenceless – perfect for when you need to lay the boot in, but don’t want to get kicked back. / The prize tonight is a gag, a mirror, and a big can of fuck off and die.

Princess Diana can’t be on tonight, because she’s dead. Yes, Germaine, dead.

Germaine Greer, who called Princes Diana “a devious moron” this week can’t make it, she’s off abusing Elvis and Ghandi.

Germaine Greer, who this week called Princes Diana “a devious moron”, can’t make it tonight – she’s too smart and honest for this show. / she’s too busy preparing her acceptance speech for the “Person of the Century” Award. / she’s busy trying to get bands to play for her own birthday spectacular.

Kevin Rudd can’t make it tonight, he’s got to pick up his dry-cleaning…

Kevin Rudd can’t be here tonight, as he’s snorting coke off a hooker’s breasts;

Kevin Rudd can’t be here tonight, as he’s still working on the Labor Party’s official policy on bazoongas.

Kevin Rudd can’t be here tonight, as he’s working on the new Labor Party campaign. So far, the likely slogan is: “Trust Kevin Rudd: He Knows Breast”.

And tonight’s meat-tray goes to Kevin Rudd! Sorry, no, I read that wrong: that’s “Tonight, Kevin Rudd goes to a meat-market”.

Kevin Rudd can’t be here, he’s busy with his own little sideshow at the moment…

The Tasmanian government were going to be on the show tonight, but they’re busy chopping down every last tree in the state; they’re trying to make the world’s biggest pile of woodchips. / biggest packet of toothpicks. / a life-size replica of Tasmania’s old-growth forests.

“Bush’s Brain”, Karl Rove, was going to be on the show tonight, but as soon as he left his office Dubya started twitching, drooling, and pissing on the carpet.

“Bush’s Brain”, Karl Rove, was going to be on the show tonight, but Dubya wanted to come along too. “Hey Karl, what we gunna do today, hey Karl? Hey Karl, where ya goin? Karl?”

And tonight’s raffle winner is: Karl Rove! Your prize is a lovely tray of fresh brains – haven’t seen brains in a while, eh Karl?

Karl Rove was unable to be with us, now that he’s retired to his palatial villa built on the bones of dead Iraqis.

George Dubya Bush couldn’t get here tonight. In fact now that his “brain” Karl Rove has retired, he’s finding it difficult to get anywhere.

George Dubya Bush couldn’t be on the show tonight. Now that Karl Rove has left him, Dubya just lays twitching in his own excrement, covered in flies.

NEXT WEEK

Tuesday’s Erosion of Free Speech dinner in Sydney will be mysteriously cancelled…

Tuesday’s Erosion of Free Speech dinner in Sydney will feature a fine array of Liberal Party approved experts.

Tuesday’s Erosion of Free Speech dinner in Sydney will be (beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep).

We were going to do a joke about Tuesday’s Erosion of Free Speech dinner, but… well… anyway…

On Aug. 26th it’s the Teen Choice Awards – hmmm, I’ll have Rhianna!

On the 27th, the U.S. Open tennis begins, promising more grunting, sweating and ball-slapping than Kevin Rudd at a stripclub!

There’ll be a total lunar eclipse, prompting a mass-sacrifice by the National Party as they try to “bring the firegod back”…

August 29th: Spain’s Tomatina Festival, where good tomatos go to die…

Spain’s Tomatina Festival is on again, the only festival where tens of thousands of sweaty men look so appetising.

The Australian Short Course swimming championships will begin – it’s the only time of the year when the inflatable kiddie-pool really comes into its own.

The Australian Short Course swimming championships will begin, opened by Kevin Rudd – apparently he’s keen to see the breast-stroke…

It’s 110 years since the Star of David became the official Jewish emblem; they’re so glad now they didn’t pick the swastika after all.

It’s 110 years since the Star of David became the official Jewish emblem; before that it was a giant foreskin with a big red line through it.

It’s 110 years since the Star of David became the official Jewish emblem; before that it was just a big bullseye.

It’s the 110th anniversary of the Star of David as official Jewish emblem. The Star of Bethlehem just didn’t seem right.

Thursday is Melbourne Day! So enjoy it Melbourne! For the rest of the year you can get fucked.

Melbourne decided that Melbourne Cup Day and Melbourne Show Day weren’t enough, so next Thursday is Melbourne Day! And soon they’re bringing in Melbourne Day Day! Go Melbourne!

Sydney may have the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, but next Thursday Melbourne has its own day. Awww.

Some fucktard’s decided Melbourne needs its own day, so that’s on…

Cameron Diaz turns 35, I was thinking of sending her a present. Some of my own hand-made hair gel…

Cameron Diaz turns 35, and has the shock realisation Cameron’s actually a boy’s name.

On the 31st it’s the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death, when it will come out that she didn’t really die at all, but went into hiding disguised as Elvis.

Mr Gay UK will be decided by a scrag fight between George Michael and Elton John.

Mr Gay UK will this year be won by the only gay in the country. / village…

In controversial circumstances, Mr Gay UK will be won by Germaine Greer. / Prince William. / a straight guy.

And soon we’ll know the winner of the UK’s Mr Gay, followed by the winners of Lord Queerington and Baron Ooh-Matron-How’s-Your-Father.

Kevin Rudd will prove that he’s truly sorry about the strip club incident by doing a day’s work as a stripper.

And have an extra spoonful for National Overdose Day!

And remember kiddies, take a little bit extra on National Overdose Day…

National Asthma Week will have to be stopped half-way through when it loses its inhaler.

National Asthma Week will begin with a spectacular opening – a float made of old inhalers, festooned with nearly 100 half-filled balloons…

National Asthma Week will begin, followed by Sinus Fortnight, and the Month of Mucous Membranes.

National Asthma Week will begin, with the Asthmatic Choir being joined by the Bronchitis Buglers in one giant heaving rasp of death.

And on September the 1st, it’s National Asthma Week! The opening ceremony will take your breath away!

Leave a Reply