Monoblog

monoblog episode four
Current mood: satisfied

No time for regular blogging this week, I'm on 24 hour maternity alert
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Monologue bits from The Sideshow, episode 4
In Canada, an MP has launched a petition to have Bigfoot protected as an endangered species. Adding, "they're so rare, I've never even seen one. Have you?"

Nice to see Australia's not the only country where politicians are in touch with the real issues.

To be fair, most Americans don't believe in Canadians.

He also moved to make Plastic Man biodegradable and have the transformers fitted with a carbon filter.

Talk about chasing the minority. Apparently he was only elected by a last minute landslide from the 'big hairy forest-dwelling vote".

Mike Lake wants to "establish immediate comprehensive legislation to effect immediate protection of bigfoot". With a big orthotic pair of sandals.

To be fair, he doesn't necessarily believe in it. He's only presenting the petition on behalf of his electorate, many of whom send their time logging sightings of Bigfoot. And Mike Lake won't be the one to put those logging jobs at risk.

What gets me is the petition has 500 signatories! Mostly from big hairy blokes called "Unh".

You know, every time you say "I don't believe in Bigfoot", a Canadian politician's credibility dies.

And it gets better! The man who wrote the position sold it to the MP on the strength of this video. [play video] Quick! Someone give that Bigfoot a role on neighbours.

I love the way Bigfoot has such a blasé attitude towards the paparazzi.

And that swing in his step is due to a carefully concealed iPod mini.

But if you're watching, Mr. Howard, Australia's got its own petition we'd really like you to get behind: [unused 'Save the Bananas' video script].

But if you're watching, Mr. Howard, Australia's got its own endangered species that needs to be protected. There's only two of them left, and we can't get them to mate in captivity. Some people don't even think they exist, but I did manage to shoot this video. [Parody of the Bigfoot with an upright banana bobbing along against a vaguely foresty background].
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Last week, a union official described John Howard as "a skidmark on the bedsheet of Australian politics". This week, another guy said unions wanted to make the Prime Minister "just a pimple on the bum of history".

Not the first time Peter Costello's been called a bum.

And every time you try to squeeze the pimple, a disgraced Liberal frontbencher throws himself in front of it.

Ten minutes later, Paul Keating was on the phone, telling anyone who'd listen that he was the original bottom blemish, and no mere pimple but a "giant, weeping abscess planted proudly in the buttock of time".

And John Howard's copping it all! But only because he's been mooning the unions with his unprotected bottom out in the sun for so long, he's starting to think he should get that "pimple" looked at.

Which makes Peter Costello the 'transmissible wasting disease on the dangly bits of the economy".

And Alexander Downer the "harmless but nasty looking mole on the pubic bone of foreign relations".

Malcolm Turnbull is the alarming new discoloration on the inner thigh of upper management.

Brendan Nelson is the expensive and ineffective liposuction on the expanding waistline of defence.

Bronwyn Bishop, we'll we're still not sure what Bronnie is 'cause the doctor took one look at her and fainted.

Bronwyn Bishop, well the doctor said he'd never seen a Bronwyn Bishop before, then went very quiet and said "we're going to need to do some more tests".

Joe Hockey is the malfunctioning ticket machine in the eternal dole queue of destiny.

Peter Garrett is the smooth, proud testicle of the Labor Party wedged painfully in the black stretch jeans of compromise.

Kevin Rudd is the baby-faced bucket of Clearasil. It won't necessarily solve your butt-acne, but the adverts will fill you with confidence.

Julia Gillard is a cold, hard foot bunion of reason, sandwiched deep in the mouth of diplomacy.

Wayne Swan is the constant, crusty carbuncle on the callused underbelly of the Labor Party.

Amanda Vanstone is a surgically removed varicose vein in the tired, swollen ankle of the electorate.
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California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger is about to receive 2 petitions: "Free Paris Hilton" & "Jail Paris Hilton". Although, to be fair, half the people signing "Free Paris" thought it was a mailing list for complementary DVDs.

The "Free Paris" fans want her pardoned because she "provides beauty & excitement to our otherwise mundane lives". And you don't get much more excitement than playing chicken with a drunk, cross-eyed socialite careering down a highway without a license.

Imagine how much more beauty & excitement she could provide now? It's 'The Simple Life' meets 'Oz'?

"Dear Diary, Nicole is acting like such a bitch. So I put ground up glass in her mash".

Imagine how much more beauty & excitement she could provide to those who really need it? Like Bonecrusher Babs from Cellblock B?

And who knows? She might learn a trade? Like carjacking.

Bonecrusher Babs could teach her how to read.

At last count, though, the "Jail Paris" had about 2000 more signatures. And most of those were from women on the inside.

At last count, though, the "Jail Paris" had about 2000 more signatures. Although, to be fair, most of those people thought it was a mailing list for complimentary DVDs.

Lawyers have also lodged an appeal against her 45 day sentence, describing it as "uncalled for, inappropriate & bordering on the ludicrous". Not actually "ludicrous". That would be something like, I don't know, carrying a Chihuahua in a handbag.

Lawyers have also lodged an appeal against her 45 day sentence, describing it as "uncalled for, inappropriate & bordering on the ludicrous". So did Paris, but she was talking about the orange prison jumpsuit.

Lawyers have also lodged an appeal against her 45 day sentence, describing it as "uncalled for, inappropriate & bordering on the ludicrous". At which point Paris said she loved Ludacris. And then she dropped the 'n' word.

You'd think she'd be old enough now not to go drinking on an empty head.

Coincidentally, "DUI" also spells the sound Paris's head makes when you flick it.

Actually, the sentence for DUI was just a fine, the 45 days were for contempt of court for her Judge Judy theme Crazy Frog ringtone.

Do you think there's a point where Paris's parents will just give up?
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Next week: Sylvester Stallone reveals he only smuggled human growth hormone into the country in the hope his human growth could share a cell with Paris Hilton.

Tripod will enter the Eurovision Song Contest as the official entry for Lappland, and Yon will do a Lapp dance.

To celebrate International Day of the Family, we'll give one lonely viewers the chance to win a family of their very own.

To celebrate International Day of the Family, we'll kidnap some children and take them camping with a Tasmanian church cult. (It's called The Family. Read a newspaper, people.)

Every stereotype about British sport will be proved true when the FA Cup Final is simultaneously lost by everybody.

Every stereotype about British sport will be proved true when the FA Cup Final is cancelled 'cause the English teams lost the ball.

The Australian cricket team will win the FA Cup Final.

A new season of The Simple Life with Paris Hilton and her new best friend, Vinegar Tits.

"Nana Tucket", a previously unknown female truckie will release an internet video from jail called "43 nights in Paris".

Sly Stallone will reveal it wasn't human growth hormone at all, but horse growth hormone. Which would explain why they call him the Italian Stallion.

Sly Stallone will be jailed for smuggling spring onions, and will go by his 'prison name', The Italian Scallion Rapscallion.

The Family of International Day of the Family will get divorced, and split back up into Mothers' Day, Fathers' Day and Alternating Childrens' Weekends.

Rove McManus will declare bankruptcy after a particularly large phone bill. On Mothers' Day.