Thursday, 26 November 2009

Carp & Demean

Dorian Gray - yet another remake en cinemascope. Oh why bother?!! Just read the blinkin' book and be done with it or hire that 40's film in which Angela Lansbury played Sibyl Vane and sang a Nightingale in Berkley Square, i think. The film also featured George Sanders, who was born to play Lord Henry Wotton. Hurd Hatfield as Dorian is quite the poop but then was not Dorian; well, a corrupt and vain poop which is possibly an oxy-moron and slightly worse than an uxurious-moron.

Nick Minchin - slick prick, evil Vatican cardinal/Darth Vader

Wilson Tuckey - R-r-r-rabid (am I channelling his irrational foaming fury? Oh my! I mean, "oh noes". )

Brownyn Bishop - R E T I R E you great beehived Punch puppet look-a-like of a right wing pollie.

Tony Abbott - Spare me and his longing for pre-Vatican II. I feel sick. Pass me that nice chocolate biscuit would you. Oh make it the whole goddamn packet, sweetness.

Joe Hockey - throwin' his fat into the ring

All of them make Malcolm Turnbull seem almost, no, Bel, you cannot and must not apply a kindly adjective to him, or feel sympathy, remember ute gate and all those rumours you've heard, nice and Malcolm cannot compute

And  PLEASE no more questions to me about chipped glassware and such like. It's like listening to some frustrated bride bleating on about her trousseau. Eeewwwwwwwe. It is not my lijne of work! Noelene Donaher obsessed and bitched about Paul and Dionne's chipped crockery and look what happened to all of them! Yes, Sylvania Waters is permanently submerged underwater, granted Noelene does look hot in that mermaid tail, BUT, and it's a big but(t), Libs, property values are down the gurgler. When property values plummet that's when the Libs will believe in Global Warming.

"Thanks, my friend." - When strangers address me as such (only strangers could as the friends I sort of have only address me when they chastise-1st born children become such know-it-all didactic P R I G S (no offence)) I should feel repulsed yet my curmudgeon lobe is curiously squashed and soothed by such an utterance. I get a peculiar tingly and untoward feeling; i think it's because i feel that there is an element of godbothery to it and as a child one of my biggest fears, apart from kidnappers absconding with my younger sister, car crashes, getting run over, being strangled by stray venetian blind cords swinging in the breeze, and being sprung as the culprit of the great firecracker sounding fart in B.O. Berwick's maths class February 1975, was that i would somehow get brainwashed and become a Christian.

Over and spun out (again)

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