Just heard Gary Gray say on your radio station that the Rev Kev is “very courageous”

Can I just say
thanks very much Sir Humphrey.

Gary reckons he’s a Labor MP.
Last I heard he was working for a mining company.

Can I just say
Can I just say
Can I just say

It’s not the Gary Grays of this world who made me numero uno,
it’s you KJ and all the other people of Australia
who love me & put me in the Lodge

so I urge you all to get down on your knees
and get on the big white mobile
to the big fella upstairs

before there’s an absolute disaster
& by tea time the red head from wales and her hairdresssing friend
move into the Lodge
(it’ll be the first time in Australian history that a hairdresser has been occupying the PM’s bed)

everybody here is extremely anxious KJ
especially Abby who’s crouching in a fearful. way
right at the back of her kennel.

Let Us Pray.

Amen.

The Rev why dont you love me like you used to do Kev

Mind you, I found an awesome little scrubbing pad at Woolies a couple of weekends ago, that removes scum (the soap type that accumulates on shower glass, not the Socceroos opponents in the World Cup!)

Works an absolute treat!

I’d mention the company that makes them so that any domestic goddesses who may be reading can get one – but this is the ABC and they don’t tolerate advertising or product placement.

And, no . . . the cute little Chux super shower wipes WON’T remove the sounds of the vuvuzelas at the World Cup.

Come to think of it, they probably won’t remove the potty-mouth comments of players like Frenchman, Nicolas Anelka, either……..

A shame really…….

Dear Palm Avenue,

So taken am I with the power and mystery of the Deluxe Chux, I don’t give a hoot what the ABC Charter says about product endorsement – I BELIEVE in the Deluxe Chux – and will continue to do so, regardless of the consequences.
KJ.

Socceroos…..

More like: Craperoos.

Pathetic. So pathetic that they think a draw’s a win!

As you may have noticed, I’ve been keeping pretty quiet recently: the backroom boys at party HQ reckon that I’m frightening to women.

Come off it Kez, I think women like a man that makes ‘em tremble .

So bugger the spin docs, I’m on my way to Africa to take the Craperoos out on a Tony Six Pack Invictus Special training run.

As I told the Party room this week:

‘We’re in reach of a famous victory.’

Tony Six Pack.

Go to it! KJ.

……The godforsaken vuvuzelas! Make them stop! One of the charms of soccer is the singing that fans do. There is always loads of singing and chanting because every game is 1-nil, so there’s plenty of time for singing and chanting. Soccer fans sing and chant inane hilarious things like, ‘We are from Norway! We came on a plane! And we are very drunk!’ But we don’t get to hear the singing and the chanting because of the horrible, hideous, heinous vuvuzelas! My god, they should take them into the mountainous caves region of Pakistan and play them until Osama bin Laden comes running out, screaming, ‘OK, OK! I give!’

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/news/story?id=5288738

Dear Chadwick,

In the meantime, please pass the windex. I’ve just sprayed the telly with two gallons of Aerogard. KJ.

The square of his date,
When multiplied by eight,
Was three-fifths of five eight,
Times ten of sweet bugger all.

Tell all those fans when they get home,
To leave that old Dutchie alone,
This morning, this evening
So soon.

Tell all those Serbs when they get home,
To leave the Aussie net alone,
This morning, this evening
So soon.

Tell Harry Kewell when he gets home,
To leave that bloody ball alone,
This morning, this evening
So soon.

Tell kerriejean.com when she gets home,
To leave footy dressing sheds alone,
This morning, this evening
So soon.

Tell that Ref when he gets home,
To keep all his red cards close to the bone,
This morning, this evening
So soon.

Tell the players when they get home,
To leave all those uptown girls alone,
This morning, this evening
So soon.

‘Observe how the mighty men from Hellas stripped bare their Persian captives, then laughed at their lack of athleticity.

O men of Leeton – and maidens too – take heed of this mighty lesson hurled down like a thunderbolt from Zeus!

Look at your shanks, your belly, jowls and dewlaps hanging like grapes at a Dionysian Festival.

A World Cup or a 3-D cup?

O Leetonians bare your bodies to Helios in his chariot!

What, I ask, do the Gods observe?

……Will you march with Xenophon, or go for a beer?’