” You’ll never understand em mate, they don’t get dick- jokes for starters’, (Scomo seeks answers to the sheilah-problem with other blokes at the footy.)
Dear reader, we left off where we began before we most recently started, our heroes in a perilous situation, made worse by women who just couldn’t appreciate how serious the PM was about listening to them. How the PM couldn’t debase the status of his office by addressing them personally, and how the PM via a clever stratagem had promised to meet the leaders amongst them or single individuals in the sanctity of his office in parliament. And yet, in spite of all his efforts to calm the shrill-voiced throng, they refused lest the prptection offered to them was similar to that offered to Mrs Culthorpe, whom though abused, we righteously tossed from her wheelchair and slut-shamed, as is prescribed in Australian lore.
The attractive NDIS approved standard super refined white Hourglass.
However to our shock rather than satisfy the crowd that we too stood for principle, it made them seethe with revenge, to whit our heroes became the focus of their indignant and overly emotional, RAGE! What happens next may beggar description. We suggest for those who are infirm or light headed skip this instalment and proceed to a less sensational review of the excellent decision to cut funding to NDIS recipients with foetal alcohol syndrome, which is a polite way of suggesting that those aboriginals who are still ungrateful for the help we’ve given them should demonstrate contrition, move in an orderly way to their pre- ordained destiny, (PRISON), and behave themselves.
WE return to the scene, the sand was running out of the rather attractive hourglass……
The angry Sheilahs rounded upon us.
Things were looking distinctly grim. In a word; we were in deep shit!
We could see the blood lust. If they couldn’t have a go at the PM, and the penis weilding opressors seeking refuge in parliament, then, they might as well have a go at us. Closer the throng formed. By now we could see the individual faces of really really angry women, and some of em, I whispered to Ces, in spite of our predicament; “weren’t bad-looking either”.
We were done for.
The face of a REALLY REALLY ANGRY WOMAN!
That’s when we heard the call ; ‘RIP THEIR FUCKING BALLS OFF’!!!
‘Yeahh’!!!, the crowd roared lustilly.
And what sickened us, the sound of a flick-knife,
In short we were fucked, or, at the very least would be singing treble for the rest of our lives,
But all of a sudden the mood changed. They became distracted. Some agency had interrupted their manifest desire to wreak revenge upon MANKIND!
What was it?
What could have snapped them out of their blood lust?
That maniacal mob hell- bent on REVENGE!
REALLY REALLY ANGRY WOMAN SEEKS AFFIRMATION FROM HER LEADER!
It was the tannoy, it crackled over the ether, someone must have left the live feed on from the obovoid office..
It sounded familiar, like blokes on a drinks night friday,
They were laughing,
And then. We knew, we could hear Scomo, and Dutto, laughing themselves hoarse, another dick Joke?
Clever, we thought to remove the taint of sexism and muscular masculinity by reserving Friday arvo when the house was empty of Sheila’s for Dick jokes and drinks. What could be a better example of Mateship triumphing in the end over angry, nagging discontented Sheila’s. Sheila’s, who just like the Abo’s could never be grateful or happy for all the good, (the intervention, deaths in custody, fast access to prisons and mortality, the list goes on and on) we’d done for em.
Will this be a dick joke too far? Or will our heroes uncover more than they bargained for? Find out in our next slut-shaming episode; “ Is that a pretzel in your pocket or are you just here to entertain me”?
Really really angry woman’s grandma showing respect for a a leader whom it is written, (Corinthians Ch9. V 2) ” Shalt be thine BLOKE”!
Or : “Who is the owner of the pearl necklace left on the backbenchers desk’?