PALACE-APPROVED ROYAL WEDDING JOKES

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

HOW TO BE SEVENTY-ONE

Image
Guest columnist Elton McGrievance Cohen II Good afternoon class. I am Elton McGreivance Cohen II, Emeritus Professor of  Divergent Cohesive Reasoning & Coffee at The Sorbonne (2025 -2025). If the name sounds familiar, you may have encountered my annoyingly famous father Elton McGrievance Cohen, author of the runaway best-seller "What the Fuck is Going On Here" an incisive and widely misunderstood satire of geo--political economics in the wake of the first Trump Presidency, you know, the one where he was content just to bask in the glory of being declared a stable genius. Oh happy days.   This time round some damn fool has taught him how to pronounce macro-economics without spitting out the spare adderil he keeps in that pouch in his cheeeks and he's off to everywhere all at once to fix everything before next Tuesday... "Hey Fritz, nice little economy you've got here, be a shame if anything happened to it, a damn shame" But back to me.    As most of you p...
Read more

ARE YOU NOW, OR HAVE YOU EVER BEEN, A FOREIGNER

Image
  In a brief but terrifying speech last month Opposition Leader and Shadow Minister for Blunt Force Trauma, Peter John Edward Normal Name Dutton, said it was all the fault of foreigners and if we wanted to get more houses for real proper Australians we should put a stop to foreigners altogether before they come over here and buy up all our invisible houses and rent them out to their university student families with names like Tran and deWahlui and Ma Zedong.  You know I'm right, said Dutton, I've been right before and I'll be right again. It's all their fault, those darned foreigners. Why can't they just stay home and send their money without annoying us with their actual physical presence. I'm a busy man, spluttered Herr Von Dutton, and so are all the blokes in my shadow cabinet, even the girls. We've got nuclear power stations to build and sadly dated monetary policies to pursue. I simply don't have time to deal with people who have names that are impo...
Read more

LEST WE FORGET © ANZAC 2026 ™ ®

Image
Of course I fought at Gallipoli. I was only a fetus, so I had to lie about my age. And my height. I had to lie about a lot of things. I hated the taste of beer and I didn't know the words to Waltzing Matilda, but I was buggered if I was going to let that stand in the way of dying for my country. Or someone else's country. War isn't supposed to make sense. They say the first casualty of war is truth. In my case the first casualty of war was a Louis Vuitton trunk containing my best dinner suit, three ounces of Turkish opium, and a particularly fine collection of Persian erotica. Sunk without trace after a luggage tender capsized at Alexandria. A tragedy. I was on my way to Paris to cover the war as a freelance correspondent and I had no idea of the horrors I was to face. Without a decent dinner jacket. You people have no idea. Gallipoli. It was hell. When I say I fought at Gallipoli, I really mean I saw action at Gallipoli. Well, I mean I saw some photos of the plac...
Read more