Posts Tagged Alan Jones

A “Sorry” Variation (Sincere Regrets)

Groupthink is proud to announce a brand new set of lyrics with a local and contemporary flavour set to the tune of Tex Williams’ “Some, Smoke, Smoke (That Cigarette)”

“SORRY, SORRY, SORRY (SINCERE REGRETS)”

Now we’re a country with a heart of gold,
Or at least that’s what we’re taught and told,
The kinda place that’s the envy of the world.

 But there’s some things that ain’t too thrillin’
Like “The X Factor” or seam gas drillin’,
That when I hear about, do make my toes fair curl.

We’re very sorry for Pauline Hanson,
She can’t wash a car and she’s shit at dancin’,
She ain’t much superior to anyone.

Sorry for whinin’ and fallin’ to our knees-
Whoops! Here’s a boat from Indonese!
Run for the hills and don’t forget the guns!

(CHORUS)
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sincere regrets,
Sorry for all the things we’ve done, and the things we ain’t done yet.
We’re so sorry it makes us cry,
Sorry that our planes don’t fuckin’ fly,
Sorry for the floods and the levy and the flies and the sharks and the pests.

Alan Jones is sorry for his choice of language,
I wish he were the meat in a gay leper sandwich,
Alan Joyce is sorry he’s brung The Troubles.

We’re sorry ‘bout the price of bananas,
And Coles and Woolies fuckin’ over the farmers,
But I still shop there, ‘cause the other places cost me double! (Sorry)

We’re sorry about Andrew Bolt’s pity,
The sook could be heard from city to city,
But old Andy, he ain’t sorry ‘bout much at all.

“My freedom of speech is under threat!”,
And, “Ordinary folk can’t place a bet!”,
“These Muslims and ni**ers gonna rape and kill us all!”

(CHORUS)
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sincere regrets,
Sorry for all the things we’ve done, and the things we ain’t done yet.
We’re so sorry it makes us cry,
Sorry that our planes don’t fuckin’ fly,
Sorry for the floods and the levy and the flies and the sharks and the pests.

We’re sorry for climate change,
No doubt these scientists are all insane!
You can predict the climate from the entrails of a chicken!

And we’re sorry for Katter and Barnaby Joyce,
Add Angry Anderson and you’re spoilt for choice
For candidates with the brainpower of a kitten!

And we’re bloody sorry for Julia Gillard,
And for Kevin Rudd, whom she doth spill’ed,
Poor dear went off his Iced Vo-Vo’s for a month.

But we’re mortified by Tony Abbott,
In his budgie smugglers with his budgie’s scabbard,
I’m sorry, but I’m about to lose my lunch!

(CHORUS)
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sincere regrets,
Sorry for all the things we’ve done, and the things we ain’t done yet.
We’re so sorry it makes us cry,
Sorry that our planes don’t fuckin’ fly,
Sorry for the floods and the levy and the flies and the sharks and the pests.

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I am a politician

Julia Gillard has L!I!E!D! to the people of this great nation!

A CONSPIRACY is afoot!

We are betrayed! The people are revolting!

Millions will suffer in infernal penury as a consequence, the remainder of their wretched lives to be spent sucking rancid spots of special sauce from the discarded wrappers of Happy Meal cheeseburgers, and Alan Jones is appalled, appalled, to have been kept waiting for an interview  with this Lying Red SCUM QUEEN a whole TEN MINUTES after it was scheduled and, by God in Heaven and Christ on the cross and all that is holy on this earth and on the blessedly fluffy hereafter, we cannot have that, no, we cannot!

What does she mean when she says one thing at one point in time and something completely different at another? What does it mean when this Vacuous and Vicious Vile Vomitous Vixen has the audacity to even think she may match wits with the magnificent specimen of manly man that is the marvellous Mr. Jones and keep him waiting?

It means this …

“I am a politician.

“Like every other politician on this earth, regardless of political party or ideology, I will lie to you, I will steal from you, I will profess to giving a damn about you, even though I don’t actually give a flying fuck if you all die of cancer, I will dissemble and connive, I will make shit up and you will believe it, I will engage in all manner of scare campaigns to appeal to the basest natures of those type of squealing fuckwits who listen to commercial radio and think “A Current Affair” is a reliable source of news, I will think you are dumb enough to fall for simple-minded three or four word slogans because you always have before, and that is because a vast number of those people that we, as politicians, represent, whether as a local member, opposition leader or government leader from any political party, a vast number of our constituents are simple-minded retards with barely a brain cell in their cranium, let alone a tooth in their stupid heads.

“Like every other politician on this earth, regardless of political party or ideology, I will profess to care for the underprivileged, the frail of mind and body, the sick, the dying and the diseased, and I will be seen attending events on their behalf and I will speak with compassion and empathy and offer, on behalf of myself and my fellow travellers, our utmost sympathy and understanding to them, even though, in private, we, all of us, regardless of political party or ideology, we’d rather they were all taken out the back of a woodshed somewhere and shot through their useless fucking heads.

“Like every other politician on this earth, regardless of political party or ideology, I will try not to be too obvious about any of this, and you out there, the great unwashed masses of unthinking tuckshop-armed bogans and bowlegged boofheads in faded beer and b.o. branded t-shirts whose entire lives amount to little more than flitting from one childish, paralysing fear to another in screeching outraged hysteria because you all have the attention span of a bowl of fucking goldfish and there’s someone moved in down the street who has a deeply suspicious tan, you stupid cunts whom I have to pretend to be one with, to suck on your fucking sausage sandwiches at some crappy fete in some flyblown bumfuck town every goddamn election cycle, you stupid cunts come election time, you’ll vote for whoever the fuck promises to line your pockets with a little gold, no matter how little or how much, because you think it’s all about you, don’t you?

“Well, it isn’t.

“Because I am a politician, and like every politician on this earth, regardless of political party or ideology, it’s all about me, it’s all about us, whatever name we choose to brand ourselves with, so fuck you with the sharp end of a stick, thank you very much.

“But what I won’t do, what I definitely will not do, like that other guy, and the ones who preceded him, like this guy, is kowtow to that fat cunt with a voice like a middle-aged castrato gargling sand who goes by the name of Alan fucking Jones and who thinks he’s the centre of the known and unknown fucking universe. Fuck him and fuck the gonorrhoeal donkey he rode in on.

“Because I am a politician, and like every other politician on this earth, regardless of political party or ideology, sometimes even we have limits to the things we’re expected to do in the course of carrying out our work.

“So you can take that sausage sandwich and suck the living fuck out it for all I care, darling.”

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Friday’s Lovechild #19

Just the one today, I’m afraid, but a man whose value to Australian society is rivalled only by introduced species such as rabbits and foxes — the one and only Alan Belford Jones:

John-Michael Howson + Alf Stewart = Alan Jones

Have a flamin’ lovely week.

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