Monday, May 13, 2013


The big problem is that the cuprolites ( persisting in dictating our lives are what their sort are.
They have no contact with living, breathing human beings.

Yet somehow, out there is a sort of coprolite society that gangs together to make our lives a complete misery, a total fiasco.

Somehow, it becomes announced that some member of the coprolite society has been selected or pre-selected for that raffle – that RAFFLE which they INSIST is the basis for one or the other of their fossilised sort to become our representative.

Strikingly remarkable, isn’t it.
They win a compulsory reverse raffle into which we are all required to ‘cast a vote’ – after which the winner of that raffle causes most of their electorate a world of grief!
So what sort of representative government is it when a complete bastard wins the raffle, then tells each and every of his electorate to go boil their heads whenever they want some help with the merest process in governance?

Besides which, those bludgers have been carefully ‘pre – selected’ by their pals and by no-one else.
Work that out.
None of ‘em would ever have been selected or ‘pre – selected’ by their pals if they were not as utterly rotten as their pals.

None of you have ever had any input toward their 'selection'.
None of ‘em would have ever been chosen unless they were prepared to swear blind, to their grubby pals, that they’d screw the peasantry rigid and rip ‘em off blind when so required by their 'tontine'.

That is in fact the base line fact of our rotten, corrupt politics.
As raw, as base and as simple as that.

As base and stupid as it is – the best outcome for the next election is to  humbug and bugger the laborites by voting for their filth.
Then when they are back in office – get stuck into them.
Then sack Gillard, swann and all their klatch.

Hey! If their lot can appoint that idiot from nsw (bobcarr, is it?) as a senator and foreign minister – then so can the riff-raff choose some better from their fold.

Get into it peasantry.

Cause these lizards some untold grief before they stew you blind – or leave what is left of you lying out in the sun like some rock-hard dog turd!

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