Thursday, April 05, 2007

The Easter Special

The Easter Special

Featuring a crap photoshop, and a crapper poem

First class ticket to Hell, plzEaster - a pome by S. Duck, aged 41 (all his own work)

Blood in his eyes
From the crown

Flesh ripped from his bones
As he hangs

Can't breathe
Can't scream

He closes his eyes
Sees his future

A chocolate egg.

---===---

And after that low quality hummus, you want a Thursday vote-o too?

Choose, then, from this little lot, with showbiz-tinged vote-o quote-os courtesy of the poor, dead House of Lies:

* Doctors and Nurses: The next James Bond movie “The World Never Dies Twice Dr No Finger My Pussy Galore” will star TV’s Dale Winton as super-spy 007.

* Bullshit: The latest Hollywood blockbuster in the making is Moby Beaver, one man’s obsessive hunt for the Great White Aquatic Mammal that gnawed off his wooden leg. Starring Jean-Claude van Damme, Sandra Bullock and Graham the Wonder Beaver.

* Cretin Band: The world of show-business has been thrown into turmoil with the news that Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen are not in fact teenage twin sisters. Mary-Kate is, in fact, a thirty-seven year old veteran of straight-to-video movies; while Ashley (or to give “her” real name - Brian) is a former bricklayer from Blackburn, Lancs who enjoys ferret racing and ecky thump.

* A Trip to Edinburgh: High society magazine Hello! is to produce a special edition for readers in Yorkshire. It’ll be called Eyup! A further picture-heavy version will be produced for Chavs, entitled "What you looking at, Cahnt!"

* Scud: Lovable kids' TV characters The Chuckle Brothers hide a terrible family secret: their recently deceased Uncle Gus was, in fact, General Augusto Pinochet, deposed dictator of Chile, and worse still, a close personal friend of Margaret Thatcher.

Scud, alas, is exactly what you think it is: an in depth investigation into the development and deployment of the Soviet SS-1 ballistic missile in various theatres of modern warfare. You wouldn't want to read it.

You know the drill by now - your choice, comments box, along with your detailed reasoning as to why I should never attempt to write poetry again.

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