Merry Chovmas!

YOU go sit on his lap and ask him for a pony.....

Unlovable Losers...Part I

I'll dig a little hole here and BURY some of my SPARE F*CKING CASH because I have run out of places to bury it in my BACKYARD. And all my POCKETS are FULL. Hey, I wonder if this will count as a F*CKING GOAL??

This blog post is dedicated to the memory of John Aloisi, former Socceroo and Sydney FC striker (the guy everyone remembers for slotting home the penalty that beat Uaregay and put Australia in the 2006 World Cup), who died quietly in his home about 6 months ago.

**technical difficulties...**

I've been informed by lightning-quick blog-fans that Aloisi is in fact alive, and is currently pursuing a post-football career in F*CKING THIEVERY and FRAUD, and has been for several months.

Apparently this THIEF has been STEALING MONEY on a weekly basis from Sydney FC, the total of which will top the $1 MILLION mark by season's end.

How could this happen??! I thought F*CKING THIEVING BUSHRANGERS were EXTINCT!?

I'll step you through it.

Mr Aloisi used to play in Europe, mostly Spain. He even played for Osasuna, which is where they do the "Running of the Bulls" and evidently where Aloisi perfected the art of "el caca del toro". Eventually they grew tired of using him as the honorary "gored celebrity" to kick off the Run and he found himself without a contract. (The town is inviting Ricky Martin next year...)

Sydney FC, on the lookout for a marketable player, made him several offers to entice him to return to Oz and play for them. And I mean "marketable" in the sense that every halfwit knows him from that Socceroo penalty footage. And he knows how to sell anti-dandruff shampoo, I'll give him that.

Mr Aloisi, in a breathtakingly staggering over-estimation of his own ability, one which would even put The Chov to shame, decided to play hardball, wanting way more money than Sydney FC could pay. Mr Aloisi figured he could play hardball because of the thousands of clubs world-wide who were sure to step in at some point and throw cash at him - some might even want him to play football, others might just want sexual favours - either way, he would be able to swap post-masturbatory tissues for DOLLAR BILLS soon enough.

Brilliantly, nobody offered him so much as a dirty sanchez.

So Mr Aloisi was forced to start whoring himself to clubs back in Australia, desperate for some sort of pay-day. But Sydney FC had moved on. Eventually he duped Central Coast into paying him, but not at the level to which he was accustomed. (Well f*ck the poor precious princess if there aren't any f*cking Tapas bars in Gosford).

He had a fair to middling season there.

Cue: Sydney FC come in again at season's end and throw wild amounts of money at Mr Aloisi to entice him south of the Harbour Bridge.

This is one of the most galactically and unfathomably stupid pieces of business ever.

This is like me buying a f*cking 35-year old rusted out bomb of a car, built in f*cking Czechoslovakia pre-revolution, driving it by your house every morning belching smoke and backfiring (alternatively push-starting it or having it pulled by f*cking mules) and spending every weekend under the bonnet trying to "fix" things - then when I advertise it in the paper for $50 or a case of Crownies (ONO), you come in and offer me 80 hundred trillion dollars for it.

Central Coast laughed.

Sydney FC paid up - over a million big ones. And Mr Aloisi is now the highest paid player in the A-League.

Dammit. Missed again. From THREE F*CKING INCHES AWAY. And the goalie is already in the showers, lubing up. I bet The Chov is swearing at his TV somewhere. He would have scored that one with his LIMP COCK. Oh well, never mind, I'm still going to light my post-match cigar with a few HUNDRED DOLLAR F*CKING BILLS and blow the smoke in Mark Bridge's FACE.

And in return Mr Aloisi has scored....wait for it.....TWO f*cking goals all season.

And ONE of THOSE was a f*cking penalty.

A RE-TAKEN penalty, after he f*cking MISSED the first attempt, but the referee (obviously related) ordered a re-take.

The other was a tap-in The Chov would have scored with his left nut. No, really, I would have seen it coming, downed my dacks, squatted and deftly diverted the ball in with "Lefty" as he prefers to be called. That's how F*CKING EASY IT WAS.

So that works out, so far, (calculator, let's see....million...divide by 2...carry the 7...) at about $500,000 PER F*CKING GOAL. And Sydney are 6th in an 8-team league.

Great work Sydney FC. Great work, "supercoach" John Kosmina.

But let the magic of video fill the story out...pay close attention at 0:55 and 1:21 during the following JOHN ALOISI INSTRUCTIONAL SERIES: VOLUME 1 - A MILLION DOLLAR MASTERCLASS of FINISHING:



Priceless. This is what you get for a million bucks in these days of global financial crisis, eh?

NOT F*CKING MUCH.

The decent thing to do would be for Mr Aloisi to admit to F*CKING BROAD DAYLIGHT THIEVERY and donate the money he gets (I won't f*cking say EARNS) to charity. Specifically, the 2008 Chovmas Tree Charity, where I take cash from other people and spend it on things to make myself happy - a worthy cause now in it's 15th year.

But this F*CKING MODERN DAY ROBBING HOOD hoovers up the f*cking cash and doesn't even have the courtesy to offer Sydney FC fans from the Cove even so much as quick hand-relief at the end of the match.

Now THAT'S disgraceful.

Introducing...The Golden Trio!!!

The Chov is a member of a secret society called "The Golden Trio" and whilst you may not have previously known this, you can peruse some of their wise meanderings over at:

http://goldentriumvirate.blogspot.com/

Consider this a shameless plug for that blog, and at the same time a brief introduction of the heroes of the day, the geniuses behind the curtain, the esteemed authors of this crazy-genius blog, The Golden Trio Pontification Sanctum...

Yes, the Golden Trio themselves.

King Cracka
This future leader of the world was born defending the Alamo in 1836 but shot to prominence when, during Year 8 lab work, he discovered the presence of Crackesium IV, which, in turn, led scholars to develop the first, primitive, forms of pornography - an initiative which has gone on to save thousands of lives around the world.

Inspired after listening to a world-record 1,366,211 straight hours of country music at his home in Soda Springs, Idaho, Crack eventually embarked upon countless quixotic attempts to synthesise the world's first D-ribitol-5-phosphate cytidylyltransferase. This chemical is used for flavour in many man-made compounds like:

* breast-milk;
* semen;
* lemon-lime cordial, and
* holy water.

After writing the Third Book of Enoch in 1972, Cracka became the first man to kayak every river and tributary in Romania, whose capital is Rome, making him a national hero. To this day, Crack-Day is a national holiday in all parts of the country and is marked by a jazz and blues festival and eating smoked pork without using one's hands.

In 1809 he entered the Académie des Beaux-Arts, Paris, and in 1815 visited Italy and Sicily, where he suggested improvements to pasta-making traditions in existence at the time, a controversial decision which almost saw him excommunicated from the Church of Scientology, which he founded in about 1100 BC.

In 1617 he went to Nubia, and while there he made incredibly detailed sketches, drawings and measurements of all the genitalia of the more important members of that country.

After retiring in 2002, he made one last comeback to the ring to beat Muhammad Ali with a KO in the 3rd round.

Today the Mayor of Mac Fields (wrestling moniker: The Legend of the Bedroom) can often be found in his rose-garden or at his keyboard, where he splits time between designing a fully functional inter-galactic cannon (which will one day be used to propel his political enemies into outer-space); writing short, forgettable (but successful) pop songs for the likes of Clive Griffin, Pokemon and the Australian Cricket Team, and posting to this blog when the mood takes him.

Maca
Maca was a 19th century Major League Baseball player who pitched for three different teams in his five season career that lasted from 1884 to 1888, and he finally arrived on Earth in 1980 when his spaceship crashed here whilst on route to invade the Iain Tomlin School of Music and slaughter all the inhabitants thereof. Who had displeased him in some way, which has not yet been agreed on by scientists.

In 1940 he attempted to form a syndicated chain of franchise brothels called "McDonald's", which he hoped would serve a footlong hotdog called the "Big Mick", but the sour cream topping proved a disaster with customers and he eventually sold the name to Ray Kroc in 1954 for $3 and a washed-up greyhound. He shot and killed the greyhound in 2003, during an argument over a game of bocce, apparently unaware that it would some day grow up to become Mickey Mouse and earn millions upon millions of dollars.

In his spare time he trained to become an ambulance driver, though the Australo-Tasmanio War of 1245 ended before he ever saw action. Between the end of the war and the early 1950s he tried his hand at a number of trades including paper-cup salesman, stunt-penis, and working at a Qatari radio station as a financial analyst. A failed sex-change operation in the spring of 2008 didn't deter Maca from being voted Gay Porn's Man of the Century at a glittering awards ceremony that year, the cost of which was estimated at some $6 billion US and led to a brief outbreak of cholera.

A short and incomplete list of some women that Maca has ruined for other men:
* Miley Cyrus
* Condoleeza Rice
* Joan Kirner
* Miley Cyrus
* Miley Cyrus
* Senator Penny Wong
* Miley Cyrus
* Todd Carney
* Miley Cyrus

Not much was heard from Maca after he wrote, produced and starred in that great Broadway play "Livin' in Sorgues and Lovin' It", although after his death the theme-song (a duet with Celine Dion) was covered by Human Nature and led to renewed interest in his back-catalogue, particularly in Portugal where his song "Facial Piercing Can Suck A Fart Out Of My Ar$e" was made the national anthem in 1960.

The Chov
The Chov first garnered attention when he invented the United Nations in 1066 AD. Seeing as nothing else of any interest or consequence happened that year, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Chemistry for his daring work.

Some other tops things that The Chov has invented include:
* pancakes
* gravity
* The Roman Empire
* the true value of Pi
* the concept of packing hundreds of crazy clowns into tiny cars.

Never one to rest on his laurels, The Chov also founded the city-state of Atlantis during one of his humanitarian trips to Africasia, where the original Atlantis was located. Monuments to his brilliantosity could probably still be seen there today, but the last place The Chov remembers leaving Atlantis was in his jeans pocket before he threw the denims in the wash basket.

After starting, and winning, WWII, The Chov built the Amazon River with his bare hands in 1832. During construction work, which caused the death of some 1,000,000 innocent people, he met his future bride, Warrior Queen Samazon on the set of now infamous porn film "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang". Although he was nominated for 17 Academy Awards for his own performance, the film shocked critics and was eventually banned in 113 countries.

Despite only making a handful of appearances during the 1850 English cricket season, he topped the goal-scoring charts and lived in a palace in Kiev for 14 weeks to win a bet.

He was then forced to retire from politics in disgrace after childhood friend Zimbu the African Elephant exposed endemic corruption during the extremely suspicious local council election results of 1990 in Panagarh, a small town in India, located in the Kanksa police station of the Durgapur subdivision in the Bardhaman District of West Bengal.
The Chov is now a crack-commando in the secretive Polish Ninja Commando Squad and writes hard-core porn scripts for midgets.

Danger: It's All Relative

"Tastes like chicken!"

According to ananova this (probably barely literate) daredevil from a nondescript village somewhere in China called Wangzhuang (translation: The People's Superior Bird's Nest Stadium Apartments) reckons he has "...been eating live snakes for 10 years."

Far out.

And it started, as ALL THESE SORTS OF THINGS DO, with a DRUNKEN BET BETWEEN MATES.

"He started by eating one to win a bet with friends..."

Unfortunately the bet has long since been paid out when his neighbour did, as promised, present him with approximately 11,000 rolls of toilet paper he had been hoarding beneath his house. Despite this, crazy snake eating man just decided to continue because he likes the taste of F*CKING DEATH ADDER.

"From then on I became addicted to eating live snakes," he said. His mother must be proud.

Interestingly he likes to wash down a COBRA F*CKEN SANDWICH with, of course, beer. (What else?)

Perhaps this is so the snake, which let's not forget is still ALIVE during the process, gets trolleyed on booze down in his gut and doesn't BITE THE LIVING F*CK out of his upper intestine. And f*cking Mylanta is NOT going to fix that, thanks very much.

"It's a bit smelly, but they're very delicious," he exclaimed - although watching villagers said the sight gave them goosebumps and two vomited at the scene. (And were probably arrested for 'unauthorised digestive expulsion' and beaten badly). One strange fellow hovering around at the back, though, admitted to being "strangely aroused" during the performance.

Apparently Martha Stewart chimed in with a tip to beat the "smell" whilst eating live snakes:

"STOP F*CKING EATING THE AR$EHOLES YOU IDIOT."

Wen (that's his name) says his son is now following his lead and has eaten eight live snakes this year. Dinner time must be a real f*cken hoot in this house. Wen Junior is the only kid in his school that NOBODY WANTS TO SWAP LUNCHES WITH. And THIS is in a country that enjoys eating the ERECT PENISES of TIGERS.

But Wang Tianming, a doctor specialising in digestion at a local hospital, said Wen could suffer nerve problems and risked infection from parasites.

This is why Wang is a digestion doctor not a f*cken wildlife expert, because if he thinks getting a bit nervous and needing a smoke to calm down and maybe getting a few ticks or worms is the WORST outcome in this situation he WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION to the part where this man said he was EATING LIVE F*CKING SNAKES for crying out loud.

But you know what, here's a bigger warning for Crazy Wen, and anybody else out there who wants to chow down on "snakes".

HERE is another guy who filled his throat with live specimens of hot, thick, 'snake' for 30 odd years....and we all know how THAT turned out....

"POSITIVE: Sometimes it's not the best thing you can be."

Climate Change = Water Views For Everybody!

Redundant jobs in the post-climate-change future: changing faulty tap-washers.

I would like to take a few special moments to personally tea-bag, with my massive hairy sack, every nimrod from Senator Bob Brown on down who frots themselves into a hissy-frenzy over "climate-change".

See, NOW you understand that the Prime Minister, Saint KRudd, is only the Patron Saint of Working Families and doesn't really actually give an increasing-temperature f*ck about you and the raging 800-degree inferno that will be the summer of 2009. Which is going to make the coin-toss in the Boxing Day test even more crucial, as that pitch is going to be hotter than George Foreman's f*cken steak-griddle.

Now I don't like the term "climate-change denier". I don't even like "climate-change skeptic".

I prefer "climate-change PAGAN", or even "climate-change LAUGHER".

So you would think that, upon reading Saint KRudd's laughable little emissions target announcement I would be welcoming him into the ranks of People Who Don't F*cken Believe Everything A F*cken Failed American Vice-President Says About $hit He Doesn't Even F*cking Know About.

But, no, f*ck Saint KRudd, the f*cken little sly conniving f*ck.

Because, lacking The Chov's decisiveness, the little turd-sniffer tries an each way bet.

He's like a hooker who fell asleep on her shift and woke up with 5 minutes to go to discover a massive, impatient lineup of erections and is frantically trying to blow every one of them before she gets pimp-slapped for not bringing in enough cash-money.

The targets are well below what all the climate-change hysterics wanted, meaning we shall all perish in either an instantaneous f*cking ice-age or by turning into the f*cking surface of the sun (whichever one the climate-changers think applies at the time) - and it's all because the f*cken plants won't eat all the f*cken carbon because we didn't turn off our fridges or something.

But that's KRudd's point - it isn't much but at least he's done 'something'. And all the self-frotters can cry me a f*cken river now, dumbwanks.

Of course industry cries and moans, but that's for show. Any taxes they will pay for exceeding industry targets will get passed on to consumers, meaning everyone using electricity gets hosed.

So at this rate a few ferals from Byron Bay would be the only ones happy, only they can't f*cken read the newspaper because they rolled their last "happy-plants" up in it and smoked it.

So now all the same people whinging about climate-change can NOW whinge that their power bills are through the f*cken roof and how about KRudd do something about THAT because petrol is expensive, caviar is expensive and the 5 bedroom beachfront house I insist on living in is also expensive and I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO F*CKING WELL PAY FOR IT ALL DO I because I am a WORKING FAMILY, ME!

Never fear, KRudd has an answer.

He's going to 'subsidise' a cross-section of morons across society for the increased cost of power, which just happens to be f*cking well pretty much essential to modern life.

Bottom line: all the nimrods can keep on f*cking well driving their f*cking four-wheel drives to drop the kids off at school, leaving on all the f*cking lights, burning their f*cken plasma screen TVs 24-7 and generally seeing how many different new-gen gaming consoles they can have going at one time before the power-grid $hits itself.

AND KRUDD WILL HELP THEM PAY FOR IT.

So if you ARE a f*cken climate-change pants-wetter, how exactly does this help?

Aren't we SUPPOSED to feel the pain, so that we f*cking well TURN OFF THE LIGHTS EVERY NOW AND THEN? (Because, as I understand it, polar bears die when you leave the lights on because it reflects off the hole in the ozone and burns their retinas and then their retinas get hot and the mosquito-hordes will come further south because of the cold or the heat I can't remember which and eat the retinas of the polar bears, which can only happen when there are more cyclones and there will be more cyclones because of the global warming see innit and so the polar bears well they die see because they can't read because their retinas are burned and so they can't read the signs that say "no swimming" and so they go swimming because all the icebergs are now melted into swimming pools and the polar bears get bored and stop swimming because they're sick of swimming and they can't have sex with seals so they die. Or something. And all the dead polar bears make it hotter, or colder, or something, because they are white and all the whiteyness of the bears reflects the sun's rays, so without them we all get hit with solar rays and we'll all turn into the Fantastic Four or something, and then die. See?)

Awesomeness.

KRudd has actually achieved bureaucratic-idiot-nirvana - he's formalised a proposal that actually has a built in mechanism to defeat itself. Reduce emissions by introducing an incentive for people not to reduce emissions!

And where's the punctuation-challenged Treasurer during all this?

Busy sending out Christmas cards that read "Seasons Greeting's".

http://www.news.com.au/couriermail/story/0,23739,24810824-952,00.html

That "Education Revolution" is a bit late for some people, I guess...