It must be true. After all, I saw it on the Tele. No wonder Hollywood aren’t churning out the blockbusters 90’s style no more. All the big actors and fakesters are on the news. He’s down! He’s down! QUICK! MAKE-UP! MAKE-UP! ANYONE GOT A BOTTLE OF TOMATO SAUCE?
And now for the Main Event.
…
Title Fight Night at the Prime Time Tele Theatre Company.
Sponsored by your friends at Big Pharma.
Keeping you safe and defected.
…
DING DING DING!
...
And in the right corner. The Lord of Lockdown, the Hammer of Main Street, The Fist Pumper, The Jabby-Jab Thumper, the assassin-dodging Vax-Daddy Golden Calf Patriot.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Go home!
And in the left, the Stroppy Sloppy Poppy with the thousand yard stare, Mr Trip Up The Stair, our very own go-slow, where-do-I-go, Can-I-Sniff-The-Hair-Of-That-Ho, Great Replacement Golden Calf Open-Border Pro.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Go home!
…
Oh noooooooo! One down....the steps of Air-Force 1. And he's OUT! It’s okay folks, his handlers are pickin’ him up, yet again, but wait! We have a third contestant of this clownsy tag-team entering the ring.
...
DING DING DING!
...
Not your average,
It's a grinning C-List horror-flick clown-face so savage.
Here to fix up the mess, it's a cure in a dress,
‘Cuse me I meant to say big-boy pants,
The gardener watering the communist plants.
Not just a heinous grinner but a real lady-vote winner,
Not forgettin’, it’s priorities for minorities,
Sorry there pale-face, you’re just a working-class tax cow,
Gettin’ squeezed for that milk.
So Ladies and Gentlemen, and those that identify as non-binary telephone booths, a round of applause, for the one, for the only. For the golden-spoon pony. She’s gotta be a winner, Big Mike is endorsing this one.
Civilisations greatest beacon of hope in this wonderful sunshiny computer-modelled, Smart-Tech enslaved, AI-kerfuddled soup-kitchen of a world magically materialising all around us,
please welcome the Golden Calf Camel-Toe statue-ette!
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Go home!
...
Such heroes. Such fighters. Such sneaky blighters.
Such short memories.
Too many have forgotten the lockdowns and mandates these crooked screen-acting hawks they call politicians imposed on those that could least afford it. The all-out assault on the working poor. Get the shot. Got to get the shot. It’s a beautiful shot. Get the Big Pharma needle or taste the sidewalk.
…
He took a shot for democracy. Well, a splash of the ole’ ketchup under the podium anyway. And yes, well the coerced working poor took a shot too, only theirs was under extreme duress, coerced for their livelihoods. Democracy; the cheeba pipe dream that never was.
Any year. Any country. Any fixed election.
Whichever secret-handshaker selected to win,
We always lose.
Put that hope in a hyena.
That always works well.
Left, right, centre.
Presidents. Prime Ministers, dictating to you, slave, on behalf of the Alpine Masters.
PR reps for the corporations holding our chains.
…
The Burning of Rome
Gleiwitz Radio Station attack.
Gulf Of Tonkin Incident
WTC 1,2&7 demolition.
Saddam Hussein’s WMD’s
COVID-19 scam of scams.
A Cybertruck parked outside a Vegas Hotel.
.....................
(fill in the blank for the next big hoax that fucks our lives).
The world is their stage.