At the End of the Day

mesmile Good evening and welcome to another star-studded edition of 1.4 Billion go Mad at Easter. Yes, our Saviour died so that the kids could stuff their faces with chocolate and honk it all up by 11 am. He also hung there to ensure that 18% of Americans would believe in Seven-Day Creationism, and US Presidents could weep about one side’s liddle babies, and ignore the other side’s. The North Koreans embraced Communism so that they could be rid of all this hokum and be equal owners of the State, but also hand over power for safe keeping to a bunch of boys-toys generals with unfeasibly silly large hats ….and to keep the People happy, the big hats blokes created a dynasty with glandular problems and a cast-iron solid psychopathy gene.

Joining us tonight for this special celebratory broadcast are all those loved ones separated from us by Facebook. Somewhere along the line I failed to say ‘No’ during a software installation and as a result every blog here now appears there. The Slog’s aim in the end is to appear everywhere and nowhere – but also, that this will be my decision as opposed to one taken by a silo slimeball down there as opposed to up here.

But first, more on that Silly Hats story, and our roving reporter over there in North Kareering Missiles Land sends us this exclusive unphotoshopped shot of the winners in this year’s Five-Legged Race to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the birth of Kim Jong-un’s late greatgrandniece Kum By-Yar:


As the cult of personality spreads across the Globe, Complete Cult ruler of North Britain Nic Stur-gun launched a McJock Mk II ICBM nuclear referendum, timed deliberately to coincide with the Easter appeal for unity made by Te Sa-May of the US-supported Southern Counties. Nic told an adoring audience that North Britain “is ready for war and will in the best traditions of this fine country get dressed up in skirts to swarm across the border, although personally I’ve always been a bit of a trousers girl masel’, hen”.

Launched from beneath the waters of Holy Loch Ness, the object was later identified by Downing Street sources as a kite bought online from Ebay two years ago.

Bloggers in general spend far too much time peddling their own beliefs, as opposed to questioning the veracity of news, a panel of experts from the Fog & Strumpet pub in Walsall has found.

The experts – Sam Wetleg, Myra Earwig and Toby Cod – found the conclusion on the back of a beer coaster during a brainstorming session involving 13 pints each of Flander’s Wristy Wirepuller.

“It was there,” said Toby, “staring us in the face: the words ‘Flander’s Wristy Wirepuller: be careful what you wish for’. Immediately, we knew we were onto something.”

As a self-confessed online socio-political commentator, I am always on the lookout for bona fide experts, so that I may safely avoid them in the future. Bona fide experts, by the way, are not to be confused with Bony Fido treats experts – a group of dog-lovers who swear by that product as a training aid when it comes to Norfolk terriers.

But I digress. I avoid bona fide experts in the future so that I may ignore their predictions about that future, which are reliably wrong. But as the Fog & Strumpet Triumvirate clearly don’t know what the jam-strangling water bison they’re on about, my inclination is to put their hypothesis to the test.

Viz and to whit: should we be careful what we wish for?

There is strong evidence to support this. We wished for an Arab spring, but it turned out to be merely a springboard for those about to dive into the cesspool of American Middle East foreign policy. We wished for an end to WOMD by getting rid of Saddam Hussein, and instead they simply decamped to Syria. We wished for an end to inequality in Rhodesia, but that morphed into egalitarian famine under Mugabe’s Zimbabwe. Or was it Zigabe’s Mumbabwe…….I can never remember.

We wished for an end to the House of Clinton, and got the Trump Hotel. We wished for an end to Michael ShootinFoot, and got Moral Tone. We wished for an end to Moral Tone and got Gordo Broondoom. Broondoom begat Cameldung, and Cameldung begat Mayormaynot.

We need to clean up all this wishfulness: not for nothing do we have the descriptor “wishy-washy” for all things lacking in clarity and substance.

I see a campaign forming in my head, because I was born with my eyes pointing in the wrong direction.  I see the launch of the WOW Party – The Wash Out Wishes Party. It will be the natural home for all those washouts who never wished for anything in their lives.

Blackabbott & Beardrick vs Everyone: Episode 1