Sunday, December 31

The New Year's Eve Blog

I apologise for the lack of blog-icity the past few week, things have been so busy with Christmas and the holiday season and killing Gerald Ford that I just couldn't find my motivation, or as the French call it - 'motivation'.

They go up for the 'tion'.

Anyway, I'm required by the terms of my parole to post a New Year's Eve blog. I'm not one of those 'Year In Review' poonces though. I think there's enough shows on television counting down the best moments of every fucking thing ever for me to skip that idea entirely.

So, having ditched the YearInReview, I figure we go topical.

previously, on lost

. Yesterday, Saddam Hussein was hung.

wa wa wee wa!

Haha. I liked that one. Yesterday, Saddam Hussein was hanged.

You can watch the video here, if you're so inclined. You don't see the neck snap or anything, but man... Those Iraqis are LOUD. I'm for the death penalty in places that have it, provided they're not bogan Aussies in Indonesia.

I love the hanging thing, it's like Corn Flakes. Sometimes the simple things in life are often the best.

Oh, and - 'hanged'. It's the only time you're allowed to intentionally screw up your grammar and get away with it. Is 'hung' only a modern word, or did it have the 'giant dick' connotations back in medieval England too? When enemies of the King were 'hung', did people giggle?

And that's where we end the year. A dick joke.

We really should have seen it coming.

.....And we're done.

Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 28


Former President Ford dies at 93
December 27, 2006 -

So like, I'm either very, very psychic, or I just killed Gerald Ford by making a joke about him dying on my blog on Tuesday. Like... blog... then 12 hours later - death. Do my powers only kill 93 year old ex-Presidents? Or can I extend them to... oh, I dunno, 67 year old current Prime Ministers? Or Daryll Sommers?

Anyway, R.I.P Mr. Ford. You are my favourite President because you had nachos and watched football with Homer Simpson in that episode I liked.

Tuesday, December 26

I felt good! Nananana! I knew that I would!

Celebrity deaths always come in threes. Actually, that's wrong. Celebrity deaths just always come, but if you say they come in threes and you pick the three most famous for that month, it sounds cooler and spookier. And it lets you wonder out loud about the short-term mortality of former President Gerald Ford. That guy is old.

But most of all, I'd like to thank my Vice-President - Father Time.

But recently, the celebsdyinginthrees thing has come to pass. First, we had Peter Boyle, the cranky father of Raymond on the hit sitcom 'Raymond Loves Everybody'.

He doesn't remember what else he was in either

Then, the Godfather of Soul, the preacher from Blues Brothers, Mr. James Brown.

ah, giddonupya hotpants, gitchya, ahh, hotpannts gimmedem hotpants

And today, the English Cricket Team.

lol punchline!!

May they all rest in peace, except James Brown who beat his wife.

Saturday, December 23

The Christmas Blog

It's pretty much a universal Christmas tradition, at least in movies, (ok, just National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation) - an older, male member of the family (not a chick, chicks can't read) will sit down all the kids and read them The Night Before Christmas on Christmas Eve.

You know it. Everyone knows it. But do you know what it really means? I mean, some of the language is a little archaic. 'Kercheifs and coursers and 'ere. So, as I'm wicked smart, I thought I'd translate the old poem literally, to help you all understand it. I call it...

Tommy Translates The Old Poem Literally, To Help You All Understand It

by Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Friday, December 22

Tommy Sells Out For Hits

Ok, so like.. my blog normally gets about 50 hits a day. Pretty small in the grand scheme of things. But today, it got 550. And it's only 3:30pm. All because of a girl named Katie Rees, aka Miss Nevada.

I am not exaggerating when I say I am in the top ten hits on Google for "miss nevada breasts", "miss nevada titties", "miss nevada+titties", "miss nevada sex photos", "miss nevada nipple" and of course "boob miss nevada".

So, I figure I'll run with it. Here's your photos, perves.

She's the one in the middle.

I'd give her a googling

To read about Miss Nevada being slutty (why are people surprised the state with Las Vegas is the whore-ish one?), and to see more pics - click here.

I feel dirty.

Especially because now people searching for 'dirty miss nevada photos' are going to find my blog. That's just wrong.

Merry tits boobies breasts Christmas

Thursday, December 21

Matt's Christmas Message

I am officially goneskis as of tomorrow on my South Coast Drinking Safari (SCDS for short (pronounced Ess-Cee-Dees)), and will miss you all terribly. I have reasonable intelligence that a small percentage of you will not miss me. To those people I say ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘I hope you die whilst ingesting a bag of your own shit’.

This being my first Christmas spent away from the family, I decided it was necessary for me to get into the Christmas spirit early, safe in the knowledge that this year I will be lucky to remember any of it, barring the fallout from a drunken phone call to my parents assuring them that I love them so much, like, totally like the most anyone has ever, oh man, what was I saying, I think some fuckhead stole all my beer, man, fuck.

History will remember this as the year that changed my Christmas forever.

The first stop on my journey was the ever-contemporary ‘Santa-Bot’ over at Now, I remember seeing this technology at the Powerhouse museum (first floor underneath the lobby, near the bottom of the escalators, right next to the giant keyboard a la A*Mazing) where you type things to the computer and it does its best to simulate a conversation with you. Now, I usually find the whole thing about as stimulating as attempting to converse with a stillborn foetus, but at, I’m fairly sure they just plug your stuff into MSN and I just happened to get put through to a strung-out 16-year-old Californian with easy access to historical information on Saint Nikolas.

The aforementioned SantaBot or, as I have come to know him, SurferDude55 from CA, bra.

Santa: Hello! What is your name?
Matt: I'm Matt. I write for Tommy's lame ass blog.
Santa: Hi, Matt. I write for Socko's lame ass blog.
Matt: OK.. I thought Tommy might have mentioned something like that. Anyway, what's crackin, Sant's?
Santa: You tell me.
Matt: Looks like your chair's crackin under your big ass there, duder.
Santa: Interesting comparison.
Matt: That.. that wasn't a comparison.
Santa: That is "Interesting comparison"What is a comparison?
Matt: What? Are you high or something?
Santa: Or something. Being high is my total existence.
Matt: That's pretty awesome. How much did you smoke?
Santa: Who is the best robot? How much do you think?
Matt: That sounds like a lot of bones to be smokin', Santa.
Santa: It sounds like it to me too.
Matt: Awesome, so does Mrs. Claus know? Or you keep it on the down-low?
Santa: "It sounds like it to me too"? Awesome so does Mrs? I'm "Claus" for my friends. "Nikolaos" for all the boring adults. It's a Greek name, because I was born in the Greek town of Patara 1800 years ago. Later, I became bishop of Myra, and more later even a saint ... Saint Nikolaos - Santa Claus. You see? I am Santa. I give presents to kids.
Matt: Holy shit, dude, you get talky after a few joints.
Santa: You used a colloquial expression. You got that right. Dude.
Matt: You're so hip, Santa.
Santa: I am Santa. I give presents to kids.
Matt: Right on, brother. Right on.

Man, remember the Powerhouse? It’s like, all I can think about now. Remember back when you were a kid and you used to go there? It was full of 80’s technology freak-out stuff, and every single fucking exhibit had everything on touch screen for some reason, maybe the occasional trackball thrown in. And there was that giant train there, and the cafĂ© outside was really lame and in this tiny courtyard, and the monorail station was right next to it, and once I went to the Star Wars exhibit they had there and I wanted to touch some giant car-thing because Natalie Portman had touched it in the movie and I figured if I could get some of her DNA on me I could sound more believable when I told people we had made out but when I reached over they had like some laser alarm thing and this loud whistle thing went off and the security guard came over and gave me a really stern look but I totally could have taken him. I bet if you went to the Powerhouse now it would be full of really insane future-tech stuff like hover-cars and invisible ink and insane, 3-D computer glove controls like in Minority Report but they still have touch screens everywhere so people don’t just completely freak the fuck out.

The current interior of the Powerhouse Museum.
a.k.a. Google Image Search for 'Future'.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, have a decent Christmas and a kwazy Kwanza. See you in ’07.

Wednesday, December 20

Return To Maxipad - A guest blog.

Less than sixth months after his last expedition (read that here), prominent TommyIsCool guest blogger REDACTED returned to Maxipad Island a few days ago. This is his guest blog.

It was the last thing he ever wrote.


Fresh Crab Claws with roasted sweet potato, served with a cold beer. After dinner enjoy a 30 year old port and a fine cigar. Sound like the menu of some shmancy restaurant? Guess again. It’s the food served up on the infamous MAXIPAD Island. (Tommy can thank me later for writing a blog with both "maxipad" and "crabs" in it, so he increases his sicko search hits from Google).

Yes, its uni holidays again, so it was time for another expedition north to re-claim the fabled land and determine whether anything was learnt from the last time we went. Several things improved the journey immensely, and only move to establish Maxipad as the number one holiday destination of the adventurous.

Firstly, we went in Summer, instead of the middle of Winter. This meant that we had several more hours of day, and several more degrees of temperature at night. We also changed what we took. We ditched the hammocks, water and machetes, and replaced them with a 30 pack of VB tins, sweet potatoes and a hatchet. Subtle differences I know, but they added hours of fun. We could spend time creating the greatest wind chime ever, or seeing how much we could chop out of a tree before it fell over.

not a tree - REDACTED's leg after a poorly aimed chop

But it didn’t stop there, Maxipad gets even better.

One of the downfalls of the last journey was that we left the cars in a conference centre about 7kms down the road, hence having to come up with methods to hitchhike. This time though, no plans were made. We found a caravan park right on the water, and just dumped the car. Much easier.

shots of beer cans to establish masculinity

We also figured out how to get food from the lake. Despite many hours spent fishing last time, we were overwhelmingly unsuccessful. This time, we realized that if you cover your hand with a sock, and kayak out just before it gets dark, you can find other peoples crab-pots and take out your own “Operation Crabi Freedom”.

However, crabs are quite difficult to get out of a crab net when its dark, you’ve been drinking, and you're sittting in a kayak. So I really recommend just teasing the crab till it trys to bite you between the wire, then grab its claw and pull. They are the best bit anyway. Just be a bit nice and leave every crab with at least one claw.

The only sad bit about Maxipad this time, was the absence of the softest person in the world, REDACTED. Our mate REDACTED talks trash about others being soft. Up at Nelson Bay several weeks ago, REDACTED would berate someone at four in the morning, wanting them to walk an hour in the rain for Maccas. But now, oh how the tables have turned.

I guess we should have seen this coming. Last time on the island you spread a tarp over your hammock, and brought a sleeping bag to keep warm at night. I think I even remember you taking a change of clothes. Why didn’t we see the signs?

You are as soft as REDACTEDis bitter (and likes cats), REDACTED. If they have computers made out of marshmallow in SoftLand, and you are reading this, just know, your name has been added to the “Soft Tree” on the island.

And there it will remain until you return to scrape it off.

Tuesday, December 19

Who's on first? YOU.

So, TIME Magazine announced their Person Of The Year. You've probably heard about it. My family has a subscription, so I'm pretty awesome. But after reading the mag, turns out I'm more awesome than I thought. Cause I'm the TIME Person Of The Year. Yep. And you too. In fact, everybody is.

Not this guy though, this guy just stole the magazine.

TIME says it's because of the growth of MySpace and YouTube and blogs, that the collective individual has impacted society, culture and technology more than ever before.

I think it's because they're pussies.

We should have seen it coming. Their first cop-out was in 1969, when they chose 'Middle Americans' as the Man of The Year (they only changed it to 'Person' in 1999, the year scientists discovered the 'woman'). Then, in 1993, they pussed out again and chose the 'Peacemakers' - Mandela, de Klerk, Arafat and Rabin. Wow, those last two sure deserved it. That Middle East Peace Plan worked a treat.

Clinton's first threesome

But it was 2001 when TIME's complete lack of any genitalia became apparent, like when Matt got dacked at a school athletics carnival. By a girl with no hands. And... cystic fibrosis. (Also herpes)

Because in 2001, the year Osama Bin Laden masterminded the most catastrophic terrorist attack since the release of Pauly Shore's Biodome, TIME chose Rudy Giuliani as their Person Of The Year. Don't get me wrong, Rudy was awesome. He was a shining light of hope amidst the rising fog of darkness blah blah terror freedom blah. But you don't choose the guy who REACTED to the world-changing event. When Harry Truman blew the fuck out of Japan they didn't choose Emperor Hirohito, they chose Harry fucking Truman.

A picture of Harry fucking Truman Not a picture of Harry Truman fucking, which would have been difficult to obtain and would have required an awkward phone call to his estate

Since then, it's been girly-bike riding with a basket and a bell central. There were the corporate corruption Whistleblowers in 2002, the American Soldier in 2003, the Good Samaritans (Bono and The Gates) in 2005, and finally - 'You'.

It's BS. Do they even know who they're giving this award to? I mean... I have a blog. Technically, I received the award for writing about SIDE BOOB. Person Of The Year.... Side Boob.... Person Of The Year... Do you get where I'm going with this?

I love the people who made 'My Hands Are Bananas', but come on - Person Of The Year? If all Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad had to do was make a MySpace, maybe he wouldn't have threatened the world with a nuclear Middle East? Maybe good old Kim-Jong il could have just blended an iPod instead of becoming a nuclear despot! MAYBE YOUR STUPID AWARD IS SHIT TIME



please link to my blog still

Monday, December 18

The Great Movies You’re Not Watching (Unless You’re a Time-Travelling Bootlegger)

If Tommy can get a blog entry out of a few minutes of flicking through a TV guide and posting about random stuff he finds, you can be damn sure that’s a bandwagon I’m going to be jumping on. Now, back in the day, I used to be head entertainment reported for a high-powered Internet portal site. I’m not going to tell you which one, but rest assured, you would have been there before. My editor, Mr Quentin Bollix, quit over a feud with a publisher Charlie Tango and, because I was loyal to ‘Boll’, as we called him, I quit too. And I ended up here. Funny how life turns out, isn’t it? Funny how it just makes you want to hang yourself.

Q. Bollix as a young man.

Anyway, here we go, with a whole bunch of movies that haven’t come out yet that you really want to see because they’re totally going to rule and it will help you take your mind off the fact that you had a totally awesome writing career on the cards and then it all blew up in your face.

Isn’t it funny how, as we go along, we all become like Tommy in the end?

Anyway, read this stuff, and make sure you click on the titles to view trailers:

- 300 -

300 is a story about the last 300 Spartans in Sparta who totally kicked some ass at Thermopylae in like 400 B.C. It is based on a graphic novel by Frank Miller, just as Sin City was. In the tradition of Sin City, a lot of focus has gone into the visual style of the film but, where Sin City went comic-book, 300 is going ‘blow your load in your seat fucking awesome’ and seriously just overcranking the shit out of everything.

  • This fucking film will look gorgeous.
  • With actors they've chosen they've gone for ability over noteriety, so you won't know who the shit anyone is but you won't care.
  • Just watch the trailer and pretend this movie isn't going to be filled with 'fuck yeah' moments. Just try it, I dare you. I bet you can't.
  • Further, I am predicting the best psych-up-an-army speech since ‘never take our freedom’.

  • Another fucking big battle and old-timey combat movie. I mean, seriously, Hollywood, can we please just let this fucking fetish go? Yes, Lord of the Rings made a buttload of money, but this is very close the the thin edge of the wedge. But anyway, 300 is still going to rule.

    - Stranger Than Fiction -

    In this movie, Will Ferrell realises that a voice that only he can hear is narrating his life. When this voice tells him that he will shortly be meeting an untimely demise, he is suitably disturbed and goes to Dustin Hoffman for help. Hell, who wouldn't?

    Do you remember Will Ferrell? Remember how Anchorman made us laugh until selected internal organs began to liquify? Remember how that one Woody Allen comedy he made was completely a comedy apart from the fact that none of it was funny? This movie will be funny. Remember how you left Talladega Nights feeling vaguely insulted? This movie is like, the anti-Talladega. If anything, you're going to leave this movie feeling stupider. Pajiba wrote a way wicked review of this movie that's better than I can do, so read that.

  • Will Ferrell is normally a damn funny guy, as long as he's not working with a completely retarded script.
  • If the movie starts to suck I can just flashback to that episode of Family Guy where Peter got his own theme music and it will be pretty much the same thing.

  • Sometimes I like to laugh at Will Ferrell movies without thinking so much that blood drips out my ears.

    - The Simpsons Movie -

    The Simpsons has been going for eighteen fucking seasons. And it's about 10 seasons more than it ever should have gone for. This fucking show started when I was in kindergarten. It's nearly as old as I am. Lord knows everyone keeps telling me that I stopped being funny a while ago, I think it's the same for the Simpsons. But the Simpsons doesn't have sex appeal and a two-foot penis to compensate.

  • It's the Simpsons. I mean, I know that, somewhere, it has it in itself to be funny and original for an hour and a half, even if it hasn't been funny or original for a decade.
  • Think about it, if this movie can go back to basics for the Simpsons, it can be a triumphant return. Then maybe they'll stop the syndication and we can all remember the series fondly and my petition to Channel 10 to only do repeats of series 3-8 will be accepted and hot naked women will fall from the sky like rain.

  • If the movie spends more than eight minutes and eleven seconds on Marge and/or Lisa, it will be awful. This has been proven by science.
  • If this movie sucks, it will be the final nail in a huge freakin' coffin.

    - Grind House -

    Quentin Tarantino wants to make movies like the movies he grew up on. So he and Robert Rodriguez got together to make Planet Terror and Death Proof and, combined, they make Grind House. It's all tits, blood, violence, fucking and rock and roll. And I for one am looking forward to it. To quote Tarantino, 'I call them 'boner movies' cause they get you so excited'. Right on, brother.

  • Tits
  • Violence
  • Rock and Roll
  • Tits
  • Tits

  • In this movie Rose McGowan is a stripper and later they replace her leg with a fucking assault rifle. This is a con because by simply writing that sentence I may have blown an awesomeness fuse or two.
  • Unfortunately, there may be some shots in the film where there are no tits.

    - Hot Fuzz -

    Those funny fucks who brought you Shaun of the Dead are now moving from the zombie genre to the cop genre. I'm not sure if 'zombie' and 'cop' are actually classified as genres, but work with me here, OK? Anyway, if it's anything like Shaun of the Dead it's going to walk the line between parody and serious attempt by having some scenes there for laughs and some scenes that are just downright badass. And if it's anything like Shaun of the Dead it's going to make you laugh so hard in the cinema that people will get annoyed at you but won't say anything because you have such a weird-sounding laugh that they'll confuse you with a Downs Syndrome guy.

  • Looks funny.
  • Guns.

  • May have just been greenlit on the back of SotD, is the first movie from a comedy production group on the heels of a critically-successful movie. Read: may suck donkey balls.

    So there you go. That's my eleven-dollars-seventy on some up coming movies (it would normally have been 'my two cents' but take into consideration that I wrote a lot there, my time is worth significantly more than yours and also there's inflation and the recession we had to have etcetera) which I hope has taken your mind off your life for a while, given you a bit of excitement for some good films in your future and helped me get through an entire blog post without uploading a picture of something completely useless and unfunny.

    Dammit, better luck next time, I guess.
  • Sunday, December 17

    Voy Voy Voy, I'm Schmiggeggin

    AUSTRALIA'S first kosher pedestrian crossings will feature hi-tech detection sensors, allowing Orthodox Jews to cross busy Sydney streets safely during the Sabbath.

    Waverley and Woollahra councils are expected to install the devices at two intersections in Old South Head Rd at a cost of $19,800, after the Roads and Traffic Authority rejected a plan to re-program traffic lights.
    The RTA has offered to pay one-third of the total cost, however, with the two councils sharing the rest.

    Pressing a button on the Sabbath - the period of rest between sunset on Friday and sunset on Saturday - is considered a breach of religious law by Orthodox Jews.


    So... everyone's tax dollars (well.. my GST) is going towards funding street lights for some religious nutbars who think God is such an anal bastard that he won't allow them to slightly tap a metal button over in Woolahra and Waverly.

    Jesus sends the Jews out of the marketplace,
    after hearing they crossed when the red man was flashing

    Iis it not enough that I have to look at creepy mannequin Nativity scenes when I'm eating my lunch at the shops? Is it not enough that they blow up nightclubs in Bali? Is it not enough that the Jews run the world and start all the wars? Is it not enough that I have to waste the Foxtel remote battery flicking past the Christian channel every time I want to watch some fucking cartoons?! MUST THEY TAKE EVERYTHING?!!

    But man, these crossing light Jews.

    It's almost like they don't know the true meaning of Christmas.

    Friday, December 15

    Tommy's Guide To Your Future Ruler

    What will my readers find more boring than a blog about Aussie Politics? A blog about American Politics! Let's roll!

    It's only a few months away from the kick-off of the American Presidential Election season. The Democrats (the Party of Clinton, Gore and Lewinski) and the Republicans (the Party of Bush, Cheney and Vader) will both choose their candidate in two primaries, and then the big vote happens in November 2007. Considering we are, for the forseeable future, America's bitch, I thought it might be useful to look at the contenders, in a little piece I'm going to call....


    Our first candidate is Hillary Rodham Clinton. She keeps her maiden name because she totally got to where she was by her own merits. Totally not riding on the coat-tails/cigars of the coolest President ever.

    • Will get lots of votes from women whose husbands cheat on them
    • Married to Bill Clinton
    • Probably menopausal, meaning no tense moments at that time of the month with the nuclear launch codes handy
    • I'd hit it

    • 40% of the country despise her
    • Married to Bill Clinton
    • Has a vagina
    • Appears to be stuck to a chair

    Up next is the front runner for the Republican side, John McCain, who narrowly lost the Republican primary to George Bush in 2000.

    • Strong on national defense
    • Experienced, been in public service for decades
    • Was a former POW in Vietnam for five and a half years
    • Older than time itself
    • Has no neck
    • Hugs Bush funny
    And I'm never never never letting go :)

    Hilary's main rival for the Democratic nod is a young Senator from Illinois, Barack Obama. Obama gave an awesome speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention and has been touted as a future President since. He is also black.

    • An excellent orator
    • Black, but not too black
    • Looks and speaks like The Rock
    • His first name rhymes with 'Iraq', his last name rhymes with 'Osama' and his middle name is 'Hussein'
    • I'm serious, his middle name is Hussein
    • A third of the country can't pronounce President Barack Hussein Obama

    On the Republican side, McCain's main rival could be former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani.

    • Became 'America's Mayor' after his steadfast leadership following 9/11
    • Cleaned up New York City
    • Appeals to Democrats and moderates
    • Is pro-choice, pro-civil unions and pro-gun control, meaning he will struggle to win the Republican nomination due to isolating homophobes, religious nutbars and Charlton Heston
    • Married 3 times, had to get a court order to get back inside his house
    • This picture:
    Only one of them is wearing a wig, and it ain't Rudy

    As the former Vice-Presidential candidate to John Kerry in 04, Senator John Edwards is an automatic frontrunner.

    • Folksy Southern Charm
    • Smiles like a Kennedy
    • Has a young family
    • Is from North Carolina, home of 16-time World Heavyweight Champion Ric Flair

    • Speaks like Mr. Ed
    • Wife is a little frumpy
    • Ric Flair voted for the other guy

    Mitt Romney has a funny name. He's also the Governor of Massachussets, and a likely Republican candidate.

    • Governor of a Democratic state, has widespread appeal
    • Organised the successful 2002 Winter Olympics
    • Has a movie-star jawline

    • Is a Mormon
    • Is a Mormon
    • Is a Mormon

    And finally, the third-party candidate, Goat, from the Oats and Old Cans Party.

    • Appeals to voters in the Mid-West and Southern farming states
    • A prominent goats rights activist
    • Smarter than current President
    • As a recycled joke, helps limit Global Warming

    • None

    And there you have it. I think you know where my loyalties will lie come next year.

    God Bless America.