The State election looms, Vote for Uncle-Daddy and his sort of crap!

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Choice!

They all still have to play footsie with their bankers who talk to their bankers, who then, finally, talk to the Banksters.

Am I repeating myself?

This is why I prefer the untrammeled mental pastures of Uncle-Daddy!

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As Uncle-Daddy tries to find parking….

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Uncle-daddy, realizing that the election could be stolen and sold on the international black-market as a table ornament, rushes to the aid of democracy and takes a call from Alannah at the same time!

What a hero!

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I’m sure we’re all looking forward to being let down all over again.

But this time we can blame Uncle-Daddy. He likes the heat!

Horserotovator has glued himself to a fine piece of time.

….and today being the day after the election we now know the outcome……

I wish them all the good luck and good will I can muster while I wrestle with my own horses….!

Horserotovator has done the numbers and can say they all add up to the last six digits of pi.

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The hidden Paradise in Cockburn Sound.

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Can you ‘sense’ Col marching up and down the street with the leaders of Daesh demanding the heads of his opponents?….. I can. I have my reasons….They would love to have me live my meager life in fear… They can go fuck themselves!

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Horserotovator has driven himself off-planet in an inarticulate expulsion of badly thought-out parallels with political events that, although not actually logically correct, will eventually be as real in the imaginations of the people as the yearning for a Big Mac and fries!

I, as an extension of God’s imagination, will now spend an extremely uncomfortable time attempting re-entry while trying not to spill the complementary sponge cake and piping hot ‘slopping’ syrup that they gave me at the check-out…..

“Oww!…..Fuck!……