Nine Nipples

My regular readers will recall that some simple research by yours truly threw up the remarkable fact that Jacquelin - Chook's other name - means "The Supplanter."  My less regular readers would be well advised to eat several spinach leaves a day.  Works for me.  Anyway, where was I?  Ah yes.  I promised you I'd do some research to find out who exactly Chook had supplanted in Pea's heart.  Well, I interrogated Pea and it seems it was a "bitch" called Hannah.  Now this rather harsh term shocked me somewhat as Pea is not usually prone to making such derogatory remarks about the opposite sex. (Apart from when they're phaffing about looking for their purse at the supermarket checkout.)  Indeed, he seems quite fond of them on the whole.  He certainly appears to tolerate Chook well enough.

Hannah, it seems, had big, soulful brown eyes, a gentle, loving nature and nine nipples.  My God! I thought.  And you dumped her for Chook?  You're more of a fruitcake than I thought pal!  But then he went on to say that she was a boxer, had a cold wet nose, bad breath, drooled a lot and used to shed hair everywhere.  Not sounding so attractive now is she? Then when he said she had to have her anal glands drained on a regular basis I could see how the relationship was doomed to failure once Chook appeared on the scene.  Shame though, I'd like to have met Hannah.  She sounds a lot of fun as long as you didn't have to share a bed with her.

The Brisbane Courier Mail is one of my favourite newspapers.  I find it thoroughly absorbent. In fact just this morning I was about to have a widdle when I noticed a familiar face staring up at me from my cage lining.  Former leader of One Nation Pauline Hanson! If having her staring at you when you're trying to wee doesn't put you off, nothing will.  Rumour has it that she migrated to the United Kingdom because there were too many foreigners in Australia.  It is also rumoured that she was about have her passport stamped at Heathrow Airport when she noticed that the gentleman behind the desk was somewhat more tanned than the average Englishman.  Not only that, but he was wearing a turban and a name badge that announced him to be Mr Singh.  She allegedly snatched her passport back, turned on her heel and reboarded the Qantas plane she'd arrived on twenty minutes previously, where she sat, refusing to leave even while the cleaners vacuumed around her feet.

Now she's back in Australia and contesting the New South Wales state election, hoping to win a seat in the upper house.  The Liberal party, currently in opposition, but probably not for long have said that if she gains a seat in parliament they will have nothing to do with her and her racially divisive politics. It hasn't stopped them endorsing another former senior member of One Nation - Chris Spence as their candidate for the seat of The Entrance though, so there's still hope for Pauline yet.  If she plays her cards right and the Liberals win government in New South Wales she might just be nominated for an OBE for services to racial intolerance.

Who's fault is all this?  The good old Labor party, especially the delightfully incompetent former Premier Maurice Dilemma or whatever his name was.  Pea reckons it can't be down to the current Premier, Kristina Keneally - she's far too sexy.  Anyway, I hear you ask.  What's all this got to do with a guinea pig?  Well, nothing really, except I have never enjoyed a wee so much in my life.