One Nation fell further into the deep fryer, we’ve had a spate of overindulgence on hate pie and the emergence of Canberra’s own caped crusader. But who could it possibly be?
Well bugger me with a fish fork, it’s Thursday. Huzzah. The world kept dying while you were recharging, which featured an argument at the estimates, Taiwan saying yes to gay marriage and an unholy clusterboink on ABC2.
Well, what a night it was. New facts came to light from Manchester, the great Roger Moore left us, and Donald Trump won more friends. Today is a bad day. Soz.
According to NBC News, the Manchester attack may have been a suicide bomber. With the facts now becoming very familiar, our reaction to this news is what matters most.
Here we go again. Trump spoke (well) in Saudi Arabia, the last drops of the Premier League season were shaken out of the bottle and a string of emoji earned a couple an appearance in court. Bring on the comet.
Trump’s not happy, the music world was punched in the black hole sun and there was some good news for Julian Assange.
As someone who is striking to save the services we provide, I don’t understand today’s hate toward bus drivers. We’re not the problem.
The issue surrounding the Gaza strip is one of difference. Alongside the documentary Eyeless in Gaza, we’ve asked both sides of the political fence for their opinion, in the name of greater education.
The first steps of impeachment were walked by a soul singer, the first steps of Manning’s freedom by Converse and a red ant became a black sheep. Go back to sleep, trust me.
This morning…is not my type of morning. Donald Trump gave us the reasons he abused our trust, we fell apart over a Bunnings sausage and Avril Lavigne became the sixth Beatle from beyond the grave. Kill me.
According to The Washington Post, Trump has leaked sensitive material to the Russians, but our reaction to it makes me believe that we’ve learned nothing from history.
Monday. Think of it this way: soon you’ll be dead, and there’ll be no more morning angst. Solved! Macron. Trump. The Soviet Union. Yes, them again.
It’s not just any Sunday. Today we celebrate the mothers out there, with the news that the Trump snake is eating itself, the coalition has delivered a leftist budget and a chicken-flavoured romance novel for Mumsie. Why not?
The full moon has crested over the Trump administration, Alan Joyce will press charges against pie tit and Linkin Park has torn down their legacy. And yes, you should call in sick.
Both Sam Dastyari’s viral property video and the Coalition’s moves in the budget are off the mark. However, Millennials can still enter the housing market.
Just like Uncle Darryl prying open the liquor cabinet at Chrimbo, we got into the silly juice and insulted everyone after the Coalition made its seasonal speech.
What a night. Our heads were swimming with the romance of possibilities, and some of us did some things we didn’t want to do. So, who got the most out of the budget?
The results of the French and Dutch elections have reduced Britain’s bargaining power post-Brexit. The only way to bargain her way out of it and secure decent terms is through unhinged unity.
Macron’s win is seen as a victory for democracy and the greater good. Unfortunately, our tone is closer to the invading force of puppets trumpeting virtue. And Matt Daaaaamon.
It’s Monday. Hoorah. While you were dredging your subconscious, France settled on Emmanuel Macron, the A-League was finalised, and the Internet ganged up on Piers Morgan. Pretty standard.
It was a very special week in Current Affairs Land, as domestic and international issues melded into one clusterboink that we’d all rather forget. That, plus Eminem!