The Little Dano-Australian Prince

We are sick to death of the blubbering Prince Frederick of Denmark, his wife Mary (a former Australian) and their spawn. Mary has always really annoyed us, especially now that she speaks with that accent. She's been at us for months about having dinner with Bernard Fanning but we don't know Bernard Fanning so we can't help her. We thought they were friends seeing as he played at her wedding festivities in Copenhagen. And besides, even if we were friends with Bernard Fanning, we would not be introducing them because she is actually a creepy girl and he is so innocent (apparently).

We don't understand why Fred and Mary are going on about raising the child themselves, beginning with him sleeping one metre from their bed, when most parents we know would be going: "you live live in a bloody palace, you've got heaps o' cash and servants, get a nanny and give the kid his own room". Likewise we fail to comprehend the hysteria that has lead to widespread pyromania as Australians light bonfires all along our shores, apeing an ancient Danish ritual. Our drought stricken land could easily erupt in flames and burn. We find this careless and anachronistic, if millions were to lose their homes and lives in bushfires we think the couple should accept some responsibility.

At this point we think it relevant to mention that Fred used to go out with Morgan Fairchild.

Smoking Is Good

Because of smoking we get more breaks at work.

Because of smoking we have reason to leave rooms with children in them.

Because of smoking people know we are cool, so we don't have to try.

Because of smoking we get to sit outside at restaurants.

Because of smoking we laughed so hard with Mick Jagger we forgot (for a nanosecond) that he was famous.

Because of smoking we had sex with a waste management entrepreneur.

Because of smoking we met Jack Elliott and he invited us to lunch at his penthouse and asked us not to wear underwear.

Smoking is good.