Read my New ONLINE ROBBLOG at BLOGSPOT.COM CLICK on PICTURE www.robreidonline.blogspot.com Note: Rob Reid Online content may contain subjects suitable for grown-ups only!

**Special to Swisssh**  Swisssh Political Columnist  Bert GoodDamn- Bertha's Hubbie.  Threats are like Stiff Carrots... For bum whistling sake! I think God's son Jesus must be getting close to flying on down here to earth and putting the forces of evil in its place on the Plains of Armageddon. The biggest battle of all is shaping up as we step up to home plate in the final ballgame of life on earth. That's Earth as we know it. How do I know these things to be true? Well not from watching that goddamn Eh Channel that's for rat's ass sure. We got trouble here. Our Beaver Tails should be flapping to beat the band but they ain't even twitching. Look, we got a rag-tag bunch in Ottawa that's trying to change our democratic country into Mother Russia or North Korea. Do you speak Russian or Korean? Didn't think so. Ya- take that as a threat! Are you all listening or could you all just care less, roll over and burp? Next, we got this fellow Iggy. I like the guy. I really do. Got the bluest eyes I ever did see when you stand nose to nose with him. Reminds me of the time years ago when I was an altar boy and this young priest Father Fitzdickens showed me how to rub his incense burner… Well enough about me. This Guy Iggy should be sitting up there in Ottawa on the right hand of the “Speaker of the House” Almighty. But where in the hell is he? Why he's riding a bus to Bushwacker Corners, showing the lady folk how tight his rump looks in a pair of 409's. When I myself saw him climbing back into that bus, those blue jeans were so tight I could see the Queen's eyes squinting on the twenty, right through that denim. Look. Just get your fingers out of your arses and put an `X” beside the guy's name- or whoever the poor sap is running in your area. Anyway, we should be marking the spot with an “X” beside the MP that we want to be sitting in Ottawa not just the local candidate. That's another column for Jeremy Cripes sake! Then, in this Taranna they got this big, overweight, tractor-driver looking guy that should be spending his time swilling back beers at the Steelworkers Hall. But what's he doing? Running for Mayor and so far he's a few nose hairs ahead of that Smitherman guy. Now I'm not saying nothinghere but I sure as hell know that George's Husband was looking pretty damn forward to being the “First Lady” of Taranna and now that burr-headed butterball is gobbling up his dream. It's sad. Really sad. For Goodness sakes GT Eh, ers- that big guy is so far right he gets a nose bleed when he sees a sign that says “Left Turns Only”. Now closer to home we have a real barn-burner. We need to make a big change or else.Two of those liberalized fellows and a third who keeps drifting back and forth across the political line like a truck driver pleasuring himself in the middle of the afternoon while hauling a bunch of stiff carrots to Beeton. Maybe that 's a threat? Is that a stiff carrot in your truck or are you just happy to see me. You bet your bushel basket we need to change some things or we'll be dealing with more than a threat! You don't need me to say what we need in local political circles but we sure as hell could do with 7 or 8 less of the same that we have right now. People, get informed. Be informed. Stay informed and get ready for the final kick-ass battle of all things good, against all things right of centre. Now that might mean “earth's greatest evil” to some of you readers but you know, I believe if you invited old Satan for a beer and a hot dog in your backyard some afternoon, he'd turn out to be a pretty respectful guy who likes to let off a little hot air now and then and enjoys watching The Young and the Restless on television.

Just Another Day on Bleeker Avenue with Baby Jane & Blanche Just another Sunny Afternoon- with some high cloud, on Bleeker Avenue.  It's quarter past four. Wind is from the west and it's 19 degress. Tomorrow's outlook: Drizzle. * Jane Dear. Rub my feet will you? ~ Pardon the ^%$# what Blanche? ~puff~ puff~ * Oh Please Jane. I'll give you 40 dollars. ~ Not enough ~drag~ puff~ wheeze~ * Fifty… ~ I wouldn't lick a cat's arse for fifty! * Oh Jane, after all the nice things I've done for you recently. ~ Like what Sister Dear? ~puff~ * I helped you interview the Pool boys and told them the reason we didn't have a   pool is because we had to change contractors and there had been a delay. ~ What else? ~ cough~ puff~ drag~ * Let me think….Oh, I told that nice Mr. Silverberg you weren't at home when he   came to call and you didn't want to have coffee with him. ~ That's pretty good. He did have that old man stench about him. Probably the     Aqua Velva. * So, what do you say? ~ I'll do it for 75 bucks and you hafta make my afternoon martini every day for a     week AND let me see those nude pictures of Michael Buble you say you have. * Oh. Those. Well. I…(Think Blanche. Think…How the heck can I find a picture of    Buble nude. Guess I can always photoshop his head on George     Strombolopolous's body)….OK Jane Dear. It's a deal! ~ Give me a &^*%$#$% second. * Where are you off to Sister Dear? ~ To get my gas mask and rubber gloves. I ain't coming any closer to those      “doggies” than I havfta!

Palace Promulgations  by Dame Clare Voyant  The Winnie Returns Well, My Dears, we are back from a few weeks adventure in the good ole Winnie. We pulled through the Palace Gates a few days ago to cheers from a few Palace Staff who returned from their own “outing” only a day or so before. Of course, my best friend Hedda Lettuce and her secretary/companion Sofonda Cox came along with the Winnie to keep things “ship-shape”. We all had a marvelous time. We bought fresh fruit and veg at every roadside stand we passed. We ate corn on the cob until the cows came home. Don't you just love quaint country talk? I do my Dears. I really do! Roger, my Head Poolboy and his husband Xavier opted out of the “Wonderful World of the Winnie”, managing to slip away for a few days respite. They tell me they trotted off to the Big Smoke to see a few shows and dance the hot night away-stripped to the waist I'll wager, at some hot, dark, sweaty, pec-filled Homosexual Dance Establishment. Boys will be boys won't they My Dears- well won't they? So off we go approaching the autumnal equinox and all manner of fun fall fare. Oh My Dears I am not saying that warm nights and hot days are over- not so My Dears, I am just being a realist for as all good Madam Hags know “Pride Commeth before the Fall” and since My Darlings most Prides are over and done with it is just the rhythm of life that presses me onwards and fallwards. My Stars we'll be stuffing “old Tom's backside” before we know it, won't we? In the more immediate future I have asked Roger to set up a wee exercise programme for your Royal Dameness. You see too much partying and living the goodlife on the road in the Winnie has added as many inches to your Dame's backside as wrinkles on Bruce Stanton's furrowed brow.   Oh, I must tell you that Hedda Lettuce-my best girlfriend, and her secretary/companion Sofonda Cox hope to publish a calendar called “Country Meat” for the year 2011. Now My Dears, it's just not what you're thinking- it really isn't. You see My Dears, Hedda and Sofonda took photographs- with their new digital Brownie, of each and every “husky” farm lad we came across on our vacation. Now My Dears, to be perfectly honest, those two are quite a team when it comes to encouraging beefy farm boys to remove their tee shirts and in one remarkable, most memorable occasion a sturdy “market boy's” clothing-well within a shred-of moral decency. I mean My Dears. I really do…..well within a shred of total, almost moral decency. However, I have suggested they both enroll in a photography course before pursuing their 'calendar dreams'. I have asked the Dear editor to reprint this photo I have sent along with this article My Dears. A perky pair of pecs is worth a thousand words I suppose. If Hedda and Sofonda can ever take 12 good snaps, you might just see the calendar in your local Macs by the Holidays! Must be off my Dears. It is really quite amazing how thirsty one gets sitting at a dusty old typewriter. Think I'll grab a glass of something and scurry out Poolside. Roger should be starting the first of 200 laps just about now. Tah For Now!