Word-whore. I write 'em. I talk 'em. Information, politics, media, and the cybers. I drink. I use bad words. All publication is a political act. All communication is propaganda. All art is pornography. All business is personal. All hail Eris! Vive les poissons rouges sauvages!
The summer series of The 9pm Edict kicks off today with our special guest, the wonderful Andrew P Street — journalist, commentator, raconteur, and bearded person.
Continue reading “The 9pm Urine Therapy for Parental Productivity with bearded fellow Andrew P Street”
We wrap up the Spring Series 2021 — finally — by solving most of the world’s mysteries with journalist and all-round raconteur Andrew P Street.
Continue reading “The 9pm Billionaire Gummi Worms of Spicy Freedom with Andrew P Street”Today’s guest in the End of Spring Series 2020 is the wonderful Andrew P Street — author, columnist, journalist, voice-person, and renown mink-canceller.
Continue reading “The 9pm Freedom Wine Zombie Mink War Crime with Andrew P Street”Julie… Julie Bishop, they just don’t appreciate you. I know they make fun of you on Facebook. But I think you’re a neo-con sex kitten.
And you know, when I linked to Samantha Fox singing Touch Me last week, that was just to make a joke about Andrew P Street. That was just me trying to be clever. I realise now that was so immature. Andrew means nothing to me. I’ve realised the truth — you’re as sexy as Samantha Fox ever was!
Julie… Julie Bishop, I don’t ever want anyone except you. Samantha Fox is just a cheap slut. Those lyrics… I can’t hear them now without thinking of you!
Like a tramp in the night
I was begging you
To treat my body like you wanted to
Those left-wing bastards at Crikey just make fun of you too. Unforgiveable! You have to meet George W Bush this week, you have to look your best, and they said:
New tie for Alexander Downer we expect! Julie Bishop combs her Safeway for the required 15 cans of Cedel.
Julie, they just don’t appreciate your beauty like I do. I know I write for Crikey sometimes but that doesn’t mean I share their narrow views.
Julie, will you be my neo-con sex kitten? Please?
Andrew P Street is a genius. I say that because (a) he is, (b) knowing Andrew is one of the three vital components for understanding the full subtlety of this week’s poll, and (c) I dare not upset him by failing to acknowledge his enormous throbbing brain.
Last night ’Pong and I went to the Excelsior Hotel in Glebe. Their website is slick and glossy — but the web designer has clearly never set foot in the establishment because the Excelsior is what we in the business call a “dive”. Or, as the Macquarie Dictionary puts it, “a disreputable place, as for drinking, gambling, etc.”
I wish to report that the Excelsior is well-equipped for drinking, and we made ample use of its facilities.
Andrew P Street is, I believe, also well-equipped for drinking, being in possession of hands, mouth, gullet etc. He also has a guitar, and his mouth is so arranged that red wine may flow inwards while, at other moments, song flows outwards.
