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About this blog:
This is the place for the real Mark Latham; the Mark Latham who toiled his clacker off in grinding poverty to become dux of his school; the Mark Latham who built his own ladder of opportunity, then scaled it himself with buggerall help from anybody else (er, except full-on legend and mentor Gough Whitlam - Dad, I love ya!); the Mark Latham who is mad as hell, and isn't gonna take it anymore - particularly from the Yanks and their pop-cultural, celluloid imperialism!
So, to all my readers from all over the joint: If you want to know the watered-down, official, media-friendly "Latham Lite" then watch me on the box, read about me in the press, go to the ALP website, etc. But if you want to know what I'm really thinking and feeling then keep coming back here, alright?
And please give a few bob if you can spare it. (It's for the ducks, not me.)
Chicks are forever hurling themselves at me (did you know Rachel Ward has a shrine to me in her bedroom?). But if you're not so lucky with the opposite sex, you might want to have a squizz at the sites below. For every sign-up, an orphaned duck finds a new home.
Here are some other sites you might want to have a perve at:
Lest any Tory bastard say that because I'm a socialist I'm entirely against earning a few extra bob, here's a link to the world's largest online classified ad service.
Below is a Seppo outfit. (But it's not bad, apparently.)
Click here to buy posters!
(You never know. They might even have one of me!)
Are you majorly shat off about something? Chockas with existential angst? Or do you just want to talk to someone you know cares big time? Then send your "Dear Mark" letter to: arselicker-kicker at loveable.com (Donations are not mandatory, but they are appreciated.)
 Web Hosting & Domain Registration |
Remember that duck guy I was telling you about? Yeah, well, he's asked me to put a list of traffic exchanges up on my blog.
The bloke's a bit of a dipstick, but considering all the good work he's done for my beaky brothers, I said yes.
Here they are:
Traffic Swarm
Web Biz Insider
Clicks Matrix
Traffic Project
Clickin' Fingers
Pro Hits Plus
Stock Traffic
Funny Farm Traffic
Hit Safari
Traffic Roundup
Weblog Directory - Directory of blogs from all around the world.
Click here to make money doing online surveys!
| Well I'll be! |
| 03.30.04 (11:36 pm) [edit] |
|
Hey, remember that taxi driver I so infamously tackled to retrieve my property a while back? I think the fucker's got his own blog! Have a perve. You'll see the bastard's got it in for me big time. |
| Ponce provokes puking |
| 03.25.04 (7:48 pm) [edit] |
|
Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the media there's Attila the Nancy Boy ready to jump up out of nowhere and give you a bloody mauling! I mean, goodness gracious me. Have a perve at his latest unprovoked attack. Fancy saying that my bonzer plan to get the troops back for Chrissie will put us in more danger? Clearly the opposite is the case. And he accuses me of trying to "scare up votes"! I mean, fair dinkum. Then he ends with this: Think pulling out of Iraq is all we need to do to placate such hatred, Mark? Think that showing such weakness to al-Qaida, and such disloyalty to our allies, really will make us safer? Are you really that stupid? How dare the little turd impugn my bloody integrity - not to mention mental acuity! But what about his motives and mental state? I reckon his News contract is about to cark, and he's just wedging his bets so as to out-grovel all the other dancing bears to nail a cozy post-hackdom gig in Canberra. So, Attila, I humbly ask you: Think that sucking up to the Arselicker will get you some cushy job as his foppish frilly-necked-shirt-weari ng PR Pomeranian - you yelpy, whelpy whiny wuss? Think that being even more of a suckhole to Bonsai than the Skanky Ho will guarantee you the gig? Are you really that much of a naive little stamp-collecting handkercheif-waving glockenpiel-playing fop? Yeah, you bloody well are, aren't you? Fuck but you shit me Attila. |
| Second thoughts... |
| 03.25.04 (6:58 pm) [edit] |
|
Upon re-appraisal of my last post, I have decided there was one part that was a tad ill-considered and requires correction: It was the bit about Senator Bishop being the only sheila immune to my charms. Judging by the way she eye-balled me in the corridor this morning, I do think Bronny really wants me, too! (PS: True Believer, methinks you doth protesteth too much. ) |
| I'm a lover, not a fighter |
| 03.24.04 (7:17 pm) [edit] |
Below, some commenter called "True Believer" wrote:Oh puleese. I hate to break it to you Mark, but amazing as it may seem to you, not everyone wants to have their way with you... Probably not even Rachel Ward. Sorry, TB, but I can't pay that one. Chicks just go spacko in my presence, let's face it. And Rachie-babe wants it baaaad. I know it might sound a tad arrogant to repeatedly interpet others' behaviour in psycho-sexual terms. But lately, I've come to realise the full extent of my erotic pulling power. And it's just plain bloody awesome, fair dinkum. I always was a legend with the sheilas. Now that I'm the LOP, even more so. That whole "power-is-the-ultimate-ap hrodisiac" syndrome is kicking in, big time. It's a dead cert that every chick in Oz except Bronwyn Bishop wants to play hide the sausage with me, fair dinkum. (Fuck, if it's this bad now, imagine what it'll be like when when I become PM! I'll have to get my own specially fortified vehicle made - kind of like the Pope-mobile - to protect me from all the crazed nymphos hurling themselves at me from the roadsides.) So, I think you can understand why I've really had to contemplate this whole "sex/power" paradigm. And it has had significant ramifications for how I frame Labor policy. (Carmen might say that it's a case of the "personal being political".) This is why I've made the firm decision to pull the troops out of Iraq as soon as possible. I'm a lover - not a fighter - after all. Of course, the Libs won't have a bar of it. The Arselicker and his conga line are completely out of touch with their erotic selves. They can only understand war and aggression and fuck-all else (the cunts)! So, it's up to me and other life-loving, babe-rooting socialists (like my fellow Don Juan in Spain) to stop this pointless "war on terror". Of course, tightarsed Tories will say that this is deserting the joint, and the problem will continue to grow. But that's crap. Let's face it, at the end of the day, not getting your dick wet is the cause of all violence in the world. This is especially so in the case of terrorism. (People talk about "root causes", but actually it's more of a "no-root" cause, isn't it?) When these shat-off chick-phobes see that we Aussies value rooting far more than shooting, they'll realise that they too are mightily out of touch with their sexuality. And when they finally shrug off their shag-shackles and go the tonk freely with their spunky doe-eyed babes, they will understand that all that jihad shit was just a big fat wank. Then - and only then - will there be peace in our time. |
| Ah, nature! |
| 03.19.04 (7:34 pm) [edit] |
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I tell you, it was tops being down there in Tassie, out in the Styx. Fresh air, trees... ducks! It was shit-hot and bloody bonzer, fair dinkum! Of course, Bob did quite a bit of Brown-nosing. But then I knew he wood. Wood, get it? Am I a funny prick or what! Now could the Arselicker crank out a pisser like that? No way. Yet another reason to vote Labor at the next election. But I digress... So Bob was really appreciative that I lobbed there. But when I stood by the current policy, I did expect him to crack the shits. But he didn't! Struck me as odd. Kind of confirmed my suspicions that maybe he has a crush on me. He kept talking about ring-bark, and looking at me funny. I kept thinking, is he being flirtatious? Anyway, while we wandered through the bush, perving at the unique flora and fauna, I made damn sure I never turned my back on him. You never know, he might have tried to play a little game of "drop the beetle" if you get my meaning. |
| Boobs maketh the man |
| 03.17.04 (2:36 am) [edit] |
|
Fair dinkum, these bloody hacks are a joke aren't they? They start off getting all appalled and offended at my "thuggish" and hyper-masculine ways. Now they're out to discredit me as some sort of flabby wuss. It's "man-boob" mania out there in Hack Land, I tell you. They just don't know what to make of me, do they? One reader, facetiously signing off as "Pamela Anderson" (possibly the Mad Monk in cyber-drag) refers to them below, asking if they are "another concession to the Sisterhood of St Lawrence". Clearly, he (or she, or fucking it) was being facetious - but ironically was actually onto something. See, I do suspect that some of Carmen's constant attempts at attitudinal reconstruction have rubbed off a tad. Her continual, coruscating comments about the prevalence of the patriarchy in our society have really awoken me to the plight of sheilas en masse. I don't just feel their pain. I feel their boobs, too! And this strong empathetic feeling has kind of manifested in the development of said bloke-norks. You know, it's like in that film Tootsie. The Dustin Hoffman character whops on a skirt then gets ogled and goosed and stuff. And rather than being lessened as a man, he actually grows and develops emotionally. Yeah, well, it's kind of like that. (Except I'd never don a dress and I'm not a Yank, of course. Plus I can't act for shit.) So, you can say what you like about my man-boobs. I'm damn proud of the little bastards! It's just more evidence that I am a "man in full". The Arselicker, on the other hand, is petrified of expressing his more nurturing, feminine side. Turgid with phallocentric disdain for women, he feels the need to control their behaviour with his sexist, antiquated policies. Just goes to show what we Labor men have known all along: the bloke is a right tit. |
| Ponce of Darkness |
| 03.15.04 (5:56 pm) [edit] |
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Regular readers would have noticed that my blog has been inaccessible for the last day or so. (I know it would have shat you off. Imagine how I felt?) Thank fuck the problem has been remedied and I can post again. But the question remains: why the server problem? I reckon Lucifer had something to do with it. See, he was posting over at Mouse Headquarters for a while. But then he stopped. Why? I'll tell you why: He's been poking his pitchfork into the tBlog servers, just to annoy me. He's also been offering his services to the Arselicker, whose tactics have become more devious than ever. I reckon he's also requisitoned the soul of Champagne Charlie Costello, who was clearly always a Wicked One wannabe and would have jumped at the chance to become possessed. But it doesn't appear to have borne fruit. The bonzer people of this pearler of a nation won't have a bloody bar of it! I could say, "Get thee behind me Satan!" But there's no need. He is already. Hey Sulphur Boy! You want to (dark) lord it over humanity? You'll have to do better than this. Wuss. |
| New Oz blog |
| 03.12.04 (6:55 pm) [edit] |
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Just heard on the grapevine about a new political blog discussing the goings-on up in the Northern Territory. It's here if you want to have a squizz. By the way, if any Territorians are reading this, say g'day to Claire Martin next time you see her, would you? I've always had a bit of a soft spot for her. She's no Rachel Ward, but she's still a top sort, that's for sure. |
| Affiliate links |
| 03.12.04 (6:40 pm) [edit] |
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Below left you'll see a few new links. I have wrested with my socialist conscience about putting these up. And I know that Carmen and Community won't be too happy about them. But I figure, why not? It's for a good cause (orphaned ducks). And I have sussed these joints out. They are dinkum. Plus, we socialists do have to move with the times and embrace globalism, don't we? Still, I am a bit worried about what Carmen will think about them (particularly the dating sites). Just on that subject: Remember what I said about offending her recently, and how there might be some political fallout for me? Yeah, well there was, in my "flip-flop" over the male teacher issue. Most people think it was due to the chalkies' unions and the anti-discrimination crowd having a few words in my ear. But they were all for going with the Arselicker's proposal for amendments to the act - as was yours truly! Hell, we can't stand the Libs, but we're not so bloody proud that we won't compromise occasionally. The real reason for the about-face? It was Carmen and Jenny Mackas who turned them - and consequently, me - around. See, they were still seething from my "lookist" faux pas-es of not so long ago (scroll down for details). So, this was their revenge. ("Retribution", they called it.) Considering the way the Arselicker and his dancing bears in the media have been carrying on about it, you'd never guess what the real story was now would you? The truth - it's a bastard to find, isn't it? (You can always get it here, but.) |
| And another thing! |
| 03.08.04 (6:09 pm) [edit] |
|
The verminous Vikki really shat me with her Lucifer link. So I feel the need to warn the little bunny: Darling, if you continue with your hair-splitting, I might be forced to reply with some hare-splitting, if you get my meaning. See, though my ties to the union movement aren't all that strong, I do still have some favours owed to me by the odd truckie headkicker. Well may you say, "Kiss my ass!" Because I may soon be saying, "Kiss my ass-phalt!" Are we clear on this now, Vikki? |
| Nit-picking nancy girl |
| 03.08.04 (5:27 pm) [edit] |
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"We didn't say you were in league with Satan. Satan said you were in league with Satan." And I thought the Arselicker was a pedantic prick! Oh, alright. So Satan said I was in league with Satan. Are you happy now Vikki? In any case, I strenuously deny the charges. Satan's never been within cooee of my soul. (And he's not going to, either. He can try if he likes, but I'll floor the bastard in a second.) I mean, have a look at the skinny prick (on the left of the page). Been nudging the turps a tad too often, haven't you Dark One? Way past your Mediaeval prime, that's for sure. Looks like your tail's got brewer's droop! Even bloody Malcolm Turnbull could deck you with one of his silk handkerchiefs, I reckon. (Oh, but that would never happen of course. I forgot: he's one of your best mates, isn't he?) Fucking Tory wuss. |
| Playing it cool |
| 03.08.04 (4:48 pm) [edit] |
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You know, when the ACNielsen poll came out, I did think that maybe it wasn't such an accurate reflection of the bloody Zeitgeist re yours truly. But the Newspoll shows the same result. So it's a lay-down fucking misere (excuse the French) that the Arselicker is now toast. Still, I'm not crowing about it, as you'll see here. "Softly, softly, catchy monkey," as they say. So that's what I'm doing. Playing it cool. Playing it cool to trap that chimp-featured little bum-sniffer. And when I've caught him, and The Gig is mine; then, I won't hold back. I'll tie him to a leash and club the fuck out of the little cunt. Fair dinkum, it's going to be hours of fun! |
| Vermin |
| 03.07.04 (5:11 pm) [edit] |
|
Does anyone have any Ratsac? I'll give it to this Rat Pack. I mean, bloody hell. Now they're saying I'm in league with Satan! Typical Tories. Always demonising us good folk on the Left. |
| Conga line in disarray |
| 03.07.04 (4:49 pm) [edit] |
|
I knew my poll results had really rattled the Arselicker. As had the obvious fact that I'm young enough to be his son, and the inevitable Champagne Charlie challenge to his position. Here's confirmation. Touchy or what? And have a look at this bit: "That is how I feel and that is how I intend to act and (Opposition Leader) Mark Latham and anybody else under the sun can say whatever they like, I'm not changing." Why bring me into the debate, Arselicker? This is about your party, not mine. Seems I've touched a raw nerve, haven't I, Arselicker. Eh? Eh? And here's Slow-Joe trying to make out that everything's hunky-dory in the conga line. "Now that (opposition leader Mark) Latham is enjoying a bit of a honeymoon, they're turning on us and they're saying there's tensions and there's no tensions at all," Mr Hockey told the Seven Network. [i]Oooh, yeah.[/i] And wombats will fly out of my freckle! The porky plonker continues: "Peter Costello has been using the same words for the last few years, exactly the same words. If he changes the words now, people will start to forensically go through the differences in the words that he uses and suggest that he's making a leadership challenge which he isn't." Words, words, words from turds, turds, turds. Speaking of which, I reckon Slow-Joe will be eating his words pretty soon when the conga line kicks out the old turd for one a tad less desiccated. But I don't think he'll mind. He's eaten just about everything else within reach anyway, hasn't he - the triple-chinned, rolly-poly, wobble-bottomed, glutton-guts! |
| I just can't work them out! |
| 03.06.04 (9:35 pm) [edit] |
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Fair dinkum, I don't want to sound sexist or anything, but what is it with these sheilas? I mean, Carmen's just been on the blower, having a go at me for my last couple of posts. She said she found one of them "very offensive indeed". In fact, she called it "an act of violence against women"! Assuming she meant the one about Kay Patterson, I said I'd consider deleting it, just to make Carmen feel better. But fuck me, she said it wasn't that one. It was the one about Michelle Grattan that really upset her! "How dare you mock such a capable and empowered woman with your loathsome innuendo!" she huffed. So, Carmen reckons threatening to punch a chick's lights out is not as bad as joking that she wants to go the tonk with a Tory hack? Bloody hell. Knowing what Carmen's like, she'll be telling all the other Labor sheilas about this as I write. They'll be looking daggers at me for the next few days for sure. Well, all I can say is: Thank fuck this babe still wants to shag me! Otherwise I'd be feeling very bloody morose. Indeed. |
| Attila the Nancy Boy spits the dummy |
| 03.06.04 (7:45 pm) [edit] |
|
Recently I sussed correctly that both the Arselicker and Dubya are both utterly obsessed with Rachel Ward, and so are majorly shat off (to say the fucking least!) with her public displays of affection for me. But now I've discovered that a much less powerful - but just as bloody annoying - little suckhole is also carrying a torch for her. Cop an optic of this tawdry little spray. It's got jealousy written all over it! Hey Attila, don't feel too bad about it. I hear you've got at least one female admirer aside from your mum. Apparently Michelle Grattan has had a crush on you for ages. |
| Hackneyed phrases |
| 03.06.04 (5:46 pm) [edit] |
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Fair dinkum, how often do your hear these bloody Tories use cliched bloody phrases in their insults! One of their favourites is "policy-free zone". Fuck, If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one! The latest suckhole to use it is Kay Patterson. Keep that up darling and your mouth will be a tooth-free zone. Cow. |
| Beyond a joke |
| 03.05.04 (12:46 am) [edit] |
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Look, there's no one who likes a laugh more than me. And I'm all for having a cack at my own expense - unlike the po-faced mob I see across the floor everyday. But this endless mockery is really starting to shit me. Have a look here. The upcoming Mardi Gras will include a float featuring yours truly. Mr Howard, making his second Mardi Gras "guest appearance", will be joined by federal Opposition Leader Mark Latham, who is making his debut alongside an entourage of cab drivers. Fuck. I'm being parodied alongside the Arselicker! That's worse than having the piss taken alone. And anyway, don't these poofs know I'm on their side? |
| Bloody hacks |
| 03.04.04 (6:48 pm) [edit] |
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Hey, you know how I'm always saying hacks are cockheads? Here's some more evidence, from one of Rupert's roosters: Oh my! You seem to have flogged the old avian analogy there, haven't you son! Bloody hack. And they reckon I've got birds on the brain! Speaking of which: Couple of days back cyberspace poseur Tim Blair quoted me as saying "I first did it at a mate's place in inner Sydney". Then he added: "He’s sounding more like his blog every day." What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I guess from the sneering tone that I was being a tad too bloody forthright for him and his ponce-arian peers. All I can suggest is that if he found it all too bloody offensive, he should regain his delicate sensibilites with some handkerchief-waving lessons from his poncy pal Malcolm Turnbull. The fact is, I was being extra fucking discreet about that particular event. See, I ommitted to mention that the chick in question was actually my mate's girlfriend. I know, it's a pretty un-Australian thing to have done. Still, though the bloke was a true believer at the time, he subsequently lost his marbles and became a Tory. So I don't feel too bad about it now. |
| I'm winning - or am I? |
| 03.02.04 (10:48 pm) [edit] |
|
Fair dinkum, this gig is really doing my head in. Like, today during Question Time, Champagne Charlie had a go at me, mistakenly calling me the "Member for Werriwa" instead of "Leader of the Opposition". Part of me was ready to deck him. But part of me also appreciated his little slip of the tongue. (In fact, it almost made me warm to the little turd. How's that for weird?) Like, when I was just the MFW, I really knew who I was, you know? I could speak my mind, not hold back. But now, as the LOP, I have to bite my tongue every few minutes; try and be reasonable and tactful all the bloody time. Fuck, but do I long for the good old days! Makes me think of the Bard and all his stuff about "to thine own self be true" and "all the world's a stage". He might have been a nancy boy in a frilly necked shirt but he really fucking nailed it, didn't he? Which brings me to the ACNielsen polls: Sure, I'm currently kicking the Arselicker's ring big time. But I'm not that chuffed to be honest. I mean, is it actually me that's doing it? |
| Appropriate bloody surname |
| 03.01.04 (7:31 pm) [edit] |
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Fair dinkum, what a rooster this Malcolm Turnbull character is. Here he is saying that he had it rough as a sprog - even rougher than yours truly. Lying ponce. Which is exactly why his surname is so appropriate, because he's always turning out bullshit. I mean, look at this bit: "I know what a single parent family's like. Assuming Malcolm Turnbull, the successful businessman, had a silver spoon in his mouth is just wrong." Yeah, well technically it was probably true. He actually had a gold spoon in his mouth. All his silver spoons - hundreds of them from all over the globe - were all lined up in neat rows right above the glockenspiel! Pompous little fop. |