Norm

Melbourne, Victoria, AUSTRALIA


Joined November 15th 2006

Number of Posts:
660

Number of Comments:
1413

Karma:
10



For every pair of pants there is both an opposite pair of garments that go on legs, are held up at the waist and fall to around the ankles, and an equal.

About me
I can blow smoke up yours as easily as have it blown up mine.
Things that get up my nose
Anything that is smelly.
Things that don't get up my nose
Posterity.
Favourite television shows
The ones that rate.
People I'd quite like to encounter
Geoffrey Lawson, Greg Matthews, Dean Jones, Dirk Wellham.
Favourite saying
I harbour you no ill-will.

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Recent Posts

The new vehicle, descried by executives as the latest in the ever-decreasing gap between desitiny and home, is descried by environmentalists as a car that shits all over anything else on the road.

Utilising cheap immigrant workers under the floor of the vehicle, where they live with their children and grandchildren, the Commoder wipes up after it's off.

"Australia is a notion of passengers," revealed one immigrant living and working under the bonnet.

The Commoder, with a being in every bonnet, faeces injected and fast like a fridge on rollerskits, is a must for eery Australians looking to announce their identity.

"It's not a symbol of why the world is fast going to shit the way that it is when all we want is more of the things that are sending the world to shit," said one silly sausage.

Pricks.




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what's that?

May 14th 2008 23:56
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The playboy, dirty old maniac, womens' lip-operationer and smacking jacket wearer told his mum that he only reads Newsweek for the naked self-interest.

Hef, unashamedly and unreservedly and unapologetically and unrepentantly informed, told his mater that he couldn't imagine a bunny with a name ending in Berg.

"There's no Hebrew word for breast augmentation," Hef crowed as he unveiled his new venture, Playkike.

"I'm bringing the beard back to the bearded clam," he said clasping his clammy ones together.

His mother, totally stuffed and off her rocker, found his stash under his bed as she was hunting rabbis and is believed to have bought his story.

"He could sell Ice to smack-heads," a rabbi told his meddling mother as he posed for the chimera.

Playkike will be on selves very shirtly.

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If my name was Petrarch and lawless, hide! Splay that arse-nut strewn! Then chided, have to except that! Mr. Football, or EJ foreshortening, sheltered the very same pistons as you. Yourself, weird like meat, worder, have to farce the fractures.

Mr. Fontbile, in is blogging doze, took to the fold in a keyhole post, either forewarned or black. Either or ether, token to the fuel and the context with a stately doubtful chiding, Mr F was an aspirin for the flutey notion: victory is hourly


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If Boccaccio could text, heed propellerly shave that Jezza. War snuff like himsalve toot, hand all the hat-tributes of house: wary, weary, warring, whacking, waning sleeve. For all fussed as he walls on the grind he was a tizzying hair artist.

When smurfs rail the earth, as they sharely wail, they will be gnome as the verily duffer pants to the crate mess of Jeeza. They lend him their years, pelt the gall low, below all laugher: the grind; nuffer do it on the sinstair side


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Know it well

May 12th 2008 00:45
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Bush Texas Wedding Spectacular

May 12th 2008 00:08
Held in the labyrinthial dungeons of the Whitehouse, US Presidenture George W. Bush married his daughter of twenty or so ears in a lavish musical conducted by the reanimated corpse of Nazi synthesizer Herbert Von Karajan.

"I was very happy to give away my daughter," Bush said under his breathmint


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Flea fowling and swarthily queazy, Buddy is, so unlark Big Nick. Some arch so, I'd gore eels; for as to stay: opposite - and twats wily saying some thank.

Four arses Big Nick looked like hehe did, Buddy winds like the wind and farts too: wandily. Apples on the ground and apples in the hair, it ills paradys


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In his die, DK yawned the hollowed turf of the hole of flatbile like phew! Verilysimilitudinally, Fev yawns the cheese in the slum, why? I send so, hat's all.

Wail, with his run, so undysimilar to that awful DK, and with a delivery, so nightlight that offal DK, Fev is, in my bumble op, the equal of staid faust brawler


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Touchy

May 10th 2008 02:24
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Recent Comments

Comment by Norm
on Hugh Hefner's mum discovers his Newsweek collection

May 15th 2008 00:11
Ruby, his rival Larry is initiating one for stalkers called Hassler. I subscribe to that.

Morgan, the only thing wrong with drugs is that they're illegal.

Comment by Norm
on Barton Fink: A Coen Brothers Masterpiece

May 13th 2008 22:35
I love this movie because I create!
I'm a creator!

Comment by Norm
on Growing Up without a Father: The Fatherbook

May 13th 2008 02:31
I'm thinking that it's just as bad for the daughters.
Just casting my mind over my experience with women who grew up without fathers at home.
On the plus side of growing up farterless, it leads us to foster our imaginative life.


Comment by Norm
on Bob Marley February 6, 1945 – May 11, 1981

May 12th 2008 01:09
I love listening to his records despite his record.

The police must have planted that cannabis on him.

How tragic my life has become. To be reduced to getting a hard-on when I shove the mail in the slot.
Niiiiiiiiiiiiice.
Nuns have PO Boxes?

Footyless and fancyfree.

Comment by Norm
on Norm: sorry for sorry sorry

May 9th 2008 01:27
If we could travel back in time, as I often tell myselves, the future would already be here.
The present is the past to the future.

The storm will piss and when it does, go back to basics.
Or, to put it in present terms, whatever!