
Yeah and verily did the latest chunks of cooked audio come squelching out of Ballarat; hear now as we swing in to the dark days of What The Fuck and Everything's Changed again. Stock markets be buggered - what about that poor bloke in Geelong who got the tattoo for Premiers 2008?
OK, what about the fuckoff cyclone about to
bear down on the other side of Mexico - (the other side from the major gathering of whitefolk in Texas, New Orleans etc, it's not news...)
So, the show. Lenny on ace of spades. Mick Dog on bums. Vinnie on buttons and DB on the tin lid. The Show With No Name throttled out of the Clunes O'Brien Memorial studios just before the shit went down on Wall Street and beamed it around Western Victoria (or as far as Mr Poon's shop, we're not sure) and it sounded like this: