The Question Is: To Left Or Not To Left? 
"Wrong turn, buddy"
Oh my goodyness ladies and gentlemenses, looks like-ah we have another round, huzzaaaaah! So there I was running a political campaign, extoling the virtues of racial superiority. I wasn't fighting for black, nor white - I was fighting for pink, and The Pink Panther was my mascot. The blacks boasted they could rap, the whites boasted they could play golf, but I told 'em all that when you're like Pink Panther, you can rap
while playing golf: "Go, go, go shawtay! We gon' sip bacardi like it's your golf course". [Lyrics courtesy of "48 Cent" - the poor man's "50 Cent", after adjustment for inflation]. It really ticks off the geezer who holds up the "silence please" sign but boy do the honeys dig it!
Now give it right up for Maaaatt "Tha Politikah" Druuuudge! [And the crowd goes: he's a mad hustlah!] When he's not "chronicalling the constant whining and kicking in the ideological teeth of the anti-fascist left", he can be found spittin' some mad rhymes at a golf course near you. Show him some looooove!
[
WARNING: This blog may or may not offend depending on how much coffee you've had today. Read
this before taking a stance. Remember that neither me nor my pet rock shall be available for comment, though we will be giving autographs if you ask nicely]
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We Will Own Your Mind 
"Wanna piece-a-this?"
Ohmmmmmmm ladies and gents, we must once again sit cross-legged, meditating with one eye open, so we can descend into higher levels of senility. Today's meditation: psyops - the art of brainwashing your kids so they can be gentle when they choose your retirement home. More on that later. Now give it up for Looooord "Tha Psyop" Somberrrrr! [And the crowd goes: all hail his lordshipness!] Grandmaster of the art, keeper of the graphics, ruler of all that is ketchup and holy. You better show him some loooove!
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Trust Me, I'm An Engineer! 
"New spanner - now with 25% more, erm, span"
So the other day I was fixing my suprastitial intergalactic tachyon drive recombinator (this baby is 12 feet tall and makes the best darn ketchup in this quadrant of space). Suddenly this alien babe starts admiring my handyman skills (not to mention my boyish good looks, chiseled physique and potbelly). So I ask for her holophone communication frequencies (if you think you have a cool cell phone, you ain't seen nothing yet!), things were going well, but sadly she didn't breathe oxygen and that was the end of that. Now give it up for Yelloooo "Tha Engineer" JKT! [And the ladies go: hellooo Mr Engineer man]. When he's not fixing warp engines he can be found living life on the basis of harmless untruths. Show him looooove!
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Where's My USS Enterprise?! 
"Power to the bald, er, bold!"
Yeeee-haaaaaah! Ladies and gents, I am black, er, back, well, both! So without much further ado, let's get this show going. Taa-taran-tah-tahmmmm! In the red corner, weighing 5000 ketchup bottles, we have Jean-Luc "Tha Kapitan" Picaaaaaard [And the babes go: ooooh!, aaaaah!]. In the blue corner, weighing a gob-smacking, mayonaisse-emptying, eye-opening 60000 ketchup bottles, El Pasa Kick-Yo-Booty de Whoa-Mama! Dunno 'bout you folks, but I'd bet on Tha Kapitan, 'cause we all know the bald guy always wins. Hell, give it up for Tha Kapitan well in advance, as he negotiates matters of the federation with a Vulcan who just converted to ketchupism. Show that loooooove!
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Salutations Citizens Of Teh World! 
"We who are about to laugh, salute you!"
Rat-tat-tat-tat! Ladieeeeeeees and gentle bullets! It is highly recommended that you put on your ketchup-reinforced armor 'cause we'll be entering a war zone, yeeee-haaaaah! Unlike The Powers That Be, we peace-loving, tree-hugging, rock-cuddling peoples of the world prefer to make peace and not war. Thus, in a mind-bogglingly original maneuver, Teh Blogfather (blessed be his ketchup and mayonaisse), has decided to use a Scooby Snack eating contest to settle once and for all, who'll own that piece of land people are murdering each other over. The first person to fart (if you'll excuse the stark formality of that expression), loses. Huzzaaaaaaah! Now give it up for Concerneeeeed "Tha Iraqinator" In-Texaaaaas [And the crowd goes: howdy cowboy!] His zone is a news oriented place concerned with the war in Iraq and the Iraqi people. Show him some major loooove!
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Warning: Unsuitable For Children Under 92 
"Keeping the public well informed"
Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaaaw! Ladies and gents, it's been a while 'cause I had to travel, but I have a grenade in one hand and a Fanta in the other so lets get this show started! Now get naked, run around a fire and do the cha-cha-cha dance as we put our hands together for Chaaaaa "Tha Sarcasminator" Entertainmanatooooor [And the ladies go: ah-chaaaaa!, er, ah-choooo!].
Cha is a self-professed "consultant to the minions of satan" and he can be found counselling little devils who've lost their evil laugh, selling them mineral water at a premium (I've heard it's hot down there!) and my favourite: selling Prada horse shoes to our hooven friends (pedicures are free on X-mas). Now that ladies and gents, is business the way it should be. Show him lots of loooooove!
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Oh deary deary me! This round has been running for way too long 'cause I have been all over the place with time...ermmmmm, oooops?...I am ending it early and moving the remaining people to the next round so we can freshen things up. Don't turn off your screens because there's more maphia madness coming up!
