I take my civic duties very seriously, which is why I carefully examine items like First Dog on the Moon's 2011: A Space Bandicoot calendar, scanning them for sentiments that are anti-Wallaby or otherwise harmful to society.
I acquired the First Dog calendar yesterday, and promptly began my review process. Sadly, I found objectionable materials almost immediately. I am greatly distressed that in this day and age, individuals are still given licence to publish and distribute this kind of content to the world at large.
Although providing an exhaustive list of the specific issues would be time-consuming and unhelpful, I will say that March's "dog bumming turtle" illustration is pure filth.
April's Stations of the Cross, as presented by the Potoroos of the Tamar Valley, is exactly the kind of Hostel-esque torture porn that the Pope warned us about.
And the bonus centrefold? Well, it required a special review session that had me retiring with it to the toilets to be certain that I could give it the kind of exacting scrutiny it deserved in suitable surroundings of contemplative silence.
Having carefully examined the calendar, I recommend that you buy two of them--one to burn immediately, one to burn after reading and condemning it, and quite possibly a third if your examination process is as rigorous as mine and some of the pages end up stuck together before you're finished.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting I must get to.
(For the record, my meeting is nowhere near the U.S. Embassy, and has nothing to do with the search for an informant to replace Mark Arbib. Any rumours to the contrary are COMPLETE RUBBISH.)
I acquired the First Dog calendar yesterday, and promptly began my review process. Sadly, I found objectionable materials almost immediately. I am greatly distressed that in this day and age, individuals are still given licence to publish and distribute this kind of content to the world at large.
Although providing an exhaustive list of the specific issues would be time-consuming and unhelpful, I will say that March's "dog bumming turtle" illustration is pure filth.
April's Stations of the Cross, as presented by the Potoroos of the Tamar Valley, is exactly the kind of Hostel-esque torture porn that the Pope warned us about.
And the bonus centrefold? Well, it required a special review session that had me retiring with it to the toilets to be certain that I could give it the kind of exacting scrutiny it deserved in suitable surroundings of contemplative silence.
Having carefully examined the calendar, I recommend that you buy two of them--one to burn immediately, one to burn after reading and condemning it, and quite possibly a third if your examination process is as rigorous as mine and some of the pages end up stuck together before you're finished.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting I must get to.
(For the record, my meeting is nowhere near the U.S. Embassy, and has nothing to do with the search for an informant to replace Mark Arbib. Any rumours to the contrary are COMPLETE RUBBISH.)
No comments:
Post a Comment