12 August 2013

Emergency Priest.

Because what have emergency workers ever done that's any good, really?

With the help of a ridiculously lame and credulous piece of sensationalist non-journalism on the Ninemsn site, I'm about to let you in on a secret. 

Big Ambo is lying to you.

That's right. For all these years, taxpayer-funded emergency services have been leading you up the garden path, putting their staff through so-called "training" and "re-certification" and "trauma counselling" and other thinly-veiled scams. You don't need these alleged "expert" "professionals". When you get hit by a car, or a tree falls on you, or your hand gets caught in a lathe, or someone stabs a hole in your lung with a kitchen knife, or a blood clot causes a little bit of your heart or brain tissue to die, these "paramedics" will only pretend to help, without actually doing anything useful at all. 

According to the article (written by Sophie Cousins and approved by editor Matthew Henry, who should be so proud of earning money for fashioning a turd into a string of words), the people who really help save people's lives when they are critically injured are Magic Unimposing Praying Angel Priests!

So here's my message to you, you heartless, useless, scamming paramedic bastards:

Forget protocols and procedures,
And your training in primary care.
If I’m ever struck
By a fast-moving truck,
For God’s sake, just leave me right there.

I won’t need IV morphine or spine boards,
Put your jaws-of-life neatly away.
Go and make yourself tea
And forget about me –
‘Cause somebody will turn up and pray.

Yes, the power of prayer is amazing!
It can fuse a cracked femur or jaw.
Prayer is all that I need
When my lungs start to bleed
And my head trauma gets a bit sore.

I’ll just wait for a man in a cassock;
By the time I pass out, he’ll be here.
He’ll use mumblings divine
To make everything fine
And then virtuously disappear.


  1. Anonymous10:32 am

    I miss you. It's been weeks.
    Need my Shellity rhyming fix!

  2. Anonymous2:15 pm

    Shelly, this isn't funny anymore. I need you to make sense of the Senate.

    In couplets.

    Dammit, you have a following that you need to attend to!

    PS I hope everything is OK.

    1. Oh Anonymous, you're sweet.

      Nothing would make me happier than to fill my time with idle rhyming. But I have a metric crapload of paid work on at the moment, which is awesome, but something's gotta give and it's this (for the time being).

      Would it make you feel any better if, every time something pops up that would make the *perfect* verse, I kick myself in the shins? Happy to.

      You've made me feel warm and fluffy though, for which I thank you.