by Ross Sharp

Mark Latham used to be a politician. Of sorts.

He briefly served as leader of a political party. For 13 months. The shortest tenure of any federal Labor leader since 1916, and left politics in January 2005, having never held ministerial office.

Having achieved nothing in his career for the benefit of anyone other than himself, the point of Mark Latham has never been particularly clear, although he did succeed in garnering some attention in media at the time and from the public by calling all manner of people a variety of names including “arseholes”, “roosters” and other colourful epithets, and described himself as a “hater” which he has since gone on to prove himself to be with spectacular success.

Mark Latham appears to be a man who has never met a person he hasn’t taken an instant dislike to, mostly, it seems, because they’re not Mark Latham, proving without doubt that his head is stuck so far up his own arse with an inflated sense of self-importance that it is a miracle his navel does not flap whenever he draws breath.

Mark Latham once suffered from testicular cancer, and survived to go on to breed some children with his partner, which some may consider to be quite unfortunate, for, if his children turn out anything like their father, beating them to death with a hammer may become the only means of ridding the planet of his bloodline.

In recent years, Mark Latham has drawn attention to himself by criticising women he does not like (which seems to be all of them), including journalists Anne Summers, Leigh Sales, Lisa Pryor, Mia Freedman and Annabel Crabb.

He has been particularly vitriolic toward 2015’s Australian of the Year, Rosie Batty, whose son was violently murdered by her former husband in a public place, and who has ever since worked tirelessly to highlight the scourge of domestic violence and violence against women in general across Australia, to the acclaim and appreciation of pretty much everyone except Mark Latham, who has recently dubbed Ms. Batty “part of a feminist group using domestic violence for political gain and a campaign “against all Australian men”, and that “domestic violence is a tool of the feminist left”.

Mark Latham seems to be under the impression that Australian women (all of them) would like nothing better than to bite the cocks off Australian men (all of them) with steel dentures, and feed them to the family pet, because … well, patriarchy and feminism and matriarchy and Mark Latham.

Mark Latham thinks “political correctness” has gone “mad” in Australia, and would like the freedom to use words like “nigger”, and “whore”, and “kike” and “spic” in everyday conversation without criticism, because … well, Mark Latham.

Mark Latham is a cunt.

A 54 year old, pudding-faced, man-boobed, addle-brained, leg-humping, staggeringly unsuccessful ex-politician who will be sucking on the public teat for the rest of his miserable life.

At our expense.

Mark Latham has now been afforded his very own radio program on a commercial network where, for a period of time, he can earn some extra money by planting his sagging arse on a stool and barking into a microphone at people, telling them how and what they should think on things.

They should think like Mark Latham.

Which is not much.

For these, and many other reasons too numerous to list here, this is why I believe Mark Latham should be beaten to death with a hammer*.

After which, we can invite all the people he has offended and aggravated over the last few years to piss on his twitching corpse.

Also, it would be fun.

I hereby pronounce this day from hereon in to be national “MARK LATHAM IS AN IRRELEVANT FAT CUNT DAY”.

Please celebrate as you see fit.


*Not to be taken literally. It’s illegal.