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After starting the New Year with a bang, the Brian's continue on their quest to inform the loyal Earth millions of the trauma and tempest that will engulf them like a fat kid eating a cake.

Brian, in his wisdom and obvious likelihood that he really has brain damage discusses the reasons why Orstraylya has to be given the rights to hosting the Winter Olympics on the beautiful shores of Antarctica. Yes, that barren wasteland that Orstraylya owns. Arctic Pigeon racing and the Polar Koala Bear shooting will be incorporated into the other 1278 sports and stuff.

Brian mentions the Adriatic Ocean or was it Sea. He has no fucking idea and don't look it up, he's about as good at geography as Donald Trump is at telling the truth. Fucked, is the answer. It's Mr. McMurtrie's fault he claims. Fucker! Sorry, that's an in-house joke.

On a thoughtful note, Bevan was decapitated in a spoon bending experiment. Good, fuck him too.

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Brian, Brian, the other Brian and Barry return from The Vatican to establish the heads up for the coming year. After much discussion, opium and arm wrestling with Pope Moe, both Brian's conclude that 20mm Drainage Lead will be the go-to item at Mick O'Reilly's Sand, Cement, Pope Blessed Drainage Lead and Lead Kitty Litter requisites for years if not months ahead.

Brian talks at length about 3I Atlas docking at Lawnton Heights and the kerfuffle, wondrous sights and Olive Oil that flowed in, over and around Old Gympie Road and into the water catchment areas as well as the playgrounds. Just good solid healthy environmental stuff we all yearn for and stuff.

On a serious and eye catching note, Bevan gets hit in the eye with a New Year's Eve aborted rocket type item the Brian's were keeping for a special apocalyptic reason. Fuck him.

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On this intriguing Christmas edition of Why is my son a Gorilla, Brian and Brian reveal all of the truths and just a bit of made up stuff about Jesus. Yes, son of Dog, the all fearing and somewhat despondant chap who became the Messiah we all talk about this day just to receive gifts and maybe a free lunch.

With sleigh bells ringing and Santa's helpers, Jeremy, Leroy, Basil, Doug and Tyrone furiously assembling gifts for the kiddies of the world and Santa's Tobbacanist and Sleigh provider, Jimmy, of Sleighs are Us and Requisites tending to the needs of vagabonds worldwide, we capture the essence of what is a religious nonsense and other patronising ways.

Brian broaches the subject of a virgin birth, necrophilia, autism and incest in an interesting section that should see the Brian's either win a Nobel Peace Prize or be never heard of again. Get into it and vote now!!

On a touching note, Bevan mows Paddock 58 on Brian's property and decides to unclog a blockage while the mower's running. All good stuff, spirit and slashed arteries.

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Brian and Brian find good use for a stunned Rat on this week's heart-warming episode of the Herrings. Yes, Rats with mobility issues always rate well in the Cyberspace world and don't the Brian's milk it, literally for all its worth.

Speaking of the AI Atlas Celestial-a-tron, Brian speaks way too long and far beyond a reasonable grasp of the English language about dirt, gases, grit and gravel just to give Mick O'Reilly some cheap advertising. It's a fuckin menace and heads will roll. Or at least be ripped off and stuff.

Brian pinpoints the time and events that will go down in history when Anal Cream is the de rigeur item for all homosexuals about town.

In an inspiring section of tonight's Poo, Barry gets hit in the head with a Pick Handle. Jolly good fun and shit.

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This weeks episode has been cobbled together with thoughts, prayers and liquid gravel by Barry whilst he is in offshore detention. Unfortunately Barry has been scooped up in a "Homeless Clean Up" campaign introduced by Queenslands own political potato Adrian Christafoolish.

The government does not regard an old suitcase under a set of stairs an actual dwelling, although we do believe the local government will be renting out such spaces come the Brisbanuim Olympic Games in 2032 or whenever it is. Once the correct bribes are directed to the appropriate council members, Barry should be out of detention and back to work at Herring Headquarters where he is the backbone and anal passage of the editorial and saliva department.

On a more sombre note, it has been revealed by Doctor Dennis Dentist that Bevan's cancer has either gone into remission after 62% of his body was cut out or maybe he only had scabies in the first place. Either way he is doing well and we are putting his insurance money to good use on prostitutes, alcohol and whale blubber.

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As the AI Atlas 3000 hurtles through the Milky Way on a collision course with Billy Mumy and Captain Spock on the Goodship Lollypop, the Brian's discuss at breath the fascination of space travel and skin infections.

Brian ponders the new world order that is RFK and his magnificent brainial thing that keeps churning out words of wisdom in his velvet voice only a helicopter blade could understand.

Also, the Chinese have ventured into the world of skid marks and inter galactic fun with the new version of the Titanic. Great viewing for the kiddies and the mentally redundant.

On a serious and somewhat comforting note, Barry and Bevan re invent the wheel and get hit by a bus on Gympie Road. Fuckers.

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The race that startles a nation, The Melbourne Cup; will this year be hosted by Albo's BBQ Bonanza and Abattoir Requisites. Millions of dollars are gambled away this first Tuesday in November, but Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albuquerque will make sure all the kiddies of these degenerate gambling addicts will not go hungry.

All 257 horses running in this years race will be humanely massacred, chain sawed into lumps and gracefully charred on an open gasoline fuelled BBQ. Kiddies that can prove their parents are a disgrace will be force fed equine cuisine and taken away to be raised in detention camps.

Bloody good initiative Albo.

On a lighter note Bevan and Barry are in for a surprise when they dress up in a horse costume for Fashions on the Field and get gelded.

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In another delightfully stupid week full of herring, Brian and Brian recount the halogen days of Australia Post and Brian's relationship with all and sundry who work at Lower Lawnton Heights most successful stamp and assault weapon emporium, JJ's Stamps and Ammo.

On a heavier note, the Brians catch up with your mum and give her some long overdue badminton lessons.