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Brian, Brian, the other Brian's 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 the 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.

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This week the Brians investigate startling allegations that Orstralia is not Orstria and anyway they can't play football with or without incriminating photos of grown men with members of another species.

Later in the episode, after a visit to the United Nations; the Brians manage to convince 190 member states to exclusively use hot dog cannons in all future wars. The Russkies and Yanks still like the good old days and no one gives a fuck what the Israelianites think. Cunts.

On a lighter note Barry volunteers to be tied down on a bull ant nest until he tells Bevan where he hid his mum.

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Brian and Brian discuss the intricacies of dealing with the local Police department and the ways and means of making it a good business decision. From securing lost property and stolen goods, to hoarding physical evidence to be put before the Courts, the Brian's detail the size of the Shed and Pit required to relieve the Coppers of the stuff and allow you to store it at your location. For a fee, the Brian's will show you how to successfully pilfer from said stash and stuff and show a healthy balance sheet at years end. For another sizeable fee Barry can be enlisted to chart your Tax evasion course.

Brian remarks that our Australian and Southern Hemisphere Lord, Anthony Albowbenesieeee is hitting his straps as he instructs the Orange Turd in the US about how to suck on a Tarriff and how to ignore phone calls, let alone his innate ability to get drunk just by touching a bottle of Stout.

On a magnificent sight for sore eyes, Barry gets gored by a Bull with herpes. Unbelievably callous and raucously hilarious and stuff.

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On tonight's Episplode, Brian and Brian ask the logical and somewhat profound question that the world has pondered for centuries, and yes, the answer is outstanding. Er, due to copyright laws, a Cat and perjury, this may not be accurate.

Brian of his own volition, categorises at length his attitude and enjoyment of Patina. Yes, that biological extract that all and sundry are discussing and enthusing about in all English speaking countries here and elsewhere, and stuff.

On a nonsensical note but hilarious bit, Barry is hit by a bus.