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This week Brian and Brian discuss how to embalm unwanted children in Diet Coke and how Samboy BBQ flavoured potato chips are to be implanted into the brains of the gullible in search of the unobtainable.

This week also saw the Brians launch a new product onto the global market. The  fully adjustable arse licking ladder (or ass licking, if you like donkeys) Stocks keep running out so buy one now before they all run out.

On a lighter note the economy is still trickling down to the battler in the street and the latest predictions are that by 2068 the first drips of the trickliztion effect will only be another decade or two away from evaporating.

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This week Brian and Brian bring you another action packed look at the 2025 International Jesus look-a-like competition.

Eighty-seven finalists from sixty-four countries and three planets via for the ultimate honour of being crowned Jesus of the year.

Judges will need to have a keen eye and a strong arm to nail all these competitors up, so put on your best loincloth, pull up a donkey and get ready to throw a few stones.

On a side note Barry is available all next week for all your scourging needs.

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This week the Brians explore Tasmanium as the centre of Australia's space program. Not only has Tasmanium got 77% of all the necessary technology, minerals and optimism to make space travel a reality for the average person; but you will also be able to take your pets.

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This week the Brians contemplate  moving to Antartica for the next four years or more whilst the  Lunatics drive the United States and bits of the earth into the abyss of the Mariana Trench. 

Elon Musky and Asstrailia's own Fuhrer-in-waiting, Potater Dutton make plans to split the planet in two, drag half to Mars for the rich and powerful and leave the shitty half right for the rest of us scum.

On a lighter note we are all doomed for the foreseeable future.

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This week Brian and Brian discuss philanthropy, philistines and Dr Phil. They draw the conclusion that the world is neither flat nor round but more obelisk shape due to the number of chromosomes now available at Walmart.

Oprah Windfrier makes a surprise appearance and wrestles Megan Markmurkmucksen in a vat of goat semen whilst the Archbishop of Lawnton Heights blessed the whole affair with a suspicious bulge in his cassock.

On a sombre tone the Brians bury Barry in a shallow grave after a sewing accident, dig him back up and bury him again a week or so later.

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In this episode The Brians reveal the best way to deal with all the shit presents and resolutions that clog up a fresh new year. Charles Darwin summed it up best when he said "Throw that shit in the ocean!"

The truth about wombats is discussed and we learn how to make barometric pressure your friend.

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This week the Brians recall the trials and tributaries of Asstralia's northern capital territory  place, the majestic and sweaty City of Charles Darwin. Once prized as the home of dirt, gravel and roadkill; this plucky little back passage has been through the wars over the years. Literally! 

Bombed by Japanese interior decorators in WW2 and blown down, sucked off and spat out by the aptly named Cyclone Dick Tracy in 1974 and again in parts of 1978 or 9, Charles Darwin Town remains an historic landmark and a reliable place for Brian to be run out of by the locals.

On a side salad, Barry gets his arm torn off in a Christmas sandwich accident and God refuses to pay out the insurance policy, the bugger!

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Wrapping up this years events like a stinking bag of prawn shells in a Murdoch newspaper, Brian and Brian unravel the magic and mystery of the festive seasons with all the understanding, warmth and spottiness of a leper with his (or her) scabs torn off. 

The somewhat true tale of the not-so-baby Jeesus and some of his henchman is explained in simple language for simpletons and smart asses alike....and speaking of asses, the annual donkey salesman of the year award is announced.

No spoilers but Barry has been drunk ever since the award ceremony at the Chermside Heights Abattoir. 

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This week the Brians realise that jail time is much easier these days now one doesn't have to bend over to pick up the soap. Handy pump packs of Diddy Oil is now being introduced to the Professional Corrective Services division of P Diddler Enterprises. The Diddler himself is overseeing the introduction of this eagerly awaited product to inmates and wardens alike.

Nothing says I love your body more than a good diddling in the shower with thugs, murderers and the incarcerated innocent; like a firm rubbing down with the personally tested Diddy Oil. Now infused with radioactive goat semen for that slightly unnatural glow.

On a more serious note, this week Barry gets to test drive his own Diddy Oil after an altercation with a bicycle and a midget; whilst Bevan is sworn into Donald Trumph's new wardrobe as Secretary of What Are You Lookin' At Cunt!

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This week the Brians reflect on what the upcoming Awstrarliun election means for the average Antipodean Pedestrian and how The Right Dishonourable Peter Dutton, Minister for Castrating Everything will inevitably win; leading to mass "What the fuck have we done!", which will also inevitably follow.

On a lighter note....Donald Trump....aaaagggghhhh!