Saturday, January 31, 2015

Get lost Campbell Newman



Piss off Campbell and don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out as Queensland slams it on you.

I tell you what though, listening to the coverage of the Queensland election, those Queensland accents get really wearing after a while.


Take you austerity measures, designed to make the rich richer and the poor poorer and go away. Australian's will put up with a lot of things, but thank the universe they still wont put up with things that they don't believe are fair.

Friday, January 30, 2015

Could I please speak to...

We were talking about people's funny names at work, as my current not-for-profit role tends to throw up quite a few odd ones. Jessica Jingles. Lola Basher. Perry Palm Island. Chuck Stump. Humphrey Coatrack. Jean Comeagain. Thumbelina Crackpipe. Harry Hitler. Cute, funny, weird, strange,  unbelievable, you-would-change-that-wouldn't-you? OMG how could life be so unkind?

However, I always remember one of the very first odd names from my first days of work.

When I first left school, I worked in two jobs as a young student, one was in a hardware shop in Port Melbourne and the other was a customer service job in Richmond. I remember in the first days of my customer service job, I was given a customer's paperwork and I had to call him up to the counter to help him with his issues. I walked up to the counter and looked down at his name on the paper work.

It said Mustafa Kunt.

I can tell you my young, naive eyes read that first name out as Must Have A... then, as I gazed at the second name I faulted noticeably, well I felt like I did. I am sure my face burned bright red. I am positive my fingers twitched. I wondered if somebody was playing a joke on me. A chill of nervousness ran down my spine. I looked around at my work colleges who were all busy doing other things and taking no notice of me. I turned back to the counter and a man of middle eastern appearance was standing directly in front of me, looking directly at me.

"Jes?"

"Oh, Mr K..., oh, um, er, oh...ah?" Nervous smile.

"Kunt. Mustafa."

How did he say that? Such a strong accent.


We eyeballed each other momentarily, which, I can remember, felt like an eternity.

"How can I help you Mr K..."

"Kunt."

"Yes, ah... how can I help you?"

Fortunately, despite my very best attempts to bring attention to his "funny" name, he seemed oblivious to the difficulties I was having.

"Vell, you see..." He directed my attention to his paper work that he laid out on the counter between us.


So, what was the pronunciation, I hear you ask? Well, Mustafa's very thick accent aside, to write it as he pronounced it, it would be something vaguely resembling Koont.

But, pronounce it how you want, he will always be Must Have A... to me.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

long grass at midnight

The Dentist

I went to the dentist straight after work, my new dentist directly across the road from my current work assignment. I’ve been going to a dentist in St Kilda for quite a while, but recently I have been changing such service providers to ones closer to home. I told him that I’d been to a periodontist in the city for the last… oh, how long has it been? …number of years, but I hadn’t been for the last twelve months. I was a little ashamed of myself, but there it was. He said he’d give my teeth a deep clean, as I must be used to that having been to a periodontist for however many years it has been. The usual procedure ensued. The pointy sticky tool. The cleany zzzzzz thing. The scrappy hook thing. There were a few zzz’s and ouches, but mostly it was the same nervy, scrapey, picky stuff. The pointy thing was stuck up under my gums looking for nerves, the hook ripped at things that seemingly didn’t want to be ripped at, then the polishy circular brush thing polished it all off, searching for more nerves in the process. I was left with the usual gravely debris stuff that I had to swill out of my mouth and spit into “the spittoon.” (modern, white, porcelain, clean, stylish,” that is what I am looking for Patsy, that! That’s what I want!)

“You are a very good patient,” said the dentist when it was all done.

“My uncle was my dentist in the first sixteen years of my life, (dear Uncle Bill)” I said, “so I guess it was fun going to the dentist and it never occurred to me to be scared. I think that has stayed with me.”

He laughed. “Oh no, you are excellent. Very relaxed. Very calm. That was a deep clean, deeper than I ever normally do. If I cleaned the young generation’s teeth (thanks so much for the older generation reference, I thought) like I just cleaned your teeth, they would squeal and scream and insist that they could never be hurt in such a way. There would be quite a performance, let me tell you, but you never made a sound, nor did you jump once.”

The dental nurse agreed with him, by nodding at his sage like words.

I hardly felt any discomfort, at all. Whiny little bitches. But, just between you and me, I wondered, momentarily, if all the nerves in my teeth are completely dead, I felt so little. I smiled and nodded my head. They both smiled and nodded their heads in return, as though something had just taken place between us. But on the inside, let me tell you, I had my Dame Edna Everage face on.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Monday, January 26, 2015

Sir Phil


Prince Philip at the breakfast table with a copy of The Times and a fine china cup in his hand, his pinkie extended.

Prince Philip, "A what? A... a... er... Knighthood? What is that all about?"

The Queen, "Oh, Philip... the colonies?" Her mouth slips into a smile almost despite herself, clearly amused. "I don't know, eat your crumpet."

Prince Philip shakes his the head. Shrug. Baffled. "When did we start awarding ourselves knighthoods?"

The Queen's eyes widen in amusement. She shrugs. She looks to her breakfast maid. "More tea?"

I see this image as a symbol of racism in our country. I think Pauline Hanson started the flag’s demise, by wrapping herself in it and uttering those ridiculous, sadly untrue, words, If you are seeing this then I am dead, the implication was that she was killed by some deranged Asian, Muslim non-Australian boat person of some kind. I think John Howard, who from all accounts should have known better, galvanised its dark meaning when he started the denigration of some of the most desperate people for political gain, after seeing how much we loved some dumb cunt red-haired Queenslander's “tough words.” I think it has been used by stupid, white Australians, wrapped around their shoulders, or tattooed to their thighs, to create an “us” and “them” mentality that has become this countries dirty little, not so, secret.
It is continuing still in policies that most Australian’s voted for – yes, for which most Australians voted – that manifest in some of the cruellest and most ridiculous polices, or beliefs, this country has ever adopted. We are perfectly happy spending 2 billion dollars stopping, what amounts to, little more than 2000 sad, desperate people coming to this country who urgently need our help, justifying it by saying such things as Team Australia, or one nation under one flag, or my very favourite, Australia, love it, or leave it, usually illustrated by the Southern Cross, at the very least, or the flag itself.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

My favourite quotes from the internet that made me giggle when I read them

Reading the internet this morning, here are a few comments made by other people that I liked.


Adrift in a sea of discontent, the Ship of Fools never had anyone at the helm from the outset of Fuhrer Abbott's reign. The boat was a "hand me down" from Herr Howard's days with marine borers disguised as cabinet members eating out the timbers from the inside. The navigator was alseep on watch, the helmsman had no course to steer and it has been all hands to the pumps trying to keep the poor thing afloat ever since the election. The barnacles have been the only things left to plug the holes. Time to scuttle the sad old vessel and watch the rats swim for it.


MESSAGE FROM AUSTRALIA: To ANY other country out there. Would you like to swap our leader for yours? Genuine offer. All applicants considered.

I'm so conflicted, I want him (Abbott) to stay because they will definitely lose the next election, but I am afraid of what he might do between now and then. And I sooooo want to see the (his) blood.

Tony Abbott is the gift to Bill Shorten that never stops giving.

In the same way that the Howard Government rode its inept way to success on the coat tails of the mining boom, Bill Shorten must be carful not to ride on the coat tails of Tony Abbott's ineptitude to success.

Something's got to happen, Abbott is a spud

Predicted this day, I went to School with Mal, never underestimate the determination and resilience of a Grammar Boy. (Fletcherbeaver note - barph!) He'd make a far better PM than this brain dead buffoon. I reckon by mid '15 the coup will be on # seat warmer Abbott.

Turnbull? Recycling old trash isn't going to save the Coalition of Clowns at the next Election.

Tony Abbot is a smelly rabbit and he's gimpy looking.

Everyone is over the Goose. What a failure as PM.

Actually, I believe they (the liberal party) are canvassing Ronald Mcdonald but he's too busy and a bit too politically savvy to accept

liberals getting rid of the bannicles of the ship, now the ministers and captain need to walk the plank.

Abbott's very good at using the Chewbacca defence
When you use a totally bullshit argument that has absolutely nothing to do with the case being tried (it is satire on the OJ Simpson Case). This term comes from the popular TV show South Park - This is Chewbacca, Chewbacca is a Wookiee from the planet Kashyyyk, but Chewbacca lives on the planet Endor. Now, think about that. That does not make sense! Why would a Wookiee - an eight foot tall Wookiee - want to live on Endor with a bunch of two foot tall Ewoks? That does not make sense! What does that have to do with this case? Nothing. Ladies and gentlemen, it has nothing to do with this case! It does not make sense! None of this makes sense. If Chewbacca lives on Endor, you must acquit! The defense rests. DAMNIT!

The Liberals have painted themselves into a corner of a burning house. They cannot roll Tony, that would be dysfunctional by their own standards. Tony is too arrogant and delusional to resign. I guess that just leaves them all going down with the ship and their Captain. It looks like the Australian people will stop that boat(s) after all.

The Office

Kerin has resigned and Kirin said that they were changing direction and they were going for a really experienced person to replace her. 

If I wanted to apply for the job I should give her my resume.

I instantly felt anxious when I thought about having a permanent job, and having to get back into the “office” politics and the bitchiness those in charge are capable of. I've mostly had female bosses and some of them I still adore to this day, but, I am sorry, girl's are the biggest bitches in the office.
Bethany Horton comes to mind, except of course, she is a mentally ill. I wonder if her particular "disorder" has killed her yet? Would you like a side of fires with that? (big smile, wink, joy) I could happily clasp an enormous popcorn and coke to my chest and watch her rat face take its last breath. Or is she still "running" from it, like she is from her sister who hates her? Like everybody who hates her... But, I digress... 

I still don't think I want a permanent role.

But, it is literally a five minute walk from home and I thought that settling in one place was too convenient to pass up. I've been doing the gypsy thing, go to the CBD, go to Clayton, go to Richmond, go to St Kilda Road, go here, go there, for three years now and maybe being in the same place for twelve months might be a nice change for a time. I'd give it twelve months. I am no longer going to give any company longer than twelve months. If you stay longer than twelve months, you are in danger of putting down roots and making yourself a target for those above you to mow you down when they are being mowed down by those above them. Stab, or get stabbed, is the corporate sentiment of the 21st century.

I gave Kirin my resume this morning. She had on her leopard skin velvet jacket with its plunging neckline. (I tell you what, when you are an old scrubber from Dandy North you have no qualms about getting the girls out on display) 


Then I asked her the salary for the role, which I hadn't asked her yesterday, I just assumed what the salary would be. What is it they say about assumptions? It turned out not to be a senior role salary. I thought that was weird and a mismatch, when she had said they wanted a senior person. Oh, I thought. That doesn't make any sense. And I no longer wanted the job, not that I told her that. I was still thinking about the poultry salary when she moved onto something else.

I had to help Kerin all day. We were doing the end of month stuff, but mostly we were balancing and preparing the superannuation payments for the last three months.

Kirin was in a bad mood, as her incompetence is catching up with her. I suspect, and she is having her arse kicked by those above her who are not happy with her sloppy running of our department. (I call it the Bethany Horton Syndrome) She knows her stuff, but she never checks anything and she makes a lot of mistakes, that she never picks up, which she eventually blames on everyone else, anybody she can. She is copping it from the finance execs who want answers to all sorts of things. She has stuffed up the superannuation, which if it is ever audited she will be crucified, the company would be up for large fines for failing to meet quarterly deadlines.

To just outline some of the many problems, she had super funds set up incorrectly, people attached to the wrong super funds and one super fund set up as another fund all together. When I told her that small fact, she said, "Don't worry, we’ll fix it later," even though this decision would have lead to more funds being paid to the wrong fund. Really?

And I would guess, she is blaming anyone she can lay the blame on, as I've heard her blame everyone who have come before me. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. She has already said she is sick of having to do Kerin's job as well as her own. Poor Kerin thrown in the deep end, straight out of uni, with no experience and given shoddy training. I’m guessing, I will be blamed next, when I'm gone.

So, apparently, we had to pull our fingers out tie up all the loose ends and get the super paid before Kirin goes on holidays next week.

So we stayed back to get all of the super done. I had to balance it and produce the files, which I haven’t done before, well not for a long time, but I decided to keep my mouth shut about it and just wing it, which I did. Ah, its like riding a bike.

Late in the arvo, sometime just after 6pm, I heard Kirin talking to somebody on the phone about the people she’d interviewed to replace Kerin, who she was still interested in and who was on the short list, there seemed to be a few of them. So, I could only assume that I wasn’t getting the job. Why would she be interviewing people and intending to interview more people, who all seemed to be girls, if she had any intention of offering me the job. She liked one girl, but she lived too far away. She like another but was worried about her lack of experience. And she liked another, for some other reason, who, of course, was still on the short list.

Funny, she wanted someone who was experienced (with the computer application) when, in fact, I know more about the application than she does.


She wants a senior person but is going to pay a junior salary. She asked me to apply, but she doesn't intend to employ me. This is making less and less sense as the time goes on. It is indicative of a manger who is struggling in their own role.

Anyway, I’d worked for 10 hours helping Kerin who is lovely but so unconfident and she’d been trying to complete all the international transactions, which she was having all sorts of trouble with. She whinges and stresses and over-thinks things and then she just sort of freaks out and then she continually asks me questions interrupting what I am doing. And I couldn’t help but feel pissed off about the job situation, the bullshit of it and me being sucked in again. Did she only offer me a chance to apply for the job as a way of being polite and I missed the tell tale signs? I felt like an idiot. They don’t want me clearly, maybe it was as simple as she wanted a girl to work with. So, why did she ask me then? At 8.15pm when I had been at work since 8.15am, I decided I was going home.

“See ya,” I said and I left. I didn't ask, I just picked up my bag and left.


Shake of the head. You have got to love a 5 minute walk home. I've got a five minute walk home, I said out loud. I laughed. I'm glad there was no one in the street to hear me.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

SMITH&CO. - 132-172 SMITH STREET, COLLINGWOOD


In my opinion, the Smith & Co Apartment development is just getting uglier and uglier, as it looms more and more over Smith Street, and it is still getting higher, like Jack's beanstalk.


I think it is awful and so inappropriate for the area. It will dominate and overpower the streetscape of Smith Street, it will not live in harmony with the area. It represents everything that is wrong with inner city development – it is too big, it is a gross over development of the site.


There are some really great developments in the area and here is this piece of ugliness, this monstrosity, smack bang in the middle of them all, messing up the good work that has been done. It is a development that, I am sure, we will look back at in years to come and say, That was a mistake.

The sensitivity the developers have for the area was shown starkly to all the residents of Fitzroy and Collingwood at
 the very beginning of the build when they demolished a heritage shop at one end of the site to build this new development.

I am not sure how well it will date smack bang in the middle of Smith Street, bigger and squarer and taller than anything that surrounds it. I think it has the potential to go the same way as the Docklands, and that is being unloved, with its juxtaposition to everything else that Smith Street represents. It is clearly designed and developed by people who have far less empathy for the area and far more empathy for their bank balances.


It is a shame. It makes me feel sad for Smith Street whenever I walk down there.

Friday, January 23, 2015

This government has clearly failed, it is time to call an election

Surely with the continuing failure of the Abbott Government to pass its budget, with the repeated rejection of the medicare and education reforms, to name just a couple of its failed policies, it is now time to have a new election?

It is time to call a double disillusion election to clear the budget impasse and to settle once and for all how much the electorate hates this failed Liberal Government. 


Let's establish Tony Abbott as the worst Prime Minister in the history of Australia, by throwing the dishonest arse out of office. How could he not be, as a Prime Minister he established lying and blatant dishonesty as a means of gaining power. Eventually, people get sick of lies, dishonesty, cheating and the trickery. Let's make him the first one term Prime Minister since the war, because he really deserves it.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Roe v Wade

Today is the 42nd anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision to legalise abortion across the U.S. It will be marked by House Republicans voting on a national abortion ban called the “Pain Capable Unborn Child Protection Act.” The proposed ban will prevent women from having abortions after 20 weeks – shaving several weeks off the legal window for women to access abortion services. Given the extreme nature of the bill, several conservative congresswomen have joined the fight against it.

This just goes to prove that those with Jesus have learned nothing.

The thing I don't understand about the anti abortionists, most likely christians, is what do they propose would happen to all of the babies that aren't aborted? Perhaps they could be given to science to experiment on? Lip stick testing, perhaps? Of course, using the aborted foetus' to harvest stem cells could save many, many lives.

Then there is that amazing piece of research, that the anti abortion league try to deny exists, about the modern phenomenon of the drop in crime rates across America that can only, really, be explained being caused by the Roe vs Wade decision. All those unloved and unwanted children who were a burden to their parents who never grew up to be criminals, because they never existed.


So not only are those with Jesus determined to make everyone without Jesus live by their Jesus living beliefs, they are also willing to let the rest of society live with an increased crime rate and a more dangerous society because they want to believe in some 2000 year old myth.

The contradiction here, of course, is that the most conservative, religious states in America are the people who most ardently support the death penalty, look at Texas, for example. Can anybody explain that?

The most conservative, religious states in America are all so the biggest supporters of war. Can anybody explain that?

I sure as hell can't explain it. But then, if you are a bible thumping, scripture loving christian you have no choice but to live your life by contradiction.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Morning in the city





Medicare is only unsustainable if the government of the day decides is is unsustainable due to ideology, which is what we are seeing with the One Term Tony Abbott Liberal Government

Medicare is sustainable, to say otherwise is a lie. The only reason that medicare wouldn't be sustainable is if the government of the day decides it is unsustainable, which is what we are seeing with the One Term Tony Abbott Government.

Tony Abbott must be down in the polls again, as our terrorist alert is raised to high.

It is hardly surprising when they are coming out with the following.

Dick head Tony had a $7 copayment to Medicare which no one liked, so he replaced it with what was effectively a $20 copayment. Tony Abbott really is that stupid?

And fat boy "poor people don't drive cars" Joe Hockey thinks he has to bring in tough budget measures because we are going to live until we are 150, with claims like this from Angry Joe it makes it is hard not to think that he has sustained brain damage.

This is a farcical claim as everyone knows that Big Joe only ever has his eye on his 3 year expiry date and his own survival.

The sad truth is that there is no truth in the claim that Medicare is unsustainable.

This year medicare will cost 20 billion, while the tax breaks on superannuation for the rich will cost the government in foregone revenue about $45 billion, which are not being touched in the budget, which is roughly the same amount that is spent each year on the age pension, which the government is also claiming is unsustainable.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

A lovely sunrise


There was a lovely sunrise this morning, pretty and pink. (I just need to get some disgruntled Muslim to strap on a bomb and go visit the houses across the road to create a much better photo opportunity) Up with the birds, don't they say that is healthy? Early to bed, and early to rise and all that? I really think that was said by an insomniac with far too much time on their hands. (Take some pills buddy and stop boring people with your platitudes, that's what I say.) Still, the colours in the sky sure were pretty and there is a certain loveliness to the peace and tranquillity of early morning.

Monday, January 19, 2015

A Downs Boy Named Christian

There is a Down Syndrome boy named Christian who is the son of a neighbour of mine from up the road and because we have the same name Christian feels a special affection for me, which is kind of cute. Whenever he sees me he hugs me tight. He is really strong, with the grip of steal.

"He really likes you," his mother says beaming. "He is so affectionate."


I can feel how affectionate he is as he humps my leg. Christian often has a boner as he hugs me hello and he isn't backward in rubbing it against me. 
I always want to say, get him off me, but I just smile sweetly instead and wait for it to be over. I figured I can be a good sport and pretend like it is nothing, the hardon not him, and that it won't last too long, which it doesn't.

Nervous smile.

I just think of puppies and Jaguar cars and apple pies.

He is a nice enough kid otherwise. Well, he isn't really even a kid. He is 18, or thereabouts. It has crossed my mind that maybe he is gay. Gay and Down Syndrome, I wonder how that would go for him? Sigh, the thought is a little mind boggling. But, really, I think his mum is right, I think he is just affectionate. I try not to recoil whenever I saw him, because he is a nice enough kid and I don't want him to feel any kind of rejection, I don't want to be responsible for that. I don't mind giving him a hug. He's certainly enthusiastic. And his mother seems to be quite oblivious. Anyway, I can just be a good sport about it, as I really don't see him very often. And it is practically Xmas.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

The Big Lie About Debt

The great conservative government mantra, we must have a balance budget, or even better we must have a surplus budget, seems to be believed by the general (great unwashed) public. I'm sure if you did a man-in-the-street poll asking if they thought it was important to have a surplus budget, I am sure that most people asked would all say, yes, of course.

If you asked them directly after that, "Can you explain to me what a surplus budget, actually, means?" most people would struggle.

What has been so successful has been the LNP indoctrination of the general public in believing that a surplus budget is what is important, as this was used as a tool to denigrate the Labor Party, especially during the last election.

So much so, it would seem that most Queenslanders when polled about what is most important in the Queensland election is "the economy," some artificial construct, which polled way ahead of The Great Barrier Reef, which just happens to be worth 10 billion dollars to the Queensland economy, but apparently isn’t so important to Queenslanders. It seems such a curious idea.

The idea of not leaving debt for the children seems to have struck a cord with the general public. It is just funny that the idea that the will have to endure a poisoned planet on which to enjoy this great wealth seems to be completely ignored by most of the great unwashed… er… general public.


If you continually try to balance the books, you limit the size of what the govt spends, effectively reducing govt services, you effectively play into the small govt lobby, who only sell off the assets to the private enterprise mates to make a fortune, which ultimately increases the gap between rich and poor. Is that the type of society you want?

Saturday, January 17, 2015

The wasps

Ouch sweetie, ouch! I was out in the garden tending to the flowers when I discovered wasps heading into, and coming out of, a hole in the ground. We've been having trouble with, what we thought were, bees hanging around Buddy's water bowl. I got the insect spray and headed back out to the wasps, the whole time my intuition was telling me that I shouldn't, actually, be doing this. This is not an advisable course of action, I was telling myself as I held the insect spray in place and pressed the spray button. But, you know, your idiot brain tells you that it will be okay, just this once.

I was worried about Buddy, as bulldogs are most likely allergic to bee and wasp stings, there is a high chance of him dying if he is stung.

Wow! They really do attack. Suddenly wasps were careering at me like bullets. I got stung on both hands, before Sam and I ran for the house. Once inside, I felt a wasp down my t-shirt and I got stung twice more before I could get my shirt off.

Wasp stings hurt, I can assure you. It is kind of a sting and burn kind of feeling. Each sting came up in, what looked like, large mosquito bites.

I caught the specimen that was down my shirt and put it in a jar. Initially, I wanted it for identification purposes just in case I had an allergic reaction. However, as the hours passed and I continued to feel okay, I have to admit that I got a perverse please from watching it get slower and slower and slower and finally curl into a foetal position and stop altogether, as the side of my chest burned and stung, as did my right shoulder, as did my right hand, as did my left middle finger. Sorry, Buddhists. (My boyfriend is a Buddhist, and curiously he made no attempt to rescue the wasp) Bad Christian! Give me the beads to count, or the hail how’s your father to recite, or the wall to wail at, or the philistines to go jihad on their arses, or the alter boy to molest, or point me in whichever direction, or whatever it is that religious types do in the name of their gods to atone for their sins.

I called the poison's phone number and apparently four wasp stings, probably, aren't going to be dangerous. Ten stings, or more, and you should, apparently, call an ambulance, immediately. If I developed a rash over my body, or started having breathing difficulties, I should go straight to hospital. The poisons guy said that we'd probably want to keep Buddy inside until the wasps were removed. 


So I called pest control and the nice lady said she would get their next available pest control professional to call me back, that was 5 hours ago. So Sam and I dressed up in protective gear, gloves, hats, and shoes, sweetie, looking a bit like Katherine Hepburn, the both of us, out of, um? Was it Suddenly Last Summer? We went out and dug up the nest and killed the fuckers.

We ran inside squealing a few times, let me tell you. We were careful. I think, luckily for us, it was probably a new nest, although Sam did dig out what seemed like, a large honeycomb structure with the white larvae, which we flung into a bin. We beat the wasps to death with the backs of our spades, like we were on the ice with the baby harp seals, or at that fence in Laramie, Wyoming, (I guess that one will always be too soon) and sprayed them with bug spray, like there had never been mention of an ozone layer ever, leaping about and squealing as we did.

Apparently, my bites will sting and burn for days.

I wanted a cigarette afterwards, but as I am on day 5 of quitting that, sadly, wasn't an option.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Kirin had her tits out today

Kirin (my current manager) had her tits out today. She had on some floral chiffon number, which barely covered her sizable girls. I guess when you are an old peroxide blonde chick, whose been around the traps more than once, you think such attire is appropriate for the office. I'm saying those puppies were barely contained, even I watched them bouncing around a few times. They were kind of mesmerising... follow... the... bouncing... ball. I can’t imagine what the straight boys in the office thought – actually, in not for profit, not so many straight boys – especially the ones with the Oedipus complex, or wanting to visit Cougar Town.

She also had on thongs. That is the feet kind of thong and not the other kind, which is too awful to picture, let me tell you, that particular image could scar a nice, young gay boy. Now, can you imagine what would be said if a man wore thongs into the office? And had hipster jeans cut down to his pubic bone? Ha, ha. No, but things, should guys be able to wear them?

Thursday, January 15, 2015


The Cunt

I like the word cunt, it is kind of definitive. There is no grey area when you drop it into a sentence, people know you mean what you say. Sure, there is some shock value, but so what, we need to get over the sensitivity of being shocked. 

If you are deliberately setting out to shock people well, then, people have a legitimate claim to being shocked. But, if people are shocked when you are simply using langue to make a point, then get over it baby the world isn't just here for you.

Some people consider it a heinous word of despicable proportions, I am not sure why? I guess, it is the princess and the whore thing, yet again. The virgin, the mother, no doubt it has some incomprehensible association with the virgin what's her name. (You know so closely associated with all those old men in frocks who molest alter boys)

It is funny that equality only applies to some aspects of life and not all. All of that gentlemen and lady stuff should be swept away as we are all equal now right down the line. Funny though, it doesn't make any sense that it is such a heinous word, considering what straight boys think about vaginas, you'd think "cunt" would be slang for god, or something.

I never used to use that word, I was a private school educated boy who's vocabulary didn't extend to such swear words. (sly look) Over the years I have had mostly boy housemates, but there have been some girls and it has been the girls who taught me to use the word.

I know some chicks get highly agitated with its use (that's saying it, not poking something into it, although most chicks, from what I've heard get agitated by that too, but in quite a different way from all accounts) like you have run your fingernails down their spiritual black board (or is that, run your fingers over your spiritual clitoris? Whichever?). They have a tendency to squeal that they are offended by it. But, you know, people take offence at anything now a days. Funny that we all rail against political correctness, but most of us are completely under its spell, even if we'd deny it if asked. 

So, you know, my answer to people who shriek offence at, what are only after all, words, even if it is only inside my head, is So what? So you are offended? What of it? If anything, it is probably good for you, it takes you out of your comfort zone and makes you think? Doesn't it make you feel alive? Aren't you sick of all of the beige in your life?

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Crazy names

Did you hear about Bradley and Miriam Wells who called their son Deep and their daughter Wishing. 

I can only assume that all the girls of the world are lusting after Deep and all the boy’s will be hoping that his sister will make all their, um, er, wishes cum true.

The Stones named their son Steppin’, as did the Wolf Family.