The Looter’s Club…Beware words from a Cheshire cat.

My notes on the tactics that individuals within Queensland Housing employ to disperse unliked and unrepentant tenants pales after seeing what Syria’s amoral Assad followers did to the boy in their leader’s name. This stuff has been going on since Jesus taunted cows, and before three weeks have elapsed will revert to irrelevancy when Australian greed and self-interest resume on page one. Whatever their motivation, the result isn’t too far removed from Foucault’s horrid description of French punishment for patricide, a judicial practice inspired and amused the Gaul electorate about the time Cook and Banks tour to examine Venus was being pushed down George the third’s neck. Checkout

The personal wailing and concerns I present mostly enliven (read encourage) the community’s ennui, the very quality favourable to atrocities everywhere and herd-adherents anywhere. The disinterest awarded Queensland Public Tenants of which I belong, is reward for not knowing better I suppose, or knowing what’s right but not resisting oppression means its victims must endure the indignity that biased Housing Department knuckle-heads find more satisfying than an orgasm.

Let people be wise by judgement.

A life of chronic dimness dulls the approach of dementia I’m thinking, and hopefully, its transition to full stage pant-wetting fools my judges for some time, yet stinky breaths know as little about self as about mouth hygiene. Queensland Housing sheet-sniffers don’t relish having established methods of mind-game torment foiled, with the favored Mental Assessment Evaluation a dismal failure on me, and belittling someone so stubborn also wasted.

The backroom plotting of Labor Government sycophants always manage to come up with something devious to demean unrepentant tenants. The latest trick is welfare related, called ‘income management’ and its use is about to be widened after the blocking of aged and other welfare payments brought NT bureaucrats premature pleasure; will become a valuable tool in Qld. where an aggrieved 22 y.o. Government nose-picker can get square with a mature tenant by recommending assisted living after discrediting him as befuddled.

Only the dead have seen the last of war.

George Street’s emerging defender of the common people, the mephitic Queen of pus publicity berates her suppurating bureaucrats to win acclaim from flood people and other voters, while the equally superficial, nay supercilious fancy-dressed Treasurer-ponce does the same, much less convincingly. The ruse will work because the absence of two words, the phrase common sense, stealthily withdrawn from the Australian lexicon have allowed dumbed-down Australians to fall prey to false praise and can be bought by adding superfluous garbage to the creation of a couple of hundred new heroes every month or so. Let’s consider a Shakespeare Caesar quote, “The bad that men do live after them…” Nowadays however, only puritan martyrs “pass away.” Are all the arse-holes sacrificing everything decent to fight for his fellows in George Street Thug Club?

While this is going on, I am warned by a Queensland Housing stand-over agent Terry, my tenancy is at risk if I carry-on about the twin pox of cigarette smoke fouling my flat, and the screaming into their appliance of moronic mobile phones users. Additionally, I must replug my phone and accept calls from the unskilled and graceless Hillhouse. That these drug affected and drunk Housing puppies can harass a mature tenant on a whim until 8 pm and brag of their fifth column contacts screams for revision. Were any of these iq bereft sewer conceived pipsqueaks persuaded to attend the bullying seminar at Logan Diggers? Bet not! I make an uneducated wild stab in the dark, having only recently exited the womb, and not too worldly-wise, that certain annual bonuses to professional bureaucratic bludgers will be generously inflated next Chrissy as a salve for the Gorgon castigation. Love Les.


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