Archive for the ‘Australia’ Category

Where the hell is Jim Pearson?

July 1, 2017

If the Courier Mail said it..!

July 1, 2017

Relatives! Who’d have them?

June 12, 2017

This is an unpublished post, a musing on finding the traitorous youngest sibling naïve and unaware of events as a result of spending her adult life as a naval pot-walloper.

The mother of Medusa loaded more unwanted trash onto me by way of photographs of her daughter’s second set of nuptials. The clear sparkling night lights of the river cruise reception couldn’t dislodge the unpleasant sense of turpitude that surrounded this most pedestrian of brides. I’m sure that even the acclaimed photographic skills of Cecil Beaton would have been extended in tarting-up the malevolent countenance of this daughter of a blood relative. Fearing a second glimpse of any of these shots could arouse the petrification god, I abandoned them on the kitchen table. A friend saw the images,”Gee, I don’t know about that one, love,” offered a frowning Tim recoiling from the visage, a harsh judgment from one usually too polite and discreet to offer personal opinions.

Within weeks of the travesty, the hapless groom eluded the Gorgon and eloped with paramour-in-waiting. The former serviceman had regained a semblance of self-respect and attributed his discriminatory error to delayed shock after witnessing decapitated Rwandan heads being kicked around in an impromptu football game by the victors. In time he’ll understand the futility of excuses and just enjoy the day. The pair had started banging at primary school so a decade on, via the curse of familiarity, he wanted out.

Normal young men automatically follow instinct and bed anything that moves, with whom a moot point and always more than ready for a bit of fresh, in any case. Boss-bitch’s insistence won the day of course and a marriage was announced, but his body wasn’t meant to be her toy. Wiser men have made observations about premarital sex and marriage and pouring sand on a well oiled machine and so forth. I understand the lovers share an affinity to this day.

Whisky-A-Go Go and a subpoena.

June 4, 2017

The subject’s gone full circle so I toss my small effort into the pot.

I and a few newspaper mates were called upon to view the defendant and then decide if we had seen him on the night in question. We were taken separately to view a prison-bashed Stuart, securely strapped to a bed in the RBH mental ward for really bad crooks. His one glaring eye with it’s message of unabashed hate and rage would have done Robert Newton proud.

We were taken back to the old Supreme Court to give our evidence.

Retailer Pharmacists. As Ill-principled as the Medical Industry.

March 16, 2017

I presented early at Soul Pattinson, Beaudesert, first thing in fact, as the polite junior girl took the first of many mobile display units jamming the aisles to their places outside the shop.

“Can I help you,” proffered the senior shop assistant, as I neared the counter clutching my only reason for visiting such an establishment, a script needing filling.

“It’s the last repeat,” stressing the point, getting the jack of being told what I’m well aware of.

I sat down.

“Have you been here before,” she demanded, “I have that,” was my honest reply, surprised at the question, considering a few weeks before she had needlessly apologized for the short, normal wait.

“I’m not so important as to expect instant attention,” I had told her.

“Oh, but you are very important to us,” came the palavered reply

Minutes later the product had been taken from the shelf, re-stamped with my details, placed in a small tray and passed to the senior woman.

“That was the last repeat,” she echoed my words of a few minutes earlier.

“Am I so retarded that I’ve forgotten what I told you”?

“I’ve got to tell you that,” the comeback.

The previous visit I had had an amiable conversation with one of the proprietors about chemists’ penchant for claiming scripts as their property by wrapping them in their branded advertising and stapling together.

About that time, in the few metres between Woolworths and their shop, I had lost a gold ring and despite the futility of recovering such an item, had returned to the shop with my predicament. In other words, intelligent people would have remembered my presence.

Cash grabbing chemists look upon oldies as an assured and constant money source and like the rest of society, would prefer dealing with contrite, obedient non-thinking slabs of old meat.

Queensland Labor prefers dumbned-down followers who can’t think.

February 5, 2017

Qld Labor can’t think.

Buchholz gives “initial” $M3.5 to exclusive school.

Qld Labor;Liberal Lapdogs.

Australians can’t think…dumbed-down.

 

In the years preceding the 2007 Federal Labor walkover, Brett Raguse stood for anything that enhanced public awareness of his entity. At that time I was querying Qld Labor’s apparent disinterest in it’s own fate and wondered if a PR machine existed to defend the Party.

Labor had an information tent on market days at Beaudesert’s Dick Westerman Park, and I began chatting with its resident luminaries. The elected Ruguse was consolidating his image when I put to him the aggravating nature of a Viet vet, a dangerous psycho named Garvey who had been homeless forty years, now a neighbouring tenant whose “in your face” cigarette habit was playing havoc with my respiratory system.

A few days later, Raguse made headlines with the politicians favourite standby of defending Viet Vets who, “fought and gave their lives for our democracy,” denouncing those so intolerant as to find fault in trivial matters. To reinforce his defence of returned junkie Vets, he would join servicemen’s unions to better fight THEIR fight.

The under quote comes from an old piece I did at that time on how touchy can Labor be simply because of the limits of their own vision. And my question to the tent follower, Jason Whitlock that so convulsed him went like: “Every day The Courier Mail has at least four anti-Labor stories that are left to run their course and germinate, but are never denied or questioned. Why not”?

Keeping in mind that anti-Liberal sentiment lasted only one term and Liberal Bert van Manen regained for the Libs. The measure of the man is shown by Raguse’s career choice. You need to be morally bankrupt and essentially a con-man/people-hater to be in real estate, a choice that is greed driven and tailor-made for the Liberal mindset.

“Now while I had become acquainted with this lot by mutual, initially Labor-favoured  small talk well before Raguse made his seat runs, my comment so startled the boy Jason Whitlock, a minor apparatchik, that he produced an apparently ever-ready camera and asked me to pose with his lady-friend for a “matey shot.”

I did so without qualm, having  nothing to fear or hide, but the Labor Party had uncovered a dissident, and I was about to get a taste of their infamous mind games. Once an avid Labor voter, I seek now to support the candidate most likely to damage Queensland Labor Thugs.”

Queensland Labor like followers with an 80 IQ baseline.

February 5, 2017

This became, “Queensland Labor prefer dumbned-down followers who can’t think.”

An oldie scares the devil out of Beaudesert woman.

January 27, 2017

 

Was using Coles self checkout recently at a busy time when a clean-cut, middle-aged woman, of apparently normal mien was hesitant about squeezing her way to the only vacant machine, the other side of me. Took a few seconds off processing my stuff and rearranged my trolley allowing her access.

She looked at me in absolute horror and backed off,” I’m so terribly sorry,” she stammered.

“Why should you be sorry”? I asked. I hadn’t been abrupt or yanked the trolley in anger.

She repeated her apology. Quasimodo reputedly had a kind and gentle nature yet invariably got a bad press.

Transaction complete, went on my way, wondering if the woman hadn’t had a prescience flash.

2011 Census came with a sheet sniffer.Queensland’s Disdain For The Recognition Of Human Rights.Reprinted from Sept. 2011.

August 24, 2016

A man’s ethical behavior should be based effectually on sympathy, education, and social ties and needs; no religious basis is necessary. Man would indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear of punishment and hope of reward after death. Albert Einstein


I dared not ask why, or even delve into the computer for answers, my old age a constant reminder of my stupidity and non-person status, the subject, incidentally on which I was working, with the confidence of having made a reasonably good fist of apologizing for my idiocy and ignorance and for my very existence. Researching beyond three Google pages is a tiring task, a tardiness that has allowed devious, immoral Queensland Housing gorgons, one of whom, Charmane Schoutens tried to have me evicted for defending myself against attack by a favored tenant. She and the ultimate hate-merchant and practitioner, Kimberley Hillhouse, long ago relinquished any right to manners by me, their fair treatment never offered the writer. I was rather taken aback on learning I was supposed to be contrite in the presence of this ill-mannered crap; that he, the nice QBuild representative was not to be feared, that Housing were the heavies.

Stasi area chief Paul Gladmann, using annual premise inspection as a pretext to do inspections of another sort, was taken aback that an obvious retard should ask him to formally identify himself, but the assumption by biased Housing “officials”that a classic I am a lolling-headed helpless dolt was shitting me. has left me with no alternative. Previous annual ‘inspection’ visit by piranha, Celeste Turner on Nov 25 2009 found her on the defensive and confrontational, most unexpected, having never before met her. Her behavior apparently, a result of colleagues feeding a scattery head.

Guileless, or gut-less perhaps frightened little messenger, Terry O’brien, yes-boy of the gorgons will never be good enough to sniff my back hole, but will be recorded while trying to do so.

Bligh continues to have Murdoch’s editorial support it seems. Had another letter rejection by the Courier in which I again pleaded for smoking restrictions in aged flat precincts. Their opinion is shared by the tenant union’s LANARTA JEAN, who is evidently just another despicable Government lapdog who finds assisting retarded tenants bothersome, as are cigarette smoke toxins in aged flat precincts, to quote her, not of her concern.

One looks at the bullshit surrounding the talentless druggie, Amy Winehouse and the 27 club nonsense with ho-humity. Good and proper age to go out, what with diminishing sex appeal inducing soft-ons. What concerns me a great deal is how supposed adults who mourn this no-hoper, with Queensland Labor Party support, can demand entrance til 8 p.m. with instructions to quit griping about cigarette smoke and the unnecessary noise of fellow tenants.

Extract From Nanny State Files

 

Most thinking Australians have followed Andrew Bolt’s court ruling plight which was to me the done deal of the decade given the ‘political correctness’ claptrap that banishes decent citizens to the desert. Intrusive visits by Queensland Housing heavies to silence my anti-smoking comments and condemnation of their active encouragement to favoured tenants to release toxins at will, proves more stinks in Queensland Labor than Housing’s calculated disregard of human rights.

Andrew Bolt has thousands of supporters, one of whom is John Roskham, speaker of a think-tank whose letter in Bolt’s column could apply to the silent suffering of many flabbergasted, decent-living, generally older people, whose principles have been unceremoniously pulled from under them. Abandoned, they are left to wonder why inborn instinctive goodness, once so pivotal to a civilized society, is now derided as a mental aberration peculiar to ‘oldies.’

That I’ve lately questioned my nurturing by overly decent and worthy parents is unfair to their memory and a poor reflection on law-maker’s sympathy with bullies and other recidivists who have been nanny-state trained not to think beyond on whose property should they chuck their take-away rubbish.

As a Qld. Housing tenant, I have seen and experienced too much blatant disregard and disdain of human rights by operatives within the Housing system, that had I wanted to keep my self-respect, would have departed long ago. Two instances; 89 y.o. woman troubled by downwind cigarette smoke drift and road toxins pleading with me not to let on that she was so troubled, didn’t want to get on wrong side of Housing staff, she said. Same lady issued with notice to correct an anomaly with $1.90 f/n undeclared, unaware WW2 pension of first, dead husband. Given two weeks to correct things or lose rent subsidy. A worrier, she chased a remote off-spring to fix it. Dead five weeks later.

Example 2; Visiting an acquaintance in another housing precinct, I passed a declared fifth columnist who had spitefully made false accusations against my acquaintance for undeclared income. Facetiously, I offered him some of my notes for his edification. His reply is typical of Housing Commission’s killing of personal thought: “No way in the world,” he quickly shot off, and I am not kidding, added, “If they (H.C.) get to hear about it, I’ll be looking for another flat.” For Queensland Housing, this manipulated, brain-dead oxygen waster is the embodiment of the perfect tenant.

Mr. Roskam, Australians should be outraged at tons of social issues, as you say, but unless they are suffering a similar fate, their comprehension of outrage is hard put to extend beyond deep and meaningful statements like “scary” and such heart-felt emotion could happen only if a promised firework exhibition or free sausage sizzle failed to happen. I commend your intent.

“How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate, they could plug-in your wire whenever they wanted to.” — George Orwell, 1984.

Was clicking through StumbleUpon when up bobbed an academic’s ranking of “Fourteen Defining Characteristics Of Fascism.” and with the continuing harassment from Bligh’s Housing thought police, it was once more unto the fight, dear friends, once more. ” Christ, here we go again,” I could have uttered as I yanked the four most relevant points over to a page and rearranged the importance order.

Les Johns.

Brisbane bus driver accused of making racist remarks towards passenger…But is it ok to demean a monkey?

July 28, 2016

Woman with babe in arms boards bus, has altercation with driver, storms down isle, slumps into seat besides passenger and sobs,”That driver, I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.” “Get right back to that bloke,” advised the man, “and lay into him, and if it helps, I’ll hold the monkey for you.”


%d bloggers like this: