Posts Tagged ‘No One Knows What He Doesn’t Know.’

If the Courier Mail said it..!

July 1, 2017

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.

“Heeey everybody, I’m a ‘white cunt.'”

June 7, 2016

Beau could have prefixed ‘desert’ as being an administrative, walled township of National/Liberal Party rule, but I could have gone off-track here. Recently, I ‘relocated’ to the fair borough of Beaudesert and the short street of my new voting address forms part of the common walking route into town, recalls a small personal incident gone now some eighteen years.

Some of the concreted walking path from Edward St covers a low-lying flood plain and is a pleasant kilometre or so stroll into town which I always enjoyed. Nothing too memorable ever occurred until one day on the trip home, the sudden whirring of push-cycle wheels as a prepubescent black kid wheeled past sending a golly of badly misdirected spittle my way and screamed, “White cunt.”

All this time later, the boy, if fate allowed his living, would now be a young man in his late twenties with no recall of the event, possibly an oft performed party trick, or perhaps I was a one-off, would have given him a brief feel-good moment. At that young age, would have been groomed by an older person, a parent or relative, espousing hate.

Wonder if his attitude changed, one way or the other, for better or worse, in the meantime.

When Council ‘mates’ destroyed an Edward St. tree to satisfy a grudge.

April 24, 2016

When Beaudesert Council Works Dept mates could lop a footpath tree to satisfy a neighborhood dispute.

“The Big Pumpkin,” apt tag for Beaudesert’s notorious rip-off proprietor.

March 4, 2016

The Big Pumpkin will rip you off, but serial pest Reinke, won’t be present.

Red cabbages aren’t all that big. Stripped of its fibrous, unusable outer leaves, the product compares in size to that of a small rock melon. In other words, they’re not that big, but Woolworths, Beaudesert sometimes halve them for their own value-adding benefit.

I didn’t want two halves of a small cabbage, nor would I have settled for one. I wanted two complete, unmolested red cabbages. Resisting the temptation to cave-in to my ennui and just buy two half pieces and be done with it, I went across the road to the most ill-mannered rip-off merchant in town, The Big Pumpkin, of which I recently related my experiences with this prick in “The Big Pumpkin will rip you off, but…”

These strip shops are handy for quick, one item purchases but  unconscionable, crude pricks like this fellow really should be avoided, if only to keep one’s dignity. Too hungry and inconsiderate of his customer to use bags, I fronted up with two red cabbage at $4.50 each, in my own carry bag. $2.50 at Olleys if you’re passing through North Maclean.

“That’s OK” he offered as he handed me a dollar change.

“That’s OK”? I queried.

“Thanks.” he conceded.

The hell with indifferent petty crooks like this, I swear I’ll search further or go without in the future.

Darren, Beaudesert’s Dauntless Demon Checks Under Your Bed So You Don’t Have To.

January 31, 2016

Beaudesert’s bucolic, hero-starved weekly parchment finds such local subjects a rare breed and when one comes their way, it’s all systems go. This ever-green tale of self-sacrifice and determination tells of a fearless fighter for everything that is right and politically conservative in the Scenic Rim and of  the  evils that lurk in the terrorist hot-spot of outer Brisbane.

BT Sept 9,2015. Demon Phantom Terrorist chaser.


A quotation with an image is big stuff: The detective observes,”…not all Muslims are terrorists.” Widely travelled Beaudesert Times staff, one of whom is remoured to have made a visit to remote Brisbane, believe the quote opens new ground for mutual understanding and tolerance.


Eager for knowledge, a one-day Logan area seminar enlightened Detective Ward on terrorism and he  knows now that ‘Al-Qaeda and ISIS’ are trigger words for overseas western-haters with an unpleasant agenda. He also “heard” lectures which are mostly free, except for the Murdoch-censored Australian press, delivers to the world every second and is freely available to anyone.

Government reckoned Demon Dave was worth it to have wasted dollars thrown his way and be officially brought ‘up to speed,’  while he adds very important gen about Scenic Rim’s  formidable ‘sovereign  terrorists’ to those manufactured by ASIO, AFP, Tony Abbott’s jumped-up Benedict Quaedvlieg’s ABFarce and whoever else.

The Oxley Academy of Police Excellence is being prepared for the Dux of the year awards of which Detective Ward has a fair chance of taking  off.

The coveted prize is believed to include all 28 episodes of the entertaining, British-made, Foyle’s War, set in the glum of immediate post-WW2 Britain, whose hero doggedly goes after the baddie, despite frowns from ‘above’ and whose instinct proves him always right on the mark as the rotten kraut partisan killer gets his.



BT 28/10/2015.

Go back in time ten, twelve years perhaps, and the guardian angel bears an astonishing resemblance to an ardent, younger plain clothes copper who, to  allay suspicion, would take a  10/12 year old boy, presumably his son, into hotel bars or annexes where poker machines were then situated and begin inquisitive, ‘friendly’ conversations with players, mainly about their poker machine proclivity. Without certainty, I guessed he was looking at their money source, hoping to nail a dope dealer or three in a trade very important to Beaudesert’s black or unofficial economy.

He was so obviously a rank novice at the sneak, sniffing the sheets, delving game, I had a profound commiseration for the fellow’s absolute uselessness. An obvious and profound novice.  If the boy followed his clumsy father into the same game, I do feel there’s some amusing Pink Panther copy that might interest sequel writers.


Wasting time at the truly dreadful, stale nicotine stinking Logan & Albert Hotel a year or so ago, a tall, smartly groomed young man with flawless, smooth, very non working-class hands presented at the next machine. His blue overalls carrying the folding marks of work attire only a short time before removed from its package.

Rathdowney cop reaction to his removal.BT 28/10/2015.

“How ya goin”? he started. Without a shadow of doubt, and long ago forgetting the hapless original, here was The Son of Darren, Darren Two, even. We were immediately joined by a similarly aged, tubby, ordinary  young woman using the same false matey approach, straight out of Kath & Kim. These hopeless cunts can only nab those equally short in the nous department. Inept crook chasers will only nail the Walter Mitty Darcy Dugans, thinkers with half a gram of iq will avoid the can for much longer.



Beaudesert’s far right RSL uses its corrupt management to nail and cause ever-lasting harm to dissenters or to those whose opinions don’t match theirs.

Guilfoyle bust.
Nasty singular master of hate.

Reluctant ‘volunteers’ ought to stay home and kick the cat.

December 24, 2015

Woodhill Cemetery is tended by volunteers who give the dusty dry grounds extra attention before Christmas that friends and relatives may remember better times with the departed in pleasant surrounds. Two or three chaps were resting-up and chatting when I alighted the car but before I made way to the passenger side to get the evergreens and a bottle of water, the buggers jumped on their slashers and returned to work.


Woodhill Cemetery Entrance.Woodhill Cemetery entrance.

Tree and gibber debris are sent with great speed and energy from rotary propelled slashers, their danger demonstrated by ineffective signage that Councils erect to indemnify against damage claims. The resentful volunteers should be satisfied that hundred centimetre and longer, missiles found their mark.

Nearing home, Kooralbyn’s half-witted cretins reminded the locals that an irresponsible authority had granted permission for environmental louts to rip around bush roads in a fire engine sounding the horn and its siren as a seasonal celebration. Self-justification and not altruistic ideals is more the motive here.

It is submitting ones integrity to the whims of blockheads once again who rule and ruin the lives of decent, reasonable, law-abiding citizens. The brigade nonsense is rural version of the gross monetary waste and stink that Sydney residents are obliged to endure on New Year’s eve.

The Rotary wankers, no doubt, regard themselves as heroes of the day.


North Maclean’s “Olleys Oranges.” Be aware!

December 5, 2015

“Enter,The Big Pumpkin…”

“It Profits a Man…”

Buchholz..Loyal Praetorian Guard..

It is a certainty that where-ever you do your green-grocer shopping you will, in auction parlance, unwittingly or not, pay a buyer’s ‘premium’ on the way out.

And I did just that the other day after fruit and veg shopping at Olleys Orange, one of a motley collection of food based convenience stores at North Maclean near Jimboomba. When the strip opened, sparkly and fresh 15 or so years ago, the sub-news agency failed within weeks and evidently, even today, mum and dad entrepreneurs with superannuation cash are advised against news-agencies.

Olleys Orange, who don’t use a possessive mark, taught me two things the other day: Firstly, if you think you’re alert to all the tricks, you are about to fall prey to a new one, and the cabbage from the same patch that The Big Pumpkin markets are of the drum variety whereas I had guessed it as Croatian.

I’ve erased extras from their receipt to highlight only those subjects under discussion:


The captivated reader will note that Olleys huge cabbage weighed-in at a shade under 5 kilo would have cost $4.50 at Beaudesert’s The Big Pumpkin, so I’m up two and a half bucks. But hang on, look at the mushroom picture, and this is where the writer demonstrates his naïvety, a mere novice when it comes to outwitting the Royalty of Ripoffs.

With the absence of the usual prominent signage, 99 cents for 500 g of champigeons appealed to me so I took three bags thinking if they wanted to unload ageing stock, I’d help them out. Their pricing applied to one marked bag only. I had been done! It is probably their favourite confidence trick and with that visit my first in a decade or so, was probably my last.


Loyal Praetorian guard has short shelf life, but Lord of the Larder is forever.

September 29, 2015

The third pictured aberration is the obese Australian Liberal Representative for the Federal seat of Wright, doesn’t seem out of place that an obviously greedy man represents a huge stretch of mainly rural land, extending from the Gold Coast hinterland to the Toowoomba Range. With an electoral office in Beaudesert, some 60 kilometres south-west of Brisbane, the town is also 60 retro years back into Joh Bjelke-Petersen corruption-land, a fiefdom shared with State Liberal MLA Krause and a perjured bankrupt Tory Mayor.

BT. 1/07/2015.

BT. 10/06/2015

Buchholz’s entry into Federal Parliament was sponsored by his friend, Barnaby Joyce, National Party Senator and vice-leader, about to assume leadership from the ailing Truss, is, like himself, another “sweaty fat man” to quote a prominent visitor to this country with whom he differed. A female produce store proprietor who swears by Buchholz won’t even try to pronounce the name, recently asserted that sultanas and raisins were actually dried grapes and that eating the former was ok but one should shun the latter.

Jimb. Times. 29/07/2015.

All images: Beaudesert/Jimboomba Times.

In Wright, can be found a fair cross-section of the Liberal’s famed ‘small business’ brotherhood. Many of them concerned with “the Woodridge creep”, Nat-speak for the influx of working class, urban outsiders not overly familar with cow-shit, upsetting and influencing the status quo by their non-rural thinking and way of life.

Buchholz’s entry into Federal Parliament was sponsored by his former National mate, Barnaby Joyce, Senator and vice-leader of his Party, wanting to oust Truss to become a heartbeat away from the Prime Minister-ship. Daunting thought! If Joyce is “a sweaty fat man” to quote a prominent visitor, then imagine the leakage from Buchholz, Abbott camp follower, whose electoral success was a walkover, it being an unashamed conservative and bucolic seat since the year dot.

BT 23/09/2015.

Click on Buchholz’s Wally Mitty “Praetorian guard” reflections and follow through on his fear of the Labor Party regaining the Treasury; all dummy perfect as his much admired Joyce.

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