SCHOOL TEACHER POSES NUDE.

A Northern Beaches school teacher has recently been dismissed for posing nude with her husband in an issue of Cleo magazine.
Lynne Tziolas, 24, and her husband, Antonios, appeared in the magazine in an article entitled "Buck naked couples talk about their sexlives".
In the article, the pair were asked about how many times a week they had sex and the most risque thing they had done.
"Leaving the blinds up and the lights on all of the time", Mr Tziolas, 45, answered.
In the image the couple are seen standing side on to the camera, as the article heading suggests, "Buck naked". No private parts can be seen but nevertheless, they are indeed clearly naked. (Need I remind you - they are teachers of young children).

A statement released by the Department of Education said Mrs Tziolas had been suspended after the school had received complaints from "several" parents, and who could blame them (the parents complaint OR the school's response).
Mrs Tziolas says she believed one parent had complained and is fighting the suspension.


Now, for a 24 year old female to marry a 45 year old man is worth remarking upon for a start. And the fact that they both appear to have more than their fair share of tats is also a point of consternation in my opinion.

These two are teaching children and we all know how impressionable they can be. To expose themselves in such a way was bound to bring ramifications - they surely must have known this.
They were paid $200 bucks for the shoot (no way would I get my kit off for 200 bucks - add an extra zero and I'd maybe consider it but it would still not be a certainty), so money couldn't have been the motivation. Why then? Why would a teacher, a professional who spends all day with children consider doing such a thing?
Only they would know but it seems to lean towards a certain kind of voyeurism and frankly I stand behind the Education Department response. I most definitely wouldn't want such an individual teaching my child.
Mind you, I'm not to keen on teachers plastering themselves in tats either just quietly. Remember, these people teach our kids! What image is that presenting. What next; nose rings, Mohican haircuts? Why not go the whole nine yards and tattoo your face like those scary as fuck Maoris (Btw, I know lots of Maoris and have a good opinion of them but would we want Jake the Muzz* teaching kids).

And before you complain about me being a prude, don't be ridiculous, anyone who knows me knows full well I'm as "un-prudish" as a man could be but I say again, children are impressionable and what message is that sending? That it's okay to strip for the cameras and discuss your supposedly private sex life in public? That's it's "cool" to paint yourself?
Frankly, and I know of at least one person whose nose I'll put firmly out of joint with the following remark, (like I give a fuck!) people (though predominately men I'd have to say) who feel the need to paint themselves are lacking in...something. Self esteem, confidence? I'm not a professional psychologist but there is clearly more to it than "it looks good". In fact, in the case of the aforementioned Maoris, such paint is solely and purely based in aggression to "scare off" their enemies (a tactic borrowed from many creatures in the animal kingdom) and that intent remains in the modern day. Men, more so than the less aggressive women typically wear tats because it makes them look aggressive or "hard". I know as a young man I tended to keep my distance from such men - and such action was proven to be the correct choice many times.

Anyway, all that aside, I say again, these characters are SCHOOL TEACHERS employed in guiding our young - and that's a tough enough job already in this day and age of "hand-tied" parenting and the associated disrespect it fosters so to the Department I say, Bravo!

The Tziolas's are appealing the decision. I'll be interested in the result.

*Jake the Muzz is that scary fucker from the film "We were warriors" who when full of piss would fight with a phone box.

PHEW!!!

Well, it transpires that the dog wasn't as horrendously treated as I at first believed. That is a huge relief for me.

However, it doesn't alter the fact that we as the 'master race' repeatedly treat every other living thing on earth with a certain contempt - like it's there for our own personal amusement.

So my disgust is still warranted!

TWO AND A HALF MEN

Ahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Funniest thing since the Bundys.


Nuff said.

THE MELTING POT THAT IS ZIMBABWE

I received this from another friend - and she lived in Zimbabwe so she'd probably know...

=====================================================================================






I reckon that these are the last days of TKM and ZPF. The darkest hour is always before dawn.

We are all terrified at what they are going to destroy next........I mean they are actually ploughing down brick and mortar houses and one white family with twin boys of 10 had no chance of salvaging anything when100 riot police came in with AK47's and bulldozers and demolished their beautiful house - 5 bedrooms and pine ceilings - because it was "too close to the airport", so we are feeling extremely insecure right now.



You know - I am aware that this does not help you sleep at night, but if you do not know - how can you help? Even if you put us in your own mental ring of light and send your guardian angels to be with us - that is a help - but I feel so cut off from you all knowing I cannot tell you what's going on here simply because you will feel uncomfortable. There is no ways we can leave here so that is not an option.



I ask that you all pray for us in the way that you know how, and let me know that you are thinking of us and sending out positive vibes... that's all. You can't just be in denial and pretend/believe it's not going on.

To be frank with you, it's genocide in the making and if you do not believe me, read the Genocide Report by Amnesty International which says we are - IN level 7 - (level 8 is after it's happened and everyone is in

denial).



If you don't want me to tell you these things-how bad it is—then it means you have not dealt with your own fear, but it does not help me to think you are turning your back on our situation. We need you, please, to get the news OUT that we are all in a fearfully dangerous situation here. Too many people turn their backs and say - oh well, that's what happens in Africa. This Government has GONE MAD and you need to help us publicize our plight--- or how can we be rescued? It's a reality! The petrol queues are a reality, the pall of smoke all around our city is a reality, the thousands of homeless people sleeping outside in 0 Celsius with no food, water, shelter and bedding are a reality. Today a family approached me, brother of the gardener's wife with two small children. Their home was trashed and they will have to sleep

outside. We already support 8 adult people and a child on this property, and electricity is going up next month by 250% as is water.



How can I take on another family of 4 -----and yet how can I turn them away to sleep out in the open?

I am not asking you for money or a ticket out of here - I am asking you to FACE the fact that we are in deep and terrible danger and want you please to pass on our news and pictures. So PLEASE don't just press the delete button! Help best in the way that you know how.



Do face the reality of what is going on here and help us SEND OUT THE WORD.. The more people who know about it, the more chance we have of the United Nations coming to our aid. Please don't ignore or deny what's happening. Some would like to be protected from the truth BUT then, if we are eliminated, how would you feel? "If only we knew how bad it really was we could have helped in some way".

[I know we chose to stay here and that some feel we deserve what's coming to us]

For now,--- we ourselves have food, shelter, a little fuel and a bit of money for the next meal - but what is going to happen next? Will they start on our houses? All property is going to belong to the State now. I want to send out my Title Deeds to one of you because if they get a hold of those, I can't fight for my rights.



Censorship!----We no longer have SW radio [which told us everything that was happening] because the Government jammed it out of existence – we don't have any reporters, and no one is allowed to photograph. If we had reporters here, they would have an absolute field day. Even the pro-Government Herald has written that people are shocked, stunned, bewildered and blown mindless by the wanton destruction of many folks homes, which are supposed to be 'illegal' but for which a huge percentage actually do have licenses.



Please! - do have some compassion and HELP by sending out the articles and personal reports so that something can/may be done. "I am one. I cannot do everything, ---but I can do something.. And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do. What I can do, I should do. And what I should do, by the grace of God, I will do." - Edward Everett Hale

=====================================================================================


Again, my cynicism prevails that it'll not do much good but if we don't try...

Thank you.

IT REALLY IS NOW A WOMAN'S WORLD

Yes it is. Granted, at the top level of most business (and power), men still rule but at ground level, down with the common man (loosely speaking of course), you call the shots.
The modern man has devolved into this...well, I think a lyric from one of Pink, the singer's songs says it well. "I want a man by my side; not a boy who runs and hides". That's about the height of it.
I KNOW "men" who have to seek permission from their wives/girlfriends before they can go out.
So I've faced the very real possibility of saying to the wife/girlfriend, "can such and such come out?" It's...really...sad.
This "man's" life is a microcosm of the male life in general in 2008. At least in Australia but I've every reason to believe it's a global phenomenon.

Enter any bar in Australia and you'll find a group of males drinking together. All big stories; f this, f that, willing to fight with their shadow when they get a skinfull. Big tough drinkin blokes.
Insert into the mix, one wife/girlfriend of one of our big boofy blokes and just watch his testicles shrink as he realises 'she who must be obeyed' has arrived. I've seen this too! And it's equally as pathetic.

Not MY man, I've no doubt you'll plead; yes, your man too.

The years of female empowerment has arrived at this - interestingly enough, the occasion would seem to be on par with the apparent lack of 'men' in Sydney. It would appear you've become so equal that you've altered what defines a man. Well done! Now you're fucked - or maybe you're not - and that's the problem.

Advertisers know this - and act accordingly. In fact, car manufacturers have been directing their products' advertisements more and more at women these days. More and more previously male orientated ads are directed at women. There are two laughable ones from a company called Tyrepower which has a woman proudly boasting, "Am I a better driver than my husband - you bet!" She may in fact well be but that speaks more about the soft cock she's married to than any ability she may possess.
For example, there's a reason why women can't ride motorbikes fast - it has to do with testicles! Not simply nerve, or guts, or bravery, all of which women can and do possess. No, it's a ball thing.

The second one is the same woman saying, "I won't drive my husbands car - there's just no grip" (like a. the husband's too stupid to figure it out and b. she has ANY idea what the words on the script she's reading apply to...), "so I told him to say hello to our local Tyrepower pro" . Not asked, not suggested - TOLD. Because the dumb bloke if nothing else, knows better than to disobey.

The "Beaver" ad is another example of such empowerment. Crudity has long been the domain of the male; sex and body parts have been the subject of the male discourse for centuries.
Now this 'new woman' has no qualms about joining in. It seems everything that was once male dominated is now, in the name of equality, fair game. Foul language (which I admit is rich coming frome me but I'm a. an Ulsterman and it's what we do, and b. not a woman), vulgarity, public drunkeness - on occasion, violence. Is this really how you want to behave, girls? Really? So desperate to be accepted as an equal (which you can't, by virtue of mother nature's law) you're prepared to sacrifice the very thing that makes you the fairer sex?

That's quite some sacrifice.

Dear God!

I found this quote recently which sums it up quite well:


Women do not find it difficult nowdays to behave like men, but they often find it extremely difficult to behave like gentlemen


How has this come about...? Can it all be laid at the feet of Germaine Greer and her ilk? In some ways it's market driven - in that it's realistically doubled a previously male-dominated pasttime. The strident need to chase the dollar supersedes all else.

Y'see, some time ago, decent men realised that they were indeed, treating their fair counterparts like sex objects (though really, girls, who amongst you doesn't like to be desired - by many. Be honest... I know this to be a fact - and you know it too, and you now know I know it so don't EVEN try (wee bit of American there).
So anyway, reluctant to give up any of the actual power, they began to employ the "yes dear" tactic, lending the interpreted power to the put upon woman. This worked for quite some time - in fact I myself have occasioned such a tactic. She was empowered - and she nailed me good, woohoo - was great!

But at some point and here I haven't reached a full understanding of its origin, you lot took the reigns (where was I then? Good chance I was screaming round the Ulster countryside on my bike...). But I'd guess it was around the time of Sex in the City. That dire TV show where these vixens, Amazonions of the sexes prowled cities looking for meat. Dumber the better. As long as they could do the job...
...And slowly, inexorably tilted the scales. 'Cause you're a bit sneaky, you lot and while we weren't looking...

Women in the military; women truckers, (and believe me - they are just barely women) builders; even the female tennis players are now being paid the same as the males (despite playing half the games therefore spending half the time on court).
Encroaching evermore on the traditional world of men - all in the name of sexual equality. All of which results in a 'third' sex - this hybrid of she-men and he-women; men who spend more on cosmetics than their female counterparts and women who at a distance would be easily mistaken for men.
Blur wrote a song about it which had the lyric "girls who do girls; boys who do boys"...

The men who instigated this are now all dead or in their twilight years and the shift was apparently so slight, the following generations took their eye off the ball and here we are. A society of David Beckhams. Hybrids who use face cream, have their eyebrows plucked, and get counselling for breaking a nail! A world of boys living with their mummies. Obedient and afraid.
Hardly surprising then I feel superior to most men and seem to get on with most women better. I include 'most' as of course there are exceptions to this rule - but exceptions they are and the norm is as written.

Though it may appear that I'm a chauvinist, I am not - I love women; I don't, however, love feminists who I'm convinced simply need a good dickin' (pardon my vulgarity) to set them straight.
Some of these weirdos even demand they're not referred to as girls, or ladies - it must be woman, as if the word describes this independent, unrequiring of men Black Widow type.
Sacrificing even courtesy for this misplaced independence. "I am woman - I don't need you to hold the door for me. My security as a 'woman' is threatened by your insensitive assumption that I can't open my own door".

I mean, if you don't want me opening a door for you then fine - it's a pleasantry, y'moron - I do it for anyone, male or female, it doesn't matter.
It's called common bloody decency (a trait in ever shortening supply these days). And if you would rather hold it open for me then go right ahead but I'll be damned if when two people enter a room, one of them doesn't hold the door...!

HERE WE GO AGAIN FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!!

"Every country has its heroes", is the ad line for a new show on channel Nine. It refers to a show about firemen, and the associated film clip is of these "heroes" freeing a man's hand from some sort of grill/drain type thing. Is he stuck in a flooded drain like in an early episode of ER, the American TV show? No. He seems to be sitting on a chair in a kitchen, perfectly comfortable with a smile on his face.

And 2 or 3 'heroes' are standing about around him.

Wtf's heroic about that??? God! It's such a load of wank!!

WORLD YOUTH DAY

Seventy days to go, the sign on the M4 motorway tells us. Seventy days until around 200,000 'pilgrims' descend on Sydney's Royal Randwick racecourse. (They're calling themselves pilgrims but let's call a spade a spade - they're catholics okay!)

The course will be completely destroyed by 200,000 feet traipsing all over it and will have to be repaired at considerable cost before it can be used again.
Hyde park also is being taken over to accommodate these Papists. For toilets and food stalls. And this lovely park will have to be repaired too - at another significant cost.
And the initial cost of hosting this day, before any repairs...? Wait for it, 85 million, that's right, million dollars. Of taxpayers money, whether they're of that particular faith or not.

Nobody asked me if they could use that money - MY, (and the rest of NSW's taxpayer's) money. And considering that the catholic church has untold billions of dollars, I'm forced to ask - why the hell should I pay for it? (Of course, due to having to pay out 600 million dollars in the US to compensate the victims of its paedophillic priests, their coffers are a little reduced!)

The wee man in the funny hat's coming too and on that subject, I have yet another question...How does a member of Hitler's Nazi Youth get to become Pope? Yep, you heard right, His Holiness was an active member of the Nazi Youth. How does that happen? How does a Nazi become Pope???

And the front page of today's paper has the headline "Pope wants to say sorry". It refers to the Australian victims of his priests. Well mister, you can stick your sorrys in a sack, frankly. I don't want your sorry; nor your compensation. What I want is for you to stop your fucking depraved holy men buggering children to sate their fucking lust. Sick fucks!!

Now, you may think I have a grievance against catholics. I don't. Well, at least not per se. Nor is this apparent aggravation anything to do with the fact the Fenians have spent the last thirty years maiming and murdering as they blew apart Ulster (my homeland) in the name of so called independence from Britain.

No. It's about the fact that the Catholic faith relies purely on fear and ignorance to corral its followers, what with all the 'confession' and such.

So, first we have the Nobel Peace Prize losing all credibility on account of it being awarded to the Antichrist, Al Gore; then we have the Olympic Games losing ITS credibility because the Chinese have been awarded it (China's human rights record is woeful - think Tibet currently); and now we have a Pope who was a Nazi!

What next? Mugabe of Zimbabwe being given the key to the city???

I tell ye, if they built a fence round these 200,000 and locked them in it would solve a lot of the world's problems.

Tch! Catholicism.

NO MORE TANTRUMS

So says the headline.

What follows is a lot of blether about...don't know, it's blether. Blah blah expert this...blah blah expert that. I wonder does this "expert" actually have any children of his own...

Anyway, fast forward to the list of dos and don'ts.

1. Ask your child to repeat a set of supermarket behaviour rules before entering the store. (Yeah, that's right - talk to it like it's an adult - like it can understand. I've news for ye - as soon as you enter the shop, once it sees all that's on offer you may well have spoken Chinese!)

2. Praise good behaviour and give them a treat and the end of each tantrum-free shopping trip. (Maybe a pat on the head and a belly scratch! Roll over boy).

3. Have your child help with retrieving items or hold the shopping list at the supermarket. (Be prepared for it bringing back everything shiny that appeals to it).

4. Reward your child with a sticker once each supermarket aisle is completed if they haven't misbehaved. (A sticker? Pulease!)

5. Take regular shopping trips with your child to teach them how to behave.


There is one vital action that seems to have been forgotten here. We'll call it 6.

Give the wee bastard a whallop!!! A whack speaks a thousand words. Trust me - I know!

**

Of course, if you're a nurse of some twenty years experience and you smack an unruly child in your emergency dept, then you can expect suspension and an investigation by both the police and DOCS (Dept of Children's Services) as happened to Jeanette Stewart in an Australian hospital. (Same paper - a few pages before the "Tantrum" piece).

Y'know, I remember the time when the police, teachers, and your average sister(nurse) often gave out a whallop to kids who were getting out of control. And it did the kid in question not a bit of harm. Quite the contrary actually, it taught the wee bastard some manners.

And I ask again...is it any wonder kids have zero respect nowdays? Simply because the bleeding hearts refuse to allow the sort of chastisement that in my day brought them into line and taught them that there were just some things that weren't acceptable.

Jesus is still weeping!

SEX SELLS, BUT TO WHOM EXACTLY...

There’s an advertisement for a fashion show on currently, and in advertising this event, we the viewers are presented with a pair of juggling tits! Of course they’re wrapped in a (green I think, or blue - there was a pattern I'm sure) bikini but believe me, it takes second stage to the juggling, and oh so perfect, mammaries. (Juggling because the model is ster-RUTTing her arse with purpose down the runway with the obligatory detached yet defiant scowl – not that we get to see much of the scowl because the camera veritably zooms into the rather animated breasts).
Such places are for the rich - except on TV.
In the very next ad a large “store” is the subject – its specific ware, some kind of woman’s top – for mother’s day, no less. (…Isn’t that, like, blasphemy or something…?) In this we’re offered a young woman fair bounding with glee at her…well, great life I suppose. (Great, am happy for her). Through the French doors she comes, onto the fashionable sofa, sunlight enlightening her surrounds, all creams and bright colours. Laughing and smiling as they do. (Ya! I get it, can we move on…?).
She’s wearing the top in question. And ensheathed, gloriously, in this top is the most spectacular breast(s) I’ve seen in many a year – complete with visible nipple. (It’s all about the nipple, we know this already, right?). I say breast (singular) cause although they both are spectacular only one has the visible…protuberance and thus commands the lion's share of attention. Note: This is no mistake – no oversight; the producers know exactly what they’re doing. (...Wonder was it luck or was there any...manipulation...? Call it insurance. I'LL have that job!)
And I, in the name of science of course, am an expert on breasts and what constitutes such expertise (firmness, symmetry etc.).
So I ask – towards whom is the ad directed? Bear in mind, 65% or so of Australian women are considered overweight or obese (higher for men).

The, realistically, 10% who could actually pull it off without major surgery? Okay. Not much of a market though.

Or maybe the bush pig, with tits like John Wayne’s saddlebags.Though it’ll take a bit more than a cotton top and erect nipple to withhold these bad boys I’d wager…more like a horse sling!
So I fail to see how that would persuade those individuals to buy one. Unless of course they’re disillusioned bushpigs, which most are, now you mention it… but surely not, “hey, if I buy that top, my hooters, which are currently resting on my knees like bunker sandbags’ll look like that”.

Or maybe it’s directed at the beer-swilling, tattooed and thong-wearing* slob husband who thinks that purchasing this top will magically transform his heap of flesh into something NOT resembling the aforementioned bacon sandwich. But that idiot’ll do as he’s told whether he likes it or not, so…

Nah, this is pure, unadulterated titillation, arguably bordering on soft porn.

...So it must be directed at yours truly then!

To conclude:

If you are going to employ such blatant titillation, then you lose all rights to any objection if I respond lecherously! I’m a man. This is what I want. God made me this way.


*Type of 'footwear' in Oz

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

"The Chinese understand that the ACT police is responsible for all security for the torch relay. They (the Chinese) have no role to play. I can't be any more clearer about it"


-ACT Police Chief Michael Phelan, responding to the Chinese attempt to assert their own control of the Olympic Torch Relay in all countries and beautifully illustrating the high standard of the the ACT Police Force's entrance examination.

******PLEASE GIVE THIS YOUR IMMEDIATE ATTENTION*****

I received this from a colleague of mine 20 minutes ago...

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""




In the 2007, the 'artist' Guillermo Vargas Habacuc, took a dog from the
>
> >street, he tied him to a rope in an art gallery, starving him to death.

For several days, the 'artist' and the visitors of the exhibition have
> >watched emotionless the shameful 'masterpiece' based on the dog's
> >agony, until eventually he died. Does it look like art to you?
> >
> >But this is not all ... the prestigious Visual Arts Biennial of the
> >Central American decided that the 'installation' was actually art, so
> >that Guillermo Vargas Habacuc has been invited to repeat his cruel
> >action for the biennial of 2008.
> > >
> > Let's STOP HIM!!!!!
> > >
> >Click on the following link :
> >http://www.petitiononline.com/ea6gk/petition-sign.html
> > >
> >> or
> >>
> > > http://www.petitiononline.com/13031953/petition.html or just copy
> >it in your browser to sign a petition to stop him to do it again, then
> >digit the name Guillermo Vargas Habacuc to find the petition to sign.
> > >
> >Please also send this e-mail to as many contact as you can... Let's
> >stop him!!!
> > >
> >If you want to double check all the above information you can google
> >the name of the 'artist' to see all I have just said corresponds to
> >truth.
> > >
> > > Thank you
>
END


My colleague tells me it's disgusting and I believe her. I just can't look - I'm unsure I'd be able to control my response.

...Frankly, my cynicism evokes doubt that it'll have any effect at all - these things rarely stop the machine, but...if even a chance...I've lived with two of these beloved animals for eight years. Nothing deserves this - except the MF "artist", his paymasters and every MF there who looks on.

"Oh daaarling, I just lovvve the way he creates the torment of the beast".

...Yeah, I'd beat that motherfucker to death!



Setting my rage aside; please give it your attention. Imagine it was your dog.

Thank you.

Muttars

EARTH HOUR... ZZZZ... ...

Well. It's eight o clock; it's the 29th of March -- and every light in my house (including the fridge door being left open) in on! Woohoo!

TV, stereo, laptop - all on. Oh - and the air-con.

How are you suckers doin', sittin' there in the dark? A spike in the conception rate will occur no doubt. Then you can say, "ooh, wittle Apple, or Posy (or some other such ridiculous 'Earth mama' name) was conceived during "Earth Hour". Why hold back, why not keep and name the placenta - y'freaks? "Inspiration of daughter" perhaps?

And back to your office building tomorrow that uses enough energy to power a small island! Secure in the knowledge you've done 'your bit' to combat an event over which we have absolutely zero effect.

Furthermore, despite the proclamations of concern for 'our planet', it now comes second to the reason we do anything. Wealth, and power. And with the kind of figures we're dealing with here, (more billions) and it's global commitment... pockets are being filled, rest assured of that.

More cynicism you say? You'd be right. Doesn't negate anything I say though.

It's defined as
1: the belief that people always act from selfish motives (in 'people' I speak of the Antichrist, Gore and his underlings) and,
2: a person who raises doubts about something (there are as many who dispute Gore's laughable and fodder of morons, theory, ME being one of them).

So-ooo...lights on! Finger extended!

SPEAKING OF "ONLY IN AMERICA”…

Pastor Benny Hinn. Or rather, Benny Hinn, Ministeries.

I mentioned a while back, the kind of TV I’m offered at 4am on a given morning. Mainly infomercials and Christian TV.

Pastor Benny, as he’s oft referred to in the name of familiarity (so you’ll be more likely to get your money out – but we’ll get to that later…) is the subject of one such program.
I came in from walking the Boys after work and switched on the TV as a matter of course.
Actually I was first presented with Victoria Principal’s…secret…something or other (one of the infomercials). Basically some super cream that reverts the user to her teenage years - least that’s what it sounds like listening to the raft of happy customers paraded on the ad.

So I hopped, 'cause I don't need face cream, 'cause I'm not gay – and happened on Pastor Benny flogging his books, “What God Wants You To Do With Your Money” or God's Plan For Your Money and the ubiquitous “Way to…” brand (…have success, make money, be happy etc.)
And that’s not all. Pastor Benny, it seems, is taking what amounts for all intents and purposes, a world tour. Several dates in the US (obviously), then a few in Europe no less, then over to Indonesia. Go Benny. Sounds awfully familiar. Didn't Gore swan the globe selling his message...?

Now, call me cynical if you want (and if you do I'll tell y'what - you send your 30 bucks...), but our Benny offers us his book free – for only a 30 bucks US “gift” to… not sure, didn’t watch that closely, presumably some “poor person” somewhere.
But in the small print at the end credits of the show (end credits eh – that’s movin' with the times!), in small print buried amongst all the nonsense about the IRS and such, it says something to the effect of… (damn, what was it – an exercise in mental dexterity, recalling the fine print of anything) “Benny Hinn industries reserves the right to use funds for alternative means – not necessarily the advertised charitable organization. Or words to that effect.

Hmmm…ALLEGEDLY (just in case the good Pastor’s in the vicinity and I haven't got it verbatim…)
He had a guest on too, as a matter of fact; a silver-haired boyo, telling us that we were different to the rest, that our desire for wealth came from a higher plane – a just plane

*Good grief, I just hopped again and saw a headline on NBC News which said "God Goes Green". The reporter’s soundbite I heard was informing of a new, 11th commandment.
"Renew, resuse, recycle". What must the Big Man be thinkin'...?
See,,,SEE… I bloody NEW Gore was the Antichrist!*


Anyway, the good Pastor's on again tomorrow morning so I'll have another look. See if this poor sinner can repent.

EARTH DAY

That's right, the 29th of March I believe. Everyone's being encouraged to turn off ALL lights at 2000 (8PM) on this date to...I don't know...save the planet or some other such bollocks.
Sounds like the work of the Antichrist, Gore, another one of his dumb ideas. What, is he getting all the carbon credits to offset the huge amount he burns whilst flying the globe in his private jet exploiting the suckers? Or maybe it's to offset the electricity bill for his McMansion...

1/ What...a load...of shit
2/ Come 2000 in my house I'm switchin on every mf light I can find. Radio, TV, even the microwave (mind you, I have to get one of those!)

Earth day indeed. Gimme a fuckin break!!

THE BEAVER AD

Oh man, hohoho...

In one of those "Naked Gun" films, there's a line Leslie Neilson says while Priscilla Presley is up a ladder looking for...a book I think, if memory serves.

"Nice beaver", he deadpans (as only he can do), the obvious connotation being the sexual reference. Then the camera cuts to an actual beaver on top of the shelf.

Hehe heh - funny stuff. Toilet humour I know, but funny nonetheless.

Aaaanyway - in the Daily Rag I came across the following headline:

"Viewers damn the beaver ad"

Kotex, the tampon company has aired this ad where an attractive young woman spends the day traipsing around with her pet beaver (hoho, even as I write...). She (they) goes to lunch, then to the hairdressers to get their nails done, then get gawked at by men on a beach (stupid fuckin paper doesn't clarify whether the men or our stars are on the beach, however...).
The ad concludes with the voice over,

"You've only got one so for the ultimate care, make it U" ("U" must be the product name I suppose). The woman then hands the beaver a packet of tampons as a gift.

LMMFAO!!! Ahahahahaha. Where do I see this ad?

Those with the delicate wittle minds complained. Says Alison Abernathy, ASB (Avertising Standards Board) chief, "A lot of complaints came in over the weekend".
(Shouldn't have a woman in this position for a start - they're too emotional and over-sensitive - and easily offended, thereby negating the objectiveness required for a level view - but that's for another post...
The rag quotes Penny Warneford who apparently is "helping" to run the campaign as saying the product range targeted the 18-24 year olds who often had euphemisms for their genitals (as y'do!).

The whiners want it pulled.

Only in Australia. It used to be America, to which the term was applied; mind you, America's boast was one of having the most freaks (still holds that title I'm sure); Australia's is one of whiners.

The old joke goes:
Q: "How many Australians does it take to dig a hole?
A: "10. One to dig the hole and nine to create a "people against the hole" committee".

And true to form, the complaint lines have been inundated with the aforementioned whiners, bleating on about how offensive the ad is.

Why don't you lot just fuck off and get a life! You make me want to defecate!

FUCKING VODAFONE!!

Stay tuned - Vodafone is next to face my ire...mfs!

WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN SEE THIS...?

Page fifteen of the Daily Rag carries a small piece concerning our glorious leader, Prime Minister Kevin Rudd's plan to combat the ever increasing pasttime of binge drinking amongst "our young people". (Hate that term - and they're not MY young anything...).
He calls it a "no holds barred" campaign, with the purpose of "scaring the living daylights" (or words to that effect) out of the kids who think it cool to sink piss ad infinitum.
Fine words, Kev; seemingly noble sentiments. Except:

Page fourteen of the same Rag is completely devoted to cheap piss - the entire page (that's the knucklehead editor for you, placing these adjacent to one another. Too busy licking the arses of the politicians and powerbrokers to notice, I expect...).

In this holiest time of the Christian calendar, the piss companies (in this case a seller called BWS - Beer, Wine and Spirits), have advertised their own campaign. Called, "Bucks Bunny", complete with big bunny ears, the advert offers (in huge letters) $5 Five bucks off your next purchase (as long as that purchase is drinkable!).

Smaller print underneath says, "Purchase any of these special offers and receive a $5 BWS voucher to spend on your next purchase of participating products". I.e. more piss!

Under this offer it shows pictures of cases, that's CASES of beer with "save $9" or "save $20" as well as the "+$5 bucks off voucher".

And that's not all. Beneath the cases we have the hard stuff. Vodka, whiskey, bourbon, rum, and something called "Jagermiester liquer". Obviously German or Austrian or something like that - and they make powerful piss.
Beside those, the wines. All with the "voucher", just in case, A case or two and a few bottles isn't enough!

Moreover, they then have the audacity to add - at the bottom, "We take responsible service of alcohol seriously".

Then why am I laughing?

So Kev, my suggestion would be that just maybe you do something about the piss companies practically GIVING away piss, and society's attitude to non drinkers as having something wrong with them before you spend my tax dollars for some dickhead in an advertising agency to flex his creative muscle!

AND TOMORROW ON SUNRISE...

"...we ask, "should four-wheel drive vehicles be taxed separately for driving on our city streets?"

... ... ...don't know quite where to begin with this one. I KNOW it shits me, this whole sanctimony-riddled-opinion attitude. And I know I have a 4x4 ute whose "handiness" nullifies all question.

Sunrise is this "made for the masses" morning show full of happy, smiling faces. Bright colours, light entertainment. Boner inspiring women too actually - that could be just me...!
...Talking about "our world" and generally rattling on about how we should be nice to one another, and wringing their hands at the injustices of society - (most of, if not all of which is mercenary in that they're paid for what they say, a la script. Like radio hosts, their truthfulness of speech is questionable).

All shiny teeth and perfect hair, quick with a giggle or a quip, relishing in "Sandra from Whittlesea's" email, concerning her garden snail on her azaleas.

In the words of Vivian, from The Young Ones, that wonderfully irreverent TV show of the seventies, when they're parodying another show of the era, The Good LIfe - "it's all so bloody nice!". H goes on to rip the paper screen down, revealing himself and his crusty housemates (Rick, pronounced Rwick, Neil the hippy, amd Mike, the "normal" one).

Which would all be well and good were it not for the fact that, like the waiters/resses in any American town, whose words of greeting are largely and predominantly a training result, with the ultimate aim being of the customer returning - with their wallet, obviously.

Now that niceness is infringeing on my life. Bastard! Just fuck off, right!

Mine is a working ute, not a North Shore mother's fucking status symbol. If this proposed law had been in effect the last six months, I'd have been well stuck...it carries things often, things that couldn't be carried in anything else, save a truck. As ute's do, and it goes to places where the four-wheel factor is required.




All my protestations aside, I think it's coming - eventually. Hopefully after the point I no longer care.

OPEN LETTER TO ALL MOGGIES IN THE WOLONDILLYSHIRE

Your swanning about the neighbourhood like you own it, secure in the knowledge that all the dogs are safely ensconsed behind locked gates or tethered to their fat masters, is at an end.

The Boys are in town.

Therefore let it be known, any scrawny cat found on the street while the Boys are patrolling is fair game.


The amnesty of the past two weeks (which was ample time for you to get outa town) ends at midnight on the 6th of March - that was last night btw, and one of your crew found out tonight to its surprise. (Heh heh - go Scoob!)


You have been warned...be afraid - be very afraid.


By order of the Boys' management.

LIFE'S FUNNY

It's also remarkable, the simple pleasure one can get from hanging out the washing.

MUTTARS' NEW HOME

Greetings from the Wolondilly Shire. After six months living in the back of my ute, I've eventually secured a new home (after too many false starts).

A little 2-bedder with air-cons and a chimney; no fire but that's okay, I can put one in if necessary. The air-con is reverse cycle so it's not a pressing issue (plus it's hot as a mf at the minute). A car port and a garage for the dirtbike, and more importantly, I can get it out for a blast. Video to follow.

Woohoo! I have a sofa and TV again. And shower, toilet etc. And let me tell ye, not having 24/7 access to a toilet is flirting with constipation constantly. You just need to see the "boss of the body" joke to understand how debilitating that can be.

But that's in the past; Muttars is regular again. (Too much information?)

Anyway, I'm in.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

BLOODY SCOOB

Damnit! Left the butter out again and Scoob scoffed the whole lot! His cholesterol must be through the roof and he'll have the scoots. More importantly, no butter for toast - nightmare!

KALAHARI

It's remarkable, y'know, the kind of TV one watches when not offered the chance of "light entertainment". Which was my diet often before what has now become know as "The collapse".

One legacy (amongst many) of the collapse, is the absence of satellite TV - you'll remember the bastards at Austar - on which I watched said light entertainment. With 40 channels I still found myself bored with the offerings on occasion and resorted to sit-coms etc.

Well now I don't have satellite and let me tell ye - there is very little on the commercial channels worth a look in the wee hours of the morning (which is when I get home from work). Christian TV, infomercials and this desperate grab for cash, The Mint - a truly woeful show where these speedtalkers (who also happen to be rather attractive) just, much like radio, abhor dead air and do everything but get naked to convince thew viewer to ring the 1900 number.

So I've been watching ABC; which is...educational at least. Am currently watching a show on the Kalahari. Seems like paradise.
The eagles have arrived due to the abundance of fish in the panhandle. Majestic they are - and powerful. Lifting themselves out of the water after losing a fight with a competitor for the air takes a great amount of effort and the bird's whole body shakes in unison as the great wings hoist it into the air.

Crocodiles, elephants, antelope. Insects, mice, fish that can breath air and walk with the aid of specially formed gills.
And herds of buffalo; meaning the carnivores won't be far behind. As if on cue, the lions have arrived, swaggering into town with the self assurance that comes with the king of beasts.

And they make a kill; they do it by suffocation so the buffalo just waits to die with the jaws of a lioness clamped round its throat. I always find that sad but hey, the lions have to eat too (and they don't have Burger King in the Kalahari!).

And one only has to see the lioness licking clean her clubs, to forget any feelings of abhorrence at the brutality of the kill.

The giraffes are next in the sights of the cameraman, along with baboons.

Now fire arrives; and consumes the delta. Thousands of slow, young and infirm animals die in the ensuing inferno. The lioness who earlier showed brutality in the kill, then tenderness with her cubs is now searching for them. They're hiding place was torched in the blaze.

Often this would end in disaster but whether fact, or by the hands of the film maker, we see the little cubs rediscover their mother.

The Garden of Eden.

The cycle of life.

JOKE OF THE WEEK

I was out walking the Boys the other night when I saw my mate walking down the street with a girl on his back.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked.
"Going to a fancy dress party", he replied.
"Fancy dress, eh", I said, "What are you going as?"
"A tortoise", he replied, tipping his head towards the girl on his back. "This is Michelle!"

WHY CATS ARE BASTARDS/DOGS ROCK

BASTARD CATS

1. They don't fetch
2. They shit in corners where it lies stinking for days until you locate it.
3. They have no understanding of loyalty
4. They have slaves not owners
5. They torture their prey rather than just killing it.
6. They roam the neighbourhood freely like they own it.
7. They bugger up furniture when they sharpen their claws.
8. They won't protect aforementioned slaves
9. They run away at the first sign of trouble
10. For all intents and purposes they're effectively useless.


ROCKING DOGGIES

1. They most certainly do fetch (well, one of mine at least; the other catches then chews to bits)
2. They shit in the middle of the floor where you can find it and clean away immediately
3. They are the epitome of loyalty and demonstrate it every day.
4. They have masters to whom they devote themselves.
5. When they kill (which is a rarity in itself) it's as quick as nature permits with no self-indulgent torture.
6. They only chew things when they're puppies and too cute to get mad at.
7. They protect their master to the death.
8. They're first to jump in in defence of their master.
9. They're forced to be leashed at virtually all times due to the nature of the "masters' masters".
10. For all intents and purposes, having a doggie is good for a man

ASK THE EXPERT

WHY WE YAWN

This was a question posed by a radio jock the other day as part of a listeners' questions segment - sort of, ask the expert. Unfortunately they couldn't find an expert to answer this one so Dr Muttars will step up and clarify.

First, consider how we yawn. We open our mouth and start to inhale. The mouth opens wider an wider until it reaches almost breaking point at times, simultaneously drawing breath in deeper and further into the lungs than normal, culminating in a huge draw as the chest cavity expands to its furthest, (similar in fact, to how we'd breath after vigorous exercise - and with the same result).

This whole sequence effects in energizing the blood. The body when tired (and at rest, which is when we yawn), slows down. Therefore the blood flow slows as well, reducing its capacity to deliver oxygen to the muscles and further exacerbating the the feeling of sloth (which effects the yawn in the first place).

The whole inhalation of a great amount of oxygen, with the resulting effect, is...why we yawn.

Any other questions...?

THE "IT" FACTOR

From the Daily Rag, a small article entitled "Cars to attract women".
A womens' motoring website surveyed women about their motoring turn-ons and apparently the myth that fast expensive cars are "it" has been debunked.

In a survey of the sexiest cars and their male drivers, the results are as follows:

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, the Porches, Lamborghinis, Ferraris etc. are considered sleazy and pretentious (I wouldn't drive one of those if you paid me quite frankly - in fact, if I had the sort of money required for such a vehicle, it'd go straight towards a house - or two - and a garage full of shit hot motorbikes, and a boat - and a hooker every weekend for the rest of my life but hey, that's just me!).

Mini drivers are considered gay (hoho, no surprise there - matter of fact all tiny wee cars are a bit gay!). Toyota, Volvo and Rolls Royce drivers were considered to be already married and therefore off the market. (Yeah right - the surveyor obviously isn't considering affairs and those women with no scruples).

The website's founder, a Juliet Potter, said, "we hate to break it to men, but that expensive Ferrari isn't going to buy them street cred with the ladies. Neither is a Lamborghini or Porsche". Damn, that's it, I'm selling mine!

So what is the mosts desirable car then. This is a little surprising to me:

In first place is the Range Rover and according to the survey, this vehicle (and driver) is "Hot, sexy, stylish - definitely someone you want to marry".

In third is a BMW/Mercedes: "never say no to a man in a a Beemer or Merc" (Right enough the 3 series Beemer is a great car -not sure about the Merc but I'm aware of their status).

Fourth place goes to the Audi (another great car) which is considered "classy,m practical and stylish. A great catch".

An languishing in fifth is the Volkswagen which is described as "middle of the road - a woman's car".

I left out second place as you can see; I left it til now because it's the humble workhorse that is the mighty ute (woohoo). And it's beats hands down any wanker Porsche or Lambo!
It's driver is described as, "dependable, capable, muscular and toned. Sexy. A practical man who is able to take control if necessary.
Heh heh, guess what yours truly owns? (You don't have to guess - there's a pic of it on the blog, with a bitchin' WR 426 dirtbike on the back and my two mutts). Yep! A ute - and not just any ute either, a 4x4 turbo deisel ute!

So there y'go ladies, line up, make your choice...!

Suddenly I feel like a diet Coke...

IS IT ANY WONDER...

...I fuckin hate kids – well, not all kids but most of them...

I was at a house today, one I’m considering buying; it’s a dump, and therein lies its beauty, for after I lay my rather inventive hands on it, it has every chance of being a jewel.
Anyway, I’m at this place looking it over and talking with the agent, (the only agent so far who seems honest…);it’s occupied by what my Antipodean hosts oft refer to rather cruelly as a “fat bush pig”. Unfortunate woman. And stupid too no doubt as with her are four offspring around the ages of 10 to 13ish.
We’re in the kitchen when suddenly one of the brats runs in, “mister, mister, one of your dogs is outside your ute”.
I know this, it’s Scoob; he can’t help himself – just has to know what’s goin on, but I’m prepared for it from months of experience and I have him tethered so whilst he can leave the ute, he can’t go very far.
“I know”, I say to the kid, “he’s tied up”.
The kid turns and runs out. As he does so I say, loudly and clearly, “Don’t go near him”, then as an afterthought, louder, in case in his haste, he didn’t hear, “STAY AWAY FROM HIM!”.
I finish my conversation and return to the stoop outside – where I see all four of the wee bastards, hovering round Scoob, who’s being Scoob – pleasant, tail wagging, unagressive. The picture of placidity.
However, I know the risk. That one of them might inadvertently pat Scoob’s behind (or that general region). Scoob doesn’t like that, right or wrong he just doesn’t and even I can barely get away with it so strangers…?
Soon enough they move away though and with panic averted I relax a bit and return again to my conversation with the agent.
Next time I look, two of the wee fuckers have their noses stuck through the window of the ute having a good look.
“HEY!” I shout, “GET YOUR NOSE OUTA THERE!”
The two wee bastards look at me with pure insolence on their face, seemingly so out of control that they’d been a while since being spoken to that way.
They begrudgingly withdrew. I left.


How about you control your fuckin offspring love?

Is it any wonder...?

KOKODA TRAIL

In brief, the Kokoda Trail is a 2nd World War trail in Indonesia that has been held sacrosanct by Australians as the "final line" as it were. The falling of this line apparently would hgave seen the invasion of Australia by the Japanese.
Many brave men died protecting this trail.
Now, it seems a mining company wants to dig it up in search of more profits.


And they will - because money talks!

RAY WHITE #3

In light of Gordy getting his wife/mother to defend him I thought maybe I'll get my Ma to defend me hoho . (Don't wanna fuck with my Ma, believe me and I don't have a wife!)

Battle of the mothers or the mother of all battles hehe!


Handbags at the ready...


Hey, what's good for the goose...

RAY WHITE #2

Well, it seems wittle Gordon has got his wife (or mother) to reply to my email and blog. I received it today; she also denies what he said. Mind you she wasn't there so how she could know...
Wittle Gordy has obviously lied to her as well. Does the man have NO scruples? Lying to his wife/mother...tut-tut.

Well, Gordy's wife/mother, let me tell you, as one who was ACTUALLY there, what was said:

I asked Gordon, about two lines into the description if pets were permitted. He answered in the affirmative - and it was a yes/no answer so I don't see how I could, as he put it in his office later - misunderstand.
He has lied and cheated and furthermore, I booked a day off for moving (for which I don't get paid) but now I find myself drifting with nothing to do as my shift was covered.
So his lies and deceit have actually cost me money.

Oh and re: not working for me anymore, Ms McVicar. Don't know if you noticed but I DUMPED you; not the other way. And I'm dumping Ray White NZ in terms of selling my NZ apartment and I will gladly tell them why!
You WILL regret such behaviour - mark my words.

RAY WHITE REAL ESTATE

I had decided, after considering the market of late and what lay in it's future re: interest rate rises (one today - possibly 3 or 4 to come) to rent a place while I kept an eye on things.

So I called the above named agent and spoke with a man called Gordon. He told me of a house for rent and was no more than two sentences into the description when I said quite clearly, "Gordon, listen - and this will be the make or break of the decision, am I allowed my two pets in with me?"

"What type are they?" He asked.
"Border Collies", I answered.
"Nice dogs, yeah that'll be alright"

Over the next few days, I made my arrangements and today I called to confirm the agreed occupation date of today at 1500 (they wanted to clean it professionally apparently). I was informed by Betty, the secretary, that yes, it was a go for that time.
So after breakfast I went to the bank and retrieved the rental bond and a months rent, then to the storage unit to pick up a few things for the house.
Then. merrily, headed for my new home via the realtor's office to complete the official paperwork...
...during which time a piece of small print was pointed out to me. No pets it said. It was like I'd been punched in the gut. I was told in my original conversation with the untrustworthy Gordon, that I COULD have my pets inside. I now suspect the slimy little man was of the opinion that he'll just agree to anything to get my patronage, then hope after I've gone to considerable trouble, I'll just acquiesce and agree.

Sneaky wee fucker!
I've news for you Gordy, I will never abandon my Boys.

And you have just demonstrated again the levels to which you people (and by "you people" I quite obviously mean Real estate agents) will go in search of business. Lie, deceive, manipulate.

Nothing's beneath you it would seem.

TWO NUN JOKES

JOKE ONE


Two nuns are sitting at traffic lights in their car when all of a sudden a demon appears crouched on the vehicle bonnet* right in front of them.
The younger of the two panics, "oh no, mother superior, what will we do, what will we do" she cried.
"It's okay, calm down, just show him your cross".

With that the younger nun stuck her head out the window and screamed with as much rage she could muster - "Get off my fucking bonnet you hideous bastard!"


*"Hood" to the Americans*




Joke Two:

Two nuns are sitting on a park bench doing what nuns do, when all of a sudden a flasher appears and whips open his trench coat right in front of them.

One of the first nuns had a stroke - the other couldn't reach.

HOHO, M'WEE MAN...

I refer to Mutley, not my weener just in case any of you have your minds in the gutter.

Regular readers will remember the story about Scoob (m' big man) slamming his face into the dirt whilst chasing a tweety bird.
Well, not to be outdone by his brother, Mutley demonstrated his own "pirouette" as it were (whilst also chasing birds - though these were bigger magpies as opposed to the little tweety birds).
And also, rain played a part in this one too...

On the same walk there's a place where the road is on a raised section with a decline to the left which bottoms in a gully through which water flows. It's very overgrown with grass too and obscures the "lie of the land" as it were as Mutley discovered rather ingloriously.
In short, both my Boys saw the magpies and bolted after them down the hill; reaching the bottom, Scoob managed to cross with no problem but Mutley (lmao - oh man, the memory) it seems must have misfooted and by some sequence of events went completely head over arse.
LMMFAO!!!!!
Seriously. Man, I thought Scoob's fall was funny (which it was) but this...hoho, m'poor wee man didn't know what hit him. One minute he's bolting after the bird - next he's upside down feet pawing the air in a vain attempt to right himself with me laughing at him.
This one saw me on my knees too (even had to set my coffee down); luckily the dreaded lurgy has left me so I didn't "nearly die on the street" this time - just laughed like a madman!

Man, I love my Boys.

JOKE OF THE WEEK

Two old tramps are shuffling down the street one day in no particular hurry. One starts to sniff the air and turns to his buddy and says,
"Hey Barney, did you shit your pants?"

"No", replied his old friend.

They continue walking; still the tramp smells the odour so he asks again, "Are you sure you didn't shit your pants coz I can smell it from here".
Barney sniffs as well and thinks; then he says, "Oh, I thought you meant TODAY!"

KUDOS TO MRS COTTIER

Clementine Cuneo, at the behest of her editor at the Daily Rag no doubt has written a piece about a young boy who was, and I quote, “horribly scarred by the family dog”.
The accompanying picture shows the boy with a relatively deep gash above his eye and several superficial scratches that will heal in time with no long lasting effect.
Yet another “dog attack”.

Why did it happen? Well, according to the mother of the boy, “it’s not like the dog picked him up and shook him or anything like that, she just snapped at him for pulling on her ears.
So, in fact what has occurred here is yet another example of a wee bastard treating an animal like its favourite plaything.

And the animal reacted to probably some pain as its ears were pulled this way and that.
Enter the poisonous wee dwarf (and convicted drunk driver) Steve Price of radio 2UE in Sydney who has led the charge to have the animal destroyed. That comes as no surprise to me, despicable little man that he is – in both size and character!

Thankfully, the woman who owns the dog is having none of it and as the incident occurred at her home the police can do nothing about it.
“She’s a good dog, I’ve never had any problems with her before and I don’t think its her fault”. The boy agreed – “I love Cassey”, he said.
The youngster and the dog have played together many times before and on this occasion it was a case of “one tug too many”.
The woman said, “Noah was lying all over her (the wee bastard – my words not hers) and he started pulling her ears. I told him not to or she’d get cranky”.
But wee bastards being wee bastards, he just ignored her and persisted.
“Normally, when she (Cassey) has had enough, she walks away from him but this time she snapped and bit him on his face”.

I’ve written of this many times. If you have young children in your home that has a dog, for God’s sake keep the wee bastards away from them or at the very least teach them that they’re not fucking toys!
What, are you slow learners or something? Shall I speak slower?

NEWS JUST IN...

"Shark catches man".


While fishing of the coast of Queensland, (the Gold Coast as it happens), a fisherman, (you know, one of those types with the tiny weener who 'fish' to compensate), caught a mako shark and hauled it aboard his vessel.
However, understandably upset at being ripped from the ocean by a hook in its mouth, the majestic creature swung round and latched on to the mans leg. Haha - that'll tighten 'im!
It only released when the man's deckhands cut off its head.

Pity it couldn't have reached the asshole's neck!

HEH HEH, THIS MADE ME LAUGH/SPLUTTER/NEARLY DIE ON THE STREET

I have a cold/virus/flu type thing that's making me feel pretty rough.Runny nose, sore throat/muscles/head etc.

But trooper that Muttars is, he struggles on - that and the fact he needs the money!

Anyway, what has this to do with making you laugh I hear you ask (very faintly and in fact maybe you're not asking - maybe you're not even here - maybe I'm just pretending I have readers...anyway). *Can we get on with it?Ed.*

Righto, so, I'm out walking the Boys in my usual spot. This usual spot sees us pass a particu;lar tree that must house a family of tweety birds who protest vehemently to our presence in the form of "divebombing" Scoob and tweeting loudly (awww, it's so cute). At the start Scoob didn't realise and would crane his neck this way and that to see where the noise was coming from. Didn't take long to figure out and soon he was prepared for the assault.
To the point that now he'll chase the tweety birds every time and here we get to the bit that saw me laughing/spluttering/nearly dying on the street.
It has rained a lot recently here and the ground is sodden and very slippery. The big fella obviously didn't notice as he rocketed after the wee bird, which was wheeling and sailing through the air in their inimitable fashion (birds in flight amaze me - I truly find it a wonder and why I'm disgusted at anyone putting them in a cage).
So Scoob takes off full pelt on the sodden grass, chasing after the wee bird which he has no chance of catching. The bird which seems to me is having fun suddenly turns sharply and Scoob tries to follow but the ground gives way and he loses all traction from his front end hoho.
Straight into the dirt face first he goes hahaha, with an audible "unnnngh".

I immediately start to howl with laughter, quickly followed by a coughing fit that drops me to my knees as the dreaded lurgy reminds me that its not yet ready to leave me despite my prone attempt to eject it from my chest.

Think maybe Scoob had the last laugh.

TO SMACK OR NOT TO SMACK

Says the first line of the article entitled "Parents strike back" in the Daily Rag today.
It goes on to say that "frazzled parents have inundated a new State Government hotline for help on how to punish their unruly children". (This is the Government whose "governing" is woefully inadequate - sort of like the wolf minding the sheep).
Joe Tucci, of the Australian Childhood Foundation says, "Parents feel smacking doesn't work and prefer not to use physical punishment but are not sure what to put in its place".

For the record: according to the Community Services Minister, Kevin Greene, the law doesn't stop parents smacking children, but is designed to make sure the children are protected from serious harm".

Of course no-one could agree with punching or kicking a child - that's simply abuse, but a smack on the rear end doesn't even come close to abuse.
One only needs to look closely at the face of a child after he/she's been smacked to see that the effect is one of shock. The child can almost been seen thinking, "what was that!" Followed by the swift realisation that the thing they just did was the cause and that if they don't do it again they won't be smacked again. It's called learning. A 4 year old for example can't be explained to the dangers of "sticking his/her hand in the fire". But the risk still exists so the parent's only option is to make the child fear the repercussions of the act more than the act itself.

But no, the do-gooders are all for banning any sort of physical punishment, grouping a loving smack in with serious abuse.
The result of course is that kids now get away almost literally with murder. Kids "divorcing" parents, running amok, carrying on without any fear of recrimination.
All because some no mark (probably a vegetarian) has introduced into the minds of the easily led public the idea that a smack from a loving parent with the aim of controlling/protecting their child, is a bad thing.

Well done do-gooders; no, really, well done, you lot have almost single-handedly created a new breed of children who have zero respect for their elders and society in general.
And the apparent need for a "hotline".

Good God!

THE "SAY ANYTHING NO MATTER HOW STUPID JUST TO GET IN THE PAPER" AWARDS

I know it's only the 7th of January, but I'd be surprised if this little nugget is trumped.

It was the response from Hast Soran of Parramatta when included in an article in the aforementioned paper regarding the increased numbers of mosquitos. Apparently the usual spraying techniques aren't having much of an effect. Ms Soran's explanation? (heh heh) Y'ready...?

"The mosquitos are getting smarter - they've learned to run and hide"


Now, don't laugh - I myself saw one riding a bicycle just the other day. Strangely enough, there's also a bottle of Irish whiskey in my cupboard that's somewhat diminished. So...mosquito on a bike - half a bottle of whiskey. Oh no - the super-smart mozzies can now open bottles!



The remark spurs memories of a film called Deep Blue or something like that which was about a group of marine scientists who were attempting to make fish intelligent - or something like that; was a long time ago and not a particularly good show actually.

Sort of...Jaws meets Bab and Jaayne from the office... Unfortunately for the attractive stars, a great white got hold of some of the potion and the immortal line forthcame...

"They are getting smaaarter", the lead actress claimed, in a delicious English accent. Hoho. I had a few laughs over that. But it was just a film after all.

But now it seems, according to Ms Soran, the humble mozzy has obtained it too. Look out Hollywood - here's the next blockbuster. The intelligent mozzy - he packs heat! Hoho.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On a related matter, the Toowoombarra Institute has awarded Marvin the mutant mosquito lifetime membership in its hallowed halls for services to plasmus ingestus (bloodsucking to you and me).
Marvin wasn't available for comment as he's busy in the lab inventing a cure for the dreaded Mortein* but his friend, Mabel the 'not so mutant but does very well for herself thank you very much', mosquito told muttarsdotcom,

"Marvin is of course delighted to have such a prestigious honour bestowed on him. He would like to thank the Institute; and his family and friends for their ongoing support. And a special mention for the lawyers from whom he learned his trade".


*Mortein is Australia's favourite mozzy spray*

OH - OH MA-AN. MY SIDES HURT!

I'll apologise in advance to my American readers but...hoho - just read on...




JOHN CLEESE's LETTER TO AMERICA


To the citizens of the United States of America:

In light of your failure to elect a competent President of the USA and
thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of
your independence, effective immediately.

Her Sovereign Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, will resume monarchical
duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories (except
Kansas, which she does not fancy), as from Monday next.

Your new prime minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a governor for
America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate
will be disbanded. A questionnaire may be circulated next year to
determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following
rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary.
Then look up "aluminium," and check the pronunciation guide. You will be
amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

2. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'colour', 'favour'
and 'neighbour.' Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without
skipping half the letters, and the suffix "ize" will be replaced by the
suffix "ise."

3. You will learn that the suffix 'burgh' is pronounced 'burra'; you may
elect to respell Pittsburgh as 'Pittsberg' if you find you simply can't
cope with correct pronunciation.

4. Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to
acceptable levels (look up "vocabulary"). Using the same twenty-seven
words interspersed with filler noises such as "like", "know whad I'm
sayin'?", and "you know" is unacceptable and inefficient form of communication.

5. There is no such thing as "US English." We will let Microsoft know on
your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take
account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of "-ize."

6. You will relearn your original national anthem, "God Save The Queen",
but only after fully carrying out Task #1 (see above).

7. July 4 will no longer be celebrated as a holiday. November 2 will be
a new national holiday, but to be celebrated only in England. It will be
called "Come-Uppance Day."

8. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers
or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers, self-help gurus and
therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns
should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown
up enough to handle a gun.

9. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything
more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you
wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

10. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and this is for
your own good. When we show you Japanese, Korean and German cars,
you will understand what we mean.

11. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will
start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you
will go metric immediately and without the benefit of conversion tables.
Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British
sense of humour.

12. The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been
calling "gas") - roughly $6/US gallon. Get used to it.

13. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French
fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato
chips are properly called "crisps." Real chips are thick cut, fried in
animal fat, and dressed not with mayonnaise but with vinegar.

14. Waiters and waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive with
customers.

15. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually
beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to
as "beer," and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be
referred to as "Lager." American brands will be referred to as
"Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine," so that all can be sold without risk of
further confusion.

16. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as
good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to
play English characters. Watching Andie MacDowell attempt English
dialogue in "Four Weddings and a Funeral" was an experience akin to
having one's ears removed with a cheese grater.

17. You will cease playing American "football." There is only one kind
of proper football; you call it "soccer". Those of you brave enough
will, in time, will be allowed to play rugby (which has some
similarities to American "football", but does not involve stopping for a
rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a
bunch of nancies).

18. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to
host an event called the "World Series" for a game which is not played
outside of America . Since only 2.1% of you are aware that there is a
world beyond your borders, your error is understandable.

19. You must tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us mad.

20. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty's
Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all
monies due backdated to 1776.

Thank you for your co-operation.

John Cleese

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lol - only a Python!!!

Two stories out of the US:


The first from Miami, Florida, concerns the story of the 12 year old boy who “landed the catch of a lifetime”.

The catch in question? A 250kg bull shark. A picture accompanies the text, of the beast slain by the young boy (in an almost fable-like fashion. Mind you, I’ve seen the picture and unless the boy is the son of Thor, there’s no way on this Earth he hauled that in himself).

This magnificent creature, king of its domain, reduced to a trophy of a boy probably bored by the plethora of toys society now provides and spurred on by the redneck adults.
I realise how I sound, and concede that if more young boys took part in similar activities that required the shifting of one's arse, the obesity epidemic (which is now how it’s generally considered with somewhere around 40% of the civilized world being classed in this way) would be much reduced.
But the sacrifice of this…well, dinosaur it has to be said – this species has existed for many millions of years, indeed, they say all life came from the sea don’t they? – is an awful price to pay for that.

I imagine the young fellow will be recipient of many a slap on the back – probably even the taste of beer as the “men” celebrate his victory and acceptance into their club. (He’ll maybe even get his end away! Too young you say? Of course, nevertheless, it’s not unheard of and after all - he hooked a monster!).


The second article is just as disturbing (probably more so to those who don’t share my disgust at the mighty warrior types that are “sports fishermen”).


This one is from Dallas, Texas (cue music from the TV show which spawned the ubiquitous “who shot JR” t-shirt range)

Charles Allen Chatman was jailed in 1981 for rape. He was 20.
He’s now 47.
And he’s just been released. After 27 years incarcerated, a recent DNA test has proven he was innocent all this time.
What price those 27 years? How much is 27 years of liberty worth? He was a young man when this began – his entire life in front of him.
Now? Well what chance does a 47 year old have? The part of his life when he should have been laying foundations for his (and possibly, probably his family’s) future was taken from him. He’ll never get to see his children grow up, or get to kick a football around a park with them (which apparently is what life’s about they tell me).
The article says he saw a mobile phone for the first time upon release. They must mean “live” – prisons have TV’s.
It also says he would have to “relearn how to use a knife and fork to cut his food”. Where was he…the moon? The Daily rag…quality journalism, folks!

Leaving aside the Daily Rag’s exaggerations, the fact remains, Mr Chatman has missed out on virtually everything good in life due to more than likely an overzealous prosecutor (Think Jack whatsisname from Law and Order).
The race card is also played at the end of the piece. Accused is black; victim white.

It’s another feather for the cap of the anti-death penalty campaigners. The victim was 50 at the time and depending on the ferocity of the attack I would probably have lobbied for such a sentence (rape is heinous to me).
I’d be feeling pretty crushed now it has to be said if such a penalty had’ve been imposed.
However, they didn’t have DNA technology then and mistakes were made.
They do now and such mistakes (allowing for human infallibility – still doesn’t make it right though) wouldn’t be as likely to occur.

Either way, someone needs to pay this man. In some way. I don’t think it would be too much to fund the rest of his life – say…whatever an average man on an average wage would earn for 27 years. That would see him aged 74. There’s not a great deal of time after that. It's really the least they can do - they stole the man's life.

TERRORIST SUPPORTER

David Hicks, 'the convicted supporter of terrorism' has been released from the South Australian prison in which he served the last 9 months of his six year tenure behind bars.

You'll remember he spent 5 years, 3 months in the hell-hole that is Guantanamo Bay - most of it in solitary confinement. I myself spend too much time alone but at least I have the freedom to move around in search of fellowship; I can't imagine how terrifying it must be to be have nothing but a turning mind as a companion. One can only wonder at the mental torture he's endured and indeed what subsequent effect that may have. How many times must the man have turned his past over and over...

**Man, I'd love to speak with him (maybe I'll contact him to write his story - in the inimitable Muttars fashion, i.e. no holds barred - bollocks to the authorities).**

Well, for being connected to the fringes of the war in Afghanistan, (without ever actually killing anyone - as a matter of fact, he wasn't even)pointing his gun in an aggressive way) he served his time. Brutal time, it has to be said. Actual murderers, rapists and peadophiles in some cases have served less...

Now eventually, he's a free man, albeit with an equally brutal control order imposed that requires, demands, orders his presentation at a police station 3 times a week and a curfew between 00:00 and 06:00. He's not permitted to use a telephone or have internet access either, which in this day and is tantamount to cutting a man's hands off.

It must be noted that the Americans didn't have an offence with which to charge Hicks, presumably why they kept him incarcerated - while their legal eagles fabricated one.
It should also be noted that Hicks, whilst in Bosnia, fought ON the American side and that the very enemy America now fights, are almost certainly using arms provided to them by the US when Russia was the invader. Funny that...

In the photo the Rag carries, the man looks pale; in the picture of him walking from the prison with a woman I'd assume is his mother, he wears a face of...stoicism, would be the most accurate. It could be that at any minute he expects the secret service to jump out with guns drawn, laugh, and herd him back inside again - like he won't, can't believe it until he's sitting in his father's home. Even then, he will probably jump at any sharp sound for years to come.

The media have since camped outside his home, cameras at the ready, a dozen high noon sheriffs ready to draw at the slightest twitch of curtain.

Hicks's life is not his own anymore. The police who enforce the draconian curfew have been given permission to extend it indefinitely - if they think it's warranted.

All for being simply on the wrong side of the fence. (See above Bosnia mention).
The machine of the civilized world, when provoked is arguably as brutal as any terrorist.

PEOPLE OF 2007

According to the Sunday edition of the Daily Rag.

Second on the list is the Antichrist, aka Al Gore, aka the Shyster, aka the nearly President who desperate for some sort of fame made a film full of propaganda and inaccuracies with the intent of scaring the stupid into buying smaller cars and recycling their plastic.

To reiterate: global warming ISN'T a figment of our imagination but the suggestion that we burning less coal, recycling plastic bottles, using less water and the plethora of other suggestions to turn back the tide - IS!

There is no question that we humans are...well, bad, for the planet and as we reach new discoveries with regard to extending the our average lifespan and new ways of producing offspring from the most barren of wombs, the plague that is human life will just become more severe.
And as in any species there is a finite amount of any species that can exist in any given amount of space.
Of course, with our all encompassing intelligence we have been able to circumvent most of nature's 'checks and balances' as it were, but worry not - this cannot go on forever - and it won't.
For everything under the sun, there is a price to be paid.

In a previous post I alluded to a quote from a scientist in Britain who said that we were, 'living a 3 planet existence' quote unquote. Simply meaning that the rate of which we were using the earth's natural resources would take 3 like-sized planets to sustain.
It's inevitable those resources will run out - blind Freddie can see that. What then? Do we make cars illegal? Trains? Boats, planes, air conditioners?

Back to the horse and cart? Gosh, how will I survive without a motorbike? Oh no!

Wonder how the Antichrist will manage with a horse and cart. Most likely he'll have one with footmen and driver, security guards and gold laid upholstery. (Just so he can protect his money he'd previously spirited away from the stupid).

Anyway, for the normal people who actually WORK for a living, we're all off to said employment.

CASE IN POINT...

Some time ago I wrote a piece (God, it sounds so...uppity - like I'm an actual writer rather than some Joe just jotting down his thoughts) regarding sunshine and it's benefits/risks. The effects of too much of it - specifically skin cancer (which it has to be said is apparently at its highest rate here in OZ due to the famed 'hole' in the atmosphere) has been well documented. 'Stay out of the sun', they cautioned. 'Or use a strong UV cream'.

Well the general populous immediately ran out to the shops and purchased all the (about 500 UV) sun cream they could find (which is so protective it renders the recipient whiter than they began...).

It now transpires that the experts' words were taken a little too literally as many people (read, morons) and their poor children who don't have a say are now presenting at doctors with the symptoms of vitamin D deficiency.

Vitamin D is received in spades from the sun's rays. And word is just 15 minutes a day provides all the vitamin D a person requires. I myself have never been a 'worshipper' as such and have never been interested in lying on the beach like some sort of...well, wanker actually. Half naked women - good; half naked men - bad.

I've been saying for years now that the total blocking of these rays is a bad idea. I think in my 'piece' I wrote of my Ma (and all other Mas of that generation) telling me and the respective children to, "go out and get some sun on your legs'.

People aren't encouraged to do so anymore and because they're that thick they'll believe whatever the 'experts' tell them.

Tch! Experts indeed. Go and get a real bloody job y'wasters!

Me? I'm goin out in the sun - with my smokes!

MERRY... CHRISTMAS/ XMAS/ HOLIDAY/ DAY THAT'S KINDA SPECIAL BUT CAN'T BE OPENLY DISCUSSED

Christmas time again. Phew! Where'd the year go? Wasn't it Christmas yesterday?

Anyway, another week and it'll all be over for another year. As I write, I still haven't secured a home. I was close three times (or so I thought) but for a variety of reasons it fell through so here I am, in my spot. Quite a nice spot actually - with peace and quiet I've been unable to find without paying half a mil or travelling a million hours from my work.

But LICS as they say (well, as I say at least...)

A matter of some concern to me is the pay TV provider, Austar, who, seemingly unaware (or simply uncaring) of the season have 'set the dogs on me'. The dogs in this case are the fine people of a debt collection agency with the help of their vicious lawyers.
They have threatened my credit rating; a rating it has to be said I've literally starved to protect. Now some corporate scum is trying to smear it. Well, not without a fight.
To reiterate my case:-

I became homeless. I told Austar that despite not having a TV and therefore being unable to actually watch their programs, I was still prepared to pay the monthly charge until such times I found accommodation. Then, when I DID find somewhere, I would just simply place a call and they could reconnect me over the phone at the enormous cost of...well, nothing to them, and probably 3-5 minutes on the phone for me (which comprises a woman telling me that my call is important to her and that I'm next in the queue, coupled with some 'trolley music' to further torture me!)
Nope - not good enough for Austar. It seems that I MUST actually watch TV or else they'll disconnect. Does that mean I have to video myself watching TV with time/date code?
I tell them - "I have no TV...because I have no home, so I can't actually watch your channels". I remind them again, "Because I have no home - i.e. I'm homeless". At the same time I'm staggered at their refusal to understand. Again I tell them, "Still, regardless of my current living arrangements, I'm willing to pay the monthly amount. You'll still get your money - what's the problem here?"
They simply refused to discuss it and handed alleged debt to their collectors who as I say, set their lawyers on me,

I, in turn, have contacted three consumer advocacy agencies with my ace in the pack being my homelessness (Austar or their denizens can't find me).

Don't know how this is going to play but one thing is certain, I will fight this to the end on behalf of all who have been fucked over by the corporate world.

JOKE OF THE WEEK

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MAN WALKS INTO A BAR WITH A STEERING WHEEL DOWN THE FRONT OF HIS TROUSERS.

BARMAN POINTS AT LUMP AND ASKS: "HOW ARE YOU, BUDDY, ISN'T THAT UNCOMFORTABLE?"

"YEAH", THE MAN REPLIES, "IT'S DRIVING ME NUTS!"


***************************************************************************************

WARMING SHWARMING

A report on the television news told of some Pacific Islander types complaining that sea rises are overwhelming their homes. Accompaning the report was footage of waves breaking around the floor of the homes (read huts with palm fronds). They claim it's as a`result of global warming (How the hell Gore the Antichrist got to them I'll never know. One of them must have acquired a TV from somewhere...).

So far, a couple of sentences into this piece, you'd be excused for thinking fair enough and having empathy for the poor Islanders.

That is until you read on:

These indigenents of the beautiful islands in the South Pacific, typically live on the beach. I don't mean near the beach or in close proximity to the beach, no - I mean ON the beach - right there on the sand, their gardens just behind on the small soil shelf.
Something as simple and innocent as a freak high tide would have the same effect.
Well look PI's, you choose to live there - in a place many Westerners pay several month's earnings just visit. You probably exist in an environment free of terror, one where you just tend your garden and potter about til your heart's content.
But nevertheless, it's still on a beach and as such carries the risk of such high tides so I'm afraid you lose all rights to appeal to the western world for help.
What, you want me to replace your palm frond hut with an air conditioned home on higher ground? I don't think so.

I wrote about the spate of vicious glassings (are they ever anything else...?) that have been in the news lately a while back.
No need to cover old ground except to say that the head-shaking and tut-tutting from the media was all encompassing. And rightly so, I'd have to say (though my opinion isn't motivated by the desire to sell more copy...).

What typically follows such demonstrations of dismay, is the plea - "What can we do to stop this?"
And all measures of control are discussed, from shutting bars completely to shutting them early in a (vain they'll discover) attempt to curb this almost primal of attacks on a usually unsuspecting victim.
You want to stop this? Well, you can't, frankly. There are of course ways of reducing it but that relies on people drinking less and people won't - period.
Especially when the demon liquor is virtually given away.

Take the advertisement for a large supermarket in Australia. With that time of year again fast approaching, the market has pulled out the usual stops of advertising alcohol and ridiculously low prices. The ad I saw was offering 24 cans of beer for 40 bucks - $20 off. And the choices...wow, such a variey both local and imported - Hahn, Crownies, Pure Blonde, The ever-present VB, Bud, Tooheys (New and Old), Heineken... the list goes on and on!

That's thirty percent. Reducing the price to just over half. Where else would you get such a gift? Imagine for example going into a car dealers and getting 5000 off a 15,000 dollar car. It just wouldn't happen Nor with whitegoods, furniture, TVs - unless it's from the benevolence of the jolly, fat man in the red suit.
But because it's the piss in Australia, they're almost giving it away.

Yeah...I'm wringing my hands too. Boohoo, how can we stop this?

Meantime, with shaking heads and tut-tutting voices, the hands continue to be wrung, offenders are incarcerated and life returns to normal...but with the unfortunate victim missing an eye!

DAVID AND GOLIATH

Otherwise known as Austar television.

Dear Mr Austar,

You have been sending me a bill for 250 bucks for months on end now claiming it to be a cancellation fee. I didn't ask for my service to be cancelled and have repeatedly informed you that I was happy to keep paying the monthly amount until I secured new accommodation (you are well aware of my current situation).

But that wasn't enough for you. It would seem that despite my willingness to keep paying the amount whilst searching for a new home, you have decided that because I'm not actually watching television (because I've no fucking house y'pricks!) I have to pay a cancellation fee. Well, fuck that!

I am well aware of the need for such a fee. Austar needs to protect itself from a customer asking you to come out, set up the dish, provide the set top box, remote etc, only for a month later say - "aw, I don't want it now". I completely understand that you need to cover yourself from this.
However, I have been an Austar customer for 7 years, during which time I have paid to Austar the sum of 5,600 dollars (mainly for 3 channels I actually watch, and about 30 I don't - food channel, kids channel, diy channel etc.) You don't need to 'cover' yourselves. 5,600 dollars would cover you like a mf!

And now you have the nerve to demand 250 dollars for a cancellation fee while I struggle to find a home in this expensive market that is Sydney. Moreover, you have 'set the dogs on me' in the form of a debt collection agency!

Well, pay close attention to this for I'll say it only once:-

YOU CAN HAND THE UNJUSTIFIED DEBT TO AS MANY DEBT COLLECTORS AS YOU WANT. I WILL NOT BE PAYING EITHER THEM OR YOU. YOU MAY CONSIDER OUR RELATIONSHIP PERMANENTLY OVER AND CAN SHOVE YOUR 250 BUCKS UP YOUR FUCKING ARSE!!! FURTHERMORE, I WILL NEVER USE AUSTAR TELEVISION AGAIN AND WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO DISSUADE OTHERS FROM DOING SO ALSO. YOU PEOPLE ARE GOING TO LEARN YOU CAN'T JUST TREAT YOUR CUSTOMERS LIKE THIS.

UPDATE

Well, it's now the fourth month I've been living out of the back of my ute. Four months of searching for a new home without success so far.

I'm having to seriously consider once again renting; only thing is my two boys. Apparently they are a problem for some. As soon as they hear the term "two Border Collies" they get very defensive and completely shut down.

I would like to know exactly what it is these wankers think my boys are going to do to their precious house. Do they think they're going to shit all over the place; bark into the wee hours of the morning? What? Explain to me what it is that worries you so.

Well I consider it a personal affront to me - no less so than if you insulted my children and my response is this:- (Ma, if you're reading this, look away)

YOU CAN TAKE YOUR POXY HOUSE AND SHOVE IT - RIGHT UP YOUR FUCKIN ARSE - SIDEWAYS. I'LL EVEN LEND A BOOT TO MAKE SURE IT GETS WORKED RIGHT UP THERE!!!

WHAT MORE DOES A MAN NEED...

MITSUBISHI TURBO DIESEL 4X4 UTE (RESPLENDENT WITH A BIG DENT - GOD, I'M SUCH A DICKHEAD!)

YAMAHA WR 426 ENDURO


AND MY BOYS.