I Love A Sunburnt Country

rac·ism   [rey-siz-uhm]

–noun

a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one’s own race is superior and has the right to rule others.

Many, many people have an odd view of racism (the strangest being “whites against everyone else”), but there’s the definition right there, but I have been called a racist because of what has come of my country. Racial tension is at an all time high in Australia and it’s constantly on the news and while I would never pick out an individual person and beat the crap out of them because of what my country is becoming, I can’t say with 100% honesty that don’t I understand why there are people who do, because I’m getting mad.

I love different food and learning how to cook it, learning about different cultures and hearing a person’s life story, but that doesn’t mean that I want things to change in my country and it doesn’t mean that a person can come into my country and tell me how it’s now going to be run.

For example: There is a Muslim couple who live in Australia, and they’ve decided that we need a Taj Mahal type structure here. Firstly, I look forward to seeing such a magnificient structure here in Australia. Short of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, there’s really not a lot of architectural prettiness here and chances are that come its completion, I’ll be one of the dorks rushing out there to take photos, but I know of people working on the structure that are forbidden to eat meat pies for lunch while they’re doing the job. It doesn’t matter that the structure is made on Australian soil – home of the meat pie, meat pies are forbidden.

In Australia, you’re were never forbidden from eating anything. If you want a tomato sauce and banana sandwich with pine nuts tossed in for fun, then you can eat it. If your previous country is so oppressed that you find something like a meat pie to be grotesque, then you’ve got no business being here and forcing your beliefs on a person on their home soil. It’s not like they’re forcing YOU to eat it, so what’s the fucking problem? Would you like it if someone came into your country and starting telling you that the way you did things was abhorrent to them? Would you wonder what they were doing in your country? Of course you would – so why are you doing it? Isn’t enforcing your dietary beliefs on another person a form of racism in itself? Why is your way of eating more superior to others, and why is it that you think it’s okay to FORBID someone else to eat it? You’re messing with OUR lifestyle and you’re ruling others.

Another example: I used to work for the Registrar General’s Office – the government department responsible for the recording of all births, deaths and marriages in the country. Our laws stated that when a child was born, that child took the surname of the father, the mother if no father was stated or a hyphenation of both names. It’s really kind of simple and makes all kinds of sense, but imagine my surprise when a muslim couple came in and abused me because their child’s surname was wrong because the child’s surname was the same as the father’s. Apparently, in their country, the child would be considered the father’s brother and not the father’s son because their surnames were the same. Apparently the “bin” means “son of” and the child’s surname should have been the same as the father’s given name. Firstly, you’re not in your country, you’re in my country and we have laws just like your country does. Has anyone gone to a Muslim country and demanded that their child’s surname be changed about because of the customs in Australia? And if they did, would they get what they asked for? I think the answer to that question would be a big “no”. But guess what? Australia rolled over and gave them what they want. Isn’t this a way of saying that your culture and laws are more superior and if this is the case, what are you doing here again?

Other examples:

No Christmas decorations up or nativity scenes in what was basically a Christian country in the event that it offends someone. Being frowned upon for saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays”. It’s not happy holidays, it’s Christmas, and while people warily say “happy holidays” and roll over like pussies, one can’t help but wonder what would happen if this was tried in someone else’s country and what the outcome would be.

Welfare benefits paid immediately to people coming into our country if they have children. I was of the understanding that before you could immigrate to this country, that you needed to have a place of employment before you could move here, but after working for the welfare system here, I couldn’t begin to tell you how many people went there fresh off a boat or aeroplane and walked straight into a Centrelink office and demanded payments for their kids. Samoan families who, on average, had four kids or more were further given another bonus because they were a large family. That’s Australian taxpayers paying for kids from another country on an already over-stretched welfare system and I can say with absolute truth that Australian families don’t get that perk unless they breed like crazy, and if we were doing that, none of us would have time to work and pay our taxes and then who would be supporting these other people?

Speaking your language in an English country. I’m sorry, but it IS an English speaking country. I would never go to China, France, Japan or even Pakistan without learning some of your language. I don’t think I should have to be multi-lingual because you didn’t bother to learn anything basic – like, “please give me money for my 10 children. Here are their passports”.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for giving people a fair go, but I don’t support having to change my lifestyle and have my freedoms taken away in order to save the feelings of people that chose to come here. I don’t walk into someone’s house and tell them how they should be running it so I don’t know why we are allowing others to come into our home and do just that. I am appalled that our government has shown such utter lack of backbone when it comes to this issue. If we’re supposed to be a cosmopolitan country, why are we forgoing the things that make us Australian? If someone else’s country was so fantastic that they want to change Australia into the same type of country, why did they leave this beloved country in the first place?

Why?

I love your kebabs and your Turkish bread and I love learning the history behind Hannukah – I will even participate in any ceremonies that come with your culture if I happen to be in your home. It’s not that I’m just tolerant, it’s because I am truly interested and I like learning new things. This doesn’t mean that I suddenly want to resemble a muslim person and I’m not going to forego Christmas because that’s not what I’m about. If I can be tolerant of what is, essentially, strangers coming into my home; they can, in turn, be tolerant of my lifestyle. I didn’t ask anyone to come here, even though you are welcome, so why am I changing stuff about to accommodate you?

113 boats have, so far, made it to Western Australian shores. That’s thousands and thousands of illegal immigrants running from an “oppressed” country that want to come here and live on our dime, pleading poverty and hardship, yet had the money in the first place to make the trip.

Should I be mad? Or am I being a racist for supporting sending them home?

If loving the way my country used to be and becoming distressed at the direction things are going is considered being a racist, then maybe I am one after all.

I’ll be sure to tell all my friends – which brings up another point…

Yes, I have friends of different races, yet there are some who say that pulling out that card can still make a white person a racist.

Here’s a news flash, I’m never going to be anything but white and it’s time people from other races got over this fact.  You’re not special because your ancestors were oppressed or used.  You’re not special because of the colour of your skin any more than I’m special.  In fact, when it’s pointed out that I’m white and have no understanding of how it is to be oppressed, you come off looking uneducated and stupid.

I’ll tell my friends that, too.

Shut Up, Whiners

Every year, on 26 January, Aussies celebrate Australia Day.

Back when I was a kid, Australia Day meant that you piled into the car with your parents and siblings and you all made your way down to the foreshore and you spent all day there.

Mum would break up a chook around about 6pm and because you’d spent the day running around and swimming in the river (because it was safe to do that back when I was a kid) you and your sibling/s would fall on the chicken like a wild pack of wolves (minus the growling), fill up on sugary drinks, run around some more, and then finally settle down to watch some awesome fireworks set to music from Australian artists that lasted for about 5 minutes and only came in two colours and one style.

When it came to leaving, everyone was polite and let everyone merge into neat and orderly lines and you were usually home within an hour – not that bad, considering we lived 10 minutes away from Perth.

It’s not like I thought, back then, that one day I’d do the same thing with my kids, but when I did have them, come Australia Day, I was taking the trek with Talia so that she could have the fun that I used to have as a kid.

So the river wasn’t as clean, but she would always quickly make friends and spend the day running around like a blue-arsed fly till she would fall down in my lap to watch the fireworks.

Even without the swimming, it was still idyllic and still enjoyable.  It didn’t matter that it took me an hour and a half to make the same journey home – even though I lived the same distance from Perth as my parents did, and Talia enjoyed it.  Besides, she was getting 15 minutes of fireworks and not only were there more colours, but there were heaps of different styles – stuff on the ground that looked like water fountains and there was the massive chrysanthemum firework at the end

15 years later, going to the foreshore to watch the fireworks is a fucking nightmare.  Sure you get 30 minutes of neat shit that boggles the mind and laser stuff and fireworks shooting off the Narrows Bridge and from Kings Park, but the people!!!!

First, the river is a freaken cesspool.  I can’t believe I used to go crabbing and prawning in that river, because now you couldn’t pay me to put a foot in it.  Then there’s the drunken brawls and the rioting, because Aussies en masse can’t handle their piss anymore.  Added to that, because those drunken fucks are irresponsible and drink drive, the average time for getting home is fucking HOURS because the police are out in force and breathalizing everyone to see whose drunk and who isn’t.

Thanks to 2004 (link, link, link), in 2005 I decided to go to the beach and watch the fireworks from there.  I then did this in 2006 and that was the year of fucking AWESOME fireworks that clashed for supremacy with a lightening storm and the girls and I sat on the shore with waves breaking over our submerged parts and it was… orgasmic (I was at this beach, but where I was sitting, the fireworks were just slightly to the left of the lightening storm just behind it.  I’ve never ooooh’d and ahhhh’d so much in my life).

Police thought they’d give the Aussies a go, and in 2008 they allowed a “quiet drink” for the mum and dad crowd, but banned alcohol for under 18’s (and rightly so) and had the authority to confiscate alcohol from trouble makers.

This is the result…

Who wants to take their kids to that?

Enter all the whiny bastards who seem to have an inability to have a good time without hitting the turps.  If I see one more person say “well… it’s UnAustralian because we can’t drink” I will punch a kitten.

It’s not surprising that dumb cunts like Howard Sattler can’t help but put his worthless two cents in.  Apparently old and loud-mouthed equates to speaking up on behalf of Australians, no matter how misguided you are.

Howard Sattler:
“Mild mannered, decent folk will join drunken yobbos as police targets. A sip of chardonnay at a family picnic will attract confiscation, prosecution and fines of up to several hundred dollars, even if there is no evidence of misbehaviour.”

Well boo-fucking-hoo.

I’m a firm believer that you reap what you sow, and until people in large crowds can act responsibly when alcohol is involved, then I’m all for this ban, and while Perthites click yes or no on polls (notice 60% disagree with the alcohol ban), and cry into their beers that won’t be present on Australia Day on the foreshore or any of the other locations – that’s providing people actually leave their piss at home, lets remember that Perth is the LAST State to bring this in, even though street drinking has always been illegal.

Toughen up, princesses.  If you can’t enjoy a night out without getting shit-faced, then stay home.

Thanks.

Butt the Fuck Out, America

People from Australia, Bermuda, Bangladesh, Canada, Ireland, Scotland, Kenya, India, Sri Lanka, South Africa, Pakistan, Netherlands, West Indies, England, New Zealand, and Zimbabwe know all about the friendly competitiveness that all these countries enjoy when it comes to cricket.

Enter America – who knows pretty much fuck all about the sport and did anyone else notice how they’re NOT players of the sport – wading in wearing their big daddy boots ready to smack us on the ass for a racist commercial.

Here’s the commercial:

KFC Ad – Being Stuck In An Awkward Situation

Now… I don’t know what it’s like in the good ole US of A, but here it’s quite common to get a shitty seat that usually has you sitting in with the opposing team’s fans. It happens in cricket and it even happens in football where all us good white folk are just white folk and our “colours” are those of the footy team we support. Had that commercial been a bunch of Bombers fans surrounding a West Coast Eagle fan, nothing would have been said.

Here’s another ad from the same series of commercials:

Thank God the Victim Wasn\'t Black

And, once again, I state Thank GOD the victim wasn’t black. No one said anything because it was a white man, I’m sure. No complaints came from this ad.

Oddly, no one from the West Indies complained about the first ad. Just like Australia, they found the ad funny and didn’t look for the racial overtones that America prides itself on.

See that? AMERICA thought the ad was racist, but the countries involved in the commercial didn’t.

Obama – you’re a fucking president of a country that isn’t ours. Go back to your fashion bullshit and keep your nose out of things that don’t pertain to you.

KFC – you’re pussies for pulling the ad because of another country’s stupidity.

Seriously.

Fatal Attraction – Sour Grapes

People who don’t take account for their own actions have always pissed me off, but this woman takes the cake.

I ask the question:  If a single man takes up a relationship with a married woman, who is more to blame?  The single man with no marital ties who’s looking to get his end wet?  Or the already married woman who has a couple of kids?

As a married mother of three, I say the woman.  Granted, the man is somewhat to blame, but really, who does he have to answer to on an intimate level?  And what the hell was she thinking?  Apparently, he asked her to his office because “he wanted to kiss her“.  WHY DID SHE GO?!?!?!

Enter common whore slash barmaid, Michelle Chantelois, who was paid $100,000 for an interview with Sunday Night to spill the beans on a three year affair with the South Australian Premier, Mike Rann, that started in 2002.  She’s happy to talk about sex in his office, sex in his car and sex in a park and then has the audacity to ask for an apology because her husband found out and the marriage is now in tatters.  Headlines of “Mike Rann Taught Me How To Lie” are splashed all over the place when she perpetrated the ultimate lie by sleeping with a man who wasn’t her husband.

Hello?  Shouldn’t she have thought of that BEFORE she opened her legs to another man?

She wants an apology from Rann for the affair and she wants it said to her kids and her ex-husband.  She thinks that Rann should be sacked from Parliament.  All because she didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t say “no”.

Personally, I don’t think Rann has done anything wrong.  He slept with a married woman.  He told her it was casual.  He told her it wasn’t about love and yet, she still went to him.  This  not only makes her an immoral slut, it also makes her a stupid one.

Allegations that he made her watch the movie Unfaithful where clandestine lovers meet in a public place and then have intercourse in the bathroom so that they could recreate the scene are ludicrous when she is asked “and was this scene recreated?” she says “I think so, on his part”.

An exerpt:

“Like how often would you have sex with your husband and he actually asked me to watch this particular movie which was called Unfaithful.

“In the scene, the leading lady goes to the cafe with her girlfriends and she meets the guy that she’s having an affair with and they go to the restroom and it’s a very hot steamy sex scene.

“He actually asked me to watch that . . . because that was one of his fantasies, I guess.

Did you rent the movie? “Yes, I did.”

Did you watch the scene? “Yes, I did.”

Did you act out the fantasy? “I believe he did”.

He did? “Yes. He would pin me against the wall.”

What.  You weren’t there?  You weren’t a willing participant?  GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!

Mike Rann was married in 2006 – one year after these affairs took place.  Hardly a family man or even a married man at the time she states so as far as I’m concerned, his nose is clean.

In October of this year, 4 years after the fact, Rann was bashed by Chantelois’ husband who found out about the affair when he sprung her texting Rann on her phone.  Rann changed his phone number because she went Glenn Close on him.

In my opinion, she and her deranged husband should be apologising to him.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!!!!!

2012

If you like your movies action packed, with shit flying everywhere, then this film is for you!

First, I would like to complain about the movie facility. We went to Hoyts in Carousel and chose to go La Premiere. This basically equated to over-priced tickets so you can sit in over-stuffed chairs and they’re over-priced because you get complimentary drinks and popcorn – in teeeeeeeeny tiny little cups. I had to leave the movie three times to top up my drink in my teeny tiny cup. You also have the choice of having hot food sent to your seat, but $11.50 for wedges? Come the fuck on. Are you serious? $11.50???

Geof went for Gourmet pizza ($12.50 for four shit ass tiny slivers of average pizza) with wedges as a side dish for an additional $4.00. There were seven wedges. I shit you not.

The movie, however, was AWESOME, with major carnage being inflicted all over the place – Big ass cracks ripping apart freeways, shopping centres and hey!!! whole sections of real estate like California sliding into the ocean.

Woody Harrelson is at ground zero when Yellowstone turns into a massive volcano that goes freaken NUCLEAR when it blows and there’s edge of the seat tension in some parts of the movie.

The tsunamis are TSU-FREAKEN-NAMIS, and NO ONE is safe.

The good news is you don’t see all the good bits in the trailer.

It’s true!!!! There are more good bits!!!

I really loved this movie. I’m going to go see this movie again. If I wasn’t already married, I would marry this movie.

Go see go see go see.

Oh no you di’nt!!!

Geof got fired today from his voluntary job, but his gutless boss didn’t do it himself, he got other people to turn up AT THE DOJO and sort it out there.

There are people that aren’t turning up anymore because they were only coming to the classes because Geof was Sensei and the kids love him.

I’ll start from the beginning.

Geof has been working every Sunday morning at the local high school teaching Go-Kan-Ryu (GKR) (and no, I’m not linking the cowards) for the last few months.  We were getting more and more students coming every week and everyone was happy.

Geof has been a member of GKR for 17 years.  He had his brown belt and he was teaching his own classes when a back injury put him out of the picture for years, but last year he went back in again and he’s been loving it.

Geof doesn’t get paid for what he does on Sunday mornings.  Apparently, at some stage, he’s given a percentage of what his classes have brought in, but we’ve never seen any money from that side of it and when we once asked about the percentage, details were sketchy at best, so we’re calling it voluntary because if you’re not getting paid, it’s not really a job – which makes this whole “sacking” kind of funny.

We’re a family of six.  There is us, the three girls (Talia, Caris and Cheyenne) and Talia’s fiancee lives with us, too.  Geof was offered a managerial position at Burridge Martial Arts and it’s not like he was doing anything else for GKR and earning a wage, so he said yes so he could provide for his family AND still be linked to martial arts.  We’re not sure if this is the reason why he’s been “fired”, but we can’t think of anything else that could result from the balls up sacking that he got.

First, his gutless manager didn’t even tell Geof.  He got other people to come down to the dojo just before Geof started the class, and those other people asked for Geof to hand over the dojo keys and his instructor’s belt – in front of his students and these people were unclear as to why they’re asking for them.  When they tried to ring Sensei Jan (the useless manager) they couldn’t even get him on the phone – even though he issued instructions for them to come down and get the stuff from Geof and that if they had “any problems” to give him a call.  There weren’t any problems – sure we’re confused, but we’re grown ups and we just handed shit over.  Lynn (the poor messenger who didn’t look too pleased at doing the sacking) tried to call Jan but he didn’t answer his phone, and she tried calling three times.

When we rocked up to the dojo, there were former students at the gate waiting and they said they were doing the class.  Geof said that he wasn’t aware of any changes and the students were going to go back home to have a sleep-in.  We thought this had been organised because Geof had been in a car accident on Tuesday and Jan might have thought that Geof wouldn’t be able to make Sunday’s class, but we did… and it’s a good thing we showed up because no one else had keys to the gate leading to the dojo.

Lynn said that Jan had tried contacting Geof on his mobile, but since the car accident, we can’t do anything with his phone other than receive calls and even that’s awkward because the last setting Geof had his phone on was silent, so unless it’s on him or he’s looking at it, we don’t know the phone’s ringing.   The screen is FUBAR’d so we can’t change settings, see text messages, or see who called, but Jan has our home phone number and with six people living here, there’s bound to be at least ONE person here to take a message.  It’s not rocket science and we know he hasn’t called us at home because we asked the kids and nuh… no calls from Jan!

So now I’m thinking that Jan has tried to message Geof to sack him and what the fuck?  Is he Phil Collins now?  What’s wrong with actually TALKING to someone?  Where’s all this “honour” and “respect” that they’re teaching in karate these days?  Am I insane to think that the polite thing to do is actually TALK to a person when you’re sacking them from their voluntary job?

Lynn left a message for Jan to call us on our home phone so that we can figure out for sure what’s going on, but we think it’s because of this new job and I can’t wait to talk to the cowardly moron who thinks he’s a manager.

We’ve had calls from some parents already, voicing their displeasure at the fact that Geof is no longer going to be an instructor at the dojo.  Paying parents that have said that they won’t be taking their kids to the classes anymore because Geof isn’t there.  They have also said that it’s disgraceful the way he’s been treated and if he ever starts classes in Armadale to give them a call.  Parents have asked for a way in which they can give feedback to GKR about Geof’s sacking.

Geof is an excellent instructor.  He’s patient, knowledgeable and he was doing wonders with kids that had some social problems and I am confident that he will do an excellent job when he starts employment tomorrow.

The best part of it all is the fact that his new dojo with Burridge Martial Arts is just down the road from Jan’s residential home, and he’ll get to see how well Geof’s new dojo is going every time he walks out his front door.

Jan Lopez, you suck.  While you might be good at martial arts, as a manager you are sadly lacking.  Your high staff turn-over is evidence of that, and the way that you treated my husband is also a very accurate moral compass as to the type of person you are.  If your business practices are indicative of what management of GKR is like, then I fear that the branching out that GKR is attempting in the US, Canada and UK are gonna fall on their collective asses.  One can only hope that GKR employs capable people who know how to do the  job correctly.  Perhaps you could do a refresher course?  Or maybe… a beginner’s course?

As it is, when we left, instructors in your pussy posse were bitching about the fact that one of them is going to have to do Sundays now, when Geof never whined at all, you idiot.

And yeah… Jan?  Man up and actually talk to us on the phone, you fucking coward.  You’ve been avoiding me since you put Geof’s back at risk with your retarded bowling expedition and know that when you call, you’ll be getting me

No Fear

When I was younger, I used to listen to older people talk about “the old days” and I’d roll my eyes and I swore to myself that I’d never do that, but things these days are just out of control, and now I’m missing MY old days.  My old days weren’t Huck Finn perfect and crime-free, but it was better than it is now.

A fair proportion of children these days have NO respect for anyone or anything and while I would like to blame the kids for this, it’s our fault they’re like this.

I remember reading (or hearing) somewhere that a person who respects their elders has honour not only for others, but for themselves as well and what with the spate of crimes committed against the elderly and infirm (also check out here, here, and here.  There’s tons of them), one can only guess that there is no such thing as honour anymore and I think that disappeared around about the time that self responsibility became a thing of the past.

Kids have no fear now, and I don’t mean fear in a bad way where a kid gets the shit kicked out them every time their drunk dad comes home, I’m talking about the “what if” fear – the fear that if you do something wrong, you’re going to get in trouble for it.  That “wait till your dad gets home” fear when nothing really bad happened, but you shit yourself for hours in your room waiting till dad got home.

When I was a kid, I had fear.  My parents weren’t abusive at all – in today’s society I guess they would be because when I was 13 years old, I came home with a really bad report card.  Dad was furious and he picked me up and tossed me and fuck I was scared, but did I pick up my grades and work to my full potential?  You bet your ass I did.  I went from Basic in everything to Advanced Credit in a few subjects – something I should have been getting in the first place, had I applied myself.  It’s the only time I remember my dad losing his temper with me and it’s a lesson learned that still applies today.  So was it a bad thing?  In hindsight, hell no.

When I was a kid, I didn’t ditch school.  My dad was a cop in the area and my mum was in retail in a large store where nearly everyone knew her.  I had that fear that had I stepped one foot out of school grounds during school time, SOMEONE would have seen me and said something to either parent about how they saw Debbie walking on the street during school hours.  Where could I go anyway?  The store where mum worked?  Doubtful.  Because of that fear, I stayed in school every day unless I was sick and mum knew I was home anyway because she stayed there with me.

When I was a kid, there was a handful of “bad kids”.  They were bad because they smoked, wore tight jeans and desert boots and mouthed off amongst themselves about how tough they were.  It was all bullshit, but back then a kid’s word was gospel when you’re a kid yourself.  I smoked, so I got on fine with them, but I wasn’t a “bad kid”, I was one of those kids who applied themselves (after an appalling high school start) who was only just slightly cool enough to hang with without anyone losing their “bad kid” rep and anyway, I was funny so everyone liked me.

Today, kids beat the shit out of each other and film it so that they can put it on youtube to show what heroes they are.  Girls and boys get the absolute shit kicked out of them, all because it’s awesome to watch it again and again and again on myspace pages.  Kids organise runs through shopping centres where they knock shit off shelves and damage other people’s property and if security guards get involved, you can be guaranteed that a parent will be at the shopping centre within the hour with their little asshole offspring in tow so they can berate the security guard for doing his job and push things as far as getting the security guard sacked – for doing his job.

Think I’m kidding?  I’ve seen it happen, right here in laid back Western Australia and things are so out of control in some suburbs that the elderly are too scared to leave their houses to go shopping.  They can’t even go during school hours because this particular type of kid isn’t even in school.

Kids don’t stay at school anymore.  I can drop my 14 year old daughter off at school and she can then walk off the school grounds and catch the train to wherever and spend the day goofing off with her other truant friends.  We’ve had it happen.  One day, we dropped her off at school and by the time we got to the post office we wanted to get to, she’d hopped a train and made her way to the shopping centre that the post office was located at.  We saw her, got her in the car and took her back to the school, but shouldn’t there be a duty of care at the school?  As the law stands now, if a kid truants, it’s the parents fault, but what about those parents who drop their kid off at the front door of the school and watch their kid enter the school?  How is it the parent’s fault when they’ve done everything possible to ensure their child gets to the school, other than sit in all the classes too?

Most kids these days are little assholes, and the scary thing is these kids are going to be adults one day and they won’t be able to cope.  They will spawn little assholes of their own and those kids will run wild because kids now have no idea about self responsibility, honour, or doing the right thing.  They’re going to be a part of the decision making process when it comes to electing the government that governs the country they live in.

Fuck the law, when it comes to the raising of a child.  Smack it, educate it and love it.  If you’re charged, go to the media and tell them your story – perhaps other parents will start doing it, too.

Kids have the right to live in an abuse-free environment, but so do the rest of us.  We shouldn’t be taking abuse from these little assholes because everyone is too scared to kick their kid up the arse when they do something wrong.

I am proud that I smack my kids when they fuck up bad.  The 14 year old got a kick up the bum for being mouthy and abusive and she told me she hated living with me.  I helped her pack a bag and I told her to piss off if she didn’t like it, so she left.  Two weeks later, she was back, and she is behaving so I guess I’m not that hard to live with after all.

Kids need boundaries and they need rules.  We, as adults, have rules to adhere to.  We must work in order to get a nice house, pay our bills and feed our families.  It’s all well and good that children think they’re clever for telling a teacher to fuck off while they walk out of a classroom, but how do you think that kid is going to go when they’ve got a job?  Do you think their boss is going to stand for that?  Do you think they’ll be fired?

Yeah… exactly.

Australia IV – Australian Fauna – it’s either too freaken cute or too fucken deadly

I remembered I had an Australian Series going.  It only took me nine months to remember, so that’s not too bad.  Right?

Some of our native wildlife.

Platypus (Ornithorhynchus anatinus)

Politically correct organisations must love the platypus because of its oddities and diversity.

They have the bill and webbed feet of a duck, the body of an otter, and the tail of god knows what.  In all honesty, it looks like they were randomly tossed together and allowed to live.

The Platypus has a woolly furred coat and range from 30cm to 45cms in length and the tail about 10 to 15 cms. Their woolly furred coat actually has three different layers. The first layer keeps the animal warm, by trapping air, the second layer which provides an insulating coat for the animal, and lastly the third layer of long flat hairs to detect objects close by. These creatures weigh on average between 1 to 2.4 kilograms. They have an average lifespan of 12 years, although this is rare.  Wild animals think that Platypus tastes just like chicken!

The male platypus have a hollow spur about 15 millimetres in length on the inside of both hind legs. This in turn is connected to a venom gland, and the platypus uses this spur to defend itself against predators. The venom is strong enough to can kill a small dog, or cause excruciating pain among humans.

Saltwater Crocodile (Crocodylus porosus)

The Saltwater Crocodile is the world’s largest reptile. These amazing creatures are found on the northern coast of Australia and inland for up to 100 kms or more. The Saltwater Crocodile has been reported to grow to lengths of 7 metres, but the average size of a Saltwater Crocodile is 4 metres long.  Isn’t that wonderful?

While they usually snack on whatever they can find in their territory, they have also been known to snack on people and they’ll even stalk their prey… like two unfortunate men found out back in 2003.

Interesting story… a German couple are currently trying to sue someone because their son was stupid enough to swim in an area that is teeming with saltwater crocs.  They knew enough English to enter customs, fill out the little forms to declare shit while you go through customs and book their hotel and do all sorts of touristy shit, but didn’t know enough to understand what any of these signs meant.  The stupidity of people amazes me.

Koala (Phasclarctas Cinereus)

The Koala is an icon represented when promoting Australia to the tourist industry, and in general people adore these cuddly creatures, even though most of them are riddled with Chlamydia…

There are two species, the Southern Koalas and the Northern Koalas, and Koalas feed on eucalyptus leaves, which they have a variety of twelve different species to choose from. This is basically the only thing they do eat, although there are a few exceptions but none of those exceptions are human – so far.

Koalas are often referred to as a Koala bear (and that’s pronounced koe-ah-lah, people, not kwoll-ah). However they are not a bear. The name Koala comes from an Aboriginal word. It means “no drink”, as Koalas get enough fluids through the eucalyptus leaves they feed on. Koalas are found all over east Australia, mainly in the south east.

Koalas occasionally make an extremely loud and aggressive growling noise.  They also don’t care if they pee on you.  Charming…

Huntsman Spider (Isopeda Isopedella)

The common huntsman spider is found throughout south-eastern Australia. It lives anywhere, favouring plants which will offer shelter such as ivy.  It is very common to have huntsman spiders in urban areas, and the spiders will come inside your house.

These large spiders move very quickly, they are hairy with long legs.  They often shock people who are not from Australia, as Australia has a reputation for dangerous creatures.  Due to their size (Christ, they’re so freaken big) and speed, they do manage to intimidate a lot of people.

They are also crafty buggers.  Years ago, I had one come into my house and it was so big that its legs almost wrapped around the chimney of our wood heater (the flue had a diameter of about 5 inches).  I like to save them – open every door and clear a path to the front door and then poke the spider with a broomstick, then as it’s running up the length of the broomstick (to eat me), I’ll be running to the front door and tossing the broomstick as far as I can onto the lawn and then retrieving the broom when I think the spider has scuttled off somewhere (one time I did this and the spider took up residence in our meter box and I didn’t know for three weeks.  I’m sure it was the same spider because I’m pretty sure I heard it whisper “deeeeebbbbbbb” when I screamed loud enough to bring neighbours out of their houses) but my ex decided he wanted to kill this particular Huntsman with rolled up newspaper.  Ex aimed, spider watched and when the paper should have connected with the spider, spider had moved at an alarming pace closer to the heater.  This happened several times till ex decided to grab a can of hairspray and a lighter and flame-threw the spider to death.  Nasty.

This may come as a surprise, but these little blighters aren’t deadly or poisonous.  Sure they might bite you, but all you’ll get is a bit of pain and some swelling, so pack something cold in your suitcase to relieve the swelling.

The female huntsman lays up to 200 eggs and guards these eggs, without leaving them or eating for around three weeks.  Isn’t that marvellous?  Two hundred baby Huntsman spiders just waiting to be born into Australia every time a mommy lays her eggs.  Yay!!!

Blue Bottle Jellyfish (Portuguese Man of War) (Physalia utriculus)

In Australia and New Zealand, this jellyfish is known as the blue bottle, due to its colour and shape when strewn on a beach. Elsewhere in the world it is known as the “Portuguese Man o War” as it is said to look like a Portuguese battleship with a sail.

This jellyfish is actually made up of zooids. The blue bottle is not a single organism, but made up of a number of zooids. Each zooid has a specific role and together they function as if it were an animal.

For example a number of zooids will make up the stinging tentacles, others will make up the feeding tentacles, etcetera.  It’s not just one organism after you, IT’S AN ARMY!!!

The blue bottles tentacles can range up to 10 metres in length.  Isn’t that fantastic?  10 metres of barbed goodness just waiting for you to take a dip in the ocean.  Woohooo!!!

If a tentacle attaches itself to a human, it releases a poison (through the use of nematocysts), and if you continue to rub the skin after the tentacle has been removed more poison or venom will be released. If you are stung, it is best to wash the area without touching. A cold pack should be used to relieve the pain. If stung, consult a doctor immediately.

No fatalities have ever been reported within Australia or New Zealand from the sting of a blue bottle, but I can’t say the same for tourists.  Taking vinegar to the beach would probably be a good idea, too.

Blue-Ringed Octopus (Octopodidae, Hapalochlaena)

A blue ringed octopus is only 12 cm long from the top of its body to the bottom of its tentacles. When it feels threatened, small fluorescent blue spots appear over its body. An average blue ringed octopus would weigh less than 90g.

A blue ringed octopus has a beak that forces venomous saliva into the body. For its victim it is deadly. If the blue ringed octopus is near the prey it will jump to bite, but if the prey is a distance away the blue ringed octopus would squirt the venom into the water.

Normally a blue ringed octopus would only bite if picked up, only a few times has a blue ringed octopus done otherwise.

Ten to fifteen minutes after a human has been bitten the first symptoms appear, numbness around the mouth. This will soon spread to the face and neck. By this time the person may have trouble breathing, swallowing and speaking. They will soon have nausea and vomiting. If the person is treated immediately after bitten there is a good chance they won’t live.

The blue ringed octopus is found living around the coast of Australia. It is mainly found in shallow waters and in rocky pools.  An old school friend of mine found out the hard way that, sometimes, blue ringed octopi will find themselves in an abandoned coke can (or other can).  Quite frankly, the idiot school friend shouldn’t have picked up the coke can that she found on the shore, nor should she have put it to her lips to drink it – it could have been anything.  As it was, it was the home of a blue ringed octopus, and she got bitten on her face.

She lived.

The Great White Shark (Carcharodon carcharias)

The Great White Shark or the “Great White” belongs to a group of sharks named Mackerel Sharks. Its name was derived from the shark’s white underbelly. They are solitary animals, but have also been reported to swim in pairs or groups. They are found on all coasts of Australia, and furthermore throughout the World.

They range between 3.5 to 5 metres long, and weigh on average 1,300kg. The females are large than males. The Great White is grey in colour from the top, and white underneath. They have on average 2,800 teeth in their mouth, all in rows and triangle in shape. They are slanted on an angle inwards, which helps keep hold of their prey.

Great White’s also eat animals that are already dead.  They attack their prey once, and then wait and let their prey bleed to death (Jaws got it SO wrong). They have an amazing sense of smell, and can pick up blood in water a long way away. This helps them to track down their prey, or potential prey.

Yes, they do eat people.  Lots of people really, or just parts of people – usually surfers.  At last sighting, Great Whites do not have lasers, nor can they walk on land – yet…

Red Kangaroo (Macropus rufus)

The red kangaroos is the giant of the Australian kangaroos. It is widespread over the mainland. It lives on grasses, and often lives in quite big mobs. It can leap up to five metres long in a jump and so is quite fast over short distances to escape danger.

When adult males are breeding they will often fight each other, face to face, boxing with their front paws and then giving gigantic double kicks with their back legs.  Check out the back feet on one of these suckers and see if you still think they’re cute.

Because of the climate extremes in Australia, the kangaroos have adapted to the break or bust cycles. In droughts many kangaroos will die because there is no feed at all. But in a good season the female can have three young one with her: one as an embryo just starting off and not yet born, one in the pouch who draws a special milk supply from the mother , and another just out who gets milk from a different nipple. So suddenly there can be a population explosion.

They also taste great, and no… they don’t bounce down city streets – regardless of what other people have told you.

Emu (Dromaius novaehollandiae)

The Emu is a large flightless bird. They stand to be 1.5 to 2 metres tall, and on average weight 36 kilograms. They have 3 toes, and long legs which allows them to run extremely fast. They also have a talon on each foot that has the ability to gut you in the blink of an eye.  In this species, the female is larger than the male.

Emu’s feed on grass, leaves and small insects. They live all over Australia in grasslands.  Emus also love light brown or blonde coloured hair.  A friend of mine had an emu living at her house (along with deer and peacocks) and my oldest daughter (at that time, 4) had light coloured hair.  The emu pecked at her head and through my hysterical screaming, I could hear my friend mentioning that hair that colour resembles bread to an emu.

Stupid fucking emu.

The female lays up to 20 eggs, which are large and are soft dark green in colour (a nest can be up to 1.5 metres wide). These eggs are often prized not only by humans for decoration pieces, but by animals as a food source. The male incubates the eggs for a period of 7-8 weeks, and does not leave the nest for this period. When the eggs hatch, the male emu looks after the hatchlings for another six months.

When they make a noise, it sounds like a blocked drain trying to clear itself out.

The Goblin (anti christ, spawn of satan)

Possibly the most dangerous of all animals in Australia, the Goblin gives off the impression that she is cute, fluffy and butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

Do NOT be deceived people.

We have eye witness accounts of her bringing down the family dog, making older cats cry and we’re pretty sure she was the one responsible for bailing Cheyenne up in a corner for three hours when Cheyenne made the mistake of opening up a tin of Spaghetti Oops and the Goblin thought it was cat food.

The Goblin is a ferocious hunter and it is not unusual to hear any one of the family members suddenly screaming out an expletive as they nurse a bleeding thumb, usually brought upon by the Goblin when a human has made the mistake of cutting up meat on the kitchen counter and not bothered to share the icky fatty bits with the Goblin.

It is not uncommon for humans to count their fingers after hand-feeding the Goblin – just to make sure a digit wasn’t taken during the feeding frenzy.

Many, MANY band aids have given their lives because of the Goblin – torn out of sterile packages way before their time.

We grieve for the band aids, and our fingers.

Quokka (Setonix branchyuras)

Yes, they really are this bloody cute.  Don’t you just wanna steal one and hug it and pet it and call it George?

The Quokka is found in Western Australia, mainly on Rottnest Island (near Perth). They also exist in small groups on the mainland in bushland surrounding Perth. They thrive in a warm climate, living among bushland in tall grass. They create their own trails and paths for feeding and escaping predators.

Quokkas resemble a small wallaby, with small rounded ears, and brown or greyish fur. These animals breed year round, and have a gestation period of 4 months before a new joey is born. The joey lives in its mother’s pouch for the first 25 weeks of its life. After leaving the pouch, the joey continues to suckle at its mother’s teets for a further 10 weeks.

Quokkas feed at night on grasses or leaves, however they can go for long periods of time without feeding or water.  Quokkas also recycle a small amount of their bodies waste products.

The Quokka is damn cute and damn fluffy – one of the few animals indigenous to Australia who don’t try to kill you, so to all those assholes in Australia who think it’s fun to play “Quokka Soccer“, you’re an asshole and one can only hope that, one day, a stray bullet finds its way into your skull and you die a slow and painful death.

As a wrap up, there are many, many, MANY animals indigenous to Australia, and new fauna is being discovered all the time.  I’ve only named a few because, contrary to popular belief, I do have a life and naming everything would take too damn long.

The prize doesn’t always go to the most deserving

There recently was a death of a 98  year-old lady named Irena.

During WWII, Irena got permission to  work in the Warsaw Ghetto as a Plumbing/Sewer specialist, but she had an ‘ulterior motive’.

She knew what the Nazi’s plans were for the Jews, so Irena smuggled infants out in the bottom of the tool box she carried and she also had, in the back of her truck, a burlap sack for larger kids.  She also had a dog in the back that she  trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the  ghetto. The soldiers wanted nothing to do with the dog and the barking covered the kids/infants noises.

Eventually, Irena managed to smuggle out and save over 2,500 kids/infants. She was caught, and the Nazi’s broke both her  legs, arms and beat her severely.

Irena kept a record of the  names of all the kids she smuggled out and kept them in a glass  jar, buried under a tree in her back yard. After the war, she  tried to locate any parents that may have survived, and  reunited the family.

Most parents had been gassed, so Irena helped those children by organising foster care and adoptions.

In 2007, Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize… She was not selected.

Al Gore won, for a slide show on Global  Warming.

This was sent in an email.  I know I’m behind the times…

Stop Smoking and Save the Planet

Wait, wait.  It’s not what you think.

Due to recent health issues, I thought it would be a good idea to quit smoking… again.  So I’ve got myself on patches again and I’ve been having really really weird dreams, including one that I’m going to attempt to explain to you right now.

I’ve been thinking about Earth and how she’s faring and then I got to thinking about the ozone layer and all and it must have still been playing on my mind when I went to sleep.

In pictures!!!

We already have satelites up in space, so I don’t know why we don’t already utilise what we’ve got and expand from that.

The problem is our ozone layer is fucked and UV rays are getting in and burning people and warming up the planet, so how do we fix that, but still retain our technological lifestyle?

Simple!  We place buoys in the water, or already use the ones we have in the ocean and fit them with some kind of relay (this is all up to a future scientist – I’m just the ideas person m’kay?) that bounces up into the sky and connects with a satelite which then bounces the beam back to that relay and relays placed all over the world.  These relays can be in the desert, on top of buildings, anywhere…

The beam that is relayed all over the place would be a light beam that scientists have determined is at the correct frequency to filter out the harmful UV rays while still allowing the sun to do its job.

With all these light beams, planes (and flying saucers) could still traverse our skies unhindered because they’ll only be flying through harmless light beams.

The Earth could continue to evolve while protecting all of the life on its surface from skin cancer and because less UV rays are coming through, the Earth may also be able to cool down a little and we’d retain most of the ice we still have.

The Earth is happy.

Sure there are things to think about, like the countries that wouldn’t want to participate, or think that it’s a way for other countries to spy on them, but just how far up does a country’s “space” go?  Isn’t there a limit to how high up the air goes before the rest of the world thinks “nuh… there’s no way that belongs to you now.  That’s the universes”?

Get enough relays down on Earth and it wouldn’t take much to cover the planet in a beam of UV protected light.

As I said, it was from a dream, but what do you all think?

Edit: I posted this on my Multiply page 12 August 2009, and have since found out this, from wiki wiki wack:

We could so do this…