Saturday, May 4, 2013


I googled “halfwit at "xx zitty" street.”
I don’t know why.

Other than the fact that for some reason at first thing in the morning somewhere between five to a dozen vehicles arrive there in order to open what we’ve always called a ‘chew and spew’. Over the road, opposite us; if you understand.

It finally came to my consciousness that the ‘chew and spew’ over the road had become a ‘money laundering apparatus’.

As it happens I’ve lived ‘across the road’ from this establishment for a little more than 59 years, have seen quite a number of proprietors come and go over the years.

None of ‘em have ever made a go of it for many of those years – apparently until recently.

Some of ‘em have lived in and kept a vehicle or two – some have resided elsewhere else and usually never needed more than one or two vehicles to keep the shop running and/or servicing the other occupation that’s usually been necessary to keep that business viable.

It fascinates me how the present lot seem to manage to keep the show going with bugger all customers of the regular sort going away with anything like a soggy baggy of fish and chips clutched in their craggy hands.
Essentially, there’s bugger all than about a dozen of their sort.

These days, that pretence has dissolved.
 The lurkers turn up and swap a fistful of cash for a ziplock bag of happy beans – out front as transparent as you’d like.

What amuses us is how the show seems to revolve about numerous brand-new vehicles turning up in the morning.

How the operation has about four ABN references these days?
And something else out the back ( another ABN with no names attached to the documentation?)  providing an excuse for those involved to go out wearing those flouro shirts and retroflective striped jeans favoured by important people in the mining/resources industry, etc.

In short, their activities look good at first glance – but despite the number of vehicles turning up there at start of business, the chew and spew has bugger all customers – an unsustainable amount of customers while little else seems to happen out the back where the other business is claimed to happen..
In fact it all seems to be a bit of a snow job.
Or is that an ‘ICE’ job?

F’r god’s sake, once upon a time we might have appreciated being bombed out every day for free. These days we are dying by degrees – what with is blowing in the wind through our windows all day.

A reasonable person would want to either tell the jerkoffs to piss off and annoy someone else – or arrive at a decent negotiatedf price.

They can either stop poisoning us or buy us out.

We call ‘em the ‘pigdogs’.

Of course, the ‘pigdog’ shiteheels won’t offer that.

To continue -
Might that be why we tend to wake up a little late in the mornings these last few years – often puking up?
Serious stuff; puking your heart out and waving arms about trying to get your circulation going.
What does that have to do with the morning scene across the road?
As we shake our arms awake and take our daily issue of Brufen™ to get our limbs working.

Could that have anything to do with the increasingly ‘interesting clientele’ who seem to visit the establishment these days without taking away a package of food?

As it happens the incidence of our ‘unwellness’ does seem to coincide with the abberant customers over the road.

Maybe that’s why visitors to that shop more often end up lying senseless in the gutters around here lately?
Last night, I saw one bloke lying senseless in the gutter being rolled over, having his pockets searched by a person who had the remarkably similar physique as the bloke managing (for the time being) that chew and spew.

A particular friend of mine who happens to live out of town persists in parking over the other side of the road directly beside this establishment.
Doing that provides him the opportunity to complain about the chemical stench coming from the place.

And –

He enjoys ribbing me about the fact that our regional council continues to ignore their activities there.
He enjoys jabbing his elbow in to remind me about how corrupt our police are.
He reckons he can get away with that little joke since his mum’s family name is Hurley of Palm Island fame.

Then, as it happens, the regional government councilor for our area is a star.
He is Vince Habermann, oam.(whatever oam means)
Vince is an inveterate sportsman who used to work for the bloke who is our local state member and now our police minister.
I’m sure the reader will get the connection.

While we’ve been talking to another hero of the common man for the last several years; one Ross Sommerfeld of that same outfit of acquisitive bludgers –
And it appears that they actually CONDONE people dying by degrees in their own homes while they’re being gassed out by neighbourhood meth production and their somewhat bogan customers forgetting that they are leaving their vehicles running, unsecured everywhere about the streets in their haste to do a deal for some reds or some xtal meth across the road..

But don’t take this the wrong way, though.
Just because I’m am old fart these days doesn’t mean that I’m some holy joe, straight arrow conservative.
Just because these suckers over the road are selling really bad shit to a lot of people who should know better doesn’t worry me overmuch.
Firstly, if they are going to the chew and spew to buy lunch – it would pay them to take a good sniff before they went through the door.
If they did, they’d be puking before they ever ordered lunch.
If they are there to score something else, they should also mark the smell – ‘cause that might give them the hint that their newly acquired cache might be somewhat below the standards of our therapeutic drugs administration.
But I guess the desperate are just that – completely desperate.

‘Which, I suppose, is why I noticed this familiar, shadowy form going through the pockets of an unconscious bloke lying in the footpath half way up our street last night, 3 May, 2013.

Sort of raises questions, doesn’t it?
How the hell was ‘garcon’, busy in his ‘chew and spew’, even aware that some drug sotted idiot was konked out half-way up the street?
Why was he so twitchy all the time that some people in a SUV stayed there, apparently waiting for ‘assistance’ to arrive.
Why, as soon as he’d encouraged them to piss off, did he go through the supine person’s pockets.
Why did he then pocket something he’d found there.
Why did he have to run back to his shop, then (when we’ve noticed he always keeps a mobile phone pocketed in the same way a cop keeps a glock).
(Oh, sorry, the running back to the shop tended to confirm that the shadowy figure standing over the supine person of interest was the bloke from that shop at question.

Then, shortly after, along came the gendarmerie. The paddy wagon with lights on high beam.
By then, of course, the body had magically disappeared off the footpath (I’d say into that dosshouse, next door, with the blacked out windows and all the air-conditioners) and everything was fine in this sorry little corner of regional queensland and all right with the world.

I am not any sort of toolhead of the likes that they are proving to be.
I may be a bit ancient and so is my Lady Wife.
Those jerks down the street, for some time now have had the prevailing wind coming our way from their little enterprise.
This year, Praise the weather, we’ve had a little break.

That little break has given us some time to work out why we’ve been sick as dogs for some years now.

That break has also given me enough time to speak (Hah, what a joke that is) with our system of governance and ask for their help with the situation.

Essentially, the ‘system of governance’ in any way manner, or form, gives not a friggin’ continental.

I’m not sure whether this means Gillard, Abbott, Newman, Langbroek, and wassisname (the local burgerking) Forman all keep getting out of bed at dawn by way of drug assistance – but it would not surprise me.
One thing for sure is that none of the bludgers care about people who have to endure bloody mindedness, hate, threats and ongoing violence from the sort of stupid berks invading their traditional space.

Let’s put that more precisely –
In this modern queensland steadholders, landholders, are increasingly being subject to violence, threats and all sorts of duress from those pretending to be the agents of governance – to have them removed, by those means, from their land.

This whole show is about all one could expect from their tiny minded sort – and fuckem!

In conclusion – these lines may be somewhat discordant.
That’s for the simple reason that the shitheads over the road have been brewing their poison all night.
How in God’s name is a person able to write well while the meth brewers have been pumping out their filth all night long?
Would a respectable meth addict expect that he.she’d be subject to the effluvium of the production of the filth they’d take into their systems?
What is the problem with  mr police minister Dempsey that he condones – gives free reign to this sort of thing in his own electorate – affords that about two street blocks away from his pal bob butler in the police boy’s youth club

Why the hell newman gave that turkey the job of police minister defeats any sort of logic.

There is something terribly wrong that cannot ever be managed, or written off the scales of misery which has happened as history in this sorry place.
While queensland and Australia supports a system whereby the scum can walk in and subsume decent people in their environs and own abodes – that sort of scurroulous undertaking will be followed by worse from the sort that is being permitted to come to set up their own establishments here.

In two or less decades Australia will be governed by the sort who have no principle whatsoever.
Even you stupid, goddamned bogans will find yourselves alienated by a mor vigorous, somewhat nasty and quite murderous sort from southern asia.

Enjoy that. You deserve it in result of your pig-ignorance and complacency.

Next week, I might take the time to clip some happy snaps onto this blog.

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