This evening again - the stench began blowing in from the methamphetamine lab over the road.
After a while the stink of ozone began drifting in.
A double whammy for us yet again.
We cop the effluent from their brewing meth – then their industrial scale clean-up with that ozone generator afterward.
So faced with that you call ‘crimestoppers’ ™ in order to make a lawful complaint about being poisoned.
Call – be abused by experts, only to have them hang up the phone.
Call again – the same and then again.
Become annoyed enough to keep calling – mainly because we all are becoming rather sick.
The victim becomes the problem - according to them.
So some tough bastard comes to the phone – refuses to give his name, rank and number and insists that I’m the problem.
I’m the problem and I happen to live in the electorate of our police minister.
Of course I’m the problem in this electorate of the police minister for the simple reason that I do not want to live downwind from a methamphetamine lab condoned by his police in his electorate.
I’m the problem because I’m beside myself with worry about my Lady Wife and my son.
I don’t give a fuck about myself. Other than worrying about my own waterworks failing abysmally.
I have put it to his meth brewing mates over the road that I have no problem with their games so long as they leave us alone and for them to find a way to conduct their activities without poisoning us.
But that isn’t good enough for them.
I don’t see why why we should die for the greater good of the drugfucked employees of the mining industry.
Nor do I see why I should be in eternal conflict with corrupt cops.
Believe me when I say that queensland was buggered beyond recall under the laborites.
Now the newmanites have it – she’s really a colossal failure.