Sunday, December 1, 2013


We’ve been away on holidays.
We left Arthur in charge of the office.
Our mistake.

While we were away a truckload of shit happened here in queensland.
Once again, our mistake for not tracking what was happening here.

Poor old Arthur, minding the shop, must have become somewhat carried away with local issues.

I can’t blame him.

Must have been a fair trial being gassed out with the meth lab down the street.
Wake up in the morning gasping for breath – the inside of your mouth shrunk to buggery.

Having to stay awake until first light while screaming, drug challenged, wankers prance up and down the street all night.

But as I said – that’s what we pay you for, Arthur.

Admittedly, he has a point.
When he was younger – he could go out there and bash a few heads together.
These nights, the filth is out there with their camcorders waiting for some honest citizen to reclaim the peace – by quietly bashing a few heads together.

The BIG question remains –

Why are the filth (in the electorate of the police minister) on the side of those brewing drugs and those causing grief?

Some time soon the minister for thuggery has to come clean and answer this sort of question.

Reasonable queenslanders/newmanians/boganvillians would put it this way –
“Hey dickhead – I know your brother is some sort of real-estate magnate – but does that mean we have to move out of our home – move under a bridge and do without – so you bludgers can sell up our properties for your fun and profit?

They might well go on to say something like this –
So who the fuck are you scheming bastards?
What the hell is all this jazz smut about bikies – when your klatch employ utter shiteheels in various industries (or pretending to be attached to various industries) in our home state.
So come on Dempsey and newman – you base bastards – what scheming, shitfilled, game are you fuckwits playing this week?

Now, is there some other way of putting it to you?

Is there some way it could graze your incredibly thick skulls – leastways enough to let the message get through – that you are screwing about with honest and decent people’s lives.

Let me put it this way –
It is ‘you and your associates’ who are acting criminally.
It is your police minister who has condoned and abetted a stinking, poisonous meth-factory upwind from my home.

It is my lady wife who has had to seek ‘help’ from the corrupted state health system with that.

I’d go so far as suggesting here that it has been me – these last many months bellowing about that hjere in cyberspace – that has caused your meth-brewing pig-dog pals to fuck off down the steeet.
To fuck off down the street and give us a break from their poison.

By now you must realise that I’m not particularly enthused with you suckholes?

So why the hell can’t you make a simple phonecall to your meth-brewing mates in my corner of the world.

Just call ‘em up and ask them to fuck off – go somewhere else and go poison someone else.

Here they are –

In your tiny minds it is about ‘urban redevelopment’.

In my mind’s eye it is about fucking with our lives.

In exactly the same way the losers down the road want to sell this monstrosity –

What can I say.

Hold back you punters and take my advice.
Wait a few days and buy cheap.

The mining boom is now bust.
The dickheads wearing their fluoro shirts are being sacked out of hand.
And if you wait a while –

then you’ll score a bargain.

No comments:

Post a Comment