Monthly Archives: August 2009

NFSFFW

What does NFSFFW mean? Well, Not Safe For Work is NSFW, then we have Not Fucking Safe for Fucking Work.

I’m trying to warn you, that in this post in particular, if you’re offended by bad language, you had better run away. This post is offensive. Nice, huh? I’ve probably guaranteed everyone will read right to the end. It’s mostly pictures, it’s not like it will strain you.

WARNING: CHILDREN, SHUT YOUR EYES NOW!
VERY BAD LANGUAGE AHEAD

There are a lot of people searching for ponies and ending up on this blog. You probably want to close this window now, before you’re inducted into the Queen of Darkness’s armies.

****

What am i enraged about today? Hmm… let’s see. Aside from the usual, like the government’s plans to censor the internet for all Australians, i’m not feeling super enraged. I thought instead i’d show you some pretty pictures. Ready?

Here we go!

just the thing for the church picnic

just the thing for the church picnic, & thought-provoking

Hmm… i don’t know if I want that one, people might think i’m a believer. There’s always shock value ….

i'm not sure i'm this much of an attention whore

i'm not sure i'm this much of an attention whore

In the end, i designed my own.

Finbert rides again

Finbert rides again

Root means ‘sex’ in Australian, by the way – ‘wanna root?’ = ‘wanna fuck’. Yep, i think i’ll go with the one above – that poor fish, he’s had a workout.

Finbert also appeared in this post, where he was sexually abused by Burt Lancaster. It wasn’t Burt’s fault, it was a typo – you see, that fish is a cichlid. Read the post, seriously, it makes sense there. Well, as much sense as i ever make.

I was reading back over some posts while chasing down links for this and noticed that my most popular posts remain the ones you think are sexual (aside from whichever is the newest one).

You still can’t get enough Camel Toe for the Beginner – which does have camel toe, but also has bizarre fetishes, just so nobody gets lonely.

Another hawt sexy post Toaster Sex Will Rot Your Brain is actually a very nice rant on the unfairness of being banned because i have breasts. I still love the pics i did for that one. There’s something about toaster sex.

Yeah, i know most visitors are not really admiring the size of my brain or my cute pictures. Or even my Minions’ Badges. You’re looking for porn. (Or ponies, various birds, Antichrist humor, penectomies, and sex dolls. Seriously. And people say I’m weird.)

I do have a disclaimer somewhere that points out that when i mention sex, i do put in enough jokes to make it highly interruptive if you’re trying to masturbate. And i really wasn’t serious about inserting furniture.

If you like the two tshirts at the top, and want one, click the pic to go the shops that sell them.

I think the third one rocks. I want one of those! Where’s my Number One Minion? Make it so, Number One!

*****

In other news – there are at least 17 people visiting my blog every day! SEVENTEEN! Wow.

Seventeen people is enough for a death squad, this is so cool!

Bless you, dear little minions Beloved Visitors.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com


Welcome to Junkie Country!

I was reading (the funny and thoughtful) Bern Morley’s blog So Now What? When i googled her to check her website address later, this Tweet of hers popped up…

Bern_Morley I think Dr Phil fails to realise this woman is probably menopausal. Give her some fucking hormones and she’ll be AOK.

Sort of sums up her appeal for me – she speaks her mind, and she’s funny – she doesn’t swear much, usually, but she’s a mum, so under extreme stress at all times  – and yes, i recommend you follow her on Twitter. (I recommend you follow me too – though at the moment i’m focused on my book, so not tweeting or blogging much.)

I was reading Bern’s blog post  where she talked about people smoking round kids in 80’s Queensland and how she still sees people lighting up around children. I was surprised people were still smoking with kids in the car then – my parents used to, but that was in the 1960’s and 1970’s.

However, i reminded myself that only a couple of years ago, a very pregnant 25 yr old neighbour nearly made me fall off my chair when she lit up a cigarette. Her 45 yr old mother, who was there, seemed to think it was alright, because she rolled her daughter the cigarette. Two days later, out popped her (underweight, chesty) baby.

I admit, i’m stunned anyone is still pretending it’s okay. Even if you can’t give up, you can’t pretend it’s good for you. You can’t be that stupid, and you can’t be that ill-informed (in a Western country, that is – sadly the tobacco companies are still making lots of money and it’s rising every year in Asia and Africa).

You couldn’t pretend otherwise after about the mid-70’s even in Western Australia, which was a bit like the US in the 50’s, but during the 60’s & 70’s. Suddenly they admitted the cig companies were lying, having told us for years there was no proof it did cause cancer – I was already addicted by then.

The first time i tried to stop, and then realised i couldn’t – I was 14ish. I was probably addicted to secondary smoke before i left the womb, although my mother stopped smoking during all her pregnancies, my father didn’t, (he even smoked in bed) and no man went outside to smoke in 1960.

It actually took me, despite knowing all those years, another 30 or so to give up. This is what being an addict means. Your will to stop isn’t necessarily going to get you there. (It will if you keep at it, but most smokers retreat to “well, i tried, and everyone said for god’s sake, smoke, you’re horrible without them” – yeah, like that’s a reason to stop trying, junkie.)

I tried several times, managed up to six months a couple of them, didn’t last the week more often. In 2002, my father died of lung cancer. I still smoked. I didn’t even try to give up.

Back in the late 60’s and early 70’s, there were lots of cigarettes marketed to women, and advertised on television and in magazines. Smoking was cool, sophisticated, and an easy way to be older – adults who didn’t smoke were a tiny minority, remember – and it also became a way to show teen rebellion.

I bet it’s even cooler for teens now, seeing as everyone’s trying to stop you, even the government has stopped pretending they believe the tobacco companies any more, (woo hoo, a taste of nicotine-soaked teen rebellion, anyone?) and you know it’s at least a 50% chance it will kill you. Gosh, even driving drunk doesn’t have that kind of attrition rate and smouldering bad boy/grrl danger.

Smoking does kill that many smokers, and it will stunt your children’s growth and lead to problems for them, mentally and physically – whether in the womb or in the room.

However, I do wish they wouldn’t pretend it ages you as much as they do in those ads on the television – those awful haggard toothless women aren’t that way from just smoking. That’s a lifetime of misery, alcoholism, &/or heavy drug addiction written on those faces.

Alcoholism is just frequent binge drinking, btw – and that’s the clue, if you can’t stop once you open a bottle, unless you pass out first – maybe google ‘signs of alcoholism’.

Booze is a drug, like cigs, one the government also makes megabucks out of while it destroys families, relationships, and lives. They do the same with other addictions like gambling.

With booze, they’ll happily tax it, and send you to gaol if you break the law under the influence, despite them saying, alcohol fucks with your brain, you can’t tell how messed up you are, so don’t drink and drive – but it’s alright for you to drink at home, lose all your usual morals, and bash your family.  People are destroyed by booze.

Smoking, on the other hand, kills you in several horrible ways. Heart Disease? Lung cancer? Something slower? Emphysema?  Take your pick, they’re all fun. Of course, it also costs a fortune, and causes you to crawl in abject subjugation to a legal drug, the whole of your (shorter than average) life.

That’s what got me in the end. Getting older meant every year took me closer to the diagnosis of lung cancer. One of my uncles gave up for 20 years and still died of it, one was diagnosed at my age, so i know my own chances still aren’t good.

This drug, nicotine, is one the government keeps legal, but taxes higher, and higher – despite most people who now smoke being poor, and cost being negligible when one is addicted to a drug – or why would heroin/crack/meth addicts steal to fuel their habits?

People already buy their cigs and booze, then pay their bills, and buy food for their families. They go gambling and spend the rent money, while the government rakes in the money- maybe think about that, next time you vote.

The huge joke about my dad dying of lung cancer is, he’d given up a couple of months before they discovered the cancer, (having smoked for 50+ years) because of his heart condition, which needed surgery. He thought it was funny, anyway.

Oh yes, i’m doomed, both sides of the family have heart trouble – my father’s two brothers also died of either lung cancer or heart problems, while they also had lung cancer/heart problems. It extends into the grandparents.

So, there i was, tired of being scared every time i breathed in that smoke i craved, that didn’t really satisfy, and so tired of being Nicotine’s bitch. Tired of collecting adequate  supplies plus a spare lighter every time i moved position in the living room, let alone went on a whole day’s journey somewhere.

I gave up for seven months. Cold turkey, with no drug assistance, and no help from the biggest lie of all – therapeutic nicotine. It’s a poison, don’t keep taking it – i don’t know anyone who’s given up using therapeutic nicotine – i know lots who tried.

So there I was – completely clean, scary or what? I discovered my breaking point – i thought the end of the world had come.

We were flooded in for 4 days one midwinter, with no power, no food, and a dwindling supply of tea candles (the tiny ones you use for meditation) to warm water enough for tepid cupasoups.

We couldn’t heat any food, though we had a fair bit, as there was sewage in the floodwaters and we couldn’t get anything hot enough to stop food poisoning.

This was an extra worry as Mr Whatsit was just out of hospital after spinal surgery, confined to a stiff neck brace. He kept going outside (on the veranda, well above the water)  to survey the flood and have a smoke. He seemed much happier than me. On the third day, i said, give me one!

I was hooked again.

It took me six weeks to break the habit again. I used marijuana to break it that time, after having trouble with insane cravings. I’d go have a puff on a water pipe whenever the cravings hit insane levels. I have smoked grass for 20 yrs on and off, and it’s not addictive, sugar puffs – this junkie knows addictive.

I have a dear friend who has struggled since she was about 14 with addiction to heroin. She says giving up heroin was a walk in the park compared to giving up smoking.

Since I gave up the last time it’s been two years. Two years yesterday. I’m quite surprised, and only last week had an out-of-the-blue craving for tobacco, under stress. (Yes, i still smoke marijuana – if you have a problem with that, you’re on the wrong blog.)

As the cigarette craving hit last week, I reminded myself that i wasn’t flooded in with no freaking food or heat, my partner only four weeks out of surgery, so having a cigarette wasn’t a rational response.

Mistress Nicotine was still crooning her siren song, telling me i’d feel better, and didn’t i deserve a little treat? Hadn’t i missed her, didn’t i still sometimes think, ah, a cig would be nice right now?

I hit her over the head with a mallet. Fucking cow. I distracted myself, I lied and said i could have one tomorrow if i still felt that way. I had a bong, I cleaned my teeth with a mint flavoured toothpick, I chopped veggies for dinner and ate some raw- in short, everything i could think of to stop myself doing it.

When it comes down to it, it’s really going to have to be the end of the world, before i have another cigarette. With my family’s predilections for dying of heart disease or lung cancer, (which are smoking-related diseases, lest we forget), continuing to smoke was suicidal – and i’m not suicidal.

I was suicidal when i realised i was hooked. i remember thinking how awful it was, being an addict, what a failure i was – at only 14. I’ve no doubt it had a negative effect on my life and my behaviour.

So, if you’re trying to give up, and getting depressed, instead of smoking again, Google for help in your area, and call or visit the sites for support.

In Australia, there’s the Quit Line, 13 78 48 – specifically for those trying to give up.

If it’s making you feel like death’s better (or any time you’re down, depressed, suicidal), you can call Lifeline 131 114, Mensline 1300 789 978, and the BeyondBlue info line 1300 22 4636  -with thanks to the friend who supplied those.

Everyone i know well who has tried to or has given up has suffered the most awful welling up of psychological debris, much of it problems they thought they’d dealt with.

Many of them couldn’t stand it, and went back to smoking. I remember my father trying to give up back in the 70’s. If he’d done it, he might still be alive, which would annoy my mother in a most satisfying way.

If you’re one of the lucky ones, who stops, has no problems, and never looks back – you were smoking why? *rolls eyes* I cannot understand why anyone who could stop wouldn’t just do it.

My mother did that. After smoking for about fifty years most days, but not a lot every day, except in social situations, she had a heart attack, and because her doctor said it would be a good idea, she stopped.

Without any cravings at all. Gawd.

*****

For those of you only born yesterday (any time since the 70’s i spose) the title is a pun on the old Marlboro™ cigarette  commercials,
“Welcome to Marlboro Country”

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com


Did i ever pretend to be normal?

The voices outside-my-head have decided to do a post. I’m high enough to not care, and Her Majesty is busy carving her initials in the throne, so they think they can fit a word in edgeways.

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

I did mention I’m not all here, being part-cat – I was raised by Siamese cats, which of course, means i’m not like normal girls. The nurture-versus-nature debate has no idea what that war does inside my head.

Outside my head, the voices are nice, and never tell me to hurt anyone – quite the opposite, they do a lot of “Stop, that will hurt someone badly for no good reason.” I know you’re just a person like me, no matter that I am convinced i’m the centre of the universe.

However, inside me there’s a Siamese, looking inscrutable and totally Zen, saying “We will play with it before We kill it. Yesss?” In moments of stress, the urge to lash out before anything bad happens sometimes overwhelms me.

tombstone

i did warn you

I know, i know – i sound quite mad. I have no idea why they wouldn’t give me a certificate of insanity – they laughed and said i was the sanest person they knew. With this mind? What is wrong with psychologists?

Who – in the name of all that’s dusted with pixie dust – do they hang out with? Scientologists? My belief system is way more crazy-than-thou, (and i’m apparently competitive over it), with heaps of contradictions that even i can see.

I’ve reached a point where I don’t care. It works for me. I’m not hurting anyone – quite the opposite. I’m not trying to indoctrinate you, this is My Church, and frankly, my worship is a private thing, my covenant with the gods is my own.

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

Siamese consider themselves (like every cat, but more so), just visiting from The Wild, while taking advantage of everything humans can offer in way of comfort.

I too hold contradictory notions, my pantheon has no trouble with worshipping Science while i dabble in the Occult, believe in Reincarnation, and some kind of Universal Spirit which might be God or more probably – gods. I also sometimes look at it all from a purely scientific viewpoint – I know that it doesn’t matter.

What do you mean, Deathbringers a funny name for a cat?

Ah, a mortal - greetings - you have brought tribute?

I also quite like the idea of being a deity myself, (seriously, i’m much better at managing the lives of others than i am with my own, like most gods), though cult followers are disconcerting, as i get paranoid when people are behind me.

However, someone saying, hey, i really like what you’re doing, is exactly like injecting happiness, so don’t stop, those who get the urge.

Whatever i believe, i live my life as if it was the last one. It’s what you’re supposed to do. Enjoy it. It doesn’t mean partying crazily every night or fucking as many people as you can, or making as much money as you can – none of those things by themselves bring joy.

Enjoy simply means, have joy with it. To quote Monty Python…

Life’s a piece of shit,
When you look at it.
Life’s a laugh and death’s a joke it’s true.
You’ll see it’s all a show.
Keep ’em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.
And…

Always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the right side of life.

Yes, i’m the Queen of Darkness – of course i enjoy black humour. The voices want to know how we ended up singing Monty Python songs.

Do i need a reason?

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

Thus endeth the lesson.

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com


so, how big is your virtual penis?

I dropped in on the Bloggess’s blog – i want a Jenny doll that dispenses pills and vodka, is nearly raped by giraffes (that was a couple of months ago), screams at Victor, oh, yeah, and offers William Shatner a hooker *snigger*  – there’s a merchandising opportunity for someone.

WAIT! Don’t click that link, you’ll be gone for hours, read the rest of this one, then go enjoy the Bloggess.

She mentioned Robert Scoble (aka @Scobelizer) unfollowing people on Twitter. So, through Jenny, (as i then checked) i discovered Mr Scoble had unfollowed me – i was one of the 102,000. (This is me resisting the urge to scream SPARTA and attack Mr Scoble with a short sword.) He now only follows people he knows, fellow-geeks, and (powerful) people he admires. [note, i had to change the link after Mr Scoble removed the post – that link’s on Mashable, and they also reference the post he removed.]

WAIT! Don’t click that link either, it’s not relevant. *takes the safety off the Hello Kitty Kalashnikov* Don’t make me shoot you before i give you the potted version.  Oh frick, i suppose you’re going to read it now.

It’s basically him saying omg how amazing, if you pay attention to who your followers on Twitter are, and don’t just follow back blindly, you have a better experience. Shock, horror! (Alright, so he has interesting bits on his blog you might like, i suppose you could look at it after you read The Bloggess.)

He followed TheBloggess back after a few hours. She’s both admirable and powerful (and should be getting megabucks *gives meaningful stare at those who have megabucks*), and he knows her in real life *sighs* triple whammy.

Anyway, i didn’t mind him unfollowing, it was silly of him to be following me, as we don’t talk; i’m not a geek (i am not! I haven’t programmed in a decade and i was never interested, I only did it because it was useful); i’m not famous or powerful, (yet); and anyway, i stopped following him back in about April. (I joined Twitter in mid March 09.)

We don’t actually have anything in common, aside from following @TheBloggess on Twitter. He’s a technological evangelist, I’m the Antichrist. Which probably means we do have things in common, but we haven’t figured that out yet. I’ve unfollowed people on Twitter only to discover months later that i really enjoy their tweets, and i refollow.

Interesting fact about Twitter that i learned from his blog – even with 1,000 people, you start losing tweets – that is, they don’t show up. I’ve noticed this at busy times (when the USA is online) with only 400 i’m following, and 500 followers.

Now, i don’t refollow automatically, (since the first time someone spammed me), and i block anyone who’s actually a spammer so they can’t follow me.

The ‘lost tweets’ do seem to show up later for me, but i don’t get that many @ replies in my tweetstream (check  out how many people are tweeting strange things @ someone famous – it’s scary) and most of my stream aren’t directed @ me. Still interesting that the more people, the less you’re able to actually communicate with them on Twitter.

Meanwhile, I’m thinking wow, he only just realised that being spammed on Twitter sucks. I was writing blogs on that months ago. We’re talking about a man who joined back in… ooh, was it 20 November 2006?

Evidently, when he was following 102,000 people or so, (he autofollowed everyone back), he kept getting spammed. As we’d say in Australia, “Dur, Fred.” (Means “I thought that was obvious.”)

He also got a lot of pure advertising on his main Twitter screen, (say it aint so! who knew?!) and since he unfollowed everyone, (then followed back who he actually wanted to follow – gosh, there’s a radical concept), he’s lost the advertising! And no-one is spamming his DM box!

Where’s the facepalm icon? Do you know anyone who facepalms in real life? I don’t. I am not sure I know how. WTF is a facepalm anyway? Excuse me while i consult the oracles. Oh, wait, i DO know what a facepalm is, we didn’t call it that before. (In real life, Mr Whatsit just facepalmed about something unrelated. Talk about life imitating art!)

Stop facepalming me!

Mind you, while you’re busy judging me for that blonde moment – there are 190 people commenting on this dude’s blog (though some also said their regional equivalent of  “Dur, Fred”).

Usually, not even 1 in 10 visitors comment, so the number of people reading him in a week is way more than my Beloved Visitors in total since March. *shines the Beloved Visitors and puts out the tea things* Yes, preciouses, you shall have crumpets with marmalade.

If i have ONE comment, i chuck a party! I get excited just knowing someone drops in EVERY day. Yes, you’re here looking for porn, but i don’t judge you! Actually, two people came here looking for “Malcolm Turnbull humour”and one for “bloody hello kitty” and there have been – as i predicted in previous posts – some lost ornithologists.

Porn visitors are still my main accidental market. *sighs* It’s the net, i really shouldn’t expect much more. Note the desperate, misspelled “real sex doll” hunters are out in force, but i do well from mentioning native animals – this is what Search Engine Optimisation experts don’t tell you – budgies are good for hits.

Feel i should add, i didn’t deliberately do this, it’s like the eunuchs, i was just expressing myself, said ‘penectomy’, and i’m suddenly picking up the nullification and castration market.

However, Beloved Visitor numbers are pleasing Her Majesty, as for no reason we can discern (you don’t always laugh at the bits we find hysterical), people are visiting – between 5-30 a day. We do better when we procrastinate on the book and play on Twitter, or if we can spare time to do blog posts and remember to promote them.

Mind you, many of Robert Scoble’s Beloved Visitors (or the Bloggess’s) who do comment are trying to promote their own websites, and it’s interesting watching all the schmoozing going on. But i’m left thinking, well, good thing this Scoble bloke can run a website, or he’d be screwed, cos in the real world, he’s a bigger blonde than i am. (If that hair’s natural, i think he is, literally.)

Businessweek.com pic of Robert Scoble (copyright Thomas Hawk)

Businessweek.com pic of Robert Scoble (copyright Thomas Hawk)

Mr Scoble is an authority – evidently, *consults oracles again, using “robert scoble, authority, social media”* AND he was someone famous before last year. I had forgotten that last year even existed!

Now, ‘Technical Evangelist’ sounds like something made up, right? But no, they paid him, and all because he invented computers, the web, technical evangelism, worked for  Microsoft and dared to criticise them, and was head wrangler on the 9-MSN website.

But he didn’t know spam was boring shite something you’re better off without? Well, there you go. Explains a lot about the 9-MSN website, and about Microsoft.

I’ve blogged before about most people who are held up as authorities, or say they understand social media – don’t mean to include the Scobelizer in that, btw, he deserves credit for shanking Microsoft from within, for learning about his field (Twitter really is a better experience if you manage your followers), and for being like normal people, in putting off cleaning out his Twitter Followers.

I  respect procrastination, that’s a sign you’re not Tony Robbins , or someone suckered by the ‘everyone, get rich!’ bollocks of the multi-level marketers, with the sub-text of ‘if you’re not rich, it’s your fault’. (Subtext from me: do not punch the fucking air again, or i will kill you)

You may even deserve kudos for just getting out of bed in the morning. (The Scobelizer procrastinated so long, he had to get someone to write a program to delete that many. *suitably awed*)

Hopefully, he’s learned size isn’t everything. Size isn’t even that important – as any woman will tell you, it’s how you use what you’re blessed with that matters.

Men nearly always translate this into keeping their Followers up for hours.

Women usually mean oral sex, kissing, and good touching.
Nothing to do with Twitter at all.

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

Feel i should mention, the above is mostly complete bullshit,
and meant as humour. Or even humor.

Follow Robert (Scobelizer) Scoble on Twitter
Follow @TheBloggess on Twitter
Follow @WilliamShatner on Twitter

Follow the war against William Shatner by TheBloggess’s followers,
(even crazier than she is, and yes, i’m proud to be one),
after he blocked her on Twitter, on her blog link at the very top of the page
or at the Twitter trend #UnblockTheBloggess

His side of it? He has a side? I think he just thought she was nuts.

[note: eventually, he unblocked her and the army could go home, or at least stop tweeting]

********************
Follow me on Twitter @stinginthetail

The rules are simple.
Laugh at my jokes, or die.

I’m actually very nice, seriously – my tweets are unlocked, you’ll see most of them are happy inoffensive poems about dwarves and fairies having race wars.

But don’t mention marketing opportunities or ways to whiten my Followers’ teeth, because i will block you before you can say “Make $$$ – ask me how!”

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com


It’s Fucktard Time at The OK Corral

Have been watching Mr Whatsit get flamed – for what massive crime? (i hear you ask, in a neat literary device thingie.) Was it for abusing someone? No, for daring to mention his dislike of plagiarism, a subject i’ve covered before, (after one of my posts was copied word for word and put up on another blog site as all someone else’s work).

Despite saying he’s against plagiarism, he’s been accused so far of being in favour of censorship, against free speech, and – my personal favourite – of being a communistic Nazi. Wow, i thought, they must be saying that because he’s my consort.

I shouted, “Tell them you’re an anarchist monarchist!” and threw him an assault rifle. We don’t take prisoners in the Kingdom of Darkness. Who wants pet fucktards? You only have to muck out their stables. And feed them pony nuts. Wait, that’s Shetlands.

Fucktards aren’t half as much fun.

most blogs, you get gratuitious pictures of breasts (click image to visit the happy place of worldofhorses)

most blogs, you get gratuitous pictures of breasts - this is a gratuitous Shetland pony. I like ponies. It's my blog. I can have ponies. Do not get between me and my pony. My pony will take you down. Srsly.

I would much rather have a Shetland than a fucktard, and i used to help look after two of the little bastards. Shetlands, that is, not fucktards. I’ve been pony-crazed since rather young, so much so that my parents hired a pony for my sixth birthday.

I thought he was for a present, not for the day. Life pretty much went downhill from there, and this kind of pony-related trauma is why i need to invade Queensland. Ha, thought i’d forgotten?

No way, am merely biding my time, (slightly delayed due to elements temporarily beyond my control, like ‘the world’) then zip, the Queen of Darkness will be across the northern border quicker than you can say, “Would you like pineapple with that?” If not pineapple, it’s banana.

And they don’t ask, it’s just there – ubiquitous pineapple and banana. I was amazed when I moved to Queensland, and grapefruit disappeared from “breakfast juice” to be replaced with pineapple and banana. Strange people, Queenslanders, but for all that, i like them. Generally, they’re very down to earth.

Trapped here in New South Wales, I hesitate to criticise, in case the locals burn me at the stake. Am always wondering if i should play dumb at the supermarket in case someone detects a brain in a woman – or realises i don’t have a badly ageing tattoo somewhere and that i actually read for pleasure – and starts screaming, “She’s a witch, she’s a witch! Burn her!”

Wait, just saying that is pretty critical, right? I will spread the load – it actually reminds me heaps of Western Australia, my home state.

But wait…. before i lose it completely about my beloved homeland, someone deciding anti-plagiarism is a sign of censorship made me realise what’s going on. See, they’re not even in Australia! Yep, we’re in the middle of worldwide fucktard season. Ah, of course, that explains everything.

The bad news? It’s been going on since the dawn of time. For some reason, they won’t let me shoot fucktards, so i have to be content with laughing at them.

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com