Procrastination Pt II - Lizard People and A Parrot

This worked last time, so I’ll give it another crack. What’s weird this time is I’m procrastinating about my procrastinating. I finished my beer, just so I had to go and get another one before writing this sentence, for example.

Why some organisations restrict applications to character limits rather than words is beyond me. Trump wouldn’t have a problem with this application 500 characters would give him heaps of space to use ‘the best words’ that he ‘knows’. I pay a fair bit of attention to world events and Old Donald’s been getting a bit of play lately. I’m still waiting on those promised ‘best words’. He said it himself on the campaign trail and while I couldn’t have voted for him if I wanted to, I was intrigued.

THE BEST WORDS! I was excited to say the least. WORDS are valuable to a writer and The Candidate was promising that he had the prime cuts of the literary world. Why no one else seemed as excited about this as I was, confused me. Sure, I didn’t want him to win, but when he did…

THE WORDS! I was salivating at the prospect. When was he going to release them? Would they be Public Domain, or would he Trademark them so that only the most successful of writers could afford to use them? These are important questions and I am waiting for them to be answered. Roll smoke, change music. No answers still. The talk is about the impending Mid-Term Elections and no WORDS. Excluding names of countries and people he stumbles over the most impressive WORD you ever hear him utter is ‘collusion’ and he looks bloody pleased with himself that he learnt that one. But parrots can learn to speak without understanding the WORDS.

Not that I’m suggesting The President of The United States is a parrot, he’s clearly one of The Lizard People. Craig Kelly though… What sort of a twit advocates becoming mates with Russia and ‘moving on’ (may not be a direct quote, no internet yet can’t find the transcript) in the same bloody week as the anniversary of those pricks shooting down a passenger jet with 30-odd Australians on it? There’s a bloody parrot for you. As soon as Trump came out a bit tender from two hours in Putin’s sound proof sodomy cave for debriefing and mis-read – that’s right, watch the fucking footage, he was reading that response from notes, it wasn’t off the cuff – ‘wouldn’t’ as ‘would’, Craig Kelly was out there telling victims families to get over it.

Fuck that for a joke. I’m not a victims’ advocate and I don’t know anyone who was affected by the incident, but as a fucking human you could have timed that one better. Or even better just don’t say it. Especially when The Government you are a part of know it was Russia that was bloody responsible and have made accusations and produced evidence to that effect.

If Ivan had given up a few sacrificial Military Officers to The Hague, Parrot Kelly might have been able to get away with it. I’m not really surprised though. Kelly appeals to that ignorant base that Trump relies on and apparently Trumps approval rating has barely shifted after he told NATO and The EU that he considered them foes followed by lecturing Theresa May on how to run her country and finally taking the word of a fucking KGB agent over his own Intelligence Agencies. They say that Intelligence Agents never retire, and while The KGB might have changed its name Putin runs the bloody country. FSB, GRU, who gives a shit what acronym they use, that fucker knows who did everything regarding MH17 and organising the election disruptions.

Trump came out and informed the world that he either can’t read, or ‘would’ and ‘wouldn’t’ are clearly nowhere near ‘THE BEST WORDS’ so he hadn’t bothered to learn how to say them up until this point. Or maybe no one told him what an apostrophe does, so he just stopped when the letters didn’t make sense anymore. Who knows how The Lizard People think? Parrots are easier.

Kelly on hearing the news, scrambled to offer an ‘unreserved apology’ to victims’ families. Until Trump told reporters that he doesn’t think Russia is continuing to interfere in The American Political Process. Craig The Parrot was quickly out there modifying his apology to ‘any offence caused’ and explaining that he believes Russia did shoot down the plane, but they won’t do it again and can we just be nicer to them because they refuse to tell us who ordered the strike.

The Major Parties wonder why people are disillusioned with mainstream politics when people like Craig Kelly have a say in decision making in Australia. There is plenty of stupidity on both sides of The Chamber and Politicians backtrack and reverse their positions all the time, but Kelly just made a Trumpoyal mess of the whole thing. I’m curious to see if he cops any backlash at the next election. Whoever plans on running against him might be served well to remember this little fuck up. But he won’t have to worry about that until 2019 as Turnbull has promised us (Which is as useful as tits on a bull, but eh, he promised so much when he got rid of Abbott).

Talk about a disappointing Politician. Turnbull is the lamest Prime Minister I can think of. Surging to power with talk of a forward-thinking approach to energy, support for same sex marriage and former figurehead of The Australian Republican Movement but also the Financial nuance to get The Budget sorted out. Even people in the Labor Party were excited at the prospect of a centrist Prime Minister they might be able to deal with. While not admitting it publicly, The Greens were probably pretty chuffed when he got the nod.

Then came the shackles. He’d made too many deals with too many people for their support and had to abandon most of his personal views to placate his party and The Nationals. Now he presents as the nonce he always has been. No one ever suggests that he took the job for the money. It isn’t required, simple perception would demonstrate to anyone paying attention that he’s only interested in prancing around and over enunciating the letter ‘U’ in his fancy WORDS. To give the man some credit, he at least knows a few WORDS beyond ‘Great’ and ‘Very’ and ‘Bad’.

This may have been what caused the schism in that now infamous phone call after The Donald pipped Hillary. Old Trumbull used big WORDS and Trumpballs didn’t have anyone nearby to explain them to him. Thinking that Malcolm was being condescending (con-di-send-ing. Good work puppy, here’s a treat) Donald had a tantie but after having it explained to him that The Aussie PM is a supercilious prick, he recognised a fellow Lizard People. Becoming Super Best Friends, Trump let us send our Steel and Aluminium to his country without tariffs because Turnbull gave the secret hiss and Trudeau couldn’t. Theresa May tried, but Trump considers her Skink People and they are food for Lizard People so ignored her. Macron and Merkle gave it a crack but they speak a different tongue and Trump can’t quite understand Western European Lizard People Dialects. He learnt his Eastern European Lizard Tongues from Melania which is why he and Vlads get on so well.

I don't know whether or not I have psychic ability but the rest of The Pub have just started discussing the facts and rumours regarding Lizard People. I need to finish this now.

And there we are. A decent six hours of piss farting around and we haven’t gotten anywhere beyond what we already knew. Trump is an incompetent idiot that bankrupts his businesses and is probably going to do the same to The US economy while abandoning all of Americas allies that refuse to play by the rules that he will change whenever it suits him. Rumours abound about his perverted practices whenever he is in the same room as anyone born behind the Iron Curtain but they are starting to call him ‘Teflon Don’. For some reason this useless, racist, ignorant misogynist is still riding around 40% approval rating. It will be interesting to see what happens when his base start losing their jobs because they can’t get any cheap materials from China.

Turnbull appreciates this because we sell most of our minerals to China and fuck all to The States. He knows that America will start to suffer a shortfall in Iron Ore, Coal and Steel if China can’t dump their excess in North America and we might be able to take advantage of the situation. If The Yanks have to pay more for the product because China won’t export to them we might win out. He still yammers on about how free-trade is beneficial to the world, but you can see his cold-blooded heart is excited by the prospect. The only people that benefit from trade wars are Lizard People. The Yanks have had The Bush Lizard People and The Ray-Gun Lizard People. Don’t start me on LBJ, Nixon or Ford.

There are rumours Keating’s heritage was an open secret in Canberra. An elder of The Goanna Clan he was outed on more than one occasion until Howard of The Newts took his spot. I’m unsure as to what Lizard Clan Turnbull belongs to but I’m thinking Gecko – loitering around, slightly out of reach for the big beasts like Christensen, Abbott and Joyce but being forced to make concessions so he can come back to the ground to drink some water. While he can’t get his back bench and coalition partners in line with his policies he’s not going to win the cup. If he can manage to get some consensus, he might pull off a victory at the next election otherwise we’ll be stuck with Shorten…

Procrastination Done.

The Dogs of Origin and How an old GOAT can go out with glory.

Most years, The Stool is moved, and The Dogs take prime position. Granted, it’s hard to see the screen from The Dog end of the counter, but no one wants a Dog every minute of The Game.

The last time I wasn’t in charge of The Dogs at The Pub for Origin was the last time The Blues bothered to turn up with a team that could compete.

A free ticket, fifty bones on loan and a Queensland victory meant I abandoned my post to watch The Maroons get one back that time.

We understand the concept of playing for pride north of The Tweed and didn’t forget it last night.

I told the boys on the other side of the bar well before kick off that Lang Park, Billy Slaters farewell and the fact we had fuck all else to play for would result in The Maroons taking this match. They laughed in the manner that only those who could barely win a match in eighteen years can laugh.

The Dog crowd was diminished as a result of the well documented ILIBTIASOR (I Live In Brisbane, Therefore I Am Scared Of Rain) syndrome.

The fact NSW had won the series already probably didn’t help, but it was a poor turnout from The Massive. Dogs were left abandoned and it was left to The Mexicans behind the bar to provide the cheers whenever The Blues did something useful.

They didn’t factor in young William and the power he would bring with captaincy. The cheeky little fucker was everywhere.

A streak of Maroon that showed the New South Welsh debutantes what Origin is really about. Lacking Smith, Cronk, Thurston and Inglis, Queensland was tipped to fall well short this series, and they did.

With true style.

In that moment when you need to send a Legend off in style, you lift.

That’s the difference.

We knew we’d lost the series but there was no way in Fuck that The Blues would come into our house, push us around and prevent us from sending off The Player of The Series and probably the best fullback we’ve seen so far without a win.

But this whole diatribe is supposed to be about The Dogs.

Wild Boars may have been freed from a cave in Thailand, but The Dogs are the key.

Lack of consumption resulted in charity and as a result, Boundary Street was fed.

Those poor little buggers in Chiang Rai would more than likely knifed each other for ‘The Best Free Dog in West End’.

It’s a good thing they weren’t around or have any knowledge of Rugby League.

I do wonder whether or not they have visual access to The World Cup. It would be paramount to torture if they don’t, but the poor little fuckers didn’t even have light for a week.

Back to the point - West End wussed out on Origin but The Dogs didn’t.

Wild Boars be processed and eaten in celebration of Billy ‘The GOAT’ Slater.

It was clear from the outset, that the over proportionate number of NSWelsh would be against us from the yelling at screen perspective.

It was The Dogs that proved decisive.

Gorged on lips and arseholes, The Blues support faltered.

Overindulging on Swine was their undoing.

A strong supporter is a hungry supporter.

The game was a guaranteed result but the classic fashion in which The Maroons pulled it off was an appropriate send off for that young little fucker (we’re the same age) to chip kick a ball and enter Origin History.

True Legend of League.

Long Live The Dogs of Rumpus.

Procrastination Pt 1

Spent all day procrastinating.
I have multiple submissions due but they all ask questions along the lines of “What do you want to achieve from this opportunity?”

Fucking money. That’s why you offer cash incentives. Sure, the experience provided by some of the grants/awards/scholarships would be a bonus but don’t ask me to justify why I’m applying when you’re volunteering to pay me for the work I already do.

They’d be better served asking me why I deserve the opportunity. The achievement bit is easy – published and paid. Everyone that applies for these sorts of things have the same objectives.

To top it off they give you 300 words to do it in. I’m at 117 and I should be done.
I won’t be submitting this rant as any part of my application, but I have advised them of this web address, so they might end up reading it anyway.

I awoke at 2am, fully dressed and the lights on.

Smoking a joint and finishing the beer left on the side table before passing out assist in resuming slumber. Single degree temperatures overnight have allowed the beer to remain palatable. Roadside beers in South-East Asia have allowed me to consume luke warm lager without much difficulty.

It was four hours later when I stirred again. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m getting better at this sleeping game, it doesn’t prevent me from spending the next hour in bed with the cat walking all over me until ABC Weekend Breakfast starts.

I went through the motions as I usually do, wishing it was Sunday so I could have a break from the repetitive news cycle with Insiders and Offsiders, ignore The World This Week and hope Compass might offer up something interesting before throwing on a playlist (as I’ve discussed before) in time for Songs of Praise.

But today is Saturday and upon rising for the second time, I become aware that Belgium will beat France in the Soccer Football World Cup Semi Final. I don’t really care but I’m calling a Belgium-Croatia Final. Eat that with your Weet-Bix and tell me about it later.

The thing that really threw me, however was that the Indigenous Round of Super Netball got plugged (and rightly so). But it was an English woman from The GWS Giants that fronted up for the interview. I had a cursory attempt to find her name but decided it was a moot point as no one bothered to learn the names of the ancestors of Krystal Dallinger who designed the dress the players will wear and figuring out the identity of someone from the country that has, over time, caused more hurt to ours than any other would be irrelevant.

A simple Google search throws up numerous results for Indigenous Netball players but there is only one player in Super Netball who identifies as First Nations. Jemma Mi Mi could have done a cross from Queensland instead of The ABC dragging a Pom into the Sydney studios to have a chat about how significant the round would be in terms of ‘recognising Women in Sport’ but mentioning nothing about reconciliation, redress, treaty or anything else that (as far as I’m aware) Indigenous people give a shit about. Because she couldn’t. To her credit she said she hadn’t had much experience in her life with people of different races. Which again raises the question as to why The ABC and Netball Australia thought this was a good idea.

I’m not Indigenous as far as anyone has been able to determine and to bastardise the best quote ever uttered by Muhammad Ali – ‘no one ever called me “Nigger”’. But I was morally offended that the promotion offered by the national broadcaster prior to the inaugural Indigenous Round couldn’t even find an Australian of European descent but didn’t even bother to get themselves the only Indigenous player in the competition to rock up at the Maroochydore Studios for a live cross.

Don’t take this as a black armband view of Australian history, take it as a failure of marketing. I cannot think of a worse ambassador for The Indigenous Round than a citizen of the nation that subjugated the people who are supposed to be acknowledged by the gesture of a week of matches dedicated to them. Abbott might’ve worked but he was probably otherwise engaged. Every other sporting code manages to get themselves some Indigenous Ambassadors. You only need to look at Adam Goodes or the Riolis’ in Aussie Rules as well as Thurston and Thaiday over recent years in League to name barely a few of the greatest players the sports have produced. I can list Inglis, Tallis, Daley, and a raft of others, but we’ll run out of space. The same is probably more prevalent in Aussie Rules but I don’t watch it too often. Even Union can roll out the Ellas’ every time they need to demonstrate diversity, throw Kurtley Beale into the mix, a bit of Andrew Walker and some Jim Williams for a bit of heft and you’ve almost got yourself a decent sevens team.

Fuck, even Cricket is doing a better job than netball. We just sent a pair of teams to The Old Dart to replicate the fine showing that our first ever touring sports team managed to deliver to our colonial overlords – 14 wins, 14 losses, 19 draws. Not bad for a bunch of “conquered natives of a convict colony” (According to The Daily Telegraph).

Harry Williams represented the country in our first Soccer Football World Cup and I shouldn’t need to mention the surnames of Rose and Mundine when it comes to pugilism.

All I’m getting at here at that both Aunty and Netball Australia could’ve done a better job in advertising the concept.

I am well aware that The ABC can’t “advertise” but they dwell in murky waters when it comes to what they will and won’t report on. At least the commercial networks are shameless in their bias and bigotry. Poor Aunty just seems to get caught up in the middle.

But this is not supposed to be a story about Australian sporting teams. It’s supposed to be about procrastination and I have clearly achieved my purpose for the day. Now I just have to buy some weed.

Go Home.

Get Stoned.

Work.

Sleep.

Wake up in time for Insiders.