Amazons in the aisles

 I was going to call this post "Feral Female Terrorists In Our Shopping Centres" but I didn't because, if I had, I would have red flagged all the security services and agencies, nationally and internationally, who monitor the internet looking for any references to terror and those who inflict it. To those  people I say "Well done and keep it up. We rely on you".  I guess that red flagged everything anyway. Sorry guys.

I was, in fact, referring to the aggressive pushers of prams and shopping trolleys who absolutely know that it is their God given right to own whichever aisle they're pushing said pram or trolley at any given time. These Amazons are easily recognised by their resolute glare and stony faces as they unwaveringly aim their trolleys up and down the aisles while spending the family budget on necessities such as biscuits, soft drinks, chips and anything carrying a "Special" price tag, regardless of whether they really need it or not. Woe betide any luckless male that dares stand between them and a bargain. In fact, it is so dangerous that I think supermarkets and department stores should be compelled to carry liability insurance to cover injuries caused by unyielding Amazons.

I also need to warn people not to comment directly to the Amazons about their lack of manners. A quiet "rude bitch" will result in a screaming tirade that will not only be heard by every other shopper in a kilometre radius, it could also cause pacemakers to malfunction, heart attacks in the elderly, possible broken glass damage and a fast response from the store security, who will automatically take the Amazon's side and evict you from the store. This because the store security will not risk their own safety for yours. Smart people!

The answer to this potentially dangerous situation is to smile and give way to the Amazon. Apologise when she rams you with her trolley and remark on how cute her child is. Warning! Don't do the last one if you are dressed as a priest! Good luck.

The Pros and Cons Of Being Ancient. パート2

In my last post, I pontificated about the Cons of being ancient. Now It's time for the Pros.
Strange as it may seem, there are good sides to getting old. All I have to do here is to try to remember what the hell they are. To that end, I have just poured a large glass of single malt scotch to assist me in my ruminations. It always seems to work. Thank God for spell check.

The Pros:
Obviously, the first one is the glee of waking up in the morning with a fairly certain notion that I actually made it through the night. Sometimes there is a negative side to that when I check the world news over my first cup of coffee for the day (Enjoying good coffee is another pro.) and read what a crap state the world is in. I blame this on the lazy Millennials and inconsequential Greens for polluting the air we breathe by their existence. I'm old. I don't have use logic or explain my opinions. See? More pros.

Another pro is using the excuse of having a fading memory to avoid doing onerous tasks. You have to love, "Was I supposed to do that? Sorry, I must have forgotten. Old age, you know."

Playing the "Grumpy Old Man" game is a hoot. It's an amazing tool we oldies can use to terrorise young people, make women pushing trolleys or prams in supermarkets move aside, get a seat on public transport, get served quickly almost anywhere and being able to vent our opinion on almost anything without getting beaten up. Sadly, it doesn't work on my wife. I'm still trying to perfect that.

Making other people embarrassed is another goody. Wearing old or mismatched clothes, odd socks, leaving my fly open with my shirt hanging out of it, mumbling to myself in public, just staring at people and loudly farting in public are just a few. All good fun.

So, as you can see, getting old isn't all bad. There are lots of other pros to being ancient but, as I've just emptied my glass of scotch and need to pour another, I probably won't remember to come back and write more drivel.

I'll leave you with a toast, taught to me by my long departed Scottish grandfather. "Here's to it. If ye get to it and don't do it, may ye never get to it to do it again." You figure it out!

The Pros And Cons Of Being Ancient. Part 1.

Being a wise old fart, I see the glass as being both half full and half empty. Half empty tends to annoy me, along with screaming, unruly children, harping women, smelly old people, rude people in general, political correctness, governments, "know it all" young shits, cheap red wine and any whiskey other than single malt, just to name a few. So, while on the negatives, let's start with the cons of being old. At least that way, I'll end up on a positive note, assuming I don't kark it mid sentence.

The Cons:
They all start upon waking up in the morning. Invariably, I will have slept in an awkward, unnatural position, reminiscent of Quasimodo, which results in several degrees of agony, as I attempt to roll out of bed without falling on my face. As I hobble to the toilet on arthritic feet that I haven't seen for several decades, I ponder if I'll be able to accurately pee into the toilet, and not miss. This often poses a problem, as I haven't seen that part of my anatomy for several decades, either. Although my wife tells me it still exists.
Other difficulties include maintaining my balance while getting dressed, not spilling breakfast on my clean shirt, trying to remember whether I've already taken my tablets and failing to check my zipper before leaving the house.

Driving to work is always interesting. Younger drivers seem to think that older drivers should automatically get out of their way, regardless of the road rules. I'm really not a doddering old fool on the road. I like to think that I'm just being careful. When other drivers sound their horns at me and scream abuse. I smile and wave at them, Although, sometimes they don't seem to realise that the reason my middle finger sticks up is due to arthritis.

I work, part time, in a retail environment. That, in itself, is not a big deal, unless I stumble and accidentally push a snotty little kid out of a trolley. I swear that whenever that happens, it IS purely accidental. The major problem is, because I'm old, the customers think I'm supposed to know where everything is located, its price and whether it is a good product or not. Don't these stupid people realise that I have trouble remembering where the hell I am, let alone the answers to their useless, inane bloody questions?

When I get home in the evening, the problems continue. My wife asks how my day was. How the hell am I supposed to remember? She then asks me what I'd like for dinner. Surely, by now, she'd realise it all tastes like soggy cardboard, so why ask the question? Finally, going to bed is pretty much the same as getting up, just in reverse, but it lacks the excitement of waking up, knowing I made through the night.

Oh, I realise that that you think that I forgot the pros of being old. I didn't forget. I just can't be bothered typing any more. Maybe next post.

Kim Jong-un Master Puppeteer

Here we go again! Fatguts Kim has played the world again.

Faced with North Korea being turned into the world's largest radioactive parking lot by the USA, Kim has gone a a charm offensive. That alone is enough to want to make any rational person upchuck into their breakfast cereal.

First of all, he hijacked the Winter Olympics with a team of uncompetitive athletes(?), backed up by an equally unattractive cheer squad, in an attempt to show solidarity with South Korea. That alone is another reason to upchuck.

Then, he hints at the remote chance of a dialogue with Trump. Excuse me, while I recover from upchucking into my avocados and poached eggs on toast.  What bloody mess!

Now, we learn that he has had a "positive" discussion with China, where he declares that he is OK with disarming his nukes, if certain peaceful initiatives can be reached with the USA. All this, in order to reunite Korea. Are you shitting me?

Fatguts and his family have played these games before. And, at no time, have they ever honoured any agreements made! All he is doing is buying time to build his nuclear arsenal to a point where he can dominate South Korea and Japan, while holding the USA to ransom in order to protect their allies from devastation.

My opinion. Don't believe a word that parasite utters and build that parking lot!

A Trifecta of Twats... The Joyce,Turnbull and Shorten Hypocrisy

Hooray! After a very boring hiatus in Australian politics, we finally have some action. All this concerning Prime Mangler Turnbull, Deputy Prime Idiot Joyce and Leader of the Losers Shorten.

A quick rundown.

Joyce separates from his wife, falls in lust and becomes a prospective father, again. This is simply horrifying! Never before has a man done this! Thinking about this unthinkable action could cause mass affairs, divorces, tattoos and self harm mutilations throughout Australia's mindless, puritanical population.

Turnbull supports Joyce, then renounces Joyce and turns his back on the whole thing, trying not to get anyone offside, because he really does love being Prime Mangler. After all, it is his destiny, isn't it? Just ask him!

Shorten, with nothing better to do, picks up the cudgel and batters Joyce with it in a fit of righteous indignation, obviously never having had a lascivious thought in his life! Ask his wife.

As a  septuagenarian, wise beyond my years, here is my advice to the three of them.

Mr Joyce, don't let the bastards grind you down. Your private life is just that. Private! Is has absolutely nothing to do with anyone except you and your families, new and previous. I'm sure that you will do your best for all concerned. Good luck.

Prime Mangler Turnbull. Mind your own f**king business and get on with fixing the problems facing this country. You have achieved your dream, now show that you are worthy of the position and stay out of other people's private lives.

Now for Shorten. Hey, you lowlife dips**t, stay out of this situation. What kind of filthy animal are you to use a media beat up on another man's private life for your own worthless political gain? Grow a pair and attack the Prime Mangler's policies, offering some well thought out policies (choking on my coffee, here) of your own..

That's it. Rant ended.

The Citizenship Debacle

This post has been reprinted from my blog Pathetic Politicians of Australia.

In recent times we have seen a number of elected politicians being forced to resign due to having dual citizenship, in many cases unknowingly.

I'm not sure where or how this absolutely stupid witch hunt started, but a smug Shorten, who is resisting members of his own party being investigated, smells pretty bad.

Australia is one of the most successful multicultural countries in the world. This multiculturalism is one of things that makes this country such a wonderful place to live. And it is not a new thing. Our country has been home to people from different countries, races and cultures for over two hundred years.

Since Federation, you can safely bet that many of our elected officials, from Local Government through to the Prime Minister, by accident of birth, have been dual citizens. Has this been detrimental to Australia? Not one bit!
If that is the case, why are we having this seemingly well orchestrated witch hunt now? Who is going to benefit from it? Certainly not Australia.

To our current crop of seriously pathetic politicians, I say, " Do the job you were elected to do and nothing else!"

If they proceed with the witch hunt, then at some point, they are going to have check the background of all previously elected politicians and, just possibly, nullify every piece of legislation, submitted by a  dual citizen, that was ever passed into law. Sadly, some of the morons we elected will probably want to follow that path.

Scary, isn't it?

Turning 70

I haven't posted anything on here for a while. This is due to achieving the milestone (or should that be the pending tombstone?) of making it to seventy years old.

The effect on me has been far greater than I ever imagined. Prior to my birthday, I really looked forward to achieving something that three prior generations in my family had never attained.

I woke up on the morning of my 70th to the usual aches and pains, hobbled off to the toilet, as usual, grumbled as I fed my dogs, as usual, grumbled and abused my noisy pet galah as I fed it, as usual and mumbled under my breath as I woke up my wife to get up and get ready for work, as usual. Nothing had changed! Except that I now felt OLD!

I looked into the mirror, prior to shaving and noticed that the few lines on my face now looked old. I'm sure that it took at least five minutes longer to brush my teeth to the same whiteness as the day before. No matter how much I scrubbed myself in the shower, I was sure that I smelled old. All the shampoo, mouthwash, soap and aftershave couldn't disguise the smell of old! Even my regular efforts in the toilet smelled older!

It sounds terrible, doesn't it?

All very negative and old. Until my birthday party! A few of my favourite people attended, plus a few others, all bearing gifts and good wishes. One of the bottles of wine the one of the "others" brought must have cost at least $3. I actually heard the bacteria scream, as I tipped it down the sink. I should have saved half and tipped it down the toilet. They say that it's the thought that counts, not the gift. I'm still not sure what they thought about my waste water system.

All in all, it was a wonderful party and made me appreciate the special people in my life.

What's more, I'm enjoying every day and stretching the boundaries of how much bad behaviour is tolerated by society towards the elderly!