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Maybe Sum Ting went Wong?

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1 Wedding, 4 Roos, And A Illegal Firearm

I am a bloke who doesn’t like to be late to important things. My step sister Wendy was getting remarried again last week to one’s of Waynes mates Barry in the lovely Victorian town of Seymour. Barry has a joint up there that was set up for him by corrective services in some kind of relocation kind of deal where he payes very little rent. He thinks its great because a lot of his mates get relocated their too. Wendy was having her wedding at the Best western motel followed by a reception at Barry’s favourite pub which also has the strippers on afterwards.

I decided to take the XE up the Hume (with a new gear box in it from Pick a part) and also brought my SLR rifle to go roo shooting with Wayne near Seymour The thing about the whole thing was that I was running late and I had to be there at one but didn’t leave till 11.30 because I had a bad hangover from a night at the dishlickers the night before. I got a root too and didn’t use a dinger but I got my black wings a few years ago in Seymour so it was nothing new to me. This bird was on Abstudy though and I had to buy her a few bourbons.

So I threw my swag, rifle and a slab of cans in the XE and started driving up the Hume (which used to be called Sydney road because you can follow it all the way to Sydney). I stopped at the servo before the Pucka turn off to fill the XE up and I was pretty pissed off about missing Wendy’s wedding again and I wasn’t really paying attention and filled up the XE too much and some petrol got all over my best flanny on the sleeve. I went in and paid and drove up the Hume again (going over the speed limit by about 40 ks) with The Crawl playing loud ‘When the boys light up…When the boys light up’. I lit a smoke and was smoking it when the fucken smoke made my petrol soaked arm of my flanny catch fire when I threw the butt out the window except the wind was blowing and it came back in. Now I was fucken panicing and waving my arm out the window as it was burning like fuck to try and put the fire out. Then some coppers started flashing their lights behind me and I could hear the siren over The Crawl so I had to pull over . (Gotta get some new Dolby Speakers.)

The coppers came over and I had me flanny off and was swearing like fucken tooth and nails at my burnt arm. The coppers asked if I was ok and I said look I know I was speeding but I was on fire and late for Wendy’s wedding again.

The coppers looked at the XE and then said we aren’t going to get you for speeding (they asked for my licsense.) But they were going to charge me for having an illegal fire arm.

I yelled at the copper and said the fucken petrol overfilled and got on my flanny sleeve and the smoke set it on fire and that’s why I was waving it out the window.

But the other coppers had opened the back of my station wagon and under the swag he found me SLR rifle and said I was going to be charged with having an illegal firearm.

I thought country coppers were good blokes but these one’s were from the city I reckon. So I was late again to Wendy’s wedding and have to go to court at Seymour. I was pissed off. Wayne had his SLR and 303 so we shot a few roos with them instead which was good as they are in plauge proportions there. Wayne pretended to root one. He’s a dickhead.

Thank god that I had the Crawl.

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Two beds are better than one

One man’s trash is another man’ pleasure. While walking back from my local cash converters where I paid out the remainder of my loan (I hocked a Peter brock wall clock) I came across this little gem.

A genuine bed head with a genuine cassette deck in it.

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Which in these turbulent economic times is an Amazing find. Here’s a closer look at the cassette deck part which as a genuine am fm radio and a genuine LED clock that displays both AM and the PM time. The brand is ‘Moderntronic’ which I’m sure is good.

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So yeah I’m pretty stoked.

Trevor

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Bombers Legend series by Trevor #4

Tap here to begin writing.

One of the functions of the WordPress feature is to do a quick post. And this is it.

I would like to welcome “Rotten” Ronnie Andrews to my bombers legend series. Since everyone knows everything about Ronnie here is one fact you won’t know and one you will

1. During the infamous Petrol shortage of 1981 Ronnie Andrew’s young son thought he’d do his dad a favour and use a garden house to fill up Ronnie’s HOlden Belmont with water. His son didn’t realise that petrol and water were different therefore completely fucken up Ronnie’s car.

2. Like Dermie, Ronnie played his twighlight games for the enemy collingwood. And kicked 3 out of the 5 of Collingwoods goals during their 133 point loss in the 1984 Preliminary final to the mighty dons.

“would the bus drivers please return to their busses” echoed around Windy hill as Collingwood fans left the ground early during that famous loss”

Still he is a bloody bombers legend!

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How can we win?

Being a conciencious homophobe makes we wonder how we will win the battle against alternative lifestyles when people argue like this.

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Stephen Hawking

To expand the thinking of my mind I have decided to watch a show on the ABC channel from a bloke called Steve Hawking about the universe.

To his credit he comes up with some fucken good ideas about not contacting the aliens and about the possibilities of travelling in time.

His paradox excuse for not going back in time is yet to be be proven. But he does have a lot of time on his hands (if they worked).

This is how I see it. The bloke is stuck in a wheelchair and has the time to think about his brief history.

The common Howard battler like me has to occupy my time with thoughts like getting up in the morning, deciding what flanny to wear, if I can jump start my XE ford or get the bus or should i update my 50 inch plasma to a 52 inch 3D plasma with four sets of goggles. Steve doesn’t have to worry about this so he has time to write a book about the Universe.

So what I’m saying is that what the bloody else are you going to do if you can’t move or speak?

We have to live and go to the supermarket steve when you just sit there doing not much. So you’re not special.

I’m sure if I was stuck in a chair not playing nintendo 64 or watching the fucken footy I could also think think about going light speed and advanced quantum algorithims and shit like that.

Trevor.

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Air (not the French band)

Topical debating is my forte and I’ve been resting on my laurels while watching a topical debate blossom on the multi-media via info-tech.

It’s time to fertilise this debates or like Morticia Adams, clip the Rose off the stem depending on what side if the glass half full/half empty debate you sit.

The issue is Julia Gillard’s Carbon Taxing. This is a tax on air that labor hopes will get them over the line at the next election. And the labor boffins like quiz king Barry (forgot his last name but his friend is Philip adams) hope to lead them into at least ten years of glory.

I am reminded of another lot who made people pay for air (however unlike labor) have turned it into one of the biggest success stories since Big M.

In the mid eighties a foot company called Nike were struggling so they had a brilliant idea to put air in the soles of their shoes. It saved on the cost of rubber and gave them a marketing advantage over their rivals the Dunlop K26 running shoe.

The rest is history. Now if I was in charge of labor I would have got Michael Jordan to do the air tax ads instead of Cate Blanchette. It’s a no brainer.

Kevin blew wind up her arse but maybe he should have put it in her shoe because labours sail needs some wind.. or some Nike Airs because they are headed to a long walk off a short plank.

(if the Editors of the Australian want to use this as their Editorial in the morning I’ll be at the Moonee valley dishlickers and won’t be contactable)

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