Mo’ Money.

I’m not a greedy person. I’m not materialistic so much that I have created for myself an insurmountable debt for the sake of having the newest and best now. I am lucky in that I own my house and do not need to pay a mortgage or rent. And I own my car and all the little bits and pieces (like furniture and electrical) that make life enjoyable.

But don’t let that fool you. I’m a single mother to two children whose father is allowed to hide on the disability pension even though he has proven capable of earning up to 120 grand a year and therefore pays about $25 a month for the care of his kids. I’m a full-time student with one year to go on my degree and I don’t receive Austudy or the pensioner education supplement. I don’t believe in foisting my kids onto child care centres 12 or more hours a day for the sake of a career. My kids need me and need me more than just as a taxi or cash machine. Even though they are 9 and 11 this year, they still rely on me being there whenever they need me. Even if I had the time in between classes and assessment to work (which I don’t – I work on assessment 20 hours a day for weeks during the semester when necessary), to take that time away from my girls is not an option.

For these reasons, I potter along with my single parent payment and I don’t complain. It’s not much but I am grateful that it exists so even though it only allows us to survive, it allows us to survive together.

And as unbelievable as I am sure most of the population would find it, this single studying mother does not drink, do drugs, gamble, smoke or spend any of the money I’m allotted on partying, going out or anything but the bare essentials for myself. Bare essentials does not include clothes or footwear or hair appointments (which I’ve not had in 5 years) unless I need to wear something other than rags and the ten year old clothing that makes up my closet.

For these reasons, it really narks me the fuck off when I read statements by economists and independents who are under the impression that low and middle income workers and people like me should not be given the one-off bonus cash payments because we’ll just spend it on tobacco and alcohol and gambling. That if the government wants to help us, retail vouchers that regulate our spending would be far more appropriate.

Fuck you. Fuck you and your opinion of my intelligence and integrity and that of the labourers and shit-workers who make this country while you sit in your office and break it. Low wage does not mean low intelligence. It does not mean we need our hands held to help us add or guide our decisions. People in positions of power created the economic mess that is seeing so many in these demographics struggle. You fucked this. You fucked them. You don’t get to look down your noses and condemn our decisions for spending when all we want is to survive, not thrive.

What the opposition has done to struggling families is cruel. Horribly, horribly cruel. They had fresh air and a financial calmative offered to them snatched away just as quickly. Who knows how much stress those payments could offer parents close to losing their homes. How much easier would it be for them to sleep soundly at night instead of tossing and turning wondering how to make ends meet. To maybe be able to stop budgeting down to the very last cent, even if it is only a short while.

How horribly torturous of you. Really, fuck you.

Finally, In recent days, there has been much talk of diverting funds from the stimulus package to the victims of the Victorian Bushfires. This is in addition to the uncapped resources the government has allowed for, the $30 million raised so far by individuals and the $30-odd million donated by governments and corporations. These are awesome amounts and efforts in these hard times and in the face of such a tragic event.

But those caught up in the moment need to stop giving my cash bonus away. I’ve seen and heard through media comments and quotes of people who are donating not only the payments they would be entitled to but everyone else’s as well to the fire appeals.

It’s awesome you want to donate the cash you’d receive if the stimulus package is passed because you’re doing that well. But these payments were formulated for a reason before the fires and that event has not changed the position of struggling families and those who do need it. Don’t say that you’re sure that all of Australia would want to give their entire bonus to the fire appeals. What people want and what they can afford are different things. I’m sure that if passed, people would give what they can afford, but stop assuming that a family needing food or to pay urgent bills are less worthy or in desperate need of the money than fire refugees.

I’m done now.

Happy birthday to us.

On this Australia Day, I would like to invite the indigenous population of this fair country to please, shut the fuck up. Jesus fuck, do you people never stop whining?

Unless you can produce a birth certificate in the name of Methuselah, not one of you fuckers were alive when the first fleet landed. This means you don’t get to cry and bitch and complain that today is an offensive day of celebration because it was the day your world was turned upside down.

Nigga, plz.

Shut up. Stop being unpatriotic and offending Australians who aren’t whining petrol sniffing drunks by calling today ‘Invasion Day’. Or find another country and ‘invade’ it for yourselves and leave the rest of us in peace.

Fuck off.

America, you so funny

No one is more happy than me (other than you lot. Probably) that you’ve finally elected an educated, articulate and literate President. Really, I’m stoked.

And while I have no real personal issue with any of you, I do have a little request for one or two of your media. Just a gentle wink and nudge. Because I understand that sometime it’s hard for even us little unimportant other folk who live on the planet to pull our own heads out of our arses. I can’t imagine how much more difficult it must be when you know you’re the greatest nation in the world.

Seriously, please stop referring to your President as the leader of the free world. Whoever he is, past, present or future, he (or she) is not mine. I have my own Prime Minister and Queen and I’m rather fond of them. It’s awesome you’re so keen about your own country. But please realise it’s not the only country and frankly, from the outside, it really doesn’t seem that great.

Secondly, while I can appreciate the mood a pop vox can bring to a live broadcast, today, it’s proving an embarrassment to you. I’m yet to hear a single interviewee who speaks as though they attended and passed more than junior school. Stop making up your own tenses and conjugations. It’s probably also good for you not to use big words or words you don’t understand. It would be nice to think that your new President is not the only successfully educated person in your country.

Thank you and have a nice Inauguration Day.

Direction is gud

XI : Do you want to hear what two of my long-term goals are Mummy?
Me: Sure.
XI : I want to drink an entire carton of custard and unload a whole bottle of whipped cream straight into my mouth.
Me: …
.

Sometimes, words are insufficient.

Show me the way to go home

I’m tired and I want to go to bed,
I had a little drink about an hour ago,
and it’s gone right to my head.

Oh for fuck’s sake. This. Again.

For those who don’t know the full story, in 2004, some dude got drunk (hereon known as Drunken Dude) and started causing teh_drunken_drahmah. He was picked up by The Blues and left in a cell overnight to sleep it off. Except Drunken Dude decided not to sleep it off, preferring to just die during the night instead.

It was easier than dealing with the hangover the next day.

Now, because this Drunken Dude’s liver was mush and because apparently, that night when his blood alcohol level read 0.29 was the first time he’d ever had a little too much, and because obviously, the cops who had nothing better to do were jealous of not only not being equally drunk but also of Drunken Dude’s massive endowment (I mean, he was black), he’d obviously been used as A White Man’s Punching Bag™.

Obviously.

Anyway. The local community, upon hearing of Drunken Dude’s death, decided to throw a spontaneous wake spanning many days and nights. They enacted several sacred tribal celebrations of the dead including, torching government and private buildings, threatening thanking any Whities in the vicinity, fireworks in a bottle, car remodelling. You know – just the general mourning rites we all partake in at some point.

But see, The Copper involved decided he was going to be a party pooper because it was justnotfair (!) that he didn’t have a big black cock too. He refused to bend over and take any more celebratory backdoor rogering by those who credited him with intentionally mistaking Drunken Dude’s liver for his speed-ball that night.

Stink.

And since it is an unwritten law that Drunken Dude’s with big black cocks should never have to be responsible for their own actions and always, always die suspicious deaths (for them, livers exploded from excess alcohol consumption is a genetically inherited condition and not life-threatening at all), I am still having to listen to this fucking case be ruled on, appealed, reinvestigated, ruled on and appealed for the 400 millionth time this fucking millennium.

Even if his family were (and they weren’t, aren’t and NOT EVER) entitled to damages, they have used up about 7 times what they would have been awarded in legal aid with these constant fucking appeals. Therefore they should sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up and stop making this public servant’s life hell. And mine. Because I’m sick to fucking death of hearing every fucker with a big black cock (or some ugly bitch being porked by one) scream RACISM and GENOCIDE and BLACK DEATHS IN CUSTODY ZOMG because it’s their fucking Sovereign (fuck off) Right to be permanently drunk and a nuisance to the general public.

Go back to the fucking bush and leave civilised society alone.

Reasons women shouldn’t be allowed to make their own decisions: #834

I can’t sleep and I blame it all entirely (whether true in whole or part or not*) on this Dumb Bitch.

Any woman contemplating motherhood who could willingly thrust a lifetime (however short it may be) of pain, suffering and exploitation upon their unborn child should be seized and sterilised for lacking the mental capacity, rational decision making skills and selflessness needed to be a competent, caring maternal figure.

This is not a mild case of mental retardation which, with help, a child may be able to adapt a somewhat normal life (not to say I agree with this either) and be able to function in society. The abnormal growth inside this woman will have no quality of life once it is birthed. Without modern medicine, it probably wouldn’t survive gestation and almost certainly not for any substantial period of time once delivered. To carry through with the pregnancy is irresponsible and selfish.

In fact, the sadistic desire to inflict this suffering and torment on her own child that Dumb Bitch has should be enough to declare her unfit for motherhood. Frankly, I am astounded that her doctors can condone the continuation of this pregnancy.

There should be laws in place to prevent the continued gestation of a life that is so severely malformed that it will have no hope for anything resembling quality of life and do anything more than suffer and earn its parent’s money from freak-show interest.

And in case you were wondering, yes, I do believe in the benefits of Eugenics and no, I don’t think a woman has the right to do whatever the fuck she wants with her body when it involves another life. I’m also very much pro-male rights when it comes to pregnancy. I think anyone who is not needs to be cunt-punched until their ovaries are pulverised and can’t breed.

* Most likely not.

Top 15 reasons why I am better than your current girlfriend.

1. I hate the yearly reminder I’m getting older so I don’t care if you forget my birthday.

2. I’ve never watched a single episode of the following:

- Sex in the City
- Friends
- Will and Grace
- Lost
- Desperate Housewives

Or anything similar and am therefore unlikely to whine about you sitting next to me on the lounge while I watch them. Or steal the remote while you’re watching sport . I should be using that time to suck cock, cook or clean instead anyway.

3. I like sex too much to risk missing out by using it as a bargaining chip.

4. I like it in teh pooper. In fact, I’ll beg for it over vaginal penetration.

5. Am embittered of love and will never do it again. You don’t need to make grand gestures of adoration and devotion to me.

6. I use words like embittered and know what they mean.

7. I don’t think it’s a male’s place to do housework. I know I look hot cleaning the toilet. I’m not going to deny you that.

8. I do arse > mouth

9. I think women are dumb and annoying and as such I do not have a sewing circle of girlfriends to whom you will also answer.

10. I’m only a lesbian in bed.

11. I like being in the kitchen and making awesome a) sandwiches ; b) pie ; c) pretty much anything.

12. I’m rich so I don’t need your money.

13. I would rather swallow your piss every morning than read Germaine Greer. Actually, that turns me on.

14. I hate talking on the phone.

15. Can I get you anything while I’m up?

Top 5 reasons why you might think I’m not better than your current girlfriend:

1. You’re a fag.
2. You smell bad and I refused to do you.
3. You’re not too bright and I refused to do you.
4. You’re Dave and you don’t have a current girlfriend.
5. You’re a fag.

.

I’ll get around to making a real entry one day.

10 Things.

Stuff about me that may be pertinent if you’re reading. And because list-entries are hella fun.

1. I’m not yet 30.
2. I old school most things.
3. I am radically conservative such that I have an absolute intolerance for liberal cardiac illness.
4. I do not subscribe to any religion. Except that which resides within these walls.
5. a) I collect Third Reich memorabilia ; b) And bibles.
6. I don’t do one night stands.
7. a) I don’t drink ; b) or do drugs.
8. My dog has eaten something that has given him an upset stomach. He’s puking and shitting everywhere and he looks miserable. That makes me miserable.
9. My favourite lubricant is chilli oil. Tears make the hatefucking real and therefore awesome.
10. I don’t have friends because they take too much energy and effort.

None of that is likely to help you much if you don’t already know me. But I rock.

Ask Dave.

First

Dave told me I should start a new blog and since I know that he is awesome and the most important authority in my life and therefore the only person I should listen to and follow without question, I did. Am good girl.

And I like it in teh pooper.

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More to come.