Victorian Police Officer Caught Dancing At Murder Scene

The Victoria Police is embroiled in scandal today as journalists captured photographs of a female officer apparently doing a ‘ribbon dance’ with police tape while cordoning off a murder scene in Bendigo.

The close community, already shaken by such a violent crime, has reacted strongly against what it perceives as disrespectful and grossly unprofessional behaviour.

A source outside the newsagency at the time said: “It was unbelievable. It was such a sombre scene and she just breaks into some sort of rhythmic gymnastics routine. A couple of people giggled and that seemed to spur her on, she was getting right into it. I just thought it was completely out of order.”

The dancing officer was allegedly pulled into line by a colleague who ushered her away from the media and assembled public, some quite disturbed by her antics in a scene that threatened to turn very ugly.

“Someone’s been murdered, for f___’s sake, have some respect.”, shouted an onlooker.

The outraged Bendigo community wants an explanation. Victoria Police has declined to comment on the matter pending further investigation.

A Valentine’s Day Wish For All.

Valentine’s Day can go and fuck a dead horse!

What a stupid, nauseatingly saccharine day. I’m not anti-romance, I just don’t get why everyone shits all over themselves for one day a fucking year. GET A GRIP FUCKHEADS, YOU’VE BEEN SOLD!!! If you’re in a relationship you have anniversaries and every day of your life to let the one you love know how special they are to you. You don’t need a generic day unless you’re a shit partner. If you’re single Valentine’s Day either makes you want to kill yourself for being a fat, ugly, stinky, socially dysfunctional, grotesque, sexually inept nebbish and utter failure OR WORSE, it turns you into a fucking desperado who can’t bear his/ser own company and would rather jettison every shred of self-respect, identity and decency in an effort to be a temporary accessory in someone else’s fantasy of their own banal excuse for a life.

Couples are the fucking worst on Valentine’s Day because they get all smug, even if they haven’t fucked for a decade, and rub their single friends’ noses in it talking about how blessed they are and how really Valentine’s Day is just a formality because every day is Valentine’s Day when you’re with your soul mate. I just want to tear their fucking lips off and vomit on their vacant, doe-eyed faces. Just fucking hurry up: breed, die and shut your fucking holes so we can all get on with life, you miserable suburban cock rags! 

It’s a little known fact that the St Valentine’s Day Massacre had nothing to do with mob rivalry and was actually revenge sparked by a nasty incident on 13^th February, 1929. Al Capone had just ended a particularly unhappy love affair when he was found eating alone and sobbing into a bowl of spaghetti puttanesca by Frank Gusenberg, four of his mates and their wives. Despite the fact that their boss, Bugs Moran, and Al weren’t the best of mates, they decided to cheer ol’ Scarface up by sitting down with him to recount tales of how they all met their wives, the little cute things they loved about each other, how they all came by their pet names and their secrets for having and maintaining healthy and loving relationships. Al finally got away from them shortly after midnight and immediately boarded a flight to Florida. On his way to the airport he arranged to have the fucking lot of them (wives excluded – things were civilized back then) lined up against a wall and fucking shot first thing in the cunting morning, and so it was! Fucking wholly deserved too, I’m surprised there aren’t St. Valentine’s Day Massacres like that every fucking year. 

If you’re happy this Valentine’s Day, do us both a favour – SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

In Contempt Of Court.

You fucking bet I hold the Federal Court ruling yesterday in contempt. Justice Jacobson has proved himself to be either a congenital moron or a corrupt motherfucker when he handed down a ruling that the Men At Work song Down Under plagarised the late Marion Sinclair’s children’s song Kookaburra Sits In The Old Gum Tree.

I scoffed at this case when I first heard about it because it was so ridiculous. The songs are nothing alike and the flute line in Down Under that is the cause of this law suit is in no way a substantial enough portion of the song to warrant anyone giving two shits about it. The fact is you’d have to have been living in another galaxy not to have heard this song in the early 1980s and nobody complained about it then, not even Kookaburra’s then-alive writer, Marion Sinclair. 

However, when smarmy cockface Norm Lurie of Larrikin Music Publishing got his filthy mitts on the rights to the old kids tune’, he saw a dazzling opportunity to defraud legends and genuine Australian song writers Colin Hay and Ron Strykert, and their label EMI,  of hard-earned income from their own creation. 

Painting himself as the underdog against EMI, the truly cuntful little man Lurie made out he was just trying to set the balance right for poor-dearly-departed Mrs Sinclair. What a lying old fuckbag! His case was nothing more than a cynical attempt to legally steal from Australian artists by a multi-national. 

I’m so angry I could just shit my own pants! Fuck you Justice Jacobson! Fuck you Larrikin Music Publishing! Most of all: Fuck you, Norm Lurie! I hope you get arse cancer and die! 

Down Under is an iconic Aussie song and while there are many things about this country I don’t like, some things are sacred. Stealing a seminal work of pop culture from the artists who created it is a shitting crime and Norm Lurie and his cronies should be doused in petrol and burned alive. I admire the hell out of Colin Hay for being able to keep his cool over this and I hope to fuck they can appeal this decision and get some proper justice, because when the justice system fails as badly as it has in this situation all I can do is pray that there are armed vigilantes like Paul Kersey out there to set the record straight!

 

Anyone wishing to communicate their displeasure with Mr Lurie in person can use these:

Norm Lurie – Dirty Cunting Shitstick Opportunist.

Email: norml@musicsales.com.au

Tel: +61 2 8252 6200

Sometimes The Thing’s The Thing.

OK. No! I’m wrong! I apologise. I take it all back.

My post from yesterday, forget about it, I think I’ve got it all terribly wrong. Maybe the Queensland Government has got the right idea. Maybe if some thing is a problem, rather than trying to change human behaviour making it a problem we should just remove the thing.

This story is everywhere at the moment and is just the latest in a horrendous trend of male Australian sportsmen, particularly footballers from various codes, raping or otherwise assaulting women 

These guys are completely fucked. Two girls were lured back to a holiday house rented by football players from the Montmorency Football Club for an end-of-year-get-shitfaced-and rape-some-chicks trip. Once they were there and realised they were the only girls at the party, they were allegedly forced into separate bedrooms, wardrobes were used to bar the doors to prevent the girls’ escape and then they were allegedly raped by up to 16 players for several hours. They only escaped in the morning when a brawl erupted between the allegedly stinking drunken animals. 

These men should be lined up, shot, and fed to pigs. 

The Montmorency Football Club should be shut down. Fuck off, who needs you? You’re not a sports club you’re a training ground for criminals and deviates. It appears that someone at the club tried to hire a XXX stripper for the team to have a crack at “no limits” style about a month ago, but it also looks as though their budget wasn’t going to stretch that far, so I guess they just thought they’d grab some freebies. 

As a guy I’m reticent to suggest this under any circumstances ever but if we just cut the dicks and balls off all football players (yes, all of them) we can stop this insidious menace to the women of Australia. I hope you don’t think I’m being flippant, I’m not. I think this is the best possible solution and it will instantly stop the problem permanently. Cut all their dicks off. The dicks are the problem. Footballers are stupid so all the education in the world would be a wasted exercise – just look at Sam Newman, he still hasn’t learnt. I say chop ‘em all off.

Footy player?

Oh, Yeah.

Alright we’re cutting your cock off!

But why? I’m a nice guy.

Tough shit, can’t take any chances, you play footy, you’re obviously a fuckwit and probably a rapist given enough booze and a gee-up from your mates. It’s coming off. Get over it.

Oh…OK…Can I still play footy?

Yeah, but you’ll look funny when you run.

Simple as that! Cut off all their dicks and you’ll solve it all forever. They can’t be trusted to use their dicks properly so they shouldn’t be allowed to have them. And seriously, fuck knows they’re not doing the gene pool any favours. There’s no loss here. Human kind can do better.

Queensland Government Fights The War Against Glass!

Good work Queensland, you fucking gimps! What a stupid, stupid place to live. Queensland, the home of XXXX ‘beer’, Bundaberg Rum and rampant stupidity. Let’s ignore the fact that the recalcitrant fucks have refused daylight saving because it fades the curtains and confuses the cows. Let’s ignore the fact that no bastard in the entire state knows how to make a decent cup of coffee. I just want to focus in on this latest piece of idiocy.

The Queensland Government is in the process of banning  glass in pubs. Why? Because the lousy, cowardly bogan fucks of Queensland, just like those found elswhere across the country, have taken to glassing the shit out of anyone they take a dislike to when they’ve got a skin full of piss.

I don’t think there’s any doubt that glassing is awful. It’s shithouse! There is very little that’s quite as reprehensible as taking glass to an unarmed opponent. It’s a piss-weak piece of hooliganism that seems to have been adopted from the UK – thanks for another fine cultural export, right up there with foxes, small pox and convicts! I have the greatest sympathy for victims of this sort of cowardice, however, the problem I have with the removal of glass from pubs is that it doesn’t solve the fucking problem, it’s just a thoroughly cock-brained piece of policy-making that fucks up everyone’s pub experience. As civilized adults we should be able to enjoy a cold beer from a chilled glass. We should be able to drink wine, or whatever else for that matter, from glass vessels. Glass is beautiful. Organic. Dignified. Plastic is carcinogenic and arse! We shouldn’t be relegated to slurping out of plastic beakers like children just because there are a percentage douche bags in our midst. Why should everyone’s lifestyle take a dive because a minority is fucked in the head? IT CUNTING WELL SHOULDN’T!!!

If you take a glass to someone you should be charged with attempted murder. That’s what it is. Glass is a potentially lethal weapon. You glass someone, you may not be trying to kill them, but you are maliciously trying to permanently disfigure them in a way that will – especially in a society as superficial as ours – destroy their life as they know it. You should be locked away for the rest of your stupid life. Get fucked! You should not be allowed to be part of society. It’s that fucking simple. I realise that people are stupid and that drunk people are doubly so but, seriously, a fuckload more people would exercise some restraint if they thought they’d never see the light of day again. Lock the dickheads away. Shut them away forever. Until they fucking well die. Then the rest of us can get back to enjoying our beers out of good old pint glasses like grown-ups rather than drinking out of plastic cups like we’re at some 7 year old’s birthday party.

If you ban glass, society’s shit-sticks will just find other things to mutilate people with. What will you ban next? Pool cues? Pool balls and anyone wearing socks? Chairs? Pencils? What exactly will you be left with? Why not ban alcohol? While you’re at it ban cars, toasters, lawnmowers, cutlery and toothbrushes? Why not ban razor blades – they’re fucking dangerous, and fuck it, I’ll still feel like a man shaving my face with Veet! WHY NOT MAKE THE ENTIRE WORLD OUT OF CUNTING MARSHMALLOWS??? WHY NOT JUST FUCKING KILL YOURSELVES YOU FUCKING USELESS, TERRIFIED CUNTS??? FOR FUCK’S SAKE: TAKE THE FUCKHEADS AND LOCK THEM AWAY!!! THAT’S WHAT WE HAVE CUNTING PRISONS FOR!!!

Welcome To The Death Of Freedom.

Really it’s just a matter of time before the death squads start rounding us up and our relatives never hear from us again.

We’re sitting fat in our obese western consumocracy, pudgy fingers flicking between infomercials, relieved that we’re so much luckier than all those poor, starving, war-ravaged Africans and so much freer than the oh-so-shat-upon Chinese. What a fucking joke! We have no freedom, we gave that shit away, and we have no culture except buying shit we don’t need. Our own democratically elected government is placing a filter on our internet content that is rivaled only by China’s.  WHAT THE CUNT? I’m all for protecting people but this shit just keeps getting worse. What started out as a  kiddie porn filter is being expanded to block sites that sell or host games that do not meet Australia’s game ratings standards. Let’s ignore the fact that the filter is at best a stupid idea and that it would be a better idea to hunt down and prosecute pedos instead of censoring the net. They’re fucking computer games, I’m an adult, I think I can fucking handle it!

I don’t necessarily give a fuck about the games, what I care about is the removal from adults of the choice of whether they do something that does no harm whatsoever to anyone else.  Removal of choice. Removal of choice is removal of freedom and any removal of freedom de-humanises us. But it’s just a web filter. Bullshit! It’s censorship at its most ridiculous*. Censorship unheard of in any other civilised country in the world. But if that doesn’t matter to you then, yeah OK, today it’s a web filter. But what tomorrow? Revoking our right to freedom of assembly? Let’s fucking face it, we’re already well on the fucking way there. 

May 31st Melbournians may remember there was a peaceful gathering outside Flinders Street Station in protest against the recent violent attacks against Indian students that authorities have been trying to deny are racially motivated. This was a non-violent demonstration against violence …and the police’s reaction? Bash ‘em! Concerned that the demonstration might interest or embarrass commuters entering or leaving Flinders Street Station later that morning the police beat and kicked their way through masses of innocent citizens who were not breaking any law whatsoever. They chased the demonstrators through Flinders Street Station and beat anyone of Indian appearance that they could lay hands or a baton on. I had white friends in that demonstration and they were stunned that once away from the immediate site of the demonstration the police no longer targeted them, the police were racially profiling victims, passing by white people who had been involved in the demonstration and beating the nob out of anyone who looked vaguely Indian. I think it is a telling comment on our society that a peaceful protest against racially motivated violence and the government’s  indifference to it is met with government issued, racially targeted violence.

The reporting of this event in the Australian media was also very telling. Disregarding any notion of police brutality let alone racism, many reports told of the peaceful protest being hijacked by non-Indian trouble-makers. The people I’ve spoken to both Indian and non-Indian tell me that this is simply not true. They tell me that the ethnically diverse make-up of the demonstration was a very harmonious coming together of Australians in solidarity against disgusting acts of cowardice. They tell me that the only antagonism or “trouble-making” was from the police, many of whom were allegedly smiling as they kicked into seated members of the assembled crowd. Ah, there’s nothing as good as getting paid to smash people, is there?

So what is the message? Don’t play games unless they’re approved by the state, and don’t protest against injustice unless you want to get fuck bashed out of you. What sort of country is it that has rules like this? Is this a free or civilized nation?

What we’re witnessing is a removal of options and a crackdown on dissent. Like the removing of words from the dictionary in 1984, a gradual, incremental removal of liberties and choices. Remove choices and you force compliance. Remove ideas and you control the masses. Now I don’t want anarchy and I don’t want to watch child pornography but  I do want to be free. I want to be able to choose how I live and I want the freedom to choose wrongly. I don’t mind law and I’m perfectly willing to accept consequences for breaking the law, however, if I am unable to choose then there is no virtue in my living according to the rules. Without the possibility of a choice to be virtuous or wicked I lose my humanity,  I merely exist. I take up space and I consume and I die. I’m a cow with thumbs and a credit card. Relax you over-caffeinated fuck, you’re still free!  Yeah sure, free to stay safe in my house, to keep buying from big business’ catalogue of state-approved freedoms. Free to keep working to attain material wealth to spend on trivialities to anesthetize the deep feeling of loss I can’t articulate for a life I’m incapable of imagining. Keep the wheels of commerce greased. Have a Big Mac. Dial 13-bigfaketits. We’re being dumbed down and fattened up, ready for the slaughter. 

Coming Soon To Australia: Keep an eye out for book burnings, sedition charges, witch hunts and ethnic cleansing. 

* Fact: The average age of gamers in Australia is 30 yet there is no R18+ game rating in Australia. Think about it.  Stephen Conroy, you’re a stupid, stupid useless cunt of a man.

God is Love, eh?

If ever the atheists of the world wanted proof of the non-existence of God, surely it must be right here in front of our faces in the fact that The Catholic Church still exists. An organisation that exploits the poor, promotes the spread of AIDS, protects paedophiles and war criminals, hates and discriminates against women and gay people and imprints its members from birth with fear of eternal torture beyond their wildest imaginings for failure to conform to its dogma…oh, and the guilt that they deserve said eternal torture. Surely if the omni-present, omnipotent, compassionate deity they worship actually existed, He would have blasted their cult from the planet’s surface Sodom-&-Gomorrah-style for its blasphemy!

 

I imagine you’ve read about the 9 year old girl in Brazil who was impregnated with twins by her step-father. Under Brazilian law a woman may only have an abortion if either she has been raped or if the pregnancy threatens her life. This case met both of these criteria. If the victim carried the twins to term they would almost certainly have killed her due to her small pelvis and in that event it’s doubtful that the twins would have survived either. YET, the local arch bishop has excommunicated the girl’s mother  and the doctors involved for their participation in the abortion – a crime against God. And the Vatican has approved the move!  That’s right, according to men who base their entire lives on a specific reading of an incomplete book of 2000 year old fairytales, the doctors and mother – trying to save any semblance of life this poor girl might salvage – are the criminals. On the upside, the rapist step-father is still welcome in church, or at least will be if he ever gets out of jail. He may have raped his step-daughter and her disabled sister for three years but, fuck, nobody’s perfect! WHAT THE CUNT???

 

I tend to believe they’re all better off without the church. But, Hell, I believe the world would be a better place if every organised religion in the entire world was dismantled and their vast capital used for the betterment of humankind rather than being allowed to continue to enslave the under-educated with superstition and cheap con tricks. Unfortunately, I also believe that people should be able to believe whatever they like so long as it doesn’t interfere with anyone else’s existence and I don’t really have any power so the bastards are pretty safe for now.

 

The truly fucked thing is that The Catholic Church has a long history of siding with bad guys:

• Their record of either committing, supporting or covering up paedophilia is so poor that you can’t even make jokes about it anymore. 
• They helped Nazi war criminals and a good bit of their loot escape after WWII, and today there are bunch of neo-Nazi priests in Brazil who are denying the holocaust ever happened. 
• Does anyone remember Crusades? That was kinda fucked up! I mean surely it’s hard to point the shitty stick at Muslim extremists after that.
• What about the Holy Inquisition? The holocaust which claimed up to 9 million lives across europe – 80-90% of them women – but I guess they can argue that was justified, after all they sure got rid of all those fucking witches!

 

Organised religion is a fucking cancer! It openly relies upon and endorses people behaving like sheep – being loyal and docile and never questioning even the most absurd bullshit. Fuck that! Bring on education! Bring on curiosity, questioning, discussion and dissent! We have over 6 billion people choking up the planet, facing extinction and a representative of one of the world’s richest multi-national organisations focusses on making one small child feel worse about herself for being sexually abused and impregnated than she already does? How the fuck does a compassionate God justify that shit? Hmm…He doesn’t, does he? No, strangely, as always God remains silent on the whole thing while a bunch of sexually-repressed men who’ve never lived in the real world have to interpret His will from the ether.

 

God has spoken to me

 

Yeah, sure he has…and Elvis has spoken to me – he says you’re a lying cunt! God is not speaking to these people, those voices are just other, more powerful guys in more ornate robes, and that’s the way it’s always been with organised religion – evil men telling fantastic stories to frighten the general population into submitting to their will. A will that invariably leads to greater wealth and power for the men telling the stories. The people running the church and brandishing compassion and forgiveness are the same people who nail mouthy do-gooders to big pieces of wood for saying we should ditch the church and just be nice to each other.

 

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that God existed. There is no God. There is no afterlife. It won’t all get magically better after you die – you didn’t really fall for that, did you? It may not make you happy but this is as good as it gets…unless we get off our lazy arses and make it better ourselves. We created God in our own image so that we wouldn’t be afraid of the dark. Well, if we don’t fucking well grow the shit up, all we’ll ever have is darkness! Forever! YES, THAT INCLUDES YOU SMUG FUCKING CHRISTIANS TOO!!!

 

Stupid fuckin’ monkeys!

11 Shit Things That Make Share-House Living Suck – #9

 

#9. Homebrew, Hydroponics & An Appetite For Self-Destruction.

Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games…  

 

You’re young. You’re poor. You’re forced into sharing squalid surrounds with strangers. But you’re alive and parent-free and filled with a burning need to fuck and recreationally self-medicate as much of the time as possible, and why the balls not? The world is going to hell and holds little to no meaning, and the possibility of finding a job that you don’t want to top yourself for doing for the rest of you life is miniscule. Your best bet is to have some laughs and destroy as many brain cells as you can in the hope that you’ll stop caring and render yourself able to become a useful member of society. 

Good news: For over 15,000 years people with sod all money or education have been successfully brewing their own beer and getting right off their chops. It’s way cheaper than buying beer and provides you with a feeling of accomplishment whilst freeing up more of your precious cash for hardcore pharmaceuticals.

 

Good news 2: It’s fuckin’ legal!

 

You don’t have to be living with economics students to know brewing your own beer makes good financial sense, shit knows I wasn’t. Our entire house was, for the first time, unified in the mission of brewing and we became a little monk-like for a couple of weeks – checking, obsessing, focusing all our energies on the brew. We bottled and started another brew going. We bottled that and started another. Our cellar grew week by week and we waited for the brews to mature.

 

This enterprise inspired diversification in our endeavours and we constructed a small hydro setup in the ample broom closet and started growing two plants. We were set to become completely self-sufficient in basic intoxicants and we were very excited. The plants grew rapidly aided by a small UV light and numerous very questionable chemicals.

 

Finally, we harvested half a pound of buds once we’d run out of room in our makeshift cellar for bottles. We dried the weed and then chilled down a couple of dozen beers. To try. We tried. Ooh! Success. The beer was a pale lager style beer modeled after Mexican beers like Corona. Except it was about 6.5% alcohol so along with its crisp, refreshing taste and easy drinking body, it had a kick like a mule. The pot stopped time and rendered speech impossible.

 

Five months later we were still wasted. We were producing nearly four cartons of beer a week and had to put in a serious effort just to make sure we were drinking that much so as to keep the cellar from increasing. Also, having large quantites of free pot lying about meant that we were smoking bongs incessantly. Someone in the house always had a doobie going or so it seemed and no matter where you’d come from or where you were going someone in the house would offer you a hit. We had endless parties, we invited our friends for barbecues and told them just to bring meat. We were kings. Mad, mad, debauched maniacal kings. Intervention and/or rehab was inevitable.

 

So where’s the cunting problem, Buck, you fuckin’ ingrate? I hear you ask, and well you may.

 

My housemates and I were sitting in the lounge room one evening. We were suitably toasted and idly entertaining the possibility of roping in our chemist mate in to help us make some LSD, a move that might well usher in a golden age in our Kingdom of Lad. We all jumped at the sound of the front door being smashed open. It didn’t come off its hinges but the deadlock tore through the frame and the inner handle punched a hole through the gyprock. I turned to face the sound and saw a flash of dirty denim and ginger goatee before the end of his baseball bat sank into my solar plexus and I crashed to the floor with the fear that I’d never be able to breathe in again. A heavy boot stomped between my shoulder blades forcing my cheek into the roughly finished floorboards. The double barrels of a sawn-off shotgun quickly filled my field of vision. I could hear the distant pleading of my house-mates amongst gruff threats and the sounds of the house being torn apart. My eyes were full of tears and my diaphragm was spasming air in and out of my body in such a way that I felt like a fish drowning in air on the deck of a boat.

…you’re in the jungle, baby! You’re gonna die!!! 

 

I couldn’t get my head around the terrifying reality that I was about to die in a gang related drug den massacre. My mum really didn’t deserve this. The voices were increasingly impatient in their demands and my body refused to let me answer. I pointed desperately to the esky in the middle of the lounge room floor. Calloused fingers flung the lid off the esky and pulled out a garbage bag full of weed. Congratulatory cheers followed. The shotgun withdrew. Another neanderthal returned to the room having found our meager broom-closet greenhouse with the verdict: Nah, it’s bullshit, they’re just cunts! Laughter. Ah well, thanks cunts. Oh, and don’t remember us or we’ll come back and kill yas! More laughter. Exit the bogan horde in a roar of Harley Davidson belligerence.

 

It seemed that despite our relatively small social circle, our friends had regaled their friends with tales of our enterprises and the resultant parties. These tales had been passed on, embellished and degrees of separation had closed until a group of hairy, stinky fucking outlaw bikies had decided to shut down our non-profit crime empire. It also seemed that I’d pissed my pants. Fuck you, near death experiences!

Nick D’Arcy – Ambassador For A Nation Of Convicts.

 

Fuckin’ sporto jockstrap boof-head wankers! In this country, they are a priviledged class that sits above the rest of us mere mortals purely because of a genetic predisposition to be good at sport. They get worshipped, pampered and paid exorbitant amounts for playing games. It may be heresy to say in sport-obsessed Australia but what they do is of NO benefit to society. I don’t really care about any of that, what really shits my bed is that the Australian public are happy for athletes to flout the law, behave like reprobates and still be held up in the international sphere as paragons of our society.

 

Nick D’Arcy, the swimmer charged with assault over breaking another athlete’s cheek, jaw and palate when drunk and full of himself, looks as though he’ll still be going to represent Australia at the Beijing Olympics. The AOC and The Court of Arbitration For Sport are tying themselves up in knots trying to find a decent justification for letting him go that won’t make them look like the supporters of criminal violence that they are. I was disgusted to read this piece of apologist bullshit in The Age, desperately trying to illicit sympathy for a man who should be in prison rather than being endorsed as a cultural ambassador of his country.

 

The AOC is obliged to consider the consequences for D’Arcy if he is booted out. Cyclist Jobie Dajka was kicked out of the Athens team in 2004 after lying to a drug inquiry. Three years of depression and alcoholism ensued, and a suspended jail term for an assault on a cycling coach. “I was drinking six litres of wine a day to numb the pain,” Dajka said last month.

 

What the fuck was that? If he’s punished he might become a sad, violent substance abuser? Big fucking deal! He’s already a violent substance abuser, the only difference is he might get sad. What? Don’t most criminals become depressed when punished for their offences? Is that because punishment is not nice? Why is it we don’t feel sorry for ordinary crims? Could it be because the lousy fucks aren’t any good at sport? Yeah, what fucking losers!

 

What the ball-chafing fuck is wrong with this country? It’s Newton’s Third Law, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Just because sportspeople are too thick to be able to comprehend the consequences of their actions does not mean they should be exempt from those consequences. Yes, people fuck up. But the way people learn to not fuck up is through consequences. If a normal person gets drunk and smashes another person’s skull in a momentary fit of drunken rage, they go to prison. Any average crim would get laughed at if they said, Yeah, sorry I bashed him but can I still go to that sports carnival? The judge would say No, fucktard, you cannot. You can get a jolly good rogering from your cellmate for a couple of years while you learn to control yourself?

 

I’m well aware Nick D’Arcy probably feels pretty bad about what he’s done, as he fuckin’ well should, but I’d wager that most of why he feels bad is because he stands to lose something he cares about. Punishment has no meaning if it doesn’t hurt, so fuck him! 

 

The AOC needs to get its shit together and take a hard line on boof-head Nick D’Arcy. He’s a fucking criminal and, good athlete or not, he shouldn’t represent Australia in Beijing. If he does, we might as well teach our children to fight and tell them that bullying is fine if you’re good at sport. We might as well make certain our kids forget everything in their lives except sport because if you’re good at sport you can bash and rape your way through life with impunity. This is Australia. We’re convicts. Get fucked!!!

You’ve Got Buckley’s.

I received this yesterday, I thought I’d share it with you.

Dear Mr Frain,

It has come to my client’s attention that you have been reproducing her anecdotal material in written form on your blog entitled “Buck Frain’s Angry Place.”

Not only does this action breach The Privacy Act, as my client was not approached for permission before publishing details of her personal life, but it also constitutes fraud, as you have been passing off events in my client’s life as your own experiences. Perhaps most seriously, you have on several occasions voiced your desires to make profit from the blog. Doing so would constitute theft of intellectual property.

My client fully intends to take swift legal action unless a settlement can be reached out of court. At this stage, I suggest damages of $50,000.00

My client and I eagerly await your response.

Yours Sincerely,

[name withheld]

I’ve withheld the name and list of legal qualifications in the interest of avoiding further legal action and seeing as the persons in question are evidently reading the blog, rather than actually replying to them personally, I thought I might just answer it here:

Get Fucked!!!

First of all, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. Secondly, even I’m not stupid enough to think anyone actually makes money out of blogging. Thirdly, if I had $50,000, which I don’t, I’d sooner blow it all on cocaine and hookers and get whacked by hired goons than give you one pissy cent. Bring on your legal action. Bring it! I live for this shit. You think you can touch me? I’m a fucking fictional character. Any resemblance I have to persons living or dead, or that anything in my world has to people or events, real, imagined or hallucinated is purely coincidental. You can eat my fictional shit! Ha Ha Ha!!! My life might suck pretty bad and not really exist but I’m damn near invincible. The only person who can touch me is my author. Ow, that was my eye! Fuck! That really hurts! …CUNT!

In conclusion, [name withheld], I reject your suggestion, I spurn you and your client, I regard you with the utmost contempt, I question your credentials and your parentage, I have placed your letter in my yard and I intend to piss on it every morning this week, and should I ever come to visit your house I will wipe my nob on your curtains.

BALLS! ARSE! CUNT! PISSFLAPS! JISM!

Buck Frain.