» Racist grandparents

YOU ARE ALL RACIST.
Just to keep some perspective here - NO ONE has come on and related any tales of how their grandad and his mates once ran down a nigger in a pickup truck and then lynched him from a fucking banyan tree for the crime of smiling at some white cunt. It's all been about some doddery old fruits making retarded comments.

You can claim that it was understandable for the grannies to be racist because they didn't know any better. They were told that their race was the most superior and that other races were morally decadent, and a threat, and had that attitude reinforced by fear and ignorance for their entire lives.

So what is your excuse?? If you are so damned enlightened now and claim to know better, why are you still supporting the regime that keeps struggling third world economies in economic bondage?

The cocoa in your chocolate IS produced by slave children. The coltan in your mobile phone IS mined by slave children. The palm oil in so many of your products IS grown by removing tribal peoples from their lands at gun point.
Make changes to your habits now, or die a racist that your grandkids will mock and despise.

*edit* Right. That's that lot told.
(Tue 1st Nov 2011, 4:47, More)

» Meeting people from the internet

Operation Fox Hunt
O.K. So, I technically haven't met Rupert Fucking Murdoch - yet.

But I know him well from the poisonous, lying BULLSHIT he has fed my country for too long. In print, the airwaves and on my lovely internet.

If you have met an Australian with some alarmingly ignorant thick-headed ideals, odds are even that that is a Murdoch-'educated' zombie. And sadly there are millions of them.

Britain will FOREVER be my idol for showing the way and having the balls to stand up to him. That pie got very little play here. Because
...dun dun dunnnnn....

70% of the media in Ausfailure is owned by Murdoch.

No, I haven't met him - but we are coming for him.
And we are legion.
I hope he expects us.


click this. click it like a poorly-trained chimp if you want people to know they are not alone in this.

click it if you are insulted by the complete lack of integrity shown by those we entrusted - and paid well - to provide us with whole, unbiased information and you want your freedom of mind, and your money, back.

click it because, sweet holy fuck, I appear to be utterly shameless in regards to this matter :S


.
(Thu 27th Oct 2011, 1:46, More)

» Meeting people from the internet

I was a member of a website
populated by the shadiest assortment of basement-dwelling dog-rapists & kiddy-fiddlers who also happened to be in possession of the shonkiest set of photoshop skills that ever graced the lowest gutters of this internet. It was a truly magnificent place.
I say 'was' because recently that hallowed site seems to have cashed in it's chips and the Norwegian fellow by whose hand alone it could be resurrected seems to have gone AWOL about 7 years ago...
Look, it's very complicated o.k? But I met someone off it and I'm still alive. This is my story.

It was about 6 years ago, in the time before I got completely fucking sick of my fellow countrymen and became the happy and contented near-shut-in that I am today. Before I go too much further I have to confess to that I'm an Australian, Perthite to be precise. And one of the banal habits of us Aussies then - not so much now because this computing business seems to have gotten quite popular - was to be completely surprised and delighted when discovering that another Aussie has also worked out how to internet. In those heady days every Aussie online knew each other. So when S and I discovered that we both lived not only on the same continent BUT IN THE SAME STATE and only 3 hours apart, we became instant friends (also S is genuinely a pretty cool guy, to be fair...and in case by some weird magick he is reading this).
So when S messaged me that it was his 21st birthday coming up, I messaged back that that sounded pretty fucking sweet and I would be coming down.
At the time I was seeing a guy, Brad, I'd picked up off adultfriendfinder.com - who turned out to be an abusive psycho (surprise!), but that is another story - although probably a more interesting one if, like me, you're the kind of gratuitous voyeuristic arsehole who enjoys reading about other people's emotional trauma. And you know you are. I digress...
Long story short (ha! no it isn't!), it's after work friday night and Brad-the-psycho and I drive 3 hours down the coast and arrive in bumfuck W.A. (actually one of Western Ausfailure's major regional centres. If you've never been to Bunbury - it's like the south of France. Shut up, it is so. Don't google it.) We swing by a liquor store and grab a bottle of the second-to-finest tequila they have in stock for the birthday boy. Because I really am just that classy.
So by now it's geting lateish, and it's dark. And the local shire clearly didn't believe in wasting money on such frivolities as street signs - possibly to reduce the number of hanging points available to it's population. So I ring S and instead of giving us, you know, instructions, he said he'd drive out to meet us and guide us safely to his house like a big, friendly, probably-been-drinking-all-fucking-day tugboat. Realise that at this point we'd never met before so when he screeches to a halt up to where we were waiting on some desolate sideroad, it was all awkward hugs and introductions and then "Follow me!" so we followed. We got to the party and some drama involving low alcohol supplies was unfolding, so S waves us in and heads back out into the wilds of bumfuck on the mission to secure more appropriate levels of piss.
After his tail lights disappeared, it becomes pretty apparent that most of S's mates appeared to be 16 year old goth chicks with an added assortment of druggies, geeks and ne'er-do-wells. My kinda people, really, but Brad was a dick and an awkward one at that. It was still early days in what was only to be a two month relationship before he showed his true colours and I am a pretty nice person really, so to alleviate his awkwardness and the fact that he stuck out like the sorest of thumbs I stayed by him and was kinda prevented from mingling. For several hours. Until the party boy was processed and released from the lock-up, told that drinking and driving is stupid, m'kay?, and given his summons to appear before the local magistrate.
S finally arrived back at his party, which by this point seemed to involve setting a series of small spot fires in his backyard - they really, really liked to burn stuff. He then set about showing me how to imbibe a 'tequila suicide' which, if I recall, involved rubbing citric acid on one's EYEBALL and then slugging back a lethal-sized dose of tequila.
21st birthdays are memorable, milestone occasions and S's was no different. He got lots of nice gifts, some weed and some tequila, a medium-to-heavily charred backyard, temporary blindness and 8 months loss of his license. Top night.
(Thu 20th Oct 2011, 16:24, More)

» Tactless

This morning I woke up and Professor Kenny Martin had posted a story about illegal sexual activity involving a child.
Quentin Oftiweak
Guntfuggle Quackblast
TheManWithThePlan
CactusZack
and
fluffybunnykiller
all thought it was perfectly acceptable to make offensive jokes about this very sad event.

Am I being less tactless by posting this here, or should I really have gazed him privately about his filthy offensiveness & tactlessness?

www.b3ta.com/questions/tactless/post1421673

I really don't think I've the hang of this yet :/
(Tue 8th Nov 2011, 4:52, More)

» Devastating Put-Downs

My younger bro
when we were kids.
Early summer and fly-season was in full swing. After the usual few dozen trips outside and back in again, leaving the screen door wide open, my mother lost it a bit and slammed the door after him - "Were you born in a bloody tent?!" "No. I was born in a hospital and I didn't have to close the doors there, either!"
(Sun 27th Nov 2011, 8:33, More)