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» Shit Bosses

I have to be a bit circumspect here as this tale may still be the subject of ongoing legal proceedings.
In my youth I was a bit of a Leftie (I've always been of the Sinister Persuasion). This meant that in most of my jobs I've put my hand up to be the Union Rep. Not a bad gig - get to bunk off if someone needs to talk about an issue and some good management/HR training paid for by the company.

In this job I was one of the youngest staff members. Only older than Doreen by a couple of years. Doreen was the comely daughter of the checkout manager Elaine. Elaine was a right bitch. The sort of woman who would smile, chat and be friendly with you, even go out to drinks on Friday night after work and drunkenly profess to "really likin' you m8!" but would lodge a formal complaint with management against you for so much as looking at her 'wrongly'.
One day Doreen comes to me and says "I think there's a problem with my pay.", my 'gettin' done wrong by The Man' ears pricked up and she told me how since she started with the company over 3 years ago, payroll had been giving her pay-packet to her mother and her mum only gave her $50/week out of it. This of course being a time when you got your pay in a little yellow envelope with all the amounts and YTD tax info written out carefully by payroll rather than just handing over your bank account and tax details.
Hmm. I first asked if she had an agreement with her parents to pay board or rent, she was 18 and still lived at home. And getting a negative response I asked if she had a bank account and was her mum depositing in there? Nup. So in short - her mum, who was also her boss was illegally garnishing her pay each week of about $500-$600.

My first stop was payroll - apparently Elaine was a good mate and even though they'd been a bit iffy about it they decided to give her Doreen's pay-packets anyway. Despite it being against the law - the only people who could pick up your pay if you couldn't had to have written permission and it needed to be pre-arranged. So then I went to my manager. He said it was between Doreen and her mum. So did the store manger.
Umm, no it wasn't because payroll was complicit in handing Doreen's pay-packet over to her mother illegally and without Doreen's permission.

Eventually I took it to the regional Head Office. With a lawyer from the union.
In short time - Doreen had about $65,000 deposited in her bank account (apparently and unsurprisingly Elaine had spent all of Doreen's pay checks), Elaine was shitcanned with no severance or entitlements, store management was given a rap on the knuckles for passing the buck, payroll were on written warnings, Doreen was given the position of checkout supervisor and I was easily the most unpopular person working there. Elaine went on to appeal her termination of employment in one the early cases of unfair dismissal - hence the need to be careful what I say.

Sadly Doreen's drunken post "after work drinks at the pub" BJ's paled in comparison with her mothers.
(Sat 11th Apr 2015, 7:38, More)

» Changing Your Mind

A bit of an epiphany really.
Sitting in the lounge-room a few weeks ago after dinner, just talking as a family - nothing very special.
The topic of winning the lottery came up and my eldest (teen) suggested a game of "What if..." for winning 30 odd million dollars.

There was all the usual excesses - futuristic coffee machines, holidays in places like Florida and France, even buying vast property portfolios. EDIT: And pizza ovens, tear filled 44,000L pools and scooters to ferry people around during disasters.
Yes, I've been lurking and reading the archives.

But it was my youngest (tween) who is the star of this story. She rattled off a bunch of ideas including
- Properties she'd buy, where and why to maximise her capital growth.
- Investments, which blue-chips she'd buy and why.
- The amount she would donate to charities (which ones and why) in percentages, to ensure she would viewed as 'philanthropic' and to assuage her privileged guilt at being so filthy fucking rich.
- How she would structure her portfolio to not only minimise income tax immediately but also to try and avoid capital gains tax in the future.
- Which Pound puppies she'd buy for which friends since they hadn't been bitches to her this term.

I sat back, took a long look at her and realised that this precious little bundle who I've always envisaged having to protect from the outside world fiercely is actually going to be able to make her way in the world pretty fucking well without me. Maybe even a little too ruthlessly.
As a parent - one of the best and scariest feelings ever.
(Thu 2nd Apr 2015, 21:35, More)

» Changing Your Mind

Believing clich├ęs.
This happened a few years ago on a family holiday in Victoria. At a place called Maru Animal Park. Being from "Maaaahlburn" we did a few of the more off the beaten track touristy things and visiting here was one of them.
Apparently there is a salt water pool full of tears somewhere nearby that was worth a look but buggered if I could find it!

The place we stayed at had a wildlife park nearby. After a day of the trouble and strife flatly refusing to climb out of the car due to being cooped up with the family on the road for too long and myself and the kids generally making a nuisance of ourselves we decided to avail ourselves of the access to the wildlife park we were entitled to after forking out 80 odd bucks.

There were lots of kangaroos and rather depressed looking birds in lots of aviaries. Then there was Alby, the koala bear. Alby's enclosure was a boardwalk and hut built around a few trees in the atrium where Alby and a couple of his mates (not sure if literal) lived. There was a large sign on the door of the enclosure saying - "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TOUCH THE KOALA".
Weeeeellll, me being me; once we were inside I decided a bit of channeling Steve Irwin was needed. "Crikey!" I exclaimed, "Here's a dinky-di Koala bear. The Koala bear ladies and gentlemen leads a fairly sedentary life - choosing mainly to eat, sleep and shit." "Let's see if I can stir the old boy into a bit of life" I joked as I gently reached out to give Alby a nudge awake. What happened next was swift and taught me a few things.
1) Despite sitting in trees all day and eating gum leaves slowly, koala's can move VERY, VERY quickly.
2) Despite being herbivorous, koala's have BIG teeth and claws.

3) Koala's it seems have a much better ability to aim their urine stream than the average human male...

With a fresh bite and scratch from Alby and now soaked in his hot, foul smelling piss I had cause to reflect - if the sign says - "Don't poke the bear." then it's probably a good idea to follow instructions.

TL;DR: Old adages are old and adages for a good reason. Fail to heed them at your peril.
(Tue 7th Apr 2015, 22:25, More)

» Little Victories II

This one was a well deserved win.
I'm on my kid's school Parent's and Citizens committee. We HAD a closed-group facebook page.

Bad idea I know - at the time of it's inception everyone was happy-go-lucky and optimistic. That changed as soon as the cunts started slagging off every post on there.

It really came down to one particular woman who would leave a P&C meeting, go home, get drunk and then start gossiping to everyone about what had gone on - most of it either completely made up or grossly exaggerated. The level and amount of shit this woman (and her dopey husband) slung around was phenomenal. She was scathing and downright nasty about anyone who raised an issue at a meeting (although never to their faces) and held court with a group of mummies most afternoons at school whilst waiting for the bell to go. The stuff I heard that was said was often cringe-worthy in content and level of bullshit.

I wasn't that involved but I did cop some shit, compared with some of the things that were said about other members that she'd singled out - I got away relatively easy. I'd suggested at one point that myself and a few of the dads on the Grounds Committee could knock together a paving job that needed doing. This woman's pissed husband jumped on fb and said it would be "a half-arsed job for a half-arsed school." Seriously? Why the fuck does he have his kids at the school if that's genuinely how he feels about it? Who the fuck slags off their own kids' school on facebook to other members of that school's community?

When it came to this years AGM one of the first motions we put forward and passed (unanimously) was to shut the page down. There were quite a few of this woman's 'followers' at the meeting and as it transpired they learnt a few home truths about what she'd been saying and they finally got the other side of the story. Suffice to say a lot of them were not only apologetic but also quite pissed off with her for having lied to them. Apparently a few of them took it upon themselves to divest themselves of her friendship in a rather public way later that week at school.

I've noticed that the little court of gossip she used to hold each day outside her kid's class is somewhat... singular these days. I've also noticed she has a great deal of hardship looking quite a few people in the eyes as she walks dejectedly around school as well.

Now I like to think I'm not a vindictive or unnecessarily malicious person. But... Karma's a bitch ain't it Mel?
(Fri 27th Mar 2015, 9:54, More)

» Housemates From Hell III

Knock, knock.
I think this one does deserve a proper recount. I'll leave it to you to decide who the Housemate from Hell is.
Lived in a shared house in a swanky 'burb. House was old but well kept. I lived in a 2 room granny flat off the laundry - it was great, I could come and go as I pleased and probably had easily double the space of the guy who had the master bedroom. And my own toilet.
Recently broken up with my gf of a few years so - footloose and fancy free and sowing all the wild oats I could.
Hooked up with a semi-regular fuck - chubby girl, 8/10 face and gorgeous tits the top half of which she didn't mind showing off to the rest of the world. Oh and she loved wearing fishnets - which is kinda my Kryptonite.

Housemate asks if he can hide his gf's birthday prezzie under my bed - so she won't find it. Yeah whatever.

Bring Fishnets home. She's flashing lots of cleavage and told me over dinner at the pub that under her short skirt she's sporting her stockings and nothing else. I had to wash my hands a few times during that meal.
We've got home and I've ripped a hole in the fishnets - a kink we both found we enjoyed and I'm happily sipping from the furry cup. I hear some housemates arrive home - vaguely remember that it's someone's birthday, but meh too busy right now. Anyway - on with the show. I've turned her over and she's bent over my bed as I go to work. I'm getting there but nowhere near the vinegar strokes.

Housemate, his gf and a couple of their friends burst through my door to come and get her birthday present. They're met by the sight of me kneeling behind Fishnets, my pants around my ankles and my hirsute arse madly pumping away into her. Bent over my bed. The bed under which housemates gf's gift is hidden. "SURPRI...." he started to shout to his gf. Oh and it was.
They exited, post haste. We tidied ourselves up and I solemnly took the gift out to waiting housemate. Fishnets bailed as quickly as she could out my back door (not a euphemism) and that was that. Had many more fun times with her but strangely she always wanted to go back to hers after that.

Tl;dr: If you live in a shared house it's always a good idea to knock on your housemate's door prior to entering.
(Fri 13th Mar 2015, 23:50, More)
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