THE USELESSNESS OF HOPE

Burdened down by the task of seeking out gifts for our kith and kin some of us may not be that generous to others in their time of need but if we can’t give we can act.

I believe it was around this time of the year when two young people Joseph and Mary arrived in Linton to look for a place for the girl to give birth. Every room was full even at Luth’s Store and Saloon but a kindly lady allowed them to utilize the back shed with the cats and dogs while Mary went through the most painful time of her life. It may have been a miraculous start but without benefit of an epidural she would have gone through a hell of a time. You could imagine the difficulty of that glowing halo emerging.

“Hallelujah!” She cried when it was all over, “thank God for that” and the baby probably just looked up at her and gave her a knowing smile. To make matters worse three strangers sauntered into the stable where a star had guided them (maybe it was Kylie Minogue) and they thrust upon her gifts of beer, red wine and chips with gravy. That tradition of giving gifts lives on to this day, the miracle of birth may have become a ho hum everyday event but Christmas gift giving only comes around once a year.

A lack of housing also still exists and many young people, some of them unmiraculously pregnant, are forced once again to take shelter in sheds and garages. Because of this severe shortage of housing donations to charities only give them hope, nothing else, just hope for a better day ahead, as not even established religions dedicated to the baby born at Christmas can work the miracle of a permanent roof over a persons head.

In a day and age when governments spend billions on the useless gifts of war, and making cutbacks to swimming lessons for refugees, we should be pressuring them into a concerted effort to house its own citizens rather than make others homeless in another country. What good does it do our homeless for Australia to evict, with gunpowder, a family in Afghanistan? Should we not pressure our politicians to give Australia the ultimate Christmas present by declaring an end to war and thereby build all our citizens the shelter they deserve. Of course that is dependant on whether any government can get a three bedroom weatherboard built for less than $2 million a piece.

Faith, hope and charity are words just skatter-gunned around by our governing elite when its time to elect them back into power. A way forward, a growing nation, a new way and not even ‘it’s time’ achieved anything, not even ‘no child will live in poverty after 1998’ managed to pry money from the hands of greedy self-centered ideologues in the Temple of Canberra. If he were alive today I’m sure Jesus would have called for a double-dissolution.

The rich get richer while the poor get poorer and its time we began to pressure all levels of government to stop spending money on useless baubles, like fast trains, release appropriate land with appropriate infra-structure and build a future with bricks and mortar. A gift that will keep giving until the next Lord screams his way into the world.

17 THINGS ABOUT THE FESTIVE SEASON

1. How about Christmas pudding. That doggy doo-doo in custard where you dropped in a coin or two in an attempt to choke Aunt Madge to death.

2. Giving sucks to receive is divine.

3. Kris Kringle surprise gifts where the recipient guesses correctly who bought the most ridiculous present they’ve ever unwrapped.

4. Xmas Crappers — crepe paper hats, childish jokes, a bang that crackles rather than booms and a plastic toy and all this for only &6.99 each. You’d do better to make one from second hand crisps packets and the core of a toilet roll.

5. Having an undisturbed nanny nap because that reporter from the bloody Astonisher has gone on holidays.

6. If Rupert Murdoch thinks he rules Great Britain then why doesn’t he sponsor the Queens Christmas Message topless on Page Three. Maybe she could do it in tandem with Marge Simpson or Dame Edna.

7.Why not surprise the little ones by leaving one of your fresh stools on the fireplace hearth, preferably coiled, and in it a little toothpick holding a little sign that reads

‘Love from Rudolph’.

8. Remember who gave you the gift before you re-wrap it and pass it on to someone else.

9. Receiving a box of Scottish Shortbread from someone you just presented with a diamond necklace.

10. Organic free-range Turkey with aristocratic forebears, privately educated and been on at least one holiday to justify paying $45.99

11. Fun should come with some sort of agreement so you can claim a re-fun-d.

12. Even our government advisors from China celebrate ‘Chris-bah-humbug-mas’. They keep suggesting that we take up taxidermy and stuff ourselves.

13. Do you get so sick and tired of the festive music that you are forced to look around the supermarket to see if you can find a bucket of wombat snot to shove your head into?

14. That the mainstream churches have failed to capiltalise on the work of Coca Cola.

15. While thinking of snot what about those little turds running down the aisle playing with their rum pum pum.

16. We should move the time of gift-giving to the day after the Post-Christmas sales.

17. The mystery (or miracle) of tinsel and lipstick on your tool.

BAH HUMBUG………?

No…... It is not the name for the new indoor outer-space recently invented for the Linton Pub and It is not a renamed Belvedere Room either.

Who started the insane competition for companies and individuals to attempt to out-do each other in garish décor?

First it was trying to consume more electricity in fairy lights than your neighbour. Down at Yallourn they have to employ someone just to keep turning the power up and down in a tempo consistent with the blinks of 183,496,202 (seasonally adjusted) Christmas lights.

Then the surrounds of bits and pieces of motor car which are alight even during daylight hours. Then I notice they have also invaded lifts as well. Are we that starved for entertainment that we can’t even go thirty seconds without something to arouse our senses. Do we really need to be bathed in the glow of five eerie colours rotating in random order while we endeavour to accuse someone else of breaking wind in an enclosed space?

The most annoying of all is my computer mouse (which I have to use in case the donor drops in unexpectedly) which, in the form of a little Volkswagen, constantly flashes its head and tail lights. Great for working in the dark but it makes my hand look as though it’s about to detonate.

I wait with bated breath for the twinkling Christmas ties to migrate down to our under garments and change the entire meaning of the word ‘Flashing’.

JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS

WHO WILL I UPSET TODAY

By now we should have just begun to get slightly pissed off with the ever constant Crissy music accompanying our every trip to the shops. Personally if I hear one more rendition of White Christmas even if it is by f….Bing f…… Crosby I swear I’ll tear the throat out of the first Cashier that asks me if I’m ‘having a nice day’.

Is Christmas the greatest joke ever perpetrated on we innocent mortals? I’m not sure about Jesus’ sense of humour but I’m quite convinced that either Harry Potter, Batman or God are laughing their heads off watching the dollars falling into cash registers in the name of ‘good will’ towards all men whilst at the same time the Americans and the Jihadists are both blowing the heads off children instead of their poor bloody Turkeys.

But, shit, I’m caught up in this mess too. Here I am banging on about the evils of the Western Christmas while making lists of who I’m going to upset by the purchase of an absolutely useless gift. I know I’ll hear ‘Oh! that’s just what I needed’ but what I won’’t hear is ‘what the f…. did he buy this for’.

Christmas is the only time I ever have to tax my brain to actually try and please someone. For eleven months I sit at home and scheme about why and in what form I’ll set out to deliberately piss someone off but when ‘Mo’’vember comes along my priorities turn to presents and it seems to continue to spread displeasure all around me.

Quite frankly I have run out of ideas. Everyone has everything so they tell me when I ask. I’d love to know where they keep it all. So this leaves me no alternative but be imaginative.

But hang on a minute, did the Wise Men ever give presents to anyone else after that fateful night or did they run out of ideas too?

IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR OWN WINGS DON'T TRY FLYING

OK, so I’m a bit obsessive but maybe that was a good thing. Always checking and double checking things comes naturally but even the best plans come astray. I’ve even driven to Avalon to check I could get to Avalon.

On my way out for my Xmas holidays via Jetstar there was no real drama when the flight from Avalon to Sydney was delayed by 25 minutes because someone forgot to remind one of the Hostesses which flight she was supposed to be on. I thought bugger it, relax, I'm on holidays.

The travel arrangements were almost perfect and it was now time to return home. Deciding that a visit with a good friend would not go astray as I had to depart the motel at 10.00 am but my flight was not until 6.40pm. A good chat and a coffee was never a waste of time. Especially when the friends well know they can meditate my voice from their brains.

The Taxi was booked for 5.20pm, a 15 minute trip to Mascot and by 5.35pm I was walking in the entrance to Terminal 2. Step One: Get to Airport an hour before departure. Step Two: Airport procedure is to then check how flight is going. Find signs. Flight JQ625 delayed - now 7.05pm. No worries. bugger it, I'm on holidays.

 Step Three: Initial check-in electronically. Touch screen, type booking number and tick name and OK you're checked in. Get Boarding Pass and proceed to Security. Empty carry on luggage of laptop and remove trouser belt. (Learnt on flight up). Pass through machine and pack everything up.

Step Four: Turn off mobile phone so I don't forget to do it on the aircraft.

I pass down the staircase to the main level and notice with delight a Toy Shop on the right hand side, just after Security, which is supposed to protect you against explosions, with the astonishing name of KABOOM Fun Stuff for Kids.

Find Aromas Tea and Coffee Merchants at 5.50pm. Relax, Read paper. Proceed to next coffee shop closer to Gate 57 at 6.15pm. While I’m enjoying this second Coffee I hear a Tannoy announcement, cannot decipher a word they said  and then comment to the guy having coffee at the next table that 'It may as well be in Farsi' as neither of us could make out what was being said. My new not so special friend thought it said something about 'Mr.Wong was needed for the next dance” not a word could have been understood. It comes time to check flight again to see if delay is still 25 minutes or now longer.

Electronic screen indicates Flight JQ625 is Now Boarding to depart at 6.40pm. It could be wrong. Relax, bugger it, I’m on holidays but maybe I should go to Gate 57 as quick as I can just in case this indicator is actually correct.

I arrive at Gate 57 at 6.20pm only to be advised that everyone was now boarded and ready to go and basically you're stuffed. You should have been here 30 minutes before the flight. But I am here 30 minutes before the flight if it was to leave at 7.05 as indicated when I arrived.

“We did make two public announcements for you” came the reply.

I then asked if they were in English or in Farsi.

'We did try to ring you'“ they said.

I explained that I had turned my phone off to comply with the aircraft rules. OK so I’d seen those shows where you complain and get nowhere with the airline staff. So I thought 'f...k it, relax, I'm on holidays.'

Now I had to backtrack all the way to the front door and rebook on the 10.05pm flight to Avalon.

“No .. you can't leave your luggage here ..for security reasons” they said.

I mentioned it had already been through the machines. But no - I had to lug everything back the half kilometre through security to the Jetstar Counter. Explain story. Gee we're sorry. Yes we can book you on the 10.05 flight. That's $319.00 Thanks.

'What!' he says, maybe I had misheard the guy. '$319.00?'

'Yes $319.00'.

'But it was only $179.00 Return when I flew up.'

 'Well, it's $319.00 to go back'.

I quickly calculated the cost of a Taxi back to the motel, $190 for the Motel and then a taxi back the next day. That could be dearer than the next flight even at a fair price. F...k it, relax, you're screwed but your still on holiday.

The moral of the story is if you have a car then drive to where you're going. If you fly you're bound to be screwed. So cover your backside in the drivers seat and say to yourself f...k it, relax, I'm on holiday. Step Four. Send a copy to Jetstar and say 'F...k you. I'm going on a driving holiday.'

My thanks to comedian Allan Green for the concept of the story.

MARIA AND THE BABY

Hi!...is that Centrelink? ….Ok…...I'm Maria....Maria Ave ….My man and I was wandering if we could get more dough from ya. Cause now I got a kid …………. My story? ……. Well.

Well, you see I'm.......like ...still a virgin yeah?......and like Joe and I spent the night... get this ....get this.... in a garage........a garage yeah! .... and like.... it was real smelly.......Yeah like the Pub was a mess yeah, all full of drunks ... and like loose women popping in and out of the bedrooms...... so I'm thinking I'm not a loose woman like them, well...not quiet as loose anyway, you hear what I'm saying.

So they said if you want a kip then you better use the garage right. They're right quiet for sleeping  yeah …. except for the farting of the ass. They said me and Joe can kip in the straw. Then all the locals in the bar … they insulted me ….. Oooooooh! What a fat belly you got there honey they said. I was pissed off and just gave them the finger….just like that.

But we ain't done it you know....Joe...like he can't get it up....so we ain't done it yet...you hear what I'm sayin, Well that's what Joe thinks anyway....He don't know it but I done it wif the Dairy fella down at Rokewood.

I met Joe a few months later...he was giving us a amazing technicolour yawn outside the Railway Hotel… right?.... he was barfing up everywhere......like....gross? But I still fell in love with him ....the ninth time this year yeah....I fell in love ... like real love yeah ...the kind that'll last for months....

Well I thought I just had a bad case of the wind. The baby … yes a baby I tell ya …..it just popped out....just like that...all pink and wrinkled, but....get this....it kinder glowed...yeah Here what I'm saying ...it glowed.

Joe wanted to call him 'Edam' like God's first effort at producing something with a penis. Mum would want to call him Cecil and Dad likes the name Bruce. Then Joe popped up with the name Cheeses! Cheeses? I hit him one...I did...planted one right on Joe's forehead with me fist.....did he look surprised or what? Maybe he guessed the seeds didn’t come from Monsanto.

You can’t name things I said. Don't you remember you're a dumb ass .....you stupid boy.......the first thing you told me was you believed in 'Dog' right.....dog?........so your not doing any naming around here. Anyway Joe persuaded me that it should stay at Cheeses and that's how its going to stay, do you know I still got that black eye….eh!

Cheeses?... what sort of name is that? ....Joe your a spaz I told him. Fancy having to go through life with a name like that. So hows I doin’. You got enough information for getting me some more dole money?

Witnesses? You want witnesses? Well…..

Now get this …into the garage burst these three guys in fancy dress …. We find out later they’d just escaped from an insane asylum all suffering from ’grand illusions’ or something like that. They was thinking themselves to be three kings .... three wise men....three magi .... from the East. yeah....like where the sun sets. Genghis Kahn, Emperor Xi and a little fat guy who called himself Chairman Mao? Like they had these three daggy gifts they brung from China right. Real cheap crap.

The first looked like a box of marijuana resin he called 'Frankincense' or some shit like that. The second idiot ... he had like... a jar of honey.....he reckoned it was 'Mer' I think he said anyway....... don't stop me now .....right . Well this silly prick had a jar of honey didn't he....Duh! Well the third guy took the cake.

He was the worst nutter of them all, he had a spiff bag wif gold dust init right....but it weren't gold dust were it...it was Gold Xmas Card glitter...... gold glitter! .... what a twat he was. So there was my baby surrounded by resin, honey and xmas glitter....like...sad it was......It looked more like something out of a book by the Brothers Grimm.

In fact someone is writing a book about it. They like took all these unfounded allegations called Testaments..... just like you make with the pigs before they take you to court..........you follow?..... Testamenting in the witness box.

Well they copied all of these testaments.....from the witnesses like.....in a ‘Holly Bibble' or summit like that. The Holly bit ....I think means.... that when you get married they hold the book over your head and you kiss for the first time. Just like the Holly you hang over the front door so  you can get to suck on the face of everyone who comes through the door....right

So this Bibble has all these Testaments in it, but instead of Chapters they called them 'Books' and told the same story over and over ....... like .... according to someone else....... it was like several witnesses telling different stories about the same car accident .... right...you follow?

Like there's Peter and Paul and Mary in this book ...so I'm told, except they're three guys right, like few people know that yeah....like my Mum told me that Mary used to be Max Magdalene...... before he had his thingy cut off and a coin slot inserted in its place. So the Bibble doesn't talk about Peter, Paul and Max...you hear what I'm saying. Didn’t they right a song about poofs and a  magic dragon?

So this book is like something a lot of people read...but I'm not into reading.. yeah....I'm like into iPods and things so I'm going to wait for the MP3 version to find out what they're saying about me...right....and if it ain't right I gonna sue their asses off.....you hear what I'm saying.

I’m sick of bangin’ on about Cheeses for today. Just tell me if I got the extra money or not….. I really need it … my dru…, my friend wants to give him some money for summit I bought from him like ...a week ago.

But that’s not the end of the story. Maybe in thirty-three years I’ll ring you again and spin you the yarn of how Cheeses went and learned flyin’ and how the Pilots took Cheeses off to Kings Cross and we never saw for him three days.

So I’ll end here by wishin’ ya all, on behalf of Joe and Cheeses, Mao, Xi and Khan, and  everyone at Centrelink a Happy New Year and that goes for all you irreligious bastards at the Railway Hotel too.

Maria Ave

HEY SCROOGE! IT'S CHRISTMAS

OR
‘How to shorten the Checkout queue.”

This is the time of year when the shops start getting crowded and you are nowhere near the end of your Christmas shopping list. Everywhere you go there are lines, queues, numbered tickets or sales clerks lazily checking out their hair if their a girl or sorting out their crutch if their a boy.

Here is a hint about how to get through the checkout quicker, or even how to get them to provide you with services before anyone else. It has everything to do with the right music. Christmas music, music with tinkling things and ringing things.

It works best with a basket, not so well with a trolley. First approach the checkout and select the shortest queue if there is one. Maybe 15 people or less.

Stand in the shop where you can be clearly seen. At home you might want to go to the bedroom alone to rehearse this as you read it.

Stand straight at first clutching your shopping basket in the left hand. Now, lower the basket almost to the floor, this will give you a slight forward lean. Tuck your right arm to your chest as though you were holding a bottle of milk in your armpit or maybe pretend your doing the chicken dance.

Next raise your face toward the people in the queue in front of you. Twist your mouth to one side and start dribbling. Make sure you have a well-hunched back.

Now for the ‘piece-de-resistance’ slowly, almost like a whisper and repeating the mantra each time getting louder, let the saliva drip from your lips while at the same time crying out demonically ‘the bells, the bells, the bloody bells’

Now as you shuffle your way towards the cashier, it’s amazing how quickly people will stand aside for you and let you get through the checkout process in record time.

If you have a trolley you need to vary the shuffle to include pushing it along with your knuckles or kicking it forward with your foot.

With appropriate music it will also work a treat at Centrelink or your Bank. It is however NOT recommended to do it anywhere that disability or mental services are provided.

MAY WE WISH ALL OUR READERS A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A JOYOUS NEW YEAR.

WITH ALL OUR LOVE

Maxine Suffolk, Robert Le Billdeux, Mary, Betty and Butch Lamb, Casserole, Roast, Kebab, Panchen and Dali.

PLEASE EXPLAIN

The Arabs who demonstrate against the west and want to destroy America -

WEARING GAP T-SHIRTS AND NIKE TRAINERS

So called Australians complaining about how many Chinese there are -

WHILE EATING TAKE-AWAY SWEET AND SOUR CHICKEN

Why do signs in the back of cars that say ‘Baby On Board’ not add the words -

AND SAFELY NAILED TO IT

THIS MONTHS STUPID IDEA

Why don’t we install speed limiters on cars for certain drivers rather than put speed limits on all cars.

For example-
Red P – Engines limited to 80K/hr
Green P – Engines limited to 100K/hr
If the maximum speed in any state is 110K/hr then why not have limiters on all cars to 140 K/h. I suggest the extra 30Kph so that the Police can still raise some revenue from motorists exceeding the speed limits.

Maybe to slow people down and visit lovely Linton that between the Police Station and the Post Office we have a speed limit of 3Kmh. That would be slow enough for the Grocer to employ someone to sell goodies literally door to door and save the Pub putting in a drive-through Bottle Shop.

THIS MONTHS SOMEONE ELSE SAID

“TITLES ARE TINSEL, POWER A CORRUPTOR, GLORY A BUBBLE AND EXCESSIVE WEALTH A LIBEL ON ITS POSSESSOR.”

Percy Byshe Shelley, Declaration of Rights, 1812.