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Quickies part 2


red750

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THE DAILY LOCKDOWN NEWSLETTER

 

We are the people of a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional wanker. We come from many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand ), and although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like.

 

We are One Nation but divided into many States. First, there's Victoria , named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of cafe latte, grand final day, and big horse races. Its capital is Melbourne , whose chief marketing pitch is that "it's liveable". At least that's what they think. The rest of us think it is bloody cold and wet. 

 

Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar, thin books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its mascots are Bondi lifesavers that pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate. 

 

Down south we have Tasmania , a State based on the notion that the family that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting which the Yanks can't seem to beat, no matter how often they try. 

 

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of foreigners and bizarre axe murders. SA is the state of innovation. Where else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One drivers to sleep at the wheel. 

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did, all the men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last state to stop importing convicts and many still work there in the government and business. 

 

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep stations the size of Europe , kangaroos, Jackaroos, emus, Uluru, and dusty kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centrepiece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to flyover it on our way to Bali . 

 

And there's Queensland . While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland , as its beautiful one day and perfect the next. Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery. 

 

Oh yes and there's Canberra . The less said the better. We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better than Beijing . 

 

We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political party albeit a redneck gun toting one, can get a million votes and still not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave that to our Pommy immigrants. 

 

We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (so what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide). We love sport so much our newsreaders can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us who's winning. And we're the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby league and union, AFL, kangaroo shooting, two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, and the worst dressed Olympians in the known universe. Only in Australia can a pizza delivery get to your house faster than an ambulance. Only in Australia do we have bank doors wide open, no security guards and no cameras; but we chain the pens to the desk. 

 

Stand proud Aussies - we shoot, we root, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime. Even though we might seem a racist, closed minded, sports obsessed little people, at least we feel better for it. I am, you are, we are Australian! 

 

P.S. We also shoot and eat the two animals that are on our National Crest!!!! 

No other country has this distinction!

 

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Management strategies

The tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians, passed on from generation to
generation, says that:

When you discover that you are riding a dead horse, best strategy is to
dismount."

However, in government, more advanced strategies are often employed,
such as:

1. Buying a stronger whip.
2. Changing riders.
3. Appointing a committee of highly paid Barristers to study the horse.
4. Arranging to visit other countries to see how other cultures ride dead
horses.
5. Lowering the standards so that dead horses can be included.
6. Reclassifying the dead horse as living-impaired.
7. Hiring outside contractors to ride the dead horse.
8. Harnessing several dead horses together to increase speed.
9. Providing additional funding and/or training to increase the dead
horse's performance.
10. Hiring a firm of city consultants to complete a productivity study to
see if lighter riders would improve the dead horse's performance.
11. Consulting academics, who after much debate, declare
that as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly, carries
lower overhead and therefore contributes substantially more to the bottom
line of the economy than do some other horses.
12. Rewriting the expected performance requirements for all horses.

And of course....
13. Promoting the dead horse to a supervisory position.
 

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An Arab family was considering putting their grandfather (Abdullah) in a
nursing home.
All the Arab Facilities were completely full, so they had
to put him in an Italian home.
After a few weeks in the Italian facility, they came to visit Grandpa.

How do you like it here?"
asked the grandson.

"It's wonderful!
Everyone here is so courteous and respectful,"
said grandpa.

"We're so happy for you. We were worried that this was the wrong place
for you since you are a little different from everyone."

"Oh, no! Let me tell you about how wonderfully they treat the residents,"
Abdullah said with a big smile.

"There's a musician here - he's 85 years old.
He hasn't played the violin in 20 years, and everyone still calls him Maestro!

There is a judge in here - he's 95 years old.
He hasn't been on the bench in 30 years and everyone still calls him Your Honor.

There's a dentist here - 90 years old.
He hasn't fixed a tooth for 25 years, and everyone still calls him Doctor!

And Me - I haven't had sex for 35 years, and they still call me
The F-ing Arab. "

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  • 2 weeks later...

Or the one about the Jamaican bloke who appeared to have "Wendy" tattooed on his old fella.

 

The bloke next to him at the urinal glanced at it, and said, "Is Wendy your girlfriend?"

 

"No, mun", the Jamaican bloke replied, "It actually says, "Welcome to Jamaica, Have A Nice Day!"

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Letter from a man in Birmingham


"I was fed up with being burglarized and robbed every other day in my neighbourhood. The alarm system was no use so I tore it out and deregistered from our ineffective local Neighbourhood Watch...

Instead, I've planted a Taliban flag in each corner of my front garden.

Now, the city police, the National Security Bureau, Scotland Yard, MI-5, MI-6, the CIA and every other intelligence service in Europe are all keeping watch on my house 24x7x365...

I'm followed to and from work every day and my wife too when she goes out shopping.

So no one bothers us at all...

I've never felt safer... All thanks to the Taliban!!"
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