SMELLY TONGUES

Beyond the soft palate

Tag: Queensland

LAST BURGERS

You know you’re on the road to recovery after a week and a half of gastro when you find yourself pleasantly overcome by a craving for a juicy hamburger with cheese and bacon and beetroot and lettuce and tomato and grease. Yes, please.

You are then sadly reminded – once more – that you live in Queensland when you wander down the local kebab and burger joint at 8.30 on a Friday night to order one, only to be told, “Oh, sorry mate. We close the burgers at six.”

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DICKTATORHEAD

Now …

Federal education minister Peter Garrett has been banned from visiting Queensland schools, with the Newman government saying it will not allow kids to be used as “props in a political campaign”.

On Tuesday night, however, the office of Queensland Education Minister John-Paul Langbroek sent Mr Garrett an email informing him he was not welcome at the two schools.

It is the latest salvo in a bitter dispute sparked by Queensland’s refusal to sign up to the federal government’s school funding reforms.

Queensland insists some of its schools will be worse off under the Gonski plan.

A spokeswoman for Mr Langbroek said the decision was made after Ms Gillard visited a primary school in Bracken Ridge and ‘‘did nothing but criticise the government’’.

‘‘We have had enough of Queensland schoolchildren being used by the Federal Government as props in a political campaign,’’ she said.

‘‘We will not allow Queensland schools to be the venue for the Gonski media roadshow. If the federal minister wants to come to Queensland and discuss Gonski, he is welcome to make time to meet Minister Langbroek.’’

Previously …

SCHOOL students will be asked to learn about Campbell Newman‘s Queensland Plan in a move the union says squeezes an already crowded curriculum.

In a letter to all MPs obtained by The Courier-Mail, the Premier has revealed how his Government’s 30-year vision for the state would become a study topic for students.

In-class activities, including lesson plans and contests, will be introduced to ensure the plan is seen by more than just politicians and public servants.

Teachers have questioned whether there is enough room in the curriculum to allow time for Queensland Plan lessons and whether teaching a document produced by a government is appropriate.

However, Education Minister John-Paul Langbroek yesterday insisted the initiative was no different to the former Bligh government involving students in Queensland’s 150th anniversary celebrations.

Campbell Newman, Mr. DicktatorHead.

Hypocrite doesn’t quite cut it.

YOU OWE JIM WALLACE AN APOLOGY

Jim Wallace, Managing Director of The Australian Christian Lobby is outraged today that his recent comments suggesting a homosexual ”lifestyle” was more hazardous to health than smoking have been grievously misconstrued and misrepresented by media and gay activists to mean a homosexual ”lifestyle” was more hazardous to health than smoking.

What Mr. Wallace was trying to make clear was that heterosexuality and homosexuality are very, very different – one is like a rainbow, and the other is more of a starfish with spotty bits – and they shouldn’t be put in the same package together because there isn’t enough room and they don’t get on.

Perfectly clear, really.

WHY I DIDN’T VOTE …

… in the Brisbane Local Government elections in April, for which I shall be fined $50.00 if my reason is not found to be a valid one …

“Dear Electoral Commission,

I am single, employed, have no children, and rent a flat. Each week I take the garbage bin out, and bring it back in, and this has been my sole engagement with local government over these last seven years, and so far, it’s all worked out just dandy. I deliberately chose not to vote because I did not want to be the one butterfly that might flap its wings in Brazil and bugger up the weather for everyone in Florida, so to speak.

Keep up the fine work.

Kind Regards,
Ross Sharp

ISN’T IT ROMANTIC?

QUEENSLAND RELATIONSHIP REGISTER

Office Hours: Monday to Friday 10.00am – 4.30pm. 

Please take a ticket and queue here to register your relationship.

Please have your Relationship Registration forms ready for processing when your number is called.

If you are renewing your relationship, then you need only apply for a Registration Renewal docket. Registration Renewal dockets can be applied for online at www.secondclasscitizen.qld.gov.au.

Registration of your relationship shall confer upon all registered parties acknowledgment by the Queensland State Government that a relationship has been entered into by said parties and that said relationship has now been recorded as a Registered Relationship in the Queensland State Relationship Register.

Payment for registration can be made by Eftpos, Visa and Mastercard. We do not accept American Express.

Have a nice day.

BABY, BABY, BABY, OH!

One whole dollar a week!!!?!#@%$$!!!!!!! …

We’ll all be ROONED!

The chorus of outraged squeals that has accompanied this announcement has been so pants-wettingly hysterical, I’m beginning to think a more apt choice for a new Australian flag right now just might be a soiled nappy.

Run that up a flagpole and see who salutes.

REASONS TO BE CHEERFUL, PART 2

I live up the hill from here.

I think I should upgrade my technology somewhat. You can’t take a photo with a 12 year old mobile phone.

And maybe I’ll get myself a thingy at home for wirelessing with these tubes, too.

I’ll ask Gerry Harvey for some advi …

Nah, fuck it.

HARDSHIP, SUFFERING & EXTREME DEPRIVATION

It’s 24 degrees in Brisbane today.

In July.

It’s been a hard, grueling winter this year (all three weeks of it), but that hardy Aussie spirit, that thing that nurtured the ANZACS through their myriad trials and tribulations, has seen us bravely struggle through, and persevere once more.

Why, one day, the temperature almost plummeted below 18 degrees!

I’m buggered if I know how we managed that one.

FRIDAY’S TONGUES

A couple of recent posts from Tongue at Groupthink, The Illustrated Guide to Tony Abbott, and some thoughts on the Australian Christian Lobby, surrogacy and the absurd assumptions that gay couples or singles are not fit to raise a child.

I posted the latter yesterday afternoon, but overnight the Queensland State Government ignored the bleatings of the stupid and decided to decriminalise altruistic surrogacy. So much for the rednecks. The Opposition’s argument against appeared to revolve mostly around public toilets, pets and women with careers. Deep they are not.

In other news, over in Hamerica, Teabaggers are ticked off about being bagged in a Captain America comic book. Even though the signs in the panel are drawn from life, the nutbaggers say it’s all too “juvenile” and should be withdrawn. Marvel, unfortunately and much to their shame, has complied.

But as one commenter remarked re the “juvenile” tag, “It IS a comic book”.

Speaking of comic books, A.O. Scott of the New York Times had this to say about the recently released remake of “The Wolfman” …

“The climactic showdown resembles an extreme-fighting cage match conducted by a pair of rabid Wookies.”

… and I laughed.

REPEAT AFTER ME

There is no debate

AUSTRALIANS in general, and Queenslanders in particular, hold liberal views on abortion, yet politicians’ fear of small religious minorities appears to have stymied decriminalisation of the procedure in some states, a study shows.

The debate is over.

A clear majority of Australians – 57 per cent – support women’s right to obtain an abortion “readily when they want one”. One-third supports abortion “in special circumstances”, and only 4 per cent opposes abortion outright. The findings, from the Australian Election Study, are based on polling 1873 electors at the 2007 federal election. They reveal how Australians’ attitudes have become much more liberal since the same questions were put to voters 20 years earlier, when only 38 per cent agreed with women’s unfettered right to abortion.

The debate is done.

Queenslanders are even more pro-choice than Australians as a whole, and the residents of Brisbane, with 63 per cent support for unrestricted access to abortion, the most liberal in the country.

There is no debate.

A Queensland Labor MP told journalists: “Liberalising abortion laws is not a vote-winner, it’s actually a vote loser, and everyone on both sides of politics knows that.”

The debate is over.

But the author of the study, Katharine Betts, an adjunct associate professor of sociology at Swinburne University, said the politician was wrong.

The debate is done.

“Abortion is one of those issues that doesn’t fit neatly into a left versus right continuum, and politicians feel it’s dangerous to try to change the status quo in the face of a very vocal anti-choice lobby. But they’re wrong. Voters are more likely to vote for a pro-choice candidate than an anti-choice candidate.”

THERE. IS. NO. DEBATE.

The closing date of the petition to decriminalise abortion in Queensland is 23/10/09. Queensland residents only.

NO REGRETS

I coulda been a daddy.

I was 20, the girl was 22, she had a two and a half year old kid from a previous relationship, was on the pill, but I still managed to knock her up regardless.

I didn’t smoke back then, didn’t drink much, no drugs, so I must’ve been a potent little fucker. Turned out she needed a higher dosage of baby blockers to put the pop to the ambitions of my tadpoles so she got those and terminated the pregnancy about a week after she found out.

And that was that.

I got no regrets. I had nothing to say in the matter. Not a word. Decision was the girl’s.

We’d only been going out a few months and I reckon both us felt that what we had was not one of those goo-eyed romances that would span the ages leaving a legend of love in its wake to inspire future generations and give rise to multi-volume memoirs and a series of film adaptations. I don’t think she felt that. This girl knew a few things about life that I didn’t.

And she did not to want to have another baby.

Okay.

“I’ll go with you. To the clinic.”

“No, it’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up then. After.”

“No. I’ll see you at home tonight.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Not something she was looking forward to. Obviously. Not really something she wanted to talk about, either. After it was done, she came home, hurt, vulnerable, shaken up.

Invaded.

Not a thing that had been done with the callous, carefree attitude of some thick, unfeeling bint, like the removal of a wart or a mole. At least, according to some.

She did not want to have another baby.

She’d been raped by her stepfather when she was twelve years old, and not long after, she told her mum about it who promptly slapped her over the face, called her a lying slut and threw her and her sister out of the house, don’t come back, cunts. Her sister had been raped too. By the same. She was older by a few years.

They went down southern New South Wales, made friends with a few people, shared a big old house, and she wound up hooking into smack for a couple of years, and at 19 she had a boyfriend and a baby on the way. When she found out she was pregnant, she swung off the drugs and told the boyfriend to take a long hike in the woods when he began beating on her, culminating in him pushing her out of a moving car at 40 miles per hour when she was seven months pregnant.

Nice guy.

She did not want to have another baby.

I guess some of that, maybe, some of that, might be down to a person not wanting to have her entire life up to that point and for God only knows how much longer to be solely defined by the fucks she’d been subject to and their consequences.

You think?

We broke up a few months later. And not because of that. As one of her friends told me at the time, this girl was no waltzing-down-the-aisle, white frock and confetti type looking for some Prince Sappy Charming to settle her down and whisk her off to White Picket Fenceland. She weren’t no common idiot slut either, not one of those gravel-voiced, inarticulate, barely literate lard-lumps with faces like a punnet of pummeled strawberries from Ipswich or similar that screech their way through items on those jokes that pass for “current affairs” television on free-to-air.

She read books, liked movies, listened to good music (none of this Cold Chisel & Angels  crap that was around at the time), spoke well, was attractive and she loved the son she already had. Loved him a lot.

But, at only 22 years of age, one was enough.

She did not want to have another baby.

After so much shit, what she’d been through up to that point, maybe she wanted to own her life some, not have it owned by anyone else. Own her life, and get down to living it well while she still could. To her own rules, to her own priorities, to set some goals and reach them instead of being smacked down time and time again to some banal life of zombie domesticity in service to a brood of young ones swinging off her teats forever and a day, screeching and howling and asking for stuff she couldn’t afford to provide, and some so-called “man of the house” yelling for his fucking dinner and some clean socks for work tomorrow.

Fair enough, too.

But up here in Brisbane? Up here in Beantown, Queensland Australia, it’s 1959 all over again, one-tooth crotch-fiddlin’ yokels and fuckwit hayseeds hollering at a young woman and a young man because they too want to own a little of their lives first and figure a few things out about them before they settle down to making those “big” decisions, those big decisions that may go right, that may go wrong, but they’d like to make them for themselves and that’s what they did.

Girl took a pill, that’s all. Just fine her some money for bringing it in if you’re so fucking desperate to satisfy the requirements of your shitty “law” and leave it alone.

But, no. Instead, take a chunk of their young lives, take quite a chunk of it away from them, lock ‘em up and teach ‘em a thing or two about the so-called “sanctity of life”, so say the Peanuts and Pimps of Power and Press.

Put ‘em on show, put on ‘em display, make an example of ‘em, here be the self-anointed judges and juries of the great unwashed from this city of flyblown halfwits blowing anonymous brainfarts on lame-arse blogs about how this young couple shoulda done this and should not have done that, should’ve done what they were told by people they didn’t even know existed ‘til now. Sanctimonious, self-serving, self-righteous cheese-faced fuckers preaching high and mighty sermons from their over-stuffed sofas about the fucking “sanctity of life”?

Sanctity of life, my hairy arse. That “Thou shalt not kill” thing’s been working well the last few centuries, you think?

Fuck your stinkin’ law and shove your stinkin’ badges.

Listen to this cockhead, some “who the fuck?” politician from South Australia …

“A quick flick through some of the side effects of RU-486 makes for sober reading. These range from stomach cramps, through nausea, vomiting to ectopic pregnancies and severe internal bleeding.” 

Uh-huh …

… Now, this other girl I knew, years later, she wasn’t too keen on the contraceptive pill (or rubbers either, said they felt all wrong, and I was very much in agreement with that point of view, let me tell you ) so we went about it another way. Rhythms and such.

We knew it was a risk. We took it.

This girl was raised a Catholic, and even though she didn’t practice except for Christmas Mass, she told me when we started going out that she didn’t think she could ever go through an abortion if she got pregnant.

Okay.

There’s no tattoo on your arse saying “Property of” and there’s none on mine either. So we went on like that for a time, but after a while she got sick of the way we were going about things, and thought the pill might simplify the business.

Few days later, she complained of feeling lethargic, bloated, fuzzy-headed and generally fucked up, so I sat down and looked at that sheet of paper in the packet of pills that list the contra-indications and possible side-effects …

“Jesus Christ!”, I exclaimed, “I wouldn’t take this shit, why should you?” 

And that was the end of that.

She never got pregnant. Even though we were at it like bloody rabbits most of the time.

And if things had come to pass (so to speak) that she had?

I would’ve shat myself and spent the next nine months in a state of frenzied anxiety, but there’s no way I would’ve even dared suggest she do something with her body that she did not want to do.

Like I said, no “Property of” tattoo.

Here’s whatshisname again …

“I am not trying to tell women what to do with their bodies. I am asking women not to kill another human being and I am asking you as a reader to think about when human life actually starts.”

Yeah … and I’m not a racist, but them foreign niggers and towelheads are gettin’ to be a fuckin’ worry, you think?

Pftttht.

Starts out, seems he wants to talk about the side-effects of this drug, ends up just another in a long line of predictable anti-choice bollocks about the evil, murderin’ ways of loose and wicked women.

(Man was once a “rouseabout”. The fuck is a “rouseabout”? What you rousin’ there, boy? You best leave that thing alone yo, lest it haul up and bite you on the ass, you feel me?**)

No body is property.

Not yours. No one else’s.

Tegan Leach’s body belongs to her.

Get the fuck away from it and leave the girl be, goddammit. 

 

 

**I’ve changed. Refer “Housekeeping 3”. I’m gonna calm the fuck down now and chill with some tunes.

UPDATE: Michelle blows the smoke from Kenyon’s fundamentalist fuckwittery here.

UPDATE: If you are a resident of Queensland, and eligible to participate, and opposed to these stupid fucking laws, sign this petition and sign it now. (Hat tip to OzPolitik)