Politics 🤐

I would never say a truer word spoken – it has also happened here! Change America for Australia, change the names to the local left wing lunatics (Canberra political population), and there you have our own fortunes in a couple of paragraphs. Bushy (SA)


“Time is like a river. You cannot touch the water twice, because the flow that has passed will never pass again.”

Franklin Graham was speaking at the First Baptist Church in
Jacksonville, Florida, when he said America will not come back.

He wrote:
“The American dream ended on November 6th, 2012. The second term of Barack Obama has been the final nail in the coffin for the legacy of the white Christian males who discovered, explored, pioneered, settled and developed the greatest republic in the history of mankind.

A coalition of blacks, Latinos, feminists, gays, government, workers,
union members, environmental extremists, the media, Hollywood,
uninformed young people, the “forever needy,” the chronically
unemployed, illegal aliens and other “fellow travelers” have ended
Norman Rockwell’s America.

You will never again out-vote these people. It will take individual
acts of defiance and massive displays of civil disobedience to get
back the rights we have allowed them to take away. It will take zealots, not moderates and shy, not reach-across-the-aisle RINOs
(Republicans In Name Only) to right this ship and restore our beloved
country to its former status.

People like me are completely politically irrelevant, and I will
probably never again be able to legally comment on or concern myself with the aforementioned coalition which has surrendered our culture, our heritage and our traditions without a shot being fired.

The Cocker spaniel is off the front porch, the pit bull is in the back
yard, the American Constitution has been replaced with Saul Alinsky’s
“Rules for Radicals” and the likes of Chicago shyster David Axelrod
along with international socialist George Soros have been pulling the
strings on their beige puppet and have brought us Act 2 of the New
World Order.

The curtain will come down but the damage has been done, the story has been told.

Those who come after us will once again have to risk their lives,
their fortunes and their sacred honor to bring back the Republic that this generation has timidly frittered away due to white guilt and political correctness.”

Love your enemy; it will ruin his reputation ~ Desmond Tutu ~

Forgiving and being reconciled to our enemies or our loved ones are not about pretending that things are other than they are. It is not about patting one another on the back and turning a blind eye to the wrong. True reconciliation exposes the awfulness, the abuse, the hurt, the truth. It could even sometimes make things worse. It is a risky undertaking but in the end it is worthwhile, because in the end only an honest confrontation with reality can bring real healing. Superficial reconciliation can bring only superficial healing.

Desmond Tutu

Love your enemy; it will ruin his reputation.

Desmond Tutu




After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits.
Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus’s birthday as a bit if a treat.
I ordered it well in advance and working in the North Sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types…Oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was.
I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn’ have long to wait.
At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head.
Religion hadn’t featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the the destruction of the meat and two veg.
Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen, by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.
I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, toe the lid off and positioned it under me.
The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn’nt managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.
I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse.
This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.
This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.
The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before. Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering arhhh ooooohhh that feels good ahhh Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn’nt heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.
I can understand that having a sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn’t the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn’t improve my status so to sum it up, VEET removes hair, dignity and self-respect.


“MONSTERS, INC.!” a poem a.k.a.: “SOUND MONSTER ADVICE?!” a.k.a.: ” Living Among And Trying To Love And Forgive All The Monsters!” February 21, 2019 (Thursday) dedicated to: a scared & uncertain & kooky Monster President called Donald J. Trump, who needs every monster’s Love and prayers, so he can overcome his fear, angst, conditioning & hatred & recognize himself in the monsters around him, i.e.: us!

MONSTERS! they-are all around us! They’re-in-our-Hearts – and-in-our-“souls!”
Hun – grrr-y – and-lonesome-SCARED! with lots of hopes and lots o’goals!
They’ll eat-us-up-and-scare-us-to-death, unless we have-“A LOVING STANCE,”
To-befriend-them, but-they’ll-still (pause) look-at-us yes US! askance,
Because we’ve tortured and abused-them, and-they-don’t-know really why,
We can’t accept them (sorta) kindly! and-look-them in the monster eye,
And remind them: YES, things happen! that-BAD-THINGS-HAPPEN, fairly often,
In this scary “Sphere of Sorrows,” and who-knows when-a-waiting-coffin,
Will-capture us and take us “Home,” like-a space craft long disheveled!
I KNOW BAD THINGS HAPPEN, Monsters, and we all seem quite be-deviled,
And bedazzled – by the seeming – complex-and-impossible -odds-at-hand!
This-place-we’re-at, it is so scary! But-is-it-not ? “The-Promised-Land?”
Where-we-can-get a bite to eat, and-PERHAPS – we’ll make us friends among,
The seeming strangers we encounter, who-seek to hurt-and-cut-out-our-tongue!?

“BAD THINGS HAPPEN!” Tell all monster, but remind them too that-they,
STILL – CAN hope and love and LIVE – to see ANOTHER KIND OF DAY!!!!
One on which, PERHAPS-their-lives might turn around! YES, TAKE A TURN,
In this SPHERE OF SORROWS, my-Love; these-things HOPE-FU-LLY we’ll-learn:
That BAD THINGS HAPPEN, but-you-can-live – whatever living means to you;
That-you-can-PERHAPS, perhaps-LET-LIVE – OTHERS! That! perhaps-we’ll-do,
TO LIVE – despite (that) we’re-SCARED-TO-DEATH of horrid things that might befall,
US! Yes! All-of-us, Dear Monsters! [Shall we] Cooperate!? with-love-for-ALL!

Silly poems (like this) get written, and silly, scary movies tell,
Of how we might live life together – in THIS PLACE we might call: HELL,
In-habited – with many monsters – who-are-QUITE-PRETTY, if-we-will-stop,
And look them kindly in the eyes, to-remind-them that-we all-might-opt,
To COOPERATE-and-GRADUATE from this school of fear and sorrow,
PERHAPS-we-still-can-live-together – to see a hopeful, kind tomorrow!
But THE ONLY WAY I think we have – is-to-understand WE ALL ARE SPOOKY,
BIG and scary, scared and lonely – unsure of life – and Pretty Kooky!
Yet, WE CAN LIVE, yes, we can live – whatever that term really means!
THAT’S ALL WE’VE GOT! Shall-we-try-and-do-IT? MONSTERS ALL,

🙂 – Overcoming fear with love, one monster at a time!

fin <3