The Continuing Adventures Of Your Own Personal Jesus

Next time someone says, “I’ve seen everything,” punch them in the face. Hard. And more than once. Then say, "My dear friend, you, sir, are a goddamned liar." Because they haven’t. Far from it. So stick with me here, this won’t take long at all. In my current occupation as a spoon I’m always on the look out for things to avoid. Things to avoid, for me, generally take the form of serious conflict, angry people and especially those who appear to be seriously unbalanced. And, as a spoon, I am now very attuned to these people, can spot them a mile off and am able to neatly side-step out of danger’s way and scurry off to whatever corner of the world I’m allowed to exist in this week. Case in point: I decided to break my diet and try the new place on a street well known for violence and oddball characters. Well, the place isn’t well known for violence (other than the standard Saturday night/Sunday morning crowd), it’s better known as a place that sells deep fried food whi...

The Melbourne Cup should no longer be billed as "The Race That Stops A Nation", if we were to be totally accurate then it should be, "The Race That Ensures All Productivity Ceases For At Least A Day And A Half, Depending On Who Wins, Who Gets Drunkest And Who Scores In The Filing Closet." Back in the day, and I mean when Moses was a lad, the Melbourne Cup was the premier horse racing event on the Australian sporting calendar. Now it’s the premier racing event on the social calendar. You tell me what went wrong because I have no idea. I think when someone dragged Jean ‘The Shrimp’ Shrimpton to the event and allowed her to show off her long legs and tight buns it all went tits up. Certainly by the time Susan Renauf-Peacock-Sangster-Alphabet graced the event and Sir John Kerr gave one of the more fondly remembered of all drunken speeches (along the lines of “Blaarrgghhhh tha’ fuggin’ Gough fuggin' Whitlam and that fuggin' caaannnttt, Malcolm, don't fugg...

Helloooo! I’m back!! Missed me? Oh, please, you’ll make me blush darlings! So, you think you have it bad? You ain’t got shit! Seriously. Doing the rounds at the moment is this email purporting to be the ‘new’ email rules of a major department (can’t say which one it is, but I’m glad I’m not stuck there). At first I thought it was another one of those joke emails, but was told that, no, it's deadly serious and about to go into effect immediately. I did a bit of digging and it appears that the person who has come up with these rules isn’t fond of emails and firmly believes that emails are an utter waste of productivity. Naturally the staff disagree in private, but when pushed have to display the best qualities of sycophants and automatically agree, same as lemmings when push comes to leaping off cliffs. Using the net to its utmost effectiveness and working in the Government aren’t always easy. Earlier this year I was part of a huge seminar to discuss the various aspects of ...