The cluster fuck that is trying to get broadband in outer Melbourne

For just $19 a week, Ernest can get ADSL with 5gb download, unlike the poor cunts in the outer suburbs of Melbourne.

I moved house recently and figured that being sent to jail is easier. You don’t have to lift a finger when you go to jail, unless of course some Tongan giant named Gus wants you to digitally penetrate him.

I digress. Moving house sucks shit. Four football ovals worth of PNG rainforest was cleared to make the stack of cardboard boxes in my garage. But that’s small hassle compared to having to deal with every cunt who provides you with your essential services.

I won’t go on about my electricity being connected a day late, that’s old news and I’m over it, but I tell you now, everyone who works at Tru Energy and their families and friends can go and and eat shit and die as far as I’m concerned.

Then there’s Telstra, who connected me on time but then charged me the connection fee for a new dwelling, rather than an existing home – a couple of hundred bucks’ difference. I made a call to correct this error and was told the department that handles this is “not open today” and to leave my number. No cunt has called me. I’m sure the department that will call me when the bill I refuse to pay is overdue is always open. Fuckers!

But the most frustrating thing about all this is trying to get broadband connected. I have posted before about the third-world broadband conditions that exist in outer Melbourne. Optus, bless them, the Singapore-owned cunts, wouldn’t transfer my Optusnet Broadband because I don’t have an Optus phone account. Fuck Optus.

Thinking my only hope to get a broadband connection was to go with Telstra who own the phone lines and broadband nodes and obviously have a relationship with the ACCC that sees Graham Samuel turn up for weekly anal sex over a fucking barrel, I bit the bullet and applied for Telstra Bigpond broadband, with the added incentive of having it half price because I have a landline and mobile phone account with the national telco. Like Graham Samuel I am their arse slave.

First signs were good. An email from Bigpond confirming my application for ADSL2. Then nothing. When I called Telstra about the bullshit connection fee mentioned above, the lovely lass in Darwin checked my Bigpond application and said there were “several errors” which she said she fixed. I had to wait another 10 working days for confirmation – what errors? How hard is it?

Then 10 working days later I get an SMS to call Bigpond, which I did only to be told I can’t get ADSL2 in my area. Fair enough I said, “give me ADSL1″.

“You’ll have to reapply,” Margaret in Perth told me. Knowing that it’s futile to ask why anymore, I reapplied on the spot and was told to expect a new modem in the post within the magic 10 working days – which sounds a lot less than two weeks.

What I got instead was a letter saying “Unfortunately, our tests have indicated that Bigpond Broadband ADSL is not currently available on (03) XXXX XXXX. If you have another telephone on that premises, ADSL technology may be available on that number.

HOW? WHY? WHAT’S THE FUCKING DIFFERENCE?

This is fucking extortion! Do they expect me to fork out more money on a second phone just to get a service these cunts are too fucking useless to provide to a phone that’s less than a kilometre away from old house that had perfect ADSL access? Like fuck!

Then they rub it in by telling me about the other services available like Bigpond Broadband Cable – yeah fuck off!. Telstra decided it couldn’t be fucked rolling out fibre-optic cable in a brand new suburb while all the pipes were going in. If I had cable do you think I’d be wasting a month of my fucking life trying to get ADS-fucking hell?

This is a severely fucked up state of affairs. Imagine I had a small business or wanted to run a porn server. Fuck, what if I want to watch porn?

I blame that fucked up, little, bald, four-eyed, snivelling, racist, cricket tragic, cunt John Howard for this – the fucking bushy-eyebrowed, spawn of Satan, fuck-monkey shit head.

What shits me is I can’t get broadband by normal means, so I have to fork out more for wireless broadband or heaven forbid satellite broadband, which costs more than snorting cocaine off the right arse-cheek of a high-rent New York prostitute.

Am I eligible for a subsidy for these more expensive forms of broadband because the normal means are not available to me? Am I fuck! I would if I was a farmer though.

Farmers, fucking farmers, always fucking farmers get everything. Steve “God-bothering Cunt” Fielding blocked the luxury car tax not because it may have affected families who may have wanted to buy a safe, fuel efficient car, but because of farmers who want a fucking top of the range Toyota Land Cruiser with leather seats, cruise control, GPS and in-seat DV-fucking-D from which to chuck hay at sheep. No mention of the family man who needs an expensive vehicle to ply his trade – no, like every other shit sack in Canberra he jumps on the rural bandwagon to suck the cock of whingeing farmers who get everything handed to them on silver cunt-soaked platter.

Next time a farmer whinges because Coles and Woolworths made him use their fruit crates, forced him pay for transport and demanded they fuck his wife, tell him to get in his luxury four-wheel drive and fuck off, along with those anti-pipeline and anti-desalination-plant cunts. I’ve enough of you all, you country bastards.

So here I am on dial-up, waiting 10 minutes for Facebook to load just to see what shitful application my so-called friends demand I join. The Age web site takes ages to load its ads and Redtube is definitely out of the fucking question.

My life is shit and it’s all Telstra’s fault.

How the mighty have turned into a bunch of nitpicking arseholes

The Liberals have gone to town on Prime Minister Kevin Rudd for employing a personal assistant who travels with him and a housekeeper at The Lodge whose duties include looking after the Rudd’s 14-year-old son when they are away on official business – the wages of who the Rudd’s pay 60 per cent.

In a cynical ploy to cash in on the angst of voters doing it tough because of the rising cost of living, the Liberals are condemning the prime minister for his apparent largesse.

A senator who I have never heard of, but instantly presents himself as a fucktard of the highest order, Senator Michael Ronaldson, told the Senate Estimates Hearing: “So here we are at a stage in this country where petrol is $1.60 a litre, and here we have Jeeves, whose position as a travelling assistant to the Prime Minister is travelling around the country putting out clothes for the Prime Minister in the morning.”

And enter Dr Brendan Nelson, who, flushed with the first thing that can be considered success in his pitiful six months as opposition leader, said in Parliament: “The Prime Minister says to Australian families, ‘We’ve done everything we physically can to provide additional help to Australians’ – in other words ‘Get out of my way, I want to get in my long white car, I want to have these people look after me’.”

Surely Mr Nelson it’s time to stop patronising the general public and using us to score a rare point over the government.

Why don’t you stop using your own big white car, give up your electorate and parliamentary staff, get paid on a performance basis (which should be fuck all) and give up the generous parliamentary superannuation which you’ll be claiming long after petrol prices send many of the people you pretend to represent to the wall.

And while you’re at it fuck head, why don’t you look back six months and see how many staff were required to run both The Lodge and Kirribilli because of John Howard’s ridiculously self-indulgent decision to stay living in Sydney at our expense.

You talk about fuel and long white cars, well how much fuel was used so Mr fucking Howard could go home to his harbour view every night - try $7500 for the RAAF VIP jet to fly him to Sydney, and another $7500 to return to its base empty. And what about the Canbearra-based public servants who had to be flown to Sydney with the Prime Minister?

And you worry about the cost of employing a so-called butler and housekeeper?

Dr Nelson if you’re going to start trying to score cheap political points, try making sure non of the shit sticks you first, fuckwit.

I pissed on John Howard

I had a rare Saturday-night venture into Melbourne’s CBD at the weekend for a friend’s birthday drinks and after spending an enjoyable evening at Rue Babylon’s surrounded by a group of gorgeous women, we ventured to a great little joint called the Horse Bazaar, which, despite its involvement with experimental art and music, was an enjoyable and rather unpretentious venue, which uses visual media, in the form of projections on the wall, as well as music to entertain.

The urinal in the men’s is the best I’ve ever seen. It actually has a movie on it, obviously rear projected as I caused no shadow standing in front of it. As I did what it was that led me in there I noted that the vision being shown on the said piss tray was Riverdance, which was rather exciting because I can think of nothing better than pissing on the image of that obnoxious, God-awful Irishman Michael Flatley.

As I tried following directing the stream of piss at the foot-tapping ponce, I realised with great joy John Howard’s head super imposed in the footage of Lord of the Dance – talk about a great way to ensure men don’t piss on the floor!

Fortunately someone else has done what I wish I did and filmed this brilliant piece of functional art on their camera phone.

It only occurred to me after I left that I never checked the story inside the cubicles. Next time.

 

 

Zimbabwe – let’s hope the bastard goes

 

I remember, as a self-confessed Howard hater, hiw nervous I was before the last election and pondered how I’d cope if he won another term. In the end if Howard won my life wouldn’t have changed apart from the fact I’d propbably have a lot more reason to write angry blogs and yell at the TV during Lateline.

So, you can only imagine what supporters of Zimbabwe’s Opposition are feeling at the moment.

Counting has started, with the usual accusations of interference with voters, but there’s a quiet confidence that the tide is turning. For the sake of this beautiful and once proserous country, lets hope Mugabe is kicked out of office and finds exile somewhere far away.

Rudd meets Bush: Another pre-election myth busted

 

Many a Howard lover would have been vomiting blood today on seeing images of Kevin Rudd getting along famously with US President George W Bush.

If Howard had a strong point it was his relationship with the US and the pics of Rudd would remind them more than ever of what the Liberals have lost. They would have squirmed when hearing Bush’s comments at the news conference, like:

“(Our) friendship will strengthen and endure under the leadership of Kevin Rudd. I have found him to be a straightforward fella …  He is thoughtful, he is strategic in thought, and he is committed to the same values that I’m committed to: rule of law, human rights, human decency.

“And we’re sure proud you’re here.

“We spent a great deal of time talking about the economies. One thing we spent time on is talking about the benefits of trade between our two nations and the benefits of a world that trades freely and fairly.”

Bush also went on to say he admired Rudd for sticking to his convictions on Iraq, before using what I reckon is one of the best pieces of spin I’ve heard in a long time.

“Troops are coming out, because we’re successful. And so, I would view the Australian decision as return on success — returning home on success.”

And when Bush was asked if, like Howard, Rudd was a man of steel, Bush replied: “Yeah, heck yeah”. 

Rudd’s smooth pick up of the US-Australian-alliance baton dispels the myth that a Labor government would have spelled disaster for cross-Pacific relations –  just like how the unions aren’t killing and eating small children, the terrorists aren’t killing everyone, the wall-to-wall Labor states aren’t running roughshod on the government and the economy hasn’t gone to shit (yet).

Caption Contest #1

 

The Editor (not Ckub Wah’s editor, just the bloke who calls himself that at Grods) has suggested this pic from an earlier post is a prime Caption Contest candidate – so here goes!

Entries close when interest, if any, dries up. The winner gets a free subsrciption to Club Wah.

The boot has sunk!

 

The excellent blog/news/features site New Matilda, featured a great letter sent to the Sydney Morning Herald about John Howard’s supposedly brilliant legacy. I thought I’d publish it here because I could not have put this better myself – though I did add one word.

Some legacy, John. Highest inflation for 11 years. Eleven – or is it 12? – interest-rate rises in a row. Current account deficit second highest ever. Housing affordability worst ever. Skills crisis. Run-down health and education systems in every state. Decaying infrastructure Australia-wide. Imports up, exports down. Billions wasted in dud defence purchases. The Liberal Party in disarray. A back bench full of sulking part-timers led by Mr Seven Per Cent, all blaming you. Some economic manager you turned out to be. Some legacy. Enjoy your walk … cunt.
Ted Hemmens Dee Why

Great to see John Howard’s back

 

It was great to see John Howard back where we became accustomed to seeing him - on stage talking about issues he holds dear such as Iraq and WorkChoices.

Despite him being out of the limelight for just four months, I kinda forgot how much I hated the fucking smug, racist, anti-union, shitful, divisive, negatively-opportunistic bastard!

It’s good to be reminded of this as time has a tendency to put a rosey hue on history.