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**July**

Governor Chikory's new law* - 

As of this moment, no more old senile people are allowed out in public unescorted!  I am sick of these old fuddy duddys that can't hear, can't see a blind thing, and can't make up their damn minds.  Serving this breed of elderly is absolutely painful.  It is a long, drawn out, stressful process that can easily be avoided.  This is where my new law comes in.

Behold the classic example of serving an old person:
"I want this."
"Which one?"
"This one here."
"I'm sorry, I can't see on that side of the cabinet, can you read the sign please and tell me what it is?"
"This one."
"First shelf?"
"No.  This here."
And so it goes...

Then there's the choices they have.
"Do you want your bread sliced?"
"Yes."
"Thick or thin?"
"Yes I will have it sliced."
"Yes, but would you like it thick sliced or thin sliced?"
"Yes, that's the one I want."
"Thick or thin sliced though?"
"Yes, sliced.  Thank you."
And you repeat this several hundred times until you feel like bludgeoning them with the loaf of bread.

When they're finally done, they then insist that you give them a bag so that they can carry their one extremely small item to the car.  Once the bag has been provided, they then insist on telling you why they're buying bread, or a sausage roll, or a bottle of water (it's almost as though you gave them the impression that you actually give a shit!).

Finally, you have the payment process.  This is where they spend a few minutes getting you to shout out how much it costs.  Sometimes they start to feel jiffed, they might choose to whine about how much their pie costs, or they'll start to ask how much each individual item was.  When this happens, you then have to wait while they calculate it mentally for themselves, only to find that you are indeed correct, and you are not taking advantage of them in their old fartism.

Now they're ready to fork over some dough.
...
"That's three dollars thirty."
"I have a pensioner card."
"Yes, I've got that already.  It's three dollars thirty."
"Is that with the discount?"
"Yes!"
...  Several people start to line up and are getting just as miffed as you ...
10 cents, five cents, a few 20's.
... More people ...
More 10 cent pieces.
... Even more people ...
They refuse to place the money in your hand, this ticks you off and wastes more time because it's a bugger to pick it up off of the counter when the counter is almost as tall as you.
More five cent pieces, almost there.
"How much more do I need?" (5 minutes has gone by)
"Another fifteen cents."
30 seconds passes.
"Oh, I don't have that.  I'll have to give you a 50 dollar note."
#@$@ $%#$ @!@#!!!!
... Random equally as pissed off impatient on-looker storms up to the counter and pays the 15 cents to get them to piss off ...
Now you have a massive crowd on your hands, and all because of one old codger.

My new law will create jobs for people.  For from this day forward, elderly people will have to succumb to frequent testing.  If they are found to be too slow, deaf, blind, or just plain stupid (yeah, I know that's half of the public), they then must hire someone to accompany them places and do almost everything for them.  

The elderly not allowed to function on their own will have a chip implanted in their forehead.  People in the customer service industry will be required to scan them before they are served.  If the scan comes back positive for a chip, and they do not have a capable person accompanying them, you simply refuse service and tell them to piss off.

Vote 1 - Chikory O'Riley.

Please note - I do not hate all old people, there are quite a few that I find are pretty cool.  This law has been put in place to protect the few cool elderly people from being tarnished with the same brush as the annoying farts™.

*Law is not real... Yet.  So do not follow it, or begin protesting against it.

Posted by Chikory at 17:20.
Today is Saturday, the 23rd of July, 2005.

Derryn Hinch is in the poo, figuratively speaking.

With Woolies part time permanent starting up on Monday, I've decided to start getting up at 2am again to beat the grumpy factor out of my early morning starts.  It'll be a little screwy at first, but I'll have it down pat soon enough, and will be wreaking havoc on the Internet during the wee hours of the morning.  I've been working my arse off for the past week, and have had very little time to use my pooter... oh how I've missed cussing out random insignificant people via the world wide web...  Anyway, enough of that, you wanna read about our mutual buddy Derryn.  

Whilest Googling through my saved-up list of every day queries and facts of interest, I came across this little pdf file.  It seems one disgruntled viewer doesn't like Kellogg's taking the piss out of taking a dump, so they dealt with it the only way they knew how.
That's right folks, they wrote a letter!  DA DA DUM! (Just trying to add in a little dramatic effect.  Come on, work with me here people.)

DESCRIPTION OF THE ADVERTISEMENT

This television advertisement depicts Derryn Hinch approaching a couple in a furniture store. Derryn Hinch introduces the couple as Dennis and Kate Davis. He invites them to take a seat on the sofa in the furniture store and begins to interview them about their use of Kellogg’s All Bran. He asked if they have become “regular” users. They reply in the affirmative. At the end of the advertisement Derryn looks over his shoulder to his right at a set of bar stools. He looks back to the camera and says “nice stools”.

THE COMPLAINT

Comments which the complainant/s made regarding this advertisement the following:
“I find this sort of vulgarity offensive and in extremely bad prude, but neither do I condone such insensitive comments about bodily functions. This ad encourages the immature to follow example in discussing this subject in an offensive manner.”

THE ADVERTISER’S RESPONSE

Comments which the advertiser made in response to the complaint/s regarding this advertisement included the following:
“Kellogg considers that the commercial is in keeping with prevailing community standards or that it does not breach the Code.”

Okay.  So Derryn isn't directly in trouble, it's Kellogg's that's in the poo.  But I still found it funny all the same.  Wanna see something else funny?  Click here.  

Posted by Chikory at 17:11.
Today is Sunday, the 17th of July, 2005.

The State of Origin...  I'm disgusted!

   
Note:  The Maroons are not worthy of their logo being viewed on my site.  That game was a complete and utter shambles!

I've never been the sort of person who enjoys watching or playing sport.  I was always the kid who hated sports day, cheered on the opposing teams, and excelled at sucking badly.  I recall a time in primary school when I decided I would attempt to be good at sport.  So my brother and I would practice high jump, basketball, and track in our garage.  But when the ball kept hitting the wall and going bush, we soon got pissed off and went inside to watch some good ol' television.

Then there was the time I took a liking to tennis, I still have the racket that I saved so hard for.  I played that for a little while, but when the same fate became of the tennis balls, and no one would play with me, I soon gave that up.  In fact I recall that stupid bitch on the corner wouldn't even return my tennis ball when we decided to take the game out into the cu-de-sac.  The thing went over the fence, into her yard and there was no getting it back.  I wrote a short note, asking her to return my ball, popped it in the letter box, and she never walked the 2 houses down to return it.  That cow.  I paid for that friggin' ball out of my own pocket!

But back to the point.  There was bugger all to watch on TV, and as I had learned from watching 'The Dream' with Roy and HG last Olympics, sport can be fun to watch if you let yourself get involved enough.  So on flicked The State of Origin; where New South Wales and Queensland play what appears to be an extremely homosexual game involving a ball.

Leah, the manager of the 2nd Brumby's (the boss owns 2, and I work at both), is really into it.  We had the coloured balloons, the flag, hats to wear and her traditional maroon shirt.  The entire day we had people walking past voicing that we were showing the wrong colour, to which she would reply, "If you like New South Wales so much, why aren't you still living there?"  Yeah, all in good fun.  But now she'll be crying because the Maroons lost, 10 - 32!  To this I say, WHAT THE FUDGE MONKEY???

Now I watched most of the game, the first hour to be exact, because then HOUSE came on and I decided to only watch the game during the ads.  From what I saw, The Maroons did a half arsed job!  It was disgusting!  They seemed to be spending most of their time touching up the other players, and hugging them when they could have just as easily passed that ball around and out smarted the cockroaches!  What the hell were they playing?  'Cause it certainly didn't look like Rugby League.

The Maroons had a lowly score of 0 for the first hour and half or so, but about 20 minutes before the end they shot up to a shit arse 10 points.  Personally, I don't even think they used their skill to gain those measly few, pitiful points.  I think someone was paid off for that.  They just didn't want to lose so miserably, so they came to a compromise.

Anywhozel...  At the very beginning, all the dudes ran out onto the field and this one guy, whom after a bit of research has been discovered to be 'Ben Kennedy', took his stance alone and proceeded to look quite sorry for himself (He's a blue player by the way).  I dubbed him, 'The guy with no friends'.  So mum and I spent most of the game searching the field for him.  Part way through, he suffered a fake injury.  One of the Maroon morons smacked him in the face, and he fell down and played dead.  Yeah, he's seen those documentaries, he had the situation under control.  Pity there were no bears around.  Even though it was obvious that he was faking it like a little pussy boy, one of the Maroon morons came over, picked him up by his shirt and dropped him.  More or less reinforcing his theory that playing dead was the right thing to do.  
For that one act of brutalism, the Maroon moron got in a whole seat of shit by the ref, I think it was, and got sent to the naughty stool for as many minutes as he is old.  When his time was up, the ref got down to his level, explained to him what he did was wrong, and he was asked to then apologise to both the ref, and our little Benny boy.  
Even though Ben got up and was looking 100% after the fall, it's my personal opinion that he was just playing dead to see if anyone really cared about him.  The lack of support he got from the Blue team showed me that he was, indeed, friendless.  Had I been there I would've pointed and laughed.  

So we lost.  Well, when I say we, I mean THEY lost.  The Maroons lost, and I didn't.  I still kick arse as much as I did before, and I refuse to be affiliated with such losers.  I don't know them, I don't condone sucking.  I have a big problem with sucking.  Especially sucking as badly as they sucked.  I couldn't suck anymore than them if I tried! 

By the way...  Yeah, I stole the picture.  I'm well aware of that.  So what?  To make all parties happy, I will include the link to said picture, and many more much like this one.  They're available for purchase if anyone is interested.  So go for it.  Click the vacant space next to here (You may see a line marking the link, you may not.  Just click wildly and see what happens)>>>  <<<

Posted by Chikory at 00:42.
Today is Friday, the 8th of July, 2005.

First nut case of the month.

The 2nd day into the month, and I've already been accosted by a total wack job.  It was a sales man of sorts, only he had an extremely retarded approach to making a sale.  His first mistake was attempting to suck me into a deal by proposing marriage.  His second was assuming I was an idiot, and his third was trying to make me listen to his sack of mit while I was working.  So, this is what happened...

I was standing around cleaning the various food signs because I had bugger all to do, and it was unusually quiet for a Saturday.  This bottle blonde fagworth in a black suite and white tie came wondering over with his phone to his ear.  I thought he was a bit of an idiot, because he didn't seem to be saying anything.  Just standing around, staring at me and looking at food.  There was another girl looking, so I set my sights on her and asked if she needed any help.  She replied she was just looking and then asked me a question about some food.  This is where the wacko with the phone butts in and asks me what my favourite thing in the savoury cabinet is.  To tell you the truth, I don't really have one.  So I just said, "I'd have to say the garlic twists are.  You can get two for five dollars at the moment, so that saves you about 2 bucks or so."  He nodded, pointed to the girl and said, "Hey, we can go halves."  She laughed and said yeah, but fobbed him off.  So at this point I wasn't quite sure if they were together or not.  

A few minutes later, he was still standing there, getting in the way and wasting my time with stupid questions like, "What's in this?" when you can clearly see it's a piece of bread with melted cheese on top.  Finally the female customer got pissed off, and departed and I was stuck with the moron for about 3 more minutes.  He left when more customers came along.

About an hour later, he returned.  I did the usual greeting, and then the following happened.
Wack Job:  "Hold out your left hand."
Me:  "What?"
Wack Job:  "Hold out your hand."
Me:  "Why?"
Wack Job:  "Just do it."
Me:  "Why?"
Wack Job:  "Come on."
So finally I do, palm facing up in the hope he intends on paying me for some food.
Wack Job:  "The other way round."  At this stage I don't like the tone of his voice.  He's getting pushy and sounding like a real arsehole.
So I turn my hand around and he slides this plastic sticky tape ring on my ring finger.  My face instantly chances from, 'you're pissing me off', to 'OMG!  WTF?  PSYCHO ALERT!'
Me:  "What's this?"
Wack Job:  "I made it for you."
Me thinking - "No shit!"
I instantly take the thing off and toss it on the counter behind a sign, which he notices.
Wack Job:  "Don't you like it?"
Me:  "I think it's creepy."
Wack Job:  "Have you ever done any modelling?"
Me:  "No."
Wack Job:  "Would you like to?"
Me:  "No."
Wack Job:  "Why not?"
Me:  "It's not something that takes my fancy.  I'm antisocial.  I avoid people at all costs."
Wack Job:  "I'm antisocial too."
Me:  "Really?  Good for you."
Wack Job:  "What about your mother?  Does she like having her photo taken?"
Call it very stereotypical, but the bastard has just implicated my mother in this perverted conversation, so I start to get a little hostile and shitty.  This is where my mum's kick arse sarcasm comes into play.  I love her for that.  She taught me everything I know.
Me:  "No.  She's antisocial too.  Where do you think I inherited it from?  Are you going to buy anything?"
Wack Job:  "I was hoping to sell you something actually."
Me:  "So you're a sales person?"
Wack Job:  "Yes, how did you know?"
Me:  "Uh... because you're here trying to SELL me something!"
Wack Job:  "How old are you?"
I told him... stupid me.  I think in the future I am going to do what I do on the Internet.  If anyone asks me my age, I'm 83 and born in 1922.  That way if I start off being difficult with people I don't like, they'll piss off quicker, and I won't get fired because I wasn't overly rude to the "customer".
Wack Job:  "Are you sure you don't want to do some modelling?  It could be confidence boosting."
Me:  "I'm quite sure."
Wack Job:  "I was going to offer you a deal."
Me:  "I'm an extremely cheap person when it comes to money.  I don't bother with unnecessary things."
After a few minutes of me saying no, he finally left me in peace.  But only for another hour or so.

On my lunch break I headed for the thunder box, and he was on the prowl for more unsuspecting people.  He saw me, waved, so I waved back very unenthusiastically.  So attempting to use yet another sales tactic, he says "Now that wasn't very antisocial of you."  Too which I reply, "It's called being polite!" and I continued on my way.

After lunch, the tard returned.  Doing a stupid fake French accent, asking more stupid questions about the food, and wasting even more of my time.  I was just about to tell him to piss off unless he intended on buying something, because I have a store to close and another job to go to, when he asked for the chilli sausage roll.  I gave it to him, and he knew it was chilli, and that it wasn't going to be very hot.  I thought this would be the end.  But no.  He ate the thing, came back, and claimed it was carrot, not chilli.  I ignored him, and he went on his way.

I was very relieved when my mummy dearest rocked up at 1pm to accompany me while I closed the shop.  She comes in every closing shift and sits with me while I count the money and what not, because being on your own with a door that you can't shut and lock while being on the inside, isn't very safe at all.  And after the recent bag episode, I'm not all that comfortable being there by my self.
So anyway, after I changed into my Woolies uniform, I walked her to the car with all our free food.  He was sitting on a bench, so mum gave him her 'evil intent to kill if you harm my babies' look.  And dude, if you've seen it, it's a freakin' scary look!  Not shitting you there, it's quite disturbing to witness.

But anyway, here is picture of the "ring" that is now in the bin.  I personally think he was just checking to see how gullible I was.  In his face!  Sleaze bag.

Posted by Chikory at 16:16.
Today is Sunday, the 3rd of July, 2005.

Anniversary time!!!

So, it's my mum and dad's wedding anniversary today.  Typically, dad forgot.  So did Josh and Piddlezonks (That's my other brother's nickname.  Although he prefers "Sifuh".).  I remembered though.  I stopped by IGA after work (Woolies had shut), got our usual anniversary treat - Cherry Ripes and Bountys - and handed them out to ma and pa.  Mum was grinning from ear to ear because she was waiting to see who remembered.  So yeah, I'm like THAT cool right now.  Anywho, I'm gonna now take the opportunity to type the stupid rhyme we always use to write in the card when we were kids...

Happy anniversary mum and dad, we hope it's the best one you've ever had.

I know it's rather lame.  But you can shut up!

Posted by Chikory at 20:46.
Today is Saturday, the 2nd of July, 2005.