Bastard leaf blowers

Dear people of the worId.

We are facing many untold problems that impact every one of us — poverty at unprecedented levels, an orange dickhead in the White House, the Great Barrier Reef in critical condition… that’s why I would like to write about leaf blowers.

Seriously, whoever invented this satanic apparatus should be used for the barbaric testing of cosmetics instead of the current cute furry versions.

I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but as I understand it, the premise of the leaf blower is to remove leaves / crap from the front of your house / building to that of the neighbouring premises  — i.e. anywhere away from yours. What a brilliantly selfish concept.

The same principle should be applied to toilets. That would be fun.

I believe leaf blowers also have a “suck” capability. I have no issue with this, if it was ever used. Then there is the noise. Do they have to so be fucking loud? The other day I endured two of these things trying to out-duel each other in a battle that sounded like two A380 aircraft remaking the Deliverance soundtrack.

Surely we can do better — pretty much every day boffins burst out of the shed brandishing incredible scientific advancements, Elon Musk drove his car into space to do a few laps — surely a silent leaf blower can’t be that hard. There has to be a Nobel Peace Prize in it.
They’d get my vote.

©Steve Williams 2018

The Father of the Year demonstrates correct usage

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Yulin Dog Meat “Festival”, Brexit, Trump… #FFS

“I turned another year older recently, and in light of recent global events I have been thinking of the poignant Queen song “Is This the World We Created?” A fair question.

In no particular order, these are just a few of the random things seriously disturbing me.

Thankfully not on the Yulin menu

The “Yulin Dog Meat Festival” in China. For once, words almost fail me with this one. The name is sickeningly self-explanatory, however the word “festival” is a total misnomer. An annual event, the mind-fucking barbarity these poor animals are subjected to before the inevitable is forged from the utter bowels of depravity. It takes a hell of a lot to shock me, but the images I have encountered researching this cannot be unseen. These bastards need to be stopped. Ricky Gervais has been a champion in attacking the Yulin Dog Meat Festival, using a five letter word ending in “s” to describe the perpetrators. I couldn’t agree more.

Donald Trump.

The sick bastard in Western Australia who was jailed for a pathetic twenty-two years for raping his daughter over two years starting when she was only 11. If that doesn’t make your skin crawl, he also pimped her out to six other men. There was video and bondage gear involved. How do you even begin to fathom this? As a father, you can’t even start. He told police, “I’m going to be honest, it was fun while it lasted but it went way over the line.” A bullet to the brain would be too good for this monster. Twenty-two years is nothing compared to the life sentence the girl will have to endure. I hope she is getting all the love and support she needs. I hope the father only lasts an extremely painful 3.7 seconds in prison.

Hence, when impotence condition takes place, which affects their interest viagra generico cipla and intimacy with partner. Treatments for ED include levitra generika lifestyle changes, such as shedding extra kilos, cut on booze, quitting smoking, worked great in solving ED problem in a British study. You do not have to go far to enjoy different flavors of ginseng tea, rather you can enjoy your power booster sitting in the comforts of your home. order cheap viagra Many researchers have proclaimed that pelvic-floor exercise is the universal remedy for keeping oneself healthy and protects them from any viagra viagra amerikabulteni.com health disease. Donald Trump.

That nut job in Orlando — again a wannabe zealot hijacking religion and using his twisted fucked up beliefs to justify his slaughter. The blood-soaked scene of carnage du jour was a gay nightclub, however as we have tragically seen over the years, the killing grounds have included schools, shopping centres, cinemas, concert venues, even a chocolate branded cafe in Sydney. A flow on subset of problems here. Bleedingly (literally) obvious question… How can anyone walk into a gun shop and buy a military style weapon with no questions asked? Why does anyone NEED to walk into a gun shop and buy a military style weapon? It doesn’t make sense. Those mad fuckers at the NRA bang on about the Second Amendment, but that was ratified in 1791. Back then, massacre-inducing automatic weapons would have been some gunsmith’s wet dream.

Donald Trump.

Brexit. So much anger so little time. The ignorant racism, the xenophobia. The shame-faced lies of politicians and lobbyists. Mostly, the morons who, hours after voting to leave it were Googling “what is the EU?” Google reported that the search “what happens if we leave the EU?” tripled AFTER the vote. This woman needs to get in the sea…”Even though I voted to leave, this morning I woke up and I just — the reality did actually hit me, If I’d had the opportunity to vote again, it would be to stay.” Face palm. The right to vote is one of the greatest things we have, and these people are just pissing it up against a wall. Be careful what you wish for…

<rant ends>

©Steve Williams 2016

An open letter to cigarette smokers

Dear smokers. I know you and I don’t get along that well.

This bloke has the right idea (image: www.ecouterre.com)

I’d like to ask you some genuine questions, from someone who has never had a cigarette.

1. Why do you throw your cigarette butts on the ground? (#notallsmokers)

I know you very thoughtfully then stamp on it, grind it into the footpath / road / grass / beach
in case a random passerby treads on it and bursts into flames, thanks for that. But, pun intended, why don’t you pick it up?

Congratulations. You are adding to the several trillion cigarette butts discarded each year.

If I threw my empty bottle of whatever on the ground, trod on it and walked off, would you think that was odd? If yes, then what’s the difference?

But what am I supposed to do with it? 

Good question. That is your problem. You’re the one who is smoking. Find an ashtray, a garbage bin or preferably put it in your pocket. However, throwing it on the street / beach / pot plant / garden / drain or wherever, like everything else with your smoking – including the disgusting smell, risk of cancer etc – becomes my problem.

The street is the worst option. Street = drain = harbour or beach or river, causing untold damage to marine life for the simple fact butts are obviously not biodegradable. Surprisingly, they don’t magically evaporate in water, in fact all that lovely cadmium, lead and arsenic leaches into our environment within an hour of contact with water. They also don’t evaporate in air, evidenced by bushfires started by some moron lobbing a butt out of a car window.

2. What do you think happens to that cigarette butt you have just thrown on the ground?

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More likely a bloke with a bastard leafblower blows it down the drain and then see above.

3. What do you do at home? Is your floor / backyard / balcony a Great Pyramid of Butts?
Hopefully you dispose of cigarette butts properly, well, as properly as one can…
so why don’t you do that when you are out?

I know, I know… you non-smokers don’t get it, it’s an addiction, smoking is not illegal,
the government makes a fortune out of us smokers… 
blah, blah, blah.

Again. I don’t care. You have no rights as a smoker. Perversely, actually you do.
You can sit outside a nice restaurant “enjoying” your cigarette, the view and the “fresh air”,
while I have to endure your recycled smoke and that stench. Why should I be forced inside?
I know Australian state governments have acted on this to their credit, but this doesn’t go
far enough. I’m talking to you, Europe.

If smoking just stayed your problem, I’d be happy. Butt it doesn’t. So I’m not.

©Steve Williams 2016

*This piece also appeared in The Huffington Post Australia:
I Wish Smoking Was Just Your Problem. Butt It’s Not

Robot Rugby League – No Dramas

Hugh Jackman got me thinking. Well, he is the “thinking man’s sex symbol.”

You won’t find this fullback doing a thing in Schlossy’s shoe

Remember Real SteelHugh’s futuristic movie featuring robot boxing? With the rugby league season about to kick off, I believe Australia’s National Rugby League should run with this concept immediately — simply do away with human players and replace them with robots. Think about it. No more alcohol-fuelled 4am Kings Cross incidents. It really will solve all the off-field dramas,
as there will be no off-field, you just hit the off switch.

How good will it be? No more nightclub groin-groping and flashing, no shady betting scandals,
no delightful alliteration of “I just shat in Schlossy’s shoe”, no mid-season inter-club or other code defections, and an end to on-field proctology examinations, which apparently have even spread to the netball court.

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Okay, you may be concerned the play could become a little bit, er, robotic — I am across that — occasionally you could program a bit of rogue robot action, just like when Yul Brynner went all random in that classic film West World. It would be quite easy to ramp up the “bring back the biff” setting for State of Origin, or fire up the “traditional softening up period” program for Grand Finals.

The league and TV bosses would love it, Kings Cross police would love it, and Schlossy’s shoe would forever be empty.

Thanks Hugh.

©Steve Williams 2014