Chiffon #80. Rode into the Road


Hi there,

Yeah I jus dough no whazup. Fukc that’s different. I feel these days perhaps I should not wait for life to notice me, but it is not life so much, just idiots livid life, maybe it is the life I livid?1 I am getting annoyed at the drop of a hat.

Just recently I have had the pleasure of reclaiming my licence to drive but it is fast turning into a painful exercise. Aside from the unusually cold temperatures that I embraced the other morning and notwithstanding the wait endured, I fronted, I was informed by Trish that I required a passport and or birth certificate in order to be able to proceed to the Commonwealth Medical Officer and depending on the colour of his socks I may find myself in a position to avail myself of one hundred and fifty five dollars  in order to have a twelve month only probationary licence with a photo, to drive a motor vehicle with the same conditions and everyting which may or may not go along with that.

You can be accessed by any police person for whatever reason as long as they give you an excuse and if you objected to that because you kind of realised that you have no rights on the road because of your record and that you knew that when you started being abstinent of the offending substance three years earlier, and as a result of someone else just doing their job, you pointed that fact out. Hoping to at least be believed and trusted and get on with your life and not stopped for no reason at all by society and its cynical employees and hauled over the coals  unnecessarily and perhaps that someone detected an irritation in your demeanour and this resulted in an escalation  of his professionalism, to a point where he decided to prove a point. He can. Do I really need to drive?

Once again I have been thrust into the digital world because of an irritating three hundred dollar phone bill! I am reluctant to pay it in a hurry, not because I am bloody minded but more because they had no right to disconnect me not from the internet and my home phone nor lock up my mobile phone because a payment way back in January was a day late. I am on a plan. I am also on a very small income administered through private trustees and goodness knows my mobile phone has been faulty. My computer contracted a virus which has resulted in it ceasing to function and has been rarely used and, on the odd occasion I was connected, no downloads and never more than twenty minutes time on. I did not use it to the point the amount of their bills indicate.

Telstra have been sending monthly bills of between three to nine hundred dollars consistently over the last twenty-four months every month. This company run by a guy with the same name as the gangster mechanic who used to agree ‘oils ain’t oils’ (alluding to some edge over shoddy products), now it could be coils aint coils (a shoddy product with lots of edges). Do I really need to talk over a phone, send emails over the web? In order to get my phone line back it seems I have to put up with this standoff. If the milkman knocked off something till a bill got paid it would result in the police charging him with theft/ But where is the trust as I have paid their fucking rip off bills up until they stole my phone functions and left me with garbage?

Our Captain Crudd seems to have missed the point buy telling the Pope that only after a week he is now one of us. What did he mean? Was he referring to the fact that they had both publically said sorry? I don’t think so. Kev could not have been suggesting that the Pope had become one of the downtrodden, overworked and most highly taxed overweight citizens of this country. Whatever he meant I am sure the OPope would like to think that we aspire to be more like him, expressing the virtues of Christianity. You know, compassion, tolerance, love, acceptance, understanding, telling the truth, halleluiah etcetera! etcetera!

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