we did it our way...

lovely day today.

well it was till I sat there having my morning cup of tea and the 'gardener' from next door came by with his spray pack.

squirt squirt squirt.

I suppose if you cant get it up anymore then walking round squirting a hose full of poison over everything is a substitute.

I thought gardening was about making things grow.

not walking round trying to kill everything.

he told me when he got the job that he always wanted to be a gardener and now he is one.

yeah right.

His employers are like the the United States Presidential discourse and the nincompoops from the NZ Labour Party. they all think a group of policy wonks and the data from a focus group are suffiicient to understand anything.

maybe if they are intelligent people to start with.

as for the rest just tell a whole bunch of half truths retailed at full price and the proles will never know the difference.

easy!

Anybody who listened to high court judge Peter Boshier on 9-noon this week before he got cut off will know that kiwis dont want to listen, they cant be told, only their own truths count and winning is everything.

and much better if you can take down your lawyer and all those nace people who call you by your christian name only as long as the government is paying the legal aid bill.

more others to fuck with for free.

they all know how to count money but that is the start and finish of it.

They all worried about their mortgage and pay scale and what goods to buy when they exercise their choices but the world qua world is nothing to do with them.

Shit they might have to get their hands dirty and actually exert themselves and do something.

This morning they blessed the words on the wall at the Carterton Events Centre.

more frigging words.

thats all they good at.

Wasnt room for a member of the community to get a sausage roll.

the self selected clique that consider themselves the community were busy hogging the lot.

"The Artists."

more like bullshit artists and free sausage roll blaggers.

The mayor with his new beard made a snide comment as I walked past.

He is just  cant speak to me man to man.

he can go bumping of tribesmen in the desert on contract but manning up to the constituency is alltogether too hard.

I suppose every time I see him I look at him and laugh doesn't help matters much.

He thinks he is a real man but nup. just another  popinjay.

he just another pigs ear disguised as a silk purse.

a hothouse flower.

see nobody in New Zealand has ever really made anything.

Sure they dig stuff up and cut trees down and grow grass, and hire out as contract mercenaries  but they dont actually make anything.

Self esteem comes from the remuneration package.

not from actually fabricating something useful.

I'm beginning to wonder if  "they" actually understand that concept.