Episode 2

At the end of your time at Kapooka, you do this Exercise called The Challenge. I’m sure it’s changed since I went through, but from memory, it started with a pack march, included a section attack, the seemingly HUGE obstacle course, a dam crossing, bayonette assault course and more forced marching. I think it was around 20km long and incorporated almost everything we learned during basic training.

The night before The Challenge, you get a bit of a special treat. The Challenge came after a few days out bush practicing our fieldcraft skills. Around dinner time, we were told we were “non-tac”, short for non-tactical, which usually means the Exercise has ended or is going through an admin phase. So, it’s a time to relax.

We got to light a fire, eat a hot meal and relax with our Section Commanders. It’s also the night when you get a bit of come-uppance on your platoon staff, and you get to partake in the Army’s favourite passtime – skit night. There are pretty much no limits and nothing is sacred. The recruits get to do little skits to take the piss out of their staff. It’s great fun.

It was at this time that – in any other situation – I could have faced a trip to jail. I remember standing right at the edge of the fire, having a drink. Morale was high and everyone was having fun, but we were just at the end of a few days out bush and getting psyched for The Challenge, so tempers were still a little high, too.

There had been some arguments through the Platoon during the night, but nothing serious. I was standing there, minding my own business, when someone barged into me from behind, pushing me forward and causing me step into the fire. Naturally, I was pissed. I spun around, instantly aggressive, and said “Don’t fucking push me”, only to find my Section Commander standing behind me.

My Section Commander was CPL Marks. Only a little guy, but he was Infantry, covered in tattoos and had shown himself during our training as a guy not to trifle with. When I saw him standing there, and realising I had just sworn at a Corporal (punishable by having your pubic hair removed by an angry great white shark), I quickly added “…..Corporal” to the end of my remark.

CPL Marks looked me up and down and said “You’ve got guts, recruit” and walked off. That may not seem too significant to a civilian, so let me explain something to you. In Defence, there are only a handful of offenses that can result in instant arrest and escort straight to jail. Obviously, violent things like assault, but the other two are disobeying a lawful command and insubordination.

Insubordination is a catch-all phrase for disrespecting someone with more rank than you. If you give someone a threatening look – you’re being insubordinate – and they can arrest you and lock you up. So, me swearing at my Corporal like that was DEFINITELY insubordination, and I could have faced a quick trip to jail – meaning a fail at Kapooka. Or even worse, CPL Marks could have thrown a punch at me. Illegal of course, but given a choice, I would probably have chosen jail.

Ironically, the skit that I took part in that night was taking the piss out of Corporal Marks and his favourite phrase during our training “Fuck off, c**khead”. Aaaah, the memories.

The following morning, The Challenge went as well as you could expect. It took forever and by the end of it, we were all buggered. The beauty of it is that The Challenge is like your final test at Kapooka, so once it’s over, you start to relax a little. That night we even got to go to the Boozer (Army speak for pub) and have a few too many drinks.

About a week after The Challenge, you get do your March Out parade. Family and friends are invited, and you spend days and days practicing the parade until it’s perfect. My father and step-mother came to watch my March Out parade and then aftwerwards they get to meet you at the club, where they put on a BBQ and a few drinks.

I got to share a few beers with my old man, which I’d never really gotten to do before. After the BBQ, we were taken back to our rooms for another talking to, before we were allowed out on the town. I remember Dad coming back onto the base and meeting me at the Boozer, where we had a couple of drinks together. It was then that I found that I had learned the magical art of drinking beer – to the point where Dad actually asked me slow down because he couldn’t keep up with me!

The last few days at Kapooka were still action packed. You do a final uniform and room inspection – carried out by the Camp Commandant (Commander) of the base. It’s funny, but the preparation you do for that final inspection is ridiculous. Things like polishing the floors and then covering them with blankets so you don’t ruin them.

During your time at Kapooka, you make some very tight bonds with people. You work and live with these people 24/7 for months on end, so you quickly learn what people are really like. Some you discover will never get to be your friend, while some might be your friend for the rest of your career or even your life.

Australia Sucks II

I got a bee in my bonnet today. I was reading the news online and things just started to shit me. Why? Because the Australian government sucks. In my opinion, it’s full of arse clowns that are only interested in making themselves look good, and have no f**king idea whatsoever about how to make this country great.

My first case study is that health insurance in Australia is about to be means tested. What the f**k is that all about? Next, they’ll be means testing petrol. Our government can get f**ked. The WHOLE WORLD knows how expensive Australia is. It’s the main reason our tourism is starting to die off. It costs people a million dollars to get here, and then we rip them off once they arrive.

I’m in the Army – I’ve mentioned that before – and that means that I am at the mercy of civilians running the Defence of our country. Maybe if they picked someone who had done some military service, life wouldn’t be so shit for the ADF. But politicians are all soft and couldn’t handle it. Ergo, our lives are dictated by ignorant assholes.

The latest bullshit decision to effect Defence is that they are going to remove the Rising Sun badge from our slouch hats. The Rising Sun seems to date back as far as the 1820′s, although it’s difficult to pinpont exactly when it became associated with the Aussie Digger.

And why is it that we are losing this MASSIVELY iconic insignia? Because the government needs to save money. Apparently, they are going to save money by not holding stocks of this badge in our military clothing stores. Mind you, at least we get to keep THE HAT, the discontinuation of which was another one of their ideas.

This is just the latest in a string of reasons why military personnel are doing it tough. We’re constantly being shafted by the government when it comes to our entitlements and conditions of service. Why can air hostesses claim hair cuts and make-up on their tax, when soldier’s can’t claim haircuts? If I don’t get my hair cut according to our doctrine, then I can be charged: resulting in a fine.

When a married Defence member separates from his/her spouse, the spouse gets a Defence-funded removal to a new home – while the serving member gets NOTHING. Oh wait, what they DO get is 28 days to get out of their house and move into somewhere else (at their own expense).

And why does the Prime Minister get a free trip to Gallipoli on ANZAC Day, when soldiers have to pay their own way? Why do politicians get 20% pay rises, when Defence personnel have to FIGHT for 6% over 2 years? It’s a f**king joke.

In the words of the infamous Bill O’Chee: “They can root my boot”

More about Kapooka

I was checking my site stuff today and saw that a couple of people found their way here by asking about what happens if you have to leave the Army DURING basic training. And the answer – like most things – is: it depends.

Firstly, you can’t just decide you don’t like it and leave. If they allowed that, we wouldn’t have an Army! I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have stayed if I had the chance to just walk away.

But some of the questions obviously related to injuries. Basically, if you leave Kapooka by being discharged from the Army, that’s really about the end of it. You might be required to join the Inactive Army Reserve, but generally, if you are discharged medically, then it’s like Defence deciding they can’t get you back to full health.

If you get hurt at Kapooka, they have a hospital there where you can spend time. If you break or tear something, you can stay there and recover and then build your fitness back up and pick up where you left off – maybe dropping back a week or two, depending on what stage you were at.

So the bottom line is that if you get hurt, and they decide they can fix you, then you will stay and eventually finish your training. If they decide they can’t fix you, they will get you to a suitable standard, discharge you and then PROBABLY take care of the bills for that injury once you’re out.

Leave after Kapooka

Strange title for a post? Yes indeedy. But it’s actually a search term used quite a bit lately that has brought people to my blog. So I thought I’d throw up a quick post to explain it.

Basically, it all depends. It depends on the time frame between when you finish Kapooka and when your IET course starts. The general process is to get you to your IET course location as soon as possible, and then you wait there. That could be a couple of days, it could be a couple of weeks.

So the Army has this thing called Holding Platoon. If you arrive at your IET location, and there’s a bit of a wait until your course, you get posted in to Holding Platoon and they look after you until the course starts.

Generally speaking, you’ll be given random administrative tasks to complete during the day. You could be helping out at The Mess preparing meals, or you could be working in the Orderley Room (the HR office) helping file paperwork, or you could be out there painting rocks and doing some gardening.

In VERY rare cases, you may actually be able to take REAL leave and go somewhere else. But like I said, that is VERY rare. There would need to be an extended period of time before your course AND you would need to have been hanging around long enough to accrue some leave AND you would need a pretty damn good reason not to stay where you are.

Once your course starts, you probably won’t get any real leave until the course ends. You may get the occasional weekend off – again, depending on how long the course is and how intense it is – but you won’t be able to go anywhere further than the local town.

Once your IET course ends, the intent is to get you to your new posting as soon as possible. Generally, you’ll be sent there within a couple of days of completing your course. And then, depending on what’s going on in your new unit, you might get leave – or you may not.

Another thing I should point out – as raised by “Joel” – at the bottom of my “What happens at Kapooka” post, is what happens with people who are married when they join the Army.

Defence is really quite open-minded these days when it comes to relationships. We no longer talk about Married or Single, we talk about a Member (soldier/sailor/airman) that either does, or does not, have dependents. Defence recognises that you might be a single parent, you might be a step-parent or even have adopted kids. They even recognise same-sex relationships these days, as well as common law de facto marriages.

So, if you are “single” and have no dependents (kids, spouse, person you care for, etc) then you are known as a Member Without Dependents (or MWOD). If you DO have a dependent, then you are a Member With Dependents (or MWD). Easy enough?

If you join up as an MWOD, then life is simple. If you’re an MWD, then things get a bit more complicated. When an MWD is separated from their dependents FOR SERVICE REASONS, they are considered “Unaccompanied” – so now you become an MWD(U). During Kapooka, you obviously need to leave your family at home, so you are an MWD(U) member during basic training.

If you go to a “normal” IET course, then this will continue to be the case throughout your course. If you join a Corps with an extended IET course (and some can go for a year or more), then you may be allowed to bring your family and be an MWD again. There are a few entitlements for MWD’s, and you can read about them here.

If you remain MWD(U) during your IET course, then either immediately after your course – or shortly after arriving at your new posting – you will be given the chance to “reunite” with your family and arrange to have them move to your new posting location. Naturally, all this is at Government expense. If this happens to you, your admin staff will guide you through the process and tell you what to do.

So does that answer more of everyone’s questions? If not, drop me a line – or keep those funky search terms coming – and I’ll post more info to clarify what happens to you when you join the Army.

What happens after Kapooka?

Ok, so I’ve seen a few people checking out my post on Kapooka, which is the basic training location for the Australian Army. It seems that people keep coming back to see what I wrote (you can check it out here), but haven’t been leaving me comments or questions!

But from some of the search terms people are using, it seems that there’s a few of you out there that want to know what happens AFTER Kapooka. In the Army, we call this “marching out”. We use that term when you leave a unit, and then you naturally “march in” to your new unit.

Kapooka is a bit different to when I was there (in July 1990!!). These days, I think most people know what job they’re going to either before they get to Kapooka, or it’s confirmed while they’re there. When I went through, all that was decided while you were there. Your performance and aptitude dictated which jobs were available to you after Kapooka.

After your trip to Kapooka, you still need to undergo more training. Kapooka is all the basic soldiering stuff – like drill, fieldcraft, weapons, radios, first aid and all that jazz. Everyone at Kapooka does exactly the same training, regardless of what job you’re going to.

So once Kapooka is finished, you do your “Initial Employment Training” (IET’s). Just so you know, in the Army, most of the anagrams are pronounced using the letters – not turning it into a word. So IET is pronounced EYE-EE-TEE, not Iyet, lol.

Your IET’s will be totally dependent on what job you will do in the Army. Some only take six weeks (like clerks), while some can take a year or more (like Signals or Engineers). Generally, once you finish your IET’s, you will be posted to a real unit. Sometimes though, you need to do EVEN MORE training after your IET’s. For example, if you want to become a Tradie (like a carpenter or plumber), then you do a normal apprenticeship – taking four years to complete!

During IET’s, you will usually be visited by your CM (Career Manager). That’s a person who now sits in Canberra, and is responsible for the postings of everyone within a Corps. They have a chat to everyone on the course and will let you know where you can expect to be posted at the end of your course. But a word to the wise when it comes to CM’s and postings: Don’t believe a word of it, until you arrive at your new unit. CM’s are famous for promising the world and NOT delivering.

IET’s is A LOT more relaxed than Kapooka – unless you’re off to Infantry or Artillery. Those guys are pretty regimental. You’ll probably be able to have a little more time to yourself and will even get to go into town and see a movie or go to a bar. Just remember though, that apart from a few IET courses run in big cities – all of the locals see IET’s in town EVERY day. Don’t make a fool of yourself, and don’t think that you are better then them. That will only get you into trouble.

Most people enjoy their IET course, because you are finally learning all the skills you need to do the job you want to do for the rest of your life (maybe). There’s still room inspections and drill and PT and all the annoying stuff that you did at Kapooka, but it’s a little more relaxed.

I mentioned before about CM’s looking after a Corps. Here is a wiki link to read about all the different Corps in the Australian Army.

So I’m going to lay this out to you again: If you have ANY questions about Kapooka or IET’s, then leave a comment. I don’t have to let your comment go public, so if you think it’s an embarrassing question, let me know and I’ll answer you privately (include your e-mail address).

Get some balls, Australia

I struggled with the title of this post for a while, because a lot of what I have to say is about religion and about Christmas. I’ve already done one Christmas post, Bah Humbug, but this one is different.

In America, they’d call me Patriotic. But here in Australia, I get tagged as Racist or Intolerant. Strange how you can end up with a good or a bad label, depending on your “audience”.

The basis of this post is about people from other countries who come to Australia. Let me point out that I have nothing against that. I KNOW that some people have come from aweful places. After all, I’ve been to Iraq and Afghanistan. I KNOW what these people live with day to day.

But what I DO object to is when these people come to MY country and then decide that I have to live by THEIR rules. Or that they are going to pretty much ignore the Australian way of life.

Muslims are the main antagonists here, which is an oxymoron in itself. Islam instills in its people strong family values and great hospitality. The term Jihad doesn’t even directly mean go out and kill the non-Islam. It’s just a name given to any act done for Allah. So, if you’re a fatty, and you decide to go on a huge diet to lose 50kg, THAT could be tagged as a Jihad.

And I also have no problem with these people (not just the Muslims) coming here and wanting to maintain their own religion, customs and traditions. Hell, if I moved to China, I’d still celebrate Australia Day and Christmas, regardless of what their country did. But here’s the difference: I WOULDN’T demand that China change their ways to accommodate ME, I would EXPECT to live by THEIR laws, and I would expect to have to learn a fair amount of Chinese.

In Australia, things are getting ridiculous. And I intend to be that grumpy old man, sitting on the porch with his shotgun until the very end, fighting this crap. Australia is a Christian nation. I’m not exactly Christian myself, but I live by the rules set down by my country. In Australia, we celebrate Christmas and Easter as the birth and death of Christ respectively.

But because of “minority” groups (and listen up Prime Minister – Islam won’t be a “minority” for much longer), we are not allowed to put up Christmas decorations in our shopping centres. Our primary schools have been directed that they are not allowed to celebrate Christmas or Easter at school. The kids don’t get to make decorations, or colour in pictures of Santa, or make a basket for the Easter Bunny to deposit his eggs.

But it gets worse. Kindergartens are no longer allowed to make a Nativity. You can’t have “Secret Santa” anymore, it has to be “Secret Friends” now. Incidentally, that all sounds a little suspicious to me! And I’ve even heard discussion that thay are changing BC & AD to something else (Old Period and New Period, I think), because of the “Christian” undertones of BC & AD.

And why is all this happening? Because Australia doesn’t want to upset the non-Christians who come here – many of whom do so illegally by the way.

To this I say that Australia needs to get some balls. Whatever happened to the Australia that used to kick arse, instead of kiss it? I SAY, if you don’t like our rules, get out. What would happen if I flew to Afghanistan, tried to get in without a visa, then used THEIR legal system to FORCE them to let me stay and THEN demanded that the people around me speak English and that Afghanistan stops worshipping Allah in public – because it offends me.

Would they send me home? Or would they just take me out the back and shoot me?

Australia is a great country. And it has been made up of immigrants since the first white man came here. You’ll find we’re actually quite tolerant of all people, but not those who come here and force their will on us. Australia follows America’s lead on a lot of things, but for some reason we refuse to adopt the “Fuck you” attitude of the Yanks.

I REFUSE to pander to these groups. I will continue to say “Secret Santa” and I will continue to live my life the AUSTRALIAN way. And if I ever hear an immigrant whinge that we don’t do things like back home, I will happily tell them to leave. In fact, I’d probably even throw them a few dollars to help pay for their flight.

If you’ve read my Bah Humbug post, you’ll know that I’m a pagan. That means, I follow a non-Christian religion. In that post, I discuss how closed-minded Christian religion can be, and how open the pagans are.

If I was the Minister for Education, rather than “close down” religion, I’d insist that they teach ALL religions. Let the schools continue to celebrate Christmas and Easter, but let’s teach the kids about Ramadan, Hanukkah, Vesākha and God-forbid: Paganism.

Christian religion touts “Love thy neighbour” and they insist that they way to World Peace is tolerance. And yet we are prohibited from teaching our kids about all the different religions in Australia. Surely, if we educate our kids and expose them all the religious events they are going to encounter in their later years, they will understand WHY other religions do what they do, and be tolerant of them.

So what do you think? Are you an Aussie with the same thoughts as me? Do you think I’m an idiot? Are you an immigrant, struggling to maintain your own identity? Tell me what you think

Have you heard about my charity?

That’s right readers, I’m thinking of starting my own charity. It’s not to cure cancer – we have enough organisations working on that one. And it’s not to help starving children – again, there’s plenty already out there.

MY charity will be there to help those in need every day. They’re the people you see down the shops every day. They could be your neighbour, your workmate or even someone in your family.

And the biggest problem is that these poor souls don’t even realise they have a problem. I think maybe their friends and loved ones are a little hesitant to tell these people that they need help.

You know these people. And I know that when you see them, you wished you could help – and now you can. You don’t need to send me any money – I don’t want it. What I am going to need is…..mirrors. Yes, mirrors. And LOTS of them.

And with those mirrors, I can help those poor individuals out there who don’t yet own one. C’mon, you know what I’m talking about. That size 24 girl who thought she would like good in a denim mini skirt and crop top. Or that guy who’s wearing a pink singlet top with his fluorescent yellow board shorts.

And what about that girl that OBVIOUSLY got dressed in the dark. She’s wearing her favourite top, her favourite skirt or shorts and her favourite shoes. It’s just SUCH a pity that none of those items match.

If ONLY these people had a mirror. Then they could check themselves before they leave the house and maybe realise: “Hang on a sec. What was I thinking?”. If my charity helps only one of these people per month, it will be a success. Don’t you agree??

So if you support my charity idea, leave a comment or send me a message. I’ve told my workmates about my theory and they’re behind me 100%. And tell me what you think. Do you agree that only Asian girls can get away with wearing denim shorts over black tights? And really, even THEY only JUST get away with it, don’t they?

Customer Service

Finally, I have story that should set the standard for the Customer Service Text Book. This is what customer service is all about, and I would challenge all retailers in Australia to meet this standard.

Earlier in the year, we bought ourselves a brand new lounge suite from Dare Gallery here in Brisbane. It’s soft red leather, is a two and a half seater sofa with a chaise on the left side (as you look at it) and has a huge ottoman that’s about 1.5 metres long. The suite was delivered back in late May and in mid September we noticed that the leather was starting to crack.

We conditioned the chaise and started to use it a little less, but one Wednesday, one of my kids noticed that some of the stitching in the other seats was starting to come apart. I dragged out the receipt and rang Dare Gallery, expecting to encounter an argument over whose fault it was, or an accusation that we had done something to it.

I asked to speak to the manager and was put on to a man named Brendan. I calmly and politely informed him of the situation and told him that I was “quite angry” that we had spent so much money on this lounge which was now falling apart. He told me that the situation was “no good” and brought up the order details, describing the lounge.

He asked what had happened to the lounge and I told him. Again, all this was very polite – but stern. Brendan told me that he would arrange for one of the maintenance guys to call me and arrange to come and look at the lounge, but that from my description he thought they would probably replace the lounge. Once again, I expected things to drag out.

I received a call the next day (Thursday) from a guy called Charlie who asked if he cold drop by the next day and inspect the lounge between 1 and 3. I reckon the clock just hit 1:01 when he rang the doorbell. He came inside, spent about 5 minutes looking at the lounge and said he would recommend a replacement.

The weekend passed and I waited until Tuesday. I rang Dare Gallery who told me Brendan had a day off. This is where I expected everything to turn to poo. Andrea came on the line and I told her that I wanted to keep up the momentum on the issue. I explained what was going on and she brought up the order on her computer. “Oh,” she said. “We’ve already ordered you a new lounge.”

I was stunned to say the least. Andrea then told me that she would expect to receive the lounge at the store the following week and that we might get it delivered by that Friday. I was sceptical to say the least, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. She told me that she would ring when it arrived to arrange delivery.

Maybe I was pushing my luck, but I asked Andrea if the new lounge would be set up and the rubbish taken away, considering that this was a replacement. She said that it’s not normal practice to do that, but she would see what she could do.

The week went by without a call from Dare Gallery and we entered the next week, fast approaching Andrea’s deadline. The Friday came – and went – with no call, so I decided to call them on Monday to chase things up. Considering the original lounge took four weeks to make, I was surprised that we were promised a new one within only two weeks.

But I didn’t get a chance to wait until Monday. Charlie rang me on Saturday and asked if he could come by and deliver the new lounge on Tuesday between 10 and 12. I was stunned, but checked that my Fiance would be home to accept the delivery, and all was good. I asked Charlie if he was able to remove the rubbish and he said “Yep. You don’t need to worry about any of that. By the time I leave, you’ll just have a brand new lounge where the old one was”.

So today is Tuesday. At about 9:55, Charlie turned up with our new lounge. I got a text from my girl once he’d left stating that we had a new lounge and that Charlie had set it up and taken away the old lounge and all the rubbish. He even helped move the coffee table back into place.

So there it is. Exceptional customer service. Not only did Dare Gallery do everything that they said they would do, they did it when they said they would do it. And they obviously pushed our new lounge through as a priority construction. Neither the store nor Charlie could have been more helpful.

So thank you, Dare Gallery. Thank you for renewing my trust in Australian retail and actually looking after a customer. The message to the rest of you retailers out there is that now, not only have I told my work mates about the service Dare Gallery have provided, but I will shop there again myself AND I will recommend Dare Gallery to anyone that I speak to that is looking for furniture.

THAT is how you run a business. THAT is how you get repeat customers, and THAT is how you get NEW customers.

You can view their website here: daregallery.com.au Sure, they’re a bit pricey, but the quality of their wares is fantastic (despite our little problem) and they obviously know how to treat their customers.

Driving 101

All right Brisbanites, listen up. I am SICK of nearly being run off the road by busses, trucks and f**kwits on the phone. In the last week, I have nearly been hit by two busses and a truck (who were disobeying my rules below). So here’s some tips to follow:

Get off your phone. It’s that simple. It’s illegal and more than QUADRUPLES your chance of having an accident.

Stay in your lane. Seriously. They put those lines on the road for a reason. Pick ONE lane and stay in it. PLEASE!

Use your indicators. I have good reflexes, but honestly! If you need to change lanes, flick that little stick. It’s not hard. It won’t kill you. Just push it that one centimetre – and then everyone else will know what you’re about to do.

Do the speed limit, or get out of the right lane. If you’re car is broken, or you’re carrying 5 dozen eggs, or if you’re driving a Volvo – that’s fine. But don’t do it in the right lane. The LEFT lane in Australia is for people NOT doing the speed limit.

Don’t cut corners. When the road bends left or right, then stay in your lane as you veer. You are not Mark Skaife or Craig Lowndes. You don’t need to let your wheels go over the line into the next lane to get around the corner 1/1,000th of a second faster.

Anticipate the green light. It’s not a surprise, right? After it’s been red for a while, and then all the other traffic stops, chances are you’re about to get a green light. Don’t WAIT for it to turn green, finish applying your lipstick or put down your coffee before driving off. BE READY FOR IT. Most lights in Brisbane only let about 6 cars through these days. So you f**king around with your hair/nails/scrotum stops those of us who are paying attention from getting through the intersection.

This one’s more of a courtesy, but don’t stop in front of a driveway/sideroad/carpark. If you do that, then you will most likely prevent someone from turning right across traffic, and create a massive bank-up of traffic. So think about someone other than yourself for two seconds, and make space to let people get to where they’re going. You’d like it if THEY left space for YOU, right?

Oh – learn to merge. PLEASE! I’m begging you. Ever been on the Gateway/Pacific Motorway/Logan Road/Ipswich Rd and come to a complete stop right near an on-ramp? So have I. Why do you think that is? It’s because Brisbane drivers can’t merge. Not necessarily your fault, but PLEASE LEARN.

This is how simple it is: When you get on the on-ramp, you will see a speed limit sign. You need to be doing THAT speed when you get to the motorway. Don’t wait to get there before accelerating. Be AT SPEED when you get to the motorway. That way, other drivers will make MINOR adjustments to let you in.

The reason the traffic stops is because of those people who are entering a 100 kph zone, but doing 60 kph when they get there. Everyone has to hit the brakes to stop from ramming up your arse and before you know it, the Pacific Motorway becomes a carpark on Friday nights. So when you see that speed limit sign……FLOOR IT.

Minimalism???

OK – I’m not sure if this is the real term for what people are calling it, but it shits me. And it shits my Fiance, too.

This is the thing that it seems bogans are using to justify their inability to spell or display correct grammar. In one of my first posts, I talked about how I blame this kind of crap for the downfall of society. If you can’t write, you can’t speak. And that turns you into an inbred bogan.

This is what the above paragraph would look like if written by one of these inbreds:

this is the thing that it seems bogans are using to justify their inability to spell or display correct grammer. in one of my first posts i talked about how i blame this kind of crap for the downfall of society. if you can’t write you can’t speak. and that turns you into an inbred bogan.

Do you want to know the sad thing? That pathetic display of English is a GOOD example. Some blogs don’t bother with full stops, commas or apostrophes either. That would turn the above paragraph into nothing more than a jumble of words.

What it screams to me is: I’m lazy. I’m uneducated. I really couldn’t be f**ked taking pride in myself or my work.

The PROBLEM is that if people keep doing this crap, then young people will start to get used to it (as if they aren’t already), and before you know it, they start writing like that all the time. Pretty soon, those young people grow into adults, but they don’t change, because “they’ve always done it that way”, and then THEIR kids grow up not knowing any better. Before you know it, we all write and speak like we grew up in Bumfuck, Eygpt (sorry Tater).

If you can’t even manage to spell “I” correctly, how f**king lazy are you? When I come across a website or blog with text that bad, I close it immediately. I refuse to waste MY time working with a company or individual who can’t even be arsed to show me that they are professional and/or take pride in themselves.

So grow the F up Australia. Start learning to spell. Learn how to use commas – and more importantly, apostrophes, correctly. Know the difference between “your and you’re”, between “there, their and they’re” and definately between “then and than”. Here’s a quick lesson for some of you:

If one thing is big and another is small, you would say that one is bigger THAN the other. If you went to the movies and the shops on the weekend, you would say you went shopping THEN to the movies. GET IT RIGHT! It really isn’t that hard.