Daily Diatribe

The SAS trooper facing misconduct charges over allegedly kicking a dead Indonesian militiaman has had the idiotic charges dropped.

The matter was first raised after NZ personnel complained that a member of the Australian SAS had kicked one of the corpses.

Obviously training of the New Zealand military no longer includes making corpses “safe” by ensuring they have not been booby-trapped.

Of course the Australian media leapt on this story; even though the Army was doing its dirty work in East Timor, they couldn’t let a chance go by to have a chop at those dastardly nazis in the green suits.

None of the puff-buckets, self-important toads and whining lefties that make up the media establishment in Australia had the bollocks to actually do anything about their pet cause of East Timor, so the PBI (Poor Bloody Infantry) had to traipse off to this shit-hole to kick the Indonesians out, but even though they were there at the behest of the left, they can’t resist an opportunity to have a chop at any level of the ADF.

Meanwhile, a very capable soldier has had his name blackened and his career put on hold to satisfy the sensibilities of dribbling fucktards in draughty terrace houses; I’m not in the Army, so I’m not bound by their codes of behaviour- I would like to drop live grenades down the front of every drawstrung-panted Free East Timor activist, rabid pacifist and general hippy deadshit- the lot of you wouldn’t make what the SAS pops out of their bums.

In a display of wonderful taste and Sino/Japanese reconcilliation, Japanese perverts have celebrated the anniversary of the Rape of Nanking with a mass orgy with Chinese tarts.

A similar celebration is now pegged for the 6th of August, when a number of USAF personnel will drop pods of napalm on downtown Hiroshima to celebrate its temperature elevation on this day in 1945.

A new survey has found that you are much more likely to wind up in a maximum security twilight home if you are a wowser than if you don’t mind a beer and a fight. This is no real surprise, as you are more likely to drown on your own vomit, be beaten to death by Samoan bouncers or run over by Somali taxi drivers if you enjoy a refreshing ale or two than if you are in chapel on the weekend.

Non-drinkers don’t actually live any longer, it just seems longer.

This of course is a bonus for participants in Wednesday night’s Briz Blog Beer Bash, as while we are ensconsed in the bar at the Storey Bridge pub, we are unlikely to be picked up by the Geezer Squad.

Bjorn Lomborg is drawing the crabs in today’s Op/Ed in the “Australian”, extolling the benefits of global warming.

Prepare for the next venue on his Australian speaking tour to be besieged by an unruly mob with lit torches, plenty of facial warts and terrible clothes- not at all dissimilar to the crowd that Quasimodo tipped boiling oil and large rocks on in “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”.

Tomorrow should be a giggle; Paul “The Ice-Age Cometh” Erlich is set to reply- prepare for lots of mass deaths, starvation and spontaneous combustion.

In another classy first, a Las Vegas funeral parlour is offering gambling themed services for the recently expired punter.

It is yet to be seen if the idea takes off, but if it does there is a whole realm of further development of this concept; the pinnacle would be to have the deceased (suitably embalmed) upright in the casket, with a poker machine mechanism installed internally- mourners could stick a buck in his gob, pull his arm and he would pay out from has clacker.

Now THAT’S classy.

Five members of the Tongan Rugby Union Squad for next month’s World Cup have been refused visas by Australian Immigration authorities in Nuku’alofa.

The refusal is believed to be related to an overstay by the players following a rugby tour of New Zealand; if this is the case, most of the All Black squad should be refused entry, as 90% of the team hail from South Pacific islands, not the Shakey Isles, and have yet to return to Tonga, Samoa and the Cook Islands after being black-birded by NZRFU scouts.

Jeebus- knocking back women and kids running away from the Taliban is one thing, but rugby players? DIMEA need sorting out, and fast.
(Especially if there’s any decent half-backs and fly-halfs amongst them).

Former pin-up boy of the enviro-Chicken Little set, Russian President Vladimir Putin, has queered his stutus overnight by saying that they may not rush into ratifying the Kyoto Treaty.

The facially-pierced and rat-tail hairdo set may see a bit of carbon dioxide being the most important thing in the world (besides scoring some killer Nimbin heads, and avoiding paid work/baths/thought processes based on reason), but to someone who is trying to run a country whicjh is currently being run by Tartar gangsters and former KGB thugs bitter about losing their electrode monopoly, a quite possibly fictional theory tends to take a lower priority.

I would have thought carbon emmissions (except for the hideous output of some of the brown coal and lignite fired power stations in the east) would be the least of the worries associated with the Russkies, what with Caesium, Strontium and a few other nasty isotopes being vented from their ageing (and Soviet built) nuclear power stations around the place- but to kick up a fuss about that would be to question the whole Soviet system; not something the left is likely to do in a hurry.

A Brisbane hero has attacked and killed a neighbour’s labrador/kelpie cross for barking at his daughter, beating it to death with a baseball bat.

If this arsehole doesn’t get slotted, there is no justice; maybe he needs a bit of baseball bat therapy.

Gutless bastard.

Tooling home on Friday night in peak-hour traffic, I came across something that made my bitter old heart glad; weaving through traffic was an old bodgie (complete with pudding-bowl helmet) astride an immaculte MV Agusta 125, and giving it some stick as well.

Goes to show that not all coffin-dodgers are whiny welfare whingers, bitching about Medicare and the paucity of their pensions.
Good on you, mate! I hope to also emulate the ideals expressed by the Ulysses Motorcycle Club, and “grow old disgracefully”.

The Australian Left has copped it from three directions in the “Australian” today- Ross Terrill from Harvard gives it to them in the neck over their backward-looking attitudes, Ian Buruma looks at the duplicity of the Left’s views on different places and regimes, and Glen Milne jabs several pointy objects into Richard Butler and Jim Bacon’s well padded and malodourous dates.

The Oz is turning into a pretty decent paper these days- a lot of the more rabid apparatchiks seem to have been purged (except for the Phat Phuck, but I think he’s there to make up for the paper not having a cartoon page), and the editorial direction seems more in keeping with a serious national broadsheet rather than an undergraduate publication.

All they need to do is to flog Bill Leak off to the SMH where he belongs- a failing flagship of a dying publisher infested with moonbats and drunks.