Beware the politics of men

With all this election rubbish going on here and in the USA, women should commit this to memory.

A recent survey of Trump supporters discovered the following:

     77 percent say it bothers them to come into contact with people who speak little or no English.
     81 percent say discrimination against whites is as big a problem as discrimination against minorities.
     77 percent say discrimination against Christians in the U.S. is a major problem.
     83 percent say the American way of life needs to be protected against foreign influences.
     83 percent say the values of Islam are at odds with America’s values and way of life.
     80 percent say immigrants constitute a burden on American society.
     68 percent say the country has changed mostly for the worse since the 1950s.
    72 percent say we need a leader who is willing to break some rules to set things right.


Why am I repeating something that does not concern our election?  Because after reading some of the election material of the minor parties, I mean meaner parties such as Family First, I could replace America with Australia.  Look at Morrisson, he feels discriminated against because of his religion. He seemingly has forgotten that he chose his religion, he wasn't born with it, his genes didn't jump up and down screaming I'm a religion, I'm a religion.  Unfortunately gay genes can't scream, they're too busy hiding in case some religious nut jumps up and down screaming, he's gay, he's gay.
How many Australians would say the values of Islam are at odds with us?
How many Australians would say immigrants constitute a burden on us?
How many Australians would say the Australian way of life (booze, utes and blowflies) needs to be protected against foreign influences?
I don't know about changing for the worse since the 50s since some of our politicians seem to be still living there.
As for a leader who is willing to break some rules to set things right, sorry but I don't think we can resurrect the Governor-General who thought he would be Queen.


It worries me the percentage of people who were willing to answer this survey in this fashion and who would answer the same way in Australia.

It brings me back to the Wild Woman Sisterhood, mothers should be running the country, the CWA would be better financial managers than who we have.  Women in business who are married with children can multi-task better than Parliament.  Most women are against war but we can still fly fighters and command Navy ships but we don't take killing lightly.  Women are probably the biggest change for the better since the 1950s.  One day we will take over the world when the men have finished experimenting with ruling with half a brain, that's not each, that's between them.

Some stuff I've pondered about and learned from

I don't like the cold, like frost and ice type cold.  Reasonable cold I can take.  My bones ache and I hate people who love it because they can go skiing.  I don't see the point in skiing.  You're going too fast to notice the scenery and it's cold when you break your leg in the snow.  You can see the wisdom I'm imparting to you already.

I don't really like tattoos  but I defend your right to deface perfectly good skin BUT today I saw what happens when tattoos go bad and run amok over wrinkly, scraggy arms. The art was alright but I couldn't read the book. The letters disappeared into crevices.   Before you tatt, think old.  Before you watch those captivating ink shows, think old and scraggy.  That lovely maiden down your arm will end up looking like a ferret  down a hole when you're old.

Fat diabetic people are not ruining the planet, politicians are.  Morons here decided to make us pay for blood testing strips using some survey that says watching your blood sugar every day doesn't help at all in managing Diabetes.  Funny thing, that has disappeared from the NDSS website.  I did watch Julie Bishop at the Press Club but had to turn it off when I wanted to throw something. I watched NBC news instead and got The Donald, I think his hair waved to me.  Looking at our mob, there's not one with a decent head of hair, hasn't been since Hawke.  And then I thought of Christopher Pyne with long hair, gruesome but then Dutton would look good, his head is the same back and front. Yes, he really is a two-faced bastard.

Footballers!  Eddie, really, you're joking in a crowd of blokes and the only one you can think of to drown in ice water is a woman who wasn't even there.  It's no good saying sorry, if you said it, you were thinking it and if you were thinking it, it was hatching in whatever you use for a brain.  Perhaps a drug test might be in order for football panelists?

Taxis, my favourite form of transport.  I have my regular drivers, they usually ask, home, pub or the Home and try not to be rough with my battered old walker.  But I had a snotty one on Sunday. Very pretty silver cab, black seats, immaculately dressed driver who looked down on me and said, "You have hair on your coat".  Well, yes, I'm wearing a black cloak and I own a white cat that is like a walking snow storm.  Shedding does not describe what this cat does with his fur.  White tumble weeds blow across the floor in every room.  And why did he feel he had to mention this?  His seats, his lovely black seats in his silver cab, I was going to sit on one and leave HAIR.  I told him if I couldn't get the hair off my cloak then it wouldn't transfer to his bloody seat.  He also hated my walker.  He didn't get a tip.  And when I looked back he had taken a sticky brush out of the glove box and was going over the seat. Snot.

I mentioned the cat, he's here and it's 5.32, 32 minutes past feeding time.  Sheds everywhere but never in the food dish, too busy taking his food out of his crystal dish and eating it off the floor.

Must control temper

Staggered off to see mother yesterday.  A bad night of waking and sleeping because my feet were hurting, well, one foot was hurting and the other decided to keep it company, misery loves company.
I finally rubbed some Voltaren into the foot and the pain gave up enough for me to sleep.  
At least it wasn't raining, just blue sky and chill to the bone wind, picked up some lunch and took the short cut through the car park and got a little stone in my shoe, the one holding the bad foot.  So it was mutter, mumble, swear and I just have to make it to the seat halfway down the street so I can take off the shoe.
Honestly going from someone skipping and tripping everywhere to relying on a walker to stay upright is a real pain but it helps a lot when I'm trying to beat an old lady to my seat.  Missed it, she's sitting down and doesn't look like moving, damn.  I might have to be polite and it's hard enough being polite to all the old bats at the Home.
Really must get my eyes checked.  As I get closer  I recognize the oldie in the fuzzy jumper and ugg boots, my sister. This is not the first time I've mistaken her for a bag lady with a trolley although the trolley was her art class essentials.  She spends about 20 minutes a week with mother and was sitting down because she saw me coming, apparently her eyes are better than mine.
I showed her a photo of my granddaughter then a photo that Queen Bitch of the Universe had posted on Facebook about how lovely it will be to hold her grandchild.  Did I get sympathy?  Not a bit, got told she didn't want to read anything about it and I really should move on and ignore the whole family.  Now that's a good idea and let's start with sisters.  So up she gets and off to art class still looking like a bag lady throwing her moderately wobbly fat arse from side to side and flopping in the ugg boots.  Unkind of me to think that there comes an age when one should really kick the platinum blonde long hair habit and a bit hypocritical since I'm two years older and still dyeing mine "Pilbura sunset".
It's the attitude that gets to me and make me want to smack her sideways into next Sunday. 
Even as children she would could get me to 'frothing at the mouth' stage and I did put my foot through a glass door trying to kick her to death.  
Must control temper until I find some stairs.

She still surprises me.

We were discussing the crocodile and shark attacks last week and mother says "I've held a crocodile."
It was a struggle but I did clang my jaw back into place.  There were no dates on these photos so I had to go by the clothes and the fact that she was in the Day Room when the Reptile Farm came to visit.  She must have been 82 when they dumped that crock in her lap and she was not impressed. Can't think where I was that day, hiding under a rock?
 

 And then a goanna impressed her not at all.  These were all a surprise to me and of course, she doesn't remember anything except they were horrible to touch and no, she didn't want to play with them.  Who in their right minds would bring reptiles to a high level care facility for the residents to look at and then put them on their laps.  

The turtle wasn't too bad but she remembered that its head moved all the time so she never knew where to put her fingers.  She's like me, if they were made of cake all would have been fine.

She refuses to leave her room now.  She hates seeing how the residents she knew have all gone down hill mentally and physically.  Up against them she looks like she might make 100.  Somebody kill me now.

Community notice.

I am tired and emotional and that's without the gin.

I hate this election and all who rode in on it.

They're all liars.

I am going to be a great grandmother.

And not one of the fucking family including the mother to be has bothered to tell me.

I lost a son, my granddaughters were taken away and now another child will never know who I am.

And they are a fucking God loving Heaven is ours sanctimonious Christian family.

Sometimes it's a pleasure to be a Pagan.

Always leave room for Karma

Peter Dutton
Member of the Australian House of Representatives
Office: Minister for Immigration and Border Protection since 2014

No, not defacing my blog by putting his ugly mug here.  But we all remember his snide remarks about the water lapping at small islands, don't we.

Sydney's storms this week.  

Feel something Dutton?

That's Karma, ripping your testicles off and stuffing them in your mouth.