So the step-son came with us to Australia. We knew the rules. No kiwi can get any Centerlink, ever, full stop. Get a job. Or go home. Or deal drugs or something. Or sell your organs. Or service the liberal party orgy network. We knew it. The rules. We knew the Anzac spirit was a total cynical farce, a joyless, humourless, hackneyed cringe inducing circus, a gentrified rats nest. Anzac spirit , oh go away. For there is none. There is none. Australia completely and utterly shits on kiwis and they really truly do not care. They are proud of it actually. It is a flagrant self-congratulatory skat party - a mind-crushing bullock branding imbroglio. Take our tax every single minute of every single day. Keep taking it. Make it impossible to access our superannuation savings. In fact, hold onto it after we leave and keep accruing the interest. Its used to fund the liberal party bi-monthly sex-orgies. Tax us. Every work hour. With every heave-ho I am propping up your anglo-american ball sucking defense industry, your armies, navies, air force, your bomb squads, your stupid paranoid bomb defusing robots, your roads, your national broadband network, your unemployeable throngs, or one of them at least. I give him a name. His name is Kevin Mullholland, he is 27 years old and lives in Adelaide with his brother. My tax pays for his benefit. Kevin was abused by a local school teacher when he was 8. Consequentially, he developed a debilitating case of social anxiety. He wants to work but cannot leave the house without experiencing crushing panic attacks. He receives a disability allowance every week. I pay for it. And you know what? I'm proud to help Kevin. I'm proud of it. The libertarians would rather he just dropped dead, frankly.
But my stepson is forced to live off me and fester. His disabilities don't count. I have to look after him. No, no sense of civic dignity will be afforded to him. His self worth has been utterly decimated by the state, I've watched it. 2 suicide attempts in a year. Thats what they want. They want the New Zealanders utterly disempowered. They want us to drown in our our faeculence. They want us to just drop dead really. Or go to Jordan, I mean NZ.
Get a job then, loser. How hard can it be, Marion.
Anyway, i waltzed up the road in me high viz. Clearly, a hair cut is in order. Passers by question my mental capacity, or at least, i think they do.
....Oh yeah, if you don't like it, then 'bugger off' they all retort under their stinking australian breath. I'm sorry your libertarian plan didnt work, but don't take it out on me, Moses. Who - indeed, why would anyone go into business in this red tape saturated communistic workers utopia called Melbourne? I mean, whats actually in it for the company? Damn STAFF. Who needs 'em. Staff. Get the robots in. Get the robots to train the robots to build more robots. Then we'll have 100 percent unemployment. Which is perfect. Of course, no-one will have any money to purchase any commodities. But hey, only the strong should be allowed to survive. That filthy few with the old money. The rotten, illumined, bavarian money. Old white man money. Colostomy bag money. Penthouse suite money.