With apologies to the excellent Peachy, and their (I’m not sure of pronouns anymore) thread on dry July, which I plan to destroy later today, I thought we can share some stories from our life, work experience, or interactions that may cause the effect “hold my beer and watch this shit” type of a response.

So, recently, I had to do some community consultation in my line of work. Naturally, there were a few of us in the car, you know, to save the planet and conserve the natural resources. All of 20 people turned up over 4 hours, so it was a success, and then we had a steak sanga on the way back that was in the running for the best country state sanga, but lost.

On the way to the consultation, I dazzled my staff with quirky stories from my previous life, which explains why the drive back was so, how would one put it, peaceful. Yeah, that’s the word!

I invite you to share your stories, I have at least five, but will start with one, most dramatic.

In my real life, not being a state dictator, I am an engineer in all things civil. I have built things that google maps show you to this day. So, when the call came from Australia, I responded, and the job was to rejuvenate the aging irrigation network of Victoria, the bread basket, the SPC Ardmona and Campbell soup home.

So I get hired, over the phone, fly to Melbourne from the USA, land on Thursday, get a rental car that has a steering wheel on the wrong side, drive to a hotel in the CBD, have a sleep, wake up next afternoon (jet lag) to meet the new boss, we go out on the town for a pint, 7 or 8 hours alter he bails, and I go back to the hotel.

Next morning (Saturday), I wake, check out, get my Camry, do the most idiotic thing in the history of mankind, where you have to go left to turn right, get out of the Melbourne CBD and head north. Destination: Shepparton. I am watching for a Lake Victoria to turn off at, see a dry mudhole, guess that must be it, turn off and voila! There is my apartment. So I get the keys in the mailbox, enter, turn on AC, TV, and try to settle in.

The TV had the lawnbowls finals, and some football thing. The AC cooled me down to 35C, as outside was 47C. So I decided to get some food, drove (should have walked, would have been faster) into town, and it was all shut! Except for ALDI and First Choice. At the former, I failed to get a shopping cart, not having a gold coin to release one. Mind you, I lived in a place where 24-hour Wal-Mart was a feature. At the latter, I decided to pay homage to the local flavour, so I got Victoria Bitter. Don’t even….

Here I am, sitting in a hot fucking apartment, drinking shit beer, thinking, how did it all go so wrong so fast? So the phone rings. One of my project managers decided to extend an olive branch and take me out for a feed and a bottle, so we go. Outside is thick. Smoky, pungent, hazy.

My PM, (still love ya’ Bob) takes me to the most Australian restaurant, and we get a bottle of Penfolds and I get a lamb dish, as you would, being new and all. And then I look up to Bob and ask, what’s up with all the smoke? And Bob goes, did you not watch TV? I say I did, but lawnbolls was on, and it sucked ass. And then he says, you, boy, is lucky, if you would have left Melbourne 30 minutes later, you’d be dead.

Date was 7 February 2009. Black Saturday.

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Last edited 1 year ago by Counterfiat

There I was in January 2006, motoring slowly down Interstate 40 in the middle of the USA after a long day at work fixing a broken system. My efforts had been successful, so I was feeling pleased with myself, and looking forward to a shower and dinner.

It was mid winter and a blizzard had arrived with me the previous night, so there was about 3 feet of snow on the ground and a blasting gale. The “feels like” temperature was probably around minus 30 and the road was covered in ice and snow.

I was driving slowly because of the conditions as were all the other cars and trucks around me. Then, a crazy man came roaring up the entrance ramp to my right, gunned it to overtake me and swerved violently in front of me. He swerved so hard that he lost control and started to go through a 360 spin only a few feet in front of me. I thought “I’m fucked” and braced for the impact, and then by some amazing miracle he spun out of my path to my left, impacted the concrete crash barrier and burst into flames.

I had a semi up my arse so I didn’t dare touch the brakes…I drove back to my hotel, shaking and with my jaw hanging open. I never found out what happened to the other driver. It was the closest shave I think I’ve ever had in more than 40 years behind the wheel.


I was working in Buttfuck Texas, and I went out to the hotel carpark one morning and the carpark of the adjacent hotel was full of flashing blue lights. A young woman had been assaulted in the carpark, dragged up to her room, raped and murdered. Her room on the end of that hotel was about 15m from my room on the end of my hotel. She’d been killed while I was watching TV next door. It was the last time I stayed there.

On my next trip, a young woman was murdered and her body dumped out the back of the small pub me and the other guys used to meet at for beers after work. I stopped drinking there after that.


Do you mean the cops never found their bodies?

Lazer Eyes

I once got the zipper on my jeans caught in my foreskin.
Called for help and they cut my jeans apart and left the zipper hanging off my knob.


Not sure what this thread is about but this is hilarious

25% jump in the number of grifters that’s for sure


Yes. My ex workplace has a blue eyed, pale skinned, blonde haired HR staff member with an elite private school background who discovered that she was a proud Nunganunga woman when she was in year 11. She’s been milking it for all its worth ever since. The fawning over her by her colleagues was astonishing, when she’s clearly just running a scam.

Glad to be done with all that shit.


How hard is it to get on to this grift ?

my son is quite dark skinned through my mother’s line , and I think he could pass as a quarter caste

What steps do I take


He has to identify and in cases where he’s required to “prove” aboriginality, he may have to be able to demonstrate community acceptance

The legal definition of Abo now doesn’t require any ancestry whatsoever, just identification and if required demonstrated community approval

Maybe try bribing an elder with some smokes and grog


As a Dubbo local you seem well placed to facilitate the exchange

maybe you could set up a business

sort of like a migration agent


Side hustle! Its the EZFKA way!!


Step 1: Next weekend links – acknowledge the traditional owners of the land
Step 2: ???
Step 3: Profit!


Man I’d love to but getting smashed at work at the moment. I don’t get enough government cheese is my problem, gotta make wages every month… you know how it is.


Carpet bagging whites claiming privileges we bestow on indigenous peoples. Glad some genuine blackfella’s are starting to speak up and call them out. I sent a link to Steve Sailer – he’s noted this phenomenon for a while:

In my new column, I review how Australia has overcome its long-lasting problem with Aboriginal underachievement: by making it illegal for whites to make fun of other whites for claiming to be Aborigines:


I checked some of the links from that article. Those blonde grifters are just like my ex colleague, as they complain about blonde grifters pretending to be black.

A fly in your ointment

This wasn’t really as good as the tegular movie recommendations