Dying with Dignity

Last month was another shocker. I was watching Australia’s Funniest Home Video’s, waiting for the Footy Show. I always look forward to seeing Sam Newman. It’s funny how a man who is so angry and distorted with the plastic surgeons craft could be so amusing. But just as I was about to reach over and grab another packet of ciggies I had a thought. The price of ciggies is up again. The do-gooders have made the standard packet about 35 bucks, and a bottle of beer, (cannot afford beer so I go the cask)  is unnafordable. At Aldi, the Albertson’s Reserve is good value at 8.99. They’ve got a special on, you can get six cans of Corale Baked Beans on 5.95, and I’ve been told that next week, Camp Pie in the 250 gram tins will be on special for 2.95, but there’s a limit of six cans per person. Still it’s something to look forward to.

Can’t afford to go to the doggies this week, and with the emphysema, it’s hard to get off the mobility scooter when I get to the pokies. I don’t gamble much, say half my pension cheque, and what I got when I left the Ford factory keeps the roof over my head. Still, I don’t go to Bingo as often as I used to and since the home invasion last week, I’ve been having these blackouts. The doctor said it was not a consequence of being struck over the head with a blunt instrument, more just the accumulative effects of alcohol abuse. Accumulative effect? The pompous bastard. What would he know? Every time some dumb prick wanders into his office he gets paid. Probably has a farm somewhere, were he can cleanse himself from dealing with the great unwashed and probably indulges in a secret love of Rhododendrons. Pompous Git.


Couldn’t afford to go to the granny though the Tiges got up. They reckon though I’ve been a member for 45 years the requirement to keep the ballot open meant I just missed out. No such bar for the corporates, but I spose that’s just the way footy is these days. You’ve gotta be in it to win it, and I aint had much winning since Elsie died and the kids have all moved off.

Still there’s a lot to celebrate. Though my pension has been docked by Centrelink and I cant get the taxi vouchers like I used to, there’s the bus that comes along every week and takes us to Northland. I might chat to the checkout chick at Coles, if there’s not a big queue. Other wise I’ll just sit on that chair opposite the entry and might chat to the security guard.

State government says we can die with dignity. I’m glad about that. Thought of knocking myself off last week when they stopped playing test pattern, and I thought, “That’s it”! It’s time to get the Bex and the Dettol out of the kitchen cabinet. But now the cricket season is on I can watch Channel Nines cricket commentary and die slowly. Glad though that people can now die with dignity. That would be nice.

One thought on “Dying with Dignity

  1. Euthanasia? Why’d you bother when our Lucky Country gives its oldies so much to hang on for! Just read through that shopping list the writer has just presented here (some pretty irresistible “Good Buy” reminders among that lot, wouldn’t you agree?).

    And good to see the ‘Guvmin’ keeping the wrinklies on their toes, as well. No time to start losing your hearing, eyesight of cognitive faculties – or not brushing up your computer skills – when they’re constantly cutting back on Centrelink staff and extending the call-waiting time. If they didn’t, all those decrepit welfare spongers would have completely drained the pockets of our hard-working ‘lifters’.

    What I say is: if you can’t get by on what you draw in – just use your initiative! Get off your bum and set up an off-shore tax account, instead of whinging helplessly. If others can do it, so can you…

    Sir Atney Emo

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