What would Jesus do?: “Give the entire NZ population a slice of $35 M bangers”

What would I do with eight dollars and seventy five cents? Gosh. I never really thought about it. The mind boggles with the possibilities.

But you know what I would really like? What would really make me…happy. If I could just…dream. And 25c was no object. Just between you and me (because we are being silly). I would buy…. really, cool, blue stretchy gloves. Yay! Those would be hreat(sic). Because they are nice gloves. And even though I am slightly above a medium they have more stretch… if necessary.

$35m is such a  done number. Somali pirates were doing it ages ago.

British Post office employees were winning it years ago.

Nintendo blocked that number of dirty Internet sites just a couple of months ago. (lame)

And that number of computer nerds were playing games of killing each other for fun just a couple of weeks ago.

But $8.75. It dribbles off the tongue like 17 and half bags of jet planes. It offends Turkish people like their bench mark interest rate. 8.75 organises one’s activities and use of time like no other.8.75  can split a shit load of logs-ideal personal or professional use. Great. (I thought Amazon only sold books?) Never mind.

I could buy ummm let me think. Oo, I know, a Vintage Royal Albert Daffodil Pattern Trio Set. Classy. For no other reason than the combination of the words daffodil and Albert make me a little giddy.

Just think of the possibilities. Who needs champagne-soaked bus tours, paying off debts or donating to charity? Who needs to become the family favourite by flinging your second cousin a couple of m bangers? You will need none of that, especially if you show up with your single bid of $8.75 on a brand, spanking new, top of the line (in 1978) vivace 200 photocopier. Two words. Photo. Copy.

Possibilities people.

What would you do?


What the jury didn’t hear: David Bain has Swine Flu

David Bain has been revealed as the mastermind behind the world wide swine flu epidemic.

Recently released evidence from the high profile murder trial suggests that Mr Bain contracted swine flu the morning his entire family was murdered.

The Supreme Court did not allow the jury to hear the evidence because it thought it would unfairly prejudice the case. The evidence relates to a 111 call recorded at the time of the killings. A police officer said he could hear “a faint oinking” down the phone line. Experts say “just fill in the gaps.”

But a source close to Joe Karam suggests there may be a more pressing issue at hand. “Bain basically contracted the virus about 15 years ago and then went on a systematic but highly calculated rampage of spreading the swine flu as far and wide as possible,” the source said.

The source could not confirm or deny whether or not Mr Bain achieved this feat during his paper round. However travel experts say it would be impressive if Mr Bain was able to travel to and fro, willy nilly from Mexico, where the virus began, whilst still being gainfully employed by the Otago Daily Times’ circulation division.

The Ministry of Health today announced Mr Bain’s tentacles had reached as far as Mozambique, India and even Australia. “But the latter is of no concern to us,” a ministry spokesperson said.

What is of concern that not only did Mr Bain spread the flu but it seems he carries the key to its eradication. Researchers from Britain’s Oxford University have been looking into a possibility that the destruction of the swine flu host would cause the spread of the virus to end. “Basically get Bain, and the flu is over,” said senior researcher Dr Cornelius Hodgepodge.

Now police are concerned that there might be an outbreak of disgruntled, amateur lawyers, judge-jury-executioners and crime scene investigators who will pick up anything in sight, most likely a pitch fork, and storm the house where Bain is living, with burning torches.

A spokesperson for the New Zealand fire service said not only did that pose a severe fire risk but said the incident would highlight the importance of smoke alarms. “Remember to get them checked and the batteries replaced. Oh and don’t drink and fry.”

Swine flu law expert Dr Robert Rey said it was unlikely, however, that Bain would fry for the crime. “Basically there is no law covering swine flu so any action that was undertaken under a law that does not exist precludes the accused from any action under the New Zealand and indeed the world courts,” Dr Rey said.

He also said it was dangerous to start throwing around unsubstantiated claims from the media and supposed experts who he described all as idiots with nothing better to do with their time than make up stupid stories about ridiculous things. “Just stop it,” Dr Rey said.

So I did.

Living without Bain


Apparently there is a fine line between defamation and hilarity. But if we can’t laugh at Bain whatever will we do with ourselves. Now the trial of our time is over what do people expect? He has been the subject of dinner party banter for the last 15 years and now we are being denied that go-to conversational material!

The Bain has excited us and divided us. United us, confounded us and yes, inspired us. David Bain is kind like apartheid, but less racially motivated. Like the assassination of JFK, without the government conspiracy (watch this space). Our very own OJ Simpson, but skinny, white and with no real past, present or future as a superstar of American Football. But he can play golf. Where did he learn that swing? In prison? While studying “engineering”? Ok, maybe it is not so hard to believe.

Yes Mr. Bain is Britney Spears off the rails without the undies. But Bain definitely wore undies, or at least bike shorts. Apparently they were green and pink fluro lycra. Sweet. He certainly is New Zealand’s definitive fashion victim.bain1

For a long time the brutal murder of five people on a crisp winter morning could be nailed down to the collective mood evoked by a single, brightly coloured woolen jumper. A terrible jumper mind you but one that screamed, quite inappropriately, “did your mummy buy you that?”

But no. Apparently he designed it himself.

Poor Bain. He gets everyone excited. Even Wendy Petrie.

Which is great because the fist pump video, when paused at the right moment, makes her look like WillFerrell in Wedding Crashers.


I used to think she was an android.

Brought here from the planet Xenu to deliver poignant, informative and faux humorous links to weathermen in the field. Now Petrie is kinda cool.

But did he do it? Shhh… Did he do it?

Well I have already been circulated an email with all the incriminating circumstantial evidence put in neat numerical order. Put in one long list it looks impressive but hardly conclusive. For a conclusion, for closure, we must, of course, look to a more sage source. For Bain, I think the entire case rests on the comments of one work colleague: “I’m not going to get into whether he is half Vulcan or half human or vice versa. What I will say is what I said back then. Just look at his ears.” 74123451PW009_David_Bain_Re

But don’t put it on Facebook.

Placenta Casserole

Up a hill, a little bit off the beaten track, a particularly bedraggled looking Australian had a blanket slung across his chest. There was something inside. It was two-weeks-old and looked like an Italian bread loaf with wrinkles. The Australian was well pleased, if a little tired. For those two weeks he hadn’t slept particularly well.
“Have you got one?” he asked.
A blanket? Sure I have a few, of varying sizes, colours and textures.
I looked down again at the loaf. Oh a kid? Me? I did a double take and looked down at my attire. White Globe sneakers, skatie sneakers, jeans, stubble. Like cool lazy-growth stubble. Put them all together and surely the Australian could see I was way too young and hip to have a kid.
“No way,” I said. “No chance.”
But looking closer at the Australian, he was pretty cool too. He also had the faint outline of lazy-growth stubble on his chin and was sporting aviator sunglasses. He was so chilled out I was surprised he made it up the hill at all. So that was concerning.
I was equally surprised that I had even made it up there. I hadn’t slept well either, but for entirely different reasons. I became hungover mid-sleep at about 1am.
But the Australian was well pleased, if a little tired.
What was he doing there? Well he was burying his two-week-old son’s placenta on a hill. As you do. Quite a strange gesture but one that attracted about 100 people, all with their various means of transporting a placenta up a hill – glad zip-lock bags, cake tins, bio-hazard liners. Just the usual.
Not the usual for me, however. I don’t usually spend my Saturday mornings observing the ritualistic burial of people’s bodily excretions, no matter how sacred.
Apparently after birth you have the choice in New Zealand. “Would you like to keep the placenta?”
“Nah, that’s ok I think we are just fine with the kid.”
“But you can keep it?”
“What, like, for free?”
So people do, and then apparently keep them in their freezers for 10 years. Right next to the hokey pokey and last weeks lasagna. Fresh.
But there is supposedly a sacredness about it. Returning part of something of that child back to the earth and creating a life long link with the land.
But no matter how beautiful the moment might have been, I couldn’t help but notice the concerning amount of dogs there were on the hill that day. Spaniels, terriers. Retrievers. All very hungry for something nutritious and delicious. Ask a baby. They will say their placenta was both for approximately nine months.