MEMO

FROM: GOD

TO:EARTH

RE: EPIC FAIL

______________________________________________

Dear Earth,

For crying out loud, would you lot please stop fighting and just start to get along ?

Yes, I am looking at you India, but I am also looking at you Thailand, please don't think you can hide behind India. And don't think I don't know what the rest of you are up to - I'm God, remember?

Honestly, you lot drive me to distraction, I create you a lovely place to live in with a wonderful climate (admittedly the Ice Age was a little dull, but I'd been drinking) and what do you all do?

You immediately set about killing each other and systematically destroying the planet! And you've been doing it for centuries. I could have tolerated a couple of hundred years of bad behaviour, but this is ridiculous.

Have any of you lot heard of the word gratitude?

You're all behaving like a bunch of thoroughly spoilt little upstarts, and I've had enough of it.

If you lot do not get your shit together you will force me to instigate a solar system war, nothing like a little intergalactic warfare to make you work together as a team.

You have been warned.

Love,

God.
I am God, do not fuck with me.

P.S Do you like my tag line? Catchy, isn't it? J. Walter Thompson doesn't sit round doing nothing in heaven, you know.

A compliment.

The other morning I was walking to work and a woman, who was coming in the opposite direction (and definitely on a mission to get somewhere), said hello and complimented me on my dress.

Now this dress is a floral summer number, made out of the type material that my brother Sunshine would remark, 'Been flogging Great Aunt Beryl's cushions again, then?' It's retro design, made in France and possibly makes me look like I'm off to church in the fifties. And I absolutely love it, one of those dresses that puts a wee spring in my step.

Anyway, I thanked the woman for her compliment and continued on my walk to work.

But here's the thing.

She was wearing boots that were a little shinier and a little longer than these.

She had teamed them with teensy tiny wee shorts. I can't remember what top she was wearing, but her makeup had seen better days and she looked in desperate need of sleep and the cigarette she was smoking.

But it was kind of like the obese guy saying, 'Can I have four burgers, six scoops of chips and a diet coke?' Bad analogy, I know - but you get the picture ( I am poorly attempting to draw).

Regardless, I 've never had a compliment from a hooker before. I'm taking that and running with it.

A simple solution.

I was watching breakfast news yesterday and one of the presenters was announcing one of those stories that you always hear at the this time of year (along with 'how to not put on forty kilos at Christmas time), 'And coming up we have tips how to survive the office Christmas party.'

Call me crazy, but I thought it was quite simple, 'Don't get banjaxed and make a twat of yourself.'


Or, 'Don't get banjaxed if a jolly good banjaxing is likely to make you make a twat of yourself.'

And the silly shirt award goes to....

So John Key has had his first outing as PM at APEC in Lima Peru. So APEC, Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation is an annual get together of the heads of 21 Pacific Rim countries and over the course of a couple of days they natter about the state of the world, how they'd like to redecorate and all those pressing global issues.

Each year it's hosted by a different country and when it's your country's turn there is a whole lot of brouhaha involved. It's a bit like having the flashest relies over, the house gets tidied to within an inch of it's life and all the mess is hidden away in bottom drawers and jammed into wardrobes.

But being the shallow ditz that I am, I reckon that the most outstanding thing about APEC is when, on the final day, the country's traditional costumes are handed out for all the leaders to wear. Here's a wee sample.

This is what Chile pulled out in 2004.

The Australians dressed the leaders in drizabones and Akubra hats. Here are they sans hat. And I read a caption that accompanied this photo, 'APEC leaders get expensive raincoats while Asia Pacific people get screwed by climate change.'

And here is a shot of George in Vietnam looking like he's wondering why he's wearing Laura's dressing gown.

And I am particularly fond of men in bows, as was Korea's choice of costume in 2005.This year Peru gave out tan ponchos. Apparently, according to Kevin Rudd, they are very good at hiding guns.
And this is just so you can see just how fetching John Key looked in his poncho.

I have no idea why he is already talking about selling it off for charity.

Things you really shouldn't do....

....forget that your bench is actually a bench when you are standing on it cleaning fly shit off the wall.

Excess luggage

Air New Zealand have recently brought in new luggage regulations; first bag is free (we are talking up to twenty-five kg), second bag is $15, third is $ 50, forth and fifth are $150. Which means if you travel with a lot of gear - you are going to be FULLY SCREWED by excess luggage charges.

I am sure this won't really make the slightest bit of difference to those who regularly travel with five suitcases jammed full of designer outfits. However for those poor clods like me who (for work) travel with, oh, about a pajillion different pieces of luggage, budgets are going to be seriously slammed by these charges.

Gone are the days when the nice Air New Zealand lady would assign your excess luggage kilos to other passengers who had already checked in.

I have always advocated that they should make the travellers jump on the scales along with their luggage and just allocate an overall amount of kilos your person and your luggage combined can be. (Obviously I only say this because I am a short arse and know where I could be saving myself some money).

And then I read here that the Supreme Court of Canada has ruled that obese people have the right to two seats for the price of one on flights within Canada.

Which raised a lot of questions in my tiny brain. They included:

So if you're a fattie you can fly for free but if you're a workie, you can't?Could someone please explain the logic?

Would it be possible to hide excess luggage under an enormous frock and then waddle on board?

If obese people get two seats, do they get the extra meal?

What are the wider ramifications of this ruling? I.e does that mean alcoholics get an extra crack at the bar service?

Has this ruling just opened a whole can of whoopass?

Introducing...

So New Zealand's new prime minister got sworn in on Wednesday. That's him there with his wife, Bronagh and his two children- Max and his fifteen-year-old-daughter Stephie. It has to be said that, (based on a brief wide shot in a news story) in a sea of clothes and people that sort of collectively yawned, 'meh' Stephie stood out like an obsessive compulsive on an ashram.

(She's wearing Karen Walker, by the way).

I admire him for not saying, 'For god's sake, if you ever want me to be taken seriously as the leader of this country, lose the bat and the glasses.' Or maybe he did, and she ignored him.

Regardless, I admire her for her spunk and I like her style. That's a fifteen-year-old with 'tude.

Some days, ya just gotta count your blessings.

I am so pleased that paparazzi will never ever be interested in my life.

The fact that the jury was out for so long was making me a little twitchy, however...

...they have been found guilty.

Now, if someone could organise some commerical sized driers.....

Question

Now here's a story I heard in the weekend. It involved a crew that was working one of those ooky-spooky-hokum-let's-solve-the-crime-with-psychics shows. This show gets gets regularly slaughtered by T.V critics and at the country's media awards was the butt of more than one acceptance speech joke.

I was told they auditioned more than sixty psychics across Australia and New Zealand and the crew who work on it fully believe in it. Apparently, recently they were working with one of the psychics who told one of the guys that he had trouble with his prostate and he should go and get it checked out. He did as he was told and discovered that he had the very early stages of prostate cancer.

So process that information as you will, but if they can detect prostate cancer, why the hell can't anyone find Madeleine McCann?

Would Mick Jagger let his mother drive?

So Prince Charles turned sixty in the weekend.

Happy birthday Chuck.

It's kind of weird to think that he's five years younger than Mick Jagger.

But you have to feel for him, just a tad. I mean for one, he has to survive on a paltry sixteen million pounds a year but then, the real kicker is that Mummy won't let him do the job he was born to do.

Think about it, all his life he has been told, 'When you grow up, you shall be King.'

And sixty years later, he's still waiting. Do you think he wants to sidle up to his mother and whisper in her ear, 'Err, Mother, you know that, er, King-thing lark. Don't you think it's my turn now? You must be sick of it, surely.'

'No, dear, just a few more years, when you can prove you're really grown up.'

If I was first in line for the throne, I would totally understand my parents holding out on letting me take the top job because they would know that once in power I would immediately set about ordering that the Guards of Buckingham Palace incorporate a waddle into their changing of the guard routine and hiring Ricky Gervais to write my televised Christmas message.

But it doesn't appear that Chuck has the maturity of a seven year old, so I am a little bewildered as to why Queenie isn't budging on handing the mantle over.

If driving a taxi was the family business, Prince Charles is effectively driving around in the passenger seat, with his mother at the wheel. Cause let's be honest, if you're a bloke (who likes to drive) in your twenties and your mother is driving, you're always going to be a little bit uneasy about it, cause it's not that cool. So I'm picking that after a good forty years of sitting in the passenger seat, he's starting to feel like a little bit of a plonker.

But then again, if your mother has the power to have your head chopped off, I suppose you're not going to put up too much of a fight.

Hard day at the office

Yesterday involved, planes, boats, an island and these guys.

Today I am wondering where is the bus that ran me over.

P.S Did you know that they don't have eyelids so they clean their eyes by licking them?

Now that's a party trick.

Does anyone else get the feeling that Joan's plastic surgeon really hates her?

Um, Joan, Halloween Barbie called, and she'd like her face back.

The political rainbow

One of my 'Stralian cousins emailed me wondering why in Australia, New Zealand and the UK, the main conservative party is blue(ish in the case of the UK Conservatives) and that the centre lefties are red. But that in the USA the reverse is true.

Anyone have any idea?

And The Award For Ruling The Country For The Next Four Years Goes To....

So we went, we voted, we booted the ruling red party out of parliament and the other guys in. The Sunday paper informs me that it was always going to happen, a government hasn't secured a fourth term in New Zealand for nearly forty years. Anyway, guess that means one thing - they are going to be needing a lot of masking tape and cardboard boxes in Parliament this week.

I tried to not watch the election, I really did and it worked for, oh, about three minutes. It was kind of like watching a telethon. But it took a while to get started.

The coverage on TV1, 'I'm coming to you live from the National Party headquarters in wherever they are, and so far there's a strong media contingent and a big empty room with blue ribbons and balloons.'

Over on the other channel a teensy bit later, 'We're at the National Party HQ where John Key is expected to turn up at about 10.30. Not too many people here, TVNZ is over there and that's about it so far.' Empty rooms tend to be rather dull, until the party arrives.

I remember working an election, so fresh out of journalism school that the paint hadn't even dried and, at the end of the night, filing a report from the women's toilets of the community centre to the local radio station. Oh glamorous times. I attended both party's knees-ups to get comment from candidates and seem to remember the Labour Party party was a hell of a lot more lively. And they'd lost.

And it was mildly amusing turning on the tele last night and seeing one of the print journos who was also covering the area at the time(he'd done the journo course the year before me) was being employed as a political commentator for the night. Who'd a thought all those years ago, eh? Where we'd end up? Him being asked to politically commentate this election and me, um,.....pass the nuts. Oh, I really must stop being so ambitious.

But what stayed with me from that night was coming across a car accident on the way back to work. It was on the open road and there was just one car and it was upside down. The journo in the car ahead of me immediately went to the car, and I rang 111. Then a bleeding drunk guy asked to use my phone, I had to dial it for him cause that was beyond him at that stage. He radiated alcohol and his words kept colliding into each other. He also he did a sensational job of getting blood all over the work truck, which was white.

The people in the car weren't seriously hurt but they were moaning, drunk and trapped.

In what seemed like an age (but I am sure was only about ten minutes) people in vehicles with sirens and flashing lights arrived, and we were able to leave the scene.

I would be really happy if that is the only time in my life that I am one of the first on the scene of a car accident. It was really horrible, and there are two things I will never forget about that accident, the fear that people were going to be seriously hurt and that I wouldn't be able to do anything to help them.(Yup it's all about me). I think it is an innate human instinct to want to help another human in distress and it is really disempowering and scary to not be able to help. And I will never forget that smell of burning metal.

Anyway, back to what I started talking about. That's another election done and dusted. And you know what that means? We don't have to suffer through dreary political campaigns for three more years. Yip-freaking-yee.

From the niece files.....

My sister tells me that the four year old had been running around the house shouting and observing 'My echo keeps following me'.

Red, blue or rainbow?

So New Zealand goes to the polls tomorrow. Have to say, that when your country's election follows the American election by three days it does starkly highlight the differences between the two elections. Barack spent over a billion on his campaign, and John Key, the head of the National Party, well, today he's chartered a seventeen seater plane. And I would imagine that's his campaign budget shot to pieces.

When it comes to deciding who to vote for, I spend time considering parties' policies, the state of the economy, the personalities, my personal beliefs and then I cast my vote accordingly.

However, being the shallow, fickle person I am there are some things that will make me seriously consider if I should be voting for a candidate or not. A cardboard cutout of a waving candidate smiling with a blank look in their eyes that I have to drive by every single day, regardless of whether there is an election on, will not make me vote for them. It makes me want to take a gun and use their cardboard cutout for target practice.

People waving placards with a candidate's on it, on the island of very busy intersections, will not make me vote for them.

I really don't get the psychology of it at all, do these people think I am going to be standing in the polling booth thinking, 'Now, let me see, who shall I vote for this year? Hmmmm, red, blue, green or the other ones? Oh I know! I saw those people waving those signs at the intersection. That looked like fun, I'll vote for them, goodo!'

One thing I do like about elections is that they bring out all sorts of people out of the woodwork. Polling booth people watching is sensational, you're always guaranteed to see a whole lot of crazy.
I would be almost tempted to volunteer to do it, unfortunately the reality is that I am far too lazy to do anything apart from entertain the thought.

The morning after

Ten bucks says John McCain woke up this morning and thought, 'Phhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeew, what was I thinking? I am far too old and knackered to be running a country, let alone a big one.'

But judging by this ('A Vote For My Husband Is A Vote For Me Not Breaking Your Fucking Neck') Cindy McCain is going to be one busy lady for the next twenty years, or so.

Actually, twenty years may not even cut it out, she may have to pass the mantle to mini-McCains to get the job done.

Uh oh, expectations have been raised.

So yesterday I got to wake up to the anticipation of the Melbourne Cup.
Today, there's the 'Mercian election.
And tomorrow?

When Newsreaders go bad

This is Liberty Rose Templeman.

She is fifteen and had recently had the star role in her local high school's drama production.

Two years ago she and her parents and brother moved to New Zealand from England and settled in the small Northland tourist town of Kerikeri.
Now, Kerikeri is a beautiful little town - and home to some of New Zealand's most historic buildings (remember New Zealand is a very young country) and it has a population of around the six thousand mark.

A few months ago the Templeman family moved to Auckland where her father is a property valuer and yesterday Liberty was to start at her new school, Rangitoto High School.

Except she didn't - because she was murdered in the weekend.

She had travelled up to Kerikeri to spend the weekend with friends and was last seen about
7pm on Saturday when a friend left her outside Kerikeri High School.

She is believed to have been going to walk across the school grounds and the Kerikeri Domain to meet her boyfriend at the nearby New World supermarket, where he worked.

But she did not arrive and police discovered her body on Sunday evening lying face down in a local stream.

Police have not released details of how she died, but given that someone reported hearing screams coming from the area she was believed to have been, chances are her death was horrific and it will haunt her family, friends and the local Kerikeri community for the rest of their lives.

There hasn't been a murder in Kerikeri for twenty years.

Last night I was watching the late news and the newsreader asked the reporter in the field, 'So can you tell me, what is the mood of the town tonight?'

Excuse me, but did you really say what I thought you said?

Let me see, how many ways can I answer this, 'Well, Greg, on one hand they are having on a bit of a downer because it appears an innocent popular girl was slaughtered, but on the upside there was a third division Lotto ticket sold at the local dairy so, you know, swings and roundabouts.'

Greg, the murder of an innocent teenager just occurred in tiny wee tourist town, whaddaya think the mood will be like?

THEY WILL BE BRICKING IT. And feeling sick, I should imagine.

It's the equivalent of asking these poor girl's parents, 'How are you feeling?'

Shudder, shudder, shudder.

'And tonight on State the Bleeding Obvious at Ten, we will ask questions that you already know the answer of and we also have an uncanny gift making you squirm...'

I generally always watch the competition's news and last night's broadcast just reaffirmed my viewing preference.

An Economist, I am not.

I know everyone is banging on about the recession at the moment, and it seems that hourly we're on the brink of some world financial collapse or other.

Question: if the world economy does collapse, what will it sound like?

Being the naive Pollyanna that I am, I am always looking for silver linings or good news. And today I've found a piece that I am going to share.

(Insert name of a brainy man) recently analyzed 255 examples of recessions in 17 western economies between 1871 and 2006. Nearly 65% of them lasted for one year, with the majority of them being over in two.

I know this could be a one-in-a-hundred-year-type recession, but if you're going on the law of averages, chances are things will all be peachy by this time next year.

That's my predication and I'm sticking to it.

Sigh, sometimes is really good fun being stupid.

This man's glass is so half full.

Yesterday I was on a conference call with a guy I am working with at moment, 'How are you?' I asked as I joined the call.

'Oh well', he started cheerily, 'I've had a wee stroke since I saw you (I had a meeting with him last week), so I'm a bit weak down one side, can't see out of one eye, my hand doesn't work very well and I'm not allowed to drive for a month, apart from that from that I'm just fine!'

I suppose when your year includes open heart surgery, a stroke and your fortieth birthday - every day is a good one.