BAN THE BOOM BOOM

Who are the neanderthals that have proclaimed themselves the god's of music?? Why does everyone have to be punished with thier BOOM BOOM (Or bass as intelligent people know it )music??Has thier brain been so very damaged by the pulsating Boom Boom that they can't tell the difference between REAL music and a thud that is sooo loud it causes heart palpitations? Could it be the younger generation (MORONS) have come up with a way of getting rid of the oldies by causing heart failure on a massive scale??Is good music not good music when it is played at an intelligent level? It definately is NOT good music when the boom boom is played so loud it drowns out every other instrument. What is the point? Why not just hit themselves continually over thier empty little heads repeatedly and dance to the echo??

MORONS

The idiot that lives behind us waits until 7PM every night and then decides it's time to kill a few more brain cells by bassing himself to death. It aggravates me to the point where I want to go on a diet just so I can jump the fence and pull his ugly little ears off!!!!

And then of course we have the one cell animals (teenage boys) that society has to suffe,r that think it makes them look like men to drive at the speed of light while playing thier Boom Boom so frigging loud it vibrates every thing it passes on thier way to the city of stupidity !!!Everybody give a clap for the cretins

What these puny little wanna be's don't realise is that the rest of the population thinks they are DICKWADS !!!I want to form a oldie posse....round up the dickwad boom boom people who do not have a musical bone in thier underdeveloped bodies.....and tie them to a pole in the middle of a public square. Then said cretins would have to listen...at full blast...for 4 hours or until we break them......ABBA......BEETHOVEN......THE BAYCITY ROLLERS......HELEN REDDY and every other bit of music that will make them squirm with pain and cry for mercy.Anybody with me here.

THE MOTHER OF INVENTION

My mother has never had money but she always found a way to scratch by, even if it meant everybody else thought her a ideas were a bit errrr.......NUTS.She has also had to find different ways to keep a roof over our heads and sometimes that involved using a bit of inguenity and lying. Over the years she has opened many many bank accounts in every name imaginable so that she could get credit when she needed to. As a result of this she probably has about 5 different identities. When she dies we will have to buy 5 different burial plots and then figure out which one to put her in !!!!Talk about organised crime. We figure either she will end up in an old people's home or in geriatric lockdown in jail. It's a nightmare when we need to ring her at work, the phone rings, someone answers with "can I help you" and you realise you don't know who to ask for. And then there is the "walkabout" she does on a regular basis. While others frantically call the police when the older people in the family go missing we always know where to find her. Our search party need look no further than the local TAB, there she will be perched on a stool in front of a TV watching the horseraces and flicking through her mountian of tickets trying to see if she has won her first million.And let's talk about improvising shall we? Mum has always loved working in her garden when she is not betting on a horse. Years ago mum decided to dig up half the back yard because she just had to have a fish pond (the beginning of her pond empire) and then carefully lowering an old bathtub into the crater that she had created, then realising of course "we need fish".Now most people would go to a pet shop but not Ma Baker.....it was much easier to carry a plastic bag with her and knock off a few from front yards on her way home from work one night. This has become an obsession...we now have 4 ponds (at last count) and a population of fish and frogs to rival the Amazon.By far the biggest legacy my mother will leave me is to make sure you plan where to plant your trees. Let me explain. Don't ever think a tree is so very pretty you just have to have it, and then proceed to plop it into the first bit of dirt you see. There was a twig that took mum's fancy years ago, she planted it, it grew out instead of up, and now everytime I have to walk up the backyard it reaches over and tries to poke both my eyes out !!!!And then we have the wonderful palm tree that she planted right near the bottom step of the back verandah as a cute little clump. Why did she not realise that it would grow 20 feet tall and house evil bats. They sit in the murderous tree and use me as target practice with the nuts they pick off the top of the tree if I dare walk underneath it. "CHEEKY". And then the littlest sibling decided that because the murderous tree was now a very big problem she would help out by pouring a chemical strong enough to use in a nucleur war over the tree. Well done...it worked....but it is dying from the top down !!!!! I was nearly beheaded the other day by a falling branch big enought to cover up my very big self.The bat's are pissed off and the tree is trying to kill me !!!!So in rounding out this tribute to the many idenities that are my mother here are a few of her famous homemaking tips for you out there...Want a new sofa but money's short? No worries, just saw it in half and there you have it...two new chairs (yes she really did saw a lounge in half).Help out the wildlife. Take in a feral cat, love it to death...even if it rips the ankles out of the rest of the family ( we all bear the scars of her much loved pussy cat)Always have a roll of chicken wire handy. Need an attractive new fence? Get out the chicken wire.Need a new gate? Get out the chicken wire.Want a playpen for the kids? Chicken wire again.Yes life's an adventure with the "Einstien of home improvement". If ever I have my own home the fences will be made of wood and the back yard will be a sea of green........AND NOTHING ELSE.