The Mumbai Attacks. Zimbabwean cholera outbreak. Thai political turmoil. 80 hour work week. Hannah Montana Pop Star electrical guitars.

They’ve been trying. One week away from my long overdue holiday, and I held off all thought to fall apart, despite the turbulence. Until last Friday. Walking through a shopping centre, towards my travel agent’s office, a 55cm tall Asian toddler decided to sidle up, smack my leg with a flying forearm, laugh in my face and stroll off. 

Gone. Broke the camel’s back. Launched into a contorted, long winded rhetoric rampage. Beaten by a midget infant. Christ. 

I know it’s been some time since I used a moment to drop a few lines, pay attention and poke shit at what’s going on in the world, but in all honesty, some of the last weeks have been the busiest I’ve seen ever. I’ve been gearing up for a trip to South East Asia, so it’s all been about getting stuck into work, tying off loose ends. Shit still happens, we all know that, but I simply haven’t had the time.  Example, a lot of people were waiting for me to drop something on the U.S elections, and as much as I liked  seeing the Civil Rights movement take what may be the final steps needed to achieve the ‘dream’ described 45 years ago, I don’t think I paid as much attention to it as everyone around me seemed to have. What got me the most was the massive bandwagon the ‘born again’ Humanauts were jumping on. Local boys and girls going absolutely for a politician in a foreign country, when most of our local pollies were going unnoticed, our own local elections flying completely under the radar, myself included. Change is good, Obama or Mcain, I don’t know enough about either to make a judgement. But for fucks sake, neither do you. Name the Premier of Victoria, the Mayor of Melbourne. Buh. They’re not celebrities. 

I’ve been planning my holiday for many months, probably as early as May of this year. Flying over a few select countries of South East Asia, I made my travel destinations known to those around me, but it wasn’t until a week ago people began to approach me with concern.

“I don’t think you should go overseas”, “It’s not safe”,“Things are going on”.  

Are you for real? “Terrorism, you know”. Excuse me, but terrorism struck in India. I’ll be travelling to South East Asia. Didn’t you just get back from London? What? Oh, they’ve already struck there, and won’t be going back? Please. Despite my Friday night raffle label, I’ve never won the lottery, so I think I’ll take my chances with a random insurgent hit. Back in S-11, Bali, London, I was taking empty public transport vessels everywhere when the pussies who are advising me to can my R&R were telling me to avoid train trips to the CBD. We forgot all about that didn’t we? Because the media discovered Mike Glandal, the CrazyFrog and Saddam’s capture. With Bush out, Hussein dead and Vitamin Water in surplus, shouldn’t we be 100%? Afraid to go outside because we might fall and not get up. Pathetic.  

Amidst the Land of Confusion, I began to have my own doubts. Until I started to see the cracks. “Terrorism in Thailand?” You idiots. It’s civil unrest. Political ACTION. PAD supporters/anti-Pad protestors, shutting down airports, storming Parliament. It’s what people do when they don’t like what is going down around them, not bend over and take it the way we do. This shit has been brewing for years and you’re catching up to it now? Why? Because some Aussies were ‘kept stranded’ in an airport a million miles away? People missed flights and were shuffled around till they could get another flight out. Perish the thought they had long life milk in their pantries that was dangerously close to expiration date.On the up, petrol’s finally worked its way down below the $1 mark. Great. Besides the fact that they’re thinking of introducing more tax measures to ensure the consumer pays the $1.50, like we all did when it first peaked. Any other country and heads would have rolled. Cars would have been lit on fire and rolled. 

 Why? Why is everyone on edge, anxiety ridden over what’s on the tubes? It came to me like a heart attack; 

Australian Idol has finished, Big Brother is finished, the footy’s over.  BOOYA. 

What else have they got to sell us? I taxed a paper off a work mate the other day to see if I could find any developing news on the Thai situation and torched the damn thing after seeing page 5. A nice high resolution photo of disgraced footy star Ben Cousins, relaxing on a balcony in Perth with a lady friend. Scraping the bottom of the barrel there, aren’t we? Relevance? He wasn’t drafted into a team for the 2009 AFL season. 381 are dead in Nigeria and THIS makes the full layout? Nobody knows about the Jos Riots in Nigeria, but everyone knows about Mumbai. Not taking away from the Mumbai disaster but Jesus, 381 die at their own hands, Christians and Muslims in local rioting and it barely scratched a mention. 

I guess I’m overtired, overcooked, fed up with half of it but over dealing with it. Read the Surgeon General’s sticker on your smokes before you demand I cancel a holiday because of a travel warning on an internet site. I don’t have to be funny every single time I say something. I don’t need to flood my website with humorous anecdotes. I won’t join your kitsch Facebook group. I’m not angry or sour; I simply don’t care about your issues anymore. I’ve got enough on my own agenda.

2008 has been the year of Extremes for me personally. A few people passed on, a few people joined us. Tha-D.com registered its first Financial Year. A car accident here, a pancake expedition there. 4:23pm Power Shits. I Heart Kenny Loggins tees. Vanillaroma car refreshners. It’s all good and Tha D still doesn’t give a fuck. 

This will probably be my last entry for 2008. I take this moment again to thank you all for your support, your emails and your underwear. There’s plenty on the agenda for 2009, but time is always of the essence. Should I get wiped out during a kamikaze bowel movement or the ever common electrical Erotica Apparatus mishap, I give the first three callers access to my archives, lint collection, urine chest and semen vials. 

A mate hopes the Thai people learn to love their new Prime Minister before we get there. I say they’re all waiting for Biff Armstrong to arrive.