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  miggi 1:59 am on April 14, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  The Problem with Trains 

  Now I don’t want to come across as some frothing-at-the-mouth, no-shoe-wearing godforsaken hippy. I, unlike them, am well aware of the simple fact that if there were no coal or fossil fuels, society as we know it would grind to spectacular halt. Then there would be war, using sticks and rocks, it would be the Stone Age all over, except this time there won’t be any tin, copper or iron to save us from it.

  What I don’t understand is this. Why are there fucking freight trains crossing busy roads at peak hour on a Thursday morning? I find it absurd that I should have to factor a possible 5 minute wait at a rail crossing on my morning coffee run. I know what you’re all thinking. Miggi, get over it! I would if the inept sack of blithering fail we call government would build me a bridge! How fucking hard is it! I was in a goddamn third world country that had more bridges than a major city in Australia.

  That’s just the beginning of my gripe though. Perhaps my single most hated thing about these trains is that the boom gate goes down about 45 minutes before the train comes. I can illustrate this simply. The other day I went round the jolly ‘orner to get some pronto pasta and a coffee for the old ball ‘n chain (any more bait there and you’d have to call me Rex Hunt) and myself to have for lunch. On my way back, the boom gate swings down with what I’m sure would pass for a snide grin in boom gate circles. About two minutes later, still no train, and a fucking Harley pulls up beside me. So now, not only have I been sitting at a boom gate watching grass grow for 2 minutes for no apparent reason, but I can’t hear my tunes over this idiot’s stupidly loud (and in hindsight, awesome) exhaust. And I couldn’t shoot evils at him because, as a Harley rider, there is a chance he may shoot bullets back.

  About a minute after Mr. Nomad (yes, he was a Nomad) shows up, a train starts pulling past. Now I absolutely never exaggerate. In fact, I have been accused of being overly concerned with specifics. I am 97.5% certain that if you attached those trailers to an infirm old lady, she could drag them faster than that train (if you’re interested, Railcorp, I know a few infirm old ladies, going cheap!). 7 minutes later, I think everyone involved was starting to feel pretty sorry for the little engine that quite apparently couldn’t. Anyway, after sitting at the boom gate for 10 minutes waiting for the world’s slowest train and listening to the world’s most annoying Nomad, I finally got home and enjoyed delicious pasta and coffee. Unfortunately, the wife only got to enjoy half of her delicious coffee, because I spilled it on myself getting out of the car.

  

  Wipe that stupid grin off your face asshole.

  The other thing I hate about trains is when I get stopped at 10’oclock at night, so I can wait for the random passenger train carrying a junky, a blind bum and his dog. I mean what the fuck!? How do we have enough money to fund a train that nobody rides when we don’t have enough to build a goddamn bridge over the shitforsaken track? I would like to join my colleague (who will hopefully soon be subbing onto my site!) in suggesting that city rail suck a huge bag of dicks, and the council should do one thing right and invest in trams.

  Now that I have that off my chest, time to attend to some site related business.

  MIGGIS BLOG PSA:

  We here at Miggisblog.com would like to apologize for the sparsity of updates these past few months, with a heartfelt assurance that several shits were given. However, as many of you know, University can be a dirty, dirty whore at times. Rest assured that all of your request –a-rants are on the to-do list, however, we consider it poor form to return from such a long hiatus to rant about someone else’s issues, when we all know that mine are both more important and more interesting to everyone else. And yes I realize that I have seamlessly shifted from a group to an individual perspective, but that is our right.

  In other news, hopefully soon one of my long term conspirators will be doing more than terrifying hedge trimmers with his mighty manscape. Look out for it in the near-to-distant future.
   

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  miggi 1:58 am on February 23, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  Back in ‘Nam… 

  Howdy everyone! Guess who’s back from running Amok (lol) in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam? That’s right, me! Whatever did you do without me?

  In today’s rant, I’ll be putting the growing pile or request-a-rants in favor of a rant that compares South-East Asia (SEA) with Australia. I think you may be surprised at the result.

  The first major issue I would like to point out is the friendliness factor. Everywhere I went in SEA, every staff member was extremely polite and friendly (with the exception of customs officers, which is odd, because they are all friendly in Australia). I would be walking past a bar/restaurant/massage parlor/”massage” parlor and I would be offered high quality shit for nearly nothing. The staff all try so hard to make you happy, be you in a fancy Italian place or a dodgy street cart. Compare this to Australia, where most service industry staff have a chip on their shoulder so big it would send the Gobble-dock into cardiac arrest. It’s like the Target chick is doing you a favor by telling you where you can find that latest bit of redundant crap you simply must have. Maybe assholery increases with minimum wage, who the fuck knows?

  I’ll tell you who the fuck knows. I do. And the above assertion is both 100% correct and absolutely above exception.

  Whoever invented the term ‘charming colonial French architecture’ can just fuck right off. Take Vientiane for example. According to Lonely Planet, it’s this quaint, laid back slab of nirvana, which cute french building, and cobbled roads, and narry a fried rat to be seen. Complete shit. The houses may be French Colonial, but that’s only because the last people who did any maintenance on them is the French Colonists. I think the only thing the latest residents have accomplished is to spray feces on every exposed surface. Charming? Only if you like shit covered mustard.

  The biggest, most apparent difference between SEA and Australia is the traffic. Now, according to our guide, there are 5 million scooters in Ho Chi Minh City. That’s a shitload of scooters. And they all have a horn. And I reckon the average scooter spends 10% of the time with it’s horn on. That adds up to a whole cacophony of ‘up-yourses’. Except over there a horn isn’t used to tell people they are an asshole. A horn is simply a tool of communication. Quite often you are communicating your impression that someone greatly resembles a rectum, both in appearance and odor. However, sometimes you are just telling someone you are there, and should let you in, which they usually do. The net result was that, in spite of the huge quantity of traffic in HCMC, you very rarely come to a complete stop. It just works. I postulate 3 reasons.

  Reason 1: No dickhead government. The Vietnamese government is preoccupied with important things, like being corrupted, and has no time to tell people how to live every aspect of their lives.

  

  In ‘Nam, this Geezer would not be driving.

  Reason 2: No Geezers. Geezers seem to know their place in Vietnam. Be that the side of the road cooking delicious baked goods, driving boats or finally in the ground, they are not annoying everyone with their slowness.

  Reason 3: Young Mothers aren’t assholes. In the entire time I was in SEA, I only encountered Young Motherish behavior once (unless you count the huge amount of it I got via email from home). Young Mothers in SEA seem to realize what I though should be widely known and understood. Their child is not my problem.

  These three reasons combine to make a fast paced, hectic and ultimately effective traffic system. Sure they have more fatalities, but I see as a kind of modern day natural selection.

  But cheap beers and lethal cocktails aside, I don’t think I’ve ever been more happy to be anywhere than I was when I got back to Australia. For all the bullshit that goes on in this country, I still reckon it’s the best place to be.
   
• 

  miggi 1:57 am on December 19, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  The problem with Uni. 

  Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to another exciting an action packed rant, care of Miggi! In today’s episode, we will be administering to the first of a few request-a-rants received. The message went a-something, a-like this.

  “Please rant about the university lecturers and the money we give”.

  Can do!

  University is a pain in the ass. The pursuit of academia is time consuming and in many cases completely irrelevant to the job that a graduate desires to do. I mean why the fuck should I have to go listen to some frothing at the mouth dyed red haired hag spew gibberish and buzzwords for six fucking months in a marketing course, when I have no interest in marketing, beyond taking the piss.

  University almost completely misses the point these days. It doesn’t prepare you for work, and it increasingly isn’t even pretending to. University is a place to go to discover, not to learn, and our bullshit idiot government is trying to make it something it isn’t. Half the shit you have to do at uni would be better done using a combination of practical learning at tafe, combined with on-the-job training. It’s ridiculous to think that more than half of my degree has been composed of subjects that I had to do, and that maybe one year in my three year degree has been relevant to my eventual career.

  Now we move onto the bureaucracy of uni. This is without a doubt the shittiest part of the whole experience. You have to fill in a form to scratch your ass. Then, in order to find the person who the form has to go to, you have to go through the standard 3.5 days of calling people, emailing and ritual eyelid-nailing in order to find this person. This person will then probably attempt to tell you that it isn’t their responsibility, and they would much rather go back to playing farmville. And that’s to say nothing of the lecturers. I’ve hinted before at my personal dissatisfaction with some of my lecturers, but lecturers as a whole have one major issue going on.

  Some people pay up to $30,000 a year to study. Consider that sum for a moment. If it’s a 3 year course, that’s $90,000. That’s a fuckload of coin, and the job you get at the end is gonna have to be pretty fucking spectacular in order for it to be even close on worthwhile, especially considering during the three years you are gonna be dirt poor and busy as a motherfucker. And the lecturers seem to forget this. They seem to forget that students are customers. We pay for their services. And the whole institution is designed to make you feel like they’re doing you the favour. They are not doing us a favour. They are not gifting their prodigious intellects (scoff). We are paying through the nose, ass, and many other bodily orifices.

  This isn’t to say that all lecturers are bad. I have had some truely exceptional people teach me while I’ve been at uni. I have also had some complete and utter ass-hats, and you wonder, when a man sits in a 300 person theatre talking about his mates ugly wife, insulting Asians, and generally talking a lot of shit, how does this man slip through the net. To say that the uni staff tree needs to be trimmed is an understatement. It needs to be chainsawed, uprooted, re-planted, chainsawed again and then probably set on fire, just in case. It is buckling under the weight of it’s own ineptitude, and continues to expect students to foot the bill.
   
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  miggi 1:57 am on December 12, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  Triple J is not for Hipsters, so fuck off. 

  I’ve had about enough of ill-informed subculture snobs attempting to stereotype my beloved Triple J into a radio station that represents some minority or another. It seems that these days, every single idiot thinks that Triple J is for hipsters, a statement which hipsters themselves embrace, and this certainly doesn’t help.

  I’ll start with a brief summary of what a hipster is for those of you who don’t know.

  The first thing about defining hipster sub-culture is that it is, like any sub-culture, difficult to define. But it is perhaps more difficult than usual because the hipster movement, according to various commentators (all of which can be found easily with a Google search), is not really a culture unto itself, like say metal or goth, but an amalgamation of elements of certain, generally marginalized subcultures. That is to say, hipster culture is a parasite on culture in general. It absorbs and consumes elements of other cultures and pretends that it is unique and creative, when in fact it is a spin-off of unique and creative cultures.

  I’ll now delve into my personal opinions on hipster culture. I believe that hipster culture represents a desire to wear something, listen to something, be something. This desire comes about not because of a personal desire, or because it a reflection of personal tastes, but because of a perception that the particular image being adopted is cool, edgy or hip. So, unlike other, more genuine subcultures, hipster is not so much about expression as it is about adoption. Your weedy, soft skinned faggot wannabes with their absurd haircuts, ‘vintage’ store bought ray bans and designer ‘alternative’ clothes are what hipster culture is all about. Some stupid hipster bitch with a flowery headband and a denim diaper. The look in general is meticulously crafted to appear sloppy. I don’t care if you are wearing a vintage fluoro singlet, if it takes you more than 10 minutes to get ready, you have put in effort, and it will always be obvious. If it was bought in a store, chances are it was mass produced in a factory in the Asia-pacific, and it is not a unique reflection of your loathing for consumerism. In fact it is more a generic reflection of your attempt to appear to loath consumerism, while at the same time being part of it. To quote some woman on wikipedia, hipster culture is about ‘conforming to non-conformity’. It’s not about being unique, it’s about being regulation different. Which brings me to the topic of today.

  

  You are not a Beautiful and Unique Snowflake

  In a recent blog by a friend of mine it is a asserted that Triple J represents the hipster path as an alternative to mainstream pop culture. While I agree with much of what is said in that blog, this is one point that I am seeing come up more and more, and to any non-hipster who also listens to Triple J, it is obviously false. Hipsters have adopted Triple J because it is perceived by them to represent the most edgy alternative between radio stations, and this is probably true enough. However, most Triple J listeners tune in for genuine reasons. I personally enjoy the mix of alternative, metal, hip hop and EDM that I hear on the J. I like that every Tuesday afternoon I get some metal. Every Friday I get a DJ set. I like that Triple J promotes and distributes music that might not otherwise be heard. There are no commercials. You don’t need to bleed for your art in order for it to be good, and indeed bleeding for your art does not make it good. Different music serves different purposes, and if you can’t appreciate that, then you are more narrow minded than a faggot hipster. For every ridiculously shit hipster band that gets air time on Triple J, there are over 9000 awesome new tunes that get pumped out, because Triple plays EVERYTHING. And the presenters know their fucking shit. Hoagy is a metal god. Nina Las Vegas is an EDM genius (although her diction reminds me of Microsoft Sam).

  I think hipster culture is struggling to maintain it’s edgy status. More and more pop songs feature undeniably hipster elements. Hopefully soon, hipster will be fully integrated into the main stream, and then will probably die and become old once the ADHD infused attention span of pop culture wrings every last ounce of life out of it.

  So fuck off hipsters, you don’t get to claim something that belongs to everyone.
   
• 

  miggi 1:56 am on December 5, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  Wikileaks… 

  For those of you who don’t pay attention to anything going on around you, the latest fiasco to grip the western world is this massive cache of supposedly classified government intelligence that has fallen into the hands of well-known whistle-blower wikileaks. Now, for various reasons, this has caused an absolute shitstorm. Governments, through the media, are calling for Julian Assange’s head.

  I have a lot of problems with both sides of this bullshit. I’m gonna start by flaming governments, because that is really one of my favorite things to do.

  In a democracy, a government is supposed to be accountable to the public for it’s actions. A metaphor best illustrates this point. Imagine if I, the great and illustrious Miggi, were to give you a hackey sack, a cupcake, and a right to take an arbitrary amount of my income. Furthermore, I give you the right to act as my agent, your voice is my voice, your opinions my opinions, your impressive crotch-pump my impressive crotch-pump. In exchange for that, I demand that you look after the hackey sack, share the cupcake, and spend my money in a way that is generally beneficial for me. Also, I demand that you don’t be a complete ass-hat, talking pseudo religious garbage while wearing the Miggi hat. If you violate these terms, I have the right to nominate another representative of Miggi, hopefully with superior crotch-pumping skills.

  This is more or less what a democratic government is supposed to be. We give our government taxes and the power to run our country, and in return, they don’t fuck it up completely. But to go back to the above metaphor, imagine if I, Miggi, had no real way of knowing what you were doing. My hackey sack is broken, you gave my cupcake to some obese slob, you spent all my tax on overseas holidays and you talk ridiculous garbage on my behalf, and I can’t find out unless you tell me.

  One of the great benefits of a site like wikileaks is that it gives citizens of a country the power to find out what their government doesn’t want them to know, which is one of the reasons that governments hate it. Our Prime Minister does not have the right to have international shit-talking sessions with the President of the US, behind closed doors where no one can see. Coverups are one of the oldest tricks in the democratic government books, a way for a government to blind the voters to the truth under a veil of national security.

  Fuck off, I say. National security is my security, and I will be fucked if I’m gonna trust some Judas ranga hag and her coterie of sycophants to make the best decision for me. News flash, you barely got elected, you have no right to go gunning up against a country who it is in our best economic and ‘”not-get-bombed-the-shit-out-of” interests to be friends with. And you especially have no right to do this under the guise of national security, keeping voters in the dark. Wouldn’t it be funny if the government blocked access to the site? Because then everyone in the world would have access to the information, except the people who have the right to know it. It would certainly show voters where governmental priorities lie (hint: less in national security, more in personal ass-covering).

  So this Julian Assange guy, he gets hold of a bunch of this shit that governments don’t want us to know. Good one! He posts it on the internet, where everyone can see it. Derp! Because broadcasting the bullshit penis-measuring that our elected representatives do without our knowledge is a fucking excellent way prevent bombing-the-shit-out-of-ness (It’s a word, look it up). But I guess that’s the price you pay, if a government is going to be completely accountable to it’s citizens, it’s also going to be completely accountable to the world.

  

  Julian Assange, most successful troll ever.

  Another thing that I find particularly hilarious is that now all of a sudden, Julian Assange is public enemy number one. He’s suddenly a rapist, murderer, smuggler, embezzler, and is considered to be solely responsible for 9/11, the Oklahoman bombings, and the assassination of JFK. Because ultimately, most rational people are at least partially happy that governments have finally been made accountable for the under the table bullshit that happens on our behalf, so the originator must be demonized, accused of so many different crimes that everyone, everywhere will find a reason to hate him. How long until the US declares are war on Julian Assange, and invades the whole world, bombing numerous civilian locales in a bid to flush out this notorious terrorist/war criminal/time traveler?

  Governments are just pissy because the age of information just took the jam out of their doughnut in a fucking massive way. And Julian Assange is a just a stupid bastard who managed to seriously stick it to some pretty big men. And we the voters? Well, maybe you should read some of the shit on the website next time you go to the polling booth, assuming our government doesn’t censor it between now and then.

  Thus ends a fairly serious Miggi’s Blog rant. For those of you who don’t know, we have a new website, which is fucking heaps sick. You can like Miggi’s Blog on facebook, or you can follow me on twitter. You can also request a rant (by using the request a rant feature at the top of the page), or contact me directly at miggi@miggisblog.com. Hell, I might even reply.
   
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  miggi 1:55 am on December 4, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  This is a test 

  Let’s see if Fishy’s skillz are as leet as he claims. Probably not.
   
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  miggi 1:54 am on October 22, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  A Wild Website Appears 

  Imagine my surprise when I jump on Miggisblog.com before work to find a new banner on my page. Excellent times. In other news, look out for a facebook page, affiliates and our new ‘request-a-rant’ feature, coming soon!
   
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  miggi 1:53 am on October 21, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  What the fuck is wrong with advertising these days…. 

  So I’m not a big TV watcher, but let’s just say I’ve been known to watch the odd episode of Good News Week. I also don’t mind the morning the show (not the one with Koche, that guy sucks).

  So I get up at the crack of 10 am the other day, go out and turn on the TV, thinking I’ll watch some idiot box while I chow down on some glorious Coco-Pops O’s, which are the best breakfast cereal since someone realized that overcooked bread and milk is an awesome combination. My brain is immediately assaulted with the following scenario.

  I see 3 women in a kitchen (so far so good right? RIGHT?). They are discussing having a bake sale for some reason. I thought it was a movie, albeit with terrible acting. Then one woman says “Why does (insert generic middle-aged woman name here) need a fund raiser?”. The other, we’ll call her Agnes, replies “Because her husband died and they didn’t have funeral insurance”. Funeral insurance. For reals. This ad is completely fucked. Here I am thinking I’m watching some lame assed day time movie which is no way related to insurance of any variety, and in a segue straight out of the book of Anna, it turns out that I’m being sold funeral insurance. Because if someone’s husband/pet/wife dies, the thing they are most concerned about is money for a funeral. Worst case scenario, dig hole, deposit body, fill hole. However, by the look of the kitchen in which this bake sale was happening, these guys probably have more than 10 grand in the old rainy day fund.

  Queue next story. This one happened a little later in the day. Very similar scenario, except this time I’m setting up to chow down some leftover pizza. I turn on the TV. Another crap daytime movie. Woman A (why is it always women?) asks Woman B how Woman C’s Husband is, she heard he fell and broke his leg or some shit. A casually informs B that C’s husband has cancer. I’m like OMG GRIPPING DRAMA. Then B points out that C’s husband does not have income insurance. Shit ad. Cancer effects one in three people. The lack of subtlety of these ads is completely fucked. Anyone who sees these ads will be so completely consumed by righteous fury that the thought of purchasing the product does not even register. Either that or they have been made so stupid and placid by the constant barrage of bullshit advertising that they instead think “Fuck I’d better pay some stupid amount of money to protect my income, in case I get sick. I couldn’t possibly survive like all the people who got sick before the invention of income protection.”

  As an aside, I tried to get some information about the actual pricing structure of these policies. Before they would give me an estimated quote, they wanted a whole bunch of details, of which many have no bearing whatsoever on my probability of getting sick or injured. Needless to say, I CBF.

  So now, every time I turn on the TV, I automatically assume that anything I see is trying sell me insurance. People these days are so completely overinsured that it is ridiculous, and I’ll tell you why. Our social consciousness has evolved to the point that we are paranoid cowards, convinced that every conceivable force in the universe is out to get us, and terrified of what will happen when it catches us. I have two kinds of insurance, CTP and contents. If I had a little more money, I’d have health, and maybe comprehensive car. You don’t need funeral insurance, save some fucking money. You don’t need income protection, save some money.

  I am sick of being sold shit that I don’t need. Every time I turn on my TV I see more and more desperate attempts to sell more and more redundant shit. “Fight the 7 signs of aging”, because everyone who fights against getting old wins. A coke ad that is in absolutely no way related to coke. Holden month (fuck off). The only good ads are for vices (beer ads are awesome, and so is that new Quarter Pounder one) and charities. But finding them amidst the suffocating detritus of grocery stores and swivel sweepers means that the good messages hardly ever get sent, and it’s just a barrage of useless information about useless products. So I extend a heartfelt bird to the advertising industry, and thank the god of the interweb that anything I can get on TV I can on the internet, without having to put up with advertisers bullshit in the mean time.

  Here’s an example of a good ad.

  For fucks sake, it’s not rocket science. Make an ad funny, compelling, random, give it some kind of hook. Tits don’t sell things anymore. Neither do situations. Nor demonstrations. Anyone with half a brain automatically assumes everything they see and hear on television is bullshit, and they are largely correct in that assumption. So give them a reason to remember the ad beyond fury.
   
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  miggi 1:52 am on September 17, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  Watch this Space, or not. 

  Hey all,

  Miggi’s Blog will very soon be changing. And by very soon, I mean at some stage in the near-to-distant future, a shortish longish time away. There will be a new banner. Also, Miggi’s Blog will soon be conducting it’s very first opinion poll. I’m very excite.

  Anyway, for those of you who don’t know, Richie and Karlianne got married yesterday, and despite a bit of an early finish, the quality of hangover this morning is pretty high, so I’m going to give the wedding an A.

  All the best to the married couple!
   
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  miggi 1:51 am on September 16, 2010 Permalink | Reply  

  Holden Month? Fuck off. 

  I was watching the TV the other day ( or I think I may have been listening from the other room) when I heard some of the hugest bullshit I’ve heard come out a marketting think-tank since i-snack 2.0.

  To quote the website (I refuse to expose myself to the ad again, even for the sake of artistic integrity):

  All the big occasions get a day: Christmas Day, Australia Day… even the Queen gets one for her birthday. Some occasions are so big they need more than a day.

  That’s why we’re making the month of September, officially Holden Month.

  Where to begin. I’ll tell you where I’ll begin. It’s in the second part, where Holden, for some stupid reason, thinks it has the authority to put it’s shitty lion stamp on the whole month of September. Who died and made Holden in charge of that shit? What’s next? Ford February? Piss off. Ford February would be better, actually, because at least alliteration is cool.

  The idiots at Holden were all like “What should name our next pissweak attempt to sell our garbage pieces of barely functional engineering disaster?” At this stage, the trained monkey, who runs marketing at Holden, threw feces about the place, and miraculously, when viewed from a certain angle, the pattern in the poo said “Name September Holden Month.” There was much rejoicing.

  

  Head Marketer at Holden, Chumbawumba.

  Second thing I hate about this ad, as I hate about all Holden ads, is the sound. This smooth assed motherfucker with his “I melt the ladies” voice, stupid ambling music in the background, it makes me feel like I’m watching Gone With The Wind. Except a little bit gayer. You’re selling me a car, not a romantic dinner for two on a boat in the mediteranean being serenaded by Burt Bacherach while over 9000 shooting stars play in the sky overhead.

  But the final, absolute nail in the coffin for this ad is that it compares itself to not one, but three public holidays. All three of the days mentioned are awesome for their own reasons. Christmas, a chance to eat heaps, get free shit and have a week off to recover. The Queens Birthday, which honestly feels like a day off for no reason since no one really gives a shit about the Queen anymore. And finally, Australia day. The holiest of holys. A chance to get blind drunk, build a massive man-tower in the pool, and then have a sicky the next day, because that’s the way we Aussies roll. Australia day holds a special place in the heart of all Aussies. That this comparison hasn’t caused immediate uproar is a disgrace.

  I think I have pretty conclusively argued that this ad is complete bullshit. If Holden sells one car in September, it will probably be because some idiot hasn’t seen any of the ads, and got told by his mate in the dicky’s with the southern cross tatoo that “Holdens are heaps sick ay”. No wonder Holden doesn’t make any money. When your marketing department is run by a shit-throwing monkey, and your target market is broke bogans, times are bound to get hard.