Gherkin Street

By Milton Montgomery:

As you would know, I am a staunch defender of anti-discrimination. Provided I am being paid to do so.

Thus, I am duty bound to report some of the instances of discrimination that our society continues to allow. Some might even say “condone” or “pardon”. It really does depend on whether or not they heard you properly.

For a start, society tends to classify people as being “disabled” or “not disabled”. Or, as I like to call this latter group, “normal”. The trouble is, this is discriminatory to so many people within the disabled community, many of whom suffer the consequences of being more severely disabled than others.

For example, parking spaces. As you know I have previously pointed out the inequity of a disabled person being granted a parking space closer to the shops that a normal person. Particularly where those shops do not comprise prosthetic limb or wheelchair retailers.

However, have you ever stopped to consider just how unfair disabled parking spaces are on other handicapped people?

I have a client who is blind yet society will not afford him the luxury of a disabled parking space. As a consequence, he is forced to park his car wherever it comes to rest or ceases to function. Yet, another client of mine who is deaf can secure a premier parking position regardless of how loudly you yell him its unfair.

What about another client who has no limbs? She is surely more disabled than either of the former clients, yet she is unable to get a disabled parking sticker for herself. Nor can she drive, unless she is roped to a motorbike with the throttle stuck on full. Ironically, that is how she came to have no limbs in the first place.

Also ironically, as her lawyer I was able to get a disabled parking sticker for myself by masquerading as her carer. Just quietly, you can too if you send me $1000 in a self-addressed envelope.

Now don’t get all uppity about that, its hardly going to matter. It’s not like she would be up in arms about it if I told her. Besides, I can’t remember where I left her. It might have been in the Jacuzzi, come to think of it. I hope she can swim. Oops.

So think about it. Someone who is wheelchair bound but has used their outrageous compensation payout to modify their car can happily park their car in a disabled space but my client who is a mentally challenged, dwarf with narcolepsy cannot. Needless to say, he is quite grumpy. And dopey. And sleepy.

Similarly, if you drive your car with three disabled passengers, say, one with mental disabilities, one who was blind and one with Tourette’s syndrome, you cannot park in a disabled space either. What’s more, the person suffering Tourette’s will be most unhappy about it. Mind you, you will look like any normal vehicle in New Zealand but that is beside the point.

Its just plain unfair how society allows some disabled people superior access compared to others. I believe that if you are able enough to drive a car then you should have to park where everyone else does. If you are not able enough to drive a car then (and only then) should you be granted a disabled parking space.

That disabled parking space need not exist, or if so, it need not impede on others who drive cars by having that space near where they park. It could be a nice parking little space near their house for example. Perhaps in their garage? Perhaps it could exist only in their mind. It might be the only thing that does.

Either way, it’s a much fairer way to take care of the parking needs of those who are able and those who aren’t. We should all stand-up for our rights. Especially those who can.

By Red Dinger:

Sit down the lot of you and listen up, its time we got a few things straight!

For a start, we are a “football” not a “soccer” team. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. I know it’s confusing but the best way to remember is that most of the people that play our game are too poor to wear any socks, hence we don’t use “sock” as in “soccer”.

That is why our sport is so popular. You don’t even need shoes to play it. Lest of all an education. That’s the way we want it of course, do you think the legions of our fans would watch football if they knew of the alternatives?

Rule number 1. Now this is important. If any opposition player’s foot gets within half a meter – that’s 50cm – of your body please remember to drop to the ground and writhe in agony. I have told you before, it doesn’t matter whether it actually makes contact with you or hurts or not. That is what the fans come to see. Do you want them to go home unhappy by feeling less masculine than us? Not even your female fans want that! Both of them.

For all you attackers, if the opposition get too close inside their penalty box, please make sure you dive as high into the air as possible before you hit the ground in pain.

Seriously, last week some of you suffered some of the most horrendous impacts I've ever seen to your shins and not one of you even so much as grimaced. Please don’t throw away hundreds of years of tradition just because you think it’s unmanly. I've told you all before, if people wanted to see men playing sport then they wouldn’t watch football!

Rule number 2. Please stop scoring so many goals. One or two a match is fine but three? What are you thinking? The fans didn’t come to see goals scored. It ruins their whole day. If you keep scoring so many goals people will forget what the real purpose of our game is – penalty shoot-outs.

Oh that reminds me, when you do score a goal will you please stop walking modestly back to the centre line, limiting your celebration to the occasional shaking of hands. This is football people. Nobody wants to see that.

Why do you think we limit the number of goals? So people can look forward to new and exciting forms of celebrations. Taking off your shirt, funky dances, running or mincing away from your team-mates, fondling each other in a homosexual way– these are all acceptable forms of celebration. Come on people, like I told you before, just do what you do in the Mardi Gras parades.

Rule number 3. For the defenders, please remember your sole function is not to contest the ball. When the opposition decides to bring the ball near you please just stand on the spot and raise your arm as high into the air as possible. Please, do it like we practised. Don’t forget to yell “offside” as well.

Rule number 4. People, you will remember that when you all tried out for this sport only one of you was capable of catching a ball. That is why we put him in a different shirt to yours and gave him gloves so he wouldn’t damage his fingernail polish. He is called the goalie. Please remember that only he is allowed to pick up the ball.

I know that privately many of you have attempting the sensation of using more than just the basic skill set required to kick a ball. Please leave that to those better suited to you – the goalie. Oh, and every other sportsperson on the planet.

Rule number 5. Attitude. I'm sick of your attitude. In that last game, not one ref’s call was disputed by physical intimidation and screaming in their face, not one linesman was glared at and not one player complained after the game about the officials, “lack or respect”, being robbed or anything of that nature.

What the hell is going on? Don’t you understand what football is all about? It’s not about goals and winning. It’s about drama! For goodness sake people, football supporters would have nothing in their lives if it wasn’t for us so the least you could do is fill the void with some passion and controversy.

That’s another thing, some of you are still wearing the same haircuts, make-up and jewellery from the week before. Please remember to spice it up a bit for the fans, fans don’t want to see the same rubbish week in and week out – they get that from the game itself.

Oh, one last thing, some of you have been seen dating women who are not being described by the press as “vacuous”. Please desist.

Now get into the showers! Its time to start practice for next week’s big game.

By Milton Montgomery:

Your honour, we have listened to the Prosecution’s case against my client and I would like now to contest their allegations that he is a terrorist.

Now the Defence concedes that my client is indeed “not white” as the charges against him state. This however is not yet a crime, notwithstanding the Government’s Bill before the Senate.

Moreover we are prepared to accept that my client has a “funny name” and comes from “one of those countries that likes curries and other such un-Australian foods”. Again, we submit that the aforementioned Bill has not yet been approved.

Now as to the Prosecution’s claims that my client’s wife wears a hijab, we reiterate that the cloth is no-more than a hankie and that it is worn so because she has been suffering a terrible head-cold. Since puberty.

The Prosecution has also produced phone records showing a number of phone calls my client to India, to people the Prosecution maintains are “nothing more than evil, sadistic human beings trying to inflict pain on as many Australians as possible”. We do not deny any of this evidence but would like to point out that it is not against the law to speak to a Call Centre.

As to the more serious allegations, I'm sure you will remember the grandstanding display whereby the Prosecution produced a plastic bag containing some liquid and what appeared to be a fingernail which they went on to claim was all that remains of my client after his alleged suicide attack.

The Prosecution maintains that my client was identified by dental records yet they were unable to produce a single tooth. Well, a single tooth belonging to my client.

Moreover the dental records referred to by the Prosecution were from a dentist that only claimed to see seven patients last year, despite owning two houses and seventeen cars. I ask you, can a man who has two houses be trusted? What’s more, all the invoices issued by this dentist were to clients with such dubious names as “New Porsche” and “Yacht Payment”.

Notwithstanding this, you can clearly see sitting beside me a man that fits the definition that fits the Accused, to wit, “a man with a towel on his head”.

Now the Defence has alleged that it is unclear whether this man is the Accused because, as they said, “he could be any one of a thousand taxi drivers in Sydney”.

I ask you, isn’t that the point?

I also ask you, why would any man sit in the place of another accused of being a Terrorist? Even if it does appear that he has a large amount of cash in his top pocket and he keeps shouting out, “Will you hurry up, the meter is still running you know!” He doesn’t look comfortable and relaxed at all does he?

Now I know that even though you are all enjoying the sound of my voice, we really must conclude before the Department of Immigration comes to take my client away. Not to mention those gents from the RSPCA who are keen to remove all the kangaroos from this courtroom.

To conclude Your Honour, I would just like to say this about my client, may he rest in peace. Um, could you just ignore that last bit? Even if he is guilty of blowing himself up and killing thousands of others, may I remind you that he is not being accused of murder but terrorism?

May I also remind you that the man who blew himself up, my client or not, did so inside a bank?

May I also remind you that for several days afterwards, people partied long and hard in the street?

May I also remind you that the share price of the bank attacked went up?

I ask you Your Honour, if this man is indeed the Accused, is he really a terrorist?

The Defence rests.

By Red Dinger:

I am a great believer in the power of the mind.

Not just because the world needs more bent spoons. Although, bent spoons are great fun at a party. Its hilarious watching people try and use them to get their food. We used the power of the mind to bend some other implements until someone put out the eye of the person next to them with a fork.

Sorry about that, Mum. Still, the eye patch looks good. Much better than the fake thing you have to wear from cutting your own nose off.

The power of the mind is so much more than that. People can overcome great illnesses with will power.

Some people can even lose weight. Of course, they tend to lose a great deal less weight than the amount of extra fat being put on by those who watch them on TV.

Nevertheless, some of the greatest moments in history have been directly attributable to the power of the mind. Man walking on the moon for example. What incredible will power from all those people who actually convinced themselves that it happened.

What about Weapons of Mass Destruction? My sources tell me it took 7000 of the greatest US thinkers to come up with that excuse to get some oil. Um, I mean free Iraq.

Mind you, 7000 of the greatest US thinkers is equivalent to the mind power of a well trained New Zealand sheepdog.

Nevertheless, I have been spending many, many hours intensely concentrating by myself. The goal is to achieve enlightenment. Failing that, I'm aiming for a strong feeling of intoxication. Especially since the money ran out and our house is drier than something without any moisture in it.

Nevertheless, it seems to be working as I do feel a bit tipsy and many of the people near me are starting to appear more interesting. The gentlemen in white coats are very friendly too. When I am not using the power of the mind to make myself drunk I am imagining that they are just huge kernels of popcorn.

I haven’t perfected that yet. At least not judging by the scream one kernel made when I bit it.

The major problem I am facing is that others are using their willpower against me, to stop me from achieving my goals as it were. Every time I get into a deep trance I look over and see my wife burning holes into me with the power of her mind, a.k.a. a “derisory stare”.

She can use her mind to say things like “Mow the goddamn lawn!” or “At least put on some underwear, will you?” without even moving her lips.

I however am strong and will never this stop me. Never I say!

Ahem. Well, must go. I feel the power of my mind telling me to get dressed and mow the lawn.

Incredible thing the power of the mind. Amazing.

By Milton Montgomery:

I really want to thank you for the lovely birthday gifts you gave me.

Michael, thanks for the boat. I’m not sure you should have given me such a beautiful present as this dinghy. It sits so wonderfully in the water doesn’t it, even in the huge waves we first tested it? I discovered that it wouldn’t sink even when completely swamped, although I did have to bail water out for 27 hours until the seas abated.

I wouldn’t normally make a comment like this but given its such a gorgeous dinghy, do you think yo could speak to the retailer and ask whether it was meant to come with oars?

Jenny, thank you so much for the fishing rod, reel and tackle. Obviously you rarely go fishing or you would have known that it needed fishing line as well. Oh how we all laughed when we realised after you gave it to me!

David, thank you for the hip flask. I don’t think I have ever seen a bigger one. Why, I’ll bet you could put two gallons of whiskey in it if you wanted to. Funnily enough, you could also put two gallons of fresh water in it also I suspect. Its just a shame that there isn’t any. Well, there is plenty of sea water to put in it but then you cant drink sea water now can you?!

Lastly, I love these handcuffs you gave me John. It might be considered a bit kinky to give another man a pair of handcuffs but we are both heterosexual so I got the point. They are so realistic that without the key its nigh on impossible to get out of them, even if only one arm is locked in them and the other end attached to the dinghy.

It’s a pity you forgot to give me the key as well eh? I’m sure that was just an innocent oversight, even if it did look like you threw it into the ocean from where I was sitting. The eyes can play tricks on a man, especially with the tears I had welled up in mine as you sailed away in my 48 foot yacht and left me in the dinghy. My that was funny wasn’t it? Ah, so much laughter from you all!

That said, it really was lucky that I was such a “fat bastard” as you all said, even though I know it was in jest. Just look at me now, you see, I lost all those excess kilograms bailing water and otherwise languishing in the dinghy for days, dying of thirst. That meant I was able to slip my wrist out of the handcuffs eventually.

I suppose that might be hard for you to all understand my joy at that. After all, you are all so exasperatingly thin.

Anyway, I was found that with two free arms I was able to paddle in a forward direction, rather than in circles. That is how I found my way to that deserted island and eventual rescue, some three years later.

Again, I really loved those gifts, people. You are such thoughtful business partners, even after all that money we made together you still kept your sincerity.

That is why, despite the years, it really was the least that I could do to return the favour by buying those same gifts for you. Mind you, it took quite a while for me (and my hired mercenaries of course) to track you all down so that I could give them to you.

But now, as I stand here back on my 48 foot yacht watching you enjoy those same gifts in these terribly dangerous seas just as I did, I knew all those years of waiting for this moment were worth it.

All the very best my friends. As they say, “you really shouldn’t have!”

By Red Dinger:

Sit down, relax, Mr and Mrs Hawkinson. I know its intimidating having a priest such as myself coming around for a visit to determine whether your son is worthy of being baptised in my church. Just try to be yourselves.

Actually, I didn’t mean for you to remove your pants Mr Hawkinson. We only require that when we interview potential altar boys.

Now I am sure you are aware that our beloved Pope has declared that all other religions are “defective”. As a consequence, my superiors have been quite prescriptive in terms of what we will and wont allow in terms of admittance to our church.

Let me first say that it’s a good thing that your son isn’t black or he would have had no chance.

At the moment we are still baptising girls but I suspect that window of opportunity will close soon so if you are thinking of having another one you might want to hop to it, eh?

Of course, being celibate myself, I have no real idea of whether “hopping” is involved. I read somewhere than one of you hops on top of the other, which strikes me as a little odd, but then God works in mysterious ways they say.

Now I am pleased to say that your son meets the appropriate Aryan skull size and shape criteria so that’s a plus for you. I like the way you’ve tattooed “not to be touched until after marriage” on the boy’s private parts. Its also good that he is allergic to latex.

I am a bit worried about the size of your boy’s “special parts” though, that could lead him astray later in life. If we agree to baptise him you will need to ensure rigorous beatings throughout his childhood to keep his confidence low.

Now that leads me to the boy’s guilt complex. Thankfully I can see that by the number of times you have both been to confession and by the way you are wringing your hands that you have sufficient guilty consciences to pass on to your child.

That reminds me Mrs Hawkinson, you still owe me two Hail Mary’s for having impure thoughts about the mailman. Mr Hawkinson, you owe twenty Hail Mary’s for the same crime.

One last thing before I agree to baptise your son. Do you mind if we discuss the size of your offerings? Under the latest Papal plans, we have several excellent contracts available, some of which have monthly instalment options. We have also added credit card and BPay facilities.

As one of the richest institutions on this earth, not to mention some of the sexual abuse claims we’ve had to settle, we will be looking for a significantly higher offering from you both. You might want to do away with sponsoring those children in Africa to free up some extra cash.

Oh incidentally, I notice you have some New Age, non-denominational wall-hangings offering adages about love, peace and harmony. Would you mind taking them down please, I find them offensive given they have not been approved by the Papacy.

Well, that will be all for now. If you could just sign here.

Yes, I know its your cheque book that you are signing. Weren’t you paying attention earlier when I mentioned our faith being so wealthy? Plus, only we get to go to Heaven!