The Pat Raw Chronicles (cont’d)

Koala PatIf you’re new to Haught and haven’t yet got onto the official Haught Facebook page, you might not know who Pat Raw is. This makes you either very fortunate or very unfortunate, depending on how much you enjoy hearing about others’ bowel movements, D-grade sporting achievements and sex lives.

You can find out all about him by having a squizz at my introduction to Pat from August.

If you are familiar with Pat, but haven’t been keeping up with his latest hijinks, here are the highlights from August til the end of November, taken directly from Facebook:

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Benign to Five on knowing when to fold ’em

Fishslice1

Fishslice1” by Original uploader was Jcvamp at en.wikipedia (Original text : FreeDigitalPhotos.net) Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.


Is there a more frustrating end to a conversation than “get over it?” Possibly “whatever” or a massive expulsion of wind, but it’s a close-run thing. “Get over it” is a favourite of fuckwits the English-speaking world over, a way of losing an argument without technically losing an argument.

If you’ve ever been told to “build a bridge”, “move on” or “harden up”, this column is dedicated to you.

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My email to Margaret Court

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Gay marriage. It’s died down completely as an issue since I wrote this letter to Margaret Court earlier in the year, but I thought I’d post it just for shits and giggles.

I don’t know what shits have to do with giggles. Do you? Margaret Court almost certainly does and I deeply regret not asking her what the shits/giggles link is in the below email to her.

Indeed, Margaret knows many things, including that “Australia is on a steep moral decline” and that “Minorities are now making it harder for the majority.”

I recommend reading Margaret’s Herald-Sun magnum opus from January before getting to my frippery:

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Benign to Five on dealing with difficult people

Difficult people are a dime a dozen, aren’t they? That’s less than one cent each, and still you’re probably paying too much.

People who use words like “douche” and “awesome” are difficult. People who speak loudly on trams are difficult. People who own Chapel Street bars are difficult. Shiny faced, purveyors of anger with persecution complexes are difficult. Wealthy people who say things like “If only I had that much money” are difficult. A majority of people are difficult.

So when the opportunity arose to attend a training course in learning how to deal with them, I screamed “You beauty!” in a stranger’s face and threw my coffee in the air. It probably landed on someone – I don’t really know.

Anyway, after I’d done the course, I wrote a column about it:

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The Flinders Street Stakes

Sometimes in the morning when I cross Flinders Street to get to the station from the Young and Jackson’s side of Swanston Street, I imagine that I’m in a horse race.

Is that childish? (That’s not a rhetorical question – I want you to answer it in the comments section of this page.)

I don’t have a good turn of speed; I don’t steam home from the rear of the field like Kingston Town. I’m more like Manighar; I grind away and try to out-stay more mercurial pedestrians.

I consider the edge of Swanston Street to be the running rail and try to position myself one off the fence, partly because it’s always a straight race and you can’t save any ground, but also because there are inevitably two or three runners ahead of me – dawdlers – who don’t have the class to win the race. If I’m stuck on the fence with these donkeys holding me up in the final furlong (or six metres), I give myself no chance of winning.

Sometimes other runners – mostly corpulent businessmen who’ve lost their bearings, their dignity and any basic human decency – lay in badly during the race, halt my run and force me to stop riding.… Read the rest

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