Thursday, April 08, 2004


Sammy's posts below reveal the dangers of attempting to forge bonds with other cultures.
His total absorption into the ways of the brown folk have stripped away the vestiges of his New Zealand-ness and we now have standing before us a pidgin-speaking husk of his former self.
I'm recommending that Sammy takes a break over the holiday weekend and fill up on chocolate.
Lord knows that I myself have fallen into the quicklime of bi-culturalism on the odd occasion.
When the wife's family are around I find that I'm squinting in order to differentiate cousin from cousin and so on.
The wife insists that I wear my glasses more often around the house but there's no way that one of the Empire's loyal subjects is going to show weakness in the face of the Manchurian hordes.

I have many things to say about the government's handling of the foreshore issue. Once the furore has died down, I shall comment. Hopefully, mine will be a lone voice of reason.
I will pitch it low enough not to sound like I'm whining.

The phrase of the day is 'whakatane' - a variation on the theme of knowing one's creator in a biblical way.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004


Gidday, cuzzies. Sammy here again. Don’s taken te day off to study te new seabed and foreskin legislation but promises to be back with a full report tomorrow. Choice.

In te meantime, I had heaps of fun at my new mate Tame Iti’s arts show. It was very interesting to meet some Maoris. I was a bit nervous at first but think I set te right tone when I complimented him on his make-up. He sure had gone to a lot of trouble. I haven’t seen a man wearing that much make-up since te last caucus Xmas party Michael Laws came to.

Did youse see Matt Robson from the Usedtobeanalliance Party having a go at us for wanting to spend more money on defence? Plurry heck. Don’t these jokers know we’re going to need heaps of new soldiers to defend te foreshore from recently unemployed Maori MPs having picnics.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to play through when there’s a bunch of Maoris having a picnic on te green, but it can really bugger up your game.
This might not seem very important to you, but due to te laws of physics, golf is one of te few “sports” your Sammy can play.

Ka kite guano.

The phrase for today is ‘moko’ – a Maori coffee.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004


I'm having trouble seeing clearly these days.
Sammy suggests that I get a pair of glasses that make me even less human, but I think it's got something to do with the phalanx of security-types who foreshadow my every move. I was initially resistant to the proposal but we compromised by deciding not to have a specialist unit for my forehead.
Yes, I've had death threats - but haven't we all? From the moment we're birthed the promise of extinction dangles above our head like the Sword of Dolmio (thanks to Sammy for that - his knowledge of the classics surpasses even his appetite for condiments) and the sooner we accept our own mortality the better. Just ask Tariana Turia.

The phrase for today is ‘ahau’ - self-employed woman.

Monday, April 05, 2004


Gidday, youse jokers, hee hee hee. Sammy here. Don’s asked me to fill in while he takes some stress leave. I told the bro’ an opinion poll is only a snapshot in te foot and he shouldn’t’ be worried about te results, but he’s not having a moa bone of it, eh, cuzzies. Jeez, even if we only go down 5% every month, it’ll be a year before we have to get te proper jobs.
As youse can tell, I’ve been brushing up on my reo and I think I’ve got te hang of it now. Anyway, I’ve finally been invited to a hooley in my new job as Spokesman on Maoris' Affairs. Some joker called Tame Iti is having a do called "Meet the Prick", and I’m the guest of honour. Choice. Can’t wait to see who te prick will be.

I had a bit of korero with Linda Clark about it today. She said I was being pretty “sanguine” about te whole thing. Plurry nuisance - just got the hang of te te reo and now I have to learn plurry French.

The phrase for today is ‘kawhia’ - 1. automobile phobia. 2. place where stolen vehicles are traded.

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