THE TROUBLE AND STRIFE

by gragbalbrady

Apologies for the delay since my last post. My dear wife, Maiter, has taken ill after a fall down our back stairs, so I have been tending to her at the hospital.

It all happened, completely coincidentally, soon after we had finished watching the Newcastle Knights lose their sixth consecutive match of the season to the Balmain Tigers. I don’t remember all of the details, thanks to what I call my “sherry haze”, but I do seem to recall Maiter accidentally tripping over my walking cane as she passed between me and the television.  In the resulting tumble across the lounge room and down the stairs, Maiter managed to rupture her pelvis in 3 places, and partially swallow her dentures. Thankfully, having fortuitously programmed my phone to dial only two numbers (triple 0 and the Continuous Call Team) I was able to hail an emergency vehicle to collect her when I came to my senses the next morning.

I took this photo after removing her saline drip. I believe any sort of IV to be akin to illicit drug taking, and instead keep up her bodily fluids by forcibly administering a litre of water every hour, into any available end.

I took this photo after removing her saline drip. I believe any sort of IV to be akin to illicit drug taking, and instead keep up her bodily fluids by forcibly administering a litre of water every hour, into any available end.

I only left Maiter’s bedside today, after the Oriental doctor at the hospital advised that the septicaemia should be residing shortly… or at least I think that’s what he told me. But, for the next three months, she will at all times need to wear oven mitts and a cone around her neck, so that she doesn’t pick at the wounds.

For now, our fingers are crossed that she passes her dentures gums-first.  Horrible, just horrible.

The two of us in happier, healthier times.

The two of us in happier, healthier times.

With the love of my life on my mind, I read today with interest the latest rumblings around so-called “maternity leave”. Never in my life have I encountered such a moot argument. Why on earth would we want to be encouraging our women to work in the first place – has the world gone mad? Maiter certainly never needed career aspirations when we were raising our beautiful daughter, Sherry Haze. In fact, I saw to it that she was unenrolled from her law degree the day before I proposed to her! It calls to mind a letter I had published in the Newcastle Herald some years ago, which I will reproduce forthwith:

Congratulations to Jeff Corbett (Keep the sink chains, 18/2) for having the courage to openly voice what every decent citizen knows to be true. For the last thousand years western society has flourished under the system of men doing the work and women doing the facilitating. I’ll be damned if I let these two-bit do-gooders and peaceniks try and tell me how my society should be run. This is not to say that women don’t play an integral role in modern day society – every good engine needs oil to keep it in order – but to suggest that we throw the whole system out the window is shear insanity. As I said to the bleeding heart republicans in ’99: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Grag Balbrady, Waratah Heights

Hear hear, I say!

Although I don’t generally like to stray from our Tony’s chosen path, surely a simple solution to the current budgetary crisis would be to scrap the Paid Parental Leave Scheme altogether. As well as freeing up billions of dollars, it would dissuade women from wanting to seek employment in the first place, and instead let them focus on their God-given talents of making babies and cleaning.

Furthermore, only single women and lesbians (which in my mind are the same thing) should be allowed to engage in full-time employment; after having been put through a rigorous screening and licensing process. In my mind, this would be a win for everybody – easing pressure on the economy, increasing employment rates for males, and seeing a return to the good old fashioned family unit.

A strapping young lad dressing up just like Daddy. More of this, I say!

A strapping young lad dressing up just like Daddy. More of this, I say!

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