(The asterisks are all mine.)
Straight to the point!
A fabulous characteristic of Australians is that they are far more direct and outspoken than others when dealing with the sort of elected w****r who wouldn’t otherwise get the full drift of what they were trying to communicate.
Below is one such wonderful communication…
Dear Mr. Minister,
I’m in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe this.
How is it that K-Mart has my address and telephone number, and knows that I bought a Television Set and Golf Clubs from them back in 1997, and yet, the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date?
For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand?
My birth date you have in my Medicare information, and it is on all the income tax forms I’ve filed for the past 40 years. It is on my driver’s licence, on the last eight passports I’ve ever had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I’ve had to fill out before being allowed off the planes over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that I’ve filled out every 5 years since 1966.
Also. would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother’s name is Audrey, my Father’s name is Jack, and I’d be absolutely f****g astounded if that ever changed between now and when I drop dead!…
I apologize, Mr. Minister. But I’m really pissed off this morning. Between you an’ me, I’ve had enough of all this bullshit! You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my f*****g address!!
What the hell is going on with your mob? Have you got a gang of mindless Neanderthal arseholes workin’ there?
And another thing, look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I can’t even grow a beard for God’s sakes. I just want to go to New Zealand and see my new granddaughter. (Yes, my son interbred with a Kiwi girl).
And would someone please tell me, why would you give a shit whether I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days? If I ever got the urge to do something weird to a sheep or a horse, believe you me, I’d sure as hell not want to tell you!
Well, I have to go now, ’cause I have to go to the other end of the city, and get another f*****g copy of my birth certificate, and to part with another $80 for the privilege of accessing MY OWN INFORMATION!
Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot, to assist in the issuance of a new passport on the same day?
Nooooo.. that’d be too f*****g easy and make far too much sense. You would much prefer to have us running all over the place like chickens with our f*****g heads cut off, and then having to find some high society w****r to confirm that it’s really me in the goddamn photo! You know the photo..the one where we’re not allowed to smile?! …you f*****g morons.
Signed – An Irate Australian Citizen.
PS: Remember what I said above about the picture, and getting someone in high-society to confirm that it’s me? Well, my family has been in this country since before 1850! In 1856, one of my forefathers took up arms with Peter Lalor. (You do remember the Eureka Stockade!!)
I have also served in both the CMF and regular Army something over 30 years (I went to Vietnam in 1967), and still have high security clearances. I’m also a personal friend of the president of the RSL.. And Lt General Peter Cosgrove sends me a Christmas card each year.
However, your rules require that I have to get someone ‘important’ to verify who I am; You know.. Someone like my doctor; WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN F*****G PAKISTAN!!!……a country where they either assassinate or hang their ex-Prime Ministers, and are suspended from the Commonwealth for not having the ‘right sort of government.’
PSS: You are all a load of f*****g idiots.