nyonyamansor09

Time is beautiful. Given enough time you can get fat, bald and start to sprout hair from your ears. Suffering those indignities is worth it because time also builds something else - an artillery. As Sun Tzu said, "while you sweat an imprint into your couch, your enemies sow the seeds of their destruction." Predictions have been made and forgotten by most. Those without shame and something to sell can forever make those predictions without fear of second guessing. Welcome to Tasmania, where the print media is a contemptible landscape of irrelevant whiskey-nosed boozers and their fresh faced, empty headed underlings. You know the type, tweeting while watching Q&A on Monday night allows them to believe they're the state's intelligentsia. Luckily there's me. Thoroughly lazy, yet occasionally motivated by the chance any of Tasmania's lamentable journalistic stock will rip me off and highlight something original. The odds aren't good. The Mercury's pumpe...

It’s only taken six weeks and I can officially get high on the smell of my own farts. This morning a North-West reader alerted me the local newspaper, The Advocate, had written a story questioning any housing shortage - going so far as to suggest there might be a bunch of empty houses around the state. I ran out and grabbed the paper, in the process half expecting pig poop to land on my head at any moment. Upon reading the article I found myself as pleasantly surprised as anyone could be in this situation – don’t kid yourself, the weekly Domain real estate lift out is probably the ventilator keeping this newspaper breathing. Now anyone who’s read this mangy mess of a blog would quickly realise The Advocate story had my fingerprints all over it. After all, it was only last weekend I drove a dagger into the heart of any spruiker cunning enough to suggest the North-West had a shortage of housing. And a month earlier I suggested Tasmania was currently building a new dwelling for every 1.84...