Twisted Firestarters

A wee while ago, Australia was the dumping ground for Mother England's criminals. It's not something mainstream Oz likes to be reminded of and that's understandable, it was generations ago that all that happened, but recent events in Victoria have proven that turd hasn't fallen far from the arse where some individuals are concerned.

It has all infamously started with a few fire starters who might have been after some sort of fucked up sexual gratification by watching bush burn but who are now murderers and dead men walking. I don't know the last time the world witnessed a public lynching outside of some shitty third world country or place where it's legal for a husband to sodomise his 13 wives, but I reckon that when they catch these guys we might just have a little public stoning on our hands. And I do hope they catch them despite the difficulties I can only imagine investigators face when dealing with a case like this. Unfortunately there are too few closed circuit TV cameras in the bush.

They have caught someone though and are charging him with at least 21 deaths and that's a conservative estimate of just how many his arson has caused. He's also being charged with being in possession of a large number of kiddie porn images. What a fucken surprise. The turd really hasn't fallen far from the arse has it?

You would think life doesn't get much lower down the denominator table than someone who likes to have a wank over an arson, but amongst the unbelievable scenes we've seen of towns and life wiped out, comes the news that some pricks have taken to looting amongst the rubble. How there can be anything left is one thing, but how these low life’s can then have the audacity to snake their way through the ashes beggars belief. Y'know, persecuted races looting the bodies of the dead Nazi oppressors after they've been mowed down by the liberating Allied forces is one thing; bastards looting the smoking remains of neighbours who lived in the same street with them is just plain Lord of the Flies shit.

But wait. There's more. Amongst the arsonists and looters we now have fraudsters, posing as charity collectors and pocketing the cash they have fraudulently gathered, the fucks. Are we still talking about a civilised country here? Because it all reads like something you hear of happening in Africa somewhere, not one of the most developed countries in the world that's four hours away by plane.

Not that the majority of Australians represent the bottom of the gene pool like this arseholes do, but the fact that there are so many in the one area is some scary shit. The doomsayers are having a field day though because for them and ever other fool silly enough to pay for the book on Nostradamus, this is the sign that they might have been waiting on for years and years. It could be, but ol Nostrils is never terribly clear about the exact dates of these things so they go with it until something else pops up.

Everybody has a thing for a good burn up at some point in their lives. I certainly did as a boy, not that it gave me a hard on or anything, but I experimented with fire as much as the next kid and like the kid next door, I nearly burnt the freakin house down too. This was back in the days when all the grown men wore stubbies, a Brazilian was just somebody from Brazil and you took your groceries home in paper bags. We used to pile ours up in the corner of the kitchen where they sat, just gagging for some six year old with pyro tendencies to toss a match on the suckers. So I did one Saturday morning whilst my parents were in bed and man did it light up something pretty.

The flames got damn high on my impromptu bonfire, to the ceiling I recall and the heat coming off it was only fractionally hotter than my arse cheeks would be some twenty minutes later after getting the hiding of my life from my step father, after he had put the fire out. Now you would think that a scare like that would put me off matches for quite some time and it did, but years later I developed a small fascination over lighters and a similar incident to the paper bag thing happened whilst in my Grandmas caravan with a box of tissues.

I was lucky to escape that one by the quick thinking of my sister who had been asleep in the caravan but had been awoken by the cackle of flames and by my lady like squeals of fear, thankfully she immersed the box in a sink full of water. My Grandma was appalled at my actions but ultimately thankful we were both okay, my Grandfather - who was a little bit more old school when showing his emotions - demonstrated his relief that we weren't hurt by the way of a damn good thrashing.

And that was that, the end of my short foray into a career in arson. I learnt my lesson after a) nearly frying myself, twice and b) two well deserved hidings. I hope the murderers in Victoria are given the same treatment because it would be rude not too really.