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Pain in the Arse Award for 2013

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Pain in the arse
Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls;
Welcome to the Universal WordPress Amphitheatre where it is my great displeasure tonight to announce the winner of The Bucket’s prestigious annual Pain In The Arse Award.

This year we are breaking new ground by giving recognition not just to a single exasperating plonker, but to an unknown number of parasitic paper-shuffling nincompoops who exhibited exceptional stupidity and ignorance, combined with a monumental lack of decency and common sense.

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Millaa Millaa is a little town in my neighbourhood with a population of 250.  It’s the sort of town which immediately brings to mind the John Denver song lyric “I spent a week there one day.”

Millaa doesn’t have much going for it these days. It’s economic boom times are long gone. The timber industry and cheese factory are both just memories residing in the minds of old-timers, and the few remaining dairy farmers are now being financially emasculated by the absurd downward-pricing policies of Australia’s supermarket duopoly.

It is a picturesque town when the weather is fine, but often it is a bleak, windswept and rain-drenched place which most travelers are more than happy to bypass in order to find somewhere more climatically hospitable.

Last year, the good folk of Millaa Millaa approached their local Council asking for a toilet to be built at the cemetery.  All that rain tends to make some old farts like me  revered community elders want to regularly dash off for a pee, even midway through funeral services, or during the interment of deceased friends.

The Council edifice eggheads  architects estimated the cost of a toilet block to be $83,000 and accordingly advised that they couldn’t afford to spend that amount of money.
Undeterred, the resourceful members of the Millaa Millaa Chamber of Commerce immediately dug deep into their own pockets, as well as the sacred cemetery soil, and built their own custom designed toilet for the princely sum of just $1300.

Millaa Millaa coffin toilet

The unique Millaa Millaa coffin-shaped toilet soon generated publicity and notoriety, and became a much-welcomed tourism drawcard for the town …….until large piles of bureaucratic and sanctimonious shit started hitting the fan of irreverent Aussie ingenuity.

In one of the most treacherous acts of administrative bastardry I have witnessed in my entire life, the Council ordered
“the immediate removal of this unauthorised structure.”

On January 25, 2013, the toilet was lifted onto the back of a truck and given a funeral service of its own through the centre of town.
Eulogies were delivered mourning the passing of common sense.

Millaa's little dunny.  Murdered by a humorless purgative pack of pathetic pen-pushers.

Millaa’s little dunny. Murdered by a humorless purgative pack of pathetic pen-pushers.

The faceless little dictators who made this decision richly deserve our 2013 Pain In The Arse Award in recognition of their managerial incompetence and the disrespectful and insensitive way that they treated the good people of Millaa Millaa, the very same people they are overpaid to serve.

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(Last year’s  Pain in the Arse Award winner here)

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Posted on

An Australian architectural treatise

(Ed;  Not a good start GOF. No-one's going to take you that seriously.)

dunny,  sl. australian, a toilet

One of the things I like about Australia is that most little towns have a conspicuously located sanitary "public convenience".

Perhaps the appreciation is due to my many years spent squatting over pit toilets in New Guinea.   In Australia I have never, in the dark of night, had a large snake drop from the thatched kunai-grass toilet roof onto my head then slither down my torso, between splayed legs before disappearing down into the pit.

Dunnies are seriously enthroned in Australian culture.

We have official awards for outstanding design and function.
Innovative waterless urinals fill us with national pride just like Skippy the Bush Kangaroo, Crocodile Dundee, and Kylie Minogue.
The town of Wyndham has a charity fundraising  Great Dunny Race where teams of 6 people propel carts, each of which must have an installed dunny bowl, along a race track.

The Government even has an official website
(here)  providing directions to every public toilet in Australia.

This is comforting for me to know.  

In my younger days I would plan journeys based on the availability of pubs, motels, tourist attractions, cricket matches, and sand dunes overlooking nude beaches.

Today it is far more comforting to know only that the road ahead is adequately supplied with dunnies no more than 60 minutes apart.

Here are a few from my recent travels.

The final one is the highly awarded facility at Mossman.

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