Who would be blogging on new years eve?
Obviously, me.
I have always found that organized events suck. The only really great ones occur spontaneously.
The contrived new year's bullshit doesn't cut it with me, any more than that fake xmas 'good will to all mankind' crapola. It sits like a silage-fed cow's turd on your chest.
I'm having a few quiet drinks at home and watching Peter Jackson's 'Frighteners'
The unfortunate thing is that my CO2 cylinder has finally run out of gas after 3 years!
I can't get the cider out!
Maybe just as well, as I'm shooting moving target in the morning!
9mm or .357- decisions, decisions!
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Wasting time on New Year's Eve
It's all generationxy's fault for linking those quiz's!
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=17675020579094199926
Der KommandantAchtung!
You are 30% brainwashworthy, 59% antitolerant, and 80% blindly patriotic
Opportunistic, patriotic to a fault, and not so fond of people who aren't just like you, you are like a Nazi General. Back in Germany in the 1940's, you would have been at the top of the asshole list. Not for Nazism, necessarily, but for your own sick, twisted values. Then, out of superior intelligence (relative to other Nazis, that is), you would've climbed to the top.Conclusion: you would have been a Nazi, and most likely would have served them well.
General suits me fine, you get to sleep in a bed, have a driver and get lots of perks! Why not, in real life, I held the same rank as Adolph!
Tits, ass & cuteness didn't work too well, a quite a few of the images wouldn't open, but I like slim women with smaller tits, based on what I could answer (actually, any women that would look out of place at a Labour/Greens convention is in!)
Another pint of cider...
http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=3828635434782670283
The Debutante56%
Cute, neither Dark nor Light, and Stylish, you'll find the Debutante at high-class New York parties, making the rounds. She'll have a glass of champagne in one gloved hand, her hair perfectly coifed, her makeup exactingly applied. Her slinky, perfect little black dress keeps many an eye firmly on her, wondering what lies beneath.
Yep, I like them high class bitches! Like gals from Catholic schools, they are the naughtiest ones of them all , behind closed doors and still hold onto their class!- never will they say "Juss chuck it in, bro!"
Masculine/Feminine Test...
http://www.mysticgames.com/mysticgames_cfmfiles/tests/showtest.cfm?TestID=29
90.77%
You are definitely more Masculine than Feminine in your tastes, habits, and style. You aren't very sentimental, and you don't like wasting much time on petty things. You know how to be straightforward without getting bogged down with trivialities. You also are generally comfortable with your surroundings.
Tell me something it didn't know, not sure where the other 9% went- the question about a sink full of dishes must have got me. I don't like looking at a sink full of dishes, because your woman should have put them into the dishwasher!...
More cider needed...
The friggin' death quiz has locked up, but I already knew I was going to die.
Time to go and clean my Luger, prior to having mit the shag with mine slim debutant wife!
Seig Heil!
Friday, December 30, 2005
A J Chesswas
Who I believe is a demented troll(s) taking the piss- but just in case you are 'for real'...
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Normality has been restored
That particular nonsense is over for another year. No more trifle for lunch and the cold meat has finally run out.
The boy's toys still all work (!) and I have my new toy now. The longer barrel spoils the look, but that's the NZ laws for you. The original is 11mm too short- bugger! Still, for a compact pistol, it shoots real straight!
I have discovered that the average section has few suitable places to hang a hammock or a shade sail, and I have a lot of large trees. I wonder how many of these things wind up gathering dust in the garage.
All the in-laws have buggered of up north, leaving me with all the remaining cider to finish. Now if only the wife and kids had followed...
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Humbug!
Well, the Roboraptor lasted almost five minutes before becoming extinct.
First repair job of the day- no, the roboraptor is OK- the 'new' batteries were fubar-feckin' warehouse! He actually shuffles along at a reasonable speed, now!
Setting him to attack Thomas, Percy and Toby was not a move guaranteed to keep the peace.
Now that the road set has been added to Thomas's domain, I have lost almost half the lounge. At least he doesn't need batteries.
4 1/2 hours until lunch with the outlaws, then it's cider time!
First repair job of the day- no, the roboraptor is OK- the 'new' batteries were fubar-feckin' warehouse! He actually shuffles along at a reasonable speed, now!
Setting him to attack Thomas, Percy and Toby was not a move guaranteed to keep the peace.
Now that the road set has been added to Thomas's domain, I have lost almost half the lounge. At least he doesn't need batteries.
4 1/2 hours until lunch with the outlaws, then it's cider time!
Friday, December 23, 2005
Holiday fun!
Chasing pussy in the holiday season:
http://www.buckstix.com/CoehornMortarHunt.htm
On dealing with pesky Reindeer:
http://www.buckstix.com/howitzer.htm
http://www.buckstix.com/CoehornMortarHunt.htm
On dealing with pesky Reindeer:
http://www.buckstix.com/howitzer.htm
For the man who has everything
A jet-powered beer cooler!
No- really!
http://www.asciimation.co.nz/beer/
Already having a refrigerator, I'm going to get another pistol!
No- really!
http://www.asciimation.co.nz/beer/
Already having a refrigerator, I'm going to get another pistol!
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Retail Hell
Today was my annual descent into the uttermost depths of Hell.
Christmas shopping.
A torment the wife finds necessary to inflict upon the rest of us. Unlike her, I didn't grow up with the fuckin' Waltons. My family has a tacit agreement to buy for our own spawn and not inflict the obligation to reciprocate. A very sensible arrangement!
As the maw of the pit opened, I fell into the first levels of my torment. The Warehouse. A seething mass of semi-evolved simians pawed shelves full of cheap and not so cheap goods. Few wore deodorant and all had children, most behaving badly.
After five minutes, Mr Three demanded the toilet. It was out of order.
The descent continued as I attempted to find a viewable DVD in the uder $10 bin, while the wife did a speed dash to the nearest service station, in search of a (working) toilet. My autistic 5 year old amused himself by snatching at passing handbags.
Departing with $90 worth of junk, to swap for other junk, it was time to buy food.
Express elevator to the Ninth Circle, going down!
WritePrice, Masterton- Vittuls fer Hillbilly's.
The demon lord of that plane had decreed his minions must push overladen trolleys full of beans, making progress on one of the busiest days of the year, near impossible. Especially when one of the lumbering she-mountains spilled into the same aisle.
Lured by the $3.98/kg pork special, the toothless unwashed had flocked from near and far and a forklift was kept busy resupplying pallets of Tui.
Mr Three again demands the toilet and again I'm left with a trolley full of pork and sausages- and the handbag-snatcher, who can reach the shelves in the narrow isles.
With the list near complete, I rush for the shortest checkout line. The trolley in front had been loaded by Mrs Creosote. Mr Five shits his pants- probably thought she was going to eat him!
The stench is great. And it's a thirty-five minute drive home.
I finished the shopping via the internet...
Christmas shopping.
A torment the wife finds necessary to inflict upon the rest of us. Unlike her, I didn't grow up with the fuckin' Waltons. My family has a tacit agreement to buy for our own spawn and not inflict the obligation to reciprocate. A very sensible arrangement!
As the maw of the pit opened, I fell into the first levels of my torment. The Warehouse. A seething mass of semi-evolved simians pawed shelves full of cheap and not so cheap goods. Few wore deodorant and all had children, most behaving badly.
After five minutes, Mr Three demanded the toilet. It was out of order.
The descent continued as I attempted to find a viewable DVD in the uder $10 bin, while the wife did a speed dash to the nearest service station, in search of a (working) toilet. My autistic 5 year old amused himself by snatching at passing handbags.
Departing with $90 worth of junk, to swap for other junk, it was time to buy food.
Express elevator to the Ninth Circle, going down!
WritePrice, Masterton- Vittuls fer Hillbilly's.
The demon lord of that plane had decreed his minions must push overladen trolleys full of beans, making progress on one of the busiest days of the year, near impossible. Especially when one of the lumbering she-mountains spilled into the same aisle.
Lured by the $3.98/kg pork special, the toothless unwashed had flocked from near and far and a forklift was kept busy resupplying pallets of Tui.
Mr Three again demands the toilet and again I'm left with a trolley full of pork and sausages- and the handbag-snatcher, who can reach the shelves in the narrow isles.
With the list near complete, I rush for the shortest checkout line. The trolley in front had been loaded by Mrs Creosote. Mr Five shits his pants- probably thought she was going to eat him!
The stench is great. And it's a thirty-five minute drive home.
I finished the shopping via the internet...
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Big Boy's Toys!
Forget Roboraptor- this much more fun!
1 1/8" lead ball
+
200 grains FG powder
=
Very big bang!
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Bloody Spoilers!
The house was a cube-like structure, built into the side of a hill. The whole site was on top of a ridge line, overlooking the ocean, the top two levels being above the ridge. Windows were occasional long slits, running horizontal in an otherwise plain wall.
I entered the building through a door on the lowest level at the rear of the house, the front being the side of the cube facing the sea. The entrance way was small for the size of the building, an area about 3 metres square, leading to a steep stairway, carpeted in grey wool. The walls were painted in a tan colour, with burgundy detailing.
The stairs went straight up about three stories and lead to a kitchen area. The kitchen was modern- industrial design, with glass fronted fridges and counter tops paneled in Tawa. The kitchen area took up one quarter of an open plan area, which made up a dining room. In this dining area, another stairwell lead below to a guest apartment. From the kitchen, looking to the front of the building, a wide bi-fold door(open) lead to a large lounge areas. This in turn opened though another such door into another lounge, the far side being the ceiling to floor glass of the front wall.
The whole area was in neutral white and beige and apart from the kitchen, a recent renovation, seem outdated and a bit shabby.
Heading down into the guest apartment, the colour scheme and decor changed dramatically, to an Art Deco theme. The colour being predominantly in pale greens. The stud was considerably lower here and the ceiling had the unusual decoration of a ornate molding in mirrored glass! The carpet was a sixties blue-green colour. The paint was flaking and spotted with mould. The bathroom had a green free-standing batch and the walls were tiled in pale green and trimmed with chromed steel.
The guest apartments lead to a utility space containing a walk-in safe and another smaller safe. From here we move to what looked like teenagers apartments. A kitchenette had a bar fridge still containing a few miniature bottles of spirits and a bourbon bottle with a few nips in it lay on its side on the bench. In a cupboard I found a half bottle of Absinthe!
The rooms here were painted in an off-white and were spacious and plentifully supplied with built-in shelving, now empty.
This apartment opened out into a patio. To the left was an outbuilding, which looked like an old laundry. It contained five old refrigerators, of 1950’s design, one containing a few loose cans of beer, the rest mould. A large, flat area was paved in concrete squares, the concrete being old, but uncracked and level, with aggregate exposed. Further over was a modern-looking outbuilding, about the size of a small cottage. It looked in good repair and condition.
The area had clear potential. It was tidy but was currently devoid of any form of furniture, decoration, colour or plantings.
The view towards the sea was, to say the least, spectacular, looking out towards the Tasman sea. We were 800 feet above the sea level, with a steep drop-off from the front of the house, to the rocky shore.
I will never forget this house. It was run down, parts were in terrible taste, but I had to have it! Beyond the wear & tear I could see a unique home- the sort that rarely comes your way. With money and a lot of work, it could be spectacular.
As I headed back to the house, to continue the tour, my wife woke me at 5.45am, with some totally unnecessary question about toast bread- the rest of the house was lost forever.
I entered the building through a door on the lowest level at the rear of the house, the front being the side of the cube facing the sea. The entrance way was small for the size of the building, an area about 3 metres square, leading to a steep stairway, carpeted in grey wool. The walls were painted in a tan colour, with burgundy detailing.
The stairs went straight up about three stories and lead to a kitchen area. The kitchen was modern- industrial design, with glass fronted fridges and counter tops paneled in Tawa. The kitchen area took up one quarter of an open plan area, which made up a dining room. In this dining area, another stairwell lead below to a guest apartment. From the kitchen, looking to the front of the building, a wide bi-fold door(open) lead to a large lounge areas. This in turn opened though another such door into another lounge, the far side being the ceiling to floor glass of the front wall.
The whole area was in neutral white and beige and apart from the kitchen, a recent renovation, seem outdated and a bit shabby.
Heading down into the guest apartment, the colour scheme and decor changed dramatically, to an Art Deco theme. The colour being predominantly in pale greens. The stud was considerably lower here and the ceiling had the unusual decoration of a ornate molding in mirrored glass! The carpet was a sixties blue-green colour. The paint was flaking and spotted with mould. The bathroom had a green free-standing batch and the walls were tiled in pale green and trimmed with chromed steel.
The guest apartments lead to a utility space containing a walk-in safe and another smaller safe. From here we move to what looked like teenagers apartments. A kitchenette had a bar fridge still containing a few miniature bottles of spirits and a bourbon bottle with a few nips in it lay on its side on the bench. In a cupboard I found a half bottle of Absinthe!
The rooms here were painted in an off-white and were spacious and plentifully supplied with built-in shelving, now empty.
This apartment opened out into a patio. To the left was an outbuilding, which looked like an old laundry. It contained five old refrigerators, of 1950’s design, one containing a few loose cans of beer, the rest mould. A large, flat area was paved in concrete squares, the concrete being old, but uncracked and level, with aggregate exposed. Further over was a modern-looking outbuilding, about the size of a small cottage. It looked in good repair and condition.
The area had clear potential. It was tidy but was currently devoid of any form of furniture, decoration, colour or plantings.
The view towards the sea was, to say the least, spectacular, looking out towards the Tasman sea. We were 800 feet above the sea level, with a steep drop-off from the front of the house, to the rocky shore.
I will never forget this house. It was run down, parts were in terrible taste, but I had to have it! Beyond the wear & tear I could see a unique home- the sort that rarely comes your way. With money and a lot of work, it could be spectacular.
As I headed back to the house, to continue the tour, my wife woke me at 5.45am, with some totally unnecessary question about toast bread- the rest of the house was lost forever.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The Death penalty- they don't do it again.
I have been following the debate on the death penalty, sparked by the termination of another oxygen-thief.
I didn't always support the death penalty, but within a week of working in a prison, I had re-examined this point of view!
Firstly, this is how I believe it should work.
1- The evidence must be incontrovertible- DNA match, video , multiple eye-witnesses- 'smoking gun' scenarios.
2- It should only be for premeditated murder, or murder in the commission of another crime
3- There should be a mandatory jail term, to allow for the appeal process or new evidence to surface- say five years. Time to pray that there is an all-forgiving God out there.
Back to the 'why's'
My experience is that those who fit this category have seldom lead a life of virtue. They generally have at least a couple of pages of convictions for lesser wrongdoings, before doing the big one. Of interest, I often would see 'theft of a bicycle' as the start to a career in crime.
The sort of murderer who has lead a useful life, then snapped one day and took the tomahawk to the mother in law doesn't fit the criteria for a hemp necktie. Nor the lad who at 18 and no dealings with the police, got into a brawl in the pub and hit someone a bit too hard. They are due serious punishment, but not death.
One comment that surfaces is that 'No person (or the state) has the right to take another's life'
That would be their opinion, as mine is to hand the bastards. I don't see it engraved on a mysterious prehistoric black obelisk. Even the line in the other mysterious object 'Thou shall not kill' is accepted to mean 'thou shall not murder'.
I suspect many of the 'no executions' camp have little experience in crime or criminals, outside of books.
The 'rough men that keep you safe, at night' have a different outlook. A much more pragmatic one. Dead crims don't cost money or reoffend. And justice is served to the victim.
Something not happening now, where the concern is for the 'rights' of the criminal. Something that should have been severely curtailed when the judge said "Guilty!"
I would love to see some of the 'crims are humans too' crowd spend a few day behind bars, in a high security unit. They may find their objectivity shifts, as the go from theorizer to prey.
I didn't always support the death penalty, but within a week of working in a prison, I had re-examined this point of view!
Firstly, this is how I believe it should work.
1- The evidence must be incontrovertible- DNA match, video , multiple eye-witnesses- 'smoking gun' scenarios.
2- It should only be for premeditated murder, or murder in the commission of another crime
3- There should be a mandatory jail term, to allow for the appeal process or new evidence to surface- say five years. Time to pray that there is an all-forgiving God out there.
Back to the 'why's'
My experience is that those who fit this category have seldom lead a life of virtue. They generally have at least a couple of pages of convictions for lesser wrongdoings, before doing the big one. Of interest, I often would see 'theft of a bicycle' as the start to a career in crime.
The sort of murderer who has lead a useful life, then snapped one day and took the tomahawk to the mother in law doesn't fit the criteria for a hemp necktie. Nor the lad who at 18 and no dealings with the police, got into a brawl in the pub and hit someone a bit too hard. They are due serious punishment, but not death.
One comment that surfaces is that 'No person (or the state) has the right to take another's life'
That would be their opinion, as mine is to hand the bastards. I don't see it engraved on a mysterious prehistoric black obelisk. Even the line in the other mysterious object 'Thou shall not kill' is accepted to mean 'thou shall not murder'.
I suspect many of the 'no executions' camp have little experience in crime or criminals, outside of books.
The 'rough men that keep you safe, at night' have a different outlook. A much more pragmatic one. Dead crims don't cost money or reoffend. And justice is served to the victim.
Something not happening now, where the concern is for the 'rights' of the criminal. Something that should have been severely curtailed when the judge said "Guilty!"
I would love to see some of the 'crims are humans too' crowd spend a few day behind bars, in a high security unit. They may find their objectivity shifts, as the go from theorizer to prey.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
The pros and cons of Christmas
Pro's.
I sold of a trailerload of worthless thinnings from the firewood block for an outrageous amount of money.
Cooking a whole ham on the Weber.
Eating a whole ham cooked on the Weber.
60 litres of Cider awaiting consumption.
Con's.
Plastic trees shed crap on the carpet, too.
Spending money on non-firearm related purchases.
Not receiving firearms related gifts. (Where's my friggin' Weatherby, Santa?)
3 year-old waking at 5.45am to check if it is xmas yet.
Prospects of sex, because of the above.
Wife's expectations. (why bother, I'm not getting sex!)
Christmas Carols.
Sunday IPSC shoot cancelled due to it being xmas day! (what??)
Sugared children.
60 litres of Cider awaiting consumption.
I sold of a trailerload of worthless thinnings from the firewood block for an outrageous amount of money.
Cooking a whole ham on the Weber.
Eating a whole ham cooked on the Weber.
60 litres of Cider awaiting consumption.
Con's.
Plastic trees shed crap on the carpet, too.
Spending money on non-firearm related purchases.
Not receiving firearms related gifts. (Where's my friggin' Weatherby, Santa?)
3 year-old waking at 5.45am to check if it is xmas yet.
Prospects of sex, because of the above.
Wife's expectations. (why bother, I'm not getting sex!)
Christmas Carols.
Sunday IPSC shoot cancelled due to it being xmas day! (what??)
Sugared children.
60 litres of Cider awaiting consumption.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
The Death of an Era
A MAN whose business acumen sparked Wairarapa's most hotly contested grocery and liquor price wars died yesterday in Wellington Hospital.
John Chung, owner of Chungs Supermarket in Featherston, had been ill in hospital for several weeks.
Mr Chung virtually pioneered grocery price wars in Wairarapa in the mid-1960s by going head-to-head with several rival grocers, determined to offer goods at the lowest possible price.
Most reading this would have no idea who this person was. Mr Chung was one of the last true independent supermarket operators. He wouldn't have a bar of franchises and refused to follow the trend of continually tarting up the shop. He ran on a shoestring budget, doing his own signwriting and even building extensions to the store himself.
He was a hard nut- he wouldn't take cheques, took a hard line on thieves and the under-age could never buy a bottle from him!
The local trust-run (and very expensive) supermarket claims to be there for the community and it is true that they put profits back through donations to charities. But John Chung sold stuff at way cheaper prices- That is what really helps the community!
The rulers of this land could learn from his example- hard work, thrift, no waste and most of all- what helps us most is hanging onto our money, not paying a lot more to maybe receive some back...
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Reparations payments- what a friggin' joke!
18 months ago, I was awarded $10 grand reparations, following being crunched by a dumbfuck drunk driver.
So far I have recieved one payment of $700 and today, almost three months later, another for $50 bucks turns up.
Fifty friggin' dollars- that means he is paying it at five lousy bucks a week!- no doubt the worthless POS is on the dole again.
That will take THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS, TO PAY ME OFF! it will only happen that quick, as I get no sodding interest on the amount owed.
I don't see why these deadbeats can't be sold into indentured service of some kind- scrubcutter or dung-gatherer would be suitable. Get enough of them and they can work a big treadmill and generate electricity.
Bring back the workhouse!
So far I have recieved one payment of $700 and today, almost three months later, another for $50 bucks turns up.
Fifty friggin' dollars- that means he is paying it at five lousy bucks a week!- no doubt the worthless POS is on the dole again.
That will take THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS, TO PAY ME OFF! it will only happen that quick, as I get no sodding interest on the amount owed.
I don't see why these deadbeats can't be sold into indentured service of some kind- scrubcutter or dung-gatherer would be suitable. Get enough of them and they can work a big treadmill and generate electricity.
Bring back the workhouse!
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Fair Go, Target.
Why bother with panty-sniffing plumbers, when much bigger fish are stealing form all of us?
"What about ACC? Gungho Fraud investigator want ed the product, Womble perpetual ass-kissig manager says cost too much……how big was the problem at ACC?
They told us $100 million estimated by individuals, $100 million by medical providers and $50 million by staff!!!! Yep $250 million. - hat tip- http://www.whaleoil.co.nz/
Surely this beats the hell out of dodgy washing-machine fixers or cleaners that use the same cloth?
Or are the program producers employers not on the target list- no matter how bent they may be?
More objective journalism in NZ...
"What about ACC? Gungho Fraud investigator want ed the product, Womble perpetual ass-kissig manager says cost too much……how big was the problem at ACC?
They told us $100 million estimated by individuals, $100 million by medical providers and $50 million by staff!!!! Yep $250 million. - hat tip- http://www.whaleoil.co.nz/
Surely this beats the hell out of dodgy washing-machine fixers or cleaners that use the same cloth?
Or are the program producers employers not on the target list- no matter how bent they may be?
More objective journalism in NZ...
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Life in the Septic Tank (Job Hunting)
I decided, of my own free will and without prompting, to remove last night's vodka-fueled dissertation on the personal habits of HR goons.
Although I still consider them shit-eaters on the bottom of the pond. The pond being the type found on dairy farms.
When being interviewed, I have found honesty to be the best policy, given that porkies easily trip you up. That is why I find it particularly annoying when the interviewing panel start with the BS. I have spent a lot of time interviewing, myself and are quite good at spotting a player of games. Often it's not one thing, but a series of small slips, that gives the game away.
The other one is that NZ is a small town. This is how I KNOW that a job is going in-house and that the interviews are just a matter of form as "HR says we have to follow the 'process'"
They know damn well who they are going to hire, the others that have spent the best part of a day filling out their wanky 'self-assessment' forms, then blow a day going to an interview, are just being jerked around. This covers three of the last four jobs I have applied for.
Fucking time wasters- being interviewed by clowns that obviously have not bothered to read my CV, just because HR dictated the must interview 4 (or whatever) candidates.
And I seriously dislike having my time wasted!
Yeah, I know this sounds like sour grapes on my part and there is a component of that. But I bet anyone who has been on the market for a few years has struck this!
Whilst on the subject, I must mention 'The Great Skill-Shortage' spin. I believe it is a beat-up by lazy NZ business to import ready-trained immigrants, rather than train up someone, who may have the aptitude, but not the specific training.
(I didn't vote for Winston, BTW!)
Although I still consider them shit-eaters on the bottom of the pond. The pond being the type found on dairy farms.
When being interviewed, I have found honesty to be the best policy, given that porkies easily trip you up. That is why I find it particularly annoying when the interviewing panel start with the BS. I have spent a lot of time interviewing, myself and are quite good at spotting a player of games. Often it's not one thing, but a series of small slips, that gives the game away.
The other one is that NZ is a small town. This is how I KNOW that a job is going in-house and that the interviews are just a matter of form as "HR says we have to follow the 'process'"
They know damn well who they are going to hire, the others that have spent the best part of a day filling out their wanky 'self-assessment' forms, then blow a day going to an interview, are just being jerked around. This covers three of the last four jobs I have applied for.
Fucking time wasters- being interviewed by clowns that obviously have not bothered to read my CV, just because HR dictated the must interview 4 (or whatever) candidates.
And I seriously dislike having my time wasted!
Yeah, I know this sounds like sour grapes on my part and there is a component of that. But I bet anyone who has been on the market for a few years has struck this!
Whilst on the subject, I must mention 'The Great Skill-Shortage' spin. I believe it is a beat-up by lazy NZ business to import ready-trained immigrants, rather than train up someone, who may have the aptitude, but not the specific training.
(I didn't vote for Winston, BTW!)
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