As you read this, folks, spare a thought for us back here at the Tribune bunker; well, to be honest, spare a thought for the kids and the dogs (don’t worry about the cat, she hates us already). As of the 1st of September we’re having yet another go at giving up smoking.
Yes, even though our last attempt resulted in writer’s block for us both, lots of broken crockery, and constant yowling on our website about the trials of cigarette deprivation, we ended up back where we started - we are nicotine’s bitch once again.
And yes, I blame a certain editor who started sneaking off at all hours to “have a quick drink/catch up with (insert fictional friend here)/grab something at the supermarket/check the back yard for sand pixies”, and coming back smelling vaguely of Alpines and breath mints. Well, NOT THIS TIME BABY!
We continue our firm stance that smoking is nowhere near as bad as the zealots would have you believe, however we have to admit that we look, feel and smell better when we’re off the gaspers, and it’s nice having an extra hundred bucks or so in the bank every week.
So look out nicotine wagon, here we come. If The King could do it, so can we. Happy Birthday Steve, by the way.
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Money. Money. Money. It makes the world go around, it’s the root of all evil, man can’t serve it and God both, and so on and so on. Since the Phoenicians first invented money around 1500 BC, it’s ruled us.
In Saxon times, there was a scale of fees that were levied for injuries inflicted on others. For example, if I accidentally-on-purpose put out old Wolfram’s eye late one night round the fire, I would be hit for a fine of fifty shillings, the equivalent of about ten thousand bucks today. Loss of a foot, two thousand etc, but the kicker was if I lopped off or in some other way incapacitated his wedding tackle - that being the worst injury I could have inflicted (can’t really disagree) - it would have set me back fifty thousand smackers. Personal Liability insurance didn’t even exist back then, and they still had ways of suing each other for damages. Of course, then the Normans invaded and took over, and everything was punishable by a horrible, slow death, much like being forced to watch Idol every night.
If you’re reading this online, please take a minute or two to comment on any of the articles that pique your interest. Rudeness and personal attacks will not be tolerated, but we do want to open up discussions on any and all of our content. For one thing, it keeps things interesting, but it also helps us track what works and what doesn’t, which is in everybody’s interest.
Oh, yeah. Remember last month we were promising to put the Tribune in new locations, and run a flyer/poster campaign? Well fate, that fickle mistress, saw fit to shear half an inch of Teflon off a roller somewhere deep inside the printer (thankfully after we’d finished the print run), so our posters and special editions didn’t eventuate. A big thank you to our long-suffering and dedicated repair dude, for his outstanding efforts, ensuring that this month will actually get out on the street, something like on time.
Keep sacrificing small furry animals to the printer god, and keep enjoying the Tribune.
Oh, by the way, don't forget to check out what's coming Next Month in the Tribune
Love to those who love us, and off to dinner with Kyle Sandilands for those who don't!
Jane & Justin Shaw
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