[Trigger warning for the Identity
Politickers & Conservatives – profanity and swearing.]
When
we’re on any of our six months spent yearly in the Mahau Sound we drink wine, lots and lots
of wine, because we’re happy.
When
we’re on any of our six months existing for the job in Geraldine, we drink lots and
lots of wine, because it cheers us up.
It’s
the miracle drug.
Keep
this in mind when viewing us driving home from the Mahau to Geraldine this Saturday, in our church as we head south - a half café, half winery sharing the same building - and we order our lunch with a bottle of wine from the café, but due to no off-licence are told
if we don’t finish said wine we can’t take it away with us; whereas if I take
a half step to the right, at the winery am told yes we can buy that same bottle
of wine from their counter and take it away, but we cannot consume it on the premises. Noting that buying our wine by the glass at $10 a pop, so turning a $38 bottle into a $70 expense, would be preposterous.
So
what do we do? We buy the bottle of wine with the meal, of course, and in this
unusual sitting I don’t feel like my share – Mrs H and I are quite competitive
over a bottle – but I have to drink it on principle, anyway, because of the principle.
So all the regulatory wowserism leading to Labour MP Iain Wowser-Lees-Galloway, and his pointless halved blood alcohol
limit which
hasn’t saved a life, but ruined what was left of jobs and dreams in
rural hospitality, made me drink more than I wanted to.
The
unintended consequences of control-freaks making law upon law upon law to
control us with, then admonishing and penalising private individuals who might try to join the dots back to good sense (such as, 'if you don't finish it, stuff the bottle under your shirt when you leave, and ensure we don't see.' ... No one told us that, see? Because if they had, someone would lose their livelihood - that's how evil these Iain Wowser-Lees-Galloways are.)
So
if you’re feeling a bit down or a bit happy: have a glass of the miracle wine. [Also noteworthy, Rachel Hunter's beauty program this Wednesday gone on the Greek Island of Ithaca, where the small population comprises over 80 centenarians, some 111 and 112 years old, who put their longevity down to unprocessed food and the preservative effects of strong wine - they make their reds 16% proof [heaven!)] .
And if
you want to see a complete pack of bastards who live contrary to the celebration of life, go view the spiteful, killjoy children playing in the
sandpit of our Fortress of Legislation in Wellington, or the office of any
government department - affixing in your mind, The Lord of the Flies.
Because - talking of bastards - don't forget this (in the New Zealand context):
“@thejournal_ie:
California has legalised assisted suicide http://t.co/nIMzFmXdAm
pic.twitter.com/dDyZ54fZGs”
@NZNationalParty
@dbseymour
—
Mark Hubbard (@MarkHubbard33) September
12, 2015
@thejournal_ie
@NZNationalParty
Pity we're arsing around with select committee chaired by a priest
@dbseymour
—
Mark Hubbard (@MarkHubbard33) September
12, 2015
A Government
that chooses to fob off the euthanasia debate we all want to a select committee
so it can – they hope - die under the chair of a man
trained for the seminary is an arrogant middle finger showing to the rights
of all of us. Its mandate is pointless, its timeframe - for every individual
who would choose to avail themselves of a dignified death now, and who cannot
wait - obscene.
But
anyway, to wine, and meddling arseholes; I raise my glass to the first, my middle finger to the bureaucrats.
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