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Ah yes. Back to the mouth. Got 5 teeth left. No two meet in a way to make chewing of anything tougher than fish or croissants impossible. Never been so skinny. Wasting away in Margaritaville alright. It’d cost the same as 2 brand new MOR sedans or one big fat new 4WD to get implant treatment that’s been around since 1970s. Cutting edge my arse. Tune into community(!?) radio sometime & listen to our Whig Aristocray babbling about how great our Medicare system is, along with the “state skools are grate skools” rhetoric. Spew worthy. Yeah, grate for them that can afford gold teeth if something cracks up and private med care for the old bod. For the bottom layers if anything goes wrong in the mouth go to Dental Hospital or community health and you can pay $28 to give some brat practice at ripping teeth out – generally the only option these smarties can think of – practice they will appreciate when they graduate and go to work in an implant clinic for the rich. Should they be paying us for our time and damage suffered? Of course they bloody should. Since you ask.

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Work for the Dole template letter

18.5.2015.

Just for the record. Well put Dags!

Dole Action Group

Does your local council, favorite Op Shop or other local NGO intend to exploit unemployed workers on the government’s Work for the Dole program? Why not ask them and find out?

The Dole Action Group has prepared the following template letter for you to modify and use. Please change anything about it to suit your needs.



Dear ,

I am . I are writing to you about the Federal Government’s new Work for the Dole scheme, which as you probably know is being significantly expanded in July to job-seekers aged under 50 who have been receiving welfare payments for more than six months.

Will your organisation be participating in this policy and using people required to do Work for the Dole in any of its projects and services?

I respect commitment and ongoing work towards creating a fairer society. I share your commitment to .

It is with this in…

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Backing and filling

It has been a long time since 2012.  Rereading what I wrote then and not much has changed.  There are more teeth on the plates.  I still cant eat with the things in my mouth.   The good news though is that I was at a funeral/memorial service last week and  I got up to say a bit about the dear departed and everyone clapped when I finished which was pretty nice of them.  Then afterwards several came up to me and said how well I spoke.  And one said how great it was that they could hear every word I said even in the back row.  And I wasn’t even using the mike.

So that’s good.  The old gift of gab still works.  However the mouth remains uncomfortable after more than a few hours which severely limits social interaction and I cant eat anything except icecream or very soft cheesecake when out.

I noticed that back in 2012/2013 I complained of weight loss, heading for size 8.  Now heading for something lower.   A few weeks ago I was at doctor he wanted to do blood pressure but he said, after cutting off my circulation for a while, that he couldn’t tell me what it was, my arm was too thin for the cuff to sit round properly.  Very strange.  I am more tired and lacking in energy and strength.  Better go and eat.  I hope to be back in much less than 2 years.

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Back at the Dental Hospital

Three weeks ago, or four, I had to go and get yet another tooth out. One by one they all go. Worst experience ever. All the many other extractions I’ve had done since I finished my laughingly called “course of care” a few years back, have been done by the students and I’ve had no complaints. Other than that no one has ever thought to do anything but extract, extract, extract. Same treatment as you get in jail. Thats what being poor is like here in the idiot country. Students have been courteous, sensitive, careful. Three weeks ago I got a English qualified dentist. The moment I saw her soft little weak white hands I should’ve up and bolted. But sense diminishes in proportion to pain sometimes. Even through the anaesthetic I knew she was a botcher. It was a week before I could eat or speak much. Two weeks before the swelling and bruising died down. Another week before I realized that what I thought might be a bit of scab over the mess was a sharp bit of left over tooth bone still sticking out.

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May 24, 2013 · 4:47 pm

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May 24, 2013 · 4:45 pm

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May 24, 2013 · 4:36 pm