The Pickering Post
Thursday, 21st February 2019

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"Come meet my mate Jonathon"

Harry Richardson

Harry Richardson is a long-time student of Islam and author of best seller, "the Story Of Mohammed - Islam Unveiled',


“Hi Harry, do you want to come and meet my mate Jonathon? He reckons he knows how to fix the country.” “No worries Steve, but my car’s running a bit rough and needs looking at.” “That’s OK”, says Steve, “We can drop in on my other mate Macca, and he will have a look at it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked suspiciously, “It is a Rolls Royce you know.”

“Not a problem”, replied Steve, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

As we pull into Macca’s yard, I start to feel uneasy. This doesn’t look like a normal garage. It somehow looks more like a scrap yard.

“Hi,” I say nervously to Macca. “Can you have a look at my car, it is running a bit rough on idle sometimes.”

“That’s because the whole car is [email protected]#t,” says Macca. “It doesn’t even have a shower or toilet in it.”

“But no car has a shower or toilet in it,” I say, with growing alarm.

“Well this one will when I finish fixing it”, replies Macca.

“How are you going to fix it?” I ask suspiciously.

“Well, I’m going to smash it up into pieces with an axe, then I will put it all back together. Then, she will be the best car the world has ever seen,” declares Macca proudly.

“Have you ever done this before?” I ask Macca, thinking that he doesn’t look like he has much experience in this field.

“No, but my uncle did it to a bunch of cars and he told me all about it.”

“And how did that work out” I asked curiously?

“Terrible, just terrible” replied Macca, somewhat crestfallen, “they were only fit for junk when he was done, but don’t worry,” he added, brightening up noticeably, “I’m convinced that he did it wrong and I won’t be making the same mistakes. When I fix your car up, it will be the best car ever.”

“Well, er.. actually, I think I’ve changed my mind about that,” I tell Macca. “I think I might just find someone else to do the job.”

“Bugger that!” screamed Macca, leaping over the counter. “You have no right to that car, it should belong to everyone.”

Fortunately for us, his feet caught up in a fan belt that had been tossed carelessly on the counter and Macca came crashing down with a sickening thud. Before he hit the ground however, Steve and I were reversing up the drive at 60km/h leaving a couple of black stripes as the only sign we had ever been there.

“HOLY CRAP!” I blurted out to Steve, “that guy was a lunatic. Let’s hope your political mate Jonathon is a bit less crazy.”

Five minutes later, as we pull up at his friend’s house, things don’t look so promising. Steve’s friend, who introduces himself as Jonathon invites us in for a chat. Jonathon doesn’t look much like a politician to me, any more than Macca looked like a mechanic. He has dreadlocks, several piercings and a bunch of tattoos. Fortunately, he seems pleasant enough and we sit down and share a coffee.

“The political system here is a disaster”, declares Jonathon. “Some people are richer than others, some people work more than others, some people have swimming pools and others live in crappy places like this one. There is so much oppression and exploitation.”

“Well the system isn’t perfect,” I offer “and it could do with some changes, but it is still one of the best countries in the whole history of ever.”

“Rubbish,” says Jonathon. “The place is just [email protected]#t. Everyone should be equal and everyone should have what they want and not have to work too hard for it.”

“But no country has ever achieved that,” I protested. “What makes you think that it is even possible?”

“Oh, it is not only possible, I know how to do it”, declares Jonathon, glaring at me. “It’s called Socialism.”

“Really?” I ask him. “How does that work?”

“Simple,” replies Jonathon. “First, we tear apart the entire society, root and branch and destroy every part of the culture and institutions. Then, we build our brand-new workers’ paradise, which will be the best nation ever.”

“Has this ever been tried before?” I ask, with an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu.

“Oh yes”, replies Jonathon. “Many times in history, starting with the Soviet Union.”

“And how did that work out”, I ask.

“Terrible, just terrible,” replied Jonathon looking rather crestfallen.

“First they killed a bunch of those in charge, and that was OK, because they were rich. Then they started killing anyone who didn’t agree with them and that was OK too because they were enemies of the Revolution. Then they killed a whole bunch of the successful farmers called Kulaks and that was OK, because it made everyone more equal.”

“What happened then”, I asked after a long, awkward pause.

“Er, then a whole bunch of people starved to death. That was followed by an even more brutal dictator taking over who was even worse than the original bunch. That was when things got real bad. I think the final death toll was in the region of 50 or 60 million.”

“So, I guess they didn’t try that again?” I offered naively.

“They sure did, they tried it again in China”, said Jonathon.

“What happened that time?” I asked him.

“Hard to get exact figures, the Chinese play their cards close to their chest, but estimates vary around 38 million dead.”

“Any others of note?” I asked him curiously?”

“Pretty much all of them”, said Jonathon. “There was Vietnam with a major humanitarian catastrophe and Cambodia managed to wipe out around one third of its population. Most other countries had the same kind of issue but it’s hard to know exactly because Communist countries don’t allow information to leak out. Most of them are run like giant prison camps.”

“So why do you want to try this here?” I asked him curiously.

“Well we are convinced that this time will be completely different”, said Jonathon cheerfully. “We won’t make the same mistakes that they did. When we do it, everything will be just hunky dory, I just know it.”

“Hmm, so how are you intending to get the power to carry out this plan?” I asked him curiously.

“Well, we work inside established political parties to get part of our agenda through”, he replied earnestly. “You know, the bits that sound good, like more government spending on schools and hospitals. The banks are really on board with that, because they get to lend the government loads of fake money that they just print up. It’s really good business for them.”

“And how are you going to get the really unpopular parts through?” I asked him.

“Well, we’ll probably need the Communists for that. That’s those guys over there,” he said, gesturing to three guys who were busy passing a bong around. “Communists believe in implementing the Socialist agenda by force and by that, I mean killing anyone who gets in their way.”

“Well, I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade here”, I said, as tactfully as I could manage, “maybe it’s the fact that they are wearing eye shadow and nail polish, but those guys don’t look that tough, and there aren’t that many of them.”

“That’s OK, said Jonathon, we have that under control. Every time we get a Labor Government in power, we hand out thousands of passports to these Jihadist blokes. They love the idea of stealing from rich capitalists just as much as we do, and they are poor too. The best bit is that they just love killing people, especially those in power. They love us too. They always vote for us and so do their families which are huge. We had a chat about tearing down the society and remaking it into a whole new system and they thought that was a splendid idea. They are totally on board with it.”

“But aren’t their ideas and values just a teensy bit different to yours?” I asked cautiously.

“Oh yes, there are a few minor differences, but my Gender Studies teacher says that was all caused by colonialism and he should know, he’s a professor. Once we seize power, we can employ those guys driving taxis or collecting trolleys at the new government owned supermarkets. They seem to like doing those kinds of things. The Jihadists helped the Socialists with the Iranian Revolution and that worked out really well … er, I think.”

“Well”, I said, trying to sound calm and unfazed whilst backing up slowly towards the car, “that’s great! I hope you guys manage to create this wonderful Nirvana.”

“Wait”, said Jonathon, aren’t you going to hang around and help with the revolution?”

“Sorry”, I said, “I’m busy. I have to er… go back to Macca’s place and get my Rolls Royce fixed up.”

"This article is a work of pure fiction - except for the part about what Socialists believe."


Gladys.....and the Entire NSW Parliament...Every Day this will follow your Government.......Running a Taxpayer funded Brothel for those whom have Slaughtered Police officers and other Convicted Criminals just Don't cut the mustard, by a Bloody long shot........Cop Killers are getting home delivery SEX at the Taxpayers Expense, and you have the Fu*&ng Gall to say it is no offense....FFS....I can tell you UNEQUIVOCALLY that I am OFFENDED and so would Every NSW Police Officer you bloody DOG's...And that is my Polite response to your pathetic behavior....Imagine what the Victims of these Heinous offenses feel about that.....Have a Bloody Long Hard look in the mirror you Bastards.....

John McCain made propaganda tapes and was given special treatment as well.Also McCain also was the prick who always stopped any and all search for MIA in Vietnam,maybe hoping those who knew of his treasonous would never be found to expose him for what he really is

If the banks were nationalised could Australia's debt be written off ?
Well the Banks "money" was loaned to us on our promise to produce real wealth. What have the banks produced - nothing but debts. Banks parasite on our productivity - we finance our own loans, how does that make you feel? Banks produce numbers called dollars and charge interest on them.


I was rather shocked today to hear that in modern medicine there is such a procedure as a faecal transplant in which a recipient has a solution containing the donor’s poo inserted into his arse. It is supposed to promote health by insertion of good bacteria. One would imagine that good health prevails at Parliament House Canberra and at the Wankeratta Institute as there is plenty such sharing of bacteria at both locations.

Hundreds of migrants storm Spanish exclave Ceuta, some armed with homemade flamethrowers (VIDEO)

Great site when posters can make comments and have discussions between themselves without puerile interruptions, of course that's only allowed to happen when the TROLLS are having a skyping session and discussing posters form.........enjoy it while it lasts posters, they'll be back trying to control the content of posts before long.

program! app if you will.....

I'm presuming here you're using a PC

Too true Hunter, Trumby, and she'd be a Globalist for frigging sure. Wall Street and their Military Industrial Complex were central to it all. The country should have been RE-unified after the Geneva Accords 'guaranteeing' a plebiscite on this issue. Ho Chi Minh's main heroes were those of the American Revolution for Christ's sake. It was more - a very FITTING strong nationalism than anything resembling "Communism". Australia got a huge amount of pain and unnecessary division out of it. BTW, many of those who came in late and opposed the war (not all) were bandwagoners. Nothing much in common with them at the time and even less today.

Dusty : The USA should never had interfered in Vietnamese politics that led to them causing the war

Dusty the then US Secretary of Defence McNamara admitted 20 years on that the Gulf of Tonkin incident was bullshit. Meanwhile over 500 brave Australians KIA and thousands more left with life time health issues.

I think they stopped counting after 1500 Vietnam Veteran suicides.

Don't get me started on Iraq.

Put the kids to bed, there's a wicked witch at large...Madeleine Albright on Putin summit: I am worrying more...

Oh the Ball, the Ball at Goulburn Jail.
Where Cons were rootin’ warders, on the hour without fail!

Forty female warders all started to undress
And when the day was over, there were forty prisoners less!

Obeid was placed in solitary, eatin' bread and water
Obtaining sexual favours, at the hour past the quarter!

Ivan Milat he was there, a-sittin' in his cell
About to order sex, by ringin’ of the bell!

Oh, the serial killer he was there, but he had the Pox
He couldna' do the warders, so he did the condom box!

The head female warder she was there, chained up to the wall
"Put yer money on the table, boys, I'm going ta do you all!"

There was an announcement on the intercom, about a service for the Micks
You couldna' hear the message, for the swishin' o' the pricks!

They were doin' it on the gallows, standin’ on the stairs
You couldna' see the gibbet, for the wealth of pubic hairs!

The public hangman he was there, sittin' all alone
Complainin of the doin's with loud and piercing moans!

Premier Gladys she was there, and she was shocked to see
Four-and-twenty prisoners, rootin’ warders all for free!

It started out so simple-like: each crim and warder mated
But pretty soon the doin's, got so bloody complicated!

And when their stretch was over, the prisoners all confessed
Although they liked the porridge, the rootin’ was the best!


According to .Indignant Elder, it wasn't his fault he got sacked from his job. It was Dick Smiths fault.


that's one of the funniest lies by .Indignant Elder I've read thus far.

I see more to it than all that. There is a kind of continuum between that kind of comforting of the enemy and the widespread contemporary Feminist/Female support for the racial destruction of the European based nations. BTW, I say this, notwithstanding my view that that war should never have happened.

.Indignant Elder has to be the biggest fuckwit on this site. He hasn't got a clue who's who, what day it is or where he is. Doesn't he realize that nobody here listens to his bullshit, especially after we all saw him call Larry a cunt, yet he still thinks he can ride roughshod over Larrys blog. wot a loser .Indignant Elder is, he should die or fuck off back to the place of his birth. No room in this country for parasitic immigrants, especially dumb fucks like him.

Making a cunt of yourself again I see .Indignant Elder. Not once did I say I was leaving and you obviously can't speak English or are ashamed of your nickname. What has pouch got to do with anything fuckwit ?

Making a cunt of yourself again I see .Indignant Elder. Not once did I say I was leaving and you obviously can't speak English or are ashamed of your nickname. What has pouch got to do with anything fuckwit ?

Don't It Make You Want to Go Home - Joe South - 1969

I am recovering from the worst experience of my life. About a year ago I went to Aldis for some salad vegetables. In the fruit and veg department I met a deformed looking old wench promising me the best sex I would ever have. Assuming that she had a great grand daughter she wanted to pair me up with I went home with her. Her house was full of cat shit and cat piss and there was the biggest collection of the biggest electric dildo's I ever saw in my life. I escaped posters, barely hanging on to life after having the absolute shit scared out of me. The ugly old fat wench wanted me to pleasure her. I jumped into my Merc and drove for dear life as fast and as far away as I could get from her. Talk about a close call.