The Pickering Post
Friday, 14th December 2018

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... you couldn't give a stuff about safety

Larry Pickering

Four-time Walkley Award winning political commentator and Churchill Fellow, has returned to the fray over concern that the integrity of news dissemination is continually being threatened by a partisan media.


Bill Shorten thinks he can make truckies responsible and stop them taking drugs. Little does he realise that without speed pills there would be a semi trailer accident on every bend with dead people strewn everywhere. Private truck operators do it really tough and they don't need to be unionised by Shorten.

I used to do the grape run from Barossa and back to Flemington Markets four times a week for ten weeks each year and made do with no more than four hours broken sleep a week. I was always exhausted but I was clearing four grand a week selling the grapes at a 50% markup and paying a commission per box to the union that covered Flemington Markets. Eventually I found my own private Italian grappa buyers and stopped paying the union blokes.

I would load up with empties at Flemington and get them fumigated at Bordertown before pulling into Tanunda, offloading the empties and loading up to 40 ton of red grapes by hand, without help... no fork lifts, no nothing.

Each trip the trailer was so overloaded there was a dip in the middle despite most of the weight being over the axles. From memory the maximum weight allowed per axle was 14 ton. I was double that and copped a 25 quid a ton fine if they could catch me.

Early one morning, I was just outside Melbourne on the way back to the markets. I was cruising down a hill near Keilor. The truck was in angel gear (neutral) and the massive load was propelling me down this hill. The faster I hit the dip the fewer gear changes I would need on the way up the other side.

I was half way down with the needle rapidly rising above 135 MPH and I could see the pedestrian crossing in the dip. I wasn’t concerned as it was far too early for anyone to be using it.

I was determined to hit the dip about 180mph, when a woman and a little girl appeared and began to cross. “Faaaarrk!!!! Please don’t cross now”, I yelled, slamming on the trailer brakes.

As soon as the trailer brakes grabbed, I stamped with all my weight on the cabin brakes. I couldn’t do any more except try to keep the bucking rig balanced. I didn’t think it would stop in time. Most of the wheels were grabbing and skidding hopelessly, causing the entire semi to vibrate.

The whole rig was rocking violently. Any minute I expected the load of grapes to come through the back window and land on my neck.

With barely 10 feet to go the truck shuddered to a stop, still swaying. Stinking clouds of hot blue smoke washed over the truck and on to the pedestrian crossing.

I was sweating profusely and shaking like a leaf. I could feel my heart banging as the lady had the little girl by the hand and continued to cross. The little girl raised her handbag toward me (I wasn’t sure if she was waving at me or showing me her new white handbag). Her mother just nodded politely at me. The little girl was dressed in a brown skirt with a yellow blouse and hat. Her mother was in a white skirt and a sailor style blue blouse. Her clicking high heels echoed as she walked.

“What the hell were they doing here this time of morning?” I wondered.

I got out and tightened all the ropes on the load, then put the truck in first gear and began the long, tortuous haul up the hill facing me.

But it never happened. There was no pedestrian crossing, no lady and no little girl. I actually knew it hadn’t happened. It was just another hallucination from the speed pills. But it was impossible to deny such stark reality

It happened a lot. I had stopped once to get a stick from the side of the road so I could chase zebras off the highway.

It was so real. I could smell their distinctive horse odour as I was belting the shit out of these zebras. It happened to all of us often and when we saw another rig parked in the middle of the highway we would stop to help the poor bastard.

With three more weeks to go ‘til the end of the grape season, I was starting to think I wouldn’t make it. I had been lucky to get a half hour's sleep a week at the fumigation point for the past seven weeks. I vomited all the last week of the season. I couldn’t eat and couldn’t keep the pills down. I didn’t know how many I had taken and I wasn’t going to sift through the vomit to find out. I would simply take another handful.

I got through my last season somehow but I was sick. Really crook.

I spent some time at home with my family. The profit was mostly gone with fines and I was thinking what a fool I was.

I felt like I had to get some more speed pills so I could feel a fraction better and get back to work so I rang my supplier. “What are you driving now mate?” he asked.

“I’m not”, I said. “Well fuck orf, mate. You can only have these if you are workin!” “Shit!”, I thought.

Later I really appreciated his refusal. It was an unwritten law with the truckies. The pills were not to be used outside a truck. We were not druggies, we were merely trying to stay alive. Without them we would certainly have died and taken others with us.

I got over it somehow and decided the risk of further grape runs was too great so I sold the truck at a loss and moved on. Oh well, shit happens for us, Mr Shorten, how are you doin?.


Got it wrong from the start, Your headline. Shorten doesn't now the meaning of the word truth. It comes from a systemic system within the labor party.

Geez you really needs a good bitch slapping into next week ,I'm not a cahoot of what seems to be one who knows you well,you are the horse muffin who has always brought my handle up,around you it seems no one can answer a post from another, you don't own this site and if LP had any sense he'd drop all you proxy users like a hot potato as by using a proxy shows you have something to hide, so once more get it into your thick deluded shitzo head, leave me out of the crap you seem to thrive on, again FO you POS

Skitzo thing you are HH, told you before many times leave me out of your crap

When the shearing sheds are silent and the stock camps fallen quiet
When the gidgee coals no longer glow across the outback night
And the bush is forced to hang a sign, 'gone broke and won't be back'
And spirits fear to find a way beyond the beaten track
When harvesters stand derelict upon the wind swept plains
And brave hearts pin their hopes no more on chance of loving rains
When a hundred outback settlements are ghost towns overnight
When we've lost the drive and heart we had to once more see us right
When 'Pioneer' means a stereo and 'Digger' some backhoe
And the 'Outback' is behind the house, there's nowhere else to go
And 'Anzac' is a biscuit brand and probably foreign owned
And education really means brainwashed and neatly cloned
When you have to bake a loaf of bread to make a decent crust
And our heritage once enshrined in gold is crumbling to dust
And old folk pay their camping fees on land for which they fought
And fishing is a great escape; this is until you're caught
When you see our kids with yankee caps and resentment in their eyes
And the soaring crime and hopeless hearts is no longer a surprise
When the name of RM Williams is a yuppie clothing brand
Not a product of our heritage that grew off the land
When offering a hand makes people think you'll amputate
And two dogs meeting in the street is what you call a 'Mate'
When 'Political Correctness' has replaced all common sense
When you're forced to see it their way, there's no sitting on the fence
Yes one day you might find yourself an outcast in this land
Perhaps your heart will tell you then, '. I should have made a stand'
Just go and ask the farmers that should remove all doubt
Then join the swelling ranks who say, 'don't sell Australia out'
Author unknown

Political Correctness
A humanist ultra-liberal and agnostic view on race, gender, class,
nationalism, the environment and unlimited sexual orientation. It
demands that citizens must atone for their society's past and present
exploitation of indigenes, blacks, ethnics, the enslavement of
women and the persecution of homosexuals.
It is designed to ridicule and denigrate our religious beliefs and
traditional Christian customs and values and bring our nationalist
cultural heritage into contempt in favour of a new world order
where the elitist group will present a humanist nirvana
It corrodes belief in current norms of behavior and traditional
values. It confuses the mind and changes the meaning of words in
our language. Through fear of offending others free speech is
severely restricted and any opposition to political correctness is
said to be racist, sexist, bigoted and outdated. Thus politicians,
administrators and law enforcement are castrated and made
Maximum opposition and exposure for what it is namely – THE
The adventurous and patriotic ANZACS would never have
tolerated the intimidation and restrictions on free speech imposed
by political correctness.

Where is the freedom we fought for?
by Ray Smyth
Where is the freedom we fought for?
Where is the glory we won?
When we stood against Japanese bayonets,
And the malice and might of the Hun?
We fought then for mothers and daughters,
And speech untrammeled with chains,
For freedom, for glory, for honour,
And a flag unsullied by stains.
But the eyes that beheld such emotion,
That watered the victory dance,
Now weep with a different passion,
Through spectacles made to enhance.
The things that we once fought and died for,
Are held in little esteem,
And the people that populate our country,
Have lost the Australian dream.
Gone is that noble spirit,
So brash, independent and free,
That stood, nothing daunted, against them,
Like a strong and mighty oak tree.
Instead they've stolen our backbone,
Replaced it with corporate might,
And children reign over their parents,
And stay well away from the light.
But still in the night I can see them,
Those heroes who marched o'er the plain,
Who stand and cry four our country,
Hearts filled with sadness and pain.
They cry for the young and forgotten,
Whose minds every now and then stray,
To the old book and motive for living,
That calls them from so far away.


Xxxx Lights. Always.

goodness me, according to some posters here, you Harry m'dear, are pretty much everyone on the site!! you must be so busy loggin' on and off your personas, i wonder you get any time to post anything ! and the lamp genie no wants here was sayin' last night that i'm you an' you're me. as an oldie, i am gettin' very confused. like Harry Houdini, some days i'm no sure who ah am. you know I am very attached to you, but i don't want to be you !! and vice versa, i'm sure :-))) hahahhaha

Just one for the road, you poor gender confused HORSES ARSE, now goodbye

When I was in business, we used "back loads" a great deal when shipping West to East. These were negotiated with a couple of non union small fleet operators. the majority of road freight was from the East to Perth, and the rates charged covered the return trip. So, any return loads were appreciated. This system also worked for light airfreight parcels as well. Now ,it seems that the Big Truck Operators and the Union want to stop this practice so that those of us who managed to secure lower rates will have to pay the standard rate; no negotiation. THAT's what this is about as well as forcing truckies to join union infested main truck coys. Very clever tactics though;thank goodness that Turnbull sussed this out and belatedly canned it. Shorten's a sneaky little shit.

watching you perform has it's pleasures, as it does show what a twisted mind you have, like before you are on my ignore list as you for one are a complete waste of space and time,

I've told you many times VS, leave me out of the crap you cause with your many proxy names, being the generous benefactor to BW has actually shown that you were double dipping there , now once more leave me out of the BS you spout

Sounds like TP should read that Dusty, especially when it comes to the banking system.

In particular, the ‘American’ banking system creates trillions of dollars out of thin air, then sells them to the rest of the world in exchange for the real goods and materials that buy the compliance of the American people while they themselves are robbed blind and dispossessed by the same criminals.

Without reading the article I know Cameron the filthy low life will do his utmost to keep Britain in the EU. Why? Because like virtually all prime ministers he is just a puppet who does the elites bidding.

There was this guy that when given the ground arms command he'd place it down the wrong way. Went on for two weeks. Weird, but a really nice guy, a thorough gentleman actually.

37, lovely.

Harry...unfortunately arthritis is precluding exercise....I am just managing to look after my spacious home.....just. Both hips replaced, compound fracture of the ankle the other ankle shot...wobbling around fearful of another damaging fall. I am enjoy the diabetic diet my version removing no nos as advised by the list of good and bad i received from the medical centre

KMA...a long walk off a short jetty

I was there Flysa but not in Scotch cadet uniform. You must be a couple of years older.