When the cat’s away. Kittens get really lonely. Meow!
March 5th 2008 18:59
Meow!
Leaving Whyalla
Dad wanted to move to the city. Adelaide. The city of churches and sexual deviants. Where he could get a job as an electrician working for another electrician. Mum wanted to go to the country. For my sake. So I didn’t get corrupted in Adelaide by paedophile judges and lawyers, I guess. And turn into a sex fiend.
Man proposes and God disposes.
And the devil interposes.
And can form a sex fiend anywhere. If your parents help him out a bit. By ignoring and neglecting a child. Leaving the child to its own devices.
When the cat’s away, kittens get really lonely. Meow!
Mum wouldn’t have minded if I’d been an Adelaide judge or lawyer though. As long as I didn’t tell her what I did during the 164 hours per week when I wasn’t working and earning obscene amounts of money.
She could have pointed me out to her friends when I was on TV. On the news. After having sent another paedophile to jail. “That’s my son. The lawyer.”
If I hadn’t done what I did, I would have made an excellent judge or lawyer.
“The honourable Kevin Mader, QC, presiding. All stand.” “Please be seated,” I’d say. In velvety smooth tones. The type that come in handy when you’re a wealthy paedophile.
I might have killed lots of people, but I was never into dress-up. And I’m not gay.
I’ve often wondered about what a ‘bar exam’ is in Adelaide. How hard it is to pass.
I’d probably have removed my wig. Injected a bit of heterosexuality into an Adelaide courtroom. The first judge not into dress up. And lost my job?
Adelaide wouldn’t have only been known as the capital city in the first Australian state to approve of homosexuality during Don Dunstan’s reign as premier. It would be known as the first Australian city to sack a heterosexual judge. Purely on the basis of his straight sexuality.
And set another precedent? For other states to follow?
I’ve never bashed a poofta down at the River Torrens. I believe it’s wrong. I prefer laughing at them. When the politically correct and morally confused aren’t around. Boy scouts who have lost their moral compass.
“Akela. We’ll do our best. Dib, dib, dib. Dob, dob dob.” And carry two hankies around. Be prepared. For what? Akela’s advances?
Or telling them my hobby is using a huge knife to cut poofta’s arseholes out of their bums, and eating them. Giving them a bit of shock value convo back. When they come on to me with their effeminate, faggoty talk. If they knew what I’d done, they wouldn’t try to shock me with outrageously camp talk. It’s quite sickening. Where have all the real men gone?
Love the sinner. Hate the sin. (St Augustine).
“The honourable Kevin Mader, QC, ruling.”
“Having viewed the evidence from both parties. Well, skimmed over parts of it. Okay, so I looked at the outside of the Manila folders. From both the prosecution and defence. And used the odd page inside to light a cigar. In my chamber. And have reached my learned conclusion. I find not just both parties guilty of child neglect and soul murder, but also the prosecution and defence members, and the entire jury. And the macabre spectators in the public gallery. Whom I consider ghouls. And sentence you all to die. Right now.” Then pull out a semi-automatic gun and shoot everyone. A definitive ruling. Because it’s impossible to shoot all of society. Or the system. And you can only do your best in life. And not worry about striving for perfection. You’ll only end up with perfectionist’s OCD.
Then, I would have just sat back and sipped Scotch. Johnny Walker Blue Label. Poured half of the bottle on the floor. Because I can afford to. And congratulated myself on a job well done. Another good four hours work for the week. And lit another cigar. Using my wig as a Zippo. Then just sat back and waited to be arrested. By a couple of corrupt SA Police force members. CIB detectives from Norwood. Live-in partners. Because it’s legal. According to the civil law. Not the moral law. While I prepared a defence in my head for a multiple homicide charge. Based on what’s wrong with the law. Something along the lines of, Separate Church and State. And while you’re at it, separate man completely from God.
Adelaide. The city of … Life imitating my imagination.
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