Sonia’s life hacks

Hi, I’m Sonia, and as well as being a famous ex-dancer, TV wonder girl, motivational guru and gifted Botox devotee, I like to inspire and uplift my fellow mainly white Australians with the love I feel for other fearful Christian human beings. Today I hope we can all:

Dance like Sam Newman is watching

Pop pills like we’re Eddie Maguire

Work like Tony Abbott’s publicist

Love like Michelle Bridges looking in the mirror

Genuflect like Roxy Jacenko

Sing like the Madden brothers mentoring themselves in the shower

Live like we’re in Queensland in 1952

Ponder the deep meaning of our existance like Donald Trump’s wife

Drink like we’re Ben Cousins

Smile like we’ve had dermal fillers

For now you beautiful pale Aussies, Keep Calm and Dance like Sonia


We’ve got to find a way

My heart weeps for the children of Syria, Orlando, Baghdad and Nice, I feel powerless to change the hatred and fear gripping parts of our world. What the hell can we do?


Going back to work choices

I love the fact that the Australian people have spoken, and the message is clear: ‘We don’t like the way you’ve been running the joint.’ Whoever we end up with running our parliament, they will have a tough time passing legislation without consultation. I’m hoping the independent pollies will ‘keep the bastards honest.’

 

Henry Ford advocated an 8-hour day for his assembly line workers because research demonstrated that worker productivity tanked after more than eight hours. As Brigid Schulte documents in her book, Overwhelmed: Work, Love and Play When No One Has the Time, humans can only take so much for so long. When a workplace is full of overworked employees, those employees will be exhausted and incapable of showing creativity or making good decisions.

 

How did we end up in a world full of over paid executives who own too many houses and underpaid employees who own none? Capitalism sucks the life out of many for the benefit of a few. Our world is changing and those who want to stay stuck in the old ways are in for a rude shock. With the number of women politicians increasing hopefully we’ll gain some balance.

 

Billy Bragg – Waiting For The Great Leap Forward

 


Trust me, I’m a politician

I’m hoping and praying that when I return to Australia we will have a parliament made up of a diverse group of female and male politicians, but I fear that nothing has changed. I should look on the bright side; another long torturous federal election campaign is over. There was almost a double dissolution, a budget, lots of pontifimacating about, “jobs and growth,” and eighty billion weeks of campaigning buffoons to endure.

I met a man who reminded me that voting is a privilege. “In my home country I wasn’t allowed to vote,” he told me.

Every night on TV we suffered idiots in suits who protect their mates and do very little to turn us into a clever country. Having watched them run a campaign in 2015, what disturbs me most about the Liberal party male power machine is not their political views but their lack of empathy. I didn’t hear any of them speak about helping their fellow humans in a real way. That’s a motherhood statement.

I learnt a lot standing as a politician in 2015. Don’t call swinging voters swingers at a community forum packed with senior citizens. Why did I want to be a politician? I got ahead of myself and imagined spending taxpayer dollars on homeless people, animal shelters and counselling for women victims of domestic violence. I met David Gonski. A rich banker who lives in Point Piper who actually knows how to fix our education system so it is fair to all kids, and the bastard politicians won’t even listen to him.

If I ever venture into politics again, I’ll start the single mother party. I will be the minister for cramped housing, over breeding and goon bags. If current politicians can rort their way into helicopter travel, when I’m elected every child of a single mum will receive a pony. but maybe I’ll just throw a party. Only smart people who want to save the planet can come. You with me? My slogan: Single mothers like to party. BYO cask wine and Prozac.

Spoken and authorised by Lou Pollard for the Single Mothers Like to Party Party.

The individual whose vision encompasses the whole world often feels nowhere so hedged in and out of touch with his surroundings as in his native land.

Emma Goldman

UB40 If It Happens Again
 

 


I don’t mean to be rude but…..

When married people say,

“My husband/spouse/ball and chain is away for a weekend, a week or three months, so I’m a single parent,” I grit my teeth.

No, you’re not. Your partner, though absent, is still contributing financially and emotionally to the other partner’s well being and that of the children. and when the absent partner returns they often do things that compensate for their absence. Single parenting with no other parent helping financially, mentally and emotionally on a day to day basis is not how children should be raised. It’s too much stress on one person.

Stress makes us humans crazy and sick, so my oldest childhood friend and I, who is also a single mum, have escaped. By the time you read this we will be somewhere in Norway searching the fjords for strapping vikings. Our dear friend bought us air tickets so we could attend his wedding in Oslo. I won the lottery when it comes to the wealth of my friendships. Skal!

Motherhood is not what you gave up to have your kids, but what you gained from having them


If voting changed anything they’d make it illegal

Politics? Anyone still interested? In Australia we are near the end of one of our longest ever election campaigns. In the US the fun has barely started.

Our world is in a mess.

Australia’s land clearing emissions have nearly doubled in the last three years. Most Australians want the Great Barrier Reef saved at the expense of coal mining. Idiot conservatives who have protected paedophiles for decades want to waste hundreds of millions of dollars on a same sex marriage plebiscite, babies are being harmed in detention centres, and many of our politicians pay lip service to ending violence against women. Funding to the arts and education have been slashed.

For the future health of our children, no further open cut mining or coal seam gas drilling should be permitted in residential or good agricultural land or near our waterways. Our long-term future is more important than coal, and nothing can replace the loss of our food bowl. To ensure a fossil fuel-free future we must vote the dinosaurs out of our parliaments.

This election, vote wisely. On Saturday July 2nd, we get to decide our next prime minister (until he gets knifed in the back by one of his party faithful).

Please think about what you’re voting for. You control your preference in the order you choose. Handouts at the polling booth are the way each party wants you to vote for their own best results, which is usually not the ideal outcome for the future of our country. It is time to make our votes count. We must honour the legacy of Jo Cox. 

Your vote is powerful.

In the voting booth, everyone is equal – Barbara Boxer

UB 40 If it Happens Again


That’s good enough for me…

Last week I arrived at my mother’s nursing home to find she was watching Julie Andrews on the big screen TV with a group of other residents. She was very happy singing along to Edelweiss and Climb Every Mountain.

Then I read that a study by U.S. scientists has shown that the brain function of those suffering from dementia can be improved if they belt out their favourite show tunes.

Researchers working with elderly residents at a US East Coast care home in a four-month long study found that people who sang their favorite songs showed a marked improvement compared to those who just listened.

Among the songs sung during 50-minute sessions were hits from The Wizard of Oz, Oklahoma and The Sound of Music.

The most improvement was among those sufferers with moderate to severe dementia. I must keep my mama singing.

When my kids put me in a home for bewildered single mothers, hopefully I’ll be busting some moves to Gett Off by Prince, and my favourite Stevie Wonder and Chaka Khan tunes. But I’ll probably be warbling, “C is for Cookie, Cookie, Cookie, Cookie start with C. Yeah!” on repeat.

C is for Cookie


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