Ay Corona

Call me a bloody hippy, but much good will come out of this time of corona madness. A whole new world is waiting to be born

We have stopped buying plastic crap we don’t need that is shipped here from overseas

All children may get access to good schooling and new technology

We will stop working in jobs we hate to buy crap we think we want

People have stopped injecting their bodies with botulism toxin

Maybe we will finally close the gap and have good health outcomes for our first nations people

Kids who aren’t neurotypical and don’t fit into our one size fits all school system will have other options for learning

Neighbours are looking after lonely, elderly folk because they’re not at work all the time

Billionaires and foreign companies who make massive profits may actually have to pay some tax to put money back into society.

People have stopped adding plastic to their fingers and breathing in solvents painted on their toes

Foxtel may go bust with no live sport being played; good riddance Rupert

People will wake up and realise that housing is a human right, not an investment opportunity. We may get rid of over blown rents, negative gearing and have housing that is fair for all

Families will spend quality time together; eating, arguing and singing

The planet will breathe while we’re not stampeding through every river and canal throwing plastic bottles into the sea

We finally appreciate and give thanks to doctors, ambos, nurses, teachers, garbos, shelf stackers, child care workers, aged care lovelies, check out chicks and roosters and start to honour how they keep our society going with their hard work

We will stop buying too many clothes, and not prop up an industry that exploits too many underpaid workers in countries that have no labour laws.

We will grow our own food, share with our neighbours, distribute goods according to need

We will live according to the seasons and honour the ebb and flow of mother nature

We may start to fund our scientists and actually listen when they impart their knowledge

We will swap clothes with our friends, mend and repair broken bits and bobs and remember that compulsive shopping doesn’t fill our hearts

We will crave our connection to nature and appreciate every blade of grass once it is safe to be back in the world

Without organised religious gatherings, people will start to question their beliefs and maybe not hide the paedophiles

We may realise that we don’t need the latest technology to be happy

200,000 poker machines are now sitting idle

We will discover we don’t need to pollute the planet with balloons at gender reveal parties, we can actually live with surprises

We will wake up and stop listening to and voting for greedy mad men who can barely turn up to do their job and finally decide to elect visionary leaders

We can no longer queue and panic buy phones and shoes and other stuff that we really can live without

Huge floating Petri dishes have been stopped from polluting precious cities and oceans across the world

We will have time to dance and sing together (online) and tell our stories and have time with our babies without having to rush off to feed the planet destroying capitalist beast

People will find out the real value of a dollar or a euro and realise that the share market is a house of cards, favouring only the fortunate

And the dolphins and the fish and the worms and the birds will come out of hiding and say ‘what took you so long silly humans?’

This revolution will be televised


2020 vision

The Pollard definitive guide to enjoying 2020:

Pat puppies and kiss kittens

Don’t vote for morons

Eat, drink and be merry

Don’t buy ‘beauty’ products

Stay off the internet

Help a refugee family

Read books

Unsubscribe

Stop buying plastic crap

Thank firies, ambos and nurses

Check your emotional baggage

Get fresh on the dance floor

Support the Uluru Statement

Be kind, even to dickheads

Don’t use the words onboarding, textural or disruptor

Buy the Big Issue

Sing every day

Bring home the facon (don’t harm piggies)

Love your friends

Swim in the ocean

 

 

 

 


Christ Kringle

Dear Santa

Can we please have an inspiring prime minister like Jacinta Ardern or Justin Trudeau for Christmas?

All I want for Christmas is my dad, Stella Young, David Bowie, Prince, Alan Rickman, my friends Claire, Ant, Veljko and Marc to come back. I’ll swap you Trump, Barnaby Joyce, Tony Abbott, Rupert Murdoch, the cast of any of the Bachie shows, the Sunrise panel and that dolt Dutton.

And let’s close the gap, give indigenous kids back to their communities to heal, and also get kids out of detention ploise, they don’t belong there and neither do their parents

K?

All I really want for Christmas is a cocker spaniel and a house to put him in


Black hole Friday

Apparently, on Black Friday spiritual satisfaction can be gained through sales. This morning I woke to find that I missed the weekend to give thanks, but Black Friday frenzy can be enjoyed even on Cyber Monday. I’d love to turn Monday into Friday, but beware if you are tempted to take advantage of a late offer on the Black Friday sales, think about America. Fighting, shooting, looting, one person shot dead, sounds like a fun day out spending money we don’t have on shit we don’t need to me.
Cyber Monday has a high rating on the official Australian who gives a rat’s arse-o-metre. Don’t be tempted. it’s not your last chance. Like John Farnham comeback tour tickets, you know deep in your carb-loaded core that all this stuff will be online again. Over purchasing as a religious experience landed America a buy now, pay later president. We don’t need to copy them.

The family with an obsession with K’s will also tell you repeatedly that using a credit card is a talent. It isn’t. We don’t need new pots, we buy crap to fill the gaping hole in our feelings. Finding a bargain won’t make us happy. We need to make mindless consumerism as popular as Dolce and Gabbana in Shanghai. Supermarkets don’t have a happiness aisle selling unicorns. I’ve checked.

Getting into debt is not the way to fulfillment. When we are rich in shopping bags, we become poor in mental acuity. Like a Hillsong church, rich consumerism has only lead to poor spiritualism. Your mindless purchases may include all natural, non-toxic, free shipping. But happiness is sold separately.


Farcebook

I will never understand why people apologise for not posting on their Facebook or Instagram pages for a few days or weeks. It’s a photo of your dog giving up carbs, or your breakfast or an opinion on your dog having breakfast without carbs, and God knows the world doesn’t need any more opinions. If Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Insta, MyTwitFace, Snapchat, LookAtMe, SelfiesRus whatever all closed down tonight nothing would actually happen. No one’s life would change if a minor young celebrity missed a few days posting on YouTube and actually went out into the real world and achieved contact with their fellow humans and didn’t document every fart. If Tumblr folded tomorrow that may push a lot of awful angst-filled young poets slash artists slash waiters offline but I can live with that.

Facebook as a platform has become like an old high school friend who keeps sending you invitations to pyramid selling parties disguised as fun-filled reunions. You kind of want to stay in touch but then you remember that the drama and the detail and the requests to buy from their brother’s online vitamin business have become so annoying that you wonder why you bother. I check my news feed and think, yes I’m guilty as charged, I’ve bored people to tears with descriptions of my eating habits, or family or 500 too many photos of a holiday, but some days I can’t face reading about someone I last saw in person four years ago doing the same. In the political sphere, Farcebook has become a redneck wonderland and I just don’t have the energy to deal with it.

Yes, I love the witty people, and the connection with dear ones who live overseas and the camaraderie of groups of people with whom you share a passion or career, but for the love of the goddesses, can we filter out the passive-aggressive questions aimed at god-knows-who, the ill-thought-out spelling of your/youre/Ur, the I’ve lost six kilos today, conspiracy theories and the humble bragging?

We need editing filters on all our social media accounts that say, This post is dull or derived from an uninformed and uneducated view of the world, are you really sure you want to post this? This post will be muted for the good of humanity.

Ah, the irony. Of course, I’ve linked this whinge of a blog post to publish on Facebook and Twitter. Hope to see you living in the real world one year soon.


Addicted

This week we learned that we must no longer go online because bad people will steal our identities, our children will turn into Minecraft addicted zombie bots (too late) and we’ll all start speaking Russian and worshipping Putin.

This is a blog post about why you shouldn’t be reading my blog online because your health will suffer. It is harmful to be on the Internet. Please direct lots of people here and make a habit of visiting my site because it will help my stats, but don’t become dependent. It will be your fault dear readers if you give me insomnia while I stay up all night dealing with all the comments and emails and awkward conversations that your online obsession provokes. You’ll be fine on my blog, but don’t visit any other websites, and please make sure you don’t tell Cambridge Analytica that you have been reading this post. And don’t comment with the F word or Mark Zuckerberg’s lawyers will come to your house late at night and steal your thoughts.

Isn’t our world moronic? Don’t you think?

This post has been brought to you by the Alanis Morrissette school of irony and Instagram influencer mothers posting photos of their kids playing #devicefree and #technologyfree while those mothers profit from these same kids’ lives on social media.

#irony

Ed Byrne on Irony


Black cat crossing…

Happy Halloween.

On October 31st I’m going trick or treating in our PM Malcolm Turnbull’s street in Point Piper. I’m going to wear my lovely signature single mother ghoulish fashion; my statement piece is a T-shirt saying:

Liberal Government Have Ended Negative Gearing 

On the back it says:

Tax Rate for BRW Rich Listers Rises to 73%

 

Hopefully, I will scare the sinister people in Malcolm’s neighbourhood and if the AFP let me stay, there may even be a sighting of the ghost of Turnbull’s leadership. As our Prime Minister will be in Israel, perhaps his servants will join me in the hunt for Turnbull’s spine but I may just end up with a cauldron full of broken promises.

 

Then on the Day of the Dead, November 1st, I’m going to hop on my broomstick and haunt the streets of Mal’s Wentworth electorate dressed as a bat in a Barnaby Joyce mask. Anyone want to help me trick some very spooky politicians?

 

Remember to eat, drink and be scary


Not normal

Last night I came home late and found this piece of junk mail in my letterbox delivered by the coalition for marriage.


These unChristians could be spending money sheltering homeless people or sending aid to the Rohingya people, Mexico or Puerto Rico, but instead they waste their money on printing their lies about LGBTQIA families, based on made up fairy tales and their limited definition of what it means to be a family. As a single mum, I also object to being told that my family is not the norm.

What is normal? Urban Dictionary says, that normal is a word used as a tool of conformity. It is not normal for Christians to promote hating their fellow man.

Coalition for the disparagement of truth, every word they have printed is a lie. Promoting hate and division is not what Jesus did.

As Maya Angelou said,

“Hate, it has caused a lot of problems in the world, but has not solved one yet.”

 

 

 


Kids In The Kitchen

Apparently you have to feed kids good nutrition to help ’em grow. But frankly, I’m sick of cooking. Once upon a time I worked with a woman selling merchandise who wasn’t brilliant at customer service. We used to jokingly say to her, “This shop would run smoothly if these stupid customers stopped coming in,” and I feel the same about my kids coming into the kitchen. I’d have a clean house if it wasn’t for these grotty teenagers. So at dinner time, my kids get two choices, like it or lump it. My daughters usually swap the inedible contents of their lunchboxes for their unsuspecting school friends’ more tasty morsels.

 

I’ve written a comedy show about my lack of enthusiasm for being left in charge of catering, frankly it’s a job that I’m underwhelmed and ill-equipped to handle, but it has provided my children many opportunities to laugh at me. And made them good cooks.

I’d love you to bring foodie friends to my funny show as I embark on a quest to outsource the catering. You’ll laugh your guts up as I enlist the audience in my hunt for a personal cooking slave. This show contains bad cooking and more culinary disasters than a season of Gordon Ramsay, along with sensational stand-up and me singing a few tunes. If you’re tired of smashing your own avocados, come to Lou Pollard in Kids In The Kitchen for the 2017 Sydney Comedy Festival at Matchbox – The Factory Theatre, 105 Victoria Road Marrickville on Saturday 6th May at 5.45pm and Sunday 7 May 2017 at 4.45pm

 

Book tix: 2017 Sydney Comedy Festival tickets for Lou Pollard

Lou Pollard’s Looking For Mike Brady show is a joyous, wonderfully warped, true, raw romp through the minefields and thickets that beset dating, single parenthood and the predations of ageing.

**** Four stars – themusic.com.au

Lou & Wednesday Kids in the Kitchen


Dear Santa

G’day. Here’s my last minute Christmas list for you. I’ve been very busy this year, so as I haven’t really had time to be naughty I think I’m in with a chance of getting a few of these items. So this Christmas I wish  you could:

 

  1. Please send really sick kids home from children’s hospitals with good health
  2. Please give their parents a restful break
  3. Please find homes for homeless people, especially those battling snow and bitter winds
  4. Please change the gun laws in the US
  5. Please outlaw the over-supply of greedy real estate agents who profit from people’s basic need for housing
  6. Please give the tectonic plates a rest for a while
  7. Please kick out politicians who put their own personal profits ahead of the health, harmony, safety and education of the nation they pretend to be serving
  8. Please send French champagne and chocolates to my loved ones while I have a lie down
  9. Please keep an eye on my eldest as she adventures through the wilds of South America
  10. Please tell whoever is in charge of choosing who dies (I don’t know where they are, maybe in the office next to yours at the North Pole?) not to take any more of our fabulous artists. Can this entity please choose despots, thugs and so-called success coaches in 2017 instead?

 

I’m trying not to be greedy but some peace, love, joy, giggles, goodwill, gratitude, patience, kisses, health, harmony, dark chocolate, extra light for Channukah, belly laughter, hugs, respect and no new Mariah Carey singles for a while would be ace too

 

Thanks mate, I’ve got beer waiting for you as long as your reindeer poo out the back of my garden