It really gets to me when people rave about their jobs and how fulfilling they are. You can’t tell me that, given the choice to work or, conversely, do absolutely whatever you want, you’d pick work. Given that choice, I’d be in Bora Bora, covered in coconut oil in a rank Hawaiian shirt getting fanned by one of the natives with a Pina Colada in my hand. That’d be fucking glorious. Work quickly becomes a grind regardless of how good your job is (and I quite enjoy mine, comparatively). Sometimes, when I’m leaving work, I’ll rub my shoes on the carpet and give myself a little static electric shock on the metal door handle on my way out. It lets me know that I can still feel…

Whilst we’re on the topic of work, let’s talk about fucking unions. Part of Melbourne’s CBD was brought to a standstill on Monday morning as union workers from the CFMEU picketed large Australian construction company Grocon’s development site for the new Myer Emporium (which they’re currently in the process of building). Specifically, the union workers were protesting about Grocon hiring non-union labour for this site and were hurling tirades of abuse at the non-union workers as they tried to enter the work site, yelling union classics such as “scab” and “fucking dog” as they entered.

Grocon has been in and out of court with the CFMEU a number of times this year. They successfully achieved an injunction against a separate CFMEU picket in Footscray several days ago, only to have another union fire catch alight in the CBD. The union has had some truly fucking ridiculous demands, including their request to be able to fly union flags from cranes and access Grocon sites without permission and with less than a days’ notice.

Tense scenes in the foreground of the Pudgy Panda…

Flying flags from cranes, what the fuck is this? Are these fuckwits 10 years old? Who gives a shit?

It’s so fucking classic that this bunch of jokers wants to down tools and disrupt everyone else’s working day while they shirk work and clog up vital city streets on a Monday morning (of all fucking mornings), chanting “The people, united, will never be defeated” like the rest of us actually give a shit about them or their ridiculous fucking plight. I say well done to the non-union workers. They obviously don’t have an issue with the conditions and are more than willing to work while the CFMEU dickheads stand out the front with their dicks in each others’ hands like petulant school children.

I always joke that you can tell a union representative from the way they look; generally they’ll be a little pigeon-chested, hunch-backed, pasty and will avoid eye contact where possible. If you shake their hand (for some strange reason), expect a slimy, tepid hand and a limp-wristed handshake that’d make a stroke victim laugh in return. They never do any work of their own, they’re too busy standing up for the rights of the worker… yeah right.

I remember from when I used to work at the casino in Hobart that there were union representatives from LHMU that were very forceful in how they approached new staff members to try and get them signed up for the union. I was undertaking induction in 2006 when, in the break, a union rep literally told me to join. Point blank. He stood over my shoulder and waited expectedly for me to sign.

Unions have been known for decades to employ thugs in order to influence decisions and ‘convince’ workers to join their group. People like John Setka, one of Australia’s most powerful unionists and a piece of shit who has been found guilty of 40 separate offences over the years including being found guilty five times of assault by kicking. A bloke who kicks someone once is a cunt. A bloke who kicks someone five times is a union cunt.

/end communication