A guy kicks his girlfriend in the back, breaking it, and gets off with community work and a fine that he’ll barely notice.

And there’s no comment from Garth McFuckface and his Idiot Sentencing Trust? Why ever not?

Could it be ’cause Tony Veitch is wealthy and white?

Mirrored from Radio Over Moscow.

Here are some of the pics we found on the laptop. I know I made the last entry friends-only, but fuck it. If you missed that one, sign in to get the story, and then check these out. I've shrunk the pics to make it easy on your bandwidth - 17 pics, each about 20k. This right here is Mr I-Tattooed-My-Chest-With-Guns' Facebook page... It's open to anyone, so if you sign in, you can see how much of a loser this fuck is.

I'm not going to write his name here, lest he knows how to use Google.
( Click here to check it out... )

Yeah, that is who you (might) think it is in the last two pics. You'd think she had learnt her lesson, huh? It's no coincedence her pics are here, seeing as she's been leaving messages on his Facebook recently.

EDIT: I've made this public now.

The police recovered our old laptop. We retrieved it last night, turned it on and found the crim who stole it had changed the username and password. The password hint was 'CASH'. It took me only four guesses (two, if you don't count upper/lower case attempts) to crack that code: I typed 'MONEY' and was in.

And wow.

There was over a gigabyte of photos and videos of the crim, his mates and their activities stored on the hard drive. Hundreds of high-quality images of he whom I shall refer to as Ice, at this stage, after his likeness Vanilla Ice (or P-Money, but P-Money could probably find me, and I doubt Vanilla Ice will care). Hundreds of pics of (presumably) ill-gotten goods such as cars (complete with number plates), jewellery, expensive watches, televisions, weapons and massive, spectacular wads of cash - both Kiwi, American, and bizarrely, South African.

There were pics and videos of his apartment, his hoes (what's the technical term for those tattoos that sluts have that span their lower abdomen, just above their naughty bits? Reverse tramp-stamp?), his (once again, presumably) accomplices, their island holiday(s) and 'gangsta' poses for the camera.

There were Bluetooth contacts installed on the computer with several names, some of whom are probably also neck-deep in all this tomfoolery. Ice had even conveniently put most of my random stuff into a separate folder, which made it easy to find. He called the folder, 'SHIT', but hey, he didn't delete any of it.

He'd been using the computer as his main internet connection for the past few weeks, going by the history in Internet Explorer (he was too stupid to use Firefox, evidently). We found what he's been buying and selling on TradeMe recently (nothing of ours unfortunately), and his Facebook page, where he professes to have a degree in criminology he earned while in prison in 2005. Ha.

But this is where things get pretty weird, and kind of awesome, in a funny kind of way. In at least one candid picture (that we've found so far) is a local (semi?) celebrity (I don't know which category they fall into really) with a history of well-publicised drug problems. This person has also left a couple of messages recently on Ice's Facebook page in the past couple of weeks - they've been hanging out, and she wants to go to dinner with him.

But....... his current Facebook status: "is on his way back to the rock !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", and there are now a few messages from people calling him an idiot.

Buahahaha.

Damn I wish I knew whether it would be fine to just actually out and name names, post pics, grrr. Probably not a good idea though. Actually, it probably doesn't matter, but hey. This'll do for now.

I've heard about crims being caught because they took a photo of themselves with a camera they stole, but this is ridiculous. There's enough stuff on the hard drive to bring down a globe-trotting syndicate of wigga idiots and their celebrity admirers.

I do wish he hadn't left the computer buggy, slow and underperforming though. I installed and ran AVG Anti-Virus overnight, but when I picked it up this afternoon it did a system restore, so I'm just redoing all that again now.

So on Tuesday, this slightly disheveled, but not overly strange looking man walked into the store about 6.30pm. It had been a quiet night, being Anzac eve and all, and we were all pretty much just hanging out waiting for closing time so we could go have our work Xmas party (we didn't get one in December, but trust me, that's not the oddest thing I'm going to tell you in this entry).

I'm the only one at the counter, and he hands me this letter (on the right - click for a larger version), and begins talking. His name is Terry, and he is the victim of a conspiracy - intellectual property of his has been stolen, a film production unit is making a film about, and starring, him - without his permission, and they've injected his body with biotechnology and drugs to control his actions and movements. He has been to the media and the police, and no one is taking him seriously. The killer? The leader of this conspiracy, this 'film/crime production company', is none other than Peter Jackson.

Terry explained that when he first moved to Auckland, he had a computer, which held several songs and movies he was working on. This computer was stolen by the company, and the songs and movies were turned into the hits we now hear on the radio, and the movies doing big business at the box office. To stop him from exposing them, they have injected "biotech" devices into his body, most notably a cellphone near his ears, through which the 'torturers' give him instructions - except when he is watching a movie (presumably one he wrote before the company got to him). Everyone he meets is an actor, and in league with the crime syndicate - obviously, as why else aren't they believing him?

To date, according to his blog, the only 'important' people who've paid any attention to his claims are Peter Dunne and the NZ Truth. Others in league with the 'evil' Peter Jackson are Oliver Driver and Mikey Havoc, and more.

Wow.

Does anyone know him? Or what the hell to do?



(Pretty much all the information I blacked out in the letter is available on his website - contact details, address and the like - but that's his choice to publish, not mine.)

Britney is officially cool again. I'm not so sure about the whole 'she's obviously lost it' calls, cause the many, many times I've done the same were never cause I'd lost it. It was usually cause I'd had one too many bad hair days in succession.

In other news, Madonna is officially still uncool. She wants to be Ghandi, but 'stay alive'. Did anyone tell her Ghandi lived to be a year shy of 80? That's a pretty good innings for an Indian born in 1869, I reckon. Just how long does she want to live? Forever? I'm yet to see her wield a broadsword, so I don't fancy her chances.

And I'm not sure if this is irony, coincedence, a cosmic joke or just plain old justice, but the ex-Greenpeace employee in me just has to laugh.

And the cricket! Holy shiat! The biggest thumping Australia has ever had in one day internationals! I loved it how the commentry team, based on their performance, quoted the pitch as being "par 180", prior to NZ hitting 149 for none, off only half the overs available. Marvellous.

Closer to home, we (Kitty Hawk) shot our first music video last night. It's odd that I've only played one gig with them, and we're already shooting videos and whatnot. I'm used to the old Hamilton attitude of, 'if we're good we'll get noticed regardless,' as opposed to the Auckland attitude of, 'if we don't try now, we won't get anywhere.' It's even funnier that we're all ex-Hamiltronians, but luckily we have a weirdo-film genius for a frontman... it bugs me a little that I'm not actually on the recording in question, well not really, just that the song's evolved a little since that recording was done, and flows a little better, but ah well. One day. The video took loads of takes, as it's a one-shot deal, but backwards, and you can't always rely on fireworks and cigarettes to go off at the right times, so yeah.

Poor kitten Scully has to spend the next month living in a cage. Ponsonby vet confirmed his little venture off the balcony has fractured his back left leg, and as he's growing so fast, they can't do anything physically to him like put his leg in a cast or add a pin... so the best we can do is limit his movement by keeping him cooped up like he's in Gitmo. Does anyone know if there are like, cat videos we can put on the tele while we're out and stuff?

Lastly, I'm so hanging out for the new Smashing Pumpkins album in July. I know it's probably only Billy and Jimmy, but so was Siamese Dream. Also, Billy's had a good four years or so since Zwan to write some decent songs. God, the Lemonheads are back, Rage Against the Machine have reformed, Cornell left Audioslave, all that remains is for Scott Weiland to get back with STP, Axl to release Chinese Democracy, and Richey Manic to reappear, and it will officially be 1994 again.

Did you know... that PCs and Macintoshes have nothing to do with satellites? Or that the Middle East is owned by China, and has been for the past 400 years? Nor did I, till Daft Punk Girl told everyone on the bus I was on last night. I've mentioned her before - she was the batshiat crazy one who came in a few weekends in a row to listen to Daft Punk. For an hour at a time. Dang.

I just served one of the guys from Staind. Bought the Lostprophets album. As Mark said, that makes him even more 'gay' than he is already from being in Staind. Jebus, the post I was writing before that I lost was more interesting than this one. Dang.

I think I'm cursed to never see Deja Voodoo live. For perhaps the third of fourth time I've planned to see them, something's happened to prevent it occuring. I had an invite to the album release thingee this time too. Dang. The new album Back In Brown was supposed to turn up today, but hasn't, so it mightn't be out on Monday as quickly as some might hope... advance word is that it's better played and better produced than Brown Sabbath, which oddly enough isn't inspiring. Deja Voodoo are meant to suck, not kick ass. Dang.

So I'm still trying to decide what to do with myself, career-wise. There's a job opening at head office I think would be good (ie pay better than here). The powers that be want applicants (from the stores) to submit reviews they've written for the store as part of the application process, which is a good omen. I say so, cause since we lost our professional review writer guy, any old random staff members have been able to submit reviews for other stores to display, and on the whole, they've been pretty shocking. Proverbial sixth-form poetry puts a lot of it to shame, really. I'd offer to proofread reviews before they're sent out to the chain, but there's a 95% chance someone will get offended and complain (seriously). The guy whose decision it will probably be was in here earlier, and was keen for me to submit a letter of interest... I asked him if he wanted it in email or letter form, he hesitated, then replied, 'you can submit it ANY form you wish.' I suggested perhaps in a pie, and he enthusiastically encouraged this idea. Being a pretty big guy, I think he now expects me to bake him a pie; and I'm afraid if I don't, I won't be considered for the job. Dang.

Otherwise, I want to do the Nat. Diploma of journalism sometime soon. I was thinking of starting in the second semester next year in Htown, but they've moved it to the start of the year, which only leaves six months or so - I was hoping to get a proper paying job and pay off some things, etc etc before committing myself to ten months or so of noodles, but we'll see. Dunno if we'll even move back to the 'Tron in that timeframe anyway. Dang.

TOP FIVE ALBUMS OF THE WEEK! 

1. Muse - Black Holes And Revelations
2. Lily Allen - Alright, Still
3. Grandaddy - Just Like the Fambly Cat
4. The Decemberists - Picaresque
5. Thom Yorke - The Eraser

I met Mike Shinoda today. He was sitting at one of the pubs across from the store, and Mark offered me goodies (incl a New Order DVD) if I went over and got him to sign a copy of the Fort Minor album, for his girlfriend's brother. I was reluctant at first, cause I'd feel like a dick if it wasn't him, you know? But anyway, a New Order DVD was at stake, so I wandered over, ignored some giant shaved-headed guy I assume was his bodyguard, and just asked Mike directly, who seemed fine. Of course, Mike thinks he met a fan called Leon, that being the name I had to get him to write the dedication to. 

NEW ORDER DVD! See, now aren't you jealous Alison? I got a New Order DVD and you didn't. 

I also read the Rally of NZ is now in Hamilton, which I suppose is more motivation to move back there one day for Tariqa than I could ever instil in her.

I've started writing down notes and bits and pieces for a simulation game based on the life of a songwriter/rock star. It could potentially be awesome, the only downside being I don't know how to code games into modern computers. I could try writing it in C64 basic, then using some probably non-existent converter to change it into modern PC code... and somehow learn how to do pictures so it looks nicer...

Got an email from Rob who suggested we do a recording He's Dead, one of the very first songs we ever wrote, way back in 1995 or 1996 or something. It was certainly the very first song we ever recorded, onto an old four track tape machine the school had. Somewhere I bet I've still even got the music video for it... I wonder what his motivation for recording it now is. It's not as if between us we've written 200 better songs in the meantime... or maybe it is...

Census was last night. I hope you all entered 'Jedi' for religion. Tariqa told me at first, 'you can't put Jedi as your religion, cause it's all just made up,' then realised that's exactly what a religion is. Mark put 'Sith,' and for occupation, put 'ninja.' I should have put 'pirate' just to be opposites. Dang.

So this dude comes up and asks what Offspring CDs we have, cause he's 'here with the lead singer.' I look to my left, and sure enough, there's Dexter Holland, browsing our selection of posters. Turns out they'd been to the Warehouse already and they were selling, 'knock-offs,' to use Dexter's own words. He needed some of his band's greatest hits CDs to give to someone or something, so I sold him five copies, which his mate (a Sony exec or something) paid for. He then talked about the interweb, and these great new legal P2P services, I managed to get in a word about how I let people download my stuff for free cause there's no point in charging for something if you're not expecting to make money from it anyway, he agrees and says, 'hey, I only get 50c for every one of these we sell,' referring to the Offspring CDs he's got his record company to buy him. He even jokes that I probably don't even like his music, but everyone's into their own thing... I barely even got in a word otherwise, he likes to talk.

So yeah. I sold Offspring CDs to the guy who made them. How's about that.