Another shining example of Former Yugoslav tolerance.

Life appeared to be grand for your's truly towards the end of August. I was making my way south into Perth, envigorated after two and a half months of bush driving. Nothing makes you feel more liberated, in-tune and balanced within yourself than driving on outback roads at 190 km/h, drinking a bottle of Bourbon, and firing a .45 out the window of the car. Indeed, I was recharged, and ready to selflessly offer my services to the world of IT once more.

Things seemed to tick along nicely when I hit Perth. I got a place to stay within days with a load of cool folks, recruitment agencies were treating me like a human being, and every local reckoned the weather would improve any day now. I should have known.

Osama struck, and that was the end of the IT recruitment market in Perth. I stuck it out for another month or so, but there was no joy to be found. Now, I know that Osama is bad lad, and he's done a lot worse than fuck me over, nonetheless, I take his actions to be a personal affront.

Incidentally, I came up with a grand method for Osama to hid his identity. While trying to avoid paying an outstanding taxidermist bill, I was visited by hired goons threatening menaces if I didn't "produce the stuffing". However, the situation was quickly diffused when I told that that my name was really Arse Badger, and not Arse McBadger, as it said on their thug-docket. I went on to explain that I'm often mistaken for Mr. McBadger, and that I think he lives in Collingwood. The goons, apologised profusely for their error, and went about their way. I reckon if Osama gets caught by American Shock Troopers, that he should claim to be Osama Bun Laden, Osama Fun Laden, Patrick Shaughnessy, or something like that .