Crusher Collins wants to put our crims in shipping containers.

Too costly, I say!

Here are some alternatives.

• If we have to go with containers, let’s at least pack them properly. Everyone knows that if you don’t pack a container right stuff will fall and break. So let’s pack them in real tight. And maybe there’ll be a Guinness World Record in it if we do it properly.
• Crims will make great cleaning products. Melt them down to make soap, and so bring new meaning to the term “coming clean”.
• Hungry lions, a stadium, and TV rights. Do you see where I’m going with this?
• Send them to Australia. Isn’t that what they used to do?
• Put them in oil drums and bury them in a park in New Plymouth. Isn’t that what they used to do with toxic material?
• Stop beating the law and order drum and actually try some non-custodial approaches to sentencing.

Imperator Fish: Saving the taxpayer’s dollar is what I’m about.

Don’t worry: I’m here for a while yet.

So you’ve got yourself into strife for being a bit mouthy and your boss has told you not to talk to the press.

At what point do you decide it’s a good idea to talk to Investigate Magazine?

Talking of strident “family values” loonies, look what the “Vote No” campaign has on its website:

I am honestly not making this up.

(Hat-tip to the Standard for this.)

What would you rather not have been on Saturday night in Wellington?

• a rooster?
• a French rugby player out on the town?
• a female pitch invader?

All the mayhem may have been off the pitch, but at least we won the game.

But unless we improve considerably we’ll come last in the Tri-Nations.

I may have to start agreeing with Rattue soon. And that would make me sad.

******

It would be a wonderful thing if something positive could come out of the protests in Iran.

But you just know this is China 1989 all over again, and that this regime has no intention of giving up.

And why would they? Power is good if you have it. If the people like you as well, that’s just a bonus. But it’s optional. In the words of Caligula:

Oderint dum metuant.
Let them hate me, so long as they fear me.