Monday, 19 September 2011


"SAVE OUR GANJA - SAVE OUR GANJA - SAVE OUR GANJA!" Councillor Dougie Dunnysmore roused himself with a shudder of horror as he realised what he had been writing unconsciously on the note paper in front of him.

Covertly he glanced sideways at the two Councillors sitting beside him. Mervyn Mingin, the big murri Councillor for Division 5 sat at his right while Jim Howard, Councillor for Division 8 and one of Cush's Cairns Conservative Party team members, sat on his left. With an audible sigh of relief, he quickly turned the page over. Both Councillors were too engrossed in listening to His Worship the Mayor, Colonel Ken Cush, who was Chairing the Planning and Environment Committee meeting to notice what he had been feverishly scribbling down.

The noise inside the Council Chambers was almost deafening. Dunnysmore could hear the reverberations of thousands of Cairns people chanting outside, "SAVE OUR MOUNTAIN, SAVE OUR MOUNTAIN!" It was the biggest demonstration of Cairns locals in decades and one of the security guards had already informed the Councillors that Police estimated the crowd at 10,000 and still growing.

It was the meeting where the Cairns Regional Council would vote on the sale of a huge tract of land on Mt Whitfield to a Chinese development company.

The public gallery was full and security guards had been busy all morning in escorting some of the more rowdier people out.

Dunnysmore could feel his heart racing and his face sweating. He could feel a panic attack coming on. Never did he ever imagine the role of a Councillor could be so bloody awful! Taking out a grubby handkerchief he wiped his face yet again and polished his glasses. He had given Colonel Cush his word yesterday that he would support the sale of the land to the Chinese. That was yesterday! Yeah, for fucks sake, that was fucken yesterday. Yesterday it had all seemed so clear cut. A big development, money and jobs for the locals. Yeah. Then, who should arrive last night at his unit in Mt Sheridan but his fucken brother Teddy and his mate Pedro.
"You can't sell bloody Mt Whitfield to the Chinese!" roared Pedro, all aggro like and looking like he was going to punch someone's lights out.
"Why not?" returned Dougie, "It would be good for the unemployed."
Pedro looked mutinous. "Where the fuck do you think I grow my ganja hey?"

Speechless, Dougie stared at Pedro who threw up his hands and slumped into a chair.

"Aaay, I thought you were growing it up at Cape Trib. somewhere in the rainforest," Dougie said eventually. "You know amongst all the ferns and prehistoric stuff so that no-one could see it?"

Pedro shot him a look of contempt. "Lowrider won't grow in those conditions," he spat. "I tried it and all the plants died didn't they, hey? Besides you think I'm gonna hump bags and bags of epsom salts and manure for bloody miles and miles without anyone getting a bit suspicious. Christ all mighty, Cape Trib today is crawling with undercover cops for a start without the thousands of tourist and fucken grey nomads in their Winnebagos."

"Well I didn't know," Dougie replied looking anxiously at Pedro. "So where exactly are you growing it?"

"I told you, ya deaf cunt, on fucken Mt Whitfield, off the Blue Arrow," Pedro answered, "Got quite a few plants, been growing 'em there for some time now. Afghani dwarf ganja, a new type which grows in poor soil. Got the seeds off some solider boys who brought them back with them from Afghanistan, didn't I? You like the shit don't ya?"

Dougie had felt as if his guts were falling away. Shakily he sat down and stared at Teddy and Pedro. "Jeeeeezus blardy Christ!" he stammered.

"The soldier boys reckoned it wasn't like the other lowrider shit," explained Pedro, "you don't hack so much as you do with the other Afghani stuff. Beauty of it is it likes very poor soil which Mt Whitfield has. All I got to do is to take up some chicken manure from time to time and it fucken grows like Jack's bloody beanstalk. I got plants all over the place. No bastard would know what they were either, because they don't look like the usual indica."

Pedro had leaned back in his chair, fixing Dougie with a hard stare. "So whatcha gonna do now COUNCILLOR? Give away all our ganja to thousands of fucken Chinese executives?"

Dougie Dunnysmore had hardly slept a wink that night, tossing and turning and in the morning had a bad case of the squirts.


Dunnysmore came back to the present, still seeing Pedro's contemptuous, angry face in front of him.

The moment had arrived. Councillors Bob Horseman and Jim Howard then proposed that the sale of land on Mt Whitfield be sold to the Shanghai Hangyang Corporation and tabled plans for the development of a huge hotel complex.

The crowd in the public gallery all started shouting at various Councillors. Finally, they qietened, as variious Councillors started speaking to or against the proposal. The speeches all fled by Dunnysmore who was only conscious of his heart beating erratically, and the sweat oozing from his face, underarms and hands. Councillor Skye Lovelady spoke passionately against the sale citing the environmental appeal of the mountain, its role in bushwalking and its tourist appeal. Councillor Mingin spoke about its significance to the indigenous inhabitants of Cairns and also its environmental appeal. Councillors Piper and Bomboniere echoed Lovelady and Mingin and indicated they were also against the sale.

Cush's Councillors, Horseman, Browne and Howard all spoke of the economic benefits such a huge development would provide to the people of Cairns. Councillor Browne from Division 4, turned and spoke to the audience in the public gallery.

"You people voted at the last Council election for development. That is what you wanted, development and jobs. You voted the last Council out, decisively because you said they "did nothing" for Cairns. You voted our Cush Conservative Party in because you wanted to return to a city constantly building, a city with cranes and jack hammering going all day, every day. A city which provided continuous work for thousands of labourers, truckies and tradies. That is what you wanted........."

Some in the audience tried interjecting Councillor Browne, who only raised his voice and deepened his accusing tone.

"So it is what we have done. We have honoured our commitment to the people of Cairns and kickstarted development. This development will continue with our pledge, and will provide thousands of jobs either directly or indirectly. You people are anti-development greenies, and you disgust me........"

The crowd in the public gallery all jeered and hissed at this and the security guards again escorted several people out.

The last of Cush's Conservative Party Councillors, Councillor Brad Buttonworth, representing Division 10, leaned forward to his microphone to speak. The shouting in the public gallery died down.

"I will be voting against this sale and this application for development," Buttonworth said in a quiet voice.

The entire Chamber suddenly went deathly quiet. Sitting at the top end of the huge round Council table, Colonel Cush jerked his head up and stared at Buttonworth with his mouth open.

"I have some grave concerns over selling a popular recreation area, enjoyed by both locals and the indigenous population of Cairns," said Councillor Buttonworth. "The previous Council bought this land for the people of Cairns and district to keep and to enjoy. I believe we should maintain that purpose. That is all I have to say on the matter, but I will vote against this, even though my own political party, and my Council team, the Cush Conservative Party are all for it. I go against my own party on this."

Dougie Dunnsmore felt the blood rush to his ears and his throat constrict. Christ, if he could only have a cone, just a small one! It was his turn to speak. He felt his bowels loosen. Oh shit, shit, shit. Cush was looking at him with unconcealed menace.

"Councillor Dunnysmore!" thundered Cush, "Do you have anything to say?"

Dunnysmore leaned forward to his microphone and opened his mouth. All he could manage was a series of high pitched squeaks so that he sounded just like Barry Gibb singing some high notes.
Shakily, he reached for some water, and gulped a few mouthfuls down. Taking a deep breath, and squeezing his hands tight be began his speech, which he had rehearsed in the early hours of the morning.

"This is a compelling case, development versus the environment and jobs versus recreation and I have given it much lengthy consideration. Cairns is surrounded by mountains and they certainly add to the charm and beauty of this city. I am sure that everyone here present knows or understands that at some time, we will have to commence development in the hills. They will not remain in their pristine state forever. Indeed we already have development occurring at the lower levels.....". Dunnysmore reached across to his water glass and took another sip. He was surprised at how steady his voice, though high pitched and feminine, sounded.

"However, I have some concerns about this development and that is the very nature of the application itself. A complex for the training and recreation of Chinese executives, presumeably representing Chinese corporations. We have many English teaching facilities here in Cairns and many recreational facilities which would suit such a development. I cannot pretend to know much about Chinese corporate culture, but I should imagine it would be very competitive like our own corporate culture. I also believe there would be cultural differences, many aspects of which we know very little. It is those aspects which worry me somewhat. As a Councillor therefore, I feel unprepared, totally uninformed to vote on something of this nature. I believe before our Council should vote on this that we need more awareness, more information on Chinese Corporate Culture and what it entails. Therefore I shall be voting against this proposal to sell the Council land."

Cheers rang around the public gallery! Dunnysmore sat back shakily and wiped the perspiration pouring from his forehead.

"You little bewdy Dunnysmore!" came a roar from the public gallery.

"Three cheers for Dunnysmore," came another shout, and with one accord, the public gallery all cheered Dunnysmore.

The motion to sell the Council owned parcel of land on Mt Whitfield to the Shanghai Hangyang Corporation was defeated 6 votes to 4.

Outside the Chamber, someone had passed the news to the crowds waiting outside. The impact of thousands of cheering people could be heard clearly inside.

To be continued..................


  1. Neil at his desk at work19 September 2011 at 17:45

    Dunnysmore for Mayor!!

  2. By Christ, so thats what that shifty looking cove with the gunnysack is doing? See him sneaking up the track near Strattie from time to time. He reckons he's a health and fitness freak but he's really taking some chook shit up to his ganja hey. ROFL - good one Terry mate.

  3. You two are quick off the mark again. Sheeeesh.

  4. Well fuck me dead, I would of voted for Dunnysmore, too bloody right.

  5. Reckon councilor Dunnysmore deserves some cones after all that hey?

  6. ROFL, I laughed at this one.

  7. No shit hey, save our ganja. No contest. I would be out there yelling and screaming too.

  8. This was really funny Terry all Dunnysmore could think of was his weed. ROFL

  9. This was worth the wait Vance. I had a good chuckle over this - Dunnysmore and his panic attacks and squirts. Sounds like he's been a conehead for some time.

  10. Brandi;s knickers at home20 September 2011 at 03:33

    This Councillor Browne sounds like a brow beating bombastic prick of an arsehole sitting there lecturing the public. Reminds me of some other bombastic bastards we once had in local government.

  11. Brandi's secret toy boy20 September 2011 at 04:26

    Jeez I laughed at this hey. At the end of the day it all got down to saving a bit of ganja. I reckon the old Colonel is gunna go off his brain.

  12. Dunnysmore's panic attacks and preoccupation with bowel movements would indicate a drug addiction, however his speech was quite rational, even intelligent. He hints that he is in fact doubtful as to the true nature of this "Executive Training and Retreat" facility, and wishes to know more. You seem to have created an interesting, albeit bizarre character here Terry. Dunnysmore has his problems and his baggage, first of which is his obvious obsessive compulsive disorder, mixed with hypochondria, added with a little precious narcissism, sado-masochistic tendencies, and of course the drug addiction. He is blatantly obviously flawed, which could easily destroy him publicly or conversely endear him to the community. I'm looking forward to seeing what you do with him, Terry!!

  13. Oh sheeeeeesh Liz, I don't analyse my characters! Dunnysmore was born in my head and just sort of developed on the keyboard.

  14. Dunnysmore "endeared" to the community? Wot? you got to be joking hey. but in a city full of rednecks bogans and headbangers, yeah I can see what you meen. He wouldnt have any problem in getting a bit.

  15. Caroline - at home, thank you.21 September 2011 at 15:26

    Terry I dont know if this was deliberate or not, but you posted this episode on the controversial sale of land on Mt Whitfield on the same week, in fact almost the same day that the Cairns Regional Council voted on the equally controversial Entertainment Precinct.

  16. Sheer co-incidence Caroline I assure you. I'm not trying to make any "statement" here or whatever over the Entertainment Precinct.

  17. A new type of afghani dwarf ganja huh? Grows in poor soil ya reckon? Doesnt make you hack so much hey? Hmmmmm.

  18. yeah Anonymous above and it grows liked Jack's fucken beanstalk too. Sounds allright hey?

  19. So what happens next Vance? Reckon Cush is going to take a defeat and losing his two mill. without a fight?

  20. I reckon Buttonworth is a dead man walking. Hurry up with the next episode Terry. Can't wait to see what Cush and Horsey do next. they won't take the defeat lying down.

  21. DUNNYSMORE FOR MAYOR OF CAIRNS25 September 2011 at 20:17

    Yeah well now youve got your 1000 views per week hows about you get your finger out and write the next episode before we all just up and piss off.

  22. Patience, patience. It's coming.