Justice Michael Kirby Unable To Find A Seat In Law Library

‘Get out, you BAFE wankers,’ thought Justice Michael Donald Kirby AC CMG (HCA 1996 - 2009) as he wandered through the Law Library, battered MacBook in hand, completely unable to find a seat.

In town for a speech later this evening, Judge Kirby thought it best to get a start on the seminar prep due tomorrow, and elected to find a seat in the Law Library to fulfil that end.

However, much to Kirby’s horror, shock, and disgust, he found it completely impossible to secure a seat in the library. Sounds like that seminar preparation might be in doubt, Mike!

‘This is cooked,’ he informed The Obiter in a hushed interview near a crowd of giggling second-year Commerce/Science students that gathered near the Level 1 bins to gossip about who pissed themselves in an Uber on the way to the Regatta on Saturday.

‘I find it completely abhorrent that I can’t even squeeze myself into a little corner somewhere to get some quality work done. It was easier to find a seat in the High Court!’

After we pointed out to Kirby that he had a seat literally reserved for him at the High Court in his tenure at the bench, he muttered ‘the interview is over,’ before walking up to The Void in an optimistic attempt to find a seat there.

You’re going to have to get up earlier than that to find a seat, Judge! By which I mean literally 3am. It’s rough out there.

Watch the throne. More to come.

‘The Long Winter Has Come,’ Whispers Brisbane Man As Temperatures Fall Below 20°C

‘I knew the prophecies spoke of this, but I never thought I would live to see this day,’ muttered Robbie Avery (23), a Commerce student and lifelong Brisbane resident, as he grappled with the fact that the temperature in Brisbane occasionally drops below 20°C.

In the sunny Queensland capital, residents enjoy such warm weather and clear skies that every year, around November, it is immediately forgotten that sometimes the weather is not so warm, but rather, cool-to-warm.

Indeed, some describe such lightly cool weather as ‘crisp.’

But for Robbie Avery, this drop in temperature is no mere change in celsius. It is a sign of the ‘long winter to come.’

‘All my life, my father warned me that winter is coming. That I should stockpile supplies, clothes, and men, to last out the ice-storms and the threats brought by the Long Winter,’ whispered Robbie in a shockingly tense interview with The Obiter.

‘I thought it was an old wive’s tale. Crisp weather? In Brisbane? With a level of humidity that isn’t genuinely absurd? Don’t make me laugh! If only he were here to see me now. I wonder what he’d think of my methods for surviving this brutal frost.’

Robbie’s methods for surviving the Long Winter seem to focus on Patagonia sweaters, and socks with his Birkenstocks (in a decision he disgustingly describes as ‘Birkensocks’).

Similarly, it’s worth clarifying that Robbie’s father isn’t dead. When he says ‘if only he were here to see me now,’ he’s referring to the fact that his father isn’t currently attending university with him this morning, because that would be incredibly weird.

‘I wonder if all the other legends he told me were true,’ thought Robbie, as he began sprinting around the Great Court yelling ‘The Night King is coming! Prepare yourselves now,’ forcing everyone else into a mass panic as Brisbane collectively realised that temperatures as cold as 16°C in the morning may be on their way.

More to come if our fingers aren’t too cold to type.

Winston Churchill Declines Being Brought Back From The Dead For Student’s Hypothetical Dinner Party

In some sort of sick joke, ice breakers are continuing into Week Six, as 80% of students are still yet to say a word during tutorials. The flavour of this week has been asking students the timeless question of ‘If you could have dinner with anyone from history alive or dead, who would you choose?’

A collective groan could be heard from both the POLS1201 classroom and the afterlife.

Winston Churchill, who was enjoying a cigar during his daily poker game with Gandhi and Mother Theresa, as Nelson Mandela stood outside hoping he’d get invited, rolled his eyes in anticipation of some spotty 19-year-old summoning him for a lame Sunday roast with some boring dead economist.

‘You know what old chap, after guiding Britain through the Second World War, the Mau Mau Uprising and the Korean War, I’d hoped that afterlife would carry a bit more grandeur than being idolised by first year political science students who read my speeches in Year 9 SOSE,’ sighed ‘Winnie’ to his unlikely bedfellows.

‘I couldn’t agree more, I’m famous for my hunger strike and they’re inviting me to dinner? Honestly fuck off, what are we even going to talk about over a chicken kiev?’ replied an agitated Mahatma Gandhi.

Sure enough, as the collective boredom of the tutorial turned to 19-year-old Ben Jeffries, he confidently exclaimed that he would have dinner with Winston Churchill. Despite a general ignorance towards Sir Churchill’s feats and controversies, the fact that Churchill mentioned going to the beach in a famous speech really resonated with Ben, who loved spending summer at his Grandma’s Perigian beach house.

As expected, this was met with absolutely no response, save from an unenthusiastic ‘thank you, Ben,’ from the tutor who was now really regretting starting her Masters.

Next up was Josh, who after spending his childhood in Rose Bay, had been sent to King’s College by his parents for a rural experience.

‘Mine would be the boys from Bondi, ‘cause I’m a diehard Eastern suburbs boy and those boys suck piss, so it would be a good time.’

Hopefully more from Josh, like requesting John Maynard Keynes or some other endlessly fascinating intellectual.

‘Oh My God. They’re Us,’ Thinks Ryan Catterwell While Watching Law Revue Staff Sketch

‘Jesus Christ,’ thought UQ Law lecturer Ryan Catterwell, whilst watching the UQ Law Revue’s traditional staff sketch.

‘They’re Us.’

Clearly traumatised by Jordan Peele’s latest horror film, in which demonic doppelgangers pursue their likeness, Dr. Catterwell  was said to be ‘yelping and whimpering throughout the entire staff sketch,’ according to witnesses present.

‘It’s like he actually thought it was some sort of clone up there,’ Lee Aitken told The Obiter in confidence.

‘It was clearly Dugald Graham in an unbuttoned shirt, making some fairly cheap sex jokes.’

But Ryan was not to be calmed by reason or the simple fact that the actor jumping around on a desk and singing ‘Sex Bomb’ was partaking in a fairly cheap imitation.

‘It’s Us,’ he cried to a understandably irritated Schonell as the Revue Catterwell did the worm to the tune of ‘I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt,’ before removing his crisp white Oxford button-up.

‘He’s come to kill me!’

Despite his distress, Catterwell did take the time to note to The Obiter that the clone was ‘one sublimely thicc daddy.’

More to come.

Desperate Howard Smith Wharves Hoping Law Ball Brings Much Needed Exposure

April 27th is shaping up to be a decisive evening for the struggling and abandoned Howard Smith Wharves precinct, which naively opened its doors late last year as if they thought people would actually come.

The destitute wasteland has not managed to appeal to any Brisbane residents, with it being laughably easy to get a beer on a Friday. You basically just go and pour it yourself - even the staff don’t show.

The venue attempted to appeal to the socially elite with the Mr Percival’s cocktail bar. ‘Nope,’ said the influencers, speaking as one. You’d struggle to find a single Saturday afternoon Aperol Spritz-themed upload from that dastardly, decidedly empty deck.

The tumbleweed-infested Chernobyl knockoff hopes that the UQ Law Ball will at least make people aware that there is an entertainment precinct called Howard Smith Wharves.

‘Never heard of it,’ said a group of Eagle Street grads The Obiter focus tested. ‘Sounds like it wouldn’t be busy though, especially around sunset. Reckon you’d be able to get a table pretty easy.’

‘Good luck to them, not easy to have a small business in a niche location in Brisbane. What did you say their name was again?’

Let’s hope that the upcoming Law Ball can do what Freddie Mercury did for Live Aid and save the damn thing!

And hey Freddie - what’s the lyric?

POLS Tutor Who Gets Half-Hearted Laugh At Weak Pun Immediately Launches Into Stand-Up Set

Hudson Tye (31) doesn’t experience a huge amount of validation as a postgraduate academic investigating performative masculinity in A Bug’s Life, nor does he receive particular acclaim as a POLS1102 tutor. His halfhearted jokes and rambling nature make him a particularly mediocre tutor.

But today, that all changed. Because at 11.21am Friday morning, Hudson finally landed a joke. And suddenly, the carpeted floor of Michie 201 became his stage, bored students became an audience of comedy enthusiasts, and his voice became a comedy weapon of with incisive power.

Discussing the role of postcolonial analysis in Pixar films, Hudson explained that postcolonial worlds often created difficult implications outside of their colonial history. And then, in an ostensible attempt at humour, he suggested students should be careful their mail is ‘going to the Post Office - not the Postcolonial Office!’

Surprisingly, the comment was met with a light exhale of breath from most of the class, and two students even summoned a half-hearted laugh. Hudson was fucking stoked. He was even more delighted when a cap-wearing young man up the back of the room muttered ‘good one,’ despite its obvious sarcasm.

In an instant, Hudson’s mind switched to stand-up comedy mode. ‘I’ve got them in the palm of my hand,’ he thought. ‘They’re eating it up.’

Prowling the stage, strutting like a 1980s New York stand-up comic, Hudson decided to just go for it, and threw out a joke about ‘A Shark’s Tale’ and ‘Finding Nemo’ being pretty similar.

He ignored the muted reception, and somehow found a microphone. He began to aggressively tap it, asking ‘is this thing on?’ Without missing a beat, he dived into a deeply-misguided bit about how women take a while to get ready. Or in his words, ‘bitches be taking their goddamned time!’

Reports indicate he is still standing in the classroom, trialing new material to dead silence. So let’s take this as a PSA. When your tutor cracks a joke, put your head down. Save them. Save yourself.

Truly hoping there’s no more to come.

‘I Have Enough Friends,’ Thinks Bloke In Tute Who Truly Doesn’t And Should Really Branch Out

‘Fuck off, I’ve got heaps of mates and don’t need to talk to any pink-haired goob in this 9am tute,’ thought fourth-year UQ Arts student Blake McNamee (21), as his small group gathered around a desk to discuss the readings he was rapidly realising they’d actually read.

However, in a recent development, sources close to Mr McNamee indicate that he actually doesn’t have that many mates.

‘Like, if you were having pres you’d invite him, but by no means would I say we’re close,” said a high school classmate of Mr McNamee’s, Ryan Moore (22).

‘He just brings so remarkably little to the table. Like, yeah, he can reference Rick & Morty, and he’s pretty reliable to pick up some beers, but he’s a pretty nothing bloke.’

Despite Mr McNamee’s dismissive decision to watch 2005 Ashes highlights on his phone throughout the entire group discussion on the fluidity of gender roles in E.T., The Obiter can report that the student, who did not remove his Reds 2011 Premiers cap for the entirety of the tute, should have used this chance to branch out.

When a group member suggested they catch up for coffee before next week’s tute, McNamee snorted and said he ‘doesn’t drink coffee, sorry.’

Newsflash Blake - you should. Your diminishing interpersonal skills and scarcity of human interactions that don’t involve a beer bong should serve as a sign that maybe Oak, the non-conforming heteromarxist in the beanie who tried to add you on Facebook, might just be the last chance you’ve got.

They’ve given you a chance, Blake. The only question is: will you give them one?

Hopefully more to come from this tragic figure.

Council Regulation Requires All Brisbane Vehicles To Immediately Report To Coro Drive If Raining

A new regulation passed by Brisbane City Council has reformed the wet weather traffic conditions for Queensland’s capital.

In the case of even the slightest drops of rain, even darkish clouds, any resident of the Greater Brisbane area who owns a vehicle will be required to stop what they’re doing, jump in their car and make a beeline for Coronation Drive.

‘I don’t care if it’s sex or open heart surgery,’ Lord Mayor Graham Quirk said in his daily morning address to the townsfolk below from the clock tower of City Hall.

‘If there’s rain, you stop and get in the car. No ifs, buts, or maybes. You get in that car and hurry to Coronation Drive.’

The mayor continued as chickens squawked and children balanced pails of water in King George Square below.

‘If I so much as hear a rumour that anyone travelling from the western suburbs to the city is able make it to their destination in under two hours fifteen minutes, I will fuck them literally.’

Pushing on from what seems dangerously close to a threat of sexual violence from an elected official, the regulation has been meet with an accepting nod from the general populace.

‘This makes sense,’ said everyone.

Sidenote - I literally wrote this on my phone while sitting on Coro. Write about what you know, am I right. Haha. I heard Kate Tim and Marty from beginning to end. It’s like I listened to an audio book called Wednesday. Smh.

Anyways, more to come. Lmao, hope no one has to get to the airport.

'I Hate Gentrification!' Says Man Who Would've Been Stabbed Immediately In 1998 Fortitude Valley

‘Gentrification sucks!’ has been the rallying cry for many young people afraid of soulless development, and it looks like private school alumnus and Architecture student, Adam Beckett (22), has decided to throw his voice into the fray.

‘Just, like, keep West End weird, y’know?’ he said, to no-one in particular, his smooth legs encased in corduroy trousers (even though it’s literally the hottest Autumn we’ve ever had). Adam’s definition of ‘weird’ likely extends to milk crates and cafes which offer three different varieties of oat milk, but we’ll let that one through.

Fortunately for Adam, but unfortunately for the rest of us, he can be safe making these comments in 2019 Brisbane, because it’s pretty fair to say he would’ve been stabbed to death within minutes upon entering 1998’s pre-gentrification Fortitude Valley.

Before the spectre of the Howard Smith Wharves took over the river, and the TC Beirne precinct brought some fresh respectability to the Brunswick St Mall, the Valley was actually dangerous at one point, with some genuinely unsavoury characters. Now, the most dangerous thing in the Valley is eating a bit too much cashew chicken at King Of Kings, or even worse, being told that the Asian BYO you’re going to doesn’t allow beers!

Adam’s rolled-up T-shirt sleeves and Converse sneakers ensure he cuts a striking figure as he tells The Obiter that ‘megacorporations will be the end of us. We’re just losing the heart and soul of this city,’ conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d be losing his liver and spleen as they bled out into the gutter outside the Jubilee Hotel in 1998.

It’s objectively good for Adam’s safety that he can go to Southbank and not be accosted by gangland members and street prostitution, and it’s a relief for his parents that he can travel to New Farm without falling ass-backwards into the violent, drug-fuelled, low-rent culture which persisted throughout the late 1980s.

But that won’t stop him giving the middle finger to builders as they construct a new set of cookie-cutter units on Boundary St, as if they had anything to do with the decision.

Stay brave, my brother!

No more to Krum.

Suit-Wearing Mooter’s Brief Spell Of Self-Esteem Crushed By Realisation They’re A Nerd

Third-year law student Bryan Murray (20) suffered a serious disappointment midway through the first round of the King & Wood Mallesons Senior Moot today, as he realised that mooting is for fucking nerds.

Buoyed by the opportunity to wear a suit for just the third time since his Year 12 Formal, Bryan waltzed into the Moot Court with the kind of arrogance only a private school boy of imminent yuppie status can maintain.

However, when the MJ Bale-clad Senior Counsel stood to deliver his introductions, he noticed his learned friend opposite was a massive dweeb from his Property seminar. And that’s when it dawned on Bryan.

He, too, was that massive a dweeb.

‘Like I literally have just taken on an extra assignment for no fucking reason. I don’t even get any extra credit or some shit,’ said an irate Bryan in a hot, sweaty interview with The Obiter.

‘Only a complete dorkatron would even entertain that idea.’

Despite this harsh state of affairs, Bryan says he will still do his utmost to defend the appellant, Ms Joanna Allan, from the frankly spurious claims of defamation brought by opposing counsel.

And looking to the future, despite the setback of realising he’s an absolutely unequivocal fucking loser, Bryan is looking forward to picking up a new tie from Charles Tyrwhitt and participating in the Duke & D’Arcy McMullen Constitutional Law Moot.

And maybe even some new spectacles from Bailey Nelson!

What a freakin’ four-eyed lame-o.