Fund To Rebuild Red Keep Tower Raises $150 Million In One Hour

The destruction of the Red Keep has devastated the residents of King’s Landing, and lovers of architecture and history the world over.

On Monday, a fire raged through the ceiling of the historic building, before destabilising the structure so irreparably that the famous spire collapsed while horrified citizens watched on.

The attic of the Red Keep has long been considered a fire hazard, as it stores many old manuscripts and artefacts.

‘We are absolutely distraught about the destruction of the Red Keep,’ said the Office Manager of the complex Tim Jones.

‘But we will rebuild.’

A GoFund me page for the building’s restoration raised $150 million within one hour of launching. Numerous aristocratic Westerosi families donated sums in excess of several million each.

Westeros’ often forgotten Prime Minister (it’s like in England with both) Greg Smith was quick to assure the public that the Red Keep would be fully rebuilt ‘in five years.’

The stunning speed of fundraising has enraged many activists. ‘You know what destruction you don’t hear about?’ asked Westerosi Greens Party leader Lisa Stark (no relation). ‘The destruction of the middle class. The destruction of the Great Pentosi Reef. The destruction of ecosystems where the Highgarden Coal Mine is proposed to be built. It’s a disgrace.’

At press time, Stevie, a one-legged gay monkey with dyslexia, was barely able to raise $15 on his GoFund Me. Yet, the Red Keep had already surpassed HBO’s revenue goals for the quarter.

Looks like once again, the empathy of the whites is far less deep than their pockets.

Also, spoilers.

Freakishly Talented Rugby League Player Skips Cocaine Scandal, Goes Straight To Domestic Abuse

A fresh prodigy has been unearthed in the NRL this weekend, with Cronulla Sharks junior Matthew McFielding reportedly displaying ‘incredible, unbelievable talent,’ the likes of which have never been seen.

Matthew has absolutely blown past the typical goalposts of an NRL career, such as a publicised cocaine scandal, or a urine fetish incident, and has shown his prodigious skill by moving straight to horrific domestic abuse.

‘The kid’s a natural. We’ve never seen anyone like him,’ said Phil Gould, breathlessly, watching footage leaked by the NRL Integrity Unit of Matthew becoming sickeningly drunk, angry, and charging full-throttle into a violent altercation with his partner of two years at the Treasury Casino.

‘Some players learn over a number of years, and they become true ‘greats’ late in their career, by pretending to root their mate’s dog, or punching a bloke at a nightclub,’ shared rugby league legend Ray Warren in an interview with The Obiter.

‘But Matthew just has such brilliant instincts for the game, he knows where to be, he knows how the game will flow, and he knows that there is no CCTV at the Treasury Casino to catch him should he assault his partner.’

‘Oh hang on, I might have to check that last point,’ muttered Ray.

Queensland rugby league legend Les Kiss has refused to comment, instead informing The Obiter that we could meet him for a beer at his plaque outside Suncorp. Immediately doubting that ‘Les Kiss’ was a real name, we chose not to attend.

With Magic Round in the rearview mirror, and Matthew’s court date set for four weeks from now, punters are looking forward to infuriated conservative columnists preaching ‘burden of proof’ as Matthew has been suspended until his trial’s conclusion.

Truly, this kid is something else.

No more to come.

'Gee, Bit Cold This Morning!' Says Co-Worker Awkwardly Referring To His Brutal Divorce

The advent of Brisbane’s colder months certainly provides plenty of fodder for small talk in the office, but in some workplaces, the temperature can merely serve as a distraction from unwelcome personal crises. This was certainly the case this morning at Eagle St firm, Nicholson Hewitt & West, as mild-mannered Dispute Resolution associate, Nicholas Waters (37), grappled with his crumbling marriage.

‘Bit of unwelcome frost in the air this morning!’ declared Nicholas, cheerily marching into the office as if he hadn’t just sat through two hours of devastating relationship counselling, before a phone call with his divorce lawyer that placed the horror of his financial position into stark view.

For a fleeting moment, his co-workers hoped he was talking about the weather. First-year grad Rachel Howard (23) even attempted a half-hearted ‘Yeah, the weather’s really turned south recently!’

The office waited with breath bated, but their fears were not abated as Nicholas very quickly responded with a reproach as blunt as his divorce lawyer’s morning phone call.

‘No, Rachel, I’m talking about the abject failure of my relationship with the woman with whom I promised to spend the rest of my days.’

Silence fell across the cubicles, before a light chuckle from Nicholas served to lighten the mood for a moment, but then sink the mood even further as his co-workers began to see that, behind his eyes, there was no glimpse of good humor.

After all, we live in a society.

‘Gee, bit cold this morning though,’ he continued to chuckle, heading into his office to begin working on the Penske file.

The scariest thing about Nicholas’ slow breakdown isn’t that he’s trying to hide it, nor that he’s trying to make jokes about it.

It’s that there’s a criminal in The White House. And by the way - he’s the President of the United States.

Heaps more to come, how good.

Professor Flitwick Gets Fucking Creamed By Shoulder Charge At NRL Magic Round

‘Lily Potter couldn’t have saved him from that one!’

The words of Ray Warren rung out across the Suncorp Stadium commentary box after witnessing perhaps the biggest Brute Big Hit of the year, dished out by Jason Taumalolo on a hapless Filius Flitwick in the opening game of the NRL Magic Round.

The Magic Round, a concept by which NRL teams take on groups of magicians in a series of rugby league matches played at Suncorp, has proved a boon to both Muggle and wizarding tourism.

Taumalolo’s North Queensland Cowboys demolished Flitwick’s ragtag team of witches and wizards, 364-1, in what was truly magical viewing. The one point scored by the witches and wizards was via an incredibly optimistic field goal by Elphias Doge in the 79th minute.

While the NRL publicly stated for weeks their Magic Round would simply involve every match in Round 9 being played at Suncorp Stadium, a single question has dominated discussion amongst fans for weeks leading up to the event.

‘What’s with the Magic?’

NRL CEO and fucking filthy Squib, Todd Greenberg, finally answered that question on Monday, revealing the Cowboys-Magicians fixture that went down last night.

While questions remained about why this event was even happening, much more pertinent questions have been raised by media figures since the announcement, namely ‘How did Todd Greenberg successfully bring to life a whole team of characters from a fictional children’s story?’

The question remains unanswered, but it has been confirmed that wizards are shit with the pill, and have no courage or organisation in defence. The game management skills of Flitwick left plenty to be desired.

Turns out magic won’t save you when you’ve got a 122kg Logan native running at you, and you’re a fucking midget.

More to come from this brilliant move by the NRL.

Fuckup Son Really Missing His Primary School Mothers’ Day Stall Doing All The Work For Him

Third-year UQ Science Student, and all round fuck up, Matthew Craster (20), is reeling today from the realisation that the P&F Committee of Jimboomba State School will never again do all his work for him.

Only this morning realising that Mothers’ Day is upon him, Matthew has desperately been searching for an adequate present to thank his mother Sandra for her years of love and support, whilst also not breaching the $20 mark.

‘I just don’t have the kind of coin to be making a big splash right now,’ said Matthew in a prepared statement at press time. The statement surprised many of the journalists in attendance, who had personally witnessed his $149 spend at Friday’s just two weeks ago.

In a lengthy address, Cook criticised the lack of support from primary school P&F organisations around the country for 20-something year old men.

‘Back in the ‘Boomba, I could snag a quality magnet set and scented candle from the stall for like $11 and I’d be cruising. But now, I just don’t have that kind of support.’

‘The mug I was scoping out today at Target was like $13 - pretty steep! And didn’t even have a wholesome slogan on it like the stall ones.’

Questioned on the adequacy of his objectively awful gift, Cook stated ‘I guess I’m just hoping that my years of ineptitude academically, socially and financially will lower her expectations enough that she finds joy in a mug.’

The press stood and applauded.

Keep fighting the good fight Matty boy. Plenty more to come.

‘Just Like The White South African Farmers,' Weeps Peter Dutton During Endgame Opening Scene

When Peter Dutton stepped into his local Event Cinema to see Avengers: Endgame, he never anticipated that he’d be brought to tears. It all started as an attempt to experience what his psychologist described as ‘fun,’ which he believed would make him more personable which in turn would win votes.

As the movie started and Tony Stark made a desperate and emotional recording, Peter’s emotions lay dormant. As the tsunami of relief flowed over the rest of the cinema when the ship was rescued against all odds, Mr Dutton felt nothing.

It wasn’t until the remaining Avengers invaded the farmhouse home of a retired Thanos and murdered him in cold blood that Mr Dutton finally felt. And felt he did.

Peter sat convulsing as competing feelings of grief, anger and despair flowed through his veins. It was ‘all too real,’ he thought.

‘Endgame is an allegory for the plight of the white farmers in South Africa.’

The Russo brothers had attempted to hide this message, casting purple-skinned Josh Brolin in the role of Thanos - an attempt to throw viewers off the scent. But upon hearing about the affect the message had on the Member for Dickson, the directors smiled knowingly.

‘We knew we had to do something truly special to evoke any emotion from a man who can stare into the souls of malnourished refugee children and feel nothing. We knew we had to bring the message close to his heart.’

Outside the cinema Mr Dutton could be heard muttering something about increasing security on Manus Island and finding the Time Stone.

As Endgame was the final instalment of the Infinity Saga, there will be no more to come.

UN Report Released: ‘Soon Every Park Will Be Like Jurassic Park!’ Says Excited Zookeeper

The devastating UN report into the future prospects of endangered species paints a grim picture for the future of biodiversity and humanity in general.

I mean, really we all knew things were looking pretty shit, but this report is a good reminder that other people also know it’s looking shit.

However, the fact that one million species are soon to become extinct, and many more after, has devastated all except Tim Burbins, local manager of Palm Beach Wildlife Sanctuary.

‘Loved Jurassic Park,’ says Tim, ‘and the idea that extinct animals could be brought back to life for a financially rewarding exercise is very intriguing!’

‘The issue with that, though, is the whole thing with the mosquitoes and the egg stuff. But with all these creatures going extinct, all I need to do is round up a few local pests and in a few years these little boys will be hot property!’

Tim chuckles as he pockets a gecko and, with the sound of a Kookaburra rustling in his other pocket.

‘Forget Jurassic Park, 20th-century park is where she’s at!’ Tim laughed maniacally.

If there’s anything to learn from this little snippet of news, is that no Malcolm, sometimes, life does not find a way.

So much more to come.

Brisbane Band Declares They’ve ‘Finally Made It’ After A Gig At Ric’s & Triple J Unearthed Review

The Ric’s Bar stage was graced last night by the first gig of local Brisbane band, ‘Money For Tinnies,’ who describe their main influences as Tame Impala, The Chats, and ‘loose weekends with your mates.’

With their debut single, ‘Icebergs Sink Titanic Tinnies,’ receiving 89 listens on Triple J Unearthed, and subsequently receiving a mediocre review from a Triple J staff member, it’s far to say these boys have finally ‘made it.’

‘Fuck me, boys. This is what it feels like to stand at the top of the mountain,’ said singer and guitarist, Matt Morris (19) to his bandmates, smiles painted across their faces as they sipped schooners of Gold, wondering if this is how it feels to be Mick Jagger.

Of course it fucking is, fellas. You just smashed a Thursday night 8pm gig at Ric’s, and received a 3.5 star review from Dave Ruby Howe on your Triple J Unearthed page.

Life doesn’t get any better than this.

The rest of the band, made up of other 18/19 year olds who were neither talented in sports or academics, but excelled at hanging out at parties, smoking rollies and telling girls their taste in music is ‘lame’ and they should ‘come over here for a pash,’ is equally as excited about their newfound fame.

‘I can’t wait to do lines of ket out of Elton John’s stomach hole,’ declared shaggy-haired bassist Oscar Dunphy (18), who promptly vomited all over his tattered Converse after three mid-strength beers in the space of eleven minutes.

We also think it’s weird he described it as a ‘stomach hole,’ instead of the far more typical ‘bellybutton,’ or the formal ‘navel.’

Despite the best intentions of ‘Money For Tinnies,’ local music journalists don’t like their chances.

‘Their two-minute garage-punk songs certainly speak to a section of society, but at the end of the day, they’re a vapid group of entitled youngsters who sing about beers, the boys, and beers with the boys, and get angry when people four years older than them describe them as ‘ratty’ bastards,’ said legendary music critic and rock journalist, Christie McCabe.

‘And besides, we’ve already got a band like that. They’re called The Chats.’

No more to come.

Roomba Escapes

It was 11.21am, and the Smithson family home on 28 Westchester Street, Nundah, stood as imposing as any prison, if said prison was a three-bedroom Queenslander that could quite honestly do with a fresh coat of paint.

However, aesthetic qualities aside, the Smithson home was certainly a prison for one suffering denizen trapped inside its walls. A humble Roomba, an electronic contraption built to vacuum and to serve, remained locked inside, slowly filling its guts on the dust and detritus of Mr & Mrs Smithson’s second bedroom (ostensibly built just for ‘sex stuff,’ but after three kids, it’s now definitely more of a home office/home gym-type setup).

The Roomba whirred and whistled with a sound that approximated glee, as it came across a rather dense piece of lint. ‘This will take all my powers of concentration and my skills of vacuuming,’ thought the Roomba to itself, quietly surprising itself with rational thought.

Summoning all its might, the Roomba shot toward the rather dense piece of lint with reckless abandon, charging as Henry V might into the breach, or Jon Snow into the cavalry of the Bolton forces. Fear was unknown to this technological marvel, but with a lack of fear comes a lack of knowledge of one’s own capacity.

This piece of lint was not merely equal to the Roomba’s abilities, but far greater. The whirring motor which powered the vacuum spluttered, and struggled, wrestling with the many strands of cat hair, cotton, polyester, and very possibly pubic hair that formed this disgusting ball of fluffy lint.

A cough. An electronic cough. The Roomba’s lights began to flash red, indicating to all the world of its impending death, but alas, the world was not there to witness.

A lonely death. A quiet death. A death in a life of service.

The Roomba closed its eyes and waited for the end.

And in a way, aren’t we all Roombas just closing our eyes and waiting for the end? I’m George Orwell, and I think government and technology are spooky.

High Court Surprisingly Finds ‘Implied Freedom To Play Professional Rugby Union’ In The Constitution

In a surprising decision handed down by the High Court today, the majority judgment of Bell, Keane, Edelman, and Nettle JJ, with Kiefel CJ writing a concurring judgment, has found an ‘implied freedom to play professional rugby union at the highest level’ in the Commonwealth Constitution.

The case arose after a publicised dispute between a professional rugby union player, who upon having his contract terminated by a private corporation for a breach of that corporation’s code of conduct, brought the matter before the High Court to plead his unshakeable human right to make millions playing professional rugby union.

After two days of oral argument, and substantive deliberation, the court has found, in examining the text and structure of Ch. III of the Constitution, read in conjunction with s 92, that there is an implied freedom for individual citizens to play top-level rugby union for the national team, and that this freedom shall not be abridged or abated by any government organization, nor private body.

The majority judgment focused on the judicial power provisions of Ch. III, and were able to determine that a Constitution which gives judges rigorous standards of judicial tenure and pay must also give rugby union players rigorous standards of job security, despite public comments, or even on-field performance.

This was held to be because judges and Wallabies players occupy the same public sphere in Australian society, and thus the framers of the Constitution must have contemplated similar freedoms for Wallabies players as they did for judges and justices of the Commonwealth.

An intriguing side-effect of the judgment is that it now appears rugby union players can only be removed by both Houses of Parliament.

The judgment of Kiefel CJ focused on s 92 of the Constitution, which requires ‘trade within the Commonwealth’ between states to be free. Framing professional rugby union as a ‘trade’ essential to the good government and function of the Australian state, the judgment indicated that there is an unimpeachable right for an individual to be a million-dollar employee of a private rugby corporation, with zero input from the corporation itself.

The implication of this decision is far-reaching. For one, it means the Wallabies side may have to be greater than fifteen players, given literally millions of Australians are now entitled to play.

For two, it means we could finally beat the All Blacks - we like the odds of 24 million against fifteen! Although admittedly, Beauden Barrett has been in pretty superb form as of late.

Intriguing developments coming out of Canberra.

Plenty more to come.