Downton Abbey star Brendan Coyle recently pleaded guilty to the charge of operating a motor vehicle with almost three times the legal breath-alcohol.

The incident took place on New Year’s Day after Coyle had spent practically the entire month of December last year at a rehab clinic in Thailand, seeking help for his alcoholism.

On disembarking from the plane from Thailand Coyle has fallen into the drivers’ seat of his BMW and proceeded to drive home, presumably a cured man.

He was pulled over by police a short time later and found to be very drunk.

Brendan Coyle, 52, is the head butler in the award-winning television drama Downton Abbey but in reality, it seems he’s just another famous person with too much money and not enough genuine hardship to keep him occupied.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by O T I Runny

Photography by Col Starr Ray-Brew

In the spirit of adventure I recently ventured onto one of those Asian Dating sites that are so prolific in floating their advertisements around the web; I even invested the lowest denomination of allowable currency just to see what would happen…

What happened indeed: for a site that seems continually to be altering its identity between AsianDating, AsiaDating; AsianDate, AsiaDate; DateAsia and AsianBeauties – clever title nuances that lead a potential customer to, well, over the years seriously question his sanity – DateAsia as I most recently knew it, did look mightily appealing.

…They take your money, that much is given; they then charge ‘credits’ to message the ladies, and further credits to read the ladies’ replies…

It ought to be noted that prior to embarking on my DateAsia quest I did in fact consult several websites under the heading ‘legitimacy of dateasia’, with perplexing results.

…You’d better believe I was sceptical – right from the start I was looking for a way to unequivocally condemn this ‘dating site’ and, in the beginning, given the corny and repetitious nature of ladies’ responses it appeared to be a certain ruse – then I took into account the fact that messages going both ways will have had to be translated thereby losing much of their personal essence, also that message templates were in play for less imaginative men/women, thus afforded the site some leeway…

The first ‘legitimacy of dateasia’ result was in hindsight, presumably, written by the American founder of the site himself and delivered an ‘impartial’ insight into DateAsia: maintaining, ‘ladies appeared real enough’ – using a pathetic before and after makeup example to show how efficiently women can do themselves up, in an attempt to explain away the unlikely event that 100% of these women are simply stunning in appearance – then even giving reasons for the site’s regular name changes – something about ‘keeping it fresh’ – claiming that he could see ‘no reason why anyone should assume DateAsia wasn’t legitimate’.

…Unfortunately there was inadequate leeway in the world to compensate for DateAsia’s wondrous assortment of supposedly single and self-professed ‘desperate for love’, yet exquisitely presented and mindblowingly gorgeous paragons of perfection.

…The second result was much less credulous and effectively negated every claim made by the first guy then suddenly, the whole racket started to make a lot more sense…

Where the first guy maintained that if it was a scam then these ‘poor unfortunate ladies’ were being scammed too and given their clearly inhospitable living situations this was a genuine hardship, which admittedly does engender sympathy; the second guy maintained that these women were obviously in the employ of the company managing the scam and were likely being paid very well for the task hence generating quite the comfortable lives for themselves, which engenders no sympathy at all.

…The fact is as much as these 18 – 55-year-old women claim to want to ‘be rescued’ from their current situations, to marry abroad and propagate a family with any man aged between 18 and 70, there will always be something to prevent them from making physical contact, or in fact even from transferring to basic email; they will keep a client in conversation, telling them what they want to hear and making them feel as though they are the only man in the world, while of course paying both ways for the honour, but never actually allowing any progress.

I didn’t stick around to find out how it ends – what the women do or say to eventually shirk the man, or if they keep them hanging on indefinitely – all I know is that I was swindled for 21USD and if those DateAsia ladies are to be believed at least twenty hearts broke when I opted out of the deal.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by D T Asher

Photography by Arn B Lee-Fable

At a time where heartbroken Aussies are pushing the legalisation of medicinal marijuana, similarly heartbroken Kiwis are lobbying for random drugs tests in those professions where drug impairment could endanger public lives.

Revelations that the hot-air balloon operator involved in the infamous ‘2012 Carterton Balloon Crash’ was a renowned cannabis smoker and in fact at the time of the fatal incident had high levels of THC in his system have caused uproar among the families of the deceased, who maintain the belief that had the operator been drug tested prior to the flight, there would have been no tragedy at all.

Somewhat conversely, in Australia cannabis has been praised for its ability to sooth the anxious, to heal the ill, or to bring light to the darkness of a terminal cancer sufferer’s final days.

In New Zealand cannabis has been vilified for impairing the judgment of the aforementioned aeronautics operator, leading to his hot-air balloon colliding with power lines and falling from the sky.

In Australia it looks as though medicinal marijuana will soon become reality, in heavily sanctioned circumstances.

Everywhere you turn in New Zealand cannabis is still being outright vilified; never once is it considered for its inherent benefits.

Of course this Australian liberation is not intended to make the drug any more accessible for recreational purposes; on that fact Australasian Governments are very much in agreement – unless cannabis/marijuana is processed and marketed as a prescription health aid there is no reliable way to ensure complete taxation of the product.

Illicitly grown marijuana in New Zealand is currently so widespread that while legalisation of cannabis cigarettes would indeed result in pervasive smoking of the drug, it would likely generate little tax revenue for the Government on account of the continuation of its illegitimate sale.

Be that as it may, if we were all to take an objective look at alcohol and the volume of harm that it causes – unlike cannabis providing no realistic health benefits and causing no end of detriment yet providing the Government with a veritable goldmine of tax revenue – we would surely agree that it’s not the effects of cannabis that are the issue here.

It’s simply a culture, a worldwide stigma that has been upheld for too long.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Doe P Smore-Carr

Photography by Ben G Dran-Kerr

I recall pretending to listen while my teacher advised her class of Year 11 reprobates, ‘When studying for your exams it’s best to find somewhere absolutely quiet, or if you do want to listen quietly to music, make sure it’s classical music – that’s the only type that’s been proven to promote the learning process…’

I recall further that any attempt I ever made at ‘studying for exams’ was coupled with the irrepressible throb of ‘90s rock music and shit, I still did alright.

This week’s Theory therefore pertains to the belief that those who believed classical music to be beneficial to the learning process maintained said belief because that was the only form of music they themselves could tolerate and furthermore expected that if they pushed such a general and largely erroneous belief, they could perhaps convert the good wholesome rock listeners of the 1990s to their preferred breed of antiquated, geriatric and increasingly obsolete percussive abomination.

According to the boffins classical music stimulates the portion of the mind that controls learning (here’s me thinking it stimulated that sector in charge of registering immense boredom) and perhaps it does improve learning, in those people who enjoy classical music.

It is one thing to assert that a particular variety of music increases the learning ability of a particular group but indeed, quite another to assert that the same kind of music will enhance the learning capabilities of everyone.

Obviously, pleasant tunes have a calming effect on a mind and surely a calm mind is more conducive to the gleaning experience than an agitated one which, incidentally, is exactly what mine becomes with prolonged exposure to disagreeable music.

With that established I think I can safely advise anybody hoping to learn anything, that background music is invariably good, or invariably bad, depending on what kind of person you are; personally, background noise while performing any task is a necessity – as I write this in fact Black Sabbath’s War Pigs fills the occasional blank in thought – and if you’re the same, music is likely beneficial to your learning ability also.

My theory therefore: I do not believe people should pay too much attention to the grey-haired advisory: ‘Tests have shown one can enhance one’s studiousness by listening to classical music’; I think we ought to adhere to our own musical preference and ultimately do as we please.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Gerry Atrick

Photography by Pierre Cassin

Prime Minister John Key’s decision to not attend the Waitangi commemorations this year has left some groups outraged.

In Uncle John’s defence though, despite each year of his leadership having turned up at the Waitangi marae thereby effectively placing himself at the feet of Maori protesters’ vicious affront, he did have a good reason…

The shameless irony is that those very groups who are now whinging about our Prime Minister’s Waitangi absence, and how it indicates a distinct ‘lack of respect’ towards the agreements upheld by the Treaty itself, are largely the same groups of activists who in years past have held assaults on Mr Key, invariably confronting the man with verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse, amid a demonstration in which translation of the ‘respect’, that these people claim to hold hold so dear, has obviously been mixed up.

…The moment Steven Joyce received his world famous turkey slap was presumably the same moment that John Key thought something along the lines of: ‘Gosh, you know, I’ve actchy had enough of ungrateful people for the time being; I do what I know is best in the long term for New Zolland – even if so much of the population remains ignorant thus intransigent and chooses to do what it does so well by going off half-cocked and complaining about a concept about which it has little knowledge because stuff nowadays is just so difficult to learn so it’s actchy sometimes easier just to not bother and to carry on exhibiting blind obstinacy – but the people of New Zolland, bless their chubby little hearts, in turn are just so nasty towards me and, you know, I just don’t understand it, like, you know, because I’m actchy a pretty nice guy once you get to know me…’

I often fill out surveys of a political nature and a question they always ask me is: In one word what do you think is the biggest problem facing New Zealand today?

Invariably I respond: Malcontents.

People who are never quite satisfied with the way things are eventuating around them are, in my opinion, the scourge of this great nation.

Therefore to New Zealand’s thriving contingent of malcontents I offer this: if something bothers you, instead of immediately kicking up a big public stink about it until the dust around you is so thick you can’t see anything else, try approaching the offending issue with a level head, and how about first trying to understand it, try to understand what it is; how about doing some research and trying to understand why it’s happening then after that, possibly the most important piece, try being a little bit vicarious, try employing empathy, try and see the issue from the other’s perspective – how would you respond given a similar situation but – and this is the most important piece, you’ll need to be true to yourself and for God’s sake don’t be a hypocrite about it.

Of the Seven Deadly Sins – Greed, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Anger, Pride, Sloth – it always amazed me that hypocrisy didn’t make the cut.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Nae Shorn

Photography by Mel Corn-Tent

Hallelujah – New Zealand’s medical profession have just come upon a means of controlling ADHD using totally natural products.

True to form of our miraculously open-minded and always ground-breaking medical profession, they made a discovery that my very own mother passed down to her hyperactive child when I was still an ebullient young lad.

Once full of nothing but ridicule for the vitamins and minerals abundant on the surface of our planet, it now seems that’s exactly what doctors are being instructed to prescribe to these cases of Attention Deficit, Hyperactivity Disorder.

Obviously the medical profession will need to do something about these supplements’ innocuous natural health packaging, also fabricate a few warnings about overdose or such and make up some potential side-effects because, well, otherwise it’s just not a medical drug; then of course they’ll have to bump up the health store retail price to run more in accordance with typically exorbitant pharmaceutical products…

I’ve said it in past posts and I will not hesitate to say it again: New Zealand’s medical profession with its expensive research and its extensive testing seems to always ensure it is at least ten years behind the nation’s natural health practitioners.

…So it looks as though New Zealand’s children might be saying goodbye to their side-effect-laden Ritalin and, providing our drug manufacturers don’t over-synthesise these natural products thereby ruining their integrity (as they almost certainly will), this new era might just mean the end of today’s children’s congenital deficiencies in magnesium, selenium, Omega 3; C, D, E, and B-vitamins.

We’ll see.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Kasha P Guise

Photography by U Lugger/B Hind

Unsurprisingly all this talk of the ‘Greatest Trade Progression in the History of the World’ – the Trans Pacific Partnership agreement – has riled a large portion small-minded New Zealand.

In the coming days Prime Minister John Key intends to sign a deal with basically the entire first world extending and ensuring the future prosperity of our great nation; in the coming days a rabble of ‘peaceful’ protesters intend to voice their displeasure at this impending agreement for no other reason than they feel their collective voice has not been heard on the matter.

The phrase ‘future prosperity’ relates directly to aspects such as better healthcare (about which protests have been abundant), lower poverty (plenty of protest there, too), more jobs (about which one cannot escape the protesting…), higher wages (…unless it’s protesting this topic) and basically, improved standard of living; yet these protesters seem to consider it a violation of their democratic rights…

Gosh I’m confused; thus my one question of these protesters, what I would very much like to know to the point that in fact no, screw it, I demand to know, what is it that you people find so very disagreeable about progression? That’s all it’s going to be: the country of New Zealand will be going forward along with the rest of the first world while, I guess, you ignorant protesters will be standing on the street, waving your homemade banners, reciting your hackneyed chants and, despite posing a considerable impediment to the lives of many unfortunate and unrelated people, claiming that ‘what you’re doing is completely legal so you cops can’t touch us’; then when a policeman does politely ask you to move and you spit at his feet eliciting a firm removal from the premises unearthing your fresh protests of ‘police brutality’ because your mind just isn’t sharp enough to come up with anything original to call it, while you watch the rest of the world pass you by for the simple reason that you are against any change especially change for the better.

…Annoying me further was hearing some of these protesters’ Maori contingent gleefully joking that, ‘oh yeah, once we’re done here, it’ll be off to Waitangi for the protests there’ – protests – shit, do you people even know what you’re protesting anymore?

My God, from what I can make out you ungrateful pillocks are complaining about treatment from the man who is ultimately paying your weekly benefits, without which you’d have no time to complain in the first place.

Work that one out.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Noah Thyme

Photography by Mel Con Taint

I believe in this modern era that in order to achieve optimum prosperity, to my immense chagrin, as a people we do not only find it an acceptable practise, we seem to be expected to lie.

This week’s Theory therefore pertains to (in fact it pertains to most every bloody piece I’ve ever written) my unequivocal detestation of, yet the way that the world appears to embrace as an integral part of everyday life, insincerity.

Allow me go back to the first half of last decade, possibly to the moment where my loathing, my utter abhorrence for untruths was developed – as mentioned in previous posts, something about being a heavily brain damaged 17-year-old deep in the rehabilitation stages of his injury seemed to appeal to a number of attractive young women who I’m sure would have otherwise ditched me for a more smooth-talking alternative.

Although I’m sure I didn’t realise it at the time these girls lied to me constantly – presumably in order to capitalise on the fact that I was a responsible young man doing my best to hold down a fulltime job, living with my parents while having for the foreseeable future sworn off the booze that I had been so enjoying for the three years’ prior thus always had money to burn while they, at the respective ages of 18 had applied for the dole and gone out flatting where the only thing that could stem the flow of Kahlua was funding thus rarely had any money at all – about things that now, from a relatively level mind, I cannot believe I ever entertained…

As I read back through I would totally understand if that right there were the reason for my hatred of everything duplicitous yet curiously, we’re not even yet at that defining moment so please, just bear with.

…They’d tell me what a amazing person I was and how any woman would be ‘sooo lucky to have me’, before passing down the classic, ‘Oh no, I would never risk jeopardising our friendship with a relationship – relationships come and go, friendships are forever,’ then somehow merge that in with the fact that they were two weeks late on the rent…

I know; still not there though.

…It was when these wonderful young ladies decided they needed a new sound system and one Saturday allowed me to drive them into the city that I saw firsthand an example of their shameless deceit. (They ‘had no gas’ so driving them in was the least I could do; the most I could’ve done would have been to actually put fuel in their cars – that came later.) They quickly picked out a $2799 stereo system complete with surround sound and told the youthful attendant they’d like to purchase. He asked how they’d be paying. They blinked their eyelashes and asked him if they could do finance. He said no problem, he just needed to do a brief background check…

Standing to one side dressed in a faded check shirt, grease-stained jeans and oil-drenched work-boots, all which combined to somehow emit the delectable odour of stale diesel (the skinless knuckles and blackened hands drooping from my belt further eliminated doubt about the profession), I had wondered why the girls had made such a grand effort that morning on their appearances – two typically flighty, ordinarily casually but always scantily attired teenage girls, could not have appeared more composed or well dressed.

…From my not-too-distant chaperone standpoint I heard the store attendant ask my charges of their professions; he transcribed to his form that they were both lawyers, earning $80,000 a year – but that was soon to go up, he was advised.

The sound system was brought back to the house which, incidentally, I now recall they had also secured under the premise of ‘professional women’, and after a number of big nights with bigger tunes and all manner of liqueurs splashed throughout the CD tray, was repossessed a few months later.

That kind of carry-on didn’t bother me particularly until – as well as a number of angry phone calls I received from Baycorp following the girls’ hasty departure from the country, after having been unknowingly named as their reference (there it is) – years later I visited a similar store in the same mall looking to buy a television on hire-purchase. (At the time I didn’t even really want a new TV, it was just that I had never had anything on hire-purchase and had no credit rating per se, which for some reason I felt was a bad thing.)

I went into the shop, selected a nice $3000, 50 inch model, advised the man I wished to hire-purchase it, he brought out the forms, I answered his questions, not worried about my meagre income on the basis that I was a home owner; he informed me that the finance company had rejected my application.

“How can that be?” I asked, not without frustration, “I own a house – that’s a pretty bloody good safety net..?”

“I know,” said the attendant quietly, “I don’t know what to say.”

“But hang about,” a memory rushed back, “the information you wrote on that form, that was all true … I’ve had friends who were a shitload worse off than I am and they were given the stuff they wanted without question – so what should I have done, lied?”

The attendant peered at me, unblinking but with slightly raised eyebrows.

“Because I can be damn sure,” I went on, “that those dropkicks who came in here a few years back and left with two and half grand’s worth of stereo equipment, only to have it repossessed down the track, lied their pretty little arses off.”

“Well maybe that’s it,” after a short pause the attendant offered his conclusion even more quietly.

That was years ago admittedly, but today the act of lying has become so prevalent that it’s almost accepted as though it’s normal behaviour.

Small businesses often lie about the merits of their products or how they are better than their rivals’, as though it’s acceptable behaviour. It’s not acceptable behaviour, it’s shit.

On the radio, people call in and recount their stories; some of them are just so far out that there is no way they are true, but that’s what the radio DJs want – it’s what they expect, as though it’s acceptable behaviour. It’s not acceptable behaviour, it’s shit.

All those Police shows on TV – or even in reality – when the officer asks the offender a question he/she seems to expect his/her response will be a lie, as though there’s nothing wrong with it; as though it’s acceptable behaviour. It’s not acceptable behaviour, it’s shit.

What about in small claims court, nobody seems to care when two stories are being told about the very same instance yet both are markedly different; when one is found innocent nobody bothers to point out that by implication the other is a dirty rotten liar, as though it’s acceptable behaviour. It’s not acceptable behaviour, it’s shit.

When a man/boy picks up a woman/girl in a bar, (I have heard this and it is disgraceful) I truly think she expects to be fed line after line of bullshit, then it’s not until the morning after that the lies must be sorted from the facts as if that was all just one big stupid game; as though it’s acceptable behaviour. It’s not acceptable behaviour, it’s shit.

Or regarding the above, I’ve known marriages that have been formed on a foundation of lies; as though that morning-after chat didn’t contain quite the level of veracity they’d hoped it would (but then what can one really expect from a lying shit-bag), and where they seem to try and work some sort of precarious balance between truth and falsehood, but which invariably ends up in divorce when one half of the arrangement is finally revealed as the filthy cheat that they are, as though it’s acceptable behaviour. It’s not acceptable behaviour, it’s shit.

My conclusion therefore, my Theory: How the hell can an honest guy expect to make any kind of headway in this life when he’s surrounded by lies? Truthfully, I don’t think he can.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Blum Lass

Photography by Nossup Ta Ball

Two years ago New Zealand parking wardens were forced to waive around $2.5 million of fines; last year that increased to over $3 mil.

Obviously, Auckland citizens particularly, the New Zealand public is outraged; hackneyed quotes from years gone by are being unearthed and revered for their timeless brilliance: “Bloody revenue gathering is all it is,” claims one man, obscuring the licence plate of his illegally parked, recently ticketed, vehicle.

“Failed cops, is all that lot are,” asserts another, once the parking warden is safely out of earshot.

The sad thing is few people actually deny parking their vehicle illegally – until it comes time to pay the fine…

Indeed most people are quite aware that once they have overstayed their 180 minute shopping mall car park time limit, or left their car parked half over a driveway because there were just no other spaces, they are in fact committing an offence; they are aware furthermore that there are a lot of other cars in the area for the warden to check through and that’s a whole heap tyres to chalk so the chances of being hit with an infringement are slim.

…Of course the reason for this increase in waived fines likely has less to do with reckless chalking/ticketing of parking wardens and a whole lot more to do with modern New Zealand’s indifference at bullshitting their way out of trouble…

‘To who it may concern,

I am writing in regards to a parking ticket I got issued with by youse guys the other day. I parked my car in a westfield carpark and me and my missus and my kids got out and did some shopping. One of youse guys must of chalked my tyre when I was gone. Then we took the car over to KFC for some lunch. Then I came back and must of parked in the same spot. And the chalk mark must of been in the same spot to. Freaky coincidence ae but I dont think youse should be aloud to charge me cos I wasnt always there.

Thanks for being so cool about it.

Jimmy Holdsworth’

…Because it is just so very easy to lie and anyway, despite illegally parked cars creating millions of dollars worth of lost revenue to business last year, the above scenario’s not that hard to believe.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Elle Eagle-Parker

Photography by Jimmy Holdsworth

It winds me up to see the world’s mathematicians, statisticians and essentially, this collective alliance of over-sensible, fuddy-duddy, pessimistic dullards, getting together with their pompous senses of reason, facts, figures and numbers, and deriding the lottery.

It may not come as a shock that I am a regular Saturday night participant of Lotto.

Every so often these overeducated boffins seem to sit down with their pen and paper then do their best to abolish any shred of excitement Lotto might bring to the hearts of the hopeful, by making the likelihood of winning anything substantial sound so hopeless, so farcical, so downright implausible and outright impossible that well, you might as well just go off and shoot yourself right now.

That ridicule stops here…

Whenever I see or hear one of these so called statisticians quoting their apparently unimpeachable equations – which I guarantee no one has even cared to check through before broadcasting because who really cares that much? – I briefly flick through the sums being thrown around and yes, of course they add up but, like any good manipulators these people doing the sums have cleverly arranged the facts to best emphasise their points while dismissing any others and ultimately, they give the conclusions they want you to hear.

…In New Zealand anyway, the odds of winning enough to at least cover the cost of your ticket are very good – but that’s not why people play Lotto, hell no, we all want to win the big one, the prize that will immediately elevate us to a far greater status than we could ever have imagined – while the chances of winning that elusive top prize, in a country as sparsely populated as New Zealand, in those weeks where on a Sunday morning it is revealed on paper or TV that somebody has in fact won the first division, in contrast to a nation such as the US and their national draw where you’re one person amid approximately 150 million so what are the chances, in good ol’ NZ you know there’s only around 1 million other lottery contenders you need to defeat in order to take that top prize…

I don’t think though, realistically I mean, anybody actually expects to win Lotto; it’s just something we do for a bit of fun, a little extra joy in the weekend, a small excitement to make up for the fact that although Saturday night was shit and now we really have nothing to look forward to all week, hey, ‘Maybe I won Lotto’.

…That is the optimists approach, unequivocally the gamblers way of perceiving the game: the odds aren’t that bad because it’s a pretty small field. Anyone can waste their time working out the equations, looking at the figures, the facts of probability and so forth, and they can try to tell you that the odds of winning first division are something ridiculous like 1:1 billion but hear this – what were the odds of me, one week over ten years ago, nailing five of the first six numbers on one line, along with the Powerball, to win third division Powerball; then the following week hitting five more numbers on a line to win third division again? …

If the likelihood of winning first division is so slim it’s scarcely worth a mention, second division must possess half that quota of un-likeliness thus third div, half again – still sounds inordinately unlikely to me – then add Powerball to that achievement and again, according to our numbers boffins there is practically zero chance; yet that’s just what I did – in consecutive weeks and yes, once with the Powerball.

…This is the bullshit of statistics and probability; yes probability is likelihood, but life doesn’t always follow likelihood and on the weekend that it doesn’t, I sure as hell want to have bought my Lotto ticket.

That said, those idiots who on winning a large prize suddenly realise that after all this time they actually have no need for the money after all and would just feel so much better if it instead went to some needy charity to help put food in the mouths of impoverished children, or to perhaps help with research to cure the sick or to invest in raincoats to keep dry the wet or something, are indeed idiots: nothing against impoverished children, illness, or staying dry, it’s just that, well, to these people, what the hell do you think you’ve been doing for the past however many years – where do you think your tens of thousands of dollars of lost lottery entries have gone? The New Zealand Lottery Foundation is primarily a charity, thus anybody who decides to award their hard-earned lottery winnings to charity is, in a word, idiotic.

Crap. The above paragraph was an afterthought; I really wanted to close on the one above it but then went and had a bitch about philanthropy, goodwill and all that heart-warming stuff – what would you say are the odds that I could make a copy of the aforementioned excerpt and stick it down there before

This is the bullshit of statistics and probability; yes probability is likelihood, but life doesn’t always follow likelihood and on the weekend that it doesn’t, I sure as hell want to have bought my Lotto ticket.

Also, those who avoid a terrible mishap then on the recommendation of their buddies (Dude, that was so lucky – you should buy a Lotto ticket) go off and buy a Lotto ticket are additional idiots; you’ve already used your quote of luck, why would you expect more?

This is the bullshit of statistics and probability; yes probability is likelihood, but life doesn’t always follow likelihood and on the weekend that it doesn’t, I sure as hell want to have bought my Lotto ticket.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Prue Bibble Lutti

Photography by Taika Chance