KEY POINTS:
"Does this mean we can choose who to banish?" This was the QC's reaction when he saw last Saturday's news that one- in-10 New Zealanders is thinking of moving permanently to Australia in the next 12 months.
First on his list - drivers, usually men in hats, who hog the centre line at 95km/h, blocking overtaking, speeding up in the passing lanes and screaming through roadworks and built-up areas.
I'd drink to that, and buy one-way tickets for the following: Anyone who sends or reads text messages while walking along the street. The reason this is infuriating to other pedestrians seems obvious, except to those who can't be parted from electronic communication for one second.
I refuse to get out of their way, and when the inevitable collision ensues, they goofily mumble an apology but carry right on texting. What's the point of apologising if you don't mean it and haven't learnt from your mistake? Send them to darkest Tasmania.
New MPs who invite you to lunch then take your polite refusal personally. You were boring three years ago as a land agent, Rotarian, or farmer, what makes you think you're interesting now? Some of us can think of more exciting things to do, such as wash our hair, than waste an hour dining with a politician. Get lost, preferably somewhere in the Australian desert.
All disciples of the religion, Climate Change Adventists, who unquestioningly hold the faith that global warming's destroying the planet, the consequence of man's environmental sins.
The new religion's official status was confirmed by certain members of the Parliamentary Press Gallery, who ran after Maurice Williamson and Lockwood Smith asking, "Do you believe in global warming?"
Past Prime Ministers would have cackled back, "Do you believe in the tooth fairy?"
I suggest setting up a commune for these disciples, somewhere very hot in Northern Territories, so every day they can be happy in their self-flagellation.
Anyone clutching a water bottle every waking moment of their time. And what is it about fat people and water bottles? Does the water make them fat, or do they think suckling away at a teat will make them slim?
Goodness knows how many people died of thirst before the portable water bottle was invented - and good on the entrepreneurs who made millions out of this craze. Fools and their money are soon parted.
How ironic then that when any local body tries to charge extra for water supply, citizens are outraged at the prospect of privatisation. More candidates for the Australian outback.
Insensitive ignoramuses who treat elderly people like fools. Just because they're unsteady on their feet, a bit slow in their reactions, and have difficulty coping with modern technology such as ATM machines, doesn't mean they should be spoken to as if they're less than human.
In the past three weeks my mother moved to live close by, and taking her shopping, to movies, the doctor, etc, has been an eye-opener. In our little village everyone is extraordinarily wonderful, but in bigger towns I see professionals talk down to her as if she's five years old.
Mum was in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force during World War Two, buddy, so you show her some respect, lest you too be on a slow boat to the Australian outback.
Rudesters who talk on cellphones while being served in shops. My advice to retailers - don't serve them. Why should they have your undivided attention when they've left what manners they ever had in the toilet?
Pushers of P - the scourge of New Zealand youth - and marijuana comes a near second. Close to joining them are the simpletons from Act On Campus who sold party pills on the grounds they were simply promoting individual liberty.
Fine, in theory, but the same philosophy applies to taxpayers who might want - but don't have - the right to choose not to fund these particular students' education and the valuable real estate where they promoted their wares.
If they believe in choice and individual freedom, they can find - or found - a private university somewhere in Oz - Macquarie Island might be a starting place.
Sadly, this columnist's wishes are but wild horses. The best of ours will cross the Tasman, and we'll be left with all of the above.
