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Snarky Gherkin, Pyalong (2025)

19/09/2025

As I sit here sipping my pickle martini in a low-lit jazz bar, a thought tickled my brine-soaked brain...

Is this a martini that just so happens to have a pickle in it?

Or *and hear me out* does the inclusion of the pickle fundamentally make it a pickle martini?

Because you can’t just lob a gherkin into a glass and insist, “It’s just a normal martini!”
The garnish changes the flavour. The vibe. The whole damn point of the drink.

Same goes for those “March for Australia” rallies. You can’t invite NSN lads to goose-step along beside you and then act surprised when the whole thing reeks of vinegar and boot polish.

If your movement has Nazi's in it... it’s a pickle martini. Or not. Or maybe it is. I'm confused myself but you get the point.

Own it. Or order som**hing else.

19/09/2025

Cheers to the weekend, you magnificent Gherkins.

Keep it elegant, friends... at least until 10pm.

Then all bets are off. 🥃🍸🍸🥒

19/09/2025

One risked everything to join our community.
The other couldn’t even risk a mild inconvenience.

And no, Trent, printing and laminating your false exemption doesn’t count as ‘bravery'.

18/09/2025

Daily Fail: Scientists FINALLY admit vaccines were INEFECTIVE.

Yes, inefective. With one ‘F’. Because nothing screams trusted medical analysis like a typo that wouldn’t survive Year 6 spelling bee.

Now, if you stopped at the headline (and let’s face it, that’s their target audience) you’d think this was some dramatic revelation.
The truth? They're talking about a nuanced, well-explained immunology study that actually reinforces everything legitimate scientists have been saying for over two years.

So let’s unpack it... because your uncle Darren won’t.

WHAT THE ARTICLE ACTUALLY SAYS
(once you scrape past the caps lock):

• mRNA vaccines saved up to 20 million lives in their first year... that’s not fringe speculation, that’s independent and Imperial College data.

• A Japanese study tracked ~2,500 people over 18 months. All had two shots and a booster.

• They found four groups:

1. Durable responders (29%) – stayed protected long-term.

2. Average responders (34%) – average protection duration.

3. Rapid decliners (19%) – strong start, faded quickly.

4. Vulnerable (28%) – weak response, faded fast.

(No, the 110% is not an error. It’s 100% of people experiencing multiple response patterns, over time. Just like how you can be tired, caffeinated, and still a bit Snarky all at once. Same people overlapping in to different criteria)

About half the people had a faster-than-ideal drop in antibodies, especially in the vulnerable + rapid groups. These folks had a modest increase in reinfection risk compared to the durable group.

Modest.
Not catastrophic.
Not a "hoax."
Not “proof the jab don’t work.”
Just normal biological variation... som**hing the cooker crowd seems violently allergic to.

What the cookers are yelling:

"SEE! THEY LIED! IT NEVER WORKED!"

What the study actually says:

“It worked. For many, it worked very well. For others, we might need tailored boosters or combined alternate therapies.”

That’s called science. That’s how it works.

Now let’s talk about that headline.
INEFECTIVE. Not ineffective. Not effective.

Here’s where my favourite conspiracy kicks in... I don’t think the typo is accidental.

I think it's deliberate... because this post isn’t made for people who read.
It’s bait. Made to catch the eye of people who see “vaccine + bad + science admits” and share it before their second iced long black hits the dash of the Hilux.

Most normies see it, squint, roll their eyes, and mutter “another dog’s breakfast from The Fail” before scrolling past to a post of Snarky Gherkin enjoying some Spanish cuisine.

But Darren? Darren sees that headline and yells “I TOLD YOU!”
Because Darren never read past paragraph one in his life. And Daily Mail knows it.

So here’s the verdict... vaccines worked. Some people need longer-lasting boosters. Cookers are still allergic to nuance.

And the Daily Mail is still allergic to proofreaders.

18/09/2025

Busy day. Dinner now at MoVida.

Every now and then, a meal just resets the clock.

Tomato-rubbed bread... sunlight and salt pressed into gorgeous carbs.

Anchovies sharp enough to slice through guilt.

Burrata smoother than a politician on trial.

Beef cheek so rich it hasn’t filed a tax return since 2006.

And churros?
Therapy you can dip.

¡Salud! 🍷🇪🇸🥒

18/09/2025

*sigh*

I know I said I’d step away from the Charlie Kirk stuff…

But now cookers are 'transvestigating' both Kirk and his wife because… skull shapes and walking posture?

The paranoid mind has finally eaten itself.
They’ve gone so deep into conspiracy psychosis they’re accusing anybody who makes it in to the headlines of being trans as a default setting.

Apparently, the Telegram hive mind has decided that:

• Charlie Kirk was secretly a biological woman (based on "feminine gaits" and skull shape overlays straight from a year 8 PowerPoint),

and

• His wife Erika is a biological man, because *wait for it* she has a jawline.

Because of course.

The cooker psyche is so deep into its own conspiracy ouroboros that they’ve now started gender reverse-engineering people, anybody!

But here’s my favourite part...
If Charlie Kirk was secretly FtM, and Erika is MtF… doesn’t that just make them a straight couple?

Like… congratulations? You’ve just looped all the way back to heteronormativity but with extra steps and a tinfoil overlay.

This isn’t a commentary on the Kirks.
It’s a commentary on the sad, paranoid wasteland of minds that can’t engage with reality unless it’s been passed through a filter of delusion, gait analysis, and TikTok redlines.

You can’t fix this.
You can only sigh.

18/09/2025

Some of you may remember Aussie anti-vax grifter Elle Salzone… or was it Elle Jade or Zahlow?

Hard to keep track... she changes her name more often than RDA spokesperson flip-flops on what rallies to attend or not.

Back in her heyday she was deep in the pandemic grift circuit... anti-vax influencer, affiliate links for snake oil, spruiking detox teas and ranting about “mass awakening” while uploading selfies filtered like a Glomesh fever dream.

But unlike most of her dusty former colleagues still rage-posting about Dan Andrews from a folding chair in their garage… Elle’s actually moved on.

She’s now the proud owner of a cocktail bar in Georgia.

Not the state. The country!!

Yes... Georgia. Land of khachapuri, mountains, and now, apparently, cucumber martinis with a side of "I used to be famous on Telegram".

And y’know what? Credit where it’s due.

We won’t say her record’s squeaky clean (cookers rarely delete all the content, and the receipts live forever) but she’s no longer stuck in 2021 like the rest of the crew trying to decrypt PCR test patents from 2003.

She’s in 2025, sipping on cocktails with actual cucumbers in them.
That’s called evolution.

So here’s to Elle:

From anti-vax affiliate queen to Georgian bar owner.
We genuinely wish you the best in your new venture.
May your cocktails be cold and your WiFi remain conspiracy-free.

🍸🥒🇬🇪

17/09/2025

Coming soon: “LARP-ageddon.”
October 19, 2025.
Mark your calendars. Or don’t.

Because instead of showing real footage of last month's turnout of suncooked units, a melted inflatable kangaroo, and someone yelling about Jacinta Ardern from a mobility scooter, they’ve now resorted to AI-generated Christian crusader cosplay.

Chainmail. Crosses. Blonde angel warriors riding into battle with pixel-perfect symmetry and spotless white horses.

Because nothing screams “grassroots Aussie movement” quite like ethnically ambiguous AI babes and medieval warlords with pec implants.

Why?

Because they can’t use actual footage.
Because the last real event looked like someone shook a m**h rehab clinic into the car park of a regional Bunnings, slapped a Southern Cross tattoo on it, and gave it a megaphone.

So instead… they dream.
They dream of purity, of holy missions, of neat rows of obedient white men marching for a cause no one outside their Telegram thread understands.
It’s not about immigration.
It’s about nostalgia. A nostalgia for a country that never existed, and a role in it they never earned.

A fabricated history. A fantasy where they’re the chosen few, spiritually anointed by AI angels and cleansed of all the failures they refuse to face.

Because the real world? The one with jobs, mortgages, multiculturalism, and consequences?
That’s too hard.
So they construct a better one in their heads.
A world where they’re warriors.
Not washed-up blokes with burner phones and unpaid child support contributions.

The psychology?
It’s the oldest scam in history.
When you can’t find meaning, invent it.
When you can’t build anything real, mythologise your resentment.
When you’re drowning in irrelevance, cosplay as a crusader and call it “saving the nation.”

This isn’t a protest.
It’s a fever dream, stitched together by AI prompts and desperation.
And like all good delusions, it only survives if normies like us don't mock it.

So mock it.

Because Australia doesn’t need saving.
It needs protecting... from this bizarre, white-knuckled hallucination in chainmail.

17/09/2025

“The EU Admitted There Was No Safety Data!”
(Citation Needed, You Telegram Barrister)

Another day, another frantic screenshot from someone whose medical advice fits neatly on a bumper sticker next to “Honk if you love horse paste.”

Today’s conspiracy soufflé is built on this spicy claim:

“The EU Commission admitted the COVID vaccines were given without sufficient safety data.”

Big words. Dramatic font. Usually paired with a photo of Ursula von der Leyen looking frustrated or photoshopped into a prison jumpsuit.

Let’s dissect this, scalpel in one hand, coffee in the other.

What Actually Happened:

The quote comes from Austrian MEP Gerald Hauser, who asked a leading question in EU Parliament like he was auditioning for a Daily Wire conspiracy doco. He didn’t expose anything. He just asked:

“Why didn’t the Commission tell citizens that safety and efficacy were not guaranteed?”

That’s called political theatre. You’re allowed to ask dumb questions in Parliament. It doesn’t mean the question becomes fact.

Then comes the contract bit... and yes, in the vaccine contracts (pages 48–49), it says:

“Member States accept that long-term effects and efficacy are not known and that unknown side effects may occur.”

That’s… standard legal phrasing That’s not a revelation, it’s boilerplate legal language you’ll find in any emergency-use medical contract. Standard risk disclaimers, not hidden confessions.

What This Doesn't Mean:

✖️ The EU didn’t admit wrongdoing.
✖️ They didn’t say “we had no safety data.”
✖️ They didn’t say “the vaccine was unsafe.”
✖️ They didn’t say “we hid the truth from the people.”

They said, in the middle of a health crisis, “short-term safety looks good enough to save lives right now... and we’ll keep monitoring.”

That’s called risk management. Or as cookers call it: “GENOCIDE.”

So why does a legal disclaimer about long-term effects become a war crime in the minds of conspiracy theorists?

The quote going around is just another round of misrepresented courtroom fanfiction.

It’s not a “gotcha.”
It’s not a confession.
It’s just standard legal phrasing twisted by people who think terms and conditions are part of a global depopulation ritual.

If you really want to find a crime here, try charging griftfluencers with aiding and abetting stupidity.

Stay safe. Stay sharp.

17/09/2025

Happy Hump Day, Legends

We’ve made it halfway through the week... and frankly, that deserves a toast.

Let’s glide into Thursday like smug, slightly pickled Gherkins.

Cheers to keeping it together.

17/09/2025

If you’re struggling to keep up with the ever-expanding Venn diagram of confusion, nationalism, detox smoothies and amateur flag semaphore... don’t worry. You’re not alone. We are deep into the Cooker Civil War now.

It began with the March for Australia, a reheated, mouldy leftover from the lockdown era, hastily reheated with slogans like “Stop Mass Immigration” and “No Foreign Flags”. This one’s been commandeered by none other than Bec Freedom, armed with a microphone, a flagpole, and a commitment to shout at the void with the intensity of a suburban mum who’s been banned from Centrelink for yelling “UN Agenda 21” too many times.

That rally was a catfish of sorts with NSN (National Socialist Front) *Neo-Nazis* really behind it, trying to cosplay as patriots but mostly looking like rejected Wolfenstein characters. The vibes were off, the turnout underwhelming, but for some, it felt like the good ol’ days of rambling on the steps of Parliament with a laminated sign.

Then came the anti-vax splinter crew with their “End Corruption” rally... essentially a multilevel marketing expo for colloidal silver, tallow candles, and “freedom patches”. It was less protest and more wellness cult open mic. Think sovereign citizens, energy healers, one bloke selling bleach, and a woman screaming “My aura is being 5G’d!”

And now *cue dramatic music* Monica Smit re-enters stage left with her Put Australia First rally. She flip-flopped four times leading up to Bec’s event (was she in? Was she out? No one knows, including Monica), but now she’s back with her own shinier, better-funded sequel. The vibes? “Infowars meets Country Women’s Association.” The website? Professionally designed. The audience? Confused.

Nobody agrees on what they’re actually rallying for anymore.

One side wants a white ethno-state and “heritage” (read: thinly-veiled white supremacy), the other side wants to detox their pineal glands and abolish local councils. One wants prayer circles, the other wants a civil war. Some want to overthrow the UN, others just want their Facebook bans lifted. None of them can define “sovereignty” but they’re absolutely certain you’re taking it away from them.

It’s not a movement... it’s a three-ring circus with no ringleader and twelve different main characters.

The rallies are multiplying, the messages are diverging, and the cookers are now rallying against one another in a mad dash for the last crumbs of clout. Expect more infighting, backstabbing, and a few more “marches” to the steps of Parliament where three dozen people yell into megaphones while tourists try to get a photo of the building without an unvaxxed mullet in the frame.

Welcome to The Cooker Wars.

16/09/2025

The Canavan

In a steakhouse somewhere between Rockhampton and a depleted quarry, there is said to be a meal.
A char-grilled icon of rural decline.
The Canavan.

It calls itself a steak sandwich.
Flame-grilled... though flames haven’t been seen in this kitchen since 2004.
Not since they went “microwave exclusive.”

It arrives wrapped in foil so thin it clings to the bread like guilt.
Grease blooms across the paper like an oil spill.
A sticker slapped on top reads:
“Real Flammin’ Aussie.”

You open it.

The bread is blackened.
Not toasted but torched.
The steak is dry. The grill marks drawn on with a marker pen.
A slab of cosplay and denial, microwaved until all life has fled… then reheated out of spite.
Again and again.

There’s no onion.
No tomato.
No sauce.
Just heat and history.
And a smear of som**hing brown that might once have been mustard... or could have once been new ideas.

You ask if it comes with chips.
The woman at the counter laughs with a wheeze, struggling to catch her breath.

“Ya can ask...
but you’ll get what you’re bloody given.”

You take a bite.

It’s loud.
Dry.
Ashy.
It tastes like someone tried to cook a campaign ad on a rusted barbecue and called it policy.
Each chew is like biting through coal ash and redundancy.

There’s no seasoning.
Only a twang.
And not the good kind...
the kind that sweats through a poorly fitted suit while yelling about baseload power
in the abandoned carpark of a Mitre 10.

It comes with a serviette.
Coal black.
Printed with the words:

“You can’t eat solar panels.” — M. Canavan

You chew.
You swallow.
You feel your body try to turn it into energy... but it refuses.
Like it knows this isn’t food.
Just denial, flattened and fried.

You ask where the meat’s from.
She says:

“Queensland, mostly.”
Then adds:
“You city folk wouldn’t understand,”
as her smile turns to a snarl.
Cheap tin bangles clang against each other as she turns away.

And when you’re done...
mouth dry, lips blackened,
bits of charred coal stuck to your teeth like broken promises, you sit back in that faded plastic chair next to a broken fan, staring into nothing, and wonder:

How can som**hing made from so much heat still leave you so cold?

Snarky Gherkin

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