It Is All About Me - by Cameron "Whaleoil" Slater

Last night was my 10th blog birthday. It was a big night for me. The Whale Army were out in force at $150 a head to march behind me as I strode forth as New Zealand's most read and with it popular blog.  I gave the audience what they wanted. An exclusive into Dirty Politics. I don't let on to anyone but that book was the BEST thing that's ever happened in my life. It has propelled me to prominence that I couldn't have arranged myself.

Rumours that I arranged the hack myself and sent the USB stick to Nicky Hager so he could do my PR are untrue. Trust me.  My Army does.

I wasn't sure what to write really on the blog today. What with Jason Ede now in hiding dying a slow pathetic death at a Telco, and those gay losers like Carrick, Cactus, Travis, Jordan and Lusk all running for cover it's just me and Pete. That's the way I like it however even if it means I have to do something that is way beyond my ant-like span of attention. Construct a blog post.

I go outside and have a stomp around. I have to channel the anger and have taken sage advice from my close friend and mentor John Banks that perhaps boxing isn't the best thing for me.  Banksie is a loyal friend.  He tells me he has watched the Ryder tape now seventeen times and it was clear to him I slipped into Ryder’s gloves.  He didn’t land a proper punch but explaining would be losing. My blog is nothing without the anger. The hits come from the anger. I just hate everything. Fisher and Nippert. Hate. Bradbury, Brown, Tiso, Blomfield, Prentice, Presland and Thompson. Hate.  Under the bus.

I hate John Key. That weasel won't send me any text messages anymore. He's cut me off. Ever since I sent one of his texts to a new left winger I was mentoring. I let him in to my life and he let me down. I hate him. He is now dead to me. So is the young homeless deaf man I tried to help with $500 here and there. Many men of my age would require oral sex for that sort of money but all I wanted was for him to join the Whale Army. He seemed confused. Not sexually, but just about life and I understood that.  I suffer from depression. (Yes everyone knows that – Ed).

One year I was confused too when Judith (Collins for those readers who have forgotten her already - Ed) asked me if I back up everything. I thought she meant she wanted me to so she could remember everything she ever sent to me. She's a wonderful woman Judith. My daughter wanted to name a stray cat she found after her. I wouldn't have that as stray cats are feral and everything feral is bad. So I told her to go inside and I threw the cat down on the concrete next to the latest sponsored Ute of mine and gave it a chance to run. It looked up into my eyes and meowed a sad pathetic Chris Trotter like howl, I shot it. I'm good with guns. I never miss.  The only good cat is a dead cat.

It wasn't my fault I was hacked. It was Kim Dotcom's. That fat German with the hooker wife. As I say you pay a hooker not for the sex but to leave afterwards and to prove it she eventually did. I hate him. He hates me.  The hate is good for both our ratings.  We are good for each other’s business and branding campaigns.  

I didn't enter the 2015 Canon Media Awards. Ede wasn't around to fill the form in. I am a benevolent Christian sort of guy and I wanted Giovanni Tiso to have a clear shot at winning. I ROFLMAO when he wasn't even a finalist.  That will teach him. I bet he uses an HP printer now anyway.

NFWAB.

Editor - Cameron Slater won the Canon Media Awards Best Blog 2014.  Even before Dirty Politics was published, the left united as one to attempt to have Cameron stripped of the coveted award we understand because he did not write the blog himself.  In 2015 much to the amusement of myself and the horror of the audience Steve Braunias didn't win the award.  The other guy did and was immediately offered a column in the NZ Herald.