A Portrait of an Absolutely Arrogant Arsehole of a Hack as Young Man

If the Courier-Mail’s arrogant halfwit of story pinching hack Trenton ‘Hacker’ Akers isn’t the worst journalist in Queensland, then God only knows who is.

The former groundsman – he describes himself as a groundsmen, so maybe there are two of him, and they are both misogynists, or perhaps he simply doesn’t understand the singular and plural tense, or gender neutral language – at the aptly named Coconut Holiday Resort is a reporter without a single clue.

This is the clown who not only had the temerity a couple of weeks ago to rip off lock, stock and smoking barrel my scoop of a story about Jim Rundle’s racist rant, but then to label it as an ‘Exclusive’ all of his own. The hide of the bloke!

And then when I did the right thing and tried three times to call him to give him the opportunity to explain before I called in the lawyers, the gutless gimp refused to return my calls. You have to wake up earlier in the morning than Hacker does to dodge a Bunger boy though, and I finally caught up with him on his mobile ringing from a blocked number so that I could give him the chance to say ‘Mea Culpa’ and apologise, but the brain dead intellectual property thief elected instead to spit in my eye and denied point blank that he had pinched my piece, all but telling me to go and get f*cked.

Ho, ho, ho Hacker, who’s a silly f*cking c*nt then homeboy? And thus a date with the Press Council awaits, and some wannabe journo is going to have his legs cut off at the knee, and I guarantee you sportsfans that it won’t be me.

But young Hacker is clearly a masochistic exhibitionist who is kind enough not to make us all wait to witness his professional execution, for he’s decided to commit Hara Kiri by publicly immolating himself on the front pages of the Courier-Mail.

Just turn to page 4 of today’s paper ladies and gentleman, and you will have the rare pleasure of witnessing Queensland’s worst journalist demonstrating his finest work. And here it is, yet another EXCLUSIVE from the bloke who wouldn’t know one if it bit him fairly and squarely on the arse.


Oh my!

Brendan Abbott, the dreaded ‘Postcard Bandit’ – who isn’t – is going to make a run for it!

Yes that’s right sportsfans, according to the gun reporter Hacker, the prisoner who’s kept his head down for 17 years is going to make a run for it any time that he gets a chance. He’s always looking for the opportunity apparently, and despite being a 53 year old physical and mental wreck the bloke who’s done more time than most murderers has already hatched a sinister plan to escape from the most secure correctional facility since Alcatraz.

If you believe Hacker’s tale then you believe in fairies, and that’s no surprise given that the source of the clown’s ‘exclusive’ is a bloke named after the master teller of fairy tales, a retired prison guard called Hans without the ‘Christian’ Anderson.

Now if Hacker knew how to check a fact he’d be dangerous, because this particular Hans Anderson hasn’t worked for the Corrections Department for almost 5 years, and is in fact these days the humble proprietor of a corner store in downtown Woodend, Ipswich, known to the locals simply as ArseEnd.

Of Nowhere.

To make matters worse for Hacker, the shopkeeper who’s provided him with his scoop hasn’t actually worked with the Imprisoned Man Who’s Hatched a Devilish Plan for 14 years, and even then directly guarded him for only 4 short years between 1998 and 2002.

Now that’s embarrassing enough on its own, and the editor should be reaching for the pink slip and the Dear John stamp right now, but it only gets worse.

You see, the same Hans Anderson the shopkeeper, wearing his same shopkeeper’s shirt, appeared in the exact same august publication just 18 months ago telling another one of Rupert’s gun young Reporters – the hapless Jason ‘Tintin’ Tin – a somewhat different tall story about his dealings with inmate Abbott.


In somewhat of a knock to whatever slim thread still remains of Hacker’s credibility,  on this particular occasion the screw turned red snake and spearmint leaves seller described Abbott as a ‘model inmate’, telling Tintin that Abbott was a gentleman who was no risk at all of strolling out the prison door, even if it was left wide open and with a flashing red sign saying Emergency Exit and a fire siren was blaring.

In fact in this story Hans the publicity hound Anderson actually laughed at fears that the prisoner might escape, and regaled readers with what he thought a funny story about a practical joke that a fellow guard had pulled to gee up his mates into thinking that the one-time bank robber was planning an unexpected exit from his home of nearly 2 decades without saying goodbye to Mum and Dad..

Ha, ha, ha he chortled. As if good ol’ Brendan would pull that crazy stunt!

So what’s changed in the 18 months since during which the sole source of both stories has been working in a convenience store in ArseEnd?

Simple answer? Not much, not even the fairy tale tellers shirt.

Just his ever changing salacious story he rolls out in various varieties in order to get his extremely ugly mug and his nine carat plated nonce’s jewellery in the local fish and chips wrapper

The poor quality of the young-gun Courier-Mail journalists though is like the visage of old man time.


While the pretend penman’s names may change, the drivel that they deliver is immutable, and provides absolute proof of my old Grandma’s dictum that bullsh*t may catch fire and burn away, but the smell of crap lingers forever.

Top work Trenton. You are hacker of the highest order, an absolute gold medal winner in gratuitous imbecile stakes.

A gig doing PR for the turtles in the Galapagos Islands awaits.