The document below is the Racing Queensland Notice of Annual Meeting that was published on the State Government Statutory Authority’s website about 7 weeks ago and remains there still.
Pay particular notice to the section of the Racing Act 2002 under which Racing Queensland’s highly paid desert vet and CV padder turned CEO Eliot ‘ET’ Forbes purports to have called the meeting.
Now this ET bloke – a 4 foot, 40 pound ball of frustrated gay-sexual aggression nothing from nowhere with a terrible attitude, a chip on his shoulder and a marked absence of manners and respect whose main claims to fame are that he organised the flight bookings and typed up the agenda for a single edition of an annual Asian Racing Conference that’s been being held for 30 years, and that he hooked the books in the racing backwater of Tasmania to make it look like the club had turned a profit when it hadn’t – is being paid $400 grand a year by the Queensland taxpayer to run the State’s racing control body the Queensland All Codes Racing Industry Board trading as the Racing Queensland Board trading as Racing Queensland.
Confused by the three names?
Don’t worry, so’s the clown earning $8 grand a week to run the joint. In fact he hasn’t got a clue what it’s actual name is under law which is clear to see from the Annual Meeting notice above that he issued which fails to mention the Queensland All Codes Racing Industry Board at all.
That ET doesn’t even know the name of the outfit he heads should come as no surprise to the sportsfans, because the incompetent arse-licking ingrate with the appalling judgement clearly hasn’t read – or if he has, doesn’t comprehend or understand – the enabling legislation that created the control body and enabled him to have a bloody job at all, and he’s such a f*cking jumped up little dill that ET’s gone and advertised the fact of his ignorance in flashing lights for the whole world to see.
Even if you don’t normally watch the videos we post with our stories – you should, a lot of thought goes into them and they complement the yarns – I’d urge you to click on this one because it sums the moral of the tale up in just four short words
That feckless and f*cking hopeless fool Forbes really pissed me off at the Racing Queensland Annual Meeting this morning, and not at all for the reason that he was rude and belligerent to me.
That’s just the act of a churlish schoolboy who’s been bowled middle stump by a yorker first ball for a golden duck, and I expect that from a sniveling suck ant who I’ve totally got the better of because I’m smarter and who can’t cop the fact; and if you dish it out like I do you’d be a pea-hearted squid not to accept that you’ve gotta cop it in return; and if the sh*t disher is such a dodo that he can’t help but show his rank unprofessionalism by allowing his ego to override his brain, well come in spinner I say and haven’t you just proved my own point for me you moron?
I was a union official for 20 years – and a damn good one too, a rare cloth cap wearer who was so expert in the usually separate arts of campaigning. media and PR, and the law that I could write my own ticket here and overseas, and did – so causing faux conflict to take the boss’s eye off the ball so the workers I represent sneak through and get a better deal while the boss only has eyes of fire for me has always been part of my repertoire and perhaps even my stock in trade.
I’m a big boy with broad shoulders, and when people I’m having a crack at because they’re doing the wrong thing lose their cool and crack a spack back it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Quite to the contrary in fact. I love it, ‘cos it’s a dead set give away every time the spack cracker’s about to lose the battle as well and I’ve won, and tells me that they really should have spent more time studying Sun-Tzu’s classic strategy tome The Art of War instead of wasting their days convening meetings to decide how many Iced Vo-Vo’s should be placed in the staff room cookie jar every morning.
That aggressive sh*t’s fun, and water off a Downfall Creek duck’s back.
What pisses me off is when an incompetent CEO sucking 8 grand a week out of the public purse decides to show outright disrespect to the rain-soaked rank and file industry members who’d made the effort to answer his invitation and battle the traffic and an Eagle Farm stable infield flooding downpour to come along to the ridiculously timed 8:00 am Annual Meeting of their sport, and accuse a number of THEM of being rude and treat them like pieces of sh*t on his shoes just because they want to ask a few polite questions about what the hell is going on in their sports right now and what the future holds.
It’s downright disgraceful and un-Australian behavior and it’s just not on. If Eliot Forbes wants to treat members of the Queensland greyhound, harness and gallops industries like poor indentured Filipino maids in Qatar whose passports have been seized by the human slave traffickers who provide them as servants to foreigners like the Chief Vet in the Muslim Monarchy, well he can f*ck off back there and do it.
This is Queensland, the state of mates, where well-meaning and honest people give each other a fair go and treat other with a modicum of bloody respect, and blokes like ET Forbes who might have been born and raised here but f*cked off to Arabia as soon as they could so they be with like-minded camels and have only returned so they can pocket our coin can either play like Maroons or piss off like the cockroaches their behavior shows them to be, and if ET wants to take issue with that well there a couple of dozen good men and women from the dog and trots industries there yesterday who saw what I saw and will I’m sure be happy to stand up and put their hands on a bible and say so.
That’s a pretty f*cking fair spray isn’t it? Well let me assure you that after his jellyfish impersonating performance at the Annual Meeting yesterday morning ET deserves every word of it and a whole lot more.
F*ck me, the stupid c*nt even had the idiocy to contradict his own boss the Whirlwind!
Is Forbes a half-wit or something? (that’s a rhetorical question).
Here Whirlwind was raving on with well-spun corporate gibberish – he’s good Whirlwind, don’t you worry about that; doesn’t know a bloody thing about racing, but he’s a polished and highly talented boardroom floor performer – and trying to spin his way out of giving a hard answer on a rubbery claim he’d made a minute or so before, when ET suddenly decided to jump in and save his boss by making a totally contradictory claim to the one that Whirlwind was employing great poise and fine prose to confuse the mug punters into believing might, may, could have been, maybe was, yeah it is, actually true.
The Whirlwhind shot daggers at the deluded ET – he was clearly pissed off at the Desert Vet from the get go, no doubt due to the comic imitation of a CEO’s brain snap in issuing a press release supporting the LNP’s racing policy a few days out from the election; and here the pre-dynamic tension training Charles Atlas was wigging out again – but the little fella totally missed it and just kept on running down the Back to the Desert Sands or the Devil’s Isle Road of contradicting his Chairman.
It was only after a combination barrage of ‘You Say This, But Whirlwind Said That!’ style questions from yours truly, and the sharp pain caused by Whirlwind’s handcrafted hard leather RM Williams left cuban heel stamping down on his Macau-manufactured hush puppied toes that ET twigged that he’d f*cked up again and shut up, and then stuttering madly moved to shut the question down.
Like I said at the start, ET’s a moron. He can’t even get a meeting notice right.
This underneath is section 27 of the Racing Act 2002 (Qld).
If you want to take a look for yourself you can find it here.
It doesn’t say a damn thing about the calling of Annual Meetings does it?
That’s because it’s all about the formation and constitution of the control body managing codes of racing. You know, those ones like Racing Queensland with that CEO called ET?
I’s not about the calling of Annual Meetings at all.
They’re called under Section 9AV of the Act.
It’s an easy mistake to make punters, you have to admit that.
Nine Hey Vee
They sound just the same don’t they? Well sort of anyway. You can hear it if you close your eyes and you focus your mind on it real hard, and just imagine that its true.
It works. Dead set, try it, and say it slow …
… twenty seven, NINE AV, twenty seven, NINE A7, twenty seven, TWENTY A7, twenty seven, TWENTY SEVEN!
Eliot’s a lot smarter than we think Sportsfans.
Or so he thinks.