Time for some long overdue uplifting, and constructively critical commentary from you. In other words, let us cross the border and enter the Nutbag City Limits - yessssssssss!  

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Now look, I’m not above criticism. And that’s how you’ve gotta be on YouTube, because the comments feed is something of a cesspit. But, frankly, I just haven’t been getting the hate I deserve lately. And I blame you. Only one video in my past 30 sits below 90 per cent likes. And it’s at 89.8 - so it’s only technically hated. Where have all the haters gone?  Now, the glace cherry on the icing of the nutty cake today, allegedly from the Grand Cherokee Owners’ Club of Shitsville Facebook page, from a dude I’ll call, simply ‘Trev’:  “The guys an absolute flog with an agenda” - Trev.  Goodness - I think he means me. My recent ‘Jeep/don’t buy’ report the other day: 97.3 per cent likes to dislikes. Trev was probably one of the 2.7 per cent.  I do enjoy ‘absolute flog’ status these days - that’s quite true. Lifetime platinum, double diamond advantage flog. It’s awesome - straight into the Chairman’s Lounge at Club Flog. And yet, for so much of my life I was only a partial flog.   And not for want of trying. But then I got ‘Dickhead Pro’ and my life changed. I went properly ‘next level’. I decided to become your next Pry Mincer and Make Australia Less Shit. It’s certainly audacious. But, together, I know we can do this.  And let’s face it, ‘absolute flog’ is the minimum accepted qualification to be Pry Mincer these days. That’s in the constitution.  You can tell I am qualified from my Linkedin profile, which I updated this morning, the better to reflect Trev’s assessment of my Pry Minsterial suitability.  Clearly I do have an agenda, which I enthusiastically prosecute: To prevent as many people as possible from buying badly supported shitheaps. And I do find Grand Cherokee in particular so disappointing  - because it looks so good and goes so well, and is so capable across a breadth of operating conditions, and the price is so right, frnkly. Pity about the reliability, the ownership cost, and (of course) the emphatically crap support.  Trev, of course, was unfinished in the domain of critical assessment. He was on a roll:  “I bet he hasn’t owned or even driven a Jeep … the only thing he drives is a b*tt plug all the way up.” - Trev.  Trev, mate … I generally prefer dinner and a few drinks before we go for the plug.  Perhaps we could pre-emptively discuss current events and have a few laughs. Get out on the dance floor. Sing some karaoke. Get to know one another first. There are social conventions here mate.  Still, I do rather look forward to hosting the annual Grand Cherokee Owners’ Club of Shitsville convention to be held this year (at my suggestion) at iconic Sydney kink dungeon, Temple 22, where I sincerely hope Grand Cherokee club members will get a different taste of pain and denial - at a somewhat lower cost, and without the public humiliation they are so used to. So that’s nice.  The late, great Chrissy Amphlett, of course, sang the haunting ballad of the Jeep owner, entitled so memorably: ‘I touch Myself’. And in Ms Amphlett’s own words, in respect of Jeep ownership, I think it’s fair to say there’s a fine, fine line between pleasure and pain.