Daylight saving zombies ATTACK!!!

Somebody's squeezed a few vials of Viagra into the tea urn down at Daylight Savings Zombie Central. Yes siree, there's a whiff of victory in the air and the cardigan brigade couldn't be more excited if Eoin Cameron was back on the electoral hustings.

It's been slim pickings this past week in the zombie hunt pack. Frank's done his best, but with Carps on the sidelines turning to fat and The Lazy Aussie running decoy for Barnett, he's pushing shit uphill with the proverbial toothpick.

Bento is hell bent on cutting the fiends down to size with his Ruger semi-auto with the hollow tip slugs Skink smuggled in from Taiwan, but the Bus Driver and his crazy partner Tea are providing safe passage in a steel plated ex-Transperth bus. Couldn't penetrate that sucker with a Zeliska 600 Nitro Express Revolver.

It's great to have new blood in Shazza come on-board to take on the hand-to-liver spot dotted hand-combat, but for every new body we gain, another falls by the wayside. The Outrage Cohen has been next to useless since he started mainlining that aqua-farmed squid from Chinese-Taipei. It was only a matter of time before the zombies commandeered the presses at The Post to turn out their JUST SAY NO propaganda, but at least the Stones Green Ginger-based Molotov that Poor Lisa lobbed through the window put a spanner in the works.

The regionals are where we're really copping it in the neck and although Rolly is making all the right noises, my fears are that he's working as a double agent. Word is he has plans to put Matt Birney under the wheels of his tractor and seed him with a GM-free canola crop.

The referendum is drawing ever closer. The excited chatter of false teeth and the snap of elasticated double-waisted pants is a drill boring through my skull, making passage for the savage rays that will surely exact their revenge when summer 09/10 rolls around.

As I wander the early morning beaches, taking out the kneecaps of those rendered incontinent at the giddy joy of banishing daylight saving to the dark bottom drawer where Sunday trading resides, my thoughts start to wander.

Lonely summer afternoons on the beach watching a feeble, febrile sun slink away into the Indian Ocean at 6.30pm. Riding back from Little Parakeet Bay on Rottnest Island asking no one in particular, 'Hey, who turned out the lights?'. Poking the snags on the backyard barbie in the half gloom wondering if they're going black, or if it's just the fading light. Sending down a beam ball to the number one son in the Floreat nets and realising too late that he can't see jack shit and is about to wear an incrediball on the chin.

But I guess that's okay, cause the zombies will march forth in the early morn like some remake of Wacko Jacko's Thiller video, boldly striding along to the beat of their own selfish drums as the rest of us consider block-out curtains to keep the baby from waking up at 4.30am.

They'll gather in excited clusters at suburban Chinese restaurants in the 6pm gloom, proferring wine coolers and competing with each other as to who goes to bed and gets out of bed the earliest. 'Water the lawn at 4am, tea on the table at 4.30pm and in bed with Graham Maybury by 6.30pm - that's the life Frank!"

I gather I'm not alone in the YES army, but I feel that our numbers are thin and the zombies are on the rise. Indeed, I think there will be people who vote NO simply because they feel that somehow the people in the eastern states are trying to get one over them. If it aint broke, don't fix it.

And then there's the crowd who say we already get more sunlight than the east, so we don't need daylight saving. Well, I say balls to that theory. Maybe we get more at 4.30am when it's about as much use as TOAB.

So I guess the question is, are you with me, or are you de-linting the woollen cardy and sharpening up the chopticks for a small night out with the zombie brigade?

Yes, or no?