I told you about the Victorian government putting the squeeze on the Tote. Blasted fools! What a way to treat a good pub!
Anyhow, I’ve made myself a bit vocal about the local.
(You can hear one of my quieter tirades here)
Somebody has to stand up for the Tote!
It’s not just a place for young people, you know, and it’s not just about the music that’s been part of Melbourne for so long either.
It’s about high-handed bureaucrats sitting at their dinky little desks with pencils behind their dinky little ears searching for ways to wring out every last drop of blood from liquor licenses across the city.
Anyone would think the government was broke for crissake.
It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if a big club consortium from the nasty end of town rolled up to take over the license from the Tote. I wonder about our Premier too. Not that I’m inferring Brumby gets kickbacks from the King St Cosa Nostra, I merely make a slight insinuation, you must forgive my verbal wanderings. I’m getting on after all.
Sometimes when I add up his (alleged) directorships on overseas companies and bits and pieces of that nature, my dredging up of two and two adds to five. Or maybe it is four. You better ask the Premier yourself.
I think I’m wandering again. I set out today to tell you that the Tote has a big message on their wall for me 
They’re such nice people, and so kind to an old lady.