Brian Rogers Rogers Rabbits www.sunlive.co.nz

A few of you are still quite concerned about the Government's spies and the new potential they may have to monitor you.
I can imagine this must be quite disconcerting – if you are a treacherous, treasonous terrorist.
If not, I can't see the problem. If you've got nothing to hide, why would you possibly have a problem with being spied on?
A couple of letter writers to the Sun, in recent times have been squirming about the prospect of spies watching over them. We can only conclude they have something to hide and I'd recommend the GCSB flick back through the Sun files and make a note of these insurgents, worthy of closer investigation. Ironically, it's those who protest the most about the intrusion into their supposedly scintillating private lives that could become the very focus of the spies!
Do the maths. There are four million of us, versus a handful of spies. They can't possibly be watching or listening to all of us at once. Besides, most spies are more concerned about keeping tabs on their briefcases containing pornography and cold pies.*
If you are an average, law-abiding Kiwi – and not plotting any treason, terrorism, or general subversiveness – you are not going to be of the slightest interest to the GCSB. In fact, the lives of most of us would bore any spy to serious self-harm within minutes.
Make it easy.
So just in case the GCSB is thinking of monitoring the Rabbit for signs of treachery, we've decided to make it easy for them, by publishing the most interesting excerpts of deeply personal conversations from within the RR headquarters, to save one spy the job of bugging us, so they can get on with eating the pies and reading the interesting articles.* The first in the series is this deeply controversial and subversive tale of a trip to the chiropractor.
Back to the future
The Rabbit has embarked on a physical rejuvenation project this month, in an effort to turn back the clock on ageing, general deterioration and years of bodily abuse.
Spotting an ad in the Sun last week from Oceanside Chiropractic, I made an appointment and went along to see if they could help with a few odd ailments. Too many years of sport, falling off surf boards and a variety of floating objects; years spent hurtling down rivers, often upside down – before Bill Ross and Barry Anderson showed me ye olde Eskimo roll, which I found improved the ride for head, neck and spine – and by staying upright, also improved the scenic attributes of river travel.
Remarkably, it seems, there is some hope. The nice people at the chiropractic place reckon they can fix years of abuse. I was very impressed with the service and professionalism, as they gave me a thorough check over. There was some wear and tear of various bits and bones, which they sounded pretty confident could be treated; although there was little hope for the funny bone, which seemed to have worn pretty thin.

After filling out a form with important information on it, (including asking whether there was a chance I was pregnant, which I believe is fairly low but I'll keep trying), I was given a map of the body and asked to mark the parts which were giving trouble. The diagram ended up looking like a noughts and crosses board. They were a bit puzzled about the circle off to one side of the page. I explained this was pain that came out of left field.
Then I was sat in front of a screen to watch a video, explaining how chiropractic practices practise. (When they've finished practising, they do it for real). Next to the desk was a skeleton. I agreed to watch the film for a while, but not as long as that guy.
Then we discussed diet and weight, the spine guy didn't have much to say. I guess he's taken the whole diet idea a bit too far.
The chiropractor listened, but omitted to congratulate me on managing to stave off anorexia for another year. Despite this minor setback, I still feel motivated to fight back against starvation at every possible chance.
Next up were x-rays, to check if bones still exist under the winter blubber layers and assess their condition.
Then it was time for the treatment, or ‘adjustment', which was quick and easy and produced almost instant, remarkable results. I wish I'd been to the chiropractor a year ago.
The neck pain has virtually disappeared and the headaches gone. Although, I still hear the voices.
Spies, pies, penthouses
*The SIS became the laughing stock of the nation in 1981 when a spy inadvertently left a briefcase, containing a copy of Penthouse, three cold meat pies, and notes of a dinner party hosted by a German diplomat, on a journalist's fence in Wellington.