The third in a semi-connected series by John Birmingham.

This one actually contains a plot and coherent (well, mostly) story line instead of a series of share-house vignettes.
The lead character, JB (the author himself) leads a fairly relaxed life living on fish fingers, bong hits and dole checks in a large sharehouse with several strange but like-minded people.

Until they decide to take in another flatmate. The Celine Dion albums, the fluffy hordes of stuffed animals, the story of his life which shifted around under fire: all of these should have set off the threat detectors. Within days, the house is under siege by karate dykes and left holding up a $2000 debt, stolen goods and a string of fraud charges. The household balance is upset, and some seriously bad karma comes knocking on the door with jackboots.

Now they have one week to catch the runaway new guy and avoid the hired goons before the cops, crims, Pauline Hanson, the federal government, their landlord and some very angry lesbians tear their house down and stomp them to jelly.

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