We’re not a political party—just locals who’ve had enough of delays and double-talk. Maybe there’s a pinch of politics (the fun kind), but mostly it’s action, satire, and good old-fashioned community spirit. We fix what we can, call out the absurd, and enjoy the ride. No bureaucracy. No corporate jargon. Just Eastbourne, taking matters into its own hooves.
For the full MEGA experience, visit our website on a PC, laptop, or tablet.
Yes- MEGA's Mascot is 'Captain Cooker' - Thanks to Barry Girvan who won our recent naming competition.
Each month we will explore the Cooker Ancestry over the Centuries.
The fiery, world renowned maestro of the kitchen with a taste for bold flavors and bigger opinions. Each month, Chef Ramswine brings you an exclusive recipe straight from his cutting board to your table. Expect no-nonsense instructions, unforgettable dishes, and a dash of culinary chaos.
Welcome to Ramswine’s First Monthly Recipe, where the heat is always on!
"Bushfire Chop with Smoked Apple & Kawakawa"
The newly installed concrete edging along Eastbourne’s shared pathway and cycleway — quickly dubbed “Dragon’s Teeth” by locals
— is already raising eyebrows and blood pressure.
In a move that seems more fantasy than functional, Hutt City Council has lined the seaward edge of the road with a continuous row of raised concrete blocks. While they may deter wayward cyclists from veering into the sea, they also prevent any vehicle from pulling off the road in case of a flat tyre, mechanical issue, or sudden emergency.
In other words: if your car breaks down, or you need a first responder - congratulations — you’re now in an immovable traffic hazard.
It’s a design that prioritises form over function, safety theatre over actual safety. And when challenged, the response from Council has been as solid and unyielding as the concrete blocks themselves.
Locals are calling it a textbook case of "fixing what wasn’t broken" — unless, of course, your car is broken, in which case you're out of luck.
No shoulder. No pull-off. No plan B. The only thing sharp here? The criticism.
MEGA News | 21 May 2025
The tide has turned—at least for a vocal group of locals who today picketed outside Hutt City Council, brandishing placards, thermoses, and what appeared to be a giant papier-mâché pokie machine.
Their beef? The soon-to-rise Pukatea Sands development, which they claim will “corrupt the elderly,” “inflate the already inflated,” and “invite yachts full of mysterious foreigners.”
“Casinos are a gateway drug to jazz music and loose morals,” claimed one protester, waving a sign that read “DON’T ROULETTE RUIN RETIREMENT.” Another held a handmade banner that simply said “NO TO BRIOCHE!” in what we assume was a stance against fancy pastries.
One particularly animated local decried the risk of Eastbourne being mistaken for “a state housing brochure if we let them build more homes.” Meanwhile, murmurs spread that the new marina might attract boats “not from around here.”
Council officials acknowledged the protest, noting that while public concern is valid, no bylaws currently restrict prosperity, cultural integration, or sourdough bread.
In response, a Pukatea Sands spokesperson offered reassurance: “We believe in a diverse, sustainable, and inclusive community. Also, the croissants will be optional.”
More updates as the drama unfolds—possibly at the café many of the protesters were seen enjoying just after the march.
Pop into Eastbourne Quality Meats in Rimu Street,
say 'Hi' to Brook and his Team and have fun!
(Limited Availability.)
- No Purchase Necessary.
Mike Hogskin: NewSquawkZB
A sharp-tongued snout behind the mic, Mike Hogskin has ruled the New Zealand talkback airwaves for over two decades with equal parts charm, condescension, and bacon-scented arrogance.
Adopted into the Cooker family as a piglet of uncertain origin, Mike forged his own path, swapping farm for frequency and oink for outrage.
Whether he's ranting about cycle lanes, banning baristas, or calling out soft politicians, Mike’s voice is a staple of morning commutes and boiling blood pressure levels nationwide.
Parliament Drops the C-Bomb – When Parliament Swears Like a Tradie - Nation Barely Blinks
History was made this week when Brooke van Velden dropped the C-word in Parliament — not coalition, the spicy one. It’s now officially in Hansard, thanks to a journalist who mistook “commentary” for something scribbled on a truck stop dunny wall.
Brooke even asked the Clerk’s Office first (the rebel), then let it rip in Question Time. The Speaker? Barely looked up — possibly mid-nap.
Frankly, here in NZ we’ve heard worse on talkback, at the rugby, or in line at Kmart. And let’s be honest: calling someone that word is rude... but calling them a “Strategic Framework Document”? Way worse.
We at MEGA say: Language evolves. Once upon a time, “dick” was scandalous. Now it’s a minor grievance. “Karen” was once just a lady who made lovely slices. Now it’s a meme. So why not the C-word?
Sow & Piglets: A Portrait of Selective Sympathy
Here we have it — the classic media tableau: the noble sow in a shawl, stoically sheltering her three denim-clad darlings. The caption might as well write itself: “Think of the women and children.” And we do. Endlessly. Repeatedly. Every war, every flood, every trending disaster — it’s always the “women and children” in the headlines, the press releases, the teary fundraisers.
But what about the boars? You know — the dads, brothers, grandads, uncles, sons, cousins, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, the guy who fixed the fence? Where are their stories? Their portraits? Their soft lighting and carefully curated sorrow? Do they not die, bleed, scream, and quietly evaporate into unmarked ditches too?
At MEGA, we’re not saying women and children don’t suffer. Of course they do. Just look at this image — heartbreaking, noble, denim-heavy. But somewhere out there, there's a terrified, underrepresented boar crawling through barbed wire, clutching a half-eaten turnip, wondering why no one put him on a billboard.
Let’s be honest: tragedy marketing has a type — and it’s not tusked and testicled.
A MEGA Perspective on Organ Donations, Bacon, and Biotech.
Hey, what if we told you pigs are no longer just for bacon, sausages, and novelty calendars? That’s right — the porcine world has officially entered the transplant game, and it's getting under our skin. Literally.
In 2024, the yanks at Massachusetts General Hospital said “why not” and plonked a genetically edited pig kidney into a human. And guess what? It worked. For a while. Then another one in New York gave a dialysis patient their first break in years. Now pigs aren’t just the other white meat — they’re lifesaving biotech bundles on hooves.
Of course, this opens up all sorts of philosophical pork holes:
Can you still call yourself vegan if your liver’s from Larry the Loin Chop?
If you get a pig’s heart, do you owe it a Mother's Day card?
Will future meat trays come with donor cards?
And what about the pigs? One day you're rooting in the mud, next you're a dual citizen with a passport to a human torso. It's noble. It's tragic. It's peak capitalism.
Trixie Snoutley: Music, Music, other stuff.
Trixie is the unstoppable movie and music reporter for Mega Mouthpiece, delivering nationwide entertainment coverage with high-volume style and a sharp-tongued twist.
Equal parts critic, chaos agent, and cultural commentator, she’s known for crashing premieres, mispronouncing celebrity names with flair, and asking the questions no one else dares—mostly because they’re wildly inappropriate.
Dressed in a rotation of slogan tees and leather jackets, armed with her trusty rhinestone mic, Trixie dives headfirst into the absurdity of the entertainment world, skewering bad cinema, celebrating pop genius, and sniffing out scandal like it’s her superpower.
With a love of drama (on and off screen) and a firm belief that subtlety is for interns, she’s here to make arts journalism a lot louder, weirder, and far more entertaining.
Mistakes MAGA for MEGA, Wrecks Both
Well butter my bacon — Bruce Springsteen just stormed the stage in Manchester and delivered a tirade so fiery it could’ve singed a pork bun.
Midway through Born to Run, The Boss dropped his guitar like a hot meat pie and launched into a speech about treason, billionaires, civil rights, and “the rise of authoritarianism” — which, to be fair, isn’t not the vibe at a city council meeting in Lower Hutt.
But here’s the kicker: in his impassioned fury, Bruce clearly meant to blast MAGA — but let’s just say his Jersey vowels got lazy.
Result? Half the crowd thought he was declaring war on MEGA.
I nearly dropped my mic. We're here promoting democracy with pig mascots and public satire, not plotting the downfall of brunch.
Trixie’s Take:
• He called Trump “treasonous.” I call that Tuesday.
• Someone shouted, “Stick to the hits!” Bruce shouted back, “Stick to the Constitution!”
• The E Street Band looked like they were Googling asylum countries mid-guitar solo.
Is Joy Next on the Chopping Block?
Crikey. The Aussies have done it — banned under-16s from social media. No TikTok, no Insta, no Snap. Just YouTube, because nothing says “healthy development” like ten hours of hamster mazes and flat-earth documentaries.
Now Prime Minister Luxon is frothing at the mouth, waving the Aussie ban around like a Bledisloe Cup. He says the phone ban in schools worked, so why not block the whole internet while we’re at it?
MEGA says: pull the plug on this nonsense, not the Wi-Fi.
Sure, social media has its flaws — dodgy content, weird algorithms, and that one uncle who overshares conspiracy memes. But it’s also where teens connect, express themselves, discover activism, and post cat videos with ironic captions. Let’s not throw out the phone with the bathwater.
Fun fact: most of the trolling, misinformation, and unsolicited DMs come from adults. If we’re banning teens for safety, should we also ban school cafeterias, sports coaches, and group assignments?
Here’s a wild idea:
Regulate the tech companies.
Teach digital smarts.
Actually listen to young people instead of treating them like malfunctioning Tamagotchis.
At MEGA, we say let teens scroll, snap, and overshare to their hearts’ content. Because forcing them offline won’t make them smarter — just more likely to take up poetry. And nobody wants that.
PREVIEW/REVIEW: Silence of the Hams
By The MEGA Mouthpiece Team – Because Swine Deserve Cinema Too
Buckle up your bacon belts, cinephiles – Silence of the Hams is oinking its way to a screen near you, and it’s more twisted than a curly tail at a piglet disco.
In this bold, ham-fisted parody of psychological thrillers, we meet the disturbingly dapper Sir Squeal-a-Lot, a genius-level cannibal pig with a taste for the arts... and possibly his art critics. Opposite him is Agent Fluffster, a wide-eyed rookie from the FBI Petcademy, determined to prove her chops in a world crawling with serial snackers.
Visually lush (think Hannibal meets Charlotte’s Web on ketamine), the film is packed with pork-barrel politics, suspenseful sausage chases, and just enough twisted charm to make your inner carnivore feel conflicted.
The dialogue sizzles, the suspense simmers, and somewhere between the troughs of terror and the crescendos of comedy, you’ll find yourself whispering: “It rubs the truffle oil on its skin...”
Is it high art? No.
Is it ham art? Absolutely.
Coming soon to a Sty-nah-rama near you.
CLICK ON BUTTON BELOW TO SEE TRAILER!
Tired of tofu-thumping tattletales and sand-sifting sanctimony? MEGA is launching a full-throttle search for our very own Clarkson of the Coast – someone who’s not afraid to get muddy, call out the compost conspiracies, and plant the seeds of truth (preferably while on a tractor, shirt half open, muttering about council bylaws).
For too long, Eastbourne has been ruled by clipboard-wielding eco-zealots who lose sleep over seagull droppings and have strong opinions about flax orientation. We say: bring on the chaos gardener. The diesel dreamer. The dog-loving dirt-stirrer who’ll put the "cult" back in “horticulture.”
Think you’ve got what it takes to drive a ute through the bureaucracy and sow a little common sense? Apply now.
Bonus points if you can reverse a trailer and survive a community board meeting without herbal tea.
Eurovision gives us wind machines, glitter warfare and nations voting politically through jazz. Why can’t Eastbourne have something similar — but messier, more local, and with slightly more beige knitwear?
MEGA proposes “Eastbourne Unplugged” — a coastal song contest where each bay sends its best (or most available) musical act to battle it out in front of an over-lubricated crowd. Whether it’s a synth solo from Sunshine Bay, an angry folk duo from York Bay, or a pensioner rap battle from Point Howard, we deserve our own musical mayhem. No backing tracks. No auto-tune. No exit strategy. Just talent, wine, and high-stakes voting tension. We’ve got the ESSC, a mic, and access to fairy lights. That’s enough. Who’s in? Who’s hosting? And how do we make sure Eastbourne votes for itself? Next Month we will be asking you to send in our song lyrics.
M.E.G.A. is launching an international charm offensive – and no, it’s not just another council distraction. We’re searching for Eastbourne’s official sister city. But we don’t want some dull, bureaucratically approved twin. We want edge. We want a partner in civic satire.
Top contenders so far?
Eastbourne, UK – The obvious choice. Let’s turn it into a “Battle of the Bournes” with an annual competition to prove which town reigns supreme.
Dull, Scotland – Already paired with Boring, Oregon, but still room for a third in that gloriously tedious menage à trois.
Hell, Michigan – Because Eastbourne’s been through enough to relate. “From Hell to Eastbourne” has a ring to it.
Nowhere, Oklahoma – Sounds about right. “Eastbourne: Not Quite Nowhere, But Close.”
Got a better idea? Know a town that’s mad, magnificent, or just mildly confused? Send us your nominations. It's time Eastbourne got a sibling worth talking about.
MEGA News | May 2025
Campbell Barry finally exits stage left. Tui Lewis pops up again, still convinced it’s her time. Bruce quietly slides back onto the Community Board like he never left. But the real mystery? Who else is coming out of the woodwork?
Whispers of MEGA candidates echo through the gullies—though so far, it’s just binoculars and bush cover. As the usual faces line up for another go, the real question is: will anyone truly new appear, or is Eastbourne in for another round of déjà vu with extra road cones?
If you are planning to run.....let us know.
MEGA is a platform to tell your story, your policies, dreams, fantasies (and we're nosey)
Candidates Step Up! Everyone Else Pay Attention and VOTE. It Matters!
Well done,
Team Eastbourne!
Big MEGA kudos to our local heroes from the Eastbourne Volunteer Fire Brigade, taking on the Sky Tower challenge in full firefighting gear — all to raise funds and awareness for Leukaemia & Blood Cancer New Zealand.
Climbing for a cause, sweating for a cure. We’re proud of every step you take.
Why not all 4?
English, Māori, Sign… and Piggish. If the council can speak fluent delay, we can grunt in fluent satire. Inclusivity never sounded so good.
Empty Chairs at
Empty Desks
Eastbourne’s main street is packed with real estate signs, but where are the agents?
Half the offices look abandoned, and the rest are just playing musical chairs with logos.
Are they selling homes or just renting windows?
Where Are You?
MEGA in the hunt for more local news, interesting events, people who need a 'well done' mention, plots to uncover and good old fashioned gossip.
Drop us a note below.
Eastbourne:
All Brunch, No Bite?
We’ve got more cafes than seagulls, but where are the top restaurants? It’s time Eastbourne served more than smashed avo and flat whites. MEGA’s hungry for fine dining — not just another cabinet quiche.
Be A New Winner!
Last Month our competition winner got a mountain of pork and a donation to charity.
Next month we have a NEW Challenge.
Hint: It could contain a "WET T-Shirt"
Welcome.
Moana Café & Bar
Days Bay’s Seaside Gem
Where the waves meet your flat white and the view comes with a side of serenity.
Whether you’re brunching with a view or toasting the sunset, this place proves Eastbourne doesn’t just do beautiful — it does delicious.
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