I have arse pimples older than Jarrod Bleijie and I suspect the two weeks they sat festering on the hard wooden benches of UQ law school might make them better qualified to be the state's senior law officer than our current Attorney-General.

Of all the dodgy appointments, bad decisions, and half-arsed ill-conceived soon-to-be-embarrassing oh-no-what-were-we-thinking moments that Commandant Can-do has come up with, few could challenge anointing Jarrod Bleijie as the first law officer of the state.

Here comes Jarrod with advice that the government absolutely has to give itself a big pay raise because not to do so would be illegal. Now watch Jarrod as he reviews the Crime and Misconduct Commission, for investigating the various crimes and misconduct of his LNP colleagues. Thrill to Jarrod rolling back gay civil unions. And laugh along with jolly Jarrod as he maintains a poker face and insists there are no rapes in Queensland jails. (Lucky thing too, because then they’d have to get gay married, and we can’t have that.)

Of all Jarrod Bleijie’s misadventures however, the last couple of weeks’ witless hysteria over outlaw motorcycle clubs is the most LOL-worthy. Just when you think he’s taken as much piss as a man can reasonably take by throwing a whole bunch of unconstitutional statutes onto the law books just to see what sticks, he'll jam in the catheter that little bit deeper and draw out a last few drops. Dressing bikies in pink jumpsuits when you lock them away forever for being, er, bikies? Hmm, I'll take a double serve thanks Mr Attorney General.

Sweeping aside centuries of precedent that you punish people for what do, not what they are, unless they’re gay, of course, Bleijie seems to have got himself into a position where the only response to one bad decision is to pile on a whole bunch more.

As much fun as it was contemplating the state government’s Nerdlinger General muscling up to Odin’s Warriors, or the Scorpions who don’t seem to exist, or the Renegades, a club consisting of one old fat bloke who’s already in jail, there does come a moment when you have to ask yourself whether the lulz are worth the damage to the fabric of civil society.

And that moment arguably arrives when the police start hassling people for wearing Sons of Anarchy T-shirts because the rozzers can’t tell the difference between a cable TV show and a clear and present to all Jarrod Bleijie holds dear.

Because by the time the precedent has been established that connections between citizens rather than their actions can be outlawed it’s too late. Bikies today. The rest of us who don’t meet Jarrod Bleijie’s sponge-worthy checklist of tomorrow.