The answer to the question “Do this flag make may bum look big?” is of course “No, but you do look a complete arse.” However you probably shouldn’t say this as it’s a bit insensitive and possibly unAustralian.
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Bit of a nod to Bruce Petty with this one, but it seemed appropriate. Stocking up on burnt umber for drawing the “after” image as well.
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There are quite a few important things the government could be talking about right now. Big Joe Hockey’s idea that our entitlements could use a bit of pruning is worth a serious look (though naturally nobody’s all that keen on the details), there’s a carbon tax or something about to be introduced, the health system could definitely use some non-cosmetic surgery, exactly what job we will have done in Afghanistan when we triumphantly withdraw is an interesting question, etcetera ad infinitum.
However, let’s face it, it’s all going to be about the Speaker. Perhaps rather than stepping aside, he could just change his job title to “ringmaster”.
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I’ve mentioned before that I really couldn’t see the case for Kev getting the arse back then and I can’t really see it now for Julia. I was of course making the rookie mistake of assuming there has to be a good reason for this stuff.
It seems to me, one of Julia’s main problems was in fact the sheer efficiency of her installation as PM. Most of us mugs never saw it coming and there has been a lingering doubt as to whether it was really quite the done thing. Kevin on the other hand has taken the more traditional approach, with the drawn out non-war, phoney protestations that there’s nothing to see here, judicious leaking to the media and so on etc, though he has taken it to extremes somewhat.
At least this time we’ll hopefully see a proper bloodbath and everyone will be able to get on with their lives afterwards.
A lot has been said about Kyle Sandilands and rather than add too much to the pile, I’m going to put a thought out there. It’s not a pleasant one, so I’ve put down my latte and I suggest you follow suit because it’s a choking hazard: there are people who quite like listening to shock jocks.
If you’re reading this blog and it’s not for the purposes hunting me down, then you probably aren’t one of these people and I salute you for it, but clearly there is money in being an unpleasant person in public, and as a professional stirrer myself (though I like to think a more stylish and refined one) I discreetly dips me lid to the guy for fulfilling his brief so comprehensively.
There’s the usual reverse backlash about sneering elitists feeling superior to Kyle and his listeners, but in some respects this sort of stuff democratises elitism by lowering the bar so much that pretty much anybody can feel superior if they so wish. So sneer away, I say. Consider it shock-jockery’s contribution to a fairer and more democratic society.
The trouble with modernising a monarchy is that if you go too far, you no longer have a monarchy.
Sure, the British monarchy is probably the monarchy we had to have, but it really is time to grow up and move on.
Oh come on, we all know he’s thinking about it.
Politics aside, if I was paying my dues for the HSU, I would be a bit narky about them being used for renting hookers unless a nurse’s uniform were somehow involved, which I suppose isn’t out of the question.
In this post-privacy world where nobody knows you’re really quite a nice person when you’re not on the internet, there’s a bit of a stink in Sydney about police being able to order removal of any face coverings, including veils, helmets and hoodies to establish if you are who you say you are.
Now this doesn’t seem to be an entirely unreasonable, but mix Sydney traffic with a sensitive issue like religion (or pretty much anything come to think of it) and there’s bound to be some angst involved.
Sometimes the devil sends whisky to lead us into temptation. Then he makes it a double, then he just keeps them coming until you’re completely full of the holy spirit and drive into a parked car with a blood alcohol reading of .206.
But lo! and possibly verily! US evangelist Jason Hooper and faith healer got off without a fine or jail, which proves that miracles do happen. No doubt he’ll be laying hands on the car he crashed into later on, saving a fortune at the panel beater.
In hindsight, one of Julia’s biggest mistakes was in dispatching Kevin with such terrifying efficiency. Firstly, it set somewhat unrealistically high expectations of her capacity to get the job done, and secondly it left Kevin floating around the place like a slightly bemused ghost who’s not quite sure what just happened.
Anyway, while last year there wasn’t much time for the traditional drawn-out leadership tensions we’ve come to expect and enjoy (taken to farcical extremes by Peter Costello in the previous decade), it’s pretty much inevitable that there’s going to be a little bit of chat about it on the anniversary of Kevin’s demise as PM, if only to get it out of everyone’s systems.
It seems inconceivable that the ALP could possibly contemplate unscrambling the egg, much less putting Kevin back together. My pet theory is that the whole crazy episode was precipitated by most of the Labor Party being driven completely insane from sleep deprivation caused by trying to keep up with Kevin’s 24/7 work schedule and while the polls will probably be keeping most of them up at night, I can’t quite see that level of madness creeping in again.
But hey, at least it makes a change from talking about climate change and refugees.
…and you thought the Oceanic Viking was awkward. The tantalising prospect of humane slaughter would be the ultimate pull-factor for those queue-jumping illegal cow immigrants. Ban live cattle exporting to Indonesia and you just watch the bovine hordes flocking, er, herding to our shores. Stop the cows!
If Kevin were still PM, there is no way he’d have time to create his own blend of tea, which, I am reliably told, will solve climate change, create peace in the Middle East and be the catalyst for the formation of an Asia-Pacific Union that will lead the world into a new age of economic prosperity.
So thanks, Julia. Nothing like a nice cup of tea to sort out the world’s problems.
I still think the whole buried at sea thing was Hollywood leaving the door open for a sequel. Anyway here’s today’s from The Sunday Tele and below is another rough that didn’t find a home because there are only so many cartoons you can get published in a week, but hey, it’s passed its expiry date and I thought it was kind of funny…
I’m just going to come out and say this: while as over-the-top weddings go I heard the other night was to *die* for, I still don’t see how that makes it any less ridiculous that some Pom is our head of state.
I note some eyes bulging ‘neath well-tugged forelocks and I say to you, just keep it to yourself. A monarchy in this day and age is silly. Royally silly. That is all.
Anyway, I did a few cartoons about it, which probably proves that I’m even sillier. Here’s the other one from the Sunday Tele.
In case you were wondering, it’s chocolate. It’s all about the chocolate.
There’s been a bit of chat about Kevin having another crack at being Prime Minister, and while it’s a fair bet that either the chatters, or Kevin (or both) are somewhat delusional, going by the Howard Maxim that the times will eventually suit anyone, it’s either this year or a fair old wait until the next annus rhymus.
Just lucky his first name isn’t “Orange”.