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A little bubby post to get back in the swing of things, while The ‘Pie settles into a routine of self-nursing, steam masks and inter alia learning to swallow without the aid of air. As you may imagine, the old bird has been somewhat out of the loop so will restrict himself this week to just a few matters that caught his eye, so straight into it.
The Trumpet Versus The Strumpet
What a choice! The onanistic Donald Trump or the shining insincerity of the The Clint! As if The ‘Pie didn’t have enough to keep him awake at night, the thought of Trump with the nuclear codes will nullify any amount of temazepan. On the other hand, Hillary Clinton was an integral part of two of the most dishonest, money-grubbing and morally bankrupt administrations in recent memory. One supposes it comes down to the American equivalent of the Working Class versus the Smirking Class.
Bentley has been fascinated by the Trump camp’s plagiarism, which for some reason seems to favour previous Democrat incumbents – not that that will always suit the motormouth.
It’s gunna be fun.
Anagram Of The Month
‘Mad Policy’ can be arranged to spell ‘diplomacy’, which really surprised at least one person..
Queensland Labor’s Cunning Plan
Now cut The ‘Pie a bit of slack here, but did he hear aright in the recent state parliamentary hearings that the much-vaunted Brisbane Cross River Rail link had an unexpected budgetary problem … the government hadn’t factored into the $5.4 billion project the … wait for it … the cost of the required new trains? Or their maintenance. That minor ‘oversight’ has the potential to blow the lolly bag apart to the tune of nearly $15billion!
But on reflection, what a clever political ploy, and we can expect more of the same ….. like a new Townsville stadium, but with no seats or entrance gates.
If this fiscal finangling catches on, the sky’s the limit. Hell’s Gate Dam? No probs, just build half the wall … the left-hand half, that is. And that rail link to the Townsville port … let’s make that a monorail to start with, just one gleaming line of steel … the other one can be added by a later government (which one imagines won’t be too far away).
This last one is straight out of the Captain Snooze Reynolds/ Craig Cuddelpie Wallace Financial Playbook that was used on the ‘motorway’ (ha!) ring road … build two of the four lanes first … which basically made it a street … and add the other two some years later at roughly double the cost of original two.
Funny Old Place, Townsville
… as in rum rather than fun. Labor’s The Tool may well have got enough votes from this electorate to fall over the line and struggle up onto the caboose of the gravy train (maybe not, but let’s suppose).
Cathy O’Toole
Now Cathy O’Toole on the question of refugees is at odds with federal Labor’s official line and favours an open slather approach. But the temptation of taxpayer-funded riches made her fall in line behind The Short Un, which makes her a shining example of Samuel Butler’s insight of three century’s ago when he said:
He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still
Which he may adhere to, yet disown,
For reasons to himself best known
Yet these are the same voters that gave Pauline Hanson a 14% nod of approval for the Senate. That’s a significant chunk for the Big Red Stirrer. In that childish American saying, go figure.
What Was That Creaking Noise You heard?
The ‘Pie hears that superannuated political coprolite Mike Captain Snooze Reynolds bestirred himself in the final week of the campaign
The Astonisher reported that sister-in-law Cathy O’Toole had cast doubt on the Shorten Mediscare campaign, which sent Snooze ballistic, because he believed The Tool had been misrepresented by the paper. For once, the paper, which had formally endorsed Ewen Jones, got it right. From what The ‘Pie hears, he was thermonuclear in a phone call to iditor Ben ‘Bogan’ English, but that midjudgement and typical bit of self-aggrandizment got Snooze nowhere fast. And a big blunder if there’s a re-run.
A small incident in a campaign that showed the paucity of potential political talent in Townsville, which is why folk like Colin Dwyer looked like a shining beacon of the future. (An illusion of course, because the Astonisher’s economic pet poodle and Kattertonic campaigner only shone by comparison.)
Beauty And The Beast.
So, Tully’s tasty Madeline Cowe is into the final of the Miss World Australia title.
Madeline Cowe
Could it be – a Cowe to represent Australia in a beauty pageant? She’ll be a shoo-in – err, maybe a moo-in – if Barnaby Joyce is on the judging panel.
But this is no bovine breakthrough … remember, the epitome of British womanhood 50 years a go was a silly old moo.
Dandy Nichols aka Mrs Alf Garnett.
Let’s End With A Dose Of Reality (TV, That Is).
All these misnomered TV shows … Farmer Wants A Wife (should be Farmer Tired Of Sheep), or Masterchef (should be Watch A Bloke Who looks Like A Terrorist, An Insurance Salesman and A Blubber Lipped Oiler Who Looks Like Pedo In A Cravat Pig Out) don’t really bear too much resemblance to reality.
Then there’s The Bachelorette (should be Trollops Who’ll Do Anything To Get On Telly). The closest this show comes to reality is the off-cuts we never see, like this one.
Bit more next week, but keep those comments coming. And a sincere thank you to the dozens of folk who send their best wishes to me. … your support has helped me immensely.
