Outrage Sunday 40 the scream

I’m not sure why this outrages me so much. I will think it through. It’s not as outraging as Matthew Broderick’s sellout. Only Dame Edna can appropriate Munch. But when Barry Humphries does ads he is not selling out. FBDO is bigger than one person. Clear? Maybe this was Gina Rinehart’s idea.

This also outraging: the Morley markets look strangely similar to the good Doctor’s last book. Surely a market would be better off looking more like Sendak?

Let me finish with something sure to enrage the Flangemaster. Seen in Nedlands, and not worst! Good advice for all in these troubled Gina-embiggened times.

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16 Responses to Outrage Sunday 40 the scream

  1. The Legend 101 says:

    Coverntry Markets is a litte silly, they already have Galleria!


  2. My Ning says:

    The latest entry in the secret diary of Mark McGowan (aged nearly 45)

    Boy am I tired. Been up since 6.30am today, having just taken on the arduous responsibility of being leader of the WA Labor Party from Eric Ripper. In fact it’s been nothing but early mornings since I was elected unopposed by my shadow cabinet mates. Yesterday I managed to sleep in until 7am – would’ve have made it until 7.15, but Sarah (my missus) told me I had just received another of those clandesdine emails from Brian Burke (or Voldermort, as we like to joke at the office). Apparently he and Julie want to get get involved in some land deal on the Rockingham foreshore and he wants to know what my former councillor buddies would think. Problem is the memories of those days are a little vague at the moment. I do, however, remember being tired all of the time, having to sit through endless town planning committee meetings. It was almost as bad as being opposition spokesman for local government back in the mid 1990s. Boy, that was pretty tiring too, although I did manage to get some 9am sleep ins before slogging it off to work.

    Having said all this, I never realised that being oposition leader could be so tiring. The Ripster never looked this drowsy during his stint at the top, although I must admit I found his bland excuse making and protruding teeth a little tiring at times.

    The other thing that’s wearing me down about this job is the media attention. I mean really, what do these guys want? In the space of a day I managed not only to reverse our position on Sunday trading, but also capitualted to the uranium miners. Hell, I sounded more Barnettish than the Barnster himself, yet these dickwads from the press are still getting stuck into me.

    While on this subject, I must say the biggest blow was when they put a pic of our Rockingham house on the web. Sure, it’s not the flashest of addresses – indeed sometimes I worry that my new found image (which has been helped enormously by those neat specs that make me look like an intellectual) is somehow being tarnished by the intellectual swill I represent – but really, why are the newspaper guys picking on me?

    Jeezus – Barnett’s first house (somewhere in Vic Park or Lathlain, I seem to recall) didn’t get into the newspaper until he had been premier for a few years. What have I done to deserve such scorn and ridicule? Does this mean I will eventually have to move house? If so, will the party suggest I do a Reece Whitby and run for a seat I don’t live in? It’s possible, but it sounds very tiring.

    And what the hell has this Brian Pontifex fellow got against me? Sure, I didn’t go to fucking Narrogin Senior High School (although one of my heros, Stephen Smith, was born in that rat’s arse of a town), nor was I one of my school’s biggest suck holes. I also doubt the pedigree of my law degree could get me a job doing PR for an oil company. But for him to say that I was drinking at the Subi Hotel was outrageous. I have a constituency to consider. What would my fellow Rockinghamites say if they thought I was hanging out with other intellectual types (that look like me) in Rockeby Road. Jeez – next some Liberal prick will say I’m patronising the Regal, when in fact for the past few years I’ve been a true blue Greater Union man.

    Oh well, onto Voldemort’s email. I’m sure the local council will think it’ll all be okay – hell, ‘ol Burkie may even bring in Norm Malborogh to handle any damage control. I’m sure Pontifex will be no match for that cunning bastard. And of course, more business will mean another great restaurant review from the corpulent Broadbent.

    Of course, the whole affair may require my own deft local government skills. After all, we don’t really want to see counsellors resigning in disgust like those lilly-livered weak pricks in Busselton.

    It’s now 7.15am and the start of a new day as WA’s next premier. Thank goodness there’s still some time to hit the snooze button. After all, I’m still feeling kinda tired.


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