I guess if Julie Bishop won’t be my neo-con sex kitten, I’ll have to settle for Bill Maher’s Neo-Con Dating Service.
Weekly Poll: Still to come
OK, I normally do the Weekly Poll on the weekend. But I’ve been so distracted by Julie Bishop that I’ll leave the current poll online for another day.
Julie, I want to make you a star (in a Samantha Fox kind of way)
Julie… Julie Bishop, they just don’t appreciate you. I know they make fun of you on Facebook. But I think you’re a neo-con sex kitten.
And you know, when I linked to Samantha Fox singing Touch Me last week, that was just to make a joke about Andrew P Street. That was just me trying to be clever. I realise now that was so immature. Andrew means nothing to me. I’ve realised the truth — you’re as sexy as Samantha Fox ever was!
Julie… Julie Bishop, I don’t ever want anyone except you. Samantha Fox is just a cheap slut. Those lyrics… I can’t hear them now without thinking of you!
Like a tramp in the night
I was begging you
To treat my body like you wanted to
Those left-wing bastards at Crikey just make fun of you too. Unforgiveable! You have to meet George W Bush this week, you have to look your best, and they said:
New tie for Alexander Downer we expect! Julie Bishop combs her Safeway for the required 15 cans of Cedel.
Julie, they just don’t appreciate your beauty like I do. I know I write for Crikey sometimes but that doesn’t mean I share their narrow views.
Julie, will you be my neo-con sex kitten? Please?
A Night of Politics: grubby, grubby…
The entire evening was filled with politics yesterday and the chafing this morning is quite painful and I learned a lot.
Christian Kerr, the national affairs editor for Crikey, was promoting his book “in conversation with” Antony Green, the thinking woman’s crumpet — a combination too good to miss! We went for dinner afterwards.
I didn’t realise I’ve actually met Christian before, until he saw me. “I know you,” he said. “You were the first person to play me I Like It Both Ways with Shaun Micaleff at 5UV.” I have no recollection of this event, Your Honour. However Christian recalled sufficient details for me to be convinced the event probably did happen. Somewhere. He knew certain obscure hand gestures. Stop asking questions.
In a preview of the federal election and subsequent conversation I learned:
- Christian thinks that the election won’t be fought over industrial relations, as many pundits are saying, but over the economy. It’ll be about the Howard government’s “sound economic management” (as they describe it) versus the It’s Time factor.
- Unless something changes, it will be a Labor victory. For all the talk of “the polls are all over the place,” Antony Green says this is the most consistent series of polls he’s ever seen.
- There is a Big Yabby in Alexander Downer‘s electorate, at Goolwa, which is symbolic somehow.
- Malcolm Turnbull could still win the federal seat of Wentworth thanks to his Fabulousness Factor.
- No-one seems to understand why John Howard won’t support gay-related issues. And I’ve just finished reading his biography — nothing there gives a clue either.
- Mattresses.
- Iguanadons.
Now where’s that moisturiser…?
“Touch me, Margaret Thatcher!”
In early voting, Margaret Thatcher is emerging as the erotic favourite to sing Touch Me at 36% ahead of Julie Bishop and Natasha Stott-Despoja tied on 18%. I’m guessing that’s because my non-Australian readers don’t known who the others are. Perhaps I should have included Madeleine Allbright, Golda Mier, Hillary Rodham Clinton and Queen Elizabeth II.
Weekly Poll: Who should sing…?
Andrew P Street is a genius. I say that because (a) he is, (b) knowing Andrew is one of the three vital components for understanding the full subtlety of this week’s poll, and (c) I dare not upset him by failing to acknowledge his enormous throbbing brain.
Last night ’Pong and I went to the Excelsior Hotel in Glebe. Their website is slick and glossy — but the web designer has clearly never set foot in the establishment because the Excelsior is what we in the business call a “dive”. Or, as the Macquarie Dictionary puts it, “a disreputable place, as for drinking, gambling, etc.”
I wish to report that the Excelsior is well-equipped for drinking, and we made ample use of its facilities.
Andrew P Street is, I believe, also well-equipped for drinking, being in possession of hands, mouth, gullet etc. He also has a guitar, and his mouth is so arranged that red wine may flow inwards while, at other moments, song flows outwards.