Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Red, Red Whine

It was a great day for smart ‘ranga chicks.

Julia showed everyone didn’t she? That you could be a Deputy for a bit and then stab your boss in the back and … well… become Prime Minister. Just like that.

There’s plenty of conjecture of course. Should she? Shouldn’t she? Can she? Will she? Who the hell IS she? The whole nation started whining. Fair suck of the sav! What’s happened to democracy? Facebook was filled with nothing else but Julia. I myself promised to bake pointy-nosed gingerbread women dressed in pinstripes. It’s the least I could do.

Up until now all we’ve known is that she likes to win. Fair enough. Don’t we all? And really, she did it the easy way. No election for our girly. Bugger that for a joke. And why not? It’s kind of like skipping the queue at Myer on Boxing Day to get to the on-sale Sheridan sheets. Or being given a gift membership to a box at the Melbourne Cricket Ground. When given half a chance, I’d take the easy road too.

I’m not that fussed that she’s a ‘rangarette. Or a woman. Or smart. There’s plenty of those around and quite frankly, with the state of men in this country I’m surprised we didn’t elect one to the top job before now. I mean really. With names like Kevin and Wayne, how are our blokes taken seriously on a world stage? (“ohhh hi mate.. I mean Barry. Name’s Wayne, you can call me… Swannie.”)

What I am fascinated about is that our Julia… Jool-ya, JOOLS… is… a Bogan.

She likes Chinese takeaway, jeans, leather minis and footy. She don’t shop for those black shoes anywhere posh. My guess? They’re from Target and anyway, she'd probably prefer to wear thongs. But apparently Parliament has a bloody dress-code.  And Jools’ next short-term goal? To find time to go see Sex & the City 2. In between cracking a deal with the mining industry bosses and that carbon emissions thing. Oh and those tricky asylum seekers. What to do? Put them to work cutting out pantsuit patterns? Get them to shell prawns at the Local?

I kinda thought that I’d be the first Bogan chick to lead our great nay-shon.

Blossy for PM! I’m not that keen on the hard work aspect of course, and quite frankly, on the few occasions I’ve watched Question Time in Parliament it’s bored me to distraction. But instead it’s Jools. I’ve read a few articles lately and it appears that Jools has a few Bogan skeletons in her Toyota Corolla. Her partner/lover is a hairdresser (who can knock back a cheap home dye job? I’ve been known myself to pass BtT the Garnier box and tell him to cut sick with it!) Tim cracked onto Jools by ringing the local electoral office and asking her out. Jools’ BFF sees her role as ‘supporting my friend and doing normal stuff with her’. Noice. Maybe they can go see SATC2 together. Get on the red wine in Manuka, dance to Cold Chisel flashbacks and then crash at Julia’s crappy flat. What would it be like to be mates with Tim ‘n’ Jools? Do you reckon they’re the ones that swing past Uncle Dan’s to pick up a bottle of ten dollar Merlot to bring to the Barbie?

I have friends who met Ms Gillard as Education Minister and think that she hasn’t had kids because, well, she doesn’t particularly like them. Reports as to whether Jools puts children in the juicer whole or spreads them with vegemite are still unconfirmed. Maybe Jools won’t have to deal with many kids now that she’s PM. I saw her on the news awkwardly kissing a baby in a local shopping centre and the kids didn’t seem to shrivel upon contact, but then… babies are a bit cuter than a class full of feral public school nine year olds wielding ugly gifts and who still can’t read despite living in the luckiest country in the world. I can kind of understand her  hesistation.

 
Official word is that Jools doesn’t want to move into The Lodge until she’s ‘like…totally elected’.

I reckon the real story is that the nation’s top residence is a bit posh for our Jools. Like moi, the new PM buys her rugs from Bunnings and her wine glasses from Kmart. Having high tea with the Governor General isn’t really Jools’ style so the posh Canberra official homes and all their breakables might be a challenge. And the GG probably wouldn’t serve Tim Tams so what’s the point? (Note to self: check whether the Governor General can get her staff to make a decent extra-hot-skim-chai-latte just in case am ever invited there for arvo tea… I know it’s a long shot, but it's good to be prepared…)

So what to do about the nay-shon’s whining?

If it’s anything like Jools’ first press conference as PM, she’ll just tell us all to shut our cake-holes and ask questions in an orderly fashion. More importantly, what will the Labor Party put on the election shirts this time around? Jules Rules 2010? My dad reckons he doesn't care much for the election ("I'm a bit ambidextrous on that Bloss, don't like either of 'em!")

So let’s see what happens now that Kevin ’07 has been sent to the sin bin. Go hard Jools, you bogan ‘ranga. I don’t think I can handle the alternative, Tony Abbott flaunting around the beach in his budgie smugglers.

My personal bogan message to the new PM? Jools, I dare ya to wear your bulldogs footy scarf in Parliament darl!

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'Red, Red Wine' - Neil Diamond 1968, but more famously UB40 in 1983.

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