Sunday, July 27, 2003

Happy Birthday to ME! 64 today! Only 36 years till I get a letter from the Queen! Well, ok I get letters from the Liz quite often, but for once I'd like to get one that isn't just whinging about Camilla and Tony Blair.

Janette wouldn't let me have a party this year. Last year, the cabinet all came down to Kirribilli, and we had too much red cordial and Fanta and we decided to play Marco Polo in Sydney Harbour and I got a nasty cold. Janette said I was lucky that I didn't end up like Harold Holt. I was really, really hoping for a Playstation 2 this year, but I got two new cardigans and a coffee mug that says, "I'm PM, so why try harder?" on it. Maybe George will send me over something cool. Actually, I thought George had called me this morning to wish me a Happy Birthday, but it was just Pete Costello checking that I hadn't reconsidered and decided to retire today. I hadn't.

I got a wicked cool cake, though. It was a Pavlova, 'cause Janette reckons that's really Australian, and it had this poem iced on it:

Sixty-Four today
Hip-Hip Hooray
To a special Birthday Boy
And the countries that he helped destroy
The Liberal Party rules
The ALP are tools
Happy Birthday John
Now let's find another country to bomb!

Obviously, it was a big cake. Janette says she's going to slice up the rest and I can take it back to Canberra to share with my friends. Except for John Anderson, 'cause he brought Lamingtons on his birthday and didn't give me one. I reckon someone should explain to him what it being part of the coalition means: Being nice to me. What a meanie. Like I'd want his stupid National Party lamingtons, anyway.