Wednesday, December 05, 2007

WhatEVER, Australia.

Are you all retarded? I was the best PM eva! I did so much awesome stuff for this country, like pretty much single-handedly keeping the economy strong with Workchoices and keeping dirty foreigners out and stuff. Not to mention the power walking! Eleven years of power walking! 4015 days! With just one hour of strutting my hot prime ministerial body around every one of those days -- that's 240,900 minutes of blood, sweat, tears and green tracksuits that I gave to you people!

And what do I get for it? Kicked out in favour of some pinko journalist because she danced ONCE! And it's not even that she's a chardonnay sipping, tree-hugging, watermelon former ABC employee -- she's also a ginga! A blood nuts, fanta pants red-head. Gross.

You also voted for a smug, dweeby little geek, which... ugh. WE had a monopoly on smug. Like Alexander Downer wasn't good enough for you people? Tony Abbott's condescending laugh? And NO ONE smirks like Peter Costello smirks. Although, nice going, Peter, you spaz. You whinge like a little baby for the leadership and NOW I give it to you and you don't want it? It's so obvious he only wanted to be leader because I was, and now I'm not, he doesn't want it. Real mature, Peter, you der-brain.

You've also got another commie ginger pubes and her barren womb kitchen and a washed-up rock star.

Yeah, good work, voters. Clap, clap for the handicaps.

Anyway, now I've pretty much chosen to retire (for real, I pretty much GAVE it to Maxine), I can go and do better things than be the PM. I mean, I didn't even really want to be the leader anymore, anyway. And I think it's time I lived out my true calling: to become a professional cricketer. I'm not even 70 yet, and I'm in better shape than Shane Warne (and, as Janette will tell you, I'm pretty good at sending HOT SMSes -- like: 'hai janette, i wld ttly like 2 c yr brassiere' and 'u hav a good buttoxx'). I still wield a pretty mean kanga cricket bat and shaved down tennis ball, and I have my own gold and green tracksuits.

Although, another job I would like is to be the next Australian Idol judge, because oh my GOD, that decision was the real let down of election weekend. Matt was sooo cool, and oh, those blue eyes... swoon! Although, not winning DOES mean we have something in common! And neither of us are going to let that get in our way.

I'm not going to become some hack Young Diva just 'cause I lost ONE election. I'm going to be a Shannon Noll. I'm going to be an Anthony Callea (minus the gay). Not so much a Jessica Mauboy, 'cause she was black and stuff. And Kevin is going to be a Casey Donovan or a Kate DeAraugo. Not even -- you wouldn't even make Idol, Kevin. you're Scott Cain. You're Scandal'us. You're Random.

And Bob Brown is Joel Turner -- a stupid novelty, but he didn't even make it to the real show. The Democrats are the Beatbox Alliance.

Anyway, Australia, I guess I'll catch you later, seeing as you don't want to be friends with me anymore, or whatever. Just don't come running back to ME when this whole country becomes a communist hell-hole where like, everyone has to share food and play hacky-sack and wear those Che Guevara t-shirts.

Peace out.

J. Ho.