Or should that be “the keg?”
Welcome to our beginning of the working week thread. It’s usually the “watercooler,” but stuff it. I thought we’d have a glass of the red stuff instead.
Actually, I’m back on the chamomile tea. Which is bloody tragic when you think about it.
Well yesterday, was, apparantly, a national day of mourning.
It managed to elude me until I caught a snapshot of John Brumby bopping to a rousing rendition of “Reach out and touch somebody.” “Exactly where” was left to the imagination and what the entire fanfare had to do with the Victorian fire disaster escaped me, but I guess it meant something to somebody.
Certainly Kevin Rudd was in fine mournful form; all pursued lips semi-sedated delivery, however he was narrowly outdone by Malcolm Turnbull, who managed to deliver his monologue with much more heavy-hearted and sombre gravitas. The Milky Bar kid was no match for Turnbull’s Hamlet.
All we needed was Julie Bishop to throw herself upon the alter in tears wailing “why hast thou forsaken me?” And we would’ve had all the makings of a Shakespearean tragedy.
Tony Abbott had obviously been side-stepped altogether, no doubt with his demand to descend from the ceiling of the Rod Laver arena in glowing white robes and neon halo being considered ‘not in keeping’ with the current economic climate.
Joe Hockey was no where to be seen either, although rumour has it, he was touting the crowds outside the arena in a crown of thorns, dragging a life size crucifix and scalping tickets to his next appearance on Sunrise.
Anyway, this is the stuff of nonsense….
Over to youse…