Many nights we all lay awake thinking, could you cook a steak so cooked not even Jesus himself could cook it more? Well, ponder no more, because One Nation Senator Malcolm Roberts continues to answer that very question.
In case you missed it (and you might have, since he deleted it) Roberts had a thing to say about the Australia Day protests:
“If those rude left wing extremists won’t respect our heritage and love for our country on Australia Day, why should we respect their need for Labour Day? Does not Labour day bring back painful memories for most of us? I toss and turn on Labour Day thinking of Whitlam’s debt, Gillard’s carbon tax, Hawkie sculling beer, Keating’s tacky and unpatriotic Zegnas, and Rudd, well just how much of a twerp he is. Don’t I have a cultural right to be protected from Labour? No, no I don’t, and I wouldn’t ask for it because I’m not a sook.”
Does Senator Roberts actually think Labour Day is there to celebrate Hawkie smashing a VB? Does Senator Roberts actually think that? Normally I would give someone the benefit of the doubt here and assume they’re havin’ a laff, but when you believe climate change is a conspiracy perpetuated by NASA, I don’t doubt for a second you’d think Labor and labour are the same thing. As Karl Marx himself said, ‘Communism deprives no man of the ability to appropriate the fruits of Bill Shorten’s 100 Positive Policies.’
No worries, Malc, I see you’ve written on Twitter today that ‘the left don’t get satire.’ Mmm, do you reckon that’s true, though? And if so, why did you delete it? Satire generally makes a point, and the only point I can extrapolate from ‘Labour Day means the political party Labor,’ is some deep, self-aware M Night Shyamalan shit about how deeply off the rails some of our elected officials are.
Anyways, here’s are some other categorically correct accounts of history.
As the legend goes, a long time ago Jesus had a massively sick Friday, a Friday so good he decided every year from then on would be Good As Hell. Jesus woke up, punched a cone, found 20 bucks on the ground, kickflipped off the crucifix, cracked open a cold one then ate the best Filet O Fish that has ever been consumed. It is for this reason the people henceforth exclaimed every Friday, “Thank God It’s Friday.”
I toss and turn on Queen’s Birthday thinking of Freddie Mercury’s moustache, his tacky and unpatriotic catsuits and, well, just how much of a legend he is. Do I have a cultural right to be protected from Queen? No, no I don’t, and I wouldn’t ask for it because Somebody To Love is one of the best songs of all time.
Only celebrated in the socialist paradise of Victoria, the sacred day we all stay home and just appreciate every kind of cup. Tumblers, glasses, chalices, mugs, the whole lot. Hell yeah, cups baby.
St Patrick’s Day
May he rest in peace. Dirty Dancing changed my life.
A holy day set aside so that we may all watch the entire Rocky filmography, expressing gratitude for the blessed sanctity of Creed (2015).
Every year on February 14 we mourn the birth of me, writer Lucy Valentine, and every year before that we feared the possibility of my birth. Commercial bastardisation has turned it into a Hallmark holiday rather than the somber occasion it was intended as. A large section of Banksy’s work is based on this fact.