Monthly Archives: March 2011

Revamping Kevin Rudd’s image: an action plan

I wrote this some time last year, obviously before Kevin was dumped as leader of the ALP. Having since rediscovered it, I think it’s only fair I share with you all. Hooray!

Dear Prime Minister.

After careful consulatation with your constituents we have developed the following action plan to boost your popularity among the fickle, whingeing voters who can’t remember just why they supported you back in 2007.

First, you need to change your hairstyle to something more contemporary. Your current style makes you resemble Dr Bunsen Honeydew from The Muppet Show. That’s not a good thing.

Second, consider replacing your glasses with contact lenses; they make you look like John Howard and no-one wants to look like John Howard. Also, if you get into a political brawl with Abbott you don’t want people to pity you just because Abbott won’t hit a person wearing glasses (although he probably would).

Third, eat meat. No male who considers himself a real Australian would ever be a vegetarian. Maybe consider doing television advertisements with Sam Kekovich (“Australia loves its lamb”).

Fourth, don’t yell at air hostesses. Are you familiar with the Mile High Club? Try that instead. Yelling at air hostesses about a vegetarian meal makes you appear, well, homosexual to most Aussie males (and probably a good portion of Aussie females). However, given that Abbott has publicly declared that he feels threatened by homosexuals, you could probably use this to create another change of leadership in the Liberal Party.

Fifth, speak English. Even when you’re not speaking Mandarin you’re still not speaking English. Simply your speeches and get to the point. It may be a cliché, but if you want to be taken seriously you need to say what you mean and mean what you say. Chinglish is not acceptable, either.

Sixth, don’t say ‘sixth’ in a sentence. It’s hard to pronounce without lisping and a lisp will make you appear homosexual.

Seventh, lose the public affirmations of ‘faith’. If you choose to believe in god and Jesus and virgin births, keep it to yourself. A leader who wants to be taken seriously on the world stage does him/herself no favours in professing a belief in fairy tales. Alternatively, you could demonstrate the Aussie sense of larrikinism my changing the opening prayer at Parliament to one thanking Harry Potter from saving us all from Lord Voldemort.

Eighth, Rupert Murdoch is nobody’s friend and only idiots listen to talkback radio. You don’t need to appeal to a demographic that gets its information from those media sources; people like that believe the earth is flat and that their destinies are determined by astrology.

Ninth, consider giving Rove an Order of Australia medal. People seem to like Rove for some reason and giving him an AO would make you appear like a ‘good bloke’. A bit like Hawke did when, after Australia won the America’s Cup, he said something like “Any boss that sacks a worker for calling in sick tomorrow is a bum!”

Tenth, like Hawkey, be seen drinking beer. Seing as you’re from Queensland, XXXX is acceptable. However, do not, under any circumstances, be seen with a VB. The only people who drink VB are racists, homophobes, and people with southern cross tattoos (ie, people of below-average intelligence, and you don’t want to appear of below-average intelligence).

Eleventh, chuck a sickie every now and then. Julia is more than capable of answering your telephone and letters. Real Aussies chuck sickies.

Twelfth, consider giving Julia speech therapy to make her sound less bogan. If she’s going to be the “people’s princess”, she needs to not sound like a Victa mower whenever she opens her mouth.

Blossom #2

sweet parfûm on the throat
calls me softly
draws me close

inhale the breath

heaven-scent

Blossom #1

soft white
freckled face
beauty does not hide

Red-Eyed Blues

Well I’ve been waiting half the night
waiting for her call
but I’ve heard nothing
nothing from her at all
and I’ll keep waiting
what else can I do?
Oh yeah waiting
with these red-eyed blues

I’ve got my bourbon in a bottle
my cigarettes by my arm
wondering what she’s doing
and hoping she’s safe from harm
so I’m waiting
nothing else to do
oh yeah waiting
with these red-eyed blues

The hours pass slowly by & the
bourbon gets lower & lower
all I want is a few minutes
to help me get to know her
and I’m waiting
don’t know what else to do
oh yeah waiting
with these red-eyed blues

I’m sitting here on my own
staring at the floor
and every moment’s silence
breaks my heart a little more
but I keep waiting
waiting like a fool
oh yeah waiting
with these red-eyed blues

Is she in the arms of another?
Or somewhere all alone?
My questions could be answered
if she’d only pick up the phone
yeah I’m waiting
feelings all battered & bruised
waiting waiting waiting
with these red-eyed blues

Now I think she’s avoiding me
& I don’t understand
oh why can’t she see I
just want to be her man?
And I’m still waiting
knowing that I’ll lose
stubbornly waiting
with these red-eyed blues

[Now all I need to do is put it to music.]

Disconnect

from her
from him

disconnect from self

from the self

from them
them and IT

always them and it

whatever the it

disconnect

hard to

hard to
to explain

explain the why

explain the what?
harder to

but seem to
seem to connect
to try

appear to try

disconnect
but don’t show

can’t show

hard to

[This was my second attempt at writing in the style of Samuel Beckett. I think it sort of worked.]

Undressed

A nervous smile and a faint blush
gives lie to your self assurance
as I watch you undress.
You arch your back as your dress slides lazily
off your shoulders
and over your hips to the floor.

You move to the bed and lie
down, waiting. I follow.
My fingers and lips converse with your skin
as you thrust your hips up and
part your legs
to let me explore more freely.

My tongue teases and probes,
tasting you sweetness,
relishing your heat, hands firmly on your hips
as you shudder with release
and quietly implore,
“Fuck me.”

You gasp quickly and your eyes widen
as I enter you,
and we fuck like we have
all the time in the world.

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