MirandaDevine.com

Fiddlesticks and Labor Party leaders, I am sprawling around my house today feeling utterly shattered.

I’ve tried to make myself feel better, but nothing has worked. I went up onto my roof and basked on my sunbed, but even the penetrating rays of righteousness emanating from my bosom weren’t enough to keep me from feeling down. I went for a drive, but ended up getting roadrage and accidently ran over a Jehovah’s Witness. In the end, I felt so ordinary that I went home, poured myself a Pimm’s and lemonade (the glorious drink of the motherland), lay down on my polar bearskin rug in front of my airconditioner, flicked on the plasma-screen and languidly pondered the injustices perpetrated by the howling wolves of the left.

Why am I sad, you ask? WHY?? You would ask that, given your obviously leftist, socialist, sympathy-peddling way of seeing the world. I’m not always like this, you know. This morning I felt chipper. I spent the early hours of the day speaking to my old friend Gerard Henderson and had a good chuckle about our strategies for column writing until this AWB rubbish blows over, or at least until we work out what the hell a “kickback” is. Gerard suggested that a “kickback” might involve the kind of violence we see perpetrated by middle-eastern Muslim thugs at Stanmore McDonalds on Friday and Saturday nights. I told Gerard that this was a good angle to take, and in my righteous opinion, gloriously correct. We discussed how the AWB might be involved with Stanmore McDonalds, and this was a bit of a sticking point, until I stunningly and cogently pointed out that the thugs of middle-eastern appearance loitering at Stanmore McDonalds on Friday and Saturday nights would definitely be eating burgers, laden with wheaty goodness. Those leftist do-gooders really do get their knickers in knots about the silliest things! Nonetheless, I advised Gerard that he should follow my lead and write about something more relevant to the plight of Middle Australia: namely, the cricket, or even more groundbreaking: the purely ceremonious and utterly spurious role of the Governor General (God save our glorious Queen!).

As I said, I was feeling utterly superb, until Gerard dropped the bombshell. I haven’t felt so devastated since a band offensively named “The Whitlams” hit number 1 on the Hottest 100 for that dangerously leftist hunk of radio codswobble, Triple J.

Naomi Robson is quitting Today Tonight.
Oh, woe is Middle Australia! Woe is me! Naomi was the emblem for all that is good, glorious, righteous and popular in this glorious nation of battling property investors! She exposed the criminals: the Muslims wearing burqas, the cannibalistic Indonesians planning to eat children, and of course, Mercedes Corby’s orthodontist! Oh, the injustice! Woe, and fie on the baying dogs of the intellectual elite who shunned her brilliance! How I shall miss her triumphant snarl and cheshire grin, her righteous demolition of those tall poppy intellectual types, and the warm fuzzy feeling I felt knowing that after reaffirming my views as parallel with the dreams of the glorious average Australian, I could snuggle down and watch Home and Away! Woe! Woe, and Fie!
This is clearly the fault of those pathetic do-gooders who don’t see the point in purchasing a plasma screen TV. If you chardonnay-sipping cheapskates watched more TV, then maybe Naomi would feel the love she deserves.

She will be back. She must come back! Naomi, sweetie, call me and we’ll catch up for a coffee and discuss your next job as a Herald columnist.

Toodles!

xx Miranda