MirandaDevine.com

Heavens to Howard, I woke up feeling terribly ill this morning!

Last night I went on an absolute bender with Michael Duffy, and we ended up at New South Wales RSL club (a glorious institution, might I add) sharing a bottle of Scotch. As far as glorious, right-wing, true Australians go, Michael Duffy is pretty pinko. He’s far too rural for me, and what’s more, he doesn’t advocate extermination by lethal gas of either The Greens or the scum volunteering at Barnardos for Kids, a position that to me is quite preposterous and far too moderate. However, he’s got some excellent ideas about how we can work towards bringing the mean Australian IQ down to a nice, manageable number so that glorious Middle Australia is not overrun by the poncy whims of the raging left-wing intellectual elite.

It’s all about breeding, Michael says. According to him, we need to infiltrate and shag as many left wing intellectuals as possible, thereby preventing these scum from creating a separate master race, getting rich, buying our land, and enforcing their draconion lefty policies over glorious Middle Australia! I thought this was a capital idea, and suggested that perhaps I could start with James Bond. I don’t know if Daniel Craig’s a leftist in real life – anyone so perfect could not possibly be so cursed – but given that he is probably friends with George Clooney and Alec Baldwin, he might be. Hmmm.

Hang it all! He’s a spangdoodlingly splendiferous sausage of a specimen. I don’t care about his political leanings as long as he flexes his biceps! YUMM-O!!

Anyway, back to last night.

I don’t remember what happened after the RSL closed, but I woke up at 5am in the dark on my roof, lying on my sunbed. A possum was peering quizically at me, perched atop my favourite magnolia tree and munching on one of my magnolia blossoms. The audacity! I don’t know how the little blighter got up there, since I erected a razor wire perimeter around the trunk last Summer and it’s been pretty good at keeping possums, goannas and single mothers with young children from ruining my favourite magnolia tree. But no matter: I fetched my blunderbuss from the garage and blew the little bastard back to the rainforest it came from. The noise gave me a splitting headache and there were now pieces of possum all over the driveway and in the pool. I wasn’t very happy.

The massive sense of dehydration that I was experiencing made me realise what it must feel like to be New South Wales under the Labor government. I turned on the tap and listened as the water ran into the kitchen sink, musing about how Iemma’s government have squandered our lifesource – oil…I mean WATER! We need more dams!

After about twenty minutes of musing and enjoying the serenity of the sounds of running water, I decided to fill my glass and have a drink, in an attempt to allay the tremendous hangover lurking in the dark shadows of my overdeveloped cerebrum. Unfortunately, all this heat recently has made the pipes warm, so I thought I’d leave the tap running for a little while longer to let it cool down. I left the kitchen and went to fill my brand new spa bath for a nice soak. It can fit 6 people, and the jets are so powerful that I needed to buy a generator to run them! Superb! Which does remind me: Gerard Henderson, Derryn Hinch and Petey Debnam are coming over next week for canapes, bubbly, and a spa! After the hour or so it took to fill, I went back to the kitchen and filled my glass with lovely cool water (thankfully, it had cooled down nicely).

I then descended the ladder into my tub and had a good, hour-long soak, and thought about my next article. We need more dams. We need to crush those whinging conservationists who chain themselves to old growth trees and bite the hand that feeds (and waters) them. Those idiots clearly haven’t worked out why a rainforest is called a rainforest yet: because it rains there! And where should a dam be situated? Good guess, leftist scum: where it rains!

We clearly have a problem, since rainforests are getting in the way of terrific dam locations (not to mention some tremendously lush real-estate). I propose the rainforests make way. After all, who gives a fuck about some leaves, vines and the local cuscus population anyway?

Look at that thing. What the bleeding blazes does a fucking cuscus contribute to the progress of this glorious nation? Nothing! Nothing except sensational furcoats and guano-scented shit. The glorious everyman of Middle Australia, the contributor to our powerhouse economy, needs to water his children and his grevilleas! More dams! Fuck the cuscusses! Cuscusses, make way!

The leftist, howling conservationist scum in disagreement with me can suck on the sordid, kebab-ridden fart that I just dropped as a result of last night’s drinking efforts. Hah!

Back to my day. After my bath, I trotted outside in my bathrobe and hosed the possum guts off the driveway. I also noticed that the pool had some blood in it. A health disaster indeed! I drained the pool and refilled it. Then I went inside and wrote my column.

Ah. I feel tremendous now. The hangover has gone. I went back to my possum-free roof, admired my possum-free magnolias, and basked in my righteousness on my sunbed for the rest of the day.

Oh, and until we’ve built the dams, be sure to save water!

Toodles!

xx Miranda