MirandaDevine.com

Sydney Bitter - another fine product which went the way of the dodo under Carr

Once again I don my red cap with the gold star and head out into the fold to fight for the people’s rights. Feeling a little like Ernesto Guevara himself, I am greeted by literally thousands of fawning admirers, many of dubious race, creed and sexuality, but like El Che I put that aside and concentrate on the real enemy.

Looming large and shadowy on the horizon, with a finger in every pie and a briefcase full of cash in every state politician’s office, the Australian Hotels Association is doing its utmost to deny Middle Australia their right to enjoy a quiet Pimm’s Cup in a trendy, inner-city cafe. Lesbian dog-owner Clover Moore’s plan to introduce Melbournian-style licencing laws to Sydney was her first and only truly laudable idea, and yet it has been met with a brick wall of resistance, in the form of grey-suited jobs-for-the-boys advocates, who would be more at home taking Kevin Rudd out to Score’s nightclub than bumbling their way over a cocktail menu. These hate-filled hoteliers simply do not appreciate the pleasure that every upper-middle class housewife finds in a small lunchtime tipple, and will do everything they can to ensure that the booze dollars do not stray outside their smoke-filled, tradesman-friendly pubs and clubs.

The shadow minister for smallgoods, George Souris, extracted his tongue from AHA President John Thorpe’s trousers long enough to give this statement:

Sydney can go suck a fat one. Chardonnay is for f*ckwits. It’s beer or nothing in this man’s town.

Well, Mr Thorpe, the people simply aren’t going to stand for this much longer. Sure, drinking Pimm’s and lemonade while perched atop my sunbed is all well and good, but when I have had a hard day’s manicure in the CBD, I want to be able to relax Melbourne-style with a couple of cocktails before heading back north of the bridge in my Toyota Monstrosity. Besides, a couple of drinks relaxes me enough to be able to drive without attempting to run down cyclists, pedestrians, and musicians.

Influential economist (and close friend of mine) Dr John Nieuwenhuysen spent most of his childhood throwing rocks at black kids in Johannesburg, and is therefore the most qualified man in the country when it comes to licencing policy. He single-handedly changed the face of Melbourne, by allowing beauty parlours to serve cocktails as part of their service, reducing the reliance of Victorian housewives on Valium. I spoke to him on the phone last Friday (after half a bottle of Bombay Sapphire):

Mr Thorpe can go suck a fat one. He’s an absolute f*ckwit. It’s not up to him to tell Sydney what they want - that’s my job. Booze for all - except the abbos. They get high enough from petrol as it is.

In conclusion, I would like to blame the whole situation on Bob Carr. What kind of a nancy boy prefers museums to a football game anyway?