Working at Gleebooks has its perks. As a bit of a Christmas/end-of-year present the events manager, Morgan, gave the events staff free tickets to the launch of the Chaser Annual. It was last weekend. I had a great time and ended up at a punk night at a pub which featured a singer/songwriter skinhead playing folksy tunes and screaming about the ANZAC spirit. Before getting to the punk gig I had a close encounter of the conservative kind.
On leaving the event and walking through USyd I happened to bump into the PM who was getting changed out of his disguise. I layed down some silent ninja shit on the cohort of federal police. Those moves are so mysterious they experienced it as a missing duration of time. It helped that they were having an argument about this summer’s Ashes contest and the nature of the various keys used to measure the paucity of pitches’ porosity.
The PM was halfway out of his figure-hugging slim-fitting dress. He was troubled by the dress’s clasp which had caught itself on his bra. His fur coat was flung across the boot of his official Holden Statesmen goverment car. There was a splash of red under the coat. It caught my eye because it clashed with the PM’s dress. It sent me off on a nightmarish spiral of psychoanalytically-induced malaise when I realised the Symbolic implications of the PM’s splash of red/fur coat combination. Why not?
I really just wanted to fuck with John Howard.
So I breathlessly thrust my hand into his fur coat and got my slightly sweaty fingers around the redness. It was his copy of the Chaser Annual.
You’ll note that Peter Costello is actually part of the Chaser team. This certainly clears up a number of questions I had about the leadership of this country.
My apologies to Janette because now she is going to have get the official Woman’s Weekly biography of Bindi Irwin for Christmas instead.