Adolf watched a little of Question Time today and was unable to spot the Dishonorable Winston Peters. The bouffant yapping brown baublers's call was missing from the chamber.
Question time usually is dominated by his braying personal statements of indescribable nonsense; the spittle flecked points of order hurled about the house; the personal abuse withdrawn after the words have made it into Hansard; and of course the nasty libel and vicious slander hiding behind the lace petticoats of parliamentary privilege. Those are the personal trademarks of the dishonorable member. So Question Time was a tame affair.
Clark looked haggard and repeated her stock stupid non answer to every question, raising her eyes heavenward each time, as though God somehow might reach down and swat away her tormentors.
Where was he? Why was he not there to throw back the heinous hordes? Was he away on medical grounds? "Here's a note Madamn speaker. Aunty Helen said I had to go to hospital for an honesty transfusion."
Silly me! How could I have been so blind. Of course I should have guessed where he is.
He's off talking to those four nice fellows from the Serious Fraud Office about what a wonderful chap he is and how he's got an election campaign to run and terribly sorry, he just hasn't got time to talk to them and listen to me sunhine!...... Sorry? What was that you said? You'll make time for me? All of ten years? But the election will be over before then............ I've got flash lawyers here you can talk to about this piddling stuff. Bracelet? What fucking electronic bracelet? Passport? Don't you know who I am?
Oh, you do? Oh shit.
The joys of multiculturalism:
2 hours ago