Politics in New Zealand largely is civilized, tame and boring, with the exception of leg over lad games in ministerial digs, that is. Or tennis ball stuffers, or hotel carpet wetters and other such like.
All of these pale alongside Australia's latest cause celebre.
It has all the elements one ever could want. Raunchy sex by the truck load, a tall poppy dobbed in by one of the prols, a string of preposterous excuses and evasions but best of all, the very likely potential to topple the Gillard Brown/Green gummint in one hit. Takes me right back to the days when Australia's smartest prime minister, Gough Whitlam, was done over by Australia's dumbest premier, Jo Bjelke-Petersen who managed to spike the Senate, leading to Whitlam's eventual dismissal and subsequent election loss.
And best of all, the bastard who's in the gun this time was born in Wellington! ! ! The media here haven't picked up that salient fact just yet. Gillard is about to be sunk by another Kiwi. (Jo Bjelke-Petersen was born in Dannevirke,) The Ockers were pretty quick to claim Nancy Wake and Phar Lap so I wonder how soon they'll throw this one back.
Anyway, what's the deal?
As Helen Clark did in her last term, Julia Gillard has a paper thin majority in the House of Reps, namely one. So you can see, she can be tossed out in the event of just one inconvenient heart attack or a troublesome scandal leading to a by-election. The way the polls are at present, she might not even hang on to her own seat, it's that bad for Labor.
Out of the blue has come just such a juicy, delectable scandal.
The Labor MP for the NSW seat of Dobell and ex Health Services Union national secretary has been dobbed in to the Liberals - with full documentary evidence - for allegedly using his union credit card to pay for services rendered by an upper class knock shop when he was head of the union. A union member has lodged a formal complaint against Thompson with the police. (They don't bloody like Kiwis in NSW!)
A mere $15,000 dollars.
He has put forth the excuse that even though his signature is on the chits and is contained in the formal expense approval process, it wasn't him who did the high class knocking. Apparently one is to believe it was another person who cannot be identified and who has since reimbursed the fifteen grand. You know, like your three year old's 'little friend' only he can see.
The politician's name happens to be Thomson. Political parties throughout Australia and new Zealand should remind themselves NEVER to preselect for candidacy any person with the surname of Thomson or any variation of it.
Anyway, this morning Adolf received an unverified and unedited transcript of an alleged interview between an unnamed and unverified MP and an unnamed and unverified TV channel chief political reporter. Let's leave out the preliminaries and cut to the chase:-
CPR: Mr ..................., when are you going to resign? (He was trained by Fran Mold)
MP: Resign? Don't be so ******* stupid. I haven't done anything wrong. It's all a put up job by those dirty bastards in the Liberal party.
CPR: But you signature is on the chits and the final approval.
CT: Naaah that's bullshit, mate. I never signed those chits. They're forgeries and I never knew it was a brothel when I approved them. And anyway, the bloke who spent the money has since reimbursed the union.
CPR: So who was the person who spent the money?
CT: Sorry mate. Can't tell yer that. Wouldn't be the right thing, would it?
CPR: Isn't $15,000 quite a lot of money to spend at a brothel over three months?
CT: Naaah mate, you're wrong again. It was six months and that works out to less than $600 per week. Pretty reasonable, I would have thought. Jeezers mate, don't you realise the stress that's involved in heading up a big union? Bloody hell, every day I was surrounded by unionists! I mean nobody gave a shit about John Kennedy. I'm like him. If I don't get some serious hard poontang after three days I get migraines. Six hundred bucks gets you an hour on Monday to prepare for a hard week and another hour on Friday to get over it. We'll get in into the award one day.
CPR: But what about your wife?
CT: Listen you slimy bastard, you just leave my wife out of this. Have you no respect for wimmin? Wives are for cooking and breeding. They're no good for hard ******* twice a week. You need relays for that.
CPR: OK Mr .................., sorry I intruded on your personal life. There were a number of calls logged on your cell phone to the brothel at about the time the bookings and payments were made.
CT: How ******* dumb are you, mate? Don't you read the news papers? It's those fuckers down at Fairfax. They hacked into my phone and planted them phone calls.
The interview then became incomprehensible and CPR departed.
You know it's so bizarre, it could almost be true.