Stone the bloody crows

G’day mate. Don’t you reckon Scott Morrison is a try hard with all that bullshit about how he’s really a true blue, fair dinkum Aussie?

He might be the boss cockie but he’s got Buckley’s of persuading us that he hasn’t made a dog’s breakfast of vaccines, JobKeeper and stacks of other things.

It costs an arm and a leg in subsidies to fossil fuel companies to persuade us that we should have no fuckin’ wurries about climate change. And it’s No Wucka’s when it comes to finding another new empty slogan for any issue he has a gander at.

Things may be crook in Tallarook and Muswellbrook but he’s telling us all she’s apples and we should be happy little Vegemites.

We get knock’em down rains and it gets as dry as a dead dingos’s donger but she’ll be right mate – he’s going to tell everyone in Glasgow that it’s a piece of piss to meet our targets.

He mightn’t rock up to Glasgow but, fair crack of the whip, who in their right mind would want to spend two weeks in quarantine with Angus Taylor or Josh Frydenberg in the Lodge when you got back.

He’s not too keen on arty farties or shirt lifters but he loves to spend lots of time with seppos.

He does at least listen to his better half about how young sheilas should be treated. And he’s always got time for God-botherers.

Kevin Rudd and Malcolm Turnbull reckon he’s lower than a snake’s belly. They’ve really cracked the shits about his lies and empty promises.

But it would be really bonzer if we had a newie – doing a Morrison – for someone who smirks slogans and makes promises and never keeps them.

After all it would be half your luck if even a few of his promises were followed up by action.

As Kevin Rudd might say – ScoMo’s  had more than a fair shake of the sauce bottle – and it’s time he finally put his foot to the pedal.