Canberra is humming with talk of your political nous.
How cunning of you to persuade poor silly Willie to stay away from Mad Bob and those other morons and jump into bed with Joolea.
Then Pieter Harriet sidles up to me in the parliamentary dining room and tells me you are a smart operator [he is still bitter he was fucked him up the arse and hung him out to dry] and him and Willie are both having their photos taken with you on your tractor.
Would I be able to do the same?
I could use it for my website.
That soft cock Young Bill reckons he is going to fuck me up the arse and take over.
I run the Conservative Party in Tasmania.
Not that limp wristed commie pinko.
He would have picked up the phone and jumped into bed with the filthy fucking greenies had I not intervened.
He reckons he wants to reach out to the Tasmanian people.
What sort of homosexual is he?
What would Enoch Powell, Hitler, Margaret Thatcher or Genghis Khan think of this sort of soft cock approach?
I also have some idiot trying to get me to leave parliament just because I have 2 passports.
I need him to be taken out of the equation [so to speak].
Now Brian, I can tell you are a man who could take care of this.
I will drop into the POW and the Shippies Brian as they reckon you can handle an ale or two.