The newsroom at pcbycp
Dear reader, we’re in bit of a flap about when to call the next election. You see electioneering has come into it, and it’s not a happy state. And sadly insults and accusations have been flying all around then newsroom. How has it come to this?
It all happened last week on Tuesday, about half past ten. Cecil came in late and he had a rotten look on his face. It was the sort of look that implied “look out” and we left him alone to stew. That’s the right approach when someone has “issues’ you let them “stew”. These days when ever somebody talks about ‘being blue’, the ‘black dog’ or just straight out depressed we’re encouraged to ring Life Line. But the fact is, whenever we feel suicidal we think of Jeff Kennet, and that just makes matters worse.
So we let Cecil stew for about a week and the finally Clarrie asked him. “What’s wrong”?
Well, if ever the levee of discontent should break it’d be nothing on what came forth from Cec.
Cecil is very expressive when it comes to calling an election
He was dark, dirty and disconsolate.
This house was built to house an owner who stayed once a year for a full day and a dog
It seems we’d forgotten to nominate who would take over the task of being the lunch monitor and organise the sandwiches for Wednesdays. Wednesdays are very important. It’s midweek, we call it “hump day”, and the task has rested with Cecil this past year. Every year we nominate a new leader to get the lunch and organise the sandwich run, before we watch Sky News and listen to Andrew Bolt. WE reckon it keeps us in touch with “Mainstream Australian values”, and helps us to identify things that endanger our sacred way of life Like African Crime Gangs, Abdiel Magied, or any other trouble maker who questions the eternal sanctity of Anzac and stoning women.
Troublemaker. Questions Anzackery and Pharlap
But that wasn’t the end of it. None of us had bothered to look at the constitution. We had one drawn up to officiate over the vexed issue of Tim Tams or Lamingtons for afternoon tea. There’s a kitty for this disbursement, and when we looked, cos we hadn’t organised a new office holder, we found out that Cec had used all the money in the kitty to get a box set of “Grand Designs” Dvd’s . In a word he’d blown the budget. We were flummoxed. How could we nominate the next custodian of the sandwich run if the budget has been blown? But Cec had a pretty reasonable reply.
He reckons, that with the box set dvd’s we can learn about what really really wealthy people do with their money, and why they spend squillions on hugely impressive buildings to accomodate one , (or two at the most) very privileged childless people and their pet dog. He reckons that’s more important than the sandwich roster, and tells us a little bit about ourselves. And besides he did it for our own good. To spend all the kitty to keep us informed of his bold policy direction.
To learn hardship as way to appreciate the future.
The corner Milkbar. Soon to be demolished to make way for another block of flats.
So there you have it. We still haven’t worked out who will do the sandwiches. But we know one thing. When we do elect a new office bearer, we’ll be happy to know that the money was well spent on promoting the lifestyles of the rich and famous to make us hungry in the knowledge that we know just that bit more of how much better we could be if we tried harder to be successful like the people on the telly. As Cecil said; ‘we’re a sandwich short of the picnic’. And he should know. He has a bold policy direction. No wonder we’re confused.