AusPol winners and losers: George, don’t bring your gun to town

A tired movie reference, a questionable holiday fling and an overturned semi worth of irony litters the street of AusPol. Who won? Who cares.



Politics is like that party you show up to, where the only person you know isn’t there yet. So, you awkwardly stand in the corner and try your best to look serious. The music on-tap is the most overplayed remixes of 1990s glory day hits and the fridge is only filled with bitter. Eventually, the owner of the house kicks everyone out before it gets rowdy, or anyone has a chance to explore the upstairs bedrooms with a stranger. Everyone parts, trying to figure out if they had fun or not.

But we at The Big Smoke are a results-focused bunch, thus, here are this week’s #AusPol winners and losers.


Barnaby Joyce, for adding a Shakespearian turn to his second act.

This whole Barnaby fiasco has been missing something. I mean other than perhaps the invention of Charles Goodrich (Google it), I think there’s been a complete lack of class. I mean, there’s been drama, but it’s been the kind that gets circulated around your group of friends when you’re not around (ask them), but anyone can have that, these are our elected officials, the best of us, and frankly, they should put on a better show.

Clearly, Nationals MP Andrew Broad didn’t sleep through Theatrical English, as he’s decided to take the role Auspol’s Gaius, lobbing knives from the far recesses of the backbench, where, if my Shakespeare knowledge is correct, if Julius Barnabus decides meets Broadus Gaius on his terms, then then doth’ll have to drag race for the supremacy of Rome.



Beware the drags in March.





George Christensen, for not only packing heat, but totally let us see it.

George Christensen has long been the abject tease of Australian Politics. Prior to his latest sleeve drop, we were treated to the spectacle of that Rubenesque chap alluding toward his BDSM/Jesus fetish, which, was hot enough, but this week, we copped a peek at George’s piece, replete with a strong grip and an oxford shirt dalmatianed by sweat.





Just stop. Stop whatever you’re doing and call me.



Also on The Big Smoke




Tony Abbott, for claiming everyone else’s wrongdoing.

It’s a terrible thing, being forgotten. Especially if you happen to be a raging narcissist. It’s tough, once you were the name of everyone’s lip, and the bruise on everyone’s forehead, and then suddenly, you’re no longer anything, reduced to the journalistic equivalent of forecasting the apocalypse while wearing a large sign.



Tony, Tony, Tony. I understand, cob. But things are very bad now, and we’re kind of blaming those you proudly claim as yours. Give us some time to miss you Tone, and we’ll eventually love, uh…miss? No.

We’ll something you again, yeah?



Julie Bishop, for her questionable holiday fling.

Look, I get it, the questionable affair is de rigueur at the mo, and also understand that strangers overseas are assisted by the anabolic of the unusual, but Jesus, Jules, you could do better than nonsense Boris.


Those legs, though?




Honourable mentions

The Golden Emerson – awarded to those who waste everyone’s time with complete verbal tosh – goes to:

Donald Trump, for thinking of the children, someone please think of the children.

Earlier in the week, ’45’ took umbrage with America’s mass school shooting culture, so he decided to act. Not by banning guns, mind, but deciding to arm teachers. You know, to protect kids. This morning, he’s thought of the kidlets even more, looking to rename ‘active shooter’ safety drills to something less scary. Thank the President, children, he’s trying to protect you.




The Secret Verbs and Spicers for the sauciest, most regret-inducing piece of fried hyperbole each week goes to:

The American Pornography industry, for being cold, murderous callous bastards.

If there’s one thing I can’t abide, and have certainly had a gutful of, it’s those bloody American pornographers.

Too many times have we awoken lately to discover that these cretins have rapidly spat and dealt death upon those who were very much not involved with the entirety of the process. Frankly, I’m over the moon that the Floridian legislators have curtailed this needless, and frankly unwelcome popping off.


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