November 2010 and Kevin Rudd was in a quandary. He�d just had his 73rd diary secretary quit on him, fed up with working 22 hours a day.
And his last speech writer had just quit because he was sick of the repetitive crap Rudd forced him to write. That was Rudd�s 57th speech writer, and now Rudd had no staff left, except his one loyal trusty advisor: his 15 year old son, Marcus.
Rudd needed a new speech writer: and fast! A hasty search was done through the corridors of Parliament House, but nobody could be found. Then a man was spotted etching a message into the table in the cafeteria. It said �Dyslexics of the world untie�.
As he was just finishing his second message, �Dog is Great�, one of Rudd�s advisors approached the man and asked �What are you doing�?
�I�m just drinking this bottle of �NA�VE� water. Oh and I�m writing a message in the table�.
�Ahh, so you are a writer�? asked the advisor.
�Yes I am, but I should warn you that I am a member of the DNA� the man said.
�The DNA? Huh�? queried the advisor.
�The National Dyslexic Association�.
But the advisor didn�t care and said �follow me, you�re the official new speech writer for Kevin Rudd.� The man didn�t have the heart to tell the young boy that he didn�t like Rudd and had previously etched another message into one of the tables at Parliament house that �Rudd sold his soul to Santa�.
�Listen up mate, what�s your name�? asked the advisor.
�Bob, and my wife is Hannah, and we both love Abba.� Suddenly Bob�s mood changed for the worse as he realized he�d be working for a man he despised.
�Dammit I�m mad� he said, backwards and forwards. �Dammit I�m mad�.
But Bob soldiered on and became Rudd�s 28th speech writer in just 2 years. He knuckled down to the task and wrote a speech for Rudd to present to the National Press Club.
Bob sat nervously in the audience, proudly wearing his �I put the sexy into dyslexia� t-shirt. He was confident he�d written a good speech, particularly the first part where he�d have Rudd say that he is �thoroughly enjoying running our country.�
Rudd cleared his throat and began; �Ladels and Germs, my name is Keith Ridd. I am your Prime Mister and I am thoughtlessly enjoying ruining our country.�
From the murmurs through the crowd, Bob knew he�d done a sterling job!
TO BE CONTINUED�.
He�s now formed 86 committees and 76 reviews, but with his hunger for a headline, that hardly rates a mention:
As his head hits the pillow in his Hiroshima Motel Room, Kevin Rudd quietly prays:
�Dear God, hi it�s Kevin, how�s it going up in heaven?
I�m praying to you from the Land of the Rising Sun,
There�s lots of Japanese here, and the thing I really fear,
Is that I have no ideas for tomorrow�s headline, not a one,
I need your help Lord because I feel the pressure building around my rectum, I need that headline so my popularity doesn�t �cascade down the spectrum�
So please deliver me a sign, an indication that you�re listening,
So I can deliver that headline, to keep my popularity glistening,
I�m in the city of Hiroshima, chauffeured around in a nice new Beema,
And I�m struggling to find something to say to the Japanese press,
So please send divine intervention, so then I will not have to mention,
That without me you�d be nothing�.. but I digress� ..
�Did the earth move for you Therese? I�m feeling weak at the knees�,
No wait, that was the sign, love, from the big guy up above,
He�s channeling the A-bomb, his message is coming through loud and clear,
That�s it! I�ll arrange a new committee, to tackle problems nuclear.
I tell you God, you�re all class, once again, you�ve saved my arse,
All I can say to you is thankyou and thanks Heavens!
And to really make a statement, I�ll roll out an old lefty who�s been latent,
They�ll love it when I tell �em the committee will be chaired by Gareth Evans.
I�ll dust the cobwebs off Evans, just like a cellared bottle of Merlot,
And, hey, what the heck, to keep him busy I�ll also appoint Kernot,
�Are you awake my dear Therese?�, seems all I can hear is your snores,
(Reaches for bedside phone),
�Hey Jeeves, it's Kevin keen to please, get dressed, we're going to �Scores�.�
Arigato. Sayonara. God help us all.
AMcA.