God I Wish Paul Keating Would Fuck Off.

God I wish Paul Keating would fuck off. I mean that with total sincerity. To know me is to know I can’t dare keep my opinions to myself. Not for want of trying sometimes, but I really can’t help myself and so it would seem neither can ye olde Paul. When I had just left school I was thrown into the world with two dresses, a pair of Dr. Martin knock offs and a mattress. That was about it really. I went out into “the recession we had to have” thanks to Paul Keating.

Over the years he was in power it was as life would have it for me the worst years financially for anyone who was on Struggle Street to be involved in. I recall going to what was known back then as the CES the Commonwealth Employment Agency as it was referred to try and get a job. For those of you too young to know the system was a little easier to navigate back then. You were unemployed you rocked up to the CES you walked in they had partition boards up with job cards on them listing what jobs were available. You would choose what you thought might suit you head to the desk clerk who was a retard on crack and try and get them to send you to the employer for an interview which they would arrange. It was hell, but it was the only way to put food on the table for those with no experience and no qualifications. So it was there I found I hated Paul Keating.

I spent many days waiting for even a job card to be posted and when it was there was a score of out of work factory workers who had been laid off also waiting for work. They sneered at me whenever I got up to get the details. Eventually we all got a few days work packing lamingtons at the Top Taste factory in Meadowbank. I couldn’t believe my luck, cake and money. As I worked with these people I got to know how hard my life was going to be if I didn’t soon get a decent job with decent money. Thankfully I did but only through the skin of my teeth and a 50c jacket I got from St Vincent De Paul, god love em. It was never through Paul Keating, the bastard gave me nothing. Now it would seem when we have put him and his ethics to bed he just keeps bubbling back up for more. One minute banging on about World War 1 and Gallipoli being an Imperial War we should not be proud of because it had nothing to do with defending the bounds of Australia and now he won’t sign an item for a charity auction. Cheap skate cunt that he is.

So like Gough who had his arse kicked out of Australian politics and got the sack he is like a disgruntled school kid who had his lollipop licked and wont let anyone forget it. The fact is Paul you got into the job of PM through default, Hawkie left you got the gig and we had to suffer you. Gough got the arse and thinks he is some kind of folk hero. The fact is the Labour Party has turned a new corner, they realise the likes of the “larrikin” and trade union are no longer something intelligent thinking young Australians want for their future and if they try and bung it on they will get the arse. The bottom line is old pollies should keep their noses out of current affairs and go and hop on an ice berg and float themselves out to sea. So to Gough, I’ve been sacked before, I got over it, perhaps you should give up the ghost of Prime Minster past and to Paul, you are pompous arse wipe with a fancy hair cut. Enough said.