For the last several months there hasn’t been a lot of activity on Robbo’s parliamentary website (see adjacent Genius Thy Name is Robinson). In fact, there’s been none. But Robbos’ been sweating it out in the caravan in his singlet and undies, two finger typing an update to let us know of his elevation (that means “promotion”, Robbo) to the Ministry (that’s all those blokes and lady blokes who meet in that room with the big table).
Sadly he hasn’t been in the news much either. Probably been too busy hooking up the new gas bottles or hanging out at the shower block canvassing opinion on the wisdom of introducing soap on a rope to prisons. “Hmmm…no more bending, you say”.
He’s in the news now. Premier #!!*%!#, says Robbo can’t be expected to work in a caravan park. And he’s right. Carnies are distracting enough at the best of times, but when you’re a special Minister of State and you’ve got to do all that reading, the thunk of stubby on cranium from the next van must be intolerable.
However, it’s not the van that’s the problem, it’s the van’s location.
The solution is obvious and the parallels of history make it not only the best but the right solution at the right time.
During the last great depression the Domain was a haven for homeless men. So I say, let’s sell off the Parliamentary Annex to the developers and issue all our representatives with a nice van up on chocks in the Domain. The budget bottom line will be boosted, the pollies would be setting us an example of frugality and we’d all benefit from the resurgence of the indomitable spirit of the ‘30s.
My only question is - Why hasn’t Robbo thought of this already? He’s smart enough to think of this all on his own.
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