Me and Malcom

As an independently wealthy gentleman one has time to mull ones wine and time for massaging my svelte mustache, it also affords one time to think quite deeply about the world and politic that we live in…which reminds me my Barossa Valley delivery is due…though I digress, imagine my shock and horror when my Captain has been thrown overboard from my beloved Liberal ship…sadly the poor plebes of this grand country have no stomach for war, swimming in sluggo’s  or eating onions with skin on it, god only knows why…Tony Abbott was a man amongst men, quite like myself…more than happy to fight those minority communist greenies and those that like the company of girly boys…ooh I think I might wretch if it wasn’t for my bottle of Glenfiddich Scotch on hand… even though our great and noble leader has left the room, I still find the love in my heart and drive for glory with our new suave and extremely good looking  Mr Smooth….and dare I say uber rich,  Malcom Turnbull….though being rich and good looking is not everything…well truth be told…it pretty much is, as I can attest…So yes we may have a new Captain but the game is still the same…reducing my tax liabilities,  income divestment and tax free offshore investments…as the great man said…when the economies bad it’s time to invade another 3^rd world country....time for  a nap me thinks…. Tootily poops Tartly    

The Greenies and Bill short on brains

My skin feels very good at the moment, I think it has something to do with the milk baths I’ve been having, to soak in a wonderful golden bathtub makes one feel just like a baby in the womb…though I digress…these greenies and Bill Short on brains are running around the country scaring everybody that the world will end if we don’t start eating tofu burgers or Kale and spinach smoothies…hell my bowels would revolt over such an impertinent invasion. The truth be known, Tartly was raised on a breast for eight wholesome years(some of the best years of my astounding life)  and whence from there to a diet of red meat and oysters or foi gras ….which means to the uneducated a big fat goose liver…yum yum…as I was saying…if my robust iron like bowel could speak, which it has been known to on the odd occasion, it would say “if I don’t have to strain then there is no gain”…though apart from my hideous bout of royal like Hemorrhoids , which nearly killed me, (strange I never received a royal knighthood for that battle or at least a letter of admiration)…my stools have always been A1….though I digress…a man who lives by the sword must surely die by the sword, Winston Churchill a great man and one whom I greatly admire never ate a despicable vegetable in his life, and if ever there were a fit Adonis like specimen he is surely that man, so as I was saying, if we were meant to eat Brusselsprouts we wouldn’t have taste buds, because as everyone knows they taste god awful…proof in the pudding dear plebes.…which reminds me I can  feel a strained motion on the way…must go… tootily poops Tartly  

Bronwyn and her joy flight

Did you know that I prefer my brandy to be slightly chilled with a wonderful hint of mint, yes it sounds quite exotic and pray tell it comes from my time in the French Pyrenees when I was traversing the mountains with a donkey named Pedro and knap sack full of contraband(though that is a story for another day)  but that’s why I’m ahead of the plebes but let me not squander our precious time with my little interludes….it has come to my serious attention that there is a big hoo-ha about our stoic, well-groomed Speaker of the House, the darling of the peoples of this great country…the one and only Bronwyn Bishop. It appears that midget of a man, Shorten has this grand lady in his sights and will do his damnedest to drag her good name through the cow pats of this great brown land(pardon my witty pun), so to speak. One would think that a simple oversight by Bronwyn regarding a luxury helicopter, would hardly constitute a malicious tirade by these lefties…it was only a simple first class chartered helicopter flight to that godforsaken Geelong region for serious national business…a Liberal fundraising party….anyone with any brains would know that Geelong is so dangerous and full of drug addled bogans that it simply was not safe for Bronny to drive through that City to her crucial meeting. And surely a $5000 here and a $5000 dollars there is no big deal…I spend that on my Beluga Caviar every month at Raymondo’s and my buttock hair removal by a wonderful Asian lady in Double Bay, her soft hands are a joy to an elder statesman, though I digress…What gets my goat up is, if we the rich and entitled peoples of this country cannot rort the system a little then why bother invading 3^rd world countries…obviously what relevance does this have…I don’t really know…anyways,  Bronwyn has magnanimously repaid her debt and in my most of humblest opinions, our Lord, Tony Abbott should  immediately knight her as the beacon of honesty that we know she is…she deserves it…which reminds me…does anybody have a number for a good organic waxing salon….Tootily Poops Tartly

Renewable Energy Facade

As a highly respected, more senior, svelte Australian and one with a higher IQ than most of these communist red greenies, I feel more than qualified to espouse my great mind…yes I’m currently reclining in my Jason electric recliner with my Koala Fur Slippers and wonderful gold thread smoker jacket….though I digress…I am sickened to the core with the berating of our fine government and Lord Abbott in regards to this nonsensical renewable energy façade….let it be known no one knows more about renewable energies than me. I have saved my energy over the years and have barely cracked a sweat since the 1970,s and the reason being plain and infinitely simple…one has to pace oneself to save ones energy and that’s what is called renewable energy. I wake every morning with new energy and vim…I literally skip to the post box to receive my “life with the Royals magazine”, and “Monarchy or bust”, both superb publications that make you proud to be an Australian, though where was I…yes the point of the matter I’ve nearly lost…oh yes back to renewables…the reason why Wind Farms are so abominable is that they are so ghastly looking, they look like a boring windmill and they are the work of the red devil…yes if you look in any part of Russia you will see these confounded fans spinning round and round and if you look at them very carefully with a head tilted to the left and one eye closed into the sun, shock horror…you can see the hammer and sickle…yes my friends that’s the communist subliminal psychotherapeutic projection which will cause the fine peoples of this nation to turn mad and vote Labor or worse still, green and let’s not forget that incessant humming noise they make. That noise and wave frequencies interferes with my Parliament House broadcasts….confound them, and if your record the whine from the turbines and play them backwards you will hear “Yanni” a skinny malnourished Greek electronica musician(that’s a disgusting vile thing indeed)time for another Gin and Tonic. And don’t get my taut blonde Coiffure all het up about that wretched solar power thingyamebob…only a wet behind the ears, scientific come academic,fraud would think that solar panels are as sexy as an electric coal power station…all that dust and noise with loads of steam, it certainly gets one aroused on all levels. Let it be said that no one will ever have an erection over a solar panel on the roof of a Metricon house…never…but Bayswater or Eraring that’s another story…which reminds me, I think it’s time for Tartly to relieve himself .… Tootily Poops

Mine Queens Birthday

Tartly has a deep dark secret to confide…..yes  he has a spring in his step and a song in his heart this time of year….ooh im excited…yes  excited because as you know it’s that wonderful ladies birthday this weekend and not only being our wonderful monarch and ultimate commander in chief, our queen has the power to make the discerning decision of who will be a lord or lady, and thankfully it’s not handed out willy nilly to any nobbinses, god knows I’m deserving of a title, the service to this great country of ours and foreign posts over the years. In fact if truth be told, the young spritely Tartly quite fancies her highness and wouldn’t be above challenging her bumbling buffoon of a husband a few rounds in the ring(even though he’s a whisker off being in a coma), some might be surprised to know that I am quite a fleet of foot in the art of pugilism, (yes that’s the art of boxing for you ingrates). Yes that reminds me of when I travelled through the deep dark continent on a camel with a  turban on my scone and working undercover for this countries secret of secret organisations….ASIO…yes, say that in hushed Swahili tones…espionage work is extremely dangerous and not for the weak or soft brained. There I was undertaking surveillance of an obvious infidel when unbeknownst to me I was struck roughly and fell from my steed, yes a camel is a lot higher to fall than a damned horse…though I digress…there I was wrestling and grappling with this infidel when suddenly all of my special training came back to me….no I didn’t start dancing like a butterfly and sting like a bumble bee…no…thankfully I had an old Colt Pistol my daddy gave me for my Sixth birthday and I shot first and asked questions later…well truth be known, a dead camel tells no stories if you know what I mean…but I digress…back to my loveth of our beloved Queen…yes I will be celebrating my proverbial tight svelte buttocks off down at our private club this weekend….and if Madam should have the wisdom to acknowledge my great service and sacrifice I would graciously accept an OBE and or Lordship…so till then…god save the queen and bottoms up….Tootily Poops Tartly   

Wedded Bliss

Never before have i been so shocked and confused...Tartly doesnt scare very easy and has been known to have confronted some very serious situations over the years...just like the time when i was holed up in a dreadful hotel in India during the heady 70's,  whilst on secondment for the Australian Government in Calcutta, here was Tartly faced with the dire siutation of no soap and a drinks bar that had no Glenfiddich Scotch Whiskey, yes i was wild and rampaging like a wounded bull...how dare they think that a man of my culture could survive without a lovely milk soap on my fair english skin or a wiskey that is smoother than a babies bottom with a touch of ice...was it too much too ask....i think not...no wonder we left that hell hole after they wanted to defrock the Grand English sewing machine(Singer) for a cheap copy from Czechoslavakia...though i digress....it has come to my esteemed attention that there are so called men in this country that are wanting not only to kiss each other...shock , horror but want to enter wedded bliss....i dont know where i must have been sleeping but since when have good looking strong men wanted to kiss other good looking strong men...i've never heard of such balderdash....what these men need are a good thrashing with a Cat O Nine Tails or to be sent to do some manly things, like fight a war in Afghanistan on horseback...maybe a war on terror, why not join a gentlemans football club and play fullforward for a season or two...mark my words there'd be  no bottom slapping going on there...maybe even take up El Greco wrestling with all those oil lathered bodies and tight grips...they didn't call them the full nelson for nothing...yes that was after one of my great forebears...Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson...now there was a man if i ever knew one....but let that be a story for another day....no kissing men there...though i feel i  digress...let me say this' when our beloved Commander in Chief...Lord Tony Abbott hears of this madness of men kissing men and getting married...he will raise the stakes like a lone poker shark in that den of eniquity,  Las Vegas....no,mark my words, there's only one institution that can bring a grown man or boy to his knees....the Catholic Church....now there's a wholesome, god fearing, manly institution if we ever had one in this great country of ours....yes the Catholic church, though i cant stand the pope, he  will surely  rectify the situation(pardon the disgusting pun) of this so called marriage equality saga.....hopefully by the time Tartly's afternoon nap passes, it will all have been just a bad dream....till then ....tootily poops Tartly   ,

The Pacific Cruise solution

As i sit back and enjoy a stiff hand crafted Martini whilst lounging upon my most expensive Chesterfield....i think of all those boat loads of people who are trying to penetrate(emphasis on penetrate) our robust defences to set up shop here and make their fortune opening Kebab shops or driving taxis. Many rich people are worried, but i have no fear, thats why we have the Australian Navy, to protect us from these very dangerous foreign threats.As a rich person i would find it totally unacceptable that like an unwanted guest at a wonderful 4 hour luncheon, these peoples arrive, uninvited trying to eat our gorgous truffle patte. Yes i accept that some maybe in fear for their lives or suffered immeasurable torture and suffering but how can Tony Abbott be sure they aren't Chinese spies who have had facial surgery to look like Afghani tribesman or  Syrian rug traders ....If everyone who wanted to come here made a proper booking and could wait 2 or 3 years for an interview we could then determine who were world class weight lifters or great batsmen then with a small deposit....say of $500,000 Australia dollars we  could help them escape persecution on a  Qantas kangaroo.....obviously if some of them possessed an amazing sporting ability that could help us win an Olympic gold medal or some world title,   obviously we could fast track that person into this great country of ours. The last thing this great country of ours needs are people with personal issues , no money, no love of the monarchy and whom think that freedom from persecution a god given right. Time for another Martini, yes as i was saying if we listened to those green unwashed communists and labor bully boys they'd have us adopt a compassionate and humane approach and join the United Nations Human Rights Commission. In my humble and wise opinion it might pay the plebes and non intellectuals of this world to think about this one serious fact....if there were no refugees and troubles in this world then the human rights commission would not have a job, yes thats right, and so by dragging refugee boats back to whence they come from we are helping keep the UNHRC employed and thats all thanks to this forward thinking Liberal government, lead by our man of iron...Tony Abbott....lets not forget unemployment is allegedly hell...though i digress...me thinks i can feel another cricket world title coming our way very soon, if we can get some refugees from England or New Zealand..... tootily poops Tartly        

The Budget

The budget is something as an intellectual ,I take very seriously....Tartly,s father Lord Byron of Montegu would always espouse the following, remember Tartly these two things in life....firstly death is final and the second, once the soufflé has risen it will rise no more. Yes I always pondered those wise words from the Great wise one and carried that with me on this journey of life. Budgets are like soufflés....not everyone likes them...in fact i abhor them....real men prefer meat or something that has died violently...if there's no blood how can we espouse our manliness....Spartacus wouldn't have eaten a salad or tofu burger... Though I digress....the do gooders whinge and whine about Lord Abbots budget...these communists want us to share the wealth, God forbid that this would ever happen, if we did that then there wouldn't be a rich and poor, the have and the have nots...that's why our two tier system works so well....we have our place and they have there's,preferably not in our double bay...Which reminds me why hasn't Tony Abbott been made a proper Lord yet, God knows he deserves it  for supporting our wonderful monarchy and saving this great country from the abyss of Labors errant ways. No Tony Abbott is a true visionary and has the uncanny ability to understand the philosophical intricacies of global fiscal economics and dare i say a good friend to the cause of coal mining... Which reminds me it may be time to offload some dirty bricks. How  that  Pygmy of a man ,Bill Shorten could try and wrench my hard earned offshore investments  to pay taxes and as such is an affront to any wealthy elitist such as my good self. Luckily I sit in my chaise lounge supping my mulled wine with aubergine pate trying to calm my nerves from this horrendous fiscal attack ,whilst my wealth grows expedidentially of course. Yes the budget can be a real bastard and I choose to suffer in silence tootily poops Tartly

Why we need poor people in our lives.

Let me first say i have no intention of having a poor person in my life...simply because you cannot enjoy oneself hearing the miseries of those that dont have independent wealth and drive old cars. But let me say this, one cannot truly enjoy ones wealth without having some poor people in your vicinity, this doesn't mean that in any way  i want those poor people living near me, but i do enjoy observing from a distance the struggles of the plebes. Simply we wealthly, need poor people to feel good about ourselves, Once i travelled to Monaco...what a terrible holiday, all these super rich people lauding themselves here and there, it was just sickening, i was virtually ignored, as if my wealth was insignificant. A lot of Non English peoples in Monaco too, i thought we british invaded them many centuries ago but obviously not well enough. Anyway i couldn't wait to get away from the Monacans and get back to lovely Sydney where poor people abound. Yes never let it be said that i dont care for the poor people, because thats definitely not true....more power to them, as long as they stay poor....tootily poops Tartly