Senator Pauline Hanson is on the rise and good gracious, is she inescapable.
Hanson is in the media everywhere, going from outrage to spite to vitriol in her press conferences and stunts, but much of Australia wonders, what does she actually fill her time with in between?
Independent Australia has taken up the responsibility of emailing Hanson for her daily schedule and this is what we received:
Dear Independent Australia,
Though you are lefty lunatics, I have provided my schedule in the hope you actually do some honest reporting. See below:
A day in the life of Pauline Hanson
6 AM: I wake up for another beautiful day in the lucky country, but I don’t use the past tense of wake because I'm anti-woke and wokeism is killing this country.
6:15 AM: I have Vegemite on white bread for breakfast every day. My mates call me “the Wonderwhite”! Because it's my favourite bread brand, of course. Isn't that cute?
7 AM: Time to pick an outfit. Now I have not one but two burqas in the wardrobe. Don't tell anyone, but they’re great for swanning around the house with nothing on underneath.
8 AM: I put on my face and tell a few numpties on Twitter to “go back to where you came from” which feels ahhh, delicious. I can say that because I was born here, so I’m Abodiginal.
9 AM: I arrive at work. Receive my cup of tea. Yes, I take it white. Oh, very funny. It’s okay to be white.
10:30 AM: It’s a sitting day so I wander down to the Upper House to heckle the non-White senators with my famously disturbed, shaky, quavering voice. A bill on euthanasia comes up, but as everybody knows, I’m opposed to youth in Asia. I’m opposed to old in Asia, I’m opposed to middle-aged in Asia, I'm opposed to Asia Asia Asia.
12:30 PM: Lunchtime and I get some pals together for yum cha. I see no problem with that.
2 PM: Gina rings asking whether I’m free for drinks and nibbles with some potential donors on her private jet. Yes, please! Champagne and cabanossi for me! She’s just so nice and asks for only the odd favour in return.
3 PM: Time for media as I call into 2GB. “Gangs, everywhere!” I say. It's a scary life being me, as I fear going to public toilets in case there’s a trans person in there making a trans gang.
3:30 PM: I get an email from a constituent complaining about LGBTIQA+ something or other. I don’t know what this means, so I’ve been doing some decoding and I’ve figured out the I stands for Islam, the A for Asians and the plus for even more of them! Heavens to Betsy, I need something to calm the tum.
5:30 PM A nice early steak dinner with the George Foreman grill and my pal, Barnaby. We chat tactics and how to piss off the lefties. Meal ruined when we realise the meat is ha… ha… halal.
6:30 PM: I arrive home to go into a drooling trance watching Sky News. That Andrew Bolt is a good-looking fellow, isn’t he? Is he married, because finally, a hunk of Aussie beef that is definitely haram.
8 PM: It’s time to pop on my nightgown. It’s white and flowing, with a matching pointy cap.
9:30 PM Sleepy time for Pauline! I switch on the nightlight, as I am scared of the dark and I drift off wrapped in my Aussie flag.
How’s that for a satisfying day contributing to the life of the nation? Like IA would ever know, you bloody lefties haven’t worked an honest day in your life.
Yours spitefully,
Pauline
Olly Moore is a poet, writer and satirist from Sydney.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Australia License
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