A White House

Posting has been reduced to a trickle of late. The cabinet has undergone a series of serious geographical changes and time has been a hot commodity. My loyal Chief of Staff has gone trans-pacific and is now reporting (any day now) from Sunny California, while my missing Finance Minister has long since relocated to Dreary Old England. Meanwhile, in pursuit of the Australian Dream, I’ve uprooted the First Lady and we’ve headed west: the White Unit has been upgrade to a White House.

My change of venue in particular has brought a heightened sense of realism to many aspects of social policy that have long been an annoyance. Clearly, President-In-Waiting doesn’t pay anything like it should, so I’m now the proud owner of a mortgage I can’t afford. I also commute, like a sucker, via City Rail’s poorly run, shambles of a rail network. To ice the cake, The First Lady is quietly incubating a Presidential Heir, highlighting the meager allowances given to child bearing folk in our society in terms of maternity leave, child care and health cover. The whole affair has made me want to be President more than ever.

So, it starts again, with renewed vigour. The good people at Commonwealth Bank are On Notice – after mercilessly screwing me, while claiming to be “Determined to Be Different”. Don’t even get me started. City Rail has also made the list – though I’m hopeful that the fall of the Iemma Government will mean that the motto changes from “Ineptitude, it’s what we do”. Catchy. I’m also gunning for Big Pharma and our crumbling health care system – the lessons of Sicko are not lost on me, as they are on our present leaders. My mahogany desk, and faux seal are in place and the time for posting invective has returned.