ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
Fed up with his base-level of anxiety that’s largely consumed his life for the past 18 months, a locked-down Sydney man has taken the novel approach of throwing his television from his 11th story balcony before the NSW Government 11am press conference.
Glenn Clark was born and raised in our cosmopolitan desert republic but thanks to intergenerational failures of government, the 28-year-old has been forced, like many other country boys and girls, to move to the city in order to find professional employment.
Because God hates him and enjoys inflicting cruel and unusual punishments on Glenn, he lives in Sydney.
Each day, he tells The Advocate, he wakes up and logs onto his work server around 9 and waits for some 68-year-old boss of his to try to figure out how to do the same.
And after three cups of coffee, he’s ready to turn the television on to see how bad things have gotten and to hear the lies that the state’s leaders have to say.
“I mean, the reporters ask them a question and they flat out don’t even answer it. They just jibber on and when the reporter tries to interject, they just tell them to stop talking over their answer,” said Glenn.
“It’s just jibberish. Nothing that comes out of Gladys Berejiklain or John Barilaro’s mouth means anything. It’s just shit. I mean, no wonder people in the fucking city aren’t listening to them anymore,”
“Nobody respects them. Nobody respects them because they just come on TV and tell lies. If they just came on TV and told it like it is, they’d be much better off in terms of getting people to follow the rules,”
“All those clowns had to do was put their hand up and own the mistakes they made. You know, ‘Sorry guys, should’ve listened to Dr Chant but instead, we just poured a can of creamed corn over her head and called her Doctor Dork during a Cabinet Meeting’ or something like that,”
“Instead, we’ve just seen this pathetic buck-passing that’s essentially the root of all the problems. There’s no accountability.”
Glenn then let out a long sigh that only a Queenslander trapped down in Sydney can do.
“But it’s not like I can do anything about it,” he said.
“So this morning, I got up and did my stretches then threw my television off my 11th story balcony. The wind caught it a bit and it sailed out onto the road and landed on a car,”
“You know, I thought I’d killed someone so I went down for a bit of a peek and low and behold, it was a council car so it looks like those parking rangers are walking back to the depot. What a fucken result.”
More to come.