For the first time since he had to pretend he didn’t care about gay marriage or climate change in order to secure the support of the Liberals far-right faction, Malcolm Turnbull has found himself in the bizarre predicament of not being very well received by his fellow Eastern Suburbs neighbours.

While proudly wearing an old heavy T-shirt that Lucy found in storage at home, Turnbull says he’s glad that he still has a bit of the promo merch left around from his Ozemail days.


“I thought I threw all this stuff out when I made millions and millions and millions of dollars selling a business that mails CD-ROMs to boomers with instructions on how to use the internet.” he says.

“I’m so glad Lucy kept it. Even if she did throw out my brown leather jacket the moment I resigned”

With the afternoon sun blazing down on the grassy knoll at Bondi, The former Prime Minister is relishing in the opportunity to look like an everyday Joe or Jayden this afternoon – in his ‘t-shirt’.

He says this shirt is even made out of bogan silk, more commonly known as that “plasticky stuff they use in the football nowadays”.

However, his glorious pre-long-weekend arvo stroll takes a dastard;y turn very quickly.

An innocent walk down to Bondi Beach from his Point Piper residence would usually result in nothing but a few air kisses with the old Jewish ladies in Double Bay and maybe someone shouting him a Hahn Light at the North Bondi RSL – but not today.

Today he’s being heckled by motorists. And not the usual CFMEU emblazoned SS Utes.

Today he’s being heckled by men wearing Deus Ex Machina shirts while driving Range Rover. He’s being heckled by his own people.

Today, he feels like no one wants him around – which is a particularly foreign feeling, especially since he left politics over a year ago.

“GO AND FUCK YOURSELF!!” yells one passing car on Campbell Parade.

“Fuck Canberra!”

“Fuck all those inbred cunts!”

Malcolm sighs. He has to agree.


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