I've largely disconnected from news about the upcoming election because 1) I know how I'm voting and 2) if I have to see another Clive Palmer ad on the telly I'm going to throw a brick at it.
Also, remember that I can have noisy politics, but I'm trying to be restrained. Noisy politics can be boring for other people, of this I am very aware.
But I will say, yesterday, as I was in Caulfield, I really wish I had a texta / sharpie / permanent marker (whatever you want to call them).
You see, walking along Bambra Road, I spot this.
This man has a punchable face. His face is almost as punchable as Peter Dutton's.
Horrible human being.
But then there you go.
And this is not Blockers Road, Myponga in the 1980s where there are very few cars and you could quite happily deface Alexander Downer's election posters with cow dung or by draping fishnet stockings over them. This was pristine, well-to-do conservative Caulfield. In the middle of the day. You don't deface posters in the middle of the day on a busy road.
And, if you deface a LNP poster, like warts and grey hairs, three more will pop up in their place.
So, instead of throwing good money after bad and pouring coffee over dear old Dim Tim, I restrained myself. (Yes, I know that was the name for another Liberal politician, but he was in the State Government and then got booked for drunk driving after being on a crusade about government standards and he since has crawled back from under the rock from whence he came.)
Anyway, I'm going to do here what I wanted to do yesterday, but as I'm a good woman, I refrained.
Do you like this look?
Or this one?
Or this one?
Or, of course, there is the gold standard in defacing political posters.
But I'm a grown up.
I don't deface political posters anymore.
(Thankfully, I'm not in the electorate of Goldstein. If I was I'd be handing out how to vote cards for the standing Teal member. She's grouse. Not some middle-aged white dude with delusions of grandeur.)
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