ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
With not much else to do until the spring time, former Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce is catching up on his television this week.
One show that’s piqued his interest is Clarkson’s Farm, a show that follows popular British television personality Jeremy Clarkson in his quest to incinerate vast sums of money for comedic purposes.
“It’s great television,” Mr Joyce told The Advocate this afternoon during his bimonthly strategy chat with our newsroom.
“He’s such a useless prick, that Clarkson. God, he cracks me up. Watching him try to cart water through that creek. Oh man. How about that episode where he tries to vacuum blackberries off the hedgerows. I spat my cider on the rug when he did that. How in that episode where all the piglets get squished by their Mum in the ‘pigloos’ and everything,”
“He doesn’t know what to do, does he? You bloody put them in a stall, you idiot! God, it’s so funny.”
Mr Joyce laughed himself out and caught his breath.
“Do you reckon Stan or some shit would ever let me have a show like that? I think it would make for some compelling television. I’ve got all the cast members planned out in my head. That sensible Charlie bloke who runs the books, that would be Malcolm [Turnbull]. That crazy old lunatic that fixes the stone walls? Gerard? That’d be Katter. The chubby redhead that drives the tractor? Everyone under 35 in Walcha is a tubby redhead. I’ll have the pick of them. It would be great,” he continued.
“Barnaby’s Farm. I’d obviously have to keep the many arse doings from Clarkson’s Farm. Like, we’d have things like me going out to shoot a big roo for the dogs then accidentally cutting into the poo pipes when I’m hacking the back legs off. The pong clears a paddock it does,”
“Load up an [International] Acco with 14 tonnes of grain then film me drive it up to the silos with a Tooheys New stubby between my knees. Reverse it up to the auger no worries. That kind of stuff. Uniquely Australian Clarkson’s Farm. Going spotlighting, getting bogged, getting done DUI leaving the village pub. Having to drive without a licence for six months. Putting the ute in your wife’s name so the highway patrol don’t pull you over. Getting booted by big steers. Whacking your teenage layabout sons and nephews with poly pipe. Get up, you dough-banging cunts! Cutting about on AG200s, doing big jumps off contour banks. Kids smoking cigarettes and stealing alcohol. Doing yard work with lots of swearing. It would be rated R, just from the language,”
“This chat has got me all excited. Let’s make it happen.”
More to come.
