ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
According to those in the know, Barnaby Joyce is only days away from becoming the Deputy Prime Minister. Another spill is imminent.
But the pigeons of Canberra don’t discriminate, they eat anybody’s unguarded lunch.
And Mr Joyce learned that the hard way today after coming out of the pissers at the Kingston Hotel this afternoon to see a mob of pigeons eating his lunch out on the patio area.
“Fuck!” yelled Barnaby.
His arms up in a shooing motion.
“Get out of here, you sky lobster bastards! Go on, get!”
As the pigeons scattered, Barnaby looked down at what was left of his nachos and crispy skin chicken burger and swore again.
“Fuck me,” he said softly.
Just as he sat back down at the table, his friend Matt Canavan came out of the bistro doors with a sensible medium prosciutto pizza.
Spooked by the pigeons, he fumbled his lunch and watch it fall on the floor.
He looked over at Barnaby and told him to stop eating the leftover chips from his plate.
“Yuck, Barnaby! Weren’t a mob of pigeons licking those just before?”
Barnaby nodded and looked up.
“The hunter has become the hunted,” he said.
“They still taste OK.”
More to come.
