ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A socially-popular local roadworker brought the tent down at smoko this morning with his impression of an overweight property investor complaining about losing money on a Betoota Heights display home.
Pulling the skin down under his chin and blowing his gut out, Damien Haynes crab-walked around the area in front of the smoko tent on the side of the Diamantina Access Road while his coworkers egg him on.
“Oh no! My multi-million dollar investment is now only worth a single million dollar investment! Wah! Wah! Wah!” he said.
“Please Mr Frydenberg! I’ll suckle from your big, pikelet-sized Victorian nipples if you save me and my six houses! Help! Wah! Wah!”
Even Damien’s supervisor was getting in on it, wiping tears from his round Catholic cheeks.
“Please Mr Frydenberg! I voted for you! Wah! Wah!”
The reason why Damien started this charade in the first place was that the council’s grader driver was recording a story he’d heard over the weekend from his ‘fucking’ brother-in-law who is apparently wealthy as all get out.
He was whinging and moaning about buying into the market at the wrong time, about how he shouldn’t have to apologise because his parents are comfortably wealthy from owning a number of car dealerships in the area and were able to help him into the real estate market.
“You’d hear the cunt go on and on about it,” said the grader driver.
“Fucking cry me a river you mango-headed bitch, I can’t even afford cigarettes anymore. Let alone some house.”
That’s when Damien chimed in.
“Nah, it’s your fault, mate,” he said.
The grader driver looked at him and squinted.
“You see, you found yourself entering the world in a public maternity ward in Betoota Ponds.”
The grader driver corrected Damien and said he was actually born on the side of the Birdsville Development Road under a boree tree. His birth certificate reflects that.
“Anyway, none of us own a home because most of us are under 35 and we were born in the wrong postcode to people just like us now but 35 years ago, do you follow?”
Some nodded.
“Look, boys. I wouldn’t feel bad about being broke and not having a mortgage and so on, the housing market now is hyperinflated and the prices now are just ridiculous and the bubble is about to burst and people are staying that’s going to be bad but I might just be an unskilled roadworker but it’s got me fucked how that can be a bad thing. Imagine if we could buy a house in town big enough for a family for like $100 000? You’d only have to save up 20 or so and then you’d have every lender in down lining up outside your door begging for your business,” said Damien.
“I just wonder why it would be a bad thing if the prices came down? Like it would make the lives of millions of window-licking country boys like me a whole lot better, you know?”
All nodded – then Damien went back to pretending to suck on the Treasurer’s nipple.
More to come.
