The Krud Diaries: Day 8

Dear Diary,

                   It is a balm to my sorely-tested heart to be back with you again, meine liebe.

However, having said that, I believe I have a responsibility to warn you that I am not in the best of moods tonight.

Even a preternatural being such as myself, possessed of an infinite reservoir or inner calm, cannot be expected to maintain an even keel when surrounded by incomPETENT FUCKING ARSEHOLES!

How the fuck, diary, am I expected to be a glorreichen Führer when I am assailed on all sides by inkompetent dickheads mit ihren Gehirnen in ihre verdammten Ärsche?

On one level, diary, I can understand the dummheit of minions and functionaries. We don’t select them for their brains, after all.

But what I don’t understand is the attitude of that Murdoch fucker!! I knew that trusting somebody called Rupert was a mistake.

What sort of stupid fucking name is fucking Rupert? Bears are called Rupert. Evil omniscient moguls who manipulate their multitude of minions to effect regime change are NOT CALLED FUCKING RUPERT!

He shook my hand. His minions loved me in 2007, so why has he turned on me, diary?

I haven’t changed. I am still the same incredibly popular, outrageously intelligent, calm, reflective fiscal conservative I have always been, so it can’t possibly be me.

The man is clearly unbalanced, wenn nicht ganz in den Kopf gefickt!

As for those other media morons? Diary, it is only my love for you - you being a reflection of myself – and my supreme self control, that prevents me from signing the excommunication orders.

If they were in FUCKING RUPERT’S thrall I could understand, but they have been MY lackeys and lickspittles for years!

All those years of leaking information to them about THAT WOMAN and what do I get in return?

I tell one little fib – in the national interest because I am the national interest – about The Abbott’s costings and I get questions.

I have been telling big lies for years and they have fallen over themselves to tell the world of the Gospel According to Krud without a problem, but I tell one little itty bitty lie now and they suddenly get all fucking OBJECTIVE on me.

And don’t even get me started on those backstabbing, turncoat weasel bureaucrats.

I know why they did it, diary. Oh yes, I know why. They think I’m going to lose and they are trying to suck up to The Abbott.

Well, they are fucking WRONG! Nobody tells Krud he is a loser. Niemand!!

The Treasury and Finance arschlöcher? They’ll keep. When I reign supreme they will be counting beans in the kitchen at the Enemies of Krud Re-education Camp No 1.

Bowen and Wong? They’ll keep, but not for very fucking long diary, I can guarantee that. I’m sick of being let down by inferiors.

Bowen will find himself treasurer of the Barcaldine Synchronised Swimming Association and as for Wong?

I forgave her for totally fucking up the Climate Change portfolio, but Kevin only forgives once. She’ll spend the rest of her days as book-keeper for the David Hicks’ Haemorrhoids Appreciation Society, WITHOUT authorisation to sign cheques!

What won’t keep is ficken RUPERT ficken MURDOCH and the ficken medien.

I gave the media fools fair warning today, diary. I let them know that Krud is displeased. Krud is disappointed. Krud is not fucking happy and Krud expects them to lift their game and put the blowtorch to The Abbott.

We shall see what we shall see, but I if I see any more of this objectivity shit the wrath of Krud will rain down.

After all, I wouldn’t have to lie my face off if my media drones had excoriated The Abbott as directed.

Do you see what I have done there, diary? I was angry, but my ice cool temperament and analytical mind have taken over and now I am calm.

Nothing can disturb my equanimity, nothing, that is, apart from that FUCKING moron Cameron.

How can he have a vote without ensuring the outcome first? The man is clearly a buffoon. Has he not heard of baksheesh? Has he not heard of Angst und Einschüchterung?!

Even That Woman was smart enough to throw enough Ratfucker money around to ensure that a bought vote stayed bought!

This Cameron fool has set a dangerous precedent. How can I run a malign dictatorship if he gives the little people in parliament ideas above their station?

A democratic VOTE? The man is mad!

Even worse, how the FUCK can I demonstrate my Save-The-World abilities without a Syrian fucking crisis?

Sigh. It is ok, diary. I am calm. My good friend Barry has backed himself into a corner and will look an even bigger fool if he doesn’t blast the shit out of something.

And my good friend Hollandaise, or whatever his name is, is itching to big-note himself. A good socialist, HE at least won’t fall for this democracy crap.

I must leave you now, meine Liebe. My campaign launch is just days away and I need to practice my cut, cut, cut and my jobs, jobs, jobs.

Notes to self: Find the cretin who suggested I use the word "fraud" and take appropriate action; sack the first person who so much as whispers the word 'Stalingrad'.