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Not being Scott Morrison

Not being Scott Morrison, and being the real Barnaby Joyce

I’m not pretending to be anyone else, I’m still wearing the same glasses, sadly the same suits, and I weigh about the same, and I don’t mind a bit of Italian cake either. So, I’m happy in my own skin.” (Scott Morrison pretending he’s not a pretender).

When you’re Scott Morrison you need to pretend that you’re not Scott Morrison

In Latin the name ‘Scott Morrison’ translates as ‘Gobshiteus Ad Nauseum’. OK, it doesn’t but it should. Morrison is, however, a human ambigram – a condition known as Zachary disease, a symptom of which is the discharges from either end being indistinguishable.

When you’re prime minister, you can’t pretend to be anyone else” effluviated the originator of the ScoMo® artifice in all of its manifestations:

Old mate

Sharkies tragic

Drinking buddy

Family guy

Bob the builder

Scotty next door

BroSco, messiah from the Shire


Bon vivant

Curry connoisseur

Stoic bushie gazing into the distance

Big rig truckie

Lab tech


Fighter pilot

Long distance swimmer

Team mascot

Tank commander

Trump whisperer

Defender of Aussie values

Father of the nation

On the tools tradie

Fiscal conservative

Big spender

Glorious leader

One of the boys

Insightful engineer (“...they won’t tow your boat, they won’t tow your caravan“)

Dog Lover*

Mark McGowan’s BFF

*insert cat as required to cover the bases

There is no escape from the stage managed appearances of this smarmy pillock in one of his many ScoMo contrivances. A flubbetered, be-moobed, crotch stained incontinent in his dress-up du jour who thought it a clever sledge to skinny-shame a trimmed down Albo. He’s a colourless dullard who thinks that just enough electors to matter are stupid enough to indulge his inane dress-ups when even Lib rusted-ons are rolling their eyes.

Awkwardly for Morrison his assertion of authenticity has simply highlighted his phoniness. Those that know him best said it best…

Image: The Twitterati

People may not agree with everything I have done but they know what I am about.” Unfortunately for Faux this is probably true but not in the way he intends it. His general uselessness has alerted the politically disengaged that what he’s about is photo-ops trumping substance, announcements substituting for delivery and that what he and his minders are all about is saturating a complicit media with stunts to distract from his habit of setting fire to his own head.

The shameless lying of this media whore has caught him out – it’s all on tape. The gullible, the lazy, the apathetic and the wilfully ignorant have had the real ScoMo rubbed in their faces via monumental failures in national crises so his fatuous marketing schtick and relentless bullshitting is blowing back in many and varied forms including many takes on his self-applied, asinine nickname:

Scotty from Marketing, Diddley Scott and Smorph

Spinocchio, Scurry, Smoko and Sir Smirksalot

Smirko, Smuggo, Smarmo and SloMo

Shirko, Sooty, Skiddy and Scooter

Scuttle, SchMo, FauxMo and Shithead

The odious prick has been fully exposed for who he really is to those who may have otherwise been inclined to ignore the obvious and now he’s in panic mode. Still, it is fun watching him shit himself. This time, in real time.

I may miss him when he’s gone.


Image from The Shovel


The best retail politician in the country

And so we move on to the B Team, the rustic oiks of the Nationals (t/a the Man-Coal Love Association) headed by a bloke who most of the nation gazes upon and, as with a penguin on a flag pole, wonders how the actual fuck he got there.

Image from

Fermented brewster Boozerby Joyce, the stool to Morrison’s dunce, red of face and blue of balls, has apparently earned his place at the pointy end of the bumpkin patch due to his focus on the bush. Having the intellect of plankton and the vocabulary of a Peppa Pig early reader must be essential attributes in the job description for these crem de la criminals for whom rorting is not a dodge but a credential.

Boozerby could detect the opening of a plain, brown envelope through a concrete wall so no-one is questioning his aptitude in that respect. What is a tad more challenging to understand is the appeal of his presence.

This boke is unburied landfill, he’s physical tourettes with the satorial elegance of an upended kitchen tidy. Culture is what grows between his toes, he has the coherence of gravel shaken in a rusty bucket and breath that should never be exposed to a naked flame. None of this reconciles the penguin/flagpole paradox.

Perhaps he’s just a reflection of his constituency. Rugged, self-reliant stoics always on the make for a hand-out. Big farmer, big polluters, water thieves, tree poisoners, pet abandoners, double parkers, seal clubbers, finger sniffers and those whose utes outnumber their books.

Perhaps it’s because Boozerby has overcome many challenges in his career, not least brewer’s droop. Perhaps it’s his personal contribution to employment opportunities within New England – of dry cleaners and designated drivers, divorce lawyers and Alco-lock beta testers, girlfriend placement agents and barmaids’ bodyguards.

Perhaps, gawd help us, it’s because he really is the best the Nationals have got.

* * * * *

The only good judgement either of these two have shown is that they hate each other.

This article was originally published on Grumpy Geezer.


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  1. Consume Less

    Well said Grumpy, what a pair of morons to ever hold office. Shame on Australia for ever electing these dimwits.

  2. pierre wilkinson

    but will you really miss him once he’s gone?
    i thought the same about the lying rodent,
    but they never really go away do they?
    thank you

  3. Phil Pryor

    Pathetic Morrison, a horrible self romancing actor, a believer in superself, the sausage for oscillation, is the most ridiculous neurotic liar since Caligula made his horse a tribune of the people. Believing that any selfish focus is reality, one of the poxes of extreme superstition, Morrison promotes and projects. In reality, the deepbrown turd has never ever worked, has lied and schemed, has failed in the lying game of advertising, has backstabbed, betrayed, bullied and bullshitted and yet has gone up the slippery pole to a high level of…utter ridiculous incapacity to assess himself as what he is, a skinful of untruthful, untrustworthy, uneducated SHIT. And, Australia has gone down, back, slow, limp and embarrassed…

  4. Jackie

    The funniest thing Ive read in a long time.😊 Bravo Grumpy Geezer.

  5. Canguro

    Accuracy plus; GG could moonlight as a psychoanalyst if he doesn’t already…’hmmm Scott, so you’re in marketing I see, well…. all I can suggest is that you kill yourself. Seriously. Do yourself a favour. Kill yourself. Honestly, it’ll help. You’ll feel much better for it.’

    ‘And Baaarnabee, this isn’t the right game for you. Surely you can see the toll that’s being exacted. People laugh at you behind your back, …. and to your face. It’s obvious… even flind Breddy can see you’ve got multiple personality problems; the drinking, the adultery & fornication, plus whatever passes for an intellect going rapidly down the sink… you’re in the wrong game boyo and it’s time to change. Why don’tcha pick up on the sheep rooting you told me about in that first session… you said you enjoyed it, the intimacy, the smell of the lanolin and the warmth of the wooly bits against your groin… surely it’s a better fit for you than the constant effort to appear normal amid the cut and thrust of the Canberran clique,… what you being a country lad and all. And people’ll love you more for your honesty and the courage shown in being your true self.’

  6. New England Cocky

    Ah GG … You’ve done it again!!

    However, you missed the label ”Scummo” from the list of pseudonyms labelling the least capable Prim Monster in Australian political history. Remember politics is like a septic tank ….. all the faeces float to the top!

    Sadly, I have to agree with your conclusion that the Nazional$ have nothing better to offer Australian voters than Barnyard Beetrooter, the adulterous, alcoholic, fornicating, misogynist, aka the Danglemah Dill. As I, and many others, have told him, he is just not good enough for the job.

  7. Terence Mills

    Morrison had a crack at Albo’s loss of weight and new suit and glasses : Morrison says that unlike Albanese, he is authentic, he doesn’t change, he hasn’t lost weight or bought a new suit – is that really something to be boasting about ?

    But if you look at the facts and the photos, as was noted elsewhere, Scomo has more wardrobe changes than a Ru Paul Drag-Queen !

    PS : that is not a slur on drag Queens, I think they are amazing.

  8. Gangey1959

    Too true, GG.
    “Team mascot” ? Yeah, I like the idea of scottyfromadvertisingandannouncements on a stick (pike), but seriously ?
    Australia’s deputy scumbucket is the walking, talking (yeah, it’s an overstretch), hat wearing definition of a Cowpat on the Gate-post. “Who put it there? Why did they put it there? Why on Earth has anyone left it there?”

  9. Harry Lime

    The Liar from the Shire,the ultimate fake,has hung around like the indescribable stench in a public shitter.I will not fucking miss him for a nanosecond.As for Barmy the fossil fuel has been widely reported that a horse he once rode asked to be put down…after the offending jockey..the crapulous cock fondler.

  10. Brad Black

    The most egregious ‘manifestations of the Sco Mo artifice’ would have to be the Prime Ministerial charade he employs just before an election – a parody of a PM.

  11. TuffGuy

    You left out a couple. Jerk with a Smirk is one, the other (you probably covered under ‘on the tools tradie’ but worth singular mention) is blind welder

  12. Frank Smith

    Thanks Grumpy – you nailed both of them. Made my Sunday!

    Could you also turn your considerable talents towards warmonger Dutton please.

  13. mrflibble4747

    Please add “ScoBlind” to the list. Great read!

  14. GL

    “The Grating Smugovski”
    “The Big Smirkowski”

  15. Peter F

    I believe that two reasons he is still there are that no-one else wants to be the loser, and HE believe his dog put him there.

  16. Geoff Andrews

    The penguin on top of the (greasy?) pole is one of your best , Grumpy.
    “How the fuck did it get there?”, I hear them murmurr. (open-mouthed, head-shaking, wonderment)
    I believe I have the answer: he’s got the most comprehensive dirt file on all of his “mates” and probably a few in the “liberal” party.
    Don’t forget: he’s an ACCOUNTANT !!

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