. . . sworn in and raring to go.
Over the last decade, we’ve had more Prime Ministers than clean knickers. Kevin Rudd, Julia Gillard, Kevin again, Tony Abbott, Malcolm Turnbull, and now Scott Morrison.
On Monday, Malcolm himself called for a spill in an attempt to defeat an imminent challenge from Peter Dutton. He won, but only by a small margin, so a demand for a second spill was anticipated. Our doughty Malcolm was not going to give in gracefully, so he set a couple of difficult conditions on Peter D, for a meeting to be held today (the last day such a meeting could be called for a couple of weeks – don’t worry about why).
To his surprise, and chagrin, the conditions were met, and the meeting held. A second spill was approved by vote, but only just, 44 to 40 I think, and lo and behold there were three candidates on the ticket. They were Peter D (pushy, right wing, youngish ex policeman), Scott Morrison (“ScoMo”, middle-of-the-road, 50 years young) and Julie Bishop (62, vastly experienced Foreign Minister, known and respected by many colleagues around the world, Deputy Party Leader and in both positions for many years, middle-of-the road, described by some as “Turnbull in a skirt”). The pundits mostly said JB should win, but that PD probably would, because she was another pesky woman.
So whaddyaknow? ScoMo walked it, and another lad won the deputy leader job (JB didn’t stand for that, this time).
So Malcolm has resigned his commission to the G-G, and as soon as ScoMo gets sworn in (by the G-G), he’ll be head honcho. Talk about revolving doors. 😎
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