Season’s greetings true Australians. You know who you are, but more importantly, you know who you aren’t.
Christmas Nationalism One Nation style
On this holy day we celebrate the birth of a small brown baby boy. Born in a filthy manger to two suspicious Middle Eastern parents travelling without visas, Mary and Joseph. History’s first documented illegal migrants, sneaking across borders under cover of starlight.
If I had been in charge of Bethlehem’s immigration department, that manger would have been wrapped in red tape faster than you could say “Go back to where you came from.”
But here we are. And so the persecution continues cheerfully, festively, just as the good Lord would want.
As I wrap myself in a glittering array of Australian flags, stitched by the hardworking elves of Guangzhou, the true spirit of patriotism floods my icy veins. It has been a truly blessed year for my One Nation family.
Barnaby Joyce joins the circus
We welcomed the new Ambassador for Uselessness: Barnaby Joyce. Terrified of becoming an easily answered trivia question (name one useful thing Barnaby ever did), he wisely hitched his wagon to my unstoppable juggernaut of grievance. He’s already placed his bulk order for flags, express shipped from Shenzhen.
And what a Christ-like role model he is. A champion of family values, even if those families multiply in mysterious, HR-investigated ways.
Malcolm Robert’s – not a fan of facts
We mustn’t forget our long-serving decorative gnome, Malcolm Roberts. Kept mostly in the box at the end of my bed, he only emerges to argue against facts, common sense, and anyone with a functioning brain cell. As his arch nemesis Brian Cox once crooned: “Things can only get better.” For Malcolm, that’s a terrifying thought.
Looking ahead to 2026? After a year of partying with her elites, Jacinta Price will return to her grassroots calling, scolding the other elites. And together, she, Barnaby, and myself will form a shining ménage à trois of being a drain on the public purse and questionable moral flexibility.
Sorry Malcolm, it’s a tight fit under the political mistletoe.
So from my heart, Merry Christmas Australia. May your pavlovas rise higher than my polling numbers.
What part of the Christmas story do you think Pauline would deport first — the wise men, the donkey, or the infant refugee himself? 🎄👀
