Forget Antony Green; I am a genius and I’ve got this Psephology bullshit down pat.
And from my vast intellect let me predict the results of this year’s Australian Federal Election.
But before I tell you, let me outline my methodology. For one can only believe a carpenter by the quality of tools he uses.
I have studied the ruminations of all the prophets and pundits. The divinations of the religious, the spiritualist, and all the Swamis.
I split the entrails of numerous household pets; splayed them across my kitchen table and read the portents.
I applied all the latest scientific techniques.
My own Grandmothers secretions; I boiled them and drank.
I was in a trance. Danced naked at the full moon. Howled at the stars and bleed myself dry.
All during this time the numbers were being tallied in my thoughts. The swinging voters swung in front of my eyes. Naked and not ashamed they were, their voting intentions becoming plainer as my investigations took my furthur on.
And so it was, after a night of complete debauchery and drugs I awoke with my penis compass pointing northward and the election result clear in my mind.
It’ll be Malcolm Turnbull new Australian President.
I give you my word on this.
New Guinea Highlands