Bananas are the new boat people. Inflation rises: blame the banana, interest rates go up: blame the banana, unemployment increases: blame the banana, erectile dysfunction: blame the banana.
What’s the betting there’s a tense standoff over a boatload of terrorist bananas trying to enter the country illegally during the next election campaign? Little Johnny stands firm against the yellow peril while The Bomber desperately tries to focus a mind that’s constantly wandering to thoughts of banana bread, banana muffins and banana splits with extra banana icecream and great big dollops of hot banana custard…
Anyway, since it looks like Pete’s going to be Treasurer for the forseeable future, he’s going to have a lot of banana-blaming to do for all the economic woes ahead (though that erectile dysfunction’s going to save him a fortune in baby bonuses). I don’t think anyone would begrudge the perennial bridesmaid slinging a little blame the way of the Big Bananaskin himself for the latest pratfall of his Quixotic tilt at The Lodge. After all, they don’t come any slipperier than the Right Honourable J. W. Bananaskin Howard.
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