Groom Of The Stool
Take your brown-nosing to a new level.
Are you an obsequious apple-polisher, a bag-carrying sycophant, a forelock-tugging toady, a lick-spittle? Do your pantaloons have shiny knees, do you lack all self-respect?
Then the Royal House of Windsor has an opportunity for you.
Formalise your kow-towing skills - apply now, but be quick, this role is in huge demand.
Applications from the colonies will be well regarded.
There is hope for Australia. The derision that greeted Tony Abbott, our then Idiot In Chief, with his bizarre knighting of Liz Winsdor's consort was strident and almost universal. The Blunder Bus of Abbott's obsequious kakocracy was run off the road and Republicanism was revived.
Then Harry and his new missus turned up on our shores. The boot-licking, hysterical reception was vomitously cringeworthy. The fawning adoration has humiliated our country. A country where Jack is supposedly as good as his master, where we sit in the front of taxis next to the driver. Oz, the egalitarian home of the tall poppy syndrome. Then this, FFS!
The monarchy may be entirely symbolic for practical purposes but it's symbolic of a country where no Australian can be head of state, where we are all subservient to the inherited privilege of an outrageous class system; consigned to the lowly ranks of colonial hoi polloi, obsequious receivers of baubles and trinkets at best where should our own Prime Minister dare to even touch our head of state it is met with out-raged howls of indignation by scornful, snooty Poms doing what they have always done - looking down their noses at us.
Meritocracy before monarchy! The Royals have now left our fair shores behind, let's now leave the Royals behind. Pun intended.
Get fair dinkum Australia. Get off your knees and regain some self-respect.
Join the fight - join the ARM