Mandy Nolan’s Soap Box: Bad Boy Barnaby

Poor baby Barnaby. He’s in twuble. He’s been a very, very naughty boy, caught with his political pants down, his cock in the cookie jar. It’s become evident that Mr ‘Family Values’ seems to value families so much he was attempting to have two at the same time. Double the value.

This whole Barnaby Joyce sex scandal has been very illuminating. We now know why Barnaby wasn’t in support of same-sex marriage: It wasn’t because he was homophobic or scared of the queer community, it was because he wasn’t having the same sex anymore. No more Mr married missionary man, for a few months Barnaby has been a sex god, sticking it to his much younger and considerably more attractive staffer. Ooh, the power of being the big bad bossman. And it’s clear he was working really, really hard. Late at night. In the nude.

What happens in Canberra stays in Canberra – right? Wrong. But is everything really as it seems?

Sources tell me that in defence of the Tamworth twit, he wasn’t rooting, he was researching. There he was tirelessly putting in the hours for his upcoming… (ooh did you say coming?) publication Bad Boy Barnaby’s Tantric Sex Manual for Flaccid Nationals.

The party has always been a bit on the limp side, so Barnaby wanted to show his party how to go the distance. How to get close without ever coming. I mean, isn’t that the story of being in the National Party? Always the Bridesmaid, never the Bride.

But now the whole project’s been blown out of the water. Barnaby’s clearly been very keen on blowing stuff – he’s been doing it a lot over the last 12 months. And boy has he blown it this time.

Barnaby hasn’t just cheated on his wife; he’s cheated on his country. By fucking his staff member he’s not only fucked his career, his reputation, his family; he’s fucked the nation. And some of us weren’t really in the mood to be fucked by Barnaby. That’s not a face I want to see on the pillow next to mine every morning no matter how many times he says ’Sorry’.

Barnaby must be sitting at home in jim jamas wondering why him? Why now? Haven’t powerful men always had sex with their submissives? After all, what’s the point of being powerful if you can’t shag your staff? It’s not inappropriate, it’s just part of some in-depth appraisal needed for upcoming performance reviews. ‘Very efficient, excellent negotiation skills; however, needs to refine communication skills. Good worker, but lacklustre in the suck department.’

It’s clear that in parliament, unlike other workplaces, getting in the sack won’t get you the sack. I mean, isn’t penis stimulation by the young and perky one of the perks? Wasn’t Tony Abbott rumoured to be in bed with Peta Credlin? John Gorton with chief of staff Ainsley Gotto or Jim Cairns with his chief of staff Junie Morosi?

Barnaby, Barnaby. Is this karma for rejecting Amber Heard’s puppies? And what now for the Hugh Hefner of the Nats?

I wonder how long his beautiful young girlfriend is going to hang around once he is flushed out of politics like the big stinking turd that he is. Because it’s only a matter of time before he goes from powerful to pathetic. It’s going to be hard to keep those aphrodisiacal juices flowing when the bloke you’re riding goes from deputy prime minister to prime loser.

You’d think if you were a media adviser, which is what Barnaby’s love interest Vikki Campion was, you’d advise him not to have sexual relations with the staff. But what if this is all part of a much bigger plan – a kind of social media juggernaut planned by Joyce and Campion to remarket our part-time PM as a porn star? A kind of Trump-esque DICK –TATA. ’Cause he does look like a potato.

And he is a dick. Maybe that’s how he’s going to fund his grab for the top job. With the millions of downloads of his yet-to-be-released sex tape. Vikki Does Tamworth… and the block-busting electorate erection smasher, about how to get your member up The Joyce of Sex.