To mark the auspicious 66th day since Jacinda Ardern was sworn in, New Zealand's leading low-life computer hacker and shopping mall Santa, Lambshank, has plundered the private message inbox of the prime minister's Instagram account.
Mostly it's requests from fans for selfies or cabinet ministers for budgeting tutorials, but there were also these, which we publish today in the public interest.
From Winston Peters
According to the demonstrably unreliable so-called fourth estate, Winston Peters is under pressure for failing to honour an undertaking to release the 38-page coalition agreement. Balderdash and baloney. The agreement, which may or may not indicate Winston Peters' primacy in the instance of any vacancy in the prime ministership, have been reduced by my senior calligrapher to 33 pages. It is not even an agreement, it is notes, manuscript, a veritable cornucopia of minims, quavers and hemidemisemiquavers. They shall be reduced further, and further still, until they are inscribed upon a grain of gold, lodged within my molar, and released to the super moon through the medium of song.
From Shane Jones:
Yes, yes, I received your message on the "work for dole" appellation, etcetera, and I would say to you this: let not some trifling etymological skirmish belabour nor encumber our endeavours upon these one hundred days of fortitude, e hoa. For does not the mighty totara from seedling grow? I, too, was once a seedling, not yet ornamented by the tendrils and foliage of oratorical transcendence and so forth. May my many thousand benighted nephews, my wastrel ne'er-do-well nephs who gaze reverently up to their towering matua, may they too rise from their sofas and plant but one seedling and a billion trees just shall rise from the humble soils of Aotearoa, for so the Bible doth teach us, etcetera.
Enough is enough we stand up to you today Crime Minister stop poisoning our land our forest our heritage our minds WE WILL FIGHT FOR THE ROARING STAGS OF THE DAWN MIST against the TOXIC and TIMELESS injustices we will not PAUSE.
Just kidding, it's not a militant 1080 activist. It's me, Clarkey G! Caught a huge bloody marlin today, don't be alarmed, it's resting in the shub. Made some muesli. Pls pick up some milk.
From Melania Trump:
From Chris Hipkins:
The opposition continue to bombard us with dozens of written parliamentary questions requesting details of ministers' daily meetings. We've hit back hard by requesting clarification about what they mean by "meeting", and we intend to go back demanding elucidation on the definition of "details", and "we" and "human soul". The next tranche of responses will politely inquire, "I know you are but who am I?" Love governing, going great.
From Winston Peters:
According to the demonstrably perfidious so-called fourth estate, the hiked foreign ownership rules risk straining our relationship with China. To which I would suggest, with the greatest of respect, that these simple-witted featherheads consider the axiomatic words of geopolitical commentator Janis Joplin: La da da, La da da da, La da da da da da da da, La da da da da da da da.
From Rt Hon Sir John Key:
Gidday, your old mate Sir John here, with a friendly "hello", as you do. So I'm enjoying life post long-serving and beloved prime ministership. You know what they say, after the end of the day, cometh the knight, ha ha. Not following things closely but I catch the big interviews. I heard you on the ZM Fletch, Vaughan and Megan show the other day, talking about Ed Sheeran. Really good, actually. I mean, a bit sluggish to some of the punchlines but you'll get there!
So I'm not following things really, but just one thing, while I'm here, not a big deal, no dramas, but I did notice one of your new backbench MPs during Wednesday's evening session in the committee stage debate on the Electronic Interactions Reform Bill mentioned "John Key". And look that's fine, doesn't matter to me, give it and take it and all that, but maybe just worth reminding your newbies that strictly it should be the Right Honorable Sir John Key. Just mention that in passing. Take it easy!
From Prince Harry:
Kia ora, yeah? Harry getting hitched, yeah? Well wicked. Richie and Dan is both totally like, "sweet as bro", you know what I mean? They is like, "invite the PM she is well sick, yeah?" And your prince is like, "woah but aint she some whack socialist?" And they is like, "Yeah, bruv, toooootally, but she is well wicked," and Meghan, my bird, is like, "Jacinta! Qween!" and so anyway I am like: come to my wedding, please bring Clarke, he da man, you best both be ready to DJ, know what I mean.
Just kidding. It's not Prince Harry. It's me, Clarkey G, lol! This is really just to say I used up the plums in the deep freeze. Made a killer salsa to go with a crayfish cervice. In the Tupperware, top shelf. Delish, sweet, cold.
From Winston Peters:
According to the demonstrably mendacious so-called fourth estate, Winston Peters once said something mildly critical about that racquet sports rights advocate Susan Devoy. To which I say, you might have won a game or two of badminton, sunshine, but let's see how you get on single-handedly entering Pike River mine and liberating North Korea from tyranny. That's right. What I'm trying to say is: not all heroes wear capes, but it wouldn't hurt to get one in my size.
From Melania Trump:
Who is Clarkey? No, this is not Clarkey. This is Melania. Please help.
From Helen Clark:
Got yourself into a pickle over this coalition agreement, haven't you? No use crying. Move on. Very straightforward solution: torch the text, but not before archiving the thing for posterity by reading it aloud to a former senior politician. By which I mean Don Brash. In Maori.
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