🐶 WHY DO ALL POLITICIANS HAVE CRUSTY DOGS?

I'm wigging out

Good morning fellow citizens,

Or should I say, bark barkbarkbark, barkbark barkbark bark.

Keen-eyed employees of the FROOMESWORLD franchise will have noticed a significant gearshift these past few months.

The content factory we call home has revamped the production line, and now in lieu of Shrek content, we have chihuahua propaganda.

It’s a shift I couldn’t have predicted, even though I’m the one cranking the cogs.

this dog is smoking a ciggie out of frame, probs winfield blue, she is a basic bitch and doesn’t give a rats ass about it. Not interested in changing. Only god can judge her, and her name is def Twinky

It was exactly this time last year that I wrote an aggressive think-piece about how I don’t like dogs. I really stuck my neck out for that one. Australians love their four-legged friends, with 40% of households owning at least one of these loose-tongued, foul-farted mongrels.

In expressing my visceral hatred for dogs, I alienated a large portion of my employees. There was division in the ranks, I could feel it even from my lofty corner office.

But I said what I said, and I meant it.

Now that I’ve changed my mind, I’m in damage control mode. I look like a liar with Lululemon leggings on fire and frankly, I can’t afford to be burning all that Luxtreme™ (Lululemon girlies stand up).

What I’ve learnt from this experience is that rebuilding a compromised reputation is a fine art. Today, I sit and eat a fragrant slice of Schmackos humble pie.

Which is the perfect segue into tonight’s newsletter.

With an election this Saturday, and a federal one no less, it’s important we probe our leaders. And I believe their dogs are a portal into their state of mind.

My mind, for example, is overrun by little bitey cunts. Anything under 3kgs with an uneven temperament and absolutely no toilet training is my preference. As a person who profits off a personal brand, I am all about optics – and if loving chihuahuas makes me wrong, so be it. I’ll be a contrarian for this animal. 

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In my research, I came across an alarming trend.

Almost every single high-powered politician of recent history has a crusty poodle cross.

@frooomesI can smell them

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I am fascinated by this. What does it say about our leaders?

On the one hand, a crusty dog (typically white with brown dingleberries on the eyes) is the quintessential middle class canine.

But don’t let the mediocrity of this creature fool you. A bog-standard dog doth not equal a bog-standard price, with the average cavoodle costing anywhere between $4,000 to $8,500 big ones.

Sorry, but what?

Can someone explain to me how this dog costs more than a 2015 Hyundai i20?

which in my opinion is the vehicular equivalent of a cavoodle

I’ve thought about this long and hard (ten minutes) and have decided that this really is the perfect pet for a politician.

It’s hypoallergenic, relatively well-adjusted and inoffensive. No one has much to say about these dogs. They’re shorthand for “I’m normal”. But when did buying an animal for more than a fuel-efficient hatchback become achievable, nay, relatable?

there’s nothing normal about what this man would be looking at on his Surface Pro

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Let’s start with the pooch of our Prime Minisiter, Scott Morrison.

Now, I’m not gonna lie. It’s hard to fault the aesthetics of this dog. Its name is Buddy and it’s a black-coated schnauzer and poodle cross.

As far as crustiness goes, Buddy (fair shout on the name, credit where it’s due) is a lower-tier crust. The eyes look relatively clean and the coat is expertly regular – not long enough for dags, not short enough to suggest a $120 groom.

I’m no great fan of ScroteMo. I find his general disposition frustrating, like a fill-in P.E. teacher from the boys school who has come to the girls school to cover a dodgeball class and is way out of his depth. (As a dramatic asthmatic, I personally never really vibed with teachers whose chosen vocation was physical education. I miraculously had my period every swimming carnival for 7 years straight, just to spite them.)

This dog really is the perfect animal for the PM’s image. Scott Morrison’s whole modus operandi is to be your average man living an average life. A simple man, with simple tastes. A man whose ideal weekend involves quasi-cooking a curry so clearly undercooked that I contracted salmonella just at the sight of the thing:

Chicken Tonight could never

I can just picture Buddy scratching at the PM’s stovepipe jeans as he lovingly covers up the raw chicken with store-bought sauce. Again, I’m no ScoMo sympathiser, but I’ll hand it to the man – the pooch is giving.

Now, onto Albanussy.

This dog right here is the cremé de la cremé of crustiness. His name is Toto but he may as well be called Crab, so close is he to a crustacean.

He looks at least 15 years old, which suggests he was born before the cavoodle boom and probably cost $300. I get the sense that his paws are perpetually wet and that his scent is a mix of dry dog food and 20-year-old carpet.

But despite his flaws, he is trying. Who reading this hasn’t been the crusty dog of a situation, with matted hair, goop in the eyes and dags on the arse?

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Sitting side by side, Buddy and Toto strike me as powerful emblems of each leader. Albussy strikes me as an underdog. I watched his ‘my story’ highlight on Instagram and I was surprised by his working-class roots as I’m very used to potential Prime Ministers being private school graduates. Scott Morrison’s pampered pooch does suit his Bronte upbringing.

How do you feel about these doggies?

We are just 48 hours out from the election, and so if you’re still not sure which doggie to put your money on, you can use ABC’s Voting Compass. I’m going to sit down with a chocolate milk and have a go at it tomorrow afternoon. Because what is democracy if not a dog race?

Lol. See you Saturday yeeters and yeetettes!

With love and democratic sausages,
Froomes