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Last updated on August 4th, 2017 at 03:09 pm
I was looking around the office a few weeks ago for Piers Akerman (can’t recall exactly why; probably to discuss our latest instructions from John Howard/Karl Rove/Big Oil/Zionists). “He’s not here,” said the chief-of-staff. “He’s in Melbourne watching football. I think he’s with some old Collingwood player.”
So I call Piers … and he’s with Peter Daicos. Peter Daicos. The greatest of them all. Karl has never – not once – granted me this level of access.
