Australian Intelligence Exposed

The up-yours statue and Nicholas Upwood

The Thomas Sutcliffe Diaries
Trevor Spall
Conpsiracy theories
Introductions by famous people

Some also call it Bugs Bunny

Keep on rockin in the free world!


The ‘Up Yours Statue’ in Canberra: February 22nd 2006


We pass by the 'Up Yours Statue' Canberra on the way to the airport. It was a gift from the Americans: a giant phallic pole 100 feet high  topped by an eagle with its wings pointed upwards to the heavens. It looks exactly like Bugs Bunny. The minister tries to tell me it is a bird of peace and therefore symbolizes the love and unity between our two great nations.


The minister also thinks that being a leftie means that someone is left handed, but that is just Nick.


"Thomas," he says. "Where are we going again?"


"North Sumaria minister,' I reply sadly. Sometimes it is difficult to keep the minister in track. He has, how can I put this delicately, a tendency to wander.


"That's north of South Sumaria isn't it?" You could practically see hin going 'never eat soggy Weetbix' under his breath.


"Yes minister."


"Have I met the North Sumarian foreign minister?"


"Yes minister. You met him two months aho at that South East Asian junket." For the first time the minister looks excited. 'That was the one with the fantastic seafood buffet wasn't it? The one with the ginormous prawns."


"Yes minister, the one with the ginormous prawns and the summit concerning Pacific trade..." I attempt to get him back on track, but he was off on a crustacean fueled nostalgia trip. "I said some very statesmanlike things on that trip didn't it?"


"Yes minister, you did."


"What did I say again?" I think desperately for a minute. What on Earth had the idiot actually said? God knows. I was probably far too drunk at the time to remember. Then I hit on a sure answer. "You said that the Americans were our friends and that the future of our two nations could only lead to future prosperity." That was sure to make him happy.


The minister looked either thoughtful or stoned for a minute. it's difficult to tell. Then he nods. he's a little slow.


"Yes," he says happily. "The Americans are our friends."


"Indeed minister," I oil. "Friends." Another diplomatic crisis averted. 




An extract from The Sydney Morning Herald: Febrary 24th 2006

Tensions heat up in relations between Australia and North Sumaria

Nicholas Upward has caused an international scandal yesterday when he tried to order a drink from the North Sumarian Prime Minister.

"We'' he wooled like a waiter. What was i supposed to think?" stated Mr Upwood at a press conference in North Summaria's capital Bai Lai. "They all look the same to me."


Fuck Kerry O'Brien and fuck the 7.30 Report Februrary 27th 2006

BRIAN: So, Mr Upwood, you apparently called the North Sumarian Prime Minister and effing effing effing effing effer. Don't you feel those words may have been a little unwise in this situation?

JOHN: Well, you know what they say. Sticks and stones can breaks my bones, but words will never hurt me.

BRIAN: But didn't the Prime Minister kick you in the shin?

JOHN: Yes, well Brian. It was only a small burise. it's not like he got his minders to beat me up for anything.

BRIAN: But he did get his minders to beat you up.

JOHN: Yes Brian. However you must realise that you must be prepared for things like that in the cut throat fast paced world of diplomacy.

BRIAN: Diplomacy?

JOHN: Yes Brian. I am a diplomat. You know: diplomat. It rhmes with laundromat, cat... twat.

BRIAN: Thank you Mr Upwood.

I very calmy take a deep breath and throw my whisky glass, a la Richard Carlton style, at the television set. we're screwed. And more to the point I am going to be the one left to do the unscrewing and there isn't a screwdriver in sight.


Extract from The Australian Newspaper: March 3rd 2006

Australia goes into high alert after North sumaria threatens military reprisals. Mr Upwood admits the 'number 23 with blabk bean sauce' remark was probably not appropriate under the circumstances.


Parliament House: March 16th 2006

George calmly takes a breath and speaks into his walkie talkie. "Operation Cover Up. I repeat Operation Cover Up... What terry. No I am not taking the piss. The missiles are incoming. Pull the bloody shutters. What do mean Bob has the key? Fund the fucker. He'll be round the back having a smoke. I gon't give a flying. Just get him, stick the key in and hit the big red button."

Suddenly an ominous grating noise drowned out George's frantic swearing. We look at the sky. It's like something ut of James Bond. Huge steel shutters begin to emerrge from the supports of Parliament House and cover the giant panoramic windows. We watch in awe as they cut out the sky and plunge the gallery into darkness. The they stop half way.

"George?" asks the Prime Minister darkly.

"Well that happens sometimes. They work on the same principle as your basic sliding door and sometimes leaves get stuck in the tracks."

"So basically we are going to die,' says the PM as he shoots a filthy glance at Nick who was hovering nervously.

George stratches his head. "We could go down to the bunker." 

"There is an underground bunker?"

"Yeah, Hawke had it built so he had somewhere to go to play the one handed xylophone without being hassled by Paul." He smiles lecherously. 'There's also a mini bar down there too. We just never told you about it."

After some statesmanlike discussion we bolt.


Just beside Lake Burleigh Griffin: March 17th 2006

I wander, dazed, around the once green lawns that surrounded Parliament House. Not that Canberra had much of a landscape to begin with, but not it is decimated. it Doesn't look all that much different really. if you squint you could pretend all the rubble was abstract art.

The High Court is in ruins. Although with that crap architecture it is difficult to tell. They probably never knew what hit them. There they were arguing about some poor bugger's asylum case and whammo! So much for the Separation of Powers doctrine now.

As I watch a man emerges from the ruins. Smoking and sooty he doggedly picks his way through the rubble of the High Court in the direction of what is left of Parliament House. I was amazed. was there nothing that could stop that man?

As he passes he gives me a grunt of acknowledgement. God save them up in the House. Nick is in dead trouble. The fury of a woman scorned and all that, but at that moment i reckoned in all history there has never been anything worse than a pissed off pooftah who has just had his High Court blown up by a ground to air missile.




Nicholas Upwood


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