Strewth: A date with Bob Katter in Sydney’s Greens-voting latte belt

Strewth and Bob Katter went to the heart of Sydney’s latte belt: Annandale, the suburb The Daily Telegraph calls the Green Mile.

Independent MP Bob Katter with Strewth columnist James Jeffrey in Annandale, Sydney.

When Strewth recently invited Bob Katter to share his feelings on his and Greens leader Richard Di Natale’s shared soft spot for the three-piece suit, he soon got past fashion to unload on the Greens. Not for the first time, either. So, boldly, Strewth and Katter (pictured) went to the heart of Sydney’s Greens-voting latte belt: Annandale, the suburb The Daily Telegraph recently dubbed the Green Mile. As we took our seats at the Revolver cafe (our local), we were apprehensive. Would there be cold glances? Would the locals riot and run Katter out of town? Au contraire. Barely a moment had passed before the first admirer arrived at the table to inform Katter, “You’re the only honest one in parliament.” Katter probably set the mood when, while clarifying that old story about the time he threw eggs at the Beatles, he sang Love Me Do.

Making (air) waves

Having failed to line up a taxidermist for Johnny Depp’s dogs (Strewth, yesterday), we sat back and watched the next cosmic chapter of Pirates of the Cur-ibbean. Indeed, Barnaby “Everlasting dogstopper” Joyce copped from radio gent Kyle Sandilands an earful that included words such as “clown” and “insensitive wanker”. Joyce tells Strewth the interview was, alas, not entire: “They deleted the part where he dropped in a colourful old Saxon term which could also mean rooster, among his other endorsements of my character. If voyeurism, insults and personal obliteration is what blows your hair back, then Mr Sandilands would be a delightful dinner guest.” That thought aside, one word Joyce is keen to hear is “sorry”.

Among fans

A Strewth agent at Tony Abbott’s post-budget lunch at Sydney’s Four Seasons hotel was struck by the make-up of the crowd, which appeared to be about 50 per cent Chinese. Apparently seven of the tables (at $2500 a pop) were booked by the 17-year-old son of a Chinatown restaurateur. As he went to leave, the PM was swamped by groups wanting selfies. Move over, Kevin Rudd.

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