Caroline Overington: Andrew Broad has his own dinkum style

Andrew Broad in Question Time in the House of Representatives Chamber at Parliament House in Canberra. Picture: Kym Smith

What does it mean to be a man in Australia today? Never mind all those beer-drinking records — can you ride a plane, f..k a horse, fly a woman (I may not have that in entirely the right order)?

Because this is the new Australian standard.

In case you missed it, New Idea’s crack investigative team, presumably now headed by Laurie Oakes, yesterday brought down an Australian government minister.

Cogitate that, Walkley committee.

Andrew Broad resigned after the magazine published an interview with a “sugar baby” who claims he sent her a series of lewd text messages after they were matched on the website SeekingArrangement.

It’s for men who wish to lavish gifts upon young ladies, no reciprocity required.

Why this should be a problem, I don’t know.

The Coalition is forever going on about what a broad church they are (look carefully, you’ll see what I did there).

Nationals MP Andrew Broad with his wife Rachel and, bottom left, with Deputy Prime Minister Michael McCormack

Broad quit without admitting wrongdoing in this scandal — for short, let’s call it Broad overboard for broads, abroad — because it’s apparently … all very complicated.

His boss, National Party leader Michael McCormack, told reporters: “These sorts of issues are not always black and white”.

No, indeed, they are often puce, or puke, I forget which.

But never mind all that. Let’s get to the detail.

According to the sugar baby, Broad sees himself as something of a hot shot, which is kind of cute, since he is in real life the member for Mallee.

She says he arranged a dinner date, only to spend the entire night complaining about the price of cocktails in Hong Kong.

Seventeen bucks? You’d get the restaurant for that in Manangatang.

According to the sugar baby, Broad referred to himself several times as James Bond (and, look, technically he was an assistant to a minister of the crown therefore in some vague way serving Her Majesty and yet, not to be mean, but Daniel Craig he ain’t).

She says he asked her: “Do you like Aussie accents?”

She replied: “I love Aussie accents, I think they’re so sexy.”

Encouraged, he then said: “I pull you close, run my strong hands down your back, softly kiss your neck and whisper ‘G’day mate’.”

Is that not glorious?

Obviously it is, but why must we stop the dialogue there?

Australian English is replete with idioms that could soon become weapons in the arsenal of the Aussie pick-up artist.

Let me lay you out flat, like a lizard drinking.

I want to throw my shrimp on you, baby.

Or, for fans of both Shakespeare and Jerry Maguire (and this may be the worst mash-up of all time, but that’s the point, right?):

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, for ’ tis sparrow’s fart.

You had me at g’day mate.