Vote 1: Bear Grylls

Seagulls discuss the relative merits of Labor and Coalition same-sex marriage policy, Merimbula, NSW South Coast

At this momentous moment in Australian political history, I’ve naturally been pondering conundrums such as: is it just me, or do others among my Monetise This community feel the need to wash all the utensils, glassware, cookware and crockery at holiday homes? I’ve acronymed it – see how easy it is for any fool to impact nouns into verbs? – SCOCD (self-catering obsessive-compulsive disgust). That instinctive shrinking from the lip-smeared glasses, food-clotted forks and chewed plastic spatulas so prevalent in even the swishest of rental properties.

Or at least as swish as you get when holidaying with a dog (not for us the chic white-on-white of minimalist beach living). Although things are improving slightly, as we found on a couple of recent road trips along NSW’s South Coast, despite the colour schemes tending more towards the turquoise-on-turquoise. But no matter how smart and un-turquoise the digs, I can’t eat – let alone cook – before I’ve sprayed my territory.

Spoonbills bury their heads in the sand over public education funding, Merimbula, NSW South Coast

Most recently, I was sprung washing the cutlery drawer. Strange, really, considering the parlous state of my own house. But that’s our filth, which is, obviously, different.

Talking of somebody else’s filth, since the election was called, the Monetise This household has had to resort to the televisual equivalent of closing our eyes, sticking our fingers in our ears and singing ‘Lalalalala’ very loudly for a couple of hours a night. Switching over from worthy, early-evening, free-to-air news and current affairs to some Discovery channel or other liberates us from the horror show of those two charisma-free automatons seeking to rule this wide, brown land.

Which was how we washed up at hearty Man vs Wild last week, and a surprisingly absorbing episode during which the endearing Bear Grylls (now there’s a man who wouldn’t shrink from crumbs in the cutlery drawer) drank his own urine and ate a live spider to survive in the harsh Kimberley outback.

Frankly, if it means avoiding the spectacle of Rudd, Abbott and Rupert Murdoch campaigning to lead this fair dinkum sunburnt country, I’ll drink Bear Grylls’ urine, too.

Rainbow lorikeets throw around a few ideas on asylum-seeker policy, Tura Beach, NSW South Coast

Directly after last night’s first, unedifying debate ‘twixt Arthur and Martha – which, like the proverbial car crash, was impossible not to watch, no matter what Bear Grylls might have been getting up to with his bodily fluids – I decided to put my rabid and entrenched political bias to the test with the ABC’s online ‘Vote Compass‘ survey, to see where my political allegiances can best be served.

I’m a swinging vegan, apparently.