News of the Scarborough Beach pool opening has Ron’s blood pressure rising like the temperature inside a neglectful pet owners car.

It is nothing short of an outrage that 23 million of his personal tax dollars have been spent on a heated Olympic sized depository for toddler piss. Needless to say, he has strong opinions on the subject, so he fires up his joint Facebook account and fires at will:

“Back in my day, you would just go to the beach, ha! If it’s not broke don’t fix it, that is how we were brought up anyway, where are the schools? The hospitals? Why weren’t my bins emptied on Christmas Day? Suck eggs McCoward and his cohorts… hmmmf”

Of course, Ron has boycotted the beach ever since it became a Bakers Delight dumpster filled with discarded modesty and trashy buns. After all, Back in his day you only needed the pasty glimpse of a ladies neck to crack a stiffy at the beach.

Choosing to spend his golden years yelling at clouds, Ron turns his outrage to the real root of the problem, the fact people didn’t want to become a garnish on the shark fin soup the ocean had become:

“We wouldn’t have needed to build this W.Aste of money if the Government had kept control of the sharks. I remember the good old days where we would have bl**dy shown a shark what for if it came too close to shore! SOFT Government, SOFT people”

Like Cunt Eastwood he wants the Scarborough Pool off his fucking lawn so he begins penning a handwritten letter to The West Australian’s editor. Mid-rant, his long-suffering wife walks through the door smelling suspiciously of chlorine.

“Oh darling, I just met up with the girls down at the new pool, so nice not to deal with those immigrant children at the beach, I know they need somewhere to go, but why our Scarborough? chuckles casual racistly

Judas! Ron clutches at his chest, the love of his life had betrayed him. Why didn’t she have a dip in one of 3 of the pools he owns in his negatively geared properties?

He makes a notation to pen a handwritten letter of divorce to Cheryl once he has finished with his pool letter and finalises the matter of why a new Stadium was built when he still can’t go to his local IGA without seeing a youth in a hoodie.