Wild, Odd, Amazing & Bizarre…but 100% REAL…News From Around The Internet.

Aussie Politician Bids Farewell with a Boot-Scootin’ Beverage

Summary for the Curious but Committed to Minimal Effort

  • Outgoing WA MP Kyle McGinn capped his valedictory speech by doing a ‘shoey’—drinking beer from his own shoe—to showcase parliamentarians as ‘normal people.’
  • Borrowed from blue-collar, motorsport and music traditions, the shoey was a deliberate move to break parliamentary formality and promote inclusiveness.
  • The stunt won laughs and spotlighted approachability, but also sparked debate over whether such antics undermine the dignity of public office.

If modern politics has sometimes felt a bit, well, stale, leave it to Western Australia to bring things back to earth—with a splash of cold lager and a distinct whiff of footwear. In what I can only describe as equal parts irreverent and oddly charming, outgoing state MP Kyle McGinn capped his valedictory speech in the WA parliament not with the usual dignified handshake or a framed certificate, but with a now-infamous “shoey.” For those not fluent in Aussie tradition, a shoey is precisely what it sounds like: the act of drinking, typically beer, straight from one’s own (or sometimes a mate’s) shoe. Sometimes the stories really do write themselves.

A Parliamentary Tradition Like No Other

After wrapping up his final address, McGinn removed a shoe, poured in a beer, and toasted his departure in this peculiarly Australian style. According to the BBC, this spectacle was a nod to a reputation he’d cultivated among constituents for such antics. The gesture wasn’t just about leaving a memorable mark—it was also a deliberate move to showcase the “normal people in parliament,” as he remarked to local media.

Sky News Australia, capturing the lighter side of the moment, shares McGinn’s attitude toward improvisation: “It probably wasn’t my first choice of shoe, but it did the job either way.” He adds that parliament “is for everybody and represents everybody in Australia,” weaving this offbeat celebration into a broader message about inclusiveness. His quip—“Absolutely, you and me, shoey, mullet, let’s do it”—underscores the tongue-in-cheek approach, inviting even the most unlikely parliamentary observers to join in (at least in spirit).

Not Your Standard Farewell Toast

Originating as a kind of blue-collar bonding gesture, the shoey has made surprising cultural inroads from motorsport to music stages, and, apparently, legislative chambers. The BBC points out McGinn’s shoey was intended to counter the stuffiness sometimes associated with public office. It begs the question: is there now a hierarchy of optimal shoey vessels? McGinn, as Sky News Australia relates, simply grabbed what was available—and in the process, perhaps embodied the very spirit of the ritual: celebration isn’t about having the perfect prop, but embracing the messiness of the moment. Sometimes, a barely-used dress shoe is a luxury; more often, it’s whatever got you through the day.

Whiff of the People, or a Step Too Far?

Closing out his political tenure by drinking from his own shoe, McGinn set out to demystify parliament, as documented by both the BBC and Sky News Australia. Positioning elected officials as approachable and thoroughly human, he put forward the idea that a little eccentricity might bridge that “yawning gap” between lawmakers and the public. Was it just good-natured populism, or does it risk undermining the dignity of office? That’s up for debate—but as far as send-offs go, it was certainly one for the books, leaving the usual pomp and circumstance looking even dustier by comparison.

Summary: Sole-Searching Down Under

Political valedictories rarely stick in the memory; speeches fade and ceremonial moments blend together. Every so often, though, someone finds an exit ramp straight into the great archive of weird-but-true. Pulling from accounts in both the BBC and Sky News Australia, it’s hard to imagine McGinn’s sudsy, shoe-centric farewell being soon forgotten. Statesmanlike? Possibly, in the most iconically Australian way. It does make you wonder—should all politicians consider a little more shoey, and a little less ceremony? Maybe, just maybe, the path to relatability is paved with a willingness to get your hands (and feet) a bit damp.

Sources:

Related Articles:

When a Russian parliamentary panel takes aim at Shrek—yes, the ogre from the swamp—you know international relations have entered uncharted territory. What’s behind this unexpected cultural skirmish? A collision between Western irony and traditional values, with onion layers of absurdity. Curious why politicians suddenly care about green antiheroes? Let’s sift through the mud together.
Ever wondered what happens when Pikachu tries to enroll in preschool—officially? Japan’s new naming laws are zapping the rise of “kira-kira” names, putting a lid on kanji creativity that’s resulted in kids named after everything from puddings to Roman emperors. As the rules tighten, will the next generation’s roll calls sound more sensible—or just find new ways to surprise us?
When the future of the Big Mac becomes headline-worthy statecraft, you know global politics has wandered into the truly peculiar. Russia’s latest cold-shoulder to McDonald’s is more than just a fast-food feud—it’s a pointed lesson in nostalgia, national pride, and the fine art of negotiating over fries. Will golden arches return, or has Kremlin cuisine turned the page for good?
Just when you thought Star Wars fandom reached peak oddity, it turns out the CIA had a fan site of their own—except this one was less about Wookiee lore and more about covert ops. Apparently, cartoon Yodas and Lego reviews served as a digital cloak for international spycraft. Sometimes, the strangest corners of the internet really are hiding something. Want the full story?
How does a slice of supermarket cheese tossed by teenagers end with a respected doctor facing felony charges? The curious case of Dr. Bruce Mitchell blends suburban absurdity with real stakes—a strange dance between dairy, danger, and the split-second choices that turn pranks into headlines. What, exactly, pushes an everyday annoyance into high-octane infamy? Read on for the full story.
A university asks students to prove their period by lowering their pants—bureaucracy, meet peak absurdity. When policy leaves both dignity and logic at the door, you’re left with the kind of tale that begs to be re-read just to be sure it’s not satire. Curious how systems meant to protect end up inventing new humiliations? Read on for a study in red tape gone rogue.