Now it's totally on, how much is that poodle in the window, the pond does hope that poodle's for sale ...

(Above: trust the immortal Pope to set the scene, and get the happy trio of bosom buddies away from phones and the pesky public and wretched journos for a jolly good weekend, and naturally there's more cheerful Pope here).

Now the pond rarely indulges in Lisztomania and never does listicles, and when hearing of Buzzfeed, thinks of buzzards in the desert hunkering down for a snack, but due to overwhelming pressure, feels compelled to link to 37 Old Liberal Tweets That Are Hilarious Because It's Now Totally On, and thanks to the readers who provided links to this wonderful delight. It really is great fun.

But why 37 you ask? and the pond advises that an expert in SEO says all the scientific literature confirms that an odd, not an even, number is what is required for your listicles to attract punters.

And now on with the day, and we know that It's Now Totally On because the rats have been observed racing around on the ship looking for the very best position. Yes, the poodle has turned into a giant rodent, as cheeky and self-obsessed as ever, and so much for his selfless desire to do over the higher education system:

There's more at the Adelaide Deriser here, but the pond would especially like to commend the sub involved for his or her photo of the poodle turned rodent:

Flattery will get you everywhere. And then came this from the wicked Fairfaxians at L'Age d'or:

Oh dear. It's here if you like, but the headline is enough to sicken the soul and upset the stomach.

However you cut it, underwhelmed or a less than impressive response, it doesn't sound good. While at L'Age, the pond naturally dropped in on Spooner:

(And more cartoons and Spooner at L'Age here).

Oh dear, that doesn't sound good. Plan A? Underwhelming ...

Meanwhile, the Daily Terror was also in a state of high agitation.

Oh dear, that doesn't sound good. It's here if you like, but all it's saying is that the gyre is widening and angry beasts are going to slouch towards Canberra next week ... and it's already out of date, because the big news this morning is the treachery of the rodent ...

Naturally it was then time to turn to the reptiles at the lizard Oz, scurrying about like ants in a nest under siege. Now it might seem like it was just another day for the reptiles, business as usual for the Oz editorialist:

Ah yes, those wretched academics. What would they know about running a propaganda machine for a billionaire bully?

But then the reptile editorialist also let loose with this lizard thunderbolt:

Great leaping lizards. "A more authoritative figure, such as Malcolm Turnbull".

No wonder that jolly Joe is stumping around town, bellowing at anyone who will listen, the wonders of Sir Duke Abbott. When the Sir Duke goes, jolly Joe is sure to follow ...

Then there was the usual Friday line up, including the Swiss bank account man:

But the pond wants to award a special prize to this splash by Adam Creighton:

WTF? Only the Labor party, in opposition, can fix the budget? They need to act like a government while in opposition?

Well what's the use of having the government?

No wonder Moir was in a feisty mood (and more Moir here):

But enough already. Let the counting begin and the meeting be held this Tuesday.

As that memorable songstress Doris Day sang, Que Sera Sera (or was that how much is that poodle in the window, oh I do hope that poodle's for sale, or was that Patti Page?)

Meanwhile, there are other fish to fry.

Astute readers will have already noted that the reptiles of the lizard Oz have published yet another profoundly urgent, absolutely un-emotive message from one of the world's leading climate scientists:

What a welcome relief it is to be distracted from the blood on the floor and the mopping up of the sea of blood:

It will have blood they say. Blood will have blood.
Abbotts have been known to move, and poodles to speak
Augurs and understood relations have
By magot pies and choughs and rooks and bishops and Turnbulls brought forth
The secret'st man of blood - What is the day, is it Chewsday?

And the pond takes so seriously the world's most famous climate scientist that we feel compelled to reprint the thoughts of Tony Abbott's chief business advisor for all to contemplate:

Pond readers are cordially invited to comment on the many non sequiturs and logical fallacies embodied in Tony Abbott's chairman's scribbling.

Like, for example, decrying emotion and then leading off with elderly Britons dying of cold.

Or using Watts Up as a reliable source.

Just so you're not short of material, there's more:

Yes, there it is again, in the real world poor dying of cold.

Why you might just as well beat your bloated fat cat chest about the poor dying of the heat, air conditioning sometimes being in short supply for the poor.

For someone decrying emotion, Tony Abbott's chief business advisor loves a hearty dose of hysteria and paranoia:

And there you go, right at this moment, with Abbott's Sir Duke back against the wall, the chairman of his Business Advisory council - his views are his own, but they are shared with the world from a privileged position, a position privileged by Tony Abbott - has chosen to remind us all that Tony Abbott is in the camp of the climate denialists, with only he and an oddball Canadian with the courage to push back against the black helicopters of the UN using climate science to install a world government.

Or some such thing.

You have to hand it to the reptiles of Oz, and Newman. The timing is impeccable ...

Roll on Tuesday, and in the meantime, there's room for this impeccable Rowe, and more Rowe here: