Every so often, the reptiles forget themselves and do some actual journalism. It's terribly distressing to the pond.
Who wants to read this sort of stuff?
Scandalous. And why should any reader of the reptile press be inundated with this sort of irrelevance?
The astonishing accommodation accorded to Ms Jackson by commission lawyers as they prepared to question her on matters that went to her alleged misappropriation of $250,000 of union member’s money stands in sharp contrast to others in the union movement, and in particular to a prominent target, the Opposition Leader.
In Mr Shorten’s case, there was no personal guidance provided of any kind on how to handle his examination. Six days before the hearing, on Friday, July 3, the commission made available almost 2000 pages of documents to him.
An avalanche of further documents was added on the following Monday, and more over the next two days. On Wednesday, July 8, Mr Shorten took the stand. No information had been provided by commission lawyers regarding any particular subject to focus on, or telephone guidance on useful evidence to prepare.
And so on and so forth. Why, your average innocent reader might not just apprehend a mystical, ghostly bias, but an actual, practical, solid, physical, functioning and functional bias.
Please, enough of this leftist thinking, because today is Caterist today, and the pond must join the conga line.
Now the pond has confessed, at tedious and repeated length, to the joy of growing up with an alcoholic grandfather, violent when in his cups, and a father who followed his father's lead ...
Why even the pond's best friend in school daze had a father who was a classic alcoholic, digging holes in the garden to hide the hard stuff, or tucking it a nook or cranny like the water heater, and too drunk and befuddled to expect that his wife or children would ever find it and spirit it away ... and then on the weekends, heading off to the Tamworth nags to drop the rest of his wages on contenders for the glue factory ...
Of course as a result, the pond immediately realised that addiction to drink was just a simple matter of will power, and all that talk of Alcoholics Anonymous about it being a disease, and a potent one at that, which once it had you in its grip was hard to break, was simply so much well meaning twaddle.
Yes, there's nothing like seeing people up close struggling with the demon drink to realise how easy it is to give it up, nor should the wondrous social, societal and health benefits of getting as pissed as a parrot on a daily basis be under-estimated. Just look what it's done for indigenous communities.
Indeed, that's why the pond is all in favour of an open slather for the alcohol industry. Long may it flog its products to minors and be able to use sports advertising to impress impressionable youngsters. And let's not forget the tremendous social benefits of the gambling industry. Yes, it's an industry where industrious souls do tremendous work.
Indeed, it's the libertarian dream of the pond to do away with all restrictions on drugs. Let ice be available at corner stores, let boutique marijuana stores flourish, let heroin flow in the streets, and let there be abundant kool aid throughout the land.
Why on occasions, the pond has dreamt of a minimum of five firearms per household - anything less would seem like a lack of enthusiasm - and it's surely time for petty pedantic bureaucratic restrictions on ammonium nitrate to be lifted, especially if it can be given a diesel slurry on top.
The pond has even dared to dream, in a wild-eyed way, that drivers of motor vehicles might be allowed to choose whichever side of the road they might like to drive on, depending on whim, mood, or even just sheer pleasurable whimsy.
Now where did all this jolly thinking come from?
Well as noted, happily it's Caterist day, and the pond is always pleased to see a heavily taxpayer subsidised organisation's chief representative bemoaning taxpayers subsidising organisations ... especially if they've got anything to do with that wonderfully therapeutic drug alcohol.
Of course, double standards must immediately apply, and not just in the matter of having the paw in the taxpayer's till. Not a word must be breathed about marijuana - which the pond found less addictive than alcohol, though others have different experiences - or the pleasures of speed, apart from the teeth grinding, or the joys of ice, which apparently can grip the soul in just the same way as alcohol manages with those who can't resist its charms.
Instead we must assault those who attempt to ameliorate the impact of alcohol on the community at large. And why not because these do gooders ruin the fun for everyone.
And so suitably primed, let us turn to this urgent plea to let the streets run wild and free with liquor. Why soon enough, we can surely overturn the wowsers and their specious nonsense about being pissed being the wheel is a danger to drivers and others, and instead return to the good old Tamworth days when everybody knew it was their right to get as drunk as a skunk before toddling off home in the good old motor ... and if someone got hit, why they surely needed a good lecture about the personal responsibility involved in walking in front of a motor.
Indeed, indeed. It's all a matter of choice and personal responsibility, and thank the long absent lord there's been a great revival in Newtown of late, as we see the wonders of binge drinking and getting pissed as a parrot and the great technicolor yawn (known to some as the thunder of chunder down under) have taken to the inner west, all because those damned wowsers dared to limit the chance to binge and chunder in central Sydney.
It would be remiss of the pond not to link to the source of that image, a rare and exotic blog dealing with the cinemas of Melbourne in the golden age of soft porn, here. Ain't the full to overflowing intertubes a wondrous thing?
But soft, that rascal has distracted the pond from the siren song of the Caterists. Surely the time is right for a stunning array of arguments, emanating from a taxpayer-funded organisation, deploring the grubby paws of others, busily at work trying to get taxpayer-funding ...
Splendid stuff. Sure grog makes some lives wretched, but what a great moment to make a joke about a pub test, as they lie comatose in the gutter choking on their vomit.
Laugh ... why the pond chortled and cackled at the cleverness of the wit. And as for the other ...
... So keen on taxing the rest of us react to paying a little tax themselves could just as easily read thank the long absent lord we got our share of the taxes, and now the rest of you can bugger off ...
Oh sorry, the reptiles left off at the bottom the important note that the Caterist is the executive director of the quango mango Menzies Research Centre, given a hearty grant by the federal government. Make sure you don't just tipple, but chug that reminder right to the bottom of the pint glass ...
The pond now anxiously awaits the Caterists joining in the joint Leyonhjelm/pond campaign to ensure there's a gun in every home. Remember, not just one, but five or more, because you can never have enough guns. And more gambling, lots of gambling, because it's an industry.
And please, pretty please, the alcohol industry must be able to run wild and free, and anyway, what's wrong with cigarettes, all that nonsense about costs to society. Next thing you know those wowsers will be trying to tarnish the excellent reputations of sugar, trans fats, high fructose corn syrup and all the other things that make life worth living.
Soon enough the whole country will turn Nimbin, thanks to the exemplary, well-reasoned, compassionate and thought through arguments of the Caterists ... and here's hoping the alcohol industry recognises what a friend they have in the Menzies Research Centre....
And so to a few pleasing historical reminders of the days of the wowsers ...
Oops, sorry, the pond is mortified that one slipped through.
What the pond meant was a nifty combination of getting on the piss and Islamophobia, as only the Kiwis knew how to do ...