Day 10, and somehow perky teen breasts get into the taxing story thanks to the western Jensenist ...

(Above: and more Rowe here).

Theoretically the pond should be relevant.

After all, a vibrant, innovative, agile plan to reform the tax system - by reverting to the glorious copper days of 1942 - and in a way that will result in no one paying any more tax, but which will solve expenditure issues is a marvel up there with the magic pudding - from the glorious copper days of circa 1918 - and naturally the reptiles put it top of the tree-killer page:

But the wind is now routinely taken from the pond's relevancy sails by the professional Malware haters, none better than the Bolter ...

Eight ways stupid, which is more succinct than fifty ways to tax your lover.

Dame Slap requests a tax plan, Malware and ScoMo burble different takes on a plan, and suddenly the Bolter's smacking them around like Robert de Niro armed with a baseball bat.

How is this fair to the pond?

Naturally we had to revert for comedy to the golden west stylings of Dennis Jensen.

Now anyone who looked at the pond in the golden days of climate science will remember Jensen's wondrous contributions to the religion, as he deployed a can of coke and charcoal to make his artful point ...

By golly, it was great science, and the pond was startled to discover this day, thanks to the reptiles, that Jensen was also a great novelist ...

Now the reptiles provided a splendid splash which contains a gobbet of the proposed text as well as a number of spoilers (please we've just watched the penultimate OJ ep and we still don't know how it ends, no spoilers please):

No bra. Small, hard, firm, taut, terrific, late teen boobs. The soft, silky texture of her small luxuriating breasts. Oh do it, just do it, take me firm, take me hard, thrust your pulsating manhood into my quivering woman-ness ...

Naturally the pond was hooked ... great reads like this don't come every day of the week. Come to think of it, they rarely come at all ...

Warm wetness. Took him in her silky taut firm pert late teen mouth, but his gigantic manhood was too big for her, and she had to lick him like a lollypop or a vanilla bean icecream from the Cow and the Moon ...

Please, do go on ...

Say what? How did a German shepherd get into the story? Is there bestiality in the house?  Could the hound paw at the soft, silky, taut, terrific, pert late teen brown breasts better than a Jensen?

Well the pond will be devastated if one of the country's great climate scientists should happen to go, but if he must, he must ...

Meanwhile, the pond must turn to the dross.

Not the Malware hating Bolter, who is so predictable and excessive in his rage, that it makes him a very predictable anger machine. But look how the reptiles struggle to come to terms with Malware's latest set of situations ...

For no other reason than perversity, and a desire to seek out a different kind of tedium and ennui, the pond decided to go with the revelatory thoughts of Paul "Ned" Kelly ... how could he rescue something from Malware's latest gambit?

A daunting task! By this stage the people must be confused! As if it's difficult to understand how copper is the real future, and fibre is for losers as we head back to the future ...

But finally the prolix, prattling Ned gets to the point and the spadework, and sadly, this wonderful attempt to turn Australia into the United States begins to founder even with Ned himself ...

Of course it's based on an epic lie, which is to blame the Gillard government, as if the Abbott government hadn't itself indulged in lavish spending and boondoggling and pork barreling, and was only stopped from even bigger ones by a conspiracy of circumstances ... and PPL changes that still bedevil the feds.

Still, it's noble to see at least one reptile attempt a limited defence of Malware, and call him a model of expository rationality, albeit beset by treacherous variables.

It is, in its own way, the most revealing chapter yet, in the unfolding saga of how the reptiles must help Malware stagger and lurch to the election ...

And suddenly the pond's countdown begins to look as rubbery and as shonky as a dildo purchased from a two dollar store.

Please send all royalties for the use of that metaphor to Dennis Jensen. It sounds like he might need the money.

Still, it's much more fun to see a doddery old reptile dancing on the head of a pin - or is that in awe, gazing at Malware doing an agile pole dance - than a Bolter blazing away on a keyboard spiked with a bright blue tablet ... you know the kind ...

All that's left then is a Pope cartoon and more papal pleasures here ...