When reptiles indulge in a mock fight, and the dog botherer is involved, first check the genuinely discounted price ...

And more most excellent Popery here, as he sets the tone for yet another survey of lizard follies at the pond, and what better way to start proceedings than to note the fine effort by Paul "Ned" Kelly, the man with whom Louise Adler is besotted ...

But enough already of a doddering old codger spluttering and dribbling into his porridge of indignation, because bullying has been a way of life for the reptiles for yonks, and who would dare stand in the way of such a fine tradition (talk sometime with an insider about the culture at News Corp and you'll know what the pond means).

Never mind, there are plenty of other fine sights at the circus this day, not least Dame Groan piteously sighing about the suffering of the rich:

The pond shed a tear for the rich but was immediately swept away by a "spawn of Satan" sighting, with fiendish light rail tearing at the very heart and fabric of the community ...

Because, as Sydney swelters in the stench of its own sweat, any alternative to motor cars is a blight on civilisation, but please, don't say that sort of Catholic fundamentalist stupidity is ideologically driven ... not when you can move around your gigantic family by Humvee ...or handy jihadist-preferred Toyota HiLux or equivalent ...

But enough of these transient pleasures, because there's nothing pleases the pond more than spotting a reptile fight in the playground.

In the old days, the pond would have had to rush to other teachers to get help to break up the battle, but these days, the pond can stand on the sidelines chanting "fight, fight, fight", in the best Murdochian bullying tradition ...

No children, these reptiles aren't hugging. That isn't a reptile dance. This isn't hippie nonsense. This is a battle to the death ...

Now it would be remiss of the pond not to offer a teaser or two, just so weaker spirits might get to the end.

There will be, in best shaggy dog tradition, a delight at the end and we might pause the coal-fuelled steam train at the Werris Creek railway station for refreshments ...

Or maybe not ... next thing you know, reptiles will be blathering about Satan, and trainspotters will be up in arms here, and there'll be muttering about Windsor knots ...

Preferences? Coal? Heck, what do you think drove that majestic engine? Reptile dung? Is there any need to leave the 1950s behind?

 But speaking of reptile dung and that epic period brings the pond abruptly back to its main treasure ... the dog botherer in fine, exceptional, fighting reptilian form ...

Now all that the sweet, kindly dog botherer asked in his humble tweet was whether the Savva book was political revenge-porn ...

Of course if it was, confessing to having read it makes the dog botherer not just a basher of the filthy greenies, but also a pervert who just loves to read vile porn and then scribble about it at length, to the point that the pond began to have nightmarish visions of an orgasmic dog botherer at the height of a reading ecstasy of delight ... what you might call fifty shades of reptile rutting ...

But the real point, as always, with these lovers of smut, is their ongoing infatuation with the budgie smuggling wall puncher, and their inability, even at this late stage, to let go ...

Ah, you see, you see. Scant regard to things which deserve scant regard.

Where would the world be without simplistic, moronic slogs of the basically stupid kind? How would a dog botherer manage to learn anything more complex than a few basic chants? (Why the sheep in Animal Farm could manage an even longer sentence, axe the UN world government climate science CSIRO).

How will we survive without the slogans and the wall puncher? No wonder the dog botherer is outraged by that dreadful gossipy Savva woman ...

Now the pond promised refreshments and while it's no dog's eye with dead horse, it'll do ...

And more Wilcox here - she has a shop, ya know - and now we must get back to the dog botherer, but don't forget, there's a bonus twist to the shaggy dog story at the end, as the genre requires ...

And there you have it. Abbott's fundamental strength on climate change ...

It struck the already sweltering early morning pond as the finest example of dog botherer fuckwittery, and that's no small thing for a man much given to epic fuckwittery ....

And to follow it by saying that the media cannot escape its share of the blame for preferring wall puncher personalities over policy (there is no climate science), and posturing over substance (there is no climate science, it's all a UN world government hoax), had the pond shrieking with pleasure ...

But now for the shaggy dog payoff ...

You see, that book's filthy revenge porn, and hey, look how cheaply the reptiles have priced the revenge porn ... 

As Woody Allen once joked, boy, the food and the revenge porn at this place is really terrible, and in such small portions, but at least it's really cheap ...

Or some such rough equivalent. In the meantime, don't get agitated about the casual ongoing misrepresentation of climate science and other such matters, because that would be averting your eyes from all the white noise, and the dog botherer's epic attempt to act as a book salesman and provide an opportunity for you to get a handsome discount, so that you might buy the book, and wallow, dog botherer style, in the rich, ripe, lust revenge porn ...

As for the line about improving the country, the pond knows what that means. 

Improving the lot of the dog botherer, and Dame Groan's hapless rich and pandering to the Murdochian business plan ...  

... while peddling a monstrous absurdity ... the imperative is not to win the day but to improve the country, while celebrating the deeds of a man of impeccable negativity, driven by a chief of staff who shared his lack of vision, but shared his mantra that the imperative was to win the day, and the country can just get fucked ...

Never mind, there's a new fixer in town, and so to a Rowe cartoon and a different kind of revenge porn. First a little scene setting ... and as always more Rowe here, where "The Fear Hunter" can be found ...