Day 101 of MUC and day 54 of MOC, and the bromancer draws ineffable conclusions in a way only a bromancer can ...

The pond still has a taste for rustic humour, Tamworth style, and thanks to the relative who thought this should set the tone for the pond this day ... and it's true that the Northern Daily Bleeder is putting the very best case forward for Barners ...

But there's a simple fix. 

Give Tamworth copper and all will be well, and besides, the pond is an internationalist site with an internationalist vision. 

No petty parish pump politics for the pond, which is why the pond was instantly attracted to the bromancer.

Only two sleeps to go and the agony in an eight week fit will be at an end! But will there ever be an end to nattering about 'leets?

Now the pond is aware that the bromancer channels the onion muncher of the northern reaches, and so to read the bromancer is to get inside the wall puncher's mind. 

How pleasing to learn that the Irish, the Scots and the entirety of London constitute an inner-city elite, and how wondrous to discover that Greggie - well if Dave's Dave then surely Greggie's Greggie - is so astutely positioned to advise on inner city leets from the reptiles' Surry Hills bunker ...

Ah yes, there it is, thanks to Tony Abbott... 

Oh and remember, don't go to war with your base. Your base of course is Tony and George and Cory and so on and so forth ...

And please ignore that little walk back ..."I think the decision by Britain to leave the EU is sound so long as the next delicate phase is handled well ..."

Because it's all been handled so terribly well to date ...

So long, it's been good to know ya ...

Now that we've got it sorted how the tail should dance to the rump's crack of the whip, please, let us carry on ...

Well let it be said that the bromancer has never once looked impressive, and much of the chaos currently going down has been started by his mischief-maker-in-chief master ... who left these gnomic utterances amongst his last tweets before he fell to rutting ...

There's your genuine 'leet speak, and there is your chief threat to trade ... as can be read in Donald Trump dumps on free trade's 'rape of our country' (with Fairfax forced video).

How has the world descended into this madness? 

Well once there was an onion muncher and a bromancer and a Rupert and ever since the pond has felt like it's living in the middle of knighted Alice in Wonderland down the wabbit hole, or perhaps the benighted world envisioned by a Rowe cartoon, and more Rowe here ...

Steady as she goes? Until the rump cracks the whip and they break out the pork barrels ...

Day 100 of MUC and day 53 of MOC and the pond gives the dangerous fickle 'leets a good Johnsing ...

The pond couldn't resist another dose of bashing the 'leets. And what better way to get it than from a man who was once a federal minister, now a poverty-stricken pensioner who knows the dangers of meddlesome political 'leets.

No doubt Johnsie would give the dangerous young 'leets a serious hosing down.

As everyone knows, the young - those who could bother to drag themselves away from a pint of fish and chips and warm baked beans - were the least likely to vote to leave (Young people are so bad at voting) and so they almost ruined it for everyone with their dangerous Eurocentrism and 'leetism.

Thank the long absent lord these 'leet meddlers mostly stayed at home so that angry old white men and Johnsie could shout at clouds and Europe and climate science:

Indeed, indeed, and perhaps Rowson summarised the state of play with a cartoon (and more Graudian cartoons here ...)

But back to the shouting at clouds and 'leets and Islamics and dammit a Norwegian judge, because it really sticks in the craw, the way they administer justice in Norway, and dammit, that's all the fault of the EU.

What's that you say? Norway's not in the EU? Dammit, if that doesn't prove Johnsie's point to a T, what on earth will? They run everything, even when they don't run everything! Next thing you know people will want to let the UN treaties take effect, and next thing you know, black bloody helicopters!

By golly, the pond's gut has been gnawed to the bone.

Lauran Orda.

Elites beware. Glocks talk.

Froth and foam.

Re-set wash cycle to extended suds.

Never mind, there have been some real tragedies and the pond feels them deeply.

Where will Steve Bell be without David Cameron to draw as some kind of effete, elongated condom?

Why hasn't he heard of former federal government minister Gary Johns and blessed him with a drawing? Pressing, pertinent issues at the fading of the light.

Get on board young people, and remember old raging people upset at the dying of the light rulez ...(And more Graudian cartoons here ...)

Day 100 of MUC and day 53 of MOC, and the pond leaves no Stone unturned ...

The pond was delighted to see the reptiles disinter an ancient mariner, so long in the tooth that the pond had almost entirely forgotten he existed ...

The mariner stoppeth one of three this day to teach them an urgent lesson ...

Of course "Throw No" Stone has been throwing stones routinely at The Spectator, but the pond rarely goes there ... what would be the point?

All that could be done is simply regurgitate the entire magazine as a sublime example of extreme loonishness.

Besides the cartoons are terrible, looking as if they've been scraped from a 1950s edition of Punch magazine or perhaps a Readers' Digest someone purloined from their dentist's rooms ...

But if you ventured into that turf, you could have found a thunderous Stone laying down the rules about what to do about that cad Turnbull, who is definitively not a Liberal and in no way deserving of anything, except perhaps a stoning. Certainly not a voting...

Indeed, indeed, but back to the casting of Stone in the lizard Oz ...

But sadly this ancient relic stops short when it comes to explaining how to administer a sharp lesson, and so the pond had to revert to The Spectator ...

Indeed, indeed. Who can imagine anyone better than Bob Day to stand up for proper business practices - Bob Day defends Huxley Homes record as customers demand action - and what better way to strike a blow against Satan with the backing of Anti-gay marriage group Adelaide Arise ...

And so on and so forth, but the pond's real objection remains.

What is it about these ancient relics that they've retained no sense of humour?

These are the cartoons designed to make them laugh at The Spectator ...

Dear sweet long absent lord, pass the Rowe and the Pope and the Moir, please ... and waiter don't forget the pond likes its balsamic vinegar shaken, but not stirred ...

Day 100 of MUC and day 53 of MOC, and Dame Slap smotes the 'leets righteously ...

A hundred days of Malware's unofficial campaign, but hold the bells and whistles, there's only three more sleeps to the end of MOC!

Contemplating the miracle that we have made it this far, the pond was torn in the usual way, between a former 'leet federal minister lecturing the 'leets, and Dame Slap, 'leet member of the Oz reptile commentariat, who no doubt would mention the 'leets in her column.

Was there any other member of the 'leets worth noticing? Perhaps a vulgarian former commodities broker who looted his time as a member of the European parliament?

Dreadful cad? Oh say old chap that's a bit strong.

But as always, the pond resolved its dilemma in the traditional, conservative way. If there are lessons to be learned, then the pond must sit at the feet of the mistress of all, Dame Slap, and learn the hard way ...

The Dame didn't disappoint. It took until the fifth par, but there they were, the pesky 'leets who will say anything to get power and to keep it.

These wretches treat voters as stupid and insult their intelligence, and by golly, let's have no slurs against Britain's proud history and its future. Did it need the help of the United States and the Russians in the second world war? Of course not, the proud British lion stood up against the Nazi hordes and gave them a jolly good thrashing ...

Much the same as it won the first world war and gave those damned Egyptians a what for over Suez ...

Of course in later years, as John Oliver joked, many have spent their time leaving the British and their empire, rather than endeavouring to join it ...

But let us not ponder proud British history and its proud future as an island rump adjacent to a Europe frequently cut off by fogs, for we must learn the rest of Dame Slap's hard lesson ...

Splendid stuff, leading off again with another reference to snooty and clueless elites, and what a splendid lesson to learn in relation to Australia.

It seems that there are no 'leets here.

Instead, discerning voters will turn out for a filthy rich multi-millionaire toff busy restoring copper communications to the land and organising a plebiscite that no one dares say how they will respond to ...

Thank the long absent lord there are no pesky 'leets in this wonderful country; thank the long absent lord that there are no 'leets scribbling away at the lizard Oz in aid of a bunch of Tory 'leetists wanting to keep on rorting and refusing to answer in the usual way ...

Thank the long absent lord there's no point giving these absent 'leets a little ginger and chilli at the ballot box.

And thank the long absent lord there are no pesky 'leets using simple-minded, half-arsed rhetoric about elites from their ivory-towered space where they're paid generous, some might say handsome sums of money, to blather on for Chairman Rupert ...

And thank the long absent lord things will get even better after the election, as David Pope, that dangerous 'leetist predicted in his 'leet cartoon - warning, more 'leet Pope cartoons here ...

Mmm, is there a 'leet joker in that pack?

Day 99 of MUC and day 52 of MOC, and it's time to catch up with the bromancer brexiting away...

And so to another bout of ...

But first, what's this in Chairman Rupert's rag? News of a terrible, shocking, shameful defeat, with managers and players falling like flies?

Now the pond is not one for gloating, especially when it involves a sport that the pond affects a Caterist disdain for ... but if anybody's wondering why England was defeated by a rabble of Vikings, the answer is simple ...

The damned porridge eaters supported Iceland! Icelandic flag inside!

And David Cameron's calling for the country to unite. And off to Europe to present a bold united front. And Boris is saying it's never been more European and will be eternally European into the future! What say you, damned haggis munchers?

Meanwhile, the Graudian seems to be falling apart, just like Britain, this day, as it's full of news of the triple A credit rating loss, a remarkable increase in racial abuse, the pound still in freefall, banks dropping like flies, and both parties in crisis, and Boris back from the cricket to scribble a newspaper column ... because that will surely fix everything ...

Dearie me, what a bunch of nervous nellies, worrywarts, all handwringing and anxious.

In times like this, the pond always turns to a safe pair of hands and can there be anyone safer or more insightful or reassuring than the bromancer?

Now admittedly the bromancer offering this day is short weight, as is much of the lizard Oz these days, and he seems to have retreated from the delirious oneiric triumphalism that made him unreadable a few days ago ...

And so on, the pond had to trim it a little to keep it vaguely digestible, but what an ode to joy. Take responsibility!

So where are we this day, as things continue to fall apart, and the absent centre fails to hold?

Yes, everybody, calm down, the war is lost and won, and now to win the peace, and everything is for the best in the best of all worlds ... 

Otherwise if you panic and kick a nearby Pole,  you'll make the bromancer look like a toothless grinning idiot when it comes to prophesying ...

Never mind, when Vlad the impaler sets his sights on the Ukraine, everyone will stand solid ... and besides there are now local pleasures afoot, and as always a Rowe cartoon to celebrate and more Rowe cartoons here ...

Day 99 of MUC and day 52 of MOC, and a dégustation of Caterism is bound to please the inner city hipster ...

As surely as Tuesday follows Monday most days of the week, the stereoscopic Caterist can be spotted in the lizard Oz ...

Explaining why the redistribution of wealth via taxpayer grants to people is a bad thing, except when it's a taxpayer grant to the Caterist pride and joy, the Menzies Research Centre ...

After all, there's redistributing wealth, and then there's a minor readjustment of wealth, and where's the harm in that?

And so to today's reading ...

Indeed, indeed. Whenever the pond feels like an inspirational role model for the Caterists, it turns to good old Ben's election pitch in 1949.

Ben lost handsomely, Ming the Merciless swept into power for a very long reign, and in due course, the Caterist Menzies Research Centre could be named in his honour and it could pillage taxpayer grants with wild abandon ...

What's not to like about that taxpayer grant light on the hill?

And so to the second gobbet, because with the Caterists one gobbet of grants can never be enough, and 'entrepreneur' means knowing how to score a grant ...

Splendid stuff, the pond can never read enough abuse of hipsters emanating from a bunker which happens to be situated deep in Surry Hills, but it has to be said that the pond felt the need to amend the Caterist's last line ...

Contrary to the Caterist thesis, it falls to the Menzies Research Centre to save governments from wasting money on schools and education, and instead to the applying of funds where most urgently needed, the Menzies Research Centre.

How else are we to get bearded barista inner-city coffee shop jokes paid for indirectly by the taxpayer as they keep the jokester in the grant style to which he has clearly become accustomed?

Never mind, it gives the pond a chance to run a little burst by Mark Latham sneering at the "ology" student for his pretend affection for the great unwashed.

Remember taxi-driver arm-breaking Latham? They burned his ashes and sent them to type columns for the Daily Terror ... but back in the day ...

There's a lot more abuse of Caterists here, but it reminded the pond that it was likely to bump into the Caterist in inner Sydney, or perhaps watch in mesmerised fascination as the ponce  knocked off a flute of the SSO champagne at twelve bucks the pop with the skill of an anaconda devouring a government grant ... while gazing out at the lights bouncing off the harbour water in the emerald city.

Ah such a sweet life, and with bonus barista jokes to plunder!

Never mind, after an extensive dégustation of Caterism, the pond always insists on a cartoon, and thankfully there is always David Pope on hand here ... let it stand as the pond's tribute to the Caterist and Menzies Research Centre contribution to global climate science ...

Day 98 of MUC and day 51 of MOC, and the pond settles down to a nice cup of Magna Carta and an Oreo ...

(Above: Fox News alerting America with all that's true and correct).

The arguments go long into the night at the pond, but the pond can't be dissuaded, and insists that despite the enormous competition at the lizard Oz, the Oreo wafer remains the silliest biscuit in the commentariat pack.

The pond acknowledges this is not universally popular or accepted.

There are many who argue in favour of the powerhouse Caterist combine of Cater and Rebecca Weisser, while others maintain an affectionate old-fashioned rage for the Shanahans, suggesting that the Angela makes up for any attempt at moderation and insight by the bouffant one. Some won't let go of the bromancer, others will always remain loyal to Moorice. And it's true that the world has never seen a better climate scientist.

But for a moment this morning, the reptiles offered this piquant juxtaposition ...

And the pond entered the halls of the Valhalla commentariat justified and righteous.

Now Niall Ferguson has appeared in these pages before, and having given him a kicking, it seems only fair to give him first kick ...

Indeed, indeed. A feeble effort from an allegedly conservative commentator, and now it's the Oreo's turn to blow the lad out of the park with a rhetorical effort that's way better than anything even the bromancer could manage in recent days ...

Scintillating stuff, and as the pond expected, it left Ferguson with nowhere to go ...

Indeed, indeed, shallow glib-fear mongering.

No wonder the Oreo could gazump this with a wafer-sharp rhetorical flourish, triumphantly concluding with Magna Carta!

Oh no, you say, she didn't really go there, did she? Yep, she really did ...

Poor Fergo. What's an historian to do when an Oreo leads with the Magna Carta? Does the lad even know how to play open misère?

FCUK up against Magna Carta?

Now is there anyone out there not in awe of the Oreo wafer?

Oh sure the Rowes of the world might make easy jokes ... (and more estimable Rowe here) ...

But in the pond's humble opinion, Ferguson, Britain, EU and the world have been given a damned good Oreo going over. And so, with apologies to Hancock, and his half hour:

MOTHER: Would you like a cup of tea, Jimmy? 
JIM: Tea? Tea? Is that your answer to it all? Tea? The panacea to the middle class! The answer to all the problems facing mankind today? Have a cup of tea, Jim! You both make me sick. You're dead, both of you. You're both mentally dead. Your souls are drowned in tea. Your minds are clogged up with tea bags. You're like two slop basins swimming around in a sea of tea! Just like this country, the whole rotten system, stained in a tea of apathy! 
BROTHER: What's he mean, Mum? 
MOTHER: I don't think he wants a cup of tea. Would you like a cup of Magna Carta and an Oreo biscuit instead Jimmy?