A Friday potpourri of Boris, whiff-waff, Erica, dishlickers, chooks and a dog botherer too lazy to fetch a decent column ...

(Above: and more Moir here).

Having relished the assorted listicles of Boris's foreign follies - Graudian here, Politico got up to 11 here, The Independent enjoyed seven insults to furriners here - and having definitively settled the matter of whiff-waff thanks to an ITTF pdf here,  the pond resolved that it was time to put away childish things, and focus on a decent domestic reptile ...

Naturally the pond had to rush past Malware bailing out the party with a cool million, and Erica, trending with gale force winds on Twitter ...

Naturally ABC journos rushed to Erica for a dose of easy copy ...

That story here, and it took the pond awhile to work out the deep subtlety and nuance in Erica's long game. 

By acting like such a half-baked goose and squawking loon, Erica was subtly persuading the pond to develop a deep sympathy for Malware. 

No human being should be made to suffer such nonsense, gladly or without gladioli, with poor old Malware having to stump up cool hard cash, while Erica and fellow Tasmanian twit Kevin Andrews presided over an electoral massacre in the deep south and then took it as a mandate to whinge about Malware. Rivers deep, mountains high, Erica's delusions wide, sang Tina Turner ...

But the pond is made of sterner stuff - it took just a whiff of NBN copper essence and HFC connectivity to forsake Malware and return the pond to its senses.

Sadly when it looked around, it discovered that all the Murdochians had gone off to the doggies in a rage. It was another fiendishly clever subterfuge. By hounding and berating Mike Baird, no doubt they hoped to generate a little sympathy in the pond for motorway man Baird.

Bereft of a colossus this day - no Moorice on view railing at the UN - the pond reluctantly had to return to doggie matters, but at least it was in company with the dog botherer, a well-known disturber and destroyer of hounds ...

It looked like an epic rant was coming up, a frothing and a foaming and a fulmination, and angry denunciations, a full tabloid effort worthy of the Terror, which has been making hay with its many dishlicker debacle stories ...

That's it, that's all?

An obligatory reference to the nanny state on steroids? When are we going to get the nanny state on crack cocaine?

And the dog botherer didn't even name the ABC, because, you know, all that stuff in Four Corners was just a jolly jape amongst a few chums ...

It would have been nice for the dog botherer to have actually expended some energy, and actually responded to some of the stories currently doing the rounds ...

More of that here ... including the working video and links.

Instead we get the usual slippery slope argument, from dog racing to horses to chook yards to the Easter show, in the same way that gay marriage leads to polygamy, bestiality and general perversity.

It's lazy writing, lazy thinking and typical of recent dog botherer outings. 

You can't spread a thin brain thinly around assorted media outlets without the thin reflexive response showing in a knee-jerk ideological response ...

As for chook yards, the pond has bad news for the dog botherer. No doubt in Adelaide, where News Corp reptiles must keep chooks to supplement their income and their diet with cheap eggs, the keeping of chooks is easy. But in Sydney, the councils already determine how chook yards are run and built ...

There's more here, for those who want to bring a little Tamworth into their lives and want their structures to conform to appropriate development standards, but here's the pond's complaint. Where was the dog botherer when the chooks were being impounded?

More to the point, does he really think in these troubled times, when the young forsake drivers' licenses and cars for socialistic sharing or amble around Pokémon Go,  that Baird hadn't calculated the political risks and the likely fall-out from the Nats, Barners, and assorted luddite reptiles - as opposed to say, hurting James Packer and his casino, tackling gambling, poker machines, alcohol or sundry other social ills?

The dogs were already on their way out of Glebe, and now they're on the way out in the rest of NSW, and clearly Baird thinks he can contain the damage. Never mind, the more the reptiles wound him in their dishlicking frenzy, the better it works for the pond.

It was around this point in the world of perversity and reptile pain that the pond realised it would probably have been better off sticking with Boris's gaffes.

Or perhaps rounding up the sheep with Rowe, and more Rowe here ...

Yes, demented sheep rather than tortured greyhounds ... but at least it allows the pond to slip in a movie reference, even if it should be Tasmanian sheep that are pissed off ...