In which the pond returns to find the reptiles have wrecked the house, and the bromancer is doing Chance the Gardener impressions ...

What heartbreakers the reptiles are ... the pond only has to turn away for a moment, avert eyes for a nanosecond, and they're up to their usual mischief wrecking the joint, just like the schoolkids who once tortured the pond ...

And so, it seems, are the NSW plods ...

"Fixated persons unit"? That's the name you chose out of the many available, and without even considering for a moment the folly of it all?

Okay, okay, the pond is a little on edge, being a person fixated on reptiles and therefore known as the crazy of the neighbourhood.

But why couldn't you just have settled for something simple and not value laden or evocative of persecution, like "barking mad fundamentalist crazy howling at moon fixated folk we must neuter in our plod way"?

"Fixated," you dumb fucks? You really should have read a little Orwell, or perhaps watched a little Kubrick ...

There you go plods ... it's the unit for tracking the single-minded, fanatical, hung up obsessed weird fuckers who threaten to ruin everything... a credit for the pond would be appreciated ...

Never mind, the pond back to seeing the way the pond steps out of the tent for a moment, isn't gone for very long (just a toe or two lost to the frostbite), and returns to find the reptiles have gone mad ...

There's the stern Savva, writing more in sorrow than fixated anger ...

There's Gra Gra reminding the pond that sections of the Labor party have always been an enthusiastic supporter of jingoism and the White Australia policy ...

Oh go take a boat trip on the Gold Coast with a hooker, in the Australian way ...

And there was the usual climate denialist out and about strutting his fear-mongering stuff ... no, no, not a fear of climate science projections, a fervent fear for his fossilised future ...

And look, over at the Terror, all seems to be forgiven, and the young pup, barely dry behind his ears, ready to learn how to be a savaging hound, tearing the poor and the helpless from limb to limb ... because that's what young, self-satisfied dogs must do ...

Oh fuck, having enough cash to put food on the table and avoid camping out under the light rail is like heroin?

Why not bite off your own leg for a change, you useless self-satisfied Murdochian cur?

Given the many opportunities, it was perverse of the pond to resist all these temptations to settle on the bromancer ... but it's been such a long time since the pond has contemplated a bromancer yarn ...

That's the best we've got? The sun's still rising, and thanks to the climate denialists, it's still heating the planet to a fine old crisp?

Of course the google splash hinted at a deeper silliness ...

Say what? We've already reached the 100 days?

But the pond could have sworn that the Donald still had a couple of days left, in which he could fix everything and pass many exciting measures.

Why the wiki the pond Greg Hunted, "First 100 days of Donald Trump's presidency",  did this impeccable calculation:

The first 100 days of Donald Trump's presidency began with his inauguration as the 45th President of the United States, which occurred at noon on January 20, 2017. The 48th Vice President of the United States, Mike Pence, was inaugurated the same day. The 100th day of Trump's presidency will be April 29, 2017.

So what's the date on the bromancer piece? Is it a couple of days out, and he just doesn't care about a day here or there, because he wants to get in early and fill a slot in the reptile rag?

Seems like it, but isn't this a classic Donald thing to do?

Never mind the accuracy, just count the millions of illegal votes and the billions who attended the inauguration and the squillions of this and the zillions of that ...

And so with the 27th transmuted into the 29th by reptile magic, who will save us from the Donald?

And there's the cunningness of the plan laid bare.

Given there's a crazy in the White House, we must turn to a fundamentalist Xian, who conducts his personal relationship with his wife like Billy Graham on steroids?

We must turn with relief to a barking mad evolution-denying, climate science-rejecting, women's bodies are mine to control and legislate on, wound-way too tight crazy, showing signs of being deeply fixated, for our salvation?

What could be more sensible, what could be more reassuring?

And then, as expected, this scribbler for an American proprietor explains how everything is shipshape with the Yanks, even if they have a few dotty uncles in the attic and one in the White House ...

Indeed, indeed, the changes in Syria have been astonishing. Assad given up, the Russians fled, and absolutely not interfering in the French election, and Erdogan turned humble democrat and refusing to enact the phoney result of his fixed referendum ...

Call it the Donald magic, and have another sip of the kool aid, and while you're at it, sob along with the Oz editorialist ...

Mate, mate, we luvs ya, we luvs ya sooh much ... we're such buddies mate. What a pity we couldn't go into the Philippines with ya ...another time mate, maybe North Korea later this year ...

Not to worry, it's time for another bromancer gobbet and then the pond is done ... diddled once again by these restless children, always ready to confuse the pond and make it lose track of the days, of time and fixated meaning itself ...

But it was worth the read to the end, it was worth getting confused and losing a couple of days here and there, just to get to those closing thoughts ...

...the very fact of so many reversals, many of them regarding China, calls into question again the value, or at least the durability, of any pronouncements Trump makes. For all that, the net assessment is that the Trump administration is getting better and that many of the President’s instincts are good.

Chance the Gardener couldn't have put it better. The sun will shine, the spring will come, and then the fall and the winter, and there will be growth, and if you watch a lot of television, it's all good ...provided the ratings are sound and you're not on the Ten network.

Does the bromancer ever listen to what he writes? Does he read it back to himself before sending it out? Or does he think writing with the style and flair of the naming department of the NSW plods will see him hailed for his genius?

Well there is an upside, and it's not that the sun shines except when it rains or disappears back into the Garden of Eden where Mike Pence hopes to live ...

It's just that the wackier it gets, the funnier the Pope gets, and if this isn't the most demented portrait of Cory to do the rounds, the pond would love to see the better one, because it would have to be deeply weird. 

At the mere sight of that glow in the dark Terminator figure consorting with that little old lady, the pond's hair stood on end, and the pond was down the stairs and out the house quick stix, but not before mentioning that there's more demented Pope here ...

No doubt a lot of people have seen the joke, an old one but a goody ...