In which the pond spins the platters that matter for Boris, the bromancer and the dog botherer ...

The pond is always pleased for the reptiles when they find love ...

Things haven't been going well for for the bromancer in recent years. The fling with the onion muncher never worked out. They never really settled down, and towards the end of the onion muncher's tragically brief reign, the bromancer would fling sharp words at him.

It's never a pretty sight, to see a romance breaking down, and it's even worse when it's been a long-standing relationship ...

But as Chance reminds us, in the spring there will be flowers, and hope springs eternal, and how sweet it is to see young things gambol in the grass, and staid older folk hold hands and gaze into each other's eyes with longing and yearning ...

You can imagine the tremulous excitement, the secret furtive thrill that ran through the pond at the reptile splash today ...

No, not that one, you useless sub, this one ...

Now the dog botherer is a gloomy, difficult sod, hard to love, and even harder when it comes to giving love, but the bromancer claps hands and sings with delight at the sight of his approaching love ...

Oh the cute dimpled imp, how he delights, how he appeals ... and lo, look, there beside him, is his loved one, gazing at him with adoring eyes and unconcealed delight, utterly beguiled by his playful, pixie ways ...

Now the pond realises that the reptiles labelled the bromancer piece as "Inquirer", and so it is, in the sense that it inquires into the wonders and joys of being Boris, and being a bromancer infatuated with the Boris ... and like all love letters, it takes many words before consummation is reached ...

Let us ignore the mis-use and abuse of "rolled gold" (a thin layer of gold applied to cheap base metals such as brass and used in cheap jewellery). 

How can an infatuated reptile be expected to concentrate on mere tedious words when heart skips a beat and dances with delight ... for when Boris says he absolutely loves Australia, surely this is a mere ploy, an easy metaphorical transference, for the deep infatuation he feels for the bromancer. 

No matter how they try to talk about containing the strong romantic drives of the adolescent, we know what these words reveal of the hearts concealed ...

Sure, Boris has had other flings ...

... but they've gone wrong, turned sour ...

He needs a down under soul buddy, and by golly, the bromancer is the buddy for him ...

Yes, Boris is at ease with the Donald, and understands what drives him ...

Sure the Donald's sacking all around him in a bid to prevent his deep corruption from being exposed, but the bromancer and Boris are undeterred ...

Indeed, indeed, and best of all, Boris is a reptile lover ...

It's a match made in heaven, though the pond expects a little dark muttering from the onion muncher in due course ...

And now because a few stray readers are gluttons for punishment, and love to see the other side of humanity - the climate denialist, dark, angry side - there's just room for the dog botherer's embittered letter of hate ...

It's worth remembering when reading this angry missive that, as well as being a modest minor war criminal in the Iraq war affair, the dog botherer is a major climate scientist, which gives him the authority to speak on all related matters, especially energy ...

Around this point, the pond would like to remind the reader of a recent piece in Crikey in relation to the dog botherer ...

The rest is still here outside the Crikey paywall, but the pond must hasten on because there are still many miles to travel and the night is fast approaching ...

Oh perhaps there's just time for a little more of that Crikey piece, though the original offers more, and with links too ...

But all good things must end, and speaking of dishonesty, here's the last gobbet from the minor war criminal ...

Um actually, if the pond might speak boldly, the dog botherer is actually a cl*m*t* sc**nc* d*n*al*ist fuckwit of the first water ...

It's strange how right wing fuckwittery works. Like the Donald hoping that Obamacare will implode and millions will have their health care and their lives ruined, so the dog botherer yearns for South Australia to explode and for the lights to go out ...

Weird, this deeply pathological level of destructive angry fixation, and yet, for someone who cheerfully embarked on the destruction of a country, perhaps no big deal ...

And with all that out of the way, there's time for a Rowe, with more ways to Rowe the American boat here ... 

But dammit, did he have to mention that bloody song yet again? Will it never go away? 

Will someone write in saying how they loved the theme from Love Story, when everyone knows that the theme from A Summer Place is even more irritating,  and aficionados appreciate Ebb Tide, not just because it was used as the theme for Sweet Bird of Youth, but because the Righteous Brothers wrung every bit of soppiness out of it ... 

Yes, this one is for Boris and the Bromancers, as the pond spins the platters that matter for mature lovers everywhere riding who knows where on the rollercoaster of pimpled teen love and hurt battered feelings, and angry alienated despair...