At last a chance to Brexit with the bromancer ...

The thought of the pond scoring a robocall from the arm breaker sometime in the future filled the pond with such nausea that it had to turn away, but to what?

The reptiles watching Q and A and breathlessly reporting on the latest news of the love affair with dinkum clean Oz coal, oi, oi …?

Hardly. The pond never watches Q and A, so the thought of reading a reptile transcript is possibly like being bound on a wheel of fire, with molten lead poured into the eye sockets...

Sure, there was always the siren song of the Caterist, but as he was warning of the dangers of subsidy the gag was so obvious it could wait until later …

No, it had to be the bromancer on Brexit, to see how Vlad the impaler's inspired major policy initiative for Britain was proceeding…

But the pond thought it might be best to get to the bromancer by way of an elaborate detour. 

After all, the Murdochians had loudly brayed in favour of Brexit, so the news would surely see them heiling Boris as the new leader in exile …

Dearie me, that wasn't the tone the pond was expecting, and sad to say, it seems that the column was scribbled before Boris had managed to flush himself out of the system ...

Ah, at last a cultural reference point the pond understood …

The son of a theatrical music writer and a New York actress named Elsie Cattermole, Claude Cattermole "Catsmeat" Potter-Pirbright is the brother of actress Cora "Corky" Pirbright, who is also known by her stage name, Cora Starr. Catsmeat is engaged to Gertrude Winkworth, the daughter of Dame Daphne Winkworth. Himself a West End actor, Catsmeat generally plays the role of the hero's light-hearted friend carrying the second love interest in comedies. Catsmeat and Bertie Wooster went together to Malvern House Preparatory School, where Catsmeat was described in a report by the headmaster Aubrey Upjohn as "brilliant but unsound". He was also with Bertie at secondary school at Eton, and at the University of Oxford.
Catsmeat's nickname is probably derived at least in part from the similarity of "Cattermole" to "cat's meat" (meaning meat prepared for cats).
... His main role is in the Jeeves novel The Mating Season, during which he gets Gussie Fink-Nottle to climb fully clothed into the Trafalgar Square fountain. 
In that novel, he pretends to be Bertie's valet, calling himself Meadowes, and inadvertently becomes temporarily engaged to Queenie Silversmith.
He also appears in "Jeeves and the Greasy Bird", in which he and Bertie discuss the theatrical agent, Jas Waterbury. He collaborates with Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps to write an article titled "Some Little-Known Cocktails" for Wee Tots. Ultimately, he plans to go to Hollywood. (More for Greg Hunters here).

Was it only by chance that last night the pond's logarithms threw up the full first episode of Jeeves and Wooster on YouTube, with Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie?

Here for anyone who prefers to be transported to silly fantasy England rather than endure more idle chatter about grim modern Britain because just as Catsmeat got involved in the Borstal rugger scandal, so football metaphors are likely to be the go ...

Those damned Irish, who have been tormenting the Poms for centuries. How pleased the pond's ancestors, fleeing their diet of ruined potatoes, would be …but how shocking that Massie should borrow a staple Irish joke of the kind that really only the Irish should be permitted to tell …

I suppose Ireland is the best place in the world for directions. People will say to you, “I wouldn’t start from here if I were you.” I was driving to Wicklow town and outside Wicklow town there’s a kind of country road and I came to a cross road and there was one sign post and it had Wicklow on it and the other way was Wicklow. And there was a fella sitting there and I said does it make any difference? And he said, “Not to me it doesn’t.” (And more Dave Allen here).

And around this point the pond must plead guilty to not taking this train wreck seriously, as we seem to have reached the last phases of a big project, with the hunt for the guilty and the punishment of the innocent well in hand …

Bearing all that in mind it was time to turn to the bromancer, but before proceeding the pond felt the need for a little more mood-setting. 

Maestro, dim the lights if you will, so that the pond might enter its time machine ...

Yes, back then the bromancer was wildly excited, and he simply couldn't help but blather on endlessly about the joy and the wonder of it all ...

Jolly good stuff, but now the pond's time machine has saved a long tedious march through further bromancer celebrations of the joys and the wonders of Brexit so that it might land on the latest bromancer missive ...

Around this point, the pond, bored by the bromancer's contortions, would usually import a cartoon ...

But there's more cartoons at the Graudian here, and for the sake of those who refuse to be distracted by the humour in the situation, the pond must press on with the bromancer …who suddenly seems to realise that perhaps he was a little too triumphalist, perhaps a little too "Catsmeat" Potter-Pirbright in his earlier analyses ...

Hmm, the bromancer's euphoria seems to have settled a little. Where's all the talk of a triumph of democracy?

It left the pond with a forlorn, poignant cry: where's "Catsmeat" Potter-Pirbright when he's needed? 

Must the pond rely on the thoughts of the Churchill of our times? Should the carnival barker return so that he might have a good bark alongside the bromancer?

Well the pond will bet a ha'penny to a pound that the bromancer will fudge it all, and finish up with a sporting metaphor ...

Sport? The goalkeeper's fear of the penalty? Is that the best the bromancer can muster after the euphoria's died away?

How about a poem instead, one the pond routinely deploys when celebrating the finest achievements of the Murdochians, and their new chum, Vlad the impaler…

Or perhaps just another cartoon ...