In which it's always a good time for a sodden Groaning, or a war by Xmas with the bromancer ...

 

 

With those helpful additions, spain-and-portugal-suffering-driest-climate-for-1200-years-research-shows, lake-mead-drops-to-a-record-low, the reptiles have finally got around to noticing soggy Sydney and surrounds ...

 Never mind the devastated communities, marvel at the inflation shock ...

 

  

 

Meanwhile, on another reptilian planet the commentariat were beavering away, with some hapless loon called in to pretend that the reptiles gave the foggiest about charging electric cars ... Killer Creighton has already patiently explained why they're just an idle dream, a complete waste of time ...

So with battery charged thanks to Killer power, the pond knew that was just meaningless tosh, drivel of the first water, and that a good Groaning would show the proper reptile way ...

 

 

 

 

Of course, of course ... what soggy Sydney needs right now is yet another bit of groaning about energy, renewables, and the whole damn thing ...

Yes, yes, dear old Groaner, a fiendish array of solar panels, which are up there with a vast congregation of wind turbines as offences to the reptilian eye - pluck thine eye out, the pond kindly suggests ...

The pond doesn't mean to tell the reptiles how to suck eggs, but do solar panels really have the same visceral impact as those dark satanic windmills?

 

 

 

 When you've got a good meme going, why drop everything for solar panels.

 Meanwhile, the pond can hear some stray loon bleating "shouldn't we be meditating about the floods, and soggy Sydney, and the rains not falling on the plains in Spain (and Portugal and the west coast of the US and sundry other places, while rain seems to drop like buckets other places) ... you know... costs, inflation, peril, yadda yadda ..."

The pond must stop talking to itself, because never mind the climate or the planet, or the inflation shock on the tree killer front page ...

 

Never mind any of that, there's a bloody good groaning to be done, but sorry, in the world of the Groaner doing a groaning, when the tough get groaning, and the groaning gets tough, we don't mention climate science ...

 

A disorderly transition? Would that have something to do with the rain dropping in buckets on soggy Sydney, or the rain not falling on the plains in Spain?

Sorry, sorry, it was wrong of the pond to mention it ... let us instead finish with a good groaning, a proper yearning, for dinkum clean decent Oz coal ...

Meanwhile, in soggy Sydney, there's going to be a long, painful and expensive process to rectify the problems ... and while it's not the same without the infallible Pope and the immortal Rowe, there's always the road to take with Wilcox ...

Oh yes, we'll get from here to there and back again from there to here, with a jolly good Groaning ...

Meanwhile, astute reptile watchers will have noted that the bromancer was at the top of the digital page this day ...

What set him off? Could it have been the news on the far left at the top of the digital page?

 

Whatever, the bromancer went on one of his endless repetitive rants, replete with a number of pond-neutered click bait videos ...

 

 

 

 

 

With the greatest respect to Glen, he's just not the immortal Rowe ... but he can draw a feisty koala ...

 

 

 

But that won't placate the warrior bromancer.

The pond has said it at least once, heck perhaps a zillion times, but until the federal government comes to its senses, and appoints the bromancer at least head of defence, if not Generalfeldmarschall, then for all that Wong-minded blather, we're simply not going to be ready for war with China by Xmas ...

Forget the bloody Ukrainians, forget the sociopathic Vlad the impaler at work on the killing fields, we've got to bung on a do down under ... 

Bugger it, if we've got to take a stand, it's everybody for themselves, and let the bromancing devil take the hindmost, and why are we sending Ukraine any kit it all ... except maybe the tanks, because how could it be a work by our Generalfeldmarschall in waiting if it didn't mention those bloody tanks ...

 

 

 

 

 

Once again the pond was reminded that this colossal mess can only be sorted by the finest of minds ... and in our hour of need, why haven't we turned to the astute, if slightly hysterical, thinking of the pond's favourite fundamentalist tyke? 

Perhaps the rain in truly sodden Sydney has clouded the pond's senses ... but it seems the only right and proper solution ...no, no, not to the colossal mess of climate science denialism, that war with China by Xmas, for all the Wong thinking that's going on ...

 

 

 

The government must drive it politically? Surely that's a typo, or would it have been indiscreet to be open about it, come right out and say Generalfeldmarschall bromancer will drive it through the astonishing powers of his keyboard ... because there's nothing like the smell of a pounding keyboard in the morning ...

 

 

Indeed, indeed, but until we have the right Generalfeldmarschall bromancer in charge of proceedings, the pond senses that the country, perhaps the entire planet, will drift into extreme danger. What if we can't bung on a do by Xmas, what then? It simply doesn't bear thinking about ...

Meanwhile, what to do when missing the baroque ornamentation of the missing Rowe? 

Well there's always a Rowson celebrating patriotism and patriots of the finest stripe, with more at the Graudian here ... and occasionally when stricken by doubt, the pond can always find comfort thinking that we could be Britain ...