ERDBERG: “What if Erwin Schrödinger's neither dead nor alive pussy had felt it had an itchy tail while waiting in that box?” muses Payton L. Inkletter

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

In other news…

12th August 2009:

Wednesday: It was almost six when I got to bed, frustrated by the clunky user interface at 4shared.com where I was endeavouring to gain some control over a flood of spam comments of recent times arriving under many of my audio recordings of my short humorous stories. Ultimately, I had to disable the whole comments facility, due the inability to efficiently delete the spam (try deleting several hundred viagra and cialis tainted comments, one at a bloody time, because the facility to tick them all and delete them in one fell swoop does not exist!). And so, having spent a couple of hours at it after my whole wee hours night of writing, this fruitless task interfered with my rest. I have emailed suggestions to the folk at 4shared.com, who, by the way, have always been very helpful and pleasant in my personal dealings.

And so my plans to be up to greet and socialise with Reeve Chocson, who called in to give me a bottle of his herbal blaster hooch to help me with one of my many health problems (and I’ve decided to abstain from all tea and coffee while on the high octane killer juice, and bear in mind that can mean not having twenty, yes twenty, tea bags some days), evaporated, and I spent the entire day in a fog of sleep and dozing, till almost sundown, when he called in again with The Dear Leader, whom he’d kindly taken out for the entire afternoon, but I hadn’t even surfaced in time to say hello yet again.

I also missed Baby Inkletter, who had called by for dressmaking fittings with the material girl, her mother, my missus, the Birmingham beauty, and also the most bootyful woman in Nebadon. I was up in time for din dins with Umple Dais and The Dear Leader, except that my sister Mary rang, on behalf of my mother, just at sit down time, with a request for help to get her TV-VCR combination working, over the phone. It took twenty minutes, but fortunately I had used both remote controls yesterday, and this memory helped get some joy for Mum eventually.

It was a pleasure to see Kerry O’Brien’s interview with Attorney-General Robert McClelland, for the latter man was restrained, professional, and all the things that all the rest could be. Yes, their subject is one well worth being a lot wary of, that is the extension of our terrorism laws.

I got in a stint of writing before Lateline: The (Leigh) sales graph: Ms Sales looked very nice, but not as spectacular as she has of late, due two simple things: a tad too much eye make up – this lass has such lovely eyes, they need little help – and her hair was too flat: full hair, flairing out wider, does kinder things to her facial type. Anyway, who am I to judge?: just a red blooded bull koala, with an eye for beauty among the gum trees. Her blue long sleeved top was lovely and smart, and despite my ten cents worth, she still looked great. Now as much as it hurts to draw attention to a positive in Christopher Pyne, I now will: Ms Sales’ interview on tomorrow’s Emissions Trading vote with the federal politician who unkind people have said his mother should have drowned at birth, revealed firstly just how smart he dresses, classy and immaculate in fact, which he doubtless believes is all helping his chances of being Prime Minister one day (God help us; don’t do that to us please!). Anyway, in general, it’s so much easier for men, for we can wear the same style all the time, while women feel pressured to change their styles all the time, with the likely result that often they’ll look way less good than at their best, while when a bloke gets it right, he can acceptably stick with it, just changing colours and ties a bit. Yes, Christopher Pyne, Manager of Opposition Business, looked so raffish he was a template tonight.

As for the interview, again, is it fair of some folk to suggest Ms Sales has to down a couple of Maxolons to curb her retching whenever she has to interview him? I’ll leave my billions of daily readers to judge what they think of such hard hitters. Anyway, Mr Pyne is articulate, too pedantic for his own good often, but again, while I think he and his party are saturated with politics on the Climate Change issue, I also think so are Labor. The complexity of climate change is so great that I’m far from convinced that carbon emissions are the main culprit here and now, even though they must be part of it all. It seems the Labor Government are rushing despite enormous doubts being raised by many credible sources; how about a bit more consideration of the scientific issues? But don’t think I enjoy pollution; I would like to breathe clean air everywhere; I just don’t want to see economies stressed unwisely and unnecessarily, based on ideology or emotion-charged videos of icebergs collapsing.

I enjoyed Ali Moore’s Lateline Business interview with the Commonwealth Bank's CEO Ralph Norris; my word Ms Moore’s techniques are a lesson! She charms her interlocutor to supply as much information as she can safely get, while Kezza goes in and bludgeons his victim senseless. Anyway, Mr Norris withstood some of the charm, and kept a few things inside his head, despite Ms Moore’s knavish attempts.

I fell gladly into the sanctuary of my back room and my writing, for the entire wee small hours. Remember, I’m going cold turkey on tea and coffee from today. I did have my legendary impossible strength unsweetened bucket of cocoa, though. Don’t anyone get between me and my cocoa if he or she wants to retain their consciousness unbroken…

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