Margo: Malcolm is Webdiary's candidate in Wentworth. He writes: "Well, the Federal Election is shaping up to be as boring as batshit so webdiarist Malcolm B. Duncan decided to enlist some help to fulfill a promise he made me a while ago. The family pet writes...
CLAUDE’S DIARY DAY 1
Well, I suppose I ought to introduce myself: Claude’s the name and I’m diabetic. Fat and Rude has saved my life by nursing me back to health a few times so I suppose I owe him. But enough about him for the moment: I’m a cat so I’d rather talk about me.
I was born somewhere about 16 years ago. Didn’t know my parents very well because one was Persian and the other was Siamese. I guess that would make me the perfect terrorist – well, if I weren’t a cat. Don’t know about the rest of the family, I think I came out on a boat. Is that one of those damned Cockatoos on the balcony? Lousy eating and vicious.
Frightful thing diabetes: you get terribly distracted very easily.
Balcony? Ah, yes, the balcony. It’s in Wentworth looking west. It’s maintained (in a fashion) by Fat and Rude and She Who Must Be Disobeyed (“SWMBD”) well, truth to tell, I’m a cat and they both have to be disobeyed. Differentially, sequentially and disruptively. Preferably at 3 in the morning.
Now, how did I fall in with them? Well, truth to tell (and you have to accept that, bright as I am, I only have limited language skills and I am from migrant stock or as Fat and Rude calls us “Reffos”) it was like this. SWMBD’s father got crook shortly before I was born. An undecorated war hero from WWII, he had a bad turn and SWMBD’s sister had the idea that I would be a good companion while he was recovering from a massive heart attack. And I was – that’s why I’ve always wondered why they subjected me to The Operation. He put in a cat door and I used to bring him the catch of the day: rats (lots of rats around Kingsgrove), assorted wildlife, you know the stuff. I used to play a wonderful game with him by climbing trees or getting on the roof of the laundry and waiting until he got a ladder to get me down when I would jump down all by my kittenish self and show him how clever I was. He was pretty active for a bloke who’d had a heart attack.
Then, one day, he left us and I was stuck with the Lady; he got stuck in a dishwasher. Now, I tried: I understood how sad she was and I did try to help. I brought I don’t know how many rats, small mammals and the like by day and night but none of it seemed to cheer her up and then, one day I just got dumped with Fat and Rude and SWMBD. But they had great furniture. Fat and Rude likes tapestry upholstery. The only thing better for sharpening your claws than tree bark is tapestry upholstery. I discovered a thing called kapok – better than rats and doesn’t move as fast.
And I moved to the big end of town. No more Kingsgrove for me. Suddenly, I moved from a marginal Labor [sic] electorate to a place where labour is only known below stairs. Then I got the diabetes. Well, it’s a bit of a pain having to be injected with insulin twice a day but after 6 years I suppose I’m used to it. It’s fun going to the vet too. I’ve managed to wound 1,273 vet students who’ve tried to take blood curves and I’m the only transgender teenager registered at the needle exchange in Darlinghurst Road. But you might be wondering why I’m telling you all this. Well, Fat and Rude is running for Wentworth and he’s asked me to keep a diary. He says I have the same IQ as the average voter and it will save him some time.
I must admit though, I’m a bit scared of Malcolm Turnbull (I am a cat after all) but I’ll try to do my best. If they ever let me off the bloody balcony, I’ll let you know what’s happening on the campaign trail.
Lindsay
The day dawns. Apparently, Jacki Kelly strangles cats but she does it in a hajib. Hisssss.
Bloody New Zealander.
Now a friend of Fat and Rude's managed to get a copy of her psychological profile from the back of a truck and it turns out that they let her into the Air Force by mistake. She's got an IQ lower than mine but you could have told that just by the leaflet.
How dumb can you be? I heard that she, the candidate and their husbands all sat down and said something like well if we're on a hiding to nothing, maybe we could earn a quid at the ABC. After all the Chaser can't last forever.
I don't give a - well don't have to after The Operation.
There's a moggie down the hall and he and I reckon we're voting for Rudd.
Fat and Rude says they might need a crowbar to get Jeanette out of Kirribilli House. I reckon they need a crowbar to get her out of that dress she's wearing in the photo in today's Herald.
Happy voting - the cats of Wentworth have decided but we might vote for Fat and Rude in the by-election. Wonder if Anthony Green needs a diabetic cat?
Trade him in Claude
Claude: There is a very active Animal Lib branch down your way should you need it. They have a Companion Animals policy too I believe. Now I'll bet Fat and Rude has not got one of those so check it out. They might even do companion trade ins if you get desperate enough.
Is it adieu or au revoir?
Well, the moggie down the hall and I voted for Rudd and Fat and Rude voted for himself. Wrote his name in at the bottom of the paper and reckons that, of those candidates not standing, he got the most votes.
SWMBD isn’t saying but I gather at the afterparty she was describing herself as a socialist. Interestingly enough, the party was deep in Edgecliff and ¾ of the women there were cheering Rudd to victory. Some of the blokes were a bit hang-dog. That’s what you should do to dogs. TOM knows how but he’s never tried it on a dog. Thank goodness I stayed in.
Fat and Rude reckons he’s not over the line yet but it was a great day. Fat and Rude got another letter off to the AEC and had fun chatting to the Greens and the Labor [sic] bloke who’s a bit of a mate. The young Libs must have been warned off because they were being polite to the public and there wasn’t a Candidate in sight all day.
Fat and Rude has spent the morning sending abusive emails and threatening to take posters down unless they’re down by tomorrow. He got a reply from the Green and he’s offered to lend her his ladder and the Bunnings Ripper.
While Fat and Rude and SWMBD were out at the party, I was watching the ABC coverage. Now cats know about grooming. Did you notice that Wayne Swan, Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd all seem to be using the same barber? That bloke must have his own plane.
Well, apart from the by-elections, it’s all over now so, from me, it’s good-bye for now although I rather like this writing business (particularly when Fat and Rude and SWMBD are out). Wonder if Margo would offer me a permanent job – just an hour a day – I sleep or groom the rest of the time. I’ll do it for fish – no group certificate please – the bastards won’t give me an ABN even though I am registered at the needle exchange.
Go the Rudbot but we could lose the chopping.
E Day + 5
Don't these people listen?
He's still chopping. Maybe it's the religion.
Love Maxine, love Faulkner. Pity about McMullen. Crean in Trade? Oh well, I suppose they have to Me-too the Nationals.
Still no cat policy. I guess Julia will get around to it.
Fiona: OK, Claude, whiskers in the bowl - what would be your cat policy?
Purr, coy, smooge
Noticed at last. (I know she wears black).
Meeow [rub self on Fiona - fur sticks everywhere]
CAT POLICY
1. We have to get really serious about feline diabetes. I'm on caninsulin which comes from dogs [vomit]. The only good thing about it is that they are destroying dog's pancreases to keep me alive.
2. We have to get rid of dogs. Now, before you start, no-one ever expected a political platform to be logically consistent, least of all a politician.
3. We should be opening up national parks to more cats.
4. A fish subsidy would be good.
5. How do we pay for it? Tax dogs (see 2).
6. There should be a subsidy for tapestry upholstered furniture.
7. How do we pay for it? See 5.
8. Daylight saving should be adjusted so that here is only one hour of daylight. I call this the Queensland option.
9. Small birds and mammals should be retrofitted with lead weights - makes it much more efficient to count numbers - very important environmental policy.
10. Someone should strangle Malcolm Turnbull and throw him over a fence.
So, Fiona, purrrr, there you go: environment policy, fiscal policy, education policy, health policy and tough on crime all in one. Oh, and I should decide who comes to this country and what he brings me.
Purrrrrrrrrrrr.
Fiona: I do like a cat who knows that he (yes, I too can be polite) is being inconsistent. 2 indeed. Always said that you should only be handled with chainmail gloves.
Help wanted
I was curled up on SWMBD's bed this morning while she was reading the SMH. Apparently, TOM wants some new Policy Advisers and Fat and Rude doesn't think he'd get the job so I was wondering, I could do with the super. I probably know as much as anyone else about economics so, Webdiarists, what do you think? Should I have a go?
And some people say this site needs lightening up. Get a ninth life.
Your brilliant career
Claude, while the super might be attractive, I see two problems with your idea. First, you tell us that you spend much of your time asleep. TOM, on the other hand, allegedly sleeps very little. This could cause some difficulties in fulfilling the requirements of the position if your waking hours do not coincide. Second, given past history, it could be seen (on your part, that is) as a career limiting move.
That said, you probably do know as much as almost anybody about all manner of things; besides, your keyboard skills are impressive.
Day 24 - three to go to the by-election
Woke up - hungry. Ate - not hungry. Had my insulin. Fat and Rude has been out and about lunching causing mischief and not getting his letter published in various major dailies.
He says Dixie's office has disappeared overnight - rather much the fate you'd expect for Dixie.
Shithouse has also disappeared and the preference swap announced in today's Wentworth Courier is interesting. Despite the Arbib deal to preference the Greens, Shithouse is preferencing the Mistress and vice-versa. Could there be romance in the air again after the by-election? Don't care myself after The Operation.
Fat and Rude is killing himself laughing. Shithouse has advice from McCarthy QC that Shithouse's nomination is valid and TOM has advice from Sandy Street SC that it isn't. Fat and Rude reckons it's the only time in his life Sandy has got it right.
SWMBD and Fat and Rude's Mother are worried that he will stand in the by-election but, as he says, he's already paid the deposit, this time he'll check and get the 50 and it will probably be the only election in history where he's managed to get the deposit back twice. Meanwhile, he's still working on the Defence Policy.
Well, unless you're voting on our balcony, I won't see you on election day but as SWMBD said to Fat and Rude this afternoon - better iron the pleats on your kilt.
Doesn't really matter all that much - by-election probably won't be before February anyway. The writs won't return until after the Court of Disputed Returns makes its decision so the Runt can stay as PM almost indefinitely in a caretaker capacity. 14 by-elections - just imagine that. More kitty-litter than you can poke a stick at.
Day 16
Still no cat policy. The Howard launch was very disappointing in that respect. Lot of cats in Wentworth, particularly round Woolloomooloo and the Cross – we keep the wildlife down. That is, of course, when we’re not being strangled by feral politicians.
Have you seen TOM’s Dog Blog – disgusting. Dogs just follow the leader. Maybe that’s why TOM likes them. Although you’d have to be a little worried if you were the leader and you had TOM following you. Sniffing, Dr Reynolds would call it.
Anyway, there’s a lot of batty money (we have a lot of bats here – hilarious really – they roost in the Botanic Gardens then at dusk fly to Rushcutters Bay to feed – great to watch -as they fly near Fleetbase they get totally confused by the navy’s radar – bats everywhere). Where was I? Oh yes, lots of batty money being spent by all sorts of no-hopers round here. Dixie Coultan has actually opened a campaign office in Macleay Street. Given that, as a former Deputy Lord Mayor, she got fewer votes in the last Council election than Fat and Rude did in the last State Election, you’d have to ask “Why bother?”
TOM’s in real trouble and The Mistress is getting a comprehensive slagging. Here too.
At least Fat and Rude only gets called a serial candidate and eccentric. Neophyte must really hurt. Ah well, as they say hell hath no fury… She must be bloody rich though. Maybe, if she has a cat policy, I could smooge her and get free insulin for the rest of my life. Well, I suppose I already do but Fat and Rude pays for it. I’ll bet she’s got designer Speedos. Wonder what she does with the budgie? I know what I’d do with it.
Bugger, Fat and Rude’s back: time to look coy.
Clare de Lune ?
CLAUDE’S ELECTION DIARY DAY 5
Well, Fat and Rude is livid and I’m not very happy either because now he’s sacked me as his campaign diarist. It’s always kick the cat isn’t it? Maybe goes with being Malcolm. The Divisional Returning Officer won’t accept his nomination apparently because a large number of people who nominated him don’t know where they live. And now he blames me.
The Defence Policy has gone into the same drawer his Dad used to keep it in.
It’s a cat’s life … well that could be an interesting concept if Turnbull wins.
But, anyway, I’m off. Fat and Rude says it is all-out blitzkrieg now. He’s talking about handing out for other people and attending all the public meetings: eeek. I wouldn’t want to be the Electoral Commissioner – but he probably doesn’t want to be either.
Day 5 was a bit of a fizz.
Claude
Well, I've read that - bloody cat. At least I haven't strangled the bloody animal.
Wonder if we could get it over to Point Piper...
Election Diary Day 4
Well, I'm a cat after all. I was entitled to sleep in all day yesterday. [Sorry Margo - missed the deadline].
But is Fat and Rude hopping (or is that hoping?). Nominations close at noon tomorrow and he's not sure how many he's got but since he got 768 votes in the last election he must be able to get 50 people and he has been able to scrape up the $500 for the deposit.
But when he came home, he was telling SWMBD that the kitty-litter (not his precise term) is just about to hit the fan.
Lucy Turnbull, our late Lord Mayor (and wife of His Grace, the recently Roman Catholicised Local Member, TOM) has written to all the identifiable females in the electorate (how much did that cost?) praising her husband - gushing as it were. Well, fair enough I suppose as a transgender cat not much interested in which gender gets any particular information but ... apologising for writing a two page letter seems even more over the top than writing a two page letter.
Anyway, it's got Fat and Rude more excited than I've seen him since the last time I nearly carked it - boorish - he keeps complaining about vet bills. Lucy's letter isn't authorised and it doesn't contain the name or address of the printer in accordance with the Electoral Act.
Big fan, big kitty litter.
Stay posted humanes.
Speaking of kissing babies...
Timing, it's all in the timing
What time, David Eastwood? I should be able to be there.
At last
...ahhh, Claude Depussy, I presume? Kitten on the keys?
Scat Cat
Brilliant Fi, er Fiona! Take a bow, my dear. Wasn't Kitten On The Keys one of the tunes in The Great Gatsby? Anyhow, all this talk of pussies reminds me of this poem:
Fiona: Well, Kathy , Kitten on the Keys was a rag from 1921, so it is probably quite appropriate for The Great Gatsby (never saw it, only read it).
Pfitts Off!
Hey Fiona!
Have I Pfitts you off old mate? Notice that you deleted your comment to me about the Kitten on The Keys! Incidentally . just checked, and yes Kitten On The Keys is on The Great Gatsby Soundtrack (which I have)
Fiona: Something strange is happening in the ether tonight, Kathy. But, after all, it is Hallowe'en. My comment is reinstated, and it's a great piece, isn't it?
Still Snirtling
Yes Fiona, it is a great piece!
Actually, I'm still snirtling over Claude Depussy!!
Fiona: Oh, Kathy, that is such an old old joke, but if this is the first time you have encountered it, I can only consider myself privileged to have had the honour....
Shucks Fiona.
Shucks Fiona, (blushes) guess it was the era I grew up in.
Nobody in my age group was really into Debussy. Or Sibelius, Rachmanninoff, Chopin, Tchaichovsky. Such beautiful music though! Sigh. Only last week I put on the 1812 Overture.. Sublime. Hadn't heard it for years..
Music is like sex, it relaxes me! (Am I allowed to say that?)
Fiona: Why not? One friend of mine said that her best ^&**() ever were to Wagner's Tannhauser. Make of that what you will. Meanwhile, I am going to bed (alone, and probably without benefit of music).
Shocking
Meanwhile, Kathy, we are undoubtedly disrupting Claude's hard-earned 16 hours of sloth. So unkind and unthinking of both of us.
Perhaps we should think about some music to soothe his ruffled fur...
You first - I am (given AEST) definitely on my way to sleep.
Sweet Dreams Fi!
How about Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata? That's nice and soothing.
Sweet dreams Fiona! It's been good fun chatting with you tonight.
Fiona: Likewise, Kathy - though the Moonlight ain't an easy play if you do it properly.
Moonlight at Muningdi
Ah the Moonlight. No, definitely not an easy play. Could you dear Fiona tell my good Scot that, as he's been harping on about me learning to play if for him for nigh on thirty years.
My ambition is to one day see our MBD striding fully kilted up down our lane, piping all the way. At dawn and again at sunset. And I can sit on the old verandah and enjoy. He needs to do a bit of penance anyway as far as I am concerned.
And our electorate, whichever one it is currently, could do with a bit of a stir. We don't even get the junk mail out our way, so how can a girl know who is who and for whom, (yes whom) to vote. Guess I'll find out before I lift my pencil to make my mark on history. I understand at least that we run from Mudgee to Mungindi to somewhere west of the blackened stump so I suppose no one can be everywhere and there's no babies out here to kiss, in fact hardly anyone at all these days. So why would anyone bother to call?
Yes a piping Scot would certainly liven the bush birds up at least. Might even get that blasted spiny out from under the floor that keeps us awake scrabbling around all night. He's fitted out with a perfect back scratcher, only problem is its the wrong way up I suppose.
Hobson's
Jenny: "We don't even get the junk mail out our way, so how can a girl know who is who and for whom, (yes whom) to vote."
Assuming that the Australian Electoral Commission website is to be trusted - and given Malcolm Duncan's experience with the AEC yesterday, that assumption may not be safe - you are in Parkes. The retiring member is John Cobb (Nat). According to the FederalElection site, the following people have announced their candidature (though whether or not they've actually been nominated is a different kettle of fish:
I can't say I envy your choice.
Hope all is going well with you, Ian, and the rest of your family.
Wentworth a riot
Thank you Dr Reynolds for posting the site giving the allocation of positions on the ballot paper. While I reserve my rights to challenge the nominations (hope to christ I don't get Kiefel - the only other one who wouldn't have to disqualify him or herself would be Hayne given that I've appeared before, briefed or kissed the rest), the draw is hilarious.
How do you put out a "How to Vote"? Were this not assize time and were it not a breach of the Electoral Act I'd say vote for me as a "write-in" candidate.
But you wouldn't catch me breaching the law, would you?
The mischief continues.
What's new pussycat?
Hi Jenny!
A spiny ant eater with a back scratcher the wrong way up! Too funny Jen. Though I suppose not so funny for you and Ian, trying to get some sleep eh?
How are things in your neck of the woods? Did you get much rain the other day?
So Jen, you are an accomplished pianist, no?
How about playing "Clare De Lune" for me.
And don't tell me only De Pussy can play it okay?
Heh heh heh....
Unaccomplished Kath
Sorry Kath: Unaccomplished pianist. But I have a lovely grand if you will settle for the old hymns. I'm not too bad on them.
Rain? 2 inches on the farm and three at Goulburn. Just beautiful. Pity about the crops though. All too late for ours, and it will have destroyed what little others were trying to scrape up, in the north west anyway. Might do some good further south.
I think the season is turning, ever so slowly. But turning nonetheless. We need a big dump to fill all the stock dams, as they are nearly dry and lethal for the smaller cattle and the sheep.. We even had to pull out a young roo.
Thanks Fiona. Yes it seems it is Parkes we are in taking in a huge slice of the north and central west. No, not much of a choice and we'll never get to see any of them anyway. Think I will take a punt and vote Green 1, CDP 2, and toss a coin on the rest for places..
Family? Slowly putting the pieces back. She left a huge gap. Thanks for your concern.
Tinkling The Ivories Jen.
Actually, Jen, do like some of the old hymns mate.
Being a mick though, don't know if we would know the same hymns. What about 'Faith Of Our Fathers', 'Soul Of My Saviour', and even though it is somewhat maudlin 'Nearer My God To Thee'. Just find that hymn really soul stirring.
Sad about the rain, Jen. Can only hope and pray, that better things are to come for you, Ian, and the other farmers.
Nearer my God to Thee
Kath: It is Ian's favourite or one of them. Don't know the other two but might if I heard them. Some the most beautiful hymns I have ever heard are the old Danish Lutheran ones, like the Presbyterian but absolutely soul stirring to quote you.
Ian and I are OK. I said I would never be dependent on the land after the second clearing sale in 96 and I am not. Those that are are the ones that are suffering. We can just shut the farm down and sit it out as we have more or less done over the past 6 years.
But we did get some drought aid. Some good folk in Sydney sent boxes of goodies to our area in 2003 and someone left one for us when we were out. Must have thought the place looked impoverished I guess. We gave its contents away to a couple of good neighbours who were struggling, but they did not want one item, a whole ten pack of cepacol lozenges. I know Ian would have preferred a different ten pack.
So we put them in the medicine cupboard, and given the dust over the years since have worked our way through the lot. I felt they were the most useful item in the whole box.
So drought aid comes in many forms.
The rain was beautiful so we will not knock it. Goulburn is beautifully green again and the north is predicted to get above average rain this summer with a late developing weak La Nina. So here's hoping.
Fiona, thanks. I will have to think about him seriously and he would be preferable to either of the two main parties.
Better go, School reunion at the old place this weekend, 50th since The "Leaving" of PLC.
Hee, hee, hee. Late one night at the keyboard...
Hee, hee, hee. Late at night and Fat and Rude doesn't realise I can use the keyboard on the computer. He took me to the "Meet the Candidates" for Wentworth tonight at a Greenie fest. I just travel in a diabetic coma really and TOM wasn't there despite saying he would be and having it reported in the local paper. Got the first look at the Newhouse mistress. She's spending big. Got a website, got a pearl necklace (compulsory I suppose if you're a female standing in Wentworth - might even get the Lady Mary Fairfax vote) she's even got a business card printed on both sides. Fat and Rude says if the printer who owes him $11,000 would pay him he could too but, given that his electors are too cretinous to nominate him validly, it would probably be a waste of money.
Well, despite Fat and Rude suggesting that the only way to reduce carbon emissions is to cease coal exports (which got a bit of a clap from the audience) and tasking anyone to adopt that as policy and then explain how we pay for it (which got a mealy-mouthed reply from some academic twat at Kenzo Tech who wants to do "something" by 2050) he kissed a local reporter and then went off to have a beer. If you ask me, that just creates more Greenhouse gas but who am I to comment - pardon - just farted.
Bugger, I think he's just noticed I'm sitting on the keyboard.
I'm bloody glad my ex isn't running against me and I'm even gladder I didn't run into TOM. When you get to 16 as a diabetic cat, you appreciate all the time you have left.
Well, theregoes the keyb
TRANSMISSION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED BY THE PROPRIETOR. BLOODY CAT.
Margo: Webdiarists, Claude is the alter ego of Malcolm B Duncan.
SP
Shush, Fat and Rude has gone to the human kitty-litter so I haven't got much time.
The news on the ground from secret sources is current internal polling has the little Jewish person [see Media Watch tonight and the stoush between him and the Mistress and the Australian's coverage - Ed] at 57% two party preferred to TOM.
Meanwhile, Fat and Rude always said he'd get the deposit back in this election and he will - they won't let him stand.
I always like it when another TOM gets wiped out. Imagine being the only conservative candidate ever to lose Wentworth. Perhaps instead of parachuting him into Ruddock's seat, they could parachute him into Iran.
Still, Fat and Rude hasn't changed his mind - it's the Coalition - mind you, he lost in spades on the Cup. What about a cat policy? I guess it won't be announced in Wentworth, or, if it is, I won't like it. Thank goodness we don't have a fence.
Gee he takes a long time in the kitty-litter.
Parkes
Jenny, when I pointed you in the direction of your electorate, I didn't realise that Bruce Haigh is standing as an independent. In my opinion, well worth considering as 1, followed by Greens etc.
Now, on another thread you said that you'd put the Libs last - well, they ain't running a candidate. Mind you, if they were, it would have to be a toss up between them and the Citizens Electoral Council's candidate. I know which way I'd go. Thus, given that there is no Liberal candidate, the choice for last on your list is obvious - as, for that matter, is the decision regarding the penultimate.
Bruce Haigh
Fiona, you are quite right about Bruce Haigh. I put him number 1 last time in Gwydir as I recall and will probably do so again this time around in Parkes. Parkes is a bit like Eden-Monaro as an election barometer, or should I say thermometer?
When the average temperature is up by around 5 degrees C and every last gum tree is firewood, get set for the Nationals to lose it. By then the whole 20 million mainland population will have migrated to Tasmania anyway.
I think Malcolm is quite right on Independents. The party system is moribund, and thanks to public funding of campaigns, increasingly the preserve of undemocratic party cliques.
Margo: First we had grants schemes, which were rorted in favour of marginals. Now Howard deoesn't even bother with a pretend merits scheme - he just throws money at anything that takes his fancy in the marginals. Pretty soon, voters in safe seats will realise they're mugs, just like voters in National's seats did when Pauline Hanson was a phenomenon. Only when all seats are marginal will fairness come back into the grants system.
Blowin' in The Wind
You got a second wind, Fiona?
Wish I had your stamina, girl!
Fiona: I'm just a gal who cain't say no...
Soothing the Savage Beast.
Okay Fiona, what's your choice of music to soothe the savage beast?
Ps Nothing soothing about bagpipes, Malcolm!
Music for your ears
Ether either
On second thoughts, Kathy, it isn't the ether. Claude has somehow managed to get his paws on the keyboard again, which given that he is approximately 900km away from me is a truly frightening thought. Or, perhaps, cats just do it with their minds. (Mind you, do they have minds?)
CLAUDE'S ELECTION DIARY DAY 2
Humans. How dare Fat and Rude post my mewsings under his name. So, sorry about the repetition and all that, but this is the real Claude really reporting life from the balcony.
*
Finally back in the flat and the kitty-litter’s been cleaned out. I love the way SWMBD does the kitty-litter: as soon as she cleans it out I make sure it needs to be cleaned again – so much more agreeable than those stupid people running around after small dogs (or breakfast as I like to think of them) with plastic bags and scoopers.
As a diabetic, (have you noticed how most minorities start off almost every sentence with "As a [insert minority]"? – we get a lot of poofters. dykes, old people and South Africans in Wentworth – "As a South Effrican myself" – hilarious) I tend to sleep a lot, or pretend to sleep a lot – bit like – as a 16 year old cat, well, as a diabetic and a 16 year old cat I pretend to sleep a lot – you pull more birds that way but it doesn’t help much in the Darwinian world if they gave you The Operation before The Option.
Must admit though, I prefer fur to feathers and the odd lizard doesn’t hurt too much as long as you don’t swallow the claws.
Now, as I was saying, this is day two and I’ve been listening a bit more than Fat and Rude and SWMBD have noticed. They had the place cleaned the day before yesterday but I’ve managed to put fur everywhere again in less than 24 hours (daylight saving helped).
Fat and Rude is working on the Defence policy. I’m working on his trousers. Now, you may not know it but I’m white: white Australia – right policy I reckon. And I shed. Well, even I can’t swallow all that fur. And how fur sticks to tapestry upholstery. Fat and Rude likes dark colours – grey, blue – that sort of thing – and one day he was in Court without realizing he had been sitting on the lounge after I’d been there. The Solicitor described him as looking like a silver-backed Gorilla.
Damn, more Cockatoos. Between them and cockroaches – at least I haven’t run into Malcolm Turnbull yet – just Malory.
Door closed – no Cockatoos. But if there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a closed door. I was trying to get into the linen cupboard today and SWMBD shooed me away. Just as a curious cat (and, yes, I’ve heard them read T.S. Eliot) I reckon everything should come out of the closet.
I hear that that’s why Mr Newhouse is touting so proudly that he’s been visiting Oxford Street campaigning lately. Don’t know much about the ex-girlfriend though.
And there’s so much talk about climate change. Well, my climate hasn’t changed much, well, not unless you count moving from Kingsgrove. As far as I can see (usually when SWMBD and Fat and Rude aren’t looking) we just have climate – (oh and Cockatoos and cockroaches of course) – bloody climate changes all the time – pardon – just farted.
They don’t have a greenhouse so I don’t know what all this greenhouse gas nonsense is about: if you don’t have a greenhouse … well, obvious really – even humanes should understand that. Global warming – you must be joking: I’m a Persian/Siamese cross. Global breeding more like.
As for tomorrow, Fat and Rude is off to get his eyes checked so keep a look-out in Bondi Junction.
Oh, and did I tell you I’m grooming rather well?
Hey Claude
Will you be reporting on Dixie Coulton's campaign for the Climate Change Coalition? I noticed today that posters for Dixie went up in Kings Cross-2 very lonely looking posters side by side on the front of a deserted shop next to the needle injecting premises. Not a single one anywhere else.
She's a nice lady but I fear her chances to get votes in the double digits are rather doomed. In fact all those in the party are exceptionally nice people. Who couldn't like the party leader, Patrice Newell, Phil Adams' lovely wife? But they seem like babes in the woods.
CLAUDE’S ELECTION DIARY DAY 2
Finally back in the flat and the kitty-litter’s been cleaned out. I love the way SWMBD does the kitty-litter: as soon as she cleans it out I make sure it needs to be cleaned again – so much more agreeable than those stupid people running around after small dogs (or breakfast as I like to think of them) with plastic bags and scoopers.
As a diabetic, (have you noticed how most minorities start off almost every sentence with "As a [insert minority]"? – we get a lot of poofters. dykes, old people and South Africans in Wentworth – "As a South Effrican myself" – hilarious) I tend to sleep a lot, or pretend to sleep a lot – bit like – as a 16 year old cat, well, as a diabetic and a 16 year old cat I pretend to sleep a lot – you pull more birds that way but it doesn’t help much in the Darwinian world if they gave you The Operation before The Option.
Must admit though, I prefer fur to feathers and the odd lizard doesn’t hurt too much as long as you don’t swallow the claws.
Now, as I was saying, this is day two and I’ve been listening a bit more than Fat and Rude and SWMBD have noticed. They had the place cleaned the day before yesterday but I’ve managed to put fur everywhere again in less than 24 hours (daylight saving helped).
Fat and Rude is working on the Defence policy. I’m working on his trousers. Now, you may not know it but I’m white: white Australia – right policy I reckon. And I shed. Well, even I can’t swallow all that fur. And how fur sticks to tapestry upholstery. Fat and Rude likes dark colours – grey, blue – that sort of thing – and one day he was in Court without realizing he had been sitting on the lounge after I’d been there. The Solicitor described him as looking like a silver-backed Gorilla.
Damn, more Cockatoos. Between them and cockroaches – at least I haven’t run into Malcolm Turnbull yet – just Malory.
Door closed – no Cockatoos. But if there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a closed door. I was trying to get into the linen cupboard today and SWMBD shooed me away. Just as a curious cat (and, yes, I’ve heard them read T.S. Eliot) I reckon everything should come out of the closet.
I hear that that’s why Mr Newhouse is touting so proudly that he’s been visiting Oxford Street campaigning lately. Don’t know much about the ex-girlfriend though.
And there’s so much talk about climate change. Well, my climate hasn’t changed much, well, not unless you count moving from Kingsgrove. As far as I can see (usually when SWMBD and Fat and Rude aren’t looking) we just have climate – (oh and Cockatoos and cockroaches of course) – bloody climate changes all the time – pardon – just farted.
They don’t have a greenhouse so I don’t know what all this greenhouse gas nonsense is about: if you don’t have a greenhouse … well, obvious really – even humanes should understand that. Global warming – you must be joking: I’m a Persian/Siamese cross. Global breeding more like.
As for tomorrow, Fat and Rude is off to get his eyes checked so keep a look-out in Bondi Junction.
Oh, and did I tell you I’m grooming rather well?
Clarity
Let's get this quite clear from the outset: there are TWO, count them, TWO, Malcolms running for Wentworth. It doesn't help that they both have the same middle initial but there is a world of difference between Malcolm Bruce Duncan (we fought with the Bruce at Bannockburn) and Malcolm Bligh Turnbull (who fought with himself at the Republic Convention).
Duncan is the real Malcolm, Turnbull is The Other Malcolm ("TOM" - as in cat).
You're scared?