Webdiary - Founded and Inspired by Margo Kingston |
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Claude’s Election Diary 2010
bye Claude
Day something or other.
Okkerupation: Deceased
Length of time in current employment: Yes
Age: Probberly
Religion: Like an Egyptian
Nationality: Persian/Siamese Cross
Place of Birth: Kings Cross
Sex: None of your business
Highest Educational Qualification: Pidgeon (yum)
Referees: Don’t like sport
Hobbies: Deceased
I like it here because you can sleep for soooooooooooo long and when you wake up the thing you just ate before you went to sleep is alive again so you can eat it all over – it’s a bit like a permanent Chinese meal.
They said I was stuffed but they still haven’t taken the corpse out of the freezer to do the autopsy – something about cutbacks Fat and Rude was told. Stuffed if I know but they say you can’t get the wood you know. Sometimes I just feel like Workchoices: dead, buried but not yet cremated.
It’s interesting watching from up here to see what you humanEs are doing to yourselves – a bit like being in a Bettte Midler song with the wind beneath your wings (original recipie).
At least there’s no letterboxing to do here – everyone has email - but just can’t get away from microsoft.
You humanEs probably haven’t caught up with the latest gates marketing tool: word 4004 bc lite, home and deceased version. It’s the one with the shovel icon.
I could do with a good shag but I only had a pidgeon a couple of minutes ago so I’m full. Cloud service is pretty good here but there just isn’t enough space for shedding fur.
I’ve got all the time in the world (or out of it) but I gather you humanEs are a bit busy between now and the end of August. Alphonse spoke to me the other day and asked if I knew what was going on behind the scenes. Well I do and I can tell you that Joe has a very small screen-saver. Eddie, on the other hand, has his finger in so many pies that he is the pure foods act’s worst nightmare while the Ohio Lassoo hasn’t hooked anyone except Sussex Street.
Mind you, it’s all the go in the Cross . Fat and Rude has decided to have a go for Wentworth again. Let’s hope he people who nominate him know where they live this time.
The big debate is on tonight between the Redhead ambulance-chasing sheila and Big Ears. They haven’t asked Fat and Rude so I’m watching the Bake-off. Apparently they’re doing pidgeon pie tonight – yum.
Watch this spacwe. Fat and Rude is announcing his policy to nationalise the Col Industry next week. That should get a few pidgeons out of the pie.
Puuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrr. Smooge. Fur from the other side.
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Political S...Attire
Personally, I always find ditchwater interesting. There is a chance of taddies. A decent search must be made, up and down the ditch, but one can cope with that. It is amazing what obstacles, difficulties, dangers one confronts and totally defeats. Dishwater, though, that is dull! Dismal murk! That's why washing up has been automated.
But Claude, as a political puss (you, not me), with a detached and all-encompassing overview of these things, I am surprised that you didn't warn us, didn't disclose the reality that has kept us on edge, on the edge of undressing or underdressing, for the past decade. But no, not a meow out of you.
It was left to the principal party in the case, Al Downer, to confess, to tell us in the Advertiser today (no, not the Bairnsdale one, the so-called "Advertiser" of the opposite hinterland, old Al's home town), to tell us, and I quote him, "... and no, I didn't ever wear fishnet stockings!"
Fiona: Wot, Michael, never ever?
To sleep, perchance
Claude, if I've been counting on my paws correctly there are 27 sleeps to go before this dull as ditchwater campaign slops to its end. Wish I were where you are at the moment. Or would there be any chance of a green needle?
Tell Fat and Rude to check people's photo IDs to make sure about their addresses. Alternatively, he could borrow Alphonse's sneakoscope.
Not on the same frequency
Scott, did you come back just to keep reminding us of our perceived failures in your eyes? I'm not interested in anything but the here and now right now.
Claude, I followed Fat and Rude's path, though the Masterchef final was more tightly managed than this election campaign. Ten did show the Gillard-Abbott "stoush" afterwards, and though I tried to stay awake was out to it well before the end. It was nothing more than message regurgitation, and with three-minute speaking times the pair were able to show their faces for as long as possible while maintaining as little semantic content as could be achievable.
This is going to be a loooong four weeks.
Dead cat bounce
Never understood the term myself; it's not as if they do is it? Maybe if rigor mortis had set in and you threw them really hard onto concrete something like a bounce might occur but I doubt it.
Anyhow, it seemed appropriate here.
It's comforting to know there's plenty of pidgeon pie where you rest, Claude, although death doesn't appear to have done much for your faculties; for a while there I thought your missive from the grave was the work of a would be impostor, Alphonse or somebody. Then I realised I might be missing something.
"Fat and Rude" huh? Surprisingly astute of you for a Persian, no offence but they're not known for their savvy are they? Must be the Siamese in you.
Not having seen your staffer for a long hot spell I can't comment on his relative corpulence but the other bit, well, what do you know about rudeness? Cats, after all, are pathologically rude, not at all like dogs for instance. As for us humanEs, well there's gentlemen and others.
On the subject of your aforementioned staffer, I'm a bit worried; he doesn't seem to be the same. Running for Wentworth again? Oh well, it's his money I suppose.
Affable enough chap when I met him; he seemed to enjoy our company too, even to the extent that he spent enough time in it to get him in the shit with SWMBO and he carted fish'n'chips home for dinner.
Rest in peace.
Richard, read Lyall Watson's Supernature.
I know from personal experience that telepathy exists. In my twenties I had startling experiences of transmitting my thoughts a few times, most strongly with a lover that I hurt by having a joke with myself. She repeated my thoughts word for word on two occasions and they weren't the only experiences. I've only been receptive once and the call came to me as if the person who wanted to talk me was standing right behind me, strong enough to turn around and be surprised to find no one there. The person was quite freaked out when I told her. It was really mundane too.
Don't know about Facebook though, personally I find it banal. I think it's overrated as well; I've got an account opened at someone's insistence and never use it. Lots of would be "friends" at the beginning to whom I never responded.
Webdiary's decline? I think it's natural; the schism might have hastened the end but that's all. If I ran out of things to say maybe so did a lot of others.
Now it's more of a chat room.