KerrieJean.com

Woke up feeling ever so strange…..my imagination in overdrive……

A knot in my tummy (trust me, not the result of emergency liposuction), shaking hands reaching, reaching out for a big prawn cutlet in Lee’s Diner, lower Pine Avenue, the echo of Gwennie’s voice: ‘It’s good you don’t have a boyfriend – always bad for him, bad for you, bad for all of us….’

AND then staring in wonder at surely the Pacific Rim’s most intriguing and magnificent building – the Leeton Water Filtration Plant.

Isn’t it great? Don’t you wish you had one in your town?

['How Greyish Brown Was My Water Filtration Plant.' Cr: Bidgee: flickr]

I am homesick. I am in a very bad way.

Don’t get me wrong.

This is not the clawing, nausea-inducing, rose-tinted quasi-malady of an Anne of Green Gables.

This is a longing for the hard-wired Conditional Love experienced by KJ of Acacia Avenue, Leeton…..

Thank God Hec and Gwennie thumbed their noses at psychobabblelic notions of  UNCONDITIONAL Love….

With five lovely girls to get to their 21sts with commemorative wrist watches, not duffed, literate, vaguely presentable and with fixed addresses their philosophy of Conditional Love  – and its attendant demands - was not only right but (up to a point) saved me from a life of inappropriate sexual adventures and downright sloth.

As a teenager I was surrounded by Conditional Love……..awash even. There was:

*The Conditional Love Machine Gwennie As Seamstress/Artist:

‘KJ, I’m not going to start on your school formal hot pants – with overlapping split front skirt – just yet. Let’s see if you can eat a little less. I’d like to think that if I put that much work into a controversial (eat your heart our nunnies!) but chic ensemble, you’ll be able to pull it off……..’

*The Conditional Love Machine Hec As One Who Too Has Been Around The Block:

‘If you go out with Wazza KJ, a man won’t be able to hold his head high at Le Club D’ Leeton Hotel. Show some respect….’

*The Conditional Love Machine Gwennie As Educationalist:

‘The HSC starts next week KJ. Being lazy and fun around the house is one thing but that a scholar does NOT make. Go on break my heart:  Fail!’

*The Conditional Love Machine Hec at His Fatherly Best:

‘What’s a man supposed to think KJ? If ya lucky, you’ll end up sellin’ fairy floss at Luna Park. Keep it up and I swear to God you will!’

So, here’s to my mentors, Hec and Gwennie, Conditional Love Machines Extraordinaire…..

And I appeal to the current crop of Australian parents to give Conditional Love a go…….

KJ - for one - is sick and tired of visiting home where the prevailing philosophy of  Unconditional Love has created conditions more akin to a  B&S Ball zone without bouncers.

*Ring, ring……

‘Gwennie, I’m homesick. I’m thinking of coming home….’

‘Good KJ but bring something decent to wear….I don’t want you walking up Pine Avenue looking like a………’

*********************

Gee…..your thoughts please?

……On homesickness, on Conditional Love, on the three regional kingmakers certainly making Conditional Love an art form at present…….

Just quietly, I think Mr Oakeshott is a little suss….

I’ve seen blokes like that at fundraising barbecues. All smiles, very reasonable, real pillars of the community. But, when it comes to being on organising committees, they can be real trouble, real  big trouble……..

So, please report in with your news – it’s always good when the homesick are forced to avert their gazes from their own fluffy belly buttons.

*Lord Ginge The Ginger Man*

As you may be aware, Lord Ginge has arrived in Leeton with Mr Peter O’Toole.

Their Democracy Trailer is parked in Pine Avenue.

[cr:garethjmsaunders:flickr]

In these most difficult of times for our nation follow the colossal adventures of Lord Ginge all this week in our comments section.

Marvellous, Simply Bloody Marvellous….!

For folks new to The Ginger Man, he’s been operating in kerriejean.com for yonks. He comes to us via Trinity College, Dublin and Bletchley Park, the top secret British facility housing code breakers during the Second World War.

How to approach him?  Easy.  He’s fun, he’s whimsical.  I love Lord Ginge and you will too……

Something In The Hair: Out Now!

As you can see by looking to the upper right hand side of kerrie jean.com, our comedy series ‘Something In The Hair’ is  ready for listening to.  Talk about nervy, talk about nervy…… 

*There’s also a new and trailblazing feature which’ll be activated next Monday:

The Prawn Cutlet Award

[cr: Marco Veringo: flickr]

This is a significant advance in the history of kerriejean.com. Every week, I’ll award a Prawn Cutlet for the niftiest,  most gut-wrenching - or exceedingly provocative comment.

Make no mistake though, if you want the Cutlet you’ll have to work for it – conditional, very conditional.

In the meantime, calm down, tell your friends and family how much you…..tolerate them and take the opportunity to be in the running for the Inaugural Prawn Cutlet Award by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo

Dearie me, plug those kerfuffle valves, mercy mercy, mercy…….Serenity Now!

For before us - and particularly for *Gwennie – these will be the most difficult of days…..

Personally, I haven’t been as fraught since I was thrown out of the Roxy Theatre in 1974 with my date – a Yanco Agricultural High School Rugby League superstar.  

The crime?

Multiskilling. Watching ‘The Godfather’ and having a quick grope while being under the official insidious Nanny State ‘The Godfather’ viewing age of 18.

Pathetic, unfair, criminal. [As if Gwennie would have wanted to be provide 'grope parental guidance' (GPG), as if!]

Anyway, now is now…… and Red N’ Ready and Mr Ab-Do-Man have got three horses’ heads in their beds:  those of Messrs Katter, Windsor and Oakeshott. 

And make no mistake, everybody in rural Australia wishes that Bob (Seat of Camelot 1), Tony (Seat of Camelot 2) or Rod (Seat of Camelot 3) was their rep.

[Camelot: The hottest seat in town. Cr: Ken McCown: flickr]

So much so that last night I dreamt that Bob The Kat - the man with the glorious Future Shock of  hair that The Mousse Man, Mr Tim Mathieson, will surely be working on by 2pm today – was the Independent for Riverina.

In my dream, I was head of the ’The Ministry Of Fear’  – dispatched by Red N’ Ready and Mr Ab-Do-Man to find out what Bob The Kat’s demands were for the seat of Camelot 1.

This is what he told me:

‘KJ, of  all the places in Camelot 1, I love the Leeton the mostest…..

Chockablock with good, fine people…….

Tell Red N’ Ready and Mr Ab-Do-Man that this is what they demand, what they deserve……..

NOT to be given fast broadband but for everyone to BECOME Very, Very, Very Fast Broadband……

Babies delivered at Leeton Hospital will have access to the latest technology as their birthright……… 

A keyboard surgically attached to their tummies which will receive signals from a base station at Grong Grong….

Leeton will be the first rural community on the Pacific Rim where everyone’s middle name will be their Broadband signal…..

For example:  Cory Grong Grong 34567 Dodds, Sarah Grong Grong 34897 Morgan.

Because everyone in Leeton IS Very, Very, Very Fast Broadband, life will change KJ – for the very, very, VERY betterest….

Mass at St Joseph’s? Two minutes with communion, 45 secs without. Aussie Rules games? One quarter. NO time on. A typical date with a crumbed king prawn cutlet supper?  Forty five seconds with tartare sauce, 29 without.  Intimate conjugal activites? Four seconds – down from nine.

What this all means KJ is that the good folk of Leeton will have much, much, mucherest morest time to do the things that count…….

……Day trips to day spas in Wagga Wagga, bacchanalian pizza nights in Griffith, educative family excursions to ‘The Home Of The Kelpie’ town, Ardlethan…..

Tell ‘em KJ, you tell ‘em……..

AND while you’re at at it, tell ‘em the good townsfolk of Leeton want the life blood of a fairly big bit of Australia, the complete Murray-Darling system, diverted their way.

They wanna put a record rice crop in…….

Not too bloody much to ask……not bloody much at all…..’

*Gwennie (mum). Last sighted doing her own heart stress test – wandering up Pine Avenue yelling:

If Abbott becomes PM, I will live, if THAT ABBOTT becomes PM, I WILL live……to have another perm!!!

Test results? Inconclusive.  (God, God, GOD!)

*******************************

Oh dear, please feel free to talk among yourselves about anything…..

I am in no fit state to check my derma filler levels let alone lead a democratic discussion.

*If anything good can be taken away from all of this it is:

The fact that all of us still have the services of Under The Table Top Man (UTTTM), kerriejean.com’s political and diplomatic correspondent. UTTTM will be under all of the the tables that count all week. 

Thank you UTTTM and Keep Cool.

******************************

Oh yes, there is something else………

Coming Soon!

An historic development for kerriejean.com: the simultaneous release on-line, on the airwaves - and on Corey Grong Grong 34567 Repeater Dodds - of the ground breaking, controversial series:

SOMETHING IN THE HAIR

[Cr: National Library Of Congress: flickr]

SOMETHING IN THE HAIR

*Narrated by stage and screen superstar, Mr Colin Moodie .

SOMETHING IN THE HAIR

 Follows the gripping and pathetic escapades of a 50-year-old journalist…..

She’s broken down, busted, kaput.

SOMETHING IN THE HAIR

And she’s returning to her hometown looking for advice and succour.

SOMETHING IN THE HAIR

I’ll tell you one thing for free: I’d hate to be in her shoes!

SOMETHING IN THE HAIR

On, in and all over kerriejean.com SOON!

*****In the meantime, go on……..gouge a few minutes out of your obscenely frantic life and join the kerriejean.com commentariat…..
Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

August 21st: 12:45pm

As is my poll day ‘Australia Decides To Go To Coles Or Woolies And Then Votes’ tradition I have just emerged from my bath.

After three hours of thinking, thinking, thinking – and staying submerged on one occasion for far too long – such was the pressure of my predictive task – the Puffer Fish says:

The next time Mr Ab-Do-Man goes to sleep:

He will awake as our Prime Minister…….

The Coalition…….By A Whisker!

There, The Puffer Fish has said it……

On the personal front, we are increasingly worried about Gwennie.

She was last seen being escorted from a Leeton Polling booth by Electoral Commission officials.

The allegation?

Trying to cast 15,0000 absentee votes for Queensland marginals.

It was workers at the Murrumi School booth that alerted EC officials.

‘I am a stockman from the seat of Leichhardt droving through the Riverina (and if you DON’T mind) I’d like to exercise my franchise…..’

Make no mistake though, we’ll defend Gwennie in the courts EVEN if it means five daughters lose their botox nest eggs.

‘Your Honour, before you is a hero. At 86, Gwennie Hazel Ross, is Australia’s most rabid Labor Supporter. As such, she knows not what she does on election days. Show NOT Mercy but respect. Have you never known what it is to love beyond duty, beyond reason itself…?

Set Gwennie Ross free so she may vote again – and again and again – in Election 2013.’

DON’T dare tell me this is a Democracy……..

Not when millions of law abiding, line dancing country people are denied a basic right – to exciting, even mildly interesting, elections.

This Saturday will be NO different.

Take for example the seat of Shorthorn……….

Shorthorn constituents - ‘we pay our bloody taxes’ will be, as per usual, shouting ‘BOUT TIME at  tellies when Kerry O’B or Antony G deign mention that sitting member Murray Grey (Nat) has defied Science, God and a local locust plague  to be returned for the 19th time with an increased majority of 98 percent.

[Door knocking in the seat of Shorthorn - cr: Robert Scarth: flickr]

This time though, it was Murray’s personal crusade  – for community fundraising barbeques serving local roadkill, that really resonated.

[KO'B] And what’s that up on the tally board? Something new! Antony?

Indeed Kerry. This is the first time since Federation that the Greens have fielded a candidate in the seat of Shorthorn. Jacinta Buckley is an organic truffle grower. She moved to Shorthorn last week with her Immigration lawyer husband, Jeremy. Jacinta’s picked up 000000000000.4% with a couple of truffles still unaccounted for.

And Labor?

Indeed Kerry. This is the 16th time the sole Labor councillor in the electorate of Shorthorn, sewage plant middle manager, Will Power, has contested Shorthorn.

As usual, he’s run on his ‘ Meet The By-Pass Man’ slogan. Will wants 23 By-Passes built in Shorthorn by the turn of the century and he wants local hospitals to do By-Passes so people feigning heart attacks will stop using the Flying Doctor Service for shopping excursions……

Will always picks up about 0.0000007% and it’s NO different this time……

Indeed Antony. And we’ll leave Shorthorn at that…..

So, come Saturday when you’re connnected to plasma drips and tellies feeling important because Kerry and Antony are close to self-combustion when YOUR seat comes up for scrutiny for the 124th time, spare a thought for the people in Shorthorn -  forlorn, forgotten…….

*Just quietly though, word is that Will Power’s traditional election night DEFEAT party is a ripper!

*******************************************

So, I trust you’re all itching for an exciting week….Gwennie is. She’s predicting a colossal swing to Labor of 0.000000002 percent in her shorthorn seat of Riverina. Good luck Gwennie!

*KJ’s Poll Week Pro-Democracy Week Cover*

Continuous coverage all week from kerriejean.com’s diplomatic & political correspondent, Under The Table Top Man (UTTTM).

[Cr Trevor Coultart: flickr]

UTTTM has been under the table where and when it’s counted – the Treaty of Versailles, Mark Latham’s fortieth, Kevin Rudd’s gall bladder surgery, Ikea’s Spring catalogue launch……..

AND he’ll be under the table for you all this week.

So, follow UTTM’s under the table reports right up to and including Poll Day 2010 (in comments section).

And, of course, your world doesn’t stop while ‘Australia Decides’. On the contrary. So, please report in with news from your patch. It really is important – to me (and my bosses).

Poignant memories of country elections past would not only be welcomed but treasured…… 

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

God help me…….I’ve done something very bad……

Something I swore I’d never do……..

I’ve let myself go!

I’m sitting here trying to ty..pee..p..typeee…….

Sans brassiere and that’s akin to self-harm because I know it’s dangerous in terms of balance – take one wrong step and I’m gone…

And I’m encased in one frayed flannelette pyjama top resplendent with old Tikka Marsala Chicken stains……

And one pair of ELASTICISED waistbanded fawn pants.

You heard right…

I am wearing my first pair of trousers capable of accommodating a wide spectrum of gut permutations: from size six – and I’ll be able to confirm this in the next couple of weeks – up to a very comely size 26. 

So, yet another crisis of self-image, self-belief…….

I’m sick with it.

No wonder – just put my thumb under my elasticised waistband to pinpoint my belly button in an effort to reassure myself I come from somewhere but no go.

When all evidence of an umbilical cord has been lost in folds of end stage Capitalistic Excess, time to move on………..

Time to flee to the Riverina where women and elasticised waistbands have not only a long but very proud history.

[Riverina elasticised waistband stronghold: Coolamon CWA. Cr: Bidgee: flickr]

Make NO mistake, I’m talking of elasticised waistbands well before tracksuits, well before talk of long or short crotches [I've been told mine is short but I dispute this], long before Tony Abbott discovered the twin pleasures of lycra and bicycle seats…….

I speak of - I honour – the pillars of country communities, the millions of  women (of very, very comely sizes) who laboured tirelessly in school canteens, hospital kiosks and on CWA stalls dressed in what was the scientific advance of  the 1950s/60s – elasticised waistbanded polyester pants.

Freed from the constrictions of oxygen depriving static waistbands and gaping  metal-zippered flys, polyester pants desporters now travelled at lightning speed between pie warmers and Redskin dispensers. 

But, as always with great scientific and cultural advances, there were unexpected consequences.

You do the math……

One 80 kilo woman travelling at 50 kilmetres per hour around a Leeton school canteen in 105 degree February heat….

Her inner thighs are rubbing not only against each other but also against the super-efficient conductor that is polyester/crimplene….

As our volunteer – freed by her elasticised waistband – gets up to speeds of 70 kilometres per hour, her personal grid becomes overloaded and static electicity ’sparks’ off her crimplene pants. She feels something NOT felt for years: strange, unsettling pulsations emanating from her lower regions.

That afternoon, our pillar of the community purchases seven more pairs of polyester pants.

And is flushed with excitement come December to learn that she’s been named Leeton Volunteer Of The Year.

************************************

Hello everybody.

I’m certainly hoping that Miss Gillard turns up to Labor’s Launch in elasticised pants. Like you, I’m very sick of spin – why can’t we all just get comely and complacent – last time I looked it wasn’t illegal!

So, why not tell Australia about YOUR proudest moments in elasticised waistbanded pants?

I’ve  just decided to support fellas who’ve opted for the ‘elasticised’ configuration. I can see a lot of fun coming my way in the (I hope) not too distant future when I suggest elasticised waistband duels!

Also, am enjoying your observations generated by the Election Campaign. I’ll tell you one thing. If  Mr Latham wants to report on my new life in elasticised pants he’s quite welcome to do so……..

*Ed’s note:  Readers of kerriejean.com will know that we are deep within a controversy. Simply put, our constant correspondent, The Lonely Scholar, took it upon herself the other day to lob in with the unedifying news that she ‘didn’t give a toss about Leeton’. AND she’s only been participating because she’s doing blog research.

I make NO apologies for my reaction.  *The controversy has continued over the weekend and you can see the results in our comments section.

In the meantime, looking forward to hearing from you – go on, exercise your democratic right by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.

A leak from ‘within’ destroys dreams, takes away what you cared about most, leads to questions you never thought you’d have to ask, namely:

What the hell makes this grubby family tick!?

I know……..

Because when I was 12, I came very close to saving the backyard Cedar Grub infested Cedar Tree under which the Riverina’s most foul-tempered pet, Bindi-Boo Major, festered in a sea of bile in his Letona Cannery Workshop purpose built holding pen.

And I failed…….

['Grubby behaviour from a family grub.' cr: Tony the Misfit: flickr]

Because a grubby family member with a moral map smaller (and far less complex than the CBD of Grong Grong) LEAKED all over me….

P***** on my parade and like how!

The grubby sequence of events was set in train when the Department of Agriculture declared a full-scale Cedar Grub Emergency in Leeton.

Gwennie, never one to take threats to her family’s health and safety lightly, went stark-raving mad.

She was on the Cedar Grub frontline…..

Hundreds of thousands of big, black and hairy Cedar Grubs from the elegant host in Bindi-Boo Major’s holding pen were squirming over the lawn, straight through the carport, under the back screen door and INTO everything held dear in the fibro palace.

Nothing was immune…..

*Knicker Drawers = Cedar Grub Incubation Chambers..

*Pantry Cupboard = Cedar Grub Smorgasbord….

*Beds  = Cedar Grub ‘Quiet Time’ Areas….

*Small Electrical Appliances = Cedar Grub Adventure Playgrounds….

So fraught was Gwennie she took to household duties wearing a shower cap, terrified that marauding Cedar Grubs would take refuge in the mysterious recesses of her permed curls.

THEN a molten clutch of charred and twisted Cedar Grubs popped up out of the new pop-up toaster.

AND Gwennie cracked - frantically demanding that a local axeman cut down the canker, cut out the cancer that was the centrepiece  - with the hills hoist – of our (to be brutally honest) pretty basic backyard configuration.

To NO avail, I pleaded with Gwennie on behalf of the Cedar Tree.

My main argument?

That if Bindy-Boo Major was without even a hint of shade come the traditional inferno that was December-March his legendary foul temper would explode into murderous rage.

This was Cedar Grub Ground Zero – I had nothing to lose.

I’d throw the Cedar Grub Dice just one more time…..

When Hec entered the fibro palace in good spirits from the Leeton Hotel just past eight pm, I asked him to sit down.

Which he did (just).

I handed over a piece of paper which simply said, ‘The Cedar Tree Stays.’

I said: ‘Sign this.’

He said: ‘I can’t do that, KJ.’

I said: ‘Why not?’

He said:  ’Because my life wouldn’t be worth livin’.’

I said: ‘ WHO got at you between the carport and the kitchen table?’

He said: ‘No one.’

I said: ‘I don’t know what makes this grubby family tick.’

Quickly adjourning to the sleepout shared with two potential grubby leakers, I removed five big, black and hairy Cedar Grubs from my sheets…

And slept the fitful slept of The Betrayed.

The axeman brought the Cedar Tree down in a precision display of strength and bad language.

The Cedar Grubs retreated.

I  know that is was Gwennie who intercepted Hec in the carport on the night of the fifthy Cedar Grub Coup.

I DO NOT know the identity of the grub (or grubs) who leaked to Gwennie details of my Cedar Tree Petition.

I probably never will.

There are four suspects: Mezza-Anne, Elizabeth-Kaye, Julie-Ellen and Francy-Maree.

To this day, I tell ‘em everything – and NOTHIN’!

********************************************

So, lots to discuss…….vermin, Cedar Grubs, loyalty, leakers, trust, federal elections………an embarrassment of riches that a blogger can usually only dream of……

Any heart-warming memories of Riverina Cedar Grub plagues…….?

AND, as you all know, kerriejean.com is a beautiful exemplar of participatory democracy – so if you’ve got something to say, particularly to LEAK, feel free…….

By:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo.