KerrieJean.com

As usual – when something huge is on the national agenda – I spoke to Hec In Heaven 3am, today.

He was circumspect:

‘Look KJ, ya know I HATE soccer but a team is a team – and if the Socceroos are all we’ve got goin’ around at midnight, there’s a couple of points I’d like to make, particularly for people still lucky enough to be LIVING in Australia….’

It was then that Hec passed on his FIVE ‘non negotiables’ for your midnight viewing. Got a pen and paper?

(1) NO alcoholic beverages to be taken after 6pm, NONE. ‘Because IT’S a depressant and when the Socceroos go down 5-nil you don’t wanna be running around the neighbourhood at 2am kickin’ at nothin’ in particular, bawlin’ like a baby.’

(2) NO matter what happens, don’t put s**** on Mr Verbeek. ‘He may be tiltin’ at windmills but he’s just doin’ his job. Give him a go. Remember, he’s NOT responsible for the running sore that is Kewell’s groin.’

(3) KEEP your strength up. ‘The word Up Here is that Ghana’s national dish is ground peanut stew. As a gesture of true mateship, I’d like to see a big pot of ground peanut stew bubblin’ away on every Australian stove tonight.’

(4) BUNG ON ‘Breaker Morant’ for the pre-match entertainment. ‘Just to remind yourself about a bloke who really gave it a red hot go in South Africa.’

(5) DON’T put s*** on the Socceroos. ‘When they lose, fall down on the shagpile and FEEL their pain. Writhe. Cuss. Not against the Socceroos, but on their behalf. But rest assured you’ll start to feel better by Thursday. I know I did when the Leeton Redlegs lost. Friday at the latest.’

SOCCEROOS: DISGRACEFUL REPORTAGE.

Readers to kerriejean.com know that I abhor soccer.

HOWEVER, I do know a bit about what it’s like to really love a team.

AND with all great love comes great responsibilities. The greatest of them all?

Never, NEVER EVER put s**** on your team.

*I’ll never forget where I was when I first heard Hec sing this - my bouncenette:

Rock-a-bye KJ, in the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks
(And if KJ puts s**** on her own team)
The cradle will fall
And down will come KJ, cradle and all …

And so it was, with mounting red hot anger, I scanned the coverage of the Socceroos 4-0 loss against Germany.  

Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is what happened in Durban.

The powerhouse that is the German soccer team (as expected) trounced Australia. The Socceroos (as expected) played their hearts out but (as expected) lost to a far, far better outfit. Outclassed. Fullstop.

Instead, what did I read?

All about the utter disgrace the Socceroos heaped on you, me and every other man, woman and child who, until 6am today, were proud to call themselves Australian.

…Then there was the gross negligence and malicious intent of coach Pim Verbeek - he dudded us. He had Australia’s most celebrated groin at his disposal  -  and he did nothin’ with it.

Also among the carnage, a dudded Tim Cahill, dudded  hypothermia-stricken ‘fans’ at Darling Harbour and Southbank demanding bus ticket refunds to flee at half-time and an ‘up yours’/we was dudded run on cancellations at Luftansa offices Australia wide. 

But the most disturbing, utterly immature report of them all?

…That the Socceroos had OWNED UP to the ‘Durban Disaster’.

Did I miss something?

I certainly don’t recall a post-match media conference at which Lucas Neill refused to confirm the Socceroos had been thrashed by Germany – only coming clean after repeated questioning by Australian soccer reporters.

Hec had NO time for soccer either.

But I’m glad he’s NOT around to see the vindictive twaddle that today passed for sports reporting. 

So, for the little time the Socceroos have left in South Africa, please remember:

Do NOT put s**** on your team.

[Unless, of course, someone in it is keeping details of the real extent of a crippling groin injury secret - and they have NO intention of playing] 

*Now, read on for some more uplifting material……..

Do tell me this……

When will your hypocrisy, your blatant stupidity, your gross display of faux Nationalism STOP?

…..I swear to God I CANNOT guarantee your personal safety to if I hear you squawk one more time with mock grimace: 

Just like they did at Gallipoli we’re ALL getting up at 4am tomorrow…..

The truth, please?

Soccer, on the scale of sporting excitement, rates somewhere between speed croquet and the walking heats at the Olympics. 

If it wasn’t for the running sore that has been Harry K’s tragic groin, I doubt you’d even know ‘we’ were in Joburg.

Hec, long passed and past president of the (also deceased) Mighty Leeton Demons, was dead right. It disgusted him to see grown men dancing with balls on the tips of their toes.

(Cr: Zoonabar: flickr)

Hec demanded brave men dare grab the ball with their hands and belt it high in the air. Then having big and bloodied farmers, reckless apprentice plumbers and gifted juvenile delinquents prepared to die in pursuit of it, again with nothing at their disposal but bare hands - and the secret weapon of choice for every real Demon….

Hec liked nothing better than to see an opponent prostrate, writhing in semi-conscious agony after being beaten to a mark by a rampaging Demon’s elbow.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is real footy – played to this day by real men - on beautifully manicured claypans – throughout regional Australia.

*A highlight of my recent freebie (sorry, assignment) to the Riverina was a visit to the famous Ganmain Pie Shop where I purchased a limited edition 591-page almanac, ‘History Of The South West District League 1913-81: including Ganmain Football Club’, by Mr Ged Guthrie. 

It has proven the best $25 (half price) I’ve ever spent.

Mr Guthrie’s a great guy. To quote:

‘Ged is not a sporting hero, hasn’t survived a highly publicised tragedy, he is not a former Prime Minister…….he just has a passion for local football.’

I forgive Mr Guthrie for concentrating on Ganmain.

It was, afterall, the home of the most powerful, feared Groin Dynasty ever seen in the South West League – The Carrolls.

For example, records from the Ganmain presentation night September, 16th, 1960 - at the Ganmain Hall - show that Tommy Carroll was best and fairest groin, the best and fairest groin in the finals series and the leading groin goal kicker.

Centreman, Garry Carroll was runner up, best and fairest groin.

Mick Carroll was the most consistent groin and Des Carroll, best all-round groin.

Over the decades, members of the Carroll Groin Dynasty have also distinguished themselves on frontlines in Melbourne  – James Carroll (Carlton), Laurie Carroll (St Kilda), Tom Carroll (Carlton) and Wayne Carroll (South Melbourne).

*Hec’s language at Leeton v Ganmain games was - to say the least – confronting.  But to this day I’m sure he had nothing but respect for the Carroll Groin Dynasty.

Ed’s note: The Carroll Groin Dynasty is also famous for producing the youngest ever (at 38) Bishop of the Wagga Wagga Diocese, Francis Carroll.  

So, enjoy yourselves in front of the telly at 4am, tomorrow.

My prediction?

Australia, 2 – Germany – nil - IF Harry’s groin goes the distance……..

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

**Well, well, well – lots to talk about this week. If you don’t mind, I’d love to here your views on the Socceroos and the most drawn out comp since the Siege of Leningrad. As you know, I’m very broad minded so feel free to tell me you ARE getting up at 4am – and it’s your most exciting prospect for yonks.

On the other hand, if you have NO time for regional Australian Rules Football I’d suggest that kerriejean.com is probably not the place for you……there are many other on-line communities to explore and I’d be ever so grateful if you did just that.

And, as usual, would love to know what’s going on (non World Cup)  in your life. Except if things are so bad I’ll worry and sleep won’t come and I’ll find myself in front of the television at 4am watching grown men dancing with balls on the tips of their toes.

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow 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.

KJ’s OFFICIAL RIVERINA TOUR SCHEDULE ANNOUNCED!

(If you haven’t read the story at the end of this schedule please do so in the interests of comprehension)

Official Schedule:

Friday June 4th – 8:30am. Flight: Air Valium, Sydney-Wagga Wagga. 

Arrive Wagga Wagga 9:30am: Detox. Hire car to Holbrook. Secret (recorded) counselling session with resident Sister of St Joseph.

Friday, June 4th, 6pm. Triumph entry into Leeton. Ceremonial Booze Bus escort. Prawn Cutlet Reception, Leeton RSL.

Sat, June 5th, 11pm. Six-hour Pine Avenue  traditional lapping session in pink 1982 Holden panel van. *Official Cystic Fibrosis Rally car no 181.

Sun, June 6th, 1pm. Historic (for gender reasons) raid on the Leeton-Whitton Crows Australian Rules Football Club’s  ’rub down’ and pre-match hype up sheds - Leeton Showgrounds. 

Sunday, June 6th, 2pm. Front row deluxe grandstand seat (cushion provided), Leeton-Whitton Crows V Narrandera Imperial Eagles.

Sun, June 6th, 10pm. ‘Leeton By Night’ - Roo Shooting,  Brobenah Hills.

Tuesday, June 8th, 10:30 am. Full-body waxing session,  full-body body piercing,  full-body Juju Bed toxin removal, Tresses Salon, Pine Avenue Leeton.

Wednesday, June 8th: 3:oopm. Flight: Air Valium, Wagga Wagga-Sydney. Detox.

*  Just in: The Rev Kev releases KJ tour statement (see comments section).

* Pre Schedule Release Story below…..

It’s pathetic – even criminal – when self-obsession gets the upper hand.

Truly, I cannot believe I ever wrote this:

Kerrie Jean desperately wants you to participate in this blog.

At this time of life, another failure could be catastrophic. (September, 2008)

(KJ: ‘I am willing to strip myself bare…’ credit: Tracey Trompf)

Looking back, how silly, how childish because Boy O Boy have I got news!

Simply put, I am in receipt of a Highly Stimulatin’ Development Package from ABC Management. It’s a ‘no strings’ proposition and (just quietly) comes at the end of a  ‘take no prisoners’  dog-eat-dog competitive process.

Beat that!

If I felt like it, I could build a new ‘Kerriejean.com Trans Fat  Tuckshop’ at Leeton Primary School, I could a fund a Grong Grong bolt hole for my lesbian lover - or I could blow taxpayers’ monies on a couple of vials of botox or derma filler. 

*Ed’s note:  Just so you know I’m not kidding, I did secretly self-fund three vials of derma filler three months ago.

For the record – and if you’re a case of ‘derma filler just waiting to happen’ - the sixteen 52-centimetre-long  pre derma filler face deadening needles going right through my right lower cheek and emerging out the other did hurt a bit. 

But still, no pain, no gain.

In fact, so natural, so non-intrusive was my $1200 worth of Australian made derma filler, no one noticed any difference.  And that’s what you want, is it not?

Anyway, now is now and (can you believe it?) on Friday I’ll be jetting to the Riverina with a full set of jowls, a producer with more laughter lines than Charlie Chaplin - and enough hard cash to stay in whatever motels we want within a 1098 kilometre radius of Wagga Wagga.

Pacific Rim populace – in unison:

What for? It’s afterall my money you’re playing with? [I knew this'd come up, I just knew it.....sigh, sigh, sigh]

‘ALL RIGHT, steady on….to…to….to…bloody well collect what we call in the business ‘material’ for a groundbreaking on-airable, podcastable, on- lineable, twatable, facebookable, multi-platformable, demountable, Walkley Awardable COMEDY series.’

Thank you KJ, but I’m NOT convinced…..

Maybe you just wanna get outta town? 

……Things a ‘little hot’ presently?  Got a meta-narrative? Got a through line? Got ANYTHING on paper?

‘Thank you for asking Pacific Rim populace.  Just so happens I do…….[sigh, sigh, sigh]

The meta-narrative is that I’ve never understood why most Australians don’t think about - let alone have real affection - for Leeton.

So, I’m going to emotionally (and physically) strip myself naked in an attempt to discover whether my enduring – even crazed love – is based on cheap nostalgia  or something much more…….’

……Perhaps even – from teenagehood - my pathological inability to create a new and viable adult life…..

(Oh God, oh God, I’ve said it). 

So confronting is all this, the other day I broke down in my producer’s arms:

I truly don’t mind being stripped bare at every turn, but I fear peeling myself back only to find – like a cling peach on a canning line -  that I have no core.

Producer:  Shut up KJ! Even if you don’t conclude you’ll go back to Leeton to live, would you consider going there to die…?

God, this is hard. But I if I continue to peel myself back just a little every day, things could work out…..

So, while I write – freezing in just my sports brassiere and cottontails - this is what I’ve (potentially) got lined (potentially) up (potentially) thus far……

*Brazilian wax (Friday). Producer: Good work! I’m surprised you found someone to do it.

*Trip to Griffith to find someone to help me get back the $1200 dollars I blew on the derma filler (Tuesday).

*Visit to the Leeton-Whitton Crows dressing shed (Sunday). I sidled in there once as a teenager when post-match ’rubbing down’ was underway – only to be told that if I ever did it again, police would be called.

….I’d like to know, HAVE to know, whether things have changed re Riverina spatial gender relations.

What YOU can do to help with this project:

*Pray that the prop jet makes it to Wagga Wagga and that I keep my traditional in-flight valium dose right on the knife edge that is just between comatose and a panic induced front page making in-flight incident. 

*Tell everybody that KJ is striking a blow for women of a certain age and it’d be a crying shame if she peeled herself right back to her very core – and no-one gave a damm.

Finally, everyone can look forward to hearing from (and seeing a lot more of) my new manager, Jim.  He’s got his whole life ahead of him. I don’t think I could live with myself if I ruined that.

******So, a very special day for kerriejean.com, particularly when it comes to value adding. All reports from your patch welcome, plus the EXTRA pressure of suggestions for THE project. This is what you do:

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow 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, old sad sack that I am……always takes me at least 10 days to get back into the depravity of big city life after ’summering over’ in The Riverine…..

So - as uusse – I’m downright twitchy……

One minute I’m gonna clean out the fridge, the next I’m opening a plus-size frock emporium on Pine Avenue, Leeton, then I’m getting six spotty new cushions to give this dump a lift – and then I’m right back on Pine Avenue as the owner-operator of The Riverina’s first carbon neutral Unisex Brazilian Waxing Rooms……. 

 ‘Tell ‘em KJ’s Dreamin!’ (Cr: Meredith James: flickr)

And please, PLEASE don’t think you’d be the first to front me with this novel piece of advice:

‘WELL IF YA LIKE IT SOOOOO MUCH WHY DON’T YA LIVE THERE…?!’

And the answer is……because maybe, just maybe we love where we come from because it’s the only place we can still be ruffled, perturbed, all shook up - DISCONCERTED.

Some recent examples of Riverina DISCONCERTION in action……

* I’m disconcerted when my big handsome nephew (who as a youngun’ thought all my deadbeat boyfriends were fascinating) appears with his traditional greeting:

‘Gettin’ any babe?’

*I’m disconcerted when ex-classmate Barb (looking a million bucks) approaches me in the Intimate Apparel aisle of The Reject Shop:

‘I’m great KJ, still with hunky carp farmer Steve. Kids all grown up.  All rocket scientists. Nearly didn’t recognise you. GEE, THE YEARS CAN BE CRUEL….’

* I’m disconcerted when Gwennie grabs the pegs: ‘THIS IS HOW YOU HANG OUT A PAIR OF KNICKERS.’ You’ve never understood something pretty basic KJ: ‘IF IT’S WORTH DOING IT’S WORTH DOING WELL….’

*And I’m EXTRA disconcerted when in 43-degree heat I’m lugging a couple of Woolies bags (full of diet Fanta) past St Joseph’s Church and just for a moment think: WONDER IF CONFESSION IS ON…..

And (just for a moment) I imagine putting the diet Fanta aside and going into dark box and knelling down and waiting for the little curtains to separate….and then telling the priest it’s been a ‘long time no see’ but I’m here to come clean and I’m a bit DISCONCERTED because a lot of what I’m about to say isn’t pretty, if not downright disgustin’….

Priest:  ‘So child, I gather we won’t be humming along to I Love You Just The Way You Are  by the time we’re finished in here….?’

And then I pull myself together. And Barb’s words are back:

GEE THE YEARS CAN BE CRUEL…..

So, let’s all hope that this year we’ll all experience more of the exquisite jolt that is DISCONCERTION. 

*Looking forward to hearing from you – disconcerted or not. Perhaps you’re experiencing free floating disconcertion which I’ve read is the trickiest of them all. That’s, of course, apart from when you turn up for work after the extended hols and the fruitcake from down the corridor appears: ‘If there’s just ONE person I’m happy to see……..’ 

**El Gingero & The Sundance Kiddo**

Talk about disconcertin’!

The Ginger Man has gone awl Western like……and the results? Sen – SATIONALE!

El Gingero -  He’s Drinkin’, He’s Talkin’ Big,  He’s Woman-I-sin’, He’s Shootin’ from his hip flask – right now in our comments section….

All posters take a deep breath…..and just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow 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 – just ignore it.

First, a message: I hope you don’t find this story gratuitous in these most uncertain of times. I am well aware that, for mum and dad investors, bouts of vigorous lovemaking are probably the last thing on their minds.

HOWEVER: There’s been lots of hoopla surrounding the recent publication of an updated version of the 1972 ‘how to’ bedroom classic, The Joy Of Sex. Click here for: Sample of hoopla

Sadly, the man who authored, The Joy Of Sex, Dr Alex Comfort, was working so hard on the New Joy, he died on the job. So, it was the British sexologist, Susan Quilliam, who brought the new tome to publication.

When news came through that there was a New Joy, I immediately set about doing what I do best: reading about sex. Night after night, I poured over the New and Old Joys, undertaking exhaustive textual analysis. My mission? To compare, to contrast, to find out how sexual procliviites had changed in the period bookended by Gough and Kevins’ elections.

For many nights, my ‘compare and contrast’ mission threw up nought. Both Joys are full of explanations and drawings of several hundred very weird and confronting coital positions. Both Joys still mention specialities like pattes d’araignee, croupade cuissade and Viennese oysters. I thought pattes d’araignee al least sounded achievable. But, when I quizzed my favourite fella at my local Woolies about ingredients, he looked blank. So, by the time I returned to my research, I was very, very despondent.

Then: Paydirt. Great Paydirt. This is what I threw up. The Old Joy has no less than four pages on how to conduct oneself, how to avoid making a fool of oneself at orgies. May I quote?

Orgies need hell of a lot of martini lubrication.  A warning though: They tend to be run by liberal intellectuals who invariably end up talking rather than doing. Hence we can well believe that the best orgiasts are the prosperous upper middle class, minor jet setters and showbiz types. (Comfort, A, MD,PhD, pp,168-172, The Joy Of Sex, Simon and Schuster, Fireside Book, 1972, sic).

Then, Dr Comfort nailed his theme in no uncertain terms:

There is no reason why sex should not be social if you wish …there could also be complications and anxieties, but there can always be complications, even at bridge parties…..

But, by 2008 The New Joy signalled a complete turn around. All references to the sensual, Socially Inclusive world of orgiasts, had been wiped clean. And why? To quote:

Because, in general, society accepts the norm that sex happens in the private realm between two people.

And so, The New Joy strongly advises to keep even threesomes or foursomes, let alone sixtytwosomes, to the realm of fantasy.

So, my  ’compare and contrast’ assignment had delivered big time but I knew my toughest, most draining work had just begun. For 16 days, one question overrode my routine creepy thoughts: WHY had orgiasts been excluded from the overarching policy of Social Inclusion?

My conclusions?

* The Rudd, and other western democratic governments, are waiting to see what emissions trading schemes will look like before inviting orgiasts to the table.

* Crippling petrol prices mean that millions of orgiasts have excluded themselves from what used to be their favourite tilt at Social Inclusion. Trips across town for just another orgy, can no longer be justified.

* Orgiasts of the prosperous middle-class first identified by Dr Comfort in 1972, now have pitiful bodies. Millions are finding even twosomes, very hard yakka. Still more have been brought low by society’s fetishistic worship of youth and perfection. For these former orgiasts, even rare bouts of one-to-one lovemaking, are only just tolerable.

I’d love to you to help me with my on-going research. Did the orginal Joy Of Sex change your life or did you think it was bit much? Should Bunnings – the king of DIY - stock the New Joy Of Sex? Should any right-thinking society ban orgiasts, menage-a-troisists and swingers from seeking any Government funding for projects falling under the Social Inclusion banner? Or perhaps, you attended your first orgy when your excitement levels peaked after your very first Moratorium march and you have no intention of stopping. Love to hear from you too, you devil….

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place when you 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 you just ignore the ‘website’ space – not necessary!

Many women are lapping up my advice on how to get a workable Summer wardrobe together in difficult times. Just click on this thingo for a recap: Throw Everything Out!

Funny the way things work but that story prompted many equally fragile men to approach me for urgent counsel. Namely:

KJ, DO YOU HAVE A POSITION ON SPEEDOS?

Well, they lucked in because I most certainly do have a position on Speedos and it’s unequivocal!

From my understanding, Speedos were developed in the Sixties as a Cold War weapon. And Speedos did halt the juggernaut that was the Eastern Bloc’s grip on the pool during the Olympics of that period. So, I am in no doubt that the development (and rapid deployment) of Speedos remains Australia’s greatest contribution to the Cold War effort. However, it was never, ever intended that Speedos be employed during times of peace.

But still, millions of men in Speedos continue to disport themselves on beaches and at municipal swimming pool complexes, worldwide. Two words spring to mind: Unneccessary and Inappropriate. Indeed, it’s as if the very ideals of so-called Civil Societies, are being mocked.

Subsequently, I have found that appealing to a Speedo disporter’s ‘higher values’ is useless, if not counterproductive. Instead, I have come to the conclusion that cold, hard facts are the way to go. Here goes:

***A woman may like, even go nuts over, a beautiful antique clock but that does not mean she’s automatically interested in its works.

***A Speedo disporter, even sub-consciously, is desperately trying to advertise virility. Tragically, he could be blissfully unaware he’s a case before the Unfair Claims Tribunal, just waiting to happen.

***A Speedo disporter on a first date, is beyond help. A dear, nervy friend of mine was over-the-moon when a fairly presentable chap asked her to join him for an afternoon on the beach. All was going well until he stripped down – to Speedos. I felt like I was suddenly meeting someone’s friend I’d heard and thought a lot about, but wasn’t quite ready shake hands, she reported.

Final thing: I abhor the term, Budgie Smugglers. Budgie Smugglers is no quaint piece of vernacular. Quite the opposite. The continued use of Budgie Smugglers only serves to reinforce the view of the Speedo disporter that what he is doing is terrific. Very, very sad.

KJ would love to hear about your position on Speedos – it’s a debate we must have, even though the possibilities for upset, are many.

How to exercise your Democratic Right:

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place when you 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 you just ignore the ‘website’ space – not necessary!

Gee, the fellas at the famous Parkes Telescope are good to me!

And, they’ve come good again. The fellas have again been hard at work, intercepting this text overnight. And guess whose inbox was all the better for it?

Here goes:

Dear Therese,

First things first…….I swear black and blue, I haven’t been near any pole dancing clubs.  Watertight on that front. I said to my security boys: If I’ve had one too many and want to kick on, just pull out those emergency restraints we use at community cabinet meetings and use ‘em!

In the meantime, everyone here is so damn busy. To tell you the truth, a bad hair day for Julia would be more likely than me getting calls returned.

Still, I’ve had a bit of luck. One of my security boys, Wayne, said that his brother-in-law, Johnnie, has an expat mate,  Wazza, (a real whizz kid),  who’s working on the floor at Goldman Sachs.  We moved fast.

So, had a working lunch with Wazza today.

He filled me in.

Wazza: Look Kevin, it’s all rooted. Let me put it this way: Do you like Glen Campbell?

I said: Well Wazza, I like Glen Campbell, but Therese LOVES the man.

Wazza: Well, let me put it this way Kevin: You’d be flat out getting an appointment with the Mayor of Galveston right now!

So Therese, I’m afraid my ideas on recycling probably won’t get a look-in, this trip.  Just quietly,  I could have stayed at home, googling Wall Street like everyone else.

Love, Kev.

******** How to exercise your democratic rights by responding to any of Kerrie Jean’s musings.

Just click on the ‘comments’ thingo (just down there to the right) and follow the simple instructions. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper.  Do put in a name. Do put in your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address. It does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the ‘website’ space – not necessary!