KerrieJean.com

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.

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.

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.

Regressive-Repulsive-Repugnant Thoughts, Free-Floating-Anchored Anxiety…….

EVEN sudden and inexplicable twinges of sympathy for the now officially ‘unhinged’ marauding, incendiary serial fete opener, the Honorable Member for Griffth……

Serenity Now!

Could it be that clear, present and mounting pressures – the impending multi-media KJ extravanganza, Gwennie’s insistence she’ll drop dead at precisely 10pm on August 21st if  ‘that Abbott’ gets in, relentless controversy over my new fringe (’looks great’/'looks s***house’) – be threatening the very centrepiece of my Personal Coping Strategic Plan?

Could it be that KJ’s KERFUFFLE VALVE is about to blow?

[KJ: 'Serenity Now!' Cr: Sarge Devil: flickr]

…..The last time my Kerfuffle Valve was seriously under threat was in the year 2000…….

Talk about a Personal Perfect Storm….

Leeton had become too big for me. Too frantic. Alienation had set in……

Coming from a family that doesn’t age at all well, even social trips to Woolies to pick up a carrot were rendered nightmares.

(KJ to old schoolfriend) “Hello Barb, how’re the kiddies?”

“I don’t know ya from a bar of Solvol. But I have got TWO things to say: ‘Get yaself some decent moisturiser and keep away from my kids…..’”

My Kerfuffle Valve couldn’t argue with that.

I had to get away - fast.

Soon, I’d secured a Winter lease on a bungalow in Currie, the capital of King Island which nestles in the wild western entrance to Bass Strait. (Yes, yes, YES….where all your soft cheese requirements come from – including those that’d benefit from a quick squirt of Exit Mould)

After an indescribably horrifying turbulent  five-valium-40-minute trip from Melbourne’s Tullamarine Airport I finally collapsed in the Currie bungalow, my Kerfuffle Valve saving sanctuary…..

With two cardboard cartons…

One jam-packed with cottontails and other intimate requisites including ‘Mum’ and ‘Mylanta’. The other? A more eclectic booty – (1) Chocolate roll (unfilled) compliments of Gwennie, (1) Superior ‘Mawson Hut’ brand doona and (12) bottles, celebratory Riverina *’Golden Gate’ Spumante.

*Everything under control - Kerfuffle Valve firmly secured.

The night closed in……

Working furiously with a combination of six gas cyclinders and three tonnes of old growth forest, I’d even managed to bring the Kerfuffle Valve sanctuary’s parlour temperature up to two degrees.

Then, IT started…….

A noise not unlike that in a Qantas jet engine test cell…

Incessant rumbling, then incessant whirring, then incessant roaring, roaring, roaring, ROARING…….

Every window in the sanctuary was shaking, shaking, SHAKING…….outside, the twister whipped cottage garden threatened to burst straight through the panes  – to become the parlour garden.

THEN the lights banged, flickered and died…..

Crawling on the sanctuary floor, I managed to put through a call to a loved one:

 ’Tell Gwennie I love her…….new perm, tell Gwennie I love her……new perm’. 

(Loved One)  ’Good luck KJ, good luck – trust me, I’ll make sure your super is split exactly five ways, good luck KJ, good luck….’

It must have been then that I collapsed. Caused by the complete failure of my Kerfuffle Valve.

Morning dawned clear and bright……

Stumbling out the door with a box of Bandaids and a bottle of Dettol,  triage nurse KJ was ready to minister to other not so lucky survivors of  the twister.

In the main street of Currie (called ‘Main Street’) everything was calm, quiet……eerie…..

In a small cafe, people sat reading papers while hoeing into bacon and eggs…..eerie, eerie, eerie.

I asked the woman behind the counter what I could to help.

‘In regard to WHAT darlin’?’

‘In regard to the tornado.’

‘That was nothin’……wanna coffee?’

*I relate this because I was downright fascinated to read that the King Island community has offered itself as a potential site for a superdooper asylum seeker detention facility:

 http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/news/sunday-telegraph/king-island-asylum-plan/story-e6frewt0-1225893369820

My considered view?

You CANNOT dump vulnerable people – who’ve just risked their lives on the high seas – in the Twister Capital of Australia.

You CANNOT…..

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

I intend to write more of my adventures on King Island at a later date. Trust me, I had quite a few with their repercussions still being felt right up to this day.

So, have you ever done a runner in the interests of life and dignity? 

On the National Watch, your thoughts on THE DEBATE most welcome….for what it’s worth,  I always suspect that when people present as just a bit  ’too civilised’  – UNCIVILITY lurks just below the surface.

And – anything else erupting or receding on your patch?

Trust me, nothing is too small for discussion in kerriejean.com. It’s called ‘Democracy’ and I’d very much like to show some Leadership in the pursuit thereof.

So, why not throw caution to the wind and exercise a basic 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.

Scattergun, grossly ineffective, ridiculous…..

Armchair critics on Hec’s Border Security Policy in relation to threatened domestic property, Acacia Avenue, Leeton, Australia.

The ugly truth? He NEVER had a chance - until he got tough, really, really TOUGH.

cr: gem:flickr

The reality is that over the years Hec’d put in place a seemingly impressive array of border protection measures.

…..One 14-inch-high prickly pear hedge, one foul-tempered toy guard dog, Bindy Boo Major, one torch and the piece de resistance, one Cocky Ross.

Strategically positioned in his re-inforced steel cage right next to the back door, Cocky Ross was the last line of defence: a tactical tour-de-force, a pre-emptive highly trained single cocky unit. Unsolicitored callers quickly became disorientated when, from the cage, emanated the eerie, repetitive command:

I’m Cocky Ross, P*** Off, I’m Cocky Ross, P*** Off, I’m Cocky Ross, P*** Off…….

Problem was that once the shock wore off, intruders declared Cocky Ross, delightful. 

Subesquently, many an Electrolux Man, Riverina Virgin Hunter, Life Insurance Salesman or member of  a Mobile Nun Pastoral Care SWAT Surveillance team decided they’d hang around, get to know Cocky Ross better. [Nun to nun: 'He's quite sweet, isn't he?']  

So, around the clock, Hec’s fibro fortress – jam packed with priceless treasures, including five lovely virgins - was subject to scores of  dramatic incursions…..

Electrolux men emptying buckets of rice bubbles and cow pats over the lounge room carpet to demonstrate sensational suction capabilities…

Life insurance salesmen [with jazzy ties and colossal signet rings] telling a terrified, goggle-eyed Gwennie that Hec’s beer consumption would surely ’have killed ten far stronger men by now’…..

And Avon ladies – who always looked liked they’d been exhumed - putting the wind up Gwennie even more by warning that if  ’something’s NOT done about THE wrinkles’ she’d be lucky to even keep the man who (according to every actuarial graph) should be long dead.

But the most audacious of the belligerent border buccaneers?

The Virgin Hunters. 

All day, Virgin Hunters were jumping over the prickly pear hedge, throwing Bindy Boo Major calming Bex baits, telling Cocky Ross to P*** Off in no uncertain terms – and KNOCKING on the door.

…..Ugly, barely presentable, handsome, good English skills [Gedday, where's Julie?] poor English skills [Gedday, where's ya big sister?] illegal [six 'Driving Under The Influence'/last six months] legal [my dad knows Hec] from exotic places [Griffith, Wagga] or from stuggling hamlets [Murrami, Wamoon].

Hec knew SOMETHING had to be done – and goddam it, if issues of political correctness or personal dignity got in the way of controlling the Virgin Hunters he’d be left looking like the mug he secretly feared he was.

The new policy?

Only SKILLED Virgin Hunters would be allowed in. Virgin Hunters who could – and most surely would – contribute……electricians, plumbers, builders, painters….even young men willing to put a bin out or cut a bit of wood.

And it worked.

Family records show that between 1972-1980 – the years when the creative Border Protection Policy was at its zenith – Virgin Hunters [ultimately getting nothing more than a pash and a pilsener] completely re-wired, re-painted, re-plumbed and put out 750 tonnes of rubbish ALL in the interests of keeping Hec’s fibro palace habitable.

Hard but fair.

And that Miss Gillard, is the cornerstone of all good policy.

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

My goodness, it’s certainly been a busy couple of weeks. Between getting a new fringe and keeping up with national dramas, it’s been exhausting but (just between you and me) invigorating as well.

A big welcome to our new, celebrity poster, ‘Red N’ Ready’  (whowoulddathought she’d make time for little ole us?)

And thanks also to members of the Riverina community who’ve snubbed their noses at any semblance of border control and have been jumping willy nilly right over the razor wire - and landing flat bang in kerriejean.com. Would also enjoy hearing from folks who love their hometowns….whether they be cities, regional centres, hamlets, railway sidings, volcanic craters……you name it. 

One thing’s for sure -  the vexed issue of border protection (of the mind in particular) will always be around. That’s my experience anyway………

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.

Talk about over-reaction re Miss ‘Bluie’ Gillzo.

As the product of a trailblazing (albeit ruthless) female leader – The Honourable, Respectable and Highly Presentable Gwennie Ross – it’s all quite baffling……..

Particularly because Gwennie’s iron-fisted rule over the State of Leetonia (population, seven) is still the stuff of legend in the Riverina’s vibrant, gender-obsessed feminist circles.

And not  just because of her genital configuration. PM Gwennie also had a Five Girl Kitchen Cabinet: Miss Mezza-Anne, Miss Lizzie-Kaye, Miss Julie-Ellen, Miss Frank-Marie and Miss Me.

(Gwennie’s Cabinet Room: cr: Betsyjean79:flickr)

Her consort, Hec, was NEVER given (or sought) a portfolio.

Best to see him as Leetonia’s Ambassador-At-Large. The Consort’s life was NOT his own but he accepted his role with dignity and grace.

…….A constant round of  high level talks in the Leeton Hotel, heading up elite duck shooting parties at Tuckerbill Swamp, breakfast briefings with captains of industry at his workplace, the Letona Cannery –  and sombre prayer vigils at St Joseph’s Church. The Consort’s plea? That Leetonia would survive its recurring financial crisise.

Being the last born of the PM and The Consort’s five lovely cabinet members, Gwennie’s style of  ‘take no prisoners’ politics was my life.

I knew NO better.

By age five, I was the PM’s number cruncher – a job which tested my loyalties and ethical framework on a daily basis.

‘PM, watch that Julie-Ellen. Yes, she may be reasonably pretty – and quite popular - but she’s bored with her Bathroom Exit Moulder portfolio. And we both know that a bored Minister is a dangerous Minister…….’

The truth?

I hankered for a job more in line with my talents. Stuck in the (junior) Television Duster portfolio for 18 months, I was desperate to move on – right up and into the Bathroom Exit Moulder cabinet possie.

But is wasn’t going to end there……..

My strategy?

Get rid of the very telegenic Exit Moulder Minister – and then, in quick succession, ‘do in’ Minister Mezza-Anne (Linoleum Maintenance), Minister Frank-Marie (Foul Tempered Family Pet – Bindi-Boo Major Shampooer) and finally……….oust Deputy PM, Lizzie-Kaye.

*As I’d report often to PM Gwennie, I didn’t think her deputy’s heart was really in Leetonia. More often than not, she was out and about campaigning hard in traditional male-centred electorates. ’NOTHING wrong with that PM Gwennie BUT having  someone who honestly enjoys the company of women isn’t asking for much…….’   

Soon, I was making even more serious overtures:

‘PM, I really think I’m ready for a more high profile job. While I have enjoyed my Television Dusting portfolio and have embraced all responsibilities in relation to it – I will soon be six.  And I’d like to think MY loyalty, and my NOT inconsiderable efforts, have been noted.’

PM Gwennie knew she had a rising star on her hands. Maybe she was even frightened of what she’d produced – a feisty, immoral, increasingly obnoxious, brow-beating, belligerent apparatchik who’d stop at nothing to crash (or crash through) Leetonia.

At the last minute, Gwennie wavered.

Truth was she’d always had an (inexplicable) soft spot for the reasonably pretty, and quite popular, Minister for Exit Moulding.

BUT she did create a new portfolio for the former Minister for Television Dusting – The Checking For Brown Rot On The Peach Tree portfolio.

And that’s as far as I got.

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

So, plenty is engross ourselves with this week. Are you the product of a woman? If so, do tell……….

And, please report in on what’s happening in your part of the world – good, bad, indifferent……….

As is The Curse of bloggers everywhere, I await………………

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.