Well the winter beats on down and all we poor innocents can do is endure. The gray of the sky has put us all in a strange hermit-like mood, retreating to our studios and throwing on our heaters. I've made about forty litres of various soups in the last few days, and it's near impossible to get a good temperature in my drum room. Pixieminx is having a shitty time setting casts because of the damp cold down in her studio. The only good side is keeping clay in the cellar, which has that chill that Regan's room had at the end of the film (think people). The only pleasures are in playing Wii and hot baths; if only we could combine the two we'd be in business. With this winter being so foreboding, I begin to wonder about the power of God almighty. You see, here in Melbourne it's practically snowing - but bugger all north of here is Sydney (like if you're reading this from overseas I'm telling you, "Sydney is bugger all away from Melbourne!"), and in Sydney is the annual Youth Day where the Pope himself is at this very moment - but somehow they're experiencing full sun. I don't think that's Jehovah God helping out, sounds more like Ra to me. But either way, it's freaking astonishing weather round here. I say that if awesome weather follows religious people around, send 'em all to Fiji and make 'em work as bellhops or some shit. That way no surprise typhoons will take out poor windsurfers or drown those guys who climb the tree and grab you a coconut and bash it open on a rock like a clever chimp and chuck a straw in it and try all day to sleep with your wife - that's right Hunati, the wound's still fresh. The fact that Sydney isn't four feet underwater is mind boggling down here, most of us are considering whether these religious bafoons might just be onto something. The pope is all over TV, which has allowed the people of this great nation to get to know him a little better, when they otherwise might have found themselves watching the weak as piss, "Australian Gladiators" or re-runs of Diagnosis: Murder! We've learned that the pope doesn't move his arms when he walks, his speeches are pleasantly short, he has a special Pope winter jacket that totally matches his Pope attire, he's really sorry about that raping business and he rocks an all new spiced up Pope-mobile that makes the Bat-mobile look like a Honda Civic with a gay raccoon at the wheel dressed as a naughty nurse listening to "It's Rainin' Men" as sung by Alvin and the Chipmunks on their live tour of Belgium, making this particular raccoon not only stupid for driving a Civic and of course very gay, but he is also a cross dressing fetishist who happens to be a die hard Chipmunks fan. Yep, that Pope sure has come full circle. I wish him well and welcome him to our humble little continent. So with that, to all the visiting Cardinals, Priests and general humdingers I'll say - G'Day Priests, now apologise for D'Gay Priests. That is all...
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