Why migspace was taking back seat..and now it's ridin shotgun

In the vain hope of communicating with whomever originally stopped by for s scathing once-over, I return to the post of self-obsessed web-publishing abuser


in a bizarre moment where I am not - refreshingly - obsessing over ways in which a group of year 6 girls may debate over the virtues of whaling, or hounding some self-proclaimed media expert or the like for a 4th Estate story (this, in fact is not due to any great virtuous act of my own, but more the fact that there is absolutely shit-all to report on in the "maligned democracy" that is our 4th Estate..


Oh, wait, except of course that awesome coincidence of Herald Sun revelation of lil drug moll jr. Dakota Williams goin to some poxy private school - and off our hard-earned tax dollar, fancy! -  but, dang, turns out some lil bastardo already has sorted out this role of media in the death of underworld serial killer, Carl Williams...Case closed, I revert back to the medium partly responsible for killing the industry...


And goatie is a case in point, just how the bloody hell does this "footage" denote even the slightest inclination towards cinematographic merit, almost any youtube clip would boast greater credits...


I believe that it was Leunig that regaled the existence of this deadly assassin, in his book "Goatperson" he pens a poem that concludes..

Good morning, well connected, Goat!

Parental guidance only required in cases of hyper-imagination...


This is all of great concern as I have been in an extremely casual position of radio producer for all of a couple a months and even since then, the signs seem all to point against any potential for a hip and happenin shock jock wannabe as myself..apparently it's all a boy's club, so dang, I am in fact, in the hardcore throes of repressed opression..


But, hey, in fact, I am no longer spending lusty and longing nights in the company of the saucy Spaniard cleaner (whom, for lack of imagination, have dubbed, "Rosa") emerging via secret passageway slinking her way around 2ser, adorned in neon rubber gloves and a world-wearied frown...what with her and the graveyard blues man KK, it was becoming quite the intimate occasion..


What this in fact means is that my sanity levels are increasing with improved production measures of 4th Estate..but hey judge for yourself if you so desire, i enforced a twitter reportage ban awhile back now, so don't think that this is in anyway an inspired or new idea in media reportage..


So, now, I turn back to the old faithful, typing ground that doesn't break off with a dazed look of befuddlement as I continue on in digression...(today on the show was a corker, going from Melbourne Talk Radio to pharmaceutical conspiracy based product placement, although, on paper, it doens't seem like such a stretch..)


So, watch this (mig)space, more shall evolve, including the most amusing anecdotal part of my life, my role as debating coach for Year 5, 6 and 12 girls belonging to one of the most opulent and grandeur educational institutions (the term school doesn't quite cut it here..) that my skanky Newy past has never quite readied me for...


Receiving critical acclaim for excellence in the field of Friday-night pub banter: a startling insight into the pageant world of North Sydney debating competition...expect a wordpress blog, "Mass-Debating"...bedtime now, methinks...