‘G’day viewers I’m Wal Wallaby, Roo-ving reporter. My assignment today is in response to complaints by the huge Kangaroo community here outside the Writer’s Room. You’ve seen their pictures in previous Blogs, forced to pose and look cute *I know, I don’t need any forcing, eh Ladies?* all so they can graze on the luxurious grasses that abound on his front lawn – hang on – sorry my producer informed me it’s luxurious because the bloke here doesn’t cut it. Hmm, tastes good too. Where was I? Right, so I’ve interviewed many victims of the intrusive long lens of this Smith character and I have to ask, Is he infringing on the rights of his subjects? Lets have a chat with this little lady.
‘For the viewers Madam, what’s your complaint?’
‘Look Buster, I haven’t got all day. I’ve spent ages wrapped up in a tube, it’s my first day out and apparently I’m supposed to be pollinating, oh, look a Butterfly.’
‘Err well, thank you Madam Butterfly.’ *pun intended*
‘Let’s see what King Parrot has to say, I’m not keen on redheads, they tend to carry on a bit.’
‘Excuse me Parrot, I’m here to talk about the bloke with the big lens and his intrusions into the wildlife population. Can you tell my viewers what you think of him?’
‘Squawk, squawk, think of him, think of him I can’t bloody talk, squawk.’ – ‘Well that was straight from the parrot’s mouth. It seems Smith journeyed up here to the Bunya Mountains to once again traumatise innocent creatures. Parrot here poses for food and well, Smith was born a little south of the Scottish border, I need say no more. Wait, sorry my bloody producer keeps waffling in my ear. She says that for fairness in reporting the viewers should be aware he nearly blew a lung out walking around taking pictures. I’m not convinced.’
The next picture is well, disturbing. For a start there are spiders in there somewhere and being ‘in the paddock’ I know all about them. I’m supposed to talk about ART here, okay, okay he’s turned an ordinary snapshot into *art* a bit of reflection and you have an airy fairy shot.’
‘Give these humans something new to play with and well, this is what you get. It was a snap of some trees in the New England Ranges, now look what he’s done. Set photography back decades. I mean who want’s to look at old pictures?’ Wait, Right I’m not supposed to let my prejudices get in the way of an assignment. *whispers* ‘Who sent this bloody producer along.’
‘Okay, move along nothing to see here but my watering hole. Bit chilly yesterday morning, I covered the weather and I must ask the boss that in future I be supplied with a knitted covering for my – hmmm – you know those things that seem to drag a little on the ground when I hop. Wait, oh I’m not supposed to get too personal here. Moving quickly along you just need to know that if you had to squat in the frost to have your morning cuppa then….’
‘Now he is getting artsy fartsy, can I say that? I saw this sunrise yesterday and I said to my producer, Rhianna, ‘Does that remind you of anything? She said ‘Yeah, the sun shining out of your…’ ‘I must admit it has a certain appeal to it, had to laugh though. I heard he set everything up and as the sun shone out of my, sorry, as it came up his camera battery died from the cold. Ha, ha bloody hilarious.
‘This is beyond me, I studied art in the pouch. If you don’t believe me ask Mum, she’s still trying to clean the graffiti off. Where was I? It grows on you, perhaps if I asked he would maybe capture my best angle. Hang on he did.’
‘Not a fan of horses, great lumbering things that they are and curious beyond belief. I was in amongst a grove of paper bark trees with Rhianna yesterday morning. We were, err discussing todays show when one of them stuck his head in and, well let’s say Rhianna is a tad athletic. I may have to get it looked at. Horses, back to the horses. Not a lot seems to bother them, well they aren’t dragging their anatomy on the frosty grass. I have to give a chuckle though, I asked this one if it was sad, she said why do you ask. Oh I guess it’s your long face. Wait a minute, sorry, apparently we’re not doing comedy. What’s that Rhianna, you’re still laughing from yesterday? Uhh, if it wasn’t for the travel expenses I’d go back to modelling.’
‘Oops, have to add some info here, apparently the bottom picture was taken from a hill about two kilometres from the Writer’s Room. Have you seen that room? Stuff everywhere, clutter and gasp, knives and guns and rude pictures and books and not a pinup Roo in sight. The mountain range in the background is the Great Dividing Range, with Cunningham’s Gap situated in between the two peaks on the left. Who do they think I am, David Attenborough or something? Back to…. argghh.’
‘This is Rhianna Roo, we’re sorry for the break in transmission. Wall is busy right now, it seems that the horse wasn’t the only creature snooping in the paper bark trees the other day. That’s hubby on the right, he was an exhibition boxer for years. Until next week, thump, Randy you leave Wal alone, he means nothing to me, nothing. What, he won’t need a little woolly covering when you’ve finished with him?’ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Transmission break.