Welcome to The Buzz’s countdown to the Australian federal election. I was planning on jotting down some serious thoughts about this circus, but that has proven to be nigh on impossible. For those, I think I’ll wait to see what weird scenes emerge in the wee hours of Sunday morning (which is a good time for serious thoughts).

So I’ve hand-balled the job to the brain of my friend Michaela C, blogger, writer, cat lover and comedienne. So, here she is, along with some of the stuff that goes on between her and her head …  

My brain: “Shhhhhhh … listen … can you hear that?”

Me: “No?”

My brain: “Exactly. That’s the sweet, sweet silence of a media blackout just before an election starts.”

Me: “Really? No more smug, pursed-lipped, unctuous bullshit from Mr Sheen?”

My brain: “Nope! No more creepy, sexist, grinning crap from The Lizard King either.”

Me: “Finally a reprieve from the months of seemingly endless photo ops, Hi-Viz vests, baby-kissing and hair-sniffing.”

My brain: “Well, thank fuck for small mercies.”

Me: “So now what, I wonder? Where to from here, for Australia?

My brain: “I have no idea, but I don’t think it’s going to be pretty.”

Me: “Are we heading back into Howard-esque waters of austerity for the working class, and prosperity for the rest; or are we keeping to our current heading, with its faux compassion and cult of personality?”

My brain: “Oooh, very eloquent with just a slight touch of wank. Whatever happens, I think it’s fair to say we’re all fucked.”

Me: “Who are you voting for?”

My brain: “It’s a secret. Let tomorrow be a surprise.”

Me: “Fat chance of that, if the headlines screaming ‘AUSTRALIA IS READY FOR THE LIZARD KING’ are right.”

My brain: “It sounds like we’re all about to be impregnated by a reptile.”

Me: “Thank you for making that just a little bit more repulsive.”

My brain: “See? Told you. We’re all fucked.”

Me: “If that’s true, you’ll find me at the bottom of a very large bottle of decent Shiraz on Saturday night.”

My brain: “If it is true, we’ll find Australia lost and wandering about with a shocked look on its face on Monday morning, wondering how it suddenly became the 9th of September 1957.”

Me: “I’ll be telling everyone who voted for The Lizard King that this is what they wanted so they shouldn’t complain.” [Editor’s note: And perhaps you could slap them at the same time.]

My brain: “You won’t be allowed to do that.”

Me: “Why not?”

My brain: “Because women are for sex appeal only and will not be permitted an opinion in the Kingdom of The Reptile King.”

Me: “So, we’re all fucked.”

My brain: “Yep.”

Me: “Pass the Shiraz … “

Michaela C tries to make coffee spurt out your nose over at Five Frogs on a Blog and is deeply disturbed. She’s also worried about the Australian political landscape. You can follow Michaela on Twitter and on Facebook.