Hardened journos wilt

JOURNALISTS don't always feel particularly beloved as a profession. This is even more the case when they're camped outside the headquarters of one of their targets.

JOURNALISTS don't always feel particularly beloved as a profession. This is even more the case when they're camped outside the headquarters of one of their targets.

So imagine the surprise when, after huddling for hours in the cold outside Cronulla Sharks Club while NRL boss David Gallop talked with the club's board, hacks were greeted with the sight of an older man emerging from the club to dole out pies and sausage rolls. Before the surprise had worn off, the man returned with toasted sandwiches and then pizza. Says Strewth's man on the ground Ray Gatt: "He said he felt sorry for us having to wait so long and apologised. We thanked him, and told him to pass on thanks to the club. He then told us the club had nothing to do with it. Turns out his name is Wayne and he is a member of the club and felt sorry for the media. He paid for the pies, sausage rolls and sandwiches out of his own pocket but explained that when other club members saw what he was doing, several pitched in to shout the pizza."

Weed deed, indeed

IN Estimates on Monday, independent senator Nick Xenophon was questioning the Department of Parliamentary Services Offices about the multiple relocations of the florist in Parliament House and the increases in rent she faced. After some time at this line of questioning, Liberal senator Michael Ronaldson leaned over to Xenophon and in a deafening stage whisper said, "Nick, you don't send me flowers any more." So yesterday, what should turn up at Ronaldson's office but a lovely, crepe-wrapped bouquet of weeds, courtesy of Xenophon and the PH florist, Tracey. Said Ronaldson: "For a guy who hasn't received flowers in the past 40 years, even a bunch of weeds is a pretty big deal."

Just the greatest

NOW that North Korea has set off a nuke (a blast that, curiously enough, coincided almost to the hour with the arrival on the Korean peninsula of Strewth's mother), perhaps it's time to make friends with them. Facilitating this process is the Korean Friendship Association, which explains on its website "There are only two conditions for joining: 1. You respect the Democratic People's Republic of Korea and its leaders; 2. You respect the other members in the KFA and the goals of the KFA." If you need further help, here's a handy example from the Korean Central News Agency: "Kembo Campbell Dugishmohadi, head of the Zimbabwean government delegation who visited the DPRK, praised President Kim Il Sung as the greatest man in the world."

Kevin as art a feat of clay

THE brouhaha over Bill Henson - not least Kevin Rudd's outraged reaction to his photographic art - has been given another incarnation by artist Alasdair Macintyre. His 3D work Signifier/Signified - just one that will be on display from June 2 at the Sullivan + Strumpf Fine Art gallery in Sydney's Paddington - stars a polymer clay version of a splendidly peevish-looking Rudd and a strategically placed Kevin07 sticker. There's also a very nice one involving some green-thumbed Cybermen, but that's getting off topic.

How could she ...

ONE of Strewth's wireless-loving agents is having heart palpitations after listening to 702 ABC yesterday morning. During an interview with the Chaser's Dominic Knight - who, like Strewth, wasn't taught grammar at school - host Deborah Cameron likened grammar to spelling, arguing that too much fuss was made of spelling, and that if a sentence wasn't spelled correctly, it could still be read. Say it ain't so, Deb. Tell us our agent was suffering an aural hallucination. Please.

Dubya's buddy Dylan

GEORGE W. Bush may have pulled off the feat of becoming even less popular after leaving the White House, but he has a defender in Bob Dylan. In the present issue of Rolling Stone, the rock-poet reveals Dubya awarded him honorary citizenship of Texas in 2000. "George Bush, when he was governor, gave me a proclamation that says I'm an honorary Texan," says Dylan, who turned 68 last week: "As if anybody needed proof." Invited to heap bile on Bush as a result of the global financial meltdown, Dylan replied: "None of us really knew what was happening in the economy. It changed so quickly into a true nightmare of horror. As far as blaming the last president, think of it this way: the same folks who held him in such high regard came to despise him. People are fickle."

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