Bringing Fred Segal to the masses

This is the story of a man with vision, a man with a dream, a man with a few brushed cotton Fred Segal t-shirts. Yes, it's true.  David has come through like a whirwind in a Huli wig, en route to Law and Justice (a Warner Bros donation to PNG). Here to free special people from nasty contracts of adhesion, experience the wondrous infinity of torts, and life unfettered from copyright protections. A brave move, we agree. He joined us in the Karawari caves project, where our team already includes Stan Laurel, also thanks to WB, and where Edmundo broke out the Chivas and Dom rustled up muruk eggs for breakfast. This is where he introduced aspiring young Inyai would-be models to the idea of 'working it' for the camera. Then, as with all men of purpose, he flew out to Tari to see wigmen in heavy makeup, some carrying dolls. Afterwards we were stranded in Port Moresby, many thanks to Air Niugini. On line waiting to get our accommodation vouchers behind the thoroughly indisposed Ramu Nickel Chinese, who seemed to be gobbling up all the best rooms in town, the idea came to us of painting the bonnet of the car as a flag of Tibet. Free Tibet. Free the Ramu. Free lunch. Our also-inconvenienced friends Andrew and Sister Martha (who sports the skull and bones rucksack here) thoroughly agreed. Eventually we made our way to Madang and had  a lovely day at Pig Island snorkeling and not catching fish. Evidence herewith. Along with a suggestion for sore throats, the image of Baby Nancy as a wise man in a fez, and a recent ad from the Post-Courier for an opening at the US embassy in Port Moresby (CV required). All this in the face of a new report on the state of PNG's forests that pretty much tells us to forget carbon trading, we've logged out  30% of our forests so far (or since the Barnett Report) and they're now shrinking at the same rate as Brazil's (still no comment from the PM, reports the Guardian, 'whose family is deeply nvolved in the timber industry.' !)  Dashing all our conservation hopes: a little like hearing Mom and Pop have gambled the tuition money.

What a fookin liberty!