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Yo, Johnno, you there?

Damn, Sydney is a stunning city - if you are lucky enough to get a peek of the water.

This old codger left his home town decades ago, but on every return journey there is a mad dash (well, okay, a sedate totter) down to the Quay and it's off to Manly.

Doesn't really matter if it is summer or winter, Sydney Harbour is just the bees' knees.

Now this time around it was a bit of a special occasion as I'd had an invite to Kirribilli House, home of our beloved Prime Monster John Howard.

Anyway, I got a card from the PM and he said George Dubya Bush had suggested calling me if ever he needed good advice. The summons said he had important matters of state to discuss with me.

So, it was off on the big-silver-bird-fly-in-sky and then a leisurely crawl through Sydney traffic in a prime-monsterial limousine.

The PM had a nice little table out in the gardens and so we plonked down and he began to natter.

He hadn't said more than two words when all of a sudden there was this blue smoke rising from his side of the table. Now I have to say I was a little shocked at the sickly sweet smell that wafted my way and thought maybe he had been sent herbal ciggies from someone.

"Hey Grump, want a doobie?"

"What?," said I, quickly checking over my shoulder for security guards.

"A doobie, damn fine things for killing pain ... so I've heard."

"(Cough) I wouldn't know John ... although some people say it has medicinal qualities. I didn't know you indulged."

"Well, I did grow up in the '60s Grump and despite the fact I looked straight-laced and god-fearing I was a demon with the grass ... dude."

Hearing this made the whole scene ultra-surreal and so - as a polite guest - I took the proferred doobie and, mumbling something about a bad back, I took a puff.

Well, bugger me, if I wasn't absolutelty rat-arsed within seconds.

"What the hell is this, Johnno? Er, Johnno ... yo, Johnno, you there?"

"Who's that? (giggle)..."

"Smee, Johnno, smee .... hey, Johnno, do you reckon you can walk?"

"Nope (huge cackle) ... I hope Pete Costello doesn't see me like this (unrestrained guffaws) ... or Bronnie Bishop (utter hilarity) ... uh oh, I think I've wet myself!"

"Hey Johnno, let's go get a ferry."

"Grump, I'm shocked. I thought you had kids?"

"What? No a Manly ferry."

"Are there any in Sydney?" Again our glorious PM burst into hysterical giggling and it would have been quite a sight if I could have seen through the waterfalls of laughter tears pouring down my cheeks.

"So, Johnno, what's the weed?"

"Shssssssh, don't tell anybody Grump, but it's Kirribilli Kactus - well that's what I tell Mrs PM anyway. I want to make it available to sick people who need to ease pain and there are no other alternatives."

"Damn good idea, Johnno, old sock, damn good. Hey maybe we can send some over to Liz in Buckingham Palace - she's a bit of an indulger. (See Harry the Hoocher)"

"Is she really? Well there you go ... that's a surprise."

"Not really, Johnno, how else do you reckon she's been able to put up with Prince Phil for so long."

Now it has to be said the rest of the day was lost to me - although I do remember Johnno saying something about wanting to declare war on North Korea - but it is good to see our PM is thinking enough about the people to share his stash.

Grumpy Old Coot has a warped view of life, check him out

If there is something that has really got up your nose, let Grumpy Old Coot know at grumpy@webwombat.com