Saturday, March 25, 2017

A house in the suburbs

Friday, March 24, 2017

Terrorist Attacks

We continue to call these criminals terrorists and their acts terrorist attacks, because the general community with accept such labels, and not blame the politicians, rather they are more likely to praise the politician’s for trying to protect us, but really, aren’t these perpetrators the “them” fighting back against the “us” in the increasingly unjust and inequitable world our politics is creating.

It is our politics that is causing terrorism, not extremism. Extremism is the result, not the cause.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

I Got To Feel His Arse, So It Wasn’t All Bad

Yesterday, morning my alarm went off at 6am. I didn't get to sleep until after midnight. I wondered if I was going to be tired today?

I woke up to rain. Wet and cold. It was grey outside, as I stood at my balcony doors and peered out, a door in each hand, open to the day.

The only question on my lips was, long-sleeved shirt, or short-sleeved shirt? How humid was it? I slid a bare arm out into the day, but I couldn't tell. I'd prefer to be cold than hot, but there were limits to how cold I wanted to feel.

I wore my blue and white striped long-sleeved shirt, the first long-sleeved shirt I have worn in weeks, the only long-sleeved shirt I have worn in weeks, and only the third long-sleeved shirt I have worn to work since I began in December.

Mikki Howard sang the songs of Billie Holiday, that was the music that got me off and walking, this morning in the rain.

The rain fell in a fine mist, it never let up. And by the time I got to Albert Street, I was sick of it sprinkling in my eyes and covering my shirt and making it damp. A B-Class was the first tram to appear around the corner, followed by another old B-Class. A chock a block full B-Class. Oh? Damn! Risking a fine and all, as we were three stops from the free zone. Still, less likely to get caught in a tram stuffed full of people than an empty one, it was just logical, I hoped.

I was going to sweat in that old tram being so full of people, I knew that. As we all know, I have a low threshold to heat and sweating. I needed to stand by the door, which I did, just inside the front door, so that way, at least I got the fresh air when the doors opened at each stop.

The fat Asian girl – am I allowed to say that? I’m allowed to think it, surely? Is that fat shaming by thought? You know, because I am writing my thoughts down? I don’t know. She was fat – with headphones stood next to me, with her Kindle and her kind face.

She gave me a look, when I waved her back into the tram first, after we'd both got out at the next stop to let other passengers off. I think we both had the same idea, fresh air by the door. She smiled as she turned and got back on. She didn't seem to mind.

A bit later, when a woman insisted on squeezing into the tram in the middle doors and they wouldn't close and the tram wouldn't go and we all got held up while we waited for her to sort her shit, I said, "Get off you idiot," accidently, out loud, by mistake, oops, the fat Asian girl smiled again. (Gotta be careful with headphones in)

I stood to the side and let people through, but I was staying by the door, the tram was a sauna. People are weird, they look at you as if you are the lowest of the low for not moving out of their way to give them room, to allow them in, even if they don’t really know where they are going. No, you just won't fit, the tram is full, I thought. Still they push in.

A beautiful girl, with long blond hair, got on with a coffee when she really wouldn't fit. But she was determined. She would have been the Home Coming Queen. She would have swallowed the Prom King’s cum in the carpark in the front seat of his Commodore at the year 12 formal, for sure. She’d have tried to hide the stains on her cashmere cardigan from her mother by having it dry-cleaned. The fat Asian girl and I looked at one another. After blondie had squeezed in, and the fat Asian girl had to give some room, Blondie gave a coy look around to see what the looks on our faces were. Were we scowling at her? She smiled sweetly at me, in the crush. She got her place in the tram, the beautiful girl always got her place.

And then another girl, with red hair and exposed cleavage, pushed her way in, like her tits into that bra that was two sizes too small, there really wasn’t any room. She would have fucked the lead singer and the drummer of the band high on E in share houses in Brunswick. She had to do a run up and down the stairs to allow the door to close and open again.

And then at the next stop, Nazeem Hussain got in, not that blondie, or Red, or I, for that matter, gave any room. The fat Asian girl had shuffled further inside by this stage, her battle for the door was lost. Well, he looked like Nazeem Hussain. He was as cute as Nazeem Hussain. Crisp white shirt, high collar, red patterned tie, tight fitting blue suit. He kind of clung to the wall like Spider Man, or a gecko, there was so little room for him.

Still I got to feel his arse, so it wasn’t all bad.

He could only balance on one foot, half up the front wall. And by this stage I was pushed right up against the front wall, my hands down by my sides holding the hand rail. I literally had a size nine and a half shoe length from the front wall in which to balance. If I’d lost my balance and fallen forward, I would have gone face first into Red’s tits, so I hung onto the hand rail at each side, level with my hips. Nazeem had to push in backwards to avoid the door as it closed, he and Red kind of shared the front step of that old tram. And whether he knew it, or not, his arse was exactly the same level as my right hand, which he pushed up against. I could feel the peachy curve of his cheeks, the tight woollen material following the contour of his curvy behind slide along my fingers. Nice and tight and firm it felt too. My fingers slid into his indentation, up his crack, if you like, like the fine curve of a porcelain bowl, quite easily. He was curvaceous and warm. He felt like he did squats, he was hard to the touch.

I did nothing, I swear. I didn't move a muscle, not a whit. Trams just get crowded in the mornings, and sometimes you can't help these things, I swear. Okay, I didn't move my hand, you may have me there, but where was I moving it to, I ask you? We were packed in like sardines. It is simply the cost of free travel in the CBD in the mornings. We were jam packed in, it was really hard to move, and sometimes you can get your arse felt up.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Dinner

Dinner, I had to get my own. Sam was working in Brisbane, I was on my own. I had Bud, so I was not really on my own. Milo too, of course. I didn't feel like cooking, the weather had been hot and then cold, I wanted something cold and easy. 
Sam was horrified when I showed him the picture.
"What is that pink stuff?"
"Salmon."
"From a can?"
"Yes."
"Is that the best you could do?" asked Sam. "Food from a can?"
"Yes," I said. "It is good for you."
"Well done," said Sam. "Bravo."
"It's healthy."
"Fresh food is healthy," said Sam.

I thought it was nice. Dolmades, antipasto, cous cous, corn, salmon. I had an avocado too. I threw it together without much thought, I didn't know what I was going to get when I went to Coles. liked it.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Personal Space

A woman got into the lift at the last minute, as the doors slid closed, and stood right in front of me, crowding me, invading my personal space without a care. I was, seemingly, so insignificant standing there, that she practically speared my feet with her stilettos as she inhabited the lift. I knew the type, lost in her schedule on her phone, I have worked in corporate long enough to recognise her.

It has been hot and muggy in Melbourne these last few days and she had on a strap dress, cream with a green floral pattern, with a large amount of her shoulder skin bare to the world. So, I imagined myself as a stranger, a deranged shadow in a deserted street, a threat lurking just out of sight. I breathed heavily out of my nose, and since she was standing so close to me, my exhaled breath couldn't help but flow out onto her bare skin.

First, she swatted whatever it was away with her hand, absentmindedly, like one might with a fly. I continued to breathed out onto her skin and she suddenly moved away from me, turning to look at me, as though something evil had touched her skin. I kept a straight face, staring straight ahead, but I could see she was unsettled, unnerved somewhat. Well, that will teach you to show no consideration for other people, I thought, may you take that from this, consideration, but I doubted it somehow. Too busy, I knew the story. Too important. She had moved away from me, however, so job done, I thought.


Monday, March 20, 2017

I don't really like the music from her new album, I don't mind Hello, the opening track. So there was a group of songs near the beginning with which I was bored, but the rest was great. Her voice is fantastic, there is no argument.
We went to see Adele last night, like half of Melbourne. We had good seats. We got there early, as advised. Not exactly sure why, as many people sitting near us got there after the start time. She started half an hour late. The seating was confusing, many people sat in the wrong seats. Many people sitting around us got up and moved after sitting by us for some time.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Shopping in Myer yesterday. I wanted to grab a microphone and break into a rendition of Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love.
Sam bought those new Apple wireless earbuds. $220. Sam was clearly keen for me to buy a pair too, as he just kept asking me and asking me and asking me. Ah! "No, for $220, I'm happy with my corded head phones." 
But he kept asking. Grrr!
"Are you sure you don't want them?"
"Quite sure."
"Are you really sure?"
"Really sure."
"Really?"
"Yes."