Sunday, June 17, 2018

At The Pool

We head into the change room to change before our swim. The change room is busy, guys everywhere.

To get a locker, you are given a barcode on a piece of paper, at the front desk, which you take into the change room and you scan on a barcode reader on a screen attached to the lockers, which allows you to choose one of the lockers for which you set a temporary pin number for the time you are using it.

The wiry lifeguard with the ponytail was in the change rooms helping a rather nice looking boy with a hairy chest who had forgotten the password he set for his locker. The life guard fixes his locker and then turns to another guy who had also forgotten his password, (I’m guessing this is a common occurrence) who is standing a little way away from the lockers.

“Do you remember the number of your locker?” the wiry life guard asks the guy standing over by the basins.

“No, I can’t remember?”

“So which locker did you have?” asks the lifeguard.

“No, I don’t remember.”

“Oh, okay. What time did you get here,” asks the life guard? “I’ll look and see what lockers were taken up at that time.”

“I couldn't tell you," says the guy.

Oh, I was loving this. Mr Stupid cleared had the memory of a gold fish. He’d probably head out of the change room later and say pool, in a surprised voice, not remembering where he was.

I look at Sam. He whispers to me, “It is no concern of yours.”

“Okay,” says the life guard. “Was your locker on the top or the bottom?”

The genius shrugs.

“Okay,” says the life guard. “I’ll open a few lockers and we can look in them.”

The lifeguard opens the first locker inside which is a black backpack with red trim. The life guard says to the guy, “Is this your stuff?”

“I can’t see from over here,” says the guy.

I wanted to say, hang on just a moment, I’ll draw you a picture of the contents of the locker to see if you recognise it, or better still wait until I get my phone and I’ll take you a photo, but I don’t.

“Would you like to come over here and have a look,” says the life guard. The first moment that I hear his tone come off the cheery tone he has been using up until this point.

I’m grinning like a Cheshire Cat at Sam, by this stage. Sam gives me a nudge and gestures for us to leave the change room. I want to stay and see it out to the end, but Sam gives me his cross eyes. We proceed to leave the change room.

Einstein is gazing into the locker with an open mouth. “Um, er, I don’t think my back pack has any red on it.”


How many lockers to go, I think?

I give Sam big eyes and raise my hands in the air as if to say, Can you believe this guy? Sam pushes me, and we leave the change room.


Friday, June 15, 2018

The Returns Queue At Bunnings

I took Buddy to Bunnings to take back a pot that I had bought. We stepped up to the queue for returns. There was a (small rat-faced) guy there with all sorts of things on the counter. He was one of those people who was being very busy in one spot. Then there was me and another guy, we both got to the counter at exactly the same time, and we were each telling the other one that they could go first. As I was momentarily distracted by the 3rdguy, Buddy walked to the counter, as dogs do, and he sat down, (unfortunately) leaning against the first guy’s leg.

“Ah!” said the guy. 
He shook his leg as if to shake Buddy off. He turned to look at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

“Sorry,” I said. Okay, so that was, some may say, less than idea. I’d hate to see his reaction if something really went wrong, I thought, but whatever.

So, I stepped behind him. Then he wanted to manoeuvre a large box on the counter, but he had to step backwards to move the box and, again, Buddy and I were in the way.

“Ah! Er! UM!” He waved his hands at me, in my face.

It was an L shaped counter so Buddy and I stepped away from Little Mr Busy, to the point of the counter, diagonally into the shop floor, to give the guy space. I didn’t know that the trolley around the L-shaped corner was also his.

When he had finished (I would say OCD) arranging the items on the counter in front of him, he wanted to get the rest of his stuff from his trolley, but again, we were in the way.

“AH.” Look of death. “ERRRR!” He couldn’t easily get passed. “OHHHH!” Again, he waved his hands in my direction.

So, we got to the dreaded point where I felt I had to say something. “Hey mate,” funny how I butch it up with the word ‘mate’ on such occasions. “Are you always this grumpy, or have you just saved it all up for me today?”

He kind of groaned, but essentially, he ignored me.

Then he was finally done, and he wanted to move his trolley around so he could put all his stuff back in it.

Now, let me just say, there was the entire, empty, Bunnings foyer and then there was me and him and his trolley and the other guy who was a little further away again.

He turned and looked at me. Big eyes, as if he was willing me to move… or evaporate, or explode, or something.

Nah, I wasn’t having by this stage. Essentially, Buddy and I had been standing still the whole time and he’d had a problem with us no matter what we’d done.

“You know what, you can walk around me mate, and you can take up as much of this foyer as you please to do it.” I accompanied that with a Sale of the Century hand gesture.

Which he did, tutting as he went.

I stepped up to the counter and the first thing the nice (some may say rather cute) Bunnings man said was, “I’m sorry for all of that.”

“No problem.” I smiled.

I told the 3rdguy waiting that he could go before me, just to make it look like I was really the nice one.

Some people, I thought.

Monday, June 11, 2018

Long Weekend Gone

What did we do today? Well, Sunday is cleaning day and we missed it by going to the country, so what do you think my bossy boyfriend made us do? Sweeping, dusting, vacuuming.

No swimming today. I told Sam we should aim for every second day as we start out. He is keen to go every day. Shrug. I think we should ease into it.

Back to work tomorrow. I have to get used to the idea all over again? Suddenly, the end of a long weekend, actually, means something. I'm not sure if I like that? My favourite YouTubers have put up new content and I won't be able to recline tomorrow at, say, 9.30am with a coffee and watch them. Whose idea was this job anyway?




Sunday, June 10, 2018

Off To The Country

I was up at 6.45am, as you do on Sunday mornings. (Roll of the eyes)

We headed to Rachel’s at Mount La La, her new place in the country, for the first time. We headed out through Footscray. We went through all those suburbs that we all pretend not to know the whereabouts of, Deer Park, Caroline Springs. We turned off the Western Highway at Ballan. (It sounds like an expensive sports car, or vomiting) The scenery became picturesque, as the ground began to undulate. Suddenly it was a bit hilly and the road began to wind. Mount La La was picturesque, I could see why Rachel liked it.

Everybody I know is getting a country house.

We got there at 10.30am, and there was the green house, just like the photos, except it was grey. Rachel always thought it was blue.

Son number one, Anton, was there, as were son number two, Oliver and his friend. Rachel, of course, was there. Peter was asleep because he was just recovering from a knee reconstruction. Ned, the Rottweiler, and Buddy seemed to be fine, initially, Buddy rushing about to say hello to everyone excitedly. Ned gliding about aloofly. It didn’t last, however, it descended into biting and growling and Ned was put in the car. Not long after, Oliver and his friend left. I don’t know if it had anything to do with the dogs? Maybe. I guess.

Anton left pretty quickly too, driving off in Rachel’s convertible.

Everybody cleared out. Was it something we said?

Rachel made us an egg breakfast, with toast and avocado and coffee. Peter got up on his crutches. We chatted. I told Rachel I had a new job, she rolled her eyes. Rachel is one who doesn’t think I should be working.

We walked around the yard. The sun shone. The air was cool. The air was scented with fresh country sweetness. They have lovely views out the front stretching out as far as the eye could see.

There were lots of dogs in the neighbouring houses, the dog next door barking incessantly, which wasn’t so good.

We left at 2pm. We sailed down the highway towards home. The sun shone.

We got home at 3pm.

We were at the pool by 4.30pm and we swam laps. The life guard tonight had great legs, nice and thick, baggy shorts. He had his hair in a pony tail, even if it was short. He was handsome. He walked up and down. He was a well built boy, you could just tell he’d had a beautiful cock.

I asked him if it was always quiet on Sunday afternoon. He knelt down in front of me as he told me that other than Saturday morning and Sunday morning when there were swimming lessons and Sunday afternoon when there was aqua aerobics, starting any minute, mostly the pool was pretty quiet, as the hardcore swimmers liked the 50 metre pool up the road. I felt quite pleased with that response, as I was careful not to look at his crotch which was pointing at me. Hairy, thick thighs. I knew if I looked I’d want to slide my hand up the leg of his pants. I just knew it would be a mouthful.

The men at the pool are old and out of shape, hairy and some are simply repulsive. Those there were like society beyond the walls of gym, fat and ugly in the grip of the obesity epidemic. There were a couple of emaciated hairy ones. I’m not sure which are worse? So far, there are no fit pretty ones.

We went to Woollies. The quiet of a slow period of shopping, clear isles, empty registers. You could swing a cat and not hit anyone, but of course you wouldn’t.

We ate cauliflower soup for dinner. My job was to cook the onions and the garlic and then the potatoes and the cauliflower, then Sam takes over at the chicken stock stage. I cooked six slices of thick toast, despite Sam telling me to only cook four. I didn’t listen to him. The toast is how you eat the thick creamy soup. You don’t need a spoon when you have thick toast. Blah, blah, blah, too much bread, Sam said.

We watched Grand Designs, don’t you hate New Zealand accents, Mystery Road, I’d fuck Aaron Pedersen, Whiteley, I wish I owned some of his paintings, one of his paintings.

Saturday, June 09, 2018

We're drinking lots of coconut water. Let's hope it is, actually, good for us and that its health benefits are not just another great big corporate lie, in the long list of big business lies, to maximise profits.

We all know we can't believe big business any more.

Big Blue Banana

I was up at 7am. I let Bear out and I fed Milo. I lit a fire. Although it was a bit cool, I lit it as much for the ambience as for warmth. I wrapped a blanket around me and turned my computer on.


Bible reference – I’ve been stirring up some Christians on Facebook for my own amusement. You know what it is, Christians never give up, they never stop giving their god-delusion point of view. They never stop bleating their crap. So, where I might normally not really give too much of a rat's arse about what these people say, I decided to keep it up to them. You know how they always like to have the last word, well, I decided that I would have the last word.

The bible has been translated from ancient texts more than once, it has been edited to suit the religious leaders at various points in time and it has had many gospels removed, so it really is a flawed reference. The word of god, according to which edit? According to who? Who knows, really?



Sam got up somewhere around 9am. We drank coffee and ate banana cake that I made for David yesterday.

10.20am. I found the band Racing Cars debut album, Downtown Tonight, on iTunes, I was surprised. I played it for the first time in many years, fingers and toes? It was good to hear it again. You've got to love Apple Music.

The sun came out.

11.11am. We headed off to Clifton Hill to go swimming. Sam learning to swim breaststroke in his spare time when he went home to visit his family recently has given him a love of swimming, it would seem.

It is a 25 metre pool, which is good for me, I can’t swim 50 metres. We settled into the slow lane to do laps. I did freestyle, Sam did breaststroke. Sam did well, considering he couldn’t even swim before he went home.

There was a rather cute life guard there with a birthmark on the side of his handsome face in baggy blue shorts. He looked like he had a permanent erection in his pants, it really did, it was rather distracting. I had a look several times just trying to work out what was going on in his shorts, and I can’t really think that it was anything else other than what it looked like. And it was not insubstantial. Like a big, blue banana.

The water was warm, it made our skin feel good. It was buoyant, warm and embracing. Sam’s watch counted the laps. I think we did 30 laps, not bad for our first time.

We head to Victoria Street and ate Hoi An food.

Jill called, she is back from America and she was at her friend’s place. She wanted to know when she could come over and pick Bear up.

We did grocery shopping. At the butcher with all the marble. At plastic surgery grocery, (I tend to have nicknames for everyone) even if she wasn’t there. I sat outside Saigon Village on the plastic tables in the main walkway, like I normally do. Then I headed to Woollies to buy stuff. There was a looser chick who cut me off to get to the self serve checkouts before me, who then she fed small change into the machine, and I thought to myself, what a surprise.

We came home and took the dogs to the dog park. There was a mutt and the small white poodle, I think, called Ziggy. Both kept having a go at Buddy. One more snap at my boy, I remember thinking, and I am heading over there to have a word with the owners. I’ve got to stick up for Bud.

Jill arrived. She stayed for dinner.

Rachel sent me a photo of a Rottweiler visiting her and said we should head up to Mount La La to give it a pat. Get in the car and come now, she said. We agreed to go tomorrow for breakfast.

Jill came to pick up Bear and she stayed for dinner. Sam cooked candle nut noodles.

We went to bed at 10.30pm.


Friday, June 08, 2018

Banana Cake and stewed apple, two of my favourite things

Home For A Day

I was up at 6.50am. I cleaned up the kitchen from last night, which I clearly didn’t do, while the coffee brewed. What time did I fall asleep on the couch last night?

It was still dark, it rained a bit. I went and cleared the gutters, as I read somewhere that we are going to get a lot of rain. Of course, now a days, even the weather channel is going for ratings so you can't even believe them.

Sam cooked porridge, he served with my stewed apple.

8.45am. David called, he is home from Amsterdam for 24 hours (tomorrow he is heading to Bali) and is going to return his drag outfit from the Life Ball in Vienna, at midday.

So he was coming to visit.

I had rotten bananas to make a cake. So, I headed to the supermarket. I’d bagged up the 5 cent pieces I’d discovered in the box in our room the other day, and I fed $7 worth into the self service checkout machine without a care.

I made the cake listening to Boz Scaggs, A Fool To Care.

The cake was in the oven and the kitchen cleaned up by 11.11.

Sam arrived home and David turned up. We went to Smith Street to eat, well, Sam and I did. David went to the bank to try and short out why his credit card had stopped working in Europe. Clearly, he had eaten, as David never passes up food. He is only home for a day. He leaves for Bali at 7am tomorrow morning, on some new airline I’D NEVER HEARD OF. Molino, Moldano, or something. The cross between the Indonesian and Malaysian owners. Malindo Air, perhaps. 


"Do you think you are going to die?"

We ate banana cake and drank coffee.

David had fallen out with his 2IC on his retreats, I’m not really sure why, (he only thinks of himself and if the person he has helping him doesn’t share that same self-focused dream it doesn’t work. He falls out with them regularly) so he headed off to her place in St Kilda to sort that problem out.

Sam “worked from home” in the afternoon.


Thursday, June 07, 2018

My Week Is Done.

That is my week done. Not so bad. What was I nervous of? Three days is, actually, quite nice. It makes Thursdays magical. (fairies and dragons and trolls, under a bridge, it has it all) What is there not to like? Everybody should work three days. Lovely. 

I'm done. My week is over. I smile to myself.