Thursday, August 25, 2016

Lou Wants Lemons

I woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep. It's the trouble with going to bed early. Sam always wants to go to bed early, 10pm and I can see him looking at his watch. It is why I call him Nan. So, I went walking at 6am, just as the sun was coming up. I was just going out to take some sunrise shots, but somehow I kept walking. It rained. It had already started raining, as I was leaving, but I thought, hoped, it would stop. It got heavier. I pulled my hoodie over my head, to keep my headphones dry, more so than anything else.

By the time I got home, it had stopped. And I was freezing. I stood in front of the fire in the lounge. I’d lit it when I first got up. Buddy licked the sweat off my legs. I always wear shorts whenever I go walking, whatever the weather. It tickled, Buddy’s tongue. The walking always warms me up.

I was just drying my hair with a towel when there was a knock at the back door, more of a rattle of the door handle than a knock, it was my neighbour Lou. Loopy Lou. Oh, I shouldn’t say that, I am an awful person. She has a heart of gold. She means well. But, she calls herself Loopy Lou.

“You been walking in the rain, again?”

“Again?” I asked. “Yeah, well, gotta do what ya gotta do.”

“It will lead to no good,” said Lou. “I’ve told you before. Pneumonia and death quickly after.”

“And I was thinking it sounded romantic…”

“It is a recipe for sickness and death…”

“Good morning to you too, Lou.”

“And a jolly good morning it is too.”

“I’ve got to keep it all trim,” I said. “I never know when I’m gonna catch sight of it.” I smiled for Lou’s benefit. “In a shop window.”

“Meditation,” said Lou. “I’ve told you before. Too much emphasis on,” she looked at my crotch, “ya thing…”

“Lou!” I laughed.

“Empty vessel, Chriso boy, empty vessel. You just end up chasing it around and your never ending wants leave you unfulfilled.” Lou’s right eye ticked, like she was winking at me. “Ends up driving you nuts. Driving you nuts, Christian.” She ticked uncontrollably for a few seconds.

She somehow had the wrong idea of me, something that was maybe true sometime in my inglorious past. “Walking is my meditation…”

“False god, Christian my boy, false god.” She pointed at the ceiling rocking her hand as if to some beat.

“It is when I relax…”

Lou held her hands out in front of her like she was holding the entire world in her hands. “You think,” emphasis on the think, as she pulled the world towards herself, “you are relaxing, Christian, but you’re not…

“But, I am…”

“No Christian, no Christian. No. Christian. No! You are still feeding your ego. You are doing it all for the wrong reasons. Vanity is never going to lead you to nirvana.”

“The wrong reasons?” I pretty much knew what the answer to this was, why I asked I don’t know.

“You want to be discovering inner peace, not outward beauty.” Lou’s shoulder rotated quite unexpectedly. Her fingers twitched. “Inner peace, Christian, not outward beauty.” She flattened her palms and slid them threw the air in front of her, out to each side. “Sanctuary is inside everyone of us.” She grabbed her chest. “We just have to take the time to look for it.”

There was a strange frozen moment where Lou continued to grab her chest, making big eyes, but she glazed over as though she was remembering some long forgotten memory.

“Would you like a coffee, Lou?”

She returned to behind of her ‘big eyes,’ as though the puppeteer had taken up the strings again. “The devils brew, Christian, the dev…il’s…brew.” She nodded her head on each syllable.

“Well, I was just about to have one.”

“Lemons,” Lou suddenly said. “I want lemons. I came in for lemons. Do you have lemons?”

I glanced over at the fruit bowl to see a number of the yellow fruit hiding amongst the mandarins. I swept my hand through the air in a big gesture. “Help yourself.”

“You are a prince, Christian, a prince,” said Lou. “What would I do without you?”

“What would I do without you, Lou?”

She stepped with one foot, and kind of slid the other one behind the first, like an awkward Tango, right up next to me. “You are not moving, are you Christian?” she asked almost conspiratorially.

“No,” I said, dropping my voice in mock fear that someone else might hear me. “What have you heard?”

Lou pulled back. “Nothing,” she said, as if she’d suddenly come to her senses, as if my words were accusatory.

“Good, because… I’m… not,” I tried to say with a slightly mysterious air.

“You wouldn’t move on me,” Lou glanced in either direction of the room, left and right, “would you Christian?”

“No plans to, Lou.” I looked one way in the room. “No plans to.” I looked in the other direction.

She glanced around, then looked back at me. “Good.” She looked at the fruit bowl and talked while still gazing at it. “I’m not sure if I could cope if you moved, Christian. Gordon and Joe and Douglas moved.” She looked at me. “You still banging that boy?”

I’m sure I opened and closed my mouth in surprise. “Um… Douglas?”

“Douglas.”

“No,” I said. I shook my head. “Not for a long time.”

“Not Rob and Sally, either.” Lou reached out to the fruit bowl and picked out three lemons, one by one. “Rob and Sally aren’t moving, are they?” Lou smelt the lemons.

“Not that I know of, Lou,” I said. “What have you heard?”

“I don’t want Rob and Sally to move either,” said Lou. “Um, er, I haven’t heard anything.”


I can’t wait for summer to see Rob in those small running shorts, his thick, hairy thighs are a sight to behold.

“I haven’t heard anything about them moving.”

Sally tells me how big her husband, Rob’s dick is and how much she likes it

"If you don't want me to picture your husbands cock, stop talking about it," I said to Sally.

"I don't mind you picturing Rob's cock," said Sally. "It is worth picturing. I'd get him to show it to you, if I thought he would." She shook her head. "But I don't think he would."

“Men,” I said.


Sally made big eyes and smiled.

Rob is allowed to fuck other girl's, but the deal is if he does Sally will fuck other guys and Rob couldn't handle Sall
y fucking other guys, so he doesn't.

"I don't see the big deal," said Sally. "It is just his cock, it isn't his heart or his head for Christ sake. I don’t want to fuck anyone else, anyway.”



Lou had investigated the lemons as we spoke and she put one of them back in the fruit bowl and chose another. She looked at me. She grimaced. “It had a blemish, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Whatever lemons you like, Lou.”

“You’re kind, Christian, very kind,” said Lou. “You will always be alright because you are kind.”

“Thanks, Lou.”

“Gotta go. I’ll find that mediation book, for beginners,” she laughed. She took hold of the back door knob. “For dummies.” She cackled. She disappeared through the door. I turned towards the coffee machine and pushed the button to turn it on.

“Ah Christian…”

I turned to see Lou in the doorway again. “I didn’t mean you were a dummy, Christian. I didn’t mean that at all.”

The coffee machine whirred. “No problem, Lou.”

“You’re not a dummy, Christian.” She smiled. She twitched. Then she was gone.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Nice piece of arse. This guy had. I followed him down Elgin a bit mesmerised by the way he filled his jeans. Like a puppy being lead along by a choice cut of meat, or a kid in a shop shown candy. The sun shone, the sky was blue. I didn't want to be any where but here. Maybe I'm a fool? But it is what you know, ain't that the truth. I'm not proud. Just trying to get fit, in the fresh air, around the block. I spend too many hours in doors, so what ever gets you out, is worth more... a second look. Score. Pull your tongue in, don't drool.

Old man's car. Orange Lamborghini. There was a really old man behind the wheel, with Einstein hair. They are old men's cars, as only old men can afford them. Orange Lamborghini. Good times in Elgin Street. Dragging off the young guys, in a cloud of V12 exhaust smoke magic. Growl! Everyone sees you coming, everyone can hear you go.


Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Quince Cake and Coffee

I went to Rachel's for lunch and we ate upside down quince cake and drank coffee. It was lovely, too. It rained a bit, I love the rain, its tinkly sprinkly kind of wetting of everything. Drip, drip, drip, did the garden. On the deck we both stood as I smoked a cigarette under the eaves avoiding the rain drops. The sky grey, in an over cast day.

Rachel was waiting for a builder to arrive to look at the leaking shower in her en suite. The builder and I were supposed to arrive at the same time. Of course, the builder never showed up.

Rachel told me how my childhood sweetheart, ex girlfriend, Leah, is in town and how she'd wanted to stay with Rachel, but Rachel's kids don't like her. Rachel's daughter was listening and she said, "I guess that is awful."

"No, not awful," I said. "I don't like her either." I haven't spoken to her in 6 years, she is just too much hard work. I reckon she will eventually be diagnosed with some kind of mental disorder, her personality is so out of whack, and she'll be put in a home at a young age.

"Good to have kids to get you out of these situations," said Rachel.

It is kind of sad, as we were all teenage friends together, but Leah moved to Sydney and picked up the worst Sydneysider traits and that is she is so self-focusesd that she is totally blind, or doesn't care, about the effect she has on the people around her. None of the old group of friends like her any more, and she has no idea.

Rachel and I just shrugged, referring to Leah, as I left. "Oh well," I said.

"Whatever," said Rachel.

"We don't have to be friends just for the sake of it," I said. "She is a fucking nightmare, I can't be bothered..."

"Me either," said Rachel. "Life is too short..."

"If the only thing you have left is sentiment," I said. "Other than that all I got from her was pain and criticism."

"Lucky we're perfect," said Rachel.

"So lucky," I said.

We giggled  conspiritualy, kissed, kiss, kiss, and I left.

Monday, August 22, 2016

I Don't Want To Be a Girl

I had a dream that I'd had a sex change. I was feeling my crotch and I could feel that my balls were gone. Oddly, and I'm not sure what this says, I was walking down a supermarket isle at the time.

But, I don't want to be a girl, I said to myself. I don't want to be a girl. I don't want to be a girl. I don't want to be a girl. And I woke up with a start. It was 6am. The light was just starting to seep into the bedroom. Sam was snoring, as he does.

It was just a dream, I told myself. What do you think that means? I thought, as I lay in bed, in the warmth under the covers and tried to make sense of it.

And then the first thing that came up in my Facebook feed this morning was, 9 dream symbols you shouldn't ignore. Good thing I don't believe such stuff as having a sex change wasn't one of the 9 symbols not to be ignored.

Funny the things you dream, hey?

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Cranky Noona

We headed to the Preston Market in the morning. The traffic was quite heavy, which is nothing unusual now a days.  I wondered how long it will be before Melbourne stops winning the most liveable city in the world, is it, due to its traffic congestion, due to the over supply of apartments? (Of course, my cynical side wonders if we are just the country that pays the most money to the deciding board?)

We pulled into the market car park and waited in one of the parking isles for a car spot. That is what I always do at the Preston Market, just pick a spot and wait and eventually a car right near you leaves.  No fighting. No arguments. I had inadvertently turned the wrong way into the isle, against the arrow. I waited for somebody to complain, but they didn’t, as people turn the wrong way into these lanes all the time. The cars seemed to be leaving the car parks at the other end of the isle, one by one, but none were leaving our end of the isle. So we waited. The cars coming from the correct direction cleared several times and once, or twice, there were no cars coming from the other direction. 

Then a man finally came and got into a white Subaru right next to us. I put on my blinker and waited for him to leave. By this time a beige Laser had entered the isle from the other direction and was waiting at the far end. When I put my blinker on, she did too. She drove up close to the car spot. The Subaru backed out and turned in our direction, which was going to make it harder, than it otherwise would have been, to drive into the car spot. Missy Laser drove forward, I drove forward, the Subaru drove away. Missy Laser was determined and so was I, she had the advantage, but even if I couldn’t get in, I was determined that Missy Laser wasn’t getting in either. I drove forward in front of Missy Laser and she gave in pretty quickly. 

She was an Italian Noona and she was shrieking something out her window. We parked. She remained stopped in the isle just behind us. I walked over to her window to offer her some words of advise. She was a barrel of a woman sitting behind the steering wheel just slightly off skew due to her bulk. She was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, which, I would say, was from anger, rather than fear. She had various baubles and beads hanging from her rear vision mirror.

“I have been waiting for 15 minutes, you have only been here…”

“You were coming the wronga way…”

“I was here for a long time, at least 15 minutes.”

“It’s a nota your car park, you come the wronga way…” she shrieked.

“I have been waiting here patiently.”

“You pusha in! You taka my car park…”

“No, no I didn’t.”

“You have to gotta geta in the lane’a and a waita with everyone else.”

“No I don't," I said. "Besides, there was no line from your direction for some of the time.” I pointed to the far end of the lane from where she'd come.

“Vat you did is illegal! Its illegal!” she shrieked.

“Show me the rules that say that.”


"Oiy?"

"Show me the rules?" This was a stretch, I knew that.

“I’ll calla the police.”

“Call them,” I said. “Do you want me to call them?” I acted as if I was reaching into my pocket for my phone.

“You steala my car park.”

“I was here long before you…”

“You are wronga, it is my car park, YOU STEALA MY CAR PARK!” She was beginning to froth at the corner of her mouth.

“Ah, notit is not.” And at that point I walked away. She was still shrieking out her driver’s side window.

I should have said, “I bet you have cute grandsons,” but, of course, I didn’t. That would have shut her up… or lead to a round of homophobic shrieks, quite possibly.

We bought tattsLotto tickets. I told the nice ladies in the tattsLotto shop.

“She said it was because I’d driven the wrong way up the parking isle?”

“No, people do that all the time,” they said. “That is ridiculous.”

“I’m shaking,” I said. “Why am I such a wimp?”

“No,” said the nice ladies behind the counter. “It is not nice when people yell at you.”

I bought cigarettes as I was shaking from the run in with Noona. Sam wasn’t pleased about that.


Friday, August 19, 2016

Down Smith Street


I headed down the street to get a new packet of cigarettes, even after I swore that the last cigarette from my last packet was my last. I followed a guy back up Smith Street, who had a great arse. Dark blue jeans, a maroon woollen jumper and a checked shirt with the rear shirt tail hanging out as if to frame his sexy, beefy arse. You know those arses that are solid and square that compliment the curve of his hips. He had dark, thick hair cut short and olive skin. He would have been in his late thirties, probably Italian, or something like that. I would have crossed the road, but his butt kept me on the same side as him following him down the street. 

Halfway down the street, for some reason, he realised his shirttail was hanging out and he tucked it in with his fingertips and I got to see his dark green undies, with thick, brand elastic. Once I’d seen the green, cotton material of his undies, I could picture it hugging his arse cheeks. He’d have had a hairy arse crack. He’d probably had that hairy patch on his lower back just above his arse, where his arse hair would fade away to nothing. 

I felt a buzz in my stomach, a certain flutter in my sensibilities, I have to say. Grrrrr! I wondered what he’d think about me perving on him. An evolved male would just think of it as a compliment. I wondered if he was an evolved male?