Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Manny's Got a Cold and I feel Fat and Spotty and Off-kilter

Morning Miss,

How are you this lovely day?

Hope yr enjoying that salad!

Any plans for Easter at this stage?

xTom


The salad? Bugger! I looked at it a few times last night and thought I should eat it.

But I got so depressed last night. I remember that was what happened at the two week mark last time I gave up smoking. Last night, I felt fat and spotty and off-kilter, as I have since I stopped smoking... I just want to feel normal again. Of course, I met up with twif at the wedding after party, Sunday night, as I gazed into Stevens eyes... and it's sad to say, but true, I went to the shop and bought some cigarettes and after four I felt normal again, as I watched Q.A.F.

I don't suppose you watched, This is your Life sports heroes special? And happened to see Lou Richard's mother. That cheered me up and gave me a good laugh – I tried to write an email to Jon, since the demanding little minx demanded one, but my thought processes are shattered at the moment, so I watched teev instead.

Over Easter, I'm going to lock myself away and start and complete, I wish, get hugely through my two major assignments. And I'm going to write my short stories and I'm gonna "do" the Greek boy.

No chocolate, though!

christian


Let me know if there's bed moving action happening

see ya

Tom


No, that's the week after Easter. Actually, the week after that. 19/04 to 23/04

christian


My boy Manny has a bad snuffed up nose. Sniff, sniff, sniff, he went as I talked to him last night.

He says he has never had the flu before in his life. How's that?

christian


He’s got a Greek memory remember

Tom


Well, hello

He came and had lunch with me. Well, I ate, he watched.

christian


the poor love...

cant be that sick tho, if he can come into town...

email for u at home

Tom ☺


In his jumbo cords.

Big smile

christian


That bed shifting weekend then is the weekend after the next one? My sister is getting married on the Friday, but I could help on the Saturday...

Did you have a good day?

I did. Did another of those videotaped counselling sessions my social work dept seems to love so much, and also learned all about the 70 day placements we are to do next semester.

I hope I get a good one!

xTom


I have been busy, although doing what, I cannot say. Every time I look around it's fucking Friday. Zip, whoosh, splat. And the weekend is nothing but a grinch on the ye olde time line. Sat, Sun, what? (Head spin) (And green vomit) (No, never green vomit)

I'm good.

The cats going senile though.

I think I am too.

He's having trouble with constipation. That's the cat and not me. On his last legs, poor babe. But he could be pushing 20, so it's to be expected.

Just by the way...

Big smile... she'll be right, mate!

Big smile, a suntan as wide as the beach is long. Toothy grin, laid back to Freemantle. The wind, the sun, the blue, blue skies and a multi cultural cauldron of ethnic beforeskined cockney'd'esque slang to lean on and hold as dear as mother's childhood sandwiches.

Have a pot, mate. Don't you worry about that. A chance meeting of eyes across the bar. A saunter, a smile and a come hither look. Raised eyebrows, a wink a nod and... G'day.

I've given up smoking, how am I feeling, ER! AHHHHHHH! Whimper, whimper. WHEN WILL THIS FEELING EVER STOP? – just fine, doll. Never better. I've locked myself away for the weekend, to keep myself away from smokers and sweeties, chocolates and cakes, etc. I reckon if I get through this first bit without too much food substitution, I should be able to get back to feeling my old self and back to my normal diet, quick as. Snippety snap.

I don't want to turn into a boombah, otherwise I'll start again.

And I can feel it in my chest now a days, it's killing me and I need to stop before it actually does. Five people die each day in Victoria from lung cancer. And lets face it, I've already given it a huge fucking nudge thus far. It's time for what I put in my body to equal the purity of my thoughts. (Oh, ah, I'm a gonna if I settle for that bench mark) Fresh as mountain spring water, just the pure droplets of fresh dew entering my mouth, we'll worry about the thoughts later.

Living alone is grand, although I've got constant mortgage worries. I don't know, I should just shut up and get a few people in. But, I like living on my own. But having said that, I have a new flatty moving in in a few weeks. A girl named Aby, who is studying at the VCA, movie making. She wants me and her to collaborate on a film. I write the blessed thing and she sets about making it. But, I'm having a non-believing in myself, writing wise, it's all useless, you never get any where, it's just an illusion, buggery bugger, get back to work and stick at yer real job, ya whacker. Nothing will ever come of this.

Actually, Mark and Luke just called and I'm off out to dinner. So, I'll get back to you. No, none of that language. I'll be back soon. I WILL finish it.

Some time later.... we ate Chinese, out with very successful friends. So easy for some, hey. I wish it was easy. Whatever my easy is?

I'm feeling a bit in a rut-like. I don't know. But, I suppose having creative people, er, person around can't hurt, hey?

I keep jumping from one thing to another and none of my writing seems to be amounting to much. I must have a descending moon, or something, at the moment. Why would this story be told? Who would I be telling it to? Original buggery voice. Oh, I don't know. Another cigarette, perhaps?

But my good writing buddy Kym and I had a chat about it and I've decided to go back to basics and write a few short stories and enter a few competitions.

Well, that's the theory anyway.

So there you go. It all seems hard.

Manny wanted me to go around tonight to do dirty things to him, he had his sexy voice on when he called, but I said no siree Bob, not with your excess mucus. I know enough not to get a boy with a cold going down on my cock. Oo, a spittoon, for sure. But other than that, he's good. Still a sexy boy. I feel such a physical connection with him, even if I don't feel a mental one. But is that just wanting the perfect boy. Do we ever get that? Or is that just pie in the sky stuff? I don't know. Do we ever get the whole package, or is that just what happens in movies?

Mark and Luke leave for London/Amsterdam/Paris/Rome on Thursday and being the good er... whatever I am, I'm driving them to the airport. People have questioned me about why I'm not going and really, I can't afford it. Don't know why I'm perpetually broke all the time, but I am. They'll be gone for eight weeks, so I'm planning to get myself in to some sort of routine during that time. I'm going to go jogging and ride my bike on the weekends and stop smoking and be fit and gorgeous. I'm going to get some writing done and... go out and have fun.

I haven't seen G at all. He's been doing real-estate things and changing jobs and I've been kind of avoiding him because of my non-dope smoking thing. But I must go and see him over Easter, if he's about. Get him to pull his fat cock out of them bitches long enough.

I'm going to take a week off after Easter to sand and polish my floors. Finally. I figured now is the time, now that I'm here alone. I can easily move every thing off the second floor... and it can't be that hard, surely. I kind of feel a little defeated before I start, if I think too much about it. But its just a matter of hiring a sander and whipping over them old boards with it and then slopping some sealer type stuff. How hard can it be? I'm good at those kinds of things when I get going. Me old dad taught me lots of that stuff, which kind of surprise people...but really, I'm talking about queens with screw drivers, so I'm way above that bench mark.

I retrieved my Aretha Franklin box set from Bolago, so musically I'm sorted.

I might even get some pot for Easter, instead of chocolate eggs. Of course, my dealer has packed it in, which could be a little awkward, but if I can't find a dope dealer in Fitzroy, there must be something wrong.

I better get me self to the iron, in readiness for the salt mines tomorrow. Iron shirt, wash shirt. Smile at them worker ants as I scurry to the working burrow, with them. It's sad to think that they all take it so seriously, think they are actually doing something important. Funny the old working week, when you think about it. Think of all that beauty that we all miss in the pursuit of earning a buck. But those young lawyers in suits, now there's some beauty.

Smiling all the way...


And the friends who got married on Sunday. I hear it was fun and games after I left. Unbelievable. Apparently, Rob completely lost it at Loli. He was really drunk and asked Loli for an annulment. It was really bad, say all those who were still there.

Wogs are nothing if not dramatic.

And they sorted it out.


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