Tuesday, June 30, 2009


James

I was home all day, Sunday. I got up, surprisingly, early considering what time I went to sleep Saturday night. I watched Will and Grace until 5am. It's a bad habit. Ah, the week of the non-working. Back to the grind in 4 weeks though. Ah! How quickly has a year flown? I think I’m going to ask to work Tues, Wed, Thur
David's gone to Port Douglas for two weeks. Shane’s in America, dancing at The Pride party. I had the house to myself. I brewed lots of coffee and devoured all the papers about Michael Jackson. I messed around on my computer for the rest of the day, pissing my life away, tinkering with photos. The weekend flew by, I settled into vampire hours oh so easily.
I headed out to a sex club around 11pm, wondering if I’d see James. I met James a few months ago, I think I've written about him. He was nice, but got there late. I’d done lots of walking before I hooked up with him and I wanted to leave quickly after I’d spoofed on his leg. He wanted to connect, nice chatty, but I was out that door. It wasn't until a few hours after that I thought, Hang on, he was really nice. What are you doing? Do ya wanna meet nice guys?
For whatever reason, I've thought about him ever since.
Anyway, the few times I've been back since, I've kind of had him in mind. James, James.
Last night, I signed in under Josh's name, naturally, got a lemon squash and did a circuit of upstairs. Echoes and concrete. I stopped at my usual place. I called his name a couple of times, you know, just put it out there. I laughed to myself. “James. James.” Imagine if somebody heard me, I sniggered to myself. They'd be circling their fingers around their ears.
(Of course, I’m not ever telling James that and would deny it if any future reference was ever made of it) The things one does to amuse one’s self at the sight of those long, empty hallways.
No sign of Crazy Boy, who I usually stop and chew the fat with - meant in it's traditional sense. I watched two guys fuck through a hole in the door. You know the drill? The bottom was hot. The top was fowl. You know how it goes.
I headed back downstairs for another lemon squash. I looked sideways as I took my first sip and, low and behold, there he was, James. Well, how about that, I think. I sneak another look. It is him, in person. The lovely James, right there.
I follow him upstairs. I don’t play coy, like I usually would and we end up in a cubicle in minutes. As he’s sucking my dick, I pat his hair and think, Are you my next boyfriend? I laughed to myself in the dark at that too. He’s nice to kiss. Cute face. Great smile!
He asked afterwards what nights I go out. I say it varies. Doh! He tells me what days he goes. He’s smiley. Gorgeous. Nice voice. He seems smart. I guess I know where I’ll be next week. I should have given him my phone number. But, he didn't offer me his, even though he kind of held his mobile phone out in front of me when we were talking and I thought I’d play it cool.
I know, stupid. It's when my shy gene kicks in, at the most inopportune moments.
So, there you go, James has been relocated.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Bruno


Do you really think that the character of Bruno is doing the gay cause any good? Or am I underestimating the general public?

You know, I certainly don't want to be too precious about it, but... I mean, I don't mind people making fun of gay people, as long as it's clever.
But, I didn't laugh once when he was on Rove last night, even though the audience did. It was all just tired old stereotypes, presented in a really, I want to say overly, serious way. I can see him thinking the character all the time, and not just "being" it. He's certainly no method actor, hey?
But, the G.P. just love that camp caricature, don't they, even though now I'm sure they all know it isn't true. It's like that's what they want us to be.

I guess I'll have to wait and see the movie.

Sunday, June 28, 2009


School reunion 2

I don’t know? I don’t reckon I’m going, anyway. I’m not that person any more. None of us are. It’s something that is over. It’s a kind of weird tradition, in away. If any of us had wanted to stay in contact, we would have, or we did.

School Reunion

I've got my 25 year school reunion invite. OMG! I even got a phone call, which, I guess, makes it important. I was in the shower, however, and missed the call. One of my best friends at school, David B and another guy Stephen S are organising the event. But, Stephen S called me. Why didn't David B call, was my first thought? Not that I've seen him since uni, in our twenties. Silly the things you think, hey?

Egads! Should I go?

For my 5 and 10 year reunions I was overseas both times. I was living in London at five years and I was spending six months in Italy and Greece for ten years. After that, I took it as a sign not to go to any other reunions. You know, the universe put me out of reach... removed me so I couldn't go. I haven't thought about them since, not really.

I don't know? My first thoughts about going could, perhaps, be construed as unkind. Well, not so deliberately unkind as just telling the truth.
You know, I spent 6 years with most of these guys and 8 years with quite a few of them. My boy’s school had the policy, at the time, of keeping us in the same class all the way through school and for some of us that meant we were in the same class our entire school life. We all got to know each other quite well, on camps. Parties. Turning 18. Uni. Engagements. Even if we haven't seen each other since, I'm sure a certain bond would be there.
So, when I tell them I am gay, I'm sure certain questions will be asked, which would bring me to Alex. I spent all my high school years with him.
Alex was the vice-school captain in year twelve, on the footy team, a sporty, smart, popular guy at school. I was popular too. Smart. School orchestra, school plays, musicals. He and I had an affair for the last two years of school. Private school boy lovers. Nobody knew. Hotel rooms on school excursions. Bush walking club sharing a tent on weekends away. Various places around the school. The bush walking storeroom. The public toilets at the Kew Municipal office. Alex was into it as much as me. We were daring. I'm surprised we never got caught.

After school, I went out with my girlfriend, Leah, and Alex got married. He went on to send his sons to our school, remaining active at the school because of them and popular. Everybody loved Alex.
Alex died a few years ago, my feelings about which I wrote about in this blog. Apparently, the school community was devastated. So young, blah, blah, blah. I never did find out what he died from, I would at least find that out at the reunion.

There will sure to be questions, you know, we'll all be finding out what we can of the ensuing years. I can hear them now.
So, are you married with kids?
Actually, I’m gay.
Really?
Yes.
Wow, I wouldn't have guessed that?
Would you feel more comfortable if I wore a dress?
Wow, have you always been gay?
I guess? You know, there’s that period of denial in the beginning.
But you had a girlfriend at school, that blond girl what was her name?
Yes, Leah. We went out for a number of years?
So, did you know at school?
You mean in the changing rooms with all you guys?
Embarrassed looks. Blushes. Um, er?
I think school was a part of the denial phase, you know.
So, did you do it with anyone from school?
Bingo!

Alex would die. Well, bad choice of words. He so wanted to remain the upstanding, straight, every mother’s dream son, golden-haired boy.
Even though he went on to get married, I still think that Alex was gay, just not able to come to terms with it. It was actually he who instigated our relationship. I don't know if I have romanticised it over time, but he was just like every gay boy I have ever met since. He was really keen, not just playing at it, if that makes sense. He wanted to as often as I did. He turned up with fellow student, Tom Clarke, and we had a threesome. He said he would. Did I want to? he asked me beforehand. I agreed thinking it was more talk than anything. Then he turned up with Tom. We were all nervous and not a lot happened. Oh, enough happened.
Is it fair for me to publicly out Alex when he can’t defend himself?
It’s probably true that I wouldn't out him if he was alive and was at the reunion himself.
It’s what all boys do, I hear you say. Actually, we were seventeen and eighteen when were having regular sex. We weren't kids, as such.

The problem being is that I want to do it. I guess it's not a nice think to do, but I still want to. I want to see the looks on their faces. I’m not sure why. It's kind of subversive. I think it is setting the record straight, speaking the truth. It’s allowing the real story to be told. You know, so much of the time gay encounters are clandestine, kept secret, not talked about. If every male admitted to their gay relationships/encounters the world would be a different place.

Saturday, June 27, 2009


Michael Jackson

A talented singer has a huge amount of success and makes a shit load of money, which lead to the realisation that "celebrity" was ultimately empty and a state that devours itself, which lead him into drugs. OMG! How shocking! Like that's never happened before.
And along the way a number of opportunistic parasites make false accusations against him accusing him of crimes in an attempt to extort money out of him. One group he pays off, probably as a consequence of bad advice, and the other he proves to be false in a court of law.
Why is everybody so shocked?
Or am I confusing the media with the general public again?

Feeling no pain...
Jackson was injected three times a day with potent painkiller Demerol while also receiving doses of another two painkillers Dilaudid and Vicodin.
Jackson was also taking muscle relaxant Soma, anti-depressant Zoloft, anti-anxiety drug Paxil, heartburn pill Prilosec and sedative Xanax.
The truly amazing thing here is that he could stand up at all.

Friday, June 26, 2009


Michael Jackson's former producer and friend Tarak Ben Ammar has denounced the late pop icon's doctors as "criminals" and "charlatans" who took advantage of his hypochondria.

"It's clear that the criminals in this affair are the doctors who treated him throughout his career, who destroyed his face, who gave him medicine to ease his pain."

"He was a hypochondriac and one never really knew if he was sick because he had become surrounded by charlatan doctors who were billing him thousands and thousands of dollars worth of drugs and vitamins


Thursday, June 25, 2009

Out in the Sunshine


I'd had enough of everybody yesterday; flat mates swanning off on holidays, demented mothers, tradesmen who never turn up, work even called and asked me to do a few days next week with end of financial year stuff, you know, as a favour, for god's sake! Ah! Bad to worse! So I grabbed my camera and headed out the door around lunch time. I thought I'd go take some photos of my world, rather than having to fit into everybody else's, something that I seem to be having to do more and more of late. Okay, yes, of course, I am an adult and I can set my own course, granted, but that being as it may, blah, blah, blah... you know sometimes everybody else just seems to be having all the fun and you just seem to be duty bound?
Anyway, it was a lovely day, the sun was shinning.
I like the idea of recording moments in time. I kind of like the idea of graffiti as art. I like the idea of streetscapes, the ones I get to see everyday. I like the idea of a collection of doorways. I so wanted to ask several interesting looking people if I could take their photo, but didn't quite have the nerve. Mostly because I haven't used my camera in a while and I was rusty on the functions. Read, I felt like a bit of an idiot, to start with, to tell you something.
I thought of parking myself on a planter box and photographing the passing parade. I like that idea of people captured unaware, but then I figured in this squeamish day and age, with a bogey man reputed to be around every corner, I'd need the peeps permission, otherwise it was, probably, a good way to get arrested.
As you can see, I'd make a lousy undercover operative. The guy in the picture was really cute, with a really sexy accent, as he chatted on his phone, not that that would have translated. I stalked him, just a little, and nearly got a shot of his hot arse, but just as I had it lined up he turned, probably only looking at the traffic, and I lost my nerve and you can see the result.
After that, I stuck to architecture and flora and wall art, until I wandered passed Readings and then Hares and Hyenas and a good coffee and photography was over for the day.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Classless Society

True class – when you know you are wrong, you apologise, when you know you are right, you keep your mouth shut.
We live in a truly classless society.

Give us a break

Stop advertising through other TV shows, it is too much. Way too fucken much!

And while we're at it, stop advertising through the credits. I don't mind watching the credits, it gives me time to reflect on what I've just seen.

But now a days it's just bang, bang, bang, no time to stop, no time to think. No time to scratch your arse.

TV stations, it is TOO MUCH!



Lowest Possible Benchmark

I think the reduction in speed on the Melbourne roads has resulted in a reduction in the ability of the drivers. It has effectively lowered the benchmark, so now the standard is down to the incompetent drivers who always drove at pensioner speeds. It has given every lousy driver permission to drive in their incompetent ways, unhindered. It has given every idiot permission to drive at 40 kilometres an hour, no matter what the actual speed limit is.




Britney, Britney, Britney

Britney Spears reportedly lip-syncs her entire concert. What sort of rubbish is that? And tickets are $150. I can't even bare drag queens lip-syncing now a days, let alone alleged pop stars, or would that more fittingly be pop drag queen?

Oiled Turkish Wrestlers



From One Minority Group To Another

You know, I'm all for supporting reconciliation for Aboriginals, but, how many Aboriginals would support gay marriage and gay adoption? Just sayin. It just crossed my mind.

One faces the future with one's past, jangling around ones ears like hundreds of tin cans tied to the back of the 'Just Married' getaway car.

The Passive Aggressive Problem

I have a terrible passive aggressive streak that I have to guard against all the time.

footy photo


Whoa There, Says Mr Liver

I can now drink a bottle of red wine and not feel pissed. I'm not sure if that is a good thing?

Whoa there says Mr Liver, what the hell is going on?

I've developed such a taste for it, since quitting smoking. A good drop of red is what I'm tonguing for.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Armageddon, we're right on track

So the Rudd Government is continuing with its Trading Carbon Scheme, or as it should be known, it’s Continue to Pollute Regardless Scheme as Mr Sellout, Peter Garrett, scraps yet another Solar Power Subsidy available to the public.
The only true saviour the world has, Solar Power, is being actively discouraged by this government. The oil and coal industry should be very pleased.
It is one minute to midnight and the Rudd Government is fiddling away like the string quartet on the deck of the Titanic, as carbon emissions still, to this day, increase at an ever increasing rate.
So, does anyone still think we are going to survive?

Monday, June 22, 2009






Happy and Sad

Brett and Johnny were watching a TV program on psychology, when Brett turned to Johnny and said,

"I bet you can't tell me something that will make me happy and sad at the same time."

Johnny smiled and said, "You've got the biggest dick of all your friends."

The Green Eyed Monster

Gay, straight. Old, young. Rich, poor. We all have proprietary issues. Is he mine? Am I the one?

Fears. Anxieties. Paranoia’s. Do they create a problem? Hurts. Insecurities. Doubts. Or does the problem create them?

Do they chase him away?

I’m going to be who I am. Set you free. You will find your own place. If you come back…

Sunday, June 21, 2009


Slapping Kaine

Kaine came over. I was lying on my bed reading. He threw himself on me and asked what I was reading. When I said, The Slap, he said, yes please.
So, I slapped his arse. He said he liked it. So I slapped it again. When his jeans were around his thighs and his cheeks were red with hand prints, he panted for me to stop. He rolled over in the sheets, with a cheeky smile. He looked adorable, as he got his breath.

He's got great legs, hairy, thick thighs, thick calves. He snuggled up next to me and put his head on my chest and said, "Keep reading. I need a rest. I like it here... he smiled... best."
I patted his head and he dozed off next to me.
I think I like him best too.

Funny hey? Moments of illusion. In the heat of it all, we can allow our minds to wander to places unknown. Not that I think anything about it. Self deception? Not that I expect much. Self preservation. But, in the moment, moments together can be joyous. Seconds, minutes, all strung together can be a life time. The present, the here and now, is what it’s all about, after all.
A smile, make me laugh. Bliss.
Every thing else will take care of itself.
It will be what it will be.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Mornings with David

Daylight. 14.06, says the clock. I sit up in bed. One eye won't open. I shuffle my feet on the tiles as I head into the kitchen, one eye focusing, still groggy. I can't quite believe I have slept that late. I was supposed to be in the country some time in the morning. I guess that's what I get for staying up till 4am on my computer. I'm not going to mention what websites I was on.
Good, gooOOood Morning! David, practically, yodels, suddenly at the kitchen door. What a lovely, lovely, lovely day it is today.
Grunt.
How are you on this glorious day?
Alive.
And, isn't it wonderful to be alive!
Grunt.
Have you had your first coffee?
No.
How long do I have to wait before I can sing a song?
How about 2012.
Melodic laugh. I'm just bursting. There's a song I just have to get out.
Why don't you use the big knife to get to it?
Big eyes. Maniacal smile. Twisting side to side, with his harms wrapped around himself, the physical manifestation of a song waiting to bust forth.
I don't think you realise how much I am restraining myself, he says, almost, with a girlish squeal.
I pick up my coffee and make eye contact for the first time. Low and sinister, I say, I don't think you realise how much I am restraining myself. My left hand just naturally balls into a fist, as I sip my coffee and make my retreat from Doris Day.
You're SO funny, David carols after me.
Shouldn't you be teaching somebody... somewhere?
Yes. Laugh. I'm leaving very soon. You won't have to put up with me for much longer. Just about to go.
There is a god.


There Must Be Someone To Tell

I read that Gabriel's mother reads his blog. I read that other bloggers have their friends read their blogs. I've never told anyone. In the beginning, it never occurred to me. Nobody knows I have a blog, none of my friends. Not Shane, not David, not Mark, not Kaine. None of them know that I write about them.
I haven't told anyone because I figure it leaves me free to write what I like. I think if I told someone, I'd start to self-censor.
But, just lately, I've been wondering if I'd ever tell anyone?
So, thinking about telling someone, I decided that, if I do, I'm going to start with my mate Jill. She's a good neutral figure, as in, I'm not writing about her constantly. We've known each other since we were teenagers. We can say anything to each other. We are way passed ever being offended by anything the other says...
... oh, I don't know, maybe I'll keep my mouth shut.
What if I tell them and nobody reads it? Can't be bothered. Apathetic bunch.
I never really wrote it for my friends to read, anyway. I always wrote it to see if I could make something interesting for other people to read. You know, people who don't know the story to begin with. Introduce a group of friends, who just happen to be... um...er?
Oh, I'm just rambling now? Grrr!

Friday, June 19, 2009

Flex in Greece



Too late, she cried

Even if we stop burning oil and stop generating electricity with coal, even if we stopped pumping carbon into the atmosphere completely, the planet will still continue heating up for the next sixty years, such is the mess we've made of it.
We're gonnas, I tell you.
Kiss ya kids goodbye.
I'll chuck my cat under the chin.
And I'll meet you at the abyss.

Out Drinking

Kaine and I and David went out drinking, late last night. David soon dumped us, as he latched on to some guy he's been cruising for years, with his usual intensity, every man for himself, gone in seconds.

Would I say David has a desperate edge to his bar etiquette? No, I wouldn't say that. (Was that thin veil of sarcasm detectable?))
We found them in the smoking section, David rutting on the other guys leg. Well, we had David's drink, we had to find them. Well, we didn't have to find them, but we did.
Kaine and I sat in the corner and chatted and laughed, as the world spun around us.
There was some skank, drunk New Zealunder, rotten and obnoxious, with vomit on his breath. There is always one. He was breathing all over everybody. And a nice boy from Perth, who had fallen in love with Melbourne.
I smoked 2 cigarettes. Kaine raised his eyebrows but only said,
"I don't want to hear complaining..."

"Huh! You'll hear complaining, sunshine, don't you worry."

Kaine jigged his leg. Kaine jigs his leg, I kind of like it.
Slippery slope, I know. I don't know why I had a cigarette, but I did. Actually, David's prospective asked me to hold his cigarette, kinda just like that, when he went to the toilet. So I puffed on it and it tasted just fine.

We turned into Gertrude Street, on the way home and the street was littered with lesbians. Ah, girl’s night. Never do you see a more disagreeable, humourless bunch, as the drunk, tired Lesbian clubber at the end of the night. Frowns, grimaces, hard faces, unhappiness. Not one smile, seemingly not a good time being had by any of them. And not one of them will step out of your way, as you try to pass by. They think nothing of blocking the footpath completely. Immovable. 

"Excuse me." 

Blank faces, a sneer, or contempt. I just wanted to say to them as a group, you know girls, lighten up, it may never fucken happen.
You, practically, need rugby shoulders to get through the crowd.
Most of them look like they carry knives.

I don't feel like a cigarette today, well up until this point, I didn't. Not that I feel like one now, but writing this made me think about them. Cigarettes, that is. Ah! It'll be out of my mind soon enough. I've got to go and get my second script filled. Perhaps, I should go and do that.


Thursday, June 18, 2009


The Devil returns

Wow! Grumpy, crappy, shitty, Christian made a come back with a vengeance yesterday. He kinda sneaked up on me. I yelled at my mum. I, practically, couldn't stand to look at David, let alone talk to him, when he was doing his usual, demand my attention, look at me, fairy-dust, isn't life wonderful routine, when I got home. I know, I should be used to that by now. What is it, 10 days off the cigarettes. My, famous, patience evaporated completely, my fuse disappeared to millimetres in length, my fangs grew, the hair on the backs of my hands bushed up. This giving up smoking is insurmountable. I felt good for the four, or so, weeks that I smoked and now I'm back to dipping my toes in the lake of misery. Negative, mean thoughts invade my head.
The Champix took care of the withdrawal cravings. I can honestly say that I haven't felt any of those.

My Year Without Sex

I went to see My Year Without Sex. I liked it, a simple and charming story. I've always loved Matt Day there is something really lovely about him. Natural. Honest. Not to mention the killer smile.
It did touch on the problem with parents today and that is that children are running the show. It really is time parents showed some back bone and took back control.
The paedophile was hilarious. The yuppy couple revolting. The Christians, well, your normal uptight lot. Her decision about God enlightening. The family life was played well, realistically. The story was good. There are lots of things subtly included in this film. The cinematography was a bit too stark, at times, for my liking.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009


Sixty per cent of Australians back gay marriage

A poll conducted for Australian Marriage Equality found that three in five Australians support gay marriage. The survey of 1,100 respondents found 60 per cent of Australians were in favour of same-sex marriage and in the recognition of gay marriages performed overseas.

The Greens voters gave the highest % support, followed by Labour voters. But even 50% of conservative voters gave their support, now that's pretty good.

Women were more likely to support gay marriage than men. (It's not being made compulsory, boys) The younger age groups gave greater support than the older age groups, with the over 50's the only age group dipping under majority support. (It didn't happen in my day)

Bob Brown said, "The Australian people are way ahead of the Rudd government and the Turnbull opposition."

So, let's hope the boss of the beige people, Kevvy babe, reads the survey.
It really should be such a non-issue by now. If two people want to get married they should be allowed to. Why should anyone not involved have a say in it?
Nobody has any legitimate opposition to same-sex marriage, other than bigotry, so come on let’s get with the 21st century and make all those lesbians, with white dresses in their closets, happy.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Nearly midnight...

Winter, tree branches like splinters, heating on. The breeze has a bite. The sun has gone. I stayed in all day, the sky was grey. I didn’t leave the house, I didn't even go to the shop. Lit a fire, a pile of wood I’d chopped. I was at my computer from morning to dusk. My ears are ringing, I’m not sure why? Tinnitus from the whine of my machine, I guess. I wonder, is that even possible? Likely? I'm going to keep away from it tomorrow just to test. It does have a certain, constant pitch. It’s not the first time, the ears not the whine. I wondered if I was sick, something to do with my eye problem that just won’t quit. You know, moving to my ears just to be a bitch. But maybe it’s the hours I spend in front of the screen, nine hours today, it would seem. I’m sure it’s not good for me, I should be exercising, you know, moving about. Bloody hell, I haven’t ridden my bike or gone for a walk in weeks.

OMG! David wants to give the cleaner a pay rise. I want to give her the sack. We have some ground to make up, on this one.

Brrrr!

Oo! Cold morning. Cold hands. Cold feet. Brrr! My toes are freezing. Brrr! Chilled. I’m sure they are red. Blue. Icy, grey. Like a corpse, cadaver, not long dead.
What to do? Waste the day like I usually do? I could write something. Yes, I could, would, should, will.
What is there to eat? Muesli, coffee, socks. Emails, news, stocks. What time is it? What day is it? My, my, how quickly every day is beginning to seem like the last. Lunch invite, I think I might. Get out of the house, out and about. Enjoy the sun. Shrug. If there was one.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Slava's Snowshow

If you want to go and see a wonderful show, go see Slava's Snowshow. I saw some advertising for it, apparently, it is returning soon. It is magical, whimsical and beautiful. I think it is one of the finest shows I've seen. Just gorgeous.


Love and marriage, love and marriage,
go together like a horse and carriage.
This I tell you, brother,
you can’t have one without the other.

Only if you are straight, of course.
Otherwise, you are not good enough, naturally.

Sunday, June 14, 2009


Missy's rise and shine

Missy was in bed before me, I got to bed about 2am. She was sprawled out across my doona, one paw over her face. She may as well had eye covers on. The only discernible change as I crawled into bed was the purring started. Otherwise, she wasn't moving a whisker for me.
Anyway, she has just gotten up. Just now. How many hours is that? It's a cat's life, hey! Well, there's nothing wrong with her bladder, I must say. She's straight to sniffing around her food bowl, glancing up at me with "that" look.
"Have we forgotten something, per chance?" Look back at her food bowl. Look back at me.
Then she comes into my study and rubs her head against my calf insistently. "Meow!" She sits beside my desk chair and every so often she reaches straight up and presses both her sets of claws into my hip just to remind me.

At the movies

I went to see Terminator Salvation, last night, at the casino. It was a big, block buster of an action movie. You were expecting? Big scenes, big sets, big action, big machines, big men. Bang, pow, zap, smash, run! Yeah, it was good. Good in that generic, he-man, all-action kind of American movie.
There were a few holes. At the beginning, When everyone was killed and Christian Bale, John Connor, escaped, how? Why wasn't he killed? And The Sam Worthington character, Marcus; how, exactly, did he locate everyone, the way he did?
But, Sam Worthington sure is pretty.
It all hung together well and unlike The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I watched on DVD the other night, I wasn't hoping it would end a considerable time before it did. It kept my interest all the way through. It's nothing that we all haven't seen, many times, before. But, it was good.
The ubiquitous love interest? I was just surprised it wasn't Angelina Jolie peeling herself out of that jet-fighter suit.

The casino was pumping, boy was it busy. Kind of sad in a way, soulless, supermarket entertainment. But sexy boys every where, with girls in, seemingly, shorter skirts than the girl before.
The most exciting bit was getting out of the car park afterwards. Median strips were stopping us from going in the direction we wanted. No problem, in a four wheel drive, we just drove over them all and in minutes we were heading up Flinders Street. Now, would we have done that if we'd just been to see Sampson and Delilah?

A Child's World

Children are running the world.
now we are shutting down the net for them.
Why does the rest of the world have to pay
for the lazy parenting skills of today?

Saturday, June 13, 2009



Well, there's a thing

Okay, I have to write this, just because. It's probably not something I would usually write, exactly, maybe, but I'm a little surprised by it.
It's not something I've really experienced before. No, it's not.
I imagine that Kaine wouldn't be too impressed if he knew I was telling the world.
David's always loved it, but then David's sexual tastes aren't always what one would describe as "usual."
Shane says he's okay with it, but it isn't something he'd choose in a guy, like David would.
I'm surprised that I, actually, kinda like it. Well, have grown to like it, kinda quickly. On my hands, afterwards...
I haven't told David yet, he'll get his "crazy" eyes when I do and he'll demand to know every last detail.
I, guess, I like it because I like Kaine. It's all apart of him.
And remember, my last two boyfriends, Manny and Maurice, who should have had the potential for it, but had surgery as adults to please their then boyfriends.
I'm not sure that I want to say it now, because once written down the meaning may not, exactly, be as clear as I might want it to be.
Okay. Kaine's foreskin has a pungent scent, even straight out of the shower, I tested it... and I find that I like it.
There. I said it. It's just him. David says he looks for it. Shane says he likes body odor. The smells of men. To be enjoyed.
Who'd have thought?

Friday, June 12, 2009

Got to Love a Charity Photo Shoot



I want to go on holidays too

Shane went to America on Wednesday to couch surf his way along the west coast for a month. He can trade sex for accommodation, it is a recognised currency. L.A., San Francisco, Las Vegas, Palm Springs. The sun should be shinning, summer is in full blaze.
David just got home from the wondrous delights of Turkey, not to mention the wondrous, somewhat bisexual, delights of Turkish men, and the (spoiled) beauty of Cyprus, last night.
What seems to be wrong with this scenario? Yes, exactly, when do I get to go away, I hear you all chorus together. When do I get to escape the cold of winter in Melbourne?
I get to stay home to look after my ailing old mum. Lucky fucken me.
I'd like to head to the sunny shores of Laos, just to do nothing for a few weeks. That would be nice.

Sigh! I got to walk into the city to claim my medicare rebate. The wind whistled down Victoria Parade, as the sunshine tried to break the Elm Trees canopy. Trams wafted passed on their raised steel tracks, somewhat silent, sitting up in the air. With just a whir, or maybe a hiss, I watched them sway majestically at speed. The avenue is wide and it affords a nice sense of space, if no shelter from the elements. At least the grass was green. There is something majestic about a boulevard with grass and trees running down the middle separating the opposite directions of traffic. There is a feeling of safety walking up the middle with the sound of cars on either side.
I'd been to the eye specialist, for a third time.
Gotta love living in Fitzroy, though. I woke at 10.15 – I know, I know, never get anything done living those kind of hours, thanks mum – for a 10.30 appointment and I still made it on time.
Shrug. Sorry. Don't really know what's wrong was the diagnosis. Take these drops and it should settle down.
I'm so sick of my enduring eye problem, an inexplicable low-level infection that clears up with drops, but comes back when they are stopped.
I wandered back through the Fitzroy Gardens. Jacket, jumper, scarf. Ain't winter bleak.

State of affairs

Kevin Rudd used the expression, "fair shake of the sauce bottle, mate," three times in a conversation. The man is such a revolting try-hard, how can anyone still like him.
Word of advice, Kevvy, nobody uses that expression, other than, perhaps, in a satirical TV sketch.

Julia Gillard opens her mouth to talk and half the population suffers from acquired narcolepsy syndrome.

Penny Wong sounds like a computer generated voice, you can almost hear the switch click to "on" when she starts to talk.

And Peter Garrett approves an exploration tunnel (expansion by stealth?) at the Ranger Mine in Kakadu.

It's a sad day, indeed, when I have to admit, to myself more than to any of you, that the most interesting people in politics, for good reasons or for bad, are Malcolm Turnbull and Wilson Tuckey.
When did all our politicians become scared, beige carbon copies of each other, as if they are spewed out of some great sausage-making, political non-entity machine, some where on the Bruce Hwy, just out of Canberra? When did they become such yawn inspiring, gormless politi-trolls?

Thursday, June 11, 2009


99 Meme

I read this meme on Real Euphoria's blog. I thought it was interesting. I love a good meme, can't help but want to complete them when I see them. Maybe there is therapy I could have? Maybe a meme is therapy?

1. When was the last time you cried?
Last night watching Grand Torino.

2. Have you ever faked sick?
If you mean in life, no. If you mean for work, kind of. Usually, because I was exhausted and got up late and couldn't muster the energy to get going.

3. What was the last lie you told?
So long ago I can’t remember. I learnt years ago that lies don’t serve me well. Usually, I’m accused of being “too” honest.

4. Have you ever cried during a movie?
Yes, lots of times. Last night. I like it when movies make me cry.
I quite like crying, I find there is something strangely nice about it.

5. Who was the last person you couldn't take your eyes off of?
Oh, not something that really happens. Probably, under the coloured lights at a dance party under the influence of something.
Actually, the 20 year old in Camberwell Safeway in front of me at the register, today. Blue jeans, blue top, Tin Tin hair, sideburns, big, sparkly brown eyes, unblemished face... cute as the proverbial button.

6. Have you ever danced in the rain?
I remember being on Wye River beach when it rained, unexpectedly, when it was very hot, we danced in our board shorts, we were tanned, slippery and wet. But sometimes, feeling the rain fall on your face even when it is cold is just as amazing.

7. Have you ever been drunk?
I never used to like it or was even good at it, but I’m getting better at it now. You know, practice makes perfect. I’m even liking it, now a days.

8. Have you ever tried drugs?
Yes, most of them. They can be fantastic kids, don't listen to your parents. Although, I don't do them now, so draw your own conclusions.

9. Do you smoke?
Oh, how to answer this? I’m on day 4 of quitting. I have struggled to quit for the last few years. I've probably not smoked more than I have smoked in that time.

10. What’s the farthest you've ever gone on a dare?
I don’t know. I can’t remember the last time I was dared to do anything. It’s not something Virgos go in for.
The last dare I can remember was being dared by a friend at school to touch his cock.

11. What is your full name?
You know me as Christian Aloysius Fletcher.

12. What is your blood-type? A+ (Real Euphoria, if you ever need a transfusion, I'm your man)

13. Have you ever been in a car accident?
Yes. I was driving my classic Cooper S home one night when a woman came though a stop sign in front of me and crashed into the front of my car. I couldn't say anything to her, other than, name rank and serial number, as I know I would have abused her if I did. She kept carrying on about "her ticket," in a heavy accent, which turned out to be her number plate, but I just got the required details and left.

14. How old were you when you had your first kiss?
On a school excursion when I was in grade 4. My first real kiss? 16

15. Who was your first kiss?
On the school excursion it was with Anne Lancaster. My first real kiss was with Alex, my first boyfriend from school.

16. Have you ever had an online relationship? No... oh maybe, does chatting to someone on msn, over a period of six months, count? We never had sex, or anything.
I think the answer is no.

17. Have you ever had phone sex?
Yes. My last boyfriend, Manny, got me into it when neither of us could be bothered in making the trek from one suburb to another and we practically live in adjoining suburbs. Greek boys? Can't live with them, can't live without them.

18. Have you ever been rejected by a crush?
I don’t think so. I've never felt crushed by an object of desire. I used to always get everyone I wanted. Now, I'm a little more choosy.

19. What is your favourite sport to play? Cycling.

20. Have you ever made a prank phone call?
When I was a child, very amateurishly to 000. My, my, I haven't thought about that in years.

21. What’s your favourite childhood memory?
Being carefree in primary school. Water skiing with all my cousins on xmas holidays.

22. Is there anything that you have done that you regret?
Yes, a few. Always, it’s been things that I didn't do.

23. What do you want to be when you grow up?
An archaeologist, when I was a child. Now, I want to be a writer when I grow up.

24. What is your political persuasion?
I guess you would call it socialist. Half the world is drowning under the weight of what it has. The other half, often, doesn't have water or a roof over its head. The system needs to change.
Half the world is eating itself to death, the other half is starving. The planet is polluted and the human race is unlikely to survive from here. The financial markets have fallen apart. Which part of capitalism is, actually, working?

25. Have you ever had cybersex?
I’m not sure what that means? If you mean jacking off over pictures on the Internet, I guess I have.

26. Do you believe in god?
No. This is it, there is nothing else. There is no god. The belief in god is ignorance, superstitious ignorance.

27. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Sure I do. Even if it's not true, it is still something I would like to believe in.

28. Do you believe in karma?
No. But, I believe that if you always put out bad energy, you will, probably, always attract bad energy in return.

29. Who was your first crush? Alex Roberts.

30. Who do you have a crush on? No one.

31. How would you describe yourself? Lazy.

32. What are you afraid of? Mediocrity.

33. Are you religious? No.

34. What does your screen name mean? Nothing.

35. Which person do you trust the most? My ex-boyfriend, Mark.

36. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? Alex/Leah.

37. What is the best compliment you have ever received?
I’m the most together person in the world.

38. What is the meanest thing anyone has said about you?
You are a loner. It has always stayed with me, because I like my own company, I can be perfectly happy being on my own for days. That comment, has always made me fear that one day I would be alone.

39. What is the longest crush/relationship you have had?
Longest relationship was/is twenty years – my ex-boyfriend Mark, ten years together romantically. Thirty years – my ex-girlfriend Leah, eight years together romantically. We were babies when we met, a life time ago.

40. What is your greatest strength?
I don’t feel like I have any, to tell you the truth. Other people would say my groundedness, my generosity, my intellect.

41. What is your greatest weakness?
Passive aggression.
Or, so often I take a step back, to think, when I should have taken a step forward and fucked the consequences.

42. What is your perfect pizza? Calamari, prawns and artichokes.

43. What is your first thought when waking up in the morning? coffee.

44. What is your last thought before you go to bed?
It varies, I fall off to sleep when I am lost in thought. If my mind is blank, I can’t sleep.

45. What university do you want to go to?
Go back to uni? What?... Okay, RMIT, to turn my diploma of creative writing into a degree.

46. Do you get along with your family? Yes. I always have.

47. Do you play any instruments?
I played the viola for twenty years. When I moved out of home, at twenty four, I didn't take it with me and I never played it again. I didn't intend for that to happen, but it did.

48. What kind of music do you like?
All types of music, except perhaps Irish folk songs. If I have to choose, I’d say Soul.

49. Do you think you’re attractive? Sometimes. No.

50. Would you ever get a tattoo? Probably not.

51. How many piercings do you have? None.

52. Who makes you laugh?
Usually, stand up comedians. Just them and a mic.

53. Who would you want to be tied to for 24hours?
Nobody. But, if I had to choose, my ex-boyfriend Mark.

54. Have you ever seen a dead body?
Yes, a few times. Two in a hearse, in clear plastic bags. I was told not to look. If I hadn't been told not to, I probably wouldn't have.
And another one with a needle still sticking out of his arm, in a car in my street.
Oh yes, and my father. I kissed him on the forehead a couple hours after he died and he was stone cold.

55. Do you have a celebrity crush?
No. But, if I had to say, Matt Damon, who isn't my usual type. One night a girlfriend and I watched an extended interview with him, at the end we were both visibly flushed with desire.

56. What is one thing scientists should invent?
Better solar power generation and quickly.

57. Have you ever broken a bone? No

58. What happens after you die?
Dust, or a worm through the eye if you are not cremated. Nothing happens, black, silent. All over. There is nothing else.

59. Do you watch or read the news?
I don’t watch the television news services any longer, as they are more intent on delivering the “world psycho drama” into our lounge rooms in full and vivid technicolour for ratings, rather than for delivering the facts. I would suggest, for happiness sake, that everybody turns off the television news services.
I read the news, as I feel I can control the way it is delivered to me.

60. What stereotype would you label yourself as being?
I don’t know if I fit a stereotype. Not that this means anything at all, as we all know, but mostly I get, I would never have picked you as gay.

61. Would your friends agree with that stereotypic label?
You’d have to ask them that.

62. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
As a child, I desperately wanted to be called Victor Black, let’s go with that.

63. If you could go back in time to one point in your life, where would you go?
Oh so many points, so many changes to be made. Maybe, I’d like to come out as a gay teenager, but my ex-girlfriend is one of my closest friends and I wouldn't change what I had with her for anything.
The two things that really come to mind are,
When I went to uni to study my business degree, I’d change to study writing instead.
When my ex-boyfriend moved to the country and I refused to move there with him because I felt some stupid (idiotic) need to be able to earn my own living and our relationship didn't survive as boyfriends.

64. If you could change anything about yourself, what would you change?
More determined, more go getter, more driven to do the things I love. Vanquish fear. I wish I could go forth more fearlessly, more often.

65. Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Yes

66. Have you ever played strip poker? No.

67. Would you ever lie to someone to make them feel good about themselves?
No, probably not. If her arse looks fat in those, she might as well know it.

68. What do you want your friends to think about you?
That I am a happy person.

69. What’s the biggest argument you've ever gotten into?
None that I remember. I forget those things quickly. Forgive, it only hurts you in the end to hold on to that stuff.
I guess, my first house, I bought with a friend. I put up the cash for my half, he got a mortgage for his half. (houses were cheap then and I inherited a modest sum of money) Not long after he lost his job and the advice he took was to do nothing, as he hadn't, actually, put in a cent of his own money. Let the bank foreclose, was the cheapest option for him. Our friendship never recovered.

70. Have you ever bitten someone?
No. That question makes me laugh, though. Maybe I should bite someone before I die?

71. When’s your birthday? The 14th of September.

72. Have you ever stolen anything?
I did as an 18 year old. I stole something worth $5 just to see if I could. I promptly got caught. Months later, on the steps to the court house a woman approached me with the words, “Are you Christian Fletcher?” It was the security person from K-mart.
“You don’t belong here,” she said. “I’m sorry that I caught you. I have spoken to a lawyer inside, his name is blah blah. He will represent you. Plead guilty and you’ll get a bond. I shouldn't be doing this, but you’re a good kid, not the sort I’m usually used to dealing with.”
I took her kindness as a sign to never to steal anything ever again. And I never have.

73. Do you make wishes on shooting stars?
No. One of my favourite memories, however, was lying on a roof top in Calabria, in the family village of my ex-boyfriend, Lauri, on a warm night, holding his hand, counting shooting stars as they shot across the sky.

74. What’s the most you've ever eaten in one sitting?
Fish and chips until I thought I was going to vomit, until I hoped I would vomit. Until I impersonated Linda Blair.

75. If you could go back and change one day, what would it be?
My best mate died a couple of years ago of Leukaemia. Even he admitted to me in the end, that there was a possibility that it could have been caused by his intravenous drug use. If I could go back to that first day that he was offered the needle and I could talk him out of it, I’d give it a shot. I miss him terribly.
A month after Tom died, another great friend threw a rope over a tree and hanged himself, due to depression caused by him falling from his bike one night without a helmet, drunk off his mind, hitting his head hard on the road. I’d go back to that day and catch him as he fell.

76. Do you remember your dreams?
I've always had the most vivid and bizarre dreams, ever since I was a child. Now that I have quit smoking pot, it is so amazing to remember them all again, nightly. I love it all over again. I write them down in my journal.

77. Have you ever been in love?
Yes. I've had forever twice, nearly 3 times.

78. Are you a morning person or a night person?
Either, if you don’t count the first fifteen minutes in the morning. Once, I would have said night, no doubt about it. But now it could go either way.

79. Do you have any phobias?
Fear of heights, which I never had as a child. I think we learn fear as we grow older.

80. What’s the meanest thing you've ever done to someone?
I can’t remember. I don't do mean things to people, if I can help it.

81. Have you ever been to the hospital (other than birth)?
Yes, to have my wisdom teeth removed.

82. How many screen names do you have?
A couple

83. Do any medical problems run in your family?
Cancer, heart disease, meanness with money. My grandma, on my dad’s side, was an alcoholic. Longevity, on my mum’s side. My Mother's sister, Olive, is insane.

84. Has anyone ever been disowned from your family?
No...
...oh, my great, great, great aunt, I guess, (3 or 4 generations back) used to escape from home, as a teenager, and head down to the docks to be with the sailors. Her father used to go and drag her back, hose her down and take her inside. When she was eighteen, her father stopped going to collect her and she disappeared. Does that count?

85. Have you ever had a nightmare?
Yes, of course. But not for a long time. My dreams are always so vivid that it would really have to be something to be a nightmare.

86. Do you say meaner things to your friends or your enemies?
I don’t have enemies. But, I have a sharp tongue and I’m not afraid to use it when provoked.

87. Would you ever participate in a threesome?
Oh... have you got a year for me to explain. I've had threesomes with boyfriends. I lived in a threesome for four years. Now, I’m not keen to have one, even casually, which always disappointed Manny as he wanted to pick up Italian muscle boys at the gym. What was I thinking?

88. Would you ever pay for a prostitute?
Sure, why not. I haven't yet, but it's something I should do before I die. When I'm old and grey, maybe, as exciting as that may sound for the prostitute involved.

89. Have you ever mooned or flashed someone? No.

90. Have you ever cheated on your bf/gf?
Yes and no. As a kid, I did cheat on my girlfriend as I experimented with boys, but, you know, I don't really think that counts. As an adult, I've always had open relationships.

91. Have you ever laughed so hard you peed in your pants?
No, not literally. Gasped for breath, begged for it to stop, fallen on the ground in agony, but never pissed my pants.

92. Have you ever written a love letter?
Yes. Love poetry, really.

93. Have you ever attempted suicide?
No. But, I've daydreamed about it many times. It's just that all the options seem so unsavoury.

94. Do you prefer boxers or briefs? Either.

95. Have you ever been in a fistfight? Never.

96. Do you have any hidden talents? No.

97. What is one thing you want me to know about you?
Isn't the above enough?

98. What is one question you wouldn't want me to ask?
I’m not frightened of any questions. Ask anything you like. Usually, if anything, people are frightened of my answers.

99. What do you think of this meme?
I liked it.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009


Hypocrisy is spelt with a H

Tracey Grimshaw the host of television the likes of Nine's A Current Affair, a show that uses every trick in the book to ambush it's victim's in a grab for ratings. Any one who has watched A Current Affair would have seen for themselves that no tactic is beneath them. And now Grimshaw has the nerve to complain about someone who may have given it back.
Oh Tracey, time to give it up.

The spat began on Friday when Gordon Ramsay ended an interview with Ms Grimshaw by poking fun at a mole on the lip of the current affairs host. Apparently, this comment was made after the interview was finished and, I've heard, A Current Affair rushed to include it as a grab for ratings.
Whatever Grimshaw got after that was her own doing.
The whole thing is a beat up by Grimshaw and her lot.

Prime Minister Kevin Rudd said the chef's comments reflected a "new form of low life". Oh shut it Kevin, everyone now knows you have a fouler mouth than Gordon ever will. (something like 60% of Kevie's staff have thus far resigned) Julia Gillard and Health Minister Nicola Roxon joined in, saying Ramsay should confine himself to the kitchen and stop abusing women.
He, actually, wasn't abusing women, at all, let's not get too precious. He was having a go at a person who happens to be a woman. There is a difference.
Don't these beige, devoid of personality, public servants realise that they are in Canberra only to balance the books and should keep out of commenting on social issues. Nobody cares what they have to say about things that don't concern them. Has anyone ever watched their puerile antics in Question Time?

Tuesday, June 09, 2009







Happy Pills Forever

These non-smoking pills really are good. By evening, yesterday, I had completely forgotten that I'd quit smoking. Now let me reassure all you evil non-smokers, that is a big deal. The end of day 1 of quitting smoking, the quitter feels like torturing puppies, or decapitating small children, let me tell you. Okay, I was four days passed the required date to stop, according to the happy pill instructions, but it doesn't seem to have made a difference. My arm didn't drop off, I didn't crap out my bowel, the world didn't cease to function, as we know it. (Okay, that last one is up for debate, but it didn't happen in the 4 days that I continued to smoke when I shouldn't have)
I'm feeling fine. Yay. The whole world should take pharmaceutical drugs. Oh, that's right, the whole world does.

I must stop picking up a chomp when I go to the milk bar for newspapers and cigarettes... er, no, not any more... milk.

Monday, June 08, 2009


Smoking

I often smoke in bed, you know, when I'm tucked up with late night television, just the blue glow of the tube on my face. People tell me that this is a bad thing to do. Fall asleep, go up in flames. Imagine waking to a cloud of smoke?
I'm 4 days passed my give up day, according to the pills I'm taking. Bugger! I just can't seem to get my head around it.
Kaine tells me that he doesn't like me smoking. Big brown eyes, worried look. He always makes me laugh when he does that. He likes my laughing almost as much.
I'm going to give it a go today. Give it a go. I feel strong. I haven't got any, I'd have to go to the shop. So, why not.
Mark's the one who's been calling me practically every day about smoking and quitting.
"Come on Chriso, I need the pills to work for you, so I can use them to stop too."
It's kind helped put it in my head. So, here goes.
One thing, though. I've already turned into a grumpy bastard these last few months. Watch out world, I could be biting and scratching and clawing...

In the evening...
I haven't smoked all day and I feel remarkably fine, all things considered.
I haven't had the urge to kill anyone, so that's always a bonus.

Sunday, June 07, 2009


Use the remote

Every emotional cripple who has a beef to air about a dying brat seems to have come out of the wood work to open a vein about the Chaser's skit. I even read about some woman who's kid died 29 years ago, who cried for an hour after viewing the footage. Oh lady, get some therapy.
I can bet you that most of them didn't even watch the show on the night, but have since watched the footage, on whichever news service has repeated the item in the race for ratings, so they too could be a part of the "outrage."
If you don't like it, don't watch it. It is still that simple. Use the remote.
I wonder how many of the "outraged" haven't even seen the footage?
I think it is the shadow side of the celebrity cult, or the shadow side of the "me, me, me' generation, where everyone thinks they can have their 2.5 seconds of fame, that opinion is a right and not something earned. And there is that whole group of people who's only vehicle for this is moral outrage.

Saturday, June 06, 2009


Kaine meets Guido

I took Kaine over to see Guido and Guido was in fine form. Kaine had on kinda lose fitting camouflage pants and if you think I was some what taken back when Guido had his hand down them in no time flat, you should have seen the look on Kaine's face. Ha, ha, ha. Hysterical. I've never seen his eyes so big, or his neck so stiff.
"Nice kid, that Kaine..."
"Guido, he's thirty three."
"Handsome," said Guido, without missing a beat. "A bit fucken jumpy, though."
"You had your hand down his pants."
"Ha." Guido shrugged. "That's how I greet all the new boys."
"You never did that to me," I said, wondering if I was going to regret it. Thinking what the hell am I saying.
"Yeah, well, your like a brother, mate," said Guido. "We might go in for some funny shit around here, but incest isn't one of them." He reached over to the coffee table. "Bong?"
Kaine returned from the toilet. He was smiling his cheeky smile, so I figured he was okay. He sat next to me.
The water gurgled, it was putrid.
"He's got a nice handful, though."
Kaine looked uncomfortable.
I coughed and spluttered. "Guido!"
"If you get sick of this guy any time soon, come see me," Guido said to Kaine.
Kaine smiled at me and then looked over at Guido. "No, I think I'll be okay."
Guido exhaled through his pouting mouth. "Guido doesn't like rejection."
I handed the putrid, glass thing to Guido and for the first time, practically ever, swine flu came into my head. "You could clean it once in a while, you pig." Guido pushed it towards Kaine. He refused.
"Okay!" Guido stood up. "Now you have to leave." He was pointing to the front door. Kaine looked nervous and half lifted his arse off the couch. "Are you a fucken spy, or what?"
"What?" asked Kaine nervously.
"Take no notice of him," I said. "He's kidding you around."
"Actually," said Kaine, dead pan, looking back at Guido. "I'm usually referred to as a Fed..."
"Woo-Hoo!" yelped Guido, leaping up and clapping his hands. "Smart too." He put his hand over his mouth and moved close to Kaine's ear, as if he was having a private word to him. "No wonder this one likes you."
Kaine smiled at me coyly. He's damn cute.
Guido licked the side of his face, with a big, wet tongue and momentarily, Kaine's expression turned to one of someone shitting themselves. He jumped. Guido has a knack of ruining moments, doesn't like the attention off him for too long.
"Tastes good too," said Guido, looking over at me.
Kaine wiped the side of his face with his open palm, and a grimaced. He looked upwards at Guido. "I'm just getting over Hep A, I should warn you."
"Well," said Guido, laughing. He raised his eyebrows at me as if to say he approved of Kaine. "There's only one thing for it." He reached over behind the couch. He slammed a bottle down on the coffee table in front of us. "Vodka shots. Are you game?"
"Sure," said Kaine.

I staggered on the way out and Kaine caught me in his arms, not that I really needed catching, but it felt nice. He looked me in the eye and said earnestly.
"I don't like it when you smoke."
I mean seven vodka shots later. Huh? I wanted to say, What the? But instead, I just felt his big arms around me and laughed. He did too.
We walked home in the cool night air, together. Laughing chatting. I'm sure the world was going on around us, but I honestly didn't notice.

We went out and played at Sircuit, D, Shane, Mark W. Someone suggested meth, but I'm glad that didn't eventuate, as it is so moreish once you start. And you can never be sure where the urge will take you in the end. So we settled for smoking joints and drinking beer, till 2am. I'm sure I was flirting with Mark W without meaning to. Mr tall, dark and handsome. You know, by the sixth schooner I wasn't really sure. I suspected, at one stage, that he was flirting with me, but it's doubtful. No. It must have been my beer goggles, I decided. You know, like the chick who finds herself in the hotel room with the group of rugby players should have, I decided I'd had enough beer, at that point and switched to coke.
D won all rounds.
The night air was crisp and bracing as we walked home.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Matt Came Over

Matt came over, it was good to see him, I kind of miss him. Sweet Matt.

Then he went up stairs and had a screaming match with Shane and I headed outside for a cigarette to pretend I didn't hear any of it.

Ex-boyfriends, god loves them... er, god luv em... oh, just don't use the god term... you've got to love them, that is what I am trying to say. All that pent up frustration, so easily boils over like a volcano of hurt and loss and missing the other one. Poor Matt. Poor Shane. Poor them. Nobody likes a break up. Nobody.

The Chaser boys

Those Chaser Boys are such wags. They did a comedy skit about dying kids - a week after one of its stars suggested he judged the show's success on its ability to offend.
The segment, titled “Making A Realistic Wish Foundation”, with actor Chris Taylor saying there was no point in making expensive wishes come true as "the kids are going to die anyway."
Naturally, the troglodyte, great unwashed general public are now beating their chests and braying for blood. Thank the lordy do da day there is at least some small semblance of Australia left that hasn’t turned beige, conservative, join the dot, non-thinking suburbanites. Get lives people, this is comedy. I know we now live in Stalag Australia where all thinking is dictated by the govt bureau, but really... we all need a laugh from time to time.
I thought it was funny. People are so precious now a days. Lighten up guys.
I assume the great unwashed do understand that the kids were actors and not real sick kids at all? Maybe? Who knows?


Thursday, June 04, 2009

Those eyes remind me of my ex-boyfriend's eyes. Beautiful green. If I close mine, I can still picture him looking at me adoringly.
I think green eyes are my favourite, probably because of him. We used to lie in the grass in the sun in the park facing each other for hours, chatting, gazing, smiling, as the rest of the world went on around us.
The green, flecked cornea, round and solid, like circles of moss, pupils piercing black, the white whites sparkling, long, black lashes, flutter fluttering, the creases forming at the corners as he smiled... especially for me.


Wednesday, June 03, 2009

He's Got a Beautiful Cock


I was thinking about the whole corporate greed issue and you know, it's true. My company's C.E.O.'s salary went from three hundred thousand and something to one and half million in five years, 2003 to 2008. I think mine increased 25% in the same period, where the C.E.O.'s increased 400%. Nice work if you can get it, hey?

The result of conservative political policies.

In the last year, apparently, the company has retrenched a large number of staff, economic down turn and all. Despite the fact that they tell me that the company is still on budget. And I can bet you now, the C.E.O. will still get the 200K bonus that she always gets.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

I'd like to pull his shorts open from the elastic waistband




Oh well... out with the old

Marguerite arrived at 11.30. I said hi and walked straight out the door. I went down to my favourite cafe, Cocos and had breakfast, poached eggs with spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes. Two coffees and a freshly squeezed orange juice. I avoided buying the newspaper, and buying into the world psycho drama yet again and, instead, I took my first chapter to my novel to write.

I headed outside into the court yard for a cigarette and the rain came down. It was nice, a nice feeling the fine drops of water falling on my face. Refreshing, clean. I lay my head back from underneath the umbrella and felt the drops fall.

Yesterday morning, when I dug down into my jumper basket to retrieve a jumper I hadn't worn for a while, I found jumper after jumper with holes, having been eaten by whatever it is that eats wool. There were white mildewy marks and sleeves and shoulders, ostensibly, missing.

Ah! My favourite black cashmere, my green cable, my blue V-neck, my teal zip up with leather patches on the elbows. The leather patches were in good shape, just every thing attached... my burgundy zip collar was okay, but I'm ditching it anyway, it's always been too big.
I still can't believe it. Some of my favourite clothes.
Spilt milk, can't cry, get a garbage bag and chuck them all away.

I headed into the city for a little avoid-the-cleaner retail therapy, some new woollens and a couple of DVD's, as it turned out. Four new jumpers. A green collared button up, a black, charcoal and pale blue V-necks.
Lovely.

Today, I'm taking mum to the supermarket. You can bet I'll be buying some of those Sheltox Pest things. Of course, I blame it on Marguerite, isn't that her job? Ha, ha, if only.
I can't bring myself to look at my suits in the wardrobe. Eeek!

I'm supposed to be quitting smoking today, but I can already feel myself heading to the milk bar.