Saturday, April 30, 2011

The burqa

The burqa, surely is a part of women's rights? Why shouldn't they be allowed to wear them? Whatever the reason they want to is a whole other story.

Isn't it just racism - you know, not white and christian - that is behind the push to ban them?

Isn't everybody else free to wear what they want to wear?

Friday, April 29, 2011

Ah, up at 9.30, breakfast and the world news

Ah, up at 9.30, breakfast and the world news until I had to head off to the doctor by midday to get a few new scripts. Then a mosey around the book shop on my way home, to see if they have the book I read about in the doctor's waiting room, The secret history of queer Melbourne, they didn't. Then catching up with a friend for a quick lunch, the friend is fitting in in between appointments and then home by 2pm to call the roller door man to fix my roller door, something I have been putting off for some time.

The joys of working 3 days per week.

One of my old colleagues tells me that a company that we both used to do consulting work for is desperate for staff... apparently, there is a skills shortage, or some such thing. Who'd have thought? Coincidentally, I've been thinking that while working 3 days per week is lovely, just gorgeous, I'm not, actually, doing the writing that I was meant to be doing. You know, take 2 days off per week and write that great novel. Yes, well, nice in theory, but not a lot is happening in practise. So, I had just been thinking that I should increase my work hours, when my excolleague told me about the before mentioned company.

What do they call that? No, I'm sure it's not kizmit.

It's all very nice having four days off and working three, but am I wasting my time pissing it all away?

And, of course, Santo, being the strict work ethic type that he is, thinks it's a grand idea that I go back to full time work. He just looks at me when I say I like my three day weeks, as though I am speaking some sort of alien tongue. Most of my excuses affect him like water on a ducks back and he crosses his arms and purses his mouth, the way he does and he calls me lazy Christian.

Apparently, I could have a new car and I could fix all the things that need fixing around the house and I could have a mountain of "new stuff" if I went back to five days.

"Good plan," he says. "Make it happen."

So, as well as calling the roller door man - my roller door no longer, actually, does what you would call work, so I can put that off no longer - I'm supposed to be calling my old company and teeing up a contract or a million.
You see, I do not like my current company enough to go back full time with them. I was going to suggest it to them last new year, but then I had all that trouble with the anorexic bitch boss and I decided it was a bad idea. This way, I can go and work for my old company Monday and Friday and most likely that would morph into more work than that with them and then I can leave my current company.

"It's a good plan," says Santo. "Call them."

But, you see, if I do that I will, actually, have to work five days again and... and... and, I like doing lunch and I like going to the doctor (when it suits me and not squeezed in after work) and I like looking around book shops.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Royal Wedding

Wills and Kate taking beige to new heights. I'm with David Letterman... I'm not sure if I don't care, or I could care less about these people.

I think the royal family had their turn with glamorous princess', Diana and Margaret, to name two. Now there's a couple of chicks who could enter a room.

But Kate... (shaking head, she's probably a fucking virgin) oh, I'm bored already. And Wills (he probably is too), you know he used to be handsome.

They are a shining example of the homogenised, pre-packaged, nice, never say anything inappropriate (I always see that word being uttered by rat-faced receptionists with voices that could etch glass), never be disrespectful (ditto about this word), always be safe and beige, world.

Give me Harry, at least he's interesting. At least he can be counted on to smoke a joint, get drunk and thank God, do something inappropriate... in this every more bland and safe world.

Ah Harry - I'd like to slap on a swash sticker and goose step him into the bedroom.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Anzac Day

The celebration of the world's stupidity.

I don't get it.

The horror of war... now a major date on the social calendar.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Sebastian said we should be selling chocolate nails

Sebastian said we should be selling chocolate nails, as our part towards the international chocolate festival, we'd make a fortune. He bought pot over Thursday night.

And something for Shane I suspect, as he's been doing meth since Friday, and trawling the net for boys, big time, locked in his room for days at a time. He's desperate to replace Leon. He's got ten days off work, it could be a train wreck.

Santo and  I have been cooking and shopping for food and bike riding. Lovely. The weather has been grand. Shane cooks for me during the working week, while I hate with a passion coming home and cooking after work. So, when I get an opportunity when I am home with no real plans, I like to make it up to him. So, I wanted to cook the classics, risotto, pumpkin soup, spaghetti carbonara, big breakfasts and brownies. So, that's what Santo and I did for three days. We watched movies in between.

I'm sorry it coincided with your meth weekend, babe. That's just how it goes some times. I even headed to town and bought new saucepans.

I went and gave my mother an easter egg and took her on a picnic, today, to make up some of the guilt for not having seen her for the last two weeks, not to mention not seeing her till the Monday of the Easter break. My sister picked me up.
Santo headed home.

As I was leaving today, standing out on the street with Santo, I couldn't remember if I had put the fire grate in front of the fire - I had a fire last night, Shane was up all night, I couldn't bare to see it go out over breakfast - and I walked back inside, when I couldn't keep control over my OCD, to greet Shane coming downstairs with who he said was to be a hot wog boy coming at 1am, to be my old fuck buddy, Benjamin.
"Hi Benjamin."
"Oh hi Christian." Big smile.
"You two know each other?" said Shane.
"Although it's Nick now isn't it?"
"No, back to Ben."
"How do you two know each other?"
"I've got to go," I said as I headed back out to Santo. "Nice to see you."
"Yeah, you too, Christian."
"You two know each other?"

Shane said later that the cute wog boy made it to 4 am, that's when he went back on line to find a replacement, and Ben turned up.."
"Benjamin... Ben. The last time I saw him was when David introduced me to him at a film festival but he introduced him as Nick - Ben had changed his name, unbeknownest to me, and while I thought he looked like Benjamin, as I knew him, but I must have been mistaken as David said he was Nick. That was last year.
As we walked home after the film, I said Nick sure looked like my old bud Benjamin, at which David squealed and said Nick was Ben. How do you know that filthy boy? And he called him and said how funny...
The rest is history.
Nick was the filthy fister David has been talking about, but I didn't realise who he was talking about. So, he'd learnt a few new tricks since I knew him.

I got home from visiting my mother by 2pm. We had a picnic in a park with rolls and a thermus. The sun shone, it was baeautiful day.

Shane was wided-eyes and eating noodles when I got home. He said he hadn't eaten since Thursday and that he crawled around to a local cafe in his sunglasses and begged for a take away, when the shakes were getting too bad.

Then Ben arrived for round two and the two of them disappeared upstairs never to be seen again.

David rang later to say he was coming over. He lives vicariously through Shane's meth habit, as David himself doesn't touch the stuff, well, not any more. He can always be counted on to turn up if he sniffs a drug story. When I told him about Ben, David said he knew and that Shane put a cock lock on him so he had to come back to have it removed. David's high from a successful retreat in Broome. He was going out to get his cock sucked before he came over. He'd tell me all then.
How he knew, I wasn't sure.

Mark and Luke dropped around and ordered home delivery pizza, and we smoked pot and Watched Wallace and Grommet.

David arrived on the high of life, breathing in my face as I opened the door, saying what does that smell like.  He rattled on about his coming trip over seas, before asking if Ben was still up stairs with Shane.
"I so hope he brings Benny down to the lounge."
"I so want to say to him when he walks into this room, SO, how does it feel to walk into a room of men, when you have slept with everyone of them?

He slept with Mark and I when we were together, quite a few times, he was a regular. He'd slept with Mark and Luke more recently, at a Mardi Gras off their faces. He went out with David. Now Shane, it was true.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Woman Savagely Raped in Brisbane

"Woman savagely raped in Brisbane", read the headline.

It made me stop and think. Huh? What the? Is there a way where a rape isn't savage?

Is that when you sneak up behind them and yell, "Surprise!" (Oh sorry, I don't know what came over me) Feminists and humourless god botherers hate that joke. And I guess I can see why, as it is not a joke.

It is some gay boy's fantasy, and some girl's fantasy too, apparently, as long as it never happens, for real, of course, as long as it stays a fantasy.

So it is back to the original question, can you have a rape that isn't savage? And brutal? And degrading?

Savagely raped. What is not savagely raped? It is the media milking it for all it is worth? But really, do you even need to do that, do you, if it is a rape? Click bait, is that what they call it? I guess the media can't help itself.

Me either, so it would seem.

Saturday, April 23, 2011


It's 8 o'clock and I'm hungry.

Wow! It's 8 o'clock no wonder I'm hungry.

It's 8 o'clock and I'm hungry.

8 o'clock.

What have I been doing up until 8 o'clock?

Friday, April 22, 2011

Driving home from the mechanic in peak hour traffic last night this great cloud drifted into sight just to brighten up our moment to give us something to look at other than the sea of red tail lights up a head

Thursday, April 21, 2011

What can I say, we've been in a pot phase.

What can I say, we've been in a pot phase. Every night after diner. And while that usually inspires me to write, not so much, this time around it's been the complete opposite. Nothing.

Oh, I don't know why, we can't wait for the end of the year, um... er... that's why we're getting stoned. Cigarettes and all, weak as piss. It's been a long year, thus far.

It's winter? Open fires, lots of mindless faces staring at the teev.

And just in case the pot failed to achieve, it was followed up with mugs of red wine. It's the only way Shane knows how to pour them.

We've been cooking. I've been cooking. I'm contemplating locking myself and Santo away at home for Easter and just cooking. Cooking the basics, spaghetti carbonara, risotto, lasagna, pumpkin soup, chocolate cake, lemon slice.

Easter eggs and bike rides, that's how I see Easter. Walking, talking, taking photos, doing iPads, eating.

Has any one eaten one of those creme eggs? The ones they advertise by splattering them against the camera lens? They just never give in, they are tough.

I've got to iron a shirt and go to bed. Repeat. Life's mindless. Bring on the holidays, two more sleeps.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Living The Stink, Living Is Dirty, Loving Is Wet And You Get It All Over You

It all just got a lot stinkier, murkier, started to smell. It got dirtier, filthier, more putrid, slimy. Cunt juice, prick fluid, slime down my thigh, down my leg, across my stomach, in my hair, matting it, sticking it together, in clumps.

You know, I kind of like it, want it, am used to it on me. I like that sweaty walk home, the cotton stuck to me, cramped in my pants, up my crack, across my balls, down my thigh, down my leg.

It reminds me to live, to get out there and mix, to be friendly, to mingle, to love and be loved. Love, you say? You laugh. It is love, loving, loving being together, love all over each other. It is a great way to make friends.

Getting the love, enjoying the love, lovin' the love, before you find the love, before you settle in love. You should taste all the love, so you know the love when it wanders into your life... wet and stinky and hot.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

When we'll have peace

When there is no gender, no orientation, no race, no war, no religion, no politics, then we will finally have peace...

Monday, April 18, 2011

I am the smartest person I know

It's a shame that I am the smartest person I know.

There is Josh... we've fallen out.
There is Tom... dead.
There is Anthony... damaged.

So, that just leaves me. Lonely of planet high IQ.

Oh, of course, there are Mark and Luke.

But they are moving away, damn them.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Thinking what to think

I find it so hard to think what I think. Hasn't everything been thought? You know, it's all just a rehash.

What's new, what's different, what's interesting? What's an original thought? What hasn't been fed to me by news agencies? What hasn't been thought before?

What do I want to do? How would I know until I have done it? How do I know?

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Chomping down for a whole 13 seconds

It turns out that Adam may have what the Americans might term "rage issues". Or he's been watching re-runs of Mike Tyson v Evander Holyfield on Fox Classics. Adam caused quite a ruckus last week in the CBD when he bit a street beggars ear, chomping down for a whole 13 seconds, according Brian, the tramp in question. The details are still hazy, as Adam is saying very little, but it seems that he had been so upset and emotional attending the funeral of his friend Vic that the only possible solution was to drink a bottle of vodka at the wake and start a fight with the nearest street performer.

Of course.

Brian apparently asked for change, as Adam and his mates passed by. They all ignored him. Brian asked again, to be ignored for a second time.

Brian then seemed to single Adam out and Adam seemed to take exception to the intrusion.

Hey presto, Adam was attached to the homeless person's ear with his pearly white choppers.


Friday, April 15, 2011

Liberal past and the more conservative present

The difference between the more liberal past and the more conservative present is,

once rules were meant to be broken, in fact it was looked upon as endearing,

now rules are meant to be obeyed, and woe betide the rule breaker.

I think the conservatives are winning.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

I tried to take a picture of a hot boy waiting at the lifts this morning, but a combination of him turning around and me not having the balls for such sneaky manoeuvres, resulted in this.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

She and I ended up at The End of the World bar

The number is 3068. Now, that's not a postcode, neither is it a street number, or even a phone extension, it is the anorexic bitches pin number. She gave it to me, in a stupor, when the pain wouldn't stop and her cash had. She couldn't really walk by that stage, so she said.
Sad really.

She and I ended up at The End of the World bar, drinking pints. Crying. Actually, she was crying and I was, ashamedly, enjoying it. Coaxing the full story out of her, lubricating the telling of it with beer after beer. She cried and said she'd be sticking her fingers down her throat before she went to bed and I got her another one.

Nice barman, his name was Lex.

She's got a pretty, more successful sister to who she doesn't speak. "Everything comes easily to her."
"Some people are lucky."
"Lucky? I hate her." She swigged on her beer. "But, she isn't as slim as me, he diet isn't as precise. She can't control her exercise the way I do. I've always had way better control than her. I have always been better..." She swigged at her beer again. " that sense." Some fluid spilled down her chin. She wiped it away with a flat hand.

Then I woke up. It was 5.50am.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Slippery morning

Santo and I catch the tram to work, as it is raining. It has been raining for days. What’s with that? I guess, I shouldn’t complain, you know, the drought was only a short time ago. How quickly we forget, but that’s hard when you are cold and wet.
We head off down to the corner shop to pay some bills... okay, I have to pay some bills, while Santo gives me one of his looks, which I skilfully interpret as, why don’t you have internet banking? He’s funny. He waits dutifully and doesn’t, actually, make a comment about my lack of 21st century technology. Good for him, considering what a techno head he is.
I’ve got him well trained.
Ha, ha.

As we headed out of the post office, Santo announces that we will catch the first tram that comes to the cnr, from whichever direction. “Okay?”

One is our usual tram, which we don’t normally catch, as we normally walk, which takes us to the front door of my office, two blocks from Santo’s office and the other tram would take us closer to Santo’s office.

“Okay.” As I agree, I see the tram – that we don’t ever catch – arriving at the corner. I feel I have been conned. I've got to be on my toes with my boy. Early in the morning, no coffee, the maths is easy.
You see, we usually walk to my office and Santo walks the extra distance to his. That’s how it usually works. Okay, always works. However, just lately, there have been a couple of mornings when Santo has headed off to work, on my days off, while I have stayed in bed, waving him good bye with kisses and, yes, smug looks. On these mornings, he has got to walk the way he wants to and alarmingly, it has given him all sorts of ridiculous ideas about equity and fairness and give and take on the walk to work. Translation – it seems I will be getting my way no longer. And we all know we hate that. Damn! He should never have been let out of the house unsupervised, clearly… I think as I’m heading off in the wrong direction towards the city, on the wrong tram, trying not to comment, as I was hardly occupying to superior position. You know, I always get my way, blah, blah, blah.

He looks pleased with himself, as he waves me good bye up the William Street hill.

I can't get the smile off my face all the way to work.

I'd go off him, I know, if he always let me get my away.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Why are we still hearing about the ADF drama?

Why are we still hearing about the ADF drama? Goodness me, so a few boys acted like boys and filmed some girl getting stooped by one of their own, broadcasting it to the select few perverts who were in on the act, it’s hardly earth shattering stuff. I don’t mean to lessen what they did, invasion of privacy and all that, but why does it have to be the focal point of the news for days and days and days and days? Couldn’t this have been dealt with by the respective powers that be? I mean, it’s hardly new, now is it? Dirty little boys doing stupid, ridiculous things, like they always have and probably always will.

Then it dawned on me. Of course! I can almost guarantee that the minister, Stephen Smith, was told to go hard on this, by the upper echelons of the Labour Party, to take all the heat off the government's unpopular Carbon Tax.

It's the equivalent of the Tampa chugging into Labour's muddied political waters.

It makes perfect sense.

So, really, has this girl had her case taken up by govt ministers who really care, or is she being used further as a pawn in someone else's dirty game?

Saturday, April 09, 2011

Gone to the country

Gone to the country, escaping the city - the clogged arteries and the crowded veins. You know, if it's not the tourists, it's the traffic they create. And those fucking cafe tables clogging the footpath.

Slipping away on a wave of enthusiasm, shaking off the cities cynicism for the fresh, open spaces and the crystal clear air of rolling paddocks as far as the eye can see. Breath it in, taste it's sweetness.

I love it when I hit the Caulder highway, just after the airport turn off, it signals shaking off the city and heading out into the big, open planes.

Friday, April 08, 2011

New toys to keep up to date with

Here I am on my new iPad, sitting on the couch with it on my knee.


I'm guessing I will get used to it, but it all seems very awkward and small. I'm used to a 21 cm monitor and a full keyboard, but I can put this in my briefcase and head off to work... yay.

That's the deal, that's the trade off for an undersized keyboard and a tiny screen...they say. Portability.

I can hook on to any one's available network. I didn't get 3G, because I think that's what "they" want you to do. You know it's not the revolutionary new amazing products that are the focal point here, no siree Bob! It's the monthly bill that "they" can attach you to... forever.

Suddenly, I seem to have giant hands, bigger than the screen. Ah!

I'm in the land of Zorb, I'm getting bigger and bigger and everything around me is shrinking... the intellect of the human race and all. Where will this stop? Where? When we are ginormous retards... oh... yes... already there...
... you know, when the master race of cockroaches looks back at this era they'll call us the fat and stupids.

Thursday, April 07, 2011

Jesus Christ! Not sex!

A female cadet says she was unknowingly broadcast on Skype having consensual sex with another first-year army cadet.

The encounter was watched by approx six other cadets, she said.

Why is this even a scandal? Oh please. Boys behaving badly. Why have we even heard about it?

Nothing really terrible happened it's only sex, toughen up princess. A third of the world can't access clean water, while a huge number of people are starving. People live in war zones and are dealing with death every day.

So, someone saw your tits and some boy sticking it to you. Big fucken deal. You'll live.

You know, I blame these conservative christian woman's groups who keep their dirty little christian back ground hidden by calling themselves The Woman's Network or Collective Something, all the time spreading outdated moralising and unwanted Christian messages by stealth, until, you know, anything dealing with "sex" is almost considered a taboo.

AH! Don't mention the S word.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure it isn't a nice thing to happen, but it is not a scandal. It is not something that the whole of Australia needs to know about, or have an opinion about it. There are far more important things, really.

Wednesday, April 06, 2011

There has to be a minimum level

I, for one, would be very happy for all of my tax dollars to go towards welfare payments, specifically dole payments. Is there a box somewhere on your tax return to tick?

I'm happy for people to live on the dole, Australia is a rich country and we can afford it. I'm happy for there to be a safety net for society.

I just thought I'd say that, while Tony Abbot is speaking for the whole of Austrlia.

Let's face it, there are many shitty reasons why people are on the dole, it's like compensation for the fucked up things that have happened in peoples lives to make them have to live on one hundred and fifty dollars a week. It's a way of evening out the wealth, even in a small way.

It just doesn't gell as a policy, having people who earn two hundred thousand a year kicking the poor and disadvantaged around to win political points.

It's the evil of free markets, people's lives are only worth while when they work for the minimum wage, to grow the economy, to put the food on the tables of millionaires, ultimately.

Tuesday, April 05, 2011

Bottom of the gene pool?

I don't know what all the fuss was about with the woman who drove her car off the top of a six story building and lived. It's just about natural selection, isn't it... or at least should have been, you know, if she'd been selected. I guess, not so naturally, hey?

A car. A six foot building. If you have someone who will drive a car off the top, accidentally or not, do you really want them to survive?
I mean, you've got to wonder.
I guess I'll get my karmic comeuppance, for those thoughts.
But it's still survival of the fittest, isn't it.

"You drove a car off a six story building," says God at the pearly gates. "What did you expect would happen?"
I imagine God speaks with a stutter, not sure why, as he rests his big doughy hand on the top of her flat head.

Monday, April 04, 2011

I thought that was nice

Mark says that Santo and I fascinate each other. I thought that was nice. He observed us over the weekend at Bolago.

The weather was gorgeous, blue sky, golden sun.

I spent the weekend, pulling weeds. I put Santo to work, next to me. He doesn’t like dirt, or soil, it scares him what creepy crawlies might be in it. Baby.
But, to his credit, he worked and didn't try to slack off.
He was bemused by my hourly tea breaks.
He was unhappy about my jokes about snakes.
We laughed. Drank tea. Pulled blackberries, piles of blackberries. "Ouch, sweetie." We were constantly emptying wheelbarrows. good thing we've got a hundred aches and a million trees to hide it behind.
I rolled joints... well, you've got to relax and be in the mood. It's the only time now that I partake, up the country (spoken with a Queensland twang). My friends think I'm wicked introducing Santo to dope, a nice clean living lad, before he met me. I tell them he is an adult... roll my eyes and sigh.
Secretly, I harbour a slight pang about it. But, he’s never turned it down.. He says that is all going to change. We’ll see.

Sunday, April 03, 2011

Saturday, April 02, 2011

Warning signing ourselves into oblivion

Hands up who thinks we are "warning signing" ourselves into oblivion? You can't fart without a warning sign popping out of your arse first.

Everything has a warning sign attached to it now, just to further enhance the climate of fear that we all now live in.

Friday, April 01, 2011

Shooting Star

Johnny was a school boy
When he heard his first Beatles song
Love Me Do, I think it was
And from there it didn't take him long
Got himself a guitar
Used to play every night
Now he's in a rock 'n' roll outfit
And everything's alright
Don't you know?

Johnny told his Mama,
"Hey, Mama, I'm goin' away
I'm Gonna hit the big time
Gonna be a big star someday"
Mama came to the door
With a teardrop in her eye
Johnny said, "Don't cry, Mama,
Just smile and wave goodbye"
Don't you know?


Don't you know that you are a shooting star
Don't you know
Don't you know
Don't you know that you are a shooting star
And all the world will love you just as long
As long as you are

Johnny made a record
Went straight up to number one
Suddenly everyone loved
To hear him sing his song
Watchin' the world go by
Surprisin' it goes so fast
Johnny looked around him and said,
"Well, I made the big-time at last"
Don't you know?
Don't you know?

A shooting star

Don't you know that You are a shooting star
Don't you know?
Don't you know that You are a shooting star
And all the world will love you just as long
as long as you are

Johnny died one night, died in his bed
Bottle of whiskey, sleeping tablets by his head
Johnny's life passed him by like a warm summer day
If you listen to the wind you can still hear him play

Don't you know that You are a shooting star
Don't you know?
Don't you know that you are a shooting star
Don't you don't you don't you don't you don't you know
Don't you know that you are a shooting star

Don't you, don't you know that you are a shooting star