Monday, December 31, 2012


Happy New Year

What a beautiful day, just gorgeous. The sun, the breeze. I had to wear a t-shirt, like some old nana, when I went for my swim. "That's it gran, cover up the sun is mighty powerful." 
Too much sun and swimming all week, I am beginning to feel the sting when the sun hits me. It is the curse of fabulous pale skin.

Still, the water was just perfect, once I got under.

There is something magical about a fresh country river. There is a certain tuning into the earth, a feeling that we are all one entity, ashes to ashes, of the earth. I always feel that. It is the silence, apart from the wind, apart from the splash of the water, apart from the call of a bird.

I've taken lots of photos, but I only have an iPad with me and it refuses to upload anything into blogger. Oh we'll.

It is the perfect temperature, for shorts and t-shirt... you know, up near Byron. I've worn one pair of shorts all week.

It is Tropical Fruits tonight, so we'll see how the temperature holds out, nudge wink.

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Lazing Around in our Bliss

We swam in the river for the afternoon, with our own beach, lounge chairs and shoes to protect our feet from the scattered rocks on the river bed. The sun shone down brightly, my skin may have a red hue, I can, perhaps, wince, feel it.

Sam can't swim, so I taught him to float. He mastered it quickly and then he just wanted to practice floating on his back, beneath the dappled sun light spread across the surface of water, which sparkled in full sun light. Just his face showing... like he was learning it, catching up... very pleased with himself. I love it when he smiles like that.

We went to see Les Mis last night at the movies, at the local multiplex, in the nearest, biggest country town. Everyone was scrubbed up nice and shiny and they all looked over exposed to vitamin D. Fresh. New. Corn fed.

I didn't really care for the stage play that much, despite seeing it several times, but the movie I liked, it made all much clearer. Yay. (Perhaps, I could be a philistine after all?) Russell Crowe was 
stupendously awful, (editors note - his voice was stupendously awful) but apart from him, the rest of them were good. What were they thinking when Russell Crowe was cast? 

How cute was Marius, though, not to mention that amazing voice.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Soft and Green


I'm sitting on the veranda over looking the rain forest just in front of me. It is still, early. I could reach out and touch the trees between my finger tips. It is beautiful, a cacophony of green. The frogs, I think, are croaking. There is a lot of bug noise anyway, over yonder... like ringing bells. The birds are singing. They are, kind of, chattering like monkeys, actually. Some birds call with a beautiful whistle, some squeak, some squark, some sound like a drop of water falling. I'm waiting for the giant lizard thing to crawl onto the veranda and demand her maggots, with trepidation. Nobody else is awake. Will she eat me? It is beautiful here. Lush. Remote. Wet in the air. Vividly green. It smells like a river bank. Mossy tree roots, dissolving. Bracken. A carpet of leaves and twigs, damp, soft, like wool slippers. There is mist on the furthest mountain tops, floating above the tree tops. 

Tuesday, December 25, 2012


Up Up And Away Xmas Day

First up, was Lunch with my brother and sister in the country Xmas day. It was the first time Sam met my brother and his wife, and my nieces. He didn't even seem to be nervous. I used to hate the first family meetings, well not hate, but I was certainly nervous before hand. I think I have always had low self esteem... Kind of.

Anyway, my sister had enough Santa hats for everyone to wear, my only question was who has an infinite number of red pointy hats trimmed in white fur? Apparently, my sister. I could get mine to stand up like a giant red cone. It is a skill.

Funny old families, everyone's got one, for better, or for worse. I like mine.
I got a Leung book, some Danish biscuits and Sam got chocolates. The food was good, the usual fare, it's something you can rely on in life, one of the few. Death. Taxes. Good times.

Then it was back home and off to the airport for a plane ride to NSW. The hinterland in northern NSW.

The plane took off and I opened my obligatory car mag and started to read. Two hours, I thought. Yay. I had felt tired earlier before we left for the airport. So I lay the magazine down and the next thing I heard was, blah, blah, blah, we are now preparing for our decent, please put you seats to their upright position. Its a skill. Lovely.


Friday, December 21, 2012

The last party

We had the rest of Guido’s crystals to do.

And a good time was had by all.

He, he.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Lunch Date

I'm off to have lunch with Sam in the city. I didn't seem him last night, it was one of the nights he spent at his place. So, I'm off to have lunch with him, so I don't miss him too much. Lovely, isn't it.

I think we are eating Korean. Yum.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Changing Weather

What a change in weather. One day it is hot, hot, hot, the next day it is humid and overcast. I'm sure it is messing up my moods, has to be. I'm sure it is detracting from my holidays, bound to be. My holidays? Do you like that? Sam asks me when I'm not on holidays, if I ever mention that to him. Ha, ha. Usually, accompanied by "that" look. Tilt of the head, raise of the eyebrows, mouth pursed just so.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

And The Sunset In The Dog Park Was Glorious


It Was A Glorious Day

It was a glorious day, sparkling, shiny and I had nothing in particular to do. The sky was blue, radiant, glorious. So I headed out with my camera. I had lunch in Carlton and ended up lying in the park in Lygon street, falling asleep for a while, staring up at the blue sky. Lovely, really... well, so Sam said, you know, those of us being stuck in the office all day.














Monday, December 17, 2012

Anthony in ICU

Anthony ended up in ICU in an induced coma in a bigger hospital due to the pain he was in. That was last Thursday, the day after I saw him. It was hardly surprising to me, even if it was a little shocking to hear, as he'd been in great pain when I had seen him and he hadn't looked really good. I was about to go and visit him with Sam when Mark called.

Of course, there was a flurry of messages backwards and forwards. How could this happen? Everyone was really worried. Please, please be okay.

Apparently, he has just been bought out of it today and is conscience for the first time since last week.

He had a tube in every orifice, which are slowly being removed. IV drip, catheter, nasal feed tube, the works.

I spoke to him today. 
"Well, haven't you got yourself some attention?"
"Haven't I?"
"Look at me, look at me."
"Like the best of them."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Much."
"Do you know what day it is?"
"No idea."
"It must be lovely?"
"Like a clam."
"Or a plate of them?"
"Indeed."

He says he has to watch his diet.

"So, it is tofu and mountain water from her on out."

"Sadly, yes," he agreed.

Of course, I was meaning that the alcohol will have to stop. No more pissed before lunch.
I guess he knew what I meant.

"When do you get out?"
"I have no idea. I don't even know what day it is, remember?"

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Poppers

I was reading about Amyl Nitrate, or as the Americans, but not the Australian's call it, poppers.

Apparently, amyl nitrate was made illegal in Australia a few years ago, because "the powers that be" thought that had to protect the users from themselves.

So now the manufacturers have gone to another nitrate, I think it is called brutal nitrate, but I may be wrong, it is another nitrate none the less.

In true political style, read stupidity, "they" outlawed amyl nitrate,  from adults who chose freely to use it, which was essentially harmless to the user, for it to be replaced by another nitrate that is suspected of being harmful to the users eye sight.

When will politicians learn to keep out of people's private lives? They are not here for social engineering, they are here to balance the books.

Friday, December 14, 2012

The Cat's Turn... Well, So She Thinks

My cat is really insistent about lying in the middle of the bed and making herself really comfortable. It is as if she is saying you got that other guy, meaning Sam, and you got the slobbery mut, meaning Buddy, and when the two of them aren't here, like last night, she is going to make the most of her turn.

Ah, long legs... and... big paws. 

I tried to slip into bed next to her, late last night, but she wasn't moving a millimetre, not an iota. So I had about 30 centimetres to lie in. She just looked at me with slit eyes and dug her claws into the doona, literally, as if to emphasise that she wasn't moving at all.

Na! Tonight, this is all mine.

You see, she doesn't get to sleep on my bed any more since Sam came along, he doesn't like her on the bed and besides there isn't room for the three of us to stretch out. And now that Buddy is here she doesn't get to sleep in most of the rest of the house either. So, her life has changed quite dramatically in the last few years. Where she once had free reign of the house, sleeping on my bed every night, now he world is greatly diminished.

She just looked at me as if to say, I'm not moving, not a fucking chance.

So, thinking about it, what does that mean? That I am, in fact, at the bottom of the pile? It is what is looks like to me, in her pussy cat mind. I feel kind of guilty for ruining her life, so I don't insist otherwise.

So, I lay there on a quarter of the bed, wedged between her and the wall, trying not to be restless so as to disturb her. I even tried to breath shallowly, so that wouldn't disturb her. She purred loudly, as I squeezed my shoulders together, as though she had won.


Jack called today and offered me some work miles away, way down south where they all spit on the ground and have eye twitches. I told him that it was too far and he offered me more money per hour so I reluctantly accepted. Then he called back and said that the client wanted me to work 6 days, Xmas Eve included. I told him I couldn't work Xmas Eve despite the fact that I told him I'd only be unavailable from Xmas day. Damn! He went back to the client. It is all true, I am going away Xmas day and I am unavailable Xmas Eve, I just didn't tell him because it never occurred to me that he'd, anyone, would ask me to work the Monday of Xmas week. Sam said I should call him back and say I'd do it, until I told him it was Xmas Eve as well. Jack called me back later and told me he'd got someone else. 

He thanked me for the work I'd done all year. He told me that all the clients were happy with me.

I guess I should be happy with that? 

I guess I am.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

The boy with nice eyes and sexy legs... and light bulbs in his hands

I got all my light globes changed today. Yay!

It was a hot day, really hot. Blisteringly hot, me and the bulldog were spending a quiet day indoors on YouTube... you know, as you do. Who is it who doubts global warming? Who? When we are getting these frighteningly hot days. Okay, frighteningly hot may not exactly be the right expression. It is enough for me to ignore calls from Jack with work, however. I couldn't get dressed up in work clothes and go out into that. Okay, so the cat shedding is enough to make me ignore calls from Jack, okay true. But it is still fucking hot, none the less.

Latish in the afternoon the doorbell sounded. Actually, it made the strangled, half hearted, giving up on life kind of noise it has been making lately as the batteries are flat, the kind of noise, I am sure, I've been making lately.

"Blartttttt."

I don't need to listen to carefully, or pay too much attention, as the bulldog scampers off to the door whenever anyone is there.
He's funny, he comes and sits next to me and all I have to do is rub him gently on the top of the head and he leans in against me and then he slides to the floor... but, I digress.

Standing at the door was NZ Paul wanting to replace my incandescent light globes with the more environmentally friendly new type. I think I was a little, unexpectedly, dazzled by his beauty, so naturally I said yes.

Of course, splutter, splutter, come in? (Am I going to regret this when I have white light blazing through my house... which, just by the way, I didn't)

He had beautiful eyes and a nice smile and it was hot so he was wearing shorts and he had nice legs. When he reached up to change the light globes, his t-shirt rode up and his undies showed above the waistband of his shorts and yes, I looked. Nice it was too.

And I have new globes throughout the house.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Really cool Veedub


Anthony is in hospital

I've just been to visit Anthony in Maroondah Hospital. He called me this morning to tell me where he was. So, I got in my car and headed out there to surprise him. I was going to buy him a flower, some terrible thing from 7 11, just because the thought amused me, but in the end I didn't, I forgot.

He told me a week ago that he thought he had pneumonia and I hadn't called him since. I left him a message yesterday, 

"I'm a bad friend, I know, if you are not dead call me." Ha, ha. 

I didn't really believe the pneumonia thing, I wasn't sure. Anthony has had a touch of the hypercondria about him, since he went nuts in the naughties. Twice.

I'm not exactly sure what is wrong with him, as I had to pump the info out of him, he wasn't very forth coming. An inflamed pancreas, apparently, maybe caused by gaul stones, he was told this morning, or maybe caused by alcohol. 
I smiled down at him and tried not to smile too broadly. Alcohol? Considering he is often pissed just after breakfast, my money was on that. But, he takes it so seriously and he didn't seem to know why he was in hospital. Shrug. Who would know.
A wine chaser with your cereal? doesn't that kind of give it away? You know, just a wild guess? It doesn't give you a clue? at all? Really? Nothing?

When I got there, the doctor was trying to find a vein to input a drip to feed him. The curtain was drawn. Apparently, all his veins were collapsing, and the IV wouldn't catch. (I don't even really know what that means? How can a vein collapse without you dying? Or losing a limb?)

I headed down to the cafe for junk food, yum yum, while the doctor punctured Anthony's arm. Stab, stab. I congratulated myself all the way for having quit smoking again last week. Did I tell you? Last Monday.

Fuck hospitals are awful and I must remind myself to be healthy to stay out of them, every time I want to relapse. All that faded cream paint work and pale blue accessories. Yuk!


When I got back, Anthony was catheterised and attached to a drip and was in immense pain. He wanted a cigarette, but couldn't go as the drip was now in his foot. The nurse offered him patches and I tried to encourage him, but he declined grumpily.

It was an altogether unpleasant experience for me, so you can imagine how he must be feeling. Terrible, by the pain etched across his face. I had to leave him, as he wasn’t really able to cope with me being there.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012


So? Why did she kill herself?

I don't get the whole 2DayFm prank call drama. I've just listened to a recording of the phone call itself, and the 2 DJ's barely said anything to the nurse Jacintha Saldanha. She pretty quickly put the call threw to another nurse who gave out Kate's details.

I'm pretty sure I've got that right, that I listened to the full recording and not some edit. The nurse in question answered the phone and then transferred the call. It made me think, is that really it? That's what happened? If that is it, I think it is kind of weird, all the fuss that has been made.

I just don't get it? It is as if the whole world wants to have a drama about it. It is as if common sense has been abandoned completely in favour of sensationalism.

If that is it and I do, in fact, have it right, I'd say that the prank call had very little to do with the nurses' suicide.

Poor thing, she hanged herself. Threw a rope over a roof beam, or something and stepped off the stool. Crack! What was she thinking? No really, what was she thinking? Two kids 16 and 14 now don't have a mother, over a stupid news story that we will have all forgotten soon enough. The world has a 5 second memory for such things, no really it does.

Kate will give birth to the new royal baby and the 2 DJ's will be working on radio somewhere else, no doubt, and the newspapers will be reporting the latest scandal with reknewed relish, who David Beckham is up, or what Charlie Sheen has put up his nose and when, if, the name Jacintha Saldanha is mentioned, most of us will ask, Who? I know that name from somewhere? No, don't tell me, I'll get it in a minute? Give me a clue. It is sad, cruel really.

I guess I don't get the whole suicide thing really. No, I do get it, it is your life, end it when you want. But really, my warped sense of humour would stop me. Once that rope went over the beam and came thudding down to the floor again, probably bonk on the top of my head, I'm sure I'd laugh and think, You twat. Or, if I had the pills in my hand I'd probably think, Oh how Marilyn Monroe do you really want to get. Or something. I guess, I just don't get depression.


So why did the nurse kill herself, when she, really, had very little input into the whole thing? I'm not really sure. It is a very sad thing, however.

Friday, December 07, 2012


The day before it is a million degrees

It is hot today, actually, really hot. Tomorrow, it is going to be a billion degrees and the country side is going to burn like hades, so say the (never exaggerating for ratings) news outlets.

It was 12 degrees on Wednesday and tomorrow it is going to be 39 degrees, even for Melbourne's notoriously changeable weather, that is extreme. Global warming anyone?

I just didn't realise it was going to be hot today. I might put on shorts and a singlet and head out into the sunshine with my camera... you know, before the world burns tomorrow.

I've put my camera battery on to charge. I guess I should have a shower, you know, start the day clean. Ha ha, it is already what? 11am.

The bulldoggy is lying outside in the sun, pity he is impossible to walk on a lead, otherwise I could take him with me. But, no. Sadly, no. Into your kennel fat boy and keep the barking to a minimum, you don't want to upset the mentally challenged just beyond the fence.

It really is a lovely day, don't get me wrong. I need a skateboard and a pair of Raybands and a Husky to pull me through the city on my photographic mission.

Wednesday, December 05, 2012


Who'd Have Thought An Arab Boy With Fat Fingers Could Be Considered Sexy?

My lovely, bear, hairdresser put smelly goop in my hair at the end of the haircut. Splosh, splosh, just like that. And then he sprayed me with cologne. Squirt. Squirt. Yuk. WTF? Why? Shouldn't he ask first, before he does that? 

Funny how I just sit passively and say nothing. He can't even see me cringe. Silent as a mouse.

He's never done that before? I think someone must have told him to upmarket the service. Oo! I stank all night. Pppff! Shake of the head. Sam told me to go and have a shower, as I smelt like a bedouin brothel.

My hairdresser still touches me gently with his fat fingers, like he is massaging my skin, or testing to see how I feel, or just enjoying the thrill of skin on skin. I still find the way he touches me so gently to be kind of erotic, when I close my eyes and it is all I can feel, his finger tips, my skin. I'm sure he has a "quiet thing" for me. I reckon, he does, you can sense such things, don't you think? The energy is different.

A fat Arab boy... who is kind of sexy in a fat, cute way. He is. I reckon he'd look like Homer Simpson in his Y-fronts. Adorable. I like him. He has a nice smile and a really gentle way about him.

I checked myself out in the shop window as soon as I left the shop. Smith Street pulsed gently under the weight of footpath diners eating and drinking and smoking and laughing. Trams rattled and "ding dinged", and the deros asked for money, 

"Got any change, bro?"

I gazed in the shop windows, at my reflection, adjusting my t-shirt with a flex of my shoulders... and smiling, tugging at my fringe gently.

A gentle afternoon, I think. I love this, wandering around the shops just when I feel like it, nothing to do in particular, except to please myself. Free as a bird.

Then it strikes me again. Wow! Is this sustainable? This life of mine? Will there be a price to pay for this one day? Maybe? Shrug. Who cares.

Tuesday, December 04, 2012


Feeling Good

I'm off to have a haircut. I always feel better after a haircut, don't you? It always makes me feel fresh, new and clean. There is always something refreshing about it. Maybe, it is all that attention focussed on you? The single focus of another man's attention falling down upon me from the head down? Maybe? Shrug. I just know I like it.

I've had 3 cigarettes in 3 days, that is not too terrible, now is it? But today, I'm not having any. This is it, quitting day.

A new haircut will sweep out the bad habits and make everything new and clean again. 

Big breath in... I am now a nonsmoker. Ohm!

I've smoked since last weekend, too many indie movies with guys puffing away on cigarettes sexily. Stupid, isn't it. Actually, it was the film Ice Men that made me want to smoke. All those hot men with cigarettes in their mouths.

I had not smoked since the Thursday before Melbourne Cup.

I had smoked, before that, on and off since the end of September, when Mark came down and influenced me to smoke. No, it is not his fault, I am the only one to blame. Blah, blah, blah.
Stupid, I know... but, no more.

Monday, December 03, 2012



Monday Morning

A little Randy Crawford playing softly, my bulldog snoring at my side, my cup warm with coffee, and a handsome boyfriend at work earning the money to pay the bills, lovely. 

Ha ha, I'd hate that, to tell you the truth, someone paying my bills. No thanks, that would just make me feel nervous. I have to be in more control than that.

My boyfriend doesn't have to do any thing more than be handsome... and sweet and nice. And, of course, kind. He needs to tickle my feet from time to time.

Sam tickled my feet this morning, I slid them out from under the doona and he ran his finger tips over the, yum, yum. He's lovely, my Sam, have I mentioned that lately?

Sunday, December 02, 2012

Let's See What Happens Next

I went to visit my mum with my sister Roz. We headed out there early, as my sister had a lunch date to get to afterwards.

I told Roz about my problem with the neighbour. She was on my side, of course, I am her little brother, after all. She was off to meet up with all her lawyer buddies, just coincidentally, who she studied with at uni. She said she would mention it to them, she said she thought that two of them would be able to help me.

So, maybe I'll have a team of lawyers, should this progress any further. My sister and I thought that it probably will, as my neighbour is not rational, she is not taking into account what the laws are, she is just seeing it as an issue that disturbs her. And stupidity seems to run the world now a days, from most politicians and their short term agendas, to climate change deniers, to fear and lies that news services sell.

The council has ruled there is no problem here, almost by the entries on my neighbour's own log. She, herself, noted that there were four days where my dog didn't bark at all.

"We are not interested in pursuing normal dogs that bark like normal dogs do," were essentially the words of the nice council man.

I'd like to say to the neighbour, "I realise you think that the world revolves around you, however it doesn't, the world doesn't work that way." Obviously. But, you know, that is the downfall of the stupid people, today. I guess it is not always the downfall, but certainly the mistake.

Okay, so "stupid people" is a little harsh, you think. So, what would we call it? The 21st century self focus. That modern day self interest? The "me me me" times? I don't know, it is hard to qualify. People think of themselves as the fabulous stars of their own revolving universe and people who put their hands out to interfere with the spin, have to be stopped?

In reality, my response will be a dignified silence. I've told Sam and Shane to say nothing, to give her nothing that she could note down and use against us. If I have to, and I hope it doesn't get to this, I will let my lawyer(s), he he, speak for me.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Good morning


Easy Friday

Oh, nice and cool today. I drove to Bundoora without a thought. Out to zone 2, without a worry and I made it back too. There are lots of trees out there and lots of shopping centres and car parks and wide roads with median strips down the centre. Lovely.

An easy ride out, an easy ride back, midday to 1pm, and my days chores are complete.
Lovely.

I'm sure one day I will probably regret my work ethic, but right now I love it. Maybe I wont regret it too. I've pretty much got everything I need. I few replacements each year and I'll be sliding towards pipe and slippers. Even if a friend of mine did point out that I am, actually, only half way through it and that I, probably, have to do the same number of years over again. I could probably do with a new car, as mine is now over ten years old, but there is nothing wrong with it. I could buy a new one if I wanted too, I've got that much in the bank, but I don't want to.

I could be dead tomorrow, especially if I don't give up the ciggies.

Besides, who wants to get really old anyway? I see my mum at a ripe old age, her brain and her bowels gone. Who wants that?

I say less work and more play, that's what I say. Stop working so hard people, I'm pretty certain you don't need all that stuff.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Anthony Called Today

Anthony called today just to check up on me and Buddy, to make sure we were cool and staying out of the heat.

"Oh yes, nice and cool here."
"Goodo."
"I'm not working today."
"Good for you! You don't want to go in for that nonsense."
"No luv, I don't."
"It is ridiculous this outdate work thingy, we're just not made for that sort of carry on."
"I reckon I have just about done enough in my life anyway."
"Me too. Absolutely!" Anthony hasn't worked for years. "I just don't see the point to it."
"No, me either. Always chasing after the idiots who are too stupid to get anything right. Fixing their mistakes. Who needs it?"
"Oh yes, I hate that. Morons, nearly everyone of them."
"Apparently, they have three people doing my job now back at the black law firm."
"I just don't know how this country survives with the number of idiots running the ship?"
"I hope they go down..."
"Well, apparently the permafrost is melting and it will be the end of all of us..."
"Not before time."
"Hear, hear!"

He'd just seen a petshop van with my dog emblazoned across the side, as he'd made his daily trip to the shops. (Well, I guess, you have to fill your day in somehow) He'd come around the corner and there was baby bulldog staring back at him.

"So, I thought I'd better call."
"It was a sign," I offered sarcastically. Thinking that is exactly what David would have said.
Anthony knew exactly what I meant. "Oh yes, some such nonsense, I am sure," said Anthony. He laughed his easy laugh. "And if you can make a living out of it, reassuring the gullible that their lives mean something, all the better."
"Money for jam..."
"Happy schizophrenia, luv. Spiritual guru by day, filthy, drug taking leather bottom by night, letting god knows who shove god knows what up her arsehole, good luck to her. I just wish I had the energy." He laughed again.

Anthony always cheers me up. I don't know, it is something about ex-boyfriends, they don't have to bother with the small explanatory sentences, we just know what each other means, quite simply. Chat chat, laugh laugh, the world is fucked, aren't we lucky we are in the position we are. Let's watch from our superior position as they all slide into the abyss.

I baked some sweet pastries and brewed some coffee. And I wonder why I am getting fat. Ha ha! They were good too. Yum, I thought, as I reclined back on the couch and nibbled on the edge of a pastry and sipped my coffee. 

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

I Hadn't Heard From David

I hadn't heard from David for sometime. I wasn't exactly sure how long, but it seemed like a while. Sam mentioned it last night as we were driving back from the dog park. Just when I seemed to be thinking about him, David called this morning.

"Well, hello," I said. "What have you been up to, matey? Long time no hear?"
"I have been enjoying the delights of a new arsehole."
"Pardon?" I said. I expected him to say a lot of things, but not that.
David laughed uproariously. "Yes, I have met someone who has been keeping me very happily distracted, thank you very much. And it is very nice too."

Apparently, he went to the "Trough" party last week, which is where he met the new guy. So, apparently, you can meet someone nice at a filthy poofter party.

"So, what star sign is he?" It is the first question David always asks, so I couldn't help myself.
"Oh, don't ask," he said.
"A Picean?" I know that is David's least favourite sign. They just swim away David has said in the past. You think you have them and then they just slip through your fingers.
"No... a Torean."
"Oh no." I told him about my ex-girlfriend, Leah, (I know two Leah's, the current one and the ex, are you keeping up?) who is also a Torean who has turned into a judgemental bitch these last few years and who I have now written off as a friend.
"Yes, well, let's not go there," David said.
"It will end in tears," I said.
"You are such a bitch," he replied.
I laughed uproariously.

Then I went and ate lunch in Smith Street. I sat out on the footpath and ate under an umbrella, it was quite lovely. I'd just like to thank the hot guy in the blue shorts who wandered past several times. Baggy blue, that fit nicely around his slim waste and which followed the curves of his muscular lags. Very nice mate. You've got to love summer.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

The Council and Buddy

My neighbour - I'm not sure if I want to use neurotic, or toxic - over the back has complained to the council about Buddy barking. 

So, I met with the nice man from the council. He said he'd come in the morning. He arrived at 9am. My mate Anthony and I laughed about it later, 
"Who arrives at 9am," said Anthony. "It is inhuman, for god's sake."

Buddy ran to the door before I could stop him. I mean, not that I really wanted to stop him exactly, but the doorbell rang and he was gone and I was left running after him. He can be a bit of an excitable puppy with new people at the door and I wanted him to be on his best behaviour, of course.

He was at the door wiggling with his little tail wagging, when I got there. I opened the door, thinking hear we go, and Buddy stepped out on to the front veranda and greeted the nice man from the council, with his cutest bulldog face.

"Hello, you're beautiful," the man said. He looked at me and said, "He didn't bark then."

"No," I said. "He doesn't bark alot."

I gave the council guy my story. He was just following procedure, as they have to. We sat in the lounge and the Buddy won the council man over with his adorable bulldoggy ways.

He showed me her log. I showed him my log. My log contradicted her log on several days. She'd put down that Buddy had barked for minutes on some days when I knew he'd barked 6, maybe 8 times. He was asleep on my bed in my room on one occasion that miss neurotic said he barked. I disputed the five minute sessions she claimed he barked for.

"I don't think bulldogs can breath well enough to bark for 5 minutes straight."

We both laughed.

"Essentially, we are only interested in dogs that bark incessantly, or continuously. We are not interested in dogs just being dogs, we understand that dogs do bark. Her log itself shows us that he didn't bark for 4 days at all. We are not interested in pursuing this case. We sometimes have to speak to people about the reality of living in the inner suburbs and we think this may be one of those cases."

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Saturday, November 24, 2012

I Can't Breath


Leah came over for a sleep over, arriving some time around 7pm. She bought the pot and we rolled joints furiously, as we seem to do when Leah is around.

Sam cooked rice noodles. We were watching the TV and I’m not really sure exactly what happened, I laughed and coughed at the same time with a mouthful of food. A noodle when down the wrong way and I gagged on it. It seemed to stick in my throat. I choked, I coughed and the noodle blocked my air passages completely and for a split second I couldn’t breath, I could get any air at all. Nothing.

I’m sure that the picture of the lounge room that was in my field of vision began to fade. I seem to remember it going an unusual shade of green, just slightly, as if a filter had been put over it.

“I can’t breath,” I whispered.

I still couldn’t get breath, a second later, nothing, breathing in and there was just nothing.

I think it dislodged enough for me to get breath as I stood up. Leah was good and told me to breath through my nose and I could get breath and the panic subsided, despite it still feeling like the food was lodged in my throat.

It seemed to take quite a while for the food to clear, even though I could breath okay. There was a small worry that the food might shift again and block my air passage again. I wondered if I should go to hospital? I coughed and spluttered and tried to make myself vomit up the food, something I have never been able to do, not even with my fingers down my throat.

I guess it was frightening, I'm not sure now, it all happened so quickly.

Sam, of course, blamed it on the mega amount of pot that we had smoked. He said next time that we shouldn’t smoke the huge amount of pot that we had smoked. Mari, as he puts it, is always to blame according to him.

Friday, November 23, 2012

What a Mess!

I had to work, euw! Three days, Friday, Monday, Tuesday. Well, I guess I didn't have to work, the truth is I chose to. And all the way there - a fifteen minute car ride - I said to myself, Why? Why? Why?

I was sent out to another not for profit organisation. What a mess! What is it with not for profit organisations? What a mother fucking mess! I love it (that is sarcasm) when they just quickly discuss what it is they want me to do, when in that brief discussion, followed by a sincere smile, the true magnitude of what it is they want me to do becomes clear. I usually clear my throat - read check the exits for an escape route - and say, Can we just run through that again?

Ahh! You want me to do that in 3 days? And there was some sort of problem with the computers and they weren't operational until lunchtime. Ahh! So, Monday and Tuesday should be fun. Not!

And all the time I just think I am just becoming a winy pants, as Santo would say.

Good thing my buddy Leah came for a sleepover and we smoked pot until the wee small hours just to forget what mess is waiting for me on Monday.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

That Great Aussie Tradition of Taking a Sickie

Sam took a sickie today, (look of surprise) he is lying on the couch behind me on his iPad, with the baby bulldog resting his fat face on Sam's arm. 

Oh yes, it is my influence, bad me. He doesn't want to work any more. He wants to retire, like he says I have. Even if I'm going to work tomorrow, Jack finally caught up with me. I'm working 3 days, how will I cope? I ignored his calls for 2 days, but he called yesterday when I was feeling more like talking.

Sam now says he hates the salt mines, and that work is pointless and they are all cunts! Oh, cringe, who does that sound like?
But, you know, it must be hard going to work when your boyfriend sits at home on his fat arse, his most taxing responsibility taking the dog to the doggy park, I understand that.

Anyway, enough of that, the sun is shining, the sky is blue. Apparently, we are heading to the phone shop to buy me a new phone. I see it as tightening the ties that bind me to 3. I really wouldn't be dashing to the phone shop to get a new phone that I really don't need just because my contract is up, but the camera on my phone is shit, really shit, and I do like taking photos... so a new phone it is.

Yay!

The beautiful, talented people

Tuesday, November 20, 2012


All better

He's a much happier bulldog today, just in case you were wondering. He bounced in the door this morning all customary wriggles and snuffling, giddy with excitement, bending his face around to his arse, like a banana, and then back again. 

He's straight up onto the couch. He likes his comforts.
"Get off!"
Then he is back up onto the couch, as I am telling him off for the first time.
"No, get off."
But, he looks me in the eye and he heads straight back up onto the couch again, as I am telling him off for the second time.
"No."
Then it is a paw up on the couch, as we eyeball each other.

So, pretty much, back to normal.

We're off to the dog park, the sun is shining, the sky is blue.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Sick puppy

I've got a very low energy bulldog today. He's looking very droopy about the mouth... ha, ha. He's different, changed, something seems wrong with him. 

We still head down the dog park and he does spark up and run around, but not for long, not like usual.

If I was paranoid, I'd think someone might have given him something, some woman who thinks he barks too much, for instance.

I got movies and watched them all afternoon. Oh yeah, I still don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I still haven't figured that out, so I figured a little celluloid relief couldn't go a stray.

I watched Animal Kingdom about the underworld. It's the movie that got Jackie Weaver noticed in Hollywood And Ice Men about a group of hot straight mates who go away for the weekend, which was very homoerotic.

At 18.30, when I am heading upstairs for something, I could see something was on the front doorstep. There was a bag and a note.

"Thank you for keeping the dog inside, I really appreciate it. I baked you something as a thank you."

I immediately thought, you poisoned my dog and now you are taunting me.

Buddy lay quietly all night, very quiet. He was very sleepy, he hardly moved. And at one stage he stood up and vomited.

The thing is that I haven't kept him inside at night not at all, not for one night. I tried to tell her that bulldogs are low bark dogs, however... Oh well, it is good, I have her notes for if it was ever escalated to some authority.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Stressing. Perhaps "They" Were Right? Perhaps I Am No Good With Conflict

Oh I'm stressed out about the neighbour, not that I have heard from her in the last few days.

I've put the dog outside and sat in the lounge room for hours watching TV and not a sound from him.

I've typed on my laptop until the wee small hours and nothing, not even a yip.

I've come down in the middle of the night, 3am, on several occasions, and sat in the dark for a few hours determined to hear him bark, if he barks, and not a sound.

All I've heard him do is a very characteristic bulldog snore from his kennel.

I spoke to my neighbour directly next door and while I didn't ask about his barking specifically, she asked about him in such glowing terms she clearly isn't a neighbour who is kept awake by a dog barking.

I spoke to Jackson, my other neighbour and he replied, "I didn't even realise you had got a dog, mate."

I'm nervous when I put him outside at night. When I am in bed I think every noise is a dog barking.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Whiny Pants

The neurotic chic next door and over the back is apparently hysterical and completely strung out. Her housemate came to speak to me. According to her housemate, she is highly strung and overwrought, at the best of times, but with the bulldog barking for 30 seconds in the night, she is about to lose her shit. Apparently, she is in tears and can't work. The inference is that the housemate can't live with her in this state, so she has come to plead the neurotic's case.

"Can't he sleep in side?"
"No, he can't sleep inside," I said. "He has his kennel and a part of his job, be it a small part, is to guard the house."

And tonight, I get a note that he barked at 4am and please can't I keep him inside over the weekend, as there will be lots of street noise which he will probably bark at.

Neither of them are listening. No he can't sleep inside, I have told both of them that... just because he might bark, literally, once, by their own admission, woof woof, in the night.

It is funny how it is only behaviour modification for our house which is suggested. According to both of them, Miss Neurotic has trouble sleeping at the best of times and yet, it would seem, never has she considered behaviour modification on her part.

If she is so highly strung and so easily strung out by any noise in the night, why doesn't she consider ear plugs (or therapy, or pills) (or... a... long dive off a short cliff, no, I don't mean that). Several of my housemates have used earplugs in the past. It is called inner city living. She works from home and presumably, she doesn't have to get up at a specific time to go to work. And I believe the problem she has is her problem of an inability to sleep, which is the main problem, sure Buddy isn't helping, but I don't really think he is the main problem.

I think maybe I might buy some earplugs and put them in her letterbox.

I have spoken to my other neighbours today, without specifically mentioning if the dog barks or not, and they have all asked after him, telling me how lovely they think he is.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Floating

I like walking down my quiet street and closing my eyes as I head along the footpath. It gives me a sense of space and weightlessness... defying gravity, kind of thing. There is a certain recklessness to it, safe recklessness, pussy recklessness, sure and a certain trust in the unknown, in my remaining senses, all at the same time. I can almost feel them pulse the moment my eyelids slide shut. It feels cool, kind of like floating, or drifting in time and space. There is that sense of gliding, skimming through the air.

Floating. Close your eyes and jump. Take the leap. Let go.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Most People Just Hope It Stops The Child Abuse

George Pell welcomes the enquiry into child abuse in the Catholic Church, as he hopes this will stop the media smear campaign of his church.

That must be one of the greatest pieces of spin I have ever read.


I thought the Catholic Church was here to minister to the faithful, and to tend to the poor and to guide the disadvantaged and to give… oh, ah, no, apparently, I was wrong.