Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I'm a sick bitch.

David came in and caught me puffing on a joint.
"What are you doing?" Big eyes.
"Do you want to grow old, luv?" I visited my mother last Sunday in the home, where she was sitting gazing at the TV with her mouth open.
"Are we going to have to go to a funeral and a wedding all in this one week?" David asked sarcastically.
"Not anything you'd organise."
"What do you mean?"
"You and your flat earth ideas."
"I do not."
"You just call it something else."
"Oh yes, I'd be in there organising a nice Christian ceremony." Evil laugh.
"I know you can't be trusted."
"It will be amazing."
"IT will not."
"It WILL so."
Hocus pokus. "You and the other air heads."
"You believe, I know you do."
Oh yes, when all else fails we're back to that. 
"I tell you what, if you could find the priest who molested me when I was in the choir and you got him to preside over it."
"You're a sick bitch."
"You can do it."
"I can't believe you just said that."
"I don't know, it would be like tying up the loose ends." I chuckled. David took the bait. He started fanning himself with his hands.

Yes, it is the wedding this week. Very excited. Gay marriage, shiver.

I see divorce up ahead.

David told me I was a sick bitch when I told him that I was never molested, so that was how unlikely it was that I would have a pop-spiritual funeral. I'd come back and haunt the bitch. I'm a sick bitch? This is from a man who lets other men slide their arms up his arse. 

You're dead, you turn to dust. There is nothing else.

My "over all clever point" was that I have never been molested, so he will never be able to find that person, it was an impossible task. That was my point, anyway. Okay, so it might not have been as clever as I first thought it was, reading back over it. Maybe some people could, possibly, in this get-precious-over-everything society  we have become, get offended. Oh well, so what? Offence is a good way to exchange opinions.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


When is Big Brother Up Late coming back on? I wanna see Sam with his cock out. Bring back the naked showers, that's what I say.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

She loves me. She loves me. She really loves me

Oh bad me, I meant to call you last night. But I got chatting to Mark who has fallen over and broke his hand. He will be here on Thursday recuperating on my couch rather than painting my walls. I'll call you tonight.

Shane is up at 8am, lying on the couch under his bunny rug, talking about himself to someone on the phone. Oh the endless fascination with what he is doing. He dropped the volume and spoke in hushed tones while I was in the kitchen, like I could be interested in anything he has to say.

It was a beautiful sunny day walking through The Fitzroy Gardens.

I went out to lunch with Santo, to the M restaurant on Swanston Street and they took so long we ended up walking out before we got our meals. They said they were just busy, but the people who came in after us had got their entrées and mains, when the waiter came back and said there was no coconut rise and did I want plain or chicken. We waited ten minutes after that and then we left.

Jack called and told he’d found a replacement for the next job, the Woop woop job. (my boss) told him everything was going fine and that that was good news. I must never say yes to jobs which involve driving to the great unwashed. I'm much happier here amongst the drug addicts and the hookers reputation of the inner suburbs, let me tell you.
So, I guess she must like me after all, my boss. The thought that she didn’t think much of me quite nerved me, more than I would have thought.
Am I being paranoid. I can’t take criticism at the moment, maybe I’m the narcissist? I don't like her much, it is true, what do I have in common with 4 year old's birthdays way out east?

Subject: he he
I’m staying here until the end of September. I’m not going to Woop woop, it is official

Subject: he he
Lovely C … I had beef skin and it’s slimy

Subject: he he
It’s not always about me.

Subject: he he
No no no… told you so!

Subject: he he
But it’s not

Subject: OMG!
All I can say is that thank god I have Friday off, I’m exhausted!

Subject: OMG!

Subject: OMG!
Oh honey, I was expecting, pat, pat, pat.

Subject: Pat, pat, pat
Pat, pat, pat?

Subject: Pat, pat, pat
Really? It’s only Tuesday

Subject: Pat, pat, pat
I believe I should get pat pat every day, Tuesday or not.

Subject: Pat, pat, pat

From lovely me… I give good pats J

Subject: Pat, pat, pat
From lovely you… because you give the best pats

I came home, it was almost a balmy night. I bought cigarettes at Mitty’s. As I took my change, I saw 2 million on Oz Lotto, a hundred thousand dollars for twenty years, that would suit me just fine, so I bought a ticket.
Shane left his pot in the desk, so I took some. Well, he left it out. I was just going to roll one joint to smoke as I drank my tea outside on the wicker chairs while I spoke to Anthony, about his suspect stroke.

Anthony sounds fine. His doctor is cross he didn’t get in an Ambulance and get to hospital when it happened.  He went when he got the use of his hand back. He’s been for tests and depending on what they say there could be more tests. He says he feels fine, still with a slight weakness in his hand, he finds signing his signature difficult.

I made toast and muesli and retired to my bedroom for Big Brother. The Big Bang Theory and The Expendables (2010)

Monday, September 03, 2012

Chuckles Doesn't Like Me

When I got into work my IT account had expired. Chuckles, (my boss), said she would ask, Ebony, (the HR girl) to fix it. Chuckles told Ebony to make it active to the middle of September, when I go to the next job in woop woop.

I knew she had talked with Jack, I’m going to woop woop, she wants to get rid of me.

I made mistakes again, oh bugger. Of course, I blame Chuckles. A part from her rather dour personality, it is the piecemeal fashion in which she allocates work that is a problem.

Funnily enough, I think the mistake, which she picked up this time, was one that she, herself, made that I saw she didn’t save, which I didn’t mention, I thought fuck her. Is that karmic retribution?

It is no surprise to me that her former offsider left one day and never came back, sighting continuing illness.

Sam and I ate Indonesian, under the brain tumour building, for lunch. The house of beef skins. What is it The Tivoli Arcade? It is a nice break in the middle of being Chuckles-ised.

I’m sure Chuckles doesn’t like me. She said to someone on the phone,

“I’m flat out. No, she is still away. Yes, I’ve got a temp, but I’ve got to train them. Maybe it will be better next month.”

We practically sit next to each other and she says these things to whoever down the phone receiver as if I am not there. Is that passive aggressive, or what?

I know, it is unfortunate that I am not telepathic and I couldn’t just arrive knowing all of your procedures. She is one of the few people I have worked for who thinks training is an inconvenience?

First of all I took the phone call as a good thing, she’s talking about me being here next month. But then I realised, next month will be better because, maybe, I would have been replaced by then.

I wonder if the pot is making me paranoid? (Except, I don't think it makes you paranoid, it just feels similar to the feeling or paranoia) She’s just a bitch. Let’s ask her husband who she berates down the phone as if she loathes him.

I had leftover curry to eat and port wine jelly with oranges. I disappeared to my room and ate it.

I forgot the jelly.

I smoked pot, I wrote in my journal, I watched Big Brother. I watched Underbelly.

I ran down stairs and got the jelly when I heard Shane leave the house. He left the light on and he didn’t take his car, I knew he wouldn’t be long. He hates to be on his own.

I watched some porn.

Sometime later, Shane arrived home with someone, I couldn’t place the voice, although it may have been Mark W, I don’t know. Shane talks loudly and all you have to do it stand on the upstairs landing and you can hear what he is saying in the lounge room.

“You see, I have to do something to get myself out of here.”

It sounded more like the self focussed Shane talking about his big adventure, more so then leaving the viper’s nest. I could hear he was in full swing about himself.

I decided I couldn’t even be bothered eavesdropping and went back to bed to watch teev and fall asleep.

I decided, I couldn’t pinch his dope any more. It is so easy to get cameras. Jill showed me one the other day that she had bought that looked like a clock, which sat on the shelf. She wants to spy on her cleaner.

Oh could you imagine the humiliation?

Sunday, September 02, 2012

I think Shane is a narcissist

I woke up at 7.45. I was awake, I knew it. I got up made coffee, lit a fire and rolled a joint.

Then I saw Anthony’s message on Facebook, it was probably from last night, I left my computer on and signed into to apps, but I thought, what the hell.

I've got a fire burning and the cat and I are drinking coffee

No answer, not the offer of sending my message as a message, he must still be signed it.

Up early rolling joints, I left Santo sleeping. He didn’t even wake up and make his morning whale noises reconnecting with his pod. It’s boring behaviour, I know. Santo finds it boring. I should be able to have just two joints in the morning and then maybe a couple in the afternoon. But know, I just have to keep rolling them like a loony. It doesn’t even make sense, as Sean said, you smoke yourself straight again. It’s true. Those fifth, sixth and seventh joints are only diminishing the experience anyway. They actually lessen the affect, I’m sure. So, you know, it should be easy to have pot and then just have one morning, lunchtime and afternoon, it should be easy, considering that, probably, is the recipe for enjoying the stoned feeling more.

Santo is up at 9.30am. He catches me with an actual joint between my fingers. I hand it to him, he screws up his nose when he puts it to his lips, instantly, as it has gone out. He hands it back to me, waving it away with his other hand.
He makes toasted cheese and olive. He steals Shane’s olives wrapped tight and hidden away at the bottom of the fridge. As he is cutting them up, he says it feels good to steal Shane’s olives.
“Tastes good too,” he says as he reads this.
We make six slices.

Santo rubs my ears.
Missy lies on the couch behind us.
Santo pats my head.
It is a gentle day.

I open all the windows and smoke another joint. My sister will be here in an hour and so many people have said that when I open the front door to greet people, I am so often followed by a strong gust of marijuana smoke. They have said it is like a tsunami.

We went and ate burgers at Grill’d. Lovely they were too. The sun is shining, it is a beautiful day.
We wandered back to Woolies in the afternoon.

Your Cat drinks coffee ! My Cat wont eat off the floor food must me on a China plate and water is drunk out of a China cup. The strangest cat we have ever had. love A

Well, strictly speaking it was me who was drinking the coffee

I wonder if September 21st is the date Shane is getting married?
I can tell you I was disappointed when he gave a December date. My sister came and I gave her my loan account number for the transfer, I officially don’t need a housemate any longer. I thought it was going to work out just perfectly, he’d make a dignified exit in three weeks, not three months.

I think Shane is a narcissist.

Hotchkiss' seven deadly sins of narcissism
Hotchkiss identified what she called the seven deadly sins of narcissism: [6]
[6] Hotchkiss, Sandy & Masterson, James F. Why Is It Always About You?: The Seven Deadly Sins of Narcissism (2003)
1. Shamelessness: Shame is the feeling that lurks beneath all unhealthy narcissism, and the inability to process shame in healthy ways.
2. Magical thinking: Narcissists see themselves as perfect, using distortion and illusion known as magical thinking. They also use projection to dump shame onto others.
3. Arrogance: A narcissist who is feeling deflated may reinflate by diminishing, debasing, or degrading somebody else.
4. Envy: A narcissist may secure a sense of superiority in the face of another person's ability by using contempt to minimize the other person.
5. Entitlement: Narcissists hold unreasonable expectations of particularly favorable treatment and automatic compliance because they consider themselves special. Failure to comply is considered an attack on their superiority, and the perpetrator is considered an "awkward" or "difficult" person. Defiance of their will is a narcissistic injury that can trigger narcissistic rage.
6. Exploitation: Can take many forms but always involves the exploitation of others without regard for their feelings or interests. Often the other is in a subservient position where resistance would be difficult or even impossible. Sometimes the subservience is not so much real as assumed.
Bad boundaries: Narcissists do not recognize that they have boundaries and that others are separate and are not extensions of themselves. Others either exist to meet their needs or may as well not exist at all. Those who provide narcissistic supply to the narcissist are treated as if they are part of the narcissist and are expected to live up to those expectations. In the mind of a narcissist there is no boundary between self and other.

Santo made curry, with chicken and ochre and beans and potatoes and rice.