Friday, February 03, 2023

Lots Of Rain

7am. Bruno and I head downstairs.

Sam, the handsome policeman, has sent me the details of the person who backed into my car. I must call her up. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, blah, blah, blah.”

Excuse me if I’m not all that forgiving. I have to go and get 2 quotes and then I have to take my car to be repaired and be without out it while that happens. 

Be more careful in future.

7.45am. Sam was up.

I read the news. 

Victorian Powerball winner $40 million richer. I read all about her reaction, and think she is sowing the seeds to the destruction of her life and she has no idea she is doing it.

An Echuca woman confessed her whole body went numb at the revelation she’d become $40 million richer after winning division one in last night’s Powerball draw.

The victorious Victorian winner held the only division one winning entry nationally in Powerball draw 1394 on Thursday, 2 February, and took home the entire $40 million jackpot.

The $40 million win is also the largest division one prize won across any Australian lotteries game in 2023.

When confirming her incredible win with an official from The Lott, the winning player confessed she was completely shocked by her new multi-millionaire status.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I can’t believe it. I thought it was a scam!” she exclaimed.

“This just doesn’t feel real. How do I know if this is real?!

“I’m so nervous, I feel really bizarre. My whole body has gone numb!

“My husband and I couldn’t sleep at all last night. We were pacing back and forth.

“I’m at work right now, and that’s why it took a little longer for me to answer my phone.

“This is really going to take some time to sink in. It won’t feel real until the money is in my bank account.

“My husband and I have these goals in place and were wondering how we were going to achieve them, but now we don’t have to worry anymore!

“I can’t believe this is happening!”

The Victorian might be spending her last days at work after announcing the windfall will allow her to quit her job and spend more time with her family.

“My god, I can quit my job!” she joyfully yelled.

“I can take some time off to spend with my family.

“We will be able to pay off the mortgage completely and set ourselves up for the future.

“We want this win to go a long way. We want to leave a legacy for our family for years to come!

“This means everything to me. Thank you so much.”

The winning PowerHit entry was purchased online at thelott.com - the official home of Australia’s lotteries.

The winning numbers in Powerball draw 1394 on Thursday, 2 February 2023 were 7, 35, 31, 2, 24, 21 and 15. The all-important Powerball number was 18.

All I could think was, stop talking, luv. The only way you are going to survive this win is to keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone.

And, I’d be good with it, I’d have the ability to tell no one. I would. I have an amazing ability to keep my mouth shut, when I need to.


February 3, 1959, the plane crashed shortly after takeoff, killing 22-year-old Holly, the Big Bopper, Richie Valens and the pilot Roger Peterson.

Porn actor John Holmes was ordered to stand trial for the so-called Wonderland murders on February 3, 1982. He was later acquitted.

Is Putin’s grip on Russia starting to slip? Some US experts thinks so.

That right wing Canadian deluded, Jesus lover, Jordan Peterson, is spreading climate denying propaganda.

How London got its first LGBTQ+ retirement community.


8am. I made coffee and porridge with fresh peaches. Sam bought, hard peaches not long ago, that have ripened into the most gorgeous fruit.

8.15am. Charlie was up. He made himself breakfast. Bacon and cheese covered rolls. He turned down the offer of leftover risotto for lunch. “I don’t think he likes risotto,” said Sam.

“Oh well, all the more for us.”

“I think he thinks it is too much like porridge.”

8.30am. I made more coffee.

Bruno was fed. He went out for a wee.

I fed the gold fish in the pond.

10am. It rained. Bruno stayed cuddled up next to me on the couch.

10.15am. I wasn’t going to waste the day, but I started to collected more Peter Hujar, Jim French and Christopher Marcos images. And once I start, I find it is really addictive. And suddenly the morning just drifts away. I really love brutal modern images of life all around us.

The sun tried to shine again. It came out, but it disappeared and it rained again really quickly. That was the morning on repeat.

Then it was11.11am, my hour of the day. And the sun came out brightly. And the morning had nearly disappeared. I got up. Shook my head. I should do something, I really should. I ran outside to gage what I should put on? Shorts. I charged upstairs and changed to take Bruno for a walk. I came back downstairs, I grabbed my shoes and socks, sliding them on quickly.  I got my head phones and my phone. I grabbed Bruno’s lead and harness and… and… and... I looked to see the rain started to fall again on the glass roof. 

I stopped in my tracks. “Damn,” I said out loud.

“Oh?”

Defeated.

I got back on the couch, threw the blanket over my bare legs, and Bruno lay down again on the part of the woollen blanket draped over my feet and the floor.

Sam was in a meeting and didn’t want to be disturbed.

I continued collecting George Platt Lynes and Leon Levinstein photos and Frederick Mershimer art works. Images I like, which I mostly use as wallpaper on my laptop.

All morning I have sat on my arse collecting antique photos. Yes, indeed, a productive use of my morning.

It really poured with rain a couple of times, really heavily.

12.20pm. We walk Bruno to the ramen shop for lunch. The rain had stopped, the sun had come out. I anticipated that the rain might stop long enough for us to eat lunch. Sam wanted to leave Bruno at home. I always want to take him to lunch.

Smith Street is wet, the rain falls softly.

12.43pm. We’re at the ramen shop sitting outside in the cold with Bruno, hoping it’s not going to rain too heavily in the foreseeable future.

The rain has now stopped. Lovely.

A black lab comes along sniffing Bruno’s arse in a stealth act before Bruno sees the Lab. Bruno jumps around.

12.47pm. The rain starts falling again. It’s really now too wet to sit outside as the rain splashes in on us under the awning.

12.50pm. The rain stops again.

1.05pm. We’ve finished lunch.

Sam walks ahead.

1.11pm. Bruno and I are waiting out the front of Woolies while Sam shops.

The black Lab comes out of Woolies and again stealthily sniffs Bruno’s arse again. Bruno jumps to his feet, but the Lab is gone.

Two super cute, blemish free, baby tradies, in shorts, and smooth, tanned legs, come out of Woolies. They’d cum as soon as you touched them, I think. They stand and chat with their smiley faces. I bet they’d both jerked off already today, I think.

A bleach blonde middle aged woman in a red puffer jacket, or was it leather, with a fake tan complexion who looked like she had smoked too many cigarettes in her day, stops and says how beautiful Bruno is. She must be a bit deaf, as she asks me Bruno’s name straight after I have told her. Then she asks me what kind of dog he is, again, directly after I have told her. It is a very odd kind of reverse echo.

A chick stands next to me and yaps into her phone and I am tempted to point out she is speaking on a mobile phone and that she could continue her conversation anywhere but next to me, but she finishes her conversation and heads into Woolies as I am contemplating what I might say to her.

Sam reappears at 1.18pm.

A German Short-haired Pointer and Bruno sniff arses outside Massina. Both us owners fain embarrassment as the dogs sniff each other’s dicks.

The fliers are starting to reappear taped to the power poles, I pull them all down again. Oh yes, mean old me. But I hate all those tatty flyers hanging off power poles en mass. On my kinder days, I look to see if we’d past the advertised date, just to be nice, you understand, but today I just pull them all down, fuck the dates. They are visual pollution, wrapped around ever pole in sight if I just leave them up, especially since the people who put them up, are never as diligent pulling them down as they are papering the poles in the suburb.

We’re home at 1.40pm.

The rain came down heavily. Then stopped again.

2.10pm. The sun shines brightly.

There are so many things I should be doing. House insurance. Call the chick who baked into my car. Quotes to get it fixed. Roof guy. Heating guy.

I think about all those things I should be doing for a minute, or two, and then, honestly, I get distracted again. Oh, fuck it, its nearly the weekend, nothing is going to get done now.

I was going to write stuff today, poetry, I was going to work on my poems, and I wasn’t going to save any more antique B&W images, but I saved the images and wrote nothing.

We ate leftover risotto.

We watched some kind of stupid American animated piece of shit called. Sing 2. Oh dear. It had good songs in it. It clearly had Bono on board to write music for it. But it was formulaic shit, really.

11.11pm. We go to bed.

I watched WatchJRGo and his S type Jag.

I watched Coldwarmotors and his 37 Chevy.

Lights out at 12.10am.


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