It’s a beautiful sunny day. What to do? Sam seems keen to do something. I’m a lazy bastard though, of course, I'm happy to do nothing. We all know that. But, I'd better do something, I've learned that too, just do, you can always be lazy later. There is always later.
Should we go to the dog beach in Altona? We'd talked about that recently. Let’s hope it’s different to the Brighton dog beach, which always feel is a bit like a slightly out of control Wild West. I look up details for the Altona dog beach, it’s not clear if it’s restricted at this time of year or not. I find which beach is restricted but that doesn’t seem to be the dog beach. Even though the blurb for the dog beach does say it has certain restrictions in the warmer months, I can't seem to find it. Suddenly the beach seems too hard. Go all that way across town and then can't use it when we get there, ah no.
So, we decide to head down to the river, take a bucket of balls and throw them on the grass. So, we get in the car and head to the Yarra. The new bike path, while it seemed to have very little movement there for a while, has certainly progressed now. The whole raised path is nearly all the way up the river bank embankment.
We throw balls around until midday. Brun is always keen to keep throwing balls. Otto eventually goes and lies in the shade under a tree,
There are gay boys with French bulldogs. There are lesbians with Puggles. There are all kinds of Oodles, whichever type they are. There’s a couple with a picnic blanket and food with cattle dogs, who look like they are trying for something romantic. There’s skinny, sickly looking yuppy types with Jack Russells, no doubt vegans. Ha ha.
Then we go do some grocery shopping after that. Brun, Otto and me, er, I lay around in the entrance to the shopping centre on the cool black tiles whilst Sam shops. The sun shines in the street beyond the canopy of the shopping centre entrance. People stop and say hello to the Bulldogs, many people stop. I write my journal.
The three of us sit on the floor together.
Pretty soon, Sam reappears with bags of shopping. We head to the Asian grocery across the road where Sam does some more shopping. A mother walks past with a pram and her two sons in tow, one of which has his focus glued to his phone, so much so he doesn't see the dogs until the last minute with a start.
We head to the butcher. The last stop is the banh mi.
Then it’s time to head home. The day just sparkles as we head to the car. It is really quite lovely wandering back up the street to the car.
We eat pork rolls, when we get home. We take lunch home for Charlie. Then we eat a fancy chocolate dessert, which is really too rich for our own good, and drink coffee to wash down the rich chocolate taste. Then we lay about rubbing our stomachs.
And then we just relax for the rest of the day.
Still, two more days to go of the long weekend, makes me smile.
We did discuss America's new piece of shit president, of course, you can't get away from it at the moment. His compulsive lies. His unmitigated cruelty. Him walking away from the nothing but verbose promises he made. We're still completely baffled how someone, who tried to steal an election he lost, and when his attempts to steal it didn't work, he organised his thugs to attack the very seat of American government he craved to stop the real winner from being certified, can be put into power in the next election. Are American's that stupid? It really is the only logical conclusion the rest of the world can come to. Really! Stupidity? A failure of education? What else can we all think?
Sam is fascinated by Elon Musk's Nazi salute. So, we talked about that a good deal of the time. Musk backs far right political parties in Germany and Britain, amongst other places. His family, allegedly, has a history of Nazis. And yet, some conservatives attempt to write it off as some kind of awkward twitch.
I think it's probably because he never had any friends, and now he'll do anything to maintain his word wide audience. He really is just a sad little clown deep down, it would appear. I can't help but see him in Pierrot clown's makeup whenever I look at him. You can't help but think that everything he does is a sad cry for attention. Look at me! Look at me! I wonder how long it will be before he flames out, or is locked away in an institution, probably rehab, but could easily be a mental hospital.
When I got sick of all the political talk, I listened to one of Marcia Hines old albums.
I watched crazy Karen YouTube clips. I don't know why they are strangely satisfying, but they are. And when I really enter into the waste of time olympics, I get into road rage videos. How to let the afternoon roll away swiftly on the couch watching morons and halfwits.
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