There's No God

 

Surely, if there was a god, I'd have one of these, I'm a nice guy, I'm nice to all the people I meet.

Music

I wondered if such a strong, primal voice as Nina Simone's would get into Mark's consciousness being played across his land. You know, float on the air to him, or something.

I hoped it might. Funny the places your mind goes to when you are grasping at any possibility.

I guessed I'd have to take it to his hospital room.

Then I thought today, I might play him music in his hospital room, as he lies there out to it, hooked up to a multitude of machines.

Sing It, Nina

I listened to Nina Simone all day. Cottage door open, her dulcet tones floating off across the rain forest. Sun shining. It is a small slice of paradise here, it really is.

I wasn't going to work, I told Boris that this morning. But then she phoned me sounding pathetic, and Mark's brother and sister were visiting Mark, so I was letting them have their time, so I wasn't working anyway, so I told Boris I would work, and I worked all day.

This Is A Terrible Turn Of Events

Mark is really unwell. I am holding my breath. We sit vigil in his hospital room, I guess, waiting for any sign of improvement, no matter how small. There has really been none so far.

Two Hour Flight

I'm getting a plane to Northern Rivers, as the doctors don't know if Mark is going to make it.

I'm numb.

I get a flight leaving 3 hours later. Sam booked it for me. He packed me a bag and ordered me an Uber.

I am at the airport in 2 hours.

The sun is shining and the sky is blue as I walk out to the aircraft.

Sunday Screen Day

I should have gone to the gym today, as I never made it Tuesday, so I only got there for one day this week. It's not enough. I'd say my bad, but I want to kill anyone I hear use that stupid expression.

But, I didn't get there. I intended to go, but I didn't. You know how it is.

We went walking early. It was actually a great day for walking, as there was a fairly strong breeze, which I love. I love the wind it makes me feel alive. And it sure made a change to yesterday, blowing away all the heat and the sweat and stickiness, right out of our, er, souls? Hair? Saturday? I dunno, but it made a nice change.

Then it was just couches and screens, you know how it is.

It deluged with rain, like a torrential storm, the only type we seem to get now a days, climate change anyone, then it died off as if it was over. Then there was a lull where we all caught our breath watching the street gutters expel the run off. Then it poured with rain again, rain drops bouncing off the ground like bullets. Then it stopped and the sun came out brightly, sparkling and glistening on the rain drops hanging off everything.

Mark still isn't really coming good. He's not getting worse, but he's not getting better either. What does that say about post-operative infection? I don't know. Everyone is staying positive. I wish I wasn't 1600 kilometres away. I should have gone. Cross your fingers.

Hot Day

It was hot today, what can you do when it is hot? You know, when the air feels like soup to breathe in, when it almost feels solid when you walk out into it, when it hits you straight away.

We washed the dogs, that's a good hot day activity. All of us under all that water, it is a nice place to be, except for Otto who still hasn't got used to the shower raining down on him. So, a jug poured over him, many jugs poured over him, does the job. 

Then we took them walking so they dried off in the sunshine. Much easier than trying to towel dry them. And it's not so suffocating as drying them with a hair dryer in an enclosed bath room.

And when it got really hot, we hid inside away from the heat. Both of us sprawled out on a couch each, Brun and Otto lying wherever they like.

That was Saturday. Over too quickly, as Saturdays always are. Over to fats. That day, for me anyway, that is an oasis in the middle of other days off.

Friday

I got my lazy arse to the gym today. That's once this week. That's once last week. It's not enough. I must go more often. I don't know why I can't, I don't find it hard once I am there. It's just getting my shit together and getting there. (It literally only takes a short walk)

I was pretty much the only one in the gym. The cute instructor was boxing when I got there, but he stopped almost immediately after I got there.

I did take the dogs for an hours walk on both days, so that must count for something, I guess. Although, they are more about sniffing and pissing than they are about exercise.

My ex, Mark, has made a slight improvement. At least that is in the right direction. What else can I say? It is still a waiting game, it would seem.

Hospital

My ex-boyfriend, Mark, had his gaul bladder removed, actually, in the end I don't think he had it removed, I think they did something to make it better without removing it.

I think it was keyhole surgery, and not the full slice open.

He got an infection after the surgery, which developed into an infection in his blood.

He has been really sick with it, from all accounts struggling to get better.

And for a time there things really didn't look good.

Well, that was last week.

Then they did another MRI and they found that he had some sort fluid retention around, or behind, his pancreas which kept expelling liquid intermittently reinfecting him. Or something.

This week he is in ICU, but they now think they have him on the right treatment.

Cross your fingers.

Oh, boy, he is my best friend. I can hardly breathe when I think about what he is going through. I can't imagine losing him. The greatest guy. And he lives so far way, the Northern Rivers, so I can't just drop into see him, and sit with him, by his bed.

Bored At Work

It was really slow work wise for the last three days. I don't know if that was due to my superior work ethic? Ha ha, do you like that? Or is it just the natural slump after the Xmas break.

Oh, I don't know.

I'd worked on the new remunerations for the company, as exciting as that sounds, but those around me don't seem to have pulled their fingers out of their Hoo-ha's, as yet, and that's all seemingly gone on hold, not that that effects me any, as my work is done. Signed off. I had the hard bit, the rest of them just have to impart the information to the people. It just puts off the inevitable changes I have to do when all of my internal clients realise the mistakes they have made forcing them to come back to me and give me their individaul sob stories. I can hardly wait...

Anyway, enough of that. 

I got bored and decided to research modern graphic gay movies, ones with nudity and good sex scenes, real movies, not porn, which there seems to be plenty. I bought eight movies spending just over $200. Lovely.

Being 17, You & I, Shank, Red River - that's the classic in the collection - The Prince, Broken Sky, Acrobat, Horeseplay, The Blond One, and Free Fall, mainly because of the two confused, handsome, blond, straight guy, main characters

That's quite a lot of foreign language movies, as I like them to be real and true to life. I don't want a whole lot of camp guys zhooshing about, no thank you.

Anyway, they should all arrive in due course.

Sam is going to Japan with his mum and dad in April, taking them on holidays. And I'm going to have a gay movie marathon. Lovely.

Will & Harper

We watched Will & Harper 

Will Farrell goes on a road trip around America with his friend of 30 years Harper Steele who has just transitioned as a trans woman. Harper used to travel the length and breathed of America before she transitioned and this would be the first time since transition that she would return to those places apprehensive that she’d be able to visit the same places now.

It's uplifting to hear someone's story of finding happiness in their lives.

It is such a shame that trans people are being used as the political punching bag by conservatives. What business is it of anyone's other than the trans person and their family and perhaps their medical people. Conservatives who really have nothing in their lives other than what? A multitude of lies that make them feel better about themselves, failing christianity and some strange belief they'd rather be living in the 1950s.

Just Call Me Warren Buffett

I was going to buy some shares, but I hesitated when some of the reviews I read said they'd done their rise in value by then. So, I didn't buy them. I checked in with them a few days later and their value had risen above what I would have paid, so I panic bought them, which is never good, I know that, but half as many as I was going to buy originally. And the moment I bought them, their price plunged back to the original price I would have paid for them if I hadn't hesitated. So, that was good. 👍 Another success story.

Just call me Warren Buffett.

Still, their value could still come back, even though half as many aren't really going to do me much good in the end.

I don't know, hopefully.

Climate Change

Climate change anyone.

Last Saturday it was 40 degrees, hot and sunny. This Saturday we have the open fire burning, as it is wet and cold outside. 

I still don't know why us humans aren't taking the imminent demise of our species by climate change seriously. The evidence is there for us to see on a daily basis, practically.

In this instance, we had a fire just because Sam took advantage of the cool day to burn off all the cardboard/paper debris that has been thrown into our fireplace over summer. 

But then, my pyromaniac instincts are lit up whenever I see flames and I couldn't help myself but to go and get all the rubbish bits of wood from the wood delivery 6 months ago, that we will never burn otherwise, and throw them on the flames to keep them burning. 

I tell you, if I had slightly different brain chemistry I'd be masturbating, a match in my other hand, as fires take a hold of the bush in the country at the hight of summer. 

None the less, the change in the weather is dramatic.

Brave New World?

You know there is no such thing as ‘woke.’ Other than being a conservative political construct.

No, it doesn’t exist.

Anybody fighting against ‘woke’, or saying the world is too ‘woke’, is essentially saying, I want to be able to say what I want and to discriminate against whom ever I chose. They are really just saying, essentially, I am a bigot.

If you don’t believe me, ask any one of the Everything-is-woke-brigade to define what they mean by ‘woke.’

In fact, if you don't believe me, tell me what 'woke' is yourself.

No white person will be able to give me the same definition.

The, actual, original meaning of being woke, that is before the conservatives comandeeered it for political gain, is when Black people become aware of social and political issues affecting them in the world.

That is the, actual, meaning of woke.

Happy Friday

It's been a lazy kind of day.

I took the dogs for a walk. I went and bought some stuff I needed, eye drops, chemist stuff.

We ate curry chicken for lunch, after which I lay on the couch not intending to do anything else for the day.

However, Sam has now asked me about going to the gym several times in his inimitable style, you know that way that only a partner can ask you about something they clearly think you should be doing, so finally I am off to the gym.

Wish me luck.

Going For A Walk Early In The Day Is Always Good

 

It was nice walking early today before it got hot. Mornings are magical. It was forecast to be 37 today, it got close to that, but I don't think it quite made it to that. Good to get exercise over first thing in the day, it makes you feel good for the rest of the day.

Okay, That's Not Good

Boris calls me in the morning. "Has anyone from the office spoken to you today?"

Instantly, I think I am being sacked. What does that say about me?

In the next instant, I think this is about my non-compliance with the going into the office as now required.

"No," I say. Probably nervously. I don't know, I don't hear myself.

It turns out, she is calling about our beloved boss. "The PooBah has a brain tumour and is as we speak being operated on in an emergency operation."

"Oh, that is terrible, poor PooBah," I say.

"Are you okay?" asks Boris.

Am I okay, I think? What? Oh yes, of course, that is the part we are playing. I mean, seriously, why would I be emotionally devastated by this. I like our boss, but I don't have the brain tumour.

"It is a great shock to all of us," says Boris.

I must play along, and I switch into concerned colleague. "Oh, poor [I use his name, of course] that's awful. Yes, I'm okay," I say. I almost feel like a fraud saying I'm okay.

"It is very serious," says Boris.

Serious for our boss, not so serious for us.

Apparently, the company has hired a psychologist, or someone similar, to attend to any of us incase we are over come with grief. 

Seriously, I think. "Oh, have they, well good to know," I say.

"The Midget is now in charge," says Boris.

Oh god, The Midget in charge, now I need counselling. Little Miss Humourless. Now she could insist I comply with the current in the office requirements. Damn, I think.

A short time later, HR calls to tell me officially.

"That's terrible news," I tell FatBoy from HR.

"I don't want a new boss, the Big Poo is a great guy," I say.

"Yes, our prayers are with him," says FatBoy.

He's going to need more than you stupid prayers, I think. "Yes," is all I could manage to that.

FatBoy reiterates various counselling programs the company has put in place. He says something about prayers more than once.

I thank him and finish the call.

I wonder what this means about my non-compliance with being in the office. The Big Poo had been pretty lenient towards me up until now. The Midget isn't likely to be so lenient. Damn, I think, again.

Everybody loves our big boss, he is kind and funny and good at what he does. He is always interested in all of us.

How about that, you never know, now do you. He is uber successful, he has a happy family life, and kids who, from all accounts, are exceptional like him and successful.

He is sporty and healthy. He goes overseas and does triathlons in his down time. He was supposed to be on holidays OS this week with his wife.

Okay HR, Your Help Won't Be Required Any Longer

I sign into work at 6am. I read Sydney HR manager FishFace's whingie emails first thing. More senior legal Sydney woman - what is it with senior Sydney legal women, I ask you? - pissing their pants over practically nothing.

Those expensive hoo-ha's pissing out liquid into their nylon knickers at the slightest affront that they feel. I imagine it as a scene from Little Britain.

They must be so rung out with the battle ground of our northern neighbour city that any little thing is likely to trigger them and set them off as monsters.

And then they can be as dumb as a box of fucking rocks with any explanation they receive.

To be fair, sometimes they can be as sweet as a kitten with a little sweet talking too, but so often it is the other.

I don’t think anyone is all that nice to them, in the pig fight that is Sydney.

And, of course, our love-a-good-drama HR team plays right into these entitled woman’s sense of outrage. HR throws petrol on the fire, not water, always in a self-aggrandising effort, to make themselves look better.

So, the first thing I do is cut HR out of any discussions I might have with those who feel wronged. You know, get rid of the super girl drama queen element, isolate them, make it one on one. And then, you know, I can fake sincerity better than just about anyone else. 9 times out of 10, I win them over and kind of jedi mind trick them out of any sense of having-been-done-wrong-by just by being even handed, and drama free. Calm, steady voice.

This is not going to hurt. Trust me. See, what did I tell you, pain free.

And I get a "thank you Christian," from the apparently enraged Sydney professional, once HR's drama queen input has been removed from the situation.

Easy.

Now, wiping my hands together, another fire storm put out. How they cope with making important life decisions, I will never know.

The Substance

We watched The Substance, it was fullon, quite a movie. Quite the imagination the writer had. It's not really my kind of movie, traditional horror movie, but I liked it none the less.

David bought it over. He raved about it. I'm not sure I would rave about it. David is in Melbourne for a few weeks servicing his sycophant base.

Demi Moore lauded for the work she did in this horror movie. She won an award.

It is kind of following in that tradition of the horror maven for actresses of a certain age. Not sure what that says about roles for older females having not changed any over time.

It was worth watching, it was well done, and kind of interesting.

Car Jacked

A friend of mine was at a western suburbs shopping centre. He had just got back into his car, having started it, when a group of youths pulled out a machete and he got car jacked.

"Get out of the car," the youths said threateningly.

He got out of the car and just said, "take it." He didn't argue. The car has more insurance than I do, he thought. And the three youths jumped into the car slamming the doors in front of him.

Now, these youths clearly didn't know their cars. My mate drives a brand new Honda Civic Type R. This car looks super sporty, and it is, it is a really hot car, but all Honda Civic Type R's have a manual gear box.

The car's gear box made a terrible grinding sound. The car kangaroo hopped forward and stalled. They re-started it and it kangaroo hopped forward and stalled again. And then the youths jumped out of the car and ran off with their tails between their legs, leaving all the doors open as if the car just vomited the rats out of it.

They couldn't drive a manual gearbox. 

My mate was laughing as he was on the phone to the police.

"Best laugh I have had all week," he said. "No really, it was the funniest thing. Idiots!"

Saturday

What did I do today? I don't know? I think I was discombobulated from working Friday. The week just doesn't seem normal. It wasn't normal.

And the weather turned cold, which was kind of disorienting after all the heat we've had. Where in the seasons are we?

It was just a weird day.

We walked the dogs to the shopping centre and Sam did grocery shopping. Brun, Otto and I sat in the centre entrance, me with my back up against the shop window, writing my journal, holding their leads. Then we bought pork rolls and bought them home for lunch.

That was about it.

Then we did screens sprawled on the couches for the rest of the day. We ate sesame balls and drank coffee.

Nyr!

There is the big, gay street party tomorrow. At the end of our street.

Life goes on.

Otto wants to play ball for how many hours in the lounge room after dinner? He wouldn't stop playing ball in the lounge room after dinner, if he had his way.

Friday

I worked all day. What can I say. Sad Face. Yeah, sure, I did work. I kept myself busy all day doing all those things I needed to get done.

I played David Bowie all day. Lodger. Tonight. Never Let Me Down. Let’s Dance. Scary Monsters and Super Freaks.

Whenever I work Fridays, I kind of feel cheated with only a 2 day weekend. It just feels unfair. It just doesn’t feel like a good work/life balance, having to front up only two days later.

The weather was good. Mild. Not Really hot. I took the dogs for a walk. And for the rest of the day, Otto lay at my feet. Brun always heads upstairs with Sam and he lies at Sam's feet.

I hope Boris had a nice day.

I didn't go to the gym. I should have gone to the gym. Why didn't I go to the gym? I should have taken an hour and half and gone to the gym.

I fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV. I slept there for most of the night. It is the best thing. Seriously. Who doesn't love falling asleep on the couch.

Then I lay in bed, when we finally went to bed, tossing and turning thinking I wouldn’t sleep after all the sleep I’d already had. That means it took me more than 5 minutes, and probably less than 10 minutes to fall back to sleep.

Do I Want To Work?

I have to work tomorrow. Nyr! It seemed like a good idea at the time, you know, be nice, say yes, be a team player.

Ah! Fuck that shit! I don't want to work tomorrow. I must learn to say no to Boris, I don't care if she has to go interstate for an appointment she just has to keep.

And now when it comes to Thursday night, I get to thinking, I don't want to work tomorrow. What was I thinking?

Today, I took the dogs for a walk early, I made lasagne for lunch, I sniffed around the shops while that was cooking, and I lay on the couch for the afternoon and did fuck all, full of lasagne.

I would much rather be doing that tomorrow than working on my day off. I don't need to work extra days. I've just got to stop being so nice.

Running For Our Lives

I put on Marianne Faithfull's Child's Adventure and get to work. It is a great album.

I'm pulling the week together, even if Boris has got me to work Friday.

Yeah, sure, no problem, I say to her when she asks me about working Friday.

No, fuck off, don't make me work extra days, I think to myself.

But, what can you do. Be a team player, as revolting as that expression sounds, it is the easiest way to work. Such awful truths, I think, almost with shame at my own passive niceness.

Lord Voldemort Dutton

There is a current political ad where Lord Voldemort Dutton is sitting with a young girl, looking down at her smiling.

My mind can't help but go to a kind of flashback, flash forward, I guess, where fangs suddenly protrude from his mouth and he suddenly bites the little girl's head off.

He looks at the little girl like he is hungry. (But then, with a face as ugly as his reading emotions is dificult)

It's a metaphor for what he'll do to the country with his opportunistic Trump'esque conservative ideas. He'll bite the head right off equality and progressive Australia.

Marianne Faithfull

I feel sad about Marianne Faithfull dying. Silly really. I saw her sing live twice and she was great.

I've been listening to her music for the last few days. Of course, I haven't listened to it recently much lately.

I forgot how much I love her music, you know, as you always do. Life is busy.

Voldemort Dutton

I've been watching I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here. Wow! and I tell you what, you can tell the federal election is in it's way with the sheer number of Voldemort Dutton ads on in the ad break. They are really pushing his ugly face. Oh that, and his terrible conservative identity type politics devoid of policies.

Peas In A Pod

They do like being together

 

Out & About Early

I like being up early, I find I love the newness of the early morning more and more. It feels new and safe and unspoiled.

Today is a hot day coming up, in fact there are 3 hot days coming up in a row, so the weather dept tells us.

We take the dogs for a walk early, before the hot weather, even before their breakfast. Not before my breakfast though, never before my breakfast.

The morning seemed gentle and serene, fresh like new life, even if there were people out and about, probably getting in some life before the really hot weather arrives.

Then we were home, indoors for the rest of the day.

The day sparkled beyond our windows, which kind of gives me that heightened feeling of safe at home. Our house is naturally cool as it is 150 years old and solid triple brick, so it can withstand the heat of a few hot days. So, it's nice to be at home.

Now I must close down YouTube and get back to some writing.