(I wasn't going to use my journal, but fuck it, I haven't written anything else)
5am. I was up. I have to go into the office. Fuck the world! I’m not really sure what the company gets out of me trapsing into the office?
I get dressed in the dark, into my dark blue office outfit. I kind of like the all dark blue look rather than all black. The all dark blue has a bit more life in it.
It’s cold. Summer is over.
I look at YouTube while I eat my Vegemite toast. One of the YouTubers says the new Stones track is up on a message board, link below. So, I play it. Finally. Yeah, nice. I like it.
I faff about, getting all my shit together.
6:09am. I leave the house. It is still dark.
I’m listening to my Rolling Stones Mixed Tape as I walk up the street in the dark.
An 86 tram comes along just as I get to the first tram stop, so I hop on
There’s a tradie on the tram with a yellow hiviz Hoodie pulled up over his head, he’s teamed that with small, tight, blue shorts. He has great legs. Is that how we like the handsome ones? Head covered, no pants? Maybe?
“Hey?”
What?
“That is the waistband of my shorts.”
I thought you had your hoodie over your head.
“I can still feel your hand on the buttons to my shorts.”
Oh, come on, stop struggling, let me look at you.
“Hey… stop…”
This isn’t gonna hurt, well, not permanently. Come on boy, show us yours… Let’s see how big you can make it.
“Oh! Why are there handcuffs on my wrists?”
Well.
“You’re holding it real tight. Who just blindfold me?”
That’s the way, you’re getting the idea.
“You are really squeezing it.”
Keep swelling it up, come on keep swelling up, let’s see you make it nice and hard.
“Oh god, I never thought another man’s hand…”
See, I thought you could impress us, a strapping guy like you.
“Oh fuck, that feels good.”
Come on boy, we all wanna have a go.
“Where did the other guys come from?”
Honey for the bees.
“I don’t know? I don’t know? Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhh.”
Your knees are shaking. You’re breathing heavily, suddenly.
“I’ve only ever been with one girl.”
Well, that’s the last time you can say that.
I shake my head and come back to the real world. The shops flash by in the dark.
I get off on the corner in the dark.
There is no tram cnr Brunswick Street so I get walking.
It’s dark.
6:18am. I’m at St Vincent’s Plaza. There are a couple of people waiting on the platform, all looking at their phones in the dark. The light from their screens casts an eery reflection
6:21am. A pretty 109 comes along.
There is a Cute Asian boy all in black, good shorts, nice legs, I go sit opposite him. He gets off at 101 Collins.
A skinny dark haired boy in a full matching cream and pale green track suit gets on and takes the Asian boy’s seat opposite. Not much of a bulge. He doesn’t look up from his phone. He looks like the type who would have mental health issues.
I look out the window.
6:28am. We’re at Elizabeth Street all of a sudden.
6:29am. Tradie standing at the open door to his parked Ute, halfway to William Street. He’s in small, dark blue shorts, and an orange top. He slides his hand down the back of his shorts to scratch his arse, as the tram passes by, probably showing the world more of his arse than he really intended. Nice arse though. Thata boy.
Two chicks and a gay guy bang the side of the tram and whoop at the sight of his bare cheeks.
6:30am. We’re at William Street.
An athletic type gets off ahead of us, track suit material pale grey shorts, fleecy hoodie, he wafts the smell of Dencorub behind him.
6:33am. I’m in the lift.
I make coffee. I grab the old bananas from last week for a banana cake.
7:11am. Big Ange comes in.
I start listening to Hackney Diamonds.
I go have a big shit, before getting a second coffee.
I see IT muscles Attaboy in the kitchen, still with his stupid hipster beard. I want to tell him he has missed that look by nearly 10 years. I want to tell him to shave it off. I nearly have a couple of times, but of course you can’t
7:46am. The old, fat finance chick is in next. She seems nice, she always says good morning. She’s 10 years younger than me, but looks 10 years older. She also lives in the outer suburbs.
7:50am. The Big Poo is in, surprisingly down beat for him, he’s usually go go go even in the morning.
8:02am. My cute, old school mate, David Baumgartner service boy lookalike, who I have an arse licking date with in my dreams someday, arrives. Panties around his knees, down on all fours.
“Morning,” I say. That image is in my head.
He smiles. “Good morning.”
8:15am. Jason Jones is in.
8:53am. Tall, blokey, Miss Cliché, who sits outside my office, is in. I can’t decide if she is a lesbian, a bogan, or a bogan lesbian?
8:55am. The Midget and Nam arrive together? That’s an odd pairing. What do you reckon? Nam is fucking The Midget? Nyr. Doesn’t bare thinking about.
9:15am. Boris is in.
9:20am. Some plain blonde chick comes and yaps on to the blokey bogan lesbian chick.
Blokey bogan lesbian chick chats to David, as soon as she is done yapping on to the plain blonde chick.
10am. the get-Christian-into-the-office meeting starts. Me, Boris, and The Midget.
10:15am. Meeting over. Now the bogan lesbian is yapping on to some delivery guy. Is there anyone this bitch won’t yabber on to?
Greek Easter, Greek Easter, Greek Easter. Jesus does she ever shut up? The next time I head to the kitchen for a coffee I slide my office door shut when I return. Then I get the optics but none of the whitter. Better.
I could throw my weight around and get her moved. Oh, laugh. I don’t have any weight to throw around.
I listen the Black & Blue, the new tracks. Headphones are great. I turn it up. My office door closed, no one disturbs me.
Midday I have my lunch bought from home. Sam packed it for me.
2pm. It’s the finance meeting. Oh god – used ironically – the longer they all yap on I lose the will to live just a little. Jesus some of them love the sound of their own voices.
3pm. I leave the office.
I run across William Street where there is a huge black Ute waiting for the pedestrians. He makes a point of accelerating hard as I approach, clearly deluded about the green and red pedestrian man. Ignorant arsewipe. It’s frightening how many drivers think the pedestrian crossing men have anything to do with them.
3:04pm. I’m running for a tram which I miss, and as I miss it, I realise it was a 48. I can’t catch a 48. Grrr!
I catch the 11 all the way to Brunswick Street & Gertrude Street cnr. Free public transport for April. This would be my stop if they made public transport free. I wonder if making public transport free would be the cheapest climate change initiative a govt could do?
3.30pm. I’m home.
Otto is over excited to see me. Brun tries to be excited around bouncing Otto.
4:14pm. We take the Bulldogs for a walk. It looks like it’s about to rain, black clouds overhead.
We do a big circle of the suburb ending back on Smith Street.
5:01pm. Brun, Otto and I are waiting outside while Sam shops in Coles for something for dinner.
5:05 pm. A Malamute comes past and of course boof head carries on. The Malamute seems to want to make an issue of it too, but his owner pulls him away.
Sam reappears at 5:08pm.
5:17pm. We home
We ate chicken and fishcakes and greens and rice for dinner.
We watched 4Corners on how bad social media is for society. Oh, no kidding. It was why I stopped going on Facebook, more often that not it was just abuse it was offering, and I decided that I just didn’t need it.
Oh, you know, sometimes it is fun to troll the stupid people, but it wears thin pretty quickly.
We watched Media Watch. They do a really long expose on Aussie Gold Hunters not really sure why. It seemed out of character for Media Watch
10.15pm. Sam and Brun went to bed.
I stayed up trying to write a blog post, but nothing is coming.
11.45pm. Otto and I went to bed.

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