Sunday, June 19, 2022

It Makes As Much Sense As The Other Story

Oh, sorry, I couldn't help myself. It was a t-shirt that I miss read, actually. It made me laugh. Then my mistake made me laugh more.

Well, it makes as much sense as the other story, I thought.

Let's look at the time line/details/claims.

The earth is 4.6 billion years old, give or take the lazy half billion years.

The first life on earth were microbes 3.7 billion years ago.

The dinosaurs lived for approx. 200 million years, something like 200 million years ago.

Humans have lived for the last 200 thousand years.

So, what are the claims?

God created the world.

He created man in his own image.

He sent his only son to earth to, now this is the bit that makes the least sense of all, to have him killed for what? Um? Forgive us for our sins? (What is this crap?) Why didn't he just forgive us? [the way we reproduce our species was the biggest sin of all to one of the avenues of thought? I'm looking at you catholics... Huh? I'm still not sure if I understand that one fully?]

Anyway. What? He created the world and then, apart from the microbes and the dinosaurs, he held off for 4.5 billion, 800 million years before he got to his own image... what?

Now, if you believe all of that, I have some beach front property in the Simpson Desert you may well be interested in buying? It comes with a nice flock of goats.

Since man is unlikely to be here much longer than 200,000 years, the way we are going, and since microbes were around for 1 billion years and dinosaurs 200 million years, it seems logical to extrapolate that god is either a microbe, or a dinosaur... if you believe the made in his image bullshit stuff.

Saturday, June 18, 2022

Jacinda Ardern Has A Point


An utter lack of compassion was the stock and trade of the previous conservative Morrison Liberal Govt and if you think that is how governments should treat their citizens then, sure, go a head and vote for the Liberals, but if you don't think that is how we should be treated don't vote for them.

You see, I think the role of government is to make life better for its people, all of its people. 

I don't believe it is the role of govt to screw over its people, in fact, screw over the whole country in its quest to service the needs of its financial donors.

Friday, June 17, 2022

Boris' Holidays

Boris is going on holidays, 6 weeks off to visit her mother back in the home country. However, she can only go if I agree to cover certain critical roles. When she first suggested it back in 2019 when she was first planning the trip, before the pandemic hit, I agreed that I would. “Sure, no problem.”

But, you know, life has happened since then, and the buzz of me being a new kid has certainly worn off, and a certain amount of jadedness has settled in, certainly around the edges. There have been a few instances where I have got the blame for stuff and while I have been exonerated on nearly all accounts, well, I’m sure it has gone a long way to me feeling as though I am not thought of as highly as I once was.

Boris wants to further her career, and gets bonus’ as a manager. I just want the quiet life and don’t get bonus’ as I am not a manager. My 3 day a week job just keeps my bank account topped up so I don’t ever have to think about it. Boris wants the responsibility, I don’t. I have learned working in the corporate world, unless you are a ‘yes’ man and willing to tow the line to the nth degree, if you keep your head above the parapet for too long the most likely outcome is that you will get it kicked in.

So, when Boris asked me if I’d fill in this time, I responded with, 

“I don’t feel as though I am thought of highly in the company, and that doing more hours in that environment I don’t feel is in my best interests any longer, so I would have to decline.” Or something like that.

Boris called me right up, telling me that I wasn’t thought of badly in the company and that she didn’t want me to feel that way. And somehow, I had an attack of the team players (Jesus Fuck!) and somehow at the end of that conversation I'd agreed to do a very limited role, two functions only, so she could go away on holidays. 

And I have been kicking myself ever since. I don’t want to do it! But, I like Boris and I didn’t want to be the reason she couldn’t go on holidays, which is totally ridiculous, now that I think about it, as they could have got a temp from anywhere to do the job, (they could have done whatever, really, what do I care) stupid me. I am cross with myself for caving in.

It means that I have to work 5 days. It means I have to return to the office, for at least part of the time. And I have to be responsible to everyone during that time. I don’t want to do it. I am an idiot.

So, you can well understand how I felt when Boris sent me a list of all of the functions in her role that I would have to cover. 

Ah, no, I thought. (actually, my reaction was much, much stronger than that, however) I emailed her back saying, “I thought I only agreed to do [function A] and [function B]?”

She conceded that was what we agreed. And has made arrangements for those functions to be completed by other people. (or is in the process of)

I have held that position firmly since. (Because I am sorry I agreed to any of this stupid me)

Perhaps, I am just a whiner? No. This is the only place I spew all this stuff out. I do tell some close friend’s snippets of this, I’m not really good at small talk, but most I just keep it to myself, other than here. 

I watch people and their small talk and I see that most people just tell the same details over and over again, in social settings. I find once I have told it once, I am just boring myself if I repeat it to the next person. Small talk is done best by people who find themselves endlessly fascinating. My friend David is a master at it.

Thursday, June 16, 2022

Melbourne at Night

Walking home from the excellent The Picture of Dorian Gray tonight.

The main actor, the only actor was fantastic. They had screens and did all sorts of trick photography so the one actor could play 4 characters often interacting with each other in the same scenes. (I’m still not entirely sure how they did some of them?) So, it was essentially a one woman show through the entire play often playing multiple characters. How she remembered all her lines I will never know.

Sleep, What I Used To Do Best

I used to be a good sleeper, it used to be the thing I did best, I used to say as my line at dinner parties when everyone else made their case for a bottle of wine, or a bag of pot, before they could achieve nod. If I wasn't asleep after 5 minutes of laying my head on the pillow, I would start to hear alarm bells, albeit silent ones in my head.

And while I still don't really have a lot to complain about, insomniacs, I'm guessing, would only wish to have my problems, I'm not as good as I used to be. Oh, I’m still asleep within 5 minutes of going to bed, but now I wake up early, often

It is the weight of life that is disrupting my sleep patterns, I’m sure.

Here I am up at 4am, sitting on the floor in front of the open fire I have just lit, which is just beginning to warm my right arm, like a sunrise. Much to the delight of Milo my cat. (no pesky bulldogs to deal with. Well, just the young bulldog being the problem to be precise) You're up! You're up! I can almost hear Milo say. Pat me. Pat me. Pat me.

I got up at 3am for a piss. Sam did too. The silent shuffle to the bathroom, and the silent shuffle back to bed. (Ralph and Fred the sheep dogs, except without the greeting)

Then I lay in bed writing stuff in my head, which was nice. But then I wanted to write it down before I forget? Stop it! Now, about the things I have to do in the morning. Shut up brain. Call the heating man first up. Shut up. Think nice thoughts? I wonder how big Liam’s dick really is? He is a big lad, it only stands to reason?... no, don’t think about that. Think poetry. What was that poem I was writing… Oh, no, back to wanting to write it down! What rhymes with, what was that word?... Shut up! And that is a great name for that piece that I wrote. Get up, write it down. Shut up! Shut up! Should I look at the time again? Oh, go to sleep. Toss and Turn. Grrr. It is no use. I'm awake now. damn it. Grrr. I toss and turn for a moment later.

And it is my day off today, tomorrow, (I never quite think it is the next day until the sun comes up), whatever, so what does it matter really, what time I get up?

I reach out and pull my watch from its charging station. I put it on my writs nimbly without needing to see.

I could light the fire (even if it isn't as cold as the last few days) and lie in front of it with the big pillow pulling a blanket over me and listen to some music.

I slip out from under the doona in the dark. I pull on my track pants, I feel around on the floorboards for my fluffy explorer socks. I find one and slide it over my left foot. I eventually find the other and slide it over my right foot. I get to my feet and slide my feet with small steps over to the bedroom chair where I discarded my t-shirt, thermal top and hoodie last night, I slide them all on in one movement. My eyes are becoming more accustom to the dark and I step towards the desk and my laptop and head phones, I was using in bed last night before we turned out the lights. I take small steps in the dark, like the bound feet of an ancient Japanese woman, to the door. I reach out to my bedside table and pull my phone from its charging station. I grab my glasses. I click the door open quietly, I slip through and close the door behind me again as quietly as I can.

The house is in darkness. I check carefully to make sure Milo isn’t lying on the step on the turn in the staircase as he likes to do. I don’t know how many times I have been in danger of plummeting down the stairs having to avoid Milo at the very last minute. Cats?

Am I hungry? Don't even think about it.

I go and dig peanut butter out of the jar with a knife. 

I make coffee.

Wednesday, June 15, 2022



It's been cold, but the sun has come out momentarily

We've still got to walk the dogs, well, you know, if it was me, we'd be home on the couch taking turns licking the peanut butter from the knife, Buddy, Bruno and me, but Sam is a stickler for dog walks every day, come sunshine or the cold. And, actually, Buddy and Bruno don't care - well, Bruno doesn't care as long as he doesn't get his paws wet - about the cold. They are English Bulldogs after all.

Tuesday, June 14, 2022

Baby Faced Liam

Then the heating company sent baby faced Liam. Everything about him was big. Big feet. Big legs. Big thighs. Big arse. Big hands. Tall, of course, with this child's face.

(Ah, to be 18, or 19, again, and have all those people, yet to come, who are going to gag sucking on your big dick. You have such a short time to entrance the world and be entranced by it that you should do everything with everybody, before you settle down and be contented with your lot)

He got the heating going again, with a good showing of arse crack in the process. (white jocks, fine spread of hair in the small of his back. He hadn't been out in the sun recently, that much was clear)

He seemed unsure about himself, uncertain of his place in the world, not long out of the den. Just a pup.

Sam wasn't impressed that they'd sent the junior.

Liam got the system up and running. He said it was all fine. He showed us what to do if the problem happened again.

Sam wanted him to do more checking, and he kind of made a vague acknowledgement of this, you know, played along. But ultimately, he left, missing the real problem with the system altogether. And Sam was to be proven right. The system stopped working again, just after all the tradies headed home, and the temperature outside dropped to single digits.


Monday, June 13, 2022

No Heat For You

It's a long weekend, enjoy. 

The central heating brings up an error code on the control panel and shuts itself off. Of course it does, its winter.

We'd just had the service guy here. A couple of panels weren't working in the front bedroom which Sam's nephew Charlie will have when he gets here. He's coming from a hot climate to a cold climate so we had to make sure the heating was working for him. We don't won't to kill him, straight off, Sam's sister wouldn't be too pleased about that. He's her baby, to be sure, one of two. (not sure if Harry will follow suit in a few years' time. Who knows? Let's hope it goes well with Charlie, as there is no plan B to this? No escape route, to speak of)

And the service guy got the floor heating working again. The back part of the house is on a slab and that is heated. It hadn't worked since they replaced the whole system a few years back. Call it my slackness, call it my stinginess, whatever. Sam and I don't feel the cold and slab heating, while it is nice, it really benefits the gas company more than it benefits us. Still, a warm floor is luxury and it was nice to have it back again - right when the gas prices go through the roof, yes, of course.

It turned out the heating company - the same one I am still using, have only ever used - simply forgot to switch the floor back on after they replaced the boiler. So, the service guy had gone over the whole system, after that, just a week ago.