I'm home all day in the lounge room generating AI images for the posts that don't have images for in my blog archive. I've got through most of it now, no many to go.
Otto is a bulldog looking for trouble all day. Sam requests for me to come upstairs and remove him half way through the morning.
It gets really cold at midday and I feel frozen so I build a fire.
It is just a lazy Thursday. That's it.
Or as Miranda Priestly would say, that's all.
Just me and Otto home again today.
Sam's new boss, from all accounts, is so insecure about his new position that he is trying to get Sam to return to the office more days, than not, to support him.
It's quiet, at home here. I'm not playing any music. Just getting my work done. Otto snores on the couch next to me in the study.
I make hot chocolate and go buy a muffin around mid morning, when I take a break from work.
Wednesday, hump day, well, for most people. Wednesday, the brown little wren of days.
Max the temp told me sometime ago that she was very happy with Donald Trump being in power.
I said nothing.
Today we were talking about names. I told her how I once worked with Joy King, who used to explode in anger in the office if anyone pissed her off.
"She was no joy," I said.
Max the temp told me how there was a woman on The View called Joy Behar who her group - the mind boggles as to what 'her group' means - thought was the most toxic person on TV.
"Funny how Joys are so often not a joy," she said.
Joy Behar? Really, I thought. The only way you would think that is if you had really extreme right wing views.
I again, said nothing.
And that coupled with the happy with Donald Trump comment?
I'm, essentially, working with the enemy, I thought. Chuckle.
Now I think about it, Max does have that cheerful, vacuous, delusional, christian, look of stupid happiness about her. (you know, everything will be alright because some mythical being we all dreamed up will take care of everything)
If she was staying, I guess, I'd eventually challenge her on her views, as she puts them out freely, but as she is finishing up in a number of days, I'm saying nothing to her. I don't want to change her views, who can must that much energy to counter stupidity, I'd just want to hear all the mistruths on which her views are based. I kind of find that fascinating, if frightening, the shit people will believe to justify their positions.
Sam came home at 5pm, and we ate cheesecake and drank tea.
Sam went to the office. Charlie went wherever Charlie goes in the mornings. I know, I should know, but Charlie isn't one for offering details freely.
I had an easy day. I wasn't really stressed with a lot of work. Gotta love that. Well, actually, I prefer to have work that keeps me busy all day, but that wasn't today.
Otto slept on the study couch next to me all day.
I signed in early, 6am. I had pretty much done all the work I had to do by 9am.
I made Vegemite toast for breakfast. And, yes, I put plenty of Vegemite on it.
10.30am. I headed over the the bakery and got a hot banana muffin fresh out of the bakery oven.
Sam left me what I thought was olive pasta, Puttanesca style, I hoped, but what I thought were olives turned out to be egg plant. Blur. I hate egg plant. Screwed up face emoji.
I watched the movie, Alfie half way through the day. Has there ever been a sexier man than Jude Law in Alfie? You have got to love working from home. I have a lunch break, to be fair, I watched it during my lunch break, and then a little more, of course. But I started early, so, nyr.
I did some more work after the movie for the remainder of the afternoon, not too much pressure, setting my own pace, you understand.
Otto and I went for a walk at 3pm, after I signed off. It was warm outside, warmer than inside, but there was just a hint of rain possibly happening during the whole walk, but rain didn't eventuate.
As we were near home, we walked past the dog park and I noticed there were big dogs in the park, an Airedale, a German Short Haired Pointer and a German Shepard. I contemplated taking Otto over and letting him off, as he hasn't been in a dog park on his own without Brun before. I was thinking about Brun and the happy times watching the two of them be a couple of buddies in the dog park, or at the beach, when suddenly, the German Shepard was next to us sniffing Otto's arse. I didn't see him coming. Otto got a little freaked out and tried to run. The german Sheppard seemed to be a little taken aback with that. I though, well, that didn't go too badly. Raised eyebrows. We kept walking. The German Shepard was a fully grown puppy, and really bouncy, and he headed back to the dog park. We headed home.
That was my day.
Sam was home from the office at 5pm.
Okay, I'm going to the office. It is Max, the temp's, last day, well, last Monday. I said I'd come into the office for her last day with me, not really sure why I said that. Maybe, it's because I don't consider that I have wasted enough of my time this week, I might as well waste some more by pointlessly going into the office. Maybe, it is that? Ha, ha, whine, whine.
No, I’m not going to shut up about it. It’s annoying. We know working from home is better in every way, but the muppets in charge don’t want us to. Grrrr!
Lazy Sunday. Of course, it was cleaning day, being Sunday, my husband is a stickler for the cleaning on the Sunday.
Me? Not so much. I'll clean something if it looks dirty, but this scheduled, almost preemptive cleaning, nah, I have better things to do with my mind.
We walked Otto to Bunnings to get a new light bayonet for Charlie's bedroom, after his old one fell apart when he changed his blown light globe. How careful was he, I hear you ask, when he changed the light globe?
It is an interesting question.
It was almost a perfect Melbourne day, sunshine and bright blue sky.
Then the day just disappeared with both Sam and I saying that we don't want to work tomorrow.
It’s screens from there, as the weekend sadly winds to a close. Yes, of course, it should be a weekend every day, of course it should.
I just waste the morning on the couch watching random YouTube channels, and then when it looks like I have done maximum time wasting I get to American sovereign citizens YouTube clips. They are just weird. It’s kinda hard to explain why they do what they do. I think it’s where America’s poor education system comes home to roost with what appears to be the stupidest people. I assume they are probably just poorly educated, in America's conservative led increasingly poor education system. Who believes the nonsense of sovereign citizens, it makes no sense whatsoever. Anyway, it’s kind of interesting to watch it because it’s, you know, like not being able to take your eyes off a car crash as you drive past. It is appealing in the sense that you just can’t understand there are people who act like this. They just talk shit, absolute shit, which they appear to wholeheartedly believe, which is the more mind-boggling aspect of the whole thing. Here is an ideology of complete nonsense that has been bought wholeheartedly by a significant number of the population. It’s just mind-boggling how this conspiracy theory rubbish is taken up by people.
As we get closer to the middle of the day, Sam says, “come on let’s go and do shopping for the week,” which also means getting lunch afterwards. Sam is not a breakfast person, like I am, so he starts to get hungry as the day progresses, where I can just lie on the couch and waste my life at lightning speed. I have no problem with indulging in the waste of time Olympics, rightly or wrongly.
So, as we edge towards midday, Sam has made the call to leave the house. So, we get our shit together, harness up the dog, and we leave the house before midday.
It’s actually a gorgeous day outside, the sun is shining down absolutely beautifully, the sky is a radiant blue overhead, it couldn’t be a nicer day if it tried, well, if I’d been notified of winning $5 million in TattsLotto just before we left the house, then, I guess, it could be a nicer day.
The sun is lovely and warm in which to walk to the shops.
I stop of at The Salvos on our way just to have a sniff about. Sam continues on. I catch up when I am done. I get a couple of seasons of The Durrells, the two seasons that I don't have.
Otto and I sit outside the shopping centre, watching all the cute boys in tight track pants and, sexy men in snug fitting shorts walking into the shopping centre with their shopping bags ready to load up on whatever groceries their little heart’s desire.
Sam does the shopping. He comes back several times with full shopping bags dropping them off with us and taking away empty shopping bags to get more supplies for the week.
It’s kind of nice sitting there watching the world go by with Ottie sitting next to me watching the world go by too, his head and my head moving one way then the other in unison, like the open mouth clowns at the carnival, or those gay boys on the other side of the glory holes waiting for the dicks to slide into their gobs.
Saturday. Is it everyone’s favourite day? The day where you can do anything you like, and the promise of tomorrow is just to repeat the same lazy day. There is no other day in the week quite like it, quite as fabulous, Saturdays are gay because they are truly fabulous.
I hum a little tune and make up some words while I wait, while the world passes by.
Once the shopping is done, we’ll get some lunch.
Once the shopping is done, we’ll get some lunch.
Once the shopping is done, we’ll get some lunch.
Munch, munch, munch, munch, munch.
Once lunch is consumed, we’ll walk home.
Once lunch is consumed, we’ll walk home.
Once lunch has been consumed, we’ll walk home, in the glorious sunshine.
Once we are home, will be back on the couches with our feet up staring at our screens, once lunch is consumed
Once we’ve got home, we’ll be done
There’s a fat chick just inside the shopping centre doors with what looks like a Portuguese Water Dog that is whining, and yelping, and barking non-stop. Grrr. She has about as much control of that dog as she does over her diet, I think.
Once we’re done in the centre, we’re outside Minh Phat supermarket while Sam shops. We are out of the sun and in a bit of a breeze and suddenly the day isn’t quite so warm.
A handsome guy comes out of Minh Phat with a box in his hands in green shorts that show off his beefy butt beautifully.
There is a homeless guy sitting just along a bit with a sign asking for money, who is smoking. And, you know, I’m not trying to deny him anything in his life, but smoking is really expensive. And he is asking people to give him money. Just saying.
Ten minutes and Sam reappears
Next, we’re at the butcher in Victoria Street. Sam says his butcher boyfriend isn’t there, and the aunty who served him was a bitch as she wouldn’t give him any free bones like the guy always does.
As we walk down Victoria Street, there is a guy on his bike with his head leaning down on the handle bars, with his arse fully out of his jeans on full display to anyone walking down Victoria Street. It’s not a bad arse either, I have to say.
We’re at the pork roll shop, we’re getting them to take home. Otto and I are standing in the sun, whilst Sam gets the pork rolls, and hopefully a couple of sesame balls.
There is a dark haired straight boy in big, baggy shorts standing in front of me. I’d like to check out his sesame balls. Yeah, sure I would, no problem. He’s got a redheaded mate with him, we’d need to separate the two to get a piece of the cute one. Get his big baggy shorts off over his Birkenstocks, bend his knees until his ankles are around his ears, and then, er, give it all a good lick. Yeah, no problem.
He and his mate are staring at me and smiling, they are looking at Otto, I know that. I smile back at them. Yeah, mate, I have your dick in my mouth, I think. He smiles and nods.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
The sun is kind of nice. Not too hot. Just nice.
Ten minutes later, we’re off home.
Half an hour later and we’re home
The day is done. We’ve hunted and we’ve gathered. And now it is time to rest.
We eat our pork rolls. We eat our sesame balls.
Sam falls asleep on the couch.
I upload The Durrells to my movie collection.
Otto whines for his ball. Of the three bulldogs we've had, Otto is the biggest whiner.
Nick Andrews never did get into Mikail Vigell's pants, as far as I know.
I came back from overseas with Rachel, after two years. I bought the house with Adam. That failed quickly. I lived on my own. Leah used to knock on my window late at night, particularly if she was drunk on a Saturday night. She’d get into my bed and we’d have sex. We always had unprotected sex, but that was okay as I always had safe sex with everyone else.
I never really thought anything too much about it. Leah liked being on top – of course, she did – sucking on her tits – I guess it helped that she had kind of boyish figure – with my dick inside her, it felt good.
She admitted to me years later that I was one of the few men who could make her orgasm with their dick. I always thought that was kind of a sad indictment on straight boys. I just thought it was kind of normal when she’d wrap her legs around me, and dig her nails into the flesh of my back and make those gasping/grunting noises, which all together could mess up my rhythm somewhat, but, apparently not. Girls? At least with boys you know, when they scream out and spray you with their cum.
My body count increased exponentially during this period.
Much later, when asked what my body count was, I worked it out roughly to be, I reckon, very loosely – pun intended – 1000 guys and one girl. That is not a brag, just a fact, I think all of my gay friends would have roughly the same figure.
Truthfully, I have no idea. So, the simple calculation I am using is, one guy per week for 20 years. I can tell you that many, many, many weeks, there were a lot more than one. I remember the one month I, actually, added up the guys I’d had sex with, noted in my journal at the time, and there were 20. Of course, there were weeks where there were none. But, someone asked me what the number was, so I made an attempt at the number.
I met Anthony. He was elusive, at best. That didn’t last very long. He was more frustrating that fulfilling.
Leah would head overseas to London, where she was very successful.
Nick moved into my place living with me for a time.
Jill met the love of her life early on, who she intended to marry. She found out he was serially cheating on her and she broke it off, heart broken. She has never met anyone else.
David M eventually went to uni and got a degree. I didn’t see much of him by this stage. He changed and became really, really, unbearably pretentious. His whole family had it in them, kind of a collective chip on their shoulders about proving they we just as good as anyone else. I’m not really sure where that came from, as their family was just the same as any of our families.
Rachel lived around the corner from me. David and Rachel were always very close. They still are. Jill’s sister Elly moved in with Rachel. Elly met her handsome husband, Mark I.
Rachel married her perfect husband, Anton. She had four perfect children. She moved back interstate for a while to be near her mum to help raise the kids.
She moved back to Melbourne. She divorced her perfect husband, saying that perfection was, ultimately, boring.
She then had a relationship with a Ferrari driving millionaire property developer.
She then had a relationship with a drunk who may, or may not, have killed her dog as the relationship crumbled.
She is currently single.
Elly and Mark I. would move to Sydney, (where all monster people end up) have two kids, being very successful doctors.
Jill and I would joke that there were two types of doctors, the one who goes into medicine to heal themselves, and those who went into medicine to heal others. That’s all I’m saying.
Mark I. has now lived an extraordinary number of years being terminally ill with cancer.
Adam would eventually meet some guy later in life who, apparently, rode the rollercoaster of striking it rich, and losing it all, repeatedly. They’d get married and, apparently, live happily ever after, eventually retiring young down the beach, so, I guess, there was a striking it rich that stuck. I don’t know.
“They released white doves,” Rachel excitedly told me about their wedding.
“The things you see when you don’t have your flame thrower handy,” I replied.
Adam texts me every year on my birthday, as the only contact we ever have.
Side note, as Daniel wasn’t in our friendship circle, let me just say, he became a very successful hairdresser. I would see him on and off through the years, he and I always got along really well. I met a number of young gay guys along the way who had been apprentices who’d quake at the mention of Daniel Haddock’s name.
“Oh my god, I was scared of him,” they’d say.
“Daniel? Really? Scared of him.” I’d laugh. The idea seemed so funny.
“Christian Fletcher, how the hell are you?” I’d hear that unmistakable nasal voice in a Fitzroy street somewhere. (think Allan Carr, actually, complete with Adele’s laugh)
“Daniel.”
“Luv.”
“I meet people who are scared of you.”
“Oh nonsense,” he’d say. And then there would be that beautiful smile of his. When Daniel smiled, his face lit up. When Daniel laughed, all of him laughed.
The teacher at our school who got 20 years for molesting boys, who attempted it on me but stopped when I told him to, well, that whole investigation was, apparently, started by Daniel pressing charges of being raped repeatedly by Peter Morrison.
Apparently, Daniel couldn’t come to terms with it in the end, and he committed suicide.
I met Mark, which drew me away from all of those friends, which gave me all of my new gay mates, Perry and Kim and Tom and Shane and Fergus and Sebastian and David G and Lauri and Simon and Dean and Anthony would return as a friend.
I had a whole other gay life with Mark.
We bought a house together, which we renovated.
We had an open relationship, and we fucked every guy that came into our orbit.
The whole house there for a time, was full of guys and drugs and dance music.
Nick and his long term boyfriend, Liam, rented the house that Adam and I originally bought together, from me, after I had met Mark and we’d bought the other house together in Fitzroy, the house I still live in now.
Nick and Liam rented the house with Mark’s cousin, Andrew.
There was a dispute about the rent, Nick only wanted to pay half the rent, going on bedrooms used, where Andrew wanted to pay a third of the rent, as there were three of them, Andrew, Nick and Liam, living in the house. Andrew kept paying me a third of the rent, saying he’d pay the difference if it was decided to be half half. Nick and Liam stopped paying rent altogether, supposedly, until the rent situation was sorted out.
They never seemed to come to an agreement.
It came to a point where Mark and I were going to Europe for three months, so just before we left, I stepped in and said,
“Since you guys can’t seem to come to an agreement, I will do it for you. There are three of you, you pay a third each.”
So, Andrew was up to date. Nick and Liam had to find two thirds of the rent, I think by that stage, for over 12 months.
Mark and I left for Europe.
Nick and Liam moved out of the house the day after Mark and I left for OS.
I have never seen Nick again, my oldest friend who I met in grade 4.
I sold my first house and Mark and I bought Bolago.
Leah eventually moved back to Sydney, where she held very high up executive positions on huge salaries. She became so full of herself, and so overbearing that the last time I saw her, I walked out afterwards knowing I was done with her.
I haven’t seen her, or spoken to her, for 10 years.
She has never tried to rescue the relationship.
She has been married to her gorgeous husband for many years.
Mark and I split up.
I met Sam which drew me away even more from everyone. You know, when you get a new partner, you tend to pair up.
Jill and Rachel and I remain friends.
The last time I saw David M, was at a dinner at Rachel’s place, he had cake samples with him for his upcoming marriage to his poisonous boyfriend, Harry de Wit. (or as I like to say, Harry Halfwit)
“Oh really, what kind of cake is it?” I asked.
“Really fucking expensive cake, that’s what kind of cake it is,” he replied.
“Oh David,” I’m sure I said exasperated with him. “Is it fruit cake, or mud cake, or what flavour?” I don’t care how much it cost.
David S’s parents would eventually move back to Melbourne from England and settle for good in Kew. David S tried to reintroduce himself into our friendship group, at one point, but it didn’t stick.
He is a semi famous, experimental artist. I still think about his pottery wall hanging of babies strapped together with leather thronging as a homage to abortion, or his grotesque 30 something centimetre figures of people called The Worst in Society, or his life size busts of paper mache screaming faces, or his collection of photos of guy's faces at the very point of ejaculation. (The collection includes all his male friends, and random strangers that he asked. He told me once, that he never had a guy turn him down, gay, or straight. He asked me to do it, and while I agreed to do it, I, actually, never did)
I really meant to keep in contact with him but, you know, life gets in the way.
No one knows about David M and I, in fact, I’m pretty sure that I have never written about it before. I have never told anyone, and I have no intension of telling anyone. Let’s hope no one finds this post, no one has ever found my blog – except a dentist I used to go to, he, so far has been the only one.
(for the astute amongst you, there are a couple of inconsequential, minor details in this piece that don’t completely make sense, that’s because I have altered them to protect my privacy. I learnt from the dentist, more than one unaltered fact can lead to discovery)
I have never spoken about it out of loyalty to Leah, I have never wanted her to find out. I never wanted it to alter her perception of our relationship. I wanted to preserve the way she thinks it was. She would never understand that I could do both, have both, be both. (That is a gay sensibility that straight people just don’t have)
But, you know, now that we no longer speak, and from all accounts will probably never speak again, I’m not so concerned about that any more.
And now when I look up, I see my perfect boyfriend, Sam. It took a while to find him, I had to road test so many along the way, but eventually I did find him. And he's lovely.
