From Where Do They Get These DipShits?

We've got this new problem in Sydney HR named, we'll call her Lassie. I really think she suffers from OCD. I can't be sure, she might just be an anally fucked up retentive monster, but, with my history with Manny, the feeling is OCD that I get.

She asks me to confirm every singe interaction that we have, that recently I said that I wouldn't.

"I'll deal with it, Lassie," you loser, I think, "You don't need to be involved any longer."

Then she asked me to relay whatever conversation I have when dealing with the matter, so she could make notes.

Again, I said no.

She is so pathetic that when I was trying to have an email conversation with her about some figures, the other day, she kept cc'ing in The Midget to the email.

WTF!

All I could think was, what are you doing, you pathetic cow, can't you deal with something on your own merits, without clinging to those above you.

Recently, she asked me to confirm something completely useless, just like her, and I thought, Oh, piss off you moron, and I didn't confirm it.

She sent an email to the head of HR and The Midget telling them how I failed to confirm something for her.

Boris is getting kicked by The Midget and is now prefacing what she has to say with, I-can't-deal-with-this-any-more, blah, blah, blah.

The problem is, ever since Brun died, someone as sweet and real, and lovely as Brun, suddenly dying, I don't really care any more. If someone as good and pure as Brun can be taken from us, you know, pointlessly, what is the fucking point to anything, really.

I don't know if that makes sense, but it makes sense to me.

So, I don't care. I'm dangerous - desperately trying to think up a better expression - oh, so fucken dangerous, listen to me, when I don't care. Jasus!

Anyway, whatever, you know this means war. Well, you know, quiet, immovable, uncooperative, war. I'm done with her.

Where do they get these pint sized Hitlers from? I think it must be a prerequisite to work in HR. Or is that having half your brain removed? Yeah, I'm not sure which.

Home On My Own

I worked at home all day on my own, which I like. I'm happy on my own. I never understand why people aren't.

Sam had to go to the office. Charlie disappeared early too. It was just me and Otto and The Rolling Stones all day.

Charlie had left a bag of BreadTop pastries in the kitchen, so, you know, I like that too. Anything with the word pasty in its' title is alright with me.

In The Office

 

My day to go into the office. I'm up early, had breakfast and coffee and ready to go by 6am.

Go to the office, I think as I sling my bag over my shoulder. Go to the office, er? Stupid company making me go to the office. Grrrr!

It’s raining outside so, as you can imagine, I’m less impressed than I was before. Seriously, can we have another pandemic?

It’s raining all the way to the tram stop, not heavy rain, but rain enough to make me wet by the time I get to the corner, and that is mostly under awnings.

6am. I make it to the tram shelter cnr Brunswick Street and Gertrude Street. The young Asian chick already standing under the shelter looks momentarily scared at my intrusion. Er, sorry, I want to say, but of course, I don’t. Another chick in a camel coat joins us, taking one of the cold, metal seats.

I start Foreign Tongues in my headphones and the scared chick and the camel coat fade from my consciousness.

6:05am. The tram comes.

The three of us get on out of the rain.

The tram is relatively sparsely populated.

Spring Street and I am legal. Ha ha.

Swanston Street. A gaggle of tradie boys get on in hiviz. A whole work team of them, and suddenly the tram is full. Lots of blokes. As far as I can see. It's the beginning of a porn movie.

6:17am. I'm off the tram. There’s some idiot with a leaf blower halfway down Collins Street. Get a broom and sweep them up, you dope, I think. I don’t really care though, I’m just making my way to my office in the dark.

6:20am. I’m in the lift.

First thing, I make coffee.

I get everything done by the time everyone else comes in. Then I do absolutely everything I have to do by lunch.

I stumble across a video of Buddy and Brun down by the Yarra and Brun looks so happy. It comes up on my phone.

Makes me think life is a process of diminishing returns, it really is. In the end you lose everything and you get less and less and less.

I get a salad and a muffin for lunch.

I think Boris is shitty with me about her holiday relief? Oh well, what can you do.

I’m bored after lunch. Everything is done, I’m up to date and scratching around for things to do, which I really hate. Apparently, Boris is snowed under, well, if you’d been nicer, I might have offered to help. Nyr? Whatever.

I listen to the Rolling Stones all day.

I can’t shake off feeling sad after seeing Brun so happy walking along the path next to the Yarra. What’s the point, I can’t help thinking, when something, someone, as good and as lovely as Brun dies. 

We’re inching towards home time, come on hours pass quickly.

Cold Sunday

It's cold. It's cleaning day. Otto and I are lounging on the couch lazily. Sam has already done his cleaning chores. My cleaning chores are still hanging over me. I so don't feel like it, but Sam won't except any excuses. Haha.

11am. Charlie just got up.

I don't feel like doing anything on this grey day. I just want to stay on the couch with my dog. BooHoo.

I'm cold, I just don't seem to feel warm.

Sam reckons its colder this winter than last winter. I don't know about that. Winter is winter, I think, they are all cold.

Sam goes to the city for a haircut. Otto and I walk with him to the halfway point. That's when the clouds got really dark, black and the temperature drops to its coldest. Sam keeps going. Otto and I turn back. I don't want to be walking back in the rain with no shelter. Otto starts walking faster as he always does when he thinks we are heading home.

We walk to our front gate. I intended to walk Otto all the way down our street and back, so we are within a short distance of the verandas of the main road, just in case the rain does come down, but once we are at our front gate, Otto makes it clear that he doesn't want to walk anywhere else, so we go inside.

I throw more wood on the fire. I start to feel warm for the first time today. Otto cuddles up next to me on the couch.

Saturday Gym Day

I’m happy on the couch with Otto all morning, until Sam reminds me to go to the gym.

Oh, yes, the gym, it’s gym day. Rats! Gym day, nyr, I think. Go to the gym.

So, it takes me about an hour after that to build up the 'want' to put less clothes on and go out into this winter’s day to tackle the gym.

10:27am. I go to the gym. The thought of going out into the cold day nearly put me off, but I push myself. There is a little sun shining which is warming, but the wind is blowing, which is cooling.

10:29am. I’m on the exercise bike.

The gym is full of people. So many people like I have never seen before. 

Of course, I have my eye out for cock-out-boy. Oh, I don’t really know why, just for some excitement, I guess, while I do my exercises. Just to see his reaction, after he dropped his cock out his shorts leg. I don’t want anything from him, nah. I’m not even going to speak to him, unless, of course, he talks to me.

I’m listening to Foreign Tongues, Rolling Stones new album, which I am loving, just by the way.

10:33am. The Taj type turns up. (Taj was an Egyptian friend of mine back in the day, and this guy looks like him)

I’m peddling the bike and surveying the room.

There are a couple of cute boys, one tall dark-haired guy with a cap, and a guy with messy blond hair and a mushroom coloured t-shirt, a number of girls, a girl and boy together, they look like father and grown daughter. Maybe. He seems to be instructing her. The two girls have on skin tight black shorts. Nah, it’s just not the same. 

10:50am. Cute blond boy leaves. Good thick legs, solid butt, cute, he’d have a nice cock on him, I reckon.

I’m thinking about cock-out-boy turning up nervous, and standing in the blind spot to the rest of the gym, and me going over and holding it in my hand just out of sight, as it gets bigger.

I shake my head and peddle harder, clearing my mind of the nonsense. Seriously, I think. 

10:56am. I did 25 minutes on the bike easily listening to the new Stones album. It seemed like 5 minutes, honestly. The Stones should release a new album every week, just for my exercise bike riding at the gym.

I'm sweating when I get off, my t-shirt is wet. That's good, isn't it?

The single girl leaves.

The cute dark haired guy with the cap leaves

A gorgeous dark haired guy with a cap on backwards arrives, just as I finish my 25 minutes on the exercise bike. 

He does Chest Press, as I start on Lat pull down. He's really good looking, I can't help but sneak a few glance of him.

Cable pull down next.

The Taj type is in a black t-shirt and tight black track pants with a nice dick bulge. He’s little and wiry and an armful, I reckon.

Inclined chest press with dumbbells. 10 kilos. Should I put the weights up by now? Nah.

11:11am. Dick-out-boy arrives. I look up and there he is in person. Hey, I think, I didn’t really expect to see him. I avoid eye contact. He looks good though. Those thick legs and solid arse. Black shorts. Black singlet. Tattoo sleeve on his left arm.

I do Goblet Squats at the far end of the gym, turning my back.

He looks adorable all dressed in black. No, he does. I have to acknowledge that.

I do Knee Extensions, sneaking looks at him doing seated row.

I do planking. If I’m doing planking I must be near the end of my workout.

Straight mate with the moustache arrives. A solid guy who has such a whimsical expression on his face the whole time he works out, arrives. He's kind of adorable.

The gorgeous dark haired boy with a cap on backwards arrives back upstairs and gets on that kneeling up machine, which I never really know what it is.

Cock-out-boy and The Taj Type, and the boyfriend type, all in the gym together, just a cute bunch.

11:21am. I leave the gym. I walk out without looking back.

Cock out boy arrived at 11:11am, you know, it is my time 11.11. Should I take anything from that? (David would) He looked gorgeous too, all in black, tight shorts, legs, his dick looking like it’s bouncing around in a pair of boxers. Anyway, not long ago, I would’ve been racing him off by now, had sex with him. Change rooms, back alley, somewhere. But you know, not any more. I like Sam, I wouldn’t swap Sam for the world. After all these years of test driving and putting them through their paces, tasting them and licking them, Sam is my guy. He’s the one. He’s pretty much perfect. I had to work my way through all those princes find my ultimate prince and now I’ve got him, I’m beyond happy with him.

So, what do I care? I don't. This is just a game, something to make the hour pass in a more interesting way than it would have otherwise.

We take Otto for a walk to the Carlton Gardens. The day is grey. No sun. The wind is blowing and it’s kind of cold.

Sam goes to Coles on the way back. Otto and I continue home.

We ate Japanese take away for lunch. Sam went and got it. $80, but Sam reckons it will cover two meals for two people.

Mid afternoon, I make a fire, when it looks like it is going to rain.

I am ambivalent about Hackey Diamonds, from someone who thinks the Stones have never delivered a bad album, but I love the new album.

I generate AI images and re-write blog posts for Feb 2006.

The rain pours down outside.

We don’t leave the house again for the day. In fact, we don’t leave the open fire on this cold, wet winter's day.

Foreign Tongues

It's freezing this morning, bloody cold. It is winter though, so we're expecting what else? Otto and I are cuddled up on the couch keeping each other warm, he is like a heater plugged in next to me.

The new Rolling Stones CD is out today, I suddenly realised half way through the morning. Don't know why I thought it was tomorrow? I've been trying to find it, who has it in stock. None of the city shops have received their stock yet. Just Glen Waverley and Werribee, according to JB online guy, all just a bit too far to drive to really, for someone who is loathed to leave the inner suburbs. I contemplated driving to Glen Waverley, half an hour, or so, but no, I'm not going to.

The city shops are supposed to be getting their stock today, but they haven't yet. The nice guy I spoke to on the phone, in the city shop, said he was getting in quite a lot of stock when it comes in. Grrrr! But it could be Monday, if not today.

I said I'd check back later in the day. he said okay.

We ate chicken curry for lunch.

The sun has come out, finally. So there is finally some warmth in the day. It now looks bright outside. It was even warm to go out and stand in it.

I checked online to see if the city shops came up with stock, early afternoon, but no. But it mentioned something about Brunswick. So, I called Brunswick and they had stock. And yes they would put it aside for me. Lovely.

So much for the online guys telling me to go to Glen Waverley, or Werribee. They must be like Sam, is all I could think, and they don't drive.

Of course, then Sam wanted me to go via Northland to get games for him. So, I called Northland and asked them if they had The Rolling Stones CD so I could get both things at once, two birds, one stone, and cancel Brunswick, but they didn't have it.

So, I went to Brunswick and got it. Sam said not to go to Northland to get his games. I said that I still would, but he said no. I don't know why he said no, but he was definite?

It's good too. The CD, Actually, first listen, I think it is really good.

That's what I did today.

I rewrote old blog posts too, from 2006, in bewteen all that carry on. One day someone might discover my old blog posts. Maybe. 

Dragging My Arse To The Gym

Today its freezing. I'm freezing. Fuck me, it's winter.

Charlie came rushing out to put his ebike on charge. He must be going to use it later, and forgot about charging it. 

He came out in his longJohns, that cling to him, at the best of times. Did he not realise he had a hardon? Surely he must have? It was like he didn't think, just thinking about getting that ebike on charge. Anyway, Good onya Charlie. I don't look at Charlie that way, I don't, but it was hard not to notice. No gay guy is going to complain about a 24 year old with a fat, let me just say.

I've been on the couch all morning, under a blanket, a couple of blankets, re-writing my blogs. Up early, of course. Trying to keep warm.

I have to take Otto for a walk. I should just take him, it would warm me up.

I have to go to the gym, but the thought of putting on shorts and a singlet in this weather makes me shiver just thinking about it.

Brrrrrrr.

I didn't go to the gym on Tuesday, bad Christian. The bitches were at me at work.

I should go to the gym. No, I really should go. I'm going to go. Yes, I am. I am going. I'm shaking with the cold just thinking about it. But I'm going. Going now. Yes, I am. Here I go.

And I went. I did.

Just A Day

It was just a work day, nothing special. Wednesday. Is there anything good that can be said about Wednesday? It was cold, winter cold. I kept stoking the open fire up with wood all day to heat up the lounge room, even though I wasn't in there. It was freezing all day.

And, yes, I think Boris is shitty with me about her holidays, she's been kind of different, can't put my finger on it, but short, and not really very friendly, friendly enough, but kind of pulled back. Not sure if that makes sense. And today she said she was far too busy to help me with something, and she has never said that before.

I can understand, really. I did say yes, and then say no, sure I did. She didn't kind of ask me, though, she just said when she was taking holidays and assumed I'd fill in for her. And I kind of didn't think quick enough what that really ment under the current circumstances. When I really thought about it, on the next weekend, I realised it would be a nightmare and that I really didn't want to do it, and I told her.

Shrug. Last day of the week for me. WooHoo! (There's something good that can be said about Wednesday)

And I don't have to work full time any time in my future. Let's have a cheer for that.

Ha ha.

Go on, bugger off to Lapland. Have a nice time. (not until next month, of course)