Simple Minds

Josh

Well, I’ve had a hell of a week! Bunch of cunts! I’ve had to deal with a bunch of cunts! Actually, one cunt in particular. Little bitch in Sydney, who is breathtakingly incompetent, incredibly lazy and a liar, to boot. I day dream of her being repeatedly punch in the face, teeth breaking, cartilage cracking, blood spurting, as a couple of fat, mean, biker dudes take turns in raping her. Watch the cellulite wobble on her thighs as they analy defile her. Something big and cold shoved down her throat so she can’t scream, as the fat bastards double penetrate her, sans lube. Ripping the hair from her scalp! Perhaps her hands tied behind her back, as she assumes the execution position, a la Iraqi terrorist ransom videos. Bloodied face and torn snatch, dripping blood-coloured spoof, that’s what she deserves. Details never to be released to the public stamped across her file at the morgue. It’s the only thing that cheers me up, when I think of her. Nasty little rat-faced, buttoned up, bun on her head, bitch. Yes, that image does jolly me somewhat. Gets me through the day. Got me through the week.

And how are you?

I’m out of coffee! 7am Saturday. How did this happen? I want an inquiry!

You’ll be glad to know that I gave To Amnesty International. They asked me in Bourke Street and I said, “Oh yes, I guess I had better. Otherwise my friend Josh would be cross.” She laughed, nervously, not knowing what to say. She gave me a lovely orange badge, which I pointed to eagerly when I was asked by other Amnesty International tin shakers. A very cute young man, still in school uniform, smiled and thanked me, as I walked past him picturing him down on all fours with my cock sliding up his arse.  He was a big boy for fifteen, would have had hair though. Very tasty. I’ve had a few ped moments lately. It must be an age thing. There seems to be a lot of well developed school boys wandering into my vicinity. But the wog-boy on the tram took the prize. Blue school uniform that obviously was last years fit. What he had stuffed down his pants… he caught me looking, as he stood there. He almost smiled. I wasn’t sure if he got it, until he gazed down, kinda checking himself out. He didn’t mind, being looked at that is. You gotta love 21st Century straight boys. Show ponies, every one of them

Shake of the head. Slap to the face. Enough of that.

Now where are you? And what are you doing? I seem to remember endless travelling before you make it home to our fair shores. (Please don’t tell me I wasn’t listening)

It’s got all wintry cold here. Still sunny, still blue skies, but the air bites you when you venture out. I’ve just been to get coffee, it’s now brewing. I’ll be nice very soon. Sugar and spice, not puppy dogs tails. Snow drops on eye-lashes, no bee stings. No dog bites. Just brown paper packages.

I haven’t stopped for weeks. Last weekend it was a wedding at Bolago. The weekend before was my first girlfriends fortieth in Sydney. Worked to mid night several days this week. Thanks to rape victim. (see above) By the time I collected the cat from the vet – new cat, Missy. Have I told you about her? – on Thursday night, I was done in. Abscess of the leg, from fighting. Cats will be cats, I guess. I have to give her antibiotics and I’m supposed to pull the scab of the wound for a few days. Ooo! So it doesn’t heal on top and not underneath. I gave it a go yesterday but couldn’t get hold of it. I best give it another go today. Not a happy cat when I tried. Grrr all the way.

She’s very sweet, has a foot fetish and can often be found curld around my foot asleep…as she is now.

So this weekend I’m locking the world out. Abys gone to Bolago. I’ve got the house to myself. So, I guess it’s time to have a few boys over. Well, perhaps one.

Chris is gone, happily…rock of the hand… married to a boy named Christian. I’ve tried to get him to cheat on him a couple of times, but he’s too sweet for that. But I do get him hot and bothered. We had phone sex. (That doesn’t count as cheating?) He came into see me at work the other day. He’s just been going to the gym, that’s all he does. He lifted his shirt in Bourke Street saying he thinks he’s looking good. “Don’t worry, you’ll see me naked again.” Cheeky smile. He is looking good. He misses sex with me and said, “We both know relationships don’t last and when it’s over I’ll be back in your bed, quick.”

The next day one of my favourite girls from work and I were in the kitchen. As we walked back to our offices she said, “Who was that guy who came into see you yesterday?”

“Do you want the polite answer or do you want the truth?”

“I want the truth,” she said.

“He’s a friend,” I said.

“I said I wanted the truth,” she replied

I laughed. How do you say to a girl at work, “He’s my favourite wog-boy root?”

But I have been playing with another nice boy. Handsome face, beautiful eyes, looks a bit like a wog-boy, but isn’t. (I must get a new supply of lube and condoms)

Apparently, they all know I’m gay at work now. One of the blond haired blue-eyed types is flirting with me, I reckon. I just keep telling myself that it is all in my mind. Wont get into trouble that way. And I reckon one of the IT guys is flirting with me too. I think the same in the mind thing with him too. Although, he’s a boy with an English accent, which I have a weakness for. I reckon I just need a Greek boy with an English accent. Pig heaven!

Some time later…

No marijuana for days. It’s good. But I’m back on the ciggies… er! Although, Tim now says he can get it for me cheap, $65… gotta love that. Except I’ve given it up. I’ve given it up. I’ve given it up…

Sydney was good. It’s always nice to get up there. I need more reasons to go. It is such a gorgeous city. I was up there with my group of friends who have all know each other for twenty five years, or so. I’ve known Leah since she was twelve. So we all get along, as you would imagine, really well. I’m so lucky to have them, as well as all me gay buddies. Life’s good Little One, now that I think about it. Now that I’ve had a day off to relax and shake out the weeks burdens.

And right on queue, Leah started calling her hubby Steve Christian… it’s a bad habit she has. She doesn’t mean to, but… Stevie boy gets a bit uncomfortable about it. Big sook!

I’ve been dancing around the lounge room singing along to all my favourite songs. (I bet you wish you were here) I should have been a famous singer. I could have dropped by Berlin and we could have done the whole Cabaret trip, for a weekend. Now I just have to become a famous – read famous to always mean fabulously well paid – writer and I could drop by Berlin and we could afternoon tea and a book reading.

Aby and I are writing a 21st century version of Hansel and Gretel – if my fucking printer cartridge would work. I did a synopsis thingy and Aby’s been writing the script. Kinda the wrong around, granted, but there you go.

More coffee!

I had to give pussy another antibiotic tablet… there is nothing so penetrating as pussy distain! I couldn’t find her last night, so she has to have 3 today. “Will ya stop shoving things down my throat!” Typical woman. Apparently.

The Schulumbergeras are just coming into bloom. Pretty as a picture.

A little later…

Actually, it’s hot out there. I went down the street in a jumper and I sweltered. Lovely! The sun and the warmth and not the sweating, you understand. The hustle and bustle of Smith Street. That eclectic mix of people. You just gotta love it. The Turkish deli is fantastic. I bought veggies and fruit and dolmades and it all only cost thirteen dollars. I bet you those Turkish blokes have a few cute sons between them tucked away at home. I bet ya they do. Do Turkish boys have…

The whole day to myself, to do as I please. You gotta love that too! Bette Midler has been getting a spin on the cd player, as has Renee Geyer… well, I never claimed not to be gay.

Now I’m on the phone to Orange to see if I can finally download my photos.

Hours later…

Hooray! Photos finally downloaded and even backed up on CD. Impressed?

Jasus, I look old. Oh well. Thirty years of smoking….

The guy on the other end was very patient. Kind of spooky though. He kinda said my name like a computerised voice. There was a movie, I wish I could remember what it was called, which had a computer running the show. It used to say, Christian. How are you going Christian? What’s happening Christian? Kind of overtones of an American accent.  Just a bit. But I can’t remember what movie that was, so there you go.

Anyway, I’m off to steam some broccoli.

Smack to you.

Gerber