Baby Eyes & Maggots

 SMS. 6.30. Top of the morning to you miss. How are you? – Tom

SMS. 7.12. Morning. Everything just fine so far – Christian

“Did you see Nicholas’ eyes this morning?”

“No.”

“Stoned as! He had a brecky bong.”

I did go to work, even if the two entries either side may suggest otherwise.

I was so shagged by 5.30. It’s a long day, that one back after three days sick leave.

Cute Tony F. came into see how I was. We went down for a couple of cigarettes. I feel so comfortable with him, I could lean over and pash him sometimes. Of course, I haven’t told him I’m gay. I’m not going to pash him, I’m not even going to try, don’t worry about that. He’s straight. But there’s something about the twinkle in his baby-blue eyes.

Mark and Luke

By the way, I hate you for Angkor Wat... I meant to mention that last night. (Ed note – when I looked I didn’t send them an email last night. I really must write those emails and then smoke that pot, not the other way around.)

Apparently, two packages have arrived for you. Xmas is early. (I told Leah B. that she and I should open them next weekend)

Leah B.'s girl’s weekend went fine, until maggots started falling from the ceiling of one of the girl’s bedrooms. Apparently, she screamed... he, he, he! (The maggot needs better PR)

Who does your lousy PR, Sweetie?

Well, actually, you do!

But they raved, blah, blah, blah, as they do. (You can spare me the retelling, I’ve heard it all before) Leah B. says they’ll be back. They told Leah B she never talked it up to the level that it is, or some such thing.

Richard came over to fix it – maggots, dead thing – but no one could find the man-hole to get into the ceiling. (I thought it was in the laundry, or just outside the laundry, but apparently not)

I went to work today... I've been a truant for two days, actually three, it's been glorious. I hardly take sickies, (no I don’t!) but when I do, it’s like a drug – or Oliver Twist.

Left in the comp, now let me see. Ann was bumped last night, Milly the week before that. Hang on, there was one in between. Oh... the Greek boy, James was last week.

Whose left, Emily, Kate, Dan, Daniel, Lee (who has actually sung a few slow numbers lately, but I still don't get the attraction) Is there another girl? Mmmm? No, he says quietly, I think that’s it.

I've taped a bit of it, but, last night, was the first time I've been in Fitzroy since you left. But I will tape more for you. I taped their own choice show but, surprisingly, it was probably one of their worst showings.

My tooth hurts a bit. Silver paper hurt, not throb hurt, but it’s okay.

I just asked Tim if he could think of any good news, because I could only think of... buttercups and daisies... you know, the usual stuff. Keep them frightened! But he couldn’t.

Tim got a promotion and is now working his arse off. He’s off to Sydney for the rest of the week. He so doesn’t want to go.

The best I can do is that Bette Midler released a CD of Peggy Lee numbers.

Beck went to He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned and got her hair cut.

Missy loves her new mouse toy.

Danni Minogue wore tight gold hot pants.

Janet Jackson may, or may not, have an eighteen year old, daughter love child... who’s a wonderful singer, what’s more. (Will the Jackson Empire live on?)

I’m just thinking that there was something else I was supposed to tell you... say hello from... salutations and all the best... something funny... something... but what? Who can say? It doesn’t have that earth shatteringly important rumble to it... the memory I don’t have, that is. Just on a nice level, you miss out. Oh well. Something. I think someone said to say hello, actually. Memorable, weren’t they? You are probably better off. Well, if I can’t remember them, then they probably aren’t worth knowing anyway, let’s face it.

So... Christian

Hommer Simpson got a place in the top ten men of the decade.

My only question was, in the year 2005, what, the hell, decade are we talking about?

I just got up from my seat to get something out of my bag in the atrium, but I forgot what it was. I came back and sat down. I remembered what it was, got up from my seat, but had forgotten by the time I got to the atrium again. All I could remember was it was in my bag.

I made a cup of tea. I still couldn’t remember.

I came back and sat down, to be confronted by the mulli and the mull bowl. Now where are those cigarettes, so I can roll that damn joint?

Not my first. You can tell?

Josh

I just got up from my seat to get something out of my bag in the atrium, but I forgot what it was. I came back and sat down. I remembered what it was, got up from my seat, but had forgotten by the time I got to the atrium again. All I could remember was it was in my bag.

I made a cup of tea. I still couldn’t remember. I danced around the kitchen, still nothing.

I came back and sat down, to be confronted by the mulli and the mull bowl. Now where are those cigarettes, so I can roll that damn joint?

Not my first. You can tell?

Christian

Christian

Yes well I KNOW I know I know. But what? That is the question. Yes I've got it yes indeedy do, but WHAT exactly was it? It must be obvious but WHAT?

I have been playing Nursey for 5 days now. Bern got the flu. Here's the difference in attitude – Sunny Australian: Yippee! (instead of crabs) I've got the flu – I can stay home from work and lie around all day, way-hay! Moribund German: This may be my LAST DAY. He has been wonderful until now – I got so many boyfriend points from him and he from me – hugs, I'm so glad you're with me Torb; come lie by me; sleep with me tonight Schnukkie – but then yestdy he turned, turned like something that turns, turned like a turning thing – and like lovely Herr Doktor Jeckyll he has been seething disapproval myways. Why? Who can say...I had Monday off and smoked a few? Yet I have been constantly chopping pumpkins and making soups and lovely ginger teas (chopping chopping) all without having been commanded to, let alone asked to. Yet after beginning to come to the light and having made potatoes for lunch, for us both (was that it?), she turned. At 4 pm she announced she was off to the quack – so with the lunch appetite thing I figured after 4 days this was signs of recovery, espesh as we had been to a party (inseparable, like Siamese twins we were truly in love with – and all over – each other. I was to write to you – Bern is so perfect he should be sick more often, feeble he is a loveable lamb, adorable, appreciative, sweetheart and definitely THE ONE. But as the aforementioned turning one, one must re-evaluate – she declined my offer to come shopping with him after Quack (we must have bread! – actually, we can do quite well on cereals actually), but no... So I was a bit surprised to be woken at 6.30 with the statement/question: would you care to go and buy bread and fruit (Fruit, fruit! I must have fruit! or I...). Bern, Sure I'll go, but when will you learn that there is a third way – to say can you go to the shops for me please, and not Go! or this convoluted shit, would I care and no please? So natch I go, saying there aren't that many bakeries open at 7pm and fruit, why didn't he ask for it before? Bread I can do, but it's raining, the shops are shut and it's dark – also being sullen doesn't impress me and what was up his arse this morning since he's so noncommunicative? Fine I'll go myself Petulousia snarled. Right, no fruit for you Mister.

But I got the fruit from the Turkish shop – figs and apples and a loaf of bread – VERY unusual as their bread is different. And when I got home – that's NOT the bread I can eat, you know it. So I snitted and spat not happy Jan and until we said nightie night we both fumed at differing ends of the apartment. I have to do everything he said. Well who changed the sweaty bedsheets and doona cover, did the washing up and has been nursey for this weekend? No recog Doll none. Fat thing, Live or die.

Anyway, this is meant to amuse you with the petty goings on of boyfriends while yours are frittering away your inheritance in Vietnam. I foresee tropical hurrican Wonton Suzie tsunamying any minute now, gushes of cascading cascades cascading along in cascading gushes, cascades of gush gushing out over and smotheringly upon them denuded scratched lobster-red little corpselike bodies, nay, lifelike as they feebly signal to the helicopter – I'm alive I'm alive. But no – means NAS to our helicoptered pith helmeted friends as they scour the gushcading cashes for fat hard plunder – digicams and mobiles and things of real worth. Not for the Vietnamese military these white boy whizzie-whazzes, it's cash or gushes that's all that counts these days down Truac Phuon Huc beach these days, lemme tell ya.

But no, such happy thoughts shall not prelude: come come I say! Say nice things I say, nice things like puppy dog breath and the smeared ends of thermometers up 14 year old bottoms. That's the spirit.

Now where were we? I reckon Bern will get out of it but gee I was liking him something huge two days ago. How fast can a thing that can turn turn?!

School sux Shazza, Gemme outa here! I met a nice lady at this party on the weekend who said that I had eminently employable skills for Berlin post teaching and that I should just full on network and throw myself out there. She organises exhibitions and needs Anglos to do the English bits but also with a historical and education background I am pretty hot. Well, did I mention my two years of volunteering at the Australian Museum? So maybe before we can say Jehosephat (Jehosephat) there is a realistic hope of switching away from this teaching thing – each day that I remain humane to the kids I am grateful, that's the deal. Of course it's a fine and decent and top job if your heart's in it but I seem not to give too much of a stuff if it involves, er, work...

Emilio has been ringing and wanting me to beg him to come to Europe. I can hardly remember what he looks like (that's how it started, I seem to recall) and am perfectly fine with Bern, but anyway, she threw a mental at his job and got sacked/resigned and now, had he the moolah, she COULD come and root me rotten all January long. But will he come that is the 65 mill question. As I resolutely say things like we could play together but don't plight my troth, well, who can say...? I'm not encouraging him to fall for me but I'd gladly root with him for a month and make life a little bit more complicated. But as Bern's like all thumbs up (very aroused by the whole idea) what's to complicate?

Nati the Polish-Israeli is getting more and more cute. I mean he IS very cute and knows it but he has connected with me re Alex Dimitriades and like a thing that is like a gem, he has materialised from the Polish files, his Hebrew subtitled Head On and we have been watching it. This version (like the Australian?) has full on dick with young Alex rolling around and has been quite a memory laner. Gotta love them wogs I say. It was almost too much for Bern to follow but then again, I dare say Lord of the rings middle episode was like something also that was like a thing you don't understand because you don't know what orcs are or the Anglo-Saxon references, or why Gollum is inherently racist as an Asian caricature, and all them Maoris having a good time hoofing it in black costumes being Urukhai for a good 6 months and all that. Hallo Nyewzullund I sid, hillo!

Nevertheless. And then there's you. Lovely spinning around what's in my pocket you. Spin over here sunshine, we could spin around together. Whirl whirl – I can feel the music! I am the Lizard-Queen and all of it. We could go to parties and I could also oggle them party boys from the South side who give it away after some horse-hormones and a crack or two. Them's called sluts Christian, slappers, slags – YES they ARE giving it away if they can dose the boyfriend – them's thwack it in territory that it be. It's not like the civilised come hither nature of the House of 1000 steps for example, where dainty lad meets breathy boy. No, they may not be able to spell Prahran but they can say South Yarra cause it's not too hard. South Yarra Abdullah they say to the taxi driver as they comatosedly vomit and roll into the back seat. And hurry shuga, they add, miming Madonna does Abba to their equally irredescandtly puked trade. Nah, three Faces, they maw, it's only 4am! And then the inevitable: Where canna girl get some COCK around here!? I tell you, slip it in sweetly Club 80 it ain't. And as you're an innocent someone needs to tell you, all lace and black sweetmeats up there in your attic. No! No! Don't open the door she'll get out and be the ruin of us all they said back then back there. And so locked up you have been, scotting along in your thoughts, composing composing, wording wording, scribble scrable, tippetty tap.

Ramble ramble ramble, rumble rumble rumble. Are ya satisfied yet?

How many words can this be?

And answer me this – if it says fill my tight ass with your hot cum one IS obliged to rent it isn't one? Should it say nasty shemales meet uncut horse-cox down on the rocks in Rio's worst slums tis the same? How do they get such 12 year olds I'll never know – what exactly is IN their beans that makes them such (confident) whoppers, wangs definitely included? Do they wanged need to go to hospital, surely not with them smiles, but each uncertain fart, whiff of tears (or tears as in rip), or gaggy inhalation has a tale of its own to tell I'm afraid... Surely there's something in that for all of us, would you not say?

I have a mate from Slovenia from the human rights camp in Switz coming soon. She wants ta take me mushrooms. I wanna shag'er. Stick it in whish whish. We will see – she is however only 22 and smarter, funnier and integritier than me by a million. I laugh and laugh and try and try but still she is smarter, funnier. Were she a boy... But it matters not. I am liberated huh?

Well I hope you have found what was in ya bag.

I intend to wait for your love-'im-a-mile-away response, because you too, are very funny.

Josh

ps did I telly a about pony riding the weekend before last? We saw cranes migrating, geese overhead, three stags enantlered and I had the same walking problem and derrière feeling (ie pounded) afterwards for a day that I had had apropos Emilio I happily called him and said I was thinking of him. Twas lovely.

Josh