Fart in Your Pants

The sun is shining, the sky is blue, all my love I'm sending to you.

Christian

Oh how lovely :-)

It IS a lovely day today. I feel almost human when I'm sitting in the sun in a t shirt...

I dreamed I was swimming at Bondi and I could see. It was so beautiful Christian. I knew it was a dream but I just didn't want to wake up.

But here I am.

Learning to live like this is a difficult road to travel, but there are still things like sunshine and colour and music. I just have to get used to it.

And I've got He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned AND Ab are coming over today.

Just lovely.

I hope you have a good day Christian. Only one to go until the weekend.

xxxx Tom

Well Mr Fletcher, Fart in your pants

Comments to make, statements to say.

First off: I was thinking about that Manny, you know, just the other day. See how I care for your well being. I was thinking – has he shafted (not what you're thinking) that boring Greek guy who's cut yet? And I was also thinking, now come on Josh, don't be like that, he LIKES him very much (well, screwing him, and that's not to be sniffed at) and he'd be cross to hear you think so. But I did. So there. And have you, have you? No, she's still sniffing round the edges, getting sick and saying Maaaaaamy. Nevertheless. The wesh be fleak as they saydedodaday.

Second off: That Tom being better – larvely. Might even send off an email. Gorgy. And you were there for him as he came home – probably a good call that one in some ways, NOT being there. I mean, he prob just went to bed. and then again, maybe not. Perhaps he fell to the floor, perhaps he sighed a little sigh and thought cares noone? And mayhaps not.

Thridly (and I mean thrid): Apakabar, daressalam, ankhor what? whatever. They still remain the Bolago twins so there. And you remain on your sofa – why didn't you accompany them? Why wasn't it you? Why aren't ya dragging ya fat arse over here? That's what I wanna know...

I have today: taught 4 hours, had a substitute lesson, had a 1 hour staff meeting (we are all going to be inspected and the Germans have worked out a scale that enables us to be only excellent, close to excellent or terrible. We are allowed to be Better than excellent and Super excellent, but hitting the acceptable excellent is going to be the crunch) and had a 3 hour extraordinary staff meeting (do we expel 2 kids who bashed another up, filmed it and emailed it off, or not). In an hour I will have a 1/2 hour parents' meeting about why I'm a crap teacher because the kids don't have a set book and I give them handouts and things to write up on the board. Stupid maggots haven't got onto the boat that in Germany books are written in GERMAN so the book they are looking for don't necessarily exist and they WILL be getting handouts for some time. I want to scream at them – you write the book, publish it and I will hand it out to your kids. I will also be asking them – do your kids like history? I reckon they do – I was standing on the table screaming OUT OUT in an Anglo-Saxon accent at someone being a horsebacked Norman knight at Hastings yesty and I saw happy kids, especially dumb ones who wouldn't otherwise like it.

At the Brit school we had a 4 hour parent night on Monday where I told filthy lies.

But I am glad to have things all on same day – if I went home at 2 I would be battling the joint for 5 hours and arriving zippy and with them red eyes (what redeyes?). Now I can prattle to you, get somink to eat and even do some marking.

You know what? I have come around to not panicking anymore and will quit the Germ job and do the Brit one to pay rent. If rent's paid, what am I worried about? And as I'm 37 and not 38 (40) the stress's off – ANY experiences in Berlin are fun remember – I don't NEED to be Mr responsible. So now my aim is to chill out, and get maybe 2 other jobs where I can be Josh. Who knows what they will be. Your advice of course helped. Thanks Dorothy.

What more? I have begun to think more about Emilio as I realised that he was the last person I historically have had sex with. Mercy me! He reckons he's coming but no date...

And... all is honky dory with Bern – luvely. Had 5 year anniv last night. He wants to adopt and is finally doing things about it... Gawd.

It be cold here – we've had snow, and there's 5 weeks of school to go – yippee! So I am a marking machine. Mark me baby.

And that's all you get.

Josh

Ouch! Sweetie OUCH! I just had a root-canal filling. The first part of. Next part in 4 weeks. Not that it hurt, no, not for a minute. The ouch is coming out of my wallet. Fucken ouch! My advice to you – since you seem to take it so readily (mental Emilio aside) – go to the dentist regularly and look after your teeth. This has cost me thousands of dollars.

Drinking grapefruit juice with a half anaesthetised mouth is an odd feeling, let me tell you.

What book are you screaming at me to write?

Ah yes, the lovely Manny. No, I’m not cross about your nasty thoughts, because you know and I know that you are right. But when he’s got his jocks around his thighs and he has those beautiful lips puckered… thoughts about what? Who? What other men?

I know. I know. And I’m rather, kind a, sort of, in an unexpected turn of events, maybe, would now like a… a… well, let’s face it, a whole heap of trouble… boy… f… f…f … of sorts. So there’s a thing, hey? And as lovely as Manny is… no, he is… HE IS… he’s not that. So there. Sage like advice would be welcomed.

A handsome (25 year old) boy on gaydar just messaged me for sex. He has a cock that he classifies as xtra-large, what should I do? But, I think, really, as I’m not one for wanting it whopped up me, do I really care if his cock is enormous or simply huge? I ask you? But the real problem with him – now this is where you may get confused – is that he is a six foot three Tim – not to be confused with me flatty. 6.3… what would I do with a boy 6.3? I’d have to get a milk crate.

Tom is home in Dingley Dell… not altogether happy, as he’s still very frail. Now that he is out of his confined environment and with the big, wide world around him, I think, it is much more apparent to him how much of his eye-sight he has lost. So he’s struggling, he can’t see and he’s dropped twenty five kilos. So, although he is out of hossy, there is still quite a long road for him to travel. Another six months is the diagnosis for his recovery. Can you imagine how you’d be feeling if you were confined to your parent’s house with very limited means of escape? Can you? Huh! Well, just let me paint the picture that I would see of you in such a predicament.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE ME THE GODDAM PILLS!

Oh no, young Gale, there’d be nothing but tears. (spitting, biting and splashing of blood!) It wouldn’t be pretty.

So all in all, I think Tom is doing remarkably well. Reg and He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned were off to visit him today. He’s asked me a couple of times when I am going to make the big trip.

I didn’t go OS with Mark and Luke because I took my holidays when I had a dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear friend visiting me from Germany earlier in the year.

You know, you make teaching sound so attractive.

I’ve got so lazy lately. I’ve been in bed early, which of course means I’m up early. Work has been a struggle. You know, all I ask is that I have semi-competent people around me, not much to ask. But no, as you know, the world is full of idiots and most of them work for Salt Mines, Sydney office to be precise. But I’ve dobbed them into the big boss and they are getting their arses kicked, big time. He, he, he, you gotta love it!

Are you an idiot, what have I told you about taking my advice?

Christian

Sometime later…

I've been smoking bongs with the lovely Nicholas.

Um… yes.

Nicholas and I went to play pool at Trade. I played like shit, well, after all them bongs, who doesn't play like shit? He won two, I won one. We drank schooners of beer and were quite pissed by the time we’d finished.

Tim had to work late. He’s been doing the big proposal to get the work contract renewed.

The lighting over the pool table is barely improved from what it’s always been. I thought about Tom and how he wouldn’t be able to play any more. It made me feel sad to think it.