Holidays Slipping Away

Apparently, Nicholas is buying dope in ounces now, it's cheaper. He won't run out, either. Nicholas gets really antsy when he runs out. He becomes, almost, single-minded about getting replenished, when that happens. It looks like I might be one of the designated recipients. That'll be every week, will it? There go my plans. Nicholas is never with out.

I know, I know. I can say no.

I had dinner with mum. A year, or so ago, my brother told my mother that he couldn't wait for her to die, he needs her money now. His business wasn't going so well, it's now picked up. Well, it seems the new tactic is just to tell her they are going to spend it. Apparently, my brother is selling his house in Melbourne and paying out his Sydney business partner and buying a beach house in Queensland and he, and my sister, are trying to pressure Lottie into buying him the house he is renting in Sydney, it's up for sale.

See what happens when my favourite goes away, said Lottie.

Listen hear old woman, I said to her. She laughed. It's your money, you do what you like with it. Don't take any notice of them.

I'm not going to, she said.

It's a sad day, I thought. They hardly go near her - we've got children, Chris, you don't. Pigs arse, I say to them. She's equally your mother, we each have had an equal amount of love from her. It's about giving it back when she needs it.

Bloody people and their damn children. Young parents must be the biggest wingers today. My mum worked full time and had three children.

My brother and sister are stepping over the line, fuck them. They can't treat her like an inconvenience.

It was a beautiful night, but cold. Beautiful from inside a heated car.

Manny called me from emergency, he's got a blood-blister on the back of his throat. He called triple O, but they wouldn't send an ambulance. Fancy that. So he called Glen, the guy who was besotted with Manny and who showered Manny with thousands of dollars worth of gifts. (He's a highly paid IT guy, he's got plenty of the stuff)

Why should I say no? said Manny. I'm not asking him to buy anything.

I could think of ten reasons just off the top of my head, I said. At the very top would be having sex for money...

I don't want to hear it, said Manny.

Anything Manny said he wanted, dopey Glen would turn up with it the next day. In the end, I think Glen guilted Manny into bed.

Glen drove him to emergency. There is a touch of the hypochondriac in every Greek (and Italian) boy, to be sure. I think their mothers caress their balls far too long in life, for their own good.

I went over to Tim and Nicholas' for a smoke, as they say.

Nicholas came out of the shower in a towel and stood in front of the fire, while Tim was in the other room. He dried his cock and balls sexily in front of me, then smiled wickedly, his blue eyes sparkling, his black hair shining, his face flushed and headed to his room. I mean, I didn't see anything, but Nicholas is just too cheeky for his own good, when he's high. Tim would be pissed, probably even at that. Nicholas is just a flirt when he's on drugs and let's say, not shy. Boys with big togers like showing them off, it's just a fact of life. I remember late, one party weekend, Tim had been kissing Nicholas on the couch and then left the room and Nicholas looked over at me and asked for a lighter, as he lay their with a boner in his blue tracky pants. He looked me in the eye and smiled his famous grin, but kind of self-conscious. Then he blushed, wickedly, as our eyes acknowledged his cock. Or the time he just fazed out in front of me, on too much of something, playing with himself, oblivious, gazing shirtless into the fire. He was genuinely startled to see me standing there, when I laughed and passed him the joint and said, Nicholas, what are you doing? I know and he knows it's just messing around.

They'd taken ten e's between them for Nicholas' birthday. Nicholas was flying. They'd been going since Friday night, they were still going, they've got the week off. Nicholas was slurring.

Tim showed me the birthday snaps, on the TV, some new remote control digital camera. The camera doesn't half love Nicholas. But he is goddamn beautiful, so what did I expect, I guess.

It was cold as I stumbled home again. I like having people to visit who are with in walking distance. It's neighbourly.

I'm gagging for a shag.

Two days left of my holidays. I haven't done anything about my car. And now I've got pot in my pocket. Doh!

Marvin Gaye sings, What's Goin on.

I'm going to have a pull. Then I'm going to go out for lunch with my friend Loli. I haven't seen her in ages. She's pregnant. She's Italian, her husband is Italian, she has already produced one son for the cause.

Then it's Aby's farewell drinks tonight. She even invited Mark, even if it was on my voicemail. I redirected her to Mark & Luke's home phone.

I don't care, I just want to smoke pot. Four days to go, before I'm back at the salt mine. Fuck it is cold!