Lovely Carl

This photo reminds me of a straight boy I used to have a thing with. It's not him - I don't know this guy - but he bares an uncanny resemblance to the lovely Carl. The photo bought back such vivid memories. It's funny the people we let go of, as I did with Carl, for no apparent reason. I wonder what he is doing now? I guess, he is living his life happily, probably not far from where I'm living mine, as he always lived in the next suburb. It's funny the people we used to know and the lives they have probably lived.

He was gentle and sweet and really lovely, not to mention the obvious crush he used to have on me. He was my first straight boy crush. He used to seek me out at dance parties and clubs; he used to give me his jacket, if I was cold, he used to hold my hand as we walked through the crowd, he wouldn't let me out of his sight. Once, he gave me his singlet because he thought I'd look sexy in it. We used to dance the night away and he used to look at me with that look of adoration, attraction, that other boys did. I guess, I looked at him the same way.

My boyfriend didn't mind, he thought it was adorable and sweet.

His girlfriend didn't mind, she used to say to me, I don't mind if Carl is with you, he really likes you a lot, you know. Apparently, I was the only "other" person in his life, their life. She gave me her blessing, I guess, because she knew I'd always give him back. I just wanted to play with him, I didn't want to keep him. I was happy for him to go home at the end of the night, well, not always straight away, but, Annie didn't mind that either.

I like him being with you, she'd say. I don't always want to go out. (Carl always wanted to go out, he was a party boy) I know he's safe, we're safe, when he is with you.

They were both gorgeous. Enlightened people. I hope they are still together.

Woe Is Me – Or Let Me Whine, Just For A Minute, Because It Is My Blog

I went over to Manny's last night and pulled a muscle over my rib cage, on my left side. And that was just from sitting on the couch, while we were watching the Academy Awards, leaning on his shoulder. I've got this strange cold that has developed straight into a dry, persistent cough. My small toe - second small toe - still hurts from where I landed on it when fell down the stairs, a few days a go - when I turned mid-step to go back to check if I turned the iron off. My right knee is still clicking, although it's not painful - I just thought I'd mention that.

Oh, and I've got an infect sore on my left elbow, from me inexplicably (How many pots did I have?) picking at it at the pub (That's the Laird for home sick Melbourne boys) last Friday night, which is now oozing puss, whenever I squeeze it.

I'm a wreck! How old did I say I was?

Tonight, I started the coughing thing, clutched my pulled muscle, as it hurt mid cough and kicked the single step into the kitchen, again, with my damaged toe. That hurt so much, I nearly choked on some half coughed-up phlegm - I'm sure you wanted to know that small fact - as I went to grab from my aching side to my throbbing toe, which only made me start to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. At which point, I started to cough again, which made my side shoot with pain again, which caused me stand heavily down on my sore toe, after which I nearly collapsed, completely onto the floor, seeing stars.

I headed to bed, after that.

Monday Homeward Bound

Ah Monday, there is a cool breeze blowing across the, not so, muggy day. People are smiling, as the heat is kept at bay. Hoorah, hoorah, they all say. Or was that just me? He, he, I think, as the blue sky curls around the fluffy clouds; wisps across the sky. The Rainbow Lorikeets twitter from the Jacaranda trees, as if in play. I watch them fly and wonder what it would feel like to be so free. The gardens have been dug for the autumn show. The agapanthus are blue, but, then again, aren't they always.

I cross between the banked up traffic going slow and out-walk them all. The drivers look hot and bothered stopped in the peak hour and I think that may be I am free. Not time-tables, no red lights for me, just one foot in front of the other. A bus turns across my path, even though I have a green man. Ah well, what does it matter?

Bike riders weave around me. The skater boy goes "clack" over the gutter. An old lady strolls with an equally old dog, as though time has completely stopped for her. She smiles back at my smile at her and tilts her head just so. I imagine her saying, How do you do? How do you do, I think in return. She has grey hair and skin like fine, cracked, porcelain and a serene demeanour.

The trams go clunk, clunk by. The elms wave their majestic branches, down Victoria Parade. I walk between them, feeling small.

The traffic snarls, but not at me. Engines roar as the lights turn green, like something depends on them being first.

The tree's shadows are dappled on the path, in my street, a gentle breeze blows, as I see my front gate.

Hot Summer

It's the first morning, for a very long time, where it has felt cool when I have walked around to the shops. There was a cool breeze down Gertrude Street, fresh and crisp. I don't think I have felt that for the longest time. It's been warm and sticky at 8am, for months.
Global warming? You don't have to tell me anything. It's been constantly hot, muggy, for a very long time. I don't think I've sweated so much in all my life. Personally, I'm hoping it's signalling the end of summer. Come on Autumn, that's what I'm saying. I can't wait for the leaves to turn orange and yellow and fall gently to the earth, floating down on a cool breeze.

Let's hear it for winter.

Anyway, I'm off to the country. Enjoy the city heat.

Life's Good

It's amazing what a couple of weeks can do. Jasus! This time last month, I was stressing about my finances heading south, big time! I thought, I was going to run out of money, for the first time in my life. I couldn't sleep there for a few nights.

My new car cost me all my savings - actually, in the end, it didn't really, but it felt like it at the time, especially, when a bunch of big bills rolled in, also.

But then, I pulled in my spending habits - although I'm still smoking - and took a good look at the state of the Christian nation and today, it's not so bad. It's funny how stress begets stress. It's funny when you are going down that path of anxiety, it all seems much worse than it really is. Lottie slipped me a couple of thou, sure, - I'm the dutiful son, after all - as did Mark - if you can't rely on your partner, he said. Besides, I've been helping him with his business for a couple of years without ever asking for any thing in return. Usually, I'm not very good at asking for help, it's an admission of failure, in a sense. It's a pride thing, sure.

I've still got to pay a couple of thou on the car repairs, thank you crap RACV, but hell, that can be put off for the time being, a couple of months, if I'm lucky.

Life's good, I'm whistling a happy tune.

Life's good, is my mantra, as I walk out of the building after work, every night. Just say it. Life's good. It's a good, positive affirmation. I think, if you think miserable thoughts, you will be.

I feel great.

Dinner with Lauri

It was my ex, Lauri's birthday, last Tuesday, so I went over to his parent's place for a big wog dinner. He's in Australia, with his current boyfriend, for a few weeks. There were the parents, the uncles and the aunties, the brother's and the sisters, nieces and nephews and the friends, gay and straight. I so love those big, wog family get-togethers, they are really cool. Big and noisy and food forever. English and Italian; conversations where one person is speaking one language and the other person is answering in another.

The food was cooked outside in the kitchen in the garage and on the BBQ and laid out in side and we all ate on a big long table in the garden, between the vegi patch and the rabbit hutch. Everybody chatting, laughing and drinking, into the night.

Lauri and I got caught smoking a J when his mother and other gusts came out the front. His mother's only reaction was to call us cheeky boys. I love his mum, she's gorgeous and she always loves to see me. Then we smoked it with a few of the rels standing around, admiring the olive tree and the lemon tree and nobody seemed to care. Wog families are so carefree when it comes to some things that Aussie families would freak out about... and then they're weird about other things that Aussie families wouldn't care about. I think that's why I love my time with them, different values, different ways of living.

It's such a big, extended family, loving, melting pot, Lauri and his family. I told him he was lucky and he replied, To think I was embarrassed by them for so many years.

We ate, we drank and we all sang happy birthday. Lauri, of course, had three cakes, the prodigal son, after all, returned. His birthday is such an occasion, he just loves it.

Towards the end of the night when the guys had had plenty of wine, they started saying that nephew Carlo - Lauri's sister's 17 year old son - was definitely... I'd never thought that before, I've known him since he was four, after all. Then I caught his eye catching mine and he smiled and he kept looking, as I deliberately looked at him. He was coy and sweet and blushed a little, but mostly he smiled and sparkled. Yep, I thought. How about that? I reckon he is one for our team. Cute Carlo, who'd have thought? It had never crossed my mind before.

Then I realised he was looking over at me all the time, after that. What beautiful, big, brown eyes, he has. What a cute smile. So I kept catching his eye and he kept looking and smiling and looking away and looking back. Whenever I spoke, he seemed to be inordinately interested in what I was saying.

The siblings and the guys were the last to leave.

As we were all leaving, Carlo was standing in front of me, as we waited for everyone to get their shit together and say good bye. I was bad, I couldn't help myself. I ran my eyes down Carlo to the bulge in his shorts and then back up again. He blushed and instinctively moved his hand in front of his pants and then blushed and smiled and his eyes looked at me with a burning intensity, fixed on me. I smiled and he smiled in acknowledgment, we connected there and then, standing between the garage and the side gate, as the other's chatted in the distance. Then his mother came out with his sister and said, Come on lets go and Carlo left, looking back at me until he was around the corner of the house and out of sight.

When I got out the front, he announced, to me, proudly that he was driving his mother's new Honda. I smiled and said great and his eyes stayed locked on me. I smiled and said good bye and he did to. He waved enthusiastically, as I drove off.

Silly hey, but I couldn't get the smile off my face, as I drove away. I wondered if he had his uncle's big... well, you know what I wondered... probably, I thought, and then I smiled even more.

The Incompetence of the R.A.C.V.

R.A.C.V. vehicle inspections are not worth the paper they are printed on. Apparently, their mechanics are so easily fooled by car salesmen’s tricks that they can’t spot an oil leak when they see one.

“We can’t report on it if the car has been cleaned before we get there, said the manager of vehicle inspections.

If the car salesmen clean the oil leak before the R.A.C.V. mechanic gets there, it renders the R.A.C.V. mechanic incapable of seeing it.

“So you are admitting to incompetence?” I said. “Surely that is the job you have been paid to do?”

“If we can’t see it, we can’t tell you.”

“So you are telling me that used car salesmen’s smoke and mirrors get the better of you?”

“I don’t think you understand what I am saying?”

“On the contrary, I understand very well.”

I, literally, bought a car that I wouldn't have bought, certainly not without some repairs being done before I bought it, if it weren't for the R.A.C.V. giving the car the green light, telling me that it was free of faults that the car, actually, had.

The R.A.C.V.'s incompetence has cost me $2,200.00. Beware!

Running With G

G talked me into going running, last night. Well, it was more of a walk, my knee is still clicking badly. I’m sure I can feel bones rubbing together. Clunk, clunk. Clunk, clunk.

Come on you pussy, run, he said, as I slowed to a walk.

Na-ah!

Ah-ha!

Na-ah!

We were doing our best cheesy, American sitcom take-offs.

I can’t, my knees crap, I said. I warned you before we came out.

You girl.

You’re a girl.

Am not.

Are so…

Then he pulled down the front of his shorts and waggled his cock at me, in the middle of Fitzroy Gardens.

Not a girl!

Put it away…

So you reckon the boys would like it?

(It’s funny how straight boys, at least, want to know they are desirable, even to guys. G normally appears quite chuffed when I tell him one of my gay mates fancies him)

I remember the time he came around in a panic, his girl friend, actually, his wife at the time, had managed to stick her nail extension up his piss slit when she’d been pulling him off and he had bled every where, profusely. He whipped it out and asked me if I thought it looked damaged.

I gave him the same answer then, as I did now.

Make it hard and I'll tell you.

Ha, ha!

Sure the boys would like it…you seem to want to.

Ha, ha, said G, again.

If you waxed your back, that is.

What’s wrong with my…he looked over his shoulder, at which point he realised he had a t-shirt on. He punched me on the arm. It hurt.

You know, when I think about it, G and I almost have a teenage relationship. We’re like brothers, teenage brothers, in a strange kind of sense. He only ever had sisters and I was never close with my brother, so we have that relationship that we would have had with close brothers. We play, we muck around, we kid with each other. We talk the biggest load of shit, really. I guess we've know each other for quite some time.

He says he can mess around with me, flash his cock, ask me if I think he needs to trim his pubes, be quite intimate with hugs and kisses, he always wants me to massage his shoulders and stuff like that, because he knows I’d never hit on him…like a brother. And I would never hit on him, it would be like hitting on my own brother. Oooo! (grimace) is my only reaction at the thought of getting sexy with G.

Some of my mates still reckon G wants to have sex with me.

No, he doesn't, is always my answer.

You’re kidding yourself.

No, I’m not.

Damned if they do and damned if they don’t – being comfortable with gay guys, or not being comfortable with them. You know, at the extreme, they are either homophobic or closet cases; sometimes, in a sense, they just can’t be comfortable with who every one is. We don’t always let them, well, that’s what G says.

So we walked around Fitzroy Gardens, G complaining the whole way.

Come on, run a bit.

Walk a bit, you tosser.

I’ll never burn enough carbs at this rate.

And you've got those luv handles developing nicely too…

What! (He doesn't have an ounce of fat on him) He twisted at the waist like a super model.

I ran a bit, just to shut him up. The dappled shadows from the elms were beautiful.

Do you think I need a hair cut?

Well, now that you mention it.

And what are you trying to say with your hair? he said, in his best Queer Eye for the Straight guy voice. (I am in desperate need of a hair cut, it is true) Is long hair back in? Or are you planning the op, some time soon?

Nah, just been busy.

Well, you’ll never get a guy looking scruffy like that, he lisped. Let me tell you maaate! Turning from bitch to butch on the turn of his thick, neck muscles.

Ha, ha, I said. At least I can be faithful.

Get fucked! He punched my arm, again.

Well, have you?

Get fucked!

Well?

Yes, he said, suddenly sounding exasperated. You've taught me well.

G used to say that he could screwed around on his girlfriends because he knew it was only sex and it didn't mean any thing. But if his girlfriend screwed around on him, it meant she didn't love him and she wasn't committed to him. He could tell me that with an absolute straight face and mean it. That, amazingly, took many, many hours, years of discussion to convince him otherwise.

He pulled his t-shirt off. How am I looking?

You look great, you big poofter. He’s been doing gym 6 days a week and he really does look great.

He smiled. (He’s just been in Queensland) I put on my red speedos (he ran his hands over his crotch) and went and sun baked on the beach, up at Trinity. He smiled his broadest grin. The bitches just circled, it was fucken fantastic!

6.1, handsome, Greek, with a super gym-toned body, you do the maths, I thought.

Come on, Claudia, I said. Let’s head home.

The Trouble With Josh

Mark's giving shit to Josh. Last Wednesday, when Mark made one of his rare visits to the city to buy a new car, he and Josh were alone in the lounge room in Fitzroy.

How's the new job going? asks Mark, sounding friendly and interested.

New job? I don't have a new job?

Aren't you working? asks Mark, feigning surprise.

No, I'm not working, says Josh.

So, what are you doing with yourself? asks Mark, curiously.

Oh, laying around the house, watching TV, says Josh. I'm sure he was being smart, with that answer. You know, stamping some authority,

Well, why don't you get off your arse and clean the house then? says Mark, pointedly.

Mark doesn't like Josh, he thinks he is a user. Josh has been staying at my place since mid December and, in all reality, he hasn't contributed any thing. Mostly, he has borrowed money from me to survive.

Last weekend, when I arrived home on Sunday night, he said my bike had a fat tyre and I'd have to get it fixed. I thought about that for a couple of days, you see, Josh is really self-focused, he wouldn't just notice the tyre on my bike went flat. He wouldn't see it unless it directly involved him.

My bike tyre, I bought up with Josh. How did it go flat?

How do these things ever happen, said Josh. A nail, some glass. Who knows?

Who was the last person to ride my bike? I asked plainly. Before the tyre went flat?

Okay, he replied defensively. I'll get it fixed, if that's what your trying to say?

I didn't tell Mark this.

Josh's response to cleaning the house question, was to leave the room.

When Josh answered the phone to Mark, yesterday, Mark asked how the house cleaning was going?

Is there something you want? was Josh's reply.

A couple of my friends have commented that they felt Josh had allowed them to believe that he was me on the phone when they called. He has allowed the conversation to proceed passed what would be normal in such situations. Julien said he was kind of creeped out by it, that he felt more creeped out by it the more he thought about it, like he had been violated. Of course Julien relayed this info onto Mark.

The tyre on my bike is still flat.

Kiss me

Early Sunday

I'm eating chocolate biscuits for breakfast, as the cockies call to each other, in the trees outside. I know, it's a great way to stay svelte, but I'm just picking, as I have my first coffee. There's a glass barrel next to the kettle, left out from the woman's retreat, where they sat around and gazed at their vagina's with hand-mirrors. Well, I'm still not smoking, although, I hit the pot with Luke and Mark pretty hard last night. But, not cigarettes, even after smoking with Lauri, Friday night. Just don't light that first one in the morning, and then I'm right.

I came up here to get away from the stifling heat of what would have been the city, last night. It was glorious, too. I was almost cold, as I headed to my bed last night. The stars were magnificent, Mark and I gazed at them, diamonds in the black sky. But, you know, I'd still rather hang with Mark & Luke than anyone, heat or no heat. They are still my favourite blokes. It looks like the two of them might be starting the long break up. I think they want different things, I think they both know that. They are going to counselling, as the two of them say, so they can have the best break up ever. I think Luke is going to go travelling, head overseas, maybe. It will be strange not having Luke around, it's been a long time, he's gorgeous. I'll miss him, if they split. I adore Luke.

The country is the only place to be when the temp is nudging forty. We lose sight of the fact that it is only man's construct, the evil that man does that heats up to unbearable temperatures, left to nature, it is always cool in the evenings to sleep, the natural universe's cooling system always kicks in when the sun goes down. The more man works against nature, the less likely he is to survive. I used to love that great big melting pot that is the city, but now I just see it as getting too big and too angry and too over-heated to really enjoy. I might think about moving to the country, one day.

That's all I wanted to say to that woman who tried to run me over the other morning, It doesn't have to be this way. But then the current governments of today are saying it's alright to go to war, it's alright to fight, so what do I expect.

I'm lucky, I have some where to go when the city gets too angry to survive in. Bolago, is only an hour away, after all, I could even commute.

I'd most likely go by train, but it would also be fun tackling the traffic in the GTI. Have I told you what a cool car it is? It sticks to the road like a go-cart and it accelerates like an F1. I came up the old road, non-dual highway, on the way up here, just to put the GTI through it's paces. I passed every thing on the road, even in 6th gear. Although, chucking it down to 5th and hitting the accelerator is the most fun. Into 4th and it's just a rocket, from 100 to 140 in seconds. It's just like my Cooper S - the real Mini variety and not the cynical marketing exercise of the baby BMW masquerading as a Cooper S - but the GTI has airbags and crumple zones for every day life. Breath taking! Its performance makes me cackle, like a man possessed, as everybody else appears as a diminishing dot in my rear-view mirror.

That's fun! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

We all play it too safe now a days. Over regulated and over-fed, we're drowning in a sea of rules and affluence. Our wealth is like quicksand and we're now up to our necks in it. 3 minutes to midnight, as they now say.

Touching

I think I'll call you Dick,

I think I'll hold onto this,

rub like that,

watch your eyes close,

watch your face turn to bliss.

Nipples are made for sucking

Hanging Out on a Friday Night

Last night, I was hanging with Tim and Nicholas' cousin Caroline - 5 children, 3 father's, baby bonus' for all, thank you John Howard - we'd been off to see Tim and Nicholas' new house, same street, 400 and something rather than 100 and something. Caroline never stopped talking, I mean never; the twins, her operation, the car accident, never having stayed in one house for twelve months, how she didn't drink, hick, her eyes were glassy, how her father gave her her first shot of speed (I mean syringe) when she was fourteen (so it's not just the accident)... it's a good thing I like her, heart of gold, otherwise you'd just want to suffocate her with a pillow, let me tell you.

We drank wine, in the empty house, admired all the rooms, opened all the windows and doors, sussed out the spot for the dope plant and generally felt sorry for the neighbours when we realised how close they were, what with Tim's penchant for loud, bubble gum pop. Nicholas cracked the shits because the lease said "no pets." They couldn't get him to understand that was a standard lease clause, because their current lease doesn't have it. He'd decided he didn't want to move, he'd cracked the sads, "it's just another fucken house, what's all the excitement," and had gone to bed.

I was off the the Laird to meet up with my ex-boyfriend, so naturally, I didn't get there until late. I drove, which I'd never, never normally do, but I was leaving later than I had intended. My ex, Lauri, had a whole bunch of friends there, he was so pleased to see me, bear-hugs all round. He was a bit drunk and started to introduce me as his mate, but then he must have realised and he grabbed me in his arms and kissed me hard and laughed, his beautiful, green eyes sparkled and he said, My ex-boyfriend, this man is my ex-boyfriend. It was nice, sweet.

We'd both given up smoking, so naturally we both smoked all night.

Lauri kept filling my empty glass, with half of whatever schooner, whoever had just bought him. I drank slowly, but probably ended up having three schooners (collectively) in two, or so, hours and Tim had filled my wine glass several times in as many hours, before I got to the pub, so I wondered if I was over the limit when I drove home. I decided to go when I started to flirt with one of Lozza's mates and he started to flirt back. I don't know, I never think it is a good look to start hitting on friends, or ex-boyfriends, mates. How Scott filled those shorts, though, nice smile, interested eyes...

I don't think I've ever driven over the limit in my entire life, as I just don't drive, normally, if I go out drinking. I could have been, maybe? Oh who cares, I thought, when I was parked safely in my back yard. It's good to live a little, we're all "safeing" ourselves into paralysis, these days.

I've got a bit of a headache today, though, which is a sure sign of imbibing too much...

 

Lap-Dance Me If You Love Me

Love is a lap-dance

thick thighs covered in hair

somethings getting bigger down there.

Kiss Me

Don't Care Was Made To Care?

People don't like it when you say you don't care, it's like we have to care, we've been conditioned to. It's, almost, our duty. World wide news, the international psycho drama, the environment, the state of the economy, the middle east, we are taught that we must care. Well, I'm telling you, I don't care about any of it. If an atomic bomb was dropped on Gaza, it wouldn't change my life. Why don't the Arabs and the Jews just fight to the death? They seem to want to. If Kim Jong Il really gave that idiot Bush what he deserved, again, it wouldn't change my life. In fact, with the rich getting ridiculously rich and the west becoming more and more excessive, while the poor are dying every day, from such things as dirty drinking water, with the inequalities in the world increasing, maybe a nice big catastrophe is what the world really needs, to shock it back into normalcy. You know, like electroshock treatment, re-scramble the thinking back to normal. Like chemotherapy, every thing re-sets... the end justifies the means. Maybe we could lose Jerusalem, or Washington, boom, gone. Maybe that would make the population sit up and say, No more, no more of this madness, let's start treating all of the people of the world equitably.

Maybe?

 

To Hell In a Rat-Faced Bitch's Hand-Basket

You know the world is truly going to hell, when (and they all seem to be female, maybe because they are told that the clitoris gives them the opportunity to have it all... and it's just not true) car drivers think it is perfectly acceptable to run pedestrian's down if the pedestrian crosses the road on the red man – more often than not, these idiot drivers are driving through red lights themselves.

I saw it happen on the corner of Elizabeth and Bourke a week, or so ago, when an idiot woman accelerated straight at group of pedestrians in her Rodeo, not making any allowances for the pedestrians if they'd kept walking. If they had, she would have run them down, it would have been as simple as that.

Then this morning, a woman in a gunmetal grey Toyota Yaris tried to run me down on Victoria Parade. You can’t actually make it right across Victoria Parade on the green man, it has always changed to red when you are on the second side. I dashed across this morning and this idiot woman just kept coming, until I was in front of her car with both my hands on her bonnet yelling at her that she had to give way to pedestrians.

Get out of my way, she said, as she tried to accelerate over me. I had to leap out of the way.

I saw that she had stopped at Brunswick Street and decided that she wasn't going to get away with that.

I ran and caught up to her, as she waited at Brunswick Street lights and it was worth it just to see her jump and nearly shit herself, as I banged on her diver’s window, as hard as I could.

(To her credit, she wound down the window)

Do you think your behaviour was acceptable back there? I yelled. Do you think it is acceptable to run someone down?

Yes, she said, because you ran across on the red man. Because I was in the right and you were in the wrong.

(Yes, she said. It was okay for her to run a pedestrian down)

You don’t even know your road rules, I yelled. Cars have to give way to pedestrians.

I know my road rules…

You are what is wrong with the world, I yelled. The world is going to hell quicker than I ever gave it credit for, because of people like you!

I walked around in front of her car, the lights had turned green and she accelerated again and I had to jump from out of her way again?

What the hell is wrong with you, I yelled after her.

The World is Full of Users

Josh, who is staying with me as a guest, remember, called from Valarie's place to ask if she could come around to use my Internet. She lives close by, just around the corner. It would be so convenient for her, rather than having to go to an Internet cafe.

Oh, I could see it so clearly, how many times in the week do you think she'd be around just to check her emails?

Valerie Who? What does she mean to me, quite frankly.

Sure, I said. Why don’t you invite the whole neighborhood around to use it, while you are at it?

I wasn't to know she was listening in on the call, on the other end, with Josh. She thought I sounded mean and now she feels too scared to come around.

What a princess! And I’m the bad guy? Go figure?

Monday Morning

It's the beginning of the week. Or is it the middle? I'm not so sure now that I've worked right through the weekend.

That disgusting little man, John Howard, is way down in the polls, as is his vile (pseudo-christian) party. (Get your rosaries off our ovaries, euthanasia, abortion and gay rights, you sniveling, conservative cunts)

Stop using the environment as a political tool and take the problem seriously. We don't want nuclear power, it's not a good fiscal opportunity to expand Australia's uranium industry. You still don't get it do you little Johnny, it's not about money, it's about survival, it's about the planet.

Little (seventy year old +) Johnny out of favour? It is going to be a good week, after all?

 

From Tom

Hey Chris.

i called you on the weekend, didn't want to leave a massage, i wanted to talk with you.

Anyway, if you're interested, i am really sorry about projecting my crap onto you.

It was also crap the wanting you to be the old you thing. It's not you, it's me.

I'm just so angry with EVERYTHING but mostly with all the time being sick has cost me, and you got the brunt of it.

When I said "You don't love me enough" etc etc wah wah wah pick pick pick, what I really meant was, "I'm drowning in a million feelings and I need help".

I'm so sorry I wasn't clear and I just hope I haven't lost you because you really are my oldest friend and you really do know me best.

I don't want to give you my crap, I want to be honest and honestly, I'm struggling.

I don't expect you to do anything with this email Chris, but I hope that one day I can come over and laugh with you and feel at home with you again.

Please don't give up on me Chris. I know you have your own shit to deal with, but please don't be a stranger for too long? That would be nice for me.

I love you Chris, for who you are now. Really I do.

Anyway, if you got this far, thanks.

xxxx T

Bolago

Country Morning

Sun light dappled on leaves, flower heads catching the breeze, peeking out from in between. A bird call trails off into the light that is gently landing amongst the trees.

Gums serene, water laps at their feet. Morning hues, brittle and green, washing the night away. I feel the air on my skin, as the sleep falls from my eyes and the day begins.

A lizard makes a dash across the dirt, as my toes curl on the cool, cool earth.

The night’s fallen away, the day’s resumed.

Good Bye

Good bye Anna Nicole. How sad. An extraordinary'ish life, by all accounts, cut short. I don't know why I was so fascinated with her? I guess it was the life lived less ordinary. From the dizzy heights to the heart breaking lows, you brought colour to an increasingly homogenised world. A world where people are too scared to stand out and be something other than the norm, for good, or for bad, you did.

Kiss me

Random Thoughts On The Day

Toddler climbs into a car and dies? Isn't that just natural selection, 21st Century style? You know, getting rid of the dumb ones. The world will probably be a better place, without them. They'll only grow up to feed the stupidity tax of gambling, no doubt. Mindless Pokies. Or deal drugs to your kids. Or kill you in an accident driving blind.

Can someone explain to me why Della-Riva has been caught up in a scandal, let alone lost his job? This woman concerned was 18 years old, an adult. He didn't attack her, he didn't assault her, he didn't do anything illegal? What's the big deal? So he hit on some chick? He had a go, she said no and, I'm assuming, that was the end of it. What is the big deal? That's called life, grow up, you are an adult now. A man doesn't deserve to lose his job for that.

Susan Sarandon

I think she is so beautiful... and she is 60 years old. (and, allegedly, no plastic surgery) Just gorgeous.

Something Amazing

Little Johnny Howard

panders to the rich

and screws the poor

(like he screws Janet)

and yet they all still vote for him.

Monday'itis

Life's fucked and then you die. That's how I feel today, so, I guess, I shouldn't write any more.

My car has issues, as the good Peugeot mechanic said. I took it in for it to get the once over, thinking it would just confirm that there were few problems. However, the RACV report missed crucial items and now it's going to cost me to get many and varied problems fixed... just when my finances seem to be going out backwards.

It all started the second day I had it and the head light didn't work, which, actually, was one of the (few) things mentioned on the RACV report. A head light being a road worthy item on a car which had just, allegedly, passed a road worthy test.

But, Tom called me, when I was, shall we say, in Manny's arms, yesterday. Bad timing, huh? It's the first time in weeks. It feels odd for best friends. It's good that he called, but right now, I don't feel like I have the confrontational energy to contact him. But I should. Bad Christian!

I just hope he has got over himself. Look, there goes a flying pig.

 

G (look a like)

Me & G & the Park

So the elms are dying from the drought, I thought, as G and I jogged through the park. Majestic creatures, well, hardly creatures, but nearly; big and tall and strong and as permanent as time and space... but without water, as tiny as the smallest grain of sand.

The lawns are green, the aspect sweeping from, pretty much, any angle. Mum’s and dad’s had bought their children to play on the verdant velvet expanse. People read books in the shade. Some people sleep.

G states categorically that he doesn't need to have sex with a man to know he wouldn't like it.

Christian, if I was hot for guys, I reckon I would, why not? Who’s going to turn down sex? But, I'm just not.

It's just fear, I said. I was egging him on. You pussy

Give it to me any time, replied G.

The sky was a beautiful blue. The sun was warm on my back. I breathed hard in between my words.

Besides, what do you do with two boners? Don’t they, um… you know, get in the way?

What do you mean?

Well, with a chick it just all fits together, he said. You know, when I’m lying on top of Valentina…she’s smooth down there. I just kind of fit…

Like a glove, I offered.

Well, wouldn’t they be pushing against each other? Getting in the way? Keeping you a part?

No, that’s the best bit…

I can’t see it.

The shadows were dappled on the path. There was a group having wedding photos taken. I wondered about the normalcy of the appearance of the day. People gathering, as they had for a hundred years. It’s all perception, I thought.

Head over to those pushes in the middle of the park, I pointed to the beat and you’ll soon find out.

What?

Come on, I said, as I sprinted off in the direction of the MCG.

Are there guys having sex in those bushes? said G, as he caught up to me.

A-ha.

In the middle of the day?

Day, night and in between.

You guys...

You’re just jealous.

Do you?

I have, I said. But not for a long time now.

Why not, he smiled. You pussy?

Well, Manny, and other assorted boyfriends, I guess.

So if you headed over there now you'd get sucked off?

Probably.

So why don't you? G said, almost in amazement of turning down free sex. (That particular interpretation could have just been in my head, granted)

I've grown up. There are better ways of getting sex. There is better sex.

 

The Stars Are Bright

End of the Night

Been out drinking with friends. Pissed as! It's nice to have buddies to play pool with, drink beer and hang with. I'm lucky, I have good friends. Whenever I get down, I should just slap myself. I've been down the last few days. Or is it the beer? Nah! It's grand having flirty buddies. Smart friends. Clever, funny, witty pals. People to be with, just naturally.

Josh met someone he went to school with. They were twelve years olds together, apparently. He recognised Josh straight away. Josh didn't click for the longest time and then he was embarrassed.

In fact, we were a gaggle of ex-boyfriends... the four of us. He who shall never be mentioned, Craig (his ex) and... did I ever say that Josh is an ex-boyfriend of mine? Before Manny, I guess. He's cool. I like having him around.

Do we ever tell our buddies that we love them, enough?

Babyface sings, I'll Make Love to You and End of the Road. (He nearly sings it as well as his {great} Auntie Gladys... nearly)

Tom has taken himself off to Sydney, to escape, because everyone is cross with him. Apparently, all his gay boy friends are, and I quote, ‘A bunch of cunts and he's hanging with some lesbian friends,’ according to he-who-shall-never-be-mentioned.

Shane and Mark W have split up. Apparently, Shane has left Mark W for Matt. Who'd have thought? The last time I chatted to Shane, when he was drunk and inclined to say more than he would otherwise, he said that Matt is the first person who has made him feel the same way as his (gorgeous) boyfriend Fergus, who died a number of years back.

Ah, Mark W, tall, dark and handsome and if someone could just graft in a personality, he'd be great. Oh, I don't mean that, he's nice. Smart, considered, interesting. I'm just being a little bitch. I think, perhaps, I fancied him once, kind of in passing, and he didn’t fancy me and I’ve just been mean ever since. Oh, not really, but I think there was a sense of that somewhere along the way. That’s how it usually goes, now isn’t it.

I started smoking again. Idiot! (Babyface sings, Gone to Soon)

Rage Against the Machine

This week there was a doco on about the cold war. It's premise was that the cold war was largely invented by the conservative powers in the US government to stem the tide of liberalism on home soil. It was the beginning of using fear as a political weapon. The propaganda fabricated and disseminated was largely so the christian agenda was pushed, ultimately trying to prevent boys and girls in the US from touching each other. The whole cold war propaganda was fabricated to push a conservative, moral agenda back home.

It was fascinating and frightening.

And who do you thing was leading the war on the commies, Donald Rumsfeld. There was a speech he made about Russian weapons of mass destruction in 1975 that if you substituted Iraq for Russia, it could have easily been given 30 years later. It was the exact same shit. And as in Iraq, much of the propaganda about Russia in the 1970's, was lies.

Rich & Poor

The rich get richer

as a third of the planet starves.

A dollar is given in conscience.

21st Century Man

Mayan, Inca, Roman.

21st Century man

is blind to his fate.