I asked Shane how he is? (Recap, he's been staying on the central NSW coast with a friend, X, for a month) He replied, Oh good, except for the rather surprising thing X did the afternoon after I left.
What was that?
He killed himself.
Fuck me, that's pretty surprising. I laughed nervously.
He was a mess when I got there. I think I must have kept him going for an extra month, said Shane. No wonder he was angsty as I was departing. Shane laughed nervously.
Sometimes I think it's a brave thing, I said. I'm never really sure on that one. It is certainly taking control of your future, though.
Shane and David are now in Sydney together. Shane will be back tonight.
Mitchel may be making a return. He sent out an Easter message to, I assume, his phone book - which yes, is grounds for dumping him, sure, never the less - about which I made a comment to David (presently, driving his nieces canary yellow Mercedes around Sydney from sex on prem venue to sex on prem venue, high as a kite) Oh, he sent out a message to all his friends, forgetting to delete me from the list, I assume.
I cheekily replied, may all your eggs be big, sweet and plentiful. To which he replied, hey sausage, (cutesy pet name) good to hear from you. To which I replied, (fuck it, I thought. My usual aloof attitude is getting me no where) Do you want to go out for a drink sometime, to which I got the answer, Sure do! (Are you keeping up?)
So, how about that?
Which reminds me, I'd better call him and make it for tomorrow night.
one last thing...
I saw Dylan Moran last night, he was excellent. Very funny. Jill and I went together.
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