The boats

The boats picture

Day 6 of Quitting Smoking

And as it turns out, I should have staid in bed, yesterday. No, really. 

Everybody was giving me the shits! Big time. I've got three people staying and when I found out that their work had been cancelled today due to the rain, I wanted to kill them. Well? I herumphed.

I yelled at Mark and slammed the phone down on him. 

And when I found myself yelling at Sam and thinking he was a shit... I suddenly stopped myself and thought, Oooohhhhhh... maybe I'm the common denominator here. Then I just had to think, day 6 of quitting smoking. 

Hmmmmm. 

It could be me.

David has always said I was horrible and I've always denied it. Of course, he is wrong and I am right, normally, and David should never read this, as I have given up smoking when he lived with me many times and he didn't even notice, however... there are those occasions when I am a monster and he is right... and this could be one of those occasions.

So, I kissed and made up with Mark and ran away to the country. It's lovely up here, the sun is shining and the birds are singing.

boys will be boys

Still In Bed Listening To The Rain

 it's not that early, I realise, as I glance over at the clock. I'm usually up around 9am, it's a good time to start the day. It's not 9 am yet, I'm so comfortable. I'm still in bed, I haven't got up yet, I'm still wrapped in my doona, listening to the rain. It helps make sense of the world, it makes the day better, that gentle calm before the day begins. Stretch. Yawn.

Oh, I've got so lazy, I can't ever see myself working again. Can you retire halfway through your life? That's what I've been telling everyone, when they ask, that I have retired. I'm so sick of the, "Have you got a job yet?" question. It shuts them up, if only momentarily. Someone replied to me, "But you must have twenty years of work to go?"

I wanted to go up the Westgate and jump, at that thought.

Wind surfing in Rarotonga

My Exboyfriend's Nipple Ring

Lauri

My dog

Boy soup San Francisco

Cleanerphobia

I had to get out of the house yesterday morning, as the cleaner was due, it was Wednesday, after all. Shiver!

Is there really no "home" or "end" key on an Apple keyboard? For goodness sakes.

... but, I digress

Shane had just left the house for work, bang went the door, so I knew it was sometime after 9am and probably not yet 9.30, although it could be close. I stumbled out of my room and down the stairs to answer the phone. I'm not sure why? Still on half-sleep auto pilot, I suspect, way too soon out of the crypt for my cynical, fuck that, gene to have kicked in yet. The (new) nursing home has been calling me daily about one thing or another. Monday it was for the name of Lottie's old doctor, despite the fact that I had given it all to them in writing when I admitted her. Tuesday, it was to tell me that she has shingles, which may explain Monday's call. And yesterday it was about some pharmaceutical requirements. Did I want to buy them? Or did I want them to purchase them? Really? What do you think?

I staggered away from the phone, spied the coffee grinder, lurched towards the cupboard to select a glass for a drink of water, when I heard, "'ello." 

I tensed, grimaced, still with my back towards the kitchen door, spammed, as thought I was Doctor Jekyll turning into Mr Hyde, avoided the Seinfeld'esque intake of air and the wail of "Newman," except in this case it would be "Guadalupe, instead turning and quietly saying, "Good morning," sweetly instead.

I slammed those beans into the machine and ground the shit out of them. I intensely urging the coffee pot to boil faster, come on, come on, come on, as the gas burner licked around the bottom of the aluminium pot. "Come on!" The gwoob, gwoob, gwoob, gwoob, shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhh, shhhhhh, crcrcrcrcrcrcrcrcrcrcr, could not come soon enough. "Fuck you universe about watched pots!" Hands as fists. Get me out of here, I thought, as the vacuum sprung into life.

I showered, dressed and was out the front door in record time.

I had bills to pay, credit card, phone, gas, all a day, or two late. Oh really, what time have I had? Smith Street was bathed in sunlight and a gentle breeze blew.

I went and sat out the front at Kent Street, simply because it was across the road from the post office and I had never been there before, it was always a little too cool for school and it had an outside, smoking area. I wasn’t at all sure if it served food. I wasn’t sure if it was simply a bar, but at 10am in the morning, I thought it can’t just be a bar open at this time. I was feeling a little hungry by this stage and in need of some food and it was nice just to sit. And sit. And sit. And sit. The man next to me was brought his coffee, after which the serving person slipped away like the wind. I didn’t really care it was just nice to sit, after my hurried exit from home. And sit, and sit, and sit.

I looked over at the guy sitting next to me and he was drinking a beer with his coffee. Maybe, it is just a bar?

Maybe you had to go in and order. But surly, they would come and tell me. Surly, they weren’t too cool for communication? But, apparently, they were.

Oh, I should go in. I got up to go see what was what, when I though, actually, I could just leave. And I headed to Rosamond.

I had just been served my breakfast when Sam messaged me and asked if I wanted to have lunch with him. Sure, why not. I’ll be finished breakfast in a read of The Age’worth and I can head right in.

Mark rang a short time after that to tell me about his latest venture in Hanoi 

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m in Rosamond having breakfast. I had to leave the house as the cleaner is here.”

“Nice,” he said.

“When will you be down, Sam wants to show you the air?”

“Friday night, can you tell him for me?”

“Sure, I’m having lunch with him after this.”

There was momentary silence on the other end of the phone.

“You are having lunch with him… today?”

“Yes.”

Then there was laughing on the other end of the phone.

“Let me get this right,” said Mark. “The life of the unemployed… you have left the house because the cleaner is cleaning your house, to have breakfast… after which you are going straight to lunch in the city?”

“Correct.”

There was more laughing.

Just rude, I thought. 

“What do you want me to do, get a drug habit and burgle houses?”

“Oh Chriso, only you…”

“What?”

“Aren’t you worried about getting a job?”

“I laugh at your propose sentence into servitude.”

“Well, as long as your sense of self worth doesn’t take a battering.”

“What? As opposed to going back into the corporate world to have my life sucked from me by the self-focuses bunch of blood suckers who frequent the hallowed halls of big business?”

Sam was more horrified that I'd, actually, ordered muesli for breakfast when I could have chosen anything I wanted.

"Muesli," he said with disdain. "So original."

Rush Boys

All the Rush boys are hot. I'd sleep with any of them, all of them. Do you think there is a gay guy in its casting? Or are we just lucky with the times we live in. Whichever, not since Wildside...

There You Go....

Sam found my blog, the first person ever to know about my blog, other than me. Actually, my good friend Panda is... was... the only person who knew my blog belongs to me. She and I studied writing together.

Hello to Panda, if you are reading.

I've got a new lap-top, an Apple... Sam bought himself a new Air and I now have his Pro. I was pissing around on my PC and the lap-top and the lap-top ran out of battery while I was away from it. I didn't think anything about it and continued doing stuff on my PC. That's how things go, you know, so I just closed the lid. (Is it called a lid?)

Sam came over sometime later and he plugged the lap-top in and fired it up to commence my instruction on all things Apple... when... can you guess, up came my blog in front of the two of us sitting looking at the screen.

Whoosh! There is was. Ah! NO!

I panicked... well, panicked is a little strong, to tell you the truth. But, I wasn't expecting it, I was caught completely off-guard. I tried to be clever and I tried to open something else. I tried to open the news to show him something, but there was nothing... nothing I could allude to as something of interest.

And the heading of the first entry in my blog was, It's my birthday. I was sure he would want to look at what I had been looking at online, it was just unfortunate that it was so obviously about me.

Each time I steered him away from it, he managed to come back to it... until finally I grabbed him in a bear hug and said, "I really don't want you to read that."

"Really," he said. "Is that you?"

We wrestled.

I don't, actually, mind Sam reading my blog, in fact, I kind of like the idea of someone reading it... except, that there is certain freedom in not having to answer to anybody about what I write.

I guess, it is hello to Sam, if he is reading. (That seems weird)

But, Shane and Sebastian were at my place and I certainly didn't want Sam blurting it out and everybody knowing about it, as they are all in it, of course. I think if that was the case, I'd have to stop writing it all together.

Not that I've been too diligent about writing lately.

Truthfully, the idea that Sam knows about it has stopped me writing for the last week... just while I thought about it. I tentatively brought up the subject with him, but he didn't realise what I was talking about and I dropped it quickly.

Or... at least... honest truthfully... Sam gave me a photographic scanner for my birthday and I have been more interested in scanning all my old photos than writing anything.

Stay tuned for a pictorial wonder... ha, ha... wander through my past

 

Holy Cock

Can you imagine sucking Jesus' cock? Do you think it would taste like angel hair pasta or heavenly sherbet?

 

Equality for All

Presumed heterosexual until proven otherwise, still true today. Of the whole world, really.

You know, it just kills me when the biggots, the homophobes and those with religion use the idea that we want special rights when we are asking for equality, don't they get that we will never be equal, no matter how many wins we have, no matter how many rights we get.

They just don't understand how we will always have to live in a heterosexual world, considered by most to be second class citizens.

Men Have Been Programmed To Be Unfaithful

All men have been programmed to be unfaithful, we forget that. They evolved to spread their seed around as many females as possible, to continue the healthy procreation of the species. That is what the male was preprogrammed to do. Woman's groups conveniently forget that fact. 

2011

Except, I don't think I ever was. I've been faithful to all my partners, even those with whom I have had open relationships, as open relationships come with negotiated rules, and I have always been faithful to those agreements.

2023

Clowning Around

The size of your feet being a ratio to the size of your penis, was a rumour started by clowns.

 

There's Another Way Other Than Shame

It's funny that when a blogsite shows some nudity they tend to get an adult content warning.

Is it because of some screwed up fear that children might stumble across these images? Children whose parents are so concerned about their welfare that they let their children search the internet unsupervised? Children who's parents don't put enough time into parenting? Parents who'd rather change the internet experience for the vast majority just so they don't have to change their “baby sitter” computer.

Do children really care about nudity anyway, until they witness their parent's over reaction to it?

People are so screwed up when it comes to sex that they have no qualms about passing that fear onto their children.

Did you know that dictionary's have been pulled from schools in California because they have the meaning of oral sex in them.

Weird, isn't it. It's the twenty first century.

Imagine if we celebrated the human body. Imagine if we treated it as something to revere, to celebrate. Imagine if we thought of sex as something to enjoy together, not feel shameful about? Imagine if parents encouraged their teenagers to have sex as a way of getting to know someone – with all the knowledge supplied.

Imagine how different the world would be.

Good tongue work

Looking out to sea

It's My Birthday

It's a cold day as I sit here with my muesli and my coffee on my birthday morning. The phone hasn't stopped ringing... and I hate talking on the phone at the best of times. It started at 6.45 when my mate Dean called on his way to work. He laughed when I said I was still asleep. He said the sun was out and there was a full moon and that it was beautiful and I should get up and take a look.

(I've forgotten what that is called? Is that a blue moon? Grimace. I don't think it is)

Actually, it started on the dot of midnight when David text from Berlin to say he was a live and well and happy birthday you old slag.

My brother called at 9am from Brisbane and after that my sleep in was over and up I got.

Shane had left a present on the coffee table an apple corer and peeler. I laughed. I am a bit of an apple fiend.

My sister called to say I am nearly as old as she is again. We are a year apart in birth.

Sam called. He is hysterical when he calls from work, because he whispers way down low and he sounds like what a stalker would sound like, if I had one.

My ex-girlfriend called, she is on the Northern Beaches on a day off, as she got married on my birthday in London and she is celebrating her fifteenth wedding anniversary with her husband.

And now I am off to lunch with my two oldest girlfriends.

Then it is out to dinner with Sam.

And... for someone who didn't want anything for his birthday... some how that has morphed into a big party in the country on Saturday night. Yay! Lucky me.

Unusual Porn... you don't see that every day

Very few things leave me open-mouthed and lost for words, however, Shane managed it...

He showed me (with glee, I might add) a muscular, hairy pre-op female to male transsexual, more masculine than most men you'd see on the street, more masculine than most men you'd see in a leather bar, facial hair, body hair, muscles... but still with a cunt... getting fucked by a really beautiful,  feminine, chick with a dick.

You don't think that was disconcerting? You just naturally shake your head as your brain tries to catch up. It's a bit like motion sickness where your eyes are telling you one thing, but your brain is telling you another. It was like a road accident, I just couldn’t look away.

I wish I could post it here, everyone should see it... just because you should have your mind opened... just because we're not all homogenised, hetro couples with one and a half kids and a beagle. I guess I could, why not? I'll ask Shane for it.

Monday Morning

 I don't really understand all of this ceremonial commemoration stuff by America for 9/11? I mean, I do. A  big, ugly building was destroyed. (If you read about the dodgy history about the creation of the twin towers, actually, what happened to it was pretty much a fitting end... obviously not in the way that it happened, of course) and a number of people died and they need to remember that loss. I don't understand the commemoration in Canberra. What is that all about? What really does it have to do with Australia? Why did we have to have the weeks of television saturation leading up to the date and then the postmortem afterwards?

There are heightened possibilities of terrorist attacks in Australia? Really? That sells lots of newspapers, sure, and is a great excuse to ramp up security in all sorts of ways, no doubt - ASIO has tripled in size and it's powers have gone far beyond what civil libertarians would call reasonable - and it gives governments an excellent opportunity for posturing, but we have been hearing this for ten years and so far, nothing, zilch zip.

The world changed that day? Really? The whole world? There has been terrorist attacks in the world since the dawn of time, ever since that tribe carried that cow carcass up the hill and dumped it in the opposing tribes water supply. New York changed, no doubt, but it didn't change my life. I'm sure it didn't change a starving kid's life in Africa.

I think America is kind of like the spoilt child being left stunned and open mouthed after it has finally got what was coming to it for, let's face it, it's bad behaviour in the world. Let's think about just a couple of fun facts here - the C.I.A. trained/created Osama Bin Laden and America installed Saddam Hassein in Iraq in it's meddling in Middle Eastern Affairs in it's early counter terrorism measures against Iran. The list of America's meddling in Middle Eastern Affairs is extensive, go and study it, I suggest to you.

Terrorist attacks have happened all over the world perpetrated by any number of terrorist organisations, what makes America so special? Think Suri Cruise being smacked across the face for the first time for all of her diva'ish behaviour and I think we are some where near the reality of things.

Think about this, 2500 people died in New York that day.

Depending on what source you look at, something like 300,000 Iraq civilians have been killed in America's retaliation for that day. That really is the true tragedy of 9/11.

Do I need to mention that the Iraq WMDs were an American lie and the Iraq war was pretty much bogus. Bogus, in as much, as Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11.

And Just In Case Anyone Is Having Trouble With What To Buy Me For My Birthday

Nice in white

My Birthday

My friends are trying to organise a birthday dinner for me, despite me saying that I don't want one. They are going ahead and doing it anyway, so I hear along the grapevine.

Grrrr!

What does one have to say to make them listen?

I just don't feel like celebrating, at the moment. I don't feel like I have any thing to celebrate... but they won't listen... apparently.

Sam was surprised when I sent him the following email...

I could meet you after work, we could go to the movies and then we could go out for dinner afterwards. I could hide my car in a hiding spot before I leave and then we could get it and I could drive you home to your place. That would fix it. (smile)

What do you think?

Good idea?

Good plan?

His response was...

Oh Baby,

They love you :)

Babe.. baby.. baby…

You think to much… too much plan, plan plan plan

Hmmmm? I think Sam's implication is that I have too much time on my hands. What to do? Why won't people listen? That's my question. If it is my birthday, surely it should be what I want? Don't you think?

Should I be Worried About The Job Situation?

Job vacancies are dropping, job's are becoming harder to get. Should I be worried?

The thought of going back to work still stresses me out. I must be damaged more than I thought. Ohhhhh, I just can't face it, but nor can I relax and just enjoy the time off, as I keep thinking I should be looking for work.

It's a catch 22.

I started looking this week. I thought to myself that I only wanted to work at the top end of Collins Street and low and behold the first job was exactly that. I even liked the sound of it, but when it said “apply today and start tomorrow” I thought… oh really, do I want to start tomorrow? And I felt a chill run right through my body.

But, there were a few jobs I liked the sound of… I’ve just got to apply now. He he. Smile.

I'd Had Bad Dreams

I woke up early this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. I'd had bad dreams, none of which sound so bad now that I sit here and think about them in the day light, but in the dark in the depths of sleep, it's funny how they are different.

I got up a little while after I woke when I couldn’t go back to sleep. I was in jail, in what looked like a huge tiled shower block. I kept asking the man in charge questions, which he soon got sick of and punished me for my inquisitiveness. I was in for three months and he punished me by giving me a cubicle as big as a broom cupboard in which I would have to sleep standing up. The last thing I remember of that was desperately trying to contact the UN to speak to someone about the violation of my human rights.

Then I had a dream about driving a black Alfa Romeo to the country, to a town that looked a bit like Bolago. There I met my Uncle Bill, who I haven't seen in years, whose car the black Alfa was. He asked me if I had driven the car to the country, a question I tried to avoid but in the end a question I had to admit to. He questioned me about my apparent cheek of driving the car without his permission. He wasn't happy.

I woke up with a start... as you do.

I turned on the teev and watched morning TV, which almost managed to put me to sleep again until I switched it around and watched Pro Bull Riding.

The riders had names like Skeeter, TJ, Kody, and McKennon

I don't know if it is how their chaps tie on, but they all looked as though they have hardons after they had finished their rides. They were hot, even if a couple were missing teeth.

So I made coffee and prepared muesli and took it back to bed and started to watch morning TV and fell back to sleep, which would be no surprise to anyone. I woke up again just before midday. Lovely.

The Labor Party Only Has Itself To Blame

Julia Gillard only has herself to blame. The Labor party only has it's self to blame. They are so spooked by Abbot's rhetoric and Abbot making the boat people a political issue that they have abandoned their own policy.

I see it as really poor that such a big country as Australia would export their problems, problems all countries all over the world experience, off shore to other countries. It is weak, it is sad and I'm sure it gives Australia a bad name.

So, Julia, how about taking what the High Court said as democratic principles at work and now revert to what was always Labor policy and start processing boat people on shore. It's not as if Australia is short of land.

High As A Kite

High as a kite on my dead aunt's birthday, although what one has to do with the other, I'm not sure. The day slipped away and I kissed and caressed and licked and touched my boy for hours, all day Sunday.

Sam and I had a good time, of course. I suggested to him last New Year that we could get high on New Year's Eve each year. And we did last New Year's Eve, having a good time, but you know, it's holidays and that's what holidays are for. I don't think it does a relationship any good to do it more than occasionally. It changes you, it changes your sex life. I've found that doing it too often, you begin to look for it, begin to want it, especially when it comes to sex. But Sam really liked it and when Shane said he was getting "some meth" for the dance party he was going to, Sam's eyes lit up. He had that, oh go on, can't we puppy dog look on his face. So, we did.

Ah, my little monster. He's lovely, really. Have I said that lately? Because he is, handsome, gorgeous, sweet, tender, smart, beautiful. Just lovely.

In the middle of it all, I took nudie photos of him, which I'd post on here if... well, if I didn't want to keep them all to myself. Ha ha.

PS. Sam said days later.

"What is all this talk about meth being highly addictive? If you asked me if I wanted to do it again this weekend, I'd say no."

"The lies that those in power feel that they have to tell to stop the children discovering what fun drugs are."

"Idiots."

"Idiots!"

This Sounds Fascinating And I So Want To Do It... Except That Sam Looked At Me Like I Was Insane When I Suggested It

Rustic charm: North Korea launches first cruise ship


A sleeping cabin for foreign journalists onboard the cruise ship Mangyongbong in the first-ever cruise from Rason in North Korea, which has only been open to Western tourists since 1987 and remains tightly controlled.



It has karaoke and fresh coffee, but the bathrooms on the lower decks are out of water and some guests sleep on the floor. Welcome aboard North Korea's first cruise ship.

Keen to boost tourism and earn much-needed cash, authorities in the impoverished nation have decided to launch a cruise tour from the rundown northeastern port city of Rajin to the scenic resort of Mount Kumgang.

In a highly unusual move, the reclusive regime invited more than 120 journalists and Chinese tour operators on board the newly-renovated, 39-year-old Man Gyong Bong ship for a trial run of the 21-hour journey.

The vessel left one of Rajin's ageing piers on Tuesday to the sound of rousing music, as hundreds of students and workers holding colourful flowers stood in line and clapped in unison.

"The boat was only renovated one week ago," said Hwang Chol Nam, vice mayor of the Rason special economic zone, as he sat on the top deck at a table filled with bottles of North Korean beer, a large plate of fruit, and egg and seafood dishes.

"But it has already made the trip to Mount Kumgang and back. I told people to test the ship to make sure it was safe," said the 48-year-old, dressed in a crisp suit adorned with a red pin sporting late leader Kim Il-Sung's portrait.



A crowd of North Koreans gather to see off the Man Gyong Bong on its maiden voyage



The project is the brainchild of North Korea's Taepung International Investment Group and the government of Rason, a triangular coastal area in the northeast that encompasses Rajin and Sonbong cities, and borders China and Russia.

Set up as a special economic zone in 1991 to attract investment to North Korea, it never took off due to poor infrastructure, chronic power shortages and a lack of confidence in the reclusive regime.

Now though, authorities are trying to revive the area as the North's economy falters under the weight of international sanctions imposed over the regime's pursuit of ballistic missiles and atomic weapons.

The country is desperately poor after decades of isolation and bungled economic policies, and is grappling with persistent food shortages.

In Rason, Hwang said authorities had decided to focus on three areas of growth -- cargo trade, seafood processing and tourism.

North Korea has only been open to Western tourists since 1987 and remains tightly controlled, but more destinations are gradually opening up to tour groups keen to see the country for themselves.

Mount Kumgang, though, is at the heart of a political dispute between North and South Korea after a tourist from the South was shot dead by a North Korean soldier in 2008.

And Rason, where the cruise begins, is a poor area. The tours are tightly monitored, and the only brief contact with locals is with guides, tourist shop owners and hotel employees.

Visitors can expect only brief glimpses of everyday life through the windows of tour buses, as locals -- many dressed in monochrome clothing -- cycle past or drive the occasional car in otherwise quiet streets.

Small apartment blocks, many of them run down, are interspersed with monuments to the glory of the country's leaders.

A portrait of current leader Kim Jong-Il and his late father Kim Il-Sung greets visitors as they walk through the vast lobby of the large, white hotel in Rajin.

"The book is a silent teacher and a companion to life," reads a quotation from the late Kim, hung over glass cases full of books about North Korea, with titles like "The Great Man Kim Jong-Il" and "Korea -- a trailblazer."

The rooms are spartan but clean. But there is no Internet connection anywhere in the area, and the phone lines are unreliable and expensive. Foreign mobile phones are confiscated by tour guides as travellers enter the country.

Hwang said the government in Rason was trying to address communication problems and had signed a 26-year exclusive agreement with a Thai firm to set up Internet in the area, which he hoped would be running in September.

He acknowledged, however, that non-business related websites would likely be blocked, with the media tightly controlled in North Korea.

Many of Rason's tourists come from neighbouring China. The area sees an average of 150 travellers from China every day during the summer peak season.

One Chinese national from the southeastern province of Fujian who gave only his surname, Li, said he had come to North Korea after a business meeting on the Chinese side of the border.

"We've come here mainly to see what changes there have been compared to our country... I like to go to places I've never been to before," he said, standing in front of a huge portrait of Kim Il-Sung.

Simon Cockerell, managing director of Koryo Group, a Beijing-based firm that specialises in tours to North Korea, conceded that Rason may not be everyone's idea of a holiday, but said its attraction lay in the unknown.

"A lot of people like going to obscure places. And this is the most obscure part of a very obscure country in tourism terms -- the least visited part of the least visited country," he said.

The price of the cruise is likely to be considered a bargain by Western standards, with one Chinese tour operator telling London's Daily Mail he expected the cruise to cost about 2000 yuan ($A292) per passenger for a five-day, all inclusive trip.

Back on the boat, Chinese tour operators sang karaoke in a dining hall decked out with North Korean flags as a waitress made fresh coffee, while guests drank beer and ate dried fish at plastic tables up on deck.

Inside, some cabins were decked out with bunk beds, while others just had mattresses laid out on the floor. The better rooms had tables, chairs and private washrooms.

Water in bathrooms on the vessel -- used as a ferry between North Korea and Japan until 1992 when it started shipping cargo -- was unreliable and when available, was brown.

But Park Chol Su, vice president of Taepung, said he had big plans for the tour if it attracted enough visitors.

He wants to invite more than 100 tourist agencies from Europe in October to sample the same trip, in a bid to attract travellers from further afield.

Authorities have promised no visas will be needed to go on the cruise and, if all goes to plan, the ship will be upgraded to a more comfortable one.

"Next year, we aim to get a bigger, nicer boat that can accommodate 1,000 people. We'd rent that from another country in Southeast Asia," he said.

AFP

Excuse Me Sir...

I walk around to the shops to buy cigarettes. Three people ask me for money. One of them follows me into the shop and proceeds to negotiate a price for three of the cigarettes from the packet I had not even paid for.

“No, I’m sorry,” is what I say.
“GO AWAY!” is what I really want to say. “Go away, I don’t want to be asked for money every time I leave the house!”

I guess then I’d be disrespecting them and they would have cause for retaliation.

“That cunt disrespected me,” she’d wail. “I’m not shit, so don’t treat me like that!”
“I only treated you like shit because you made me.”

Do I have any right to feel set upon, when there are people who have to beg for money in a wealthy country like Australia?