Miserable bitches!
I made coffee and took it out to Sam who was already moving the pile of red gum. All that lovely wood, it always looks like a mountain when it is lying there in a pile on the ground. Reds and oranges and golds and browns. Criss cross, higgledy piggledy, all shapes, all sizes.
I wanted to yell out over the fences in the direction of where the “wood nutters” voice comes from, “Hey suck on that loser!” I laughed at the thought of him twitching and dribbling and having to go to his room to masturbate to calm down.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blooowwww…
We stacked all the wood up against the wall. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. We were exhausted by the time we’d finished. “Ah my back, my hand, my ankle where I stepped badly on that log!” We were covered in the soil of the bush, but we were warm on that chilly morning. Warmer still not so long afterwards as the orange flames licked at those newly delivered logs.
My next door neighbour, Jackson Wag, appeared and I spoke to him for the first time about the noise from the generator from Establishment X that adjoins our properties. What is it with these businesses, they know they are breaking the law, they know what they are doing is wrong, but they still do it. Sign of the times, hey. It’s no longer sticking to the law and doing what you are allowed to do, it is now do what you like and hope you will get away with it. It is tiring to have to keep doing battle with these cunts. That’s the only name for them.
Jackson had complained, I thought he would have, and the council told him that there was another neighbour who had complained, which he assumed was me.
“You were the other complaint?”
“Yes, yes indeed.”
He said “they” were going to take sound readings from his place.
Then we were done and it was time to close the roller door on the world. It is most satisfying to watch the roller door glide down obliterating the world once more, shutting it out. I always feel the chill of satisfaction as it all disappears.
Sam cleaned the keys on my laptop, once again, with a can of high pressure air. It was tiny screw drivers and magnify glasses, iPhone torch light and cotton wool buds. He had all the sus keys off before I blinked… click, click. the high pressure can was hissing, the cotton wool buds sweeping, the light shining.
I made muesli and Sam steamed those rice triangles, Bak Chang, after which the kitchen wall was dripping with dirty condensation, down the wall over the kitchen mantel. I don’t think the exhaust fan is working properly. Clearly. Yellow ochre lines were running down the walls, like veins through the paintwork. It was a comment on the cleanliness of the hose, a nice visual like a tapestry right there on the kitchen wall. It amounted to brown slime, effectively. Veins of gravy. Euw! Rivers of tar… nicotine… cigarettes, open fire? Yuk! I’m a lazy bastard and such jobs as this always seem like hard work. It needs a clean. Just do it, don’t think about it. So, I got the ladder and cleaned it. It really took no time and the wall near on sparkled afterwards. It was nice, no really.
Then I built a lovely fire and we sat busy on our computers. And the quiet descended. I love those moments, quiet, together.
Anthony said on Facebook that he had fallen off the wagon and bought a cask of wine. I have to say that I always enjoy the varying stages of decrepitude of Anthony’s phone messages, I never knew “Hello Christian” could be said in so many ways and at such varied speeds. Be that as it may, it is much nicer to have sober, together Anthony saying “Hello Christian” in a clear, in the world, together voice. It sounds like the Anthony I have always known when he is not pissed. I am always pleased when he gives up the booze, he makes sense, he is much more pleasant to communicate with.
So, I (half) jokingly responded with, “and it is a long way to fall.” He being such a piss pot when he drinks. You know, pissed by lunchtime, it can’t be good for you.
This is the response I got (I speak to him practically every day, so the first line really makes no sense at all) when I came in from stacking the wood.
I think that he is talking about the crystal meth his junkie niece left for him last week to repay him for his kindness to her, feeding her and being a shoulder to lean on.
Thanked with “product,” you know, as junkies do.
Oh well, at least she didn’t leave him a heroin, as that’s what she was whacked up on when she arrived.
We went to Grill’d in Brunswick Street for lunch. So, then we could go to the Fitzroy Nursery to look for a red Geranium to give Jeff and Raymond for their house warming present. A simple, classic, fun kind of present. It seemed so simple, I was concerned that maybe it was too simple, too simple to be available at a nursery that is. Would it be available?
The burgers were nice, the chips plentiful and Sam nearly drank all of the juice.
The nursery only had red geraniums for $25, which seemed awfully expensive for a geranium. But, you know, maybe I am just cheap. Am I cheap? Maybe? But, it is just supposed to be fun, you know, to simply fill your hands upon entry.
The funny thing was that nearly every second tree in the street had geraniums planted around the base. You think I am exaggerating, but I’m not. Really, nearly every second tree, I tell you. If only I had thought about it um, however long ago it takes to grow some roots and settle itself into the soil. It would look bad, if for whatever reason, the geranium came out of the soil as a stick.
There were hellebores, purple cabbage plants and cornflower blue and yellow daisies, all for around $10. Then there were tubes, for $3. There were also some perennials for $2.95, among them some gorgeous yellow flowers. I could see them wrapped in blue/purple/red paper.
I felt cheap. I was kind of sick of feeling cheap. It is those moments that I felt like I have screwed up my life. I’m not exactly sure why… it is those moments, I mean. I guess it is not having a job, well, a full time job. It’s feeling unemployable, secretly. It is not so much about money as freedom and ease and tranquillity and calmness and feeling good.
That fed into “why am I doing this anyway?” Do I even want to go? Will I know anybody there? I only really know one of Jeff and Raymond’s friends, Jonathan, and if he isn’t there I’m not sure I’d have anyone else to talk to.
I looked at the bright yellow flowers and felt confused and thought, What the hell am I doing anyway?
Oh, who cares? Buy the damn plant and stop over thinking it. Buy some nice purple paper to wrap it in and it will be fabulous. Buy the damn plant! The gorgeous yellow flowers, price withstanding, they would be the ones I’d pick any way. Such a beautiful shade of yellow.
“I have bought you sunshine in a pot.”
Somewhere between the court yard of the Fitzroy Nursery and the shelves of Woollies Fitzroy, where the only usable wrapping paper was red cellophane, we had, more or less, talked each other out of going to the house warming anyway. I would know few people, Sam would know nobody. They are a serious crowd usually, if the truth be known.
Chicken shits, sure. No doubt.
I like being with Sam, it’s true. I don’t really care about parties. He feels the same. Oh, the two of us? Shrinking violets. Do you think?
Sam made noodles with a chilli omelette.
Sam coughed. I told him we’d have to apologise and say he was coming down with something.
We watched Modern Family and the Good Wife repeats. We watched Graham Norton. I so don’t understand how anybody thinks that Russell Brand is sexy. Don’t all these woman sleep with him? I think he is repulsive.
I made coffee and took it out to Sam who was already moving the pile of red gum. All that lovely wood, it always looks like a mountain when it is lying there in a pile on the ground. Reds and oranges and golds and browns. Criss cross, higgledy piggledy, all shapes, all sizes.
I wanted to yell out over the fences in the direction of where the “wood nutters” voice comes from, “Hey suck on that loser!” I laughed at the thought of him twitching and dribbling and having to go to his room to masturbate to calm down.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blooowwww…
We stacked all the wood up against the wall. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. We were exhausted by the time we’d finished. “Ah my back, my hand, my ankle where I stepped badly on that log!” We were covered in the soil of the bush, but we were warm on that chilly morning. Warmer still not so long afterwards as the orange flames licked at those newly delivered logs.
Jackson had complained, I thought he would have, and the council told him that there was another neighbour who had complained, which he assumed was me.
“You were the other complaint?”
“Yes, yes indeed.”
He said “they” were going to take sound readings from his place.
Then I built a lovely fire and we sat busy on our computers. And the quiet descended. I love those moments, quiet, together.
So, I (half) jokingly responded with, “and it is a long way to fall.” He being such a piss pot when he drinks. You know, pissed by lunchtime, it can’t be good for you.
This is the response I got (I speak to him practically every day, so the first line really makes no sense at all) when I came in from stacking the wood.
Hi ,I have not
heard from you for a while . Such a miniscule amount and now i know what its
like .I can honestly see why it is such a problem . I had an emotional day two
days later and after two little bits ,i will not revisit it . Its just not for
me anymore . I have been ill since last tuesday spending most of my time in bed
on pain killers ,I have now had all my tests and x-rays and am on antibiotics
and have been to the toilet for the first time in five days , part of the
intense pain problem , but why i feel like i have broken another rib is a
mystery . I just spent today getting up for half an hour and returning to bed .
I had a run in with D poor love being pressured by the nutter boyfriend , i was
accussed of posting a message to his mother containing drug references ,
technologically impossible i dont know her . I had deleted it ,it did not even
involve them! Apparently the boyfriend was screaming get rid of it ,it was sent
to D alone but appeared below a picture of the mother , what were they so
afraid of ? who gives mommy access to their facbook anyway. Six months ago he
would have laughed and said ..wheres mine. Love Anthony.
Thanked with “product,” you know, as junkies do.
Oh well, at least she didn’t leave him a heroin, as that’s what she was whacked up on when she arrived.
(Mark
responding to me telling him that Sam didn’t like The Cars That Ate Paris)
4:21
PM
well
there's no accounting for taste, culture crossed lovers... he wasn't born in
North box hill remember...
Mark
4:30
PM
but...
to be fair... I think I had the same response if I remember rightly... and I
loved Avitar...
Mark
5.04
PM
so
there...
Mark
5:05
PM
He
liked the formula that is Avitar (I never really liked Avitar, I couldn’t get
passed all the hype)
Christian
5:06
PM
yes
i agree...good formula....
Mark
5:08
PM
god
I'm tired today...need to go and have an afternoon nap.
going
to another party tonight... dancing last night... then the picnic electronic on
Sunday OMG… social whirlwind ensues...
Mark
5.09
PM
Busy,
busy, busy, huh?
Christian
5.10
PM
oh
my wordy lordie doodah dayee.....
Mark
The burgers were nice, the chips plentiful and Sam nearly drank all of the juice.
The nursery only had red geraniums for $25, which seemed awfully expensive for a geranium. But, you know, maybe I am just cheap. Am I cheap? Maybe? But, it is just supposed to be fun, you know, to simply fill your hands upon entry.
The funny thing was that nearly every second tree in the street had geraniums planted around the base. You think I am exaggerating, but I’m not. Really, nearly every second tree, I tell you. If only I had thought about it um, however long ago it takes to grow some roots and settle itself into the soil. It would look bad, if for whatever reason, the geranium came out of the soil as a stick.
There were hellebores, purple cabbage plants and cornflower blue and yellow daisies, all for around $10. Then there were tubes, for $3. There were also some perennials for $2.95, among them some gorgeous yellow flowers. I could see them wrapped in blue/purple/red paper.
I felt cheap. I was kind of sick of feeling cheap. It is those moments that I felt like I have screwed up my life. I’m not exactly sure why… it is those moments, I mean. I guess it is not having a job, well, a full time job. It’s feeling unemployable, secretly. It is not so much about money as freedom and ease and tranquillity and calmness and feeling good.
That fed into “why am I doing this anyway?” Do I even want to go? Will I know anybody there? I only really know one of Jeff and Raymond’s friends, Jonathan, and if he isn’t there I’m not sure I’d have anyone else to talk to.
I looked at the bright yellow flowers and felt confused and thought, What the hell am I doing anyway?
Oh, who cares? Buy the damn plant and stop over thinking it. Buy some nice purple paper to wrap it in and it will be fabulous. Buy the damn plant! The gorgeous yellow flowers, price withstanding, they would be the ones I’d pick any way. Such a beautiful shade of yellow.
“I have bought you sunshine in a pot.”
Somewhere between the court yard of the Fitzroy Nursery and the shelves of Woollies Fitzroy, where the only usable wrapping paper was red cellophane, we had, more or less, talked each other out of going to the house warming anyway. I would know few people, Sam would know nobody. They are a serious crowd usually, if the truth be known.
Chicken shits, sure. No doubt.
I like being with Sam, it’s true. I don’t really care about parties. He feels the same. Oh, the two of us? Shrinking violets. Do you think?
Sam made noodles with a chilli omelette.
Sam coughed. I told him we’d have to apologise and say he was coming down with something.
We watched Modern Family and the Good Wife repeats. We watched Graham Norton. I so don’t understand how anybody thinks that Russell Brand is sexy. Don’t all these woman sleep with him? I think he is repulsive.
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