What Yo Doin' Stupid?

I went to the video shop and asked if they had, “These old Broads?” Elizabeth Taylor’s last film, with Debbie Reynolds, Shirley Maclaine and Joan Collins. On the gay poofter scale of 1 to 10 how gay is that? They didn’t have it.

I paid my phone bill, it was three days overdue and a month over due for the previous one. Somehow, I mess up my bill paying from last month and I hadn’t, actually, paid my telephone bill for two months. I was, actually, surprised that it wasn’t disconnected.

I did my TattsLotto. I won nothing from last week. Not that $825 thousand that someone won, which would suit me just about perfectly. No really. 825K, can you imagine? Can I imagine? 

I went to the discount chemist and got new stomach pills, which I haven’t had for weeks. My oesophagus, or whichever part it is, has been hurting just a little. It’s been kind of burning, so, I guess, I still need the pills. I was hoping that once I quit smoking, I wouldn’t need them any longer. I was hoping after I quit smoking that I would be an adult who was pill free. Apparently, that is a rare thing, now a days. Of course, it is every pharmaceutical company’s secret mission statement, get every person on this planet dependant of some kind of pills, what it is I am sure doesn’t really matter.

I contemplated two pork rolls and a muffin from Sunny mmm mmm mmm yum yum. I stood out on the foot path and looked in at them for a time drooling like Homer Simpson. “Mmm food.” Then I thought that I could spend the same amount of money on the things I really needed to buy, including lunch.

I’m not too proud to say that I could have a 90c can off baked beans instead of $12 for the before mentioned menu. After, that is no fat and high fibre and they are practically good for me.

I went to the supermarket and bought oranges and mandarins and milk and bread and baked beans and Nutella and peanut butter and muesli, the regular kind and the strawberry yogurty kind.

I came home and talked to Jill for ages on the phone. She still wants me to go over there to do some work for her. I still haven’t looked at my notes for work. Truthfully, she is just bored. I lied and told her that I was half way through reading my notes. And no, I couldn’t come over today either, I still had more reading to do.

I followed the phone call by writing my blog and my journal, standing in the kitchen at the kitchen bench.

I looked at the royal residences, Frogmore, Osborne House, The Brighton Pavilion, Buckingham Palace and Whitehall Palace. 

I read about Queen Victoria and Prince Albert and their lives together. I wondered why I was spending m time reading about the incredible lives of others.

I lit a fire, the new wood was now coming in the morning, after all and settle into the lounge room and waited for Sam.

The front door opened and closed and I heard Shane and Sam’s voices. Then my handsome baby appeared at the door.

Sam and Shane had arrived home at the same time. In those moments that they were together, presumably, as they walked from the front gate to the front door, Shane told Sam that he hadn’t seen me for two weeks, which isn’t actually true – I’d seen him last night and yesterday morning – and that he was picking Tulli up from the airport and spending the weekend at Jane’s house.

Sam headed up stairs to get changed.

Shane came in said hello and then headed to his room. 

And there you have it, Shane doesn’t tell me what he is doing, even yesterday morning when I told him the wood was coming tomorrow morning, he said nothing. Sam thinks it is me who is excluding Shane, but, actually, I am just, finally, reacting to not being included by Shane. It is only recently that I have started to withdraw from Shane because he hasn’t treated me as a friend for years.

Shane has always been into Shane and it has been a very long time that he hasn’t included me in that world. In fact, I would, actually, say that he has never fully included me in his world.

He has always made dates with friends of mine in which he has not included me. I have always got the feeling that he has wanted to keep such dates as his, to himself, making them his and therefore making him feel special and the centre of attention, because so often he’d say he was out for dinner, without ever mentioning who the people, who I knew well, were.

I am not someone Shane includes in his circle of friends.

I’m not really sure why?

I think it is small town mentality, growing up poor and ordinary. I think it is jealousy, I have much more than he does and, probably always will. (If I don’t blow it right about now, that is) I think it is ego. I think it is an inferiority complex a mile wide, growing up as a country yokel, being subservient to wealthy “horsy” families. From all accounts, his family was always “the staff” to wealthy families.

When he lived with Campbell and when he lived with Mark W, five years for each, I didn’t see him at all. (The fact that he has always gone for wealthy boyfriends says a lot)

Let’s not forget the complete co-dependant myopathy when he has a new boyfriend and everyone else, he lives with is completely ignored, as if we didn’t exist at all. This, of course, is... oh, whatever Let’s not forget the reasons that Tim doesn’t like Shane.

Now, I’d already been to the supermarket today, you know, to get staples, as you do. So, Sam wanted to know what I’d bought for dinner and then he wanted to know why I hadn’t.

“I like to go with you honey,” I said.

He gave me that look. You know the one, where he looks sideways at me, eyes in the very corner of his eye sockets. Kind of threatening in a poofter kind of way.

I offered to go on my own, I offered to leave him comfy on the couch, but no, he was coming by then.

Shane’s room stank strongly of BO as we left. I thought that maybe it is one of his sad sexual fetishes, like drinking piss, or not being able to cum unless he had pain inflicted upon him, but Sam thought I was wrong. We managed to leave the house without saying good bye to him, oops. I think he was upstairs.

On MasterChef they made Pain Perdu, bread soaked in milk, lovely. I must make some, I reckon. It looked rich, creamy and smooth.

We watched The Cars That Ate Paris. Sam thought it was rubbish.