Swamp Monster

We work with a finance accountant who nobody likes. My colleague calls her Vinegar Tits. I call her Acid Drops.

She came in during the morning and said that she had a sore back because she had emptied out her pond on the weekend.

I smiled sweetly and said dead pan, “Oh really, so where did you sleep?”


There was a pause, when the world seemed to stop momentarily, that is the moment that I love. That millisecond of potential chaos where it could go either way, but didn’t. Acid Drops looked a little surprised, big eyes, mouth like a fruit loop.

Then I laughed.

And then she laughed, kind of nervously.

Then everybody laughed. Aren’t I funny everybody thought.

“Aren’t you funny,” she said. (And I learnt something that Acid Drops may, actually, have a sense of humour)

It is amazing what you can say if you just make a joke of it. You can get away with just about anything. Of course, they all think I am lovely. I’m on my best behaviour when I am in the office, naturally.

I think the key was that I didn’t add “swamp monster”, or anything like that to the end of my question to Vinegar Tits. The fat, moody cow, everyone hates her. I’m just smart enough to say it in such a way that they all think I am being awfully amusing.

How Do You Think Um, Harmonising The Polls Goes?

Abbott and his government were one of the most hated in Australian history after they had bought out their first budget. They'd fucked it up completely with their incompetence. So what do you think Abbott did it? How do you think it went? 

Do you think Abbott called up Lay.

"Ken, Ken, I'm… I’m… I’m having a little trouble in the po… po… polls."

"Yes, well, Tony it was that terrible budget you bought in."

"Ha a a a a a. I need a distraction, I need something to take my shitty budget off the… off the front page. You must have some of those loser, ah, er, mussos in your sights."

"Yes, Tony I do."

"Could you round a few up, make a show of it? Take a whole lot of your men. Make it a big ah… big ah… big ah… make it big."

"Yes, well, what about those new men I asked for?"

"Yes Ken, Ken, Ken, no ah, no ah, ah, problem. Anything you want."

"Okay, no problem, Tony. Do you need it this week?"

"Ah yes, ah yes, this week, yes. Good, we’re on life support. Ha a a a a. And ah, Ken, I reckon film it and we'll give it, give it straight to Rupert. I don’t want to have to rely on any of those lefty rat bag ABC Journos who are always squawking about transparency."

"I get my new men, Tony and you can consider it done."

"And Ken. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah if you could kill one, that would make it all the more believable."

"No problem, you know how trigger happy the boys are with the excitement of them immanently getting new powers.”


“Ah good. Ha a a a a a.”

Lick My Arse, Boy, I Made You Prime Minister

So, can you picture 83 year old Rupert Murdoch - I see black socks and a white singlet, pasty flaking skin, varicose veins outlining saggy skin - down on all fours, his ball sack hanging to his knees like spent elastic, with Tony Abbott dressed only in red speedos, pasty white skin, his back covered in patchy black hair, pulling his tiny dick, hanging from his budgie smugglers, as he slides his wet face repeatedly into the octogenarian's split beaver, as Rupert calls breathlessly, "Further in Tony, further in, I'm... I'm... I'm... nearly there." Pant pant pant. "Do to me what you have done to the Australian people, Tony!" Pant pant pant.


Maybe, I am the only one who can get that mental image? He, he, he, he. I find it cathartic, to tell you the truth.

What Was Once the Lucky Country

Does everyone realise that not only will the legislation being passed by the (one term Liberal) government this week allow ASIO to spy on you at any time for any reason in any capacity ASIO decides that it wants to spy on you, it will also ban you from visiting certain countries. The government will only allow you to visit the countries it thinks are suitable for you to visit. Did everybody realise this?

Please don't give me that tired old line, "If you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about," because I will counter that with the name of every Royal Commission into police corruption there has been, and there has been many.

Abbott and his team of despicable big business pawns – Rupert told Tony Abbott to lick his arse and the only thing Tony Abbott asked was, Is my tongue in far enough, Mr Murdoch? – have played the national security card because, with the show terrorist emergencies, because, let's face it, they have fucked up everything else. It is the only thing left for them that they look likely to have any success with. And to facilitate their only hope of retaining power, the Australian people have now lost their freedom and their right to travel the world freely. Does everybody realise that?

David On Facebook From Which I Am Banned

I left work at 4pm. It is lovely to finish the week early. Christine was going to pick up her son’s car in Collingwood, so she wanted to leave early herself.

It was a lovely afternoon.

We ate nachos as a snack as an early pre dinner.

We ate left over vermicelli noodles later on. Sam served up a mountain of them. There was left over stir fried veggies too.

We watched TV.

Sam went to bed early and I watched Big Brother.

David messaged me on Facebook late… even though we are not friends on Facebook. We’re not allowed to be friends by David’s own decree. He uses his Facebook page professionally and he has two friends who are banned as friends, who are too, shall we say, open and frank with their dialogue and can’t be trust, me being one of the two. 

Yes darling !!! Less mess here and more city appropriate ... Goodbye ... Bye bye ... Baba baba.... – David

You can't send me messages. You are not my friend – Christian

But I just did ... And you are my friend!!!! – David

Ha ha – David

not I'm not. you wont let me – Christian

Hahahahahaha – David

But you have always been my friend Dorothy – David

That's against the rules – Christian

No darling ...we don't need Facebook to be friends – David

We need messenger ... Lol!!! – David

we need marijuana – Christian

I gathered that when you started projecting that I needed pot – David

Won't Sam let you? – David

if you project, it means you have smoked too much. And you have to be careful not to hit anyone with it – Christian

Is thAt the case? – David

I presume YES and you've run out – David

all I have is fresh air and good intensions, sad as that sounds – Christian

BahahahahahahHa .... – David

Although there is a long weekend coming up, wink, wink, nudge, nudge – Christian

Yes ... Pull out the crack carrot under Sams nose ... Il certain shell bite and then voila ... Pot will be yours too.... Haha !!! – David

oh no, I don't need the green goddess when I have the white goddess – Christian. 

Of course, I didn't have any, but it's always a winning poker move to bring up an ex-addicts Achilles heel.

You're vile – David

BWHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – Christian

Walk Instead of the Great Doom and Gloom

I go walking now, instead of watching the news. I recommend that everybody do it. Go and see the world, rather than listening to how it is falling apart. 

You know, my opinion of the news now a days, Relax, it may never fucken happen. Switch the news off, that's what I say. And if you watch Media Watch, half of the news isn't true anyway. The worst thing that ever happened to the news was it being included in the ratings.

So, I go walking instead now. And I've got a great reminder, alarm, if you like. I don't need Outlook, or iPhone, or a smart watch, reoccurring events, or not, I've have Sam.

"Aren't you supposed to be going for a walk?"

"Um... er... oh..." I reply.

"Move your arse fat boy!"

It's lovely. I walk through the Exhibition Gardens, world heritage and all, watch the cute uni students at Melbourne Uni, laugh at the cars stuck in peak hour traffic in Elgin Street as I catch up to them and over take them and leave them behind, watching the day fade away to evening, before my very eyes, without noticing it fade away at all.


And I get dinner cooked for me while I am out. Although, it's not all beer and skittles as I have to clean the kitchen after Sam has used every pot and pan in the kitchen, as cooks who don't clean do, which is really annoying. I guess not as annoying as having your leg bitten off by a shark, or getting harpooned up the arse, but annoying enough.

Who doesn't like a nice arse crack?

I followed a guy on my way home on a bike who had the most perfect bum crack, pretty and perfect. His jeans slid down enough and his shirt rode up enough to give a perfect window onto his love crack.

I never understand why people, often women as much as men, turn up their nose, or pull a face, or say such sight is disgusting. You can understand straight men and, I guess, gay men have a special, maybe unique, relationship with arse cracks, but, woman are supposed to fancy men's bums too. Aren't they?

I so wanted to grab him off his bike hold him by the cheeks and push him face first into the nature strip and slide my tongue inside him... lick his nature strip. I quite like hairy cracks, although I don't like too much hair covering his cheeks, certainly not long hair, a fine down is okay, I guess.

Have him bent over the bonnet of my car. It is a tricky position to get them in, but it is good when you do. Legs spread, back arched. A lasso and handcuffs, if necessary. Ha ha.

That's how pretty it was. Sliding his undies down. Rubbing my nose in his fur. Smelling the sweat. Tasting his scent. 2nd knuckle in deep, in depth.

I've always been an arse man.

Shake of the head. Back to the real world. Concentrate on the road, Christian. Both eyes on the road. He continued straight ahead, as I turned left.

The afternoon sun sparkled. The sky shone blue. Everybody was driving home. 

We Can't Believe a Word Prime Minister Abbott Says

800 police raided 27 properties in two cities last week because of the immanent threat of multiple terror strikes and public beheadings and guess how many people were arrested and then how many were charged? 


Two were arrested and one was charged.

Let me just say that again, just in case you missed it. 800 police. 27 properties. 2 cities. 1 person charged.


Why all of that fire power? Do you think they wanted people to notice? I reckon if it was a real arrest, they could sent around 2 constables in a paddy wagon to pick the ONE guy up.


So are we to believe that this one person, possibly two, was going to cause havoc across two states? This one person, possibly 2, was going to blow up two cities and then go a beheading rampage?

Or do we believe the whole terror thing is all another big fat Abbott lie just to add to every other thing that Abbott has lied about?

I know which I believe. Prime Minister Abbott has never told the truth.

And after weeks of national security stuff, vilifying muslims, and putting fear into the population, One Term Tony is back at the top of the polls.

And here's a fun fact, the police filmed it all and released their own footage to the public, so no independent journalists were needed.

Gay Rights

The difference between Christianity and homosexuality.

Homosexuality is honest and real. Christianity is a myth and a refuge for the deluded.

Homosexuals want the right to live freely and equally with everybody else.

Christians want everyone to live according to what they believe.

Religion is failing, becoming more and more irrelevant.

Homosexuality is succeeding, becoming more mainstream... so much so that more straight boys and girls are willing to admit they have given it a go.

There aren't many people saying they tried religion and liked it. There aren't many saying they kissed a priest and liked it.

I think the groups that will survive and flourish in the "popularity wars" in the future are those who can live and let live. Religion needs to modernise or die. I reckon the gays have got it in the bag, public opinion has shifted. Religion will only look small and petty and out dated if it can't move into the 21st century with every one else. Come on religious freaks, you could still play an important social role, if you could just give up the hating.

Okay, so developing countries need to catch up, but they will. And Russia? It is a corrupt country run by a criminal, so it may take a bit longer. The basket case countries like Uganda may take forever.

India? What the hell happened with you this year?

Fat Girl Driving

I just saw a humungous woman in black covered in sequins, which made her look like a pin cushion stuck with pins, which is really unusual because the humungous woman in black covered in sequins in Fitzroy don’t usually come out until midnight, 3am. So I noticed her straight away. She was so fat that the features in her face were long since lost, distended, stretched beyond any thing anyone would reasonably call human.. 

She got into a tiny, bright yellow car, which almost made her look like some kind of crazed bumblebee, or death in a sunshine prison, I almost expected her to ooze out the window openings. As she went to sit in the driver’s seat she almost lost her balance, her eyes shot open and resembled boiled lollies on sticks, but she never looked in danger of losing her grip on the McDonald’s thick shake she had in her right hand. 

As she sat, the small Hyundai tipped sideways like those cars in the cartoons when the fat lady sits in them. The car sailed off down my street making the noise of the washing cart from Thoroughly Modern Millie. If someone had said, “Shoo shou, shoo shou,” I wouldn’t have been surprised. Or was that the springs mimicking Little Toot? “I think I can, I think I can.” I could see that she had to continually over correct the steering wheel to the left to stop the car heading around in a circle, as she drove past. I kid you not. 

Sam thinks I am wicked re-telling this story, but it simply made me laugh.

It would be kind of nice to be able to look at your partner in such a way some 30 years after death. it is kind of nice, even this late in life

Saturday Saturday

It was a lovely day, the sun shone, the sky was blue. Sam announced early in the morning that it was a shopping day. 

"Get ready," he said. "We are heading to town." We had sushi train for lunch. 

We bought t-shirts 70% off in Bourke Street. I bought two new work shirts, one black, one maroon check, as I am sick of feeling the "same old blue" in the office. (that is not exactly true, but I do seem to have a lot of blue shirts at the moment) We picked up groceries in Russell Street. 


I had some idea of looking for a new phone deal, mine runs out in a little over a month, but all of those people wanting to prostrate themselves at the feet of Apple for the iPhone 6, for fashion, got in the way. Sam lined up on "the morning" days ago, naturally. (He got the iPhone 6 plus) I don't really care, I'm very happy with my 5S. I can wait until the brouhaha quietens down. I only text, as all my friends know, (I don't want to talk to any of them) so a new deal shouldn't be too hard to pull off. Let's face it, phones are just silly. Or is that people? Whichever? Still, it was a lovely day. Crisp and bright.

Oh yes, I had a haircut. A few years back when my haircuts went from $50 to $60 I baulked (actually, it was because I kept getting passed off to the fat apprentice, which I was complicit in as I kept ringing for a haircut at the last minute, however) and I went to the barber and got it for $20, recently rising to $25. Today I got it for $10. Hairdressers are cunts, lets face it, they should be deported with the terrorists.


It was a lovely day, though. Sunny and warm. And Saturday. You've got to love Saturday, as it is always followed by Sunday.

Christine's Justin

Sam got up at 5am and headed into the city to line up for his iPhone 6. We chatted a bit, I should have gone with him, you know, be a good boyfriend, but pretty quickly I fell back to sleep.

You know, these terrorist raids that have been happening over the last 24 hours, with stories of immanent attacks and beheadings, I don’t believe they are true, they stink of being a political stunt by that idiot Abbott to boost his popularity. Why it is evil and sad if they are untrue is that it came into my mind as Sam left the house. With these ideas so fresh in everybody’s heads, here is someone walking alone in the dark who could easily be grabbed. It is criminally sad if it is a political stunt to boost Abbot’s popularity, if it makes us all fearful. It’s the seeds for the destruction of democracy as we know it, because we become fearful, not optimistic, because of a political lie.

Christine was going to be in late, as she had to take her car to be serviced. She was going to then drive her son Justin’s car in…

…she showed me a photo of Justin once. Christine is not a looker, so I wasn’t expecting much from Justin, and while he had the same thatch of nothing brown/blond hair, almost exactly the same as Christine, he was not bad looking. He had his arms up, and his t-shirt had risen up to show the perfect hairline down his stomach disappearing down the front of his jeans. I instantly pictured a bush of sandy/blond hair, and although he had on baggy jeans, he did seem to have quite a noticeable bulge in the front of them. I was lost for words a little, as I couldn’t say my first thought. Normally, I would, but you can’t say that to a work colleague and a mother, and I kind of stumble to say anything else… “Um, ah…”

(The women I work with know I'm gay, I swear they show me their sons to get my reaction)

She said she wouldn’t be too late, which probably meant she wouldn’t actually be late at all. Don’t think you are going to get the morning off to write your journal, Christian.

As I thought, she arrived not long after the usual time.

We were scratching for things to do, so Christine gave me a small project to do which involved some research for one of our software applications. Easy peasy.

Christine left at 3pm to go and pick up her car.

After Christine left, I got to do some work on my August Journal. Editing. Printing. I shouldn’t print it at work, considering I talk about all of my work colleagues in my journal, but I am very careful. Oh, could you imagine if I left some of it on the printer.

I left at 4.55pm. I was driving up [name of] Street at 5pm.

I went for an hour walk at 5.30pm. My hip hurt, I am not sure why. The hip I fell on some months ago. Bugger! I’m sure that isn’t good.

We ate tacos.

Sam showed me his new iPhone6. It is cream with a red case, which Sam says is stylish. I don’t like the colour scheme. 

I get the iPhone 5S, we have to install my thumb print on it for security. It doesn’t really look any different to my old iPhone 5 once my black phone case is put on it.

I fell asleep on the couch as we watched Heston Blumenthal.

We went to bed at 10pm, when Sam couldn’t stand me sleeping on the couch any longer.

I think I’d slept since 8pm. So comfy on the couch. I’m going to have to try and teach Sam to let me sleep on the couch. Yes, well, good luck with that.

Chatting The Afternoon Away With Jude

It was cold and wintry again, I almost felt a shiver as I stood in the kitchen and ate my breakfast.

It rained. It was raining.

I typed this as I ate my muesli and strawberries and drank my freshly brewed coffee.

It is 7.45am.

My assignment finishes in a couple of weeks, what I am I going to do afterwards? Will I get work? Do I want work? I thought that MMP should make Cathy redundant and keep me and Christine. Christine said we’d be scratching for things to do today, so what does Cathy do anyway? Nobody likes her, to boot, which I am surprised about, as I have always liked her. They don’t need a finance manager, Isaac, the HR manager, could do both roles. There is a spending freeze in force, so there are no new projects coming up.

I ate fried rice and veggies for lunch. 

Then I walked to Vic Gardens to get another Powerball Ticket for the 10 million tonight. I wanted to give the guaranteed powerball number ticket a go. The girl behind the counter was new and she gave me 2 system 7 quick picks. She said she’d cancel them when I pointed out the error, but I decided to keep them too. I mean, you never know, now do you.

I paid my phone bill, a day early. I’ve been late with all of my bills lately, so I thought I’d get in early.

I bought a muffin @ MuffinBreak. 

I came back and pretty much chatted to Jude for the afternoon. 

Sam, Buddy and I walked to the supermarket. Buddy and I walked to Johnston Street and back while Sam shopped. Then we walked home. 

Then I went for an hour walk. My leg hurt, my tibialis anterior, my shin. I have to do more research into it. It sometimes hurts when I walk, but not always. I did some scant reading on it recently and there was something about it hurting if you don’t warm up properly. I must get back to that and see what else I can learn.

I was fucked by the time I got back. My hip was hurting as well as my shin. It was the first time my hip hurt, not sure why. Fuck it! I hope it’s not that I am getting old. Ha ha. More likely it’s from when I fell down the other week, keep telling yourself that, Christian. 

We ate steak for dinner with mashed potato, peas, and corn.

Flirting With Jude

I washed the dishes as I ate my breakfast. See, I do do my chores in a timely manner, told you. Let nobody say I don’t live up to my agreements.

It was a lovely, sunny morning, some may say sparkling, so I didn’t wear a jacket for the first time since winter started.

I’ve been listening to Aretha Franklin all week in the car.

I took Riahanna with me today. 

Easy day, I spent flirting with Jude. Nyr. He flirts back, don’t you worry about that. If I was single, I’d be racing him off, no doubt. But, you know, my lovely boyfriend, I’m not really interested, to tell you the truth. Sam is my man. I know, that is really boring of me, but that is how I feel. Not Sam being my man, me not wanting to lick Jude's arse. (I mean, I do want to lick Jude's arse, his arse is just calling out to be licked, good & proper, but I'm not going to)

I had curry for lunch. The weather held up, so I went and sat outside, rather than sit in the windowless, grey lunch room. Yep, it is just an outdoor setting in the carpark, (life in the burbs hey?) but it has a northerly aspect, pretty much, and the sun was lovely today. Warm. Revitalising. 

I went for a walk for an hour when I got home. The sky was grey and I got rained on just a bit.

I built a fire.

I think Tony rAbbott should go and inspect the Ebola wards in Sere Leone personally.

Instead of sending troops to fight Isis, why don't we just transfer all the Ebola victims to Northern Iraq? Well, I mean, it isn’t anything worse than Isis has done. Okay, they’d have to be the terminally ill with no hope of recovery. Haha. Yes, I can see the problem with that. Perhaps we could just drop infect tissue samples from the air. Okay, those poor old Iraqi civilians, sure, we should think about them. Let’s just send Mr rAbbott to Iraq.

We ate fried rice for dinner.

I got my act together and did the dishes, instead of leaving it to the next morning. Sam cooks every night and I clean, most nights, maybe, the next morning, maybe when I get home from work, the next evening when Sam wants to cook again that’s not really the deal we have, and it points towards me being a lazy arse. Although, we already knew that.

I sat up and caught up on the episodes of Big Brother that I hadn’t watched.

And Here is Three of the Worst

We treat people badly and then we are surprised when they act badly

If you cut the dole even for only six months, if you price people out of education, especially those people from lower socio economic back grounds, if you make health care relatively more expensive for the less well off people, if you freeze, cut, or lower the basic wage, if you allow industries to slide away assigning many young men to unemployment, if you allow society to become more unjust and you promote policies that make society more inequitable, if you only govern for the wealthy to make them richer than they are, if you treat the displaced with disregard, or worse, manipulate them for your own gain, you will get more disgruntled young men wanting to fight against the world. You will create more disenfranchised young people who will travel to other countries to participate in war.

Snow Flake Christians

Sam reached over and flick my ear first thing this morning. 

Pow!

“Ah.” I covered my ear. "You rat!"

Sam laughed. He had that determined look on his face. It woke me up and made me take up a defensive stance. After that, fingers were locked and loaded but none were fired.

We head down stairs. 

Buddy sat with his head resting on my thigh, as I sat on the couch and ate my breakfast.

I raced through Collingwood and Abbotsford at 8.30am. I quite like weaving through the traffic in the morning, it wakes me up. My car can beat any other car on the road, something some people find out, I presume, to their surprise. 

I zip into the work carpark before 9am feeling alive. 

Everyone was in, we chatted about our weekends, Christine went to Justin's sports match, Shayleen had a relaxing time home in Ballarat, Jade and Kaia did things with their boyfriends, Isaac is looking for a new house, I didn't hear what Melinda did, but she probably laid on hands some place and spoke in tongues, before we all got down to work. 

Mid morning, we watched a taxi driver washing himself outside our office windows in the side road outside our building. We all stood at the window and looked out. 

“The whole thing is odd,” said one of us as we gawked at this fat guy with a bottle of water in his hand splashing it over himself.

The he bowed his head and he was clearly praying and everyone seemed to change their attitude. 

Jade and Kaia said they felt terrible having intruded on this man’s spiritual time. 

“Us intruding on him was a very bad thing,” said Melinda.

“Oh, the whole thing is still odd,” I said.

“You have to learn to be more open minded,” said Melinda.

“And religious people are famously so open minded,” I said.

“Whatever it is that you are? Atheist? You have to learn respect other people beliefs.”

“Something religious people have shown through example so well,” I said. 

“Yes, they have,” said Melinda.

“Christianity invented bigotry against anyone who doesn’t agree with their mythical beliefs,” I said.

Christine looked at me with wide eyes.

“Mythical beliefs,” exclaimed Melinda

“Nothing more than the ideas of the world of 2000 year old illiterate goat herders,” I said.

Christine looked at me, slicing her hand across her throat and shaking her head.

Sam Buddy and I walked to the supermarket after work. Sam shopped while Buddy and I walked to Johnston Street and back.

I changed into shorts and went for an hours walk after we get home. It is good, it clears the mind and relaxes me, helps me shake off any thing that is bothering me.

Sam made a great butter chicken curry.

Say Anything, Do Anything To Keep And Retain Power Abbott

Oh, I am feeling quite sad, listening to Q&A, A scientist, medical researcher, while talking about cancer cures, that Acute Myloid Leukaemia now has a magic bullet cure that has transformed the lives of those people suffering from Acute Myeloid Leukaemia who now live normal lives. That was the leukaemia that Tom had. My gorgeous friend, Tom. Oh how I miss him. 

We had ear flicking competitions in the bathroom as we brushed our teeth. Sam gets so competitive when I land a good shot on his ear. He’s funny, he gets so tense and so determined to get me back.  He gets that determined look on his face. We did hand slapping each other. 

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. We laughed a lot. 

We bounced off the bathroom walls. 

“Ow!”

Flick! “Ow!”

Flick! “Ow!

“Ow!” Flick!

Shake Your Torpedo

According to ninemsn, Ricky Martin has been subsiding in Australia for part of the year... (actual wording of the article I read)

I wonder if that hurts? Do you think he'd be going one leg at a time? Gout then Gangrene? You know, listing like the Costa Concordia at midnight? Melting into the ground one foot at a time. Can you imagine the skin on his feet bursting and his raw flesh being eaten by beetles and spiders and ants. His nails popping off with the worms pushing through. Half man, half earth mound. Flesh like dust, bones like a tinned sardine, dissolving downwards.

Rumour is that Ricky’s doing it with Ian Thorpe? Really? What? Ricky’s checking out the Thorpedo, is he? Ricky and Ian, huh?

They both claim they are just friends. 

Do you think Ian’s cheeks are looking different lately? A different shape? Or is that just me? 

What a Latin heartthrob likes?

Mean?

Well, quite possibly.

I certainly don't mean to be... er... um...

Ah Tony Abbott? What Is There To Say?

Prime Minister Tony Abbott has raised Australia's public terror threat from 'medium' to 'high' to boost his ranking in the polls. It is that simple. There have been no threats made against Australia by anybody. There is no intelligence to suggest that anybody is planning to attack Australia. 

When you have failed politically, hit the national security button, it is a sure thing. There is nothing this despicable man won't do to save his politic career? 

I am reminded of the words of Malcolm Fraser, the elder statesman of Tony Abbott's own political party, "I think Tony Abbott would say anything and do anything to gain and retain power."

A Couple Of Disgruntled Militia With A Rocket Launcher

It poured with rain during the night and the atrium roof leaked. A wet floor was what greeted us first thing. BooHoo. What a way to start the day, with mops and buckets. 

Jude at work said he wished that I could stay at MMP. They think that I am much more fun than Cathy who I am replacing while she is in Europe on holidays

"Is there any way you can stay?" he asked. Isn’t he sweet, for a straight boy. 

None of the girls in the office really like Cathy. Three don't, one does. I work in an office of girls and Jude, of course. 

“All we need is a couple of disgruntled militia with a rocket launcher," I said. "And I’d be happy to stay.”

The girls in the office eyes widened noticeably and they all laughed nervously.

“Too soon?” I asked.

They laughed some more. We all laugh a lot. It is a fun environment. They say they never laugh when Cathy is in the office.

Sam and I walked to Woollies, after work. Sam did the shopping and I continued on for an hours walk. I’m getting to enjoy my hour walking.  I don’t want to speak too soon, though, hey.

My goal is to lose the nearly 5 kilos I have put on. Gotta keep on top of it, I think.

We ate Tomato soup for dinner.

David was talking about the new spiritual course he is doing. ‘Dancing With The Gods’, with his usual handful of sycophants, as he puts it. Actually, it is me who refers to them that way, one of the reasons I’m not allowed to be his friend on Facebook. 

What Would I Have To Do, Said David

David has gone overseas, on one of his frequent overseas trips. Before he left we got talking about the safety of flying, you know, with what has happened in the more recent past. (America poking its nose into any country it chooses foreign policy until all of the west is seen as the enemy)

David was saying that flying is, after all, the safest form of transport.

I was saying that you'd have to be an idiot to fly around about now.

He says he does it all the time, which he does.

I was making rocket launcher sound effects, which was interesting, as I have absolutely no idea what a rocket launcher sounds like. A bang and a lot of whooshing of air, I assume.

David said he had Krishna, or Vishnu, or Shiva, or Lakshmi, his personal favourite, or whoever, on his side. Lilly pads, elephants, twenty arms, whatever nonsense that he believes in to keep him safe.

I asked him if he knew what countries he was, actually, flying over?

He said he didn't.

I grimaced and sucked in a lot of air, shrugged and pulled a face.

"You know I'd come back and prove you wrong," said David

"Good luck with that."

"No, seriously..."

"Seriously?"

"I'd come back and prove it to you," said David.

"What exactly?"

"That you are wrong that this isn't it, that there is something else."

"Tom said the same thing and since it has been roughly seven years since he died, I'm claiming victory with Tom. Nothing."

"What would it take?" said David.

"What would what take?"

"That you knew it was me and that this is only one of many incarnations?"

"Oh please."

"No, come on, what would I have to do?" asked David.

"You can live in this flat-earth fantasy, if you want, but don't try to drag me into it yet again."

"What would it take?"

"What would it take?"

"Yes, what would convince you?"

"Haven't we been through this a million times," I said. "You are as bad as the rest of them. I'm not telling you what to believe, so why are you trying..."

"Come on."

"Okay," I said. "Someone would have to walk right up to me."

"A stranger?"

"A stranger, out of the blue," I said. "I would have to see them walking towards me from a distance, possibly across a plaza, or square, see them approaching with some intension. They would have to walk right up to me, stop in front of me, look me in the eye and say, You were wrong. And then simply walk away."

"Okay then," said David.

"Okay then?"

"That's all."

I laughed.

"You'll see."

"Here's to a rocket launcher and some disgruntled militia, to prove a point."

Pretty Much Chatting Jude Up

I did all the pots dishes before I left for work. Oh, I just couldn’t have all of those dirty pots lying around any longer. The kitchen looked like shit. I ate my muesli and strawberries and cleaned up the dirty dishes. Sam cuts up the strawberries and puts them on my muesli when I am showering. Isn’t he cute.

It was windy and sunny.

I didn’t get to work until 8.30am. It is amazing now that I am smoking again how much less time I have. Non smoking Christian gets to work at 8.10am, 8.15am. Smoking Christian gets to work at 8.30am, by the time he has a smoke before he gets into the car and has a smoke when he gets out of the car. That is fifteen to twenty minutes wasted smoking. How much time over a year do you think that would be? Or ten years? I don’t mean just in the morning but overall, in total used up smoking?

I ate the cauliflower soup for lunch. Then I went for a walk to Victoria Gardens. I’m trying to get out, rather than sit on my arse, even if I walk to the ash tray at the very beginning of Victoria Gardens and then walk back. 

Jude came with me. 

It was warm as we walked.

“How are you liking it?

“Yeah, good, everyone is nice.”

“Especially with Cathy away.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve alway liked Cathy.”

“Yeah, she’s okay, I guess.”

“I was surprised when I found out the extent to which she isn’t liked.”

“She’s just too bossy.”

"I guess I can see that,” I said.

We walked a bit. It was a nice day.

“So, do you have a favourite?”

“What?”

“A favourite in the office?”

“At MMP?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, that would have to be you.”

Jude laughed nervously.

“Well, you asked,” I said.

“Is this more of your gay humour?” Jude asked.

Jude and I had previously had discussions on gay humour, at one point.

“Gay truth,” I said.

We headed into Victoria Gardens. Jude went to the salad bar and got salad for lunch. I got a muffin from MuffinBreak.

We were walking back to the office.

Jude said. “If I was gay…”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I could go for you,” said Jude.

“What? Jude?” I said.

“Well, you are funny and smart and,” I’m sure Jude blushed. “And handsome.”

“So are you,” I said.

“You must know, as Isaac said, “You won the popularity competition unanimously in the office for someone to replace Cathy while she was a way.”

I couldn’t help myself and the though more than turned me on a bit. “You know what you’d have to do, don’t you?”

“What I’d have to do?” said Jude.

“If you were gay and going for me,” I said.

Jude blushed and smiled his gorgeous broad smile. “Yeah, I have a good idea.”

“So, there wouldn’t be any surprises, then,” I asked. We both knew we were being silly by this stage.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” said Jude, “It would all be a surprise, don’t you worry about that.”

“I’d try not to scare you too much,” I said.

Jude laughed. “It would all scare me. I have no illusions.”

“You’d be fine,” I said. “Like riding a horse.” I couldn’t help myself. 

“Like riding a horse,” Jude repeated. He was still smiling.

We were back at the office by this stage. Jude stepped forward and opened the door for me.

“Thank you,” I said.

That was the end of the conversation.

Just a Monday In The Office

I put the dishwasher on before I left for work. I’m getting into cleaning up in the morning. I seem to have time enough and the willingness, then. Oh, okay, it is guilt. Of course, it is guilt. Sam cooks every night and my side of the agreement is to clean. Yes, sure that agreement, of course, means the night of the cooking. But, surely it isn’t so bad the next morning? It isn’t terrible? Not the spirit of the agreement? Maybe not?

When I wasn’t smoking, I had more time, sure, and that is why cleaning them in the morning was so easy. When I am off the fags again, I’ll have the time again.

Roz text me and said she’d be able to give me a birthday kiss, when we go to see mum on Sunday.

“Oh, what date is it?” I asked her.

“The 08th.”

“Oh, too late to send the other one a birthday card, hey?” I said.

“The other one being your only brother,” Roz replied.

“The one and only.”

Roz said, “You’ll have to call him.” Will, I had no choice. “Go on, call him. Wish him happy birthday,” she said. 

I don’t know what she was implying, I don’t mind calling my brother. She likes to keep tabs on her brothers but, maybe, all sisters do? I don’t know. 

I called Will a bit later. We had a bro talk. 

“Happy birthday, bro,” I said.

“Thanks, Chriso,” he replied.

No, I don’t call him Willo. 

We chatted for a while. 

Everyone was head down and bum up at work. We all seemed to have plenty of work to do, and it was like a library all day.

Shayleen was out at the other sites speaking to the troupes.

Isaac the HR Director was in his office.

Jade and Kaia were huddled together doing HR stuff, I guess. They are a bit quiet when Shayleen isn’t around.

You know, Shayleen is the one. She’s exceptional, competent, smart, funny, worldly, beautiful. I know, I don’t say that often, ever, about HR staff, but she’d be a star in any organisation. The office is different when her wit and intelligence isn’t around.

Jude was pretty quiet too. I made eyes at from time to time, and he smiled back coyly.

I was kept with a steady stream of work from Christine who just kept sending stuff my way. 

We ate Cauliflower Soup for dinner, with crusty toasted bread to dip into it. I’m toast tart, after Sam gives me the nod to start cooking. Two pieces each. Three pieces each. What would you say is too many pieces of toast for a bowl of soup? Sam is always trying to get me to cut down to two pieces each, but I resist. It’s three pieces each as far as I am concerned. All the way. No discussion to be had. Thick crusty white bread with lashings of butter, behind the back of my hand, it’s what makes his bland soup tasty. He harrumphs and protests, but I tell him to stick to soup making, Soup Slag. 

We went to bed early and watch Q&A in bed.

Lazy Sunday

I wake up at 6.30am.

LouLou was asleep on the couch. Oh, I hate that. I must remember to say something to her about next time. Sleep in the spare room, we have more than one of them. I know she says she likes the couch. I wonder if it has something to do with the open fire. You know what chicks are like with heating.

Speaking of which, I rescue the fire. It is still burning, just, so I get small pieces of wood and re-fuel it. It bursts back into life. I know I have said this before, but getting fires burning again is one of my few talents.

Sunday mornings are made for old jazz singers, Cleo Lane, Vince Jones, Nancy Wilson. I put Vince Jones on quietly, which doesn’t disturb LouLou who is still asleep on the couch. She is a heavy sleeper, I know that.

I make coffee and take it and the mull box outside to the wicker chairs on the veranda. Buddy comes in as I go out. I roll a couple of joints outside and smoke them, enjoying the serenity of the morning. Sunday mornings should be serene just with the soft melody of jazz. Or even the soft whir of the breeze, even. 

The bulldog is stretched out in front of the warming flames when I come back in again. 

I make more coffee. I head back outside and roll a couple more joints. Well, I can’t do much inside with LouLou asleep. She is a heavy sleeper, but I still don’t want to wake her up.

I smoke too much pot and have to lie down on the other couch by 7.45am. I put on headphones. I kind of drift off, half asleep and half awake, relaxing, feeling like I am melting into the couch itself. I love that feeling. 

Sam got up at 9am. LouLou was still asleep. I wanted him to make more coffee, but he didn’t want to wake LouLou up. I said, 

“Don’t worry, make coffee.” 

Sam held his finger to his mouth. “Shhh.”

Sam and I sit on the two smaller couches doing screens.

LouLou eventually wakes up. We chat for a bit. She makes tea. I smoked a couple more joints, she won’t smoke any pot when she has to drive. She makes more tea. Then she makes more tea.

Eventually she gathers the multitude of bags she has bought with her together into her car. 

LouLou left in the afternoon. She was heading to the Springvale Crematorium. I didn't really ask why? It would be a good place to get stoned first, I reckon. And then, you know, float about. After that she was going to Kilsyth. I had to give her directions using the toll ways. I thought she’d never do it, being Ms Sat Nav Challenged. But, she did it, no problem.

We didn’t do much for the rest of the day. It was a lazy Sunday. 

We ate stir fried veggies for dinner.

I didn’t wash the dishes before I went to bed. Bad me. So much for a new leaf turned. 

Chriso how are you honey I had a nice long chat with Antony and got an update on everyone glad you have a really nice man in your life send me a home line and I can call you still struggling to learn skype we can use that too I love you very much 

Connie Papas

LouLou Comes to Visit

I tossed and turned after 6am. We both got up to have a piss. I couldn’t sleep very well after that. I reckon it is the mountain of doonas we sleep under, the days aren’t quite so cold anymore and I get too hot.

I gave in at 6.22am. I knew what Sam was going to say.

“Can’t bear to be away from your goddess for too long,” croaked his voice out of the dark.

“Ha ha,” I said. Right on queue. 

I rolled a joint and read about Joan Rivers. I thought about this line again, when a prince, a prime minister and a president all stop for a moment in their busy lives to tell the world that they are saddened by your death, you know, pretty well, that you made it on the world stage. How many people can make that claim? RIP. Joan.

I got cold, I lit a fire.

Buddy came in around 7am. He wanted to go upstairs to bed with Sam, so I opened the door for him. 

9am. Neither of them have appeared.

Amy Winehouse sang. What a great voice. What a shame. I mean that’s all you can really say, hey? What a shame.

I cleaned up the kitchen.

Cleo Lane sang. What a great voice, so soothing. She’s kind of the polar opposite to Amy, at 87 years of age, with a full and lustrous career behind her now.

I sat down and ate muesli with peaches, and caught up on the rest of the news online. 

Ukrainian government and pro-Russian separatists signed a tentative cease-fire agreement in Minsk to end fighting in the Donbass region. Poor Ukraine.

Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott concluded a high-profile state visit to India, meeting with Prime Minister Narendra Modi in New Delhi about trade. What do you think we could trade Mr rAbbot for?

LouLou was coming after lunch.

Sam was up at 9.05am. He made coffee. He told me I should have eaten the fresh strawberries for breakfast, when he realised I’d eaten peaches. I wish I had.

Apparently, we had to wash the dog. He stank, even I thought he stank. And we did. Buddy is easy to wash. He happily takes himself upstairs, heads into the bathroom and gets under the shower, all by himself. Sam now has a hair dryer to dry him with.

LouLou text a few times around midday. Of course, she was running late. Something about unexpected visitors at home and beds needing to be made and rooms needing to be cleaned.

LouLou was a few hours late, mid afternoon, by the time she arrived, but that is practically early for her, she is never on time. She is always late. She is another one who parks out the back, can’t find a parking spot in the street to save her life, apparently, but that is easy to deal with with her as she has a small car. 

We indulged. LouLou and I indulged. And again, Sam never said no. He never says no, despite his protests.

We didn’t eat dinner. We had junk food that LouLou bought. She bought a lot of cheese and biscuits and chocolate, of course. She always brings chocolate, who knows how she stays rake thin. Sam had a headache.

Joan Rivers

When a prince, a prime minister, and a president, all stop for a moment in their busy lives to tell the world that they are saddened by your death, you know, pretty well, that you made an impression on the world.

 

Joan Rivers, you were one of the great ones. Fearless, original and fucken funny.

I woke up to the news of Joan Rivers dying, first thing on morning radio. I had been expecting she would. It is very sad news. She was amazing. A comic legend. I feel kind of heart broken, as ridiculous as that is to say.

LouLou hadn’t called as she said she would. So, I called her. She was on the phone. She’d get back to me, she replied to my text. She called not long after. She said that the function she was coming down for wasn’t on until this time in October. She said she was looking forward to coming and staying, so she decided that she would come and stay anyway.

Did she need to get pot on her way down?

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay cool. I’ll call and I’ll go on my way down.”

“Do you know the way?” He asks nervously to Miss No Sense of Direction. 

“Not really, but I figure if the worst comes to worst, I’ll just come to your place in the afternoon and we can drive out together.”

“Okay, but if Guido is in Collingwood today, I can get it on my way home.”

She texts a little later to say she had it all organised. And that Guido was in Collingwood.

I called Guido, he didn’t answer. He called me back. He was at home. He had a day off. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll see LouLou tomorrow.”

Not in Collingwood today. 

Then during the afternoon mulling it over, Little Miss No Sense of (fucking) Direction, will stuff it up, she’ll end up in Whittlesea and decide not to come at all. She’ll arrive at midnight having got lost, wanting to head out to Guido’s there and then.

Sam was cross when I told him about the ensuing pot drama. I told him to lighten up.

“I might go tonight,” I said.

“Really, CF?” he replied.

Sam and I drove out in the evening to the edge of town.  Sam even had to pay for one bag, because LouLou wanted a bag to take home.

He’s a good boyfriend, buying the extra pot even when he doesn’t want any bought at all.

We went to Woollies on the way home. I still like shopping with him. I still like being just with him the best. 

We ate steak for dinner.

I wrote a summary of what had happened for the last 20 years (long lost recently re-acquainted friend) Esther, because Mark thought I’d be good at it. I emailed it to Mark before I went to bed.

We went to bed at 11.11pm. Sam fiddled around with the bed side music, gentle ambient music is the music of choice but he couldn’t get it to work. When he slid under the doona, finally stopping, his arm was freezing. His hand was ice in mine.

Jude's Girls

This morning, Jude, I wanna say, the other girl in the office, was banging on about how he is feeling since he broke up with his girlfriend, Steph, two months ago. He dumped her, she wasn't quite Ms Perfect enough. Will he ever feel better? Will he get over it? Will he be left on the shelf.” (At 25 roll of the eyes)

“It had to be done,” he said. “But, I dunno if I have made the right decision.”

The girls told him that he probably had, if he’d gone with his heart.

“There are lots of other girls,” said Shaylean. 

Melinda said to him, to comfort him, “Just feel confident that it will all work out in the end. That there is a reason for all of what you are going through now.”



I nearly asked Melinda what she thought of the story that I read in the paper today. I opened and closed my mouth, but I didn’t in the end. I didn’t really want to make such a big deal of it. I didn’t want to look as though I was trying to convince her of anything, so I kept my mouth shut. Live and let live. You only have to state your position, Christian, you don't want to hit her over the head with it. But, I so wanted to ask her what she thought of the following.



There was a young guy in America, Kevin, who rode his bike down the east coast, from Maryland to Florida, to ask his girl friend, who he loved and who loved him, to marry him. Ring in his pocket, how romantic. He was two hours from his destination when he stopped in a town, Verno Beach, to get Maccas and have a break. He was on his phone to his girlfriend when a homeless man stabbed him to death, because he thought that Kevin was using his phone organising people to attack him.

Okay Melinda, what was the plan here for this young guy’s life?

Plan? My Arse!

Melinda, at work, was espousing her worldview. As she is want to do. Very definite in her ideas, is Melinda. She has one of those nasally accents, to go with it. She's loud. Opinionated, nasally and loud, that is what we are talking about.



“Everything happens for a reason and there is a reason for everything," she said. "Don't you agree, Christian?"

“No, sorry, I don’t agree. Not at all! Life is a collection of random events,” I said. “Of course, you can influence your life with your choices, good choices and bad choices, but essentially there is no meaning, no plan to any of it.”

She was aghast at my thoughts. She was in disbelief, seemingly, that I could think in such away. Wide eyes, big expression, pausing completely still in disbelief, gazing back at me. I concluded by saying that I was simply telling her what I thought, I wasn’t telling her that she should think the same thing.

Then later in the day she, gently, mocked me for my beliefs.

“Of course, Christian, doesn’t believe there is a reason for anything.” She seemed to work into most of the conversations for the rest of the day. I could have felt belittled for my thoughts, if hadn't thought is so very boring by late in the day. 

She was the one who asked us what we thought. It is so like so many Christians, they will espouse their Christian view, but when someone tells them opposing views, the Christian will mock those opposing views. However, if someone mocks their Christian views, they will claim they are under attack, or they are being shut down for their views.

Imagine what her reaction would be if I worked, “Of course, Melinda believes in fairytales,” into our conversations, repeatedly.

I’m just pleased that I worked out years ago that I don’t have to convince anyone else of, pretty much, anything. Believe what you like. 

Of course, I see Christian belief as a sign of a lesser developed character. Imagine if I told her that. 

What Malcolm Said

Malcolm finished his lunch. He sat back and let the sun fall on his face. He was full.

He took his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one. The smoke curled in the rays of the sun. He had always loved to watch them curl.

“Would you mind going somewhere else and smoking that?” asked the nice lady in the twinset and pearls, sitting at one of the other outdoor tables.

Malcolm felt encroached upon and just so slightly annoyed by the intrusion. “This is somewhere else,” he replied.

“I’m sorry?” said the nice lady in the twinset and the pearls. Her sweet, saccharine smile fading just a little.

Really? What did she think he meant? “Well, we were once allowed to smoke anywhere, we were once allowed to smoking inside, but now we have to smoke ‘somewhere else’,” he made parenthesis in the air with his fingers. “Which is out here.” he spoke deliberately slowly, as if to highlight the nice lady in the twinset and pearl’s age. “So I am, actually, already, smoking this”, he held the cigarette up in the air, “somewhere else.” He made parenthesis in the air again.

“It is just that I am allergic to cigarette smoke,” said the nice lady in the twinset and the pearls. “I’m sure you understand.” She smiled that kind of smile that ended the conversation in her favour, no question.

Malcolm assumed the nice lady in the twinset and pearls was used to getting her way. “Well, may I suggest that you head inside, where the air is clean.” Malcolm smiled. He didn’t mean to smile, exactly, but he felt the corners of his mouth twitch, almost involuntarily, at the corners, as he finished speaking. He liked to think of it as his serial killer smile.

“Oh, um,” said the nice lady with the twinset and the pearls. “I don’t think you quite understand, I can’t…”

“I understand,” said Malcolm. “I completely understand.” He smiled his serial killer smile, again. “You are being ridiculous.”

The nice lady with the twinset and the pearls was clearly taken aback, but only momentarily. “You are being rude, young man.” She rolled the R on rude and clipped the 'young' and the 'man'.

“Young man,” said Malcolm. “How about that.” He looked around. “There is fresh air all around you here and me smoking a cigarette has nothing to do with any health requirements you may have and everything to do with your, um, how do I put this? Your twinset and pearls sensibilities.”

Her hand moved to her throat, almost involuntarily, where it fiddled with the top button of her cardigan. “I’ll have you know…”

Malcolm decided in that second that he had entertained the nice lady in the twinset and the pearls long enough. He held up his fingers making a talking mouth motion. “I’m getting a lot of this, old woman. When I should be getting more of this this.” He made a closed duck’s bill shape with his fingers.

Her hand clasped her throat. “You can choose to damage you health if you want, but it effects all of us whether we like it or not.”

Malcolm had had enough. “Well, go inside.”