Still, the day wasn't a total loss, that inarticulate fruit loop Barnaby Joyce was at least removed from all of our collective pain.
7am. Cameron arrived at the door, our plumber for the day. He was tall, dark and handsome and he sure did smell good. And seemingly a nice guy, which was true, but you have to add that now a days now don’t you. You can’t just say he was good enough to lick, now can you?
He installed a new hot water services and a new tap in the kitchen. Oh yes, our kitchen tap has been terrible for years. If only I could get a plumber to change it, I’ve said for years.
Every time I looked around Cameron seemed to be bending over, showing me his grey Calvin Klein jocks and his sexy arse crack outline under the soft grey material.
Soldier on with Codral, soldier on. (You know, having something to suck always makes you feel better)
If he only knew what I was thinking? No, he didn’t know what I was thinking? I wonder what straight boys would think if they knew what we were thinking. (I guess, that’s got to hurt, would be a fair summation of what they would think if they knew what we were thinking)
LouLou agreed that he smelt good. She lay on the couch all day in her dressing gown. I lit a fire for her when it started to rain.
LouLou caught an uber home in the afternoon, as we hugged, she said, “You saved me again.”
11am. LouLou messaged me and asked me if I could pick her up from the hospital. (She went back in by ambulance this week as she wasn't feeling well) She said it was okay if she couldn’t, as she had a backup plan.
I said, “Sure, let me know when you are ready.”
Sam was annoyed by LouLou coming to stay yet again. He thinks her family should be taking care of her.
“What is wrong with her sister? Her mother?”
He has to cook for her, and he doesn’t really want to do that. And it could even be that he has set the room up for his nephew (which he has) now and he doesn’t want it disturbed. I’m not sure, as he’s not really forth coming with his grievances, he just gets pissy and I have to guess to an extent what he is thinking.
So, it was LouLou, or pissed off Sam? And, we have the whole leaking hot water service thing going on and suddenly it all seemed too much.
I was supposed to be going to visit Auntie Mary with Roz, but it had been cancelled at the last minute due to a covid scare. So, I made an excuse about me forgetting I was going to visit Auntie Mary.
“Roz has just messaged me to say she’d be here in half an hour. Sorry, I completely forgot. Memory like a sieve.”
LouLou called me. It turned out because I’d said I’d go and pick her up, she had said no to her back up plan and now she had no one to pick her up. (Or she never had a backup plan and she was just hoping I’d be able to do it?)
“Is Sam going to be home?” asked LouLou. “Could I come around and stay with him?”
“No, he’s coming with me.” (Once I start lying, they just roll off my tongue. Many years ago, I realised being a really good liar never really did me any good, so I don’t lie now, as a rule. The truth is always more effective. But, you know, it’s like riding a bike)
“Could you leave the front door open and I’ll catch an Uber around to your place?”
“Oh, I’d rather not.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll work something out,” said LouLou.
I hung up.
I messaged her a short time later to make sure she had some else to pick her up. She didn’t.
Oh, how do I get myself into these situations, I thought? Seriously. (see lying never leads to good outcomes)
I messaged her back a short time later again to say Roz was happy to visit Aunty Mary on her own and that I’d come and pick her up.
Are you sure? She messaged back.
12.30pm. I went and picked LouLou up. Sam had just cooked me lunch and was annoyed again that I was leaving the noodles on the bench to get cold.
(You know, I have to drive all the way around to the front of the hospital, because the street is still blocked off due to the new underground station being built… and because LouLou’s sense of direction is worse than anything I have ever experienced, and because the street is all boarded up right out the front of the hospital, she can’t find her way around all the boarded up bits to Royal parade.
“I never thought you’d be coming to pick me up in the street in my pyjamas,” said LouLou when she got in the car.
As we got out of the car back home, LouLou said that she didn’t have any clothes, as she had come down in the ambulance from Bolago and she’d hope her family would bring clothes in when they visited, but they didn’t. I wasn’t sure if she meant they just didn’t bring the clothes, or if they didn’t come and visit? (She’d been in hospital since Tuesday) Sam rolled his eyes taking it as some sort of proof when I told him.
Sam and I ate noodles for lunch. (LouLou is anorexic so she doesn't eat. Not since 1971)
Sunday morning and Michael the plumber is on the phone early organising the work for Monday, giving me quotes and making times. Great. I think this guy is great.
"I'll be there at 7am tomorrow to assess what needs to be done, and I'll get it organised for later in the day."
"Thanks Michael."
Our hot water service started to leak all over the floor, a very bad sign for a hot water service. Grrrrr! On Saturday morning too. What sort of timing do you call that?
Some people would say it was good that my current hot water service had lasted 22 years. "Oh, that's really good."
Bullshit, I say. They should last forever.
Anyway, it meant I had to get off my fat arse and do something about it.
Sam has been dealing with a plumber for some maintenance he needed to get done at his place. So, I butted in on his messages.
He was replying late, getting it organised. I don't know, I'm guessing that some people might think a tradie messaging about work at 11pm Saturday means he is desperate and perhaps hopeless. I took it as a sign of being efficient and customer focussed.
We'll see, I thought, as I fell asleep.
Oh, I went out just for a sniff about, just in case there were any classic movie DVD gems to be had. Oh, what else should I be doing on my day off? (All that house maintenance that I never get to. Oh, bored already) Oh, yes, I know, how many movies are too many, when all is said and done, but fuck it, what the hell.
My movie collection just keeps growing and growing. (I hear Bubble saying that) It is mostly classic movies, as the modern ones I can stream pretty easily.
I picked up the following DVDs for $2.
Memphis Belle (1990), I loved it when I saw I first saw it years ago. I think it was all the handsome air force types. The heroes. All those blokes, as my mate Jules would say.
Point Break (1991), I liked it first time I saw it. (And now I realise it is a Kathryn Bigelow movie) Keanu and Patrick in skin tight wet suites, what’s not to like? Keanu was so baby faced. (I was never all that attracted to Patrick Swazey but I’d lick [this era’s] Keanu Reeves’ snatch in a heartbeat)
Doctor At Sea (1955), Just because Dirk Bogarde is reputedly so handsome. I remember reading about him recently when there was a movie retrospective, or some such thing. Okay, so this may not be the finest example of his artistry, but what the fuck.
Laurel Canyon (2002), I love it when I saw it the first time years ago. It was stylish and Christian Bale was handsome. (It was the only one that didn’t work? Nyr? Imagine how you’ll be feeling when you are worth two bucks)
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2011) which is finally a different release to the three I have already bought which didn’t work Cross your fingers, that this one works.
Gypsy (1993), because it is Bette Midler and I like to collect Bette Midler movies.
I collect Bette Davis, Bette Midler, Hugh Grant, Paul Newman, Katherine Hepburn, Meryl Streep, Jack Nicolson and Maggie Smith movies. And I have collected a few Marlon Brando movies.
The Lion in Winter (1968), because it is Katherine Hepburn. And I have never seen it.
Bonnie & Clyde (1967), just because it is a classic which I have never seen. And because Warren Beatty was handsome and it was before Faye Dunaway fucked up her face with all that bad surgery.
Steptoe & Son season 01 & season 6. A little before my time, but certainly in reruns on TV when I was a kid.
Look at those dates, nice work if you can get it.
June
1 – Wanda Metropolitano Stadium, Madrid, Spain
5 – Olympic Stadium, Munich, Germany
9 – Anfield Stadium, Liverpool
13 – Johan Cruijff Arena, Amsterdam, Netherlands
17 – Wankdorf Stadium, Bern, Switzerland
21 – San Siro Stadium, Mulan, Italy
25 – American Express Presents BST Hyde Park, London
July
3 – American Express Presents BST Hyde Park, London
11 – King Baudouin Stadium, Brussels, Belgium
15 – Ernst Happel Stadium, Vienna, Austria
19 – Groupama Stadium, Lyon, France
23 – Hippodrome Parislongchamp, Paris, France
27 – Veltins-Arena, Gelsenkirchen, Germany
31 – Friends Arena, Stockholm, Sweden
I wish I was in Europe to see them. They have never made a bad record, not in 50 years.
I voted yesterday.
It was down the local masonic temple, now there is weird little anachronism. It’s kind of a shame, as I actually liked the ritual of voting on the Saturday of the election. It really was a time when you’d see all of your neighbours come out of their houses and head to the local church (like the Borg) We'd all chat in the queue. Pat each other's dogs. And we'd all have a sausage on the way out. It was all very social.
I’m happy to tell you how I voted. I voted Greens first, with Labor second. As I live in Adam Bandt’s seat there isn’t much doubt who is going to win.
There was no wait at all for those of us voting in our own electorate, but over an hour for the tourists voting.
The nice lady said to me. “Do you have a valid reason for voting early?” Is that even a thing?
“No, not really,” I say.
“Oh,” says the nice lady behind the table. “Are you worried about the crowds on Saturday?”
“Oh, yes, I say, catching on quick. “I am worried about that.”
“That is a valid reason,” she says.
No sausage sizzle. Nothing. No chatting. Just in and out, running the gauntlet of, seemingly, volunteers of every party known to man hanging around the entrance to the building. But still, job done.
Later, I’d walk down with Sam, and Bruno, so Sam could vote too. While Bruno and I were waiting out the front with all and sundry, Bruno pissed on one of the Greens placards. The UAP (quite cute, nothing like a handsome redneck) boy laughs (almost) hysterically and says, “I wish I’d got that on film.”
“Is the UAP running a candidate?” I ask, kind of incredulous. (It wasn’t an act, I was genuinely surprised, in an inner Melbourne seat)
“Yes, that’s me.”
“An actual candidate?” I say. “I thought the UAP was a con just so Clive Palmer could give all his second preferences to the Liberal Party so they could sure up his coal mines?”
The smile disappears from his face. He doesn’t answer. He just kind of looks away.
I'm good. The summer has ended and the days are darker and colder, sad face. I'm still working from home, of course.
Actually, I went into the office for the first time since March 2020. They upgraded my laptop and I had to go in and get it and get it set up and all that blah, blah, blah. The security is better, I was encouraged to go in. It was suggested to me.
So, I got up at 6am. Showered, ate my vegemite toast and drank my coffee and left by 7am. It has been so long since I have done the walk that it almost seemed like a new experience. Ha, ha.
I got into the office at 7.30am. Nobody was there, the lights weren’t on. (They go on and off with sensors so, you know…) My big boss wasn’t in, nor was Big Ange. The three off us are the early arrivals. My big boss gets 500K, and Big Ange is a manager of her own dept, and the person who possibly lives the farthest away, so that’s their reasons for arriving early. I arrive early so I can leave early.
I cracked it for the morning breakfasts the company is putting on to entice us all back to the office. So, I stuffed my face with pastries and got the cute baristas to make me several coffees. I managed to ejaculate cream from a passionfruit profiterole all over the carpet in front of every one. Everyone looked. I grabbed a serviette to clean it up but the catering manager said, “Don’t worry about it, Christian, that’s why we have cleaners.” I gave it a few wipes none the less. Well, I already had the serviettes in my hand.
And then I met up with my muscle-bound IT guy (who is really nice) and I got my new laptop. I waited for the rest of my team to show up for work, testing out the new machine while I waited, getting some work done. We have all been encouraged to come into the office for at least one day a week, a directive I have thus far managed to ignore. Not one person in the finance team came into the office. (Apparently, The rich lawyers have maintained 5 empty floors in the Rialto for 2 years, more, although some of the lawyers are back in their offices.) So, at 10am I packed up my new laptop and headed home.
Not much has changed on the home front.
Sam and I are waiting for Sam’s 18 year old nephew to arrive. Sam is getting all sorts of things ready for him, short of this kid’s jocks & socks. He is here in weeks. He’ll start uni second semester. So that will be nice, we hope.
We're all crossing our fingers that the great big cunt running the country will be voted out on Saturday. Hold our breath. Cross your fingers, cross everything!
David left for Europe. He's been staying since last Friday, complaining about the cold, of course, as NSW people like to.
"You've come to Melbourne in Autumn," I say.
He's gone for 3 and half months. He is doing all sorts of stuff. Eurovision in Italy. The ABBA avatar show in London. Something in Vienna, I think, the new age bullshit he teaches to, what I assume are, bored, single women who can't find boyfriends, or husbands. (Oh yes, I know, that is sexist and, yes, all those things, but true too. He teaches bullshit and he makes a fortune) Sex clubs in Frankfurt. And he's going on a gay cruise.
He says he is my best friend. And I guess he is. (Maybe Sam is my best friend?) I'm not sure what I think about the concept of best friends anymore?
Funny concept the best friend. How many best friends do we have in one life time? I've been kind of hard on best friends. Mark was my best friend. Is still my best friend. Was once my long time boyfriend. Even when we'd been only going out for a year, people assumed we'd been going out for years. Mark moved away.
Tom was my best friend. Ah Tom. Now there was a best friend. You only get one Tom per life time. Seriously, the best best friend a boy could ask for. One of the smartest people I have ever know. Funniest. Coolest. Loveliest. He died of leukemia. He battled it for nearly 10 years, got to remission twice, but in the end he'd had just too much chemotherapy and a brain virus benign to the rest of us took him out in 3 days.
Anthony was my best friend. He was one of my first boyfriends. Well, kind of, back when we didn't know our arses from our elbows and we were only just working out what boyfriends are. We made better friends than boyfriends. He was smart. He was someone who always just got me. Always. He had mental health problems in the end. He went nuts, basically. We tried to rekindle our friendship more recently, but he was hitting the booze to cope with life and he was an angry drunk and I just had to raise my hands and say enough.
Fergus was my best friend. Oh, such a smart, funny, left of centre guy. Really one of a kind. He died of AIDS so many years ago now that... you know when you remember the idea of someone, even if you don't remember them exactly. Sad to say.
David is kind of the Ray Bradbury, chuckle, Steven Bradbury of best friends. Oh, I shouldn't say that, if he ever reads this... (Are you reading this?) As much as I love him, David is all consuming, of life - food, drugs, alcohol, people, whatever. David consumes them all for himself.
Anyway, David is living his best life. Good for him. Translation, travels the world for the Australian winter most years, desperately looking for a boyfriend, the likes of which seems to allude him.
And winter rolled up a day, or so, ago, and it rained and rain.
Now, I like the difference in the seasons and I like the rain, so I am not complaining, just making an observation.
In fact, if I had to choose between very hot and cold, I'd probably choose cold. (my cat Milo is now licking my left hand as I type, I don't really know why?) If we could have 29, 30 degrees, of course, I'd choose that.
Cake weather. We all want cake weather. How nice it would be to live on cake.
Aren't you all sick of the constant Liberal Party Lies. The times Morrison has been caught out lying, about telling Anthony Albanese where he was when he ran away from the bush fire problem to Hawaii. Morrison denying he called Sam Dastyari Shanghai Sam when he called him Shanghai Sam 17 times. Morrison denying he said Labor's electric vehicle policy was bad and then produced the same policy this election. About debt, which is now 10 times greater than Labor ever racked up. On tax. On climate policies, and their lack thereof. On fossil fuels? And the corruption. Sports rorts. Car park rorts. Water allocation rorts. The lack of action on climate change. The lies about climate change. The list goes on...
