David Attenborough

Happy 100th birthday to David Attenborough, a great man, who I wish has a lovely day.

Cold Snap

My day off. I was cold, despite having a bulldog on either side of me on the couch.

There has been a cold change in Melbourne with lots of rain, after a month of unseasonably warm, climate change induced, hotter weather.

Mid morning, I thought, this is ridiculous, I don't have to be cold, suspecting the cold adversely affects my sore shoulder, which seems to have inexplicably flared up again, so I lit only our second open fire for the year.

As I said, it had been raining for the previous 24 hours so, naturally, the wood was wet.

The fire failed spectacularly, managing only to belch smoke out into the lounge room at an alarming rate while it spluttered and nearly died, after which I had to open all the doors and windows to let the great plumes of smoke escape, as the air purifier started to scream hysterically, and the now freaked out Otto escaped outside to his kennel.

I chucked some paper in next to the dying coals and lit it and thought I'd cleared the chimney of cold air, which was stopping the warm air from drawing.

So, I coaxed Otto back inside. I threw another fire lighter at the fire, and more twigs and small pieces of wood, and it kind of spluttered back to life in a very poor way. And when it tentatively caught for a second time, that only seemed to cause another room filling belch of acrid smoke to escape out into the room, filling it again, which necessitated me opening all the windows and doors, yet again.

Someone call the fire brigade. No, don't. You know you have to pay for that.

So, after about half an hour of this fucking about, I was standing in a room open to the poor weather outside, colder than I was when I started out to light a fire, with some blackened sticks and kindling smouldering rather than burning in the fire place.

Good job, Christian. I don't think I have ever had a fire that has been so reluctant to burn. Wet wood? I swear I am usually a really good fire lighter, in fact, it has been said I'd make a great arsonist the way I can get a fire burning. Usually.

I was just waiting for Sam to come down from upstairs to ask me what the fuck I am doing?

Over an hour later, I was probably marginally warmed than I was when I started. And my shoulder still had low level aches.

Sam didn't appear.

I lay on the couch for the rest of the day after our near choking incident with two bulldog hot water bottles.

I re-wrote my blog entries in the morning. I watched YouTube in the afternoon.

The weather was pretty wet and lousy all day.

The World Today

 

I think Baffling is one of my favourite words. I like the way it rolls off the tongue. I always think of Stephen Fry when I think of favourite words. He's a favourite word kind of guy.

Monday In The Office

I was in the office today. Sad Face. 

I woke up late, 6.15am, unusual for me. I never set alarms now, I just wake up.

I had to jump out of bed and get ready, there was nothing else for it.

I was ready in five minutes. I left the house in ten minutes.

I ran for a tram that I nearly caught, but didn't. I ran after it until I was out of breath. I caught the next tram to come along.

I was in the office 6.45am.

Not bad, half an hour from waking up to me sitting at my desk turning my laptop on. Pretty good, I thought.

I still beat Big Ange in, who is normally in after me.

AtAboyMuscles was in after Big Ange.

No one knew I cheated the company out of half an hour, today, when I still left at 3pm. Shhh. Don't tell anyone.

Deep Heat

We ran out of Voltaren cream, so Sam went and bought Deep Heat.

Sam is fine, no permanent damge. There is just some moaning and groaning and swearing to a god neither of us believe in, when he gets up, straightens up, or stands up, but it seems to be getting better each time. So, we're not claiming disability, or destined to live on a widow's pension, just yet.

But Deep Heat? I hate Deep Heat. I hate the smell of it on my hands when I have to rub it on his back. You just can't get that smell off your skin with one wash. I hate the smell of it lingering in the air making the whole place smell like a sports change room.

Funny, because it takes me back to my time as a kid when I used to go with my dad to cricket on Saturdays. I used to sit on the sidelines and score in the big green book.

I used to go back with him to the club rooms afterwards when all the players from the three Bentleigh teams used to meet back at home base to celebrate, or commiserate, and drink beer and shower and get changed before the women came to the club rooms, usually with food to feed their men.

There was me, young, gay, son sitting in the middle of it all those men in those club rooms smelling of Deep Heat and liniment and sweat,  drinking beer and showering and walking around in the nude, uninhibited, dressed only in their undies, laughing and pissing about. It used to cause a bit of deep heat in me, let me tell you, when I got home that night. The Love brothers. Jimmy Glass. Pete Robby. Jeremy Laird.

You'd think I'd like the smell of Deep Heat, because of that. Transported back there into that world of men once again on the memory of a scent. An olfactory turn on. In the budding-gay Tardis of smells.

You'd think? But I don't. I hate it. The stuff stinks.

Sam Crashes To The Ground

We were taking the dogs for a walk, in the afternoon, I guess it was around 4pm, that sort of thing. I was faffing about being the last person to leave the house, as is my want. Oh, I don't know why? I guess I am just the more relaxed one of us two.

To be fair, Sam usually just announces its time for a walk and then he puts his shoes on and heads straight out the front door to wait. Strait to it. Usually, Brun, and possibly Otto, will wait out the front with him, although Otto, more often than not, will wait inside the house in the hallway as he has a want to be the last to leave the house.

So, I headed out the front last thing and Sam is sitting on the ground.

“Why are you sitting on the path?”

“Help me up will you?”

“But why are you down there?”

“Just help me up.”

“Help you up, old man, what are you talking about?”

“Give me your hand.”

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“Oh, ah, shit.” 

“What’s wrong?”

“Otto knocked me over.”

“Otto did what? How?”

“Otto was in the hallway, he saw a dog walk past the gate, he ran to the gate knocking me off my feet as he went.”

“Otto did?”

“Oh, my back. Oh. Ah!” Sam got to his feet. He looked at me.

“What happened?”

“I was standing on the front step looking at my phone one minute, the next minute I crashed down on the step, my back hit on the step.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is your back okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know.”

He had the shell-shocked look on his face of someone who has gone through something they haven’t quite worked out.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Sam shuffled off inside without looking back.

“I bought those anti-inflammatories this morning, take two.”

“Okay.”

“You have to take them with food, apparently.”

“Okay.”

I picked up the dog leads and took them for a walk.

As I walked the dogs, I wondered if I should have stayed with Sam longer. You know, was he okay? Was he damaged worse than we thought? Was he damaged worse than he thought? What if he had broken vertebrae? Cracked one? Chipped one? Imaging if he was permanently damaged? Those things happen to people all the time. People get permanent injuries from the simplest of mishaps. It happenes every day.

I text him. You oaky?

Annoyingly, I got back, I don’t know, again.

I kept walking with the dogs.

I text him again. Do you need to go to hospital? If you do, we can go when I get back? Or I can come back now?

I don’t know, he replied.

Thinking about it later, he was a bit in shock, I guess. I started to hurry the dogs along so we could get hime again. If anyone knows anything about bulldogs, you can't hurry them along.

I got back and Sam was on the couch with a blanket over him. He was asleep. (not so unusual for Sam, he has the ability to just drop off to sleep in an instant) I stood there and watched his chest go up and down just to check he was still breathing. Okay, I can be dramatic too.

He eventually woke up. He wanted me to put cream on his back. He said he couldn’t roll over. I helped him as best I could. He called out in pain as I rolled him. I rubbed Voltaren cream into his back.

He wanted his track pants. I had to pull his jeans off and dress him in his track pants. None of this alleviated my concern about him.

Luckily, we had leftover pasta in the fridge, which I could just microwave for dinner.

Sam said he fell onto the front step backwards, but he fell kind of on his back, but more on his side, and not flat on his spine, which I am thinking is lucky.

We called David who was medically trained at uni in his previous life, and asked questions, he said as long as his not getting sharp stabbing pain, he should be okay. 

“Keep taking anti-inflammatories. Tell me the name of what you have?”

We told him what we had.

“Take a couple of Panadol’s as well for the pain.”

"Okay," said Sam.

"You have to treat the inflammation straight way," said David.

Sam complained every time he had to move after that, but he said he could move fine, and it felt like everything was working properly, just painfully. 

I think he's okay.

He started bossing me around, which I take as a good sign, back to normal.

The State of the World

 

Doing Errands

My day off, where I would lie on the couch and watch endless YouTube left to my own devices, it is true. I mean, where else are days off for? I ask you?

So, Sam is sending me on errands.

"There are things that have to be done."

So, I am off to the petshop to get fish food and dog treats.

"It's free public transport," says Sam. "So, you can catch the tram."

Sam doesn't know any better, as he doesn't drive, but the tram stops right outside the pet shop, so it seems like a good idea. And, I like tram travel. It's relaxing. There is something nice about doing it in the day when you have all the time in the world. And it's good for the environment.

There are also a number of opshops and specialty record shops on the way, so it all sounds like a pretty good idea.

There is also the kitchen tap on the list. It has seized up and no longer swivels, easily, without it moving at the base, which will only lead to leaks in the end. We got it from IKEA and Sam worked out it has a 10 year warranty, so that has to go back, but possibly not today, considering the work that has to go into detaching it from the sink and water mains etc. That could be a job for tomorrow.

"And when you get back you can sweep the back yard," says Sam.

Er? Um? we'll see about that.

So, I'm off, out into the day.

Now, are my headphones charged? Best I check. I can't have the people I might meet out there encroaching on my bliss.

I shopped at numerous shops, second hand record/DVD shop and opshops and food shops. I bought a couple of old DVDs. I found myself standing next to my cute as hell next door neighbour, Tommy, in a Northcote bakery. I got on and off trams. I walked up the last bit of High Street to the pet shop, rather than catch a tram. I looked for a not-seen-lately friend’s hair salon, but it has gone. I wondered if that was happy for Con? Possibly not. I bought the dog treats and the fish food at the pet shop, which was my main aim. I stopped and took photos of wall art and graffiti. The sun shone. I walked the last few blocks home.

There is so much freedom to be felt being out and about on a sunny day, especially without a car and places to park to worry about, and a tram network to jump on and off. I don't think we realise how, quite so much.

Flu Shot

Flu shot 9.30am. Flu shot 9.30am. Flu shot 9.30am. Mustn’t forget. Flu shot 9.30am.

7:45am. I make Vegemite toast. Sam makes coffee.

What time do I have to leave? It has to be goldilocks time, as I want to get there right on 9.30am, so I can get in and get out without anyone knowing I was there. That is the aim.

Oh, you know, if I can get into the office willingly to have a fly shot, I can get into the office to work. That is my thinking about the sneaking about, rightly, or wrongly. The last few years of getting flu shots through work I have pulled off the stealthy in and out.

Of course, the meeting rooms where the flu shots are held are just outside my department’s doors, in fact between my department and the kitchen. Difficult, you might say? I have managed a stealthy like operation every year up until this year. So, I don’t see why this year should be any different.

I do some mental arithmetic to work out my times.

8:20am. I have a shower.

8:47am. I leave for the city.

The sun is shining. It’s a lovely day.

It’s noisy from some big truck digging out a drain, or something, as soon as I get walking.

I’m listening to Allan Alanis Morissette Under Rugged Swept. I’m still not sure that I even like her. I bet you lesbians like her.

I walk to St Vincent’s Plaza.

I catch a pretty 109 at 8:50am.

I’m sweating from that short walk up Brunswick Street, and of course that tram is heated and now I’m sweating as Alanis sings on. In fact, I think I might get off at Spring Street, or 101 Collins Street, just to get some fresh air. I am going to be early, at this rate. I might as well spend the extra time walking rather than hanging around my building. Maybe, I’ll try to get back on an old tram, as they tend to be draftier.

Swanston Street I get off.

If I’ll be too early, I might as well walk and get some exercise.

Boris called, as I cross Elizabeth Street, grrrr! It was noisy as we chatted. We’re having issues with the change over from company based storage to cloud based storage. She eventually said call her back when I can, so I felt I had to tell her I’d be in the office soon, so I’d come and see her when I get there. So much for a stealthy flu shot recognisance. Er? You know what I mean.

9:15am. I’m in the lift.

Some chick gets in after me holding the left up. I feel my fists screw into balls. Oh, I still have lift rage from all the years spend in skyscraper buildings, with idiots and lifts. Good to know.

Three guys get in really late, one holds the door open for someone else, OH MY GOD, my head says, but I can’t complain because of how cute he is. My favourite look, dark hair, bright eyes and smiley and full of confidence. And a very nice beefy toosh in his blue suit pants. I forget about everything as I gaze upon his arse handsome face, true.

Shake of the head as the lift opens on my floor.

I go see Boris, but she’s not in her office.

I head to the flu shot room, 9.20am. I guess it doesn’t matter now if I wait around. I see Boris and The PonyTail coming out of the kitchen. Oh, I always get a slight chill when I see The PonyTail, and now in a good way. She asks me if I’m having a flu shot, not exactly sure why.

I get my flu shot straight away. No one is waiting, like previous years. They say vaccination rates are down, I wonder if I am seeing it first hand? The flu shot giver seems pleased that I am there, as if business has been slow.

“Sign here,” she says.

I see The PonyTail is the previous person to me to get the jab.

Have I had flu shots before.

Yes.

Am I allergic to…

No.

All the usual questions.

Do I prefer either arm.

No.

Then there is a short, sharp prick. Like some unfortunate boys I have known in the past.

I go chat to Boris. Where trying to sort out this new cloud based storage drive. The instructions have been poor, the training no so much better. Everyone seems to be struggling. But, you know, there is one thing Boris is good at, problem solving. She’s tenacious. Me? Not so much, because I just don’t give a shit. Good that one of us is.

She’s really pissed off at Chip Swell yelling at her when she was floundering and asked for help with this file drive change over.

She tells me that not so long ago there were some old historical journal entries which she wanted to sort out, and she asked The Midget for some details on them and The Midget screamed at her too.

She rolled her eyes and said, “You can scream all you like, but after you have stopped screaming, there is still going to be a problem with which I need some help.”

“Are they under stress?”

“Maybe they are, well, Chip Swell was overseeing our departments training and drive change over, and maybe they are not, but it’s just not good enough, being screamed at.”

I got the impression that, maybe, Boris wasn’t going to put up with such treatment going forward.

We looked at Boris’s computer set up, as she has the new drives up and running.

“I should have bought my laptop with me.”

“Oh, well, we’ll get it sorted, we have to now.”

“The deadline was shift from April 30th, I think until May 15th.”

“Oh, was it,” she said. “I didn’t see that email.”

“Yeah, we have a couple of more weeks.”

“Is that why the panic seems to have died down out there,” she said. She indicted to the open plane department beyond her office.

9:40am. I’m walking home. The sun is shining. I’m feeling really relaxed. You know that feeling when you are out in the fresh air on a gorgeous sunny day and you aren’t hurried to do anything beyond just walk in it and enjoy it? You know that feeling? Sauntering along in the sunshine, not a care.

9:44am. I walk to Elizabeth Street and get on a number 11 when it comes along. I should keep walking but with free public transport I am enjoying claiming my home tram stop of Brunswick Street and Gertrude Street off the number 11 tram.

9:56am. I’m at St Vincent Plaza and the sun is shining in the tram windows beautifully.

9:58am. I get off the tram at my tram stop. Lovely, isn’t it, I think. Home again.

I run across Brunswick Street in front of the tram, actually two, one coming from each direction, in the sun.

I buy a muffin at the bakery.

10.05am. I am home.

Boris calls me. We get onto teams. I share my screen. 

“If you just go to the drive teams.”

“Okay.”

“Click on that file.”

“Okay.”

“And that file.”

“Okay.”

“I think you just have to setup a second short cut.”

“There are two shortcuts to be setup?”

“Yes, I know, noting in the training mentions a second short cut.”

“Okay. Done.”

“Now go to your computer drive.”

“Okay.”

“There. Yay!” says Boris. “It’s loading.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“It’s just good to get it sorted.”

“We have a meeting with The Midget about the US office,” I say.

“Oh yes,” says Boris. “I’m not sure what she wants now, really I am not.”

I swapped over files, now that my new cloud based drive worked. Really, just in time for the April 30th deadline, even if it has been extended for two weeks. It's still kind of good that we got it done in the original time frame, don't you think?

I was behind all day. I was behind at the end of the day. It appears that taking a sick day Monday has had an effect. Who'd have thought?

Nyr! So, what? Who cares? I’ll catch up Monday. I’ll worry about it then.

Fuck it.

Sick Day

I took the day off, a real sickie, Boris hoped I would feel better soon.

Oh, it wasn't a complete lie, I have continuing shoulder pain, but not really enough to stop me working.

You know, I have a mountain of sick leave accrued, I think I might take it. What can they do? Nothing.

As soon as Sam left for the office, I headed to the bakery to get a muffin to have with my second cup of coffee. But, being Monday, the bakery was closed. I stood on the corner of my street with disappointment washing over me.

I bought a 1 terabyte hard drive from Fitzroy Officeworks. I wished I'd bought the 2 terabyte version. I wanted to return it, but I lost the receipt. Stupid me, I never lose receipts. So, I had a go at returning it without a receipt, but the fat, blond slag on the counter with poor teeth was having none of it.

"Not without a receipt."

"But, it's not like I want my money back," I said. "I actually want to pay you more money."

"See if you can find a bank statement showing the purchase?"

I, actually, had an idea I paid cash for it? Anyway, I couldn't say anything, I lost the receipt like a doof. I'll just never shop there again. Ha, ha, ha. Chuckle.

I went to the Salvos to see what CDs they had for $1. While I was looking, one of lifes losers turns up pushed in next to me. He came in under my arm there was so little room, and I, according to him, elbowed him in the head. I believed my elbow touched his head. He complained. I had headphones in so, mercifully, I couldn't really hear him. The next thing he was pushing into me on my other side.

"Move over," he said. "I want to look at these disks."

I switched off my music. "Huh?"

"Move over and look at those ones over there, I wanna look at these.'

"I'll be finished looking in a minute, mate."

"Oh, yes, everyone has to work around you, I see."

"What?" He tried to stare me down with his rat face. "I was here first, hang on a minute."

"Oh yes, you always think you are first, probably. I know your kind."

I turned the music up and pretended he wasn't there at all.

He said more, but I couldn't hear him. Then he vanished. His type don't want to look at the produce, they just want a distraction from their miserable lives.

I spent $10 on 10 CDs. BB King, Pete Murray, Alanis Morissette, M People, Cafe del Mar, Neil Diamond Hot August Night, Van Morrison and Diana Krall.

I bought a cinnamon scroll on the way home, from Falco. I made more coffee when I got home. 

I watched two movies, a straight movie Lie With Me, and a gay Acrobat, as I uploaded my new CDs to iTunes.

The two dogs slept at my feet all day.

I wrote my journal.

Sam got home 5pm and we took the woofs for a walk.

The Warming Planet

 

Doodle

This was a doodle I did in my last finance zoom meeting as the others were yap, yap, yaping on. I saw it on my note pad when I went into the office last. I bought it home and finished it and coloured it.

I like doing art work. I don't care if they are good, or bad. They are just fun to do.

Lovely Saturday

Saturday, the loveliest day of the week. The day that has no peers. It is a do-whatever-you-like day, further enhanced by being followed by a do-whatever-you-like day. No other day of the week has that.

I've still got three days off, as I'm taking a sickie on Monday. Monday is one of Sam's rare days that he has to go to his office, so I am taking the day off to look after the woofs.

I'm supposed to be in my office, so it is a good day to take off. Fuck them for making me go back into the office when it is soooooo pointless. It is one of the advantages of working for a company for many years and hardly ever taking a sick day. 

What can they say? Nothing. I'm taking a sick day.

(Still trying to get up the courage to resign)

Sam makes coffee and the aroma of coffee fills the lounge room. That smell always takes me back to mornings in a European city, Amsterdam, Paris, Rome, the fresh food market in Florence, Athens, ah, that evocative smell.

The sun comes out and it is a lovely morning.

So far, we have no plans for today. Sam mentioned something about driving to the country. We'll see.

Nah, we're off for lunch and then to the beach. Fish & chips by the sea anyone?

Two Days Off

Two days off where I did nothing, really fuck all. Collecting beauty art images for my own enjoyment.

I must go back to the gym. I haven't gone since New Year. Ah! How did that happen?

From doing fuck all on my days off, I guess. 

We all talk about time like it is some huge thing, and yet it just slips by so easily. Like water through your fingers. Like walking down a street and when you look, the reflections in the shop windows have suddenly changed. Like a whisper in the wind. Like a blink of an eye.

My copy of Abbey Road arrived, a remastered 2009 copy for $10, cheaper than a monthly subscription, I reckon, so I listened to that non stop. I'm still trying to like The Beatles, because everybody likes The Beatles, and I never have, not really. I guess I am liking them.

Renee Geyer, Renee Geyer

My copy of Renee Geyer's remastered first album, with 6 extra tracks arrived. So, I listened to that all day, as I lay on the couch doing nothing else.

Why do I still buy CDs? (and buy tracks from iTunes) I hear you ask? Well, I'm just not buying into the monthly subscription model. Tied up forever paying money to someone? No. I find the infinite choice mind boggling, anyway. And if I really want to listen to a new track, I can listen to the free Spotify, I just mute the ads. And in the end, if I cancel my subscription, which I have done, I still have my music collection.

We have got rid of all our pay TV channels too. Yeah, sure there are some shows we want to watch - more often than not, Sam finds a free trial deal anyway for specific shows - but mostly we found we were just watching shows that we, probably, wouldn't otherwise watch.

Wednesday, Mid Week

I didn't win lotto. You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it.

Actually, I won $5 less than the ticket cost me. Good job. 👍

Warren Buffett wouldn't approve.

Wednesday, though. Hump Day. Funny how people hate Wednesdays, and yet I find them utterly delightful. They make up derogatory names for Wednesday. Woe Day. Slow Day. Bad Day. Wednesday's Child. Always a struggle day. Computer Problems day, oh, well, maybe that was just today.

But, when Wednesday is your new Friday, you can't help but have a soft spot for them.

Ug! Who can work 5 days. When I work full time for Boris, when she is making her annual pilgrimage to the motherland, I find my weeks interminable. Never ending. You meet yourself coming back on Monday from Friday.

I worked all day, started early, naturally. It was uneventful. Well, I ask you, whatever happens on a Wednesday? People left me alone. Boris and I got on and did our thing. We did what we do best, worked together, a team of two. We sorted everything out, Boris and I. And I finished early, of course, actually 4pm, so not as early as I'd like.

Then I did one of my favourite things and collected mid 20th Century modernist photography & art. You know, because art is joy. It gives you so much. An understanding of the world. An understanding of yourself.

Apparently, the Winston Churchill quote about when he was asked to cut funding to the arts in order to support the war effort in World War II, he responded, “Then what would we be fighting for?” from all accounts isn't something he said, but it doesn't make it any less true.

And a lovely time was had. Chuckle.

I had indigestion all day, I'm not sure why.

Working From Home Tuesday

I worked from home. Tuesday work from home. 

I was going to quit my job if they made me go back into the office, even for one day a week, but there I am trapsing into the office every Monday morning like a good corporate puppy? What happened with that?

I guess, it is fear, you know like everything else in life we do that we don't really want to do. Fear of not working. Fear of not getting through. Fear of not having enough. Fear of not having any measure. What would the world be like if we all weren't fearful?

So, I was up early with a coffee signing into work early this morning.

I felt like a bit of a fraud for not quitting in protest at being made to attend the office again. Gutless, I thought as I stared reading my first emails. But then, you know, as they say, life/work happened, and the morning floated away.

Charlie sauntered out at midday in his Long Johns and a t-shirt he looked like he'd had for too long, and I thought wouldn't it be nice to be 22 and still have an arse like that. But then, he's got to do it all yet, and as much as I'd love to go back to 22 and do it all again, I'm at least glad that I have made my way in the corporate world – oh, apart from wishing I'd never made it in the corporate world at all – and at least have some sort of earned status, such as it is, behind me.You know, I guess that is something. I, at least, have a choice and the ability to chuck it all in, fear withstanding, Charlie doesn't, not yet, he hasn't earned that.

Sam cooked me lunch. Sam always cooks me lunch. That's pretty good huh?

I signed out at 3pm and had a nap on the couch for an hour and half before we took the dogs for a walk.

I bought a lotto ticket.

Mondy In The Office

The team meeting that was concocted to get me into the office on Mondays with Boris and The Midget ended up with the three of us barely having anything to talk about.

Yeah, good one girls. There is a choice bit of corporate fuckery right there.

Then I, essentially, spent the rest of my time in my office working on my own.

So, what was the fucken point of me going in, I ask?

It's just mean pissy behaviour for no good reason.

It's the corporate Borg brain, where none of them think for themselves.

Having Friends Over

We had old friends over. Adriana, Loli, Mark, Luke, Young Jay and his girlfriend, Sam and me. Old time friends, who we've known for years. It was great to get together. It’s been awhile. You know, life gets in the way and all that.

Loli looked great, but weirdly she didn’t like people telling her. I’m not exactly sure why? We all have our hang ups, I guess. She did look great.

We drank quite a bit. Loli and Adriana can certainly put it away. We laughed. We told stories. I smoked all Adriana's cigarettes, bad me.

The more Loli drank, the more she criticised my house keeping skills. That’s okay, I’m just kind of glad I’m not anal about things, like she is. 😬

“I know where everything is this way”

“Oh, Christian.”

Loli’s house is like a display home.

Adriana is still trying to get her (once) abusive boyfriend of 20 something years out of their house, so they can sell it and she can finally move on completly.

Everyone got into Mark & Luke to move back to Victoria from Northern Rivers. Mark says he just loves the Northern Rivers climate, but Luke seems keen to move back.

Brun humped Jay’s girlfriend’s leg.

I apologised. She said she didn’t care as she loves dogs. Then she looked at Jay and said, “He’s just like you.”

She’s nice Jay’s girlfriend, despite all the face furniture.

We went out and ate Japanese for dinner.

We started in the afternoon, so everyone had left by 10pm.

Office tomorrow, sad face.

Free Us All From Hate

 

All I see is Middle Eastern hatred being turned into an export product shipped around the world.

Feet up, Looking At Art

Young Greek guy coming home from the bars Sunday morning and eating yogurt

I've sat on my arse for two days and saved all the art images. On the couch invariably with a bulldog curled up next to me on both sides. It's been glorious. I've discovered a few new artists, and I have found new work from some old favourites. So relaxing, some may say, so lazy, but no, it's been fun.

The sun has shone. The days have been warm. Just how we like them.

Beautiful images flooding my eyes and my mind. All that creativity to inspire me. It's been a lovely way to spend a few days. All that beauty.

Some many interesting ideas. So much cleverness. Lost in it all.

Thursday Art Day

I saved art images all day. Modern art, I only like modern art. I only find modern art interesting.

Some days I discover a page online that has all sorts of interesting art, so I save all the images I like. I can get quite lost in it all, especially modern art.

I don't use it for anything, I just keep it for my own enjoyment. I try not to use other people's work for the most part.

Mark and Luke dropped in on their way to Gippsland to for of all stay with Mark's sister, then to go onto to one of Luke's 10 brother's weddings. I forget their names. Paul, Tommy, Daniel, Sean, Adam, Christopher, Marcus, Dean, Cameron and Luke. The brother, I think it is Sean, and his girlfriend from what I understand have been together for years but have no decided to get married.

You'd think with 10 boys there might be more than one gay brother, (what is it, 1 in 3?) well, apparently, it might be Paul who also likes to play hide the sausage with other fellas.

Mark and Luke arrived in the reddest hire car I think I have ever seen.

I made them a banana cake for their visit.

It was a nice day, which is always good for whiney NSW people who complain about the cold.

After they left I got back to saving more art.

I collect and old favourite George Platt Lynes, then a new guys Robsert Bliss, Pavel Tchelitchew, Avel De Knight plus, Andy Warhol, and Cecil Beaton and others. 

20th century modern is my aesthetic. I love its grittiness.

Admittedly, not too many images of chicks. There are a few hard-arsed lesbian images, that I can find interesting. But not many. 

They are just missing all the bits that make a nude fascinating.

Hump Day Wednesday

Wednesday, end of my week. I put in what I had to do. I did my hours, staring early, of course. Not sure what else I can say? It was a Wednesday. A standard issue Wednesday. The best thing about Wednesdays is when they are over.

I had a whole lot of shit I had to do, and I got it done.

Yay, me.

Tuesday At Home

Today, I'm back working from home, yay.

I start early and by lunch I have everything done.

I go out a prune the creeper on the side wall, something I've been meaning to do for however long. The green waste collection comes in the morning. It's nice. I have music in my ears. I get right up the ladder, my fear of heights withstanding.

Then I come back in and catch up my blog.

Gotta love working from home.

Otto hung out with me all day. Brun hung out with Sam upstairs all day.

3pm. I've finished for the day.

I go lie on the couch. I push Milo off. Poor cat, at the bottom of the pecking order. Otto comes and lies on the couch with me as though he is rubbing it into to Milo.

I slept for 2 hours. Lovely.

Sam is really busy at work lately, so he doesn't disturb me until 5pm.

Monday Blues

(I wasn't going to use my journal, but fuck it, I haven't written anything else)

5am. I was up. I have to go into the office. Fuck the world! I’m not really sure what the company gets out of me trapsing into the office?

I get dressed in the dark, into my dark blue office outfit. I kind of like the all dark blue look rather than all black. The all dark blue has a bit more life in it.

It’s cold. Summer is over.

I look at YouTube while I eat my Vegemite toast. One of the YouTubers says the new Stones track is up on a message board, link below. So, I play it. Finally. Yeah, nice. I like it.

I faff about, getting all my shit together.

6:09am. I leave the house. It is still dark.

I’m listening to my Rolling Stones Mixed Tape as I walk up the street in the dark.

An 86 tram comes along just as I get to the first tram stop, so I hop on

There’s a tradie on the tram with a yellow hiviz Hoodie pulled up over his head, he’s teamed that with small, tight, blue shorts. He has great legs. Is that how we like the handsome ones? Head covered, no pants? Maybe? 

“Hey?”

What?

“That is the waistband of my shorts.”

I thought you had your hoodie over your head.

“I can still feel your hand on the buttons to my shorts.”

Oh, come on, stop struggling, let me look at you.

“Hey… stop…” 

This isn’t gonna hurt, well, not permanently. Come on boy, show us yours… Let’s see how big you can make it. 

“Oh! Why are there handcuffs on my wrists?”

Well.

“You’re holding it real tight. Who just blindfold me?”

That’s the way, you’re getting the idea.

“You are really squeezing it.”

Keep swelling it up, come on keep swelling up, let’s see you make it nice and hard.

“Oh god, I never thought another man’s hand…”

See, I thought you could impress us, a strapping guy like you. 

“Oh fuck, that feels good.”

Come on boy, we all wanna have a go.

“Where did the other guys come from?”

Honey for the bees.

“I don’t know? I don’t know? Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhh.”

Your knees are shaking. You’re breathing heavily, suddenly.

“I’ve only ever been with one girl.”

Well, that’s the last time you can say that.

I shake my head and come back to the real world. The shops flash by in the dark.

I get off on the corner in the dark.

There is no tram cnr Brunswick Street so I get walking.

It’s dark.

6:18am. I’m at St Vincent’s Plaza. There are a couple of people waiting on the platform, all looking at their phones in the dark. The light from their screens casts an eery reflection 

6:21am. A pretty 109 comes along.

There is a Cute Asian boy all in black, good shorts, nice legs, I go sit opposite him. He gets off at 101 Collins. 

A skinny dark haired boy in a full matching cream and pale green track suit gets on and takes the Asian boy’s seat opposite. Not much of a bulge. He doesn’t look up from his phone. He looks like the type who would have mental health issues.

I look out the window.

6:28am. We’re at Elizabeth Street all of a sudden.

6:29am. Tradie standing at the open door to his parked Ute, halfway to William Street. He’s in small, dark blue shorts, and an orange top. He slides his hand down the back of his shorts to scratch his arse, as the tram passes by, probably showing the world more of his arse than he really intended. Nice arse though. Thata boy.

Two chicks and a gay guy bang the side of the tram and whoop at the sight of his bare cheeks.

6:30am. We’re at William Street.

An athletic type gets off ahead of us, track suit material pale grey shorts, fleecy hoodie, he wafts the smell of Dencorub behind him.

6:33am. I’m in the lift.

I make coffee. I grab the old bananas from last week for a banana cake.

7:11am. Big Ange comes in.

I start listening to Hackney Diamonds.

I go have a big shit, before getting a second coffee.

I see IT muscles Attaboy in the kitchen, still with his stupid hipster beard. I want to tell him he has missed that look by nearly 10 years. I want to tell him to shave it off. I nearly have a couple of times, but of course you can’t

7:46am. The old, fat finance chick is in next. She seems nice, she always says good morning. She’s 10 years younger than me, but looks 10 years older. She also lives in the outer suburbs.

7:50am. The Big Poo is in, surprisingly down beat for him, he’s usually go go go even in the morning.

8:02am. My cute, old school mate, David Baum, service boy lookalike, who I have an arse licking date with in my dreams someday, arrives. Panties around his knees, down on all fours.

“Morning,” I say. That image is in my head.

He smiles. “Good morning.”

8:15am. Jason Jones is in.

8:53am. Tall, blokey, Miss Cliché, who sits outside my office, is in. I can’t decide if she is a lesbian, a bogan, or a bogan lesbian?

8:55am. The Midget and Nam arrive together? That’s an odd pairing. What do you reckon? Nam is fucking The Midget? Nyr. Doesn’t bare thinking about.

9:15am. Boris is in.

9:20am. Some plain blonde chick comes and yaps on to the blokey bogan lesbian chick.

Blokey bogan lesbian chick chats to David, as soon as she is done yapping on to the plain blonde chick.

10am. the get-Christian-into-the-office meeting starts. Me, Boris, and The Midget.

10:15am. Meeting over. Now the bogan lesbian is yapping on to some delivery guy. Is there anyone this bitch won’t yabber on to?

Greek Easter, Greek Easter, Greek Easter. Jesus does she ever shut up? The next time I head to the kitchen for a coffee I slide my office door shut when I return. Then I get the optics but none of the whitter. Better.

I could throw my weight around and get her moved. Oh, laugh. I don’t have any weight to throw around.

I listen the Black & Blue, the new tracks. Headphones are great. I turn it up. My office door closed, no one disturbs me.

Midday I have my lunch bought from home. Sam packed it for me.

2pm. It’s the finance meeting. Oh god – used ironically – the longer they all yap on I lose the will to live just a little. Jesus some of them love the sound of their own voices.

3pm. I leave the office.

I run across William Street where there is a huge black Ute waiting for the pedestrians. He makes a point of accelerating hard as I approach, clearly deluded about the green and red pedestrian man. Ignorant arsewipe. It’s frightening how many drivers think the pedestrian crossing men have anything to do with them.

3:04pm. I’m running for a tram which I miss, and as I miss it, I realise it was a 48. I can’t catch a 48. Grrr!

I catch the 11 all the way to Brunswick Street & Gertrude Street cnr. Free public transport for April. This would be my stop if they made public transport free. I wonder if making public transport free would be the cheapest climate change initiative a govt could do?

3.30pm. I’m home.

Otto is over excited to see me. Brun tries to be excited around bouncing Otto.

4:14pm. We take the Bulldogs for a walk. It looks like it’s about to rain, black clouds overhead.

We do a big circle of the suburb ending back on Smith Street.

5:01pm. Brun, Otto and I are waiting outside while Sam shops in Coles for something for dinner.

5:05 pm. A Malamute comes past and of course boof head carries on. The Malamute seems to want to make an issue of it too, but his owner pulls him away.

Sam reappears at 5:08pm.

5:17pm. We home

We ate chicken and fishcakes and greens and rice for dinner.

We watched 4Corners on how bad social media is for society. Oh, no kidding. It was why I stopped going on Facebook, more often that not it was just abuse it was offering, and I decided that I just didn’t need it.

Oh, you know, sometimes it is fun to troll the stupid people, but it wears thin pretty quickly.

We watched Media Watch. They do a really long expose on Aussie Gold Hunters not really sure why. It seemed out of character for Media Watch

10.15pm. Sam and Brun went to bed.

I stayed up trying to write a blog post, but nothing is coming.

11.45pm. Otto and I went to bed.

Afternoon Nap

Any day, where you get to sleep for a couple of hours on the couch in the afternoon, is a good day. Good day.

Ha ha, what am I like?

It's just nice lying here.

We went out for lunch, so my stomach was full. Nice.

I'm just a lazy cow at heart. True.

Blur Saturday

It's got cold these last few days, summer has gone. Back to jeans, which always feels strange after a summer of shorts. It rained for most of the day, that slow, set in drizzle type of rain. We got out in a window period when the rain stopped. We bought Pad Thai.

It was a blur kind of day. You know, not every day can be a great day.

We did go to the Italian cake shop and get jam shortbreads though, so in that sense, it was a very good day.

I stayed up to hear the new Rolling Stones track released today, but that was unsuccessful.

But, you know, it was that kind of day, I guess.

Do you ever wonder what’s going to happen in the end? You know, what’s going to happen to you at the end of your life? What kind of disease, problem, you are going to get? What words the doctor is going to use to tell you, you know, the jig, that is your life, is up? What words are you going to hear?

Oh, I don’t know, maybe it is just that kind of day?

Getting frustrated with not finding The Rolling Stones new song, my mind starts to wander as I sit up late, getting nowhere.

It’s escape. You know, the pressure valve letting off steam. 

I’m now picturing the top of my head as a funnel…

Maybe, I should just go to bed?

You Know, We Could Have A Clean Energy City

I think we have found a way to fight climate change from the bloated orange compulsive liar shooting himself in the foot recently. As with making cigarettes more expensive led to a decrease in smoking, apparently, the increased cost of fuel has seen a drop in the traffic on Melbourne & Sydney roads. Perhaps, that is good for the planet.

What do you think?

Brutal? Maybe so.

If what the scientists say is coming, comes, it is going to be far more brutal. And quite possibly sooner than later.

A few years ago, the scientists said if we simply planted trees on all the available public land on the planet, the scientists even told us where the land was on which we could do that, we could delay the effects of climate change by a decade, or so, but we didn't do that.

Conservative forces are arguing against a change to renewable energy, electric cars and the like. The conservative forces are even arguing against Melbourne building the suburban rail line when we need clean energy, non-petrol cars and public transport. I find this just plain odd. (I'm guessing the fossil fuel industry financing of conservatives is strong)

So, maybe we should give making fossil fuels more expensive a go to encourage people not to use them, as recent events seem to indicate that works.

If more people are encouraged to use public transport, we will get better public transport, it follows logically, supply & demand, and we will all win if that happens.

Windy Sunny Thursday

8.15am. I just took Otto out for his morning wee, to discover it is a glorious morning, really lovely. Brun and Otto are always the last out of bed. Maybe, we are still in for some good weather before winter descends.

Pretty soon after that the wind really started to blow, even if the sun was still shining. I wondered if that was an allegory of the Australian economy, at present? That kind of made me laugh, economic jokes at this time of the morning. Sheesh.

I thought about what a knob Conservative leader Angus Tayolor is. Even his good looks are fading as fast as his credibility. I thought about Ultra (irrelevant) Conservative leader Matt Canavan’s 1950’s throw back, hardly even concealed these days fossil fuel loving, economic plan, which would, essentially, have us all paying more for everything. 

I wondered why people were voting for conservative parties – the orange bag of shit in the US, the lizard in the UK, a handful of South American countries, the whining, got-no-credible-answers, ranga from up north – I can’t work it out. Parties that really have no answers, just grievances. It is just baffling. I shook my head

The anti-intellectual messaging by the conservative parties has clearly been effective. 

It is a good thing the Labor Party won so many seats in the least election against our very own happy-clapper, evangelical PM, that it is probably almost impossible for them to lose the next election.

I exhaled and thought about that last piece of information and felt comforted by it. 

I puffed my pillow, and pull the blanket up over me, on the couch I am sharing with Otto and I listen to the Beatles, Magical Mystery Tour. I was never a fan, but I am coming around slowly.

I watch YouTube.

The sun is continuing to shine through the wind.

I might head down the shops, I haven’t done that for weeks.

Nyr? Whatever.

 

An HR Meeting To Finish Off The Week

A late meeting with HR, called by The Midget, over a stuff up over a lawyer working OS, after which my weekend started.

Boris and I wondered what it had to do with us – we were familiar with the issue at hand, as we had been asked to do a few calculations by the poor overworked HR administrator, Cinnamon Wang – but we attended none the less.

The Giant PonyTail attended the meeting – she must be attempting a whitewash of her corporate image – and she consistently tried to lay blame on everyone but HR, but I wasn't having it, no I wasn't. I have to give it to her, she was relentless in a subtle way. A one-eyed, Teflon coated, not-my-fault, never-my-fault, Dalek moving through the corporate world seeking to Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! anyone who goes against that mantra. I kept it up to her, though, subtly bringing it back to the problem was HRs.

Boris opened her gob and gave them an out, oh something about our recent change to cloud-based applications had caused numerous issues, and The Giant PonyTail latched onto that quick as a flash, so much so it looked kind of desperate. Oh Boris, I thought. To paraphrase Amanda Priestly, that was the biggest disappointment of the meeting. Suddenly, I thought, is Boris a fixer, does she have a touch of The Hero Complex about her? It would explain a lot.

Then The Giant PonyTail tried to wrap the meeting up in her favour, with her pinched face, and her hair pulled back so severely I wouldn't have been surprised at the appearance of a beard, but I was ready when she finished, and I clearly re-stated the issue as one of HR's making. She exhaled loudly, but said nothing more.

Then my weekend started and I forgot all about it. I took the dogs for a walk and sucked in fresh air and cleared my mind.

My week was over and my weekend was about to begin, and as Taylor Swift would say, I shook it off.

Back To Work

The day off disappeared quickly, like days off do, well lubricated by the rain, no doubt.

There was a window of sunshine in the afternoon when we took the woofs for their walk.

The rain returned almost as soon as we were back home. An Easter miracle, perhaps.

And that was that, the yearly chocolate festival was over again for another year, without me eating one egg.

And here I am back at my work desk again licking the salt from the salt mine walls like every good worker is expected to do.

Daylight Savings has finished for the year so any moment we are to be plunged into winter darkness, something to look forward to hey, to cheer us up back at the mine.

And that fat orange idiot, lets see if he plunges us into a perpetual dark winter. Ah, I guess we have to look on the bright side, what else do we have, the fat orange one will go to jail, or die. I want him to go to jail, to be humiliated, you know, if I cared that much, and the world order will be returned to its normal haves & have nots, with climate change threatening everyone's existence.

Those were my cheery thoughts this morning, as my work computer whirred into life, sipping on my first coffee for the day, as it just became light outside.