dog sniffing

Sniffing Around at the Last Minute

All over for another year. Tick off 05 into history. All done, never to return. (blink and it will be 2105) I hardly get to mourn the loss and I have to be back at work… by the 04th, boo-hoo!

I decided that I wanted to go out and take drugs and dance for the night, without a care, swan song for the year passed. Swim on the breeze, groove mindlessly on the beat. Float - boom chicka, boom chicka. Sunrise.

I asked Tim if he could get me drugs. I knew it was too late, when I asked, but you never really know, if you don't ask. I hate people who ask at the last minute, so normally I wouldn't. But, what if Tim said that they only went in the afternoon to pick them up. What if he said he was just on his way? He could only say no too.

SMS. 9.51. (Tom) How are you miss? – Christian

SMS. 09.58. (Tim) I guess, you’ve already got stuff for tonight? – Christian

SMS. 10.09. We have… what did u need? – Tim

SMS. 10.15. I thought u probably would have… I just thought on the off chance if u hadn’t – Christian

SMS. 10.16. But… what were you after – Tim

SMS. 10.19. 3 e's – Christian

SMS. 10.20. What time will you be back? Will see if we can arrange it, but will need some money – Tim

SMS. 10.22 In an hour? – Christian

I can be any where in an hour, if party tricks are to be picked up.

SMS. 10.22. Ok will ask – Tim

SMS. 10.32. How hot is it down there? – Christian

SMS. 10.32. I haven’t left the house. Not game to – Tim

I drove down sometime around 11am. I decided that if I was going to do it, I should just get going. Leave... and hope.

I had just driven up to the roller door. I had, literally, just pushed the roller door button.

SMS. 11.35. Sorry can’t get on to anyone… think it might be a bit late – Tim

Ah! I just wanted to close the roller door again and drive back to Bolago before anyone saw me. What am I doing here without drugs? Bugger!

SMS. 11.47. Hi there, I am doing okay. How are you? – Tom

SMS. 11.52. Good. I could go to RawHide, if we’re not going to the Laird? – Christian

Sometime later… I broke my own rule and called Guido at the last minute.

“Yellow.”

“Guido?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s Christian.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I was wondering…”

“Of course you were fucken wondering, it is New years Eve. Go on shock me.”

“For tonight?

“You know there aren’t too many people I fucken like, your lucky I like you. You are going to have to blow me one of these days.

“I’m not blowing you.”

“Fucken ingrate.”

“So, how will…”

“I’ll be there soon,keep your butt plug in.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

“Well, you’re not coming out to Boganville are you, besides, I’ve got a new E55 I can’t get enough of driving, so you are lucky. And I have deliveries.”

“Thanks Guido, you are the best.”

“Blow me.”

“Ha ha.”

“You still live in the same shithole?”

“Yes.”

“Later.” He ended the call.

Sometime near midnight.

Guido pulled up out the front.

“Here.” He handed me a large envelope.

“Thanks, how much?”

“Fuck off. Later.”

“Okay, thanks…”

“Get out, I’ve got other punters to see.”

The big Mercedes took of down my street at a great rate.

Pills got, tickets sorted, ready to go… and it is a million degrees down here, I think I’m going to die. Even dying my hair and having a shower hasn’t helped much. I feel like if I took drugs and danced in a confined club, I’d stop breathing.

Oo baby, it’s hot.

Then I got to thinking about being in Prahran for New Year's Eve… and the possibility of not being able to get home... when I wanted to, when I so chose. Taxi’s New Years Day?

I think I just want to take drugs and dance at The Peel. Close to home. All that return trip nonsense out of the way. I wanted to do the same thing, no matter where I was. Close my eyes and listen to the tunes.

I think I really want to go back to Bolago, where it will be gorgeous tonight.

And then I realised how awful I’d been, after Tom cancelled I just naturally went into drugs/dance mode, but Manny was coming to the Laird too. I just forgot about him. I guess, it’s, subconsciously, that I know he wouldn’t take drugs and go out dancing.

I just called him. Surely, he isn’t at the gym, it’s 40 degrees.

I close my eyes and stop for a minute.

Just lying on my floating bed with Manny, listening to the cool, sounds of the forest... is, suddenly what I'd like to be doing. I hold that thought, wonder why I didn't follow that idea? A boy’s entitled to change his mind, isn’t he? I try to convince myself.

Shake head. Open mouth, exhale and make ugly noise with my cheeks. Ah!

Just take the drugs, the club will be air-conditioned, dance till 7am, catch a tram, if you have to. Manny is, probably, not likely to even show up, you know what he is like. You’ll, probably, get a taxi in the morning, wherever you are. You normally have taxi-hailing charm.

Oh, I don’t know what I want to do.

I'll send an email to Josh.

Nicholas went to Raw Hide

SMS. 20.10. Love you all, thanks 4 a great 05. Have a great night, see you in 2006 x – Leah and Stu

SMS. 20.25. B4 the sun sets on 2005, before the memories fade, B4 I get drunk and lose my phone may we wish you a happy & prosperous New Year – Tim

Tim and I went to the Peel, you know, like buddies do. Mates.

SMS. 23.18. May the New Year bring joy and delight darlings xxoo – He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned.

night time drive

The Calm Before the Storm

SMS. 8.27. Not much happening in Melbourne anyway – Tom

SMS. 9.21. Lying on my bed reading. Life’s hard – Christian

SMS. 9.35 Yes thanks love! How about you? – Leah

SMS. 9.45. Big. Lots of family. Cooked for 30. And now it’s too damn hot! But it’s cooler in the country than the city – Christian

SMS. 9.52. So where r u? – Leah

SMS. 9.48. They are worried my transplant is failing – Tom

SMS. 10.23 Bolago… and it’s lovely – Christian

SMS. 10.24 (Tom) Fuck! – Christian

SMS. 10.24. They always say the worst thing first. We will see xxx – Tom

I called Tom, he was in the Alfred waiting room. He doesn’t know what’s going on. It is wait and see time, I guess.

SMS. 10.35. Might come down next weekend 2 c Wilma-Joan. R u around? – Leah

SMS. 10.45. Got a wedding next weekend – Christian

It’s hot. Too hot to lie on my island and read my book, even. My phone was out of space for new messages. Marina (Con and Lila) and Elaine (Marina’s sister) were out the front, in the garden, chatting to Luke, as I cursed, as I realised the message space problem. I had to fess up - to storing all of my sms' in my journal. But, as it turned out, Marina keeps a journal and does something similar, to me, recording her sms’ in her journal. Perhaps, I’m not completely alone in my madness, after all. It is comforting.

I retreated, in doors. Besides, it was coolest behind the computer in the office.

Con was the first Asian boy I really turned on to. (That's not entirely true, I had had sex with Asian boys at sex clubs) He's buff and he's strapping and he was the first Asian boy I really lusted after what-was-down-his-pants. You know, dirty, sweaty.... Just by the by...

SMS. 14.19. (He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned) Happy fucken Xmas – Christian

SMS. 14.24. (Shane) Did this good girl wish that bad girl happy Xmas? How remiss! I hope you and bad girl Mark W. survived it – Christian

I read Dead Europe on my bed for the afternoon, sweating to a nice, shiny sheen, until I had to strip my T-shirt off and chase a breeze. The garden was beautiful, in the evening. At the end of a long summer’s day, when the sun had gone down, feel the residual glow. Luke and I help Mark do some pruning and some plant removal.

I watched TV until late, the death of Marlyn Monroe until 1am, after Mark and Luke went to bed.

Then I got inspired and wrote some of my script until 3am, at which time it was still a warm summer’s night.

beach boy

It's Nice Lying Here

It was a gorgeous afternoon, the sun lay across the lawn beyond my window. I decided that I want a bed with windows around two sides; just glass as a bed head, just glass up against me as the day turns to night. So I can lay on my stomach and just gaze, unhindered, at the world all around. 180 degree view. Garden stretching away, as far as I can see.

I switched on my phone, it had been off for a day. Oops!

SMS. 16.02. Hey Christian, you want to go out for a drink tonight? Will be back in two hours – Tim

I had two messages from Nick. Ring me, ring me. Urgent!

SMS. 17.54. What? You’ve decided you’re gay? – Christian

I spoke to Nick. He’s good, coming out of his self-induced seclusion. It’s his New Year’s resolution. We spoke briefly about Silvia R.

Have I mentioned that Nick and Silvia Romero were seeing each other, quietly, for a time. Silvia was the first girl since Nick's post divorce seclusion. But I digress...

I said that Silvia had said nice things about him. But, when he asked me what, the only thing I could think of was that she had said that Nick had the most perfectly shaped penis. It just didn’t seem the thing to say, at that moment and really, I had nothing else. I must tell him that straight girls and gay boys do girl-talk… and about him. That’ll rattle him.

Of course, he wanted Guido’s phone number.

SMS. 18.05. (N) 040x 1xx 2xx – Christian

I spoke to Manny who told me that it was 37 degrees in Melbourne today, 36 yesterday, 38 Friday and 39 Saturday, ooo! There go my plans for going home tomorrow, I suspected. 23 Sunday… maybe I’ll go home Sunday.

SMS. 21.02. I’m @ Bolago in the, apparent, cool. How was the isle? – Christian

SMS. 21.03. Fantastic… I’m as red as a choir boy’s moisty… ps two messages from Manny. He wants to know where u r and your mobile no? – Tim

SMS. 21.29. I just spoke to him. Gave him my mobile no for the umpteenth time. Must come down and smack his arse. Prob see you tomorrow – Christian

SMS. 21.30. Ok. C U then. May come out with u New Years… I don’t want to go to Raw Hide, not my scene x – Tim

I tried calling Tom, but he wasn’t answering. I haven’t spoken to him for a week, despite him leaving a message, bad Christian.

SMS. 21.46. (Tom) Miss? – Christian

I lay in the cottage and smoked pot and lay on my bed with only one candle burning. Michael Jackson (Off the Wall) and then Roberta Flack lulled me to a relaxed place. I so wanted to gaze at the sky and the stars outside, but it was too dark.

SMS. 22.01. (Tom) Been writing script. Lovely and cool here. Was coming home tomorrow, but now Manny has told me the temps in Melbourne, maybe I’ll come home Saturday. I’ll see. Haven’t decided. Did want to come home tomorrow, but being a petal with no aircon, scared I might melt – Christian

Note to self, get your fucking aircon regassed!

SMS, 22.06. (Shelly) Did you hang tinsel on it? I did. 10 metres – Christian

SMS. 22.12. (Rachel) So that’s it then? – Christian

SMS. 22.14. (Leah) Did you have yourself a merry little Xmas? – Christian

SMS. 22.52. All over bar the shouting – Rachel

SMS. 22.57. To next year, then – Christian

SMS. 22.57. Off 2 Adelaide 2morrow but Fabio limped home with a hole in his side, guts protruding, so now we sit & wait 4 operation result – Rachel

SMS. 23.04. I’m lying in the cottage with one candle burning listening to Roberta Flack. Very chilled. Good luck with the cat – Christian

I sms’d Rachel, Leah, Shelly, but not Jill. Don’t know why?

SMS. 23.12. (Jill) Are you melting yet? – Christian

Because she never answers… that’s why. I can hear Josh Gale saying, Turn it up, luv. Or put a new battery in it. You... you do it. Jill explained why she doesn’t answer her calls, because her new blackberry/gizmo phone has such a soft ring that unless she has it by her ear, she can’t hear it. She's tired everything to find the volume control, to no avail. Techno Jill.

(Ed note – Jill tossed her fully loaded, super blackberry out of the car window in Kingsway, watching cars pulverise it to nothing, after she missed yet another call regarding work contracts, because of its, apparently non-adjustable, soft ring tone. She’s back, happily, using her old Nokia) 

Is it only Wednesday? Yes, Wednesday? It is Wednesday, isn’t it? Yes it is, Wednesday. Wednesday, it is. Only Wednesday. Wednesday, all day. How lovely.

The sky is blue, the sun is shinning brightly and the garden shimmies, in all its glory, fair sparkling in the hot summer sun. Colours to the sky.

And it's only Wednesday. Did you know? Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday. Only Wednesday. It's only Wednesday. How about that? Wednesday. Just turned. Middle of the week. That's all it is. Wednesday.

sausage in the sun

Drift

I want the days to drift. I was glad that I drove up here, last night. I could have spent these next days at home, on my own. I was feeling alone, already, as the day shifted yesterday afternoon. The first day? My tiny piece of earth, in view from the couch. Somehow it felt nothing but depressing, strangely. It never really felt that way, usually. Perhaps, it is the time of year; families and togetherness seeps into your psyche, almost unnoticed. Maybe? Who knows?

The country is so much nicer, in the heat. It is good honest heat, like a long, hot summer’s day should be…and at night, it is cool. It’s not repressed, contained, bitter heat, like the city.

Boxing Day

You know, Mark’s mum, Margaret, has treated me different for quite some time... since Luke became Mark’s boyfriend. She never, now, kisses me hello or goodbye, although she does with Luke. She seems kinda uneasy around me now, seemingly never sure if I get her love, or not. I don’t think she would have kissed me hello, or good bye, Xmas day, if I hadn’t planted one on her, as they left.

It’s made me uncomfortable for quite some time. But then I thought, we are asking her to accept Mark having another boyfriend, while he still has me. Gay guys don't really get it, and I'm expecting a seventy-something woman to be cool with it.

It’s not that dissimilar to how (fat) Debbie, Mark’s bot-off-whoever-she-can-sponge-off cousin, treats me, although (fat) Debbie is more pointed about it. She made the fatal mistake of giving me orders like you would with the staff. When she got it, realised what she was doing, from my reaction, she just continued to treat me the same way. At which point, I took issue. We haven't, exactly, had the same relationship as we did before, since.

I think (fat) Deb has issues with me being at Bolago, getting waited on hand and foot, I think was the impression, where Maggie is just shedding brain cells. Poor luv.

Maggie said quietly to Mark, We’re not taking Lottie home, are we dear?

No, Christian is, said Mark.

Oh that’s good, dear. I don’t think Rich (Mark’s notoriously grumpy father) could have stood to listen to the story of her husband dying all the way home. (I'm wondering, just lately, if Maggie is cunningly using Rich, as the excuse, to get out of things she doesn't, actually, want to do?) There’s a grand Methodist attitude for you… and it’s Xmas. God luv 'em!

I’m sorry, but I just don’t think Maggie… Marg… whatever her name is… is the nice one, she is cracked up to be. Perhaps, it’s not Rich, after all, from who the three kids got their selfish streak.

Do you think... do I think, that Marg demonises Rich to further her own sainthood? It is an interesting theory?

I drove mum back to Melbourne.

SMS. 15.32. (Nick) Happy Xmas big boy – Christian

Me, Mark, Luke, Jeff, Raymond, David and Nick Timms went to see The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe… and apparently it was half funded by the American Christian Right.

The beautiful Sebastian couldn’t have helped but notice me staring at the bulge in his pants, afterwards at Jeff and Raymond’s, when we were all sitting around talking. As we all departed, he was keen to get my number so he could come and stay for a few days. You know, that sparked off untold fantasies in my head. Sebastian's motive is only to save money, of course.

I fell down the back stairs, after coming home from buying papers for another joint. My be-sandaled feet became twisted in the hose across the stairs and splat, down I went on the ground. Face down, flat out. Like a pedestrian felled by a car. Caesar with all of those knives in his back. Britney Spears home from a night out. Mr MacGoo searching for a contact lens. Hugh Jackman waiting for John Travolta to stick it in his arse. Take your positions for the final moment of the Xmas weekend, Ladies and Gentlemen.

I laughed. This is what it's come to? This is always how it always finishes, more often than not. The crazy paving smelt salty. I licked it to prove that it was. Spit! It was.

I got my act together and drove back to Bolago.

SMS. 23.26. Its good girls who keep diaries… The bad girls never have time – Shane

SMS. 23.53. I never kept one in the nineties... when I became a bad girl – Christian

 

The Xmas Angel

Show us your Xmas sack, Xmas Angel

So This is Xmas

SMS. 00.16. Merry Xmas BB! Luv u – Shelly

SMS. 00.32. (Jill) Merry Xmas – Christian

SMS. 00.44. (Shelly) Yeah, Happy Xmas to you, TT! – Christian

SMS. 00.44. Thank u darling – Shelly

SMS. 00.44. (Rachel) Yeah. Wrapping fucking presents – Christian

SMS. 00.45. Me 2… thank God 4 alcohol. Fuck, where did all this shit come from & just how many kids do I have? Mince pies, yummy – Rachel

SMS. 00.47. (Shelly) Ho, ho, ho – Christian

SMS. 00.48. Ditto! – Shelly

SMS. 00.49. (Rachel) Merry Xmas – Christian

I woke in the cabin – cabin, cottage, it all depends on my mood, but it is the same thing no matter what I call it at any minute – early, in my big bed, floating above the ground, that’s how it feels, like a Gilligan’s Island hovercraft, a floating – velour plush – island all of its own. My floating, sleep island. An old champagne coloured modular lounge setting that I push together to make one big giant bed, like plush building blocks. I build up the open fire before I go to sleep and I am toasty and warm as I watch the flickering shadows cast by the flames across the walls and on the ceiling.

So, this is Christmas? Soft colours of the forest imbued my vision, until I'm sure my corneas had turned green. Oh yes, they are green. Silly me. Inside out… it’s like the bush inside out; being inside the cabin on Xmas morning. Wattle and gum trees.

I had no idea what time Mark and Luke had gone to sleep, I left them wrapping presents, in the house. I stood in the middle of the lounge, after wrapping my presents, watching them both busy and just felt tired. (shut down sequence had begun) My weeks were catching up to me, it was the night before Xmas, and I needed to sleep.

SMS. 8.29. Merry Christmas Christian xxxx – Tom

The masses would be arriving soon.

I was going to drive down to get mum, drive back, drive her home afterwards, then drive back up and then drive down again tomorrow. But Rich and Marg were, practically, driving right past Lottie’s door. But no, too hard, they couldn’t do that. But, then I got her to stay the night.

SMS. 11.19. Ho Ho Homosexual Xmas. Joy to you! Hope you have a great day. Love always Lauri and Leroy xx

Lunch was a family affair. Traditional family roast. Ham, pork, crackling, lamb, mint sauce, the usual fair. Roast potatoes cooked in the Aga. Yum! Plum Pudding, caramel sauce, ice cream and whipped cream.

I watched (niece) Kellie get short with mum – as I’d seen her do a number of times during the day – as they were leaving, as Kellie sat in the back of the car, as Kellie wanted the salt, at the table. Then I saw her face change and I watched her really make an effort. Gill turned to me and said, "I’ve explained to Kellie about being nice and about the inheritance." Gill beamed.

I was taken a back. Lost for words. "Well, you could just talk to her about being nice... for no reason."

Jasus! I thought.

SMS. 17.33. Merry Xmas to you too. Happy New year. Big hugs and kisses. Lots of love Christian

We watched Operatunity.

Of course, everybody sang. You can't be a true family memeber, if you can't sing.

SMS. 22.10. Merry Christmas and thanks for the birthday message – Jill 

Nothing Much

I lazed around, pretty much, and did nothing. I’m making allowances in my guilt, now a days, for working full time, when I’m not at Bolago. Working weekend functions. And for doing everything for nothing – in fact, often it costs me money. If I go to the shops for supplies, I’m the only fool who pays for it himself. So now, I can laze guilt free.

Mark, not so long ago, in a stressed moment, asked me what it was that I ever did for him, now? I was a bit taken aback. If anything, I thought I could quite legitimately being asking him the same question; when I come up and worked at his functions, often picking up supplies on the way, I'm working seven days a week.

Funny, that I don't usually think that way, as I enjoy it. I only think that way when I am challenged.

SMS. 20.59. Getting the Xmas spirit, making mince pies and drinking brandy. Ho, ho, ho – Rachel

What do I do? In fucken deed!

Yay!

the boy in the blue trunks

Gettin' Out of Town

The day just has to be over. Gone. Done. Extinguished. The last day of the work year. Yay! Yip, yip, yippee. No more salt mines for a couple of weeks. I’m going on holidays. My calloused tongue will have time to heal. Oh, what? That's life. Not work. Pity!

Kym

Merry Xmas to you miss... er... mrs... er... ms... and to all the rest of your (expanding) clan.

Christian

Kym’s daughter is now having a baby at sixteen. Oh well, like mother like daughter, I guess. I mean, Kym didn't have Saffy when she was sixteen. I'm talking about Max. You know, if mum can get pregnant, so can I.

How’s your day? - Christian

Average - Tim

Oh. I'm bored - Christian

Wanna go for a drink? - Tim

Gotta go shopping, last chance - Christian

Alcohol will make shopping easier and more enjoyable. Alcohol makes everything better - Tim

SMS. 14.46 (Rachel) I’m bored – Christian

It was still so hot, after work, that I did my shopping in fifteen minutes, I wasn’t mucking around. Too hot! I nearly had second thoughts, I nearly faultered. Then, I just thought fuck it, stop being a pussy.

Think it, do it. Don’t procrastinate.

I was sweating, just standing in my lounge room, once I got home. You know, when your clothes stick to you when you are standing still and the sweat is running down your face. I was going to wrap my presents, do the whole bit, wrapping paper, ribbon...

Then I thought to myself, it wouldn’t be like this in the country. There would be fresh air in the country. The car is air-conditioned, even. All I do is put the shopping bags in the car, don't unpack them. Grab my bag and lap-top, which are both packed and ready to go and just walk out the door.

Take it all up there.

Do it all up there.

I can take everything with me and leave Mark and Luke the mess. He, he.

I had packed up and left within fifteen minutes.

SMS. 19.41. I’m having a beer b4 heading to Southland – Rachel

SMS. 20.04. I’m in Bolago, where it is cool – Christian

SMS. 20.04. Cool! I am in Cheltenham where I don’t know what the temperature is ‘cos of the air-conditioning – Rachel

 

I Miss Shelley

SMS. 13.54. Have you got your moonie – you know, big red – decorated with tinsel? – Christian

SMS. 13.57. & coloured balls!! – Shelley

SMS. 13.58. Shot like ping-pong balls out of the red beaver, no doubt. – Christian

SMS. 14.06. & with six shooters! – Shelley

SMS. 14.01. Playing jingle bells as u walk, no doubt – Christian

SMS. 14.12 & an emu up a gum tree! – Shelley

SMS. 14.18. Happy fucking xmas Shell. May you get rogered good and proper over the holiday season – Christian

SMS. 14.31. Ditto! Merry Xmas. Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he… gay his life must be! xx – Shelley

I bought Luke’s remote control boat, after work. I got some of the chocolates too. The boat wasn’t heavy but it was large and awkward. I struggled home with it and the chocolates, in the fierce afternoon sun.

Nicholas, and I, were talking about him doing a la carte. He wants to learn how to do it properly, they are asking him to do it at work, but they have never trained him. He wants to ask for training. He’s too pretty to keep hidden away in the kitchen, apart from anything. Exploit his looks, you morons. If he can walk, he can carry a dish front of house. He would make a very handsome waiter. And he’s funny. And he’s really personable. He’s good with the sweet talk. He can talk to anyone. No theory of relativity, for our Nicholas, but then it doesn't have to be for everyone.

"Yes, ask for training, Nicholas," I said. "It may be as simple as they don't realise you have an on going interest in front of house."

I called Rachel for a few tips. She wasn’t answering. I left a message that I had a question. Then thought that was pointless, as I was only, really, interested in the answer in the immediate. I'll be picking at my arse, or blogging, when she finally calls back.

SMS. 23.07. And the question was? – Rachel

SMS. 23.10. What? – Christian

SMS. 23.50. U called 2 ask a question – Rachel

SMS. 23.54. Serve from the right, clear from the left? – Christian 

Happy Birthday

(Teddy)

Everything is well in my world… except for work. I’ve decided that, at any given time, 50% of the people we work with are totally incompetent and I should just accept the fact and move on. Now, the trick is to get to Xmas without killing someone.

I hope all is well with you

I did know that Haiku was a poem about nature… but… how many autumn leaves and sticks of blossom can one write about?

What’s senryu?

I kind of liked your idea about writing something everyday.

I thought I had the 5 syllables, 7 syllables, five syllables, any subject I wanted.

Merry xmas for Sunday. I’m not doing my bah-humbug routine this year. Just sweetness and light from me.

Christian

Ah, senryu has the same structure as haiku, but rather than being about nature, it's an observation of some kind. Haiku and nature is not fun. Much prefer the senryu form.

You nearly had a haiku there, but the word belch is only one syllable.

I've started a blog to keep myself writing. Like most blogs, it's self-indulgent crap, but it has me writing. Hopefully the first of the articles for the new mag will be requested next month. If you would like to have a look, my blogsite is www.xxxxxxxxxx.blogspot.com. I try and update a couple of time a week.

Off to Adelaide on Saturday. I got the worst of Xmas over early, and will go home to Mum's and talk to the cat for a few days. I've avoided a lot of Xmas this year - it's been good.

And like you I would gladly kill a few people at work – but thems the breaks.

Take care, talk soon,

x Teddy

Tom, Manny was great. So was I. Good night sweet Prince. Wasn't it hot? - Christian

I was quite comfy in my air conditioned Dingley, with the lovely Polly by my side.

Wish me a Happy Birthday Miss! - Tom

Oh yes, of course. I have remembered right up until yesterday. Honest. And now to forget at the last minute, how remiss.

Happy birthday miss. - Christian

SMS. 21.17. (Jill) Happy birthday miss – Christian

I'd kiss him, sure I would