Anything But...

Tim just appeared as I was leaving the house.

“I so don’t want to go to work. Is it 6pm yet?”

I laughed.

“Because that’s what time I’m going to bed.”

SMS. 08.18. Morning. I smoked pot & snorted K with the lovely Nicholas and Tim y’day. How was your day? – Christian

SMS. 08.18. T’was okay. Unremarkable – Tom

SMS. 9.20. Ugh. 3 hour kidney function test today. I think I prefer unremarkable. Or even K! Or X! Or crystal!! Anything!!! x – Tom

SMS. 9.54. Good luck – Christian

Subject: bills

Christian

I have some news – I’m shaking – will tell you tonight.... By the way I will pay all of the bills on Thursday night.... I hope they are not too overdue...

Tim

Subject: bills

Time for bed? (is it 6pm yet?)

Christian

Subject: bills

No – Looks like I got another promotion

Tim

Subject: bills

I thought you were shaking because of the weekend.

Christian

Subject: bills

no – I didn’t have much at all

Tim

Half a pill and apparently I did more K.

Tim said to Nicholas, “What will we do tonight?”

“Oh, I’ll bring the other bike over and we’ll go for a ride.”

“He doesn’t know me that well, clearly,” said Tim.

I’m in the study, I can hear the clunk of Tim’s wine glass, even from here.

Smoked bongs with Nicholas. I shared my last, tiny, bud of dope with him. Well, it made sense that if we mulled it up and smoked it in a bong there would be much more for each of us.

Watched Idol and Law & Order.

I went to bed early.

Drugs & Sex

 Subject: Melbourne calling

oh contraire! i though the treatment was great! i mean hey what’s not to like, drugs, death, p**dophilia, harlots, strap-ons, gay sex straight sex, weird sex... the list goes on.. i was merely quoting Willy Wonker (THE 1ST AND ONLY VERSION) ...when violets mum goes to step on the boat... you really MUST watch it again so inspiring. Anyways that's my saying of the week for EVERYTHING.

Hey is it your birthday today?? i know it’s around this time have i missed it? i hope not. Anyways HAPPY BIRTHDAYS TO YOU CHRISO!!!!

Not too late to meet up at 'the Cock' Jacob’s new hang apparently, for some birthday drinkies.

As for that poor woman, you are wicked Mr Fletcher, but hey you get me grinning every time... maybe you could use one around the office to scare her off? i did see these adorable cabbage patch dolls that were green with fangs and horns, glowing red eyes and scars? Perhaps the zombie could be cradling one?

(Aby)

Subject: here ya go

i think its great cris cris, really.

im excited!!!

xx

get onto that 1st draft before you get to stoned!

; )

oh and at 1st when i read the end bit, i thought it read Dingly on closer look i saw it was Dingy! Ha!

(Aby)

I smoked pot and did bumps of K with Nicholas. We watched really bad American television movies; a gorilla in one and Frank Sinatra in another.

Tim and Nicholas were out last night partying.

When He Goes Quiet, I Know I've Got Him

SMS. 8.07. Nick’s (St Kilda) probably being comforted in his b/f Adam’s (Essendon) arms, after y’days loss – Christian

Two days off and it is only Saturday, you gotta love that. Off to mum’s soon and then coffee and cake with Leah, Jill and Rachel.

No milk for my muesli. Bugger!

It’s raining and cold.

I decided that I really had things to do and places to go, no sitting behind my computer whiling the day away.

Turn the computer off, Christian! Turn it off! You do it! You!

Then I went to my mum’s, where she proceeded to thumb through a cook book to look up a recipe for the scrambled eggs she promised me. I made them in minutes - the way she taught me. I went to Blackburn to pick up Leah. Wilma-Joan looked fantastic. She is back to how she is meant to look in my mind - slim, stylish and smiling. We drove to Prahran to pick up Jill, then headed off to Hampton Street Hampton to have lunch with Rachel, as she worked in Urchin Bar.

SMS. 13.33. By the way. Happy birthday doll. Love sheen – Shane

SMS. 13.33. Who is Adam? – Tom

SMS. 13.36. McFee – Christian

Then I drove Jill home and drove Leah to the airport by 17.30 and now I’m home.

I called Tom. I was going to proceed straight back along the freeway to Prahran to see him; stay out and get everything you have to do done, kind of thing. And then I got to thinking about the joint I could have and I turned off at Flemington Road and was in the middle of a rather fun scrap with a blue WRX, when in mid gear change, I suddenly said, Tom! Where am I? Fuck! I’m such an airhead sometimes. He didn’t sound happy. I think I woke him and I made the excuse of letting him go back to sleep. But, I guess it is annoying if people ring up and say I was going to come and visit you. But I was! I meant to! Oh. Kick of the shoe into the dirt.

Aby didn’t enthuse about my Hansel & Grethel script, as I thought she might.

Subject: Melbourne Calling

thats tres olay but is she sea worthy?

America is fun fun fun my friend and cute cute cute...

today i walked past this store and there were life LIFE sized zombies for sale and they screamed and everything!

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm braaaaaaaaaains.

oh and i bought 3 pairs of shoes today,

i justified it because i went to see the beautiful girls last night and i didn't pay, they gave me free clothes and a vip wristband that allowed me ANYTHING i wanted behind the bar... of course i went straight to the bar tender informed him of my status then made him do tricks all night.

xx (Ab)

wish you were here :)

Clearly, she didn’t think my synopsis, which I sent her just before she left, was sea worthy. But it wasn’t, I’m sure I told her that. Rough as. Maybe, I didn’t make that clear. We would have to have edited it. Oops! Oh well. She’ll be pleasantly surprised then. I’d better get back to work on it. You know, if I put my mind to it, I could bang out a very rough version of a full 100 page draft, before she got back. I could. I’m not going to. But, in actual fact, I could. But, I could.

Prove it!

Too much dope to smoke, babe.

That’s what you’ll say in forty years and nothing will ever get written. Full of promise, as has always been the case with you, Christian. Hard work. Step up. Push yourself. Put in the hard effort. That’s what you have to do if you want to be a…success. Doesn’t matter what you are being successful at, the process is the same. (Ed note – I can do it when I am driven by the threat of failing a subject)

I’m rolling a joint. Don’t get me wrong, I think it has got to the stage now that if I want to be a successful writer, I have to produce some credible work. Shit or get off the pot. Never has that saying been so apt. I have to produce work now. Because, I know I can.

Goodness me that would be an awful lot of work for a project that I only half believe in, in a process I have my serious doubts about. Collaborating? (Ed note – that’s just fear talking) But on the other hand, like I’m so busy with so many other projects. This is a serious proposition. Maybe, I’m just scared. I don’t feel scared. Kind of confidant in my abilities in a general sense, but not confidant I can get a project finished. It kind of feels like because of apathy, but I guess it has to be a well masked vein of fear. Fear of failure, I guess. But I don’t fear failing, or at least I don’t feel like I do. It’s a fear of being locked into something, which may expose the real me, a failure. But I don’t feel fearful. To tell you the truth, I think I feel numb. It feels like apathy. But that has to be based in something, otherwise apathy wouldn’t matter. I don’t know why I want to write. Do I have to take it seriously? Why? So my script can be made into a movie. And then what? It’s a movie. Nothing feels of any more importance than anything else, at the moment. Everything is even. Of even value. Importance. I’m having trouble feeling the difference. Too much dope?

So, do I want to get to the end and have them say he always had a drug problem, he could have been…?

What do I care if they do? What would it matter, really? I’d be dead. Dust. And by that stage, anything anybody did is equal. Over. Gone.

What is wrong with me? Is this a completely self focused attitude? Oh sweetie, I know I should feel something… Give pleasure to so many others.

I guess I am precious, after all.

But is she sea worthy.

Manny called and talked so wantonly dirty that I got the mind numbing whoosh up the spine and went quiet on the phone – we both see the sign in each other, when an offer of sex has been made that is too good to pass up, the recipient goes dead quiet on the other end of the phone, as his dirty thoughts process. At that point, you know you don’t have to say any more. Got him!

Tom called just after that and sounded as though he needed a visit. I offered to dump Manny for him, but he said he’d probably be asleep in an hour, anyway. And besides, said Tom. It's good stress relief. You need it.

Subject: Melbourne calling

(Aby)

So you didn’t think my synopsis was sea worthy? It wasn’t. Rough as, you would have had to edit it. I thought I said that. The script? I don’t know. Most of the time I think I’m faking it, anyway, so who am I to judge. But it’s the full story of Hansel & Grethel, in scenes, 21st Century style, even if it is only twenty pages. I can see it all fitting together. I think a full length draft of a script will be a piece of cake. First draft, that is. Genius may take time.

The barman doing tricks? Now you are talking babe. Cheeky American boys. Yum.

I’ll pass on the zombies, remember I work in the corporate world. We’ve got one woman who lost twins a year, or so ago and she’s just had a miscarriage, surprise, surprise, she’s practically fifty. What does she expect? But she has started a charity run to get some new equipment for the children’s hospital, complete with charity boxes with pictures of her cradling her child – which is now clearly dead – dotted around the office. I don’t think she thought she was getting enough sympathy. I’ve seen her in the lift and about the place this last week, getting comforted by everyone she meets. I see her lapping up the attention. She comes alive in a very creepy walking-dead chill-up-the-spine kind of way.

But I digress.

Americans? Clear skin, good jaws. Yes, it’s coming back to me. Bright eyes and white teeth. And big togers. Ah yes, now it’s coming back to me. Slapped about the face with those monsters. Yum!

Sometime later…

Just boofed Manny, so I’m feeling mighty relaxed. Yes, yes, contradicted what I said last time, but hey, it’s a great relaxant.

I didn’t tell you that Tom got his results back and he is cancer free. Cool huh? Especially, after that conversation the other night. Now he’s just bored in hospital, the bladder problem persists.

I went to see Renee Geyer at the concert Hall last night, with Mark and Luke. She was everything you’d expect a diva of thirty years standing to be. She looked great (actually, optional with divas, but there you go), note perfect – not quite, but in that bluesy way you’d expect her not to be anyway – in fine voice; black, husky-smooth, smoky-gravel. I didn’t quite see god as I would expect, even momentarily, with a black chic, but, as fine and as full-bodied as pure honey sliding over you from the scalp. I guess she’s got legend status, Australian legend, of course. If we did the time and remain standing, we’d even get it in the end…mmm?... in Australia, anyway. Which wouldn’t be so bad. I suppose there could be worse fates than being Australian Art House in America. Which I would guess Renee would be, or the musical equivalent thereof.

Christian

Let’s face it, if I don’t produce something soon that I have written that is good… and complete, well, I guess, I’ll have to stop saying I’m a writer. I hardly say it to anyone now.

Now, is that a symptom or a cause? Believe in yourself. Call yourself a writer. It’s like singing, until you let go and believe you can do it, it never really comes smoothly. Belief in one’s self.

I might fail.

Being a finance boffin and retiring at, whatever age, never having done, I know, is a greater failure.

So you just can’t win really. :(

Not until I let go of everything, write full time… Jasus! I’m such a princess and I don’t even know it. Like everyone who I sneer at in the twenty first century, I want it all now, no work. Stop making having to work an excuse. The universe knows that I waste time at the speed of sound puffing the hooch or, even worse, mind numbingly as the hours cruise by on gaydar.

I never get above 50% (Ed note – I can do it when I am driven by the threat of failing a subject…or crashing and burning at work.)

Joint?

My creativity clocks in and clocks out. While I was writing the Hansel & Grethel script, it clocked in. But now it’s clocked out. No use pushing, if it’s clocked out it can be tedious. (Ed note – but it can be cajoled, coaxed, if one sits down and actually writes) It’s not far out though, I can feel a kind of back-burner sensation going on when I think about pumping out a full-length script. When I look at my bit and I look at Ab’s bit, I feel I have a problem I need to fix. Which is good, it means the writer’s interest is still pumped.

So my usual modis de operandi would be to write something else, (Ed note – I also have a full first-draft of Magic) which would mean I would have to distract myself from that by writing something else. You know, put it off. (Ed note – my own version of tandem writing, I should just except the process) I would just have to make sure that the ‘something else’ is Hansel & Grethel. But it would be, because I know my interest is still pumped. Obvious distraction piece.

Missy is rubbing herself constantly against my shins.

I just have to believe I can do it. But I believe I can do it, I’m just lazy. No, it must mean I don’t believe I can do it. Logically. Deep seated. Childhood trauma, possibly.

The trouble is that the next stage is reading what has been written and I’m smoking too much pot to read anything and take it in. If I could read all of what we have written and what Aby has written, absorb it so our entire story has a shape in my head, image wise… and I was driven, I could pump it out to forty pages, easy. No work, I could pump it out to sixty. If the creative process chugged on out and I felt like I had something to prove… to complete. See the vision. Sure. One hundred, at a push. Blood gone, completely drained.

Joint?

3am

Subject: here ya go

(Aby)

I know it’s got continuity problems, but that just means writing more.

Christian

Tim and Nicholas got home at 4.30am.

I decided it was time to go to bed, at that point. 

Cake and Chocolate Royals

My mouth is fine, no problem. No painkillers today. Still cautious about eating. Have eaten lots of cake. Seriously. And Chocolate Royals.

SMS. 7.09. Morning Christian, how's ya mouth? Cancer free feeling good here! – Tom

SMS. 8.41. Plaque-free & T.H.C. indulged feels good here – Christian

SMS. 8.52. Good for you :) – Tom

I was really hammered on dope about lunch time. I had to lay on the couch for a while, you know, stared to long at the computer screen, had to wait for the room to stop spinning. Tell me again why it is bad to smoke them like cigarettes?

SMS. 13.32. Boy u can get really stoned when u try – Christian

I was having trouble seeing the screen when I was sending that one. Although, I am starting to have trouble with fine print in dark light now. Not the same, I guess?

SMS. 13.33. And this is new to you? I am very scared for us both! – Tom

SMS. 13.36. And the hags r due – Christian

SMS. 13.40. Oh lovely lost remember YOU are the patient. Have a great evening. xxxx – Tom

SMS. 16.05. (Tim) Hey, is that cool cd (Ed Note – James Blount) somewhere around? – Christian

Mark took one look at me, lying on the couch, and said, Oh Chriso! He gave me that look, you know, kind of like mum would give when she finds her son drunk on the front door step.

SMS. 19.48. (Rachel) Renee Geyer is about to start – Christian

Renee Geyer was fantastic, all I expected from her.

SMS. 20.14. Roast chicken about 2 b served. Have fun c u 2morrow?! – Rachel

SMS. 20.43. Interval. Tomorrow it is – Christian

Handsome & Generous... Verging on Perfect

Subject: yes well – pass it on

If dumb bitch smuggling pot is all out innocence herself not for it, and if is guilty then 20 years and NOT being shot is somehow still an injustice but if Aussie murdering chinks then line em up against the wall. Why are you questioning this?

Happy birthday to you, HBTO HB dear Birthday-forgetter, HBTY.

Hiphip - HOOOOOOOOORAYYYYYYY!

Josh Isreali-German Friendship Movement Transalpine Hydroelectric Scheme Still Call Australia Home O'Mallee Gale

PS tired, very tired.

Had excursion yesty – ferry pulled out without 2 kids. We just drew further and further away... I kept in phone contact and sent them to a train station and we met them there and carried on but I was sure to be fired. 2 other kids also missing but thank god by day's end I had figured out – wait! they may just be sick! ha ha! – rang em and sure enough they were so big sighs.

But your points have been noted. IS the other school better? that is the question.

Alex had had a talking to and is very sorry. Now he just makes fun of me by a finger under the nose signal meaning my moustache. That cracks Charlene up and they carry on innocence galore. I must try and like them for such nonsenseoonery. After all, secret signs deserve some credit or? But yes, we will eliminate them painfully AT THE RIGHT MOMENT. They have otherwise been getting worksheets galore from me – eat this structure and die!!!!!

I would like to do what you do every night and then do some of what I do. Or else I will explode. But when? Can I afford the time?

Get it together Galey

Josh

SMS. 7.55. First joint and first vomit! How lovely! And what of you Christian? – Tom

SMS. 9.25. Dentist… 1.30… Yay – Christian

SMS. 10.16. That’s the spirit Christian! – Tom

Subject: hello

(Jill)

Are you lurking around some where there?

Christian

Subject: hello

Yes and feeling very guilty – Happy Birthday for yesterday! I remembered twice yesterday and didn't call because I was in the middle of something, then woke up this morning and realised that I hadn't called you at all.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY – you old fogey you.

Regards,

Jill

Subject: hello

Yes, well, I was going to comment, after I re-checked my messages from yesterday. But, as you so rightly said – some may say unkindly, but luckily I’ve known you for a good old age – old fogey, so maybe I didn’t want to dwell on it anyway.

More to the point – not wishing to comment on the organisational skills of gnats – how are you off for Saturday and coffee and cake with Leah, Rachel and me?

Christian

Subject: Ten, nine, eight, seven…

(Leah)

2 ½ hours to go before I’m butchered. How’s ya day my lovely?

Christian

Subject: hello

(Jill)

Speaking of old fogies, we are the same age, momentarily.

Christian

I’ve just spoken to Tom and while it admits to taking morphine recreationally – just getting through the day, who could blame him. I don’t know that I’d do anything differently – the powers that be have come down on him because so much morphine means his pain is way beyond what they think it should be. He said there was certainly a psychosomatic element to it and that he’d try to use other methods. They said he is risking dialysis for his kidneys if he didn’t ease up on it. He said to me that while he still has pain it’s not that bad and he was requesting it through boredom more than anything else – the amount, not the drug.

Subject: Subject: yes well – pass it on

(Josh)

So you actually don’t see anything wrong with the Australian Government applauding the death penalty, no matter what the crime may, or may no, be?

Let me remind you. “Oh Hitler had one big ball…”

Christian

On that note, I headed off to the dentist. It started to rain immediately I left the house. There was a gaggle of school boys on the corner on an excursion, with their teachers. There was one that was so sexy angelic. (Year 12, most likely 18, give me a break) Bad Christian!

I came back and got an umbrella. It took me ten minutes to walk, I allowed an hour, so I was very early. The dentist and her nurse sounded like school girls, eating their lunch, in the other room.

I did feel a little apprehension when the nurse said she’d forgotten her glasses and was having trouble seeing. I decided I was being uptight.

Subject: Hello

Hi,

I have already sent a reply saying I would love to do coffee and cake etc. Actually, I know a great place to meet 'Spoonful' which Rachel knows as well.

Regards,

Jill

Subject: Ten, nine, eight, seven...

Bless you – will be thinking of you. Can you ring Jill and sort out Sat, where we meet etc. Do you want to come and get me at Wilma-Joan bones?

Leah

You know, I worry about money all the time; after my credit card bill hit thirteen thousand; as I walked back from posting cheques for $4000 to pay it; after putting $400 on it for my teeth and I realised I had $200 in my wallet which I should have paid off my dental surgery bill, instead of whacking it on my credit card; all means that I have plenty of money; it’s just the resentment towards myself for cheating myself out of 160 a year instead of 100 by my own inaction; that’s hard to deal with; I’ll only smoke the $200 on pot, anyway; I wish I earned twice as much.

SMS. 14.43. (Tim) Surgery is over. My mouth feels really big. Do u think Nicholas would mind if I smoked the dope in the bowel? – Christian

Tim called to say that Nicholas had left the dope out for me, he had forgotten to tell me. He thought I might need it for the pain, after the surgery.

SMS. 14.49. (Tom) The lovely Nicholas left the pot out for me. Handsome & generous. The boy could well be verging on perfect – Christian

I decided I did, indeed, want the pot. I was nervous about the anaesthetic wearing off. I wanted all available pain relief.

SMS. 14.58. Hey Nicholas, could u get some stuff for me? Christian. (Tim gave me your number, as he had no credit on his phone) – Christian

Subject: Hello

Jill

Yes, that may well be. But as I am the only one amongst us who seems to be able to organise the gaggle, I know more than you, naturally. (and evidently) It’s just pulling this baby together, juggled with mouth surgery – I have stitches in my gum, but, I’m fine thanks for asking – that’s the tricky bit. Rachel is working all day Saturday, so we are going to her work to eat cake and drink coffee with her.

What do you think?

Christian

Subject: Ten, nine, eight, seven...

Leah

I have it all in hand, goodness, someone had to. I could come and get you from ya ma's, no problem.

Christian

Subject: Hello

The other day, a friend questioned my cunning ability to know exactly what button to push in other people, to get the maximum response. So just to prove I wasn’t mistaken, it’s all organised, you’re coming, three against one. See you there.

Christian

I picked Nicholas up from the Laundromat at Holden and St George’s Road. He had his cute little dog with him.

SMS. 16.11. How ya feeling? – Tom

I dashed home from the dope deal to get my hair cut. Something I've always been chronically bad at is getting a haircut on time. A simple proposition, you might say? But, I don't have that prewarning gene that most people seem to have, which tells them to get their hair cut. No, I'm only able to tell, for some reason, when I look in the mirror and my reaction is to jump in fright. That's when it dawns on me that I need a haircut.

SMS. 16.24. Do u think a soft diet means cake? – Christian

SMS. 16.26. Stoned. If this is as painful as it gets, easy. How long does it take for the anaesthetic to wear off? – Christian

I staggered off down Smith Street. I bought a Spanakopika but couldn’t eat it, too chewy. And, I soooooo wanted to. I tried biting it with my front teeth only. I tired biting it on the side. I tired tearing off small pieces and putting them in my mouth. No, nothing worked. I still had to chew the pastry to get it down. And chewing is when the pain really amps up.

SMS. 16.42. A few hours. I am cancer free. The transplant worked. I am cured! – Tom

SMS. 16.45. There u go. Well done! – Christian

I was a space-cadet when I booked it. Oh, fourish to sixish, sometime like that, to getting there at ten to fiveish. He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned wasn’t there. So I staggered back up Smith Street, changing my mind three times as to where I was going and then forgetting all of the possibilities anyway.

I found a DVD liquidation shop and ill advisedly, in my monetary position, I went in.

But, I'd just had surgery, I should be kind on myself.

How can I respond to Tom’s news? It was so big, life or death, it’s hard to enthuse on the magnitude to which the occasion deserves.

SMS. 17.10. All over miss – Christian

The wog-boys I see in He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned’s salon. Yum!

I was off my bonce sitting there in He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned’s chair. Jesse was going to roll me a joint after the hair cut, but I was spaced enough as it was. Two Dolased, two joints, two Nurophen Plus, two other pain killers. (Gay boys make excellent pharmacists) Jesse is so gorgeous. He is in remission, too. He looks great.

I wonder if there is a link between IV drug use and leukaemia. Tom and Jesse, our leukaemia twins.

Subject: yes well – pass it on

Of course I do. I was highlighting the double standard. Er, you do emphasise satirical criticism in your country, don't you?

Mr Martha Mool

Subject: Hello

Well that's fine with me, what about Leah.

Regards,

Jill

Subject: yes well – pass it on

When we hear satire, we certainly emphasise it.

Christian

I met Tim and Nicholas, in X Street, as they were going out for dinner.

I completed a very rough, first draft of Hansel & Grethel. I had all those same mini feelings of amazement about myself for having, actually done it. I haven’t got a visual picture of the script in my head, as yet. I realised that a visual picture of the shape of the paper and the set-out of the words on the page, is an important piece of the writing process. No visual picture and the script doesn’t exist. So, now, I have to sit down and read it, the old fashioned way. I can write on screen just fine, but I have to read hard copy, turning the pages.

I have to read it back to form a picture of how it would look.

Aby will be pleased. Finally, I have written. I need to harness that writing energy more often. I soooo could, if I didn’t have to work. I need a couple of years off to write my novel. Or working consultant, some days off would be good. I need to sell my cars and pay my bills. Then I could. 

Happy Birthday to Me

 

Subject: Not to be read until Wednesday you sneaker

This is for Wednesday - not to be read until then. Stop reading you Mole!

I said stop reading. It's for Wednesday to show how clever I am.

I am very clever, er apparently,

Now:

Dear Mole of Fletchers,

Ha ha ha, Hee hee hee, I believe I have cracked this somebody somewhere something today thing.

A somewhat appropriate card methinks. But there is no references to green or Brazilian DVDs labelled cream your gushing jizz up my... etc. WHY OH WHY is life so imperfect I ask miself? Spurned at every turn. Surrounded by etc.

Have a good one Mole 1, tune off, turn on, get it on. Greek sausages all around thank you very much!

Mole 2

SMS. 7.36. Morning Christian. First joint time for me. Gonna need more soon! Shane! Mark! – Tom

SMS. 8.26. Morning miss. The sun is shining, my work is done, practically. All is well with the world – Christian

SMS. 9.01. Happy Birthday Christian love Perry & Wes – Perry

SMS. 10.50. Tra la la for us! – Tom

SMS. 13.26. Happy birthday Chriso – Jane

Subject: 1.11

(M&L)

Afternoon.

(Christian)

Manny called to borrow money. I said no.

It was wet and dark and cold for most of the afternoon, but managed to stay dry as I walked home. I was stuffed.

I missed a call from Tom.

SMS. 18.23. Yes miss? – Christian

SMS. 18.33. Happy Birthday Christian xxxx – Tom

Manny called while I was walking home and said come over for sex.

All I’d been hearing about Saturday was, left a message for her, haven’t heard from her. I made a call to Leah and a call to Rachel while I was at the lights at Hoddle Street. Organised it all. How hard can it be?

Rachel said to come to her work, as she had a double at the bar and was working all day.

SMS. 19.24. (Rachel) Leah thought that was a good idea – Christian

SMS. 19.35. Did you wish me happy birthday? – Christian

SMS. 20.34. In my head luv, in my head, just didn’t think I should indulge u 2 much xxx – Rachel

I went to mum’s for dinner. We ate fish. Mum got me a cake in a small white box, two peanut butter Kit Kats, a packet of chocolate Royals.

SMS. 21.25. How old r u? – Rachel

SMS. 21.25. 30 – Christian

SMS. 21.26. Fuck how did it take such a short time 2 get from 16 to 30? – Rachel

I called Manny and said I was tired, from outside the drive in bottle shop in Victoria Street; no reason except that’s where I turn to follow the back streets through Abbotsford. I called him before I got home, just in case he talked me into going over.

SMS. 21.26. Tell me about it. Although, when u think about it, we’ve done lots of stuff in those years – Christian

SMS. 21.36. Hmmm 4 kids… – Rachel

Now I’m home, I feel like seeing Manny. I always feel, kind of, awful, after I say no to him. His gorgeous face, his sweet spirit, his husky voice, swim around in my head and I always feel mean... actually, disappointed with myself, when I have wimped on the effort.

Midnight. Dean is coming over for sex, if he can get a car. Half an hour, or so. How long do I wait?

SMS. 00.33. I can be there in 20 – Dean

SMS. 00.35. Okay – Christian

SMS. 01.03. Am outside – Dean

Lovely Dean, he’s gorgeous looking, and he's sweet. He’s goes to Canada next week, he said to see a band was one reason he was going. The band is called The Organ. He's still got beautiful eyes and soft, soft lips. It kind of feels like he is getting away just when my interest is peaked. 

Activate Transmat Beam

SMS. 7.55. Okay, I’ve had a joint and coffee and now it’s time for some morphine. How will I get through the day? – Tom

I woke up late. I caught the tram. No wonder I’m getting fat. No, actually that’s because I’m eating chocolate bars and muffins and Neenish Tarts. Michelle’s down stairs makes them, the Neenish tarts. They are good. I can never go back there.

SMS. 9.11. Miss, u sound like u r coping admirably – Christian

SMS. 9.46. I do try – Tom

Subject: 11.11

(M&L)

Morning.

Christian

SMS. 11.28. Another joint I think – Tom

SMS. 11.54. Stop! U r just teasing. Clearly, u r feeling better – Christian

SMS. 11.54. I’m in pain! That’s one of the points! Evil chuckle – Tom

SMS. 19.49. Hello – G

SMS. 19.53. Hi buddy, how r u? I’m sorry to hear about your dad. It’s a bitch – Christian

SMS. 19.53. Sucks, life’s tuff. Hate everything – G

SMS. 19.57. It gets better, but it takes a while. He wouldn’t want u to be hating life – Christian

SMS. 20.13. How? – G

SMS. 20.18. U get used to it, I guess. It becomes your life – Christian

SMS. 20.37. So we learn 2 live with it? – G

SMS. 20.43. No, we just live with it. My dad had a happy life, he did all the stuff he wanted to do. I just think about that – Christian

Subject: hello

Merle

Goodness me! Vipers everywhere. Now Doll, do ya really want to continue this unarmed combat with these snivelling, repugnant, parent types who are clearly putting it on you to make up for the lack of parenting that they, obviously, have had with their little horrors? For the universes sake, it’s like a bad script from Neighbours.

Take the packet of Red-heads in one hand, strike the match against the box firmly and lean down to the most flammable pylon of that bridge and BURN BABY BURN! Don’t look back. You are being offered nirvana, on the proverbial plate, and yet you seem to want to hang with the bile and the puss. It seems like a fairly straight forward decision… flap those wings, leap into the air and if you can defecate on the bastards as you fly to your private school, all the better. FLEE LIKE THE FUCKING WIND! I’m with you all the way, babe.

So evilry unknown… it’s known where you are now! Could it be worse? “Excellent lesson” is a good indicator.

Five years is long enough in one job… um…her hum? (This would be point 2)

Who cares if they are fat or thin, live or die, ever take breath again, once you have jumped ship? (I hope they go down like the Titanic)

I guess, in the struggle for balance – always been a wholly overrated thing in my mind – you are probably learning more where you are than you will where you are going. Too easy. No challenge. But doll, you’ve been on your knees with your face in the doo-doo for how long? (refer to point 2)

And I quote… screw the Germans, screw the school, screw them all… you can’t go on in this fashion!

Does giving up a permanent job mean something bigger in the scheme of things in Germany than it does in Australia? Can you never go back? Does moving to a private school mean your name is forever besmudged from the public system? If the answer to all of these questions is no, as I suspect it is – as long as there is no nazi like fascist-state-shit stuff to crossing over into the private sector, which I wouldn’t know about – start typing you resignation, baby. Is that clear enough?

Activate transmat beam…

Dorothy (Josh0

(Josh)

It’s my busy week and I’ve been smoking bongs nightly with the lovely Nicholas. My head is spinning. Dead line tomorrow. Another joint, perhaps?

I think I’ve given Manny the heave ho, pretty much. So it’s time to get out there. Note to self, must leave the house more often.

Having dinner with my mum for my birthday. Well done, you’ve finally got it. Or at least, I can only assume from the email I received. It just naturally fell on her night for dinner. It seemed mean to change it, somehow. I don’t think forty (it looks much kinder written than in numbers) is that auspicious, anyway.

I’m having the full operation on my guns, cleaning wise, Thursday. Pyriodontist. She anaesthetises me and digs it out from deep under my gums. I might have stitches, she causally added. But they are of the dissolving type. I can’t begin to tell you how much better that made me feel.

I’m off to see Renee Geyer on Friday night, with the Melbourne Symphony, in the concert hall, what’s more…with Mark & Luke and quite possibly the lovely Sebastian.

Still haven’t seen much of the lovely Sebastian.

G’s dad died suddenly. Unexpectedly. G was overseas, on the trip he’d been planning for years. He had to come home and do the full Greek morning thing. He’s very sad. He’s sms’d me, for the first time in ages, tonight. I’m stoned. I have no idea what I’m saying to him.

He, he, he. Oh, not about G, just my head spinning wildly. It’s making me laugh, every time I move; I feel a little like I’m going to throw up, but in a funny kind of way, humorous. Dizzy. He, he, he. It’s a bit like being on a roller coaster. That feeling when you change direction. I get it every time I move my head. Less G forces, natch. It’s making me laugh. Do you think I have been working too hard?

Tom is still in hospital. This week marks the first occasion that I’ve heard him talk about taking drugs. Still, that’s like two months, longer. I think that is pretty much a record for Tom.

Busy week. I might need a pill by Friday. (Not with Tom, you can be sure of that) It’s a thought.

Jackie-Oh! (Too Chinesee?)

Maud. (Christian)

PS. You’ll see Emilio the next time, in Australia.

PPS. I think I need a sweetie. I turned down ice cream earlier, gallantly. In the name of… fuck it, I’m having some.

Subject: hello

(Josh)

Late item, apparently Australia applauds the death by firing squad sentence handed down for one of the Bali Bombing Crew. Remind me, what country am I living in?

Christian

Subject: Hello

(Raymond)

Oh yes, get back to work you slacker. If I have to you do too. I think that’s how it went. Goddam! What I’d give to give up work.

I was outside my building having a cigarette yesterday, when an, not unattractive, Aboriginal guy came towards me.

“Hello beautiful.” At the top of his voice. “I saw you from over the other side of the road and I just had to come over and ask you out on a date.” He smiled widely. He didn’t seem mad or pissed.

I smiled widely. “I don’t know if my partner would be too happy about that.”

“I bet you…while I’ve got your attention, could you spare a dollar?”

“No.” I laughed. “I only came down for a cigarette.“ He laughed.

“I tell you one thing though.” He looked me up and down, still smiling. Still at the top of his voice. “When we go out on this date, or have a relationship, I’d give you the best blow job you’ve ever had.” Big grin. Then he was gone.

I looked around sheepishly, no one about. I didn’t care really. But what made him think I was gay, anyway?

It’s my busy week and I’ve been smoking bongs nightly with the lovely Nicholas. My flatmate Tim’s boyfriend. My head is spinning. Dead line tomorrow. Another joint, perhaps?

Having dinner with my mum for my birthday, its tomorrow. It just naturally fell on her night for dinner. It seemed mean to change it, somehow. I don’t think forty (it looks much kind written than in numbers) is that auspicious, anyway.

I’m having the full operation on my guns, cleaning wise, Thursday. Pyriodontist. She anaesthetises me and digs it out from deep under my gums. I might have stitches, she causally added. But they are of the dissolving type. I can’t begin to tell you how much better that made me feel.

I’m off to see Renee Geyer on Friday night, with the Melbourne Symphony, in the concert hall, what’s more. With Mark and Luke and quite possibly the lovely Sebastian. (Gorgeous Italian woofa, you should hurry back)

I’m sitting here with my idiot grin on… can’t imagine why. My head is spinning wildly. It’s making me laugh, every time I move; I feel a little like I’ve just got off the whizzy thing, in the park; but in a funny kind of way, not in a falling down type of way; humorous. Dizzy. He, he, he. It’s a bit like being on a roller coaster. That feeling when you change direction. I get it every time I move my head. Less G forces, natch. It’s making me laugh.

Note to self, must leave the house more often.

Tom is still in hospital. This week marks the first occasion that I’ve heard him talk about taking drugs. Still, that’s like two months, longer. I think that is pretty much a record for Tom. (Not that he was talking about drugs, don’t get me wrong, it was more of a reminisce… looking toward the future)

Busy week. I might need a pill by Friday. It’s a thought. I have to do something to shift those pesky winter kilos. A few Friday nights dancing, works wonders. It’s just the lost weekends that I hate. Kind of. He, he.

Christian

PS. Late item, apparently Australia applauds the death by firing squad sentence handed down for one of the Bali Bombing Crew. Remind me, what country am I living in?

PPS. I think I need a sweetie. I turned down ice cream earlier, gallantly. In the name of… fuck it, I’m having some. 

Just to Say It....?

SMS. 8.40. (Tom) Morning – Christian

SMS. 8.42. Good luck. Say hello to David Lynch for me – Christian

I was on the tram. People looked each time my phone beeped a message. Ab was off to New York today, with her mum. She was going to a party that would be attended by David Lynch. Ab is going to walk up to him and ask him to be her friend.

SMS. 8.49. Back at ya Miss xx – Tom

SMS. 8.49. Who is this? My new phone has no sim yet? – Ab

SMS. 8.52. Christian

SMS. 8.52. Not 2 late 2 come with? – Ab

SMS. 8.54. Big smile – Christian

Subject: 11.11

Morning

Christian

Subject: 11.11

Morning Chriso,

Only 2 days to go until your b’day, are you excited??? It’s raining lots up here, Mark’s put in the line up to the new lake and water is spilling in as we type, it’s going to look beautiful!!!!!!!! Luke.

Subject: 11.11

I'm more excited about the lake than my birthday – although, mum did bring me in a birthday cake this morning. I think she thought it was today... but I corrected her, discreetly.

Not raining here, but it is berry, berry cold, or at least, it was this morning.

Christian

I was outside my building having a cigarette when a, not unattractive, Aboriginal guy came towards me.

“Hello beautiful. I saw you from over the road and I just had to come over and ask you out on a date.” He smiled widely. He didn’t seem mad or pissed.

I smiled widely. “I don’t know if my partner would be too happy about that.”

“I bet you…while I’ve got your attention, could you spare a dollar?”

“No.” I laughed. He laughed.

“I tell you one thing though.” He looked me up and down, still smiling. “When we go out on this date, or have a relationship, I’d give you the best blow job you’ve ever had.”

Big grin. Then he was gone.

Big smile

SMS. 17.22. I feel like some play drugs! – Tom

SMS. 17.24. Bad Tom! – Christian

SMS. 17.24. Surely it’s no bad just to say it? – Tom

SMS. 18.41. Just to say it…? – Christian

SMS. 18.41. Gee you’re tough – Tom

SMS. 18.43. I’m still @ work… that was being kind – Christian

SMS. 18.43. In that case I forgive you xxxx – Tom

You Have to Believe

I was up at 6.30am. Good for me.

I got to work at 11am.

We still only have one front door key to the house between us. Tim and Nicholas have been at Philip Island for a couple of days.

Tim’s boss Anna McCormack’s house, just over the bridge at SanRemo. Nice spot. Cute house, kind of Arts and Crafts. 

SMS. 15.57. Hello… will be home in two hours. Will u be there? If not, I can go to Nicholas’ for a while – Tim

SMS. 16.16. Not sure, I’m still @ work. Do u want to come & pick up the key? – Christian

SMS. 16.16. Will call u when we get closer – Tim

SMS. 16.31. (Aby) Still @ work. May not make it. Sad face – Christian

SMS. 17.39. (M&L) You never called? – Christian

SMS. 17.45. Just going to pop in now x – Tim

It was pouring with rain when I went out to meet Tim. He ran up the front stairs to me. I don't think I have ever seen Tim run before.

I left work at 7pm, just enough time to get home to watch Idol.

Subject: Hello

Now, I know you seem to think that I'm not exactly stupid, and I try and exact upon you from time to time how far from the case this is, but none the less...

Here in Germainia the law has changed and now instead of 2 parent representatives per class, I now have 4. Also 4 kids' representatives (out of a class of 14). I now have jealous and innerpoliticking parents ringing me up week nights and weekends wanting to know why I talked to Mrs so and so and not her, or warning me direly not to talk to Mrs So and So because she's not to be trusted and is out to get´me, teacher-parents actively coaching their kids how to use the system to make shit fly and me, little old me, emailing My Principal in response to copied emails to me of supportive parents emailing him about me and problems that we have actually solved between him and me, to say sorry if it's annoying but at least I have proactive parents, and do I send it to him or hit reply and actually send it directly to the parents involved? Well, er, yes. Thank God I said good things about them, behind their backs. But that involved yet another phone call and even more desperate heart to hearts to clear that up and crawl away from it all. The bottom line appears to be that actually some of the parents ARE out to get me and the whole school system the fuckers, so I have been a little stressed bunny planning planning planning lessons and documenting all the shit to my little heart out. Fuckem all I say, at the private school we don't care about democracy and as far as I can tell, nor do we care much (nor the parents) if they get crap grades or not – el spade is called el spade and it's not the teachers' fault if he's a dumb shit and if he don't like it he can leave or we'll chuck him out (but who does that to a fee payer, remember to be real). But if they are chewing gum, or have an untucked in shirt or don't bring their stuff – detention. Screw the Germans, screw school, screw them all.

Bern says I can't chuck it in as that's fleeing. Flee I say Flee like the wind!

The new school have already sounded me out to do a maternity placement as of January in history. Then I'd be full time and be responsible for only half a year. It’s very attractive.

Here are the problems:

Haven't been there long enough to know if they are evil yet. So far I like it (easy teaching, 3 kids per class, no discipline, lovely grounds, they like me). I would have to leave my school midyear. My school would have to find an English speaking computing, history and geography teacher in two months. I am class teacher – this is meant to be for a year to offer stability to the kids. I would dump them midyear. I have developed my volunteering and Poland projects at school – these would die deaths without me. Finally, I might not get a good reference if I left midyear, but then the writer would be either in German or from my demi-boss and she can't exactly be trusted to write a good one anyway as she feels no-one should ever quit. Oh no, that wasn't the end – finally, really, I recently learnt that because of the cutbacks in Berlin, any job where a teacher quits can't be replaced by new teachers (the position dies). Only an already employed teacher underemployed elsewhere in Berlin can have the job (how many English speakers I wonder are in that boat here in Berlin schools, ready to jump in and do my subjects?). So that's that. Have I said that in 5 years of teaching here only once have I ever had someone say 'excellent lesson' and that was at the private school (as in my lessons in Australia)? Nuh? They are very critical of my lack of structure and of my style. AAAAAAAAAAAAGh!

So that's been me. Occasionally reading your mail, no green and working or stressing. Fuckem all!

Tomorrow I get a vist from an old friend (lesbo, we came out together when we were flatmates back in uni days at NSW Uni). If she rings and turns up. Today was a bbq in the park justified as the last of the summer. Now I'm back at the computer about to do more lesson plans. Beam me up will ya Dorothy?

It's funny you should mention that about Charlene as she is in fact Jewish. So no foreskins to be had. Alex is Russian so he can be done in New Orleans no trouble. Little buggers are graffittiing 'echidna kebab' on the blackboard when I enter and leave – ha de ha ha. I once showed them an echidna nature video on a substitute lesson in my kinder days.

Chris just emailed me – I must be forgiven! Isn't that funny as I have been thinking about it and how nice he was and how I turned. Remember, I wasn't bragging when I said I had called him stupid, I was confessing. I mean he WAS being very stupid but I agree with you completely. It was contemptible. So he can forgive me any day. I wish he'd fucked me though, the dumb bitch. But I can't agree with you about upon whom it tells when someone falls asleep up your arse – I'm afraid it's lack of interest fudgestirring-wise if you ask me and there must be a Woman's Day article about keeping hubby interested 'down there' when he's on war leave. If there's not, I'll get me Mum onto it. I see galvanised iron rain water tanks, rusty patches, blood stains on parachute nylon stockings drying on the Hills Hoists across the nation and why oh why can't I buck back on the lips of every housewife before the Indonesians have finished having their ways. But this, Meryl is the spirit that made this great fish and chips and chickito rolls nation what it is today – Kokoda trail, Galipoli and the whole lot of it. It's all bucking back, doll, that's all it is. Just let rip and don't mind about the sheets.

Tom – well fuck. She still can grab attention. Fuck man! I mean well Jesus. I am of course sending what thoughts I can for someone who doesn't believe in it all, FOR HIM TO GET BETTER. What a minx in the old hospital stakes she is. I don't want him to be sick or to get sicker. Strength Christian Fletcher and humour. Come on Tommy (not that it's in his control). C'mon...

Talking about Reg then is lacklustre compared to that but I will email her. She should have scraped the shekels together and kept coming over here, but no... I'll see what I can do.

OK, still digesting the Tom thing so I'd better go and tippy tap away with these butsaving things (that will probably be never read as I will be simply prosecuted but it's better to have em all up the old sleeve anyway). What do you think? Should I just go and work in the private school (I'd be giving up a permanent job to do so, but so what?)?

I remain yours, no matter,

Bob Aboriginal and Torres Straits Islander no Fish and Chips Shops in Tasmania O'Cunt (Josh)

PS Emilio rang last night at 12. He might or might not come but apparently can't wait to get his hands on me. I similarly have such plans (biggest cock I have ever experienced) but wish he'd just pay his ticket and get here at Xmas. Joshua-Mole

Listen to Missy Purr

Geelong lost the football to Sydney, in a game they led in all the way through, only to be beaten in the last few minutes of the last quarter. Finals fever has hit Melbourne. Geelong and St Kilda were the only Victorian teams left, great hopes were pinned to their backs.

SMS. 13.15. Go the cats! – Christian

SMS. 13.59. Yeah right – Leah

I’ve just got home from mums.

I just signed on to gaydar, there were 666 people signed-on in Vic. Wasted far too much time on that nonsense.

I polished off the rest of the dope… wondered about getting some more and then decided that it would be a good time to dry out from this ridiculous THC madness roller-coaster I seem to continually send myself off on. Fucken hell, grow up Christian!

Watched TV on my own – Tim and Nicholas are down at Phillip Island – and went to bed at eleven, when I felt myself falling asleep on the couch.

I should have gone to work after mums and stayed till late. But I didn’t. Bugger. Silly me.

Missy purred.

A Cuppacheeney and Cake

I got up at 6.30am. I went to bed early last night, I guess that explains it. I stayed up. It is now light at that time in the morning. Cool, I thought.

Subject: Guess What????

You're going to think I’m such an idiot. I lost my keys on the way to work this morning. I was going through Victoria Gardens... and did my shoe laces up.... I remember putting my keys down and I didn't pick them back up... Will you be home tonight?

Tim

Subject: Guess What????

Yes, I'll be home tonight. But I'm going to see Tom at 6.30pm

Christian

Subject: 11.11

(M&L)

Hello

Christian

Subject: Guess What????

ok – will be home before then – thanks

Tim

Subject: 11.11

Hello to you dear chris chris…are you coming to Aby’s on Sunday afternoon and did you do anything about your car regos…

Mark

Subject: 11.11

I'm goude. Beck's away and I could be slack, except I have a mountain of work to do. Brrr!

Yes, yes, I am coming to Aby's, Sndy arvo.

I fixed up my car insurance last Saturday.

Are you still feeling tired?

Christian

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Greetings,

Fancy a cuppacheeney (as my nan used to say) and a sticky bun next sat arvo?

I will be in Melbourne on Saturday 17th September returning on a plane at 6pm. Need to see my fam in the morning but the arvo I am all yours??

Don’t have the Levine’s details but would be nice to see her too?

Leah

xx

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Group emails. Huh?

Christian

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Yeah get used to it! Are you around fletchy?

Leah

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Jill's swanning around Queensland, as only she could... can... does. Probably doing the cake shop circuit. She'll be home tonight

It will be nice to see ya.

Christian

Subject: Alma

Ah Nan... with her twinkly eyes and her smile as broad as Geeelong. Dear old Nan. There will never be a breed like hers again.

Christian

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Cool – can you forward this to Le Vine for me too. Cheers x

Leah

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Actually no. I don't have Rachel's email address at work.

Christian

Subject: Alma

Go the cats tonight – they are playing the swannies at the SCG and we are going! Will take me thermos AKA Betty and scream uncouthley AKA Betty too.

Leah

Subject: Alma

And you do it soooo well.

Christian

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

You could call her and be friendly x

Tim

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Actually, I left my mobile phone on my kitchen bench this morning, so I can't even give you her number.

Christian

Subject: Guess What??

will be home at around 5.30 – C u thenish ...... Tim

Subject: Guess What??

I was at work at 7.45 this morning, so I might be home around that time too. Maybe. But I got a mountain of work in front of me. Bugger!

Christian

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Hi,

I'll have you know that I am back now and yes I may have had a cake or two on my travels.

Love to catch up on the arvo of Sat 17th - when are you free.

And what's this about 'group email' it only went to two of us!

Regards,

Jill

Subject: coming down for afternoon tea

Give old slack pants in Sydney Rachel's email address, will you?

PS I just ate a neenish tart. yum.

Christian

Subject: Guess What??

That’s ok – I will wait – I have to go get a haircut at 6.... Oh god – I am so hung over!!

Tim

Subject: me smoking?

Doris,

I have now changed my password. It now says poofter. Just in case I forgot.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with the lovely Alex and the lovely Charlene from the evil Yr 9 'about class'. I gather already the little $@%§§'#! wish to complain about my teaching. I don't like them and would like you to kill them please? I will have to watch myself and not say brat, spoilt or lazy. These are words I will not say. They shall not be said. Not by me. I shall have open ears and be a saint. Yr 9 you understand, flexing their muscles. Making the teacher run through the hoops. I shall be lovely. What shall I say? I shall continue to keep offering topical and structured lessons about Development and the topics in the curriculum framework. I will not say screw you, you dumb stupid fatuous juvenile. That would not be appropriate. That would get me into trouble. That would not be pedagogical.

You were lovely when I was there. Don't listen to anybody. For God's sakes you had just gone on holidays after slogging for a year with corporate types. You were a doll, doll. Don't listen to what everybody SAIYS. They're a bunch of moles.

I was thinking about that lovely Sebastian and his South Tyrolese friends. Is he still there? Is he back in Italy (South Tyrol?). If so, could I have his email address as I would quite like to visit him and his sexy big thick farmer buddies up the valley? It's known as a lovely spot to be in, in late Autumn, but similarly in Spring, Summer or Winter (no way). And so are they. Has anybody done him yet? We are yet to know.

Now, as I recall, NO reaction to Emilio coming. NAS. No sausages were had. Is this because you are insanely jealous, blithely disinterested, sublimely on another plane? How lovely for me, I would have thought, Italian-Australian sausage, home-delivered, mind. How nice. How lovely. But no. Not a sausage, doesn't care, might as well be dead. Cares if you live or die, fat or thin. Who?

No-one.

FOT.

So that's December sorted – cuddling up with Emilio hee hee hee. I have promised him only grown up things and no hearts. Well, a little bit – it's got to be worthwhile after all. But imagine little me crushed by enthusiastic Winter-wrapped-up Calabresi. I know I am. He rings from time to time. Shall I shack up and relocate to Ascot Vale? Lordy.

How's that Tom slag? I hope them docs aren't getting intimidated and running around like rats. After all, the man's a drug addict (puts on Lukey-tone), string 'em up. No, I hope he's well and looking less frankensteinian and less guilt-trippy minxy, but then, that's his job in hospital, heh?

How is your Manny? Still dumb? Mine (Ed note – Chris) is and I insulted him badly when my ball was blowing up and he hasn't emailed me since. Not the once. I scarcely deserve it. I let him have it. I used the word stupid. Ouch… Still, that was years coming, I suppose and the man did fall asleep rooting me – one never forgets, Dorothy, one never forgets. Now however I only have lovely thoughts.

How is the Reg? I could do with her email address too so we can be buddies. She may turn up after all. I had Jane (Sydney rate) here and that was grrrrreat, and maybe some others will turn up also shortly. I like it when they come. Makes me feel warm inside.

Christ I'm tired. I started at the new school (squirrels, appletrees, manor house, 3 kids 6 kids per class) and have been preparing material for the 23 lessons I have in total per week. I'd personally prefer to get smashed but there you are. I am babysitting for friends on Fridy and tomorra I will see my gardening friend – I have been avoiding him. He makes me feel guilty about the whole thing so I want to write him off. Not so good. So tomorrow night I will be good and say nice things. Emilio thinks have no faults by the way – so I must keep him on the books, final reckoning days, you know. I can hardly turn to you lot, nasty pack of vipers that ever there was. Except for you of course. You're practically uncircumcised. There is a Serbo-Bosnian Angelo in the other school's class by the way...

I have the kids doing translations of German copyright law at the moment while I scrim scram to you. I hope they come up with some operational parametres for our website unit because I'm no expert. But they are a fine bunch – they will do almost anything. Unlike Yr 9...

But Yorick, I must anon. May you fall in love daily on the way to work. May everybody love you. May you have fun, repeatedly. At lovely Bolago.

I remain yours then,

Margot (Maggot)

Subject: Me smoking? Only after Emilio has been to visit.

Mags

Powers for good. Powers for good. Two spooky things just happened. As my emails began to download, I said, Come on Josh and almost at the very same time, can’t be sure me chronometer is busted, down popped your name.

And then, I decided to make notes of your email, as I read and I started with Mags, before I saw how you had signed off. So how’s that?

I’ll take care of Alex, if he’s a boy, but you’re on your own with Charlene. A bag over Alex’s head, into a waiting taxi and swept away to a cargo ship headed for, um, let’s say New Orleans. (Gaza in a skull-cap?) We’ll have that foreskin stretched over the hole in the levee in no time. (Brings new meaning to Down on the levee) Never known a good Charlene, wouldn’t be willing to tackle one.

You’d better start practising with your Saint act, my dear. How long before the lynching? (That would be your lynching and not theirs, you understand)

Emilio? Um? Er? I’m going with sublimely on another plane. He thinks you have no faults? Slap me knee and call him Ruby. Who’s dumb? At them gates, them gates, them red gates, Emilio will do his speech and then there will be a momentary silence, followed by ten people clearing their throats ready to speak. Keep him on tap, if you must, but not a chance, babe!

Send Serbo-Bosnian Angelo to me smartly, thank you very much!

Now, I was off to see Tom, hippy hop, skipity, skip, but he has delayed me by an hour, doesn’t like the visitors to pile up. He likes to spread them evenly… um… so to speak. Which, natch, has forced me to have a kill-time-joint and now if I get pulled over, in this police state and get done, it will be all Tom’s fault. I do hope he is pleased with himself.

I’m meeting Reg there. Tom grumbled because we’d gone ahead and organised a double visit without his knowledge. I protested, as we discussed it only two nights ago. He had had 40 mills… litres… ecopascols… clearly I have no idea… of morphine before I go on the blower, to be sure. Never the less, it was discussed.

Reg’s email address - Abyaustin@yahoo.com

So now I’m off. I’ll answer your many and varied questions when I get back.

Sometime later… actually, many hours later. Reg and I were told not to carry on private conversations while we were visiting. But, I did stir Tom up, when I got there, by saying that we are only meeting there because it was half way between our houses, before we headed off and do something fabulous. Oh yes, my sweet, I know which buttons to push with young Tom. He got cross and Reg and I felt so “told” that we dared not to speak, with each other, after that. So my humour was a tad counter-productive.

Tom is probably going to be in hospital for another four weeks, at least, for his bleeding bladder. He thought that the further away from the transplant he got, the better the chance of him not getting Graft vs Hosts disease, but apparently, some people get it at six months, some at twelve months and some at two years. Whatever organ it effects, whatever that organ does, that is what he will get. So if it attacks his liver, he could be yellow for a couple of months, as well as suffering liver disease. If it attacks his heart he dies. He has just had tests to see if there are any cancer cells in his bone marrow. It takes two weeks for the results and it either means he lives or he dies. Tom described the feeling of being at the point of finding out if he lives or dies as surreal, like there was this thing going on around him and he felt calm and detached, at the eye. Or maybe that’s how I felt about it.

So, as you can understand, with all of that to contend with, he’s a little stressed.

Aby, on the other hand, is leaving for New York on Monday, as her film has been accepted into a film festival there. She’s going for a month, so you will understand that she is excited.

The lovely Sebastian is back up at Bolago. I haven’t been up, wasting opportunities to see him. We went out for dinner last week. He said he enjoyed it, but he’s back early, surely? – I think I do need to take me pot smoking in hand… time for another joint. Don’t mind if I do. Indeed.

My second joint is kicking in. I thought I was going to knock this off tonight, but I’m slowing. I can feel it in my brain. Half speed. Bring her back to Warp 1. Captain requests permission to land.

I’m letting Manny go. I’m not calling him. He called the other night, first time I’d spoken to him in a week. I can hear it in his voice, he sounds sad. But…

Manny said he met an Italian gay boy at the gym. Vince. He has a twin gay brother. He’s been calling. I told Manny that Vince sounds fantastic – secretly thinking that I certainly wouldn’t be having anything to do with me if I had one of identical Italian twins panting after me…

(Ed note – reading back over this, September 2008, as I prepare it for my retrospective blog – He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned’s worst fear –Manny split up with me, July 2007, because he had met someone named Vince. I know the Vince above, he’s a friend of David’s... some two years after this date. Interesting? I don’t remember Vince at this time. Manny could have kept it from me for two years, he is capable.)

The one I suspect is smart, Dean, with the wog-boy looks and beautiful uncut cock, goes to Canada in a week. And we never talk, anyway, so what does it matter how smart he is. Besides, he’s a beginner sexually and I want one already trained.

So that about covers the men.

Heads fuzzy. Eye lids are heavy. Thick head.

Now I’m chocking on the Mary-Jane smoke. Do you ever do that?

So you used stupid on your Chris… how nice. Not an indicator of sophistication or intelligence. Picking on dumb animals, it is beneath you. Some may even say it cruel. I, myself, would say… pick on someone your own size, if you must, my luv. Some may say that if someone fell asleep up your arse, it may be more of a comment on you and your arse and not so much a comment on him, so move on with that one.

I’m off to see my mother in the morning, quite possibly work in the afternoon. And then Aby’s farewell on Sundy.

Bugger, I just kicked the cat.

And on that note Mildred, I’ll say bonie noté.

Christian 

Sunshine world

The sun shone against my closed eye lids and my world turned orange.

I squeezed my eye lids together, like compressing grapes and it turned purple.

I held my lids together lightly and pointed my face to the sun and my world turned yellow, the colour of spring light.

I rubbed my eyes with my hands and my world pooled with ever changing shadows, floating like oil in water.

I opened my eyes and the day was, momentarily, misty and bright.

I love the sun on my face. I closed my eyes and considered sleep.

I'll Bring the Staple Gun, You Bring the Hottie...

 

Subject: perhaps i am be a genius

Of course, I'm replacing thoughts of blow jobs on hot American boys... with Rob... too... er... wrong answer. Um?

6ish may be a little early for me, maybe 6.30ish.

2ish is good on Sndy though.

Oh yes, "vault stories" and Tom. Did I every relay Tom's story about the iv douche bag of blood and the staple gun? (Grimace)

Perhaps, Dennis Hopper, the nitrus back-pack and a baseball cat... er... actually, I like that visual better.

Christian

Subject: Perhaps i am be a genius

teehee

6.30 it tis i'll bring the staple gun, you bring the hottie, if you can’t find one at such short notice we'll use Rob, and well Tom can bring the blood.

until then you simply MUST relay Tom's vault story, so we can wack it in hansel and gretal perhaps?

Aby

Subject: 11.11

(M&L)

Hello

Christian

Subject: 11.11

Hello my cri cri…how are you on this fine day…why won't you now…come out and play…with me and P and many trees…that we are cutting….end pome…Love Mark

Subject: 11.11

I'm on my way... keep the chain-saw warm... don't delay... I'll be there before morn.

Christian

Went to bed early. Love my bed. Yes, I do. No where better. It's mine and I can crawl into it away from anything. Pull the doona over my head, like a shield of steal. Just melt into it's feathery hues. Hunker down. Nothing can harm me now. Safest place I know.