True Blood

Australia's Ryan Kwanten is setting pulses racing in the US with his mostly naked role in America's hot new vampire TV series.

The New York Times calls Kwanten's character a "strapping, dimwitted Casanova" while the Washington Post describes him as "the randiest non-vampire in the area".

"He does wear clothes, but he takes them off a lot," True Blood's creator, Alan Ball, who also created Six Feet Under and wrote the script for 2000 best picture Oscar winner, American Beauty, laughed during an interview with AAP.

His character is sexually compulsive. He gets his self-esteem and his sense of who he is from the sex he has.

Just Going out for Smokes

I had to go and buy cigarettes. I certainly wanted another joint, if not a smoke. I'm giving up tomorrow, so it'll be okay. I looked up at the clock, it was 23.45, the local shop would be closed.

"A quarter to twelve," I said. "Ah well." I might as well drop by Club 80 - for those not from Melbourne, that's a sex on premises venue. World famous - to get the cigarettes. It will be open.

I got my traditional lemon squash, upon entering. Once, it was coffee, always coffee. I'm not sure when, or why, I made the change.

The place was deserted, two and a half trolls. After midnight on a Monday, not its peek time. Although, I've met some of the great loves of my life, at this very establishment, on an off night.

Things did look up; good things to those who wait. Blue bonds T-shirt, jeans, stocky, muscled. Liam, 40 something, nice developed chest, good kisser, handsome. He was nice to kiss. Keen. Soft, firm lips. I liked it a lot. After a while he leant back against the wall.

"Do you want to have a break?" I asked.

"You've only just got here, haven't you?" he said. He laughed.

"Yes," I said.

"Yeah, raring to go," said Liam. "I'm four hours in..."

Back out on the trail, same two and a half trolls, sniffing at me every time they walked passed.

Enter, twenty something, lean, muscley, blue singlet, army pants. I thought too young and rested my head against the wooden crating. Hunch back troll came so close I could smell the sourness of his breath on each, sensuous, exhale.

"The alternative, I presume," I said and realised, at the same time. I pulled away from troll breath, which floated away like a spirit, looking back occasionally, into the dark. I didn't want to be there all night. "Looks like it's you kid."

I headed in the opposite direction to Kwasi.

Peter, the kid in the singlet, could suck cock like no one else I've ever known. The kids a genius, or a freak. He took it into his mouth and then he seemed to take it down his throat and then, I don't know what he did, short of dislocating his jaw, but FUCK ME! The knob of my cock was in his oesophagus, I tell you no lie. It felt like, I would imagine what it would feel like, to be swallowed whole by a boa constrictor. The kids unnaturally gifted.

We did it standing up in the dark, pashing against the wall. Nice cock. Cute face. Kiss them while I've got their hard-on in my hand, one of my favourite positions. He suddenly stood sideways and gulped for breath, chocked and then wailed, as his legs shook below him.

He looked at me and smiled, wanly.

"I wasn't going to leave until I had that," he said. "The last guy kept me on the brink. Grrr! Thanks. That was great!"

I walked down to the front desk with Peter.

"How's your day?"

"Day off..."

"Me too."

I resisted the urge to talk about phone numbers.

He turned left out the doorway, I turned right.

Smith Street was deserted. Not a sound, but my footsteps, echoing on the concrete. It's when I know I'm a city boy, through and through. 2am Tuesday, the roads are deserted, the street lights reflect on empty footpaths and everything looks just fine. 

Roosters

This Doesn't Look Good

It's my brother Will's birthday. I'm sure I can forget that without a shred of guilt.

I came home, last night, to Mark W. sitting in my lounge room with Shane sobbing, inconsolably, in his lap.

Hello, I thought, as I struggled through the back door with my bags. This doesn't look good.

Shane had split up from Matt. Mark W. looked scared, and as smart and as beautiful as he is, was completely useless. Shane had been crying for hours, with Mark W. sitting by silent. (No, it's not enough just to turn up, Mark, I thought.)

I took Shane's hand and told him that that was a bastard. Poor baby. "What a fuck!"

Shane cried and cried, as though he was never going to stop. I rubbed his hand. Jesus, what do I say? You know the drill, luv, when in doubt, just keep talking. So I did.

"Well, there is only one thing that will fix this now?" I said.

"Vodka," sobbed Shane questioningly.

"I think by the look of it, Mr Vodka has already come to visit," I said.

"Valium," Shane questioned further.

When you are unsure of what to do, it's always best to go back to the classics. That's what I've always said.

"No, luv. What you need is a good cup of tea."

Shane laughed through his tears and looked up for the first time. "You might be right." He sat up and wiped his eyes. He looked up at me and tried to focus.

"How many valium are we up to?" I asked.

"Two," said Shane. "Three."

"I see."

"Oh my head," he said. "Actually, it's good to sit up." He tried to focus. He smiled crookedly, looking like a ten year old boy, who's just fallen off his bike. "Yes, tea would be good. Thanks."

Mark W. continued to look angelic in the far corner of the couch. Silent, but angelic.

Well, he'd stopped crying and was sitting up and taking notice.

"Tea Mark?"

"Yes, please," said Mark. He didn't look scared any more. In fact, he kind of looked impressed.

Shane went to the toilet. I pushed the button on the kettle.

"I didn't know what to say," said Mark. "For hours." He smiled brittlely. "I would never have thought of tea."

"Wing and I prayer, mate," I said. "Wing and a prayer."

Weekend football

This is Just a Test

Attention everybody, this is a test. Please don't be alarmed, as this is only a test. Please take no notice of the men in the white suits now moving amongst you, as they are only performing routine maintenance.

The breathing apparatus, they are wearing, is only for test purposes, do not be alarmed. The mist sprays are not injurious to your health, they are just routine. Please conform to any requests they may have. Please stay calm. Please do not panic. This is just a test.

Should anyone experience breathing difficulty, please proceed directly to the medical area as indicated by the HASMAT indicators. There are medical staff on hand should anyone experience any discomfort. Ambulances are on standby. This is just a test, do not be alarmed. This is just a test.

Please take note, nobody will be allowed to leave the building, as the exits have been sealed. This is just a test. Security officers are on hand to ensure everybody complies with this request. Please remain at your work station. This is just a test.

Cristiano Ronaldo

Off to the Country

Off to Bolago for a function on Saturday night. Mark's realised that I am now available to help with the set-up. Damn! I just want to arrive and work, I don't want to do the prep. Mark leaves it all to the last minute and then gets super stressed getting it all finished on time and now I'm going to be a part of that process. Yay!

So, there you go. Packing my stuff into the GTI, as I type.

Wave me goodbye.

 

Do you think Cristiano has a woodie?

Not As Lovely As Yesterday

Thursday morning and grey skies and no sunshine. It was beautiful yesterday, a day I barely went out into. Blue skies, sunshine.

I actually have to go and do something, goodness me. I have to take my mum to the dentist. It's a new dentist, for her. "Oh darling, can you just come and drive me the first time," said Lottie. "I'll be fine, after that, when I go next."

I slept in, not up at my usual 8am, got to rush now. I'm still feeling like my times not my own and that I, really, should be doing something. Funny. I guess it takes a little while longer, yet.

Mark called last night and said, "Can you please come up and give me a hand?" There's a function on this weekend, at which I am working - ah, back to work, the work I want to, actually, go to.

Mark gets behind, panics and then does everything at full speed to get the job completed. He's'e exhausted by the end. His time management skills could do with a little honing, I guess that is the legacy of always working for himself.

Mark's always been able to do as he pleases. I'm just getting used to it.

It still feels like it is going to stop and somebody is going to take it away from me. Anyway, I was just about to leave, when the door bell sounded. Bring!

Max just came around for the money for the weekend. "No rest for the wicked," he said. He flashed his trademark smile.

"So, what did you do over the weekend?" I asked, more out of politeness than interest. "I didn't see you out."

"Nah, didn't go any where," said Max. "I need to up my wickedness, just a bit." He looked away. "But, when I deal with everyone's um, shall we say requirements, all week, sometimes I just don't feel much like partying with them, after that." He looked back. "I partied with Scott. Just me and him. Low key, you know." Then he hoped into his double-parked SRI, it looked like a new one, and left.

Okay... I would have liked the sun shining and the skies blue, thank you universe. And it to be half an hour ago. However... gotta go... I've done my usual trick of calculating my leaving home time and arriving time, at Lotties, with no travelling time structured in. It doesn't matter with friends for dinner, but this is a fucking appointment. Go to really fucking go!

And then... crampy pain. Oh, what? Why? Stronger crampy pain. What? No! What day are we on? Really strong crampy pain. OH! NO! NO! Not now. I rush to the toilet. Diarrhoea! A river of brown... well, you know what it is. There's a thing. I always get it, roughly three days afterwards. It's pretty normal, even if it's timing is really rather way off.

Is Johnanthan trying to tell us something?... Shane

Virgo
New routines are always a little nerve-racking. That's why most of us prefer, by and large, to stick with the old ones. They may not be very satisfactory; they may even create problems, but at least we know how they go. You were born blessed with great courage. When necessary, you can also show phenomenal self-restraint. You have been keeping yourself in check for some while now, resisting the urge to interfere with a process that is clearly less than ideal. Now, though, it's time to instigate a change.

Who cares if no one wants to do it with Mohammed, perhaps Jesus is just the bigger spunk

Ed note – we all know that Jesus is the pretty one, the pin-up boy of the spiritual world and that Mohammed is the ugly one, why else can't he be depicted in image?

So which one would you like to see with an erection?

An art gallery in Britain which exhibited a statue of Jesus Christ with an erection has been taken to court by a devout Christian who says she is offended by the work and argued that the gallery would "not have dared" to portray Mohammed, let alone in that way.

The artwork was part of an exhibition at Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art in Gateshead, near the northeastern city of Newcastle, which featured dozens of plaster figures including Mickey Mouse, ET, and Jesus – all with erections.

The items were shown in a presentation a year ago of works by controversial Chinese artist Terence Koh.

Signs warning of the exhibition's content were posted at the entrance to the gallery, which was sued at Gateshead Magistrates Court for a breach of Section 5 of the Public Order Act and offending public decency.

Lawyers for Emily Mapfuwa, a 40-year-old Christian who said she was offended by the artwork, prosecuted the gallery for outraging public decency and causing harassment alarm and distress to the public.

(ed note – causing harassment, alarm and distress to... one person, apparently)

Mapfuwa argued that, given the public sensitivities over the issue, the gallery would not have dared to depict Mohammed, let alone in such a way.

(ed note – who cares how they may, or may not, have portrayed Mohammed, we are talking about a statue of Jesus)

Mapfuwa said she believed in freedom of expression, but was of the opinion that "this statue served no other purpose than to offend Christians and to denigrate Christ."

(Ed note – as is so often the case with God Botherers, freedom of expression is okay, as long as it is not in conflict with thousands of years of mythical beliefs)

The maximum penalty would be six months in prison and a fine of 5,000 pounds ($A10,596).

However, opening procedures faltered on a legal technicality Tuesday and the case was adjourned until September 23.

Ninemsn 03.09.2008

Ed note – Live your lives people and leave the rest of us alone. Concentrate on how you live your lives and stop trying to influence the rest of us, who don't believe in your two thousand year old nonsense.

Cancel Everything

I cancelled everything, yesterday. Play, Cat on a hot Tin Roof, dinner. Smoked pot with Shane and Matt. We were all on our lap-tops, for a while, as the teev droned on with its boring programming. A double episode of Burn Notice. Spoil us. (Even if Mr Burn Notice is hot) Click, click, click, x3, go the keys. All you could hear, between the crackles of the burning logs. I curled in front of the open fire and stared mindlessly at the teev, for the most part.

Think I might just do the same today.

I'm lovin' this time off sick!

Bleeding planet

The Tasty Party

I feel kind of fine. My body clock is a little off, hence being up at 6am. I couldn't remember what day it was, as I ground coffee beans, this morning. Who cares, I thought. The house is a mess; we must have used every cup, plate and dish, strangely, as none of us have eaten much since Saturday morning. Actually, Shane made us half avocados with vinaigrette and some gorgeous chicken soup, at some stage when we were up floating like zombies around the house, somewhere around midnight.

We went to the Tasty Party, Saturday night. We partied until 4am, took all the party specials, Max was certainly prepared when he said he'd take care of us. Pretty boys. Good music. I had fun.

The first time I locked onto the time was when Luke said, "The bar is closing, do you want a last drink?"

It all went so fast.

Weekend football

Jack and The Bean Stalk

We’d been out dancing. Max and Lachlan and me and Buck and Jack.

It was really early Sunday morning, the sun was threatening to come up, but hadn’t yet.

I’d made tea. Lachlan was rolling joints. Buck was showing Jack his new iMac.

Jack, actually, has the perfect set of genes for me. Italian. His real name is Giacomo, but he’s known as Jack. Buck calls him Jack-off, I guess for obvious reasons.

Jack has thick, black hair. And the perfect bulge in the front of his jeans. I don't think about him that way, I never have. He's been a friend for too long, not to mention now being Buck's boyfriend. You would have thought that I'd have been attracted to him from the moment I met him? But I didn't. I never have, actually. He's always been a friend, a lovely friend, or someone's boyfriend. First, he was Con’s boyfriend, and then Bucks, kind of unexpectedly.

That has changed lately, yesterday and the last time I was on drugs, something happened in my brain. Yes, the last two times. Suddenly, out of the blue, for no apparent reason, I've tuned into the Jack's, er, sexiness. Yes, like all good Italian boys, he packs a great pants bulge. Like an inverted triangle; the very tip is attached at his arse and the rest just flows out into the full bloom of something beautiful. Bumping out, creasing in the middle at the bend in his bulge; lying sideways, coiled perfectly to the left.

Kissed until they are ten, packed, and checked daily by their mothers until they are sixteen. With all that love and all that nurturing, how can they not turn out to be the prettiest peckers ever.

We were in jangly, jitter, post party morning; we were operating in staccato; strobe was the mood – big eyes, broken movements, short sentences. I was sitting on the floor with my elbows on the coffee table. Buck and Jack were on the couch opposite, playing with the iMac. Jack was sitting level with my eye height. Buck and Jack were chatting together, lost in each other's company and new technology. I was drifting, listening to music; quiet, subdued, really patchy. I think I had the twitches. I was facing Jack directly. I was just naturally looking at his lap, they were the levels we just happened to be at.

Naturally, Buck has told me about Jack's dick. Big, thick, uncut. A monster, from all accounts. "Well, a beautiful monster," said Buck.

Nice and full, like a fist, pushed out, packed, pulsing. Or was I pulsing? I was looking before I even knew that I was. Gazing off into the distance before I focussed in on it, without ever meaning to. Just pulling my eyes from out of focus into focus and that’s where I just happened to be looking. Something beautiful, I couldn't help but look. I was drinking it in. There was something solid and tubular, thick, seemingly straining, a little, at the wrap of the denim. He's got nice, thick thighs to frame it.

Jack fills his jeans, mighty fine. I gazed at him, bulging out, freely.

Max and Lachlan came back. I barely remember them. Oh, messy, I admit. Really out of it. I think my third was kicking in. I sat up and tried to talk, but it was difficult. I just felt like lying still and letting the moment wash over me. Lachlan and Jack were rolling joints. The joints seemed to be coming from all directions.

I glance at Jack. He was looking at the iMac screen, smoking. His eyes darted away from my glance, as I looked up. He glanced back, smiling. He looked away. Oh, yes. I see, I thought. You've noticed me looking.

Oops. But then, you know, my drug addled brain kicked in and where I went to look away, somehow in the next second I’d forgotten not to look.

Buck was in explanation mode, in Jack's ear.

Jack was smiling, coyly. Blushing. He spread his legs to push forward – I’m gazing at his package, and then it moves and then slides towards me. I’m pretty sure his cock was pointing upwards, to his face. I can see the outline of the big vein that runs underneath, pushing up into the denim of his jeans. – to give the joint to Lachlan. But Lachlan doesn't respond.

"So, who... " said Jack.

I look up to see him looking over at me. As our eyes meet, Jack laughs, kind of self-conscious. Tries to subdue the smile. I take the smoke, he goes back to Buck. Jack glances back at me, he is blushing, and then he looks away.

I keep my gaze on his face, to see what he is looking at. He keeps sneaking looks at me. Smiling. Turned on, just the smallest bit, maybe, I don’t really know, of course. He was twitchy. And distracted.

He looked at me. He looked again. He glanced for a third time, to see me catch him looking again. He smiled. He looked back at the iMac.

He looked. He looked again. He waited a moment, then he looked again. The cheeky smile staid on his face.

"Jack?" I said. He looked instantly. I hold the joint out to him. He stopped smiling and took the joint.

"Thanks."

I sit back down on the floor and rested my head in my hands, with my elbows on the coffee table. I exhaled deeply. Jack glanced down at me. I smiled and raised my eyebrows. He looked back at the iMac screen.

I'm exhausted. I wonder what time it is? I want to go to bed, but I can't summon the energy to head upstairs. Besides, I'm in the middle of obsessing about Jack. I usually obsess about someone when I'm on pills and powders, usually someone out, who I flirt with gently. It's never normally with friends, you just don’t do that. No, that never, normally, happens. But, there I am, obsessing about Jack. Not sure why? But there you go.

The TV is on. At some stage there was a Will & Grace DVD playing.

I close my eyes, it is peaceful, quiet. I wonder what I am doing? I should just go to bed.

Lachlan is laughing.

Max is telling a story.

I open my eyes up to Jack's legs. Up a fraction more. His legs are open to me, little Jack is pushing up against the denim. Quite a mound. A hand suddenly goes over Jack's bulge. Now, it looks like he is feeling himself up. It's hot. He seems to have the same thought at the same moment, and the hand disappears again.

Nobody can see me, except Jack, my hands are around my face. I followed the stitching through the middle of the pants, from underneath. Slid my eyes over the contours of his balls. Slid my tongue up his shaft. Sniffed his pubic hair. And what a nice Italian boy, is he, I thought.

I slid my eyes up to Jack's face. His eyes darted back to the iMac. He was wide-eyed. His face was intense. He was smiling broadly. He was blushing... flushing red.

He glanced back. Smiled, as he looked away.

Glanced back. Smiled, as he looked away.

Glanced back at me. The smile didn't come off his face.

He looked at me and made big eyes, quickly. He held my gaze, looked away beaming, despite himself.

I've never seen him look so handsome.

Max and Lachlan left. It must be time for me to go to bed, I thought. Time to stop.

I say good night, and leave Jack and Buck on the couch and go to bed.

 

Slow Down You Move Too Fast

I don't feel anything. I feel numb. It's like it has all just stopped, that very moment in musical chairs when the tune is shut off. That moment of silence when you are still racing, about to make a run for it.

Everything has stopped.

It's like my brain hasn't caught up yet. I still catch myself thinking I need to iron a shirt. Or, I think I shouldn't be sitting up watching The Late Show. I shouldn't be watching a movie in the afternoon. I still feel that anxiousness. I still feel as though there is something else I should be doing.

Total freedom makes me edgy.

I think it's because we are all taught to work for the future. We are trained to look to tomorrow and security. The govt even takes 9% because, even though we are going to slog our guts out all our lives, there is going to be no one to look after us when we need to have someone wipe the shit off our arses.

I can't relax, just yet. It's the silent scream.

Deep Sea Diving

Those Annoying Phone Calls

I've been getting a lot of those annoying phone calls, now that I'm home during the day; sales people, discount opportunities, time share, name a planet, buy gold, "This is your lucky day," who are as sunny as sunny, with their, Australian-as-apple-pie, speak.

Usually, I just ignore them - yes, I do screen calls - and the answering machine kicks in but there is no message left. Lately, I've answered a few.

Too the last girl, I spoke to yesterday afternoon, "This is Jenny here from blah, blah and blah, how are you today, sir?" I said, quick as a flash, "You've just caught me masturbating here, so if my breathing changes that's all it will be. Please go on."

Click. Dial tone. Gone.

I looked at the receiver with disbelief. Smirk. Bingo, I thought. Big smile. Not so hard.

I Read Recently That If Jesse Metcalf Was Chocolate... We'd All Have Stained Brown Mouths

Just gorgeous

Jesse Metcalf reminds me of my old housemate Nicholas, more than a bit, to tell you the truth

Chocolate around the lips...

What's the Difference?

What's the difference between a Catholic priest and acne?

Acne waits until you are thirteen before it comes on your face.

 

I Want an iMac

Wednesday night, Shane was depressed about his birthday, the following day. He’d tried to organise a simple dinner, but soon realised that he still can’t put Mark W and Matt together in the same room. They don't play well together. Mark W thinks Matt broke up his relationship with Shane. Matt thinks Mark W should go away, like a good ex-boyfriend. Mark W relented in the end, but Matt wasn't about to shift on the matter.

But it’s also about everyone having a good time, with everyone there because they want to be... not under sufferance. You might as well not try, even if they did both agree to attend.

In the end Shane decided that it was just too difficult. His birthday was ruined. Crap! That was how it felt to him, the birthday boy.

Mark W came over about 10.30 Thursday night, pissed and stoned. He drove to his place - I tried to object as he was drunk, but he insisted - and got us dope, when we told him we didn’t have any ourselves.

We took valium, washed down with red wine. We smoked pot. What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t put two words together, in the end. Then I passed out, as the Madonna DVD went on.

Yesterday, I took David to the airport to go to Hawaii. He's running another yoga retreat, on yet another tropical Island. He's going to Bali on another, in October. He went to Bali a few months ago. And when he's sick of Melbourne, he packs up and takes himself off to Port Douglas and does yoga on the beach, which always prove successful. I can understand when David looks me in the eye and says, I love my life.

I went to mums and mowed her lawn and ate pizza for lunch. She wanted me to go to the movies, but I burned her off on that idea. I came home and weeded the garden - anything as a distraction to writing, hey - and bought tickets for the Tasty party.

We went out for Shane’s birthday; me, Shane, Matt and Sebastian. We went to Anada first, but when they didn’t have a table, we went to Birdman Eating, which wasn't so good and then, when Anada called us to say a table was ready, we went there. We drank vodka and red wine and played with the waiter, Miguel, from Canada. He had a very handsome Clarke Kent look. We got him to take his glasses off, just to see how he looked - just to see if he turned into Superman. We'd consumed much alcohol by that stage. And then we got him to take them off again for the tip, just for the hell of it. Nice boy, very cute. Lovely, really.

Nick met us afterwards, Sebastian's boyfriend.

We came home and, after Sebastian and Nick left and Matt fell asleep on the couch, we played with Shane’s perfect-way-to-cheer-himself-up-when-all-your-friends-are-being-bitches, new iMac, as Matt slept on the couch.

All I can say is WOW! I SO want one!

We took photos. We made videos. We did Warhol portraits and roller-coaster rides. I wanted to wake Matt, filming it, as he crankily came back to reality, one of the things we do when we are pissed or stoned, and quite possibly bored, as Matt always falls asleep on the couch. We see how many times Shane can annoy him before he wakes and cracks it. Shane does the pestering, I laugh and clap. (Lucky that Matt is really good natured for an Italian) But Shane didn't want Matt used as a play toy, last night... for some reason.

Matt would have been fine, once he saw the new computer. He's as big a techno head as Shane. Matt runs an on-line business. He would have been instantly captivated.

We were only messing around with the iMac and the thing is amazing! Even the way it set up, really smooth.

White Dog

Conspiracy Theory

Barack Obama assignation attempt? Even the news bulletin, at the time, said that the seriousness was undetermined. Which seemed to say that it was a media beat up.

So, is this the right wing, through conservative ownership of news corporations, seeding the nuff nuff's out their, putting the idea into one of their heads. And now that it's out there... It's always the ends justify the means with conservative, right-wing thinkers.

The interviewed nuff nuff said it was because he didn't want a black man to run the united states... in a toothless, southern drawl. Give the demented the idea and watch them follow through.

Otherwise, why even give it air play? It can't just be for a headline, surely? It seemed like the biggest load of rubbish, not a credible threat, at all.

Lucky Pam

The Iron Lady

THE daughter of former prime minister Margaret Thatcher tells how her mother's dementia has left her struggling to remember the simplest facts in book extracts published in Britain today.

Carol Thatcher wrote that, on her worst days, her mother struggles to finish sentences, but shows occasional glimpses of her old self, particularly when talking about her time in Downing Street.

Just die you evil cow!

I wonder if she remembers "Section 28?" (Because the rest of us do)

For all the young gay kids who don't know, look it up to see the legacy this old bitch left.

Bloom

What Am I Doing?

Ah! What am I doing? I haven't written much. I haven't ridden my bike. I haven't stopped smoking. I haven't done all of those annoying things that I was going to get done once I had a little time. I've just been pissing around on the internet, for the most part. Ah!

Did you know there is a blog for selling ocean-going cargo ships?

Another morning is slipping away.

The sun is shining and the sky is blue and I can smell Spring in the air, yes I can.

OMG! I can waste time at the speed of sound.

And the worst part is that, right at the moment, unless I think about it, I don't really care.

I guess, I'm allowed to have some time off, of course. And I guess it is all just a part of winding down. It's drummed into us to achieve, achieve, achieve!...

Oh, big breath. Get some perspective. Put my feet up. Stop thinking. Stop. Just got to stop.

Perhaps, I might go back to bed?

Or maybe, as my mother used to say to me when I was a young boy, Why don't you sit down and write a story.

Labyrinth

Lovely Monday

Oh, what a beautiful morning, I thought, as I sat on my back veranda drinking my morning coffee, bathed in sunshine, gazing up at the blue sky, watching my cigarette smoke swirl around in the gentle breeze, reflected in the rays of light.

The start of a brand new week. I could get to like Mondays, I thought. Who'd have thought?

The lavender bushes have purple buds all over them, lined up along the fence running up the side of the court yard. They are like small, mauve, torpedoes, pointed to the sky, not fully formed. My lemon-scented Geranium has filled out just how I had hoped it would; bushy, filling the terracotta pot entirely. The leaves give off a pungent lemon smell, as I crush them between my finger tips. I brush my hand across my nostrils and breath in the taste of lemon acid drops. The cactus' leaves are pulled down by the weight of abundance of scarlet flowers, like ballerinas pirouetting in the breeze. Where, once, the white azalea used to bloom like a princess' bonnet, a sphere of delicate white petals, now grows a succulent, crimson on one side of its leaves and green on the other.

I watch the fish swim in the pond, dazzled by their orange scales, as the surface of the water fractures with the sun's light, like crystal reflecting orange facets, as the fish swim underneath.

The waterlilies have bloomed with buttercup yellow flowers, dotted amongst the green foliage.

Missy purrs loudly, as she reaches up to my leg with her paws. I reach over and pat her, feeling the sensuousness of her soft fur against the palm of my hand.

 

Bolt smolt... Asafa is mighty fine

What Exactly Is The Guy On The Right Looking At?

Asafa Powell

Sunday

The country was grand. Luke's back, he had a great time. "I can't believe how fucking cold it is, though," he said. He bought back some beautiful woven materials.

I had lunch at my sister's, with my family, Saturday. My sister lives in the country, the next town to Bolago. We tagged some lambs and put rings on their tails. We helped the little, sickly new borns, in the barn with their mothers for protection from the cold, drink from their mother's teets for the first time. We all hung over the pen walls, as my sister positioned the lambs correctly, as my brother in law held the mother. When the tractor was backed out and something was said about feed in the paddocks, I decided it was time to leave.

I drove back to the city this morning, to go bike riding with Charlie. I was nervous. We had coffee, instead. Of course, I didn't get his text message yesterday, confirming that we were still on, because Bolago has no reception. I didn't get it until I was driving out of the drive way this morning. He'd had a late night, so he didn't wake till midday. He came over in the afternoon. I stupidly made him sit out side in the cold, at the cafe, because, of course, I wanted to smoke. So I was cold rather than relaxed. Then he came back to my pace and we drank coffee and chatted. When he said he should go, I just stood up and said okay then. Stupidly. Just not thinking. You know when you regret something the moment you've done it. I should have said, you don't have to. He'd already said he wasn't doing anything tonight.

You're a Star

You're a star! You pulled off the highest scoring dive in Olympic history to win gold.
Congratulations!

It's amazing the homophobia that comes out at the very mention of an athlete being gay.

"What does his sexual orientation have to do with winning gold?"

"We don't report that athletes are heterosexual, so why would do we have to mention they are homosexual?"

"Who gives a damn about his sexual orientation."

"Matthew being gay is totally irrelevant to him winning gold! Why bring it up?"

It's still true, that most people would still like us to shut up about being gay, presumably so they can continue to be bigots unchecked.

Although, I did kind of like this comment...

"I just wanted to say the relevance of this athlete being openly gay is simply that nearly all countries involved in this Olympics would not send an openly gay athlete. In fact, there are approximately 85 countries that would send him to prison instead, and some countries where he would be executed. It is a wonderful opportunity for Matthew Mitcham to have such comfort and acceptance as he wins gold for our country, as well as setting a leading example to other countries that are not so accepting."

I'm sorry for straying off the point into gay rights. When the message should have simply been...

Go Matt. What a wonderful comeback. What a fantastic achievement.

Aw! Cute!

Jones said Milne would have been the initiator because "to try to make people feel uncomfortable" he often comes up from behind teammates and grabs their hands. Explained Jones: "Most blokes pull away but it seems Justin's quite happy there."

May 2005

The Men in My Life

I've got a date with Charlie, Sunday. Ha, ha. We're going to have lunch and then go bike riding along the Yarra. How sweet.

Luke comes home from Cambodia today. Yay! It'll be good to see him, it seems like he's been gone forever. I've missed him.

My brother is down from Brisbane. Who cares. Sad, but true. It's funny that I enjoy the company of men, but I don't enjoy the company of my brother. We could have been the best of mates, but, really, we can barely communicate with each other.

Can You Imagine These Boys in the Shower Together?

I can... Oh, I can... pass the soap

Thursday

 Subject: RE: Oi

(Rachel)

Yawn. Big stretch! What time is it? Still morning? Oh, good. 

“Oh there you are, you’re looking good,” he says, “as usual,” looking bleary-eyed at his computer screen.

So, what day is it?

He, he, he.

(christian)

Subject: Re: Oi

Good on ya 

(Rachel)

It rained all day. [2008] I guess that is what happens in winter, hey? Rain, rain. 

I took mum to the great Doctor Chu. The dementia doctor. I hope he is doing something for her. Hope is a good thing.

My sunroof leaked water into the car while we were seeing the doctor. Those drain holes block up so easily, good thing I keep the thing wire in my glovebox.

I went to Jill’s afterwards and we wrote together.

Our Sexiest Aussie Swimmer

Nice smile, Andrew

Andrew Lauterstein

Wednesday

I spent the day at home, writing emails and looking at dirty pictures. You know, as you do when you have all the time in the world.

Subject: Hello there

(Charlie)

Yawn. Big stretch! What time is it? Still morning? Oh, good. 

“Oh there you are, you’re looking good,” he says, “as usual,” looking bleary-eyed at his computer screen. 

So, what day is it? 

He, he, he. 

How about brunch on Sunday? 

(christian)

Subject: Hello there

Sunday is good. will sms to confirm on sat. 

I put on 3kg when I was in sg. more biking for you! and me! 

And yes, it is still Monday. not bad! Dun get it a habit.. ha haha 

Kind Regards

C(harlie) 

Subject: Oi

What are you doing? (you lazy good for nothing unemployed bum)

(Rachel)

How Cute is James Franco?

And Sean Penn gets to snog him in the up coming movie about Harvey Milk.

Would This Encourage You Not To Wear Fur?

Janice Dickinson with a handful

He Was My Favourite Baldwin Brother, Until...

"I don't believe that gay marriage is in line with God's Word, which is found in the Bible," Stephen Baldwin said. He became a born-again Christian after the attacks on New York on September 11th 2001.

(No one who is having a happy life becomes a born again Christian)

"So, what I think doesn't matter; what I believe is what's in the Bible and the Bible says that gay marriage is not acceptable."

His hard line stance contrasts sharply with his more famous actor brother Alec Baldwin.

(And note, the bible has been changed over the years to suit the political agenda of the times, for all of those people who claim it is the immutable word of god. I think references to homosexual were ever in the bible until the early 20th century)

British Louis Smith

Louis Smith, cute isn't he

Aussie Karmichael Hunt

As The Day Fades Away

It's amazing how much guilt I felt lying around in bed watching teev. I don't know how many times I thought I shouldn't be doing this. I guess it's going to take a little longer to wind down?

What did I do this morning? The day just seemed to rush away. I don't remember what I did? And I've only been smoking cigarettes, the registered brand name, you understand. I did wake with a head ache, which I battled all morning, I guess I should mention that. Mark is probably right when he asked me how much water I had been drinking. Usually, at work, I have a glass of water that I drink all day, in the last few days I haven't drunk any. Hence why I was in bed watching Will & Grace. I finally gave into the head ache, with an "Oh fuck it, you win, I'm going to lay my head down."

I remember what I did this morning, something I rarely do, I read my old blog from years passed. It wasn't bad either.

I emailed Charlie and, almost, organised a bike ride together, for the weekend. As long as I don't laugh, as he, inadvertently, bought a girl's bike - although, how you do that, I'm not sure. When I questioned him about it, he said it is a hybrid bike (I know not what that is?) and said that the girl's and boy's versions were practically the same thing. So, it's not a bike with a white, wicker basket and streamers out the handlebars, I'm assuming.

Subject: Hello there

Hey Charlie

Sorry about brunch, but I didn’t get home from the country until late. 

christian 

Subject: Hello there

no prob. 

glad you took full advantage of your first off-day. 

Kind Regards

E(ddie)

Subject: Hello there

How was your holiday?

After reviving the open fire, I’m just sitting here wondering what to do with myself.

christian

Subject: Hello there

hmmm 

Start writing? 

Or get a book ending with a word "... crisis"? 

lol 😝

Kind Regards

C(harlie)

Subject: Hello there

He he. 

I meant, I was wondering what I should do first. You know, time is now on my side. Should I stay home and write, should I go and ride my bike, should I… 

Decisions, decisions. 

Subject: Hello there

hahaha.. bike sounds fun 

I would do bike but getting the first step is the harddest... 

one you out of the door, you will feel better after 

otherwise, it will be the same thing day after day.. wondering and not doing anything.. hahaha 

Kind Regards

C(harlie)

Subject: Hello there

Yes, true. Get back into shape, after too long sitting down in an office. 

I’m aiming for an hour’s bike ride each morning, to start the day. Of course, I haven’t managed it for my first two days. Oh well. Tomorrow. 

(christian)

Subject: Hello there

i can join u next time. 

but dun laugh at my bike, cos I bought the wrong bike. I bought a woman one. 

Kind Regards

C(harlie)

Subject: Hello there

Come join me.

I wouldn’t laugh – not sure how you did that though?

We could ride along the Yarra bike paths together.

(christian)

Subject: Hello there

It was a hybrid bike... won’t be obvious...

the top bar was slightly down and not straight, which I thot all hybrid bikes are like that 

yarra paths are fun, i used to do it in the north side, havent done the south paths yet. 

Kind Regards

C(harlie)

Subject: Hello there

Well, we’ll have to do them.

(christian)

Subject: Hello there

kewl.. 

am ok to do brunch this sat or sun 

let me know 

Kind Regards

C(harlie)

I got up late, 9.30am, which is late for me, even on the weekends I'm up before 9am. I wrote my journal, my private and unpublished one, caught up four days. I watched porn and ate my muesli.

Busy Tuesday

The afternoon sky is grey and cloudy. The light is on soft focus.

I'm lying in bed, with a cup of tea, watching season 6 of Will & Grace.

Yes, it's all go, go, fucken go, here!

Two of the Best Looking Boys in the Game

Nice Smile, Good Heart

David asked me what I wanted in a boyfriend. I gave him a great, long list; thirty something, same height or shorter, wog boy, hairy chest, job, car, friends, sensitive nipples, foreskin...

Then I said, "Actually, scrap that. All I need is a nice smile and a good heart, everything else is optional."

David said, "Really? That's all you need."

"Yep, that's all I need."

David said he was impressed.

“And, perhaps, if he could do handstands on the beach, then well…” I joked.

We both laughed.

Sunday in The Country

Raymond & Jeff come to visit. So does LouLou. 

It’s lovely having people come to visit up in the country. This house just is that kind of house. We go for long walks in the forest. We eat good food and chat away.

Mark is unhappy about Luke, because he hasn’t heard from him since he waved him goodbye in Hanoi. A bit of a misery, really. Luke hasn’t made contact since he went to Cambodia, a few days ago.

I'm supposed to be having brunch with Charlie, today, in Fitzroy. He's been in Singapore, he got back Friday. He seemed keen before he left, saying he wanted to go out together on Sunday. He hasn't messaged me, though.

Should I call him? Should I wait for him? Or should I contact him?

I should pursue the friendship, standing back (one of my worst habits) never works, unless you are Ford Model ha ha, however you want to put it. Making friends from work, not something I do every day? Win him over? How do you do these things? Sitting back, rarely works, I know that. I think it's time to just take a step forward, have confidence.

Do you wanna come out and play? Kind of sounds like I’m back at school.

I'll see.

But, I am too comfortable deposited away in the country today.

Jane and Jay arrive late in the day, just before I head home to the city. I don’t really want to go, but I do.

In the Country

A rainy, old, country day. We went for walks with umbrellas and gumboots; fed the emus and saw how full the new lake is. I love those days in our bushland when the rain falls and the rest of the world seems so much further away. Tucked away in our forest, Mark and me.

We went into town and had lunch – we got dinner, when we were there. Neither of us felt like cooking. Then we put our feet up, in front of the open fire and watched the day drift by. It was TV until late, with the open fire burning. 

The Last Day

We had drinks, after work, for me and one of the other girls who was leaving, late in the afternoon. The CEO seemed, genuinely, pleased that I was going to return. All of my department said they'd miss after five years in the place, apparently, I'm the one who makes them all laugh. All the HR girls kissed me and said they'd be lost without me. They joked about calling me at home on Monday. The HR Director said she didn't know what she was going to do about all the knowledge, in my head, walking out the door. I blabbed about the writing I was going to do, sometimes I, just, can't keep my mouth shut. I always seem to have to tell everybody everything.

And then it was done. I left at 17.30, having only drank coke, as I wanted to drive to Bolago to see Mark, who got home at lunch time.

I thought I'd feel weird walking out the door for the last time, but I didn't. I guess it was the fact that I wasn't leaving for good, but just for a time. I was thinking more about driving to the country and seeing Mark.

I didn't feel the rush of freedom, as I thought I'd feel, I guess that will come.

Mark W., who is also on six months leave, said it took him 2 months to wind down. I hope it's not going to take me that long, but...

It rained all the way up the Calder, it was glorious to see. Pitter pat on my windscreen, washing the dust away. (I must get my intermittent wipers fixed, they have developed a mind of their own, of late)