Senator Guy Barnett

Tasmanian Liberal Senator Guy Barnett had intended to move a motion in the Senate on Tuesday to outlaw Medicare funding for abortions between 16 and 24 weeks.

However, the government and opposition agreed to send the motion off to be examined by a committee, delaying a conscience vote on it.

Senator Barnett welcomed the committee's involvement, saying it would help get more facts on the table.

"I intend to reintroduce my motion to disallow Medicare funding following the report of the Senate committee," he said.

Senator Barnett encouraged people to express their views to the Senate committee.

"It is important that the voice of the many Australians who are deeply concerned about this issue is heard."

Now, why would he do this? A concern for woman's health. A matter of physical policy? Or even, matching the outdated law to what happens in real life. I don't think so. Let's look, shall we...

Senator Guy Barnett's extremist religious views

Posted August 22nd, 2006

He’s only been a senator since 2002. But Guy Barnett is now one of the most visible backbenchers in the Australian government, and is widely regarded as a strong ministerial contender.

How did he climb so far, so fast?

Since he entered public life in 1994, arguing against decriminalisation of homosexuality in Tasmania, Guy Barnett’s main claim to fame has been the heterosexuals-only Marriage Act of 2004, which he recently followed up by organising for the ACT same-sex civil unions legislation to be crushed from above.

Parliamentary Convenor of the August 2006 ‘Australian Christian Heritage’ National Forum, Barnett’s interpretation of his Baptist faith brings a very particular emphasis to his political activism.

Greens Senator Sarah Hanson-Young said the motion would make it harder for women to access safe, equitable and legal late-term pregnancy terminations.

"Withdrawing Medicare funding for second-trimester terminations will not only affect women from economically disadvantaged backgrounds, but could also force women to have even later terminations, after being forced to cover the gap, as well as the original fee," Senator Hanson-Young said.

"Women have fought long and hard to be able to make decisions about their health and well being, and the Greens will not be supporting any attempt to turn back the clock on women's reproductive rights."

www.bewareofthegod.com presents the fifth in Chloe Martin’s essential series of Public Information Sheets: Know Your Politician: The Hon Senator Guy Barnett.

Please! DOWNLOAD the PDF and send to friends. A Liberal senator will push ahead with his plan to end Medicare funding for late-term abortions, no matter what the outcome of a parliamentary inquiry into the issue.

Be under no illusion, Senator Guy Barnett is taking a stand against abortion funding to maintain his own Christian views. It has nothing to do with woman or woman's health. He is holding every woman, in Australia, to ransom in 2008 because he chooses to believe in 2000 year old mythical ideas.

 

Who Knows?

Does anyone know how the function under “permissions” & “blog readers” called “only blog authors” works?

Who does it allow to read my blog?

Or, where do I go to find out how it works?

I think I'd like my blog able to be read by the blog world. But, I'm just beginning to wonder if I really want it to be read by the entire world?

Don't you just love those colours and that pattern. You could almost call it striped.

Saturday Morning

Oh my head! Too much vodka!... actually, a couple of cigarettes, a few coffees and a walk around to the shops and I feel fine. A little seedy, but nothing some muesli won’t fix.

I live with a couple of pill poppers – I’m not inclined, generally – so it was valium washed down with the vodka. I, usually, don’t feel any effect from downers, they have never worked on me, particularly, but, last night, when I got up to head to the kitchen, I was having trouble putting two feet in front of the other. It was very funny, we all laughed, as I swerved sideways, almost, into the wall. I reckon I should be feeling worse, but I feel, kind of, fine.

Shane, and I, woke up on the couch at 4am, fire dead, TV on. Yes, a good look, crumpled in our inebriation. I reached for, what I thought was water, with sleep eyes, only to take another gulp of vodka. Oh, I thought. I should of realised when the lemon hit me in the nose, before the flavour wrapped itself around my taste buds.

The sun was shining, earlier this morning, when I ventured to the shop, but as I was sitting outside smoking, it clouded over and my feet froze like two small ice blocks. I think, maybe, it is now a day to light the fire and stay indoors. The sky is a deep grey and it looks like it is going to rain. Yay! Great! Yes, I know, we need the rain. Blah, blah, blah! Bring it on, I’ve got thick socks to pull over my cold toes.

Cold Feet

Such cold plates of meat

What Is...

What's the best thing about being a meth addict?

Two sleeps to Xmas.

 

Reminds me of a couple of ex-boyfriends

Sausages

It's the sausage, you know, that we're all addicted to, us men. It's why we like doing the bbq, it's a metaphor. Look at my meat, watch it get hot and hard. Let me be proud.

We can all handle them well, straight or gay; we know what they feel like, we know what to do with them... despite any protest. It's what makes us all men.

It's how the sausage works, moving parts are endlessly fascinating. Sausage goes up, sausage goes down; bursting its skin, little and small.

Roll them around in the palm of your hand, make them stand up in the air, peel back the skin, taste the juices within. Feel the weight of it in your grip. Prick them and watch the fat bubble and spit.

I knew a boy who's Kranski I loved. I had a boy who's long and thin really did get in. My favourite boy's was a joy to squeeze, it made him smile, it made his eyes roll out of sight.

I love watching them packed away, wrapped and placed and rolled around, maybe, a little, too much, I know.

Liquorice Allsorts

Boyfriends

It's weird when I read about fellow bloggers who, in their thirties, have never had a boyfriend. Who have never had love. Who are still looking for love. I can't imagine what that would be like? I've been single for twelve months now and I feel like I'm ready for a new man to fill my boyfriend space, standing right next to me. I'm ready for a new one, thanks universe. I've been in relationships all of my life, being single is a novelty (when I first came out and now) and while I have enjoyed it, I'm not sure it is the ideal way to live. It's kind of static, if you like, being able to do whatever I please, not having another person to challenge me, to take me out of my cocoon, to give me stuff that I would have, otherwise, not experienced.

So, I thought I'd think about my boyfriends for a minute.

Alex - schoolboy boyfriend. Captain of the football team, vice captain of the school. The way his arse filled those white footy shorts... I tell you! I loved Alex's legs, I loved them rapped around me. He got married and had children. He died a few years back, I don't know how.

Anthony - really a somewhat tortured affair, soon after I first came out. Neither of us knew which way was up, or how to have a gay relationship. How men act with men. We went onto become great friends; he was smart and funny and one person who really got my cracked point of view. Always. I never had to explain anything to him. Ever. He just knew. He was diagnosed as a schizophrenic, a few years back and disappeared out of my life.

Mark - the love of my life. One of the most gorgeous men I have ever, and am ever likely, to meet. Smart, intelligent, handsome, amazing. I thought I'd be with him forever, which, I am, just not how I envisaged, as friends. I'd still curl up and die without him.

Lauri - My sexy Italian boyfriend. Mark and Lauri and I had a three-way relationship for four years. I thought the three of us would be together forever, but it wasn't to be. Three boys in a relationship, having three relationships, turned out to be too much. Lauri has the most beautiful green eyes and, I shouldn't say this, but what the hell, he has the most beautiful penis I have ever seen. Italian.

Luke - Mark and I tried to recapture what we had with Lauri, with Luke, in a sense, (not intentionally, that wasn't the aim when we met him) but it didn't work and I opted out and Mark and Luke have been together ever since. I adore Luke. He's gorgeous.

Josh - a sweet affair. Josh taught me to love again, after all the dramas that preceded him. He's smart and naughty and a real handful.

Manny - My sexy Greek boyfriend and the sweetest boy I have ever met. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Sexy as hell. But, Manny was content with a very small, constricted life, living on a pension (Greek) and I always felt that I needed more than that, needed more from a boyfriend. Maybe, I should have just married him and been content. But, I know, I wouldn't have been... He's got a new boyfriend Vinnie. I used to say to Tom, if only I could get Josh's brain into Manny's head, I'd have the most perfect boyfriend. Tom always said I was wicked to think such things about Manny.

How cute is this boy? - the picture is from Greece: Land of Gods, I hope they don't mind me admiring him

Oh?

I went out and picked up a boy, last night. Louis, nice he was too. We went back to his place, which, funnily enough, was a house, in Fitzroy, I'd always wanted to see inside. It reminded me of all the uni squats I've been into - eclectic décor, bit's of stuff gleaned from every second hand shop this side of wherever... a brown couch.

He was passionate and a good kisser. Tender. Had beautiful eyes. I wasn't sure if he wanted to have sex, or cuddle and sleep, at one stage. He seemed to be as happy entwined, as anything else.

However, we did get it on. And the bastard came in my mouth. No noise, no warning, nothing, just squirt, squirt, squirt and then that revolting taste. (I'm a failed gay boy, in that sense, as much as I've tried to like the taste of it, I just can't. It's revolting) The last guy who did that to me, I spat it at him. I wasn't quite so aggressive, last night and I dutifully swallowed it. It's just plain rude, though. At least give some kind of warning, so I could decide for myself if I was going to take it in the mouth, or not.

I still don't like the taste of it, but, at least, I didn't feel like I wanted to gag on his. Maybe, I'll call him Louis sweet (as it can be) cum.

I walked home at 2am, in the cool evening air, through the deserted streets, watching the cats of the neighbourhood slinking about, thinking about all the safe sex literature about getting cum in your mouth.

I so tried to like it when I first came out. I wanted it to be different to Alex's, my school boy boyfriend, whose I didn't like, either. I thought I should like it, you know, such an intimate act, all a part of being a gay boy. But, it was a great disappointment, in the end. I just couldn't stomach it.

The last time I had swallowed cum - the above time withstanding - was quite a number of years ago when I had two boyfriends. I sat them next to each other and sucked them both off, one after the other, to see if they tasted any different. Lauri's was sweeter than Mark's, just by the way. Essentially, there was a significant variation, between the two, on the same putrid taste.

I've canvassed house mates and friends and they all love the taste of it.

"I would have gargled it in pig heaven," David said. He threw his head back and made gurgling noises.

"You milk them for every drop and savour it for as long as you can," said Shane.

So, am I the odd boy out?

Do most gay boys like the taste of their men's juice?

Or, are there a significant number of boys who don't like the taste, like me?

Goodness me! What a load of old rubbish!

A Cairns woman was "sickened" to discover her new mobile phone held sexually explicit photos of a female employee from the Dick Smith Electronics store where she had just bought the phone. The university student found the pornographic shots among 49 images stored on the phone, the Daily Telegraph reports. The explicit shots showed the female employee lying on a bed naked from the waist down and performing a sex act, and a man holding his penis. The employee is also seen in her bra and pulling her pants down. "It's sickening to think I've been using this phone near my face," the unnamed woman customer was quoted by the Telegraph as saying.

Been using it near her face? What a load of emotive clap-trap. It was used as a camera, not a dildo, you idiot.

"What people do in their own homes is their business. But I'm disgusted it was left on the shelf to be sold." The store had sold the customer a display model phone because it was the last one in stock. She later complained about the phone's audio quality and accessed its menu. It was then she sprung upon the offending photos. The explicit shots were among 49 images that included the female staff member in her Dick Smith Electronics uniform standing outside the store.
(You can hear her talking just like Pauline Handson, well, I can)

Its sad really, that we now live in a world where everything is a scandal, or a shock event! (thank you skanky newspapers) This is not an affront to this woman's emotional well being. She was sickened? I wonder how she reacts to incidences that really are awful. Everything is now an outrage, or a scandalous occurrence.

Here's a word of advice to the, surprise, surprise, Queensland woman, Delete the photos and move on. This is NOT a terrible thing. There are a huge number of people in the world who don't have access to fresh water, luv.

Do people like this, in our celebrity worshipping society, want to get their names in the newspapers and their faces on television, so, they to, can feel like a star? Otherwise, I just don't get it. She's probably aiming for a multi million dollar damages payment for emotional distress and the loss of enjoyment of life, thank you to all the blood sucking lawyers out there.

Birthday

It was my birthday this week. People still send cards through the mail, it's kind of nice, really. I've been receiving them for the last few days. A mantle piece of birthday cards, kind of old fashioned, but kind of pretty to look at.

We went to Sebastian’s restaurant for my birthday, Shane, me and He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned, at QV, Saturday night. My oldest mates. Sebastian laid on the meal, seven courses with wine to compliment each dish. Oysters, salmon and shitaki mushrooms, soft shell crab, salted calamari, rare beef, rice pudding and ice cream, champagne, desert wine, Riesling, red wine, vodka, coffee.

I didn’t feel drunk afterwards, despite all the alcohol.

There was a cute as a button restaurant hand, Nathan. Small, Italian, handsome, sexy, bundle of energy, not yet out of the closet... so in the closet he can see Christmas presents, said Sebastian.

You know how not-out-of-the-closet-young’uns just naturally gravitate towards groups of gay guys, almost sniffing it out with their noses. Interested, sparkly eyes. He couldn’t stop looking at us, coming over to talk with us. He just wanted to keep chatting. The three of us wanted to help him with his gay virginity.

Twenty two and as cute as anything.

We went to Sircuit and drank two schooners of beer and felt maggotted afterwards.

 

Oh Yes

Wrote some more of my script in the morning. I got my script, more or less, finished, to first draft stage. I got Act 2 done over the weeks since I've quit work. (back into right brain, it's a comforting place to be) It's complete and ready for re-writing.

Yay for me.

Funnily enough, a friend of a friend, at Bolago on the weekend, is a writing lecturer, from the University of Adelaide, who has also taken time off to write a script. We're going to form our own, quasi reading group, to help each other with our writing.

Hillary, Sandy, Sandy’s writing friend Sheila and, I think, a friend of Hilary’s left just after lunch. The queens of ooky, spooky, all writing Harry Potter rip offs. I just can’t see it, myself.

You know, Hillary has a sticker on the back of her car that says Magic Happens. I always want to get a sharpie and change it to shit.

Subject: visit

hi all,

in melb from this fri,19th to mon 29th.

very busy schedule, with birthdays,footy gamesfestivals,dinners,show and shows,shopping,etc

hoping we can see each other at some stage, i will have my usual phone number, +64 XX XXX XXX

staying at mums in moonee ponds as usual

love and hugs

Lauri and Yappy (yeah, no, I don’t like him)

Subject: Hello, hello, hello

Ummm – I think you have been told, I just don't think you were listening at the time. "What, sit down at the computer and make myself type? Surely not! There's got to be some other way..."

Looking forward to reading drafts.

Kym

PS: I can't remember your street address (just in case I do decide to send you a post card from OS)

I headed home early afternoon.

David’s home from Hawaii. That boy’s life is just one long OS trip. 

Subject: well?

Was it memorable turning whatever age you just turned, you know, you are older than me. I lose track easily, but not weight.

Rachel

Subject: Oi

It’s your birthday week, why don’t you answer me so I have an excuse to not do bookwork

Rachel

Went to Club 80 late. Just to sniff around. I don't know, I didn't feel like staying home, once I got home. You know, it just goes like that sometimes.

This is the guy I picked up at 80 who blew in my mouth. Nice boy, even if his manners could do with improving

 

This is Alex, my boyfriend from school. Vice captain of the first fotty team, vice captain of the school

This is my straight buddy Jason, who doesn't mind a bit of guy on guy action if there are no chicks around, especially if you buy him a schooner, or ten first

This is my ex, Lauri, he was good at it, as you may be able to judge from this shot.

Camp As...

He's so far in the closet he can see Xmas presents.

Three Little Ducks

'Say, what's your name?' the bartender asked the first duck.

'Huey,' was the reply.

'How's your day been, Huey?'

'Great. Lovely day. Had a ball. Been in and out of puddles all day. What else could a duck want?' said Huey.

'Oh. That's nice,' said the bartender. He turned to the second duck, 'Hi, and what's your name?'

'Dewey,' came the answer from duck number two.

'So how's your day been, Dewey! ?' he asked.

'Great. Lovely day. I've had a ball too. Been in and out of puddles all day myself. What else could a duck want?'



The bartender turned to the third duck and said, 'So, you must be Louie?'

'No,' he said, batting his eyelashes. 'My name is Puddles.'

Finals Football

The Sun is Shining Softly on the Ground

I woke up. Bing! I looked at the clock, by my bed and it said 6 something. I had a piss, sat like a girl, as my head spun back into orbit, then went back to bed. I tossed and turned, but I couldn't go back to sleep. Damn! Saturday morning, time to sleep in, I thought. Even if my days are all the same, I thought it anyway.

Everybody has started smoking again. Of course, not David, as he can't smoke a joint without feeling paranoid. But, Shane is smoking again. I guess, a relationship breakup will do that. I guess I didn't confirm that Shane and Matt have split up. Matt can't make Shane number 1 priority ahead of his business.

Shane was asleep on the couch, when I came down. He looked cross-eyed as he got up and went to bed.

I headed outside for a smoke. It's a gentle morning, the sun is shining softly on the ground. There is a gentle breeze.

I got to thinking about Tom, sitting there in my wicker chair, not sure why? Not sure why I was thinking about him today, that is. David would say, it was because Tom was there with me. I wish I could believe that stuff, it would, probably, make life easier. It's been a year, Sept 1st, since Tom died. I had the coolest best friend and he just slipped away, just like that. Now a year has passed. It bought tears to my eyes. As I sat there, with the gentle, cool breeze blowing gently across my wet eyes, I thought of him.

If I'd known in 1990, when we met as pups, that I'd have him for eight good years, followed by ten lousy ones, well, for him, anyway, maybe I would have held him a little tighter, maybe I would have told him I loved him more often, maybe I would have appreciated a truly, great friend a little more. I love you Chris, he used to say to me all the time. Maybe, I was a good friend. Maybe, I wasn't. I don't know now.

The sun shone in faint pools on the ground. The wind blew the leaves in the trees, so they rustled and shimmied and danced.

Infinity

Talk, You Boys

Renowned gay Professor Karl Newton offers a solution for troubled gay male relationships: talking. He points to a lack of communication as the root of most issues, suggesting couples spend at least 45 minutes in conversation, without interruption, four times a week. Followed up with a two-hour date where the subjects of money, work and (extramarital) sex are vetoed.

Talk, you boys.

Tower One

Ten to Fifteen

8.42. As I turned my head to look at the clock by my bed, it said 8.42. I looked at David's amyl by my alarm and thought I should really take it back down stairs. He's back in a few days.

Shane should be up, I thought. No, too early. I could still shower first. Nah, I'm not in a hurry any more.

Coffee. Blog. muesli, in that order, I thought, as I sat up in bed. To darkness outside.

"What? Where am I?" I rubbed my eyes, in case it was a dream. "Dark? Night? I should be at dinner! Fuck!"

I stumbled out of bed. "I can't go. I've got to go!" I'd turned down so many dinners lately that Rachel commented on it last time I emailed her. Oh, I'd given up on you. You're never available.

I spun around in a circle. What? To do? I headed down stairs.

"Your mobile's been ringing," said Shane, as I walked into the kitchen. I could see it was Rachel from the display."

"I'm supposed to be at dinner... um... an hour ago. Fuck!"

I called Rachel. She answered "I only went for a lie down at 4 o'clock. Damn."

"I wondered where you were?"

"I could..."

"Be here in ten to fifteen?"

Middle Park? Night time traffic. "Sure."

"We've ordered paella."

"Armstrong Street? ... Spencer Street, City Road, Canterbury Road, I thought, as I slipped the G.T.I. into reverse and revved the engine. Where am I going? Shake head. Yes, that's the way.

Night air, shiny evening, slipping through the dark, Denni Hines sang the blues. I turned left into Gisbourne Street, inexplicably. Oh, what did you do that for? Idiot! I was still berating my half-asleep head, as I flicked on my blinker and accelerated around the corner into Albert Street, at the last minute. It was only a taxi that I cut off, so it made no never mind. Now you have to go through the CBD, you moron! I'm not at all sure if you are allowed to do 70 k's in the city streets. Down Lonsdale, it's practically a back street. No, I'm sure you're not. I hope there are no speed cameras. Get out of my way! Move! I resist using the horn.

As I sat down to Jill and Rachel's smiling faces, the paella was placed on the table.

"Timing," I said. I couldn't help the cheeky grin, I could feel it spread across my face despite myself.

"Wine?" sir.

"Oh, yes, please, something red."

"So, what time do you call this to be getting here?" asked Jill, almost in an accusatory tone. From the woman who will be late to her own funeral, as they say.

"Jill was early," exclaimed Rachel.

"I don't believe it," I said. I was banking on Jill's pathological lateness, to take some of the tarnish off my arrival time.

"I've been early to all of my meetings this week," said Jill. "I'm turning over a new leaf."

"If you keep doing that," I said to Jill. "You'll be greeted with the sound of bodies hitting the floor, every where you fucking go."

"Oh yes, very funny," said Jill snidely. The look was completed with her usual cat's bum mouth twist, as though she had just pulled the skin off mould.

Pleased to See You

Fixed Up On A Date

David is setting me up with one of his friends. It all came about when, I came home from Club 80, a month, or so, ago and gave David the details of the man I'd been with. Good kisser, nice chest, foreskin. His name was Leo.

David decided that these details fitted a friend of his named Leo and has been convinced it is the same person, ever since.

Well, David sms' me from Hawaii to say, that his friend Leo has only been to Club 80 a few times this year and he can't recall meeting me, not that he has ever met me. But, you know what I mean. Anyway, this Leo now wants to meet me. He wants a boyfriend and he would like to meet me, go out on a date.

Nice wog boy. Why not? Good kisser, nice chest, delectable foreskin, what's not to like.

Thinking about it, how many Leo's do I know?

Mark just called to ask if I wanted to go to the Art Deco Exhibition with he and Luke today. You know, not so much, was my initial reaction. I like Art Deco and all, but, really, it's not my favourite and I feel I know all I care to know about the era. Kinda. Stupid really, now that I write it down. It's too intrusive for me, as a style. The décor should never be more interesting than the inhabitants, that's what I've always said.

"You boring fart," said Mark. "Well, Luke and I will drop in."

Yeah, good on ya, I thought. Just when I'd logged onto gaydar and was beginning to trawl.

There's always something, now isn't there? Day at home, free to do as I like, no interruptions. A boy could find a playmate.

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.