Of Human Bondage

Stuart came around early and rolled joints, lovely Stuart, before he and Shane headed out.

My car was playing up yesterday afternoon and I was going to take it for a drive today to see if it still has something wrong, but, now I don't care. No, really, I don't. (The world would be a much more relaxed place if more people smoked dope, lets face it)

So, I'm watching Of Human Bondage. 1935, I think. Black and white and grainy. Some movie critics I have read, have said, that Bette Davis' performance is the greatest piece of acting by a woman ever caught on film. Apparently, it is widely accepted now that Bette should have received an Academy Award for this performance. I think now if you look up the Academy Awards for that years, her performance in this film is acknowledged.

Lazy afternoon, what else is there to do? I ask you?

The greatest actress to have ever lived, some say. It is accepted that she and Katherine Hepburn are the two great actresses. Katherine Hepburn won 4 Academy Awards. Bette won 3 Academy Awards, she should have won five. She should hold the record.

Socks, track suit pants, the sun shining in through the window. Coffee.

The promise of more joints, once Shane and Stuart come home from their lunch with a Jewish princess friend of Stuarts.

I just need grapes.

How gay is that? Should I feel like a poofter looser lying on the couch with just a dead actress as a friend? … it crossed my mind. Lovely to relax without feeling like I should be doing something. Being busy, it’s a busy old world, huh? Go, go, go! Rah, rah, be out, be seen, be fabulous, be someone.

What is it… affluenza?

Consume until it hurts, honey.

Not me babe. Push play on the remote. 

"It made me sick when I had to let you kiss me. I only kissed you because you begged me. And after you kissed me I always used to wipe my mouth, “WIPE MY MOUTH.”

Hand in the chip bowl…

Yes, come over, I will be waiting for you to get here

I Think The Current Laws Lead To The Inevitable Outcome

I don’t know, maybe I’m a bit weird, but I don’t see that Carl Williams did anything too wrong. Oh, I mean, of course there were the killings, the bashings and the violence, but, you know, there never were any innocents rubbed out, bashed or hurt. Pretty much everyone who was killed was up for it, by the very nature of the life styles they chose to live. You know, live by the sword, die by the sword.

It could be seen as a public service the way society’s attitudes are moving. The general public now think that judges are soft on criminals, that thugs are getting too shorter sentences, that we are all in danger because the crims are getting an easy ride, so why shouldn’t those people who hold these views applaud Carl and his cleaning gang. No doubts that society is a safer place because of them.

There were the meth labs, but you know, it’s all just a construct to ease the control of society. We, as society members, have to forgo certain of life’s pleasures, so that politicians can be re-elected and the police can have more leisure time. Pretty soon, policing will just be reduced to road cameras and CCV TV.

Because, pretty much, drug dealers are selling to a willing customer base. Can you think of another crime where all of the participants are willing and happy?

Yes, of course there are a few exceptions.

Oh yes, the children? We all know that if drugs were legalised and treated as a health issue, when needed, instead of a criminal issue, every child’s head would explode, but think of the police man power, if the only crime they had to police was selling to minors. The police are never going to win, human beings have taken drugs ever since the first caveman scraped the skin of a berry from the Pitchirich Tree and sucked at the sap and they are not going to stop any time soon.

Unsolvable problem being, human beings like drugs too much.

Why don’t we just get real about it and treat it with harm minimisation strategies instead of prohibition, which, I’m sorry, has never worked. I’m sure there is a good argument to be made that prohibition, actually, has caused the mess that we have now.

Let’s try a new approach, let’s take the crime out of it and see what happens.

Go Robbie, Go!

Mark and Luke came down, Luke cooked dinner. Meat and chickpeas and tandoori chicken and saffron rice with nuts and spices. The desert was magnificent, stuffed peaches with pomegranate seeds and pasticcio nuts. It was all amazing.

David came over and regaled us with a story of how he has fallen out with one of his richest clients. We all turned a little, as we do with David. Essentially, he invited the client’s sister, who she doesn’t like, to participate in a retreat he was holding and the rich client turned. We all told David it was his fault, he protested.

Shane and Simon too, Simon rolled joints. Lovely Simon. 

We watched the final of So You Think You can Dance.

Go Robbie go! He was the crowd favourite. It was unanimous.

No cigarettes today, joint substitutes. Shrug.

Oh, those beautiful eyes

He had beautiful eyes, everyone thought so

Dreams

I had the strangest dreams last night. I went to visit my mother and she had turned into, um... oh... how do I describe her... an asexual, foppish, insane devil – a cross between the prime minister’s secretary on Little Britain and Jack Nicolson’s Joker. Every wall in her house was covered in clothes on hangers billowing, giving a sort of curtain effect throughout the house. Every one of her possessions were there, but they had been somehow changed and made different and they were strewn all threw the house.

"Yes, I've done a little redecorating," she/he said.

She has a portrait of me painted as a kid, it had somehow been turned into a neon, flashing sign, the type you'd see in a casino. The house was jam packed full of stuff, over flowing out into the garden. It was a mess, a labyrinth of darkness.

It was like a bizarre, carnival hell.

She/he walked me through the house becoming more and more threatening, more and more condemning of my behaviour, more and more angry. I think it was the first dream ever, certainly that I can remember, where I felt in danger.

I woke with a start and lay there at 5am thinking that that dream was the work of a truly disturbed mind.

I must have fallen back asleep, because then I dreamed I was in a crowded bar. I was standing in the queue waiting to get a drink when Billy Joel walked in. He smiled and said hello and kept walking. I got my drink when Mark walked up to me and said, "Come on, you've got to go."

"Got to go where?"

"You're on in fifteen minutes."

"On where?"

"Singing with Billy."

"I'm what?"

"Your show is about to start."

"What do you mean?"

"You and Billy Joel." Mark looked incredulous. "What is wrong with you?"

"I just saw him..."

"Yes, he said he saw you. Come on."

"Why am I singing with Billy Joel?"

"Because he liked you singing with him so much the last time, he wants you to sing again. What is wrong with you?"

"But, I don't know the songs."

"Yes you do. Come on."

"I don't... know the words."

"You're just nervous, you'll remember once you are up on stage."

Then Mark and I were pushing through the crowd. I could see the stage lights coming closer.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the loud speakers roared. "Please put your hands together for Billy Joel." Thunderous applause. "With his very special guest Christian Fletcher...."

Why Billy Joel, I have no idea.

Sun and Sex

The day started off with Stuart rolling joints. I was riding over to my mum’s, he was going to the gym and Shane had shopping and an appointment with a water massage person, mumbling something about not wanting to drown. Pussy! But Stuart, he was keen to have a second and a third.

I headed off on my bike. It was a beautiful day, the summer seems to have returned once more. I'm exercising every second day and joints, or not, I was going to ride my bike. When Shane questioned my determination, I replied, that I could have a gentle ride in the sun, being dope effected, rather than riding hard. Having said that, I rode like a mad thing up all the hills and was pooped when I finally got to the Toorak Road hill, which I walked for the first time ever. There was an old woman in support stockings walking a Jack Russell moving faster than me up ahead.

I've eradicated all sweeties from my diet and am having fruit, namely apples, as snacks in between. I've jogged and ridden my bike regularly and my suit pants no longer feel tight on me. That's my fat indicator, the suit pants test.

It's funny, all the girls still say I am not fat and can't understand what I'm talking about and all the boys, read gay friends, say keep at it, you'll get there.

Just as I got to mums, she was waiting outside for a friend to come pick her up, two days early. She goes Mondays. She's not getting any better. I cooked her scrambled eggs. We chatted again about her continuing to live on her own.

I was home by 5pm and settled into wasting my life looking at internet porn. An hour, or so later, just as it was getting dark, I decided instead of staring at a computer screen, hand pumping, I could head out and meet someone in the flesh.

I got to Club 80 around 7pm, and it was, pretty much, empty. Too early, I thought. I had coffee and watched a stupid movie about a country town in America being terrorised by, what could be best described as, a pterodactyl. Oh, give me strength.

So, off I went after the hot Asian boy, who we will call white boy, who, as much as I tried, didn’t seem to be interested in me. So, I was hanging by the side in the upstairs, when this Islander boy came along. He wasn’t really my type, but he slid up next to me and started to gently run his finger nails along my arms, which felt nice. We cuddled, he was such a cuddle monster and he felt good and smelt nice. You know, sometimes I think that is how I want all sex to start off, gentle intimacy. But, of course, he wanted to go to a room and I didn’t and from then on he was always appearing next to me. I liked kissing him, he had big, soft lips and stroking him, but I didn’t want to do any more with him than that.

I was still after white boy and by then red boy – both the colours of their t-shirts. So at one persistent moment with cuddle boy, I said let’s go over to a dark corner and have a cigarette, you know, just to break the tension, nicely.

“You can’t smoke in here,” said cuddle boy.

“Oh, you can.” Well, not technically, but I don’t think anyone cares. Maybe they have to look as though they do, being indoors and all and the current smoking laws being what they are.

Now we hadn’t been in the dark alcove for long when, guess who, white boy comes in next to us with some other guy following, who proceeded to go down on him enthusiastically.

Now, I’m not sure what that said – of all the gin joints in the world and all that – but it was distracting. So, I left cuddle boy and headed off.

Not long after, I picked up red boy, who was really very lovely, sweet, unaffected, easy to chat to, dark curly hair, great smile. He was keen to get his... um... er... what's the opposite of end in?... and when he did he was enthusiastic and keen. He was taller than me, which isn't my preferred combination, shorter legs, longer legs, but, you know, you just keep pushing them down.

I was home by midnight.

Icelandic volcano

Icelandic volcano

Wedding Bells

I escorted my good friend Jill to a wedding, she didn't have anyone to go with. It was a beautiful setting on Albert Park Lake, at the famous Carousel Restaurant, the view back to Queens Road and the city was spectacular.

Weddings are funny, they are interchangeable, all the same things happen, they all flow in exactly the same way. The best man who was a woman, was very funny, as were the bride and groom, all gave great speeches.

The other funny thing was all of Jill’s girlfriends who we met up with, four to be exact, all had "male friends" accompanying them, none were their boyfriends or husbands or significant other half. The boys were cute, don't think I minded Greek Theo rolling me cigarettes – ah yes, smoking, oops – all night. He had beautiful eyes and a come hither look when he turned to me and said, “Would you like another rollie?” with a great, cheeky, smile.

The bride was beautiful – I have, actually, met her before – the groom was handsome, the night sparkling and warm.

We danced, we laughed, we drank lots of red wine. Who'd have thought a good time could be had at a, relative, strangers wedding.

Just so beautiful, what else can we say

Subtle Homophobia

Don't you hate the subtle forms of homophobia, the ones that will take another few generations to eradicate?

Why should gay sex be nasty and scary? Why should it be referred as such?

It's the kind of subtle reference to "us" being anything but normal that we have to deal with every day, which straight people will, probably, never see, or understand. It's fascinating really, not in a good way, of course.

Besides, the straight boys I’ve had sex with have neither found it nasty or scary.

When O.J. Simpson was sent to jail for armed robbery there were plenty of people cracking jokes about dropping the soap. 

Well, it turns out the former footballer is Mr Popular with the gay crowd at Nevada's Lovelock Correctional Center — and we mean that literally, not in the nasty scary way! 

A former prisoner tells National Enquirer that O.J. is practically worshipped by a group of starstruck gay prisoners known as 'The Girls', who have given him the affectionate nickname 'Daddy Juice'. 

"O.J. may be a pariah on the outside, but in prison, he's still a somebody," says the prisoner. "He's really tight with 'The Girls.' Whenever we'd be let out to the yard, O.J. would almost always hang out with them. The 'girls' treated him like he was a king." 

King of the queens!

Ticket Inspectors

Ticket inspectors on the tram. Run all you non ticket buyers, can’t you see, head to the exits, flee.

Grey coats like the Third Reich, badges at the ready, they try to be nice, warm, friendly, but...

One talks on a phone, one points to a hazardous bag strap on the floor, one smiles and watches

and nobody heads to the exits, nobody flees when they have the chance, is this honesty, I see? 

“Hello, good morning. Could you have your tickets ready?”

I hand mine over sideways, expressionless, cold.

I remember in the beginning of ticket inspectors the disgraceful behaviour I witnessed,

people bullied and harassed and removed from trams in head locks, belittled, put down, fascist.

“Thank you.”

I grunt, no smile. Despite it being years later, you will never win me back.

They point in code with each other, call first names and then they all exit, like a black cloud, a swarm. Gone.

Do Chicks Flirt?

Do chicks flirt? You know, with dirty talk? I guess they do, but it's not something I recognise immediately, you understand. It feels so weird when chicks do, like it's just wrong.

I went up to introduce myself to the new HR chick and to explain a spread sheet I’d prepared for her. We were looking at her computer screen and I said,

“I can’t see it without my glasses, it’s too small.”

“I bet you have a big one...” she said. She smiled.

I looked at her computer screen to try and mentally compare it with mine.

“...being... um... so close to technology and all,” she said. She smiled and held my gaze.

What are we talking about, I thought? A chill ran up my spine.

Brrr! Winter. Time To Break Out The Long Johns... Or Is That, Time To Break Him Out Of His Long Johns?

What Can You say?

Saturday Arvo

Saturday arvo

Mark came over yesterday and hung out for the afternoon. We sat on the couch like boyfriends do, like we used to and smoked pot with Shane and Stuart. It's funny, on those occasions, it doesn't seem like any time has passed.

Stuart said, It was clear Mark and I have known each other for a long time. You seem like boyfriends, he said.

Mark and I smiled at each other, knowingly. The look of having known each other well.

Funny the things people say.

"YAAAAA!"

Off to the dentist, yesterday first thing, to see big gay Martin. Yay! I had my teeth cleaned, in the constant battle to save my gums. And, boy do I know about it this morning, when I chew my museli for the first time when the nerve endings, on three teeth, jump out at me, like the animated horn in a cartoon when our hero feels pain. WARRRR!!!!!

They settle down in a couple of days.

Hey Ravi

 Ravi called, he wanted to know what happened to us? He says he misses me.

I told him straight, that he was too hard to organise, that he never seemed to catch up when I could and that he seemed to work every weekend.

He said he was sorry for just thinking about himself. He wants to reconnect, with the bond we had, he says he wants to get together.

You know, Ravi has a really nice... oh, I guess I shouldn't say that. It's just that it's really handsome, thick, good to hold. Good flesh on it, nice curve. I miss that about him. I guess, I should miss him for other reasons?

He's gone to Thailand. I did ask him if he thought it was the wisest of holiday destinations, but he said he just had to get away.

At 18, he was everybody's little brother

I've Been Listening To "Hotel California"

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, I saw shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim

I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway;

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself,

'This could be Heaven or this could be Hell'

Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way

There were voices down the corridor,

I thought I heard them say...

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the Hotel California

Any time of year (Any time of year)

You can find it here

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.

Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the Captain,

'Please bring me my wine'

He said, 'We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine'

And still those voices are calling from far away,

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear them say...

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

They livin' it up at the Hotel California

What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)

Bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling,

The pink champagne on ice

And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device'

And in the master's chambers,

They gathered for the feast

They stab it with their steely knives,

But they just can't kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was

Running for the door

I had to find the passage back

To the place I was before

'Relax,' said the night man,

'We are programmed to receive.

You can check-out any time you like,

But you can never leave!'

 

Don't You Love A Guy Who Can Fill A Pair Of Jocks.

You Know, that round, heavy bulge that feels so good in your hand

What Do You Reckon?

Do you think all men, straight or gay, would suck cock, if they could get their own cocks in their mouths?

Seriously? You answered no to that question? Who are you kidding. Straight, or gay, they would be sucking their own cocks as often as they use their hand. And how often do you think the average guy uses his hand? Oh, come on, not in how many days, but how often per day, would be closer than the mark. So, that is an awful lot of sucked cocks.

So, what does that make them?

He took off his shirt, he hung his red tie around his neck, but all you could see was those lips

He was a long haired surfer boy, with a sharks tooth around his neck, who you picked up on the beach as the sun went down at the end of the day

Now I Lay My Head Down to Sleep

Annihilated! Happily so. There was Peter, a country boy what’s more. He was good. I was good. And everyone left with a smile on their face.

Well, what’s a boy to do when he finds himself home alone on Easter Saturday? I ask you? Back to the house of many steps and corridors.

Peter’s friend, who found himself spending a few hours waiting, wasn’t so happy. He tried to smile and make light of it, but the cracks were obvious.

Ah well, I guess that’s life, winners and losers. I say loser with the nicest possible connotation, you understand. I’ve been that friend waiting, it’s not fun.

Ah. Yawn. I’ll sleep well.

In The Dark

Hairy balls, hairy pubes, hairy arse, hairy stomach, hairy chest. Puppy dog eyes. he’s quite a surprise.

Foreskin. Full of spoof, of which he's real happy to be relieved. And he looks cute as you give him a hand, looking up at your eyes, looking down at your hand. He breathes heavy and moans. He talks to you as you jack him off, tells you how it feels, what you’re doing to him. 

“Yeah, that feels good,” he says. “Yeah, oh, just like that.” I love that.  

He shakes when he cums. His spoof invariably gets caught up in the hair on his legs. I've usually always got to wash him afterwards. He's compliant under the hot water, like a big doll, I can bend him anyway I like.

Now that he's in his early twenties, he's filled right out into being a man.

 

Your best mate's little brother just turned 18

Happy Holiday

I did meth. Shane kind of sprung it on me. He and his charming new boyfriend, the lovely blond Stuart, were going to partake.

“Come one. It’s Easter,” said Shane. Oh yes, I know, Nancy Reagan, I could have just said no, but it’s less fattening than chocolate eggs. 

Shane’s got a new dealer, apparently, it’s now mum dad and the kids in the burbs supplementing their income in these tough, financial times. Shane had to get out the street directory to find where he was going, which is not that surprising for him, as he was a country boy who has had little need to leave the inner suburbs since he landed from Central Victoria, however many years ago it was.

I haven't slept. I spent the night hanging at the sex on prem club. I turned down the first 3 offers I got, as they were right after I got there and I do like a settling in period in the first hour. 

Then it was a lot of walking from there. I find that walking becomes addictive, after a while, slipping through the chasms and tunnels in the dark, watching the punters sliding in and out of the shadows in varying stages of undress. 

There was the usual body lying arse up in an open-doored cubicle on offer for all cummers, he got quite a lot of trade throughout the evening.  

There was a hot young Asian boy who got banged very publicly by a daddy type with an enormous shlong in the basement. He put up a good fight. 

The usual girlie twink who wanted to share the evening with me, who never quite got the hint. 

The really hot leather boy in chaps walking around masturbating furiously, who was hot and just a little scary in equal measures, who kept trying to drag me into a cubicle. He was trying to drag everyone under forty into a cubicle , so it was no compliment really. 

I think he’d had more than 2 points in the middle of all that somewhere.

There was the usual guy who I would have done, who I was trying to do, who I kept losing on the corners.

I had two nice boys, though, which were more sensual than slammin, as I was quite a bit more ripped than horny – 2 points of crystal will do that to you – but I gave it a go. 

I was more into the walking and the looking, not in a creepy way, more in a can’t stay still kind of way. The horn came later, you know, twelve hours later, I should have got take away.

Now, I feel like crap. (For the kiddies who are reading this, this is the part they should take notice of. [apparently, we have to say that]) Well, not so much crap as tired and a little sideways. Peaked. 

Happy Easter.

But I didn't eat any chocolate, stuck to my diet, which, I guess, wasn't such a stretch as I haven't eaten anything, really.

Don't you just want to slide a finger into that?

Makes A Change To Eating Muesli On My Day Off

My, my, my, Cafe Scone toast, date and caramel! Yum! fucken yum! I'm not sure of the calories, but who cares! It's Bloody Good!

A short time later...

Nutrition Facts

Tip Top – Cafe Scone Toast – Date & Caramel

Per slice

*Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.

I had 4 slices, with coffee and orange juice.

How many calories is that?

I wonder how many a bowl of muesli is?

I should go buy those new running shoes today, anyway.

Five days off! Ha, ha!

That's the Plan

Beck bought a bag of Easter eggs and kept offering them to me all day, despite knowing my latest goal, to lose 10 kilos. People are funny, aren't they.

I've eaten steamed rice and tofu and vegetable for lunch this week, well, for the two days I was at work. I've eaten apples and oranges. No wine, although that went weeks ago as my work pants seemed to be getting a little tight, just lately.

No chocolate, no muffins, no deserts.

Now I just have to decide on what exercise I'm doing. I think, a new pair of running shoes to start off with walking to build up to running again.

But, to start off with, it's going to be diet.

That's the plan.

Who'd like to watch him and his two mates

Egads!

I stood on my sister's scales on the weekend and was shocked by what I saw. When I begged my sister to tell me that they were notoriously inaccurate, she said they were expensive and accurate to the gram.

I went to the doctor, for other reasons, and he confirmed my weight gain.

I've always been 71, 72 kilos and now I'm 85. I knew I had put on a little weight, but I've never been over 80 kilos in my life.

 

Out to Lunch

I took mum out to lunch, we sat by the door of mum's favourite cafe. Personally, I think the food is ordinary, but the selection of Italian waiters more than makes up for it. We both had chicken and avocado baguettes. Mum usually waits to hear what I order and then says she'll have the same.

She'd poured her tea into her milk jug and had dropped half of her baguette onto my plate. We'd discussed going to the ATM, which means cash for me, and buying a tatslotto ticket, on my registration, there will be no doubt about whose prize it is if we ever get a winning ticket.

Two women entered the cafe with one of those over-sized prams, you know, they match the 4WD now a days, urban jungle warfare vehicles.

She manoeuvred the pram into the walkway where there was another table vacant opposite ours. She looked around, looked at me, looked at the table then looked back at her table.

She walked over to me, bent at the knees, resting her hands on her legs. "Hello." Big smile, big eyes. “Lovely day.” I have to note that there was a touch of the maniacals about her, at this point. I suspect it was too many coffees and baby rattles for her. Oh, that could be just me. But, she did give me a fair shiver down my spine.

"Hello," I said in reply. I wanted to say, said the spider to the fly, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.

"Now, if I could just get you and your delightful mother – we both look at mum who at that point drops a piece of lettuce or chicken from her mouth into her lap - to move to that table on the other side of this couple next to you that would be fantastic." Big smile and shoulder squeeze on fantastic.

"I'm sorry?" I understood all right, but I was a little taken a back. I didn’t even look around to the proposed table.

“Oh.” Big eyes. Jazz hands. "If you could just move to that table, then we'd all be able to fit." Big smile, big eyes.

"Um… No… Thanks anyway." Patronising smile. It didn’t hurt to thank her, it softened the edge of her crushing defeat.

"Oh.” Very big eye. And her face kind of pulled into its very own face lift. Quite clever really, even if the effect was somewhat alarming, may scare small children. “I don't think you understand.” Emphasis on “don’t” dotting i’s and crossing t’s sharply. “Then I could move your table over next to mine then we'd all be able to sit down and I'd be able to get the pram in next to them."

Do you believe some people. "Oh, no, I understand, I'm just not moving." Further patronising smile complete with a slight head tilt.

Smile retracts to pursed lips. Eyes flash wild. "Well, (she almost vomited the “well”) thanks for all of your help!" she spits.

What is it with mothers and kids? They think they have a god given right because they have bred? Just because they have spat something out their cunt, they think the world owes them.

I wonder how the world will change when every country goes to a one child policy? It can't be too long away.

Let me just add, there were other vacant tables in the café, plenty of them, just not by the window.

As The Afternoon Starts To Fade

I'm on my own. It is bracing in its emptiness, gone is comforted by my solitude. What am I going to do with my night? It is still, quiet; my tinnitus gets louder as I think about being alone, as if to mock.

The garden is green, outside, through my clean windows. Nothing moves. Leaves caught in suspended animation. The flowers mauve. I've opened the window, the freshness filtering through the room feels like life seeping in. Essence.

No plans. No friends calling. I've been to lunch with my family in the country. It was nice. I've just been dropped home, in a Lexus. I've made tea. My skin tingles, a shiver runs through my bones.

Silence. Blink, blink.

The rain starts to fall. 

The Comedy Festival

Comedy festival

I went to the comedy festival.

I went to see Wes Snelling, in his pissed club singing diva. He's so clever, he writes the stuff. So original. Hysterical.

She got progressively more pissed until she was carried off the stage.

I went to see Will Anderson. I love Will. His social commentary is so spot on, he cracks me up. I love stand-up, its my favourite. Immediate, in your face, direct, honest.

It's time to let the stupid people go. We’ve got to stop benchmarking down to the lowest intellect.

Recently, after the tsunami warning on the Queensland coast, many people went down to the beach to watch the wave. The govt sent the police in to clear them off.

Why?

Let them go.

 

Sporty Beetle

Freedom

We were gorgeous young things there for a while. No, we were, beautiful. Dancing under the lights. All of us, we were all handsome. Sexy, hot boys. It was my own private Queer as Folk. Guys wanted us, wanted to be with us, be us. The love flowed and time stood still and we fucked ourselves stupid.

None of us knew exactly what that moment meant.

I don't think it ever occurred to us that it would never come again.

That was it, that was the moment.

handsome Gerald Butler

Straight Boys

I think I might walk down and see the hot potato boy, said Shane. I didn't tell you he was hot, did I?

I thought you meant the potato was hot?

No, the boy behind the counter.

Isn't he in Bridge Road?

No, Brunswick Street, said Shane. In fact, you could walk down with me.

No, I won't get in your way.

He's straight.

How do you know he's straight?

Because when I look at him he gets all shy.

I love that.

So do I, said Shane. It's so hot.

I was walking up Bourke Street tonight and this gorgeous guy was coming the other way. I just thought, fuck look at you. How beautiful. And he got it.

What did he do?

He smiled sweetly, kind of blushed. He knew what I was thinking. He couldn't help but look a little flattered.

See, that's what we need more of, together straight boys.

The one's that understand that it is only optional.

Yeah, we need more of them, said Shane.

Smoking

Shane, Sebastian and I went and ate Vietnamese in Victoria Street. Sebastian ordered, I forgot my glasses. We bought red wine at the bottlo, "Three bottles should do it."

The food was great – dimsims, quail, warm chicken salad, fried ice cream.

I sneaked cigarettes out on the street. I told them I was going to the toilet. Shane smelt in on the third return.

All of the non-smokers had a smoke on the walk back to the car.

Mark got on my case on Monday, I turned and stomped off crying like a girl and the only thing I wanted as I drove down the highway was a cigarette, so I did.

I know, weak as piss.

Shane's new boyfriend, Simon, I don't think it's official, is bringing pot around and I've been smoking a bit with he and Shane.

 

Plain Drew

My friends laughed when I scoffed at Drew Barrymore doing beauty cream adverts

"Let's face it she is only one good looking gene off being ugly."

The Urban Jungle

I took mum shopping, the weekly shop. It is always hell, dealing with the general public. The car park is always over flowing, lately it has been hot and finding a car park is difficult, people prowl for spots. Then there's the trolleys, the people, the fruit and veg section, the checkouts, the screaming kids, people coming and going, it's all urban warfare.

We'd made it out, we were in the car, we were nearly free again.

We got in the car and headed out.

Mum squealed, watch out! Two chicks appeared in my left field of vision.

I was doing a turn out of the Camberwell carpark, it was an ambitious 180 degree turn, which I didn't quite make. So, I backed up and corrected the angle and proceeded to head out to the road. These two air-head, batik wearing, dopes, in their own pearl adorned, Prada world, attempted to walk straight across in front of me, despite the fact that it was a road and obvious I was going to proceed straight ahead.

I said, nah fuck them! And we lurched forward and to the left.

Mum drew in a sharp breath and reached out; a hand across me as she would when she was a driver and I was a passenger, as a kid.

I said, I was going to run the two women down.

Truthfully, I was just stirring mum up. It's like driving with Hyacinth Bucket, most days, watch this, watch that. You get sick of it.

I saw them. I am equally sick of dopes like them too. So I just accelerated forward, as I was always going to do anyway. The stupid girls soon pulled up short, even the dumb know when their lives are threatened. They changed direction smartly, went behind the car. They heaved a sigh and I could actually see their pointy noses click out of joint as they had to take into account what somebody else was doing. You know the type, over washed, over stylised, over perfumed, over-bearing, self-focussed bimbos, who live to shop, with brains cells in short supply.

You know, there people are just idiots. It's the same as those people who walk behind a reversing car, or cars parking, not a care, not a thought.

"I'll run the bitches over," I said to mum. "They won't do that again, if I do."

"Oh, Christian!" said mum.

And, you know, I got to thinking about it. I could’ve run them over, it would be seen as an accident. They walked in front of my car, unfortunately I was moving forward. I wasn't speeding, under the influence of anything, breaking the law in anyway, it would be the perfect crime. Nobody would be any the wiser that I drove forward deliberately and with scant regard for their welfare. I'm mean, I'd only have got their feet, or knocked into them, causing bruises and cuts, realistically, nothing serious would have happened. Maybe, a broken leg, at worst. But, it would teach them to think as pedestrians in future.

But Lottie made me laugh. Ooooohhhhh Chrissssstiiiaann! Like at some point she actually believed I was going to run them down.

 

Everywhere Like A Virus

Facial recognition, one of the things humans are, actually, good at. We see faces every where and none of them really look strange to us. People we have never seen before always look a little familiar. We always kind of recognise people we have never seen before.

Moral Fortitude

You don't want to be a doctor because deep down you realise you'd probably be responsible for someone's death, so you chose law. And, it's not that layers aren't responsible for people's deaths, it's just as a lawyer you won't care.

Gerard Butler

Gerard Butler on Lederman. How cute is he? 

Cute face, 

sparkly eyes, 

adorable accent, 

hot crutch in his suit.

Baby Bracks

I'm not sure what to say

'ello there

Jack cups Ivan's genitals, as the two embrace hello.

"May I carry your bag, sir," whispers Jack.

Ivan takes a step back and blushes. "You can't say that." His smile contradicts him.

Jack knows Ivan was impressed and holds his gaze and stands his ground. He doesn't let the general public stop him.

Ivan leans in, looks left, looks right, slips his hand up in front of his mouth, "If you buy me a beer."

"Or five."

"It would help."

"As many as you want."

"How much money have you got?" Ivan raises his eyebrows.

The Self Discovery Team Building workshop has gone well. Jack and Ivan have become unexpectedly close.

The carousel lurches into action, and starts to turn with a squeak. Soon the bags are coming into sight at the far end of the conveyor. Soon the rubber belt is populated with suit cases, bags held together with belts, boxes stuck together with tape, brief cases, document holders, back packs, suit bags, even a hat box.

“Suit case.”

“Back pack.”

They both shrug and look down at the line of luggage. Soon their bags have appeared, they are scooped up by relieved travellers, smile, roll of the eyes.

“So, what bar are we heading for?” asks Jack.

“More importantly, where are we booking into after?” Ivan smiles.

The next two carousels lurch into action with fierce squeaks. Arrivals are announced. Another plane must be in.

“I want to get you nice and drunk.”

“My wife’s not back until tomorrow night.”

People are filling the escalators. Jack smiles broadly and slaps Ivan on the shoulders. He looks around. Life’s good. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

What The...?

I don't think I get me any more. What does "I" mean?

Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

I went to see Percy Jackson and the lightning thief. It wasn't my choice of movie and it was at Southland, what's more.

 
What a ridiculously pretty cast. Let’s face if the two leads had a child, it is likely that it would be a great big blue eye. Do they have a plot just outside Vegas, just next to the gay porn stars with huge cocks, where they grow them? Dark hair, blue eyes, perfect features. You should see what they all looked like at a training camp for young demigods.

I liked the premise of the movie, the Greek gods and their offspring, but it was teenage fare, to be truthful. They could, actually, learn something about Greek mythology, true.

And, you know, out in the burbs, at a suburban shopping mall, the boys are not without their charms.

Go on, You Know You Want To

I'm constantly surprised by the people who won't piss in the shower.
How squeamish can they be?
I mean, when the water is on, I'm not advocating pissing once the taps are off, I'm not suggesting turning it into a urinal, so that it smells like day old squirt every time you go in there.
Isn't that what the shower is for, after all?
Surely now, it is almost an environmental issue... do you know how many litres of water a toilet uses in one flush.

"Do you think it is like picking your nose and eating it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everybody does it, but nobody wants to admit to it."

"Oh?"

"Like enjoying your own farts?"

"Well, everybody..."

"Stealing from your demented aunt's purse."

"Um..."

"Getting the family dog to lick your cock when you were twelve."

"You did that?"

"What?"

"The dog licking thing..."

"No... I had a friend."

Funeral for a Friend

I went to my friend Jill's mother's funeral today.

Twelve lines in a newspaper death notice - I counted them - and a gathering of your closest friends in a random room for an hour and your life is done.

Doesn't seem like enough. All that life lived. All of those memories.

Who thinks they are special?

Jill's now a little worried about her father.
"I just hope he gives me a little time to get over mum's death," said Jill as she got out of the car the other night. "I hope I've got some time."
You see, Jill's father now believes he has done his job. He nursed Jill's mother through her illness, he's earned a sizeable sum of money to leave to his two daughters, he now believes his job is done. His adored wife of many years is dead, he's now living with Jill and he's heading towards the wrong end of eighty.
"What do you think is going to happen?" said Jill.

Alice in 3d

I went to see Alice in Wonderland with Mark and Luke and Shane at Imax. I wanted to hate it, but didn’t. It was quite good.

It's not the original Alice in Wonderland story, it's an interpretation of what could have come next, or something like that. I haven't seen the original in years, so it was all a bit vague to me. liked it. I expected to hate it, but I thought it was good. The 3d I found a little distracting at the beginning, but I got used to it. Mark said that Avatar was much clearer and crisper in 3d - I guess I should go see it, some how it just doesn't appeal.

I liked the lead girl, she reminded me more of Gwyneth Paltrow than Courtney Love. That seems to have been the main criticism, that she looks like a heroin addict. I didn't see it.

Johnny Depp was good, not annoying at all, as I suspected. Helena Bonham Carter was great. Matt Lucas is a genius.

I want a Cheshire Cat.

Disturbing, or What?

My housemate watches So You Think You Can Dance, clapping at the bits he likes sitting in the lounge room on his own.

I find it disturbing.

It's something you'd expect from your special needs child.

It's just weird.