Maaate... Suck My Dick

It was a bright sunny morning this morning. A pulled-back blond-haired, gold sunglasses wearing, pointy-face chick driving a grey 335 BMW convertible hurled herself around the [name of my street]/Gertrude Street corner, accelerating quickly towards Victoria Parade, so hard that all of her engine values opened up, like I am sure her snatch did against the leather seats. She quickly caught the small Hyundai hatchback that had been in front of me at Gertrude Street, that had just managed to slip across Gertrude before blonde-fantastic took over the road. I caught up behind her when it took a while for the black hatchback to get around the corner.

She turned right somewhere and I left her behind.


As we crossed over Hoddle Street, all the morons were sticking to the right hand lane. Idiots. There are two lanes, you dicks. Sometimes it has its advantages, if all the lobotomised humans stick to the right lane, I could pull into to the left lane from behind the black Touareg and slip passed just about everyone on the road, even passed a big truck that couldn’t decide what lane it wanted to be in. I’m assuming, it was moving from the right lane to the left lane, but really, such lazy driving. I slipped passed it, no problem. The red Prelude finally decided it wanted to be in the right lane and not the left lane, so it took off after the other dopes, which then left the right hand lane relatively free.


I heard the diesel engine of the truck rev and could hear it engage first gear and pull up next to me. The cute wog boy in the hi-viz vest and beanie looked down from the open passenger window that seemed a whole story above me.


“Hey maate, didn’t you see the truck here?” He was trying to be really smart and threatening at the same time. That kind of cool threatening serial killer kind of tone.

“I’m sorry.” Oh spare me, you halfwit.

“Maate… have you ever heard of giving way to trucks?”

“Mate, have you ever heard of the left lane,” I pointed to my car, “and the right lane," I pointed at his truck. "Why don’t you try picking one.”

“Maate, how would you like me to make your car a convertible.”

“Mate, I can’t hear you?” I was considering saying I couldn’t hear him to everything he said.

“How would you like me to make your car a convertible?”

I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “That would be great, maaate.” I wondered if the crow call mimic of his expression was too much. “I’d love a convertible.” But I am not sure if the big lug really got it. The traffic began to move and I zipped off the mark, while dick head and his boof head buddies shuddered to life in their 2 toner.


I glanced in my rear vision mirror to see the three idiots, three across in the cabin in Hi-viz vests in the Hino Truck. They looked like the old “not so squeezy” add. I bet they were enjoying each other’s pressure on each other’s thighs. The big closests.


The traffic in front of me in Victoria Street on the other side of Church Street intersection was banked back to the intersection so I stopped with Larry, Curly and Moe still right behind me. I stopped at the white line the next car to go. I waited to the last minute until the Church Street lights changed to orange, despite the traffic moving forward some what, and then I accelerated across the intersection leaving the big lumps to rub their thighs together (One in three, they say, so one of them potentially had half a mongrel) as I left them behind at the now red lights.

Suck my dick, mate, I thought.

Hello Handsome

We took Buddy to the dog park. It was a lovely sunny day. Sam and I had “played up” (if you know what I mean) on Friday night, and we needed to get out in the fresh air... for the first time… since Friday. Oh, other than that lunch but that was just Hainanese Chicken Rice and Nasi Lemak respectively. We stood there with our sunglasses on.

Buddy scampered around with the other dogs. We stood and watched, just our heads moving at the neck. Otherwise still.

When we were driving home, there was a bike rider coming towards us on the wrong side of the road, on our side of the road. As I like to say, that is the problem with the world, all the idiots.

“Look at this…” and then he got a bit closer and I could see the square jaw and the stubble and the handsome face… “um… er… cutie pants.” …the piercing eyes, the olive skin, the small riding shorts, actually, I didn’t see what he was wearing, but a boy can embellish… You know, so what if he is on my side of the road, sometimes you just have to cut people some slack, moi thinks to himself. Ha, ha.

Terrible isn’t it, in truth, that the way someone looks affects the way others react to them. 

Well? Um? Thinking about it, I guess not for the handsome. It’s not terrible.

What do we care if the beautiful get away with a lot more than we ever can? Good for them. Is it just jealousy? Or does the intrinsic unfairness of the situation matter? Does it matter? Or should we just suck it up?

Should we really give a shit because we know one day they will lose their looks and it will be relatively hard for them to cope?

I remember travelling around southern Europe with the amazingly handsome Canadian David and being told by gay accommodation houses, “The pretty boys don’t have to pay.” I guessed that just having David around would attract other gay men to stay in the establishments? I rode in on his coat tails... ta da. 

The Greek Islands were never more fun.

Maybe it was just the come down? Nyr? The bike rider, the beautiful, and David? Who can say?

I smiled at Sam. He smiled at me. And none of it seemed to matter anyway.

We turned into Church Street and drove away.

Shopping at Chaddy. I guess Mr Muscles did catch me taking a photo of him judging by the look on his face? Ah? What can you do?

Big shoes, not something you see every day

Busy Busy. Ha Ha. Ho Ho.

What a beautiful day. Hot and sunny. I went for a walk to Victoria Gardens, alas it was to buy cigarettes. I had to quit again and I nearly made it today, but at lunch time I suddenly had this overwhelming urge to smoke, bad me. I was nervous about the work I have been doing.

It was very hot by midday, and I was sweating when I got back to work. It was hot with a blue, blue sky, but also with a breeze. It was a perfect day, really. It would have been perfect if I had a Greek Island behind me and the Mediterranean in front of me.

As I walked back passed all of the lovely old Richmond warehouses there was a huge pair of shoes lying in front of one of them. They were huge, kind of comical, legs with shoes lying on their side.

It wasn’t until I got back to the office that it occurred to me to take a photo of them.

Rats!

My job is so easy, amazingly so. I tried to have a meeting with my boss last Thursday to review the work I have done, thus far. It has been long overdue. In fact, I haven’t had much to do for the last week. Longer. My boss was away for some of those days, in the last week. I’ve been filling in the long days with very little. My journal, mostly. Oh, did I say that out loud? Anyway, my boss has been hard to catch up with. I don’t know what it is “they” think I have been doing. I stretched it out as long as I could because, quite frankly, no one seems to have been concerned about what I was doing. But it is boring not to be busy, of course.

I spend most of my day emailing Sam, backwards and forwards. He he.

I have been given a very specific role and I have done it, don’t get me wrong. I have done what has been asked of me, but I can’t proceed any further without my boss answering a few specific procedural issues. I can’t help but think it is the easiest job in the world.

Anyway, last Thursday morning I asked him if he wanted to talk about it. “Yes, I do. But can we do it after lunch.”

“Sure.”

So, I was waiting for him to say let’s go through it. Then there were dramas in the afternoon and he didn’t seem to look in my direction and say, “Let’s do it.”

Friday he was in Sydney.

Well, today, as we did the round table talk thing about what we’d been doing in our weekly meeting this morning, he responded to what I said I’d been doing with, “You were supposed to see me last Thursday but you didn’t come and see me.”

Oops.

So, today I stalked him and made sure we had our meeting today.

“Sure," he said, "but can we do it this afternoon.”

“Sure.” I was a bit nervous as I know how hard I have been working.

I got to see him in the afternoon. I gave him two options that I had prepared for him. He loved what I had done. He was happy with the easiest of the options. He gave me a couple of things to be added to the work. He is now gone for the rest of the week. The couple of things I have to do now I should have done in a day. Easy. So again, what does he think I will be doing for the rest of the week?

Still, I’ll be gone when the assignment is done and I won’t be there when they have to update the project themselves, so I guess I’ll never get found out.

I’ve got three days to include a head count formula.

The truth is, as Cathy has told me a couple of times, the department was a very unhappy place and they were all threatening to resign, essentially, due to poor management from my boss. When I came in and did my first contract unbeknownst to me this was the state of affairs. I was asked back because I was competent… and, surprisingly, because I was funny, a breath of fresh air is how Cathy (my other manager) described it. I think mostly it was the competent side of me that they liked the most, but happy me had something to do with it.

I thought that was kind of nice. So, it is a finance/therapist kind of role that I am doing. Ha ha.

I guess what it tells me is that I probably need to stop being slack and get myself a full time job, rather than faffing about with contract work.

We ate rice noodles with pork belly and bok choi. Yum, yum. We watched all of the channel 9 comedies – The Big Bang Theory, Two Broke Girls, Two and a Half men. Then I watched Q&A in Mumbai when Nana S went to bed. I was in bed before midnight.

Good legs on the jogger

A Sexy Bunch of Boys

The roads were quite busy with traffic, as I headed down Victoria Parade this morning. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. Monday morning. Ah! Shake of the head.

A special mention has to go to the shaved head builder in my street with his pert, bubble butt in his dark blue work pants that fitted him so perfectly, having a bit of a stretch on the road side of his ute.

And another special mention has to go to the shirtless jogger in the short baggy black shorts with flashes of his red jocks showing, above and below his black shorts, with the amazingly sexy muscular legs, glistening with sweat running down Victoria Parade.

And another special mention has to go to the bike rider in Victoria Street at the lights looking back in my direction, still with his leg over the bike and his cute arse on the bike seat with the elastic of his undies showing. Very nice you pretty young man.

I don’t think I am normally such a perv, but the “form” on display, this morning, was difficult not to notice. 

All that beef. Big exhale.

cool VW Fastback

Sunny Sunday

I was up at 8.45 with an aching wrist. I don’t know why? It felt like repetitive strain injury, but does that come on so quick? It ached with pain.

I wrote on my computer for a while. Actually, I read on line news. Then I tried to do some writing, but I couldn’t find my usb. I tried to sneak back into the bedroom, to get my USB and then return to my computer to do some writing, but Sam woke up immediately and then Buddy ascended the stairs and came snuffling into the room.

Then we were all awake… and I didn’t write anything. My morning writing was gone… oh well.

I made coffee and muesli, what was left of it. I piled on the bananas to make up for the lack of cereal. Then I did all the weekly washing, as Sam swept the back yard.

The sun was shining.

I asked Sam if he wanted to go to the dog park. He said yes. I messaged Jill if she wanted to meet us there, but she didn’t answer straight away.

Sam rubbed Tiger Balm on my sore hand. (I stll hate the smell of it)

We walked to Victoria Street and ate Vietnamese. I wasn’t allowed to take photos as Sam was in emergency food mode. I ate Broken Rice, Sam ate rice paper rolls with meats and we both ate a plate of mini Vietnamese pancakes.

Jill called as we ate, she got cut off as soon as we got connected. “Hi it’s me…” nothing. I waited for her to call back, she didn’t. I guess I should have called her, but I didn’t. I asked the question, she was supposed to provide the answer, I guess. The food distracted me. We saw her yesterday, the allocated shopping day. Sam wanted to go to Costco. I reminded him yesterday we mindlessly shopped.

We bought food for dinner. Sam threatened to buy bitter melon to make salad. I told him the only thing it was good for was a dildo. He made the purchases, I carried the bags. My sore hand held no sway. But it did hurt.

We watched the drug dealers do drug deals.  The attractive Asian chick around 30, who I’ve seen down there before and who seems to do the supplying. Hair pulled back, beautiful eyes. And the big guy in track pants who looked like he has a cock like a horse. He handed over something to a guy in front of us, with that customary palm slide and then he seemed to take something from behind one of his teeth. Then it was over and he was back with the Asian chick, smiling revealing his missing teeth.

We walked home. It was a beautiful sunny day. I took photos.

I was talking nonsense on the way home. It started with a discussion about the pork bone we’d bought Buddy… and it went from there. “And then the pig police arrive and accused us of hog homicide and all we could do was oink and take our trotters out of our mouths.”

I said to Sam that I’d post it on Facebook and I bet someone would like it, as they do on Facebook. It makes me wonder sometimes if people even read what I write. I sometimes wonder if there is any depth to Facebook? It exists for a lot of noise to be released.

It was a sparkling day. Sunny, a lovely day to be out in it. It was one of those shiny, slip along with ease kind of days. Kissed by the sun and everything seemed stress free. The sky shone blue, the light was crisp and encouraging.

Sam rubbed more Tiger balm into my hand when we got home.

We walked Buddy down to Messina to buy ice creams instead of taking him to the dog park. Shrug! Wide eyes. Hands turned over in mid air. We also had a couple of things we’d forgotten to buy earlier in the day. Cat food and milk. The ice cream shop had a long queue out into the street, there were people everywhere. I think people are so bored now a days, they’d go to the opening of anything. We saw Gavin and Phillip who were inside. They came out with their ice creams, which I refused a taste of, but Sam tried. He said it was far too sweet. Apparently, it is meant to be super creamy.

I left Sam with them and went to Woolies. I had instructions to get milk and cat food. I wanted and yogurt and bananas for breakfast. I impulsively bought cloudy apple juice. I bought three different types of muesli with the intention of mixing them together with the extra sultanas I’d also bought.

Sam thinks he saw the pit bull that attacked Buddy on Smith Street. The pit-bull was on a thick chain and it barked when it saw Buddy as though it still wanted to eat him. Of course, Buddy wanted to go over and say hello. The (presumed junkie) owner eyed Sam as if he may have recognised Sam. He text me in the supermarket to tell me. There was no sign of the junkie or his junkie dog as we headed home.

I made raspberry jelly with mandarin segments.

We ate pork belly and Bok Choi.

My hand only hurts a bit now.

Shopping in Victoria Street on this Sparkling Sunny Day

Chillies and peppers at marked prices

But dad, you still haven't told me why?

Love among the cucumbers

He was rising from the grocery shelves like a...

Apples $2.50 a kilo

iPhone 5

I got the new phone. Sam has been telling me that he will give me some instructions on how to use it.

Ha ha, ho ho. It is a mobile phone, what is there to learn?

So, this morning, I leapt right out of bed, I picked up the phone and pushed the button at the top to turn it on. I didn't have my glasses on, but I know the button is at the top, that much I can do.

I pushed and pushed, but the damn phone didn't come on. Then I realised I had the phone upside down.

Sam was sitting up in bed looking straight at me... with that look on his face.

Anyway, time to take photos, for my blog, that is really what I wanted it for. Better photos. I don't care about communicating with anyone. If I could just turn the damn thing on. Ha ha.

No Mobile

I've had no mobile phone for a week. Shrug, what is the big deal? 

Sam has bought a new iPhone 5S and I am getting his iPhone 5, mostly because I want the better camera. I had to cut down my old sim card from my Sony to fit the iPhone last Sunday, just to see if it would work, as my phone provider wouldn't provide me with a new sim unless I signed up to a new plan. 

I'm with Crazy John's which is now handled by Vodaphone. So, I had to go to Vodaphone to get the new sim, but they wouldn't give it to me unless I gave up my much better Crazy John's plan that only has twelve months to run and sign up to an inferior Vodaphone plan for 24 months. 

Lucky for me the cut down sim works.

But after I cut down my sim last Sunday I couldn't put it back in my Android phone and I don't get the new phone until tomorrow.

I haven't missed the phone for a week. Some of my friends are amazed. Do you think we are too addicted to our mobiles? How often do you go somewhere now a days to see everybody looking down at their smart phone screen?

Cats and dogs, Venus and Mars

I was doing labels for folders, at work, it was a quiet afternoon. I hadn't done them before, but how hard can they be? I ask you? I'm usually good doing such things. Some days, I don't care what I do, it is enough just to keep busy. I hate sitting around doing nothing, the day drags. I'm happy to help out.

I had to ask where the labels were. Then, as I was heading back to my desk, I asked, "Which way do they go in the printer tray?"

“Read the instructions, don’t be such a man,” said Cathy, pointedly. Christine tut tutted. A collective roll of the eyes, knowing (girl power) laugh.

“Oh, okay.” Funny how it is perfectly okay to criticise a man for being a man, but if you dared say the same thing about a woman? (I guess we do, however. Don't be such a girl. But that is usually a boy on boy comment) I get it, I understand the reasons why… men have a lot of bad behaviour to make up for… and I can take it, I don’t really care. It is just interesting the way society is going.

So the instructions were…

Place down up (tray)… scrawled on the inside of the box lid. I mean, how stupid of me for not taking in such definitive instructions. Would I dare to comment on the inexact level of female instructions? No, I would not.

I'm a sucker for an old Holden

Cool, isn't it. My favourite Holden

Barracuda

I went into the city to buy Christos Tsiolkas' new novel Barracuda. My favourite author. In Myer it was $32. In Big W it was $16. Half the price? How the hell does that work? I can imagine a few dollars difference, but half the price?

Sam was telling me all the whole time that I should buy it online and use his eBook reader. I scoffed at the idea. I still like the feel of the paper and the smell of the pages as a part of my book reading experience. However, it is actually a large book and heavy to hold up and I probably should have taken his advice.

Still, I wouldn't have had the Hong Kong style desert as a part of the shopping experience, if I'd bought it online.

Just say no

We talked about the latest sex scandal (as such) to come out of the armed forces, at work today. The young boy sailors who are being raped, or sexually penetrated, with pens or drink bottles on the birthdays, as a form of initiation.

J piped up (the youngest of the team and such a Charlotte, if you go in for Sex in The City character profiling) “Why don’t they just say no?”

A (the other HR girl, who I just think is great and who, from all accounts, thinks the same way about me) and I just broke up.

“If it is all the same to you…” said A, with big eyes. “I’d rather not.”

“Thanks all the same, but no,” I said, “But thank you for thinking of me…”

A and I laughed.

"We aren't talking about consensual sex," I said.

"Oh," said J. "Well how else would it happen..."

"They'd be held down," said A.

"By a group of men," I said.

"Oh, well that's not very nice," said J. She screwed up her face.

A and I laughed some more.

Street lights and headlights

Gravity

We went to see Gravity at iMax. Sam wanted to go to the dumpling shop after the movie, but I wanted to come straight home afterwards and do more photo scanning. I know, pathetic. Oh I shouldn’t be so hard on myself… I know, enthusiastic. It is just a little one-eyed, I guess.

We had an hour before the movie started at 6.30 at the museum. I wanted to get kebabs which we could eat while we were walking to the cinema. Sam wanted to have Huxtable hamburgers. We opted for the hamburgers. The last time I had them they were small and expensive and ordinary. They are still expensive, but they were quite nice and a step above ordinary… but still kind of small.

Gravity was okay. It was nice to look at. Cool in 3D, even if I think my 3D glasses had seen better days. It was visually beautiful. But, still kind of American in places. Americans are not ones for doing subtlety generally, or believability, either. And I don’t really like Sandra Bullock, she has so little subtlety to her, or deft of hand at acting. She is very much a two dimensional actrine. Sometimes you have to play somebody else other than yourself. Sometimes you have to transform.

It was nice walking home in the cool night air. We watched Top Gear. I scanned more of my photos. Then there was the second episode of Top Gear on, I scanned, Sam headed up stairs earlier than his earlier than normal nana time, 10pm. I stayed up until midnight.

The museum awning

Working On My Photos

Just before Big Brother came on, I asked Sam about the printer/scanner in my study. The new one, the one I have barely used as a printer and have never used as a scanner. I decided that I should give it a go to see if it could scan photos, or not. 

It was particularly an image of me, Mark, Lauri and Dean, in which we all looked handsome. The four of us looked great, actually.

It worked. WooHoo!

The images were sooooo much better than the grainy images I came up with last time I scanned photos on that other scanner that I used. Admittedly, that may have been 6 or 7 years ago and clearly the hardware/software has vastly improved. 

I also have Photoshop now and can work the images over well. 20th Century images being given the 21st Century software tweaks.

When I said that I’d rather stay in the study and scan than come and watch Big Brother, Sam suggested moving the printer into the lounge room, I guess, realising he may not see me otherwise for the rest of the night.


I stayed up late scanning. It was exciting to think that my photo collection could be completed. Instead of being permanently on hold, as it would seem it has been, due to so many missing negatives, I can now complete the missing images.

It is amazing how the images come to life when you view them on a computer screen and not in a sleeve in a photo album.

Edna Krabappel

What a tragedy, the actress who did the voice of Edna Krabappel has died, and it has been decided that the character will be retired from the Simpsons because of it.

She is one of my very favourite characters, ever. She is great. What a shame. She appeals to the cynic in me. She has made me laugh so much over the years.

I'll miss you Edna.

Oops, Sorry Mate

I was driving up Victoria Street on the way home and, as usual, it was busy. A van was turning right in front of me. The car directly in front of me was a lousy driver who, I suspect, was on their phone and driving slow. So the two of us went to the left around the van turning right. The traffic in front of the van was banked up from the front of his car, so me and useless in front of me kind of squeezed around in front of him. I was concentrating on the van and I was concentrating on the idiot car in front of me. 

We finally moved forward. Unfortunately, or not, there was ute coming out of the side street, who I didn’t see, or I did but didn’t care. I was concentrating on other things and I didn’t let him in. It was hot and we all had our car windows open and the next thing I knew the ute driver was abusing me. Yabber, yabber. I’d moved forward I didn’t really hear what he was saying.

The traffic in front was banked up, so I decided to turn right at a street further up Victoria Street. The next thing Mr ute driver was next to me and yelling at me still. I turned to say sorry to him, but you know he was on a stop sign and I had the right of way, and as I looked into his angry face I really meant to say “sorry mate,” but it came out as, “Listen here buddy, I don’t fucken care if you live or die, mate,” instead. He started tooting his horn, as the traffic coming towards me broke into a gap, and I turned right leaving Mr About-to-have-a-stroke behind.

Surely being let into a main road from a side street with a stop sign is a privilege not a right?

Dressed in a Towel With a Very Red Face Doing Peculiar Things

As I drove down Nicholson Street Abbotsford to The Hive to go to the chemist, there was a youngish, kind of fit, bloke in the middle of the road only dressed in a towel with a very red face doing very peculiar things. 

When I drove back up Nicolson Street from the chemist, he was still dress in a towel and he was still doing peculiar things, but he was now surrounded by about five policemen.

I guess he started his weekend partying early.

You know, get as out of it as you like, but why don't they stay in doors, that is what I often wonder?

An Apple a Day

While visiting a friend in the hospital, I noticed several pretty nurses, each of whom was wearing a pin designed to look like an apple. I asked one of the nurses what the pins signified.

"Nothing," said the nurse. She smiled. "It's just to keep the doctors away… specifically, the married ones." She smiled again.

 

I Like The Rain

What a funny old day? It hasn't stopped raining since yesterday, or was it the day before? Actually, I like it. I like the drops of rain falling from the branches of the trees. I like the way the rain makes all the colours of the garden so rich and intense.  I like the feeling of everything being wet, glistening and shiny and fresh. I like the moisture in the air. I like standing under the veranda and watching the rain fall, as I stay nice and dry. I like the sound of it on the tin roof, the finger-like strumming of the raindrops against the house. 

I like the rain.

Home Sick

I got to work feeling fine. The office seemed to be hot when I got there, but that is nothing new, as two of the five girls in the office must have reptile blood running through their veins, as they always complain that they are cold.

My manager arrived late, complaining about the heat in the office as soon as she got there, so I thought, maybe, it wasn’t me.

I felt, essentially, fine, I made a cup of coffee, and got to work. But then I started feeling sick, and the office still felt hot and I felt sweaty. The back of my shirt seemed to be sticking to my skin. Not long after, I started to get a really bad head ache, starting as a painful dot in the middle of my brain expanding exponentially, like a bladder of pain was being inflated in the middle of my head. I tried to do a spreadsheet for one of the HR girls and I could barely get it together. I was feeling nauseous. And hot. I was having trouble concentrating. It was at this point, I decided I needed to go home.

I got home feeling nauseous with an aching head.

I lit a fire, which may not have been needed now that I am stripping off clothes again.

I pissed around on my computer, looking at pictures of Rihanna posing outside a mosque.

Then I decided to make some lunch. There was pork belly in the fridge, Sam told me. All I had to do was cook some rice. Cook 3 cups, the rest can be used for fried rice. Don't forget to rinse it.

Don't forget to rinse the rice.

Don't forget to rinse the rice.

I rinsed the rice. I would have done it, without reminding. I tipped out all of the white starchy rice water, with the intension of giving the rice a second rinse. I was just tipping out those last drops, when the rice pot slipped out of my hand and most of the rice fell into the sink.

Bugger!

There were our dirty breakfast bowls in the sink, covered in soapy water, as I'd washed my hands before I started to rinse the rice.

I decided, at that point, just to stop trying to do anything and pull the blanket over me.

I lay on the floor with Buddy in front of the fire for the rest of the afternoon, listening to the rain fall on the roof. Listening to him snore in my ear, just like Sam does. I pulled my hoodie over my head. The flat floor was surprisingly comfortable, I thought, as my body drifted in relaxation.

Yay, Monday

OMG! Meeting first up. 9am. Hello Monday morning. An HR team meeting, where I had to pretend to give a shit. Oh... ha ha... where I had to... um... think, be productive and contribute.

Not that I am really complaining, no not really, I've got a job, after all.

It is still baffling to me how I ended up in HR, however, after all the things I have written. Ha ha. Proof, that no one needed, that there is no god. Would it be termed cruel irony?

Then it was a meeting well into the afternoon to discuss the notes we took at the 2 day conference. Yay Monday. And I work with all girls, so I couldn't even sit there and imagine them in the underwear, if they have hairy chests, or foreskins.

The universe knows I don't want to imagine all those mystifying little string things and that extra chest flesh.

If you'd killed me around 1pm, I wouldn't have cared.

Do you think all gay men have an underwear fetish? I had the odd dirty thought when all those GM boys came down in their suits for their quarterly meeting. Damian's arse in grey wool... that's all I'm saying. But, alas, that wasn't today.

 

Bored on Sunday

I'm sitting here typing up my notes from the two day conference I was on on Thursday and Friday. My gung-ho boss has organised a meeting for us Monday morning to get together and compare and collate notes.

Legislative changes to employment legislation.

Can I tell you how bored I am?

Sam is on the couch behind me... seemingly without a care. (Grrr) Buddy is lying next to me, stretched out across the carpet. (Rrrr) Both asleep.

The sky has just clouded over grey and the light has seeped out of the room as if was pulled out like a single piece of material.

I think it is about to pour with rain, I am sure.

The music has stopped. It is very quiet and still. The only noise that can be heard is the clip of the keys on my laptop as I depress them.

Sam is breathing rhythmically.

Buddy is quiet, unusually.

The wind blows the trees occasionally out in the garden. (rustle)

It feels like a Sunday where we've done very little. It feels like a weekend where I've had my choices taken away from me. It feels like a day where I am unable to do what I want. What would I call that? Working on the weekend? Working from home? I don't know, but I don't really want to do it anymore.

Oh, come on, whatever, write faster, I think.

Replacing The Tram Lines

Victoria Street, looking east. Big boys with their big toys. 

We headed down to Victoria Street for some lunch, and it was awful with all the dust in the air from the digging up of the tram tracks. Grit in our eyes. Grit on our lips. Victoria Street was unusually deserted.

I had Pad Thai. It was really sweet. Sam had Hainanese Chicken Rice. We swapped half way through.

Victoria Street, looking west. They should absolutely make that vacant block on the right a park. All the old Asian woman who sell produce from their boxes in the street, would have a lovely place to hang out during the day, among others. It would transform the whole street scape into more of a village feel.

Perhaps, The NSW Bush Fire Victims Are Getting A Taste Of What They Voted For

I wonder if they are Coalition electorates burning in NSW? Just wondering. It would be interesting to work it out, I reckon.

Just a little taste of what their voting (stupidity) may be bringing to them in future?

Last month was the hottest month NSW has ever had, last summer was the hottest summer ever in Australia, breaking many weather records. And this is the earliest start to a bushfire season Australia has ever had. 

Climate change is here and it is influencing these bushfires, so repealing carbon pricing is quite possibly the worst thing we could do. 

Voting for a government that promises to repeal climate change mechanisms is, quite possibly, the second worst thing we could do.

In the words of Barack Obama, denying the reality of climate change is the equivalent of belonging to the Flat Earth Society.

There you go Flat Earthers.

The Afternoon Peak Hour

Walking home with Sam after work. It was a lovely afternoon. I had a conference all day on St Kilda Road. I met Sam after work at the La Trobe Street Hungry Jacks. He wouldn't let me eat any food once I got there because I'd taken so long in getting there and he'd finished eating his. "No." Push in the chest back out the door. The St Kilda Road tram, what a nightmare. They should so build that underground train line, the length of Swanston Street and St Kilda Road. The city needs it.

Buddy Checking His Mail

Buddy, the cutest dog on the planet, but I might be bias

 

Fucking Up the Inner Suburbs

The ugliness that property developers expose us to every day in the pursuit of lining their own bank accounts. This is a hideous development in Victoria Street Richmond, really awful.

The Inconvenient Truth

Apparently, the climate sceptics have won. The great unwashed wants to believe them, rather than the scientists, as it fits in with their budgets better. You know, fuck the orang-utans,  fuck the future of the children, let's repeal the mechanism that could possibly save us.

Beyond belief.

Everyone is so caught up thinking about themselves that they want to believe the people who say there is no problem. Yeah, good onya. (bucket, sand)

It is hard to believe?

What does Joe and Josie Blogs think is happening to the weather? What do they imagine the future of their children looks like?

I jammed my finger in the door. I was putting Buddy out and he wouldn't go. He stopped once outside, but not clear of the door. I pushed him, it was windy. I just about got my hand back inside, before the door slammed shut. On the end of my finger. It fucken hurt.

Let's Party

Today is the day. We don’t have to do anything else except pass the hours away, move into the afternoon, 5pm. No more sleeps, none. Nothing else to organise, all done. Except maybe Monday off? It was all sprung on me, by Sam.

Christine is away today. Is she away on Monday? I don’t think so. I should just take the day off, don't think about it, just ask. It makes it an expensive “pastime,” so to speak, I lose as much in wages as it costs. Still, it is better than going to work wasted after the... um... er... celebrations. 


I was all done and ready to roll at 8.05am. I can’t work out these mornings, some days it seems like I have done nothing and I am pushing for time, other mornings it just seems to flow and I’m ready to leave with time to spare.


The police seemed to have a car stopped up Little Smith Street, next to Trippy Taco. They had the occupants out of the car and appeared to be starting a search of each of them. The car's doors and boot were open.

It was 8.10am.

That’s kind of topical, I thought, considering what we were about to partake in. I had to think really... coincidence? How much "drug business" goes on in this nick of the woods? It is a modern world, after all. I suspect the degree of drug participation is in direct relationship to one's home's proximity to the CBD.

So, the cops had the crims on the tarmac. 8 o'clock Friday morning? I would guess they are doing their weekend deliveries?

I wonder if the cops ever feel horny when they have those boys on the ground as they frisk them. Their hands could just go a bit further up the inner leg than was required. Just up against the bulge, briefly. Over it, momentarily  If it was a drug bust, I'm sure that gay coppers would be able to look in the boy's undies without any explanation required. A cute young criminal, hot and horny.

"Now I am going to have to search you," says the turned on gay copper. You could imagine what is going through his mind and he tells the cute young thug to "undo em."

I’m sure it’s happened. A particularly cute young criminal type, who need the front of his pants searched to check if he was carrying. Imagine feeling his well packed jocks. He'd squirm, but there'd be, essentially, nothing he could do.

The guy lying at the back of the car was big and fit, he was on his stomach and he looked like he had a nice arse. One of those cocky Western Suburbs Arab boys, or a muscly Greek. He’s tested the merchandise during the night, he struck out with the ladies, he finds, to his surprise, that he likes being manhandled. The gay copper took him back to the station for a full cavity search in private, just him and the kid. He complains about inappropriate touching afterwards, but none of the other cops listen.

Um… er… well, that’s what I thought as the cop cars and the stopped car quickly passed by on my right hand side.

Such thoughts for so early in the morning, as the annoying woman in the Yarris in front of me put her righthand blinker on at the last minute. Shake of the head.

I thought about Monday off, a lot first up at work. Then I just decided to ask. That leap of action… stop processing it and just make the call. The time for thinking is over, the time for action is here.” 

“Yes, of course, no problem.”

“Christine is not away on Monday, is she…”

“It wouldn’t matter anyway," said Cathy. "We are very flexible here.”

Done. I emailed Sam. Apparently, he even has a contractor in on Monday who he has to attend to. Poor him.

Then I pissed away the afternoon, with a knot in my stomach. Now I'm home and... a few pipes down.

Birthday Weekend

My credit card payment was due tomorrow. Damn! It came into my head as I started the car. I’ll do it tomorrow. (What? Set up internet banking?) I think. I slip the car into gear. 

But, Cathy was going to be late in today, something to do with her mother to which I didn’t listen. Mother, mother, old, sick, needs attention, yap, yap, whatever.

I’d only forget tomorrow. Of course. So, taking advantage of boss lady’s absence, I did it today, even if I was leaving a bit late, as it was. I slipped off to the post office parking the car in a permit zone, (I have off street parking, so why do I need to contribute to the council’s parking tax) It meant, I had to hurry, not that I didn’t have to hurry anyway.

I got to work at 8.36am, job done. Not so late, not so late that anyone would care.

After the small joy of getting my new Org Chart to work, if only on a minor level, I am buoyed to continue with it today.

Pissing away the day, hey hey, pissing away the day. No, not really, but I always feel a little that way when I am left to my own devices at work.

As it turns out, Cathy is possibly away all day, tending to her elderly mother. But, you know, she is such a dedicated working type (read stupid with it) there is a good chance that she will be turning up later today anyway. (take a day off, live a fucking little) I’m sure there is a boredom issue here, what would she do for the rest of the day? Or something like that. There are identity issues involved here too, but I can’t be bothered discussing them.

She was at her desk when I returned from lunch.

Sam is funny. He suggested a certain course of action for my birthday, but that didn’t work out as we couldn’t get supplies in the required time frame. It has to be scheduled for a Friday night, but Mr South Yarra couldn’t get stuff to us until midday on Saturday. No good. I’d imbibed just a little of my (green) goddess, hick, and I didn’t even realise until I hung up the phone. 

Sam mentioned the time frame difference, once I was off the phone. 

So, I had to call back. “No chance for Friday, at this stage,” he said. They aren’t nearly as friendly on the second phone call, let me tell you. 

“Yes?”

“Blahdy blah blah…”

“No.”

Oh.

So, that was that. We had vague discussions regarding Mr South Yarra and collecting it from him half way through the weekend and keeping it for another time, but that was as far as we got.

We walked to the supermarket. That idiot dog wouldn’t walk anywhere else. I was pissed off, as I waited. I hate it when he does that. I wanted to text Sam that I was going home because, of course, Buddy will walk home. 

I made seafood risotto.

After dinner, Sam got some messages and then he asked me if 5 points for $350 was good?

“Sounds good.”

“He’ll be over this way later, he will message me when he is on his way.”

“Who? …?”

“A contact I got.”

“I haven’t got Monday off…”

“It is your easy day, don’t be a baby.”

He got another message a bit later. “Where is the corner of Blah Street and Smith Streets?”

I told him.

He’s funny, he said he was going to meet this guy, on his own. As if I’d let him do that. “I’ll drive you.”

We had to go to the bank and then to the meeting spot. Car parks were at a premium, Thursday night and all. We found a park in Smith Street and waited. 

The next message came, he would be there in two minutes. A black 220. Sam got out of the car and walked over to the meeting spot.  Moments later, a black 220 pulled up, over the crossroad, lights on, engine running. Sam got in. “Text me when you want more,” he apparently said, after the deal was done. You’ve got to love that. It is always hard when you don’t have a reliable contact. Sam got out of the car again. The 220 did a neat u turn and was gone before Sam was back in the car.

Good old mobile man. One of the (dick sucking) brotherhood, apparently. Good for him. Good for him trying to get ahead in life, make a little extra, it is industrious. I thought the govt wanted us all to embrace free enterprise? 

Then it was the usual procedure, Manhaus for lube and poppers and then Woolies for Up & Go, (the preferred meal replacement misbehaving weekend supplement)

I was told I should start preparing the long beans when I got home… but, I vetoed the food instead. Lately, when it doesn’t seem to work, we have always eaten just before hand. Shrug. I don’t know, but it is worth a try, I reckon.

Wet Wednesday... as Happy as a Camel

And did the rain come down. Shit, did it ever. Lovely. I couldn’t see it from my side of the work pod, but when I was bothered to get off my arse and take a look at what everyone was talking about, I could see it falling heavily.

It was the earth crying at Mrabbott becoming Prime Minister.

Or, was it because I wore crocks and socks around to the shops?

Who knows, but I know which I’d pick.

I like it, though, the rain. I like standing at the office window, watching the people running between the huge drops or, at least, attempting to, or the cars swishing through puddles one after the other, swish swish. I like looking out the window and seeing the huge drops seemingly bounce on the bitumen, like bullets, shattering like crystal, in some sort of slow motion orgy of water indulgence. Pow pow! Pow pow! ...

There were rivers whooshing down the gutters as I drove home. There were sheets of water moving across intersections like carpets. 

It rained and rained.

It’s always nice, on days like those, to get home. Home is like a comfy jumper and slippers you pull on out of the rain.

Buddy was well and truly parked in his house, looking out with big brown eyes. He wasn't getting even one paw wet.