The Hibiscus is in Bloom Again

Sweetie, Darling!

I had a real Edina Monsoon moment.  I came to on my bed, I looked over at the bedside clock and it said 6.02, well, that is what I saw.

I gazed over at the curtains. Well, it is about the same level of darkness this time of year for 6am and 6pm. We're into those mucky, winter months. I couldn't tell.

"Yes, but is it am, or pm, sweetie? Darling?" I had no idea. Not a clue. I've been writing down when I've fed Buddy, well, he is the only living creature who's life and death, actually, depends on me. I just figured it was best to write these things down. 

I looked down at my Apple watch, it's analogue. My head spun. Funnily enough I thought it was evening, don't ask me what day then Mark Skyped me to tell me it was cold and what he was having for breakfast. Oops.

I can't wait to tell Sam, he'll spit his coffee. No he won't. He'll say something cool like, "And I'm proud," he can roll that r," that you are SO proud of your behaviour."

Nah, he'll say, "You must be loving me not being there to nag you."

"There's this white noise, it is hard to explain, that seems to have stopped. I wondered if it was an ear problem all along?"

"Very funny."

Sam's worried about Buddy too. Me and Bud haven't been for a walk for a week. Bulldogs, so it would seem, are very adaptable to sleeping on their owner's bed's for long period's of time. Buddy has slept with me since Sam has been gone. That dog can put in many hours of inertia, no problem. 

Of course, Milo is dependant on me too, but he's a cat. Dinner time and some how he magically appears in the bedroom the door to which is closed. I'm laying in bed. Suddenly, Milo is on my chest. "Purr, purr, feed me, feed me." The next moment I am on my feet and opening the bedroom door. "Yay, human." Milo glides down the stairs in great cat fashion. He is rubbing against my ankles in the kitchen as I reach for the cat food box. "Yes, yes, feed me, feed me."

Buddy either stands up on the bed gazing at the bed room door, or he jumps down onto the floor boards and stands facing the door, when he wants to go out. He'll look over at me, then look back at the door, if I don't pick up on it straight away. Then it is just me following him through the house, opening the appropriate doors at the appropriate times.

I had a misunderstanding with Tuan in the shower, we were both getting in at the same time. Tuan said he'd be 5 minutes. I waited and waited and finally I went to see if he'd finished. Not only had he finished in the shower, he'd left the house.

Balloons rising in the morning sky

Like a bull dog

You can often hear them, before you see them

Balloons in the morning light

There is something ookie  spokie about balloons in the early morning air.

All of that rushing silence, while slimming through the air.

Motion without movement, flying without wings.

I Think It Was Kafka

When your conscious becomes unconscious, you are drunk.

When your unconscious becomes conscious, you are stoned.

Afternoon Nap

Some bitch has got her baby outside the front of my house, and the thing is squawking, he looks up from between his pillow mountain, wonky-eyed woken from his nap. He doesn't know that for sure, it is an assumption. It could be a metrosexual with one of those snazzy baby back packs. It could be two queers proving their love is real. Really? Of all the houses of all the world, nay, of all the houses in our fair city, of all the crummy gin joints, you had to pick mine to which to bring your kid, he thinks. He relaxes his neck and rests back down onto the mattress. His head is warm up against the bull dog's furry head.  Buddy breathes rhythmically. The light is gentle. The baby cries.

My friend went to America and I got this bull dog t-shirt

Blue & white combi

Bird's Nest Soup

Neither Offered Up a Better Salutation

Do you ever think it is weird, when you are waiting for the coffee machine to run through all of its goddam checks and balances, that the chicken leg, breakfast, you so indelicately tore from the caracas on the square white plate tucked in amongst the overripe lettuce and the marg container with the half cut onion on its lid, was once warm and making "cluck cluck" sounds around your ankle region? Do you ever think about its heart beating, its body covered in feathers? No, I never have before. And I like chickens, it is one of my favourite animals.

I put Buddy out at 10pm. Mitch was in the lounge room wrapped in a blanket watching TV. I think his laptop has broken, so he has to go old school and watch the footy on teli. So no porn for the 22 year old, for the next few days, at least, I wonder how he'll cope?

The Lake House started screening… I must have fallen asleep watching it. Now there is a pelletised and bottled, subscription for falling asleep. They couldn't have done better than it they'd inserted Keanu Reeves IV into my bloodstream. (which part do you think I'd chose?) Keanu fucking me in the vein, it paints a pretty picture, now doesn't it.

Andy is heading back to the country for his father's funeral today. 

He said he was leaving at 1pm. 

I said, "Have fun."

We both stopped side by side int he kitchen, if only in silence, to momentarily ponder the inappropriateness of my response.

Neither offered up a better salutation.

Buddy spent the night in his kennel, but he scampered back up to my bed enthusiastically, me with my first coffee in my hand. I could almost make out the "woo-hoo" in the snuffles, like Scooby Doo.

The sun is shining, it is sunny Sunday. It is as good a day as any on which to get sent off. The first Sunday after you have died. I'm sure that had great spiritual resonance once. Funny what people once thought? Old Charlie, finally slipped his mortal coil. I was going to write him a poem, but I didn't. Too monged. I've never met him, of course, I've just seen a few images of him on Andy's Facebook, it is a bit hard to get any sense of someone under those circumstances. So, no poem for Charlie. Perhaps, that is what I should call it?

Sam is the plotting the death of children. Oh yes, hello and good morning to you too. Apparently, 20 kids on monkey bikes to be specific. "They just ride around and around, not going anywhere..." Apparently, I was to aide and abet this crime most fowl. "They all have to die, they woke me up." You can do almost anything, but don't get between Sam and his sleep. It never goes well. My honey needs at least 8 hours sleep to be a pleasant human being. He got sick of my lefty, pacifist, non-fatal, bullshit pretty damn quickly and declared "Off with their fucken heads," in his best Alice in Wonderland tones.

"All I need is access to a semi-automatic weapon," were his parting words.

Sam's been baby sitting the kids while the adults run the family business  He's been looking after the nephews  actually, with all those boys over there, he's been looking after the one neice. He should be sweeter, then by my reckoning. But disturb his sleep and you die, I've had some looks, let me tell you. And yet, he is the one who is incapable of letting me fall asleep on the couch, go figure.

I really must go and floss. It is one thing to not shower for four days, but not to floss, it is inhumane.

"The fat" boyfriend sure has got a bum wiggle on her, as though someone once did tell him his arse looked fat in that. He's been self conscious in the way he walks ever since. I see as I gaze down from my balcony as he heads across the street, tippy-toe balarina-style, my Statler and Waldorf routine on the inhabitants in the street.

Andy got picked up by a dowager in a Mercedes.

Sloth

I'm watching the midday movie, talk about sloth. It's called Michael. Andie McDowel, Bob Hoskins, William Hurt, John Travolta. It seems to be a road movie. Some American dross. It is nicely shot. Nice Cinematography. I'm hungry. There is no longer any food in the house. Well, none that I want to eat, anyway.

I mute the ads.  The golden light of the afternoon glows at the balcony doors.

First, an egg into boiling water. I can cook you a runny yolk egg every time, it is easy. 10 minutes to boil from cold. It couldn't be easier. Chuck it in, turn on the gas.
I cut an avocado. Salt it, you can never over-salt an avocado and if you do, add more pepper.
I pull all the smoked salmon out of the packet. I lay a good amount over the avocado. I eat the rest. (It is only me, and this is the end of any thing edible)
I peel the egg and put it on the smoked salmon. Yolk oozes out, just after I run the fork through the egg, golden yellow.

Buddy comes down for a drink of water, and a piss.

I sit in the garden. A neighbour starts up his buzz saw. Like? Seriously?

Milo comes running in as if to say, make it stop, it is hurting my ears. I secretly hope that I am about to hear a sawing accident. Like punching a dead weight punching bag right in the middle, that would be the sound of the saw as it takes his arm off just below the elbow.

I can hear my other neighbours talking. The party boys are in their garden, two houses across. Seriously? Does nobody work around here?

It's like being in a rain forest full of chattering monkeys, one lose with a power tool.

The sad queens have a selection of newly washed undies on their line, red, white and blue, as they always do, when I go play mrs jessup up the back where the fence is missing. You don't need too many guesses to guess what those boys fetish is. I used to think the muscly dark-haired one was the cute one, that's why I called him the fat boyfriend, go figure, but now I think the blonde business like one is cuter,  that deep, sexy voice, those sparkling eyes. Although, with what I've been eating, I have no right to call anybody fat.

The buzz saw starts up again. I do hope he trips on that power cord and falls, soon, I think.

I chose the Bourne Identity and the Bourne Supremacy, for the films for this afternoon.

I've written nothing.

First light can take your breath away

I Drank More Coffee

I woke, 4.59am. The TV was talking, I hit mute. My world was quiet again. I smoked a joint, track pants, hoodie, explorer socks, balcony.  It's not warm at 5am. The balcony floor boards are cold under my feet.

Buddy sat up in the middle of the bed making a "Gak!" sound, as I come back into the room. I took him out the back. He disappeared into the dark of the back yard, walking off fearlessly until the shadows engulfed him and I could see him no more. Silence, not even the faint sound of a paw digging in the garden. Not even the rustling of leaves. Buddy comes running back down the garden stairs and inside at a sprint. Job well done. 

I dropped a huge turd. I only mention it, in case there are squeamish amongst you, as it was a huge relief. I'd woken up feeling somewhat uncomfortable and it took me quite some time to work out why. 
I drank more coffee, sitting on my balcony in the dark. I bought it upstairs with me, with Buddy. The strong taste of coffee first thing in the dark morning air, as the world wakes and get's dressed and heads out its collective door's.

A bike road passed with no lights on. It couldn't be seen. Just a figment of what might have been there, sliding through the shadows.

A car started up, out of sight. A Commodore pulled into the street, with big sweeping lights. It stopped momentarily on the wrong side of the road. The newly started car commenced to back out from the drive way opposite. The Commodore took off again. The station wagon backed out into the street and took off in the same direction as the Commodore.

A bike rode by the other way with a bright head light, it sparkled like the biggest diamond.

Buddy lay in the middle of the bed, settled down in the puffed up doona, like an Elizabethan gown. He breathed heavily, not quite a snore.

6am. It is still dark outside. Cold.

Buddy snores from the bed.

And then the incredible dawn. It is awe inspiring as the world is reversed and the light begins to shine from above, no longer artificially from the bottom. The sky lights up bit by bit.

Trucks begin to move along the streets. Cars drive by. Reversing beeps begin to sound. The whir of life can be heard. The first tram clunks along the tracks and then slides away to some where else.

It's freezing. I'm hungry.

I eat muesli and yogurt with pomegranate.

I watch Ellen. Our lives are full of American dross.

The party is over and everyone had a good time

As the bomb goes off

Sublime

Sublime is dunking a chocolate coated Scotch Finger into an espresso coffee. 

The shortbread, chocolate and coffee flavours are simply divine. (Too Gay?) Give it a try and see how gay you can be. - can't you hear that as a voice over for an add, with some deep guy's voice talking.

Soap Dish

There is only one thing for it. We have one copy, still in its cellophane, of Soap Dish. I picked it up at the Dick Smith closing down sale for $1. That will be the second, alternative, feature for today, we're lightening the mood somewhat.

Good cast. I remember it being funny. But, I haven't seen it for many years. Let's hope it hold up.

Drink Water

I keep drinking a lot of water, I figure that is a good thing to do, but I piss a lot. This movie has got more intermissions than a lap-dancer's panties.

Hugo Weaving's, The Interview, is the final feature in our program for today. But the DVD case is empty, the DVD is missing. Curses! We are forced into a longer intermission while the technical difficulty is sorted out. And perhaps, a wee calmative is consumed.

Beard

I hate it when my beard is longer and I can feel it on my face.

(still feels as though I am talking about an adult and not myself, on some level)

Peanut Butter Toast

Peanut butter toast is better than ice cream. Tell me that peanut butter toast is better than ice cream. Anything with 'butter' in its title has to be good for you. Right?

Diet back under control

Suddenly, Buddy has been out for hours.

I went and got Buddy at 4am.

I got muesli a moment later. 4.10. (The exercise must have got my stomach juices pumping) Suddenly I was hungry. Mitch was in the toilet, but I managed to get to the kitchen, get my muesli and get back upstairs without him seeing me.

Who takes a shit at 4.10am?

Buddy and I fell asleep to A Place In The Sun.

Buddy went out at 10.30am. He stands right on the edge of the bed and gazes at the bedroom door, then he swings his head around to look at me, when he wants to go out. I fed him at 6am, the real 6am, not 6pm masquerading as 6am. I've got the diet back under control, no more ice cream. Oh, I ate a mountain of ice cream, I'm going to regret that. Although, I think I am drinking a lot of coffee. I seem to be spending and inordinate amount of my time waiting for the coffee machine to come on and go through its start up procedure.

Buddy is in his kennel.

I must drink some water every 15 seconds, or I will die.

Is it bad to go back to bed? I think I need to watch a modern film. No Buddy to cuddle up to. I choose Capote. Even if it is a period piece, and all my bemoaning on films being "in their time." I love the sparseness and the detachment of this film. It is one of my favourites.

The council guys with the leaf blowers are destroying the mood, some what.

And the leaf blower just keeps coming right on back. How many fucking leaves are there? And why couldn't you get them all the first time? Why, oh why did I not watch this in the lounge room?

I'd like to lube his arse and insert the leaf blower into him.

My diet for the next week is chick peas and tuna. And perhaps a green salad.

The herd is getting bigger, four new elephants recently

So Who Knows?

Did you sleep with him? asked Sam.
I slept with him, I replied.
I never thought I'd be having these texts with Sam.
Did he pee in the bed? asked Sam.
You now may be questioning the calibre of my gentlemen callers?
Then again, some of you would not.

Two friends of mine, David and Sebastian, [that's right, you know] recently had a falling out about Tully showing his scat photos at dinner. [it is a much longer story. I'm paraphrasing. You are welcome]
I was shocked that one of my friends would have scat photos, but the issue seemed to be that he dared to show them while people were eating, not that he had them at all. It is a slim point, I grant you, but a point none the less.

So who knows?
He snored loudly in my ear, honey, so I just thought it was you anyway, I said.
How rude, came Sam's reply.
Actually, I'm making it up now, so I thought I'd better send that message to Sam for real, do some research. I'm waiting on his answer. 

You guys must be having good bonding, came Sam's response. Oh, how sweet.
Early morning, watching cartoons.

He sent me a photo of his two nephews, who have grown so much.

Sam's family couldn't wait to see him. They all went down to the train to meet him. The last leg was by train. No budget airlines, that is Sam and my promise to each other when we are overseas. Not that there is an airport in his home town. But no budget airlines is a promise we do make to each other none the less.

Jill wants me to go to a house auction with her.
Then comes Sam's next message. Get out of bed and do something, it is alarming that you are staying in bed.
Its not alarming me, I reply.

I watched Desk Set.

When I Told Sam About My Behaviour, He Answered With The Short Line, I Have No Words.

I woke up at 5.10am, with my neck bent up against the wall and the TV yapping. I’ve got a blocked, runny, snotty nose. Buddy snored next to me. Where am I. 5 unanswered messages from Sam on my screen. They are from hours ago, how long did I sleep? I send back a flurry of answers. No response. I try to work out the time in (name of country). 10pm?

I’ve got cigarette butts lined up in the palm tree again.

I sit on the balcony at 6am and smoke a joint and listen to the sounds of a big city waking up. Truck doors banging. Cars approaching and driving passed. The sound of feet scurrying down the foot paths, like vermin in the shadows. Bangs. Whistles. Sirens briefly in the distance.

Buddy is still asleep on the bed. That dog has a steal trap for a bladder.

I contemplate porn at 6.30am. It is still dark.

Buddy retires to his kennel after I feed him at 7am.

I put the bins out. A bit groggy granny dear. It didn’t help that I walked down the laneway smoking a joint, as I rolled bin out over the cobble stones, in my crocs, with explorer socks. (that is the real tragedy here) If you can walk down a lane way at 7am with a joint in your hand, you can do it in Fitzroy.

I made more coffee.

Mitch doesn’t stir. I’m sure he should be getting up at 6am and leaving for work. Mitch is new, I don’t think I have mentioned him yet. A new housemate.  Tuan moved out. Andy's father just died, literally, in the early hours of this morning, so he is with his mother. It's just Mitch and me.

Someone in Portugal keeps reading my poems. Secretly, I hope it is Ed Sheeran at his holiday house/recording studio in Portugal. His problem has always been the words, it has been the words that have always held up his song writing. But, with my words, he records a whole acoustic album called Urban Poet, with my poems, during his summer brake. He gives me a good deal and my percentage of the world wide smash hit sales comes in at millions.

A poem a day. It was Ode to Fitzroy today.

Morning television is on my screen. Thankfully, mute is on. I can see its beige tentacles trying to reach out at me from the screen, but as long as I have my wings of steal flicked on, the mighty mute, I cannot hear it and it cannot reach me.

Hepburn, Davis, Taylor

Old Acquaintance, Davis. The African Queen, Hepburn. Who is Afraid of Virginia Wolf, Taylor. One, two and four. 

I've got nothing of Streep's. Number 3, on DVD.  She belongs in that company, yes she does.

That is today’s program.

Shhhh. I have never been able to sit through all of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. The film wears me out.

Old Acquaintance has the famous scene where Bette David chokes Miriam Hopkins, a woman better Davis despised in real life.

In African Queen you get the greatest actor of all time staring with the greatest actress of all time. No one it is such an enjoyable film.

Full of ice cream, predominately chocolate

WOA, brother! It must have been a while. Good grief  I ended up yakking up my breakfast for a long 30 minutes. I haven't done that for the longest time. On the bathroom floor. All over my arm. Drooling from the mouth. Heaving in the stomach  Sweating like a dying man. Halfway through it occurs to me, even when I have finished chucking, I still had to clean the bathroom floor, head spinning. Good thing Sam wasn't here to see that. He'd look at me and ask questioningly. "Best you could do?" He'd roll his brown eyes. Then he would raise his hands to his brow, raising his hands skyward after that, as though he was looking for some great celestial intervention.

Then it was back to sleep.  Me and Buddy. And when I looked over at the clock again to see it was 11.11am, I was well pleased. I walked into the city and got the cds.

The Old Maid was a period piece, I hate old period peaces, I like films to be made "of their time." So that came off. Melodramatic pap.

I walked down to Coles and got 2 tubs of ice cream, Gooey Chocolate Brownie and Tiramisu.

Buddy decided to retire to his kennel for the second sitting.

And now it is Old Acquaintance. Me and Milo.

I just realised that I am full of ice cream, predominately chocolate. You know, since I lost my breakfast. Grimace.

Grey Tuesday

I put Sam on a midnight plane to Singapore last night. He'll be gone for two and half weeks. Buddy slept with me.  It is overcast and grey today. It's Tuesday. I've got a bag of pot, a five movie box set of Bette Davis and a 2 day old trifle.

Oh yeah, my boss called, I should call him back. Grimace. Oh, what do I care about money. I'm becoming a poet, like I was when I was 17. I'm trying to write a poem a day.
But first, I should take Buddy out for a pee and make coffee.
Me and Buddy and Bette and pudding and nothing planned. It sounds like a great day to me.

I've Called People Darling All My Life – Tallulah Bankhead

Tallulah Bankhead one of the great old broadway dames. They don't make them like Tallulah any more. She is often quoted, here are some...


"I've called people darling all my life, dahling, because I've always been terrible at remembering people's names," said Tallulah Bankhead. "I once introduced a friend of mine as Martini. Her name was actually Olive."

When asked for her opinion on whether a male celebrity of the time was a homosexual, Tallulah Bankhead said, "Well, I don't know, darling, he's never sucked my cock."

My daddy warned me about men and booze, but he never said anything about women and cocaine.

Only good girls keep diaries, bad girls never had time.

They aren't making mirrors like they used to.

Codeine...bourbon... Tallulah Bankhead's reputed last coherent words

Second Puppy

So, puppy number 2.

We headed to (suburb name) where the pups were at 11.30am to see the bulldog puppy by 1pm. Tom Tom told us how long it would take to get there. An hour and 20 minutes. As we were getting to (suburb name) we stopped at a huge BP roadside café on the Mornington Peninsula freeway and bought Oporto Burgers, we were hungry. We'd had avocado and smoked salmon and a boiled egg for breakfast, but now it was lunch time. I'd never had Oporto Burgers before, neh, they are fast food take away burgers, not much more I can say. Oh, the big roadhouse, they are like shopping centres for fast food, we don't question them, I don't think. Still, there were a few cuties to gaze at.

(name), the breeder, text us and said the puppy’s mother was sick and was being taken to the vet, so we couldn’t see the puppies. We were still welcome to go to the breeder's place to see the father. So we did that, we headed to her place not far away. (X), the father, was gorgeous, a big, bouncy red male. He was gorgeous, which is a good thing, hey? We met the grandmother too, she was lovely. At one point I had the two of them at my feet one in each hand and I said to Sam, "This is what it is going to be like to have two." It made me smile.

Sam smiled too.

But, we didn't get to see the puppy. Oh well. She is only a week old, so seeing her was kind of a little premature anyway.

Sam heads off overseas on Monday night to see his family and will be gone for 2 1/2 weeks. So, we'll go see the puppy when he gets back. Probably makes more sense anyway, as she will be much more developed by then.

There is something so lovely and serene about morning light. There is no equivalent purity at any other time of the day

Walking the dog, down the streets and through the parks, the pink sky shone down on us as it started to say good night.

The back streets and the laneways of our fair suburb, as the sun sets and night falls. I love the twilight sky, it is moody and serene all at the same time

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

A simple question,

Why can't we all just get along?

Why?

Why is that so difficult? Really, we are much closer with our similarities than we are apart from our differences?

You'd think it would be easy? Well, much easier than it is.

Here is a species that developed from the same origins, or are really very much alike and yet we have never managed to live in harmony. 

Of course, some of us have. But not all of us? Certainly, not enough.

Ego and greed, the two things that make us great, also make us evil. 

"Use your powers for good, Jimmy!"

And then BANG!

I lay in bed for the morning with Buddy and Milo. Sam bought me my breakfast, isn’t he sweet? I kissed Sam good-bye from bed, I didn't get up. I snuggled up under the doona, Buddy next to me (snoring, of course) and Milo over my feet, as cats do. It was lovely and warm, he he. Such is life. What can I say?

I got up at 11am, thinking, as nice as this is, I can't live my life like this, you know, just because people tell me that I can't, and I went for a bike ride.  An hour around the bike track along the Yarra. I am trying to do it every day.

I was coming around the last of the floating-on-the-river bike track where it heads back onto the dry land, where it does a bit of an S bend and heads under the freeway for a bit. I was going a little too fast. It was a momentary lapse, singing along to Anastasia’s Don’t Stop, my judgement was not what it should have been. I hit the second part of the S bend and my bike did that bounce, bounce, bounce, sideways skip and I nearly lost it, for a split second I was heading straight for a concrete freeway pylon. 

"Fuck me dead, Universe!" 

I managed to hang on, correct, correct, correct, with small twitches of the handle bars and not an over reacting jerk correction, and I held on and rode out the curve and kept myself up right and on the track. I wasn’t really sure how. It had been right on the edge of going over altogether. I was a little shaken, adrenaline was pumping, my nerves were all a buzz, my goodness what did I just do? 

And then BANG! A bee, or a wasp, flew into my face at high speed and stung me just below the right eye. It felt like being shot in the face, or how I imagine it might feel to get shot in the face. The pain was instant and the sting was really fucken painful. It hurt so much, it felt like the critter was still on my face still stinging me. The bullet was lodged in my skin. Talk about going from one emotion to another, from big fright, to huge relief, to excruciating pain, all with in seconds. 

I had to stop really fast to get the thing off my face. I jammed on the brakes. I skidded to a stop. I hoped there wasn’t anyone behind me. It wasn’t on my face, but the sting just kept getting more, and more, and more, and more intense. I groaned out loud in pain so strongly that two girls walking a dog nearby both gazed over at me and kept their eyes on me until they were out of sight. Their faces questioning if I was friend, or foe, I could see that. Is he a nutter? their faces clearly said.

So what to do? Should I keep exercising with the sting poison in my system. Aren't you supposed to keep relatively still after a bee sting? I was halfway around the bike track from home, so what could I do but keep riding. I’ve been stung by bees before and have never been allergic, so I guessed I would be okay. And I rode home with my face throbbing constantly. What did I have to look out for? Breathing difficulty? I was riding a bike, I thought, how could I tell?

Four hours later, my face was still stinging.

This morning, I can still feel the slight pain lingering under my right eye.

The bike track in the long shadows of the day

Lovely Melbourne, as pretty as a picture

Well, That All Went Wrong

We had to pay the deposit for the new puppy by last Tuesday. If I am told to pay something by a certain day, I will pay it on that day, not before, that is just me. If we didn't pay, that was okay too, as it is a big decision. The breeder would simply put the puppy back up for sale, not a problem, she would understand, it is a big decision, after all. She seemed quite reasonable.

Sam called the breeder Tuesday with a number of questions he had to ask her. Then, once she had given him the answers he wanted, he was going to tell her that he would pay the deposit immediately after he'd finished speaking to her.

Easy peasy? Right? Right.
Um? No.
That is not how it went. It went horribly pear-shaped, ending with the breeder saying that she was left feeling hurt. 

I asked Sam what he said that upset her, he swears he said nothing, other than asking her the questions he wanted to ask. 
Could he see her dog association membership card?
Did she offer 6 weeks insurance for the puppies, like other breeders do?
Why were her puppies $700 more than an equivalent breeder?
He says she just turned on him telling him not to waste her time as he was clearly not interested in buying a puppy, as he hadn't even paid the deposit.
So yes, there seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding.
Sam can be pretty blunt, I know that, maybe the breeder didn't know that. And when it started spiralling out of control, Sam says he just couldn't be bothered talking to her any longer.
"Oh, if she is going to be like that..."
"Like what?"
"Rude and unreasonable, I don't want her puppy then," said Sam. "It is probably better we found out now, that she is clearly dodgy."
She didn't seem dodgy to me. I don't think she was dodgy.
I think Sam must have caught her on a bad day, as she seemed nice enough to me when we met in person.
And we did want the puppy.
Sam likes to ask questions. Sam likes to question everything before he makes a decision. I think it is a good quality, (most of the time) but I am used to it. He has very little patience for people who don't have answers to his questions.

Buddy and Milo are in for a surprise?

As we are? Shaken out of our comfort by a midget from hell. Chucky with four legs?

So what were we thinking? When I lay in bed at night and it is dark and Sam can't see my face, I wonder this too. What are we thinking? The blank canvass. The training? The toilet training? The wrecked garden? The chewed every thing. The little monster for 12 months?
Dear Universe what are we thinking?
I think the same thing in the morning, as Buddy and Milo lay curled up next to me in bed, relaxed and serene.
All of that being as it may, there is nothing more gorgeous than a new puppy.

So, puppy number 2 has been lined up. We get to see it on Saturday.

Kelly O'Dwyer - One more of the entitled Liberal Party politicians

Kelly O’Dwyer, "We want to grow the pie, so we can give the poor people more crumbs, while we give the rich even more pie!”

Mother's Day

I didn’t post anything to my mum on mother’s day because she is dead. She would agree. She’d laugh and say, “What nonsense posting messages to dead people.” Big eyes. “Goodness me, what next?” Shake of the head. Laugh. “Now go and do something real, go and enjoy yourself.”

“I will, mum.” And I did. (I’ll tell you all what that was shortly, stay tune.)

“Invest your money wisely, just how I taught you, so you can do what you want to do, see the world, whatever you want,” mum would say. “Don’t you worry about me. I had a good life. I’m just fine.”

“Thanks mum. Thanks for everything.”

Malcolm Turnbull Is A Sell Out

Every time I see Malcolm Turnbull on TV, in his stupid orange tie, with his stupid Sydney accent, doing the Liberal National Party election ads all I can think is, Oh shut up Malcolm! You are a sell out.

Malcolm Turnbull Sold Out his principles for power. He turned his back on what he believed in for a title, that of Prime Minister. That is worse than standing up for bad principles. He Sold Out  his principles for prestige.

How can anybody trust Malcolm Turnbull?

Meet the latest member of the household. Yes, this is bulldog number two. She is yet unnamed. She is not old enough to come home just yet, a couple of weeks, so we have plenty of time to think of a name for her.

If I was asked, I would have said that one bulldog was enough, however, Sam has never had a puppy, so I am happy to have a new puppy too. Life is short, enjoy it. She will be great, I can hardly wait. Puppies are as much fun as they are hard work and they are hard work.

I wrote Bill Shorten, being a famous 2 bulldog owner, an email on what his thoughts were on buying a second bulldog, I am still waiting for his reply.

Isn't she lovely.

Buddy and Milo are in for a surprise.

Yarragon - it almost looks like sunset in the desert

Busy day in the country

Gorgeous morning light

Nice shorts, mate. The boy had a big dick bouncing around in his shorts with every step he took. I love that look, just got to stop my head bouncing around as my eyes follow it.

The sky was radiant blue riding my bike around Melbourne today

I went over to Dante's place to see how he was. He seemed a little strung out. He's good though, getting better. There is a good chance he will make a full recovery, but he's not there yet.

Have A Nice day

I have had an American phone number calling me for the last week, (it has said United States on the screen every time it rang) which I have ignored, as I ignore all calls that my phone does not recognise. This morning they called again, so I decided to answer, only to hopefully stop them calling again.


(Sweet, apple pie, female voice, West Coast, Los Angeles accent) "Good morning, could I speak to Rachel Green thank you."


"You have the wrong number."


"Oh, but this is the number we have for a sales of (something, I didn't catch what it was) and I just need to confirm some details that we have for Rachel Green before we can..."


"You have the wrong number."


"This is the number that we were supplied with the sales documentation and before we ship the (whatever it was) it is our practice to check the sales documentation for the sales item that was supplied to us by Rachel Green, so I just need to confirm the shipping details of the purchase for Rachel Green before we can more forward with the sales conformation and the delivery of the item to Rachel Green..."


"You have the wrong number."


"Oh, I see. As I have already mentioned, this was the number that was provided to us..."


"You have the wrong number."


"Oh, well, I see. Yes, well, thank you for your help in this matter. I am sorry to have disturbed you in that case, you, please have a nice day for the rest of your day with whatever it is you may be doing. And thank you again for your help in this matter. Have a nice day.

"No problem."

These were really cool clouds, if only I could have reached up a little higher to take the photo, but don't those colours make your heart melt just a little

I love the long afternoon shadows that stretch to forever

Oh them Christians, always been the enemy. They bring it on themselves, always trying to take away somebody else's rights because they don't match their beliefs. That is the difference nobody was trying to take away their rights, despite what they may have you believe.

These Are Not Extraordinary Times, Mr Morrison

“This cannot just be another budget, because these are extraordinary times,” Mr Morrison said in delivering his maiden budget tonight.

Um, really? I'd like to disagree with you Mr Morrison, these are not extraordinary times. It is just business as usual for most of us. The only thing "extraordinary," about these times is that you are fighting for you political life and that your useless government has the possibility of getting back into power. I agree, another 3 years of your dithering, ideology driven, right wing, Christian, govern for the rich nonsense could be "extraordinary" for this country. (But we will fix that come July 2nd)

The potential for you losing your job may be "extraordinary" for you, but not so much for the rest of us. We're all just going to work and living our lives like at any other time, trying to decipher the lies you politicians continue to tell us.

Just because you say these times are extraordinary, for your own political, spin, purposes, it, actually, makes them no more extraordinary that any other times.

Malcolm Turnbull is a Sell Out

Marriage Equality

You know, I've never really cared that much about marriage equality, for myself. I've just never been that into it. I don't know why, I've just been kind of neutral about it. I've never really understood what the advantage was of a ceremonial function in confirming one's relationship.

However, that is just me, and clearly other people feel differently. Many people say it is important to them, and the rest of the Western World has decided in their favour, which is wonderful. It means we are a fair and just world society, which is less homophobic than we may otherwise think it is.

But you know, in Australia, now, it just seems to be getting quite ridiculous. The endless talking, the continuing discussions, the debates, all the yap, haven't we heard it all by now? What more is there to say? It has been legalised by many, many countries in the world and what has been the consequence of this? Well, nothing, other than the world continuing to spin and a group of adults who always wanted to get married have got married. No skies fell in. No sink holes opened up and swallowed Sodom all over again. What else does Australia need to know?

The people who believe in The Almighty will always be against it because of the ancient manuscript they believe is the word God. We know that. Surely, we don't need them to state their religious beliefs over and over again. Their religious beliefs haven't changed, as they keep assuring us in 2000 years and counting.

The practising Christians now amount to something like 8% of the population.

Practising Gays amount to something like 10% of the population.

From all accounts, something like 70% of the population think that marriage equality should be legalised.

So, two questions,

Why are we spending, what is it, 160 million dollars to find out something that we already know? That the majority of the people think that marriage equality should be legalised. It doesn't really make sense to spend so much money to find out something we already know. We could spend 160 million dollars on the poorest schools in Australia. Wouldn't that make a huge difference to those schools? We could spend 160 million fighting poverty. 

I don't know what the Christians get out of marriage equality being legalised, or not being legalised? If marriage equality remains illegal, or if marriage equality becomes legal, how will the lives of Christians differ under each scenario? 

Christian's lives won't differ under either scenario.

Development encroaches on the Yarra

The shops are open, the wealthy, the healthy and the lame