Politicians condemning people attending protests are attempting to destroy democracy, essentially.

I Love Autumn, such great colours

Shopping In Smith Street

I’m waiting out the front of Woollies with Buddy and Brun while Sam shops. The doorway to Woollies is disgusting by that time of day, assorted rubbish, an empty wine box, two plastic carry bags filled with who knows what, bottles of half drunk soft drink, no doubt pinched from the supermarket, discarded take away coffee cups, what was left of a smash asthma inhaler, an old jacket, some clothing material of undetermined origin and what looked like multiple stains of historic bodily waste, from various sources.

An old woman, in a beanie, and an oversized jumper, comes out of Woollies, she pushes her trolley over to the wall on the other side of the entrance to where I am standing.

I am writing on my phone, so I don’t pay too much attention.

I vaguely hear her saying, “I can help it, I can’t help it, I can’t help it, I can’t help it.”

Finally, I look up from my phone, to see her bent over forwards with her knickers and track suit pants around her thighs pissing up against the wall in the entrance way to Woollies.

She has on a beanie, that is pointy like a dunce’s hat, which makes her look ridiculous in itself, a huge oversized moth-eaten jumper, pale grey track pants, which are far too big for her, and grimy ugg boots. I can see her old cream knickers are grey and lank, against the blue/white skin of her geriatric thighs.

She is a sight.

She had, seemingly, tried to piss into a take away cup, which I hadn’t noticed initially, and when she tries to sit it down on the concrete, she manages to drop it a number of times, finally kicking it in frustration, but it just ricochets back at her when it hits one of the bollards in front of the supermarket doorway.

When Sam comes out, I tell him and the look on his face is priceless as he takes the whole scene in. When we both look over at her we can see her standing there in a puddle of her own piss.

Is that what we all have to look forward to, I think? Some version of that?

Prosecute Killer Cops, nobody is above the law

Autumn Leaves - it is like a painting by a great master

The Waiting Room

I headed to the dentist at 1.45 yesterday to have my missing tooth replaced. I was on time, to the minute, actually.

The waiting room was cleared of all the magazines, the table tops were clean and spartan. Just clean, presumably, sanitised lines.

I sat on the seat and waited. And waited.

Pump pack bottles of clear, bubbly goo sat on the counter.

I looked around and saw the book shelf had been cleared off as well, except for the bottom shelf which seemed to have kids’ books and perhaps some games. I guess you have to keep the little people entertained.

The second bottom shelf had one book, with a much smaller book sitting on top of it, right in the middle of the shelf.

Is that a...? I wondered. It is a...? I got up to check. It was a Gideons, what's more. And one of those tiny prayer books, which I always think are far too small for anyone use. (kind of a metaphor for religion itself, ideas far too small for anyone to use.)

Well, I thought, if we are going to clear out all the rubbish, we shouldn't leave the job unfinished. I stood up and took the Gideons and the prayer book and put them in the waist paper basket provided next to the book shelf. Well, if you are getting rid of the crap, you need to get rid of all the crap. Seriously.

If they didn't keep me waiting for fifteen minutes, I might not have noticed. I wouldn't have been sitting there long enough to get to thinking.

Of course, they will probably see the two books in the waist paper basket when it comes time to empty it, and they will probably retrieve them, of course they will, they'd have to be blind not to. But it amused me for a moment, while I waited, for the time they kept me waiting in the waiting room.

My new tooth took 2 hours to fit. It is lovely too, I guess, although unexpectedly lumpy behind. My dentist had warned me that it would be thicker than my previous tooth, but I assumed she mean 2 millimetres rather than one. This is much thicker than that.

I think I nodded off a couple of times during the 2 hours.

The Weird and the Wonderful

Sam wanted to have a shower around 11am. 

“Should I wash Brun?” 

Brun has been itching and scratching lately. And there was the smell of cheesy popcorn, I smelt, from earlier in the morning. 

Sam always wants to wash the dogs more, and I always want to wash them less, and recently Sam showed me a YouTube video that said when they smell like cheesy popcorn it is time to wash them.

So, Sam washed Brun, which is normally always my job. I wash, Sam dries.

So, a little while later, I was walking Brun up Gertrude Street, you know, kind of cheating after he had a wash, walking him in the sun rather than spending forever bent over him with a towel, which is tedious. Drying dogs after a wash is my least favourite thing.

However, I decided Gertrude Street wasn’t the sunniest street on the block, so I was heading for an alternative route, when, of course, Brun determinedly started to sniff around the base of some of the trees, just before we got to Young Street.

“Oh, come on,” I said and I gave a tug on the lead. Brun resisted. “Oh, come on,” I said and I gave a tug on the lead. Brun resisted. “Oh, come on,” I said and I gave a tug on the lead. Brun resisted. 

You get the picture. 

I tried to pull him away from the object of his sniffing, so we could head out from the shade into the sun in Brunswick Street, so he wouldn’t get a chill. (I’m not really sure if dog’s get chills, I mean, of course they can, but not as easily as we worry about)

A guy standing in a shop doorway looking at his phone, looked up momentarily and smiled so gorgeously at Brun. Ah, how lovely. I’m sure I twitched my nose at him.

A woman standing in the next shop doorway with a mug in her hand, not exactly sure where she fitted in, turned to me and said, deadpan,

“Your fault for having a dog that looks like you.”

I looked at her, and initially thought, wow! What am I to make of that? She held my gaze, but didn’t say anything else. She just stood there with her mouth partly open. I was puzzled as to what she meant. In the next millisecond, I decided that this was one of those occasions where I didn’t have to, actually, say a word, and I didn’t. I just turned and walked away, a lost art. I told myself.

I think she was making an attempt at humour, but I don’t really know.

Brun and I walked down the west side of Brunswick Street in the glorious sunshine. Some of the old ladies where hanging out outside the charity shop sitting in those old fashioned rockers, that my grandmother used to have, (that’s the grandmother who drank brandy like a fish and chain smoked Kool cigarettes, and not the grandmother who was a property developer, you understand) that are covered in material and they press down in the seat to rock. They patted Brun as he passed by. 

One of them said, “A face only a mother could love.”

I thought, I have been hearing a version of that repeatedly today, ‘a dog that looks like you’, ‘a face only a mother could love.’ We seemed to have somewhat of a theme going on here.

I mumbled something about Brun having just had a shower, and I reached down and rubbed Brun’s fur and I was quite happy with how dry he was by that stage, but the old women in the chairs had lost interest by then and had looked away, and I was talking to myself.

We walked up King William Street and then up the pathway to the dog park and I was going to let Brun off his lead if no one was playing ball, he still being obsessed with balls. As it turned out, three black guys were kicking a soccer ball, so I didn’t let Brun off his lead.

We walked up a street to my street.

A woman crossed over my street from the other side and walked up th street in front of us. She was dressed in black with a pink cotton back pack slung over her back, she walked the walk of someone who was frail and hesitant. She had spider’s legs for fingers and she seemed to be repelled by the sun.

There was a helicopter flying overhead, at which she looked around as if it made her nervous. As she kind of cringed, I could see she looked a little like Bette Davis post stroke, but younger.

Then an unregistered white Mitsubishi ute with both its back lights smashed off pulled up next to her and the guy driving leant out holding something in his hand, which I couldn’t make out, and said to the woman, 

“I’ll give you $40 for one cigarette.”

She looked over at him and kind of recoiled.

“I’ll give you $40 for one cigarette.”

She shook her head in the negative. Or she intimated she didn’t know what he was talking about.

“The helicopter will pick you up and take you away,” he said. Then he sped off.

The sun shone. Brun and I passed her. As I got the rubbish in, she smiled at me with her disfigured face and then kept walking.

On the 6pm news I saw the guy in the unregistered Mitsubishi ute get dramatically arrested in Carlton accused of multiple robberies across Melbourne. He’d probably been arrested just after the cigarette incident in my street.

"I can’t breathe," by Claire Nobles 2020

 

Writing in Lock Down

I have half re-written my novel while I have been in lockdown. Amazingly, I think to myself that I could, actually, finish it. I have even come up with an ending, my main gay character, who has been single and fancy free thought the whole novel, and has never wanted to get married, will marry his boyfriend. 

I've been working from home, as has Sam. And as I only work Mon to Wed, I just started at the beginning of the novel one Thursday sitting at the coffee table with Sam as he worked and off I went. 

I have it all now planned out in my head. It is all pretty much written, the first draft such as it is. It shouldn't be too hard to rewrite it all. There is a lot to write, there is a lot missing, don't get me wrong, but I realised the basic frame work is there now.

P.S. Funny, the minute I came to this realisation I lost momentum. When I was just writing it with no expectations it almost flowed quicker than I could get it down.

But, as I said, a lot of it is written. And when it is written, even if it is badly written, it is so much easier to rewrite and end up with something good than trying to write the first draft. Writing gets more writing. Even if it is just notes, and it is way more than that, it is infinitely better than staring at the blank page.

The first draft is like having your blood drained, the rewrite is when it starts to be enjoyable.

They're Back

Oh, Jesus Fuck! The tourists are back in my suburb. The footpaths are suddenly populated with people again. BooHoo. I liked the social isolating, I liked the peace, I liked the quiet. Sam and I have been loving it, so nice and quiet when we left the house for the park with our dogs. I'm now just hanging out for second wave of the Corona Virus to hit to return things back to our 'new' normal.

I liked lockdown, my normally busy inner city suburb has been so quiet, it has been lovely. 

Firstly, it was just the crazies out there who didn't get the whole self isolation thing, it was like a psycho ward out there for a time. Toothless, crazy-haired people coming up to you with no understanding of social distancing, like some bad LSD trip. (I like the crazies, it stops the streets from becoming beige. Is that patronising? I don't mean it to be)

And then it was just the locals who ventured out of their caves with their pets, or in their jogging gear, and it was great.

But, last weekend, the great unwashed from the suburbs were definitely back. Boo Hoo.

Is it wrong to wish for a second wave of the virus to shut my suburb back down again? No? I thought not. 

Lockdown didn't make you fat

The Future of Earth, If We Don't Act

 

Eye

 

Toothless Old Hag

I had to have one of my front teeth removed, second to the left, if you are looking at it from where I am. It has been a problem for some time, due to an infection I got in my gum. I have never had a filling, but I have had all sorts of gum problems. You know that old joke, there is nothing wrong with your teeth but you gums have to come out, well, that is me.

I have explored all the options and now I am going to have a bonded bridge to replace it. I have to wait some weeks before that can happen, it is now schedule for June 10th, I think that is the date. I'm going to be one of the toothless until then. Ha ha.

Perhaps, I should get an old shawl and say, "Come here my pretty, pretty," when I am out in public.

Good thing we are still in lock down, and I am continuing to work from home, so I don't have to go toothless into the office. And, I don't have to go into how I was trying to save some poor kid from some bullies and got into a bar fight. I ducked every right hook that came my way, like a fucking champion, except for the last one. Damn it!

Oh, I guess I won't even remember in a few days times that I don't have a tooth. The beginning of June will come soon enough.

PS. A week later, I have forgotten I have lost a tooth.

Thylacoleo

Rah!

Koolasuchus

Deep Rumbles

T-Rex

 

Bbbbbbbbbbbbb

Rainbows

 

They are Judy and Liza's feet sitting over there on that park bench

Four Birds

Hoot! Who goes there?

Sunday Morning

 

Sunday morning walking home with your mate after Saturday night taking LSD at a club

Daisy

Daisy works her family’s dairy farm. Daisy milks the cows. Yes, ironic, she liked the irony of her name too.

Daisy is the prettiest thing you ever did see, this side of the black stump.

Daisy milks the cows morning and night, in her itty bitty dresses and riding boots in the summer, and gum boots in the winter.

“Oh, too much damn material just gets in the way,” says Daisy. “I need to be free and…” she’d smile. “Unincumbered.”

She milks the cows and then she climbs up into the hay loft and she reads until it was time to go and milk the cows again.

“I’m at one with my beautiful girls, I am very luck.”

Daisy likes the farm life, she likes short dresses and boots, she likes novels with stories and she likes farm boys.

“Oh yes, I find those boys almost the most fascinating things out here on the farm,” says Daisy. “I mean once you get supervising those farm animals, you soon get to know what comes naturally in this world.”

“And, I don’t have to go far to find them, either,” says Daisy. “Josh Johnson. Mitchell Riggs. Angus Groves. Liam Miller.” She points in the direction of the farms adjacent to hers.  “They are just about my favourite boys. And they are all practically next door.”

“Yeah, sure, Josh and Mitch and Angus and Liam have all shared my hay loft at one time, or another.” She smiles. “Each of those boys sure are good, er.” She smiles again. “Readers.”

The Fat Boy Dictator

Kim Jong Un has been missing for 20 days. Apparently, he had heart surgery, there was information that he was very sick after the operation, even some speculation he’d died.

Allegedly, before he took power after the death of his dictator daddy, his main hobbies were crystal meth, hookers and video games. Could you imagine the pleasure palace that involved? Can you? can you imagine the toys? And the drugs? And the girls? Image being one of those girls? 

“Close your eyes and think of Pyongyang, Choon-hee.”

So, perhaps he had just regressed, old habits die hard, and all that (what would you do if you were all powerful?) and, perhaps, one of his advisers had to head over to his palace recently, kick him and say, 

“Sober up fat boy, get out there and be seen, they think you are dead.”

I'm Not Downloading Scumo’s Coronavirus Tracing App?

There are only 140 person to person transmissions of Corona Virus in Victoria and we have flattened the curve, so why do we need Scumo's (Australia's most dishonest politician) app?

How is this app going to make things better, specifically? It doesn't. It is only designed so that Scummo can get the economy going again for all his business mates.

And what’s that you say? Amazon Web Services (AWS) has been chosen as the cloud storage platform for the Federal Government's coronavirus tracing app. (Reuters) Oh, what could go wrong with that?

And when Scumo works this hard to convince us of something, quite frankly, I smell a rat, Whiteside! A rat with a beard… er… virus app.

Our morally bankrupt Prime Minister says, "Download the tracing app, it won't compromise your privacy, trust me."

Seriously?

Out walking the dogs in that glorious sunshine

Day 50 – Friday, 1 May

The Australian Capital Territory enters the day with no active cases of Covid-19, with 103 people recovered and three dead.

Loosened restrictions in New South Wales and Queensland take effect. North of the border, family groups are allowed to go for picnics or to a national park; to eat a takeaway meal outside instead of scurrying back into their homes; to take a leisure drive within a 50km radius of their home address; and to shop for frivolities.

In New South Wales, people are allowed to have up to two visitors in their home, or visit other people.

In the Northern Territory, which has not had a new case of Covid-19 in weeks, the parks are reopened. Fishing, camping, outdoor weddings and funerals and attending the local swimming pool are back on the cards. In two weeks’ time residents will be allowed to go to the pub, provided they only stay for two hours and also order food. By 18 June, according to a plan outlined by chief minister Michael Gunner, everything will be back to normal.

The national cabinet moves forward its decision on easing restrictions to next Friday, 8 May. “We need to restart our economy, we need to restart our society. We can’t keep Australia under the doona, we need to move ahead,” Morrison says.

- The Guardian

It's Freezing, Which Always Pleases David

I woke up at 4am and went for a wee. As soon as I got back into bed, Brun came and stood by the bedroom door and wanted to go outside. So, I took him outside for a wee and a crap and then headed back upstairs after he was done and got back into bed.

I listened to Sam snore, stop breathing, snore, hold his breath, snore, hold his breath, snore. Usually, I just drift off back to sleep listening to him, but I couldn’t go back to sleep this morning. I am not sure why?

I got up at 4.45am. Ah, fuck it, my weekend has started anyway. Brun came down stairs with me and slept on the couch next to me.

I make muesli and coffee.

It is quiet at this time of the morning, I kind of like it, like nobody else exists in the world. I do like it. On my own, do what I like. I like it.

I write my blog. I write some poetry.

I make more coffee.

I decide that I am freezing sitting on the couch snuggled up to Brun.

7am. I built a fire. Ah, fuck it, for the second time this morning.

7.30am. Sam got up.

7.48am. We walk the dogs to the Carlton Gardens, it’s lovely in the morning. Then down Moor Street to Woollies. It is really cold. It is cold across my back.

8.34am. Buddy, Brun and I are waiting out the back of Woollies while Sam shops for food. It’s chilly, cold. Oh, it is so cold, biting, icy, not getting warm cold.

The workers on the building site at 250 Gore Street are really keen to chat. Oh, seriously, no, I think. Let’s not even mention that they have demolished heritage buildings to build their piece shit block of flats.

“Yes, my dogs are beautiful. Yes, I think you should buy one. Yes, they cost a bit. Yes, it is true about the stubborn thing.” 

Seriously, I just want to chill and write my journal on my phone, arse on the edge of the garden bed, ignoring the cold, trying not to think about haemorrhoids. (Isn’t that the wife’s tale, the cold gives you piles) Brun lying out, Buddy staying at attention. That’s how this should go. 

Besides, there isn’t a pretty one amongst them. The tradies. Their all on the old, fat side. No twenty somethings with tight work pants on, just old boys with paunches. Oh, if it hadn’t been cold, I might have been chattier. Sure.

I send David a message about it being Siberia. He calls me back to say just this minute he was going to send me a Siberia message. It always pleases him to hear it is cold in Melbourne, it justifies his move up north, I guess.

9am. We are home.

Sam has a head ache all day. He took the last Panadol’s.

11am. I go and do my TattsLotto – got to have something to dream about – and buy some more Panadol. Oh, we just can’t be out of them, everyone needs some pain killers to get through the years in these times. It’s essential.

Sam headed off to bed.

I eat tuna on toast and have a hot cross bun for lunch. I have to make my own, while chef is indisposed.

I re-write CJ novel draft all day. On my own, in the quiet.

It rains all day.

We eat tomato and meatball pasta for dinner.

I am home all day in front of the open fire, me and my two bullies, I can think of anyone else I’d rather spend my Thursday with. (with whom I’d rather, yes, I know)

Is it wrong to prefer the company of dogs over humans – Sam withstanding – no, of course it’s not. Get real, dogs are way nicer than people.

I always think it is weird that such pure of heart creatures would want to be friends with people, I have no idea why, but I’m glad they are. Humans need such a wonderful best friend with whom to walk into the future.

Conservatives Are Pathetic

5.50am. I could hear Brun walking around his claws clip clopping on the floorboards, so I get up and take him downstairs. It was dark. Early morning.

Milo is on his table wanting food. He has that feed-me stare where he fixes his eyes on you and his eyes just follow you until he wills you into the pantry to grab the cat food container.

I make coffee. Brun and I sit on the couch together.

It’s (my ex-girlfriend) Leah’s birthday, she is 250 years old… er… un, no, ha ha, that’s Captain Cook. She is? How old is she? Funny to think that. (The monster woman from the deep) I am sure, she thinks our estrangement is all my doing, and it is not because she is an overbearing pain in the arse. Nyr, whatever? Oh well, there you go. What can you do?

I stopped talking to her because she became overbearing. She never really tried to patch things up between us. She never really did anything to make things better. She’s too much of a self absorbed Sydneysider for that. You know they say that all the narcissists from Melbourne end up in Sydney, because Sydney is that kind of town. Melbourne people will call you out on it, Sydney people are too self absorbed to notice.

Anyway, I guess we had to stop playing ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend, it really makes no sense any longer. And besides, despite the fact I really loved her at one stage, and she really was my best friend, and at one point I couldn’t envisage life without her in it, um, how do I put this, it was just the time in which we grew up that threw us together, we should never have been together, I should have had boyfriends all along.

6.30am. I sign into work.

It rained and rained and rained and rained. It rained all day.

12 midday we ate fried rice for lunch.

No more than two people should be out in public together, with the exception of family and household groups.

James Cook’s critics can relish the irony that a global pandemic has diminished the planned lavish commemorations of his east coast Australian arrival 250 years ago today.

Many Indigenous people and supporters of their causes and sensibilities rightly view the lieutenant as the doorman for so many ills that followed, including the smallpox epidemic of 1789 that killed as many as seven in 10 Aboriginal people of the new colony for which Cook’s arrival paved the way.

Is there anything more pathetic than conservative politicians and conservative commentators, the self appointed champions of free speech.

Victoria’s deputy chief health officer, Dr Annaliese van Diemen tweeted – Sudden arrival of an invader from another land, decimating populations, creating terror. Forces the population to make enormous sacrifices & completely change how they live in order to survive. COVID19 or Cook 1770? 

And the conservative politicians and conservative commentators, the self appointed champions of free speech, lose their shit, calling for her to lose her job because she exercised her right to free speech.

In conservative world, free speech only applies to those people who are saying things with which the conservative politicians and conservative commentators agree.

China bristles at Australia's call for investigation into coronavirus origin. Beijing warns relationship could be damaged ‘beyond repair’ after Australian prime minister Scott Morrison cites ‘extraordinary’ impact of Covid-19.

Oh, boo hoo to China, it’s about the only decent thing Morrison has done.

I lay on the couch after lunch and slept for an hour. Oh, you have to love working from home. I am never going back to the office, have I mentioned that before?

I got back to work at 1.30pm. Back at it pulling it all together, deadline Wednesday, let's wind this shit show up.

I have everything done by 3.30pm.

I signed out at 4pm. And that is it for the day. Too much rain to take the dogs for a walk, so they didn’t get to go. We all stayed warm in front of the open fire instead.

We ate tomato and meatball pasta for dinner.

We watched teli.

I Lay On The Couch And Listened To The Rain On The Roof

6.45am. I was up. It was lighter, it was later. It’s nice, to be greeted by the expansive light instead of the usual restrictive dark. It’s nice to be up with the early morning bird call.

I’m up later? It’s a sleep in, I think, then I chuckle to myself. Okay, it’s not so funny, but you’ve got to take humour whenever you can, it’s good for the soul. Take it where you can, as the coffee machine boots up.

I made coffee and signed into work, you know, the usual morning drill. Get with the program, I say to myself. Stop thinking about things out loud… er… over thinking things, is what I was trying to say. Just ‘do’.

Emails actioned and answered. Loose ends tided up. Everything attended to that needed attending to. Woo… oh no, I can’t even say it, with figures and spread sheets, and… Hoo, there, I said it, are you pleased?

8.30am. I make more coffee when Sam is up. I’m loving this working from home. I am never going back to the office.

I read the Guardian and 9msn.

Prime Minister Scott Morrison has declared Australia is "not too far away" from easing its coronavirus restrictions.

Key points:

• Restrictions on some activities could be lifted next month

• PM rules out international travel restarting "anytime soon"

• National Cabinet meeting to discuss restrictions on May 11

Mr Morrison said Australia was "on the road back" to an economy safe from COVID-19 and that success could mean easing restrictions soon.

"You're already seeing that happen with many of the states and territories," he said.

But, Scott Morrison is an idiot, we all know that. He is only interested in governing for his political donors, you know, like all conservative politicians. They just want to rule for businesses, not the people. The have their eyes firm set on money, not humanity.

It was my deadline, everything should be done. I get to and pull it all together.

11.45am. My work was finished.

We ate Japanese pancake for lunch. I think it was the rest of the pancake batter from last night.

I looked at 1958 PA Vauxhall Crestas, online. (I had time to kill, clearly) I still want one. I love those cars, the ones with the unique 3 piece back window. But, I still need that warehouse, that should have been assigned to me at birth, to keep it in. To keep all my tatt in. The things I’ve had to turn down, or get rid of because I had nowhere to keep them, it is criminal. (Oh yes, I realise it is criminal on a 1st world kind of scale, but don’t interrupt 😬) My Cooper S. My Hillman California. Even my gorgeous 3500S Rover. I sold them all because I had nowhere to keep them. ☹️

At 2pm, I remembered the 1.50pm staff meeting. I was back at my work desk in the study quick as a flash. But, you know, they are all yapping so much they didn’t notice that I was late to log on. Oh, so much yap. Our big boss, the grand PooBah, loves a chat. Don’t get me wrong, he is a great guy, and a great boss, but he does like to talk.

3pm. Finally, I got the last of the expenses from Goong Chung. Jasus! Assistant financial accountant, my arse. I am going to hurry that boy up in future. (No, really, I'm going to pull his jocks down at the back and insert a pre-lubed fire cracker into his hairless sphincter) He’s just useless. He’s supposed to have the final paperwork ready at the latest at midday. Grrr.

I signed out of work at 4pm.

4.15pm. We took the dogs to the Carlton Gardens. The park is full of people exercising, all doing their allowed hour, I presume. So many people doing their hour?

We ate fried rice for dinner.

7.45pm. I fell asleep on the couch. Well, that’s what happens when you get up at 4am. (okay, I didn’t, actually, get up at 4am this morning, but I have been getting up early lately, and that’s what happens when you get up early)

9.45pm. I woke up. Brun was barking, bulldog on guard. Grrrr! Oh, he hears something, it could be a possum in the tree outside the lounge room window. “Hey, little buddy, shhh.” (I mean that in the sense of little mate, but it works either way. He is, in fact, the little Buddy of the house, when you think about it)

It was raining. I lay on the couch and listened to the rain on the roof.

New Art For The Wall

I was up at 6.30am. Back to work. Monday morning. My busy week, time to pull it all together. I make coffee and sign in to work. And get shit done. I focus and the time passes unnoticed, essentially.

Sam was up at 8am.

I fucked up big time this morning. I was doing a final upload to my two data basis, I got them wrong, so I went back to my backups to restore, and I’d managed to do two backups on the same database, instead of both, so the database for which I didn’t have a backup, I had to correct manually, entry by entry.

Grrr. My deadlines are looming. Coupla days, as they say. I’ve got to get it fixed, which I will,  I always do.

David called, he wanted to chat, I was flat out, and couldn’t talk.

We ate noodles for lunch.

A Grattan Institute report found the arts and recreation sector is among the worst-affected by the coronavirus shutdown.

Comedians have gone online to try and maintain their careers and income.

1.30pm. The guy delivered the two Keith Haring’s prints for over the fireplace. Yes, in the middle of the pandemic we found new art for the lounge room. I’d been looking for a while and nothing jumped out at me. Then Sam showed me two Keith Haring’s prints, Radiant Baby and Barking Dog, they are quite well known. I knew them but never considered them. 

I love them, to go either side of a large print we bought a few years ago of three old women, (that’s the best description I can give you) but with the current situation how would we get them?

The guy offered to deliver them. He wasn’t perturbed by the restrictions. Business is business, ay? I accepted. If he could deliver them, I’d buy them.

We met in the street, out the front of our place, socially distanced, masks on, that many rules we could follow. They look great, I think. The two pictures they replaced had been up on the wall for years. And I never really even liked them in the first place.

The old prints were so colourless, these look great in comparison.

David called, I was flat out.

I managed to get everything finished by 4.30pm. Phew! A bit late in the day, but it was what it was.

Shut it down. I’d worked long enough today.

4.30pm. We walked the dogs to the Carlton Gardens.

I called David. He bought the house in Gin Gin Crescent, Ocean Shores, know from hence forth as Open Sores. So, he can move away from the cold he hated so much. It is the end of the move to warmer climates project. It is the end of whinging about the cold. Oh so much whinging about the cold.

We ate Japanese pancakes for dinner. Cabbage and noodles with ham, and mushroom shavings covered in a strong brown sauce. they are great and really filling.

We’re Always Interested In A Nice Pretzel

I was up at 6.30am. 

I make coffee. I sit on the couch with my laptop, you know, as you do early on a Sunday morning.

249 days until the end of the year, they say. Well, good to know.

Chernobyl Disaster Remembrance-Day (34 years) and Lesbian Visibility Day (Canada & United States) The two things together made me laugh. That’s one way to be visible, girls.

He’s something the gay boys can get into, National Pretzel Day (United States) We’re always interested in a nice pretzel. 😬 We love a boy with a big pretzel. Swing high, swing low, show me what you have Joe?

I make more coffee. Sunday morning. What to do? Sunday Morning is a time to think that encapsulates the feeling of nostalgia and longing for a times past. Memories linger, in the quiet, and the peace. That’s Sunday, that’s what makes Sunday’s special. That’s what makes Sunday, Sunday.

Coronavirus app: will Australians trust a government with a history of tech fails and data breaches?

The contact tracing app could work well to slow the spread of Covid-19, but will need to be accepted by a sceptical public

We ate chiko rolls and salad for lunch. We luxuriated over lunch, as there isn’t much else we can be doing. It’s screens for the afternoon, good thing it’s one of our favourite things.

I did aerobics with Daniel on Body Project on YouTube, moving the couches to the edges of the room. Yeah, sure, I imagine sucking his cock as I am following his instructions. Oh yeah, I’m sweating by the time I am finished and I have a shower.

Sam did his exercises with his ring thingie and then had a shower too.

3.30pm. We walked the dogs to the Carlton Gardens, once around the outside. There were plenty of people exercising in the park. Although sitting on a picnic rug with glasses of wine are quite a stretch to be claiming as exercise. Still there are always those people, now isn’t there. After, we walked straight through Fitzroy to Woolies.

It threatened to rain. It rained a bit. The sky was full of clouds. The cold wind blew.

4pm. Buddy, Brun and I are waiting out the back of Woollies while Sam’s shops for food. People come and people go from the supermarket. I guess it is one of the things we’re allowed to do, grocery shopping, lucky us. With the run on toilet paper, can you believe the stupidity of people sometimes, there seems to be an unusual number of people with bog roll in their hands leaving the supermarket.

We walk home up our street.

We ate fried rice for dinner.

New Big Brother for channel 7. I used to be an avid Big Brother fan, but I am just not interested this time around. Is it because it is on channel 7 and I never watch channel 7? Nyr? I think time has passed and my interests have changed. Anyway, we didn’t watch it.

It is reported that a total of 6,711 cases of COVID-19 have been reported in Australia, including 83 deaths and 5,539 have been reported as recovered from COVID-19.

Attending To About My Aspidistras

I woke up at 8am. Three days into the weekend, ha ha. First day of the weekend for everyone. It is relaxing, cushioned by Sunday off as a barrier before Monday, so you can really kick off your shoes and completely forget about the salt mines for a day. I’m lucky, I can do that for three days, but most people only get one day.

I make coffee. I open up the Guardian.

I look at Facebook. Ah, what are the punters posting today? So much complaining, generally. Everybody talking, and nobody listening. I try to write something light, or funny, if I can manage it, making a change from all the angst and opinions that are better than “yours.” 

Of course, I am probably as guilty as anyone else. Let’s some conservative Christian justify their bigotry and watch me tell them what I think. It’s the same thing, huh? So, can I talk? Maybe not.

Sam was up at 8.50am.

I make more coffee, for both of us.

Covid safe: Australian government launches coronavirus tracing app amid lingering privacy concerns. The Covidsafe tracking app is part of the government’s strategy to identify, trace and isolate as it looks at life beyond physical distance restrictions

Anzac Day anti-lockdown protests occurred in the rural town of Trafalgar, Victoria. Trafalgar? Isn’t that famous as a turn in the highway? Is it?

Get a grip you fools, lockdown hasn’t been enacted just to annoy you, there is a good reason for it. Do you secretly hope, like I do, that the people who protest and complain the most about lock down, you know the ones, who never stop yapping on about what an injustice it all is, making our ears bleed, get covid and get really sick and teeter on the brink… and then recover? Does anyone else hope like that?

We ate English muffins with salmon, egg and hollandaise sauce. My favourite breakfast. Sam cooks, where often I cook breakfast, admittedly I usually only cook breakfast for myself. Generally, Sam doesn’t eat breakfast.

I was going to write on Facebook, after Trump’s suggestion to treat the Corona virus by injecting disinfectant, 

5 toothless Americans from ButtFuckNowhere die after drinking disinfectant.

But decided not to in the end. He’s not our president, after all. I think the less attention we all bring to the poisonous bag of shit, the better. We seem to be getting too caught up on him as a nation. No, really, we are. Just ignore the cunt, that’s what we should all be doing. Oh, except for Americans, they can’t afford to ignore him as he is destroying their country.

I re-wrote CJ novel draft all morning, January 2010. Josh is not really into gay marriage, or monogamy. He likes to play the field while also having a boyfriend as well. And, of course, as we all know, there is nothing wrong with that, as long as you choose a boyfriend who believes in the same thing.

We ate schnitzels and Japanese Curry for lunch.

The sun shone.

I have two large pots of aspidistras at my front door and when I look after them that are luxurious and beautiful and bold. A huge splodge of green colour against my brick red walls. Nice. When I don’t look after them some of the leaves can die off, really, spoiling the look. 

I cleaned out the dead leaves from the aspidistra pots on the front veranda making them nice again. You know, those beautiful green fronds that have turned into something that looks like brown paper. I suspect I’m not watering them enough. Funny, how I can walk past them every day and then suddenly there are dead leaves hanging out of the pots.

I kept re-writing CJ novel draft. I’m inspired. I feel inspired. I feel a certain momentum that I hope I can maintain. Imagine getting something finished. Something longer than a short story? Just imagine.

I did aerobics watching Aerobics Oz Style on YouTube. Boy aerobics instructors in those small shorts should inspire all the gay boys to bend, stretch and jump. (and swallow. Sly look) I only watch the boy’s video, but I guess that is hardly surprising me being a big poof. Oh, you know, the bulge in their shorts inspires me to keep going.

Sam’s been doing exercise with a ring, and he’s been pushing me to do something too.

We walked the dogs to the Carlton Gardens. People are always saying, “They are beautiful dogs.” And that’s because they are beautiful dogs, of course. I think people really are enchanted by Buddy walking off his lead. And Buddy loves people, where Brun is a little more reserved. Buddy has no barriers to wandering up to people and saying hello. Hi. How are you all? He really is a social dog. Brun, not so much.

We ate tomato pasta for dinner.

Then Saturday night TV is a bore, it’s the worst night for Teev. Get out there and mix with the people, that’s what Saturday night Tv is telling us. Go forth and mingle in bars and clubs and place where people mingle.

 

Living In Ghost Town

Brun woke me at 6.15am. It was dark. We both headed downstairs. I switch on one of the lounge room lamps. Brun and I get on the couch together. Brun cuddles up to my left leg keeping me warm

Ah Friday, you have got to love them. Brun looks at me with his beautiful eyes. I kiss his head. We feel contained and safe in the dark morning. Well, I do, you’ll have to take my word for it regarding Brun.

Australia recorded just 13 new cases overnight, while the national death toll rose to 79. A 79-year-old woman, who was part of the cluster of cases in north-west Tasmania, died overnight; a passenger from the Artania cruise ship died in hospital in Western Australia; and a fifth resident at Sydney’s Newmarch House aged care facility died on Friday. Health authorities in Victoria, where six new cases were recorded overnight, are investigating a new cluster at a private inpatient psychiatric facility in Melbourne. So far 14 people, including five patients, have tested positive to Covid-19 in relation to this outbreak.

The federal government is pushing for schools to reopen, with Morrison stressing that there is no requirement under the national health advice for classrooms to ensure students remain 1.5m apart, with four square metres per child, at all times. But the states have all adopted different positions. Scotty from marketing, aka scummo, suck on that.

I re-wrote all of CJ novel draft 2009. Josh has a mum and a dad, still married. His mum is quiet a character always butting into her two son’s lives. Amanda likes being involved in her handsome son’s lives.

In a break from writing, I put on headphones and listened to some car YouTubers, which may make my tinnitus play up, so they say, more than it already is. That is the headphones and not the YouTube channels, you understand. I’m learning all about American cars watching American car resto programs on YouTube. I’ve always been a car nut, I’ve always had a great knowledge of cars, but not American cars, so I love it. Watching YouTube and learning something at the same time. Ha ha, that’s butter.

We ate leftover Japanese Curry for lunch.

I started re-writing CJ novel draft 2010. I am planning to re-write the whole thing, (it’s in years) all 10 years of it. I wrote this somewhere else but, I have already re-written 2020, 2019 and 2018. There isn’t much in 2017. And I have done 2009.

We walked the dogs to the Carlton Gardens. You’ve got to love lockdown, the streets are quiet, as are the parks. The Carlton Gardens are meditative walking the two boys in its quieter state. Lovely picturesque and calm.

We ate tomato and olive pasta for dinner.

The Rolling Stones releases Living in a Ghost Town. New music, yay. It's good too, I like it. It's cool. It is always good to have new music from The Stones.

It is a song they recorded last year, but decided it had particular relevance to today. They just had to re-write some of the lyrics before they put it out.

The streets during the pandemic do resemble a ghost town somewhat, don’t they.

I feel like a ghost

Livin' in a ghost town

Drifting around

in a deserted town

We can look for others

But they can't be found

Nobody searches for us

Nobody is around

Life is so beautiful

When we all got locked down

We feel like ghosts

like it is our own town, yeah.

Once this place was packed

And the air was full of yap

The sound of cars crashin'

Glasses were all clankin'

Voices were all yackin’'

People were blarin'

Nobody was carin'

If it was day or night

Woah, woah

Now we are ghosts

Livin' in a ghost town

Are we getting anywhere?

I can listen to The Rolling Stones all day, every day. They have never released a dud song. (I don’t know why blogger does this, the enlargement thing, but so often it seems so appropriate)

Well, that isn't strictly correct. True of Beggars Banquet and everything since.

But, I hate Lady Jane, in fact anything with harpsichord is dodgy. I don't like Their Satanic Majesties Request. And I find Between The Buttons problematic.

But, it is pretty much true of everything else. All great.

Gazing At The Pet Shop’s Son’s Beefy Arse

6am. I wake to the sound of Brun making vomiting sounds. It was dark. I woke instantly. Then Brun is up on the side of the bed tapping me with his paw.

6.10am. I am taking Brun downstairs for a wee. He races up the back of the yard. I don’t go with him. I wait at the back door for him. He soon comes trotting back.

I make coffee. I make Vegemite toast. I read the news. First day of my weekend, got to love that. Time to get comfortable. Ha ha.

Global confirmed Covid-19 cases pass 2.5m.

Earth Day: Greta Thunberg calls for 'new path' after pandemic. The climate activist says Covid-19 outbreak shows change can happen when we listen to scientists.

Richard Pusey, 41, was pulled over yesterday 5pm for allegedly speeding at 140km/h and police say he tested positive to ice and cannabis on the Eastern Freeway on Wednesday.

He was urinating on the side of the freeway when a truck driver smashed into four police officers impounding his Porsche 911.

Pusey allegedly told one of four police officers "amazing, absolutely amazing" as she died groaning for help. 

He may have taken photos

I started re-writing CJ novel draft right from the beginning, 2009. I did that all day. Back to 2009 when Josh meets his first boyfriend. 

I guess I should write some sort of beginning. Oh, I don’t know? I often think you can write the beginning as one of the last things you write.

We ate salmon triangles for lunch. Homemade, Sam makes them, manning the rice cooker. Not bought, never bought.

I went to the pet shop in the early afternoon to get the dog’s fresh red meat, diced beef. Hight Street Thornbury. It’s shopping, you are allowed to shop.

We had to social distance on the footpath out the front, being called in one by one once it was each person’s turn.

The owner’s son, or who I assume is their son, talking about beef, served me with his handsome face, his killer smile and his muscles. I let him carry the meat to the car for me, well, he offered, just so I could follow him, if you get my drifteroo.

I went back to re-writing CJ novel draft. It’s about the football team he used to play for all the guys who played on the team.

We minced up the dog’s meat. We put the diced beef through the mincer, suction cupped to the kitchen bench. The problem being, that the mincer is a hand mincer. I ‘man’ the handle while Sam feeds the pieces in and also manages the bags. But my arm soon gets tired. I push through because, I’m the guy on the handle, it is my job. I don’t want to give in and make Sam do it. 

5pm. We took the dogs to the Carlton Gardens. It was overcast and grey. It looked like it could possibly rain all the time we were out in it. We walk around the perimeter path; across the plaza, down past the tennis courts to the first drinking bowl. Then across to Carlton Street, up the hill to the caretaker’s house, along Rathdowne Street, and back around to Gertrude Street.

We ate schnitzels and salad for dinner.

We ate a block of chocolate. Lovely. It must have been on special. Sam only buys chocolate if it is on special, which is good. Smart. Too much chocolate we don’t need. And this way it is, kind of, regulated, if you know what I mean.

Nana Sam went to bed at 10pm, his preferred bed time. He likes early to bed. I like late to bed. Somehow, we manage something in the middle of that, most nights, but not tonight.

I stayed up until midnight re-writing CJ novel draft. Josh believes in open relationships and the ‘normal’ gay men have developed for themselves being excluded from traditional relationships.

 

Goodbye Jonathan

I was up at 6am.

I make coffee. I read The Guardian. The need for physical distancing means that space in our towns and cities must be shared in new ways.

There is hope that the huge reduction in motor traffic caused by the virus will not be completely reversed. Already, cities including Milan and New York have announced ambitious plans to reconfigure roads in such a way as to make more space for cyclists and pedestrians.

Improving air quality is one motive, particularly in cities, not least because pollution is thought to be a contributor to Covid-19 deaths. Encouraging people to walk and cycle is another. Fitter, less overweight people are less at risk from all sorts of diseases, particularly respiratory ones.

The chance to move around more freely again is something to be looked forward to, especially for those who are separated from loved ones.

I signed into work at 7.30am.

I said good bye to my favourite gay senior associate, Jonathan Bibe. Cute name. Cute face. If he was American, he would have been Chip, or Biff, with his cute, open, boyish face, always ready to break into a smile. It’s a shame he was leaving. I felt sad when I saw he was going. I mean, not that I have a lot to do with him, but we’d been on the same gay group and he was always nice. I think I spoke to him on the phone, more than anything else, as I did at the end. I remember his nice voice.

“I just called to say goodbye,” said Jonathan.

“Oh. Yes,” I tried not to sound too surprised. “Today is the day, is it?”

“Nah, it’s Friday, but I’m going to be really busy for the next few days and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

“Sorry to see you go,” I said.

“Sorry, I can’t say good bye in person.”

“It’s the times we live in.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” he said. “Anyway, nice working with you, such as we did.”

“I’ll miss seeing you at the lift in the mornings.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Always nice to see a smiling face.”

“And you,” I said.

“Anyway, perhaps another time, in another place, at another law firm.”

“Hopefully,” I said.

Then he hung up.

Then I didn’t have much to do for the rest of the day.

I read the Australian Human Rights Commission

When the COVID-19 pandemic spread to this big island of ours, our leaders made a momentous decision: they decided to save as many human lives as possible.

This was the right decision. It shows we as a country care about human life above all else. But now we face an even harder question: how to save lives while preventing economic collapse and staying true to our democratic values?

In order to save lives, we are making other painful sacrifices. People are losing their jobs. There is real suffering behind closed doors for many elderly people, people with disability, victims of domestic violence and people experiencing homelessness. 

Even those of us who are relatively lucky are adjusting to new restrictions on our freedoms. We’re working from home, we’re home schooling our kids, and living in isolation from the people and activities we love.

Australia now has strict rules about when we can and can’t go out, what we can do and how many people we can see in person. There’s strong community support for these restrictions. We can see how those rules keep us safe from COVID-19.

We are all in this together and most people have willingly made these sacrifices for the greater good of our whole community.

But there’s also a hidden risk. Our willingness to accept sacrifice can leave us vulnerable to accepting greater restrictions on our freedom than are really needed to keep us safe.

I rewrote my lockdown novel draft, for the rest of the day, pretty much.

Josh has a couple of boyfriends, but he has a straight mate Ben all through his relationships. In between Josh’s relationships, Josh and Ben get out of it on occasions and fool about sexually.

4.30pm. We took Buddy and Brun to the Carlton Gardens. It was quite a nice day. The sun was shining. Around the perimeter pathway and then home. You know, I don’t hate the lock down, in fact, with so few people in which to come in contact… well… um… what’s not to like.

We ate Japanese curry for dinner.

Is that adorable, or is that adorable? Always together, so often mirroring each other