Kirk In His Underpants

How do you get to do a scene like this with Christopher Pine?

Smoking

My smoking is going well, thanks for asking. I'm back to my old routine in the mornings, put the coffee on, head outside for a smoke. Still not smoking inside, though, so I guess that's a good thing. It's a bit cold on the bare feet these mornings, brrr! I'm so easily back there, as if I never gave up at all. So easy. SO easy! Grrr! I think when I think about it. Bloody hell!

Bugger! Now I have to give up all over again. I dread that first week, it's what is stopping me right at the moment. Or is that an excuse? Hmm, not sure.

 

I stick my tongue up that

Josh's Thoughts on Rugby, all the Way From Germany. He's a Scamp.

I'm taking up rugby. It's in the news – gangbang culture (whatever that is Mertle) is part and parcel of being in the team (geddit?!?!!??), and now, after all those years living in NSW and rugby land, after all those years railing against the All Blacks or the Westside Sharks or whatever, after all that concentrated hatred off all things rugby, union or league, of broken noses, backs, spines, necks... after all that NOW they tell me! It's team spirit (or in Christchurch tiim spurut). I mean, as if I would find stocky married, tween to middle aged men rutting away sequentially and simultaneously with eachother/various objects/room service as alluring. Rubadubdub etc where's the soap etc? I'm young, I'm skinny, after all... a cupla advocadoes in a bikini string, a wig, and "I'm up for it and 17" and Bob's your nuncle...

Cold Feet

It's cold this morning. There is a chill in the air. My cat is licking my feet as I type. I love it when she does that, so cute. Now, I just need ten more cats to join her.

What's the collective noun for cats? I want it to be a slobber. Cats? I guess not. More likely a disdain.

Maybe, I should give Kane a call. He's got a big tongue. Blush. Although, as good as he is, I don't think he'd come at getting under the desk to lick my feet warm, as I sit here and write. Good boyfriends - or equivalents, there of - are hard to come by, huh?

Surely, he could take time off from his post grad studies to keep me toasty. I should give him a call, just to hear his reaction. He, he, he. I can see him now, face down, bum up... oh, um, maybe that wouldn't lead to feet licking.

Maybe, I should just get some socks.

 

Mr Cutey Pants Himself, Just to Brighten Up Everyone's Monday Morning

Mr Handsome Himself. What A Gorgeous Smile He has

 Daniel MacPherson

Happy faces, put them through their paces

Around and Around and Around...

I used to want to change the world. Now, I just want to point and laugh, with good friends, as I watch the world caught up in its own arrogance.

Growth at all costs. Increased wealth for all. Well, for everyone with white skin, certainly.

I used to want to change the world. Now, I just want to point and laugh, at the women who drive their 1.5 children to school in huge 4WDs, all the time espousing green credentials.

Your children will inherit the earth you leave behind, biatches.

I used to want to change the world. Now, I just want to point and giggle, with some good mates, as the world collectively cringes whenever sex is mentioned, all the time using it to sell everything under the sun.

Of course, everyone is married and monogamous with children.

I used to want to change the world, but now I just want to point and laugh at western society eating itself to death.

While the other half of the world starves.

I used to want to change the world, but now I just want to laugh at all the politician's lies.

Core truths and lies. Funny that used car salesmen are now more credible.

I used to want to change the world, but now I realise that lawyers have done that irrevocably for us.

There is always someone to sue and always a lawyer with a cheque to collect because of it... and we all pay.

I used to want to change the world, but now I just want to hide my eyes and cringe at the world (read America) selling celebrities as artists.

Some of the biggest grossing movies are still the worst artistically. All the critics say Angels and Demons is rubbish.

I used to want to change the world, but now I just want to watch it wonder why so many of its people are medicating themselves into oblivion.

There is a war on drugs, unless, of course, there is a pharmaceutical company supplying them.

I used to want to change the world, but now I realise it is pointless and, quite possibly, too late.

Carbon emissions are still increasing exponentially, despite all of the yabber.

I used to want to change the world, but now I just want to create my own haven to escape to.

Somewhere in the country with a gate, I think.

The Original and The New - The Case Of Two Jennifer's

Just listen to the Queens coming in their pants

No Judgement, Jennifer Holiday is amazing (and Jennifer Holiday isn't far behind amazing)

Big breathe, final note

Listen to the queens in the front near the camera, when Jennifer Holiday is wailing, they are hysterical. It sounds like they are having a religious experience.

I watched Blazing Saddles for the very first time. Sat up late. Open fire. Ate Vietnamese. Mark and Luke came down. Shane was home. David is in Turkey. We smoked a spliff. He sms'd to say he was rotten on booze, drinking coffee in a bazaar.

They serve alcohol with every thing, says David.

I had to go to bed and find me some black boy Internet porn. Big smile. That lead cowboy sure is mighty fine.

Yes Means Yes

On any given night in the clubs and pubs around Australia, in bedrooms, motel rooms, backs of cars and the like, acts like those portrayed in the Matthew Johns, Rugby League, story occur. That's what happens. That's what sexually active people do in this age. Dare I say this age, because I don't think it is necessarily a new thing. People experiment.

Why is it that a person who has celebrity status is viewed any differently to other men, and women, who are involved in activities of this kind?

From all accounts the woman gave consent. There has been no evidence to the contrary, otherwise criminal charges would definitely have been laid. And whether Pru Goward or Maxine McKew, or whoever – or whichever politician wanting to make political millage out of the incident seven years later – like, or don’t like, what happened on that night, it still doesn't make it wrong.

Consent is consent. It is as simple as that. Nothing illegal happened and we must be careful not to make personal moral judgements pseudo-law. Sexual assault isn't a matter of a third person’s personal taste, it is governed by law and no charges have been laid, or will be laid.

The girl in question now says she feels distressed and that the decision she made on that night turned out to be a bad decision for her, but it was her decision. We learn from our bad decisions, that’s how we grow. I know it’s now an old fashioned notion, but people must take personal responsibility for their own actions.

I might just add, how curious it is that the only person the female can now remember is that of a person with a high public profile and, presumably, a good income.

What now becomes of Matthew Johns, now that he has been tried by media? It is typical of current affairs programs to report news based on morals rather than law, in a self-serving, sensationalist way. Seven years later, to boot. Why not in 2002? Perhaps, Four Corners was having a slow news week.

2023 - Oh... what the hell do I know.

Autumn

Autumn, what a lovely season. The leaves have turned yellow and green and are gently drifting down to the ground forming a carpet all around.

Time to pull out big jumpers and warm socks, light the fire, cook soup; time to rest, time to nest. Keep me warm my big, handsome love, until the warm golden sun has risen high in blue skies again.

6 Beers

What's with the 6 beers advertising campaign? Isn't that the old joke?

What's the difference between a gay man and a straight man?

6 Beers.

So, what's that new add on teev trying to tell us? No idea. Something about meeting heros.

It got me thinking about my past encounters with pissed straight boys, though, usually after their girlfriends had turned them down for the night. They'd turn up at a bar with "that" look in their eyes - a cross between fear and ejaculation. But, mostly, I remember how keen they were. And that old cliche that used to, more often than not, fall out of their mouths.

"My girlfriend doesn't understh'tand."

"That's no good, mate, lets see what I can do to help."

Oh, it's been a while.

Here's to six beers! (whatever the hell they are on about?)

 

4WD Coupe

I was following one of these monsters, the other day. The latest in urban guerrilla warfare. They are enormous, like a chick's tank. They are everything that is wrong with the world today, embodied in one car, I thought, as I strained to see the rest of the world around this mother.

Man Versus the Environment

It's really that simple

Sing

Sing dilly dolly willy wally doodle dandy all the day.

 

Fav Aussie Landscape

Albert Namatjira

Inhale

I started smoking again. Big deal. Who cares. (shakes head) You know, it's something I'm good at. Ha, ha. Big smile.

Well? After, smoking pot with Luke last weekend, last Sunday night, suddenly I felt better, normal, after being semi-depressed for six weeks. (Raised hands, as if in a question. Raised eyebrows. Biting down on my bottom lip... slippery slope, he thinks) That's how long I haven't smoked. It's been miserable. I've been feeling lousy and constantly blue.

And on Tuesday I felt like buying some more, you know, why not? Just to feel normal for a day or so longer. Just for a break, it's been hell.

However, I still have to stop, again. Any day now. Certainly. It's just a temporary thing. A phase. A port in the sea of feeling lousy.

I thought about smoking more m, a quarter for the following week, but it was a bad idea, if that's the stuff that sends me into depression when I withdraw. So, rightly or wrongly, I deliberately had a cigarette, chose to, just to kill the craving. And I feel better, normal again. To stop thinking, if you like.

Except, of course, now I have to quit cigarettes, again. (hands in the air, big eyes, grimace) Crap! Angst for the first week, which changes into a slow burn on lousy. They say it takes at least three months. So, I'm going to take the pills the doc prescribed for me when I told him I was quitting, initially.

I had dinner with my ex-b/f, Lauri, Wednesday night, he swore by them.

"Take the goddamn pills," he said. Big grin. "And if you still feel down, take antidepressants." He smiled and raised his cute Italian eyebrows. "It's only for three months, or something. Temporary. It's like taking flu caps with a cold. They just make you feel better."

He's quit. I've quit. We were both sucking down Styvies on the footpath on Victoria Street, in between courses.

Mark and Luke came down tonight to see Star Trek. I hadn't told them I'd already seen it with Jill. And we, um... er, shall we say, broke bread (raised eye brows) before they left.

Back to square one, hey?

Then Shane left his "gear" downstairs.

I can't be trusted, he knows that.

It's a conspiracy, I tell you.