Must Leave the House

I think of Sam, as i get out of the shower, there is my clean towel. He thinks my hygiene standards are questionable. It is truly nice to have a shower after four days. Lots comes off when I shave, like I'm covered in black 100s & 1000s.

Besides, if I don't pay my mobile phone soon, it will be cut off. And this month I will pay my credit card on time and if I do it today, my mobile phone too.

Besides, I decided I should just buy that new season of Weeds to watch, why not? I must check what season I'm up to. I'd hate to buy the number wrong. It would be one of the great nyer moments... right up there with the day I realised I didn't like the taste of cum... or when I told one of my (Ed note - I must mean prospective) boyfriends all of my thoughts on relationships and he answered, "Okay, fine, but I don't want to have a relationship with that person."

I think Celia is one of my favourite all time television characters, right up there with Karen Walker and Monty Burns.

My Prince

Apparently, I have ignored emails and not answered messages.

"No Sir! I deny it. I haven't ignored anything you have said, be it written of verbal, on purpose and if I have it was a genuine error... on my part... my Prince."

Do you like that. Prince? Prince Sam.

"Are you coming to lunch?"

Quietly, to myself, "but, it is raining." 

I've Got Two and a Half Hours, I'm Sure I Can Make That

I've been summonsed to lunch. Apparently, I've been having far too good a time home on my own. Apparently, holding up inside one's house with my bag of p, doing no exercise is not good for my health.

When SaM found out that I haven't left the house all week - of course, I deny this, I have been to the supermarket, at least twice and the lollie shop - immediate action was required and a location and time for lunch was picked forth with.

Midday, be there, or be square.

I've got two and a half hours, I'm sure I can make that. 

Bugger it! I Have to Leave the House

I’m awake at 9am.

Surprisingly, I'm feeling ready for action. You see, after a period of inaction, you do come out of it naturally. I called (the old manager) and make mum's move Friday. I called (the new manager) to confirm it. I called my sister.

I wonder briefly about getting a job. Apparently, our old HR manager has offered Beck the manager’s job at the law firm the HR manager went to... she has one part timer employee below her.

Coincidentally, I had applied for the part time position just when I'd been given the sack from the black law firm and my application was unsuccessful. I wonder if it has been filled?

I'd forgotten that our old HR manager was there. Idiot!

Would I take the part time job if Beck offered it to me? Sure I would. I hope I haven’t already kissed that one good bye with my rather, now that I think about it, half-hearted application a few months ago. I should have updated my resume properly, but I really wasn't convinced about a part time position when I did. Maybe, I was just asking too much money?

Could it be that easy?

Why didn't they offer me a job? Why doesn't anyone ever offer me a job. I suddenly feel deflated... wind left sails. Oh fuck them!

Bugger it! I’m out of cigarettes, I have to leave the house.

I buy a chomp.

I'm A Funny Boy

Are we funny, if we think we are?

Do we have to think we are funny, to be funny?

Or is it just something we have, naturally?

If I laugh, does the world laugh too?

Rob Likes To Listen To Music In His Underpants. His Favourite Group Just Released New Music, So Rob Bought A New Blue Pair Just For The Occasion

I Don't Have to do Anything

Is it Monday? Is it Monday? Yes, it is. It is Monday. It is Monday. All day. I know I know that must mean something, but, quite frankly, it doesn't.

The beginning of the week, the first day there of. The beginning of another fabulous week. Yay, for the week. Yay, for me.

Lost weekend. Ha, ha! Sam was cross... not, seriously. How many times do you think he said,

"You have an issue."

We had some nice Vietnamese/Western fusion food in Sydney Road for lunch Saturday.

Ivan Likes The Feel Of His Balls, He Always Seems To Have His Hand Around Them, Even When He Was A Little Boy

Day Off

My sister was supposed to pick me up at 11am and take me with her to visit our mother? So, Sam went home in the morning.

And I waited and I waited.

Oh well. I don't need to tell you how heart broken I was that I didn't have to do that. Sad, really, when I think about it, that I would ever think that about my gorgeous mother. The sad reality of Alzheimer's. Awful, really. My beautiful mother.

Well, I was sure they were the arrangements we made. I'm positive that's what my sister suggested.

Oh well, day to myself.

They day drifted into night, I pissed around on my computer with photos and blogs, naturally. Shane was quiet all day, suspected of a big night Friday, but he is making no admissions.

Shane said, "Aren't you worried something has happened to your sister?"

Funny, how we go for the dramatic and the sensational and the fear, first. "No, I'm not worried."

Open fire all day, don't you worry about that, me luv.

Don't Care What Anyone Thinks

Don't care what anyone thinks, chart your own course despite them all.

Squeal Like a Pig

Down on his knees, leaning down on his elbows, wearing only his white CK jocks, pulled down his thighs some way.

Vertigo

If I stood on the roof of the 9 story building ready to jump to end my life and I felt scared due to my vertigo, shouldn't I take it as a sign to rethink the whole plan?

 

Kiren Is Pretty Laid Back, He'll Go With Anyone Who Takes An Interest In Him

Bad Christian (You Know, I Love That My Name Is Christian, Just For That Very Reason)

 I called and made an appointment at the high security aged care facility, for Lottie. Finally, I had done it.  I’d had the phone number for a week, but, I’d been sick and it had been scratching at my mind the whole time. Lottie, Lottie, Lottie! The old place wants to turf her out, apparently too obstreperous. There I’d done it.

Immediately, my thoughts were on other things. A reward. Medicinal.

It was about 19.00, when I started to give it serious thought. Actually, it started earlier. Maybe, 17.00. When I was stacking the wood, what time was that? I'd just got back from the supermarket, firelighters and cigarettes. Oh yes, did I mention that? All through my cold last week, like a chimney, I'm incorrigible. My car didn't want to start with the first or second turn of the key, after I came out of the supermarket. But the wood man said in an hour, that's why I drove, you bastard thing, I had to be quick. “You've just got to go!” and it just started. I don't even believe you can “will” something to happen. An inanimate object? Please? The parking inspector was there, standing in the car park next to the one I chose. I was parked before I noticed him, as it so turned out. So, I took notice of the time, It was 14.30.

It was cold and I wanted a fire, now! The fire wood was on its way. I was out cutting wood for the fire. “Bring! bring!” Was that my door bell? I nearly didn't hear it, I was at the back of the yard. Can you imagine, after my sob story? That really is an hour, yay for ABC Wood! Yay for me. Cute, Italian delivery boy, with a stutter, which only made him more adorable. Forty, forty five. Lean, tight. I would have blown him. He backed his ute in the back, badly, on an angle. Oh, let me do it. All looks and brawn, like that is a bad thing, you say. Tilt and it was off, crooked. And he was gone. There, I’d done it.

Well, it was after that, when I sat on the back porch and had a ciggie. 

Everybody thinks I am just going to make my mind up and go back to work. But, today, I decided that not working was a valid choice too. So, it was go back to work, or not work and enjoy it and feel guilt free. They were the choices, that's what it came down to, that’s what I decided. After 10 weeks off. And there, on the wicker chair on the back veranda, I decided that I am not going to work this week, and I am going to enjoy. Reassessment, next Monday. There, I’d done it.

So, I decided that I was going to act like I'm unemployed and I decided to call Guido and get some pot. It took me a while, perhaps 2 hours, I agonised over the decision, did I want to be that person? Didn’t I want to smoke less, not more. So, I started to really think seriously about it at 17.00 and I called 19.00 and I was there by 19.30. Nice joint hello, lovely. 

"So, what have you been up to?

Light and easy. Guido is on light and easy? Guido? I got the full low down on Light and Easy, telling me it's virtues. "I don't care as long as I'm not hungry, if I'm not hungry. Food isn’t that important to me. It’s cheap, cheaper than the supermarket.”

It was a surreal moment.

"I'm beginning to feel it for the first time, mate. Gotta do something. If I still want people to think I'm half decent, I've gotta be half decent.” He was scratching his neck. “There is no way around it. There are no free lunches, as I'm always telling you. If I want people to continue to think I'm fit, I have to be fit." He shook his head. "You have to give 100%, all the time. 7 days a week, if you want to make it in any thing you do. Otherwise you are fucked and one of the poor people. Fuck that. Fucken do it when you can, so you can still enjoy it when you can’t."

The joint was kicking in, he lost me at feel it for the first time.

We watched Winners and Losers and some dating show, with an annoying straight boy who had to find the chickee babe of his dreams. He had beautiful eyes, though, and we decided that the best thing he could do was to die and donate his eyes to medicine. 

I decided not to tell Shane or Sam. Not that I’m going to lie. I’m just not going to tell. Simple as that. It’s just for me. It’s for writing, I know, I write better when I’m stoned. Hemingway had booze. What is the difference? It’s my unemployment, anyway, I’ll masturbate if I want to. I don’t usually see Sam until Friday, even if I am seeing him tomorrow night, as it turns out this week. I can be stoned for days on end, writing. Hoo-oo! I don’t have to smoke while he is around, it’s probably a good filter for me, a break, a breather, anyway. 

But... Sam messaged me.

What are you doing? Why so quiet?

I’m watching TV.

Why aren’t you picking up the home phone?

Dam! ...I’m watching TV with Guido.

Too engrossed to pick up the phone?

I’m at Guido’s.

Pot head.

Even so, he doesn’t need to know I bought any. Offer no information. Surely, that’s not lying.

I buzzed home. I only had the one joint at Guido’s, as soon as I’d got there, I’d been there three and a half hours. I was making good time home, despite getting every red light. I did my tiny side street cut through, to get around the street blockages. I turned up the first side street, to see a cop car parked across the corner blocking the way I wanted to go. There was a man being made to stand at attention, surrounded by six coppers. I could see their epaulets and the whites of their eyes. There were two more cop cars behind the first one. I stopped and went to reverse, but at the last minute I just wanted to get out of there, so I turned right instead of left and headed along the other section of the t-intersection opposite to the way I’d usually go, only to find the big side street I wanted was still blocked off at that point. So, I had to back up again, bloody hell, beam me out of here! I was stoned, after all, but only a little bit, but it would still show up in any test. And I had pot on me, of course. Guido is quite generous, he’s always had a soft spot for me. He always gives me a big bag. At the last minute before I stopped altogether, I saw a lane way diagonally across from where I was and shot forward and turned up there, just to get clear and away from all that blue and white. It turned out to be a dead end and I had to reverse again. And while all of those mistakes, were caused by the angle of the cop car, blocking my way in the very first place, the coppers should know that, I was still driving around somewhat like, well let’s say, in a fashion that would draw attention to myself.

Relax. Drive back to the main road, turn right, just relax. I took the long way around after that, determined not to be noticed again. Could you imagine? Blah. Who needs that? And it’s all 40ks, around my place; it is the, shall we say, relaxed drivers optimum. Cruise home on slow, smiling all the way. The bitumen mesmerizingly clean, due to the recent down pour of rain.

I was home sitting on my back veranda at 23.00, decisions made having my first J.

I’m going to get those tiny filters and I’m going to roll joints without tobacco, by hand. It is a skill I realise I have, just recently, after how many years, it’s ridiculous. The secret is the roach, or the filter, it gives you the cylinder shape so easily. Through necessity, at Sam’s place, late one night, on the way back from Bolago, no machine. He was gobsmacked. 

I’m going to have two in the morning and two in the afternoon (and a bedtime j, let’s be realistic) But that’s all. Nothing more. I can’t turn into "trough man", surely, I can do it?

No tobacco, so you see it is practically smoking aversion therapy. It’s a distraction and I don’t feel the nicotine withdrawal. When this runs out, I will be over my nicotine withdrawal with even noticing it.

They were the promises I made.

Guido said no food after dinner, nothing until breakfast. Those words just made me think of plum jam toast, late.

Do You Think It's Disturbing That I Find This Guy Kind Of Hot?

The Resident Nut Job

It was cool and overcast when I gazed out the window at the day. I thought it had warmed up, you know, turned the corner into spring last week when the last of the fire wood was burned away. But no, winter made a come back and here we are with cold, wet, overcast days once more.

I was cold and there were two pieces of wood left to burn. Two, yes count them. One, two.

I called up the new, cute fire wood guy and he said Saturday.

"Really?" I asked. "Couldn't you do it before then?" We've been buying wood from the servo the last couple of days, and it doesn't take long for those purchases to add up to half of what we'd pay for a huge delivery.

"Oh, well, maybe Friday, see how I go. But we are really busy."

"Oh, Friday? I'm home every day and I could fit in with any delivery time you wanted. I've just run out, I didn't realise it had got so low." Mark and Luke will be down Wednesday, we're off to the symphony and I have to have wood for them, as they always complain how cold my house is. Truthfully, they have their own forest and they over heat like crazy.

"Oh... um... actually, in that case, how about today, in an hour."

"That would be fantastic."

The resident nut job was calling out about “too much pollution” in the world, again, as I stacked the first logs of the new supply of fire wood. Wow, that was quick, I thought, as I gazed across the next doors yard to see if I could see a face staring through a crack in the pailings. I don’t know where he is, but I suspect he is four doors down. I wonder if I should be worried about him? Crazy eyes and dribbling, is what I picture, possibly a tick. I wondered if those horrible murders that you read about in the newspapers start out like this. A shiver ran down my spine.

I imagined all sorts of things, from him appearing angrily at my garden gate confronting me in a deranged way, to setting the wood stack alight in the middle of the night as retribution.

I imagined all the things I could say to him if he appeared at the gate, all of which would work on a sane and rational man, none of which would probably work on a mental case.

I stacked the wood very quietly after that.

I was telling Anthony about him yesterday as we lit a fire with the last of the old wood. Anthony is my long lost mate reappeared who has had two periods of insanity in his life. He said not to engage him in conversation… and I guess Anthony would know.

Now I’m going to light a fire. I wonder if that will set him off in a frenzy of counting and twitches?

It Had Been A Long Night And The Sun Was Coming Up Again And Kyle Was Questioning His Life's Choices