Saturday.

I’m up early, pushing myself clear of the two bulldogs now taking up the middle section of the bed between them. I encourage Brun onto the bed in a weak moment how many months ago when I was sick and he and Otto were fighting. Now the two of them have made up we can’t get them off the bed. Stupid me.

I make coffee. I breath in the new day. I upload my new Spanish film.

Loli calls to ask me about Mark. Luke told her when he called her recently to tell her about Mark, who is back in hospital with heart issues.

She’s been in hospital herself having her gallbladder removed after experiencing incredible pain recently. She tells me she is pre-diabetic. I tell her I was diabetic too. That and the heart thing happened pretty much together for me.

She tells me her brother had a heart attack, all his arteries were found to be blocked. He had a difficult recovery, she even had to nurse him. So, I guess I should feel kind of lucky, I had a minor coronary event, as the cardiac specialist put it, and I didn't even take one sick day off work. And no blocked arteries, oh, other than the one that caused the trouble, which can't even be seen by the human eye.

Loli and I promise to keep in touch more in the future. Sam and I must head down the beach to see her new house, which we haven't seen yet.

Today, we're walking to Carlton for lunch. We're taking the bulldogs, of course. Now we just need the sun to come out and for the grey sky to turn blue.

And as I wrote that, the sun did come out.

I must tell David. He'll say it is my power, or the divine intervention of the planets, or some such bullshit. And I'll tell him it is a coincidence, like the ones that happen every day.

The same applies to thinking of Loli yesterday and having her call me this morning.

David would say it was all apart of some great cosmic process, or some crap like that.

Off On A Small Adventure

9:16am. I am sick of myself lost on the couch falling into the YouTube rabbit hole like I have been doing lately.

It is my first day off in how many weeks?

I leave home in search things to see, get some scripts filled, have a sniff around some shops, but mostly just to venture forth and not spend the day on the couch.

Sam’s working anyway, so I should be able to entertain myself for a few hours.

I buy a passion muffin at the bakery, but it isn’t very nice so take it home to Sam. and give it to him then I keep walking.

I cut through the commission flats grounds, and I think how ill-conceived the Labor Party’s policy of demolishing the towers and giving the land over to private developers to build tiny cities.

It is windy as I walked down Brunswick Street, very windy. 

I’m listening to Tina Turner, Rough.

I pop into Chemistwarehouse.

Brunswick Street is pretty quiet this time of day, the emptiness feels reassuring that the world isn’t such an overpopulated place. Maybe that is true, or not true, but there is something about early morning being so calm it doesn’t really matter.

I walk the length of the Fitzroy part of Brunswick Street and most of the shops are still closed, not ready up and going for the day.

9.50am. I’m on the corner of Brunswick Street and Alexandra Avenue. The sun is just starting to shine. I take a seat on the public seat on the footpath and contemplate the day. I don’t know where I am going, and you know, that feels good.

There is a strong smell of car fumes here on the corner. It is a busy corner. Alexandra Parade never gives up its traffic.

There is suddenly a whole group of 30something professional types with children and prams and noise and commotion, sucking up all the oxygen in the place seemingly settling into the tables outside Blonde. (I wonder if it is the same Blonde that used to be in Smith Street?) Oh go away, I think. And eventually they do, as they weren’t settling in, they were just getting all of their shit together to go.

I’m sitting looking at Patel’s Pharmacy which says in big, bold print that it opens at 10am. I look at my watch.

10:06am. The tram comes and I get on the tram and go to North Fitzroy. My first house was just here and this used to me my local shopping centre. I haven’t been back here in a while. It doesn’t look as though it has changed very much. How long ago did I live here? Rachel and I used to buy 12 iced chocolate donuts from the supermarket and eat them with tea in my back yard. I don’t fancy chocolate donuts any longer.

10:15am. I’m sitting at the tram stop in North Fitzroy waiting for a tram to venture further a field

10.31am. I get off at Holden Street, the next group of shops along the tram line. It is where my doctor is. There isn’t much here. I start to walk, but I only get to the next tram stop when a tram comes.

I’m heading up to St George’s Road, I don’t really know where I’m going now. It is nice not to know where you are going sometimes, we don’t do that nearly often enough.

St Georges Road flashes by. I think I will get off at Bell Street. Bell Street is so often the outer limit of ‘my inner suburban zone.’

10.41am. I didn’t get off the tram and now I’m heading off down Miller Street away from where I thought I wanted to be, but of course the tram doesn’t go up St Georges Road to Bell Street, you have to go down Miller Street, if you want to keep going on the number 11 tram.

This is where my friend Loli used to own a house. I wonder if she still owns it, as she didn’t sell it when she first moved to, um, where did she move to after this? Point Cook as an interim house on their way to live in Torquay.

10.49am. The tram signs all say Gilbert Road. This is Preston, even if I don’t ever think of it as Preston.

I reckon I could keep going with the number 11 tram to Bell Street, then catch the bus down Bell Street to High Street, then catch the 86 tram home.

There are a couple of very tasty looking bakeries, but I’ve turned down all the opportunities of buying cakes, but I am thirsty now. I’ll find a supermarket.

There is a couple of old women chatting behind me at the tram stop yapping on. I don't look around. Grrrr! I think, Oh go away. Weirdly, as I get on the tram the old women get on behind me and when they pass me to find a seat, they turn out to be two 15 year old boys which was kind of a mind fuck. Shake of the head.

10.54am. I’m at Bell Street. It’s kind of nice going about the city by tram, on a little expedition. There is something really freeing about travelling by public transport. You can get off it at any point and just forget about it, until you want to move on again, then it appears again just like that.

The two lads follow me to the bus stop, but keep walking.

The traffic on Bell Street is noisy and plentiful. It is the main traffic artery in the north, I guess. The cars thunder past.

11.02am. I catch the 514 bus. It is only a few stops to Plenty Road.

11.07am. I get off at Plenty Road. Now where is my lovely 86 tram?

I walk down Plenty Road. I am still thinking about a drink. I come to Woolies. I go into to get a peach iced tea and come out with a bag of mandarins. I eat them as I walk along. Every time I see a bin in the distance I peel another mandarin.

There has been a huge amount of apartment development in this part of, what I would call, Preston. They have wiped out all of the old brick factories and built tall concrete stumps in their place. I think it is a mistake, to wipe away your past, but I guess, that is progress.

I start walking down High Street.

11.30am. I’m in Vinnies (885 High St, Thornbury VIC 3071) looking at the cds, and just before I am finished one of those guys with apparent mental health issues comes in and starts banging through the CDs in the CD rack. He pulls the CDs out of their racks and makes piles of them on top of the DVDs in the DVD rack, for no apparent reason. I’ve seen this before in opshops where guys do this like a preoccupation, resorting and rearranging things. And then he suddenly leaves, leaving the piles of CDs all over the place. 

They had Funny Girl and A Star Is Born, but they wanted $3 each for them, for CDs I will probably never play, so I left them there.

12pm. I’m in Lions Thrift Shop (735 High St, Thornbury VIC 3071) I get a Spanish language film, A Gun In Each Hand. It sounds interesting, six intertwined tales of love. And the Spanish are beautiful.

12.12pm. I’m halfway down High Street @505 and I have sore feet. The walk has been nice, though, the gentle sun on my face, fresh air, colour and movement.

I’m on my third Tina Turner album, acid Queen.

12.26pm. I am in the Sacred Heart OpSop on the corner of Separation Street and High Street. (387 High St, Northcote VIC 3070) It is the really big opshop, one in which I never have any luck. I buy a Kransky Sisters CD. I love the Kransky sisters, they are very clever.

I head across Separation Street and go to Chemistwarehouse. 

12.31pm. I’m in the Salvos. The CDs and DVDs are up on a mezzanine. They don’t have anything.

I walk up High Street knowing that I am done and it is time to set sail for home.

12.43pm. I’m at stop 32, I guess it is Northcote. I ‘m waiting for a tram to take me home. It is that super stop in the middle of High Street.

I’ve walked the length of High Street.

It’s been a good walk. If you had ever told me I would walk the length of High Street I would have said you are kidding yourself, but it’s been nice, to tell you the truth.

I bought a Spanish film, and a CD all of which cost me $4. The mandarins were $2.90. I guess I spent $5 on trams and buses. I feel quite pleased with myself.

12.45pm. Here comes a tram.

12.47pm. There is some dick with a staffy on the tram. Seriously? Not that I really care. It looks like a beautiful dog.

This tram driver is rocking this tram along like he’s late for an appointment, or something.

1pm. I’m at stop 24 on Queens Parade. I stopped in Clifton Hill to have a sniff about, but it was really a waste of time. I wanted it to be more, but it wasn’t. Or perhaps, I was really ready to head home and I should have just stayed on the tram.

Now I’m waiting for another fucking tram. I’m getting ansy waiting for the tram to arrive. It doesn’t help that there had been 3 coming out of the city while I have been waiting.

1.07pm. Finally, the tram is coming. Hooray.

Oh god, the tram is full of people, which hadn't been the case all day before this. Just take a look at them, I thought, what a bunch of fucking losers. What a shallow fucken gene pool is represented here. I say that because there wasn't a smile, or a happy face, between them. It looked as though they were all trying to complete the grim task of just trying to get somewhere, maybe in life too. For some reason, they all looked like they needed a good shower. They all seem to eye me off suspiciously as I entered the tram, as if I was an intruder, or maybe my look of disdain, which may well have been my imagination, of course.

Maybe, I had just walked too much.

1.13pm. Some bitch gets on in Smith Street yapping into her phone loudly. Grrr! Oh shut up! I only call her a bitch as her phone is on loud speaker and we are all privy to both sides of her conversation. Phones should be banned on teams.

1:21pm. I’m home.

Sam asks if I went to Brisbane for shopping?

Ha ha, I say.

Otto is very pleased to see me, leaping about enthusiastically. 

Then he sees his ball on the coffee table and he is transfixed.

Training

David calls, early, we have a laugh. I tell him that I am off to my gym session and how my girl trainer got just the slightest bit cat’s bum lips last session when told her I forgot my training watch for the second time last week. They run everything through apps and the watch provides the data for the apps. "I guess that is what they know," I said.

David said, "Oh, forget it again and tell me the look she gives you." 

I send him a photo of it on my wrist with a thumbs up. 

David answers "Noooooooooo!"

I tell him how my girl trainer keeps asking me to set goals? 

"Goals," I say to David. "How about getting through the day? That’s the only goal I have." I say. 

David laughs.

"Anything beyond that? No. I’m too fucking, er, jaded? Is that what you call it? Fuck off. Goals, dreams, aspirations, wants, whatever? No, I don’t have any of those any more. That shit is for twenty year olds. Seriously!"

We both laugh.

I get on my bike after that and head to the gym. I send David a photo half way to the gym as some form of encouragement to get him to take his dogs to the beach in Ballina, like he said earlier that he should do. But it doesn't work.

I Don't know?

I don’t know if I’m a nice person? I don’t know? I have awful thoughts about people, but I pass that off as just my arse of humour, it is dark. 

[17.01.2026, reading back over this, I came across this, my arse of humour, it is dark. I love that, and I am uninclined to correct it. You know, if it makes you laugh, how wrong can it be?

I really wanted to include an image of my black arsehole, but thought blogger might have popped it's plug. Like Carla, the HR bitch who always had red splattered shoes at work.] 

I do things that favour me and then bitch about selfish people. I don’t know that I’m overly generous. But then, I’m good at not getting caught up in other people’s shit. I’m good at keeping people’s confidences. You know, secrets. I tend to be easy going. But, I lack empathy, I think sometimes. Things that upset other people, you know when they hear the sad plight of somebody and get upset, not me. I just don’t get upset by sad stories of people I don’t know. I don’t cry at stranger’s misfortune like so many other people seem to. I don’t feel inclined to sign petitions regarding injustices, despite feeling strongly about equality in the world.

Tina Turner

I've been listening to Tina Turner the last couple of days. I love Tina Turner's music.

Some people wonder why Aretha Franklin had it in for Tina Turner. Apparently, Aretha Franklin felt that Tina didn’t show Aretha the respect Aretha thought she deserved being the Queen of Soul, and all. 

She didn’t think Tina Turner showed her the appropriate amount of respect, it is thought.

Really?

Okay, I’ll say it, the reason Aretha Franklin had it in for Tina Turner was because Tina Turner was better than her. Tina was a better singer, Tina was a better performer, Tina was a better person, Tina was more attractive, and Aretha knew it.

Okay, I’ll say it, the reason Aretha Franklin had it in for Tina Turner was because Tina Turner was as good as her. Tina was as good a singer. Tina was as good a performer. Tina was a better person. Tina was more attractive. And Aretha knew it.

Tina Turner was simply the best. She was the biggest singing star in the world there for a while.

Of course, Aretha was the best too. And we are talking about two singers who were the very best. And it was stupid that Aretha felt threatened by Tina, but, apparently, that’s what Aretha was like.

It is why she had it in for Dionne Warwick and Patti LaBelle. Dionne was impossibly cool and poised. And Patti LaBelle arguably had the greatest voice.

Aretha sounded as though she was prone to petty jealousies, which, I guess, meant she was subject to insecurities and anxiety about herself.

Stupid, really. She has been voted the greatest singer to have ever lived, twice, so it really was stupid.

Monday

It was Monday, a nothing kind of day. You know, as Mondays often are. It wasn't even a nice day. The best that could be said for it was that it was changeable. Don't you love the way changeable is so often wielded as an insult, when changeable often means inventive and interesting, but not when it comes to the weather.

Armageddon was predicted with the weather last night and today, with a severe weather warning, but it didn't quite seem to eventuate, well, where we were anyway. It rained a bit, the world turn white for a moment with the hail, but that was as bad as it got. The sun came out.

My big boss rang me and asked, "Where's Wally?"

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked. "Who's Wally?"

"Boris," he said. He laughed. It was a boss joke, I guess.

"She's got today and tomorrow off and is back Wednesday."

"Oh," he said. "Why did I give her all that time off?"

"Weak moment?" I said deadpan.

We both laughed.

He thanked me for all the work I'd done. He wanted to know where I was going away on holidays?

"I dunno," I said.

He thinks I should take some time off.

Maybe, he is right.

The sun came out again long enough for us to take the dogs for a walk.

We played it safe though and walked the main shopping strip with all the shop verandas for shelter, if need be. As it turned out, we didn't need it.

There was some poor down-and-out who had police in attendance halfway along the strip. Then the boy and girl cops walked behind us as if they were a police escort. We walked until there were no more verandas for shelter then we turned around. Not that it rained while we were walking, but the wind did blow, and it was quite cold.

Woke

It’s almost funny how conservatives have invented this term ‘woke’, well, they have appropriated it to be more correct, as a shortcut, all encompassing, umbrella term to represent all of the grievances they have against anyone who doesn’t agree with them now a days, and yet there’s virtually not one conservative who can tell you what ‘woke’ actually means, as they use it.

Take note next time a conservative is asked to define the woke agenda, they have no doubt been banging on about, and they will stutter and stumble and they will not be able to explain what it is they are complaining about.

Oh course, woke does have a meaning, it's just that all the conservatives who use that term as a pejorative are unaware of what that meaning is.

For those of you who are interested in what it actually means, it means when black people become aware of the discrimination in society against them.

 

Morning Ride

I got up early with Otto. And after I had wasted some hours mindlessly scrolling online, I took myself off for a bike ride.

My personal trainers continually ask me what exercise I have done between sessions and I continually have to answer none.

So, I went for a ride. I recorded it on my watch monitor thingy they gave me so they have the data. Oh, and you know, data is everything now a days.

I rode through North Fitzroy, North Carlton, Princess Park, along the Maribyrnong to Footscray and back. All along bike tracks, pretty much, just a small amount of time on roads, just the way I like it.

It rained a bit, light drizzle, nothing to really stop me and make me seek shelter. It was quite nice actually. I think the sun was out even by the time I got home.

I played a game of Would I blow You with every jogger running towards me to pass the time. Yes. No. No. No. Yes. Yes. Yes, and so on and so forth.

We took the dogs for a walk in the afternoon in the park.

Otherwise, it was the couch and screens for the rest of the day.

We watched Netflix Kaos tonight. It made me remember all my Greek mythology.

Friday

I signed into work at 6am.

We'd been warned that we might lose internet today due to routine maintenance, or some such thing. The internet at home went down at 7am.

I went to my gym workout.

The sun shone as I rode my bike across the inner suburbs.

Boy trainer took my session. Girl trainer must still be sick.

Some guy collapsed in the middle of the gym. He looked about 35. He was a tall, ugly fella. Of course, he wasn't at his best, granted. 

Paramedics were called. We were all asked to step outside to give them some privacy.

I have no idea what happened to him, nobody was really talking about it. It was as if there was some sort of reverential code which we all had to follow, understanding the situation was to remain undiscussed.

The guy looked a bit green as he was taken away on a gurney.

Then we all headed back inside. I forgot my water bottle which I left sitting on the ground out in the corridor just outside the door, and I went back outside to get it, when I turned sharply to pick it up, I kind of stumbled a bit and had to put my hand to the wall to steady myself. There was an instructor standing there and he asked if I was okay.

"Oh yes, fine, we'd hate to have to call another ambulance, hey?

He just stared back at me poe-faced.

Too soon, I thought to myself. Oh, that crazy sense of humour of mine.

The sun shone as I rode home.

I got home by 11am.

I had a shower. 

11.30am. The internet came back up.

Nobody from work had emailed me.

Lovely.

It was a pretty easy day. I think I got one more work email. 

And, essentially, that is the end of my full time work. Boris is back the middle of next week. Finally. Over.

We took the dogs for a walk.

Hot Tradie

Speaking of pills, I was out of one of mine this morning so I had to head to the chemist early to get a script filled.

It seems just lately, whenever I go down the shops there is this hot Middle Eastern tradie who is always outside the supermarket that got firebombed. He is fixing it, not finishing it off, you understand. He is just adorable, cute as all can be. There he was today in his cum fuck me lace up cream work boots and his tight little arse. I pictured him getting bent over as he headed to the bakery for food in front of me, he even grabbed his arse, I think he was checking if his wallet was in his back pocket. I continued to walk up the street to the chemist, whistling.

Sleeping With Bulldogs

Brun has been sleeping right up next to me these last few days. He is like the immovable object when he does that. Not only does he push me towards the edge of the bed, he also acts as a heater heating me right up to unnatural levels. He wakes me up when he heats me up.

Otto still sleeps in his playpen. You can't have two bulldogs sleeping on the bed, it just isn't viable, they would just take over.

Two immovable lumps on the bed is just not workable.

It is nice sleeping with them, him, though, But two? If you know what I mean.

Off To See The Doctor

I go for a checkup. I'm listening to Tina Turner as I walk there. Ah, a bit of Tina as I walk through the streets. Lovely.

I get there right on time, 8.30am. Funny how doctors always keep you waiting, even if you are there right on time. I always think of that Seinfeld episode with the dentist. Chuckle.

Everything is good, doc is happy with me.

"You are making it easy for me," he said. 

I wasn't, exactly, sure what he meant by that, I guess because I am attending therapy and doing all the things asked of me, like taking my pills. So many pills.

"We'll probably be able to take you some off them eventually," he says.

I wanted to say, define some & eventually, but I let it go.

I was out by 9.15am. It was a nice morning to walk home.

I worked until 2.45pm'ish. Then I got ready for training.

I got on my bike and went to my gym session in the afternoon. It's really nice, the way I go it is just about all of it through parks, or dedicated bike tracks. Lovely

Girl trainer was sick, so it was boy trainer and me. Nice to have a bit of boy trainer, for a change. Not that I would swap girl trainer, no I wouldn't.

I felt stuffed by the time I was riding home. Still, it is nice to get out and ride in the fresh air, that alone does you good.

You have got to love working from home, though. Have I said that before? Have I? Oh. Chuckle. I can really work whatever hours I like. I guess, it is as long as I do the hours? Why would I ever want to give that up.

Hot Winter Days

Record high temperatures for winter.

We have continually been warned about climate change for what, 20 years?

And yet we are still surprised when record temperatures keep occurring.

Could this have something to do with climate change, we wonder?

It is head in the sand stuff. You know, it is a sign that we are not going to survive as a species. 

And conservative commentators still bang on about climate change being a myth.

Tom

My God in not so many years it’s gonna be 20 years, very soon, a few years, since Tom died. You can hold your breath until you go blue in the face, you can scream into the void as loud as you possibly can, you can stand very still and wait, and nothing changes life and death. Nothing.

What was he in his 30s when he died? And we got so quickly from our 20s to our 30s. Click of the fingers. And then he was gone. And now he’s nearly being dead longer than our friendship lasted. Time? There’s nothing like it. Nothing stops it. Nothing changes it. Nothing cures it. It is relentless.

Best friends forever, we used to say. Who thought forever was going to be so short?

Here I am going on 20 years later and what have I done? I met Sam, since. He and Tom never met. I can't really, kind of, believe it. Such important people in my life and they never knew each other.

How can that be? Tom was a good guy.

It makes no sense at all. In a true and fair world, where there is an actual god, they’d have been great friends by now.

Saturday

Saturday, what can I say? We walked the dogs to the shops, it was quite a nice day for it. Sam did the grocery shopping while Brun, Otto and I sat outside.

I ran into an old friend, Perry. I was kind of going to avoid him, oh, we haven't spoken for some time, I kind of let him go during Covid, letting people who I didn't really see go. But, really, what does that do for anyone? Nothing. So I said hello and we chatted, he seemed good.

We bought pork rolls for lunch. A fire truck of firemen turned up as they were being made. One of them was very interested in the bulldogs. 

I was very interested in answering his questions, if you get what I mean.

We walked home with the shopping bags over our shoulders. Up the gently inclining hill, gently, buy up hill all the way. The bulldogs taking their sweet time as only bulldogs can.

My pork roll wasn't all that nice, it taste more like fat than pork. And, it was from the good shop, the one that has people queuing up, where we normally buy them.

We spent the rest of the day at home... auditioning for sloth of the day. Ha, ha. It was couches and screens for the rest of the day. Sam does TikTok, I do YouTube. Well, we'd been for an hours walk, so what the hell.

Afternoon

It was a 20 minute ride to my gym session. It seems to be taking me less time to ride it now. Funny, how that happens, even though it is exactly the same ride, it always ends up taking less time than it did initially.

My boy trainer is running my session to day. I don't know where my girl trainer is, but she's not with us. That's fine J is nice enough. He'd only been observing up until this point.

Anyway, the session still takes about an hour, and then I am done. Late morning, I climb back on my bike and ride home in the sunshine.

I'm fucked by the time I get home, via the chemist to get the missing script filled.

I hear Charlie stirring in his room, as I head to the stairs, so I race to have a shower and get changed. Charlie is in the bathroom forever when he gets in there.

No one from work has emailed me, so there is that.

3pm. I feel really tired, so I have a nap on the couch with the Rolling Stones Voodoo Lounge album playing in my headphones.

One Way To Start the day

Off to gym early. People say it is the best way to start the day. Sure. Okay. I'll go with that. I ride my bike across the inner suburbs to get there. The bike ride is good; freedom and fresh air and that sense of space and place you don't really get at any other time. The world is big and in front of you and it is, essentially, just you and the wide open spaces.

I get to see L my trainer. We'll work for about an hour and half. Then I ride home. I'm fucked by the time I train and then ride home.

I'm just waiting for a Telehealth call before I leave. Come on doc, let's go. Snap of the fingers! One of my scripts was left off my script. My doctor isn't available, so I am hearing from one of the others. He calls right on time.

"No problem," he says. "I'll send it to your phone now."

Bing, sounds my phone.

Not long after the call, he sent a text asking for me to sign over the medicare benefits. Really? But it was your mistake to be fixed. Okay, it wasn't your mistake, it was my doctor's mistake, but I'm not exactly sure why you should profit from it?

I leave on my bike for my gym session. It's a nice ride, it is the only way to get around a big city, I decide.

Working Full Time

I pretty much had had nothing to do all day. Working full time? I've been seriously doing nothing much. I hate working and not being busy. Sitting round, doing nothing, just waiting for someone to ask you something, or give you some work, it is really boring. I don't know how Boris fills in her day, I really don't. She must do nothing most of the time.

If I worked full time, I could do both our jobs easily. They need to bring in some rationalisation expert in and get rid of one of us. Ha ha.

I wasted my time online today. Other days I write stuff, which is good, a good use of my time, but that comes in waves and isn't always consistent. The writing mood has deserted me just for the moment, but that is okay, that happens, it will return.

Busy Day

I had very little to do all day. A bit in the morning, but not much after that. I lay on the couch all afternoon snuggled under a blanket with my dogs and watched the repeats of Kennedy Centre Honours on YouTube.

Busy day.

Ha ha, you've got to love working from home. 

Now don't give me that bullshit about this being the reason people shouldn't work from home. I started at 6am, and I did all of the work that I had to do.