It's national coming out day. Oh, goodness, I remember.
Good luck kids.
It is bizarre that we have to do this in this day and age. It's the 21st Century. Good thing things are moving fast. Hey. I wonder if we'll be able to sue one day?
Still, the same holds, It gets better. Hang on vilified gay kids, it will get better. I promise.
Plotting you revenge afterwards, is optional. Ha ha. Of course, living well is always the best choice, in my opinion, however, you know, the options are vast.
His friend's friend from the country were coming to stay, after drinking too much at lunch, she didn't feel like catching the train back home to The Mount and it had been suggested to her that he had a spare room by their mutual friend. She said she was glad that he was home. She said she loved the motel he ran. It was a joke he and his friend had and she'd obviously been let in on it.
"Welcome to The Midnight Motel, mother will be pleased. Come this way, I'll show you to your room. My name is Norman, what's yours?"
"Marion," she squealed.
He gave her a recriminating look, she composed herself.
"What a lovely name."
His doberman was lying in the hallway outstretched.
"What a delightful dog," said Marion. "What's his name?"
"Fluff. Stay away from him, he bites."
"Oh." She gazed down as she navigated the dog, which didn't move. "Do you live at the hotel?"
"Oh... um... I live out the back, with my mother."
"How delightful," said Marion. "Will I get to meet her?"
"Um... er... no. No, I don't think that will be possible."
"Oh that is a shame."
"Would you like some tea?"
"Oh, yes. But, I might take a shower first. I was sitting in the sun all afternoon and I just feel like I need a wash."
"Oh, okay. A shower. Yes, take a shower. I assure you, you'll feel different after you take a shower."
Sam woke me at 5am asleep on the couch. I can tell you how much that thrills him. (it’s not unreminiscent of Saffy and Edina) Buddy barked so Sam let him in. We all went back to bed.
I couldn’t sleep, after that. I tossed and turned and got up again at 5.30am. Buddy was snoring loudly.
The sun appeared to rise around 6am. I got up.
I messaged David. Can’t breathe – Christian
That is funny because that is what David says to me when he is excited about something.
I made coffee. I smoked a joint on the back veranda while I drank my coffee while the sun came up. I kind of like it, that time of the morning.
8.30am. Buddy and I walked Sam almost to Napier Street, but that was where Mr Difficult Stubborn gave up. Very particular about his walks is our Bud. Very particular about the route we take, and if it is not to his lordship’s liking, well, he may just decide (often decides) not to participate.
We struggled, but we went for a walk, with Mr Difficult Stubborn being hard to get along with all the way. It was a battle. By the time we got to Woollies, I gave up.
We got home just before 9am.
I made more coffee.
I posted on Facebook, endlessly scrolled losing hours just doing it. I’m never sure if Facebook is good for us.
I wrote my fiction blog for the rest of the morning/day, sitting at my study desk, so as not to sit on the floor at my coffee table until my legs ache, a bad habit I have. Still, I was going to stand at the kitchen bench all week.
Yes, there a number of splifs during the morning, I cannot lie. On the back veranda on the wicker chairs.
Midday I had a shower and went and put a Powerball ticket on. I won nothing from last week, not even $1
13:24:10 Christian: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear marky mark, happy birthday to you
13:29:30 Mark: Thanks Chriso. I’m just off to have some lunch.
13:30:30 Christian: Why not have them brought to you?
13:32:08 Christian: How's Hanoi?
13:35:32 Mark: Oh my pome got fucked up
13:36:46 Christian: what phone?
13:37:51 Mark: marky mark is feeling eeeuuugghh
A cold has come apon hiem
His head doth ache
But he will take a taglet to combat it
So, then he,ll be a happy m
And leave his penhow attic...
I called Mark on skype. We talked for half an hour
The day slipped away, like days do.
After work, Sam and I walked to the supermarket. We didn’t bother trying with Buddy, he tends to be a one walk a day job. I’ve even seen him head straight to his kennel when his lead is bought out for a second time in one day. True.
I was pretty maggotted by that stage. Oh yes, I was a little light headed and giggly for the supermarket tour. Sam gave me looks which just made me gigglier.
Where we’ve been eating Jamie Oliver’s steaks, tonight we at his chicken. If I was honest it was a bit dry.
So sick of me falling asleep on the couch, Sam took up the prime couch reclining position, leaving me to the seated position.
At 10pm, I was told it was time to go to bed and that I was going to bed with Sam. I was like a five year old child looking around as I was taken by the hand and taken upstairs.
I woke at 6am with a completely blocked nostril. I hate that, as no matter how hard I try to fall back to sleep, I can’t.
I head downstairs and I let Buddy in. I make coffee.
Sam arrives in the lounge room a minute later demanding that he has Tiger balm rubbed in the excruciating pain in his back. I hate Tiger balm. I loathe the smell so for me to get that all over my hands, well, only for Sam. You can’t wash the smell off your skin afterwards, no matter how many times you wash them.
Sam heads upstairs. Buddy goes with him, of he does, he knows where the comfy bed is.
I am messaged to go upstairs to massage his back. I go do that, of course I do. I never think I am any good at massage, but Sam tells me I am. Well, he’d kind of have to, hey?
He and Buddy sleep until 7.29am.
I eat muesli and peaches. Sam eats fried rice. Weirdo. No wonder he has a sore back.
“You want fli rice,” Sam asks. When I question eating it for breakfast.
I look at him like I can’t quite believe he said that.
His neck is still sore. He makes me promise not to have more than two joint’s a day. He blames the sore neck on the pot. Um? But isn't pot renowned for doing the exact opposite?
I cross my heart. That it doesn’t, rather than it does.
Sam farts. “There you go,” he says.
“Lovely,” I say. “Is that the way you treat the domestic staff?”
He laughs.
Then I get one of the last oats that I eat, stuck in my throat, which I can’t clear.
“See! See! See!” says Sam.
“See what?”
“All your nasty talk.”
I shrug. “You know I don’t believe in karma.”
It is bright outside.
I smoke pot as I sit at my computer in the wicker chair on the back veranda.
Hey Chriso, did you read Antony’s message…and my reply… – Mark
yes, I did – Christian
I quickly bring up the document.
Still praying… – Mark
I read the letter.
buck up, she does nothing – Christian
his days consist of 4hrs – Christian
how hard can it be? – Christian
blah blah – Christian
I finish reading the letter.
It,s not what he does Chriso, it,s all the psychological pressure that he is trapped in that does the damage, day after relentless day of it....and he just doesn,t have the emotional fortitude to deal with it, thats obvious..... – Mark
poor lamb – Christian
I suppose I can just continue to support him , and let him know that we,re here for him, if he finally decides to move her into care....I know it,s what he wants, but Is terrified of the guilt he would feel, that,s where we need to keep supporting him..... – Mark
yes, a rich tapestry – Christian
Would you feel the same if it were me, going through the same shit... – Mark
You are – Christian
In what way... – Mark
They get old, they die, kind a way – Christian
Well yes...pragmatically speaking, but this a person we love, and in a state of emotional destitution.....can we really just pass it off with pragmatism.... – Mark
I dunno – Christian
Obviously… yes.... – Mark
We,ll just put it down to my outrageous sense of nurturing and empathy.....silly old me.... – Mark
Silly old you – Christian
Toothy emoticon.
Just remind me when Sam has left you because of your boombarness, and you are destitute and a chronic drug taking alcoholic....to pray for you.....and your rich tapestry.... – Mark
I’m not answering that, I think.
We ate pork mince and bok choi and prawns for dinner.
I got stupid stoned and kept falling asleep on the couch. Sam says he hates it, me out of it uncommunicative. You’d think I’d learn.
I messaged David
lunar aclipiage – Christian
Yes I knowiage!!! I'm home x – David
oh good, you didn’t get shot down – Christian
I stayed up to watch Big Brother. I just remember the Big Bang Theory recorded after Big Brother, finishing. Then, apparently, I fell asleep.
I'm in bed with my bulldog. He's snoring as he lays on the doona next to me. I'm juggling my laptop, my muesli and a coffee. It is 8.15am. The sun is slowly floating in through my glass balcony doors. I am very comfy, no reason to get up, you've got to love that.
I've been ignoring my boss for the last couple of days, meh, work, who even wants to think about that. He had some job for me, continuing directly on from my previous assignment, I didn't realise he'd put me up for the role. Oops. Who knew? I think he thinks that I have let him down. Oops, again. It was an innocent mistake, probably highlighting a flaw in our current job allocation system, to tell you the truth. I really wanted a week off, even if I didn't want to admit it. I've worked full time since June. (What month is it now?)
It's tiring. Who can keep up that pressure?
Guess who won't be getting work until March 2015? Now. Ha ha. (I laugh, even though that doesn't sound like too much of a threat)
I just need someone… genetically modified monkey butler? A silver mechanical man?... to fetch and carry for me. It’s too comfortable in bed. Here. I’m sure I ready something somewhere that that drop in temperature involved in departing the boudoir is actually calamitous for one’s health. I just need…
More coffee? Sir?
Don't mind if I do. Thank you, Hymie.
The thick metal hand takes the fine China cup from my hand. It is my pleasure.
And perhaps something sweet to nibble on.
Very good, sir.
Well? If I’m not going to be in gainful employment any time soon.
Apparently, you shouldn't drink more that 400 grams, I guess, 400 something of caffeine per day? One cup is about 95, I guess it is mls, most likely, of caffeine. I've settled on 3 coffees per day, down from about six cups. It's all health here sweetie.
I feel tired, with less stimulant in my blood. Ha ha. The world is a tiring place. What happened to the brave new world of less work and more leisure time? By 2020 we'll all be working 4 days per week and our robots will take up the slack. What happened to that?
Where's my Robot? You know I'd call him Hymie.
I went to visit my mum with my brother and sister. It is a good thing to do, I believe, with your brother and sister, to go and view the remains. My brother and sister were due early, 8am, or something. I was ready to go at 8am. Susanto was in bed. Junior had joined him. I think I stood out in the street from 8.15. We went in my brother’s hire car. I was expecting My sister’s Subaru. I didn’t recognise them to start with, instead remained gazing at my front fence, plucking daises out of the cracks, is how I imagined it to look.
Good start.
The roads were unusually quiet, the city seemed unusually sleepy. It was Sunday, after all
Mum was uncommunicative, just a little person in a chair, unlike Joan who was sitting to my left, in the next chair. One of the more 'with us' inmates. I'd never seen her before.
“You can’t sit there,” she exclaimed from behind me when I first sat down.
Recoiling, I said, “Why not?”
“Because the other people won’t be able to sit down,” she said defiantly.
“Well,” I said as quick as a flash. “As soon as they get here, I’ll get up.”
We bantered for the rest of the visit. Me and Joan. She took an instant shine – hate – on me.
She gruffly said, at one point, “What are you laughing at,” when we laughed at a joke.
“Where very funny,” I said.
“You think,” said jean.
She was funny. Sigh. I think she complained about us still being there. I think she told me she didn’t like me. I can’t remember what else she said now, but she and I had a good chat. Culminating in me gazing left to look at her obvious gaze drilling into my back. There she was pursing her lips at me. So, I pursed my lips at her. And then without missing a beat, her timing was impeccable, she said, “Don’t you think I am going to kiss those lips.”
“Really,” I said, being someone who is used to being kissed, “Not a chance?”
“Not a chance,” exclaimed Joan.
“I’m disappointed,” I said. “I was just puckering up.”
“In your dreams,” said Jean. She laughed that can-you-believe-this-kind-of-talk laugh.
16:32:47 Mark: Chriso...
16:33:29 Christian: What?
16:33:48 Mark: You need to go and help antony...
16:34:09 Christian: I spoke to him, he said he was feeling better
16:34:58 Mark: Surely there is something we can do for him...
16:35:34 Christian: What? Give her a happy life?
16:37:41 Christian: Have you been speaking to him?
16:38:19 Mark: Fuck her (Aileen), she,s had hers....i just think he,s going to keep self destructing until somebody takes the decision out of hands, because he finds it impossible to make it himself...
16:39:05 Christian: Yeah, I dunno. I'm struggling through mine
16:39:10 Mark: He sent me a message about whats been going on.
16:40:09 Mark: Yeah I know Chriso, but you have the support of your family and a loving partner, he has no one like that....
16:42:04 Mark: I suppose I,m just scared that it will be too little too late.....and we,ll all be guilt ridden if we dont do all that we can....a la tom waters....
16:42:09 Christian: Well, he's got his family too
16:42:25 Christian: hand the old girl over
16:43:21 Mark: Oh yeah, and their support has stopped him from self destructing.....not..
16:43:27 Christian: I'll pray
16:43:45 Mark: Oooohhh...
16:46:59 Mark: I just can,t imagine how we would justify it to ourselves, if anything happened to him....
16:47:30 Christian: He has to stop drinking
16:50:47 Mark: He won,t stop doing any of this self destruction, until he is out from under the responsibility of her, he doesn't,t have what it takes to handle it....so, what we just sit back and watch him self destruct, and sob at his funeral...wishiv we had done more...
16:56:24 Christian: I wish you'd get a new tablet (Mark, you’re keyboard is fucked up, you know that, it prints the wrong keys. Why are you asking me)
16:57:18 Mark: Why....don,t change the subject, it,s very unbecoming ..
16:58:04 Mark: Whats my tablet got to do with this...
16:58:21 Mark: Your incorrigible...
17:00:02 Mark: Speak , speak, why don,t you speak...
17:00:15 Christian: I dunno. I shall call her
17:04:45 Mark: Surely his psyche could do something ....a professional intervention, to move her into care, because of her careers mental state....I juzt have a feeling that subconsciously that is what he,s trying to manifest, because he just hasn,t got the will power to do it himself....he wants the decision, taken out of his hands..
17:07:52 Mark: Because he doesn't,t have the mental fortitude to handle the guilt...
17:31:19 Mark: Why are ignoring me...
17:31:23 Mark: Hmmmm
17:31:51 Christian: I was calling him
17:32:07 Mark: Oh...and...
17:33:14 Christian: just got back from Coles
17:34:22 Mark: Who....you or him...
17:34:48 Christian: he had a big sleep and he feels better
17:36:00 Christian: he's feeling much better
17:38:14 Mark: I just hope he doesn't,t replace the alcohol with morphine...surely they won,t keep supplying him with it...
I was awake at 5am. I just knew I was. I looked at my Nike Wrist Band for the time, but of course it was out of batteries. Damn. I tried looking at the bedside clock, but if people think the clock in the lounge room is difficult to read, then the bed side clock is hieroglyphics.
I grabbed clothes in the dark. The spot on my head directly behind my left ear is still hurting. I rub it in the dark, as I pick up track pants and zip up track top. I also pick up my lap top and phone. I struggle down the stairs. I feel so unsteady that I take it one step at a time, in the dark. I also need a shit.
I set up my laptop on the lounge room table. I have no glasses and Sam’s track pants. Doh! I have to go back up to the room, as I can’t see without glasses. I can see okay, I can’t read the computer screen. I have to, so I think I might as well get my own track pants as well. I see my discarded hole in the arse track pants still laying on the floor outside the bathroom, and realise I only have to get my glasses. I know exactly where they are, I moved them off the top of the laptop when I first picked it up. I get my glasses and let Sam’s track pants fall to the floor. It is one more risk of waking him, but he might as well be able to find his track pants when he gets up, as much as I am. I exit the room again.
I wish I knew how to download the rest of The Big bang Theory, but I don’t.
By 5.24am the day outside has lightened up.
I am cold, I want a fire.
Buddy is fast asleep tucked down in his various mattresses he has in his kennel.
I build a fire. It struggles and fills the room with smoke. I head outside to get more wood and to leave the door open for some fresh air.
Buddy comes in the second time, as he often does, it takes two trips outside to wake him generally.
The fire takes off. I open the window to let the last of the smoke out.
I have to tend the fire. Buddy starts sneaking off upstairs to bed. I stop him once and then decided that taking him up to Sam, would be much less grief than trying to stop him all the time. He bounces onto the bed enthusiastically and sneezes in Sam’s face, ah, such a bull dog. Good job Buddy, I think. Sam’s hand raises up to pat him. Sam doesn’t care, Buddy can do no wrong, in Sam’s eyes.
At 6am, I went up and told Sam he should get up and start downloading Big Bang Theory, while we are in our off peak time. We are in real danger of using up our entire 130 gig download, what with the iPhone6 release. All the phones need to pass down the chain one person and they all needed to be updated for their new owners. I got Sam’s iPhone 5S, my iPhone 5 goes to his sister. And the replaced iPhone 4S, Sam’s brother’s phone, the one that internet access problems, we had replaced under consumer law at Apple Temple Chadstone, the new 4S goes back to his sister. Sam said, “Bring me your laptop, I’ll push the button.”
I’m playing a lot of pop jazz lately. Tom Jones is my new favourite.
The Big Bang Theory is downloading. I don’t want to disrupt it. I sit in silence.
The sky is bright blue by 8am.
Aretha sings.
The day sparkled.
You’re putrid – Christian
Well the putrid vilest one will be returning this week xxxx Pho on Saturday? Let me know xxx – David
Yes, pho Saturday – Christian
I vacuumed, as we all know Sunday is chores day. I don’t care though as I’m on holidays. No work to go to tomorrow, you have to love that feeling.
I cleaned up the kitchen. “Don’t forget to wipe everything down with the yellow cloth,” says Sam.
“You are in love with your yellow cloth,” I say. “You should marry your yellow cloth.”
“Yellow cloth,” Sam’s says. He makes bench wiping actions.
“You should have been a mime,” I say. "With that talent you are clearly wasted in IT."
Sam doesn’t think it is funny.
I put the washing on.
“It is a great drying day,” says Sam.
“Peachy,” I say.
He cleaned our bathroom and bedroom. He never complains about cleaning. I often wonder what that really says about his character?
Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.
Sam is never more pleased than when we’ve cleaned the house and it is all done.
I repotted the lounge room indoor plant. One of those lilies that I always forget the name of. Sometime over the weekend we planted the big Lemon Scented Pelargonium in the garden.
The weather was gorgeous.
I played my new Randy Crawford CDs I got at JB. Lovely Randy Crawford.
We ate stir fried veggies for dinner.
We watched Sunday night TV.
I got really stoned and fell asleep on the couch, which is really very Sunday evening, don’t you agree? What else are Sundays for? Seriously? If you can’t fall asleep on the couch in front of the TV on a Sunday evening, when can you do it?
Consequently, the day was declared over at 10pm, as I gazed about half awake trying to catch up with Sam shutting the place down.
“Time for bed,” Sam declared. He does that finger point thing, just his pointer finger, pointing in the direction of bed. Then he waits, all schoolmarm’ish for me to get my sorry arse off the couch and start moving in the direction he wants me to move.
We walked into the city and ate Ramon, er, not this week, Ramen at the newest and latest place in town. Said by some, to be the best Ramen in Melbourne. We queued on Russell Street on the broken footpath, between two exits for car parks, still, the sun was shining. They open at midday, there was already a queue by 12.05pm. We queued up for about half an hour. Sam thought it was a huge joke that he got me to queue up for food in Melbourne, a thing that I always say I will never do.
When we got in, we were sitting facing a wall on a table with stools. They had clearly been cleaning carefully after the last people had eaten, there were still two vacant places next to us. There wasn’t much room, however.
“I hope they aren’t going to put those two fat queens here,” I said pointing to the two spare stools. Completely forgetting that the two fat queens were in front of us in the queue. I said it as I gazed out over the café, you know as you do when you first get somewhere. You look around. I said it as I looked directly at the two fat queens sitting at the table behind us. Well, kind of next to us. I was vague, I don’t know why? Hands in the air? But I didn’t see them.
I looked back at Sam.
He was wincing.
The penny dropped. “It was the down syndrome guy and his girlfriend who was behind us in the queue, wasn’t it?”
You’ve got to amuse yourself somehow when you are standing in a queue that is going nowhere for that amount of time. I made a comment about everybody around me. I think I’d nicknamed the two fat queens, Jean and Bunny.
Sam chastised me yet again for being handicaphobic. “He wasn’t down syndrome,” he demanded. He may have punched, slapped the table for emphasis.
I knew he wasn’t down syndrome, but it is the only way I remember people. “You’ve got to admit that he looked like it.” I couldn’t help but smile, even though I tried not to.
It was pea and ham, that was this establishment's specialty.
Sam gave me that “enough” look. Alarmed. “They are sitting right there,” he whispered to me, opening his mouth very little, and tilting his head just like John Cleese would in a sketch, kind of tilted forward.
I grimaced, I could feel my cheeks crease up. My face burned with embarrassment, even if nobody could see it. “The two fat queens?“
“A ha.”
“Was I loud?” The soup was good. Pig bone and a whole lot of other ingredients and some peas.
“Loud enough.” He winced and shook his head. “And you even seem proud about it.”
I was smiling, I have got to be honest. “And it was the down syndrome guy behind us all along?” I exclaimed. Both hands in the air.
Guess who they sat down on the two stools next to us, just as I said that. If he hadn’t heard before, and I could almost guarantee he hadn’t, he certainly had by the time he was shown to his seat. Sam nudged me, looking alarmed.
I scooped the last few spoonful’s of soup. It was yum.
I looked at Sam. He had big eyes, hurriedly looking away. He tried to ignore me, but I knew he that he knew that I knew that really he knew what I had just done. I cleared my throat. Sam looked around the room as if he was looking for a waiter. I nudged him. He momentarily, just for a milli second, looked at down syndrome guy. There, you know.
Ironically, down syndrome guy was, actually, quite good looking, quite handsome. It is just that you don’t expect a Chinese face to be that shape, but somehow, he was. His looks changed like shot material from monster to pretty movie star and back again in one glance. Technically, two, I guess. Ugly/beautiful. Ugly/beautiful. It was dazzling, in one sense, and repellent in another.
Then Sam looked at me. “Let’s go.” He punched me in the arm.
“Me and my big mouth. I must learn to speak quieter.”
“Shh,” said Sam.
I was awake at 6am. I sneaked a look at the watch under the doona. You know, as you do when you don't want to wake your boyfriend up. 6am, huh? I got up, got dressed and quietly slipped out of the bedroom.
Sam is up at 8am, practising his sick phone call. Cough, cough, cough.
All the day off, how lovely. Friday should always be a day off, don’t you think, you know, a pre-weekend day. I think it is only fair in these days of record company profit.
I made muesli. Susanto made coffee.
9:37:56 Christian: (Mark) We're smoking pot and watching Big Bang Theory from episode one. It is over cast and cold. What are you doing?
The sun is shining at midday. I put compost on the hydrangea and water it in. I see a blond girl walk past with her microscopically short dress, her pink shopping trolley and her beige, black-faced Pug, not the only thing threatening to show.
Sam cooks lunch.
Buddy lies in the pool of sunshine shining in front of the lounge room door. He doesn’t move a muscle as we continually step over him.
We take Buddy for a walk in the afternoon, in the glorious day. He is pretty keen the whole way, there was hardly any slowing to the bulldogs step. It must show that he hasn’t been for a walk for some time.
We listened to music all day.
The TV went on at 5.30pm for Millionaire Hot Seat. I can answer many of the questions.
17:12:48 Mark: Oh my favourite thing to do....i miss them when i,m away...
17:37:18 Christian: Sam downloaded the whole series of Big Bang Theory
17:37:35 Christian: every series
17:38:19 Mark: I think i,ve seen every episode at least 3 or 4 times...
17:39:36 Mark: But i never get tired of it....how could you...the writing is brilliant and the cast, superb...
17:39:58 Christian: it's amazing watching from the first episode, they were fully developed characters
17:41:01 Mark: Exactly....that just shows the difference between good, and great casting...
17:41:29 Mark: And of course, superb writing..
18:40:57 Mark: What was that you said was the difference about a good and bad book, was it being shown rather than being told...
18:48:07 Christian: Show don't tell
18:49:08 Christian: yes, what you said is right too
18:51:44 Mark: Thought that was it....i,m meeting up with tim tonight, the guy that asked me to read the book he wrote, and i am am a little nervous about what to say, as i found it very hard to read past the first 5 pages....but that will be a very succinct comment to make...
18:52:04 Mark: Tun joo....
We ate bok choi and prawns and left over stir fried veggies.
I smoked too much pot and fell asleep on the couch, so accordingly the day was declared over at 10pm and I was ordered to bed.
Sam was home sick. He’s had a sore throat and his left nostril was blocked.
Guido didn’t drop in.
Sam was going to the doctor at 12.15pm. He said his whole left side had shut down. It is kind of reassuring to hear such hypochondria out loud, self justifying. I think nervously, as I’d hate for there to be anything actually wrong with him. Whole left side shut down, what are you talking about?
Guido answered at 11.30am.
“Come now,” he said.
He said he was wearing his best Donna Summer outfit. We’d had a philosophical disagreement about La Summer earlier in the morning. I said there were multiple occasions where she was homophobic because of her Christian beliefs, he said it never happened.
Sam wanted to go to the doctor.
Go see Guido. Have lunch. Come home. That would be hours, I knew that.
I had a shower and decided that I wanted a joint first.
The doctor is always running ½ an hour late. I could go and be back. I could have a joint and then go to the doctor. That way I’d relax and not stress out too much about the time we were wasting. I wouldn’t think that if I had a joint first.
Sam didn’t see it. He called me an addict. I insisted. It was ridiculous, I was right and he was wrong. I got Sam to call the doctor to see how late he was running. He was running half an hour late.
I said, I was going to see Guido.
The traffic was awful, of course it was, isn’t that Cunt’s Law, and I didn’t get to Guido’s until 12.15pm.
Sam texts me he was walking to the doctor.
I am driving back up Langridge Street when Sam is walking down. I stop. He gets in. “Drive me to the doctor,”
“The traffic is really awful, you are better walking,” I say.
“I see,” he says.
He gets out and stomps off. It’s not that I didn’t want to drive him, he was honestly better off walking, the traffic was a cunt. I don’t really know why.
I come home and roll two joints. Now, I am pretty sure Sam would read this differently to how I would read it. But, nyr, what can you do, the traffic was terrible, the joint I was about to smoke had nothing to do with it.
Sam texts that he will find his own way home. I text don’t be ridiculous, as I am smoking the first joint. I walk to meet him.
He is still waiting to see the doctor. I take him a joint. He says he doesn’t want it.
He is called into the doctor.
I read that the supreme court of USA has upheld that the police need a warrant to search a person’s phone, unlike a wallet or a bag maybe, as a phone is now capable of storing that person’s life.
We eat Vietnamese. While we’re out, before we go home.
We shop for groceries. The never ending quest for groceries. Hunters and gathers to the very end, is that what this says? Ha ha.
We walk home with ton weighs each. Slung over our shoulders.
Cleo Lane plays. Maybe in my head?
We ate fish we bought at the shop and left over stir fried veggies for dinner.
We went to bed at midnight.
The controversial security directive that mandated that visitors wearing full-face coverings, such as the Islamic burqa or niqab, be segregated into enclosed, soundproof public galleries normally reserved for schoolchildren was issued jointly by the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Bronwyn Bishop, and the President of the Senate, Stephen Parry, Liberal Party Senator for Tasmania.
Does everyone realise that not only will the legislation being passed by the (one term Liberal) government this week allow ASIO to spy on you at any time for any reason in any capacity ASIO decides that it wants to spy on you, it will also ban you from visiting certain countries. The government will only allow you to visit the countries it thinks are suitable for you to visit. Did everybody realise this?
Please don't give me that tired old line, "If you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about," because I will counter that with the name of every Royal Commission into police corruption there has been, and there has been many.
Abbott and his team of despicable big business pawns – Rupert told Tony Abbott to lick his arse and the only thing Tony Abbott asked was, Is my tongue in far enough, Mr Murdoch? – have played the national security card because, with the show terrorist emergencies, because, let's face it, they have fucked up everything else. It is the only thing left for them that they look likely to have any success with. And to facilitate their only hope of retaining power, the Australian people have now lost their freedom and their right to travel the world freely. Does everybody realise that?
I left work at 4pm. It is lovely to finish the week early. Christine was going to pick up her son’s car in Collingwood, so she wanted to leave early herself.
It was a lovely afternoon.
We ate nachos as a snack as an early pre dinner.
We ate left over vermicelli noodles later on. Sam served up a mountain of them. There was left over stir fried veggies too.
We watched TV.
Sam went to bed early and I watched Big Brother.
David messaged me on Facebook late… even though we are not friends on Facebook. We’re not allowed to be friends by David’s own decree. He uses his Facebook page professionally and he has two friends who are banned as friends, who are too, shall we say, open and frank with their dialogue and can’t be trust, me being one of the two.
Yes darling !!! Less mess here and more city appropriate ... Goodbye ... Bye bye ... Baba baba.... – David
You can't send me messages. You are not my friend – Christian
But I just did ... And you are my friend!!!! – David
Ha ha – David
not I'm not. you wont let me – Christian
Hahahahahaha – David
But you have always been my friend Dorothy – David
That's against the rules – Christian
No darling ...we don't need Facebook to be friends – David
We need messenger ... Lol!!! – David
we need marijuana – Christian
I gathered that when you started projecting that I needed pot – David
Won't Sam let you? – David
if you project, it means you have smoked too much. And you have to be careful not to hit anyone with it – Christian
Is thAt the case? – David
I presume YES and you've run out – David
all I have is fresh air and good intensions, sad as that sounds – Christian
BahahahahahahHa .... – David
Although there is a long weekend coming up, wink, wink, nudge, nudge – Christian
Yes ... Pull out the crack carrot under Sams nose ... Il certain shell bite and then voila ... Pot will be yours too.... Haha !!! – David
oh no, I don't need the green goddess when I have the white goddess – Christian.
Of course, I didn't have any, but it's always a winning poker move to bring up an ex-addicts Achilles heel.
You're vile – David
BWHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – Christian
The difference between Christianity and homosexuality.
Homosexuality is honest and real. Christianity is a myth and a refuge for the deluded.
Homosexuals want the right to live freely and equally with everybody else.
Christians want everyone to live according to what they believe.
Religion is failing, becoming more and more irrelevant.
Homosexuality is succeeding, becoming more mainstream... so much so that more straight boys and girls are willing to admit they have given it a go.
There aren't many people saying they tried religion and liked it. There aren't many saying they kissed a priest and liked it.
I think the groups that will survive and flourish in the "popularity wars" in the future are those who can live and let live. Religion needs to modernise or die. I reckon the gays have got it in the bag, public opinion has shifted. Religion will only look small and petty and out dated if it can't move into the 21st century with every one else. Come on religious freaks, you could still play an important social role, if you could just give up the hating.
Okay, so developing countries need to catch up, but they will. And Russia? It is a corrupt country run by a criminal, so it may take a bit longer. The basket case countries like Uganda may take forever.
India? What the hell happened with you this year?
