I'm loving the sunrises this week

Tax landlords for empty houses

Tax landlords for empty houses?

Where do they come up with these stupid ideas? If someone owns a house, it is nobodies business but their own what they do with that house. I know abused woman are the flavour of the month, but really houses owned privately have very little to do with the bad choices women make.

When did the govt opt out of providing such services? And when did we accept them opting out? Everything is now a levy, or a tax. Why can govt no longer pay for services? For example, we used to have free education and free medical (remember that?), why as a society can we no longer afford these things? What happened to govt revenue? Can someone please explain?

Sexy Old Planes

Yes, I am very busy

Lockheed C-69 Constellation in silver is a sexy old plane, back in the day when planes were planes and pilots, actually, flew them.

11.11

I was reading about 11.11 at 8.30. (8 + 3 = 11)

Have I ever written about 11.11? I guess I must have. I have seen it all my life, on clocks morning and night. You may notice that I save a lot of my posts at 11.11. 

I didn't tell anyone about it until I was with Mark, well into my 20s. I still remember it, we were driving down Langridge Street in Mark's old blue Range Rover... oh, wait. He got that car a few years into our relationship, after his other car was stolen, so it was a few years after we first met, so maybe I was in my 30s.

Since then, I have read all the stuff on the internet, there are books, websites, you name it. Some people are really serious about it. It boggles my mind. I don't believe all that stuff, but I still find it interesting.

Chihuahua, Devil Dog

My dinner companion last night, Nicholas, said he wanted to buy a chihuahua, as his next dog. Here is somebody who, actually, wants one of those evil little rat dogs. I was taken aback. (It is very hard to type with a bulldog in your lap) He said that is why he likes them, the more evil the better, as far as he was concerned. He was going to call it Freddy. I can see it now, beady eyes, lesions on the brain from all that in-breeding.

1950 Chevrolet ute. Thornbury. Yesterday

A duck egg blue Chevy ute. You don't see one of them every day. I went to the pet shop to get pet food and there it was sitting in the street, cool hey.

The Housemates Play Musical Chairs

Tab moved out last Tuesday, he only lasted 2 months. He has moved in with his sexy blond-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend, Blake. 

"We're very close," said Tab. He had a nerdy-uni-straight-beenstork vibe about him. He was tall. The small, thin moustache didn't help.

At exactly the same time, Tuan said he was moving out in month. He is heading home for 8 weeks. He'd look for a new place when he got back.

So much for new housemates, we thought. 

At exactly the same time, Matt text me about an old friend/acquaintance, colleague with my ex Lauri, Andy. Andy was keen, he was in less than idea circumstances, I believe. So he came over and he seemed nice, so he moved in yesterday.

He said, "You don't know how happy this makes me." A bit of gratitude never goes astray. I could almost taste it, I don't know from what he escaped. It is the whole top floor, with its own bathroom. It is silly that is sits there unused.

So, we have successfully moved people into the parts of this big house that we don't use. I think it an economically sustainable, for the planet, not for me.

I Love This Morning Sky

This morning was all yellow, gorgeous like custard. Serene and dramatic all at the same time. It reminded me of the Coldplay song, in fact, I might go and play it.

I've Got a Coldsore Beard

I've got a coldsore beard. Yes, I've got a damn coldsore and I hate shaving when I have a coldsore. I don't like putting anything near my mouth, when I have a coldsore. Even brushing my teeth is a challenge. Damn coldsore! I never used to mind, but my beard has specks of grey through it now, so I hate my beard too.

Maybe, I need a motorbike helmet? Ha, ha. 

It is not so bad really, it is right in the corner of my mouth, so it is barely noticeable. But it is still there, I still know it is still there. I can feel it, like a great big something stuck to my lip. Euw! I must stop licking my lips too, when I have a coldsore, as my lips become dry and crusty, just to add to the general euw!

The Getaway Car

It's Cold

Jesus! It is cold. Can I get an Amen? 

I'm freezing my arse off smoking outside on the back veranda, all the time texting David asking him if it is cold enough for him. It is biting out here. And David hates the cold.

I thought I was getting my heating fixed nice and early in the season, before winter, you know, nice and organised. But no, apparently not, for once in my life my timing was spot on. I'm never good with that, always way off.

It is sooooo freezing outside, winter is here. Not quite Jack Frost, but feeling like it is cold enough to be. Right off the Arctic. I don't mind, I kind of like winter.

I sit outside and puff on my cigarette, as my shiny new heating unit takes off and lands at Tullamarine, right next to me. But, at least the house is warm. The heating man is coming today to see if anything can be done about the fan, or if mine is faulty. Can something be done about it? He'll think I am one of those clueless lefty leaning, wine sipping... here the analogy breaks down... I don't know what.

"Nah, nothing wrong with it," he'll quip to the boss when he gets back to the office. "He's dreamin'."

Egg, smoked salmon and avocado for breakfast.

The sun is bright, the shadows of the hibiscus leaves, long across the brickwork, crisp, as I kiss Sam good bye. 

I have to go and play ladies at the doctor at 9.45. Walk there in half an hour, I reckon. Tra la la, take my phone, take photos on the way. Tra la la la la. I have bumps on my forehead and lumps on both my cheeks that need to be frozen off. There feels like a multitude of them. I am officially the Elephant Man. A flu shot. Check if I need to have any blood tests that may be due.

I had perfect blood pressure.

I’d lost 6 kilos before Easter hit. I pigged out over the chocolate festival. I declined to be weighed today.

There is nothing that can be done with the noisy fan on my flash new hydronic heating, "You have to live with your Concord, as purchased, sir." Seemed to be the last word.

"Really? With that high-pitched whistle? "You can hear it next door."

"I'm sorry." Carl shrugged. "They are all like that, they all have fans."

"I wished I'd know that when I was shopping for a new private jet," I said kind with a laugh, to soften it. Sarcasm light.

"Sorry," said blue-eyed Carl. 

And then I got lost in those Safire pools, I am sure they send Carl on purpose. And all I could think was, "yes, I'd suck your cock." Sam had pestered me repeatedly all morning about getting it wired up for a remote control capability. Nothing. None of that. "No, you wouldn't have to reciprocate."

Carl turned and left.

My arm aches from my flu shot.

I come back in from the back veranda, I have 2 sets of brown eyes. "You 2 moppets." And a yellow set from the couch. They are all friends. "Christian's Boarding Kennels," open for business. This is a snap.

Rainy Wednesday

It rained all day, drip, drip, drip. From morning until night. I had no excuse not to sit inside and eat. It was a glorious day, no reason to leave the house. Pity it wasn't colder, I'd have lit a fire. I don't know why I didn't light a fire anyway? Stupid me. You'd think the constant sugar rush would have got me up and doing things. No, not me. YouTube all the way baby... manically from artist to artist. Chuckle. Hardly that, I was slowed down more than I was sped up, if you get my drifteroo. Smiley Face. It was only when The Rolling Stones sang 'Doom and Gloom' that I'd had enough of Jagger's voice.

Working From Home

Working from home just means you are taking the day off, doesn't it? Sam is "working from home today" and he has done jack. Unusual for him, this is the first time he has done that, all the other times he has worked his arse off, but still. That's what it is, isn't it. All those Finance Managers, HR Managers. "We'll just be working, working, yes working from home. I can just see it, I'm guessing 50% of the time they'd work. That's what it would be?

Fatty Cake Snoop Lady was forever working from home. But I always used to picture her lying in bed, eating pastries with crumbs all over her mouth, stomach and bed, dressed in some small slip of a nightie, watching morning television. She had a skirt of flesh to her knees. I just can't imagine what that would feel like.

The entitled upper echelons, of middle management, they're are the main culprits. The ones who wish they were higher up, and whose work they often felt was over looked. It's pay off for all the ordinary ones, whose only real achievement was to claw their way to the middle of the business. The people who the CEO wouldn't necessarily have on the tip of his tongue.

Those people. Christina. Susan. Cathy. Paul.

Anyone with less responsibility has no business working from home, they are all just mental health days, let's not kid ourselves. I can't be fagged days. I can't be bothered struggling with my kids day. My work load is too great days.

I'm not saying it is a bad thing, with all the unpaid working hours Australians put in, I reckon it is ever worker's right. Just open to everyone, that would be utopian, though, I guess.

Chill out strings hum in the back ground. A gentle breeze blows in the window and the open French Doors.

The bulldog, laying so artistically across the green carpet, his red and white fur almost the perfect contrast in the golden light, farts silent and deadly, putrid really, without a sound. It is not until the mustard gas is burning my eyes...

"Jesus!"

Buddy snores contentedly, he always gets to work from home. His fur is soft and shinny, we washed him today.

Lovely Monday, So Could Easily Have Been My Monday Morning From Hell

This morning, I could have gone to work to the assignment from hell, but instead I am home drinking coffee and pissing around on the internet, with my bulldog acting as a lap-dog, keeping my thighs lovely and warm. He lays in the middle of my crossed legs, his head on one thigh and his arse up against the other thigh. He's like straddling a medium sized poof, (pouffe, not a small man) giving birth to a medicine ball. I don't know, but he doesn't cover my feet and keep them warm, damn him.

Lovely Monday, so could easily have been my Monday morning from hell! Maybe there is something to this "Universe" bullshit, because I was talking to whoever would listen last Friday around 5pm, tick, tick, tick, to anyone who'd listen, let's be truthful, God, Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Krishna, L.J. Hubbard, the Sugar Plum Fairy, any fucker with some, alleged, skerrick of, supposed, influence who was listening and could help. I was desperate. And here I am, warm legs, cold feet, giddy head, if you get what I mean. Lovely. Talk about snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. (or is it the other way around?) Talk about coming through at the last possible minute. I was viewing 6pm as my last strike on the Doomsday Clock, as the chime started its first piercing clang, as I was staring down death and certain defeat, nothing was going to save this little black duck by that point, when my phone rang, and it was Jack telling me he had found a replacement, another contractor willing to take over, he was, apparently, pumped about the position. 

"Here, this is awful, you have it," I said. "And good luck with that." And I metaphorically skipped off home by the rose covered garden path.

I was more than a little concerned about the boss guy and the fear many of the staff showed towards him. He was your classic ex-jock only risen to middle management and resenting everyone for his lack of achievement. I am sure several of the staff were terrified of him. I'm guessing he beat his wife.

Lovely. A quiet, stress free Monday after all. Thanks god, Allah, whatever imaginary, placebo affect, coincidental, deity, for "think it, do it!" I realised the joint was dodgy (that is the company and not the spliff, you understand) and instead of doing my normal step back "let's give it a chance," (and end up being miserable for the duration of the assignment) I called it out as awful and got the hell out. 

Now, I can continue rotting away in my lounge room, pretending to write, hoping it hasn't gone to my head regarding the ease with which I am chucking in jobs, if the last 2 months is anything to go by... ah, fuck it, who needs that aggravation.

The back garden sparkles in the sun light.

Mark stayed all day. It was nice, we chatted. He didn't catch his train to the coast until late in the afternoon. He wanted my car really, he'll be back on Friday, but I am on holidays, I can go wherever I please, and while there is a good chance I won't use my car, I just might too. He didn't really see it that way, I kind of think he thought I was being mean. Oh well. Ex-boyfriends and the bottom line is that it is my car. We don't have to come to a harmonious compromise any longer, that is why we are ex-boyfriends.

Scrum

We watched "Scrum" at the Queer Film Festival. We went with David and Lachlan. Mark met us there, (he's been down from NSW for a week) after spending the day in the botanical gardens with his sister and their mum. His mum suffers from alzheimers. He pushed her around in the wheel chair, up a lot of hills by the way he was saying that he was creaking.

Scrum, it was quite nice, even if I did nod off at one stage, but I liked what I saw. The cinematography was very washed out and blue. The characters were good. Mark cried he was so touched. Sam said it was rubbish, but he does tend to like blockbusters, or animated. David was straight on his phone afterwards, as he does, yap, yap, yap, so I didn't hear what he thought. Lachlan wore a beanie. (David and Lachlan are on the precipice of breaking up, Lachlan was very quiet)

Sam and I spent the earlier part of the day having lunch, sushi train, and sniffing around Dick Smith for a bargain. All the city outlets. (I refuse to say store. When did Australian's change to saying "store" exclusively?) 

The sun was shining in that warm, golden, wintry kind of way, it was nice to be in Fed Square, in the late afternoon. We drank coffee, of course, and white wine, dry white wine.

Free Man

Good old Jack, came through at 6pm, just when I was starting to lose hope and get really cranky. Boof-head wants a full report on why I have backed out.

"Oh... big doofus... did someone not like you? Coochy Coo."

Monday morning, with Jack, that is something to look forward too. I wonder if it is really Jack wanting feedback and not the client at all? However, I am now a free man. "Woo-Hoo!"

I'll probably never work again. Jack's leaving too, going to a new role. Things aren't looking good for this little black duck in the old halls of commerce.

It would have been my father's birthday today, he would have been 85 years old. Aloysius Grant. Alex was a good bloke. He's been dead for 14 years. Prostate cancer. I still feel like I missed 14 good years with him. He could die respectably at 85, not 71 when everyone you know loves you. Dad’s brother, Uncle Ev is still alive at 84, and he doesn’t seem to have aged at all, except for his hair turning grey.

You're dead a long time.

What do I care about Jack and his assignments?

Extracting Myself From Hell

Well, that hasn't gone so well. The new job. There is a complete meathead in charge of who, and I could be misreading this, but I don't think so, everybody seems to live in fear. Big, box head, grunts a lot. He has no idea what is wrong with their processes and procedures, but he wants me to fix them anyway. He seems to have no problem asking me to perform duties outside of my scope of contract, as though I am his permanent employee. (Hey mate, I am only filling in until you get yourself a real employee... 6 to 8 weeks max) The exiting employee who is doing the handover was away one of the two days I had with her last week that she was supposed to be instructing me, as she had no one to look after her kids in the holidays. She completed crucial work I am supposed to know, at home. Boof-head's only comment was, "Ah, oh, yes, I guess that is a problem."

I sat there for the second day, well, morning, with no computer and nothing to do, until I said that it was pointless. (I can't stand being bored and idle at work, at the best of times, I need to be busy)

On our way out the first day, I asked the exiting employee if she was going to a new job, she stopped walking, looked nervous and said, "Ah, oh, no... sorry I have left something behind," and cut the conversation off as though she really didn't want to talk about it and walked back in the opposite direction. Of course, there could be a multitude of reasons for that that I don't know.

I just have a very bad feeling about the whole thing.

All I can see is two months of misery ahead.

Jack called me to ask me how it was going. I told him what I thought. And he said, "It is no problem to replace you Christian, if you really don't think it is going to go well."

We finished the conversation with, "See how you go next week," said Jack. "Don't stress."

I ate my lunch and thought, there is no problem to replace me? Two things I have found from doing contract work, that when I turn down/get out of a shitty job a better one always comes along. And, I've learned though experience, in permanent and contract roles, don't stay in a job you don't like, life is too short. So I emailed Jack (wimp, I know, but I didn't think of that at the time) and said, "Jack please replace me."

My company could send in a systems analyst to give them a structure to fix all of their problems, but, of course, they don't want to pay for that. They expect little old me to sort out their systems and rejig their procedures, all the while completing the day to day work as well. I've seen this before, and sorry guys it just doesn't work that way.

So now I am waiting for the word, that I have been replaced. Cross your fingers. Please universe, don't send me back to hell that would seem to me to be very unfair. 

Killing Rinos

Killing Rinos for the aphraodisastic qualities of their horns, (the loss of a magnificent species just to make men with small penis' feel better about themselves, repeat that to yourself a few times) is kind kin to us denying global warming as the planet falls to pieces. 

Neither make any sense.

Working again.

I've taken on a job for 2 months, April and May. Jack called me last week, "It'll be easy," he said. There was some talk about me doing it permanently, and the big blokey boss mentioned yesterday in our chat when I first arrived, but I don't think so. It is going change to be a full time role, and I don't want to work full time. I, at least, should make some attempt to write, it is what i want to do after all.

It is why I got two new housemates, so I can work less.

I think I am allergic to permanent roles, ha ha, no not really. It is just that I am happy doing contract work, I don't know why I even consider a permanent role. Just do what you are doing, Christian and enjoy the time off it gives. permanent roles are to much of a commitment. All those KPIs and PDRs, it is all too much. And, really, a waste of time. Let the managers do that sort of stuff, that is what they get paid for after all.

Oh well, no time to tra la la around, gotta go.

Autumn colours in the park