Since I married her only daughter, my mother-in-law has asked me for the last 12 years if I’m going to an ANZAC Day parade/ceremony/flag raising/bugle fest or whatever. Each year she gets the same answer. I always say, ‘Listen, I appreciate the freedom that has been afforded me and fought for through many ugly wars. That is why I sleep in until 10 on ANZAC Day. To show my appreciation for the freedom I hold so dear.’
There seems to be far too many rainy days in Brisbane lately. Well, for the past 3 years really. Not that it’s a bad thing. I love the place looking green and lush as opposed to being hot, dry, brown and crispy.
For me the one thing the rainy weather breeds is efficiency. I am 3 months ahead of schedule transferring my business accounts over to the spunkfuckiest accounting software I have ever used, XERO.
I am not an accountant, I repeat , I am NOT an accountant. I am a normal person.
I just appreciate well designed apps that make a tedious task into an easy to manage affair. XERO is cloud based so no backing up with USB sticks, and I can do my accounts, receive bills and pay them without leaving Firefox. Thank fuck,at last simplicity.
If I get another call from some wanker trying to sell me search engine optimisation for my business website I’m going to scream bloody murder. I don’t mind getting calls from other businesses trying to drum up some business for themselves. But when their sales people call me and then refuse to take no for an answer I get the shits.
Today I had one guy (Philipino call centre routed through a Melbourne number) say to me, ‘Sir, you just must listen, I am smarter than you.’ That’s when I lost it and told him to go and fuck himself with a vegetable. In fact, I do believe that about 1/3 of the cost of my Google Adwords account for my business is generated by SEO companies searching for my line of work and clicking on my business ad in Adwords. Fucking leaches.
From now on I have a simple line to dissuade any cold caller offering me × service. I’m simply going to say – ‘I’m currently under contract for × service until January 2017. Call me back then please’.
I’ve been really missing Melbourne lately (well, for the last 6 years actually) and last week my wife purchased me return tix to Melbourne in order to take part in a little celebration at my old cricket club in Richmond last weekend. It was great seeing old cricket club buddies that I haven’t seen for 7 years or so. And when I wasn’t catching up with people I was walking around and checking out my old haunts.
Nothing much has changed in Melbourne. There’s a few more tall buildings around and the inevitable loss of some kooky little pubs and cafés, but nothing like the destruction of culture and architecture I have witnessed throughout Sydney and Brisbane. One thing that definitely hasn’t changed is the loudness of Melburnians in public places and their love of eating obnoxiously smelling food on trains and trams. Not that there’s a problem with either of my observations, I just love the outgoing nature of Melbourne in general.
My old haunts, Swan St. in Richmond and High St in Northcote and Thornbury are basically food and drink destinations now with most of the old dress shops, book shops and shoe shops having disappeared. Non-hospitality shopfronts are surviving by being a specialist in a particular style or genre which is great. The less crapola shops that exist the better – you know the type, a shoe shop that sells books and offers haircuts and sells instant coffee.
I can honestly now say that Brisbane is just a chore now. Anything I do here is just incidental and is a means of getting me back to civilisation. Now where’s that extra $600 000 I need so I can buy a shack and not have to pay rent in Melbourne…..?
Poor old Oscar. What a way to end a happy relationship!
I once mistook my wife for a burglar and yelled out,”Is that you darl, or are you a criminal stealing my shit?” She mumbled “Fuck off” in my general direction and then stumbled to the toilet and proceeded to sleep in the bathtub. She had a sore back the next morning and luckily avoided the wrath of my cricket bat that sits behind a door in the house awaiting its first intruder. That’s the closest I’ve come to mistaking my other half for a robber – very unexciting, and the result of a night out with the girls.
The pope quit.
Not many people own up to being a catholic these days. I mean, why would you with a few of the clergy having been caught out molesting children for the past few decades as well as having illicit affairs with some of their adult flock? I went to a catholic school in Redcliffe and several years after leaving my father mailed me a cutting from The Courier Mail. The cutting detailed the exploits and charges being laid against my former high school principal. He was later jailed for sex offences against boys. My dad used to coach the school cricket team alongside this principal, so I can only guess how that made him feel having worked with a disgusting person like that.
I wish I could detail what the boys at my school nicknamed the principal back then, but unfortunately it will probably cause me to be sued or something, even though the nicknames accurately describe the behavior of the man involved. But it was bizarre that even 15yo kids inherently knew and made fun of the sexual preferences of the principal.
I’ve moved on now and can best be described as an agnostic…so I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show while Karl Stefanovic reports from Vatican City in a few weeks time. He’ll entertain Australia waiting around for that puff of smoke.
So. Australia’s PM has announced that we’ll be voting for a new Prime Minister and federal parliament during the holiest time of my year – during the AFL finals series. What the frick?
Here’s our choice from my point of view:
- A party that fights and bickers among themselves, generally fucks everything it touches, make life harder for average people, increase taxes and put rules and regulations of every little bit of life.
- A party that wants to lower wages and conditions of workers, lower taxes for rich people, make life harder for average people and treat poorer people with absolute contempt. Sounds great doesn’t it!
So that’s where 113 years of federation has ended up. It seems that progress has been made from 1901 until about 1995-96. After that everything has become very ho-hum and based upon economic outcomes – not necessarily what’s best for society. But, does society exist anymore? Thatcher tried her best to ignore it and most western governments are doing the same whether they are from the left or the right side of politics.
Everybody just has to get used to the fact that we are economic units now. We are not individuals anymore. Even though conservatives will champion our freedom and individuality as something to be cherished , they really actually only want freedom and individual rights for people who hold significant wealth.
Australia will get the government it deserves in September. Most likely a government that encourages exploitation of low income workers, rewards fat baby-boomers for making money while sitting on their arses and a government that helps widen the gap between the haves and the have-nots.
Summer’s been hot. VERY hot. After a few weeks of constant 33º days everyone you pass in the street is smelling like a hobo and looking like one too, including me. But as usually happens in Brisbane, the heat is broken up by a good old-fashioned rain storm.
There’s just something about Icelandic musicians – http://youtu.be/zbJZTgTsTYU
Anil Dash was one of the original bloggers that I followed way back in early 2000s.
He recently wrote about the ‘old web’. It’s a very interesting article – well worth a read.
Not all social web developments are evil. Personally I detest facebook but have embraced twitter recently after many years of dissing it.
The net has been like an outdoor music festival really. At first it’s niche. Only the really passionate followers embrace and enjoy it. Then as the years go by retards and fuckwits latch on, crowd it out and fuck it up by boozing till they drop, pretending to know the words and drinking expensive beer just to be seen drinking expensive beer. Twee.
I’ve finally done it.
I’ve stopped smoking.
After sucking in smoke through a paper tube for 23 years of my 40 years on the planet I have stopped smoking for good.
I didn’t require any hypnotism, nor any of the new wonder drugs (Champix or similar), nor any patches or nicotine chewing gum. C O L D T U R K E Y is bloody hard though I can swear to that.
I have put on 8 kg (20lbs) in the 8 weeks since my last smoke though. I have supplemented my smoking urges with visits to KFC (unfortunately) and Mr Curry in Brisbane’s CBD (fortunately). Add to that many homemade pizzas, massive rib-eye steaks, crunchy hot chips, homemade hot dogs, roast vegies (lots of olive oil) and nice fresh green salads drowned with creamy salad dressings and I’m now a candidate for death by obesity instead of cancer.
Oh well! Gotta die from something.
The cravings at first were unbearable. I have a 7/11 and 3 other 24 hr stores within a 10 minute walk of my house so a midnight urge is easily satisfied. I really had to fight. After 2 weeks I started carrying my credit cards and cash again – for a while I didn’t carry any form of currency in order to prevent myself from buying cigarettes while I was driving around Brisbane while working. That’s when the takeaway food binge started.
From weeks 2 to 4 I also had rampant insomnia which I still have now. I find myself waking at 2am absolutely hanging for a good hard suck on a ciggy. The weirdest feeling is when I think back to my early 20s when I used to sit with a beverage and a cigarette on a beach just south of Fraser Island with my buddies and have a whale of a time on long weekends. I smoked Port Royal tobacco – a rum and wine flavoured roll-your-own tobacco. I actually mourn my loss of cigarette smoking in a strange way. I miss the habits and distant memories that nicotine helps remind me of…..
Sitting out on a beach at Inskip Point the early evening with nobody around watching satellites while smoking.
Standing on my front verandah watching the comings and goings of my busy street with a durry.
Watching bats fly around the mango tree in my neighbours backyard while puffing.
Listening to London radio stations on ‘TuneIn’ on my phone at odd hours while having a fag.
Post-coital smoking with ex-girlfriends in my mid 20s.
Smoking while drinking a pint of beer in a pub.
The list can go on forever. Cigarettes have been with me through every triumph in my life as well as every low point. They helped reward me for doing well and supported me when I was feeling lower than low.
They’re gone now and although I miss them – I don’t want to have one between my fingers or lips again……ever.