Makes Sense

• I don't get writers block, I just run out of things to say.

• I don't like to talk.

• I have a habit of finishing peoples sentences.

• I think sleeping is a waste of time.

• I talk to teenagers about sex openly.

• I don't have sex with them.

• I call myself a pervert but I'm really an overzealous romantic.

• I didn't expect to live beyond the age of 18.

• I am exhausted in every way possible.

• I lost my virginity because I didn't know how to say no to a girl.

• I am going to turn my bedroom into an entertainment lounge.

• I have an apple core slowly rotting next to this laptop.

• I want to visit China someday.

• I believe in God.

• I have more faith in children than I do in God.

• I don't want to out live anyone I know and love.

• I would remove my sex drive if I could.

• I like to be teased.

• I wish I could sleep on a bed made of balloons.

• I have a very evil side of me that is hard to sedate.

• I am, you are, we are.

iTouch Myself

The morning broke early for me yesterday, and a long day ensued. I was up at 4:30AM, horny as hell for no reason whatsoever and with nothing to do because it was cold and dark, so I remained under my blanket drifting in and out of sleep, till around 8:00AM. After pulling myself out from my warm comfortable bed I jammed two pieces of peanut buttered toast into my mouth and waited around the apartment until the clock struck 9 - its business time! I'd been waiting many weeks for this day; something about big purchases always does that to me. I can't just splash a whole lot of money on myself unless I absolutely need it; this is why I am yet to purchase a bed since I already have a terrible one, however what I didn't have was an iPod Touch, otherwise known as an iPhone without the phone. And after 24hrs with it I must say that it is the best thing I have ever bought. While I sat on the couch listening to Elvis last night I was able to pay my rent, send an email, visit my hometown of Adana in Turkey, watch myself on YouTube, look up medical advice and keep an eye on the weather. This thing is amazing! If I had a vagina this would simply be the best dildo in the world. And the sound quality is just so crisp and clear. The thing I find amazing about the iTouch business model is that you have to pay for some Applications, songs, games, movies, etc. In a world of piracy (something I've been doing since before the internets) this sort of thing is actually very smart. So smart in fact that I don't mind paying a few dollars to turn it into a mobile porn machine, which I've already discovered is the weakest link in this device. That's right, it fails as sedative to my fantastical sex drive but I'm okay with that. Now I can document my thoughts, get directions, movie times, restaurant reviews, transfer money and play Bejewelled wherever I am. I initially wanted this in the name of retail therapy, an exercise in money, power and possession, but now I'm actually impressed. This isn't the Xbox, which I bought for others to play when they visit. No, this is my precious little baby. Until I drop her. And she breaks. Who needs children when you have wafer thin technology that will break as easily as a hip bone at a staircase orgy?

Cheer Up, Guy

My mother was a sex fiend and fraudster.

My father, a gambler who was prone to violent outbursts.

I'm pretty sure I've seen people killed.

My father, in a car and with his own hands in a drunken rage.

It could've just been a dream.

Can you tell I need a holiday?

A holiday from my heart and mind.

Lose Your Friends

About five years ago I started an online campaign to install me as the next President of the United States. A somewhat revolutionary idea fuelled by a fantastical ego. It took some time before a friend carefully explained that not only would I be refused entry into the race for the White House but I would most likely be refused entry into the US. It was also explained that I couldn't be a Prime Minister of the country I live in or the President of the country I was born. So, in short, I will never be a world leader. Then a subtle yet influential young black man came along and goose stepped his way into the most powerful position in the world. And while I continue to sit here with awful odds of being made any kind of leader I do hold some kind of rich hope that something romantic and unique could happen in my own life. It is just one of the reasons I have the most inconsistent and obscure relationships with people; I want the most unlikely to come true, like a tainted fairy tale. Some people hope for excitement, others hope for their lives to slow down, however I'm standing somewhere in the middle of all that with my Speedo's and wizards cape. It all goes back to my first girlfriend who just happened to be the most popular girl in the school; I went from relative unknown to the most popular boy. It was romantic. It was unique. It was crushed and cleared by reality. Looking back on the 2004 US Presidential Race I can't help but feel I could've done a better job in the four years that followed. Yes, I know anybody could've done better, but I would've been the only person to do it in pastel green underwear, a navy blue tank top, fluffy robe and shoes. I have no idea why I'm not wearing pants!

Days Go By

The taste of good chocolate is simply indescribable. The delicate balance between the sweetness of the chocolate itself and whatever has been added to it is something the taste buds enjoy dancing around. I've long had an uneasy relationship with the stuff since it is the only sweet treat that I struggle to say no to. For someone as strong willed my reactions toward things such as chocolate, boobs and weed always surprise me. But here's the thing, you can't simply package nice things with random abandon and expect me to approve. For example, I love chocolate but you can't mold one into a shape of a penis and make me eat it, regardless of how good it tastes there is always the unavoidable fact that I have a dick in my mouth. Now see, heres my point; I can casually talk openly about my sexuality without fear of repercussions whereas everybody I personally know can not. This is one of the main reasons people often mistake me for an unrepentant sex fiend; my curiosity has no shame. In fact, there is very little shame toward anything in my life... except for my sexuality. Let me explain; throughout high school mates often thought I was gay for no reason other than that I could talk so easily to girls. Even the girls I spoke with thought I was gay because I had no normal teenage interest in sex. Then I got laid and everything changed; now I was willing to tell people what I'd done with and planned to and for ex-girlfriends in the name of hetrosexual curiosity. Soon enough everybody began to understand my relationship with women and how I tip toed between love, fun and sex like some sort of science experiment. So, for the most part people rarely confuse me with a gay man. That is until I do something like this:

Fore Ewe

Things that can be improved with a little subtly:

Pens With Swords: I don't care how its done and no, I'm not talking about putting a pen on a Swiss Army Knife, though I do wonder why there isn't one! I'm talking about a pen that can suddenly turn into a sword. Or a Light Saber. Then again, making such a suggestion brands me a sexy nerd. So be it!

Cars With Pogo Sticks: How many times have you been stuck on the side of the road awaiting assistance without an adequate activity to kill time with? I've been stuck once and for my troubles I had a book. A book of political facts. A bloody Pogo Stick would have been nice. Or a fishing reel at least.

Phones With Suction: Recently I noticed there was an application you could download for the iPhone/iTouch that simply makes your iWhatever vibrate. So with the ladies covered how about something with a USB connection that can be attached to the end of, say, my thumb. Or my big toe. What? Don't look at me like that. I'm serious!

Laptops With C4: I'm sure there is room under this thing to pack some form of dynamite. This has nothing to do with the fact that my laptop is the slowest porn machine ever but rather because I like to see things explode. Or have someone try to steal it and watch their hands explode. The comical facial expressions that will ensue.

Condoms With Rockets: Actually, that's a stupid idea. Unless you're planning on having sex for the very last time. If I could just hook a set of small rockets to my penis... actually, its still a stupid idea. Maybe a spring loaded vagina instead? Would make child birth a whole more easier. And fun!

Pinatas With Fish: Think about it. Candy is so, um, 90's? I don't know. What I do know is that fish are timeless. Well, they're going to be extinct within the centuries end but until then I suggest we start packing paper mache donkey's with water and goldfish and start whacking the ever living fun out of it.

Or Something

There is a common emotional thread that appears to be binding almost everyone I know, and that is a sense of loneliness. It is an odd thing to see in others, especially when I've been feeling it for as long as I can remember, so long that I feel crowded in my own company when I'm happy. It is the reason I naturally envy others; I assume they can always turn to those who unconditionally love them. Growing up as dirt poor as I was made it easy to envy others for various reasons, whether it was based on an assumption or a fact. For example, even if someone did seem lonely they at the very least had a working car. Or a wallet. Or whatever it was they had that I didn't, which was everything. When I saw kids crying over food they refused to eat my mind would simply implode. So last night when a good friend shared the story and heart ache regarding his recent break up I finally accepted that I have no idea how others view the world of love and companionship. Not only is that a daunting thought but considerably heart breaking since I am a man of logic and reason, I need to know what makes people do the things they do. Sitting across from my friend last night in the eerie silence I could see him facing the demons dancing around his heart. Time stood still while the remaining colour fell from his face. I could only remind him that he was free now, that he didn't have to answer to anyone but himself. He was reluctant to accept this. And I can't blame him. After casually informing another good friend last night that I'm recently single she wished she was more like me, she wished to be more detachable from love and companionship. All I could think was, trust me, you don't want to feel this alone. So alone you find yourself detached from yourself. Its all in the choices we make, our heart is but a guide.

Big Fish, Little Fish

For a young man who has never really had the financial ability to splurge on high ticketed clothing I was quite amazed with my efforts to make a mate of mine look good enough to be let into an exclusive nightclub last night. Stopping at my house before he set off I couldn't allow him to leave in the sneakers and second hand jacket he'd turned up with. Two hundred dollars worth of clothes and shoes later and he looked just fine. I felt a little gay - it was a good moment. Even if he did ruin it by complaining about my longer arms because my best looking jacket is too big on him and perfect on me. Men, amirite.

I caught my boss the other day talking about me; I was around the corner getting something from my locker and I heard him say "I liked him better when he was quiet and looked depressed. His jokes kind of scare me." So I gave them that person again until he started complaining about me not getting along with anyone, even though I told them from the beginning that I just want to go to work then go home. I don't want to be buddies. Nothing personal. One week I'm told that I don't have to be intelligent. The next I have to slow down. Now I have to get along with everyone. Lame.

Whats the deal with Eddy Murphy? He had so much potential and was on a good ticket until the mid-90's. I remember watching his stand up comedy for the first time when I was 12. I'd never heard anything like it, so I had no idea who Richard Pryor, George Carlin and Bill Cosby were. It was real early in the morning and I put the VHS tape into the player and was left in fits of laughter. I was happy for two reasons, because he was funny and because I had no idea being offensive could be so funny. It brought me out of my shell.

Around the same time I discovered porn. It was also a VHS tape that my father had stupidly jammed underneath a couch we all used. It was called The Exhibitionist. It was arty but also hardcore. I was so confused. And aroused. I didn't leave the apartment for days. For the year that followed all I wanted to do was find as much porn as possible. I've never told anyone this before but I sought therapy for my sudden porn addiction. The therapist was hot! Woe was me. I have since made my peace with porn.

Take Five

It doesn't have to make sense.

That's just the way it is.

Don't confuse logic with reality.

Or reality with your nightmares.

It is what it is, so let it be.

The choice is yours.

Drop The Shovel

Things I want to do by the end of the year:

• Take a holiday: The last time I went on an actual holiday was a little over six years ago, and that doesn't really count since an old friend tried to kill herself. On the plus side I had my first experience with snow. I need a break from my life. I'm thinking somewhere that needs a plane and boat to get to.

• Learn to cook: For a while now I've been considering doing a culinary class in advanced cooking. Although I have a terribly awkward kitchen I want to know how to make everything from scratch. And other basics, like how to make fresh pasta and pizza base. Oh, yes. If only there were sex classes I could attend.

• Finish off my body: In the last couple of months I have lost the weight I gained from the first part of the year. This is the most common yearly goal I set and manage not to accomplish so its about time I get done getting sexy. Besides, all the guys in the sales department are buff and, like, fuck those guys! Assholes.

• Write a novel: Or atleast finish one that I've started! Everyone continues to tell me how well I can tell a story and how good my writing can be when I care. So as soon as I get some mental clarity I'll get straight to the writing portion of the year.

• Buy a new bed: In the last nine years I've spent almost five thousand dollars on computers and PC related paraphernalia. In that same period I've spent all of $500 on a bed that was supposed to be a couch. And it is a futon. I know, right.

• Legally drive my car: Seriously, this shit is bananas! I've spent more than enough money on a car I've been legally refused from driving for the last six months. Stupid honest New Orhan! Sometimes I could use Old Orhan. Could save me some time and dollars.

• Save some money: And spend alot of it. Things I don't even need, like an iTouch (I had to talk myself out of an iPhone, the iTouch was the compromise). Some new clothes. And buy everybody birthday and Christmas presents. Though I could do with a new bed first!

Miss Understood

My morning routine is quite simple; first I wake up to a painfully solid part of me attempting to poke through the bed, next I turn my alarm off before it goes off (can't remember the last time I actually woke up to it) and hop out of bed. I then clothe myself while my laptop boots up. After checking my emails I swallow some supplements, pack my laptop into my backpack and sit down for a few minutes in absolute silence. I take a moment to evaluate how I'm feeling and what the day may bring according to my mood. As I walk out of my building I slip a beanie onto my head and walk toward the train station, which is about 15 minutes away. I could take my car but a) I'm not allowed to drive for another 3 weeks and b) I live on a highway and would spend most of my morning just trying to get through it, so the train is just perfect since my workplace is only 2 stations away. After another 15 minute walk I'm at work, where I pull in the box of mail and the two crates of milk - its either I do it or the eight month pregnant receptionist. I use my ID card to swipe my way further into the building and there I set myself up for a brief and light breakfast. There I sip at my morning coffee and smear smooth peanut butter across a few healthy crackers. While I do this over and over again I make an effort to read the women's magazines provided and this is where I recently discovered that some women wear upwards of $2000 worth of casual clothing on a day-to-day basis. Although most commonly wear reasonably priced attire it was a particular article that I found simply alarming; women were being stopped on the street by fashion designers and asked how much they thought they were wearing and as it turned out women from all walks of life wrapped themselves in clothing worth more than all of my clothes and boy toys combined. Right now I'm wearing about two hundred dollars worth of materials. In order to keep up with some of these ladies I would have to wear three of my most expensive pairs of shoes, every one of my jeans, shirts, jackets and jumpers and even if managed to carry my Xbox 360, laptop, mobile phone and iTouch that I'm about to purchase I would still come off a little short. This is like finding out my best mate has a bigger penis than me all over again. Not cool!

Vertically Speaking

The thing I like most about the British TV show Top Gear is that in manages to blend humour with a world of engineering, a bizarre sense of curiosity and a keen desire for exploration. That pretty much sums me up. I wasn't always this way. As a teenager stepping out of my comfort zone had become as rare as me leaving the house at all after years of on again, off again drug addiction, so when it was suggested that I go deep into the once impenetrable mountain range that separates the great city of Sydney from the rest of the state I was surprised to have not hesitated for a second to set off as soon as possible. It didn't take very long for me to face the facts; I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. It took about two hours to lose the beaten track as we descended further into the very wide, very green yet very cramp unforgiving landscape. Although I understood the concept of a mountain side being vertically challenged I did not expect to so suddenly reach a point of no return and that was about the time we all roped up and dipped ourselves into the cold, jagged canyon opening. The water washing onto the rocks around us as we attempted to climb down further carried enough natural garbage to make almost every surface slippery and dangerous. Before we began to climb out of the wild we all sat to eat and it was there that I realised how redundant complaining is, especially if you never intend to do something about it. Up until that point I used the victim card as an excuse to have a cry about anything and everything. Just thought I'd share that with you for no reason in particular.

Observe & Report

Fun fact; as a by-product of growing up in a oddly strict Christian environment I somehow lead myself to believe that masturbation was a way of releasing the demons from within. So I did it. Alot. This was only one of the retarded factors of self-influenced religion. Then I was educated as to the way of agnostics, the ultimate fence sitters. I haven't gotten off the white pickets since. At first I gave atheism a chance until I realised that I, along with most of the animal kingdom (and the entire universe, for that matter!) was more superior to an absolute belief of a random sort of oblivion. Speaking to a friend of nine years friend this afternoon during an unusual cup of coffee I finally realised why he needed the faith in the Christian God, even if it conflicted with his drug taking and adulterous ways. While I believe in a greater, more misunderstood being his belief is far more defined and hard to dismiss since faith is one of those things that lead to young men masturbating to feel that elation of bad thoughts from good ones; on a base level that can be justified, but it is mostly perverted. I have never had a real problem with religious people on an individual level since you can usually come to some sort of agreed disagreement, but those who openly oppose religion truly shit-me-to-tears. My friend this afternoon reminded me after an acquittance of his challenged his believes by attempting to explain that every religious leader in history had the same birth date. Or something. The basic laws and teachings of faith are far greater than anything a non-believer can create. Don't kill. Don't steal. Do good. Be good. Don't be a cunt. All of it documented over a series of major religions. A tiny mind is far too easily inspired by a faith of life beyond us. May whichever God bless those souls. And just so you know Scientologists aren't included in all of this, they're in a league of their own; I was breifly raised in a cult like environment as a teenager. I lost everyone of my childhood Spiderman comics because of it while my step-father got to keep his prized Prince collection and my mother her Salt & Pepper albums, which I eventually stole. What? Salt & Pepper wanted to talk about sex! How else was I meant to release the demons? Don't judge me!

No Country For Young Men

She was leaning against the chain link fence while I did my best to look as if I knew what I was doing; it was a late Wednesday afternoon and back in those days that meant I was inside the tennis courts trying to look busy in the name of physical education. Instantly I knew I would like this girl, it took all of five minutes to realise she was unlike any young woman I'd met before. Years later I would discover there was more to her than she would ever admit. The period in between the initial and final meeting we became the very best of friends. While my life began to spiral right out of control as did hers. It was a parallel constant that we hid from each other until it was too late. We made each other happy and when we spoke there was only us and that moment. Maybe if we'd been more open about our troubles from the very beginning things would've been different. Who knows. What I do know is that we lied to protect each other. It was a strange affair that pushed and pulled our hearts away from one another. We could never accept the deepening love that took two years to blossom and one night to ruin; with an emotional distance bridging a greater gap between our poisonous lives I made a brave yet foolish attempt to profess my love for her on a somewhat awkward date. That night on the beach-edge under an open and scattered-sparkling sky she told me with her eyes that she no longer felt safe in my company. Her heart and mind could no longer be ignored. The casual yet unsettled conversation that filled the time before her bus arrived to carry her away from my life forever burned a scar in my soul that to this day still remains - she needed a friend and was reaching out the best she knew how to. I refused to see it simply because I just wanted somebody to love. A young man who was in love with idea of being in love had no idea that it could be interpreted as emotional blackmail to someone who didn't quite know what love and happiness was. That last hug was the very thing that left me feeling so much more alone that it should have. I said goodnight but I should have pleaded for her to stay. I should've made a joke and reassured her that I would always be here. Instead I said goodnight and stepped into the darkness of the night. She later got herself caught up in a huge drug bust that tipped her into a suicidal depression. Looking back now I can see what those eyes were really telling me, she just didn't feel safe with anyone, not even in her own company.

Chase That Feeling

Tonight I did the smart thing and got everyone I work with somewhat drunk, as a result I found out that the company I work for, which makes every instrument and implant that can be used and installed inside a human body also makes beer bottle openers. So, a very fitting end to one of the most emotional weeks of my life. In other news, the twitch in my right eye that has evolved into some sort of facial spasm. And I realised this week what the source of that worry is; women. When I think of my sister, twitch! When I think of my mother, twitch! Ex-girlfriends, twitch! Boobs, twitch! Getting an exotic massage, twitch! All evening I've been fine and right now, right this second my face is going hog-wild. Back in November last year I made a recording a short time after the initial mild twitch began. I am not that person anymore. Well, sort of. I still don't know the difference between the word demanded and dicking:

Clarity

I was once told that life is what you make it.

Later I realised that there was more to such a statement.

That a bleeding heart is in fact a wound.

That open arms are there for comfort.

That conflict can breed positive change.

That you're never fully in control of all those voices.

That you're always ready to jump, even if you can't stand.

And that you can be right for all the wrong reasons.

Life is what others make it.

Chaos Theory

Intelligence isn't something you develop, you either have it or you don't. Winston Churchill once said "If you are going through hell, keep going." It is a quote that never made much sense to me since hell was the sort of place I was raised to believe involved alot of hot surfaces. By about lunchtime today I felt as if I was in some sort of personal hell with no clear way out. Winston Churchill was a man of many quotes, another was, "A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality." Not even an hour away from lunch and the tables had turned; the simple mistakes that I'd been hassled about, the things I'd missed, everything that had put me in what seemed like an inevitable course turned on its head once the very same things I'd been held responsible for was the very same thing I could hold against those who had been there for years. Not only did I get a chance to expose my workplace for the unorganised circus that it is by observing, evaluating and intelligently commenting on how a place that deals with thousands of products that are literally scattered around a small area without any labelling is "organised chaos" and an impenetrable way of life that has suddenly been brought to the front, by yours truly. Of course, there was an answer for every concern I raised but the unavoidable thing that could not be explained was the series of simple mistakes that were made over and over during the final four hours of my shift. And because I refused to submit to the torture of the role and instead embraced more responsibility I was able to see exactly what they'd been hiding from me; that while they ran to the higher up's about the mistakes I was making the more serious problems were being masked by a series of cover ups. By the end of the shift I was telling the two main antagonists to "have a cry". When you're in hell, keep going? Fuck that, I'd rather light a fire from under it all and see what comes to the surface. Suffice to say, I feel better now. I'm not in the clear, but at least I can see it all so clearly now.

All Too Familiar

This isn't exactly the first I've felt as if I've been set up to fail, in fact this isn't even the second or third time. Before I take a brief trip down memory lane I do have to ask, is it just me or is the statement, "you don't have to be intelligent to do this job, you either have it or you don't" completely illogical? As far as I'm concerned a person can indeed be overqualified for a position but certainly not so smart that they can't do a simple task. This circus I've been thrown into is making less and less sense by the day, but I'm fighting working as hard as possible to avoid the inevitable. And trust me, I know how close I am to falling through this thin ice I'm suddenly standing on since I've been here before. Some years ago I was employed for a company which dealt with shop fittings and just as it is with my current job there were thousands of products to deal with. Without any training I was put inside their one-man warehouse and told to make it more efficient. A few weeks later I was fired for being "too efficient". What in the fuck! And I feel I'm having to put up with this sort of mayhem again after being told that intelligence isn't important in a role that deals with medical equipment. It is just very strange and while I will be heart broken if I don't make it past my probationary period I will be at least familiar with the feeling of being made to feel like an outcast by a group of people who are willing to struggle to the bitter end with the idea of change. I know my focus has been elsewhere and not completely on the job but my attention has exactly been nurtured. I don't know. Maybe it is just me after all. I should just cut the middle man out and run away with the circus. Or is it a travelling crocodile park here in Australia?

Sober

The place is a mess and I've been thrown into the deep end with absolutely no formal training. This is one of the things the manager who yelled at me today forgot to consider. And while I know I've been making mistakes I've been doing alot of good, hard work that isn't being appreciated at all. In fact, everytime I seem to initiate something it gets brushed aside almost immediately by those I work alongside. But to be threatened with a loss of my job so rudely over a simple mistake is just harsh considering I'm not the only person making mistakes and that my mistakes only make up for about 1% of my workload. It was downright demoralising. And it isn't like I can just turn to those around me; one of them is a condescending jerk who would rather make fun of me while neglecting to help, another simply takes over the job instead of assisting, one is a lazy and messy and the line manager is either too busy to help or "will deal with it later." So, to have the manager that all of these people are reporting to in regards to my performance yell at and threaten to fire me was just so brutal. We deal with thousands of products that are sent to and returned from hundreds of hospitals, give me a fucking break! And atop of all this the mess that I've walked into isn't being taken nearly as serious as it should be. It's just a circus of spare parts, implants and instruments. So, excuse me while I teach myself what the fuck to do! Geezus. This all sucks mostly because the company is a great and so is the pay but I don't feel I am going to last after today's response to my very important question, when do I get some training? "What training?" Oh, my.

And Justice For All

Here's the thing, I'm not ten minutes into Rambo and already I'm impressed; the body count is more than the film I watched previous to this. And not only are people dieing, they're exploding. Its a beautiful thing. And to hear John Rambo say "fuck the world!" with his back turned to a Christian mission is just priceless. Oh, and in the time of writing these few words another small group of people have been shot. Apparently the country of Burma is a war zone. Or something. I can already tell this is going to be a reluctant hero comes-of-age-by-destroying-an-army-of-bad-guys-with-his-oversized-bullet-shooting-erection kind of tale. Insert some alot of dead children for the hardcore killing-is-wrong crowd and you got yourself a mans action comedy. That's right ladies, men find action as humorous as they do serious. The ones who don't at least laugh on the inside at the overture of ultra violence are simply retarded and possibly have a prescription drug problem. Okay, so they're going down the river now. I must've missed the point where Rambo went from "fuck that shit, you're on your own" to "lols, Burmese pirates". The cinematography is actually quite stunning. So is the lighting. Uh-oh, they've been spotted. They're stepping on board. Oh, my. Somebody is about to get their shit split. Ugh, subtitles. Stallone can barely speak English and now they got him speaking Burmese? Oh, yes! Look at that head explode. And there is still another hour of this. This movie better deliver boobs. Just saying, is all.

Daddy Delicious: Episode Six

This is by far the best clip I've ever produced; its unexpectedly mesmerising, especially when you're as hungry as I am right now - I've yet to eat it because it should be left to toast in then oven for a little while after; if you don't want to wait, cook the eggy bread a little longer, although it does come together after a warm session in the oven. A thousand apologies for those who can not see it, though if it is any consolation; I've used big thick slices of multi grain bread which I've dipped in a mixture of egg and milk. I've then fried some bacon. Cooked the scrambled egg left over from the dip. Sliced some cheddar cheese. And put it altogether with a generous layer of BBQ sauce. Elvis would be proud, this much I'm sure of.

Relapse

My sister called me last night looking for a favour.

It was the first time we'd spoke in months.

Her favour was a disguised attempt to con me.

I saw right through it.

My heart broke.

Because she sounds just like our mother when she is disappointed.

Sorry Mom

In his temporary absence from the world wide internets and because I know he'd want me to tell you, today Woozie saw his mothers vagina. There are no words to describe the amount of sympathy I have for the poor young gay black man (if only he was a Jew; would be quite an epic trifecta). This was on the heels of me informing him that the company I work for handed me a case of expensive beer today for no real reason. Of the two of us I was clearly having a better day. But this did get me thinking about the muff and scruff women carry around with them. Now, before I go ahead and shot myself in the penis you need to understand that I do love the female form. Even a gay man like Woozie can understand that sometimes a woman is so Goddamn hot you'd push your mother into the sun just smell her hair. Smooth legs, win. Even legs with a slight prickly feel to it. Breasts in all shapes and sizes. Asses with or without dimples. Soft hands, cheeks and lips. The touches of make up or even that disheveled appearance that follows a good nights sleep. Everything about a woman is beautiful. Everything but a vagina. How can something that feels so good look so terrible? Sometimes looking like a cheeseburger, other times looking like a salad sandwich with too much lettuce. This point of view has been further fuelled by the website Guess Her Muff where the "noone will see it" collection of pictures of ex-girlfriends end up. And while I don't support the cowardice of those posting these pictures I am so ever thankful to now understand that every woman is different and those you think are good looking without clothes are pretty much guaranteed to scare a penis into a submissive shrivel. Personality is paramount, but having to deal with a yeast infected vagina is destined to ruin a young man with a sex drive like mine. True story! Think about it. Enough said.

Therefore I Am

Libby over at Pure Madness tagged me with this pleasant meme. So here goes - I'm all about...

• Food that has cheese melted on it.

• Logical explanations to illogical situations.

• The Office, 30 Rock and a bottle of my favourite wine.

• Guns, even though I've never fired one.

• Being a very tolerant friend.

• The colour blue; everything can look good in blue.

• Giving strangers directions.

• Having a conversation with a child.

• Analysing the human condition and body language.

• Boobs.

• Working with my hands.

• Reading my own writing.

• Making people sincerely smile.

• Creeping slowly through back streets in my car.

• Doing something romantic.

• Making lists.

• Challenging the demons within.

• Watermelon.

• Anything to do with photography.

• You.

I tag everyone who has a blog and comments on this post.

Year One

If you think good and hard about it hypocrisy can actually make sense... if you're on drugs. Actually, hypocrisy itself has a field day with drug addicts on a regular basis as they attempt to reason with themselves as to how and why they need to sustain an addiction. War is the only other thing that can be hypocritically reasoned with; peace through war. War for peace. These things don't add up. The day I began to accept hypocrisy as a slightly eschewed science was the day I inhaled tobacco for the the very first time. Alcohol, weed and ecstasy soon followed. Up until that point I was aggressively against drug use; I'd been introduced to an environment of substance abuse at a very early age and quickly realised that whatever was doing this to people was not good. By the time I arrived at that fateful day I'd been convinced that although alcohol and tobacco, as destructive as they are, were perfectly acceptable mediums in which people could chose to blow off some steam. The funny thing about this is that I don't have an addictive personality and the year that followed the first cigarette puff was much like enduring a boring relationship that had terrible and often painful sex. Fresh out of home and school, not even fifteen and here I was swallowing happy pills, inhaling weed smoke and drinking excessive amounts of alcohol. As far as I was concerned I was immune to the predictable path of drug abuse. When they say "admitting you have a problem is the first step" they don't seem to tell you just how many more steps will follow.

And maybe if I just drink half I'll be half buzzed for half of the time.
Who's that mastermind behind that little line?
With that kind of rational I got half a mind to have another half of glass of wine.

- Deja Vu

Your War Face

It has been four years now since I moved into this apartment. This place was the last on the list I'd set out to inspect and the one who had he least amount of interest from the public. From the moment I stepped in I found it perfect. Last weekend my housemate and I re-signed our lease and agreed to stay another year. This was about the time I decided to finally grow up and move all the stuff that didn't belong inside my bedroom out of it. And so today I pulled apart the cheap ass desk I'd put together the day I moved in and threw away the broken chair that had literally launched me so many times. I decommissioned my PC and dumped my monitor in the bin. I now sit here in the second part of my spacious L shaped lounge room (where my gym equipment stood for most of four years) at my laptop. Looking across the hall at my room and seeing only my lonely bed and the built cupboards I see four years of history just gone. It took most of an hour to turn it back to the room I initially moved into. This stir of emotions I'm feeling now that everything is quite literally different is both comforting and shallow. I really have no idea what the future will bring and looking into my bare room I do know that I can atleast I bring home a new set of curtains, bed spreads and some furniture. Oh, and a new bed; a double sized futon that is actually a fold up lounge is not sexy. Not even slightly. So, with no PC in my room that means my internet use with be reduced dramatically and there will no PC gaming or porn. And I'm okay with that, for now. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Bagpipes

'Having great powe, influence or physical strength'

~ p _ _ e r _ u l ~

'To destroy, subdue, or suppress utterly'

~ c r _ s _ _ d ~

A room in a private establishment where people can sit and talk and relax'

~ p a r _ _ _ r ~

'Usually refers to a temperature scale'

~ f a _ r _ n h _ _ t ~

'Causing or tending to cause sliding'

~ s _ _ p p _ _ y ~

'An expression of agreement'

~ a _ r _ g h _ ~

'In any way or manner whatever'

~ a _ y _ a y ~

'To form foam or froth at the top'

~ c r _ a _ ~

Act To Follow

This is a throw back to a style of writing I had before I discovered reading. It is a letter to an old friend.

A path unheeded, a heart unbroken, this is just another path you're walking. With the focus on you, its with force that I leap out of my shoes and into yours, by chance we share the same repairable flaws. And just like that you were on my shoulders, but that joyride is no longer. Because of your fears you're so much weaker. A stranger to yourself. You were a part of yesterday, just festering over a life that brings pain and hate, hate and strain, strain and fate, fate and loss. But hey, times have rolled away; the longest part of this feeling is letting go, theres no concealing the pain you're experiencing. Just let it go. Move along. Or just dance to your least favourite song. Fool yourself. Fool your friends. Lead a life that doesn't lend a helping hand where its needed most. Your arms folded, your legs crossed. Eventually you accept your uneven display of grace, your badge of honour, all to become a distant owner of your own heart. Let me see you shine, express some sign of life. A glimpse of hope. Just clench that feeling. Trace it back to the track of yesteryear. Yes you fear the change it brings, though beckon in that calling card. That signature move. Although I'm done with us, don't be done with you.

Slow Burn

Sitting here on a Wednesday afternoon and I've only just realised that it isn't Tuesday. Woah! Did I lose a day or somehow ignore all twenty four hours of it? While walking around in a semi-reflective daze for the past few weeks I have noticed just how much everything has changed since this time last year. For one, I have a car now and though I've had my license taken away from me twice since I got it I have a very decent first car. Something I'm actually proud of. All my gym equipment has been packed up and stored (or thrown) away. I'm cooking regularly. Blogging differently. I'm tattooed. I've gone from a minimum wage go-nowhere job in retail to being paid almost double to work in the medical sector. And the women; my God am I happy I didn't settle with the three initial contenders that were all bat-shit crazy in their own charming ways. The fourth one I did end up investing in became my best friend; single handedly and from a distance she managed to teach me that something beautiful can also be flawed. Some friends have come and gone, others I can't seem to get rid of; pity and concern is not a sound basis for any relationship, it the reason I no longer care about any one of my family members - no one should ever feel obligated to help someone who either doesn't want to be helped or refuses to help themselves. So, a year has passed and everything has changed. Thankfully this self-reflective daze has left me feeling a great deal of indifference towards things I unnecessarily cared about before. One of those things was the cliche fear that I would end up like my parents, who are glorious failures at life. Somehow I dodged that bullet. I'd love to say Jesus helped but we both know it was the porn, which is another one of those things I've long lost interest in. Unless of course it involves a "mid-air" blow job and terrible CGI.

Turning Heads

Do me a favour and finish this sentence; love is ______, because ______. Here is my theory; we need a new word for love because I feel it is one of the most exhausted words in history. It is right up there with fuck. Since there is so much to love, and without a clear definition of what it is, I feel we should either drop the word altogether or come up with something more appealing. Something along the lines of snails. Simple and to the point. The current idea of love is an object of affection dedicated to someone or something. That is marketable. We need a word for it that voids a need to associate such a broad and easily marketable complex series of feelings. And outside of France anything to do with snails is a hard sell. Love is trouble, because you're not meant to feel it all the time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to create some sort of subtext or hidden message here; I feel very loved by those around me and oceans away from me, its just that I believe we have indulged far too heavily in the idea of snails. How about a period of acceptable apathy? Is one who feels apathy all the time apathetic? I don't know. What I do know is that when I look at those who chase that feeling their whole lives they tend to forget that it isn't something you can feel all the time. We're meant to feel lonely from time to time, even a little hurt. I believe this may be a reason why there are so many of us. we don't want to be alone JUST THAT MUCH! Six billion times over. And hey, do you seriously remember the first time you said love? No, you don't. I bet you remember the last time you sat alone, doing your thing and enjoying your own company? Snail yourself, you're beautiful.

Hey You

Do you ever feel like your personality has gone a little sterile? Almost stale but not quite absolute. I feel as if I'm dealing with an objective persona who isn't quite something and isn't quite anything. I actually have troubles maintaining a personal conversation with people if the focus somehow is placed on my own interests, hobbies, doings and takings. At one point I used to be Orhan the Party Boy, the Bad Influence, the Thief, the Black Sheep, the Sex Fiend and occasionally Ormootles. Now, I don't feel as if I'm doing anything that properly defines and outlines my personality. I don't have anything in common with those who have grown close to me over the years because I've spent so long adapting to them that I've never really stood out as someone uniquely different to them. It is only recently that I've come out of a shell and refused to be anyone but myself, not matter how flawed. I bring all this up because I don't know if I work with strange people or if it is just my personality and how sterile it might be because I am so cynical by a jaded history of social interaction. Don't get me wrong, I do try to get along with people I don't know but I'm done adapting to the odd features of a acquaintance or work colleague. Sometimes I wish work wasn't as social as it often needs to be. Or maybe its just all the years I spent in retail that has my instincts in a twist? Either way, the pay is very good and I'm always busy. Win, win.

Daddy Delicious: Episode Five

So, what have we learned today? Well, its always best to test a recipe before you actually prepare to do it in front of a camera. Another thing to be aware of is that having just one less simple ingredient can fuck everything up. I forgot the thyme. There is never enough thyme. Don't you worry though, it ended up being very tasty. But there was far too much fresh produce I didn't use because my baking dish was too small. I do have another dish but it is too big for the oven. Anyways, this was meant to be a side dish but because it took so long to put together it ended up being the main accompanied by three delightfully grilled Spanish sausages. A neat compact and layered collection of half boiled, thinly sliced common brushed and red sweet potatoes. Fried leek, zucchini and garlic. Cooking cream, shredded Parmesan cheese and parsley (and thyme). All topped with shredded Cheddar cheese. What was meant to be the main to this side dish will be the subject of the next episode of Daddy Delicious. However, this particular episode is in response to Suki's request. It is by no means a light dish but it can be with any reduced fat alternatives. It did take me over an hour but it wont take so long the next time since it is actually a very simple dish to cook up. The chicken and pig dish will be next; funny thing was that I don't have any chicken specific cook books in my collection. So I pulled out the Mediterranean book and was greeted with a great recipe, which I will also love cooking for the very first time. Anyone else have these kinds of teething issues before after never having cooked a particular dish before?

Poker Face

Early today a man in the southern capital city of Melbourne was bitten by a brown snake while shopping in a major shopping outlet. Or so was the impression I was given by a local commercial radio station. After doing a little digging of my own I found out that the man was actually outside of the shop and most importantly reaching into a bin at the time this happened. I don't know about you but I feel God's Will has been done at this point. Not only is it incredibly rare to be bitten by a snake in an Australian city... you are in an Australian city! Who cares how rare it is, sharks should still scare you regardless of whether you're on a local train or bus. Shit, even I've avoided being bitten by the deadliest snake in the country, which just happened to be crossing the road I was riding my push-bike on. I've had spiders pop out of my pockets. I've almost been chased off a waterfall by a native lizard that looked like a dinosaur. I've been attacked by over protective ducks. I've had a kangaroo the size of a telephone box growl at me for trying to feed it; only in Australia would an animal snub (and quite easily kill) you for trying to feed it. I'm not trying to discourage you from ever visiting this vast and beautiful island just that you should probably pack a few layers of Kevlar. Avoid contact with any kind of animal unless somebody in khaki shorts is standing nearby. And be sure to know that the uglier it looks the more deadly it is. This isn't Africa, this is what they rejected and isolated for their own saftey.

All Those Roads

For months my body has fought off all the common diseases I've been surrounded by and just the other day it finally gave in and for a few moments I was suddenly overcome with nausea and a violent fever. Whether it was simply coincidence or an immune system that has a conscience I somehow avoided contracting any illness from my current house and former work mate who both had very severe throat infections, both of whom I spent most of my days and nights with. This was the period in which I attempted to be and stay as healthy as possible while I endured the interview and selection for the job I was ultimately offered. Now, sitting here in the conference style lunch room with its combined kitchen, meeting space, air-hockey table and vending machines I feel as if my body did in fact wait until I felt a little more secure with the job before it let down its guard, prompting me to leave early during one of my shifts, which I felt incredibly guilty doing because the people I work with are just as sick though were still giving their best. While they're not the most excitable bunch of guys to work with they are hard working and I sure did feel better once I found out the manager was off sick. I left work because I felt dizzy and sick in the stomach, though normally I just work through simple illness since I don't fall ill very often. This got me thinking about the economic climate and the fear everyone seems to have about losing their job if they do take some personal time off or a sick day. I guess it all comes down to value; I have this job now because I was told that I would not be made redundant (because I provided "good value") but could be at any time by my former employer. A mixed message I took as an excuse to confidently used sick days to designate time for the interviews that lead me to this point.

Shogun

The strangest thing happened the other night; someone was standing a few paces from my front porch letting off a handgun into the air. This is strange for a number of reasons, the most obvious being that handguns are incredibly rare items for people in Australia to be carrying. Even more rare is randomly shooting one at nothing in particular. Another thing that makes it so strange is that I didn't fully register what was happening until the next day when I was told someone had been shot in my area the night prior, I simply shut my door and sat back down to continue watching TV. This got me thinking about how nonchalant I've become about firearms due a morbid history I have with them. Not only have I almost been shot twice (once by a drunk neighbour and once by the police) but I have unintentionally had people on various occasions think I've actual shot a gun at them. I've also seen a police detective dangerously use his handgun in the middle of a fucking highway! For those of you who are keeping score firearm violence in this country is very minor as far as statistics are concerned but is often turned into a major issue in the media when it does actually occur, which is bizarre considering none of the incidents I've been a part of has made the news. One of those incidents involving only me, a large empty sports bag, a replica pistol that shot caps and pockets literally packed tight with rolls of bank notes. Looking back on that day now I can see why I did get away with it, the foolish detective that would later dangerously shot off his gun in the middle of the motorway was looking for me to break the law in a more punishable way; shooting a replica gun from a slow moving passing train at people standing on the platforms wasn't the big kind of fish they were looking to catch; my alledged fraudulent credit card spree was that bigger fish they would later bank on. And yes, that got more than enough media coverage.

Probably Best

If he had listened to any one of my initial suggestions he would've avoided being pinched by the police on the very same road I'd been caught just six weeks ago. An old friend who I've known now for almost nine years obviously has troubles listening to me even after the amount of mistakes I've made that he knows of, one of them being my more recent blunder of driving without a fully qualified licence. The very same offence he would ultimately be booked for. Two nights ago Billy stopped by my home to visit and insisted we go for a drive to get him some weed. To stop him from pestering me any further I agreed to join him. First I suggested we take the back streets, he chose the highway and main roads. Second I suggested he get money out from the nearest ATM, he waited till he could find a bright-lit pub with a one way drive-through. Thirdly I suggested he not reverse out of said drive-through and into oncoming traffic, to save thirty minutes he chose to ignore all of that and his reward for such defiance? Attracting the attention of a police cruiser who just happened to be sitting on the highway I'd suggested he avoid. So, when the police did catch up with him I couldn't help but laugh. After being asked to step out of the car they soon realised that I was probably best ignored; I'm sure it had something to do with the fact that I was in my fluffy blue pimp bath robe and cotton tracksuit pants and flip flops with socks on. Oh, and I just couldn't keep a straight face. Playfully cussing aloud over the irony and predictability to the officers I had to remind Billy, who was about to have his license suspension lifted from two to seven years and marked as a habitual offender, that he in fact did save himself 30 minutes. At least.

Daddy Delicious: Episode Four

This is the by product of everyday Australian living; a very evident British influence with a touch of central Europe and taste of rustic Australian living. Roasted sweet potato, full jacket desiree potato salad dressed with mayonnaise lemon juice, dill, red onion olive oil and salt with a side portion of grilled Spanish sausages, mushrooms and onions, all caramelised in 'Smokey BBQ Sauce'. What say you?

Good Value

It is simple insanity to not be fully aware of how fast and sudden we can mature and realise things that we never thought possible. Self awareness is the very first thing we were handed, a somewhat birth defect. We spend the rest of our lives heading down so many paths; perception, realisation, logic, exploration, rationale, submission, ignorance, divine intervention, inner peace, control and loss. Epiphany's hitting us at the most unexpected moments and hours of our days. Sometimes before the fact; helping you avoid trouble or simply giving you alternate options. Sometimes it is after the fact, hindsight being the greatest joke ever told. I've hid it well for the last two weeks but up until earlier this evening I have been incredibly sad. This is strange for a few reasons, the most obvious one being that I am actually incredibly happy at the same time. Things are great. In fact, life is just perfect. But for reasons I'd rather not discuss I have been depressed by my sudden realisation of powerlessness toward so very many aspects of my volatile life. My most important epiphany came this evening in the form of exclusive self awareness that simply reassured me from the former insecurities I've endured throughout my twenty six years. Letting go of wanting all possible control frees the mind. I just want to be a part in all of this. Nothing more, nothing less. This life is merely the hangover of a bad dream, and I'm finally okay with that.

Blog Trawling

If you were to scroll down this page a little, below the list of my very favourite bloggers and time-killing links you will see a list of about fifty five links entitled The Others. They are the pending-further-study group. All of those in my comparatively small Blogosphere list have been in the pending approval list at some point. My people, those I've known in the blogging world for quite some time come from all walks of life; there is the psychiatrist mother of two from New York state, the young black gay college student from Ohio (if only he was Jewish!), the quiet but internally violent 10-year-project specialist from Malaysia, the corporate local Sydney girl who delves in literary erotica, the part time hair obsessed University hero from India and the young man who eats better than I ever will from England. Some of you are here in my city or on the other side of the country, others are in parts of the United States, Europe and Asia. It is amazing that we have parallel constants through the social fabric of the internet. For the very few whom I've known since I began The Death of Retail Price I can happily admit that I found you through the Random Blog button. And while its all good and true there has been a semi-secret as to how I discovered the rest of you over the last twelve months - through my very own profile. Do you see all those blue words in the screen shot above? When I click on any one of them it comes up with recently updated blogger profiles to match. By clicking on 'Sydney' or 'Australia' I found every one of the local bloggers I have on my Blogsphere and The Others list. It is because of one of those keywords in my profile that I found the woman who now has my heart, but that is a story for another time. Until then, just click on anyones name in a comment box and take a good look at their profile... and don't be afraid to click and see how deep the tunnel of crazy goes.

Shop To Drop

It may be hard to believe for some but I don't often smile. In fact, I smile very little and because of this people always assume I'm sad, mad or depressed. No, motherfucker! I just don't feel like smiling! Shit. In an attempt to combat this misconception I've taken to forcing what I thought was a light smirk, this I noticed wasn't the best move after I caught a reflection of myself doing it earlier today; I look like I'm constipated. Confused. Almost frightened. It was as if I'd been caught walking into a sex shop. Speaking of which, on my way home this evening I considered stopping by the local sex shop to see what was available in the way of toys for men. Before you go jumping to conclusions it should be known that I am a handsome and (somewhat) intelligent young man who is in a relationship, I just happen to be curious and open enough to discuss sex toys specifically tailored for male needs. Until recently I thought a butt plug and a blow up doll was the best a man could expect, I was wrong. There are so many things to stick my penis into now it actually scares me. Things that vibrate, things that are ribbed, things that are tight, things that look like sheep. It is quite an impressive though threatening selection. However, tonight was not my night and I continued on home without stopping to shop. But it does remind me of a time during my early years of sexually discovery wherein I did attempt to have sex with a blow up doll that wasn't made for sex. It was a prop doll with no holes. I didn't know there was a difference at the time. I dry humped it's partially inflated leg on my fathers bed. Once. That was my first and last experience with a "sex toy". Got a whole more fun out of throwing it onto the road and watching it get run over by a car - they didn't even slow down.

Margaritaville

Judging people by their vices, I find, is the best way to judge their strengths and weaknesses. In fact, it is a great way of telling how they are bound to act around yourself and others, especially if their particular vice is involved - a recovering alcoholic at a party where the booze is flowing is a perfect example. A kleptomaniac around anything is another. Throughout my own life I've thankfully had very few things that have brang my strength and will power into question; it all pretty much boils down to love and marijuana. I'm a sucker for both. And though I've said no to them many, many times it takes a moment of vulnerability to fall for either at a moments notice. Thankfully I'm placing all my chances on love at the moment since I'm sure the pay off and reward is so much better. In the meantime, it is hard to see those around me with other vices that make them crumble at any given moment; gambling, girls, cigarettes and even video games. For the most part having a vice is a good thing; I'd like to think I will grow an addiction to gardening when I'm older. Something of an obsession, please. And no, it has nothing to do with cultivating marijuana, that just happens to be a comedic coincidence. I'd also like to think my vices will turn me from obsessing over wanting to be loved and wanting to love so much to just being happy within the happiness of others, whether love is involved or not. There is a line from a song that I heard recently that goes 'I'll be just fine pretending I'm not'. That pretty much sums my relationship with love and weed; acting like I can't live without them but knowing very well that I'm just fine without either. Thankfully I'm in love with a whole lot of people, all of whom are worth every moment I have to wait see that they love me back. It would be so much easier if my vice involved whores and booze. Seriously.

Daddy Delicious: Episode Three

1kg/2lbs of ground beef, 500g/1lb of Spanish susage, 500g/1lb trimmed bacon, onion, local mushrooms, Turkish grown sun dried tomatos, pitted Kalamata olives, tomato puree, sauce base and of course, chilli. And lots of it.

Lord & Saviour

She wanted to introduce me to God, I wanted to introduce her to my penis. Oh, Rebecca how did I ever forget about you? A girl I have never mentioned to anyone ever. She was in the background of my life for a very long time, a friendship I maintained purely through email even though I knew her in person. This was a time when the the true social aspect of the Internet was about to peak, pre-Facebook/MySpace/Twitter. She was a young woman I met during my first breeze through college. A moderately intelligent pretty little thing who was making up for time away from school; she wanted to be a foot therapist. Her reason for being so absent from her earlier years of studies was due to a severe eating disorder which almost killed her. To my knowledge it was Jesus who saved her; a reborn Seventh Day Adventist who was trying as hard as she could to convert me to her faith, which was just as hard as my attempt to convert her from the righteous way to the unGodly path to my bedroom. The two of us came to a stalemate when she realised I was a pot smoking teenage boy with a irreversible sex drive. Why have I suddenly remembered Rebecca? During my routine blog trawling I came across the blog of a confused young local girl (@ wishtrash) who I believe has a warped idea of body image. Though I can't judge since I don't fully know or understand her. Just a memory, is all.

Not Sorry

'Of a pathological degree, usually refers to loss of orientation'

~ c _ _ f _ s _ o n ~

'The aggregate of past events'

~ h i _ _ o _ _ c a l ~

'The radioactive particles that settle to the ground after a nuclear explosion'

~ f _ _ _ _ u t ~

'To throw into confusion or disorder'

~ d i s _ _ _ _ _ _ n ~

'A woman's ornate headdress, fashionable around 1700'

~ c _ m m _ d _ ~

'Looking back on, contemplating, or directed to the past'

~ r _ t _ o _ p _ c _ i _ e ~

'An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense'

~ _ _ _ _ _ g y ~

What I Need

Some people say the cup is half empty, some say half full. I'm the kind of person who asks what's in the cup before answering only because I hope a half cup of piss is always half empty. I'm also not the kind of person to open an empty fridge and actually be surprised, but I do it every single day! And while I'm never without food I am obviously a man who lives the life of a teenager leaving home for the first time and living day by day. Then there is the other end of the spectrum which often leaves more waste and filth if left unmonitored by a middle-20's someone living over ten years away from the present date. The problem comes down to not being challenged; when I mentioned to the guy I live with that we needed a new fridge he questioned my reasons since our 20 year old fridge still did its job. A woman is bound to challenge that shit before I've even made it a topic. And I'm fine with that. There is are many exceptions to the rule but I've always believed women have an essential role in challenging the men around them. We don't need a new fridge, we have a new fridge... and some money to hire a hooker to watch us have sex. Tonight I made a simple (and terrible) meal out of food I was hoping was available to cook upon returning home after I not bothering to visit the markets; tofu, green curry paste (that I never wanted and accidentally bought), frozen vegetables, a few pieces of crumbed fish fingers and noodles. As a result my fridge is now only left with half a tub of butter, two jam jars from years ago, two bottles of every basic sauce under the sun, some with only a little in the bottom, a bottom drawer missing and a bottle of cordial with only a mouthful left. I'm ashamed for the both of us.

All Reason

Who is the worst person you have ever had to work or study alongside? My example just so happens to be a former, a man who was easily forgotten and never missed. He had such promise, such vigour and then over a short period of time he crashed and burned. In a brief timeline of events he not only managed to sink his own career, the morale of his staff and all expected budgets but he sank his marriage and tarnished his reputation and that of the woman he was having an affair with in his very own office space. At first it was comical, but then it got personal and everyone that gravitated near him felt the tension and disturbing vibe that surrounded him on a daily basis. He started the company a fresh sober face and ended up drunk and on drugs, which lead him to pass out in a elevator with the CEO of the company, though not before vomiting all over his shoes. The funny thing is that we were all surprised when he was fired; the company had tolerated so much of his shit that wee all expected it to be brushed under the carpet as if he were George W. Bush with an English accent. Instead, he and the memory of him faded away real quick and became a story people told each other at employee gatherings before it became too depressing to look back on. When I think back I do know that he had only the best intentions in mind for his team, it was just his execution that was terrible. Truly terrible! And having the equivalent of ten stiff drinks before every shift probably didn't help. Idiot.

Then There Was

This That Have Happened In The Last Seven Days:

~ Heard a French man I work with pronounce bankrupt as "bank root".
~ Endured high pitched whistling from said French man that goes on all day and I seem to be the only one who notices.
~ Spent almost six hours cleaning out my closest. Four trips to the bin later and I still got more to go.
~ Renewed my excitement in the art of wasting time via my new Xbox 360.
~ Was actually tired at night and have been sleeping deeply.
~ Had odd bouts of dajevu.
~ Watched an informative documentary on Zeppelin's. Those monsters of the sky were remarkable, but retarded too.
~ Received a sweet but suspicious text from an ex-girlfriend at the very moment I was thinking about my current.
~ Bought a bottle of white rum. And tasted Cognac for the very first time.
~ Remembered why I don't like early morning train rides; school children and yuppies.
~ Paid $12 for a lunch that was worth $9 and was too oily to enjoy.
~ Saw the new Star Trek movie and loved it.
~ Learned that I will get 10% on top of my annual income if I meet my KPI (Key Performance Index).
~ Had my holiday payout from my former job taxed at a rate of 35.5%. Was the .5% really necessary?
~ Watched far too much Gordon Ramsay related television.
~ Found out I will soon get to watch live surgery.
~ Blog trawled for the first time in a very long time. So many crazy unique people out there!
~ Noticed that a woman's virginity can be bought for a mere twenty thousand dollars.
~ Felt incredibly nostalgic; looking back on all the embarrassing moments in my life.
~ Have been happy and sad with a dash of confusion and hope.

The Window

All week I have been feeling oddly comfortable within my new shell. Normally change is not easy no matter how inevitable it is but this time around I am happy in the knowledge that I have absolutely no idea what the future will bring and that I have only this moment and control of the next few moments that follow, everything beyond that is beyond me. And has been for a while now. So, after the first week with my new job I feel somewhat elated and incredibly relieved to have made the decision to leave the world of retail, a feeling that was confirmed late this afternoon when I visited my old workplace and was told I looked happy and relaxed. In over four years of retail I can't recall anyone actually saying that about me and meaning it. For years I've looked like a half rotten bag of cocks and now, well, I actually feel the difference in perspective. This week has been remarkably refreshing in that I have worked more in five days and about forty hours than I have in the last year with my former employer, and I fucking love it! Not only is my position with the company an important and vital role to the medical industry but it is a great company to work for, even if it does have a very different American way of doing business; a truly ethical organisation that provides a number of important services to people who need it the most. Ha! Go figure, I'm actually proud of my job. In the history-of-ever did I never expect to say that. And mean it. It is a beautiful yet perfectly flawed life. For the first time in a long time I am happy to be a part of it.

You're My Hero

For the first time in a very long time I am stoned. Very stoned. And a little maybe probably drunk; after three four double shots of rum and dry ginger ale you best believe I'm a little over the sober threshold. Music tastes better. Food sounds better. And a hot shower feels so bloody good that I couldn't help but be lost in it, and while deep in thought I figured back on the many homes I strolled through in my day-to-day business as a teenager. The late 90's was a whole world away from this digital era of ours, and at the time I had a social network which involved a great deal of people that always had room for me in their own homes. Apartments, houses, terraces - all with differing decor and themes, all the different smells and backstories. There was the backyard of an old friend who swallowed me whole when I accidently stepped into a septic tank, the time I passed out in the hallway of a friends home between the porch and the toliet after drinking a stupid amount of booze, the time I sang to a friend to make him feel comfortable after he'd drank too much and the many other times where I had gotten stoned, drunk and made some kind of impression on the environment, thus chagning it forever. It is a strange feeling looking back on something so specific, to think back on all the meals, the reasons for being there, the last few visits and the reason I no longer interact with that person. All I know is that I'm happy. But more on that later. For now I am stoned. Very stoned.

The Sound of White

'Something that can be figuratively or literally clear and see-through.'

~ t r _ _ s p _ r _ _ t ~

'It is 70% of the Earth's surface.'

~ l _ q _ _ d ~

'The collection, analysis, interpretation or explanation, and presentation of data.'

~ s _ a _ i s _ i c ~

'An image, or image point or region; the central perspective.'

~ f _ c _ s ~

'A single subject, class, digit, object, event or chemical.'

~ e _ e _ e _ t ~

'The measurement of vertical distance.'

~ h _ i _ h t ~

Daddy Delicious: Episode Two

Although I have never been one to embrace the world of seafood when cooking I certainly do try to dig into any meal containing some form of fish whether it is a simple deep fried corner shop fillet or an array of raw Japanese style sushi. Considering I live on an island and I am quite coastal by location cooking fish isn't completely foreign to myself and those around me however it is very common for people to shy away from it since it is always a delicate process that can be easily cock blocked by mistakes that can be easily rectified when cooking other things, such as red meat or chicken. Fish is alot like game animals in that it has very little fat and has to have that compensated with a quick cooking process or some sort of oil. Or if you're confident enough a stainless steel or bamboo tray and some steam should suffice. Either way, when seafood is cooked properly it rarely needs a side dish to be enjoyed. But we are civilised beings and so long as there are salads and roastable vegetables there will be glorious and wonderful sides for all. What say you?

Mirror, Mirror (Part Three)

In the words of Jack Johnson 'losing hope is easy.' And it is. In fact, almost anything negative is simple to initiate. Instead of attempting to diplomatically communicate a complex set of feelings and finding some sort of solution some people find arguing far more effective, even if it does cause more problems than it solves. In the words of Coldplay 'what if you should decide that you don't want me there by your side'. Eventually one party has to either give in to the negativity or stray away from it, and for as long as I can remember I've tolerated the negativity of others and to some extent absorbed it and made it my own. Thankfully I have recently realised that sometimes ignorance is bliss and that you can't change someone or even wait for them to change no matter how much you want them to or how much love you each claim to have. In the words of the Foo Fighters 'where you born to resist or be abused?' It took me quite a while to open my eyes to the fact that I was worth more than the bags of dicks I was being handed by fuck up after fuck up. Whether it was someone who claimed to be a friend or a lover I eventually accepted that someone was getting the best of me when they didn't deserve it. In the words of The Veronica's 'I got used to living without you and all those phone calls and dreaming about you'. We all move on at some point, till death do us part. It hurts to see some settle and others continue to tolerate what they can not understand or change. For some there is no compromise, for others such as myself there is always a choice. In the words of Jack Johnson 'hanging on is easy.'

Mirror, Mirror (Part Two)

The problem with literally cleaning out your closest is that you discover things that were best thrown away a long time ago; after almost six hours of cleaning yesterday I stumbled upon a few items that I'd forgotten all about for a good reason. One was the series of lists I mentioned in the last post and another was a page from a sixteen page unsent letter to an ex-girlfriend who vanished from my life when I didn't properly reciprocate the love she had for me, a love I was very much unaware of. As I recall this particular letter was written from a bed that was part an old dirty single mattress and part two couch cushions from a discarded lounge. The page from the letter which was barely legible made mention of a girl who I would later help into the world of prostitution. My innocence at the time was fairly obvious as I remark how I was trying to stop smoking weed though clearly unaware that only a year later I would be at my very worst as far as any consumable mind altering substance was concerned. Reflection is healthy even if it is sad and hard to accept. Not only is it hard to accept but its hard to imagine the path that lead from the day I wrote that letter to this very moment. The girl that letter was intended for eventually came back into my life, soon after I cowardly abandoned her without reason. This push and pull with women became a very real element in my life until a year ago when I stood up and said no more! And did the right thing by myself and took back a life I let slip away and into the hands of someone who claimed they loved me but had no idea what love was. I had become the best imatation of myself to satisfy someone else.

To be continued...

Mirror, Mirror (Part One)

Until recently I've forever wanted my friends to stay single so that they could remain available to me, whether sexually or socially. Selfish, I know but I certainly didn't mean for it to seem so terrible, it was just nice knowing I wasn't the only person who could feel comfort in another persons sense of loneliness. It made it hard to accept my friends once they found someone because I was so used to abandonment. It all leads back to my mother and her inability to love and be loved, hence her bouncing through relationships like it were some kind of free for all whorehouse. So, when it dawned on me that I did indeed find it hard to watch others find happiness I realised that it was much easier to be happy for them and hope only the best. And that I don't have to like their partners or the outlook of their future together but still support them the best I can from as near and far as I can.

Today I found the very thing that brought my selfish attitude to my own attention; a single A4 piece of paper with bullet point sentences all over it, back and front. It was a series of lists stating the healthy and destructive things about me that I carried into the horrible relationship I was enduring at the time. Personally, I think this it is a daunting thing to look back on considering how much I've changed as a person since writing it. Here are a few things from a list entitled Things Wrong With Me, keeping in mind this wasn't the most accurate self reflection but rather an influential piece to appease my partner at the time:

• Sensitive

• Pushy

• Speaks without thinking

• Becoming obsessive/possessive

• Hateful

• Rejective (quick to dismiss help)

• Not literal

• Not receptive to help

• Condescending

• Judgemental

• Assumptive

• Suspicious

• Expect too much too soon

To be continued...

Present Tense

Things That Have Happened In The Last 24 Hours:

• Had a surprisingly emotional exit from my very last work shift. If only they'd shown they cared sooner.

• Renewed the registration and insurance for a car I'm not allowed to drive for another two months.

• Said the words "I want a Gay Time" out loud in public, twice. Gay Time is an ice cream.

• Ate enough chilli curry to turn my insides out. It all tasted too good NOT to shovel down my gullet.

• Narrowly avoided having wine spilled on me when a friend misjudged the uneven table she was placing my glass on.

Drank a bottle of wine and half a dozen beers and passed out at 2am after hours of conversation.

• Woke up to a dogs paw clawing into my face. Later had said dogs paw crush my testicles.

• Found out that a friend wants to name her daughter Frankie. Couldn't quite grasp that one.

• After months of indecision I finally bought an Xbox 360. The better half gets her Playstation 3 when she moves in.

• Failed to see the new Star Trek movie due to a delayed hangover, which is making it difficult to think right now.

• Have been told more than once that the dirty beard I'm sporting looks good on me. It feels terrible.

• Slept in for the first time on a Saturday in over a year. It feels great to have my weekends back!

• Lunch consisted of chocolate chip cookies, coffee and left over pasta in a bread roll.

• Found out that my housemate was setup on a blind date that backfired. I knew something was wrong.

• Realised that I'm finally ready to grow up, start a career and hopefully a family. It only took 26 years.

Clinkers

I can still recall the very moment I saw this particular job advertised online. In fact, I was standing right here on my laptop during a slow afternoon in the stock reserve of my current job sulking over how under qualified I was for such a role. In an economic climate that saw very little jobs advertised I wasn't at all shocked to later find out that hundreds of people had applied for the position. During the first interview I was told this and I sunk real low within myself, thankfully it didn't show and I soldiered on. With the support of my better half and my own delightful charm I made it through to the second interview. Because I'd shown up early I had to wait in a reception area that was something out of the Matrix; high ceilings, large white tinted glass windows, a single stainless steel elevator and various doors that people kept popping in and out of. Sitting down with the human resources manager of this global giant was quite intimidating. He was rather emotionless and made it impossible to gauge any reactions to what I was saying, so I kept talking. And talking. And talking. I was talking so much I kept forgetting what the question was. Then out of nowhere he booked me in for a third interview, which would be by phone and would establish what sort of personality I had. Two days later I received that call and spoke with an American woman who sounded almost exactly like my better half (who as most of you know is also American), this made it all the more easy. She was laughing and breaking technique to comment on my answers. The next day I was asked to attend a fourth and final interview with the two line managers. I too had them laughing. They loved me. I don't know why but I was surprised. Very surprised.

That same day I was offered the job but this is where it got tricky; negotiating my expected salary in an economic climate such as this was not easy. They could've offered me the same money I'm getting now I would have taken the job because of the type of work it is but I had to play it smart and ask for what I thought I was worth. Their counter offer was about 10% more than I was asking. They certainly didn't have to offer it twice. So, after an incredibly exhaustive four weeks of anxiety and hope I was formally offered the job and received my new contract in writing. For the first time in my life I felt like I'm worth something more than the drop-kick I've been since I left home. Recently I realised something; when you're young you want success because you're taught that that is what life is about. When you're older you want success to make all the bad decisions worth it. I've had almost 15 years of what seemed like bad decisions. With this being my last day of retail work I can't help but feel elated that the death of retail price is finally upon me. And what exactly is this new role? Putting together custom tool kits out of thirty thousand different parts and pieces for hospitals all over the country for emergency and operational surgery. Oh, yes. I'm going to be busy.

Daddy Delicious: Episode One

This took far longer than expected though was well worth the effort in the end. While the salad and chicken fry were a little heavy on the liquids it tasted great! The lemon from the salad slipped into the chicken fry and added a perfect amount of sweetness. The spices used are a simple BBQ rub and the salad is an everyday tabbouleh mix that anyone can make with only the freshest ingredients. The baby cos lettuce was used in place of bread and rice as a way to reduce carbohydrates in the meal and I must say that it was just perfect, bread and rice would have standardised the meal whereas the lettuce really made it unique. Any of your thoughts are highly appreciated; more or less of this? I figured I could stick to the old style of still photograph or a couple of minutes of a full meal production. What say you?

Laugh It Up

Journalistic integrity has been a hot topic as of late. The most prevalent argument that has continued to surface and resurface again and again is that print media is no longer as popular and influential as it once was. And that investigative reporting has been replaced by sordid sports star stories and gossip involving an industry of celebrity living. In the year 2009 some people are actually surprised that print media and investigative journalism has taken a back seat to the equivalent of a hand job during a Ben Stiller movie. Well, I for one am not surprised to see the sullen looks of fat face reporters reporting on the history of reporting and here is why; the global economy is suffering horribly and has done for about nine years. It has been a slow death and now we're all standing at the wake dressed in black playing the blame game and I've yet to see one finger pointed at the left and right leaning media. These motherfuckers had their chance to stop George W. Bush from taking power back in the year 2000 and instead they actually handed him the highest order of the free world and only subtly reported his atrocities until it was too late. Trillions of dollars and countless lives later and the collective circle-jerk began to cry foul. These bastards had their chance to stop the invasion of Iraq and expose an administration that fucked everything. Everything? Everything! Online media has replaced print because nobody cares to spend money on opinion pieces that they can read for free. The integrity of investigative journalism has been compromised all on its own. In the words of Hunter S. Thompson; 'No sympathy for the devil; buy the ticket, take the ride.'

World of Words

'A technique of inserting and manipulating fine filiform needles into specific points on the body.'

~ _ c _ p u _ _ _ u _ _ ~

'Is the oxidation of a combustible material releasing heat and light.'

~ _ _ f _ _ n o ~

'Is the art of writing.'

~ c _ l l _ _ _ _p h _ ~

'It arises whenever two or more parties strive for a goal which cannot be shared.'

~ _ o m _ e _ _ _ _ o n ~

'A Greek word meaning; the practice of multiple marriage.'

~ p o _ _ _ _ m y ~

A legal concept, which refers to intrusion into another person's property.'

~ _ _ _ s _ a s s _ _ g ~

Is the industry and science of plant cultivation.'

~ _ o r _ i _ _ _ t u r _ ~

Your Whore Mouth

Should I be worried that I've never been set up on a blind date? Considering how hairy I've been all my life it would be nice to date someone who can't see just how hairy I really am or even know what an average penis looks like. When it comes to women I've noticed that love is blinding to the point where hair makes me look manly and an average penis is all that is ever needed. It is a beautiful thing. If I were hairless and about ten inches longer then I'd most probably be in and out of relationships like a fat kids face and a packet of M&M's. When it comes to men the promise of sex is blinding. I couldn't begin to tell you just how much it pains me to want sex all the time because all in all it just doesn't make sense. Women want to look young forever and men just want to get laid forever, two very impossible elements of an incredibly flawed existence; a cycle of unobtainable desire. While my heart currently lays with someone who is my sexual and intellectual equal it is a complete turd-on-the-dinner-table scenario when I reflect on ex-girlfriends and everything that made them the most terrible gamble I could have ever taken. And I know you're thinking back on a particular ex-lover right now and asking yourself where exactly your Goddamned mind was when you had yourself swept up into their tirade of bad manners and romantics that went along the lines of "if you love me you'll swallow."

Should I be worried that I've never been set up on a blind date? Considering the brand of crazy that is stamped on the hearts of people who have come from terrible relationships I feel quite fortunate to have never sat across from someone I don't know and wonder just how this person is going to fall down. I recall this one particular story a friend once shared that I've never been able to shake off; he dated this girl who he realised was emotionally damaged very early on in the relationship. Stupidly thinking this was a good thing so that things wouldn't get boring he continued to date her. Stupid men have this thing about insecure women, that they're easy to control - there is no fucking logic in that! Its like saying a car has better steering without brakes. Anyways, eventually things got a little too heavy for my friend. When the time came for him to break up with her he simply told her that he wasn't in love anymore. Not the smartest thing to tell a extremely fragile woman... next to a highway (living near a highway is more common than you think, I for one live on the busiest one in the country). So, naturally, after crying and begging for him to take her back she simply stepped out in front of a truck and was killed instantly. He best be sure he wasn't in love anymore because that would've had to been the worst bluff in history. As it turned out he was bluffing, he just wanted to give her a reality check. Oh, the irony.

Give Me Death

It's one of those things that appears to be a good idea at the time but often ends up being something you'd rather not see, I'm of course talking about pornography in 3D. Another thing that is best spoken about but never seen are games like World of Warcraft (for the uninitiated, its a game that literally consumes hundreds of hours of your life). While I've never actually played it I have come very close recently with a clone called Age of Conan: Hyborian Adventures wherein you can create a character who never has to wear clothes and still somehow manages to survive a battle with deadly spiders that rival even the best of what Australia can throw into your camp tent. Since reluctantly letting university take a back seat (it was just the wrong economic climate to be studying, unless I wanted to become a gigolo and we all know I'm too hairy for that) I've plunged back into the world of gaming with a resounding meh! What died inside of me to find playing games an active chore? It just feels like I'm actually exercising boredom, which is something I never thought was possible. Its akin to watching colourful paint dry, sure its pretty but it is still paint and you are watching it dry! I just can't get into gaming like I used to no matter how hard I try. And this is on the heels of wanting to spend many hundreds of dollars on a brand new console, which is fine since I have quite literally pissed away about 20 Nintendo Wii's, 10 Xbox 360's and about 4 Playstation 3's worth of money in the last twelve months. And all I can think of when I'm playing Age of Conan is that it is the equivalent of masturbating at work/school and for those of you who haven't ever done that before let me tell you this, its fun until you realise what you're actually doing; you are masturbating in a public area! Speaking of which, does anyone else feel this commercial is a terrible representation of safe sex:

Five Men, Five Children

If there is one thing strippers have taught me its that not caring about something often takes alot more energy than actually caring about it. And with the final days of my job ahead of me I can't help but wonder how I would be feeling if they hadn't threatened to make me redundant at the beginning of the year. As for the remaining tasks, well, I want to care but I just don't and I'm finding it a sheer struggle to drag my knuckles around this swallow moving boxes and giving half a shit about the idiot salespeople who can't seem to get a sale right. Ugh. Good riddance to that noise. You know, the best part about the year here with this company has not been the handful of girls that I've had lead me around by my wee-wee or the many amounts of minimum wage dollars I've pissed away but the fact that I haven't been on welfare. This has been my first full year since I discovered welfare that I haven't been on it. What an odd achievement. And now with me being shuffled into a hectic but well paid job I find that caring is alot easier than not caring. I'm going to be a great father and husband one day, that's if I don't kill the poor woman with sex, which is a common assumption about me and isn't far from the truth; I will love you till death do those legs part! Oh, yes.

The one thing I've discovered in the last twelve months is that relationships with anyone, whether it be professional, sexual or based on some sort of friendship are as delicate as ultra sensitive condoms. My perspective has changed from wanting to know what people really are to just wanting to know what kind of crazy they are. I've gone from wanting to care deeply about someone to tossing up between whether they're worth the heart break. And in some cases, worth and STD or not. I have also discovered that I can't be around people too long as I tend to send them crazy. Literally. Something about me turns people from fully functioning simple beings into a whole lot of crazy. And with it being Mothers Day I have no choice but to reflect on the very first person I sent crazy, a woman whom to this day I still don't understand. Like eating food during sex, some things were never meant be. I wish I could tell her that I do care, but she wouldn't believe me. After spending fifteen years not caring I find its alot easier to accept that some things will never need to make sense; they are what they are however they are for as long as they are. Whatever and ever, amen.

Tee & Aye

There is a character in the Spiderman world called J. Jonah Jameson who parades around calling the web slinger a menace to society. He is a comical element in a comical world, that was until this morning. Watching weekend cartoons and eating my breakfast I realised that if Spiderman were real he would indeed be pimple on society's arse and the same would go for Batman. Their origins stem from their motive to stop crime and that's all good and true but that is all before these genetic mutated villains suddenly start appearing and tearing new vaginal canals wherever they damn well please. And if I'm not mistaken the formula to this unique blend of idiocy stems from the male egos desire to be bigger and better than the next. While fighting crime is admirable having to fight of villains dressed as clowns and rhino's is just beyond anything normal. It would be like entering a whorehouse and being greeted by a butcher. Well, its actually nothing like that but I just wanted to put the words 'whorehouse' and 'butcher' in this post somewhere. And I believe it worked, if I must say so myself. Who else is going to congratulate me for being borderline awesome and a borderline pervert? You? Hardly. Get out of my meat house! No women or pork chops for you.

Speaking of confusion, I had me a dream the other night that involved the former Prime Minister of Australia who kept bursting into my room and asking me for the latest rugby results. Which was fine since I was at my computer anyway (yes, even in my dreams I'm downloading porn) so I did a quick Google search. And wouldn't you know it, all the results were related to cricket. Cricket is not rugby Google! Gawd. People say dreams mean something, then I'd like to know what the flying fuck John Howard, cricket and porn all have in common because it sure isn't breasts. Seriously though, I've been having the strangest dreams lately, all of which make sense at first but then continue to turn into the astrological equivalent of throwing a bag of cats at the sun. Last night I was Spiderman in my dreamosphere slinging myself through a sandy hallway, but that may just be a throwback to when I put underwear on my head and pretended to be the masked crusader. I'd love to say I was a child at the time but we both know that's not true. Hey, shut up! They were clean pairs of underwears! I was Captain Ass Face with only my penis as my sidekick. Huuzzaah!

And Over Again

EDIT: You should probably just skip ahead to the third paragraph to save any confusion.

Now, where was I? Oh, right - chicks with dicks. If you suspect she could maybe possibly and probably be a man it should be treated as a cautionary tale not to take her home no matter how drunk you think you're not. Before you jump to conclusions and assume I've spent the last month on a secluded island with a half woman (and not the mermaid kind) it should be made clear that there were clues in my last documented blogasm as to what had happened to me. Shame on the lot of you for missing my cryptic and somewhat depressing message. Seriously! You're not the kind of people I would sit next to and watch Blue Clues with. So, about this half woman, probably best you don't ask and I don't tell. Lets just agree that we both had a fair deal and move right the fuck along.

The state of social networking online is a disgrace and I stupidly stepped into the electronic gang bang without a condom and somehow contracted chlamydia. For the last few months I've been struggling to understand what makes people tick and do the stupid things they do. I really thought I had it all figured out until life recently gave me a left steel cap boot to the back of the skull in the form history repeating itself, history repeating itself. Repeating itself. And while I'd love to indulge you all in the sordid details of having to tolerate the schizophrenic personalities of almost everyone I know I'd rather just say that I'm happy with who I am, what I can achieve and how I intend to deal with repressing a month alone with a half woman that wasn't a mermaid.

So, what have you really missed. I lost my license yet again, dropped out of university, quit my job and told a bunch of friends to fuck off out of my life. Yeah, I've been busy. The week after next I start a new job with an American company that specialises in surgical tools. I've gone from a minimum wage brainless job to being compensated handsomely and given the utmost important responsibility of putting together custom surgical tool kits for operational and emergency surgery's for every hospital in the country. Yeah, I'm going to be busy. The beautiful thing about being me is that I do eventually give up on things when the feelings and effort is not reciprocated, and in the last four weeks I have received an email every day from somebody new asking me why I thought time with a half woman was more important than blogging. Ha! I missed you too.

Removing a history of three years from this blog was hard. Literally. After deleting about a hundred posts I realised there was a bulk delete function. Son of a bitch! So, here we are again at the very beginning of a new series of problems, achievements, observations and tales involving my penis. Oh, lordy will there be plenty of dick references. By the time we're done here you will know it better than I do. And it feels good. No, not whether you know my dick better than I do but rather being able to start over again. It took three years to develop a style of writing to be proud of and now that I can tap at the keyboard and be happy with the textual orgasms I'd like to take a moment to change my underwear and smile back at you. Each and every one of you.