Appendix Scar

He got his Appendix Scar from being a pig-headed kid.

He pulled a sickie with his mother one day going to school, saying he had a pain in his stomach. “Go to school, stop trying for a day off."

But he insisted he was in pain. 

So his mother said, “Well, if you are sick we’d better see the doctor.”

And, they were at the doctor’s an hour later and the doctor diagnosed appendicitis. And he was booked straight in to have his appendix removed.

“We can’t mess around with these things,” said the doctor. “There is nothing to be gain from waiting.”

“Okay doctor, said his mother. “Whatever you think.”

But, it was all made up, he had no pain in his side, but he was too far into it by that stage.

That afternoon he went under the knife and had his appendix removed.

Ever since, he has laughed to himself whenever someone mentioned his appendix scar.

I Started Smoking Again

I started smoking (cigarettes) again. It's a curse, one that you love and hate in equal measures.

Okay, I can see now I was a little rash about the hope to die remark if I relapsed, that I made recently. Yes, hasty. Yes, obviously. I was getting a little carried away hoping to die if I smoked again, I admit that now. Clearly, that is not something I want as a consequence, of having a fag. No siree Bob.

Not, that kind of fag. No, I mean the non insulting kind. No, it’s not a trigger, it is a cigarette.

I guess, I’ll be avoiding black cats, or popping the button on my fold up umbrella, inside the house. You know how that happens, sometimes, just mysteriously. No, I don’t know why. Clearly, it is the mechanism. Well, I’ll be vigilant about that for a while. Or walking under ladders. Not that I have ever made a habit of walking under ladders.

Is that salt? Is that the salt container? Could you pass it to me? Thaaank You.

Nothing. I did nothing. No, really nothing. You saw nothing. No.

Okay, okay, I threw some of the salt over my left shoulder. Are you happy.

Do, I think it works? No, I am just in the habit of useless actions, what do you think?

Yes. I said yes, didn't I. Safe than sorry. Yes, it's better to be.

Graffiti Wall

 

Whizz Goes The Alphabet

all over the wall

in Hieroglyphics

only certain people know

those who are in on it,

on the whole damn thing,

who can read the tag,

see what it says.

Foe, or friend,

it doesn't seem to depend.

Damage 2000,

Deface Universe

Trash Boy.

Base Unit.

Long Weekend

I smoked pot all long, lazy weekend, lying on the couch for days, up the country at Mark & Luke's. All Day, like a jelly having been removed from its mould... wobble, wobble.

What else does one do on the Queen's birthday? I ask you? 

I was lying on the couch on my back with my legs over the arm of the couch with my head on Mat’s knee, as he was looking at his iPad, stoned off my face yet again, when Mark suggested that he and Luke might want some time to themselves.

“Oh? Okay then. Sure.”

We left not long after, late afternoon. 

I think Mark found me too lazy (ha ha) and too stoned to cope with. (pot calling the kettle, but it is their house, of course) 

I even bought all the pot for the weekend and the cigarettes with which to roll my joints and still they weren’t happy. The deal was that Mark would give me half the money. So, right at the end, feeling a little bad about it all, I said, 

“You don’t have to give me any money, but give me what’s left of my half.”

Mark wanted to keep it all for himself. He turned into the middle child and snatched the dope bag away from me, when I pulled out a too bigger bud to take, he snatched the dope out of my hand.

“Seriously?”

Mark can be like that, so no surprise. He is, literally, the middle child in his family, after all.

Mat looked at me with his cheeky face, as I slipped the car into reverse and looked over my left shoulder in readiness to reverse.

“I think we got kicked out, darling.” Devilish grin.

"We got kicked out, honey." I couldn't help but smile. I kissed Mat. Team Us! We didn't care, what the hell! It was probably true, after all. Just far too relaxed.

Ex-boyfriends, there is no counting on them. Ha ha.

Giving it some thought later, they’d probably organised for some ‘trade’ to come over, some country guy with floppy hair and a big dick. Some 20 year old farm boy named Lachlan who gives it and takes at the same time. Oh yeah, there is something in that alright. I get it. As his jocks come down and his semi bounces into view. 

"I've never done this before," he says. That’s moments before he shoves himself up Luke's arse and starts riding Luke. And Luke wails out for more being the total bottom that he is. And the farm boy works his thick thighs faster. Then the farm boy gets speared in his own arse by Mark, letting out a huge yelp as he’s never quite been pinned like that before. Yeah, I get it.

It's still rude, guests are guests. A 'better' offer doesn't quite cut it. But, yeah, I understand, ex-boyfrends are what they are. Would I do that to them? No, quite frankly, I wouldn't. But, whatever, who cares.

And all of that dissolves into the back ground as Mat and I giggles all the way about being kicked out. I role joints when we get home, wishing Mat enjoyed pot way more than he does.

I Headed To The Country

I headed to the country, Friday morning. It was my long weekend. Marty and Leah were expecting me. 

Monty came with me, of course, he was in the car before I was. He has a 6th sense about any car journeys that may be in the offering. He sat on the passenger seat looking out the window panting for the whole trip.

I picked up bakery on the way, you know, as you do. Fresh crusty bread and fruity fruit buns. Up the country with the universes fresh air what more could you want, I ask you? Fresh bread, perhaps some salami I had bought last night, and good coffee. Leah was a coffee snob so that was sorted.  And Marty churned his own butter.

It is just nice to get out of the city and its closed in feel, out to the wide open spaces. The blue overhead for as far as the eye could see, the green stretching out to the horizon, and everything in between. The free flowing space, the expanse above us all, beautiful and complete, without being compromised by property developers selfishness.

The fresh air, you can taste on your tongue, that you can feel on your skin, that feels fresh and clean all around you, the perfume of the earth and the trees. And the depth of being you lose in the city.

I love the crunch of stones under my tyres on Marty and Leah’s long driveway.

Marty and Leah came out and met me on the drive.

“Welcome,” said Marty.

“Welcome, welcome,” said Leah.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello Monty,” said Marty

“Come inside, warm yourself by the fire,” said Leah. “I have made soup for lunch.”

“I have bought crusty bread,” I said.

“Oh, lovely, we’ll get that buttered up in no time,” said Leah.

“Come on Monty, we have a spot by the stove just for you,” said Leah.

Monty hopped out of the car and walked inside like he owned the place.

“Let me take your jacket,” said Leah.

“Can I get you some wine?” asked Marty.

“Can I butter the bread?” I asked.

“I’ll get you a knife and chopping board, and then we should all be ready,” said Leah. “Sit up, and you can cut the bread at the table.”

“I’ll get some glasses,” said Marty

“I’ll get the soup,” said Leah. “Sit up, sit up. We should have a place for you at the table, Monty.” Monty grinned his big grin then sat at my feet under the table.

Marty poured the wine. Leah ladled the soup into the bowls. I cut the bread into thick slices and then slathered each one with butter.

We all sat at the table, we lifted our wine glasses and chinked them in the middle of the table.

“To good friends,” said Marty.

“To a lovely lunch,” I said.

“To peace on earth,” said Leah.

“You don’t really think there is ever going to be peace on earth, do you Lee?” Marty asked.

“Oh Marty, of course I do.”

“You have to be careful of this one, Julian, she can lie with a straight face.”

“Anyone who makes soup this good can lie all they like.”

“Oh, smooth,” said Marty. “You have to be careful of this one, Lee, he will say anything to get into the good graces.”

“Have you ever met a bad Grace?” ask Leah.

“I have,” I offered. “Grace Tubbs..." 

“We went to school with her,” Marty butted in.

“She poisoned her mother and was taken away,” I said.

“Oh, poor Grace Tubbs,” said Leah.

“Except the truth was far more prosaic,” said Marty.

“Her mother died of an overdose,” I said.

“And Grace Tubbs was taken into care.”

“Poor Grace Tubbs,” said Leah. “No father?”

“Her father was a drunk,” said Marty.

“He ran down poor Mrs Beasley in the street,” I said.

“And was sent to jail,” said Marty. “For drink driving.”

“And Mrs Beasley?” asked Leah.

“Dead,” said Marty and I in unison.

“Oh, dear god, now that I am totally distraught,” said Leah. “I better have some of that bread and butter.”

“Elspeth Beasley was in our class,” I offered.

“Oh, poor Elspeth, left without a mother,” said Leah.

“Veered right off the tracks…”

“Drugs… 

“The entire footy team in a motel in Drouin.”

“Allegedly?”

“Allegedly.”

“And then dropped out of school to have twins…”

“From the encounter in the motel room?” asked Leah.

“Allegedly,” Marty and I said in unison.

“Dear God, poor Elspeth,” said Leah.

“She won 5 million in TattsLotto a year, or so, later,” said Marty.

“Then doubled it investing in property,” I said.

“Allegedly,” both Marty and I said in unison.

“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” said Leah.

“Oh laugh,” said Marty.

“One of the twins is Jacki Jospeh.”

“The pop star?” asked Leah.

“The very one,” said Marty.

“That’s what she used the lotto money for,” I said.

“Setting her kid up to be a star,” said Marty.

“Elspeth is now a pop stars manger,” I said.

“Well, good for Elspeth,” said Leah.

“I’ve heard Jacki Joseph is unhappy with her lot, though,” said Marty.

“I’ve heard that too,” I said.

“Well,” said Leah. “What happened to Grace Tubbs?”

“She was hacked to death in front of her kids on the central coast by her partner Xmas morning,” said Marty.

“Oh, so no happy ending for Grace Tubbs,” said Leah.

“Nor her children?” said Marty.

“Happy fucken Xmas kids, hey,” I said.

“There’s a day they’ll be looking forward to for the rest of their lives,” said Marty.

“Ho, ho, ho,” I said.

Marty and I laughed.

“You two are going to hell,” said Leah.

Monty put his paws over his ears.

 

Infinite steps to forever.

Ever increasing number of silver bands stretching around the circumference of the world.

Reflection stretching to the end of time.

On the steps to enlightenment.

I Ended It

I quit smoking. Again. I know, I know, but it is still better to give up once again, than not to.

That’s it, I am done. Done, done, done. I swear it's over. Cross my heart, hope to die. It is not a lie.

Universe, just strike me down dead, if I don't comply. Do it I say! Do it, teach me okay! It is what I deserve for being so unrelentingly perverse.

I Started Again

I started smoking again, I know, weak as piss.

Actually, it was yesterday, but I have already posted yesterday, so here is the admission today.

A day late. But that is what recalcitrant reform smokers do. Chuck the reform to the gutter, boo hoo, so any information that might go with such wicked acts is clearly not going to be posted when it should. 

Oh no, of course not. I’m a loser with a smoking habit, again. I am not going to inform you in a precise and timely manner. Oh no I am not. 

Yes, again. Smoking again. Don’t be surprised I started to fucken smoke again. What kind of idiot am I, I ask you? I just kind fell on them, I did, of course I did. I fell on a lighter too. 😀

Be harsh, be as harsh as you like, I deserve it, as I deserve much worse.

Think of the children! Why won’t someone thing of the fucking children?

Stinking Bitch

Stinky Rachel smelt, putrid bitch. There was no mistaking it. I could smell it wafting around my nostrils, every so often, like passing clouds, that damp, musky, rank odour just passed over me, by me, whenever she came over to my side of the office.

I wanted to say, take yourself away and wash yourself. "Hey Rach, a bit mongy today."

I wondered if it was her nylon panties across her, you know, er, doesn't bear thinking about? Or was it dirty knickers, not washed, running late this morning. Maybe, it was Rob who pinned her down before she got out of bed, leaving no time for more than a wipe down with a cloth.

Of course, she looked quite happy, oblivious, they say a dog can't smell its own rancidness. Getting up with fleas, indeed.

I don't know what the boy equivalent is? I'm not sure there is one? A smelly foreskin? I'm not sure you can really smell that underneath clothes. Too closed in, to many layers between it and the world. Where Rachel had on a dress, with only a thin layer of cotton, I can only assume, between me and her mess.

A dirty foreskin only takes a few sucks and it is clean and the smell is gone? Does a snatch work the same way? I'll have to ask my mate George, he loves talking about that stuff. That is, of course, what girls have in their favour, straight boys don't care if it stinks, just as long as they let them in.

I'm guessing the Sisterhood is scratching at the furniture and grinding their collective teeth over this story, thus far. Oh, bad me, I criticised a woman and I did it on a personal level. Boo Hoo! Am I bad?

Yeah sorry, if I have offended that Borg consciousness thing the sisterhood has got going on, I'm sorry, but it has to be done. Vile cow.

Did you pick up that I don't like Rachel B? I don't.

It is not a girl thing, as such, I work with girls all the time, I mostly have female bosses, just as it happens, all of whom have become friends. But Rachel B. was just a two-faced bitch bitch. She was my boss and she used to look me in the eye and lie to my face. Yes, I am saying these things because I don’t like her. It is still true that she had vaginal odour.

Fuck it. I don’t care!

I had the Witches of Eastwick as my bosses. The Anorexic Bitch was the big boss, the Heart-Attack-Waiting-To-Happen (Apparently, she used to get chest pains, that was the goss on the down low) was Stinky Rachel’s Boss and Stinky Rachel was my boss. And they were a pack of cunts.

The Anorexic Bitch wanted me out, because she was as mad as Hitler and couldn’t stand anything below total loyalty. She was such a rude cow, so unpleasant to be around, that 12 months before she concocted a pack of lies and sacked me, I stopped talking to her. She was just a miserable piece of whatever [fill in the blank], and I stopped talking to her, stopped communicating with her, stopped acknowledging her existence. Now, I mean, I wasn’t stupid, I responded to her if she spoke to me directly, but unless she spoke to me directly, I didn’t communicate with her. I avoided eye contact with her around the office, she was dead to me, and she didn't like it.

So, The Anorexic Bitch got together with the Heart-Attack-Waiting-To-Happen and concocted misery for Stinky Rachel to inflict on me on a daily basis. Nothing I ever did was right. All of my work was picked to pieces. And whenever I questioned Stinky Rachel if there was some kind of problem that I could address, she lied to my face and said nothing was wrong.

If ever I came out of Stinky Rachel’s and my office and saw Stinky Rachel in the Heart-Attack-Waiting-To-Happen’s office, I knew trouble was on my way, and invariably my way it came, right on queue. Stinky Rachel had this attitude where she’d be sitting forward on her seat appearing to hang off every word the Heart-Attack-Waiting-To-Happen was uttering and I learned that meant they were concocting some shit for me.

I got my own back on Stinky Rachel, just a little, as my time with the awful law firm came to an end. 

Just days before, The Anorexic Bitch, accompanied by one of the loveliest HR women in the firm – who I heard through sources resigned over the treatment that was dished out to me, unconfirmed – organised a meeting and spewed half an hour of words at me, none of which were true, all of which I disputed, before the ugly, ugly women sacked me. 

I was going to resign, but I was determined to get my long service leave, so I hung on. Stupid me, I wouldn’t do that again. 

Anyway, tick, tick, tick, I only had a couple of days before my anniversary and qualifying for long service leave and therefore triggering my resignation.

As it turned out, a day, or two, before my sacking – I think it was the Thursday, I was going to resign on the Monday, but The Anorexic Bitch sacked me before I resigned, which was good for me as they paid me out a lot of money to shut me up, which I wouldn’t have got if I resign – Stinky Rachel had not only messed up the paperwork for one of the firms partners, but she had messed it up even more when she’d tried to fix the original mess. There was some important legal aspect to this, which I can’t remember now. The partner was apoplectic about the situation and she called up Stinky Rachel and absolutely read the riot act down the phone to her. She was beyond furious. Stinky Rachel had no idea what she was doing, that was the problem. She was helicoptered into the position of my boss, with no experience whatsoever, when my lovely boss, Beck, was sacked by the Anorexic Bitch a few months previously, on dubious grounds, of course.

So, Stinky Rachel couldn’t apologise enough, or suck up this partner’s arse far enough, promising on her life that she now had it all sorted out. It was a very tense phone call – which I enjoyed immensely – at the end of which Stinky Rachel told me she was done in and she had to go home early because of the drama. On her way out, she tossed the letter containing the very important, on which maybe her job depended, corrective paperwork at me, and looking down her wicked witch of the west’s nose, said, 

“Put this in the mail before you leave, will you?” 

And then she left an hour early because of the blowup. The poor petal.

This mail thing made absolutely no sense as she was practically walking past the mail box/slot/tray herself. She could have done it herself.

Anyway, stupid her. I could never understand this action. Was she so self-focused that she had no clue what the effect of her lies and scheming to get rid of me with her two senior cunts would have on me? She must have been absolutely clueless? She was dumb as ditch water, I know that. But usually, the evil and the dishonest have some sort of rat cunning. I mean, seriously?

Anyway, I was left sitting at my desk with this very important letter in my hands. Well, very important to Stinky Rachel. Something she really needed to be delivered. Was I getting this right, her job may have well depended on this letter getting to its destination? Did I have that right? Did I? Was that the story?

I tossed the letter from one hand to the other. And then back again. I twiddled the envelope in my fingers.

I looked down at the envelope in my hands.

PUT this in the mail before you leave, will you?

Put THIS in the mail before you leave, will you?

Put this in the MAIL before you leave, will you?

Put this in the mail BEFORE you leave, will you?

Put this in the mail? I tossed the letter from one hand to the other.

Put this in the mail? I tossed the letter from one hand to the other again.

Why didn’t you put it in the mail yourself? Why did you give it to me to put in the mail? Was this some sort of dominance thing? Clean up my shit, boy? I had to wonder. Not that I cared, fuck her. It was just an interesting development? And weird too. If you had a letter on which your job may have depended, don’t you think you would personally make sure it got, in this case, posted? Don’t you think?

This very important letter.

Important… letter. I said the words out loud.

Well, anyway, we had a big office and we delt in sensitive paperwork, so we had a rather large shredder. And I was supposed to be resigning in 3 work days.

Put this in the mail, before you leave, I said for the last time.

Oh yeah, Stinky Rachel, I’ll put it in the mail before I leave, sure I will.

As I said, it was a rather large shredder, and, wouldn’t you know it, Stinky Rachel’s very important, thick with very important paperwork, letter was no problem for the very big shredder.

Zzzzzzzzzzz.

I whistled as I left the office, that day, which was unusual for me.

And then I didn’t really think about it again. I had other things to think about. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that someone said to me, You know, Rachel left not long after you did. But, I didn’t care by then. Someone else from that period told me she thought Rachel was dead and the two of us had a really good laugh.