If you click on the links at the top right hand page of this um page, you're apt to come across - well - God only knows what, really.
Things like this...
http://chalahan2006.blogspot.com/
You can just imagine my reaction when I saw that. Yeah, I just had to come and tell everyone.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Caption contest over.
There, I'm happy with that caption.
Probably helps that I'm very fond of the person in the picture too.
Catching up with the old gang
Years and years ago, probably 2 and a half to be more accurate, one of the kids in Queensland and I would talk for hours on messenger or on the phone, usually at times one or both of us should have been asleep and then, because of circumstances we stopped.
He got a new internet provider or something, I got a new phone with a new number and it seems all attempts at communication proved futile. Odd really.
Anyway, the other day, I tripped over some spot on the e-bog where he just happens to have left a footprint, so I threatened terrible repercussions if he didn't drop a message and say g'day.
And he did.
It's one of the nicest things being me that if I lose contact for a while with someone, I can always just pick up the threads as if it were just the week before since I spoke to them last.
And the best thing of all about Andrew is he's even more relaxed about everything than I am. Hard to believe, I know, but there you have it.
This has been another presentation from your emotionally dangerous ChatRat
He got a new internet provider or something, I got a new phone with a new number and it seems all attempts at communication proved futile. Odd really.
Anyway, the other day, I tripped over some spot on the e-bog where he just happens to have left a footprint, so I threatened terrible repercussions if he didn't drop a message and say g'day.
And he did.
It's one of the nicest things being me that if I lose contact for a while with someone, I can always just pick up the threads as if it were just the week before since I spoke to them last.
And the best thing of all about Andrew is he's even more relaxed about everything than I am. Hard to believe, I know, but there you have it.
This has been another presentation from your emotionally dangerous ChatRat
Friday, March 10, 2006
My day starts late
Yesterday was weird. I was totally bored out of my head for the first few hours, then it got intense and I didn't want it to end. Then all the intensity dried right up and I went to bed early.
Today I got up early and was totally bored out of my head for the first few hours, then it got intense for an hour or two and I had to go out. Which pretty much wrecked the rest of the day. I watched Phantom Menace until the pod race, then I got bored with that and got back on the net. I've been making a nuisance of myself for an hour or so but I don't really feel like pushing my luck there any more than I have been lately.
I bailed early on a couple of the kids because I had to go out and I have this horrible feeling it was as disappointing for them as it was for me. They get talking and they don't stop until they're ready to collapse at their keyboards. (And people wonder why I love them so much...)
I'm still bored though.
Those corporations that want my money all sent me birthday greetings yesterday. Way to go, guys. One's going to get it, the rest can go fuck themselves.
I'm also staring at the only birthday present that managed to find its way through the alienation filters and gift-giving firewalls I thought I'd maintained pretty well. My dad sent it through my brother then rang up to make sure I'd got it.
He never ever understood me. I just don't know how I could make it any plainer - forget the day, don't tell me I'm no longer the same age I was the day before. Unbelievable. Oh well.
I should get very drunk. I feel like have a binge but I'm just too damn bored to even get the bottle out. Besides, I don't think there's any ice.
My playlist is better than yours. It has much David Bowie on it. So there.
Today I got up early and was totally bored out of my head for the first few hours, then it got intense for an hour or two and I had to go out. Which pretty much wrecked the rest of the day. I watched Phantom Menace until the pod race, then I got bored with that and got back on the net. I've been making a nuisance of myself for an hour or so but I don't really feel like pushing my luck there any more than I have been lately.
I bailed early on a couple of the kids because I had to go out and I have this horrible feeling it was as disappointing for them as it was for me. They get talking and they don't stop until they're ready to collapse at their keyboards. (And people wonder why I love them so much...)
I'm still bored though.
Those corporations that want my money all sent me birthday greetings yesterday. Way to go, guys. One's going to get it, the rest can go fuck themselves.
I'm also staring at the only birthday present that managed to find its way through the alienation filters and gift-giving firewalls I thought I'd maintained pretty well. My dad sent it through my brother then rang up to make sure I'd got it.
He never ever understood me. I just don't know how I could make it any plainer - forget the day, don't tell me I'm no longer the same age I was the day before. Unbelievable. Oh well.
I should get very drunk. I feel like have a binge but I'm just too damn bored to even get the bottle out. Besides, I don't think there's any ice.
My playlist is better than yours. It has much David Bowie on it. So there.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
On Zadok the Priest and other things
What a stupid name for a song... Zadok the Priest.
It rambles on a bit, but me being ever so slightly the Philistine, I chopped the rest of the mp3 off after the first stanza - which, let's face it, is the best bit of the whole song.
I love the strings, not so much the chorale and the brass.
Wikipedia has a picture of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra playing that piece at Rod Laver Arena - damn fine picture too.
One I think Caleb could well appreciate. Speaking of Caleb, he posted a simply superb pic of Cody to his blog, which I couldn't resist.
One of these days, probably fairly soon I should think, I'll come up with one of those brief and meaningful quotations which future generations of tie-wearing twats will frame in their little plastic box offices and thereby completely ruin the sentiment of what is otherwise a magnificent and beautiful picture.
Yeah, I think it's fair to say I'm in an exceptionally upbeat mood right now.
Rageboy sent me another email after I did one of those terrible things to people in the middle of something too. I sent him a link to a book I thought he might find interesting and pertinent to Mystic Bourgeoisie and he was interested in it. Didn't consider my sending it a nuisance at all. Wooo!
I rock.
It's hot again this weekend. Just thought I'd finish by trying to return you to the state you were in before you started reading this edition. It'd be successful too if you don't stare at Caleb's picture of Cody by the lake too long as well.
It rambles on a bit, but me being ever so slightly the Philistine, I chopped the rest of the mp3 off after the first stanza - which, let's face it, is the best bit of the whole song.
I love the strings, not so much the chorale and the brass.
Wikipedia has a picture of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra playing that piece at Rod Laver Arena - damn fine picture too.
One I think Caleb could well appreciate. Speaking of Caleb, he posted a simply superb pic of Cody to his blog, which I couldn't resist.
One of these days, probably fairly soon I should think, I'll come up with one of those brief and meaningful quotations which future generations of tie-wearing twats will frame in their little plastic box offices and thereby completely ruin the sentiment of what is otherwise a magnificent and beautiful picture.
Yeah, I think it's fair to say I'm in an exceptionally upbeat mood right now.
Rageboy sent me another email after I did one of those terrible things to people in the middle of something too. I sent him a link to a book I thought he might find interesting and pertinent to Mystic Bourgeoisie and he was interested in it. Didn't consider my sending it a nuisance at all. Wooo!
I rock.
It's hot again this weekend. Just thought I'd finish by trying to return you to the state you were in before you started reading this edition. It'd be successful too if you don't stare at Caleb's picture of Cody by the lake too long as well.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Too busy or not too busy
I did the oddest thing today. One of the kids was disinclined to update their blog, so I did it in the form of a comment. Yet to see how it rates but I liked it.
In other news, if you've noticed a slowing down of the internet of late, blame Rageboy. He's started a new movement at frappr and hasn't slowed down any of his other activities. The hogging of bandwidth is all down to him. I feel so honoured I got in early. I even got a reply whilst things were slow.
Down Clothing Co. is with it all the way too. Ordinarily I'd dismiss these people as rank spammers, the K-Mart of the internet, but there was just something classy about what they sent me and rather than opt for my usual disdain of such things, I decided to bite. As in take the bait, not snap back at them for their impertinence.
Impertinence is one my more endearing qualities so how I could begrudge a clothing company that quality. Well, I can't. Now, let's just see of what they're made. Will they follow it up or will I have to jolt them into action? Time will tell.
I feel the love.
But it feels like it's flowing to me at the expense of those around me - kinda like RB sucking up all the bandwidth. Just what the hell I'm supposed to do with it is anyone's guess though. I turn on the tap and there's all this lovin' comin' out at me. It's not like I can cram it all back, but I can't make good use of it either. Why people don't listen to a word I say is beyond me too. Here, I'll throw it up in big bold capitals for you:
LOVE YOURSELVES, NOT ME.
I don't want hosers for groupies. Actually, I don't especially want groupies either. I'm an RB groupie. If you want to be more like me - and I know you do - become an RB groupie too.
Clickage on the right.
Two words, sprung on me for the first time in 1979 have come amusingly hauntingly back into the forefront of my consciousness.
History Revision.
It used to be what we did before a test on Friday, but now it's a criminal offence in some countries.
lol...
Adults are so fucked up aren't they?
In other news, if you've noticed a slowing down of the internet of late, blame Rageboy. He's started a new movement at frappr and hasn't slowed down any of his other activities. The hogging of bandwidth is all down to him. I feel so honoured I got in early. I even got a reply whilst things were slow.
Down Clothing Co. is with it all the way too. Ordinarily I'd dismiss these people as rank spammers, the K-Mart of the internet, but there was just something classy about what they sent me and rather than opt for my usual disdain of such things, I decided to bite. As in take the bait, not snap back at them for their impertinence.
Impertinence is one my more endearing qualities so how I could begrudge a clothing company that quality. Well, I can't. Now, let's just see of what they're made. Will they follow it up or will I have to jolt them into action? Time will tell.
I feel the love.
But it feels like it's flowing to me at the expense of those around me - kinda like RB sucking up all the bandwidth. Just what the hell I'm supposed to do with it is anyone's guess though. I turn on the tap and there's all this lovin' comin' out at me. It's not like I can cram it all back, but I can't make good use of it either. Why people don't listen to a word I say is beyond me too. Here, I'll throw it up in big bold capitals for you:
LOVE YOURSELVES, NOT ME.
I don't want hosers for groupies. Actually, I don't especially want groupies either. I'm an RB groupie. If you want to be more like me - and I know you do - become an RB groupie too.
Clickage on the right.
Two words, sprung on me for the first time in 1979 have come amusingly hauntingly back into the forefront of my consciousness.
History Revision.
It used to be what we did before a test on Friday, but now it's a criminal offence in some countries.
lol...
Adults are so fucked up aren't they?
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Walking at night
I like to go walking at night. I'm well known in my neighbourhood because I nod, smile and say g'day to everyone coming the other way. There aren't many people who walk around at night around here. They're mostly in their 60s so they stay inside and knit or watch the ABC.
I'm feeling a bit overcrowded, that's why I like to do things without interference from other people from time to time. I'm feeling overcrowded because the phone is ringing with offers I don't want. I'm getting emails from people I don't like and requests for all sorts of shit for people about whom I couldn't care less and who care nothing for me either.
I kinda loathe superficiality. It's social clutter. It's like having to put with someone's psychological garbage because they have no idea how to deal with it themselves. I sure as shit don't want it. If you have nothing worthwhile to say, then just shut the fuck up.
One of the kids grabbed me on messenger and was very reticent about getting me to evaluate a poem he'd written for a school assignment. They all know I hate poetry. I got it out of him eventually and it was really very good. For someone who hates poetry to say that, it must have been something special.
Don't worry though, you're never going to read it from my keyboard. (I reserve my prerogative to be an arsehole.)
What's the difference between depression and laziness?
Think carefully before you start sending me emails.
Time for my evening's contemplative stroll.
(I want to get to the shop before it shuts.)
I'm feeling a bit overcrowded, that's why I like to do things without interference from other people from time to time. I'm feeling overcrowded because the phone is ringing with offers I don't want. I'm getting emails from people I don't like and requests for all sorts of shit for people about whom I couldn't care less and who care nothing for me either.
I kinda loathe superficiality. It's social clutter. It's like having to put with someone's psychological garbage because they have no idea how to deal with it themselves. I sure as shit don't want it. If you have nothing worthwhile to say, then just shut the fuck up.
One of the kids grabbed me on messenger and was very reticent about getting me to evaluate a poem he'd written for a school assignment. They all know I hate poetry. I got it out of him eventually and it was really very good. For someone who hates poetry to say that, it must have been something special.
Don't worry though, you're never going to read it from my keyboard. (I reserve my prerogative to be an arsehole.)
What's the difference between depression and laziness?
Think carefully before you start sending me emails.
Time for my evening's contemplative stroll.
(I want to get to the shop before it shuts.)
Monday, February 20, 2006
Oooh ditto.
I have a week off.
Among other annoying events, or perhaps that should be non-events, I forgot to eat again today. I mean, I opened the cupboards and had a look around, I opened the fridge and the freezer and I grabbed a couple of things, then I put them back because I couldn't be bothered making anything because I realised I couldn't be bothered eating anything either.
My dog does enough eating for both of us, the fluffy fat red pig that he is. I didn't eat anything yesterday either. I tend to sleep through most of Saturday now. I rang my beloved Liz and spoke to her for an hour or so all the way across the ocean in Oregon. Ok, well she asked me to and I did because I do that sort of thing for people I love and I love Liz to bits.
It would be nice if people didn't shit on her as much as they seem to do. I wish she'd just get on a plane and come to Australia. She could learn to relax a little bit and there's no better place on earth - besides Ibiza - to relax. Australians are generally so laid back it's a wonder we're not all corpses.
I have a week to either find a new gig or just get a regular full time permanent job. Gigs are good because they're not permanent and they pay rather nicely, but they just don't seem to give me the same satisfaction as regular work.
I gave that youth newspaper a thorough going over yesterday too and was stunned and mortified and lots of other unpleasant words ending with d which pretty much meant this newspaper is nothing short of advertising pitched at teenagers. Fucking bastards. What a scam. Someone's getting paid too much and I bet they're not delivering even one tenth for what the misbegotten punter is paying. There's absolutely bugger all in it for young people.
S-Press has to be a better bet, but the thought of taking notepad, pen and paper into school events and that sort of thing smacks of whitewash to me. I don't like it, although to give them their due, they're not pretending to be a charity, they have a massive Your Say section and the ads are pretty much for the sort of stuff the kids go for whether they're advertised or not. Billabong sells itself, they don't need to advertise. S-Press's biggest flaw is the paper itself isn't a freebie. If it were, the circulation would probably go through the roof. Anyway, if I want a writing gig, or even a writing job, I'm going to have to toe someone's line and it sure as shit beats going up against a million other jokers all vying for a spot in The Big Issue (which is a surprisingly good publication) for a couple of hundred bucks a fortnight. That's good money for coffees after work but it ain't gunna cut it when the electrickery bill comes around.
Lastly, I spotted something somewhere which is right up Rageboy's alley right now, considering what he's writing. I must find it again and send him the link, though he's pretty much mapped out his book and everything he's going to put in it. Pro writers tend to do that - get their whole book planned, make the entire framework and never deviate even one iota from that framework as they fill in the gaps. Sorta means I'm probably too late, but it still may interest him nevertheless.
And between the time I wrote that and posted it here, I found the link for which I was searching. Damn I'm good.
The cap I habitually wear is wearing out and I can't get another one. What a bitch.
Among other annoying events, or perhaps that should be non-events, I forgot to eat again today. I mean, I opened the cupboards and had a look around, I opened the fridge and the freezer and I grabbed a couple of things, then I put them back because I couldn't be bothered making anything because I realised I couldn't be bothered eating anything either.
My dog does enough eating for both of us, the fluffy fat red pig that he is. I didn't eat anything yesterday either. I tend to sleep through most of Saturday now. I rang my beloved Liz and spoke to her for an hour or so all the way across the ocean in Oregon. Ok, well she asked me to and I did because I do that sort of thing for people I love and I love Liz to bits.
It would be nice if people didn't shit on her as much as they seem to do. I wish she'd just get on a plane and come to Australia. She could learn to relax a little bit and there's no better place on earth - besides Ibiza - to relax. Australians are generally so laid back it's a wonder we're not all corpses.
I have a week to either find a new gig or just get a regular full time permanent job. Gigs are good because they're not permanent and they pay rather nicely, but they just don't seem to give me the same satisfaction as regular work.
I gave that youth newspaper a thorough going over yesterday too and was stunned and mortified and lots of other unpleasant words ending with d which pretty much meant this newspaper is nothing short of advertising pitched at teenagers. Fucking bastards. What a scam. Someone's getting paid too much and I bet they're not delivering even one tenth for what the misbegotten punter is paying. There's absolutely bugger all in it for young people.
S-Press has to be a better bet, but the thought of taking notepad, pen and paper into school events and that sort of thing smacks of whitewash to me. I don't like it, although to give them their due, they're not pretending to be a charity, they have a massive Your Say section and the ads are pretty much for the sort of stuff the kids go for whether they're advertised or not. Billabong sells itself, they don't need to advertise. S-Press's biggest flaw is the paper itself isn't a freebie. If it were, the circulation would probably go through the roof. Anyway, if I want a writing gig, or even a writing job, I'm going to have to toe someone's line and it sure as shit beats going up against a million other jokers all vying for a spot in The Big Issue (which is a surprisingly good publication) for a couple of hundred bucks a fortnight. That's good money for coffees after work but it ain't gunna cut it when the electrickery bill comes around.
Lastly, I spotted something somewhere which is right up Rageboy's alley right now, considering what he's writing. I must find it again and send him the link, though he's pretty much mapped out his book and everything he's going to put in it. Pro writers tend to do that - get their whole book planned, make the entire framework and never deviate even one iota from that framework as they fill in the gaps. Sorta means I'm probably too late, but it still may interest him nevertheless.
And between the time I wrote that and posted it here, I found the link for which I was searching. Damn I'm good.
The cap I habitually wear is wearing out and I can't get another one. What a bitch.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
They're all talking about it now
One of the kids on the other side, well two of them actually, brought up the subject of filth not exactly propositioning underage girls, but pretty damn close to it and yes, he's involved in the youth division of some political party.
Am I annoyed by this?
Well waddaya reckon!
I had a conversation with her this afternoon and told her it's freaked me out these last two days and although I didn't need to beg her to keep herself and her friends safe, it's the kids who don't have those networks or are in any other way vulnerable that this cunt will pick on. The bloke has a reputation as a creep but when some kid who is feeling isolated for whatever reason seeks out another the rest of the group shuns, it spells Trouble - and makes this Rat fret.
Maybe the kids I know are safe from him, but somewhere, some kid isn't.
Right, so it's my personal hang up but let's face it, when you know from personal experience how those fuckers operate, the patterns are pretty easy to recognise.
Oh did I say hang up? Oops, sorry - I meant hobby horse. I ride that baby not exactly with pride and joy, but I'm not about to abandon my enthusiasm for it, there's too much at stake to leave that sort of thing to chance.
I help those kids feel better about a whole range of things and I know - again from personal experience as well as the words of professionals - that a high self esteem is a kid's best defence against predators. And that's what it's all about, self esteem.
When I see the kids defaulting to laziness or irresponsibility when it comes to things they know they should be doing, I jump on them for it. The best and most efficient means of building their self esteem is to make them feel as though they can achieve their goals, that they can operate effectively in this world and they have back-ups if they need them. (Networking.)
When they default, they know they've defaulted. They can't lie to themselves and I don't let them get away with trying to spring that shit on me either. They know it too. Probably why the ones with whom I've spent the most time actually do respect me.
I'm tough on them because defaulting, taking the easy way out or making excuses LOWERS their sense of self esteem. Whatever it takes to motivate them to achieve even tiny goals is gold dust to me. Knowing their interests and aspirations is how I fight their laziness or defaulting and taking the easy way out. Is that using their goals against them or is it effective in motivating them to get off their arses and help themselves to be what they want to be?
We do have a lot of laughs along the way, I'm not saying I stand over them like some ogre demanding they pull their fingers out and get on with their lives, but I do make heavy usage of analogies and sometimes it's hard to come up with really good ones. I can't handle this attitude of self defeat which I first saw in print in 1991 in John Holt's excellent book "How Children Fail" in the chapter titled "Strategies".
Being successful is hard work and developing strategies for dealing with people who want you to succeed is a recipe for personal disaster. They have to bite the bullet and do what they know is the right thing to do, not make excuses or find reasons for doing the wrong thing and being lazy.
It's hard being tough with some of those kids too. I don't want to lose any of them. I really do love them that much. But if they see me as someone on whom they can rely, how bad would it be to let them down by ignoring the warning signs and being a part of their failure instead of being there to see them achieve everything they want to achieve. I can't do that. I won't do it.
*sigh*
It's ok to admit you can't do something but only after they've given it their best shot and not some half arsed token gesture of an attempt. Asking for help and support is probably the hardest aspect of working towards personal success anyway. I hope I make it easy for them to come to me when they want that kind of support and encouragement.
I think I do. They've come to me with some pretty far out questions and requests, and they let me do other stuff for them too, particularly when it comes to writing or music and I absolutely leap on even half an opportunity to do whatever I can. One of those requests took me four days to finish, but it was worth it.
Anyway, I'm done for tonight. Take what you will from all of this and apply it to whomever you please. If self esteem doesn't rate with anyone reading this, then kindly just fuck off. I'm not interested in entertaining the willful emotional leper.
Am I annoyed by this?
Well waddaya reckon!
I had a conversation with her this afternoon and told her it's freaked me out these last two days and although I didn't need to beg her to keep herself and her friends safe, it's the kids who don't have those networks or are in any other way vulnerable that this cunt will pick on. The bloke has a reputation as a creep but when some kid who is feeling isolated for whatever reason seeks out another the rest of the group shuns, it spells Trouble - and makes this Rat fret.
Maybe the kids I know are safe from him, but somewhere, some kid isn't.
Right, so it's my personal hang up but let's face it, when you know from personal experience how those fuckers operate, the patterns are pretty easy to recognise.
Oh did I say hang up? Oops, sorry - I meant hobby horse. I ride that baby not exactly with pride and joy, but I'm not about to abandon my enthusiasm for it, there's too much at stake to leave that sort of thing to chance.
I help those kids feel better about a whole range of things and I know - again from personal experience as well as the words of professionals - that a high self esteem is a kid's best defence against predators. And that's what it's all about, self esteem.
When I see the kids defaulting to laziness or irresponsibility when it comes to things they know they should be doing, I jump on them for it. The best and most efficient means of building their self esteem is to make them feel as though they can achieve their goals, that they can operate effectively in this world and they have back-ups if they need them. (Networking.)
When they default, they know they've defaulted. They can't lie to themselves and I don't let them get away with trying to spring that shit on me either. They know it too. Probably why the ones with whom I've spent the most time actually do respect me.
I'm tough on them because defaulting, taking the easy way out or making excuses LOWERS their sense of self esteem. Whatever it takes to motivate them to achieve even tiny goals is gold dust to me. Knowing their interests and aspirations is how I fight their laziness or defaulting and taking the easy way out. Is that using their goals against them or is it effective in motivating them to get off their arses and help themselves to be what they want to be?
We do have a lot of laughs along the way, I'm not saying I stand over them like some ogre demanding they pull their fingers out and get on with their lives, but I do make heavy usage of analogies and sometimes it's hard to come up with really good ones. I can't handle this attitude of self defeat which I first saw in print in 1991 in John Holt's excellent book "How Children Fail" in the chapter titled "Strategies".
Being successful is hard work and developing strategies for dealing with people who want you to succeed is a recipe for personal disaster. They have to bite the bullet and do what they know is the right thing to do, not make excuses or find reasons for doing the wrong thing and being lazy.
It's hard being tough with some of those kids too. I don't want to lose any of them. I really do love them that much. But if they see me as someone on whom they can rely, how bad would it be to let them down by ignoring the warning signs and being a part of their failure instead of being there to see them achieve everything they want to achieve. I can't do that. I won't do it.
*sigh*
It's ok to admit you can't do something but only after they've given it their best shot and not some half arsed token gesture of an attempt. Asking for help and support is probably the hardest aspect of working towards personal success anyway. I hope I make it easy for them to come to me when they want that kind of support and encouragement.
I think I do. They've come to me with some pretty far out questions and requests, and they let me do other stuff for them too, particularly when it comes to writing or music and I absolutely leap on even half an opportunity to do whatever I can. One of those requests took me four days to finish, but it was worth it.
Anyway, I'm done for tonight. Take what you will from all of this and apply it to whomever you please. If self esteem doesn't rate with anyone reading this, then kindly just fuck off. I'm not interested in entertaining the willful emotional leper.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Too boring to do over there...
What's worse than a Josh with too much time on his hands?
A plagiarising Rat with even more time.
:x: do you wish you could live somewhere else: No way. Melbourne's perfect.
:x: do you think about suicide: Not any more.
:x: do you believe in online dating: I've never been that lonely.
:x: do you think others find you attractive: More fool them if they do.
:x: do you want (more) piercings: No.
:x: do you like cleaning: Hate it.
:x: do you like roller coasters: No.
:x: write in cursive or print: Both.
:x: last talked to: George
:x: last thought of: Josh - it's his quiz.
:x: last showered: Last night.
:x: last cut your nails: Last week.
:x: last did laundry: Last Sunday.
:x: last hugged a tree: I don't do that herbisexual bullshit
:x: last watched anime: What's anime?
:x: last prayed: More than 20 years ago, still waiting for an answer.
for or against…
:x: long distant relationships: Madder than mad. Even short distance ones are fraught with danger.
:x: killing people: If the bastards deserve to die.
:x: teenage smoking: dislike it
:x: driving drunk: Fucking idiots.
:x: gay/lesbian relationships: For.
:x: soap operas: For braindead fat housebound dole bludgers only.
have you…
:x: ever cried over a romantic interest: No
:x: ever been in a fist fight: Not really. When I hit, I don't get hit back.
:x: ever been arrested: Yes
:x: ever had a friend die: More than I care to number.
:x: ever dated a cousin: Don't have any cousins.
:x: ever used a gun: Yes
:x: ever frenched kiss: Yes
:x: ever finished a puzzle: Yes
:x: ever got surgery: Yes
:x: ever got beat up: No
:x: ever hated someone: So much it hurts.
:x: ever made a huge mistake: More than I care to remember..
:x: ever tried any drugs: Not many
:x: ever jogged a mile: Only when I was young and foolish
:x: ever played w/ someone’s feelings: Unintentionally perhaps.
:x: ever had feelings for someone younger than you: Of course.
what..
:x: shoes do you wear: Puma.
:x: are you scared of: Nothing in particular.
:x: do you sleep in: Whatever I last wore during the day.
:x: did you eat for lunch today: Didn't.
:x: is love: A good excuse for behaving like a tosspot.
number…
:x: of times I have had my heart broken?: Once or twice.
:x: of hearts I have broken?: One or two.
:x: of girls I have kissed?: lost count
:x: of boys I have kissed?: Only my former boss and my little brother.
:x: of guys/girls you've rejected?: All of them now.
:x: of drugs you taken: God, how many are there!
:x: of people you lean on?: 1
:x: of people you broke up with?: Don't recall
:x: of people who broke up with you?: See above.
Would you say you are...
:x: pretty: Nope
:x: funny: Meh
:x: hot: No way.
:x: friendly: Not usually
:x: ugly: Not in the dark
:x: loveable: Hope not
:x: caring: Yes
:x: dorky: Who's asking?
:x: cocky: I'm not cocky, I'm just fuckin' awesome. (I left this one as I found it.)
:x: girly: Never
:x: boyish: Often.
:x: smart: Yeah I'd say so.
:x: pimp: Nah
:x: angel: Definitely not
:x: gangster: Bunch of insecure tossers.
:x: God: No, Cheri's God, Ardra's the Devil and I'm just the mail man..
favorite…
:x: FOUR letter word: Crap
:x: comedian: Robin Williams/ Billy Connolly
:x: candy: Chocolate
:x: cartoon: Prince Planet
:x: cereal: I don't really have one
:x: chewing gum: Nah
:x: day of week: Saturday
:x: least fave day: Thursday
:x: jello flavor: Disgusting revolting stuff - even to wrestle in.
:x: summer/winter: Autumn
:x: trampolines or swimming pools: Pools
Last person who/that...
:x: slept in your bed: Me
:x: saw you cry: I don't know.
:x: made you cry: My little brother.
:x: you went to the movies with: George
:x: yelled at you: George?
:x: sent you an email: Tiffers.
have you ever…
:x: said "I love you" and meant it?: Yeah.
:x: gone out in public in your pajamas?: Yeah, except they weren't MY pyjamas.
:x: kept a secret from everyone?: I guess.
:x: cried during a movie?: Often. I lose it big time in movies.
:x: ever at anytime owned new kids on the block?: No, I don't do that sort of thing.
:x: planned your week based on the TV Guide?: Tv, that's what they had before the internet isn't it?
:x: been on stage?: Heaps of times
:x: been to New York? No
:x: been to California?: No
:x: been to Florida?: No
:x: Hawaii?: No
:x: China?: No
:x: Canada?: One of the few places to which I would like to go.
:x: Europe?: No
:x: what time is it now? 9:42pm
:x: apples or bananas?: Bananas
:x: blue or red?: Blue
:x: walmart or target?: I'd rather die
:x: spring or fall?: Autumn. Wankers who write these things should think globally.
:x: what are you gonna do after you finish this?: Dunno.
:x: what was the last meal you ate?: Lunch - yesterday.
:x: are you bored?: Probably
:x: last noise you heard? Song by Aerosmith.
:x: last smell you sniffed?: Apple pie.
:x: last time you went out of state/province?: 1986
:x: last car ride: two hours ago.
friendship/love…
:x: do you believe in love at first sight?: Of course.
:x: do you want children one day & if so, how many?: If I ever have children it will be for the sheer effect of messing with their heads. (Josh's answer, I'll go with this one too.
:x: most important thing to you in a friendship is?: My friends know when to leave me the fuck alone.
random stuff…
:x: criminal record?: As long as my arm
:x: do you speak any other languages?: I can swear in several
:x: name some of your favorite things in your bedroom: Me.
:x: worst feeling in the world?: Pass.
:x: who are you in love with?: Nobody.
your…
:x: nickname(s): Rat
:x: initials: PR
:x: how old do you look?: 30ish
:x: how old do you act?: 15
:x: glasses/contacts?: Only for reading at the end of a long day.
:x: braces: No
:x: do you have any pets?: Yeah
:x: you get embarrassed?: Sometimes.
:x: what upsets you?: People in general. Mostly the stupid ones.
LoVe LiFe-
:x; who do you love/like a lot: EA
:x: who was your previous signifigant other: Does my little brother count?
:x: who was the last person you kissed: My former boss.
:x: who was the last person you hugged: My boss's wife.
:x: how long have you been with your signifigant other: I'm not and hope not to be.
:x: what is your best memory with this person: solitude.
ChatRat
A plagiarising Rat with even more time.
:x: do you wish you could live somewhere else: No way. Melbourne's perfect.
:x: do you think about suicide: Not any more.
:x: do you believe in online dating: I've never been that lonely.
:x: do you think others find you attractive: More fool them if they do.
:x: do you want (more) piercings: No.
:x: do you like cleaning: Hate it.
:x: do you like roller coasters: No.
:x: write in cursive or print: Both.
:x: last talked to: George
:x: last thought of: Josh - it's his quiz.
:x: last showered: Last night.
:x: last cut your nails: Last week.
:x: last did laundry: Last Sunday.
:x: last hugged a tree: I don't do that herbisexual bullshit
:x: last watched anime: What's anime?
:x: last prayed: More than 20 years ago, still waiting for an answer.
for or against…
:x: long distant relationships: Madder than mad. Even short distance ones are fraught with danger.
:x: killing people: If the bastards deserve to die.
:x: teenage smoking: dislike it
:x: driving drunk: Fucking idiots.
:x: gay/lesbian relationships: For.
:x: soap operas: For braindead fat housebound dole bludgers only.
have you…
:x: ever cried over a romantic interest: No
:x: ever been in a fist fight: Not really. When I hit, I don't get hit back.
:x: ever been arrested: Yes
:x: ever had a friend die: More than I care to number.
:x: ever dated a cousin: Don't have any cousins.
:x: ever used a gun: Yes
:x: ever frenched kiss: Yes
:x: ever finished a puzzle: Yes
:x: ever got surgery: Yes
:x: ever got beat up: No
:x: ever hated someone: So much it hurts.
:x: ever made a huge mistake: More than I care to remember..
:x: ever tried any drugs: Not many
:x: ever jogged a mile: Only when I was young and foolish
:x: ever played w/ someone’s feelings: Unintentionally perhaps.
:x: ever had feelings for someone younger than you: Of course.
what..
:x: shoes do you wear: Puma.
:x: are you scared of: Nothing in particular.
:x: do you sleep in: Whatever I last wore during the day.
:x: did you eat for lunch today: Didn't.
:x: is love: A good excuse for behaving like a tosspot.
number…
:x: of times I have had my heart broken?: Once or twice.
:x: of hearts I have broken?: One or two.
:x: of girls I have kissed?: lost count
:x: of boys I have kissed?: Only my former boss and my little brother.
:x: of guys/girls you've rejected?: All of them now.
:x: of drugs you taken: God, how many are there!
:x: of people you lean on?: 1
:x: of people you broke up with?: Don't recall
:x: of people who broke up with you?: See above.
Would you say you are...
:x: pretty: Nope
:x: funny: Meh
:x: hot: No way.
:x: friendly: Not usually
:x: ugly: Not in the dark
:x: loveable: Hope not
:x: caring: Yes
:x: dorky: Who's asking?
:x: cocky: I'm not cocky, I'm just fuckin' awesome. (I left this one as I found it.)
:x: girly: Never
:x: boyish: Often.
:x: smart: Yeah I'd say so.
:x: pimp: Nah
:x: angel: Definitely not
:x: gangster: Bunch of insecure tossers.
:x: God: No, Cheri's God, Ardra's the Devil and I'm just the mail man..
favorite…
:x: FOUR letter word: Crap
:x: comedian: Robin Williams/ Billy Connolly
:x: candy: Chocolate
:x: cartoon: Prince Planet
:x: cereal: I don't really have one
:x: chewing gum: Nah
:x: day of week: Saturday
:x: least fave day: Thursday
:x: jello flavor: Disgusting revolting stuff - even to wrestle in.
:x: summer/winter: Autumn
:x: trampolines or swimming pools: Pools
Last person who/that...
:x: slept in your bed: Me
:x: saw you cry: I don't know.
:x: made you cry: My little brother.
:x: you went to the movies with: George
:x: yelled at you: George?
:x: sent you an email: Tiffers.
have you ever…
:x: said "I love you" and meant it?: Yeah.
:x: gone out in public in your pajamas?: Yeah, except they weren't MY pyjamas.
:x: kept a secret from everyone?: I guess.
:x: cried during a movie?: Often. I lose it big time in movies.
:x: ever at anytime owned new kids on the block?: No, I don't do that sort of thing.
:x: planned your week based on the TV Guide?: Tv, that's what they had before the internet isn't it?
:x: been on stage?: Heaps of times
:x: been to New York? No
:x: been to California?: No
:x: been to Florida?: No
:x: Hawaii?: No
:x: China?: No
:x: Canada?: One of the few places to which I would like to go.
:x: Europe?: No
:x: what time is it now? 9:42pm
:x: apples or bananas?: Bananas
:x: blue or red?: Blue
:x: walmart or target?: I'd rather die
:x: spring or fall?: Autumn. Wankers who write these things should think globally.
:x: what are you gonna do after you finish this?: Dunno.
:x: what was the last meal you ate?: Lunch - yesterday.
:x: are you bored?: Probably
:x: last noise you heard? Song by Aerosmith.
:x: last smell you sniffed?: Apple pie.
:x: last time you went out of state/province?: 1986
:x: last car ride: two hours ago.
friendship/love…
:x: do you believe in love at first sight?: Of course.
:x: do you want children one day & if so, how many?: If I ever have children it will be for the sheer effect of messing with their heads. (Josh's answer, I'll go with this one too.
:x: most important thing to you in a friendship is?: My friends know when to leave me the fuck alone.
random stuff…
:x: criminal record?: As long as my arm
:x: do you speak any other languages?: I can swear in several
:x: name some of your favorite things in your bedroom: Me.
:x: worst feeling in the world?: Pass.
:x: who are you in love with?: Nobody.
your…
:x: nickname(s): Rat
:x: initials: PR
:x: how old do you look?: 30ish
:x: how old do you act?: 15
:x: glasses/contacts?: Only for reading at the end of a long day.
:x: braces: No
:x: do you have any pets?: Yeah
:x: you get embarrassed?: Sometimes.
:x: what upsets you?: People in general. Mostly the stupid ones.
LoVe LiFe-
:x; who do you love/like a lot: EA
:x: who was your previous signifigant other: Does my little brother count?
:x: who was the last person you kissed: My former boss.
:x: who was the last person you hugged: My boss's wife.
:x: how long have you been with your signifigant other: I'm not and hope not to be.
:x: what is your best memory with this person: solitude.
ChatRat
Monday, February 06, 2006
Tempted
The Russian Stock Exchange has been disrupted by a computer virus.
How unfortunate!
If I didn't find this inherently amusing, you wouldn't be reading about it here. If I thought it a well written article, I'd have copied it here but the possibilities for gigglage were just hanging in the wind like a fat grandma's bloomers on a clothesline in a strong breeze.
What on earth do they trade on the Russian stock exchange anyway? Shares in coal mines? Vodka distilleries? Potato farms? Gee, they'd be worth a packet. How about nuclear power plants... oooh, bad!
Personally, I was unaware the Russkies even had a stock exchange. It's a massive wasteland where everyone thinks food is a luxury to be afforded only by the corrupt, the wealthy and western tourists.
I know that's not a terribly accurate view of Moscow and St Petersberg and probably one or two other large cities, but in the far east of that country, the peasants live on nothing but whale meat, brought to shore in those funny little boats you see being used as fishing boats in tourist brochures for the Philippines. Only there aren't any Philippino fishermen within cooee of Vladivostok.
In other news, I'm feeling decidedly dejected because it seems whilst the owners of my current gig were away on holidays, several thousand dollars went missing and I had everything and nothing to do with it.
I gathered and recorded the taking of the money in the first place, but between my hands and the bank, wads of it went missing and they have their eyes firmly planted on me as being the culprit.
I WISH!!
If I'd pinched a few thousand dollars in a two week spree, what's the chances of me still being there to wait for the fallout? Not a snowflake's chance in hell. I'd be sunning myself in the Victorian high country, throwing stones at errant cattle and - with my laptop computer, plugging in and writing like someone possessed.
I wish I knew where the money went too. I'd rest easier then. It's one thing to be accused of something I haven't done but it's bloody uncomfortable having nothing with which to prove my innocence because it's my word against the paper records I kept - some of which have also gone missing through no fault of my own - and it makes me look as guilty as sin.
There are a couple of things in my favour though. Firstly, I put in very long hours and don't record them which means they're getting my time for nothing. Secondly, mishaps have occurred when I haven't been there. Thirdly, the bloke they entrusted with the shop's management while they were on holidays has been playing funny buggers with them for the last two weeks over unrelated matters.
But I'm still feeling exceedingly disappointed that the finger of blame and incrimination is pointed almost exclusively in my direction and I don't have an adequate answer.
If this gets worse, I'll just quit. I don't care, I'm not going to stand for being accused of something I haven't done and be branded as untrustworthy - a liar and a thief - in short. I just won't.
What bugs me no end though is that I can't tell for sure who's bullshitting whom but I'm piggy in the middle.
I'm going to get some professional advice from Lance on this one. I seriously want out of this whole stupid situation not of my making but I want to get out in such fashion it doesn't make me appear to be guilty of something I haven't done.
I want to help these people, not rub their noses in the dust of lightfingeredness. But I'm still number one in this equation. I'm not about to compromise my own integrity for the sake of a brawl between the proprietors and whomever it is who either should be able to account for the missing money or who should be held accountable for it having actually gone missing.
All that just isn't me. I get involved with the business, not the warping and undermining of it.
Enough of that.
Some jerks put out the most pathetic remake of one of my favourite songs - Forever Young - and whilst the film clip is a good one, the rendition is pox. I hate it.
Too bad. I'm going to listen to a bit of Simon & Garfunkel then go to bed.
Sod the whole world for a few hours. It can bloody well take care of itself without me for a bit.
ChatRat
How unfortunate!
If I didn't find this inherently amusing, you wouldn't be reading about it here. If I thought it a well written article, I'd have copied it here but the possibilities for gigglage were just hanging in the wind like a fat grandma's bloomers on a clothesline in a strong breeze.
What on earth do they trade on the Russian stock exchange anyway? Shares in coal mines? Vodka distilleries? Potato farms? Gee, they'd be worth a packet. How about nuclear power plants... oooh, bad!
Personally, I was unaware the Russkies even had a stock exchange. It's a massive wasteland where everyone thinks food is a luxury to be afforded only by the corrupt, the wealthy and western tourists.
I know that's not a terribly accurate view of Moscow and St Petersberg and probably one or two other large cities, but in the far east of that country, the peasants live on nothing but whale meat, brought to shore in those funny little boats you see being used as fishing boats in tourist brochures for the Philippines. Only there aren't any Philippino fishermen within cooee of Vladivostok.
In other news, I'm feeling decidedly dejected because it seems whilst the owners of my current gig were away on holidays, several thousand dollars went missing and I had everything and nothing to do with it.
I gathered and recorded the taking of the money in the first place, but between my hands and the bank, wads of it went missing and they have their eyes firmly planted on me as being the culprit.
I WISH!!
If I'd pinched a few thousand dollars in a two week spree, what's the chances of me still being there to wait for the fallout? Not a snowflake's chance in hell. I'd be sunning myself in the Victorian high country, throwing stones at errant cattle and - with my laptop computer, plugging in and writing like someone possessed.
I wish I knew where the money went too. I'd rest easier then. It's one thing to be accused of something I haven't done but it's bloody uncomfortable having nothing with which to prove my innocence because it's my word against the paper records I kept - some of which have also gone missing through no fault of my own - and it makes me look as guilty as sin.
There are a couple of things in my favour though. Firstly, I put in very long hours and don't record them which means they're getting my time for nothing. Secondly, mishaps have occurred when I haven't been there. Thirdly, the bloke they entrusted with the shop's management while they were on holidays has been playing funny buggers with them for the last two weeks over unrelated matters.
But I'm still feeling exceedingly disappointed that the finger of blame and incrimination is pointed almost exclusively in my direction and I don't have an adequate answer.
If this gets worse, I'll just quit. I don't care, I'm not going to stand for being accused of something I haven't done and be branded as untrustworthy - a liar and a thief - in short. I just won't.
What bugs me no end though is that I can't tell for sure who's bullshitting whom but I'm piggy in the middle.
I'm going to get some professional advice from Lance on this one. I seriously want out of this whole stupid situation not of my making but I want to get out in such fashion it doesn't make me appear to be guilty of something I haven't done.
I want to help these people, not rub their noses in the dust of lightfingeredness. But I'm still number one in this equation. I'm not about to compromise my own integrity for the sake of a brawl between the proprietors and whomever it is who either should be able to account for the missing money or who should be held accountable for it having actually gone missing.
All that just isn't me. I get involved with the business, not the warping and undermining of it.
Enough of that.
Some jerks put out the most pathetic remake of one of my favourite songs - Forever Young - and whilst the film clip is a good one, the rendition is pox. I hate it.
Too bad. I'm going to listen to a bit of Simon & Garfunkel then go to bed.
Sod the whole world for a few hours. It can bloody well take care of itself without me for a bit.
ChatRat
Losing touch.
Last week I worked a total of 76 hours. I'm officially very very tired.
I'm also getting distressed. I'm very aware that where before I had time at the right time of day to exchange messages with people in real time, that has been supplanted these two weeks just past by work in which I'm rapidly losing interest.
Income is nice but money is only as good as the things for which it used. There's no point having plenty of money and not having the time to enjoy the privileges of being cashed up.
While I know "it's all going to be ok in the long run", it upsets me because it doesn't take a whole lot to go from being ok to being outstanding - for the better or the worse. An ounce of careful management is worth a ton of remedial action.
Moreover, if 99% of perspiration is the result of 1% of inspiration, it doesn't take much to figure out that without that tiny bit of inspiration, all the perspiration will pretty much be for someone else's benefit. Work for the man or be the man for whom others work. You know how it goes.
For those who are missing out on what has erstwhile been the norm, believe me when I say it's burning a hole in my soul as well. I still love you all and miss you terribly.
I'm also getting distressed. I'm very aware that where before I had time at the right time of day to exchange messages with people in real time, that has been supplanted these two weeks just past by work in which I'm rapidly losing interest.
Income is nice but money is only as good as the things for which it used. There's no point having plenty of money and not having the time to enjoy the privileges of being cashed up.
While I know "it's all going to be ok in the long run", it upsets me because it doesn't take a whole lot to go from being ok to being outstanding - for the better or the worse. An ounce of careful management is worth a ton of remedial action.
Moreover, if 99% of perspiration is the result of 1% of inspiration, it doesn't take much to figure out that without that tiny bit of inspiration, all the perspiration will pretty much be for someone else's benefit. Work for the man or be the man for whom others work. You know how it goes.
For those who are missing out on what has erstwhile been the norm, believe me when I say it's burning a hole in my soul as well. I still love you all and miss you terribly.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
This cracked me up...
An author answers questions from an interviewer...
How does it feel to receive a good review or an award?
I feel pleased to live in a world where there are such good critics.
And how does it feel to receive a bad review?
I feel sad to live in a world where there are such poor critics.
An ego of that magnitude just deserves respect.
How does it feel to receive a good review or an award?
I feel pleased to live in a world where there are such good critics.
And how does it feel to receive a bad review?
I feel sad to live in a world where there are such poor critics.
An ego of that magnitude just deserves respect.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Dragging on...
I dislike anniversaries of things, except the anniversary of the federation of Australia, January 26, also known as Australia Day.
The trouble is, a week from today, it's the anniversary of Christopher's death and as much as I'd like to deny it, it's bugging me not a little.
It's been 6 years (less 7 days) since he died and I don't know whether to be ashamed or proud of the fact I still miss him terribly and that it still hurts.
Right now, I'm still overwhelmingly confident I will never get involved in anything resembling a close personal relationship again. Not that it doesn't seem worthwhile, it's just I haven't come to terms with so magnitudinous a loss yet. Some part of me is still totally distracted by what's no longer there.
Cody would leap on it with glee if I surmised my preoccupation with the Crew, as I've affectionately come to know the kids on the other side, is largely down to missing my little brother so much - considering he was only 19 when he died.
I do sometimes fantasize about a few of them as pseudo replacements for Christopher, but not in any serious way. They are their own people, all different from each other and all different from Christopher. I love them because of who they are, not because I miss my brother.
Looking after Christopher was something of a habit. The only time I wasn't doing something revolving around caring for him was when I was asleep. And I preferred sleeping when he was awake because it was next to impossible to sleep when he was asleep because the little bastard snored like a freight train. It made the windows rattle. When he slept, I was out working but I would call in regularly to make sure he was ok. I was lucky to have had such an understanding boss at the time.
When he died, I had no option but to break the habit. I didn't know what to do with myself. Not only had I lost the person I loved more than any other before or since, my daily routine was ruined.
I'd get up at 4am and go to work, Chris would still be asleep. I'd drop in around 9 to make sure he was ok and get him anything he needed. If he were awake and wanted to come with me, I'd get him dressed and take him back to work with me where he would sit outside and watch the passing traffic until about 1pm when I'd finish. Then I'd spend the rest of the day with him - usually fighting about some stupid thing or other - and we'd end up back at home where I'd crash by 10pm while he watched the television.
Towards the end, we moved the mattresses from his bed and mine into the loungeroom so if he needed anything, he could wake me up. He needed to sleep by the heater because the cold made him ache too much and even morphine wouldn't calm him down. There were days and nights he was in so much pain, all I could do was hold him.
There were times I had to carry him to the car and drive him to hospital, shouting at him to make him remember to breathe. And Christopher wasn't small. He was a stocky nugget of a kid. He lost 20 kilos in his last few months, and I don't know whether he gave up on himself or pitied me for what I was going through watching him waste away, unable even to take care of his basic needs. Before he got sick, he was a small mountain of a kid, strong as an ox. To need help showering and dressing himself was devastating for him. If we didn't share that bond of unequivocal love and trust, that would just have been nightmarish for both of us. He used to apologise if he needed me to help him get to the toilet if it interrupted what I was doing. Then I would hold him again, sometimes for hours, just to reaffirm the fact I still loved him.
There was nothing I didn't do for him and nothing I wouldn't have done for him. It's an attitude that became, as I said, a habit and one I was neither willing nor ready to break. What I got out of caring for him was fulfillment. It was me being more than just me, it was me being fundamental to his life as well. I don't even know how to describe how that made me feel except to lose that feeling suddenly left a massive hole, not only in my daily routine, but in me as a person. Half of me was gone. In many ways, a more noble part of me.
What I get from those kids on the other side is an opportunity to again do in a greatly reduced fashion the one thing that brought me unequalled joy, pride and pleasure, the best thing I can say I've ever done and that is to care about someone other than myself. Christopher could have opted to go into a hospice or hospital, but he hated the very thought of that and chose to stay with me instead. For better or worse, I wouldn't have had it any other way either. What has been the cost to me for doing what I did instead of putting him somewhere he could have had 24/7 professional care? I don't know. Did I gain as a person? Again, I don't know. Would I feel differently about so many things now had I not taken care of my little brother? Maybe. One emotion I don't feel though, is guilt. I did my very best every waking minute of my life and I was 100% devoted to Christopher.
In view of the fact there are times - like the upcoming anniversary of his death - when I feel that loss more keenly than normal, was taking care of Christopher the best thing I could have done for myself? Hindsight, being the interminable fink it is, I have to say the answer is 'no'. It probably wasn't the best thing I could have done for myself. But I can only guess at how I'd feel if I'd have done anything else. I have no alternative but to think I'd feel much worse, and yes, very very guiltridden.
And that's why I can't help wanting to do the things I do and why I can't help wanting and needing to be around for the kids on the other side. Not just the Crew, but all the other kids from the other side as well. That these kids allow me to do that is what continually brings me so much pride and joy.
Parents don't always get things right. They quite often get things very wrong, but as long as there is love, there can be forgiveness for past mistakes. If together a family can muddle its way through the upbringing of a child, the child will turn out just fine as long as there is love for and trust in one another.
I wanted to blog this here instead of there because to me, imposing this sort of emotional burden on a kid is nothing short of abuse. I've no doubt one or two of them will read this, but it's their choice. If I did this over there, it has the potential not to be. If any of them cared enough to read this and comment here, I would take that as a pretty good guage of whether they feel I'm a pain the arse or if, indeed, they place any value on what we've done together over the last 6 months.
For those who needed a reason why I'm there at all, this is it.
For those who need to know what I do there, well, I converse. We talk about music, books, poetry, people, politics, history, blogs and the internet. They send me their music and they listen to mine. We share ideas and we laugh together. Sometimes, I listen to them when they need someone to listen to them or even just to know that someone is there who will listen to them if they ever need to talk.
I blogged this here because although I trust them enough to treat this sensibly, the idea they might take my happiness on as some sort of personal responsibility doesn't sit well with me - and there is more than one who might very well feel that way. That's not what I want. I'm pretty happy just as I am. I don't need any sort of moral support right now. I just wanted to say this because it's important to me to properly identify what I'm feeling - both about this upcoming anniversary of Christopher's death - and my interaction with all of them and how or if the two are related and what that relationship might be.
Maybe not doing this sooner is what has contributed to my making contact with the kids on the other side at all. Again I don't know, although I do suspect that's probably very likely. I can't stress enough how important it is to properly and honestly identify our emotions and deal with them openly and honestly and if that means keeping a diary or blogging, then that's what it means.
When Christopher died, I had an emotional breakdown which was probably a major contributing factor to my last heart attack. Put simply, I stopped wanting to live. I knew that much and it didn't need any further identification than that. But now I do want to live and today, with so much angst being generated because of the date and the anniversary it represents, I'm moved to deal with these feelings I've been carrying for 6 long years. I'll probably blog something similar next week, but the next big bit of writing I will be doing will be on Thursday when I put out the next edition of The Swamp, which will be another Worst Business Practice Award - the 8th WBP since I started them in 2001.
Feel free to comment but be warned now, I won't be happy if any stupid platitudes appear hereunder and I may choose to either ignore or retaliate. It'll depend on the weather.
The trouble is, a week from today, it's the anniversary of Christopher's death and as much as I'd like to deny it, it's bugging me not a little.
It's been 6 years (less 7 days) since he died and I don't know whether to be ashamed or proud of the fact I still miss him terribly and that it still hurts.
Right now, I'm still overwhelmingly confident I will never get involved in anything resembling a close personal relationship again. Not that it doesn't seem worthwhile, it's just I haven't come to terms with so magnitudinous a loss yet. Some part of me is still totally distracted by what's no longer there.
Cody would leap on it with glee if I surmised my preoccupation with the Crew, as I've affectionately come to know the kids on the other side, is largely down to missing my little brother so much - considering he was only 19 when he died.
I do sometimes fantasize about a few of them as pseudo replacements for Christopher, but not in any serious way. They are their own people, all different from each other and all different from Christopher. I love them because of who they are, not because I miss my brother.
Looking after Christopher was something of a habit. The only time I wasn't doing something revolving around caring for him was when I was asleep. And I preferred sleeping when he was awake because it was next to impossible to sleep when he was asleep because the little bastard snored like a freight train. It made the windows rattle. When he slept, I was out working but I would call in regularly to make sure he was ok. I was lucky to have had such an understanding boss at the time.
When he died, I had no option but to break the habit. I didn't know what to do with myself. Not only had I lost the person I loved more than any other before or since, my daily routine was ruined.
I'd get up at 4am and go to work, Chris would still be asleep. I'd drop in around 9 to make sure he was ok and get him anything he needed. If he were awake and wanted to come with me, I'd get him dressed and take him back to work with me where he would sit outside and watch the passing traffic until about 1pm when I'd finish. Then I'd spend the rest of the day with him - usually fighting about some stupid thing or other - and we'd end up back at home where I'd crash by 10pm while he watched the television.
Towards the end, we moved the mattresses from his bed and mine into the loungeroom so if he needed anything, he could wake me up. He needed to sleep by the heater because the cold made him ache too much and even morphine wouldn't calm him down. There were days and nights he was in so much pain, all I could do was hold him.
There were times I had to carry him to the car and drive him to hospital, shouting at him to make him remember to breathe. And Christopher wasn't small. He was a stocky nugget of a kid. He lost 20 kilos in his last few months, and I don't know whether he gave up on himself or pitied me for what I was going through watching him waste away, unable even to take care of his basic needs. Before he got sick, he was a small mountain of a kid, strong as an ox. To need help showering and dressing himself was devastating for him. If we didn't share that bond of unequivocal love and trust, that would just have been nightmarish for both of us. He used to apologise if he needed me to help him get to the toilet if it interrupted what I was doing. Then I would hold him again, sometimes for hours, just to reaffirm the fact I still loved him.
There was nothing I didn't do for him and nothing I wouldn't have done for him. It's an attitude that became, as I said, a habit and one I was neither willing nor ready to break. What I got out of caring for him was fulfillment. It was me being more than just me, it was me being fundamental to his life as well. I don't even know how to describe how that made me feel except to lose that feeling suddenly left a massive hole, not only in my daily routine, but in me as a person. Half of me was gone. In many ways, a more noble part of me.
What I get from those kids on the other side is an opportunity to again do in a greatly reduced fashion the one thing that brought me unequalled joy, pride and pleasure, the best thing I can say I've ever done and that is to care about someone other than myself. Christopher could have opted to go into a hospice or hospital, but he hated the very thought of that and chose to stay with me instead. For better or worse, I wouldn't have had it any other way either. What has been the cost to me for doing what I did instead of putting him somewhere he could have had 24/7 professional care? I don't know. Did I gain as a person? Again, I don't know. Would I feel differently about so many things now had I not taken care of my little brother? Maybe. One emotion I don't feel though, is guilt. I did my very best every waking minute of my life and I was 100% devoted to Christopher.
In view of the fact there are times - like the upcoming anniversary of his death - when I feel that loss more keenly than normal, was taking care of Christopher the best thing I could have done for myself? Hindsight, being the interminable fink it is, I have to say the answer is 'no'. It probably wasn't the best thing I could have done for myself. But I can only guess at how I'd feel if I'd have done anything else. I have no alternative but to think I'd feel much worse, and yes, very very guiltridden.
And that's why I can't help wanting to do the things I do and why I can't help wanting and needing to be around for the kids on the other side. Not just the Crew, but all the other kids from the other side as well. That these kids allow me to do that is what continually brings me so much pride and joy.
Parents don't always get things right. They quite often get things very wrong, but as long as there is love, there can be forgiveness for past mistakes. If together a family can muddle its way through the upbringing of a child, the child will turn out just fine as long as there is love for and trust in one another.
I wanted to blog this here instead of there because to me, imposing this sort of emotional burden on a kid is nothing short of abuse. I've no doubt one or two of them will read this, but it's their choice. If I did this over there, it has the potential not to be. If any of them cared enough to read this and comment here, I would take that as a pretty good guage of whether they feel I'm a pain the arse or if, indeed, they place any value on what we've done together over the last 6 months.
For those who needed a reason why I'm there at all, this is it.
For those who need to know what I do there, well, I converse. We talk about music, books, poetry, people, politics, history, blogs and the internet. They send me their music and they listen to mine. We share ideas and we laugh together. Sometimes, I listen to them when they need someone to listen to them or even just to know that someone is there who will listen to them if they ever need to talk.
I blogged this here because although I trust them enough to treat this sensibly, the idea they might take my happiness on as some sort of personal responsibility doesn't sit well with me - and there is more than one who might very well feel that way. That's not what I want. I'm pretty happy just as I am. I don't need any sort of moral support right now. I just wanted to say this because it's important to me to properly identify what I'm feeling - both about this upcoming anniversary of Christopher's death - and my interaction with all of them and how or if the two are related and what that relationship might be.
Maybe not doing this sooner is what has contributed to my making contact with the kids on the other side at all. Again I don't know, although I do suspect that's probably very likely. I can't stress enough how important it is to properly and honestly identify our emotions and deal with them openly and honestly and if that means keeping a diary or blogging, then that's what it means.
When Christopher died, I had an emotional breakdown which was probably a major contributing factor to my last heart attack. Put simply, I stopped wanting to live. I knew that much and it didn't need any further identification than that. But now I do want to live and today, with so much angst being generated because of the date and the anniversary it represents, I'm moved to deal with these feelings I've been carrying for 6 long years. I'll probably blog something similar next week, but the next big bit of writing I will be doing will be on Thursday when I put out the next edition of The Swamp, which will be another Worst Business Practice Award - the 8th WBP since I started them in 2001.
Feel free to comment but be warned now, I won't be happy if any stupid platitudes appear hereunder and I may choose to either ignore or retaliate. It'll depend on the weather.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
To: Undisclosed Recipients. Subject: Notification of Consolation Prize Winning...
From: powerball_lottery_937@msn.com
lol...
POWERBALL LOTTO. BV
POWERBALL-WHEEL E-GAME 2006
Dear Consolation Prize Winner,
NOTICE OF CONSOLATION PRIZE WINNING
This email confirms that you have been notified of by the POWERBALL INTER LOTTO BV The Netherlands of your email lottery winning for 2005 Powerball Lotto - Wheel E-game held on 22th December 2005.
We wish to congratulate you on the selection of your email coupon number which was selected among the 45 lucky consolation prize winners. Your email ID identified with Coupon No.PBL2348974321 and was selected by Electronic Random Selection System (ERSS) with entries from the 50,000 different email addresses enrolled for the Lotto-Wheel E-game. Your email ID included among the 50,000 different email addresses where submitted by our partner international email provider companies.
Prize Ref No.: PBL/CN/6654/CP
Lottery Group: Consolation Prize Group
Prize Amount: US $500,000 Five Hundred Thousand Dollars Only
You are required to file claims for your lottery prize winning by contacting the Lottery Claims Processing Officer with your winning information provided above.
Lottery Claims Officer:
Name: Mr.David Richmond
Email: david_richmond@myway.com
Tel: 0031616064746 or +31616064746
Fax: 0031620579576 or +31620579576
Congratulations once again from all our staffs on your consolation prize winning, we hope you will partake in our forth coming Powerball Lotto-Wheel Email-games.
Yours truly,
Mrs.Brijet Phillip,
(Lottery Coordinator)
How tempted am I to ring these people up and just abuse the shit out of them?
Pretty fucking tempted.
lol...
POWERBALL LOTTO. BV
POWERBALL-WHEEL E-GAME 2006
Dear Consolation Prize Winner,
NOTICE OF CONSOLATION PRIZE WINNING
This email confirms that you have been notified of by the POWERBALL INTER LOTTO BV The Netherlands of your email lottery winning for 2005 Powerball Lotto - Wheel E-game held on 22th December 2005.
We wish to congratulate you on the selection of your email coupon number which was selected among the 45 lucky consolation prize winners. Your email ID identified with Coupon No.PBL2348974321 and was selected by Electronic Random Selection System (ERSS) with entries from the 50,000 different email addresses enrolled for the Lotto-Wheel E-game. Your email ID included among the 50,000 different email addresses where submitted by our partner international email provider companies.
Prize Ref No.: PBL/CN/6654/CP
Lottery Group: Consolation Prize Group
Prize Amount: US $500,000 Five Hundred Thousand Dollars Only
You are required to file claims for your lottery prize winning by contacting the Lottery Claims Processing Officer with your winning information provided above.
Lottery Claims Officer:
Name: Mr.David Richmond
Email: david_richmond@myway.com
Tel: 0031616064746 or +31616064746
Fax: 0031620579576 or +31620579576
Congratulations once again from all our staffs on your consolation prize winning, we hope you will partake in our forth coming Powerball Lotto-Wheel Email-games.
Yours truly,
Mrs.Brijet Phillip,
(Lottery Coordinator)
How tempted am I to ring these people up and just abuse the shit out of them?
Pretty fucking tempted.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Phew it's hot.
Tomorrow, Sunday, Melbourne will have the rather dubious honour to be the hottest state capital in Australia.
I mean, Melbourne is always hot for the right reasons. Tomorrow it's just plain hot. 43 Celcius - about 107 American.
The media would have us get all panicked and unsteady about Bird Flu H5N1 looking 1337 but meaning nothing. People die in heat like that. Hospital emergency rooms flood with sunburn victims and heat stroke victims and all sorts of other nasty ailments generally caused by remaining too long in an oven.
I'm talking hot.
The roads are going to melt. It's fry an egg on the roof of the car type weather. It's power grid shut-down due to the massive employment of air conditioners that's going to happen.
I remember going to the movies last time it was that hot. Even in the cinema it was hot and uncomfortable. It wasn't 43 but when you can't get up to find a breeze anywhere, who cares how hot it is or isn't. It's just blurtishly hot.
Why Melbourne of all places in this vast country?
We're southern, we're not supposed to get the sort of weather they usually get in Alice Springs - which deserves it. 40+ degree heat in Alice Springs is nature's way of telling people they shouldn't be living there in the first place. But Melbourne is beach front property. It's half way between the equator and the south pole. It's just not supposed to get that bloody hot.
Adelaide made the news today for having just endured its hottest spell for 65 years. They're in for another torrid day tomorrow with the mercury set to reach 40. Not as hot as us - and they're closer to the equator than we are.
Wtf is up with that?
I don't have to work tomorrow. There's no air conditioning there either. We sort of rely on a door open at the back to let the breeze through. It does work, but when that breeze is hot enough to roast a chicken, as it will be tomorrow, who in their right minds would subject themselves to it for something as intrinsically worthless as money?
I don't think I would work tomorrow if I turned up anyway. I don't think I'd work at all if I set foot outside the front door and into the unsanitised atmosphere, devoid of its murderous heat. If the power goes off tomorrow, I'm running a bath. A cold bath. I'll take a notepad and pens in with me and forget there's an inside out oven outside the walls and pen something poignant.
Something like "The swans drifted by the moss covered rocks at the side of the pond. They looked serene and unaffected. They wouldn't change for a while yet, they'd been boiled alive in the pond and hadn't yet begun to decay. Autoclaved swans tend to hold their form for 3 or 4 days. Did I mention it was hot? Fucking hot."
On a map of Australia, tomorrow at least, Tasmania looks like a very attractive place. In all honesty it is - except for those two headed people who live there. I liked Hitchhiker's Guide, but 300,000 real life Zaphods aren't exactly high on my list of things to see before I die.
If it weren't for the fact half the population of Melbourne would be out walking their stupid pets until 3 in the morning tonight, it would be an absolutely marvellous thing to walk around the darkened streets stark bollock naked. Or just to be outside and unclad. This weather is too hot even for mozzies. They all found refreshingly cool bits of water in which to lay their eggs, stayed too long and burned to death like lobsters in restaurant pots. Good.
I'd really do that... be outside starkers, but there are enough people already who think I'm weird and dangerous enough online without having half a suburb telling everyone else I'm a crazed freak irl as well. (Besides which, I have views about my views. There are some things I don't share with just anyone.)
When Andrew from Canada was here, he was planting trees. The news today advised that half of the eastern areas of Victoria have burned out in a bushfire or three. Probably started by the thunderstorms that went through yesterday, but it wouldn't surprise me if those trees just spontaneously combusted. And it's going to be 10 degrees hotter tomorrow than it was today and today bordered on the unbearable.
I hope he's not still stuck in some desert shithole in South Australia. I mean, this heat is killer heat. I'm serious, people die in that kind of heat if they don't take measures to protect themselves from it. If you're in the middle of nowhere in this country, the only way to escape the heat is to bury yourself in the sand and keep the sun off your head as best you can - and consume 48 litres of water an hour.
So much for all his good work, and that of those who are with him.
Hey Andrew, COME BACK!
Still love the kids on the other side. (Just so you know.)
I mean, Melbourne is always hot for the right reasons. Tomorrow it's just plain hot. 43 Celcius - about 107 American.
The media would have us get all panicked and unsteady about Bird Flu H5N1 looking 1337 but meaning nothing. People die in heat like that. Hospital emergency rooms flood with sunburn victims and heat stroke victims and all sorts of other nasty ailments generally caused by remaining too long in an oven.
I'm talking hot.
The roads are going to melt. It's fry an egg on the roof of the car type weather. It's power grid shut-down due to the massive employment of air conditioners that's going to happen.
I remember going to the movies last time it was that hot. Even in the cinema it was hot and uncomfortable. It wasn't 43 but when you can't get up to find a breeze anywhere, who cares how hot it is or isn't. It's just blurtishly hot.
Why Melbourne of all places in this vast country?
We're southern, we're not supposed to get the sort of weather they usually get in Alice Springs - which deserves it. 40+ degree heat in Alice Springs is nature's way of telling people they shouldn't be living there in the first place. But Melbourne is beach front property. It's half way between the equator and the south pole. It's just not supposed to get that bloody hot.
Adelaide made the news today for having just endured its hottest spell for 65 years. They're in for another torrid day tomorrow with the mercury set to reach 40. Not as hot as us - and they're closer to the equator than we are.
Wtf is up with that?
I don't have to work tomorrow. There's no air conditioning there either. We sort of rely on a door open at the back to let the breeze through. It does work, but when that breeze is hot enough to roast a chicken, as it will be tomorrow, who in their right minds would subject themselves to it for something as intrinsically worthless as money?
I don't think I would work tomorrow if I turned up anyway. I don't think I'd work at all if I set foot outside the front door and into the unsanitised atmosphere, devoid of its murderous heat. If the power goes off tomorrow, I'm running a bath. A cold bath. I'll take a notepad and pens in with me and forget there's an inside out oven outside the walls and pen something poignant.
Something like "The swans drifted by the moss covered rocks at the side of the pond. They looked serene and unaffected. They wouldn't change for a while yet, they'd been boiled alive in the pond and hadn't yet begun to decay. Autoclaved swans tend to hold their form for 3 or 4 days. Did I mention it was hot? Fucking hot."
On a map of Australia, tomorrow at least, Tasmania looks like a very attractive place. In all honesty it is - except for those two headed people who live there. I liked Hitchhiker's Guide, but 300,000 real life Zaphods aren't exactly high on my list of things to see before I die.
If it weren't for the fact half the population of Melbourne would be out walking their stupid pets until 3 in the morning tonight, it would be an absolutely marvellous thing to walk around the darkened streets stark bollock naked. Or just to be outside and unclad. This weather is too hot even for mozzies. They all found refreshingly cool bits of water in which to lay their eggs, stayed too long and burned to death like lobsters in restaurant pots. Good.
I'd really do that... be outside starkers, but there are enough people already who think I'm weird and dangerous enough online without having half a suburb telling everyone else I'm a crazed freak irl as well. (Besides which, I have views about my views. There are some things I don't share with just anyone.)
When Andrew from Canada was here, he was planting trees. The news today advised that half of the eastern areas of Victoria have burned out in a bushfire or three. Probably started by the thunderstorms that went through yesterday, but it wouldn't surprise me if those trees just spontaneously combusted. And it's going to be 10 degrees hotter tomorrow than it was today and today bordered on the unbearable.
I hope he's not still stuck in some desert shithole in South Australia. I mean, this heat is killer heat. I'm serious, people die in that kind of heat if they don't take measures to protect themselves from it. If you're in the middle of nowhere in this country, the only way to escape the heat is to bury yourself in the sand and keep the sun off your head as best you can - and consume 48 litres of water an hour.
So much for all his good work, and that of those who are with him.
Hey Andrew, COME BACK!
Still love the kids on the other side. (Just so you know.)
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
The other side again
I was just having a conversation with one of the kids from the other side and it got me thinking about my 4 big heroes in life: Patch Adams, John Holt, Chris Locke and my little brother.
The first 3 all hold the same basic tenets as I have regarding human interaction. My 4th hero, my little brother, showed me life itself. He showed me strength, he showed me unconditional love and trust and he showed me how to find peace where nobody else could.
He knew he was dying and in the latter stages of his life, when most of what the rest of us take for granted became irrelevant to him, it was what was important to him that made me realise we don't get strength from anything except ourselves and the strength within is nourished or starved by our interactions with others - but only by our choice to allow that nourishment or starvation.
He wasn't just this world to me, he was a whole different world.
The first 3 all hold the same basic tenets as I have regarding human interaction. My 4th hero, my little brother, showed me life itself. He showed me strength, he showed me unconditional love and trust and he showed me how to find peace where nobody else could.
He knew he was dying and in the latter stages of his life, when most of what the rest of us take for granted became irrelevant to him, it was what was important to him that made me realise we don't get strength from anything except ourselves and the strength within is nourished or starved by our interactions with others - but only by our choice to allow that nourishment or starvation.
He wasn't just this world to me, he was a whole different world.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Oh no.
I am unwell.
I have a rotten headache, I'm going to throw up very shortly and I have to work tomorrow.
This is going to last a week and I'm going to hate planet earth for the duration.
Expect no replies.
Anywhere.
I have a rotten headache, I'm going to throw up very shortly and I have to work tomorrow.
This is going to last a week and I'm going to hate planet earth for the duration.
Expect no replies.
Anywhere.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Stupid bastards...
...are still pissing me off.
Around the corner from where I'm currently vocationally engaged, there is a Peugeot service centre. (Yes, that's how we spell that word here.)
Anyway, the apprentice is the workshop gopher. The others traipse in every couple of days or so as well, and they are without doubt the dumbest hoard of steaming social misfits who haven't been discovered by mental health professionals and locked away in some cellar somewhere.
I've told yon apprentice how much it bugs me that he's the one they pick to go and get all the lunches. He says it doesn't bother him so I just keep the conversation away from the topic that gets my blood a tad intemperate.
Filthy bullying suckholes, I'd piss in their drinks if I could get away with it but I can't, so I smile and talk nicely to them whilst thinking of all the terrible things I could do if given free reign to do so. It should, however, be noted that I'm not a violent person by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm mischievous as hell and anyone who's known me more than 5 minutes will agree.
But who is going to end this cycle of bullshit behaviour towards the young and ambitious? It's not a rite of passage, it's the personal insecurity of bullies ganging up on the defenceless and it has been exactly the same for centuries. I refuse point blank to hear any poxy argument that this sort of treatment toughens people up and makes them stronger in the long run - that's just fucking bullshit.
It wrecks a person's self esteem and turns them into nervous wrecks who then have to struggle just to get an even footing in the world. Toughens a person up - my foot. Victims of bullies way too often end up killing themselves in despair.
Is this a personal bugbear with me? After my imprisonment at Haileybury College for 5 semesters, I'm proud to say my fucking oath it's a bugbear with me. A major one at that. And what makes that place such a nightmare memory is the fact it wasn't the kids with whom I had issues there, it was the staff who were engaged in "character building" practices. Fucking dinosaurs. I'll piss on their graves if I ever see them.
It's impressive holding grudges like that for more than 20 years I think. And isn't it odd how little things evoke such powerful memories.
Around the corner from where I'm currently vocationally engaged, there is a Peugeot service centre. (Yes, that's how we spell that word here.)
Anyway, the apprentice is the workshop gopher. The others traipse in every couple of days or so as well, and they are without doubt the dumbest hoard of steaming social misfits who haven't been discovered by mental health professionals and locked away in some cellar somewhere.
I've told yon apprentice how much it bugs me that he's the one they pick to go and get all the lunches. He says it doesn't bother him so I just keep the conversation away from the topic that gets my blood a tad intemperate.
Filthy bullying suckholes, I'd piss in their drinks if I could get away with it but I can't, so I smile and talk nicely to them whilst thinking of all the terrible things I could do if given free reign to do so. It should, however, be noted that I'm not a violent person by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm mischievous as hell and anyone who's known me more than 5 minutes will agree.
But who is going to end this cycle of bullshit behaviour towards the young and ambitious? It's not a rite of passage, it's the personal insecurity of bullies ganging up on the defenceless and it has been exactly the same for centuries. I refuse point blank to hear any poxy argument that this sort of treatment toughens people up and makes them stronger in the long run - that's just fucking bullshit.
It wrecks a person's self esteem and turns them into nervous wrecks who then have to struggle just to get an even footing in the world. Toughens a person up - my foot. Victims of bullies way too often end up killing themselves in despair.
Is this a personal bugbear with me? After my imprisonment at Haileybury College for 5 semesters, I'm proud to say my fucking oath it's a bugbear with me. A major one at that. And what makes that place such a nightmare memory is the fact it wasn't the kids with whom I had issues there, it was the staff who were engaged in "character building" practices. Fucking dinosaurs. I'll piss on their graves if I ever see them.
It's impressive holding grudges like that for more than 20 years I think. And isn't it odd how little things evoke such powerful memories.
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