Saturday, October 08, 2005
I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of Ngong Hills. Sorry. (Some of you will surely know where that came from)
No, I was brung up on a farm in Gippsland, at the foot of Mt Baw Baw. The bank manager was visiting. Anything of any value was put away out of site. Mum's medicines were all locked away. Any visible sign of alcohol disappeared along with all ashtrays. A car was put out of sight. The tractor, which I suppose the bank financed was cleaned, for its only time in its life. The cow shed was meticulously cleaned. A rug was thrown over the auto washer. Some haybales were strategically arranged in places.
As we continued to live there for some years after, I supposed we passed the bank managers inspection. Bank managers wer to be feared. They had real power.
Friday, October 07, 2005
I will leave the city aborigines to the social workers, the courts, the police and the hospitals.
I don't like the idea of publicly declared dry areas, where alcohol cannot be sold to aborigines but can be sold to whities. Especially bad when one side of the river is dry and the other not and kids swim across a river to get drinks and get eaten by crocodiles.
If white fellah can buy it, why shouldn't black fellah. Are we equal or not?
I had pretty well put it all into the insoluble basket, although I have continued to think about it.
No one has come with any better ideas, so here are mine.
Firstly, opal petrol will be the only type you can buy outside of the capitol cities in Queensland, South Australia, Western Australia and it is the only petrol you can buy in the Northern Territory. The Federal Government will subsidise this.
Secondly, the Federal Government will spend a lot of money on health care of aborigines. It won't be wasted, it will be targeted, see below.
Aboriginal women's councils will be set up in every area that there are significant populations of aborigines. They will be dictators and have power over menfolk, children and youths. They can set up their own form of law courts and they will be supported by law makers and enforcers of said states.
Generally, aboriginal menfolk have failed miserably. Give it over to the womenfolk. If you have some better ideas, feel free. No one else seems to have yet.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
There were some years when I very rarely visited the city. In that time it changed quite a lot. I recall Degraves St as it is in the b/w photo and I was astonished to see its transformation when I happened across it a few years ago.
It fairly well typifies what has happened all over Melbourne. I like latte'ing with the best of them and I suppose this transformation of our city is generally is a good thing, I suppose. But there were some nice things about the old Melbourne that I miss.
Photos courtesy The Age.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Yep, I got the hat trick.
It started when I dribbled toothpaste on my dressing gown that was only washed two days ago.
Day off, clean pair of jeans, sit down at pc, and of course if you are going to slop coffee on your jeans, it will only be when they are fresh on.
Last was upending the liquid soap refill bottle in my bathroom to drain into the ceramic pump. It was sitting nicely and draining away when I left the room, but when I returned, it had shifted and there was a nice puddle of liquid soap next to the pump. Unlike spilt Pepermint Schnapps or pepper vodda, I did not lick it off the benchtop.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
It probably does ok, but it is one ugly bit of architecture. It is likely to be demolished when the area is given a makeover in the near future. An East St Kilda resident ran for local council in the last election, and lost, over retaining The Palace. This person just happened to be Molly Meldrum's manager, I believe.
You know how some causes feel worthy? Live entertainment, that is bands, don't really interest me. But I think they are worthy and the venues where they perform are worthy. I don't know how much live stuff happens at The Palace, but I suspect not much.
I went there once. The back part, and it was called Bassline. It was the only venue I have been to where my teeth vibrated. Talking was impossible. There was a chill lounge, but it's music was too loud and the music from the main part penetrated. There were some quite famous people there and they must have had better drugs than I did as we left after half an hour and oddly headed for Hungry Jacks in Chapel Street. Not sure why or what time it was.
Anyway, knock it down, restore the Palais, make the area look stylish and maybe St Kilda will attract some tourists. And get rid of the scummy poor in the area, cut off their dole and give it to the artistic poor in the area. Yep, stylish St Kilda, but with artists and musos and no freaky mental cases, incontinent old and smack heads. That might attract badly needed tourists.
Monday, October 03, 2005
I feel sad for those killed, sad for those injured, sad for the natives of Bali, and sad that their livelihoods are probably gone for a long time. It was a bit of a downer to wake up at seven on a Sunday morning after a party and listen to the radio news.
There are many to blame, too many to name, although those f***** ******* (insert religion here) comes to mind.
If only it was so simple that we could just blame a religion and not look at the bigger picture. That it incites such horrible and terrible hatred, the 'west' is going seriously wrong somewhere.
Some serious lateral thinking is needed by western country leaders. Policing type methods is quite obviously not working. Those who died in Bali over the weekend would probably agree with me.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Actually, there were only 30 on Dame M's ceiling. Matched the number of guests, as opposed those who accepeted an invite, 60, as opposed to the 90 who were invited. R is very critical, quite rightly perhaps, of sending an invite via email.
Towards the end of the night, Dame M made a wonderful speech and directly addressed to those who she considered real friends, so perhaps it was as well that it was not a huge party. Her real friends were there. We, at our junior age, would be hard pressed to rustle up 30 friends for a party. Her totally hot muso/security/carpenter great nephew attended for a while, hot hot hot, but so straight. A certain forty plus single woman fell in lust with him, as did I again.
But what about this other guy I already know? Cute, young, hot, smooth, slim. Nah, 40+, hairy, shaved balding head, masculine and he was being a bit too 'familiar'. I have English heritage and so does he, we don't touch, unless it means something.
Being the shallow queen that I am, I am just curious and like to 'do him' once. Just out of curiosity you understand.
One has this terrible confidence when one has a long term boyfriend. It is a bit rare in gay circles, so if you are not respected or treated dismissively, you can shrug your shoulders, not care, fuck you, we're off home.....together, just like we have done for umpteen years. This is absolutely no help when you meet other long term partners though. Given we had to endure a couple last night, it is at the forefront of my mind.
Better get focused. The phrase is, 'I'd do him', meaning you find someone is sexually acceptable. It paints an image for those who are not gay, of you being a sexually assertive and an aggressive penetrator.
Not so. 'I'd do him', does not necessarily mean you wish to have him spredeagled on the the bed and violate his orrifices with your manliness. It could just mean that you would like to sit on his appendage while he slaps your face with one hand, squeezes your testes with the other, bites hard onto your nipples and calls you a cock sucking whore.
As I said, it is an older term, but do not make a judgement if you hear someone say 'I'd do him'. It is a catch all phrase.
M!key tagged me who was tagged by ChikyBabe and the task it would seem is to reflect on a previous post. In this case the 5th line of your 23rd post. After a quick check of mine, I am amused.
To quote our esteemed Johnny, Hello Hello.
While you may still hear this expression, it is now a bit out of favour. I expect it came from an American tv show. It was only recently that I learnt where yada, yada, yada came from and what it actually meant.
Our supposed to be dignified Prime Minister used hello, hello when critising the opposition party I think. He sounded riduclous and embarrasing and comedy shows used it no end afterwards. I had forgotten all about it, so it is interesting to be reminded of it.