I've got a mouth ulcer. I hate mouth ulcers. I can't eat chocolate with an ulcer.
I've got a sinus headache. It's making half my nose bleed. Stupid north wind.
I woke up this morning with spots before my eyes. Took a while to figure out the spots were moving but my eyes weren't. A Daddylonglegs walking down my arm (I can't see without my glasses). I wonder how many legs he broke when he hit the floor?
I'm still recovering from having a shower about 10.30 last night. I like a shower at night, soothes the muscles and my spine. But not if the pilot light on the hot water heater got blown out by the wind sometime during the day. I'm standing there like an idiot with a toothbrush in my mouth and soap everywhere just waiting for the hot and nothing. I can truly say I froze my tits off and every other bit I had to sluice down with freezing water.
Bless Eric the mower man who not only replaces rubbery things on toilet pipes but can crawl on the ground and light pilot lights.
24 comments:
Hello darlings (bad moon risen). I might be giving this racket a rest. Thousands will miss me -because the bum-wobble inner suburbs, full of public servants, with all their plastic merchandise, and darling new hairdos -love a man of steel.
Or what's the point?
And when Johnny goes, what will they do? For a rodent? There'll still be anxiety, status anxiety, but no one to take it out on.
Golly.
Capitalist enterprise, is the best system -all Parties agree, and the inner suburbs are Green, ha ha ha. And not short of a quid. Magistrate Rudd of course, will end up with the votes, and no man looked less like an aborigine. How distracting. Yes but when all's said and done, he looks deadly hygenic: cafe chic. That's right. Which is something to remember, when fronting a magistrate.
When fronting a magistrate, dress like a magistrate. (Good chance of getting a Bond. ha ha ha. True.)
-Robert.
Well I may as well say, laying my cards on the table, that Monday evening I dined in style. But it wasn't my fault. I just did -to please a rich associate, allow myself to be taken to a place called Monroe's in new Fitzroy street. I was hoping to see her, the lovely Marilyn, but there was barely a photo. I did get a laugh though, at how one of the lady patrons swished past on her way to the loo. Her top half was like a Colonel: ramrod straight, the rest wiggled like a pimp, caught in a headlock. "Wooh!" I said, "Here she comes again!"
It gave us a laugh, us el cheapo swine (and darlings when you're eating a plate of something costing thirty-five dollars you'll either laugh -or panic).
"I can truly say I froze my tits off."
What...right off? Shiver, rattle, tremble, thud, thud, groing, groing, off? I usually get blue tits in the garden around this time of year...never had 'em in the bathroom yet.
Well I think about St Kilda and all its dead prostitutes. And how thirty-five dollars would get you three roots and a hamburger. Or a room for two weeks. With a blocked dunny down the hall. And the heroin babes borrowing my belt to shoot up, and not giving it back. And all those yuppies dining now in an old boneyard; glitz where blondes fell dead. How sobering.
That's economics.
You bet. And locale does not a misery make. (Or eliminate.)
It just moves elsewhere.
Nothing changes.
"I froze my tits off "
By the living Harry given your 48 DDDs that would have to be a portent of the next Ice Age.
Andrew "Who said I'm the love child of Bronwyn Bishop and Christopher Pyne Nuts" Bolt is right again. There aint no global warming ... certainly the case whilst Coppertop's frozen jubblies rule the world.
Rh, in all that rhetoric you've hit a six. "he looks deadly hygenic", Best. Description. Ever.
SuperSedgwick and WonderHughes, it was the first time I've ever seen them stand up and salute.
i remember a Tollarno Boarding house, St Kilda (the place, not the team) circa 1983 .. um, am sure some things cost a little more than 35 bucks .. but ageing memory defeats me..
Hope that there are no dents in the bottom of the bathtub, JT, and mowermen are very happy to do all sorts of extras .. these days .. heh.
Dave old hick I could give you a price list for the mid eighties: everything from heroin to a fuck. Boarding houses are not rooming houses which were pissed mattress establishments, roaring day and night. The Tolarno is a posh restaurant of course, still there, and has my admiration for willing to co-exist with all that chaos around it.
(um)
(heh)
-Robert.
Yes, deadly hygienic.
A washed corpse.
Go cats.
(Could be murder done)
Ah, nice to know that the Tolarno is still there ..
and .. um .. is there a mish-mash pigskin game today? Must have missed it.
Jesus Mary and Joseph that'd be cold... and not nice at all at all
Football v Advertising.
Half Time.
Score:
Goals: 15.
Adverts: 348.
Chapman should have got the Norm Smith.
I quite like:
no man looked less like an aborigine
I agree with you Davo, every spinster should have a multi-tasking mowerman.
MC, no wonder they advocate cold showers to dampen a bloke's ardour.
Rh, do they still have rooming houses or have the latte set done away with them? There used to be a residential hotel in Canterbury, rooms by the month or year but that looked gentrified last time I went past.
Caroline, was that football or Kevvie?
My sister the punter says the Melbourne Cup is looking a bit iffy this year even with the vaccine. Not that it would matter to the Cup drunks who don't usually know which end of the horse is which.
ah the old 'pilot-light-blowout' scenario.
comiserations.
we've all gone out with a robe over a wet body to fix that one.
but only the once.
You've draught-proofed it now, haven't you?
I have a feeling it's something more radical than draughts. The little sparky thing wouldn't spark to light the pilot and ordinary matches didn't reach the pilot so he ended rolling up newspaper and lighting it with that. So now with all the wind we've had, I run the hot water before I think about showers.
My friend arrived home from a long trip to find no hot water.
Clever ants had built a home inside the pilot-light box
"Clever ants had built a home inside the pilot-light box"
Plumbers apparently make a squill courtesy of those formaldehydic fifth columnist little buggers. They once terminally shorted out an outside (electric) water heater of ours.
r.h. i could give you the price of a fuck .. beginning at about 1964 (but hardly think it relevant to the great swoop and swift of human relationships, since then)
This is what's so stupid about the pilot light. It's on the ground and falling on the ground is not something I do voluntarily so it's a bit hard to see what's going on.
It must be spring, two black spiders, in laundry and pantry, daddylonglegs in the bed, now I have to worry about feral ants.
Davo, I had to read that twice and I was sure it was free in l964.
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