Wow, i never knew this existed, Australia’s Prime Minister Robert Menzies photographed with JFK, it’s just a pity this photograph had to be with Menzies, not one of my favorite politician’s from Australia’s past. I’d crawl over broken glass to have a photograph showing Gough Whitlam in the company of President Kennedy.
PLEASE!!, i don’t want to see anymore house renovations on tv!, i’d be far more entertained if they had a show where people went in and trashed peoples homes, ‘Oh, what’s this angle you’ve taken Wendy and Steve?, you’ve gone in and overturned the glass display cabinet, snipped the gussets out of the panties, AND shit in the sock drawer? .. innovative!’.
This year i’ve had the chance to do a lot of travelling around Victoria, and i’ve seen places i’ve never been too in my many visits previously, as always with me i can be shown the most amazing wonders of nature and history, but the things that stand out for me are the somewhat ‘NQR’ people and places i come across, for eg, a town inhabited by no one under the age of 97, along with a main street where every second shop was a mobility cart show room, or the surreal campery of Daylesford, which maintains a healthy GLBTI scene, all with limited, to no coverage for Grindr. I hope to spend a lot more time in Victoria over the coming summer, here’s to the discovery of many more obtuse people, and places.
Matt and i have been friends now for i don’t know how long, we started off as pen pals when we were much younger, when you used to have to put pen on paper to communicate, and here we are all these years later, still mates, still catching up, and still communicating, tho now it usually involves text’s with attachments.
Yoko Presley and ‘Kav’ in the Let It Be Beatles green room, shortly after she was presented with a disc of her long lost demo ‘Don’t worry Sherbie, Yoko’s going to air dry the axminster’, it’s hoped the members of ‘Hush’ will reform with Yoko to overdub, and complete the song.
Being a card carrying Coulrophobic (Fear of clowns) i was recently sent into a twister of Flying High proportions. I know i shouldn’t post these photo’s, clowns are yucky, like .. ass mites* yucky, however, recently driving back from Sydney, i noticed the circus is in the park near Wolli creek, i had to drive using my knee because my hands were flapping in fear. Dirty weird clown bastards, i didn’t drive to Sydney for 6 weeks when the Moscow circus was in town, they had inflatable clowns everywhere advertising it.
Whilst in Melbourne recently, the boy’s and i stumbled into an Op Shop in St Kilda. I don’t know what came over me, weather it was the minx like forces of the Bel Ami-esque twink behind the counter showing off his bare chest and hypnotising three chest hairs, the exhaust fumes that had been feeding into the car via the opened sun roof, or maybe the preservatives i injested from the meal i gobbled in the Ikea food court, but laying on a chair in the Op Shop was an old plastic clown mask, before you could say ‘Pluck those hairs, put them in a vial and i’ll pay you handsomely’ i picked up said mask, and put it on!. Weirdly i felt anything but scared, just the opposite!, i felt emboldened, naughty, powerful, frisky and just a little bad, but bad in a good bad way. Strangely once i took it off, it all fell away. I can only assume i was in a euphemistic state of mind, and that i realised ‘One should not judge a clown until you’ve walked a mile behind his mask made of poisonous, petrochemical byproducts’, that .. or i realised i could get away with some really obtuse stuff with my face disguised.
* I have no personal experience with, nor do i even know if such things as ‘Ass mites’ even exist, i merely mention them, because on a ‘Yucky Scale’ i would assume they’d rank pretty highly.
If i close my eyes and drift off, i can still smell the heady aroma of a jar of Perkins Paste, a staple of every school kid of the seventies zip up pencil case. Oh what roads did those pre pubecent sly sniffter moments send me down in latter years.
So recently I’ve become an iPhone whore, after the initial excitement of sliding my fingers over the screen had waned, the next thing to sus out were ‘App’s’. After being responsible, and downloading the travel planner application, I of course searched out all the gay ones.
Perhaps it say’s more about me, and my marketability, but I’ve found these to be about as useful as the proverbial tits on a bull (not passing judgment on the handful of male bovines, who I’m sure would enjoy having tits), apart from skeezing around, and seeing who else in town has decided to take a shot at everlasting happiness, or a quick hand job and date finger while the better half is at ‘Thai-rific’ picking up the take away, it’s only real use seems to be how to accurately measure the lengths, and depths, of rudeness, arrogance, stupidity, and vulgarity in the digital world of App driven lust and love. All these things have there place, however it’s fantastic to have one application that enables you to collect all these things together, for statistical analysis.
I’ve learnt that Grindr is no place for basic manners, that ‘Catch up for coffee’ really means, “I want to come to your place with unmanicured toenails, and have you ravage me in five minutes”, that answering ‘How old are you?’ means you never hear from that person again, even if you’ve just been chatting as friends, that to ask for a photo from someone with a faceless profile, usually results in a pic of a badly lit penis being forwarded to you, I dunno, call me old fashioned, I enjoy seeing a persons smile before a smegmatic wang.
I’ve noticed a trend, that after nothing more than ‘Hello’, the next question is quite often ‘Do you have a dick pic?’, again, call me an alarmist, but I would probably be erring on the next question being along the lines of ‘Are you a serial killer?’, ‘Do you steal under garments from clothes lines of the poor?’, ‘Have you a penchant for defecating in the cistern of peoples homes you visit?’, you know, the important questions.
And now returning to the topic of ‘The dick pic’, you know, if you’re going to digitally display your tossel, and use it as a calling card, or as an artistic display in which to lure guys into your lustful peeny spiders web, how about exercising a little artistic quality control?, a wang is usually a difficult thing to make look attractive at the best of times, laying back, squinting an eye, holding up your iPhone on a wonky angle, and photographing said member from upside down, very rarely produces the most flattering of results*, it either captures your Smurf collection, lined up on the chest of drawers at the end of your bed, a sickeningly coloured, or discoloured bedspread, a flash of wallpaper hung in 1978, or in one photo sent to me in a futile attempt to win my heart, it strangely looked as if the person had only one nut, now I’m not a ‘Nuttist’, but if you have a full set, then don’t do yourself a disservice get your swingers well lit and positioned, unless you’re angling for a niche market. Sometimes a smear of vaseline would be better placed on the lens, than on your member.
I dunno, these fangled things, i know what the parameters of Grindr are, but I still like romance, the art of conversation, the mystery, the allure. Any willing, and capable applicants, please mail me, I promise I won’t block you.
*No such photo’s of me, can, or will, ever appear on the net, to the great relief of many I’m sure.
A true disciple knows another’s woes as his own. He bows to all and despises none.
“As long as you can find a moment of joy in even your worst behavior, it’s something to be thankful for”. John Waters 2011.
Thinking of all the people like my dad, who made it possible for us to take so much for granted, who wrestled the world back from insanity, to the point where we now extend the hand of friendship to nations like Japan, in the bigger picture that’s a beautiful and amazing thing they enabled, and i guess shows that they believed a forgiving humanity was worth fighting for.
I wish i could call this baby mine, but i can’t. Visiting a friend in Melbourne was made all the more special by my allocated play time with the above pictured Rickenbacker 12 string, it was amazing to hold, it felt so comfortable and within seconds of holding it, riffs fell off my fingers effortlessly, one day a Ricky and Vox AC40 will be mine .. i just need a sugar daddy to bridge that gap.
I think i have the German pressing of this, must get it on the Krysler three in one soon.
Found this at a record fair recently, i don’t mind saying, i wept a little tear of joy when i locked eyes on this piece of gold.
