Monday, December 4, 2006

Time to Kill.

The broad had me tied to a chair in the middle of a shitty warehouse in a shitty part of a shitty town. It was time to hurt me, she said, but I'd been hurt before. In fact, I'd grown acustomed to it. What she didn't know was, this time, I was ready to inflict some pain of my own. The ropes weren't that tight. But I'd let her have her fun for a while. I'd do some screaming, shed some tears, let her think it was all going to plan. I'd get cut up, maybe lose an ear in some sort of cliched Michael Madsen moment, but on the inside, I was all smiles baby. I was twiddling my thumbs and biding my time. And when the moment came, I'd make it count.

Damn but she smelled good when she leaned in, whispered in my ear and brushed her lips against mine before BANG, the knife slid into my gut and screaming insanity like a banshee she twisted it up and around. Hurt like Hell. Had to stay focused. My mind is my fortress, the one place she can't touch. She pulls the knife out and licking the blade turns around and walks that shimmy that she does so well. I'm losing blood, I'm getting tired, it's getting blurry.

But it's still not time. Will it ever be time?

I don't think it's a good idea to watch Sin City before going to bed. Shit fucks with your head.


Conversation on Saturday Night at the Terminus Hotel while DJing:


You what?


My phone number? Why?


the Mansonest?

yeah. the mansonest...



Forget it. No you can't.


How do you make a decision that will change your life forever? What if you can't weigh it up? If yours is the sort of brain that can see every possibility, or can see none at all, how do you make a choice? Instinct is a load of hogwash, I don't think I've ever had an instinctual feeling in my life, other than once when I decided not to leap out of the tram just as a car zoomed past. So all that's left is to choose, one way or the other, and deal with the consequences, as well as reap the rewards. Because why walk down a path, if you're forever wondering what the other path held? I don't want to play the regret game any more. Not over summer. Too damn hot for anything but water fights, gin and tonics and hopefully, the feel of cool, wet skin on skin.


No one has ever called me an enigma but it wouldn't be far off the mark if they did. For sure, I'm a walking fucking mass of contradictions. And a lot of the time, in real life, I'm not the person you read on here. In fact, a lot of the time, I'm whatever you want me to be. Gets pretty tiring after a while. Think I might spend a lot more time at the beach with some books, feed the brain, nourish the vocabulary, and keep searching for that one plan that's going to get me the fuck out of here. I've been browsing cook books, dreaming of domesticity, wondering when I'll be able to afford a new bed with new linen and get some hanging plants for my decking. I'm getting real good at the huge Sunday Herald Sun crossword. It's been two days and I've got fifteen clues left. And this is the most boring paragraph I think I've ever written. Heh.

It's 26 days until the end of a really fucking crap year.

But don't let my language fool you, I'm a happy guy.
An optimist even.

And I've got faith.


  1. nice chandler, hammet, thompson pastiche there boyo. how you been? give us a phone sometime.

  2. Hehe, I think I'm in the mood for some of that at the moment. Sexy dames and cigarette mysteries. VIBE.

    Phone yes. Beer too please.

  3. That was a good instinctual feeling, don't knock it.

    By the by, do knives BANG?
    Just wondering in case I ever run up against one.

  4. I don't think they do, you know...I think they more SPLLLLLLLTFFFF. But that didn't have the same dramtic effect.


  5. If you can pay attention to a dictionary while at the beach, then you're on your way to TOTAL WORLD DOMINATION.


  6. Try dealing with those people every week for two years...

  7. I understand Ruthy, I thought I was out of working in pubs, but they keep dragging me back in.

    See you again Saturday anyhoo.

  8. Heeeeeell no. I'm at Meredith and they're going to be criminally under-staffed. Don't tell them you're a bartender, or they'll drag you behind there and make you work.