i'm sorry, i ordered the vegetarian...

have i been away from the real world so long that i have missed like a WHOLE LEAP of industrial revolution married with industrial/consumer brain washing?

did someone infect the water with a drug that forces people not only to wear clothes that are too small for them, but also forces them to purchase mobile phones that double up as mp3 players, with the volume set on high, at all times whilst they sit in groups with friends and disturb the peace and quiet attempts of all those around them?

is this a cool thing for all you people who have continued living in this real world whilst i have been out god knows where, chasing girls, chasing donkeys and playing in red dirt?

what the crap?

after a night filled with bourbon and shenanigans i took a positive revolutionary step forward in sydney by making friends with a complete stranger on the train home.
i must admit, however, that it was quite difficult for us to hear each other as there were two groups of "people" upstairs AND downstairs who had their mp3s on high
could you imagine the colossal of music swirling around the carriage as we attempted to play the "get to know you game in 35mins" with such distraction floating around and in between our ear holes?

so my head wasn't the clearest and i gave all of my concentration to the cause - i must admit it was tricky...................who would have thought upon disembarking this train i would enter rave 2010 on the steps of campbelltown station

i think i shaked my arse more on the platform than what i had the night before at the gig

do these people have no shame? awareness of the bubble of personal space? should that be publicly extended to bubble of personal hearing of nothing but what you chose to hear space?

i think the worst case scenario for me was the seven year old girl with an mp3 player down her singlet, banging out full ball beyonce - whom i under normal circumstances enjoy, booty popping as she walked around and around the grounds of the station
over
and
over

and
over



again

whilst the guy across the road from us had his mp3 playing ON REPEAT : Aqua - lollipop otherwise known as candyman (i am the candyman coming in from bounty land......)

the longest 22mins of my life that i will not EVER be able to ever get back again

so this brings me to my closing point:

at what point during the great debate did they discuss the above issue, affecting millions of australians across the continent............perhaps if it was even on the AGENDA of moving forward i would have taken the time to advise the electoral office where i reside, so i too could make my vote count

unless the government issue new rules and regulations on listening to music in public places, i will be forced to take matters into my own hands

bring back walking around with tape deck stereos - preferably on ones shoulder
optional cardboard under the free arm
busting out moves out the front of fish n chip shops

optional pin ball action and street fighter credibility

my retaliation will be quite simple and to the point:
i will adopt superhero attire
and sound off perpetrators
with my big tape deck ghetto blaster
fight music with music


yes.......

jelkie's croatian cooking sufari

for each of the seven days i have been back home, the girls have taught me two meals/recipes per day

in our family the way it works is, with every recipe comes a story, so it's not just about cooking, it's about learning where the passion for certain foods, distaste, resentment or love come from

like cabbage stew. both my Mother and Father's families were very poor back in the old country, so naturally cabbage stew was a daily staple.
It's a meal they hate but love. It reminds them of shoes that were four sizes too big for them, sharing a bed with three others and herding sheep and stuff

just the sheer hint and smell of cabbage sends these memories flooding back

apple strudel reminds my grandmother of trying to put on weight, because skinny women were classed as poor and unsuccessful
it also reminds her of trying to bring a young family up in a foreign country, with minimal english talent and a minimum wage to match

funny that spinach reminds both ladies of fighting and survival?



so naturally, i've been picking the minds of not only the Mother and Baba Sex, but also my GranDIDDY-which has proven to be quite difficult as age has begun to take control over his mind


he starts off ok, talking, laughing, joking and then out of nowhere something clicks and he begins a negative and sometimes offending tangent
Baba Sex kills me. she just sits there, staring at nothing in particular.

so of course, i asked her what it is she stares at. what she's thinking in that pose

she thinks of the day they met
she thinks of the contract and musical career she passed to be with him - the beautiful ultimatum he gave her by the shores of the neretva
marrying him finally after living next door for 17 years
saying goodbye to him when he went to war
welcoming him back when he survived the war
creating life with him
moving worlds with him and their young family in search for a better life
leaving behind all she ever knew with almost nothing except the belief in him and them
she thinks of building something from nothing
of the battles of their sons addiction they fought together
of the heartache of trying to fight their daughters sickness
of the war
of losing everyone and in the end only having him
of that being more than enough to carry on

of watching albeit from a distance his Mother go down the same mental spiral


she LOVES him. could you fathom ever loving someone so much? i am without words, plain in awe
love is so much more then being thin, looking pretty and farting in the next room
love is accepting EVERYTHING and experiencing EVERYTHING with another person, allowing those things to push you closer together rather then drag you miles apart...



when i lived in croatia i spent a great deal of time with my GranDIDDYs mother. she had Alzheimer's and dementia, her health had deteriorated to such an extent that they could seldom move her from her bed.
but she just wouldn't give up. she just kept living.

i would sit with her in silence. listening as she would speak in tongues and mumble. at her moments of clarity she would grab my hand hard and look me straight in the eyes. straight through me. i wasn't at all scared.

i felt this great deal of relief for her when i was by her side. like someone was there to listen to her. does that make sense?

our living quarters were separate and at night i would scale the fences to get to her balcony and just sit outside her french doors. she knew i was there and would talk to me - screaming her story out finally.

she was the prettiest woman in that part of croatia and married by great grandfather, who was the best looking guy in that part of croatia.
he spent the rest of his life beating her, cheating on her and abusing her because he could not handle the fact that she was so beautiful

but loyal as she was, she remained by his side until he finally died of bowel cancer.

then her life begun.


in the time i spent with my great grandmother, i expanded. i learnt an unspoken language of which i continue to this day.
i can not explain it. but i feel it and think it and create with it.


she died the day after i left her village.


they refused to tell me for a week and a half



following on from that my heart hurt
a lot

i couldn't understand that a woman who had been denied the right of VOICE had once again been shut down. the one person who listened to her banned from seeing her on her way onwards - what kind of selfish human being would carry the tradition of her husband?




was that sickness the result of not being able to speak and express? did my GranDIDDY go through something similar? to an extent i suppose.



either way, it just hits home so hard. being away for so long at a time, coming back to visit every now and then. you really see how life progresses both in peoples minds, in their appearance, etc

hands change the most
then droopy eyes


i don't want droopy eyes
i want happy smiling ones




tangents.

ashpalt heart stain

walking dead
droopy faces drag along the shopping centre floor
careful not to catch in the wheels of your trolley

plus size doughnuts for plus size waistlines
i left my heart in sanfransisco
and there it stayed to wait for you
but you never came
you got distracted in katies

listen to mothers talking to their mothers
agreeing upon things they have no intention of doing
or planning
yes yes
appear i am interested - i marvelled this long ago
or so i seem to believe.....truth be it i am actually quite bad at this deception
i watch you watching nothing nodding freely
a freelance nodder
i have 3 dollars left so i place them in your slot

keep nodding

heart space big void of all feeling
shirts don't fit like they used to
just big gaping holes where things used to be
like boobs or hearts or something like one of the two
don't look me in the eye


i pull over at the side of the road
removing my fold-up table and chair
uncap the thermos and pour myself an instant coffee
yum, the flavours shoot straight up my nostrils
capilaries expand
full of blend 43 love

i am currently sitting in the midst of a revolutionary nightmare
on my right is pure country-side and on my left a highway

before me lay fresh road kill


i breathe it all in and it tastes like smoke jacket - like that jacket you used to wear when you smoked and haven't worn in an exceptionally long time
it needs a dry-clean
country spilling into cities

cities spewing into the country
doctors playing farmers
doctors wives playing with farmers whilst hubby is away

sex in the barn
sex on the tractor

turn the slasher off first





the aging process
smells like cabbage fart
i see people i haven't seen in an exceptionally long time
some of which would frown a lot so when i see them i can't seem to stop looking at those creases/indentations of life

i too wear proof of age upon my face
i like to skip


if you want my love you've got it
if you need my love you've got it
i won't fight it
i won't turn your love away - cheap trick

concrete block

it's like a void a block of concrete - so meticulously placed right at the front of my heart - it makes it impossible to make decisions i can not think i can think but there is no action what is this feeling called? a state of mind? what is this state of mind referred to in the medical encyclopedia?

don't go outside

don't go anywhere beyond the borderline - where exactly is that today? it is the perimeter of my room

no air
i have no air and i am in the biggest most open vast space in the eastern area
no air - eye scratch-scratch

take this poster advertising menthol cigarettes down - forcing me to lick my lips
and i don't even like menthol
or menthol cigarettes

rock my posture forward back
forward
shaky hand

marvel the power point
how so many sockets can fit so abruptly
1,2,3,4 powered materials running off that one strip - my mind can not comprehend
i am allergic to electricity the fear of the zap and blackened index finger

thought to shower venture onwards out of bubble hard going digestion
can she do it?

i want to stand in your shadow walking down the side street so the extremities of the world will be tricked momentarily into thinking that my form is just an extension of you
but it is not and i am afraid that i have no other option than to shower and venture into said world

chest tighten i wish i could wear white sometimes but i am afraid that colour would attract too much attention
i apply my camouflage make up 2 x 2 fingers at a time and when i am done i look like i am auditioning for black hawk down
the sequel
i want to star as the extra

.i am the extra sipping tea in my fold up chair i jiggle the tea bag nuemours times to reach my full effect
i am not impressed by the way the stage is set up, though i take to it nonetheless
evil canneries fly about aimlessly so as to emphasis the point more over
what exactly is the point right now?
wondering down the street in your shadow
monkey magic black hawk down
shaky hand caress a menthol cigarette advertisement advertising cancer
i know what it is to be surrounded by people with emphazema and it's really distrubing
breathe into a straw
breathe into a paper bag
breathe into my lungs

the star of this show

is the yellow cannery

sshhhh it's quiet

and that's how we like it


cut the veggies
pick the eggs up

water the gardens
pull the weeds out

wear a flannie all the time

check the water level
empty the wheel barrow

chop the wood
have a cup of tea

fix the hole in the fence where the fox gets through
put a trap in the other one

have a shower watch the water turn brown
not too long under because of water restrictions

sit down on the balcony
read a book till the sun goes down

put the fire on
put the trackies on

heaven

--

i visit baba sex this evening. am not really looking forward to it.

it could be because i am allergic to croatians over 58years of age



they do the complaining thing about EVERYTHING....example: (insert croatian accent)

kud u belif dat de tuuuna vas .05c cheeeepa et voolworthsa - so i gota de tuuuuna, tuk him bek an aski refun - i cally dem commo bastards, ov kurse

ahhh i tinki i ava veri bed illness
what kind of illeness is that?
ooooh veri bad veri bad
yes, so what kind of illness?
i dunno, but veri bad
could you explain your symptoms baba?
ahhhh yes very hurti in the bum
...........




off to baba's i go.

The changling

a few realisations have hit home for me over the last few weeks, and i find that i have come home with much angst

it's all bottled way down in the centre of me though, of course. so i walk. i walk around the perimeter of the farm. i walk around and around. i only run when the ram is chasing me

it's funny how much closer you become to your family when you are away from them for so long. the intuition and bond seems to become almost water tight.

i have so many things inside of me that when i open my mouth nothing comes out. my words can't decide which are bigger, more important or interesting enough to be injected into the atmosphere first. i hope i don't get cancer from the lack of movement in my words






my mother has finally recognised that i don't allow myself to get into a proper relationship because of the wog guidelines. and for the first time in my life, has finally said that she wants me to be in a relationship - which ever sex, because she wants me to be happy.

and im not quite sure what to do with this. after being the other for so long and learning to cut off before anything had even begun, because i knew there would be no point.i don't know if i can *click* just change like that ........ am i too old now to change? to want to let go of barriers, standards - stupid hang ups and just like, settle down with someone

how do you settle down with someone?

how?

settle..............i don't know about the word settle. or the word down. then of course, putting those two words together, next to each other, just like that...settle down - makes a shiver run down my spine

hmmm.....i was chatting to mother about what a personal add for me might read...this is kinda what we came up with:

"Interesting character seeking grounding artistic type who knows when to go away and knows when to stick around. someone who is willing to ignore social retardedness, even adore it - preferably the latter. seeking someone who cooks well but will not put on weight. someone who can live out of a suitcase for extended periods of time and likes to move around a lot. someone with superb shimmy skills and can socialise well with others while i freak out occasionally."

please forward all applications c/o: my mother, for the 2nd round of interviews/demonstrations. the second round will be an evaluation of your cooking skills and conversation techniques whilst cooking. should you be crap at doing two things at once i urge you not to apply.

............back to the walking..........

patriciaanne.com

me in 20 years time


if i start smoking pot RIGHT NOW

and continue to do so as of this moment forward.....wow........i can not even begin to transcend

um

...ok,

last day out bush 2mro







just had "drinks" at the pub............ran away as per usual social retardo

going back to sydders 2moro to work on my fishing and wog routes




















am very drunk right now after being on extend detox plan







2mor is the first day of non smoking

running around on the farm, planting stuff and pondering the next big move







i want a winnebago

i want a sun lover]

i want a smile in the ocean at all times












i want to be transit not stuck non stick teflon

no no non onono nonononnonoooooooooooooooooooooo teflon pls

abducted

last night, in my dream time - i had been abducted by an "abduct er-er" who's company i actually really enjoyed. i didn't even realise how many days and nights i'd been "taken" for - because i loved the conversations with the abduct er-er........i even found him quite dashingly handsome...

then...

kyle sanderlans "saved" me from said abduct er-er, entering the hotel room, plucking me from the hideout and placing my abduct er-er in jail quite swiftly *just like that* **click**

i remember feeling sad feelings as kyle walked into the room, for two reasons

one: how dare my subconscious re-produce images of kyle sanderlans

two: as if kyle sanderlans could over-power ANYONE - what on earth were you thinking BRAIN?!






i am seriously ready to go home now.

i need to sleep. i really need to sleep.
the lady that has taken the donga next to me keeps walking around in her high heels until all hours of the morning....i wonder if she has some kind of dis-order that forces her to keep her shoes on or if she is practising brittney spears back-up dancer moves for her next post-rehab stint world tour



i believe i can fly
i believe i can touch the sky

kaka

hair dryer died this morning.....there is no point to anything anymore

tumble weed blows past my orrifice window as i type away with tears in my eyes...thinking of all the good hair days my dryer has helped me obtain



with only a handful of days left out here, i contemplate running away early to avoid having to go through the motions of the rest of the week with crap hair



there is no god................

mel gibson

sexy

i'm taking notes on how to treat the mother of my children.

i actually met a guy over here that reminds me of mel.

he grunts at me - that's his way of "courting me"

a reconstruction of events, if you will:

M: Oi

J: excuse me? are you referring to muah?

M: yeahhhhh. why didn't you come out last night? you said you would and my mates were gonna get you to get with me

J: ahh, your mates were going to get "me" to "get" with "you?" How would that even be possible?

M: oh they have their ways

J: what like, rohypnol?

M: what? whats that?

J: ROW-IES?

M: yeah, anyway you should get with me

J: (imagining neanderthal dragging supposed "jane" back to the cave for a rump in the woods) yeah, ok............gotta go mate

M: come on man, just because your croatian and i'm serbian doesn't mean we can't get it on

(get it on..........?!)

J: no, that's right....HOWEVER, the fact that your such the gentleman kinda has more bearing on that conclusion

M: what?

J: which bit?

M: you use big words

..............oh my god.......

murmur

*insert vibrating noise here*

heart thumps
beep beep
beep beep
not a sound to confuse with a toyota echo, more mack truck than anything

watch you skull down bottle for bottle
slur your speech and vaporise my cheek
trip upon flattened ground though it appears such rocky terrain in your eyes

snuf your snufalafagus
imaginary friend
bound hands are tied untoward
bound hands are tied to the bottle

ash falls from your cigarette into your drink
cascade it down i watch it fall
like slow motion

gulp it up not waste a drop
touch my shoulder
touch my shoulder

grab my shoulder
nails dig in and pierce my skin

it tastes like vodka
it tastes like dis-ease
it tastes like vodka
cherry cola

i can't believe it's not butter
so i drive when i'm drunk
just to get away from you - slow down when i pass the police station
slow down when you tell me your dying

i can't get that image out of my head
you fall into the door jamb
everyone laughs at you. your daughter pours another drink for herself

its 13 years old and counting
liver hurts just watching
it tastes like vodka
it tastes like cherry cola

seriously.....people

i know

lets put the numbers 2012 in one box

and

within the next 10 years? in another


ALL HAIL OCTO-LOVE

wtf is with this psychic octopus anyway?

seriously though, every time i turn on the television it's there. i know it's real because the backpackers saw it as well.
the camera shot is always focused up close whilst the octopus is wriggling around, german flag in the background - apparently it picks the games they win/lose.
psychic
...

anyhoo it makes me feel uncomfortable.

speaking of uncomfortable...i ate half a plate of cabbage last night. . . . i knew what the consequences WOULD be, whilst consuming said cabbage - BUT it had been soooooooooo long since i'd had it and it tasted JUST LIKE my baba sex's cabbage......so i consumed ALL of it...

i woke up this morning and thought there was something wrong with my vision...but no...it was just the ridiculous amount of gas that had been expelled into my room

i have no fucking idea how i am going to get through today.

i am actually really glad that i will be outside for the most part cleaning up after the storm.

ye see...it's things like THIS that make me realise why i am still single.

........................................................................................

if i was walking down the street and bumped into myself, i would totally grab me by the hand, spin me around kiss myself on the cheek
then i would give myself my phone number, ask me to call me whenever i felt like going for a lacto-free milkshake and then do the shimmie, walkie away backwards, with that look of enchantment/i'm totally going to be awesome to you look in my eye

meanwhile, back at the mining lodge...

so the governement workers have commenced their work-out sessions at the gym. you should see them, like little pigglets on the walkie-machine

after they work out they go straight to dinner and then eat heaps of cream desserts.

i make a point of asking which dinner items are low in fat whilst standing at the bainmarie

they hate me, it's obvious. i don't hate them though, i just don't UNDERSTAND them.
there is a slight wanting to understand them, however i just can't concentrate, am void of all patience when they do start talking to me.

i seriously think i am a employment-status-racist

...



my affair with the serbian and the chef is pending further investigation . they just bore me. maybe i do have asperger's.........i'm really not that great at identifying mathematical equations, et cetera et cetera though......perhaps i have just misplaced a important part of the human body, usually referred to as "feelings" which isn't really part of the human body, per say more of the human emoticon.


perhaps i left them in my bottom bureau drawer.


--------


now finally, to end with an extract from the google itself (on one butt cheek bigger than the other)


So there you are, checking your arse in the mirror as you do each night, when suddenly you realise one butt check is bigger than the other.

Cold clammy hands and beads of sweat form on your forehead. Panic! You are due on stage to show off those rock hard glutes in only a few months.

Breath deeply and relax … help is at hand!

Korean designer Yoon-Hee Kim says his right butt was larger and much more powerful than his left butt so he designed the balance chair.

Sitting on this chair requires you to utilise your botty muscles equally to keep your balance. Why? Because inventive Yoon-Hee has put the seat on a pivot. If you don’t fire up the old booty muscles, you fall off.

And Yoon-Hee? Well, his butt cheeks are now equal sized thanks to the chair, and he has retired a rich man to show them off on the beaches of the Bahamas.
refer to pic at top of post please.................

butch (ah) jelkie

after pondering over the butcher conversation......i've come to the following conclusion:

what if they meant the tall skinny blond butch-girl
and NOT
the tall skinny blond butcher

i'm mortified
embarrassed
horrified
perplexed

what would have given them the impression that i was butch?

surely extremely feminine women chop trees down, empty rubbish bins, fix gutters, walk on roofs, play soccer, put together beds and chop up fire wood ALL THE TIME!!

i learnt all that stuff at my june dally watkins deportment school anyway so if they want to get all la-di-dah i will bust out my devonshire tea moves on them - that will really fuck them up

wtf is wrong with everyone...........??

ps: all the fatty's have started going to the gym.....................pps: the internet has advised me that it IS quite normal to have one butt cheek bigger then the other

oh crap stix

worst case scenario.....being out bush amongst a population of 1000 people is NOT being attacked and left for dead - my loved ones left to ponder what happened to me....no no...

worst case scenario is that my hair dryer will die out here.

it started cutting out. honestly, if my hair dryer dies, i seriously think i will have to break my contract.

what will i do without root boosting hot air flowing through my locks?

flat hair a no-no...and i can not donn a beanie two days in a row...thats just like wearing your socks two days in a row - not ok (even if you do turn them inside out)

this morning i thought that perhaps the post office (that is also the bank, the mobile phone dealer, the confectionery store, the video store, the semi-supermarket and local gossip shop) could have one on hand, then i remembered memorising their product line the other day

the product line consisted of:
4 x shredders of toshiba brand

7 x printers, also of toshiba branding
tin tea sets x 3

googly eye sets - appeared to be in possession of at least 12 sets

and a whole lot of other random stuff that you could NOT possibly need/use or want in the australian outback

fingers crossed this blower lasts another week and a half - otherwise, this lifeless haired jelkie may be on a plane home (where the fuck is that?) sometime soon.

elephantitus of the right butt cheek

oh lord.

i discovered it three nights ago, actually. i was doing those reverse bench up things and noticed my right arse cheek appeared "longer" then my left butt cheek.

I presumed it was the dodgy mirror that seems to have been neglected after a circus pack down many moons ago, left behind for the camp to use in the gym, making people appear longer and quite retarded...once upon a time for shits and giggles, now only to lure those stupid enough to believe the reflection in the gym mirror into a wicked life filled with slim fast shakes and dirty dreams of rubbing lamingtons in between your....

ok

so ever since i noticed my right arse cheek was somewhat elongated i have been walking around holding my arse - feeling the difference between my two cheeks for scientific reasons and also because my arse does feel pretty good.

anyway

so my initial reaction was that i was perhaps some kind of freak of nature

then i thought it may be a reaction or action as a result of lady loving or loving in general - or maybe it is that i stand in a funny position, resting too much weight on one side and not enough on the other - perhaps i have been performing my butt toning exercises of the last ..... 30 odd years in the wrong manner, thus creating a longer, more Pilate's type tone on to my right arse cheek and a more, "Croatian" toned arse cheek, applied to my left.

and then i started thinking that perhaps that whole thing, ye know, the thing about one boob being bigger than the other one, maybe that applies to butt cheeks as well.

after closer inspection of my breasts i am able to confirm that my right boob is bigger than my left.

not longer. wider

and now im just sitting in this confused trance like state, trying to place other parts of my body in some type of order, so i can start measuring them and comparing them to each other.

i don't want to do it tonight because this is seriously going to keep me up all night

but then if i do it tomorrow i am going to be frantic and hyper active at work, waiting for the day to end so i can go back to measuring myself.

jeeeeesus.

im going to time myself - how long will it take me to get my butt cheeks back to the same size....or at least a similar size to each other....?

i'm going to do some research on this, elephantitus (?), wog bum and obsessive compulsive disorders.

peace

excuse me.......talkie talkie conversation

G: are you the butcher? says government worker #45

J: what? me? the BUTCHER? says a still half asleep jelkie........

G: yes, yes the butcher...my work mates told me to speak with you, the butcher, about organising a car........

J: let me get this right lady...you have worked with me for the last two weeks, seen me in the office, cutting down trees, working with the peeps and watering the gardens and you think i am the butcher who can organise a car for you?

G: yes...that's right

J: have you ever seen me with a meat cleaver?

G: no, come to think of it...i have not...

J: well then, i think that answers your question. anyway, what kind of talented butcher can, at the same time cut meat and arrange cars for people...?

G: hmm, im not too sure...*insert long pause*
*keep the pause going, now bordering on uncomfortable*
right...well in that case, do you know where i can find the tall skinny blond girl who is the towns' butcher?

J: omg....seriously? it's 5am in the morning and i clearly haven't even started on my coffee and you are asking me to track down my doppelganger?

G: your what?

J: doppelganger

G: you have a twin?

J: what?

G: a twin?

J: what? no. are you okay?

G: what?

J: ooooooooooooh-kaaaaaay?

G: okay what?





.........





.............



an extract of ONE of the intelligent conversations i had this morning....

busting out

so,

after crossing the specific ocean i enter australian waters
rickety boat, lucky i made it

then, i spend 5 months in a 4.5 star hotel in brisbane, finally to be shipped out in the middle of nowhere

enter middle of nowhere

here i am in the middle of nowhere, sharing quaters segregated with those of another race
my children play with their children in the dusty grounds
security guards dubbed minders play along when they are not sleeping
not that often but often enough to get in some volley ball

i whisper into one of my children;s ears
off my child goes to a group of segregated minors
blood flies in the air
mixing, eventually with the dirt lay about

this is now my reason, my excuse to jump in
venting my racial obligations to my fellows captains
segregate my segregation
my wife looks on in horror and my daughter runs to the trees

i've journyed thousands of miles to this continent, to escape race wars
only to find myself fueling fires of my own

how shall i adjust to the rest of the world of oz?
the largest multi-cultural society rest upon the sea
and i can't even share my dog box with 48 people of a different race

what the fuck
disgusted

PULL!

today i am going clay target shooting. the gun club is located adjacent from the "tip" which houses rubbish such as:

asbestos

tyres

everyday trash

i wonder if asbestos could qualify as everyday trash - maybe in some parts

yesterday i conducted a la photo shoot at said tip. i also dabbled in photography posing in front of the asbestos pile

today i fear i may have contracted legionaires dis-ease, however i am not too savvy on the subject, don't know if i was exposed to it for long enough.

there are millions of crows at the tip. the tip is basically a gigantic bit of rock that has been removed from the earth (perhaps an ex mine) - it looks......actually looks quite amazing.

there is a constant fire that burns there and the crows just kind fly around the smoke and make it look insane.

i really like the tip.

can't get enough of it. i keep "maintaining the gardens" here and lobbing trees down, piling my hilux up with branches so i can keep going back to the tip.

on the way back to town there is a sign that asks you to : "kindly dust your wheels before entering town"

this is a town built on dust and gold

iron ore and asbestos

dust your wheels.................................................

the last time i went shooting was in croatia. we lined up tins of beer (which we drank) and i fired at them, hitting most of them.

i then made the mistake of jumping around with the loaded gun in my hand and inadvertedly kept aiming at my cousin who took me, who then had to tackle me down because the chances of me accidentally shooting him and killing him were quite high.

i have never been shooting since

hopefully i don't do the same again.

i am going there with patricia anne, my bff here in leonora. the 60 something pot smoking eratic lady that reminds me of me in 20 odd years time

more on patricia anne and clay shooting later...............goodbye cruel world.

motivation and other great tools

i remember when i was seven, i commenced working weekends with my Father as his "bricky labourer" (generous title for a seven year old)
my role entailed the following:
setting "marenda" (Croatian morning tea/brunch) consisting of: gherkins, pate, salami, coffee, bread
preparing lunch: sandwiches, left overs and coffee
shoveling random bits of sand to random areas
passing bricks
making sand castles
packing up the lunch box and tools

i worked with my Father whenever I didn't have any sports obligations and up until i began going through puberty, gaining the attention of men of the job site (finally i started looking more like a lady and less like a little boy) ....... puberty finally kicked in at 17.............

during those years i picked up many traits from my Father and learnt many valuable lessons, ie: don't put a cat in the concrete mixer; rabbits are NOT friends with bricks; track suit pants on 35 degree days are not ok; it's never too early for beer and never too late for coffee; never burn your bridges; portaloos are disgusting - hold on till you get home; and always ALWAYS eat bread with your meals - carbs ARE your friend

i also learnt how to construct mortadella sandwiches whilst driving

the most important thing i learnt though, or rather inherited from the Father was his work ethic.

yesterday i wanted to do horrible things to lazy people.

perhaps it's the WAAAAA mentality? hmmm, not too sure.

there were thre of us in the orifice yesterday...yes THREE. for the most part of the day my co-workers spent large portions of their time on facebook. the rest of the time was spent eating, talking, taking "tea breaks" and staring at the wall.

i am quite staunch when i am in charge, so i felt a little odd yesterday. i delegated as much as i thought was within my role and spent the rest of the day finding odd jobs for myself to do, hinting to my co workers to join in. alas, they did not.
let me paint a picture of my day for you...

yesterday i:

worked on the gardens
sang to my tomato plants
cleaned out a tattooooooo guys room
did NOT look through his pornos
went to the post office and sang to the ladies that work there and then impersonated tom jones with"its not unusual to be loved by everyone..."
did NOT stare or giggle at the aborigine midget
filed
filed
filed
filed
filed
cleaned rooms
drove around leonora in my toyota hilux

to give you an idea of how angry i was with the sloths i work with, allow me to reconstruct motivating sentences which were emitted from their mouths when i asked them to do stuff:
yeah, i will help, just let me finish creating my ultimate dream team on the internet
not right now, i am playing solitaire
salad? no, i was thinking should i get a sausage roll or meat pie
no, that half an hour i spent looking for lunch, that wasn't actually my lunch break
no you can't email stats to head office right now because i am msn messaging my friend in london
what? clean? why? its dusty here anyway because of the mine...
but we work in the office, why would we water the gardens? i might get dirty

i suppose at the end of the day i shouldn't REALLY complain. they are paying me well just for being here, however i still feel obliged to beat the crap out of them.

i suppose i feel sorry for the boss. she's similar to me but nice.
in saying that i mean, too nice to her employees - but she knows her shit.

what to do what to do.................can't wait to tell you how today goes cyber land.

joy