Sex, Drugs and Rack & Ruin….
I always get a thrill when I am about to log into my blog…. there is a small box sitting quietly on the bottom left hand side with a poignant statement… REMEMBER ME . I feel that this is the aspect I most adore about technology…. that when you have got up everyone else’s nose, at least your computer will remember you. Of course it ain’t going to be there at your wake, not the least because your nearest and dearest in the family will have at last death rattle, cashed in your chips as you cash in yours and be straight down to the Maserati dealer to put a booking on a Quattroporte…. but still it is reassuring that when I am land fill and the computer is too, it will still be wanting to be remembering me.
My last gasp hope will be that the wheels come off the Maserati.
How have the last three days of my life gone? Forget Saturday…..I solvent glued myself to the plumbing in the plunge pool.
Sunday brought an encore of the Supermarket shopping, and surprisingly it wasn’t too bad, BUT I was still recovering from the previous evenings booze-a-thon, I even enjoyed the piped music (not a good sign). When Smooth with Rob Thomas hit the airwaves, synchonised with the thumping in my skull, me and the shopping trolley positively ‘latined’ our way down the pet food/personal products aisle. The only glitch was not getting the BBQ chicken of choice so I tucked it into a space in the laundry detergent shelf and went back for another. I enjoy the juxtaposing of dumped deli goods around the supermarket and ponder the thought process that has some-one thinking ‘yeah chicken thighs would be great’ yet by the time they have got to the potato crisp aisle they are thinking “bugga that’s too much trouble to cook…just swap them for a family pack of Doritos”. I have noticed tho’ there is some weirdo who is always dumping stuff (usually Kabana) near the condom area of the personal care shelves.
It was Mother’s Day and I was genuinely touched by the number of children who had taken their mother to the supermarket…. ah well hope for the species.
The rest of the day I waited (in vain) for a comfort delivery.
Monday morning I hit the street early for my regular exercise walk (hahahahaha: read get rid of the hang over) tried to take some photos of the loverlies; The women up here wear some damn fine walking clothes (if we were all blind) but for some reason they seem to duck into roadside hedges a the hint of a camera…. so I am including the following clip from ‘The Zigfield Follies’ to give you an idea of some of the jogging outfits. A couple of these outfits probably made their way to Tasmania, worn by the mother and dorter, previously mentioned… who didn’t want me along on the trip, previously mentioned.
The 2.50 minute point is particularly deja vu-ish of when the women hit the street en masse. Now there is point to this francophile leaning… it ain’t no trailer park where I live (tho’ I still got the pics)… in fact where I live is referred to as the ‘Paris’ point of the street… further on it is the Paris Hilton end, and the other way the Britney Spears end….knickers optional, but one shouldn’t laugh about senior moments.
PS I have the same drapes in my bedroom, if that offers any inducement…..
Somewhere I made a statement to the effect that I would/should/could explain the raison d’etre for my blog. The couple of you who may have been transfixed by my life will by now be asking…..WTF? So last night while waiting bewtween the hours of 10.00 PM and 3.15 AM( more about that later) I decided a fork in the road maybe was the way to go ……. So I am going to divide my personality, because after all this blogging thing is an ego trip and split my blog into two distinct streams …. so for the squeamish follow me and the others follow him ( I’ll have to figure how to do that…maybe a password for the prurient) …. but it will be a bit like when Mrs Owens used to split us up for basketball …. those with shirts on over here and those with shirts off over there. “Sandra put your blouse back on and get into the girls group”. So the quintessential rant with be the G rated and somewhere in the dingier recesses of cyber space where those of little modesty hang out I will let it all hang out … the AO group (Adults Only), where I can perhaps get a handle on why my life is so fraught. Of course the two strands will cross: hey I ain’t completed fucked. Hence one will be SEX & DRUGS and the more exciting will cover RACK & RUIN.
A couple house keeping notes…. my stars never came through on ‘fabulous wealth’.. another one of my superb share investments returned a dividend of $3.78, total; not per share. Today my colour is Crystal…. whoa!! some-one knows their Dulux colour card, looking forward to ‘wind’ being a colour soon.
Now the one person who wants the redirect to the prurient blog just start the queueing…. and the missing 10.00 pm to 3.15 am will be revealed.
Ah…hello.. we are back.. loved it heaps! Missed my daily reading of this tho! Glad to see you have updated us (and mentioned us).
For what its worth…The Marines, I mean tassie devils, were devine!
Hiya toddles, I’ll bet your mom was beating them thar marines off, with a polka-dot wand. While I am sure you were on the look-out for the odd (and do they come in any other form?) new zealander.