It’s not how much you’ve had – it’s how bad you feel.

Saturday, 4 May 1996  12:30pm Yeah, yeah… in on a Saturday.  I don’t feel that I put in too good a performance this week, so I’m in here now trying to boost the week’s tally.  I’m keying the questionnaires the companies fill in and send back.  It’s not such bad work, each one’s a bit different.  You do have to use your brain a little. … Continue reading It’s not how much you’ve had – it’s how bad you feel.

Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.

Thursday, 11 April 1996  8:30pm Hey Sis, Sitting here, on a rainless night, thinking about nothing, as in not thinking nothing but thinking about nothing. I do this sometimes at work, or when I’m bored. Think of it. Nothing. No matter, so no space. No time.  Hmmm. There’s no time. I guess time doesn’t exist in a vacuum.  Time is only measurable in its effect … Continue reading Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.

They call her “Cats Bum”.

Tuesday, 31 January 1996  10:38am Hey S, just heard some news that falls somewhat short of what might be described as serendipitous.  Do you remember that fuss I worked myself up into over that girl from the Croissant Connection Cafe girl? The name they gave her here at work (everyone here gets a nickname – except me – call me Mr Teflon, nothing sticks) was … Continue reading They call her “Cats Bum”.

Columbo investigates the Swedish Postal System.

Tuesday 21 November 1995  9:16AM Hey S, Tuesday mornin’, strollin’ up Collins Street, wading through a block and a half of baby-puke stink-smell that’s swirling invisibly around me from Elizabeth to Russell Street.  I’m wearing a new shirt.  It’s an ugly blue, gonna buy another two today, maybe. Just missed Princess Di’s diatribe on morning TV.  Not sorry really, I think she’s ghastly.  Goddamned show-pony, … Continue reading Columbo investigates the Swedish Postal System.

What’s my scene?

Tuesday, 14 November 1995  1:07 PM Hey Sis, Been a few days since I’ve had time to write.  Let’s see…  Friday night I ended up going to the Esplanade Hotel in St Kilda with Nadia and her boyfriend Aaron to see a what can only be describe as a Psycho-billy three-piece band they’re called the “Fireballs”.  They all had mohawks and no shirts on. Simplistic but … Continue reading What’s my scene?

It’s as if I’m standing in the middle of life as a time-line, and I’m wondering which is more important to who I am? My future or my past?

Friday, 22 September 1995  9:10AM Woke up late, feeling groggy, still do as a matter of fact. Read more of that Sartre last night, and it’s provoking some self-examination that I think I probably would’ve been better off without. I suppose I should explain – this book “The Age of Reason” is sort of filled with this feeling of expectancy, a hesitancy and fear of … Continue reading It’s as if I’m standing in the middle of life as a time-line, and I’m wondering which is more important to who I am? My future or my past?

I refuse to go to a party where I’m the only person I know. That’s the sort of situation that leads to excessive indulgence and a Sunday of self-flagellation.

Wednesday, 20 September 1995  9:05AM Spoke to Dad on the phone yesterday, he’s offered me free tickets to the Melbourne Show. Apparently he and Uncle Beluga Big-Bum have supplied a few Jeeps for the judges to zoom around in while they check out the sheep and the cattle and the goats and the what have you. So, anyway, if I’ve got one of Dad’s business … Continue reading I refuse to go to a party where I’m the only person I know. That’s the sort of situation that leads to excessive indulgence and a Sunday of self-flagellation.

I feel like floating up and never coming back, maybe I could take up a career as a cloud or something.

The next letter I received from J was dated from 4/9/95 to 27/9/95 it was 23 pages long and just over 10,000 words, he named it “The Monster Letter”.  I have broken it down into days for posting here.   Monday, 4 September 1995  9:18 AM S, Oh God. God God God. How do I begin this one?  Maybe with a swig from the neck … Continue reading I feel like floating up and never coming back, maybe I could take up a career as a cloud or something.

It’s impractical working with extraordinarily attractive people.

Tuesday, 29 August 1995 9:37am Oh Dear S, you’ll never guess what’s happened.  Someone attractive is working here.  I mean really attractive, like Sale-of-the-Century-model attractive. This is an ill wind Sis.  I don’t want someone extraordinarily attractive swanning around the place making me feel self-conscious.  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Have you ever encountered this sort of thing in your working life?  I just wanna work with … Continue reading It’s impractical working with extraordinarily attractive people.

My backup plan: become a surfer-bum, cruising the coast with a car-full of defactoes and kids on welfare or perhaps start a pirate whaling operation off the coast of Indonesia.

Tuesday, 25 July 1997 9:11am S, Well you know I’m in a better mood this morning missy.  I’se be ridin’ that caffeine wave of goodness, surgin’ up and carryin’ me forth inta the day. Yessa.  Sorry, can’t help writing in South Carolina-speak, I’m in a good mood, and I’ve been reading the second story in that Kerouac book I bought. It’s called “Pic” and it’s … Continue reading My backup plan: become a surfer-bum, cruising the coast with a car-full of defactoes and kids on welfare or perhaps start a pirate whaling operation off the coast of Indonesia.