I change my opinions daily. I think opinions are better discussed than owned.

Monday, 27 May 1996  8:30am Howdy Sis, Busy, busy weekend.  Friday night I got really sloshed (first time in ages) and went to a farewell thing for some guy I’ve never met (Charlie was his name, thin was his hair).  As I left he looked blearily up at me from a bar stool and slurred ‘Ya know, yuur tha most fucked guy in the hed … Continue reading I change my opinions daily. I think opinions are better discussed than owned.

Sitting in Death’s Waiting Room.

  Friday, 26 April 1996 Howdy Sis o’ Mine, Still sittin’ here in Melbourne, Autumn chill closin’ in around me. Trying hard to ignore the blustery football analysis that trumpets around, usually on Monday, but today on a Friday.  It was ANZAC day yesterday, and there were a few games played.  I actually walked through the park near the MCG yesterday as the people swarmed … Continue reading Sitting in Death’s Waiting Room.

‘Pisspot’s Undoing” – A Modern Tragedy.

Monday, 28 August 1995 9:17am S, Howdy.  How was your weekend?  I’m still shakin’ the dust of activity from my feet – a busy weekend. Let’s go through it scene by scene shall we?   PISSPOT’S UNDOING (A modern tragedy) Author’s note: The following must be read in a tone evocative of the voice-overs in showcases of TV talent such as Unsolved Mysteries, Crime Stoppers, … Continue reading ‘Pisspot’s Undoing” – A Modern Tragedy.

God, she was so old, I thought she might die sitting right there next to me.

Thursday, 22 June 1995 9:06am It is so cold here today. It’s 2 degrees. Two. OK, so it’s not the loneliest number or anything but it’s close enough. It’s one of those perfectly still and clear cobalt blue mornings where your breath hangs in the air for ages. I rode one of those old W Class trams up Collins Street this morning.  You know, the … Continue reading God, she was so old, I thought she might die sitting right there next to me.

Maybe I should get a dog. Dogs have no self esteem, that’s why they’ll do anything for you.

Tuesday, 14 Feb 1995, 9:13am St Valentine’s Day. Where’s my fuckin’ cards? I haven’t got one damn message of desire, and it’s already quarter past nine. I haven’t got any faxes, letters, cards, taped messages – not even a nudey photo of someone I’ve never met but glanced at briefly on Parliament Train Station, Platform Four. What’s the deal here? There was only one Valentine’s … Continue reading Maybe I should get a dog. Dogs have no self esteem, that’s why they’ll do anything for you.

I am sick of crappy books and crappy television and crappy people.

THIS IS ANOTHER OF THE LETTERS/WRITINGS MY BROTHER WROTE FOR ME (WHILST OUR MOTHER WAS VISITING ME IN THE UK), BUT I NEVER RECEIVED IT.  IT WAS AMONGST HIS DIARIES AND OTHER DOCUMENTS I FOUND AFTER HIS DEATH, HE HAD WRITTEN “NOT SENT” ON IT.  IT IS DATED 27 FEB 1994. Dear S (Jack and Mum) What is it with Melbourne that is so horrible … Continue reading I am sick of crappy books and crappy television and crappy people.