The peculiarities of our troublesome Father.

Tuesday, 14 May 1996  8:30am Went to the “Empress of India” in Carlton.  I was meeting Scottish Lisa from work and a few other people, all of whom I’d met before (bar one).  There were seven of us, we sat around just drinking and gossiping.  I must be getting old S, I spent a Saturday night ‘just chatting with friends’ (sounds like a coffee commercial) … Continue reading The peculiarities of our troublesome Father.

Everyone was thrilled to see me in a suit, I told them I’d found a corpse.

Thursday, 25 January 1996  12:30PM S, Another day at the mill.  Grinding, grinding…  Might go straight home from work tonight, I’m short on cash and just not in the party spirit. Leah picked me up from work last night.  Went back to her place for an hour or so until traffic died down (Leah hates Flemington Road at rush hour) and then she drove me … Continue reading Everyone was thrilled to see me in a suit, I told them I’d found a corpse.

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.

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 think I might have peaked as far as socializing goes.

Wednesday, 30 August 1995 9:23am Great start to the morning, Sis.  I get in to work and there’s an invitation to a party on my desk.  Lisa (one of the other Editors here) is having a house-cooling (as opposed to house-warming party.”)  And – dammit! – they’ve given me too much notice to have a bogus excuse – “Oh sorry, the second of September?  I’ve … Continue reading I think I might have peaked as far as socializing goes.

I’ve read that beautiful chicks think that being beautiful is enough in itself, and they don’t put in any effort in the sack.

Friday, 30 June, 1995 9:30am Hi Sis, So, how about Hugh Grant’s little brush with the seedy underbelly of urban America?  Poor bloke, he’s really blown it (couldn’t resist, sorry). I feel a bit sorry for him, did you see the look on his face in that mug shot? It must be on the front page of every rag in England.  Everyone here keeps saying … Continue reading I’ve read that beautiful chicks think that being beautiful is enough in itself, and they don’t put in any effort in the sack.

I’m writing to you from the belly of the beast.

Tuesday, 27 June 1995 8:04am Good morning, At least, it is here anyway.  I’m in early, kudos to me, kudos to me.  I woke up at 5am, listened to the radio for a while, and, seized with expiatory zeal, I thought I’d come in early to make recompense for my days of wayward bludging earlier this year.  Truth is I couldn’t get back to sleep … Continue reading I’m writing to you from the belly of the beast.