It that’s time of the year, when we turn away from days past with a muttered Well, I won’t be doing that again and look forward to the bright, blank pages of the year to come. Time to lay down a few markers so that when we turn away from days past in a year’s time we’ll know exactly what we should have been doing instead of playing Candy Crush and watching The Biggest Block Kitchen Bake-Off Survivor.
You know: New Year’s resolutions.
So, with a move to a new town in a new (hotter, redder, moister, farther away) part of the world on the horizon, it’s time to make this…… flee change?…… work to my benefit. Here are five resolutions for my upcoming year, to take advantage of my new-found status as the domestic-based partner in my marriage, and help allay Luscious’ fears that it’ll all come crashing down around our ears as she dies of work-related stress and I turn into some sort of obsessively masturbating, inanimate, Jabba the Hutt-shaped, couch-based life-form.
Five For Friday: New Year’s Resolutions in a Furnished Cage
Continue reading “5 FOR FRIDAY: TO 2018 AND… WELL, JUST THAT”
Sure, we got kicked out of paradise. But sex is pretty good compensation.
“Well, it was good while it lasted. Fancy a shag?”
Merry Shove-a-Tree-Up-An-Angel’s-Butt Day, everyone.
It’s that time again. When songs about frolicking in the snow make a mockery of your heat-stroke. When everyone spends the day shoveling down roast everything with lava gravy instead of acting sensibly and filling a paddling pool with ice cream. When the average age of the family playlist is ‘deceased’.
Balls to that.
Christmas isn’t white, Bing Crosby was an alcoholic child abuser, and the Elf on the Shelf is a streak-of-piss little snitch who should be knee-capped and fed to the pigs.
Who’s up for some real Christmas music? And I don’t mean the saccharine puke extruded by the likes of Wham and Mariah Carey. I mean real music: something with guts and rhythm and an authenticity that doesn’t make you want to gun down everybody in the shopping centre.
5 for Friday: Contemporary Christmas Songs
Continue reading “5 FOR FRIDAY: CONTEMPORARY CHRISTMAS SONGS”
Enjoy your Rudolph and gravy, everyone.
Everywhere I go, I take Spike. I first bought him when I moved into a flat by myself aged 23. He’s been with me ever since. When I bought my first house, I planted him. When I moved, I took a cutting. The plant remained behind, but Spike still travelled with me. Every time I bought a house, I planted Spike. Every time I’ve moved on, the plant has stayed behind, and Spike has renewed himself in cutting form. I’ve given a cutting to all of my bonus kids so they can have their own Spike. Still, Spike stays with me.
To whit, 24 years after I first brought him home, say hello to Karratha Spike.
Three work days to go. Then it’s the Christmas break. And after that, I’ll be back at work for four weeks before we pack up our tent and trek northward for the conclusion of the 18 Month Plan and the beginning of our two-year sojourn to the Pilbara.
First of all, where the fuck did the last 18 months go?
Continue reading “WE’VE STILL GOT HEAPS OF TIHOLY SHIT!”