SUMMER WAR...

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Stung by Scorpy

Sorry I haven't been around a lot of late but I have been really busy settling into my new job and town. I will get back to you all...but...I thought in light of the recent events in Australia, I would resubmit a post I wrote a few years back...enjoy :)

It started mid afternoon as the day has been unseasonably hot, even for the sub tropics. There has been little breeze and the heat has crept slowly higher as the day grew longer.

I sit here now and watch the result of the heat, seven years of drought, an over zealous environmental lobby, unrestrained undergrowth, and a tinder dry National Park.

In better days, it is a tropical paradise in the foot of a valley, nestled below a mountain range and protected by the native bushland….but today it is a different place. A beast has been unleashed from the mountains and valleys beyond, if left unchecked it will devastate paradise. We knew it would come and now that I sit in the shadows of the day it’s ferocious light marches down the slopes. It dances along the ridge tops and jumps from tree to tree, an unbroken line cascading ever downward toward the valley and our homes. It sends it’s herald before it, pervading our homes, our clothes our lives. It’s acrid stench ignite ancient receptors in my brain which instantly recognise it for what it is. The response of fight or flee is very strong. Should I preserve myself by running to safety or stay and fight putting my life at risk? The herald will be joined soon by the vanguard – the foot soldiers, floating in the breeze, will set off smaller skirmishes, drawing resources away from the main battle yet to come. The ferocious force is now standing as tall as the trees and mesmerises all that watch. Who will fight the beast? Will anyone be able to repel the onslaught?

At the head of the valley, stand a small group of volunteer and full time warriors. They are clad only in leather, plastic and cloth and hold weapons of cloth and metal, which drip, in their tight hands. They carry backpacks and rakes, shovels and flails. Their heads are helmeted and their eyes shine bright above cloth protected faces. They will stand and wait and shout encouragement to each other. Reinforcements will arrive and the weary depart as the night draws on. They will sleep when they can and join the fray with little rest….but they will defend until there is no hope left and they will fight on, against the odds. I’ll join them soon for I am one of them. We will stand in the dark and fight the light. We will protect those who cannot protect themselves. We ask no favour - only support. It has come. The war is now and it is called…

.

.

…Bushfire!

Midnight.....

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Stung by Scorpy

The night was quiet and lit in a patchwork of light and dark by the moon filtering through the trees. We strolled along beneath their canopies, along the pathway, beside the river. It had been a great night with fantastic people and a few too many drinks. We were to catch a cab home but she suggested a moonlit walk and before I could object she had grabbed my hand and pulled me after her. The river looked so peaceful, the air smelt fresh with a promise of rain. She smelt even better and the river and the moon paled beside her. I knew what I wanted to do but this midnight interlude had changed all of my debauch plans. At least I thought they had. She had plans of her own.

We continued along the pathway until we reached a BBQ area, normally reserved for families and picnic blankets. We had neither but the grass was soft and the dew had not yet started to form.

She stopped and turned toward me. Grabbing both my hands she pulled me toward her as I encircled her body with my arms. I drew her face to mine and slowly kissed her tasting the Vodka and Gin. She was a cocktail waiting to be stirred. She closed her eyes and emitted a slow cat like purr as I withdrew my lips. We slowly, collapsed to the grass bed beneath us and eagerly set about removing our jeans. There was no languid striptease here. It was all wanton, lust and desire.

Zips slipped, buttons popped, belts snapped.

There was torrid heat and passionate wetness. Her breathing accelerated, her back arched, her legs parted as I slid a finger into her. The warmth was overwhelming. My finger was on fire. I grew harder just thinking of making love to her but we were past making love, we were moving into straight out, unadulterated, hot, steamy, wet, sex.

I finally pulled her jeans off so I could get between her legs, she wrapped them around me and skilfully pulled me toward her. I took hold of myself and rubbed her clit with the head of my cock. She squirmed and moaned so loud I expected someone to come looking. I slowed her down and gently pushed her back onto the grass. I kissed her neck and slid my hands to her waist as I thrust forward and slid my cock into her, in one solid push. We were past the tantalising, bedroom sex that we were used to. This was raw, unabated, skin tearing pleasure and pain. She gasped and held me tight as she contracted her pelvic muscles. She smiled and hooded her eyes as she released me and allowed me to continue our journey. We drove hard into each other as our passion became unbearable and the thought that we may soon be discovered drove us further over the edge.

I gasped, and she understood, as she pulled me even tighter and gripped my face as she kissed me and burnt my lips with her teeth. Her muscles tightened, as did mine, as I came with such force that my breath stopped and every muscle in her body tensed as she received me.

I loved her before and now that we were on the let down from our love I felt protective and full and so very happy. I slowly dressed her. I slowly kissed her and I held her as I bought her to her feet. We walked toward the taxi rank as we held each other’s hand.

loved her then and I still do. She is the mother of my children and even after four years apart I think of her nearly every day and the things that went wrong.

I love my experiences. I love all the women I have loved and look forward to many more.

NEW DIGS...

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Stung by Scorpy

(Just Click to make it bigger) Yes, I'm back. I have been without Television or the Internet for nearly a month as I've moved into my new house. I've travelled about an hour and a half from the coast and deeper into the harsher interior of Central Queensland. This is deep cattle country but also holds the richest coal reserves on the planet, so mines abound as do the associated businesses surrounding this industry. The money is ridiculously overwhelming and the job challenging but I absolutely love the change and the surrounds. No traffic lights, No traffic, Native animals and birds abound, The sky goes on forever and everything seems to take on the outback, laconic life style of the bush. The LLs come out this weekend and they can't wait to see my new place and their new bedrooms. I should have done this years ago but I did not want to be away from the LLs during their more formative years and I would have missed out on a lot of their school events and sports. I think it was important to me and more importantly them that i witnessed and took part during important events of their childhood. I'll miss being able to slip down to their school on a Friday afternoon to watch them play sport but they are better placed now to understand the need for me to move. It took a lot of discussion and promises that I was not moving away from them and that we would still see and talk to each other regularly...but...they seem happy with it, at least for the time being. It is still early days. I decided to put up a few pics of where I now live. I'll be back.

START ANEW...

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Stung by Scorpy

On the 10th of October I finish at my current employ. I have been fed up with their vision and culture for far too long. It has been a downhill spiral for many years but I have persevered... until now. I dabbed my toe into the employment river and was swept away on a current of offers. I settled on a position in one of the world's largest mining conglomerates. I applied by sending in a resume of one page which listed my past jobs, skills, education and knowledge. It was short but informative. I hate those resumes that meander whilst espouse the supposed virtues of the applicant, without actually saying anything. Short and to the point is my motto. I submitted my resume via the Internet an hour before it closed. I was contacted three days later and we had a phone interview the following day. Two days after that I was asked to drive down for a face-to-face... but... half way through the interview the interrogators stopped and chatted amongst themselves. They then offered me a more senior position overseeing the position I had originally applied for... but I had to go onto the shortlist again as they had only advertised it that very day. I thought about and took my chance. They thanked me for an excellent interview and I drove the hour and a half back home. The following day, the manager of a company that does business with us offered me a position for a lot more money than I am on now plus a new 4x4. I said I would think about it and then took him up on his offer the next day. he was very happy as he knew me and didn't have to go thru the interview or advertising stage.... then out of the blue yesterday - two days after the job closed - the mining conglomerate sent me an email saying I had been accepted and attached a contract of mammoth proportions. I rang them and said how could they have interviewed the other shortlisted applicants. They said they didn't shortlist anyone but me but had to wait until the advertisement closed. I was between a rock and hard place so I slept on it. This morning I rang the mine and accepted their offer and told my friend that I would not be accepting his. it was hard to do I have let him down but I said I had to do what was right for ME!
So, I am now moving away from the coast about an hour. They have offered me 50K more than I get now, a work car, a subsidised furnished apartment, an extra weeks annual leave plus annual bonuses (last year it was 10K)
Tomorrow, I start sorting my gear into Charity, Sell, Store and Dump...anyone got any packing boxes? :)

PS: I'll still see the LLs on our allotted weekends and holidays ,plus we have email and phone calls - No amount of money could drive me from them!!!

BOMBS AWAY....

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Stung by Scorpy

The creek had been dammed, detoured and drained so that repair work could be undertaken on the old wooden bridge. It dated back over sixty years and had seen better days. Once the water had receded and the muddy bottom exposed it showed the devastation of the watercourse and the tragic habits of its human neighbours. It was littered with the rubbish of society: bicycles, washing machines, shopping trolleys, tin cans, car tyres and a myriad collection of an uncaring and disposable society.

A throng of council workers set about removing the car bodies, plastic bags, street signs and other discarded material from the gooey, black mud. This was an arduous task as the mud sucked off their boots and sapped their strength. The mosquitoes streamed in, like flights of dive bombers, converging on unprotected skin to suck eagerly from the perspiring mob of workers and volunteers. It was going to be a tough few days as the river was bought back to a pristine state to await the return of the clean water. All the while, workers laboured tirelessly on the repairs to the bridge and its footings.

At ten, in the morning, of the third day all effort suddenly stopped and the army of workers was pulled back from the front. Something had been discovered near the centre of the bridge. It lay within throwing distance of the main span. The morning sun glinted of the metal object.
It looked out of place.
It was out of place.
An aluminium suitcase, as used by photographers, lay open with its contents sending fear into the locals. Police were called in and the area cordoned off. Messages were broadcast on local radio stations warning residences of the imminent danger.

The innocuous, glinting, silver case was in fact a bomb.

Strands of electrical wire and a timer could be seen beneath the debris that still hid part of the case. It had lain hidden under a large tree branch and was only noticed as the cleanup crew grew closer the bridge itself. Organic material was the last material to be removed from the water course.

It was time to call in the experts and this case it was the Royal Australian Navy, as the local police did not have a Bomb Disposal Squad and the Army crew were at least six hours away.

The Navy Ordnance crew were called out with sketchy detail. They were told that a bomb had been located beneath the old bridge, on the north side of town. The Navy pair was not worried as they had been on countless call outs for ‘Bombs’ and they usually turned out to be a false alarm or a routine pick up and disposal of a spent aircraft flare that had washed up on a local beach. They checked their equipment and cruised off in their Land Rover and specialist trailer. They secretly wished that they had the same privileges as Police with a bank of flashing lights and sirens but alas they had neither.

Arriving at site, they were escorted by Police to the edge of the creek where large planks of wood had been laid over the mud, making a pathway that led to the suspect item. They could see it but not fully identify it so they walked to the centre of the bridge and looked down at the object laying a mere thirty odd feet from the span. They assessed the scene.

The case was aluminium,
It was open,
Coils and strands of different coloured electrical wires,
Several clear glass jars containing clear liquid,
An analogue timing device of some sort,
A device with a handle,
Several small unidentifiable tools – possibly jewellers screwdrivers, and


A ball of material that looked to be Plastique explosive embedded with several wires that led away below it….

Shit!! They both thought as they looked at each other. This is the real deal. This is a bomb!

They walked back to the command point, operated by the police, and soon found out that they had also discovered several rifles buried in the mud next to the case, when they were laying the walking boards over the mud. These rifles had been removed for forensic testing.

The group discussed their options and it was decided that they needed a closer look at the ‘Bomb’ as it had obviously been underwater but could not have been there for very long. The Navy needed to assess it before calling for a larger cordon and backup. “Could they move it or blow it in place? What would a controlled detonation do to the immediate area? What det gear would they need?” All of these thoughts, among others, ran through their collective brains.

This is when it got personal. The senior Navy guy turned to his subordinate and said.

“You will have to crawl out on the boards and investigate the suspect IED. Write down what you see and report back here to the command centre”

“What are you going to do?” asked the young sailor

“I’m waiting here of course. No use all of us getting blown to bits” replied the Petty Officer with a smile, showing bravado in front of the constabulary. “You’ll be right son. Just do your job” he said sotto voce as he helped him on with his webbing gear.

The young man settled to the task and walked the lonely track back to the river bank. He lowered himself down onto the planks and started to crawl toward the bomb. He had to crawl to spread his weight more evenly over the surface as the mud was still very deep and clingy. So there he was… slowly, crawling to the unknown. He was scared. He was sweating. He was shaking. “This is a fucking bomb” he thought, over and over again.

He eventually came alongside the shiny, silver, homemade parcel of destruction and held his breath. He adjusted his webbing and pulled out and extendable mirror much like those used by Dentists, only longer. He placed a small red flag next to the case and then proceeded to look at each item within the case without touching anything. Sweat dripped off his brow and ran down his nose before splashing against the oozing mud. He could see that the wires were corroded and only the plastic outer coating remained, giving a long distance impression of usefulness. The timer device was in fact a Wee Megger, a device used to test resistance, and could be used to test an IEDs wiring. It had long ago ceased operation as water entered its workings. The jeweller’s screwdrivers proved to be a set of small electrical drivers and accompanying crimping tools. The Plastique turned out to be plain old putty and the clear jars held nothing but water. The jumbled mess, thrown together beneath the water had settled and congealed into a mass that really did resemble a bomb until dissected from close range with a practised and knowledgeable eye. This was in fact an electrician’s tool case and someone had thrown it over the railing. It was another false alarm.

Case closed (sorry about the pun)

The Police could investigate the firearms and the case. The Navy was finished so they packed up their trailer and headed back to base.

As they returned to base, the Petty Officer turned to the young man beside him and asked “Were you scared?”
The Sailor sat in silence, for a few seconds, then slowly turned toward his boss “I have never been so scared in my life” he declared “I crawled, on hands and knees, to within a few inches of the bloody thing. Not knowing what was going to happen. I had no bomb suit and no body armour” he stammered as the realisation of what may have happened sunk in. His boss patted him on the shoulder and said simply “Good job, mate. It was real until it was proved otherwise. It was your job to decide that fact. The fear is a good thing. It will keep you alive in this trade.” He trailed off but then apologised further “One day they may give us the protective gear but until that day we keep doing what we do best. Remember, that we just earned $23 each in danger money” whereupon they both started laughing until tears streaked their faces and their cheeks hurt.

That was a long time ago but still vivid in my memory. The fear was as real as if the bomb had have been real. People later related that they thought I had over reacted but those in my explosive demolition squad knew otherwise.

Peace time in the Military is not always Peaceful.

THE KISS...A 101 Class

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Stung by Scorpy

Another Rehash of a past post...this one is for Trav and Cynic...I think they need a little passion :)

-------oOo-------

You move toward her as she waits for you by the entrance to the station. She turns toward you as you gently slide your arm around her waist, placing your hand at the small of her back. Slowly, whilst looking into her eyes and searching her features, pull her toward you until your bodies almost touch. Don’t talk it will shatter the moment. With the fingers of your other hand gently stroke her cheek until you feel her, ever so slightly, move her face toward your touch and her lips part with tiny drops of moisture. Move your face closer, whilst pulling her a little tighter, and touch your lips to her cheek…this must be a fleeting yet inviting touch. Wait until she closes her eyes and then continue to softly caress her with light touches of your lips as you gradually get closer to her mouth. When she sighs it is the time to gently cradle her face,in both hands, and draw her lips to yours. There must be passion and lust yet feeling and tenderness. This is the first touch and a promise of things to come. Don’t linger as this is the initial step only… it is not THE kiss...this is only foreplay of the lips and mind. Now, slide your hands from her cheeks through her hair to the nape of her neck and the crown of her hair. Now cradling her face slightly nip her lips several times with yours…gently but invitingly pulling on them, as you wait for another sign. She will part her lips or open her eyes to wander your face in that way that only a woman can…and then she is ready… she does not want the games any more. Hold her tighter and press your bodies together as you back her gently into the shadow. It is time for THE Kiss so with moistened lips guide her mouth to the contours of yours and slowly part them both. You explore her gently but phallically, as you describe your feelings and desire and excitement with the kiss alone. It must be masculine but not an immediate explosion of excitement. The tempo will be governed by the moment and her suggestive body movements....Foreplay is over...The Kiss has just made or broken the deal...for the First kiss IS the test.

TEENAGE ANGST...

Friday, August 08, 2008

Stung by Scorpy

Do you remember your first kiss? I don't mean all of those offhanded family greetings or cheek grabbing smooches from long lost aunt Zelda with badly fitting teeth and questionable intentions. I'm talking about THE first Kiss!! The kiss that you thought about long before it took place. The kiss that you dreamed about day and night as your hormones fought your young body and subdued rational thought. The kiss that you hoped would set you free from the bonds of childhood and lead to something more. The kiss that would seal a pact between you and the object of your desire. The kiss that promised so much. Do you remember it now?
Do you remember the dryness in your mouth and upon your lips? Do you remember the thoughts that ran through your mind? You know...the thoughts of "What will they think of me?", "Can I do this right?", "How should I hold their face, stroke their hair..., should I keep my eyes open, Do they expect tongue on the first kiss....Do I know how to use tongue?"...OMG!!! How did we achieve that first kiss?
Do you remember as you approached each other, as your faces came closer? Do you remember the electricity of those lips and the warmth in your lower body as you embraced and mashed your lips harder together in lieu of any technique or full understanding of what a kiss involved?
Do you remember their name?

I do...and I always will ;)