Fallen Scorpio

THE LAST TACKLE...

2010-03-28T11:24:00.000+10:00

The last tackle….the last run…the last war. That was what I felt when I played my last game.

Football is a war. Your side against their side…good versus evil…town versus town…take no prisoners…give no quarter…never leave a mate behind blah blah blah….but it’s true. Every game I played was like preparing to jump out of a plane or go into battle…we were revved up by inspirational speeches reminiscent of Mel Gibson and his defending Scots or King Henry and his band of brothers on St Crispan’s Day…all the while a bunch of middle aged men would prowl around us exhorting our virtues; and theirs from days gone by. They lived their remaining days through our actions. We achieved our day in the sun through the sacrifices of their past deeds. A battle lust would fill us; a crescendo of noise would issue forth as we escaped the confines of the change rooms and launch our way onto the field. Arms flexed, Chests heaved, and lungs pumped as we came down from our high and every so slowly controlled our emotions and our minds and set them for the game at hand. Slow the breathing, survey the opposition, take in your opponent, assess their immediate strength and possible weakness…watch the official as the whistle slowly makes its way to his lips, his piercing scream signals game on and like a thundering mass, bodies clash and collide, the crowd noise engulfs the field, friends fall beside you as they protect and aid you…the ball slaps into your hands and you and your opponent come face to face as you smash into each other and rattle your teeth…aaah football. Blood, honour, sacrifice,

It was the best thing, other than sex, to explode your mind with endorphins and drive your heart rate through the roof. Anger was vented, frustrations unleashed, passion thrown asunder and it built to the ultimate climax…a whistle blown at full time and the tremendous coming down as your body slowly let go and unwound from the battle…then the pains and aches started but the volatility of youth had been expended and you drank a beer and reminisced about the game, in great detail, as you bonded with those that had fought beside you.

SINGLE...

2010-03-07T12:03:00.002+10:00

Alone and Loneliness…these are two very similar words yet in my mind they are miles apart. ALONE is a conscious choice whereas LONELINESS is symptom bought on by being alone…I choose to be Alone and sometimes I feel loneliness

Unaccompanied,
by yourself,
on your own,
and no-one else.

Seclusion,
Isolation,
Privacy.

Longing, desire, yearning, hunger, craving, pining lust….these are some of the symptoms of being lonely…but they are often fleeting. It is when they set in for a while that your mood changes.

I like living by myself, with my own rules and idiosyncrasies. I like my things where I put them. I like my bed just where it is, I like my TV programmes, I like the food that I like they way I like it….I like to leave the dishes sometimes, I like to watch TV with the lights off, I like to read in bed for hours on end, I like to get in the car and just drive with no destination given or known, I like not being responsible for anyone else, I like being selfish because when you are alone it is selfless.

I want to share my life but not in my house or my bed or by their rules or their life….I have had that and don’t want it anymore…I know I am missing out on so much and probably hurting myself at the same time but it is very comfortable and very easy when you are on your own with no timetable. I want to design my house to my specifications and it will never suit anyone other than a single man or a husband that does not want to include his wife..

Massive kitchen with stainless steel BBQ as the centrepiece, enormous glass door fridges that lead out through folding doors to the equally spacious deck, TV/Entertainment room with Recaro seats mounted to the floor rather than floral patterned soft furnishings. A shower that could fit a female volley ball team with a shower rose that feels like a waterfall, the other 3 rooms in the house would be a study come gaming room complete with library, a ‘boys’ room for keeping all of the stuff that you don’t want to put in your bedroom or store in the quadruple garage and finally the bedroom…walk in robe, gigantic bed and that is about it. All floors will be polished timber with a couple of throw rugs….cheap simple and practical….PS: Ironically my mate’s WIFE has already drawn it up.

Contact front...

2009-11-13T23:33:00.004+10:00

The solemn tropical clouds had descended to canopy level all the while threatening to spill their overripe bellies in yet another torrent of lukewarm, flooding, rain. I could feel the heaviness in the air, it deadened all sound but sound is what I was waiting for.

I needed to hear the enemy before I saw them. I needed the edge. We needed the edge. There were eight of us spread around the ambush site, a track that led down to the river. We had lain there for many hours having scraped shallow pits from the debris and undergrowth of the rainforest. We had picked our killing ground carefully. We had studied our arcs of fire, our actions on contact and our RVs for post attack….but the waiting was pure torture. Small insects crept over our dank uniforms and bit into tender parts of our bodies. We could not move to swat them, as rapid movements may have give our position away or startle the many birds that had returned to our position since we had gone to ground…another give away that something was amiss. We could not afford to give our enemy any forewarning…so we waited in almost reptilian stillness. We craned our heads, turned our ears toward the natural approach route and held our breath. Was that a noise? Is that them? Steady…breath in…hold it…listen…exhale…and wait.

My mind was beginning to fatigue. My body had grown accustomed to its torture and although it ached in every joint and suffered through the constant insect invasion, it remained steady. My mind however had threatened to wander off for the past twenty minutes. The constraint strain of listening and scanning the ground within my arc was taking its toll. How long can they be? Is this the right place? Could they be outflanking us? Had we given ourselves away? Negative thoughts flooded in while I tried to push them aside and concentrate on the now. Scan and listen…take in the surroundings and identify that which is different.

Would they travel this path? Would they come today? Would the rain arrive before them?

We laid beside that jungle track, in Northern Malaysia for twelve hours…twelve rain soaked, insect bitten, brain straining hours. They did not come….but we had waited as if they would…the exercise was over….we retreated through ‘hostile’ lines and made our RV on time. The military did not always explain its training philosophy. They trained us to experience through actions rather than rely on classroom theory alone….they threw us in the deep end…but luckily our feet could just touch the bottom. We trained for realism…as do the boys and girls serving us in Iraq and Afghanistan today.

The REUNION...

2009-11-01T23:38:00.003+10:00

There they stood...side by side...my memory of all things 'teen..

The first girl I kissed and the last girl I kissed, before I joined the Navy...before I became a man.

I saw them before they saw me and I drank them in...One in Red the other in Black.

The years melted away as I saw their faces. The years I lost flooded back and so did the feelings.

It felt unnatural Why should I have these feelings after all theses years? ...but they were my first loves and they sat side by side and it scared me.

I wish I had more time to talk to them. I wish I could find out about their lives, their dreams, their children, their achievements...I wish I had never left and lost my teenage years to the military. Thinking back...15 was too young to join the Military, 15 was too young to give up my teen years....15 was too young to give up teen loves...15 was just too young!!

There they stood...side by side...and after one week...I still see them in my mind and in my dreams.

They are both beautiful women....They always were and they most definitely still are.

Hi All...

2009-10-31T12:11:00.002+10:00

I decided to change my blog...yet again...be patient as I work out all of the bugs. The Archive is still there but the dates don't show up until you scroll thru the drop down menu with the mouse. I'll work it out. I also have to reinstall my blogroll....I am not looking forward to finding all of those addresses again so if you still drop by please send me your blog address..

I have a few posts in the offing and I WILL be back...Scorpy :)

SUMMER WAR...

2009-02-26T16:30:00.003+10:00

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!

NEW DIGS...

2008-11-25T11:41:00.006+10:00

(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...

2008-10-01T16:05:00.004+10:00

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....

2008-09-09T14:11:00.000+10:00

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

2008-08-30T23:00:00.007+10:00

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...

2008-08-08T18:11:00.004+10:00

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 ;)

STALKER LOST...

2008-07-17T20:30:00.002+10:00

There I was at my local watering hole, having knocked back a few ales, and who should appear before my bleary, beer soaked eyes but Stalker Girl.
Yes!...THE Stalker Girl!!!! of Scorpy fame and torment
Do you remember when she first hunted me? and the subsequent news story that followed? Well, she has been stalking me and taking advantage of my sometimes inebriated state for about four years now. She comes unannounced to my house, texts me constantly, follows me in her car and basically makes my life a torture...except for those times when I'm looking for a quick 'fix' and she's willing and able....read - naked and compliant.
Anywho...I haven't seen her much of late although she still texts me (I don't respond) and I haven't slept with her for at least two weeks (now that was a night to remember). We 'sleep' together as often as she stumbles upon me when I'm at my weakest...read - drunk and horny. She dotes on me, touches me whenever she is close, invades my space and drools constantly...So how surprised do you think I was yesterday when her friends tell me she is engaged !!!!!
I said "Who to?" and
they said "Her boyfriend of course"
"Boyfriend?" I replied cynically
"Yes" they chorus
"But what boyfriend?"..."When did this start?" I ask
"Scorpy, you dolt...they have been dating for about three years..didn't you know?"
"Obviously not...not that I care...but I'm surprised" Note: No one knew that we were having sex occasionally....(well, they probably did but I was obviously oblivious)
So there we are...Stalker Girl had me as a piece on the side. The hussy!!!!
So this is how it feels... I don't know if I should be proud of the fact that she went out of her way to have her way with me (constantly) OR insulted that she was two timing me...although we were definitely NOT dating...OR...Impressed that she managed to keep me secret from him and vica versa. I think I will stick with the later.
aaah...Karma it's such a bitch LOL

INSTANT...

2008-07-14T14:30:00.001+10:00

She stood about 5 foot 3; she had blonde hair and brown eyes and her nose was a little too small for her face but it suited her all the same. Her skin had that Australian summer glow and her mouth curled into dimples when she smiled but these were all tangible things. She had something I couldn’t place. I could see it but couldn’t all at the same time. It was indescribable. It was more of a feeling. It started way down in my stomach and rose rapidly to my chest. I stopped breathing and just stared. She was beautiful. She may not have been so to every man that looked upon her but to me she was truly radiant. I couldn’t look away nor could I move forward. I wanted to meet her instantly. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted her to want me. My mind was thinking of things we could do together, places we could visit, friends we could share. All of these crazy thoughts rushed through my brain as pheromones, endorphins and testosterone battered the remaining cells into submission. I was confused, aroused and scared all at the same time. I just hoped she didn’t walk away before I summoned the courage to meet her, talk to her and know her.

I fell in love with the woman I would marry before I even met her.

My body knew way before I did.

Night Moves....

2008-07-09T16:49:00.004+10:00

It was very dark and damp beneath the canopy of the fir trees of the Adelaide hills and a little on the cold side. The insignificant amount of light, which filtered thru from the moon, did nothing to stem the apprehension that I could feel from the green clad ‘warriors’ scattered around me. There were about 30 personnel secreted in shallow scrapings in the soil called ‘shell scrapes’. They were fanned out in a defensive pattern searching and listening for an unknown enemy. Rifles pointed in all directions and the barrels shook slightly from the cold and fear. The faces of their owners were covered in ‘cam’ cream and if you looked really hard you could make out the glow of their wide-open eyes.Thirty female recruits, that were shit scared, now lay scattered around me amongst the pine needles, dirt and dampness. The girls were mostly scared of the unknown…'Where are they?'… 'Who are they?'…. 'When are they coming?' These thoughts and others ran thru their collective minds as they stared into the darkness and their eyes began to play tricks as the rods and cones, of their eyes, adjusted but they continued to stare at moving trees and chased phantom shadows. They were waiting for the enemy. What they did not know was that no one was coming. There was no ‘enemy’ tonight as the remainder of the instructors were back at base camp tucking into hot showers and meals. This was an exercise in waiting and pressure. They were to spend the night in the field and carry out the normal actions involved in this…eating, sleeping, picket duties etc but they had heard stories from other courses before them and they were worried about phantom attackers. This was their field craft training and they would be ensconced in this military training zone for a week. It would involve live firing target practises, map reading, sleeping in the scrub, ready to eat ration packs, no showers and inane marches with backpacks that felt as if they were loaded with rocks. It was relatively easy, when compared to the Army but these were Air Force recruits and they did not get it half as bad as their comrades from the 'run, jump, fuck, fight' brigade. I moved my head toward the course leader, as she lay beside me, and whispered in her ear. 'I am leaving but I will check back at 0200. Ensure you set up a watch and make sure the girls regulate their sleep and they HAVE to eat' she turned her head and our lips almost touched. I could just make out her eyes as she responded, 'Do you have to leave?' It seemed more of an invite for pleasure than a request from a scared girl facing the uncertainties of the night. I could feel her breath on my face and her closeness was starting to arouse me, as she continued to linger mere inches from me. 'I have to go….I’ll be back later…Get the troops organised' I stated in clipped military tones. I stood and thanked the darkness for hiding my obvious state and headed off for the RV and my ride back to base camp. Her name was ‘L’ and we were the same age. She had played mind games with me for a number of weeks with stolen glances and those smouldering eyes but until that moment, inches apart in the dark, I had fought back the urge to do or say anything. I should have dragged her up before my Sergeant, as the manual said, but I was a young male and she a young female. What did the military think we were made of… clay? Young men get aroused and if they did not want anything to happen between instructors and recruits they should have employed same sex instructors or eunuchs. Anyway…what was I going to do about ‘L’? ‘Nothing’ I thought. I could handle it and I would speak to her later about the proper protocols. I knew that was bullshit but I was always trying to appease myself. I left them waiting for an unknown enemy that was never going to come. At least, it was not to be a full-scale frontal attack across their entire position but rather a single assault against a strongpoint named ‘L’ I thought about ‘L’ all the way back to base camp. I showered and changed into a new set of cams and had some dinner. The emergency response crew and medics stayed on alert and monitored the hourly radio checks. It would not do if one of the hoons was injured and an angry politician with parent in tow came to land us in some hot water. Some of the boys were getting ready to hit another of the courses. We never hit them all but we just wanted them to think we were. They were loading Pistols, M60s and SLRs with blanks. They always guaranteed to scare recruits because of the large flash and noise they produced. The boys included some ‘thunder flashes’ that deafened and disorientated anybody that was not ready for them. The boys were in party mode. There was to be no finesse during their assault…They would sneak in, as close as possible and someone would set off a flare. The rookies would stare at the light and instantly lose their night vision once the flare dissipated. Then the boys would act like complete and utter Dervishes and firing from the hip charge the hapless recruits whom could only retaliate with screams and the occasional shout of ‘bang, bang’ (they had no blanks - we wern't total fools). The recruits hated it but the instructors loved it. It was a chance to let off some steam and keep the rookies on edge. After the boys set off, I excused myself from the response team and stepped out into the darkness walking toward a whispered promise. I navigated thru the dense scrub, bypassing the roads to shorten the trip. I’d been here many times before so I new my way geographically, just not emotionally. I crept past the outer pickets and past the troops lying wide eyed and awake in their shallow shell scraps and defensive positions. They were still chasing trees and challenging shadows. It would be a long night for them as no enemy would come. The only attacker had slipped thru their lines, unchallenged, and stealthily crept toward a rendezvous with their leader. I got to within a few feet of her before she realised that something was out there. I stopped and lowered my head into the crook of my arm. Only my eyes peered over my forearm ….nothing reflected light and I made no sound. I just observed. Her eyes widened as she attempted to let in more light. Her nostrils flared as she tried to smell a change. Her head cocked to one side to listen better but it was all in vain and she started once again to scan the middle ground, in her arc of fire. Nothing! She started to relax ……I pounced! I pushed off with my right leg and closed the few feet in a flash. I clamped my hand around her mouth instantly blocking out any sound. She struggled and fought but I rolled her over trapped her to my body with my free arm and a leg lock. She wasn’t going anywhere. I whispered in a struggling voice, a cliché from some soldier movie, ‘if this was real you’d be dead’ or some such rubbish. She relaxed when she knew it was me. I released her mouth and the figure four death lock. She turned on me sharply, pushing both hands against my chest and holding me down. In a hoarse whisper she said ‘If this was real I’d still be screaming’ then before I had time to react she kissed me. That was it. I didn’t have to go thru all of the rituals and questions that had floated thru my mind as I trekked thru the scrub that night. ‘Does she really like me?’, ‘Is it just an instructor crush?’, ‘What am I doing out here?’ and ‘What is that bright star just below the little dull one?’. She released me from the kiss and searched my face from mere inches away. She traced the outlines of my face and tripped over my lips with her fingers. She drank me in and a smile started at the corner of her mouth as she collapsed onto me a nestled her head into my chest. I embraced her and held her to me. What was that all about? Why do I feel like this? There was a weight on my chest but it was not ‘L’ – well not her physical presence anyway. What had just passed between us in those fleeting seconds? We did not know anything about each other, yet we both knew then and there wrapped in camouflage, lying in dirt, under a darkened pine forest in the Adelaide hills that we had awakened something – apart from the obvious. We lay side by side during that night and talked of family and friends and dreams. We watched the dawn break over the lightening hills and spear thru the long grass and beneath the canopy of the fir trees. I kissed her a last time and grabbing my rifle slipped away into the tree line. I skirted the trees and advanced toward the forward pickets. This time they spotted me and squawked a half hearted challenge ‘Halt. Identify yourself’. I roared a reply and they knew the exercise was over. They scattered back to their respective pits and gathered their gear for the trek back to base camp and breakfast. I approached the lead recruit and sternly asked ‘Any intrusions last night?’ ‘No Corporal’ she yelled ‘unfortunately’ she whispered and winked at me.

Clearing the Air.....

2008-06-26T21:07:00.005+10:00

Just to clear up a strengthening rumour - Indy, Wombat and I are NOT the same person. Yes, we are Australian Men with a fascination for the opposite sex (check our blogrolls) and an ability to write about them but there endeth the link.

I still live in Oz and am happily bringing up my LLs, Indy is swanning around an Asian island contemplating his navel and Wombat, likewise, is probably touring the everglades or some such tropical remoteness of the US in a jacked up limousine.

It is nought but a coincidence that we all stopped blogging at the same time...sort of stopped blogging.

I'll be back one day but just not now. I cannot vouch for the other two.

PS: I am in print! I lent a story to a charity book helping kids of war torn countries. Check it out at LULU. I am way at the back somewhere but the story I submitted was this one. I bought a copy and found many of the stories very moving. It is a good read. Enjoy.

G'Day...

2008-05-24T15:34:00.004+10:00

I feel like I am starting all over again so I though I might tell you all a few things about me that you may not know:

I have never read a Harry Potter book although my daughters and I often have HP weekends where we watch all of the movies,
I read from a novel every day,
I won a Nintendo Wii from a recent Fantasy Football league competition where I came first in all of Australia (it arrives next week),
I suffer from Bipolar Disorder but I still like the old title of Manic Depressive as it suits me better,
I believe that I match my Horoscope of Scorpio but don't believe anyone else matches theirs, so mine must be a complete fluke,
I have had a threesome at the behest of the two women,
I have been given as a birthday present to two women on separate occasions,
I am very shy but compensate by being gregarious when in a crowd...don't ask how this is possible but it may be something to do with the BP,
I can easily work during the day and return to my home and not talk or see anyone for weeks on end,
I fall in love (or lust) very easily and it used to be often,
I cannot recount all of the women I have slept with, and I have tried, but it would be 100 or more,
I have been stalked by women on a number of occasions,
I love sex but I also hate it because if you do not love them it is often very hard work
If you really love someone then love making (as opposed to sex) is very easy,
I love to have all of the facts,
I hate doing something twice so I'd rather do it smarter,
I have no comprehension of the value of money and often feel better when I have none,
I was worth over a million dollars,
I hate very easily but it usually stems from some type of fear,
I hate people that do not consider others (Loud Music, barking dogs, do not indicate, tailgaters).
Common sense is not all not common,
I have had four operations considered major surgery,
I have played and represented in all four football codes within Australia,
I have lived in another country for longer than two months,
I have been in a tank, an aircraft carrier, a jet and a submarine,
I wish I was rich enough not to work,
I could happily live on a boat,
I still love my ex wife,
I have never been engaged,
I have never bought a girl jewellery as I do not believe in its value,
I love intellectual comedies (Boston legal) and comedies(Scrubs) in general,
I do not believe in fortune tellers and therefore mediums and ghost whisperers,
I am superstitious and follow routines,
I believe all drivers should undertake proper driver and crash training and the tests should be as stringent as possible. If people cannot drive then they should NOT have a license,
I am opinionated and dislike it when people just want to listen to their own opinions,
I have done many, many, many things in my life and I hate it when others who have done nothing question my claims,
I don't like crowds,
I tell the truth online...I know weird isn't it?

Do you have any questions??????

SALUTE AGAIN...

2008-02-07T18:24:00.000+10:00

I resubmit this, on the anniversary and in memory of a fallen mate from many years ago...

"Firing Party!...Aaa–ten–hut!" and with that command, the squad of six snapped to attention, raising knees and raining boots onto the soft grass verge of the cemetery, before again standing perfectly, rigidly still.

The nearby mourners ruffled and looked about at these solemn, yet armed, young men bedecked in full dress uniforms with shiny brass and razor creases. They had been standing in the sun...still as statues...for almost 40 minutes, as the local parish priest greeted mourners and read over the coffin.

"Firing Party...Shooulll-derrr-ahms" snapped the Sergeant of the Guard and the six guardsmen instantly shouldered their weapons in the blistering, afternoon sun. The ceremonial rifles were heavy and the sweat, from the heat, made them hard to control but all that the mourners saw was the perfect timing and precision. The staccato, yet reverent, orders were carried to the mourners by the newly arrived breeze, which had settled over the rural cemetery.

The six stoic guardsmen followed the rhythmic orders, of their sergeant, moving in unison as they prepared to fire the volley to their fallen comrade.

This was the moment

The body was to be lowered...forever

A Friend, a Lover, a Brother, a Son ... was gone. It was their turn to pay him respect. The funeral was not so much for the departed but for the family. It was to show them that their loved one was appreciated and missed by his adopted military family.

As the coffin was lowered beneath the edges of the ground, the Sergeant offered the last farewell.

"Fire" intoned the Sergeant and the sudden explosion, from the Guard's rifles, rocked the graveyard.

"Fire" and the next crescendo was met by the echo of the first shot bouncing off the nearby sandstone Church.

"Fire" and the sound carried across the valleys and hills. It carried to the locals going about their daily lives in the nearby town. It carried to the heavens and sent their friend on his last journey.

The lament of the 'Last Post' then sent those not already weeping and remorseful over the edge with its haunting tones of loss. It grabbed their hearts and filled them with pride, as it always does on those solemn occasions. It used to signal the end of the day but now it had signaled the end of a life.

It was over.

They had honoured their friend and respected the family. His military life was complete.

"Firing Party…Shooulll-derrr-ahms" commanded the Sergeant...softly...for he too had lost a mate….his best mate. The tears started and his voice croaked as he talked softly to his men reassuring them and asking them to remain strong. None of the mourners saw their shoulders shaking; none saw the tears well in their eyes but their Sergeant knew... for these were all his mates and they had paid him his last honour.

The friends and family started to gather around the grave before drifting off with handshakes and hugs. They walked back in twos and threes to their parked cars. They stood individually by the grave or at a distance and reflected on their own mortality and the loss of a loved one.

The Sergeant and his troops waited until they had all filed past...not blinking, not moving, standing straight and tall they stared into the valley, across the way. They had a job to finish. They were his honour guard. The mourners nodded to them, thanked them in cracked voices and filed past through the old wrought iron gate. The Priest finally walked past and thanked them "Great Job Men" and the Sergeant spied the military medals upon his chest and knew he was one of them. The guards were at breaking point now and the Sergeant needed to release them so they too could say goodbye.

"Guard...Dissss-missed" and with that they all turned right, breaking ranks and walked toward the grave of their mate.

Later, after they had secured their weapons in the local Police station, they all went to the local pub to give him a proper farewell...A traditional Military and Australian goodbye. They drank beer and told stories. They embellished their lost comrade to family and friends. They made him out to be an even better person than he was in real life. He was a rogue, a womanizer, a drinker of repute and the best friend a bloke could have. They made the family happy and they all got quietly drunk. Well as quite as a bunch of Military men can be.

That was my first guard, as commander, and I remember every second of that day...the fields, the tears, the people, the drinking, the kind words and the loss. I choked on nearly every command but I was determined to do it and glad that I did.

I did a lot of funerals, some for people I knew and some for people I had never known but we did them all the same. We were professional and courteous and thankful it wasn’t us.

LOVE...

2008-02-04T16:33:00.000+10:00

"Scorpy, how do you know when you're in love?"
"Great question and thanks for asking"
I know love is different for everyone but it seems to hit me like a hammer. Although, I have been in love three times they have hit me equally as fast. I have had some long term partners which I haven't loved, but been very fond of, and I knew I wasn't in love just as earnestly as I knew those that I did love. I'm a romantic and fall very easily but I 'love' women generally so it should be easy.
Love always traps me. It is like a drug that takes all rational thought away and replaces it with a sole purpose and that purpose is the her love. Work suffers, eating suffers, friends suffer...in fact all aspects of my life suffer except for her. I can't wait to see her, hold her, touch her, hear her. I count the hours and minutes. I rush. I'm alert. I'm devoted in my passion and desire to be with her. Clingy it may sound but the initial phases of love, as stated, are a drug and she is the pusher. I need my fix and nothing will hold me back from her. She will fill my dreams as she fills my daylight thoughts. The love drug is not gradual either. It is instantaneous. I know or don't know, within minutes, and that is why I hate dates....especially those from the Internet. I need to see them first. There has to be something about them that initially attracts me and that may be shallow but my body and brain give me the signals. So if I attend a blind date I will know straight away if I should just turn around and leave although I don't because I'm not rude. The drug part comes when I first meet them. It is something in their eyes and the way they respond to people....but having said that I think it is really the adrenalin and other chemicals released that keep me in the chase for when the initial entrapment is complete I seem to lose that lust and passion and maybe that is why they never last. I need to feel loved and their is nothing better than the 'initial love' because, and lets be honest, very few people can keep up that initial romance and momentum of the first few months (maybe years). The chase (and often the secrecy) of that initial love is a high upon highs. It is the aphrodisiac that inflames me.
The weird bit is that when we break up...I almost have the same feelings. I want them back even though deep down I know they are probably not right...I still want them back. I want to feel that adrenalin of the sweaty palms and racing heart.....but in its worst phase love is equally damaging as it was once uplifting. The loss affects work, friends, eating sleeping to the same degree as the initial love did...except this time you feel like crap. Funny thing love...what are your thoughts? and I hope I answered the initial blogger's question ;)

SNAPSHOT...

2008-02-04T16:28:00.000+10:00

I may or may not be part of the revealing masses at Miss Smack's great blog. She is currently holding a competition to guess the 'Boobs and Moobs' of those that send them in. Very revealing and great fun...but you'll never know if you don't have a gander :)

ENTERING THE VOID

2008-01-27T14:46:00.001+10:00

'The Adventures of Captain and Co-pilot'
2300171108 Kilo
Situation: The 'target' is female (as usual). The location will be within the confines of the taxi grid network of your base camp.The weather, in the area of operations, will be hot and humid. There will be no other 'allied' persons in the mission area. You will be outfitted with standard condoms, ribbed condoms and a small sachet of lubricant. You have eight hours to complete this mission.
Mission: You will be dropped behind enemy lines into the world of women. The rendezvous will be of your own choosing but the mission must be accomplished before daylight, without the knowledge of her flatmate or parents. You must leave the premises under the cover of darkness.
Command: This mission is classified, Codename "Nirvana".

----oOo----

After acquiring the target and sweet talking your way into her bedroom, you still have to 'complete' the mission. The foreplay is winding to a close. The moment is set. She has closed her eyes, arched her back and let out an almost imperceptible purr as she awaits your next move...
Captain to Co-pilot "The mission is green...go...go.go..."
Co-pilot to Captain "Mmmm..Hmph...Nffff..."
Captain to Co-pilot "You are breaking up...I say again...you are breaking up"
Co-pilot to Captain "It's the HAZOP gear! I cannot breath inside this prophylactic suit "
Captain to Co-pilot "It is imperative to the mission that you wear the suit. She will not allow entry without it"
Co-pilot to Captain "Roger that. I am entering the void...Ouch"
Captain to Co-pilot "What happened?"
Co-pilot to Captain "I missed. It is dark down here...wait..I see it now..wait..wait...she is offering assistance. Captain, have you seen her talons? She could rip the suit"
Captain to Co-pilot "Keep down the chatter and concentrate Man! You are entering the void. You must remain calm and remember to Hold...Your... Fire. We don't want the mission to end early"
Co-pilot to Captain "Stop reminding me. I have enough pressure with this suit and her bloody grip...O.K...I can see it clearly now. Here I go...Remember... comms will be down for the initial entry...going...Now.."
Captain to Co-pilot "Co-Pilot!....Co-Pilot! Come in, Come in...can you hear me?... Co-Pilot!"
Co-pilot to Captain "Oh....My...God! Oh...My...God! This is amazing...The heat
is incredible...It is hot but bearable..even in the suit. Wait...She
has started moving...OK the initial pressure has eased and the way become more lubricated"
Captain to Co-pilot "O.K I am controlling your thrusting from here. We don't
want to fully pull out or you may just crash and you know what happens then"
Co-pilot to Captain "Yeah...head-butt into pelvic bones. Why do you think I am always wearing my
helmet? O.K...the rhythm is good for me. What is she doing?"
Captain to Co-pilot "She is writhing and pushing waaay too hard but we can control her from here. You just concentrate on your mission, son"
Co-pilot to Captain "Roger. I am entering stasis now. I will think of video games and that time our body fell of it's bike. Wake me when we reach zenith"
Captain to Co-pilot "Roger. Sleep well but remember to put all safeties on"

Sometime later...
Captain to Co-pilot "Wake-up. She has entered phase four. We have passed entry, rhythm matching and endurance...we are entering the end game. Are you ready co-Pilot?
Co-pilot to Captain " Holey hell. It is like waking in Hades down here. The temperature has increased ten fold and the humidity...I hope it's humidity..has caused condensation. My mask is fogging up. The safety is slipping. I don't know if I can hold it Captain.."
Captain to Co-pilot "Think about the mission Man. Go to a horrible place and think of anything but release...Do whatever you have to to stop firing your weapon!"
Co-pilot to Captain "Easier said than done. The weapons will cook off by themselves in this heat and movement. Damn! I...can't...hold...it...Captain..."
Captain to Co-pilot "Steady...Steady...wait...wait....There she goes...hold on just a little longer"
Co-pilot to Captain "I...am...trying..."
Captain to Co-pilot "There she goes..weapons release authorised...I say again weapons free."
Co-pilot to Captain "Firing now........Aaaahhhhh. Weapons away...Shit...I forgot about the suit... I am drowning in here and the pressure has increased. Shit..She is clamping..Captain...she is clamping down!"
Captain to Co-pilot "Steady..I'll get the body to kiss her and caress the hair from her face and when she gets that contented look off her face we'll pull out. You've done well son. She will telling her friends about this one.
Co-pilot to Captain "She better. That was a personal best."
Captain to Co-pilot "Wait...I have to talk to our Left leg, apparently we have cramped in the calf. We need that for ex filtration from the premises."....."O.K. he thinks he can make. We are pulling out now. It won't be long and we will get that horrid suit off. Once again, well done mate.
Co-pilot
to Captain "Thanks, Skipper"

FISHY TALES...

2008-01-23T20:55:00.000+10:00

I took the LLs fishing the other day. It was overcast and rain threatened all day. I was sure it would rain as the whole state is currently under flood or under flood alert from a steady two week downpour but alas it did not rain and I endured seven hours of fishing by numbers.
The LL's have been fishing a few times with my Dad and I and my Ex's new Beau (nice guy) and they love it but still need some help with the finer points:

Attaching hooks and sinkers,
Baiting the hooks,
Cutting bait, and
Casting.

So basically, every facet of fishing is still to be instilled as a natural instinct. We drove down a winding, dirt road to a boat ramp that some locals use, the tide was running out but we found a sandy bank to set up our gear and cast a few lines. I had to warn them about casting and then walking back from the bank because of the local reptiles.
"What local reptiles Dad?" they both asked
"Bloody Crocodiles" I said pointing at the nearby sign with a nashing croc and warnings, in several languages, about being eaten.
"..but, the I can't see any crocs" said little LL.
"They are the most dangerous kind" I replied.
They got the picture and took on a healthy respect for the waters edge. I placed tackle on their lines and baited their hooks, with some prawns. We cast out over the sand banks and soon were rewarded with numerous bites and little LL landed a small Bream with her second cast.Show off! I offered to take it off the hook and throw it back but Big LL stepped up with the pliers and removed the hook, grabbed the squirming, silver fish and casually tossed it back in the water. I was very impressed. She smiled at me and took up station to my right and carried on fishing. Big LL caught the next three in succession and again returned them to the water with little help from me. Little LL was getting bored as her sister was bettering her so wandered back to the fishing tackle box, esky (cooler) and camping chairs. We fished for a few more hours but with little success. It was beautiful setting and except for the three boats that used the ramp we were the only ones down on the sand. The sky was grey and it reflected in the waters as they receded down the sand embankment and ran toward the sea. The girls and I decided to do a bit of nature spotting and sat and watched the sea eagles returning to their nests carrying small fish in their talons. We watched the soldier crabs march in unison across the rippled sand and bait fish ripple the waters edge as they eluded larger predators. It was so tranquil but we knew we had to leave as the water was becoming to shallow at the bottom of the tide.
We packed up our gear and splashed in puddles left from the previous nights downpour. We still smelled of fish and bait and it soon permeated every part of my SUV. I selected 4x4 and took the girls on a bit of a bush bash before we came back to the main road. We drove several kilometres to a nearby caravan park, nestled beside a tidal lake. It had a small cafe and BBQ area so we scoffed down some lunch and drinks before deciding to carry on fishing in the lake.
Once again, we set up our area, baited our hooks and cast our luck into the salty water. Little LL was again rewarded with the first fish and big LL soon after. They went fish for fish for a few hours before they realised that I hadn't landed anything all day. Did they fall back on their memories of dear old Dad looking after them when they got sick, or buying them great gifts for Christmas? Did they remember the times I sat and read to them or held their hands during walks in the park? NO!!! The little buggers took the piss out of me! They called me useless and the worst fisher in their known world. They bragged about their catches and their abilities. I was saddened and down hearted but then I realised with a sudden burst of pride that my daughters had finally mastered the Australian Art of Sarcasm and piss taking. I was so proud that I grabbed them and rubbed bait worms all over their arms as they ran shrieking toward the SUV.
It was a great day and we slowly drove home in the early evening smelling of the sea and black mud. We were sun burned and very tired but we had shared a great day.

GOING DOWN...

2008-01-17T21:49:00.001+10:00

I was thinking of starting a new blog; Titled 'The Adventures of Captain and Co-pilot'. What do you think of the artwork? Yes, the face is representative :). You may have to reacquaint yourselves with their first adventure before commenting. I have drafted a few more 'transmissions' from our Dynamic Duo.

----oOo----

When a guy enters into a sexcapade he is 'thinking' a whole lot. He has to impress, he has a reputation to either uphold or start and he wants his woman to cum. His check list is more akin to a pilot’s. If you could listen into the control centre of a man’s brain it would sound a little like this:

Co-pilot to Captain "I’m lost in the undergrowth Captain and there is no way through"..."I thought the bush had been cleared"
Captain to Co-pilot "Did you kiss her from the navel all the way down? It leads straight to it, Man! You have to get in there. The hope of all men is resting on your navigation skills. We have a reputation here mister!”"
Co-pilot to Captain "OK...I can see a clear path. I’ve reached the face but cannot locate the button…repeat…cannot locate the button. Beginning manual search now...but its dark down here"
Captain to Co-pilot "What do you mean you cannot locate the button? It's near the apex…it’s always at the apex. Look harder. Use your tongue and fingers...Lick, nip, suck. Good God man! You have to find it”"
Co-pilot to Captain "OK! I’ve located it. It was hiding under a small hood. Stand-by....Manipulating now."..."What’s that noise?”"
Captain to Co-pilot "It’s OK. She’s beginning to fire up. It’s the right button and not just a lump. You had me worried there number one. Carry on, you’re doing well. Increase repetitions to 75% and raise flaps – we are approaching lift off velocity”"
Co-pilot to Captain "I don’t think I can hold my breath that long Captain and my jaw is aching. I’m cramping up…are you there? Hello? Hello?.... Communications is down! I repeat comms.. is.. down!..."
Captain to Co-pilot "Comms is back up…get a grip man...she got excited and clamped her thighs around your head. Your vitals said both you and she nearly blacked out. Well done! Increase to 100% and stand by….Yes…Yes…YES…thar-she-blows. Give it a little more Cap’n and then start to ease down on the throttle. We don’t want to overheat her just yet.."

A man has to think on his feet...errr...stomach. He's constantly thinking of multiple manoeuvres...Rub there, increase tempo here, use other hand there, maintain pressure during the Kiss cycle and don’t forget to move a little.
Co-pilot to Captain "Did she just moan Captain? What does that mean? Is it good or bad? Is she tired or aroused?"
Captain to Co-pilot "Maintain pressure Co-Pilot..you're losing her...!"

It's bad enough trying to rub your tummy and pat your head but sex can be down right hard. Sex should be fun… not hard work :)

Oh God I miss it though...
"No you don't"...
"Who said that?"

ABSENT...

2008-01-08T21:51:00.001+10:00

I am off for a few weeks on a well earned break with my gorgeous LLs, starting this Friday. I haven't seen them for three weeks (before Christmas) and miss them tremendously. They are currently at my Parents (3hrs away) after having spent a few weeks on Fraser Island with their Mum.

We are going Surfing, Fishing and general relaxation on some golden Queensland Beaches. We will catch up on a few movies and go out for dinner a few times (they love getting dressed up and spending my money). We're going on a couple of Picnics and we will visit some touristy type locales but my main aim is to smother them in kisses and spoil them beyond my credit limit for two whole weeks.
I may drop in from time to time but probably not for the first week as the beach doesn't have an extension chord :)

LUSTAARGH, AGAIN....

2007-12-31T17:22:00.000+10:00

She lay naked upon the stark white sheets which contrasted completely with the lustre and colour of her skin.

It was an exotic amber-honey hue that glistened with the perspiration of our love making. The sun danced through the open window, playing over the well toned muscles below the taught lustrous skin.

Her jet black hair splayed across the pillows with a tiny wisp cascading over her sculptured face which danced in the light morning breeze. The locks tickled her and her body stirred as she dismissed the errant stands with the casual flick of her sculpture fingers.

She slowly raised her arms above her head and clenched her hands together as she stretched; cat like, whilst emitting a tiny purr of pleasure. Her body arched and twisted, slightly, as her pert breasts pushed upward and the muscles danced beneath the surface as they too awoke. My eyes marched down the flatness of her belly and beyond to her perfectly manicured sex that lay nestled between those taught thighs. Goosebumps raced along my arms, my heart pounded and the blood coursed through me as she aroused me from my torpor. She seemed completely oblivious to my presence as I drank her in, from the doorway.

Slowly she relaxed and sank back into the sheets and covers. Her eyelids fluttered, signally her final stage of awakening. She raised her chin and seductively proffered her luscious throat toward me. Through half lidded eyes she fixed her gorgeous brown cat-like gaze upon me as a seductive smile touched the corners of her mouth. She languidly raised a beckoning hand toward me summoning me back to her bed.

She always conveyed so much without uttering a word. It was the same with our lovemaking. We expended all of our energy on the physical.

She was another passing woman in my life and although there have been many I always remember them each the same….fondly but seemingly always in a provocative manner.

----oOo----

*Some of you may have seen this last year but I was thinking of her today and then I thought of this post :). Have great New Year

TIP of the DAY...

2007-12-17T07:15:00.000+10:00

Hi all and welcome to Uncle Scorpy's Tip of the Day!

If you have one of those large metal things in your driveway that you can sit in and drive to the shops or picks up the kidlets from school then here is a big tip for YOU!
When driving the big metal thing you will notice that the nasty government has made all the roads with corners in them, meaning that you will actually have to turn the big metal thing with the little wheel in front of you. Yes, that is correct - if you want to drive you have to be in the seat with the wheel. When you are going to turn you will need to alert other drivers of what you are going to do BEFORE you do it...so they don't drive their big metal thing up your arse!
When you have your hands on the wheel you will notice that it has, usually, two stalks protruding from the shaft that the wheel is attached to. Get you minds back on the lesson please and out of th Gutter...Yes, you in the back. One stalk is for the wipers and the other one lets everyone know that you are going to turn the big metal thing to the left or right. The wiper stalk must only be used if the big sheet of glass, in front of you, is getting wet. This means that it is raining and you will need the wipers to clear the rain so you can see. It is very important that you be able to see.
The second stalk is used to 'Indicate' . Come on lets say that together "I-N-D-I-C-A-T-E"... Good, now we are nearly there. When you are going to turn (Left OR Right) you lift or push down on that shaft and it makes the little blinker lights indicate on the panel...yes, those little lights correspond to two big lights at the back of the big metal thing and will let other people know that you are going to turn a corner. So next time you are driving in front of a Big Blue Toyota Hilux , in the rain, and you want to turn a corner Uncle Scorpy advises you to USE YOUR BLOODY INDICATORS or I will ram my Big Blue SUV through your rear window!!!!!. Thanks for dropping by :)
My next tip will be for those people that stand in the aisle, in shopping centres, and have a little conversation with their long lost friends of one day OR those people that angle park in a straight parking bay so I can't open my doors or reverse out. I'd like to also make a special mention of the speed challenged individual that drove in front of me yesterday at 40 ks per hour in the 100 k zone. Don't worry I'll be in touch with a special tip for you - thanks for placing you mobile phone number on the 'For Sale' sign in you rear window. It will make it so much easier for me to deliver my little present...probably late at night ;)
Drive Safe and have a great Christmas

LOOKING GLASS...

2007-12-08T17:41:00.000+10:00

There was a mass of people in the large but private room. Glasses chinked and ice swirled, laughter peeled across the room, a juke box wailed as people selected their favourite songs, lovers draped casual arms around their partners and everyone seemed wrapped in the attention of someone. People moved from group to group as stories changed and friends were spotted. Voices raised and just as quickly dropped as people talked over others to win the favour of their selected crowd. The year was being dissected, past glories and failures revisted and funny tales relived at the work Christmas Party. Everyone was enjoying themselves and primed with a free bar.
I had walked out onto the deck, to escape the warm room, when I looked back through the giant glass window and that is what I saw. A crowd or people, a crowd of couples, enjoying themselves. The noise was muted, by the glass, but the actions of those inside told of the good time they were having. My spot, at the nearest table, had already been filled. It was if I hadn't been there.
I noticed the small things that lovers and partners did unconsciously....they touched hips, they leaned openly toward one another, they lightly touched each others arms to emphasise a point or to garner support during speaking. They looked at each other just to make sure each was there. They smiled and really looked at each other. It was not open affection but just the same it spoke volumes for their feelings.
I felt the loneliness then, standing in the dark on a wooden deck looking into their world and reminiscing about where mine had landed me. They were sharing an experience. I'd be going home alone and they would continue to be with someone tonight, tomorrow and hopefully forever.
I walked back through the doors and the noise hit me but the heads did not look up. I hadn't been missed. I got another drink and blended into another group of work friends but it didn't feel the same. I'd spoiled my night by simply looking through the Glass...I was Alice and didn't belong, although I wasn't leaving while the bar was still free so I shook off the "Why Me's" and enjoyed my solitude whilst surrounded by couples.

FIRST TIME, AGAIN...

2007-12-04T17:50:00.000+10:00

People have asked me (and emailed) about the last post and how it all started. Here is my first post about the mysterious L. Some of you have seen and commented on this post before. I wrote it in 2005 and it is in 'Reflections' on my sidebar:

---oOo---

It was an Adelaide night and Hay Street was lit up like a mini version of Tokyo with all the young guys trolling their souped up cars, repeatedly, up and down the strip, trying desperately to impress the young girls with the size of their engines, the grumbling note of their exhausts and the steady monotonous beat of their bass speakers.

Meanwhile, in an up market hotel not far away, a virile, love struck, young man lay beside a reclining goddess and professed his uncertainties, his vulnerabilities, his dreams and his undying love. He had forsaken his normal ‘Seek and Destroy’ style with her. He knew from the moment he saw her that she was different from his usual conquests, for that is what he thought of them, way back then. She was different on so many new levels…Class, Style, Presence, Confidence and Beauty. He, for once, was unsure of himself and how he should relate to her because he never aimed to relate to anyone.
They had been seeing each other for movies, dinner and drives through the country over six glorious weeks and in that time he had not touched her, other than to feel the electricity from her lips, the softness of her hair as it caressed his face or the pleasure of simply holding her hand as they strolled together. He was smitten and a little more than aroused each time her saw her but he wanted this to be special. He wanted this to be right. He wanted this to be beautiful. He wanted to touch her and hold her and share the experience with her. He wanted this time to be as if they were the only ones that had ever touched each other. No memories. No comparisons. No expectations. They were to share an experience that was to enrich them. It would be an experience that they would hold in their hearts for ever. It would be a memory that sparked their emotions and stopped their breath each time they thought of that time…..their first time.
My chest constricts, even now, at the thought of that night and what could have been today. I will never forget her and I will not diminish the memory with words, for they would fail to capture what we shared that night. I loved her then, I love her now and always will.

CHOICES...

2007-11-30T18:59:00.000+10:00

She was standing below the canopy of a large shade tree. The dappled light sprinkled across her face, as she laughed and chatted with the people around her.
She was waiting to be inducted into the RAAF and it was the first time I had laid eyes on her.
It was one of those defining moments in my life when I knew it was going to change forever. It was a moment that made it seem as though everything around me had stopped and I alone could move. The direction I chose to move would script my future. I had a choice to make and I made it, without hesitation. It had dramatic repercussions – both good and, years later, very bad.
Her name was L and she was captivating with long, flowing auburn hair, soulful green eyes, a little upturned nose matched with perfect dimples and a smile that ate at my heart. She had an aura that enveloped her and everyone around her. It drew them in as it did I. I was smitten and over ten years later I still think of her nearly every day.
I was a drill instructor and she was a new recruit. We were the same age but in the defence forces life is different and there are rules governing fraternisation. Rules that we both broke but only I was punished for. We lived together for two fantastic, romantic years, after she had left rookies. We drifted apart as we were constantly apart with work, both overseas and interstate. Although, I had met an angel I still abused her trust then she mine...but that is another post - maybe. The RAAF discovered our living arrangements and the fact that we had dated during her recruit phase. Someone had decided to pas information to the Military Police. The very bad part of my choice was soon to arrive. The RAAF, with their archaic thinking, decided to strip me of my rank, pay grade and standing - because I had fraternised. It was a massive loss of privilege, prestige and face in a military society that relied on rules, obedience, respect and rank. I broke the rules and paid the price in love, life and career.
The choices we make in life are permanent. History cannot be changed.

Would I make the same choice, back then, knowing what I now know?
YES! Without hesitation.
I loved her then and I love her now…..wherever she is.
PS: For those few who have read my previous post. No...she was not a Soul Mate ;) and no she did not become my wife and mother of my children...sadly.

SOUL MATES...

2007-11-29T18:41:00.000+10:00

I hate the term 'Soul Mate' (SM) especially when it is used by someone that happened to find their SM within three blocks of where they live. "Yes, I love him. He is my soul mate. We were destined to meet and fall in love and blah, blah, blah". The cosmos did not open up and place sperm-aligned soul mates across the planet. preferably close by, for her or anyone else to stumble upon each other like so many fairy tales. We are Male and Female mammals and we are attracted to many of the opposite sex. It is what we are programmed to do. If you happen to find a partner that sends you weak at the knees (while your clothes are still on) then grab him/her with both hands but don't tell me it was destiny, the planets aligned and the big guy upstairs had a major part in it. P-lease...!!! It was more likely a tight top, a few beers and some prompting from friends ;)
God did not decide to stick the majority of SM's within three blocks of their counterpart? He* did not decide that they should grow up next door to each other? He did not decide that you will eventually find your SM really close by to where you grew up? Although, it can and does happen.
I have lived, loved and lusted in every State and Capital City in mainland Australia so does that mean that I should ,in fact, have a SM in each state but have tragically passed them by? Although, I should have married that woman in Adelaide and still think about her all these years later - God she was hot, and all class....but I digress which is my want and my usual style of blathering..
Recently, the only souls I meet are spelt differently and have an R in front (think about it) lol.
Here is my take on the Soul Mate issue...I believe there are MANY different people that we are compatible with and the one we fall in love with is the one we fall in love with...BUT...if we grew up some place else or worked in a different building or played a different sport then chances are we would fall in love with someone completely different.
Please do not take this as a scream for help from poor unpartnered Scorpy. It is what it is and I have hated the term 'Soul Mate' for a loooong time. There is no "Oh, I'm so sad that I want to crap on everyone else that has found love" this is just an observation and a dislike. Have a nice weekend. I am going to a Work Christmas party and intend to getting quietly drunk and hopefully chat up someone that does not work anywhere near where I do :)

* I accept that God could be a She but for that matter He/She is probably both.

ULTIMATE LOVE...

2007-11-25T13:01:00.001+10:00

On a lighter note from my previous diatribe,...One of my favourite books from recent times "The Time Traveller's Wife" is being made into a Movie starring Eric Banner as Henry (Troy, Black Hawk Down, Munich) and Rachel McAdams as Clare (Red Eye, Wedding Crashers, Mean Girls). I'm sure Banner will do a great job of Henry and I really hope Rachel can pull off the Clare part although the young Clare will also need talent and this little sweetheart is the young Clare -Brooklyn Proulx. It will be released some time in 2008 :)

LABOURFIED....

2007-11-25T09:18:00.000+10:00

Sob, Sob, Sob Johnny's gone and now the only senior Liberal in a position of power is the Lord Mayor (of a Labour Council) in Brisbane. We have given a single political party the key to the candy shop. God, I hope they don't stuff it up for ALL our sakes.
I hear people espousing the reasons they voted Johnny out such as:

Racist, dogwhistle politics
Removal of workers' rights
Progressive dismantling of the public healthcare system
Underfunding of universities
Under funding of public education
Inaction on climate change
Cosy deals for mates to get in early on the budding nuclear power industry

but did they ever stop and look at the good things his government did or that bad things that the Labour Government's didn't do?

You could call Johnny a lot of things but not racist.
Initiated a IR package (Worker Choices) that actually saves jobs but noone seems to care about that.
The Public healthcare system is controlled by the LABOUR states NOT the Federal.
Funding of Universities is NOT solely a Federal responsibility.
Stood his ground on the Kyoto agreement which would have stifled Australia's growth.
Public Education would be more effective if the states spent the money more wisely. Honestly, the State school systems are tragic. They should have a single syllabus and a single bureaucracy instead of every state wasting money duplicating everything. For God's sake there is only 21 million people in this country surely one system could cover the lot.
Johnny took gun control to a new level and reduced the ownership in this country dramatically.
He cleared national Debt,
He implemented the GST tax system that DOES benefit everyone and ensure everyone pays as they should) tax. Why should it be left to those that work and try to better themselves to pay for everyone else.
Gave GST revenue to Labour Governments!
Gave that revenue to the states; who do nothing but bitch and squabble about it.
Initiated a scheme to save the Murray/Darling basin but was nobbled by Labour controlled states who are not willing to lose votes over it.
He implemented a retirement system (future fund) that will pay for itself and ensure all public retirees (including Military personnel) are paid into the future...but labour want to spend that a buy a broad band system!!!

If we are speaking about cosy jobs for mates then people must be talking about the labour party and the union officials that have been voted into office. Those Unions will not stand idly by and want nothing. They will WANT their piece of the pie and that may be a return to the higher pay cycles which in turn will place more demands on the federal reserve to increase interest rates. If Australians stopped spending money like there was no tomorrow then maybe they could see that the Plasma TV and the Blue ray DVD player they bought on credit along with their higher purchase new car will add more to climate change and interest pressure than anything little Johnny could do.I've lived through Labour Governments and they bled us dry, stripped the Military, increase inflation, gave nothing to those that strived to better themselves and sent Australia into recession. I hope this lot look at History and have learnt from it because they no longer have a Senate or Liberal States to protect the people. Labour has a full majority in every aspect of politics and this cannot be a good thing. They do not need the Greens or the Democrats or the independents. They are Lord and Governor. They are the ONLY power having a say over all of us so they better put US before them!!!

PS: Labour Governments have implemented Poker Machines in EVERY state in Australia as revenue raisers. Did you know there is severe lack of government sponsored Alcohol/Gambling/Drug rehabilitation centres in Australia. There are non for nearly 7oo kilometres from my locale. If it was not for Non-Gov organisations then there would be no place for these people. In rural Queensland we have to travel to Brisbane for specialist treatment at our own expense. There is no treatment for cancer sufferers within 600 klms of where I live. Dialysis is preformed 8 hours away from here. There are more admin staff in our hospitals than medical practitioners. We have a lack of Doctors, a lack of Dentists, a lack of Nurses, a lack of neo natal care, a lack of cancer care, a requirement to hire labour from overseas because there are still people that will not do menial labour but collect the dole. What does the state government do with all of their revenue?

PAIN...

2007-11-21T04:26:00.000+10:00

As the mist cleared and the light eased back into my world I felt a deep panic. What is waiting for me on the other side of this awakening? Will I be able to walk? Will I be able to move any of my limbs? Will the pain be gone? The light got stronger as I regained consciousness. I could hear noises and someone talking to me softly, urging me to open my eyes. I could feel a soft hand gently grasping mine. I fluttered my eyes as waves of nausea enveloped me. The voice centred me and directed my thoughts to them. I moved my eyes toward her face and it gradually came into focus. She was dressed in blue scrubs and was asking me things but I could not take them in. My brain was trying to communicate with my body but the signals seemed all screwed up. I wanted to turn toward the voice but only my eyes would move. Panic started as my brain tried to overcome my paralysis but then my conscious self also realised that I could not move and I fought to move. My breathing became strained and real fear gripped me as I realised I could not move. I was drowning in air. The voice became stronger as she encouraged me to focus as asserted that I was coming out of the surgery and not to struggle. I settled as I realised I was flailing around underneath a silver blanket and other nurses had come to restrain me. The voice slowly won out and I settled as I understood that she was easing me back into life and wanted my body to explore and understand before coming fully awake. So I settled and waited and let it come naturally. I could move my toes at her command. I could grip her hand. I could open my eyes and keep them open. I could speak. I was OK but had to let the drugs wear off and let the staff help me.
I must have drifted off again because the next thing I knew I was being woken again but by a deeper voice. I opened my eyes to see a male nurse standing over me asking me many of the same questions his counterpart did. The light was paler and the room was different. It was the main ward again. My body suddenly came fully awake as I tried to turn toward him. The pain hit with such an intense, knife thrusting against bone intensity that my brain could not comprehend it all at once and shut down any movement of my body. It racked me from head to toe so I couldn't feel my extremities. It snapped my eyes shut and locked my jaw. It twisted and turned within me. It blazed along my spinal column and snapped at the base of my neck. It was the cruellest, most intense lighting stunning feeling that I had ever felt...but it was not the last. Over the next agonising eight days my body would come to dread those moments in pain. It would know when it was coming and I would cry and tears would flow freely down my cheeks. I would screw my eyes closed and pull the spare pillow to my chest as I gripped a corner of it with my teeth and waited for the impact. It would hit like a train. It would smash me so hard that my chest would constrict, I would stop breathing and my body would lock into a paralysis until it race over me as qucikly as it had arrived. I would stay locked and taut and slowly release the pillow to take shallow breaths and oxygenate my aching muscles. It was like sprinting a hundred meters; I'd waste everything for a few seconds and the take many minutes to recover. These minutes were precious as I needed my strength for the next bout. The endless needles and tablets did not seem to override the fact that my body was repairing itself from major surgery and wanted me to know it. The drains in my back and the drip snaking from my arm only added to the nightmare as these sometimes had to be replaced or reseated every time I tried to arch my spine through my skin.
I had back surgery to remove two discs (S1 and L5) from my lower spine. They removed the worst two as they did not deem it safe or practical to remove all four. The Doctor used a bone scraping from my left hip to make a 'plate' that grew over the damaged area and aid in giving it strength. I was off work for eight months and had to wear an external brace for much of that time. It was the worst eight months of my life.
Why am I writing this down? Simple really. I am trying to record the memory of something that still affects me all these years later. It cost me my Military career and held me back in rank. It later aided in my divorce for reasons I do not want to go into (No...They weren't sexual). It operation did not remove the pain from my body, as hoped, but rather it has possibly been intensified. I don't know when the beast will come but come it does. It arrived a few days ago and does not seem like it wants to leave anytime soon. I try and hide it from work as I dread the thought they finally say 'Thanks mate but you will have to move on as you are a burden to us". They know about it and it has costs them money and time as it has me but they don't know the full extent. They don't know that I have only had two hours sleep and that I cried at four o'clock this morning as my body was racked with the stabbing, constant pain. I want to tear it from my body but it moves from my lumbar to my thighs to the centre of my back. It hurts and will not go away. I grit my teeth and walk like a man of eighty. I know it will ease as the day grows longer but also that it will return tonight. It may lay dormant only to strike suddenly and without warning. It can be a simple task, like trying to stand, when it suddenly strikes and my leg will give way. I'll fall to the ground unless I am lucky enough to catch myself on something handy. It is veil and I hate it. It may disappear for months and then suddenly it strikes when I least expect it. It has struck and it knows I have to go to work today and present to the board of directors. I cannot concoct some lie or take annual leave like I normally do as this is very important. I must hope that it does not strike while I am in the room and that I can hopefully stand in a single location. I need to get through this today and I need the pain to stay at a level I can control. That is the bottom line. Pain medication does not work. New found machines do not work. Bone crackers and Physios do not work. Will power and rest is the only thing that works and today I will only be able to use one of my tools. I must tell myself that the pain is not there. After so many years I have become pretty good at fooling the brain that the pain is bearable. I know, however, that later tonight I will pay for that misleading as the intensity will be unbearable and unrelenting. I will probably lay on the lounge room floor and grip a pillow on my chest. I will wait for the pain to come and then bite down on the pillow and tense my body until it hopefully resides. I will probably still be there tomorrow morning because I will not be able to get back up. It can get that bad. Wish me luck :)

(WO)MAN in BLACK...

2007-11-17T21:21:00.000+10:00

HEAR THIS!! "Black is not slimming on everyone!!" for some people it is only slimming if you are standing against a black background on a moonless night...then it may appear slimming if the viewer is blind or wearing welding goggles!
Really fat people should not wear really tight shirts..it is just wrong and before I get accused of being a fatist (it's like an ageist but only against large people) my Dad is HUGE and I'm always abusing him for wearing shirts that are too small. I hate it when I can see more rolls than a bakery. If you've got it then don't flaunt at least not it in my direction. This also goes for bum crack on both males and females. It may be attractive on a young blonde with a 22 inch waist but not on someone that has clothes with more x's on the size tag than the collective xerox company staff logo shirt manufacturer's warehouse (now that is a lot of x's). Other tips for those without a clue:

Drinking Diet Coke will NOT absorb the animal fat from the four hotdogs you are about to eat,
When Doctor's prescribe a diet with less red meat they are not advocating a change to a diet of KFC,
When a dietician says you must eat Sea food it is spelt S.E.A not S.E.E. Do not eat everything you SEE,
All you can eat usually means a three course meal... A Soup, Main and Dessert would suffice. It does not mean ALL you can eat. Sizzler is going to soon blacklist you!,
Chocolate is NOT a food group,
Exercise is actually when you use all of your limbs for something other than eating,
If your belly touches the steering wheel and the seat is all the way back...you may need to lose some weight!!
If your child is eating cream filled cakes at 10 am and their breasts are larger than Dolly Parton's they may have some eating issues especially if that child is a ten year old BOY!!,

So ends my revelations from a ten minute trip to the supermarket to buy some salad ingredients this morning.

LESSON LEARNED?....

2007-11-09T09:40:00.000+10:00

Indy wrote a piece the other day and it related to a date he'd had and the observation that some of us 'settle' for a partner once certain aspects of our life meld such as age, finances, looks etc…He summed it up perfectly in his epilogue tilted:

Lesson Learned: That there is a point in everyone's life, different for each, where age and the fear of being alone converge, where the concept of still having time simply vanishes, and at that point, beauty, intelligence and even riches do nothing to stop our hearts conspiring against what is good for us and letting us believe that the most deluded situations will work out in manner that we dream. We madly grasp for the nearest "mediocre" connection in the hope that it will somehow be exactly what we want, we trade in our desire and our dreams for the hollow "security" of the most deluded scenarios.

I started to comment and then suddenly realised that this post could be about me, and that Indy had captured what was happening to me and I now presume a lot of other people. Here is my response to his post:

The lessons learned hit home a little closer than I'd like. The stalker, although my nemesis, has slowly changed in the way I think of her. She is no longer the demonic demon, scratching her nails on my driveway or licking the window or my bedroom from the outside...she has changed as my wants and needs have changed. As I have changed and possibly become the person in the lessons learned...maybe I should write a post about this...I think I am settling and I don't seem to be fighting back as I once did!! :(

I am that person. I have seriously been deluding myself. I have started to think of a life settled. I have started forgiving stalker for her faults and accepting her.

She is rich,
She is work motivated,
She owns a very nice home that has doubled in value in the last 24 months,
She is acceptable in the sack,
She doesn't mind a drink,
She likes me...a lot!!!,
She has not kids but is not adverse to mine.

How soon have I forgotten that she aslo:

Stalked me,

Texted me constantly,

Appeared at any venue or function I attended,

Would turn up at my house unannounced,

Made my personal life hell.

These may not seem like major criminal actions but to me they were very intrusive and totally unacceptable but here I am accepting her, well in my thoughts anyway. She does not know I have been having these thoughts and hopefully she won’t but will the day soon arrive where I DO settle. Will I take what I can and get out of the rat race? Will I bail on all my expectations and forget about who I was and who I am?
Will I no longer think of the conquests, the loves, the women yet unnamed? Will I forget the beauty, the curves, the lines, the sex, the mind, the feelings and the looks? Or am I realistically not adjusting my parameters as I age? Should I take off the rose coloured glasses and take a real look around at who and what I have become. I am no longer the blonde haired football star in a military uniform that did not have to work too hard for female company. I took all of those early years for granted and have not adjusted to reality.
Truth be known, I don’t feel any different yet I know I look and act differently. Is this the realisation that makes us want to settle? Do we wake up one day and finally realise that we are not who we think we are?

BIRTHDAY BLUES...

2007-11-05T19:23:00.000+10:00

OK, I was outed by Redcap in the comments of my last post. Somehow, Miss Journalist has remembered that my Birthday is today. Thanks Red :)
I received a card from my parents, last Friday, and the gang at work bought me a cake and we ate it in between some very hectic meetings. Now, I don't want presents and I especially don't want Happy Birthday sung to me but I did want my daughters to ring me...alas, I look at the clock and realise that they will soon be in bed and the Dragon lady has either forgotten to remind them or possibly told them not to ring and wait until Friday when I see them again...believe me she would and has done the latter before.

Birthday Count:
Cards x 1 (from parents and they have top send one right?)
Phone call x 1 (from Dad but interrupted by a thunderstorm so we had to hang up)
Cake x 1 (from the crew at work and it is scheduled into one of the PAs calendars so no one ever misses out)
Presents x Nil
Text Messages x 1 (from the stalker and it was really nice...shut-up I was feeling left out)
Contact from four Brothers and Sisters x Nil (we aren't a close family obviously)
Edit: My LLs called at 07:00 this morning as I was running late for work it was lucky they got me. They couldn't ring last night as the storm that blew in cut power to their place. I love my girls and they really made my day :)

ROLE REVERSAL...

2007-11-01T14:43:00.000+10:00

When you sit down as a youngin’ and try to map out your future there is one form of future that guys never aspire to…and don’t go gettin’ your knickers in a twist because this is a generalisation of females and may only affect those women that can’t afford a laptop and therefore cannot blog and therefore don’t have a chance to rebuke this…but I digress… the aspiration is that of being a woman of leisure. No! Not a woman of pleasure I said leisure!

There is a type of woman that does not think of a skill or career path but of marrying the guy with the skill and career. She looks at marrying his money and future and hopes that he can give her a life that she wants.
I haven’t heard of any guys that have thought the same although there very well may be. I don’t know any guys that have formulated their life around the fall back position of being a house Dad - Not that there is anything wrong with that. I would love to be a house Dad. I would love my partner to go off to work all day while I looked after the rug rats and took care of the house and all the tasks associated with our humble abode. I even brought it up with my ex but she exploded when I said that I wanted to give up work. She and I were working fulltime although we didn’t need the money but we had two young girls and a farm to look after. I thought it was the opportune time for me to pull the plug and look after the castle and kidlets….but Oh No!… "It is the man’s responsibility to work and to be the bread winner" she would rant "My Dad hasn’t had a day off in two decades and still manages to come home and work around the farm until dark" she would offer as some type of goal for me to aspire to. Pigs arse! Why can’t a guy elect to be the non monetary partner? I’d worked since I was fifteen and I thought it was time for me to take a break. I like the idea of bringing up my kids.
In my next life I am starting a youth movement for guys that want to be house Dads. This will be our goal in life. We will marry career orientated girls. We will work to put them through University and to bear our offspring and then sit back while she rakes in the dough. She can be the one that has the stress of an arsehole boss, she can be the one that comes home and listens to us bitch about our day and the kids misbehaving. We can tell her she is getting fat and drinking too much. We will be in charge of buying her outfits and selecting the right meals, after all, we have to watch her weight and keep all those He-devils away from our woman.
Will I feel that she has let me down if she arrives home late with the smell of Riesling on her breath or the fact that she hasn’t mowed the lawn this week? Will she worry when I go out with the boys for a night or will she just curl up in front of the TV with a beer and fall asleep like I didn’t exist? Will she respect me for the job I am doing at home? Will she love our kids? Will she be happy? Why doesn’t she buy me nice things? When was the last time she arrived home with a gardening implement or power tool for me? Does she even think about me when she is at work?
What will the conversations be like?

House Dad: "Listen Wilma, you really need to see the Doctor about that pap smear…you aren’t getting any younger"
Working Mum: "Yeah right"
House Dad: "Wilma, are you even listening to me?"
Working Mum: "Yeah right"
House Dad: "What was that?"
Working Mum: "I said you’re right, now get off my back. I’ve been at work since six this morning and this is the first free time I’ve had to do my nails all day."
House Dad: "…Sob…You don’t love me. I made you a special dinner too"
Working Mum: "I’m sorry baby, what did you make?"
House Dad: "BBQ!"
Working Mum: "That’s the fourth time this week!"

So in this topsy-turvey world of women at work and men at home…who will mow the lawn? Who will take out the garbage? My bet is that it will still be the woman wearing the pants!!!

STALKERLESS?....

2007-10-27T11:39:00.000+10:00

So there I was, sitting in my apartment ,after a long day at work and teaching classes, when the dreaded 'Beep Beep' alerts me to a text. I knew it wasn't work, as they ring, and I knew it wasn't family because they don't ring at all ...it had to be either the Ex or 'Stalker Girl'.
The Ex texts because apparently we do not talk as we are Ex's and that is the done thing even if it is about the LL's which it normally is...but that is another story. It was 'Stalker Girl'! The message read:
"Won't b able to catch up as im goin away 4 5 weeks with work 2 Townsville"
Note: to the non aussies and those that don't know where I live but can now narrow it down to a googlesearch: Townsville is eight+ hours drive north.

"Yippee!" says I in my inner dialogue much like Zach Braff from Scrubs but again I digress... I fell for the advertising ploy of direct callers, checking to see if I was home. I responded "Lucky u" and thought I am free for 5 weeks but immediately I knew I had fallen into her trap. My home phone rang and as I peeled myself from the roof and realised I must turn down the Ring Volume, I answered it...Dumb!
"Hi, Scorpy. You're Home!" She stated
"Yep" I replied cautiously whilst thinking up some excuse such as my home phone has been diverted to my Satellite phone and I'm actually in the middle of the Simpson Desert.
"Just thought I'd call and let you know about my fantastic opportunity and that we can't catch up this weekend. Sorry." She babbled on
"I didn't know we were to catch up" I replied still running through the list of excuses I have used over the years...Mother Illness, Father illness, Going overseas, I have the LLs with me etc
"Yeah, I had planned to take you out to dinner but now I can't, sorry. We'll catch up when I get back. I leave early tomorrow morning...I'm packing now...Oooh..gotta go another call coming in. Seeya" click
Did I just get hung up on? Yes..I believe I did! What does this mean? Who cares? She will be away from my town for five weeks. I can go out without hiding in the shadows. Yah :)
I thought nothing more of it and went back to my well earned beer.
Late this morning (11:00 a.m) I knew I needed some things from the local supermarket so I sped off and made my purchases and thought I'd top up the car on the way home. I was standing in line, waiting to pay, when immediately in front of me I spy Stalker Girl turning away from the counter. I didn't see her car so how did she get here? I always check for her car before I pull into any car park or service centre as it avoids contact. I could not hide nor flee so prepared for the usual onslaught of small talk and flirting....but...
As she turned I noticed her reddened eyes, from a big night out, and a look in those two puckered brown pools...it was not the usual 'creepy-dreamy-stalker' look it was total shock and SHE was the one looking for an exit strategy.
"Hi, I thought you were leaving early this morning" I blurted
"Uuuummmm...Yeah, that's right...I'm leaving right now. Just filling the car...gotta go" she stammered as she fled through the automatic doors. I turned and looked for her car but it was not there and then I saw her jump behind the wheel of a totally hot sports car, slump down behind the wheel and burn rubber out of the station. I paid for my fuel and walked back to my car.
She had lied to me, She had avoided me and she had ditched me...even though we are NOT seeing each other. I should be deliriously happy. The Stalker was into someone else and had lied to me. So why did I not feel the warmth and happiness that should come with the freedom from a women that has chased after me for the best part of four years?
I'll tell you why....because deep down in those crazy little places that we keep locked, we WANT to be WANTED. Simple really. Thank you all for listening . You may now resume your normal weekend blogging.

DIAL a DATE...

2007-10-16T20:46:00.000+10:00

Betty had a story about some sailors the other day and it reminded me of my time in the Navy when we would go to different ports around the World and Australia.
As we were away from home, the Navy and local communities would stage events for us such as, Sporting events where we would play a local team, formal dinners where selected guys would be invited to cocktail parties and opening events, there would be fairs and dances and tours of wineries and local landmarks but the one we all waited for was ‘Dial a Sailor’ (DAS). Local radio stations would precurse our arrival with advertisements noting our date at Berth and how to ‘Dial In’. They would list expectations and where we were from etc.
We would arrive in port and some of us would go off to the official functions and others would just head for the nearest pub. After being at sea for a few weeks or more we needed a Beer and then female company, in that order…There were no women on my ship and that is another topic for another Day.
The DAS would be set up usually within the first few hours, sometimes the Radio station would do a live broadcast from the ship or the Wharf and we would get hundreds of women dialling in or turning up to select their sailor.There was usually a board and it would have such gems as:

1 x Sailor
Bring Beer and a toothbrush
Ring Candy on 555-……

4 x Sailors required
Beach Party
Age 22-25
Call Dianne on 555-.…

The idea was that you tore off a ticket and rang the girl. If she agreed to hook up then you would make plans. If she didn’t agree or she sounded like a guy dressed in a cape then you put the ticket back on the board.
I have met some great women around the world and Australia thru the DAS service. No strings, No comparisons, No guilt, No Baggage.
They knew we were oversexed, thirsty, young and fit and usually had a few unopened pay packets sitting around. You can’t buy anything when your at sea.
I got invited by this girl to a one-on-one in Auckland, New Zealand and she was incredible. I think she was either married, in a relationship or just broken up from one as her house had that guy feel to it. It was a bloody mansion. She would also not tell me her name and I gave her a bogus one anyway. It wasn’t as if we were going to start a Pen Pal club. She kissed me as we got into her car like I was her long lost lover returning from an extended overseas holiday. She chatted about the local landmarks as we drove past them and the culture of the beautiful city of Auckland with its many harbours and waterways. It is truly majestic with all of the yachts billowing sail against the background of blue water and cityscape.
She talked like we were great friends and intimate on a friendship level. I returned serve and told her about where I came from and interspersed her commentary with questions about the sites and she readily responded and touched my arm as she pointed and explained. I was so at ease with her and a little scared. Why wasn’t she asking the normal questions...How old are you, are you single, asking about my background and hometown etc. She needed to ask some questions to see if I was sane or an axe murder dressed as a sailor...but her tack was obviously different. She wanted to see me relaxed and in a normal light. She obviously liked what she saw and heard as we eventually pulled over, at a small park beside one of the many waterways, and she extracted a picnic basket and wine cooler from the boot (trunk for you Nth Americans) of her car.
I helped by spreading the blanket she proffered and set about wining and dining me in the sun as the water reflected from the sails of the passing yachts. It was truly magic but still it unsettled me. She treated me like she knew me but then again I responded like I knew her. I laughed at her humour, I brushed the hair from her cheek as the ocean breeze made it dance over her face, I leant toward her and listened attentively. She was very charismatic and had an aura that drew me to her. I wanted her very badly and I think she knew it. We had been together for only a few hours but that second kiss almost made me lose control. It started in my feet and quickly raced through my body. She tasted of strawberries and her hair smelled of apples. Her skin was soft and taught as was her body. She had strength and passion and I knew immediately where the rest of this day was going...and it did but maybe that too is for another day.
I miss those Navy days but at least the memories will last forever…well at least until I develop old peoples disease. You know the one... my Dad calls it CRAFT disease ‘Cant-Remember-A-Fucking-Thing' ... LOL

JUST SCRUB IT...

2007-10-12T20:30:00.000+10:00

Want to ditch the world for a while? Want to laugh until you cry? Just rent or buy a seasons worth of SCRUBS, sit back and forget the problems of the day.

This is my sense of humour and for the life of me I do not know why Australian TV programmers put it on at 11:30 at night and recently they have even taken that away from us. Along with Boston Legal (10:30 pm) these are my two favourite shows. Shatner is hilarious!!
---oOo---

As a side note Silver Chair and Powder Finger are playing an open air gig about FIVE kilometres away and I can feel the bass through my house and every dog in the street is going apeshit!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY J...

2007-10-08T22:17:00.000+10:00

---oOo--- Happy Birthday Princess ---oOo---
You are my life, my love and my best friend

MYSTERY GIRL Revisted...

2007-10-05T18:28:00.000+10:00

I was coming awake but afraid to open my eyes. My head was pounding, my throat was parched and I was desperately trying to piece together the jigsaw that was the night before. I could sense that I was not alone and I sleepily draped my arm across the body beside me feigning sleep so as not to alert them that I was actually conducting a tactile search to discover the identity of my sleeping partner. It was warm blooded, athletic yet smooth and definitely female. Thank God! My roaming fingers did nothing to alert me to her identity but it did receive some positive responses and soft mewing that sounded vaguely familiar.
I had to open my eyes. They came apart slowly and accepted the light reluctantly as my pupils dilated to the size of pinholes and my head started to hurt even more. O.K . Find out where we and our clothes are.
I am in my large canvas swag (Aussie Bush Sleeping bag come tent) obviously with another body. I can see her tanned shoulder and graceful neck, topped with Auburn hair, semi buried in the folds of the Swag. We are on the floor in my divisional office (come change room) and I can see my immaculately starched uniforms neatly hanging in a row with my crumpled civilian clothes, from the night before, discarded on the floor below my desk.
Why am I naked with a strange woman, at work on a ….. Saturday? Yeah! it’s Saturday. What do I do now? Try and Remember! Geoff! I was out with Geoff and the boys on his bucks night. It all started to flood back.
We had planned to go out on Friday night and then crash back at the base. We were all Recruit Instructors in the Air Force and we each had an office with shower available, on base. It was the perfect retreat. So….having decided our course of action – Drink, more drinks then spirits – we hit the town. We were having a great time when we met a bunch of female recruits or rather they met us. We were all in an early twenties as were the girls. Strictly speaking we were now in breach of Air Force Law as we were ‘fraternising’ and this carried extreme repercussions including dismissal from the service…but we were drunk and there endeth our responsible thought process. Our small brains took over. We were young, fit, drunk and young, fit, drunken women were making themselves available. These were women that wanted an instructor, not us personally but the title. We’d seen it all before and we didn’t really care what their motives were or that the CSIRO was conducting an evaluation of in locos parentis, where the parent figures (the instructors) were only in their early twenties as opposed to professors etc at uni – however, I digress. We were drunk and they were drunk and it was a given that sex was somewhere on the horizon. The night obviously unfolded and I ended up in my swag in my office with a tanned shoulder topped by Auburn hair now naked and snuggled spoon like against me.
SHIT! I had arranged for my girlfriend ‘L’ to come and pick me up at 0930. SHIT! What is the time? I twisted around to view the clock on the opposite wall. SHIT! 0915. The girl stirred behind me and I felt her roll over and rest her hand on my back. SHIT! What was I going to do? How was I going to get her out of my office? And Quickly? What would happen if L walked in now? What would happen if an officer walked in now? I had to get rid of her - fast. Who is she? What is her name? SHIT! Time running out! Bite the bullet. Be a man.
I rolled over and my heart stopped. There before my eyes was my very naked and gorgeous girlfriend L. How did she get here? Where was the other girl? What the hell was going on? My head hurt!
"Hi Baby" I stammered "what are you doing here?" I was past petrified.
L explained that she and the rest of the gfs had decided to go out whilst us boys were whooping it up. They had partied in Adelaide until the wee small hours when she decided that she would surprise me. She caught a cab to the base and came to my office. She opened the door and found me fast asleep in my swag. Alone it would seem. She disrobed and crawled into the swag beside me. This was not the first time I had played up nor was it the last but it was the closest that I had come thus far to being found out. I still do not know who the other girl was or how she managed to slip away before L arrived but I am glad she did.
This happened a long time ago and although I am not proud of what I used to be like I do not apologise for it, as it is a part of my life experience. My life has been accompanied by many set backs but an equal number of experiences that I will never regret nor forget. I hope to jot down a few more over the coming weeks. It is very cathartic.

Back from BLAH, BLAH, BLAH...

2007-10-02T20:26:00.000+10:00

Sorry Vi but it wasn't your Blah :). I have returned from the doldrums. I had a great couple of days with the LLs and they recharged my batteries. They took all of the accompanying pics...clever aren't they?
I also took everyone's advice and did the following:

Watched some DVDs
Read a book,
Wrote some Blog posts (will post them later),
Drank some Bundy (sorry Wombat but had to go with the regular),
Started saving for a plane ticket ;)

....Mmmm, now what was the other thing I did that took my mind off of my day to day dramas?....thinking, thinking....Oh Yeah...I got LAID!!!!!! and NO I am not going to talk about it on the same post as my LLs but they had gone home before she came around for dinner and...extras.
So it will have to wait but rest assured it was GREAT!!!!!!!!! and Yes!!! There was someone else present and that someone was female and that someone was/is living and that someone wasn't paid - honestly some of you are such cynics ;)

Blah, Blah, Blah...

2007-09-26T14:23:00.000+10:00

I have nothing to say….I am blank, numb, void of ideas and memories worthy of noting. Have all of my ‘good’ stories and flamboyant antics been already told? Could I have exhausted my well worn life on this here blog? Don’t I have anything left to share? Well it seems not at this time. I am tired, worn out and a little bit down trodden... although... It need not be commented on. I am not at the long end of a short drop and the sharp implements are still safe in the kitchen. I am just ~shrugs shoulders~ blank. I want to lay on the lounge and watch TV and DVDs. I want the occasional blast on my X-Box and to cheer my football team on in this weekend’s Grand Final (Go Manly!!!)….I don’t want to get out of bed, I don’t want to work, I don’t want to read emails or answer my phones. I don’t want to get caught up in the multiple shit storms and politics of the blogoverse. What is with some people and the way they carry on... It is like a bad TV show... If you don’t like it TURN IT OFF or in this case STOP VISITING THEM!!!! (PS: Leave my friends alone too!!)

I will probably break free of my doldrums but at the moment I am laid back and cruising through some tough times as my LLs are away again for an extended period... so for the immediate future I will be here but not here, if you know what I mean... because I don’t - lol
I may post and I may not but don’t hold that against me, unless you’re naked and then we could probably work something out…Damn, now I’m all toey.

I have to get laid ;)... who wants to go halves in a plane ticket? lol

I’ll be dropping by so don’t let your blog’s slide, like this slacker. I expect them all to keep me entertained whilst I am in my morose state. Hurry up and get to work I need something to read...especially, you in the back …yes you!...the one reading blogs naked ;)

DREAMS...

2007-09-19T10:30:00.000+10:00

I’m sorry but I was called away, for work, last week and have been down by the water, liaising with the international sea faring community. …but now I am back…at least for a little while.

----oOo----

Did you ever dream, when you were younger, of the life you would have when you were older?…you know ..when you were at least twenty! :)

Did you dream and talk about the adventures your life would have, the people you would meet, the partner you would share it with and the house you would live in?

Did you fantasise about the romance and wonder of your future marriage, the children you would bring into the world, the glory they and you would achieve?

Did you ever stop and wonder why your dreams were always something grander than that which your parents had surrendered to? Did you ever stop and think about how you were going to pay for all of these wondrous things? Did you map out your career and savings plan? Did you factor in a budget strategy for emergencies, insurances, car payments, child care, clothing, food, electricity? Did you stop and wonder why your parents had settled for the house that they had, restricted your shopping to a set amount and made you wear hand me downs? Did you belittle them and think them not worthy of your lofty dreams?

So if you thought of all of these things then when was it that you established the fact that you require responsibility to achieve anything? When did you finally realise that dreams have to be paid for - in time, experience, hard work and money?

When did you finally realise that you had the choice to make and when did you make it?

When was the day you had to stop dreaming and start growing up? When did the fun stop and life catch up with you?

I look back at my life and wonder what has happened to it. Did I meet those lofty goals of my early teens? Did I meet the girl, buy the dream and have the adventure?

If I am truly honest with myself then I would have to say YES! I have married, I have loved and I have achieved. It may all be lost now but at least I had achieved my goals, had my fun and adventure, loved with true passion and pain and brought the most beautiful children into the world…My problem is that I did not hold on to them….well not full time anyway, in the case of my daughters.

So my dilemma now is this, do I once again begin to dream or do I settle for my old goals set when I was a teenager without knowledge of life and its pitfalls? Do I dream new dreams with new endings and do those dreams involve my daughter’s dreams and aspirations?

I think I will settle on the later…I have had my adventures so now it is their turn….they will be educated in life and schooling to the best of my ability, they will drink in experiences of cultures, religions, adventures, landscapes and sports. They will be given chances to try new things and even fail at a few. They will be introduced to food and wine, music and art. They will be given the chance to establish their own opinions, their own beliefs, their own set of values but I hope beyond all hope that the example I set and the life they have been opened up to will allow their dreams to be more realistic and achievable. I want them happy in the knowledge that are prepared when they have to make the choice to grow up and achieve their dreams.

The RIGHT THING TO DO II...

2007-09-12T12:26:00.000+10:00

At the end of 2005, it seems eons ago, I came to the rescue of a damsel in distress but no one knew it, except her (and the blogverse) and that was enough for me. Yesterday, however my LLs saw it first hand and it made me feel even better…

A woman stood on the edge of the footpath and balanced a baby on her left hip, a key ring jangled from her fingertips. Her right hand was wrapped around the handle of a pram, which contained a child that was a little older. A third child, about two years old, wandered away from the mother’s distressed cry to return. The young mother was trying to negotiate the kerb onto the car park surface but that tiny drop from the kerb proved too much. Its an easy enough task if you have two free hands and adherent children.

She was at a loss and clearly disturbed that she couldn’t accomplish this simple task.

A man walked toward her, holding hands with his own daughters, as he headed into the mall with all the other people walking just past the concerned mum.

"Would you like a hand" he smiled, as he took the handles of the stroller, tilted it back and lowered the wheels to the car park. He then turned and retrieved the runaway toddler as she ran past giggling with the delight of the game she was playing with her mum.

The mother was almost crying as she expressed her thanks and took hold of the runaway child. “No Worries” he replied and returned to his daughters.

As they walked into the mall, the daughters kept staring at him and the eldest said…

"Daddy, I am so proud of you"

I beamed a smile and my chest pounded, without thinking, I had helped a woman in distress and presented a life lesson to my daughters. I was happy and it hadn’t cost me anything.

When we were leaving the mall they asked for some change. I passed over a few coins and they walked to the Salvation Army guy, by the entrance, and deposited the change into the collection box.

I AM making a difference in their lives.

PS: I have been to the Dentist and all is well. She repaired the work done by the previous white coated tormentor and once the swelling goes down I can once again start eating :) thanyou one and all for your best wishes :)

A MEMORY FOR J...

2007-09-08T13:55:00.001+10:00

The early morning sun reflected off the water laden, artificial turf. The streamers, of each team, competed with the coloured balloons for the attention of the breeze. Ten to twelve year old girls gathered loudly, adorned in their team colours, eager to start the game of their lives thus far.
This was the under 12 girls Grand Final. The culmination of a season of hoarse throated parents yelling encouragement. A season of learning new skills and behaviours. A season of meeting new friends. A season of latter day memories. This day will forever be etched in their collective conscious.
The siren wailed, warning one and all that the game was imminent. No more training, no more drills, no more chances. The girls gathered around their coaches and listened to last minute instructions and encouragement. The coaches were on tenterhooks, worrying for their charges. Two speeches had been prepared for the inevitable result of win or lose. Elation or regret. The siren roared again, stating the time had come.
Twenty two girls charged out onto the pitch and shook hands and mumbled acknowledgements to their respective opposition. Position were taken up and nerves took a final flutter. the umpires looked around, raised their arms, to alert the crowd and blew their whistles to initiate the game that ended the season.
Rustling skirts, bobbing pony tails, clashing sticks, high pitched whistles, anguish, elation, cheers, applause, breathlessness, pace...the game was twenty minutes old before anyone took a decent breath....Goal...it was so sudden but the result of sustained pressure from the opposition...cheers, backslapping and huge smiles were the reactions of the scoring side. Our girls looked crestfallen as the walked back to the centre dragging their sticks...but they were determined as they had beaten this side two weeks previously. They did not give up although they walked to the half time huddle 1-0 down.
A change of ends could mean a change of fortune but the young women had to get back to basics and keep control of both the ball and their emotions. The sun continued to beat down on the arena as the game progressed...the girls tired, the runs weren't as long, the ball not hit as hard, the chases lacked conviction but slowly and surely their dogged defence turned into attack and their raids into enemy territory were soon rewarded as the ball was slammed into the backing board of the opposing goal. The stands erupted and the team emotions were reversed as our girls lifted their heads, smiled, back slapped each other and huddled together as they ran back to the centre to start another foray. It was 1-1 and 15 minutes still remained. Could they hang on? Could they win? These thoughts make people play differently as they either defend their goal or attack for the win. A draw would be enough to share the prize but a win could be so much more and be cherished forever. Our girls were too young and too in the moment to think of forever. They were thinking of now. the cheers and clapping resounded around the arena. Over zealous parents screamed encouragement . Time flipped over on the field clock...minute by minute, second by second . The skirts rustled less, the pony tails had lost their bounce, the chases were reduced to a few slow strides as both teams petered in the sun and the fact that they had been running from end to end for an hour. It was bitter-sweet, therefore, that the final second ticked over and the siren screamed to signal that it was over. The Grand Final had ended in a tie. Perplexed officials stood around and tried to apply rules for older teams and divisions to these younger children. They applied another five exhausting minutes for each team to battle it out dropping off players from each side to reduce the talent and make the field seem larger but it was all to no avail as they remained deadlocked at the end of their struggle. The prize would be shared. Equal winners. It was a bit of a let down, as draws are, because we are taught winning and losing not drawing. The emotions were stated and each team retreated to their coaches for some explanation. They were winners....the teams could not be split. Each team then filed past their respective fans of parents, siblings, friends and grand parents. They were clapped and cheered as befitted their efforts. Our girls were winners. They had taken the Grand Final and would hold the trophy, jointly, until next season. They collected their medals and stood with their fans accepting the praise and the beaming smiles of proud parents and friends. My daughter was a Grand Final winner and with that the season was over. Tennis will start in a few weeks though. Well played J :)

Note: If you don't know or haven't worked it out my daughter plays Field Hockey. It is just called Hockey, in Australia, and as a country we are very good at it, winning many Gold medals in the Olympics and world tournaments.

Note 2: I wrote this for J so that in years to come she can see how I saw one of my proudest days. I've matched some photos with the original and placed it in her 'file'. I have one for each of the girls. A modern day scrap book :)

MATES....

2007-09-07T16:19:00.000+10:00

**I'm on a bit of a blog hiatus as I endure this pain from my bloody tooth....Still have to wait until next Wednesday. The pain is unbearable!!! Anyway, this is a post from September last year and is apt as I gear up for my reunion in early October. I cannot wait to see these guys again.
*** That's me in the black pants after we pulled the guy out of the car wreck

----oOo-----

What do I miss the most about the military? Good question! I’m glad you asked…I miss my mates and their camaraderie.

It is a thing forged in hard work, fear, shared loneliness and dependability. Even in peace, we shared a bond of trust during exercises and times of civil catastrophe that held us together…

We fought a raging bush fire in an unfamiliar area without the correct equipment, in the dead of night, but we battled for people we did not know, to save their lives and their homes. We shared stale sandwiches and lukewarm coffee, the morning after, as matter of reward. We were tired and filthy but we were a team. Ash Wednesday is now etched in Australian history.

We flew at 400 feet above towering waves in an aircraft lashed by cyclonic winds in search of a lost yachtsman and my life and the rest of those in the aircraft were in the hands of our pilot. I was scared shitless and after the mission I asked the pilot how he felt and he had felt the same. We found the yacht 'Rockin Robin' and dropped a life raft but the crew was subsequently lost at sea due to the extreme conditions.

We dragged four guys from a car wreck on an isolated highway in the outback and performed CPR for two hours only to arrive at the nearest hospital with a dead man that we did not know. We were back at work within the hour. Sometime later, someone told us it was reported in the paper and we were given little gongs by people with lots of gongs.

We jumped from a hovering helicopter into a raging sea to practice how to save lives. We were scared but did it together as a team. Guys in my team used those skills during the tragic 1998 Sydney to Hobart yacht race.

We ran 15 kilometers in full kit and rifle dragging weaker guys along because we all needed to finish. We all stayed and helped with scant regard for our personal times. They were our mates.

We hung out of helicopters whilst a fuel hose was winched up from the ship below so we could refuel in flight (HIFR). We were scared but knew that the guy behind us and our harness would save us. There was no Government - Health and Safety advisor standing behind us.

We put our faith in our mates as we planted charges on unexploded ordnance, or dug beneath the earth to find UXB shells. All the while, we were sweating with the heat and the fear although we bantered amongst each other and laughed it off.

We fought battles, in the streets and pubs, when one of ours was threatened.

We climbed walls and abseiled off cliffs, stood on the tailgate of a Hercules as it flew at 15,000 feet and watched the clouds roll by and paratroopers take a leap of faith .

We stood on the ship's deck, with loaded weapons, and scanned the ocean for sharks as our mates swam in the pacific.

I left my family and school friends behind at the age of 15 and endured the adventure with a new band of brothers. We shared constant practical jokes, bad food and regimentation but through it all the humour (mainly sarcasm) held everyone together. We did the dangerous stuff because it was our job. It is like the proverb ‘If a tree falls in the forest and there is nobody around does it make a sound?’ The defence force is that tree and the falling was our work – no one heard us, lest there was a time of crisis.

The Aussie serviceman is, when all is said a done, a member of a special family of quite achievers that are anything but quite.

NOTE: The first 17 comments were from last year when this was originally posted so some of you may have already commented :)

MOLAR MAYHEM...

2007-09-04T05:33:00.000+10:00

Have you ever been in pain? I don’t mean the kind from a broken heart or a stubbed toe…I mean the type of unbearable pain that encompasses every waking and sleeping moment of your being. I am in such pain now…the result of some bad dental work performed by a sadistic, white-coated, torture worker dressed in the guise of a Dental surgeon. She has since been dismissed from her post, as head torturer, leaving a trail of destruction requiring re constructive dental work among a plethora of sufferers…I being one of them. Over the past two weeks I have known first numbness and then a persistent pain that has steadily increased in both intensity and frequency. The pain now prevents sleep at night (it is currently 5.20 am) and any coherent thoughts during the day…just look at my last blathering post….What was I talking about?

In my mid size rural metropolis, there is an undersupply of Dentists and the waiting lists are long and frustrating. My annual check ups are annual only because it takes a year to rebook between visits…he is not the sadist btw. I changed from my dentist because of the long delay only to stumble upon the Satan’s she-devil, fang descaler….the fluoride fairy she aint!

Anyway…she botched a relatively simple repair on a molar and it has erupted into sometime of time bomb that ticks loud and painfully within the confines of my jaw. It pulses with a life of its own sending shock after shock thru my failing body. A body racked from lack of sleep, lack of food and unremitting, throbbing pain!!!

I rang every dentist in town and finally got an appointment 6 weeks hence…I was ecstatic and crestfallen, all at once…finally I would get rid of this evil pain but I had to wait for another 42 pain filled days…another 42 sleepless nights, another 42 days of paracetamol and warm compresses…I did not think I could hold out…the light at the tunnel was calling me…I was fading and then suddenly the receptionist rang back with some hope…she renewed the light. There had been a cancellation from a 14 year old with perfect teeth that had years to wait for any real decay to set in anyway…my appointment is now in six pain filled days time… I will struggle thru the agony, I will do it for my children, I will do it for I am not a coward, I will do it because this fucking pain is the most intense unbearable and constant thing I have ever endured….Get this bloody tooth out of my head NOW!!!!!

CHECK MATE....

2007-09-03T19:09:00.000+10:00

I have been blogging for a few years now and I have seen many posts on checklists for qualities in a new male partner. They are split into a few categories and include such things as:
VALUES and STANDARDS:
Honesty
Good sense of Humour
Manners
Grammar
Empathy
APPEARANCE:
Nice Hands
Hair Colour and Style
Eye Colour
Body Shape
Doesn’t bite fingernails
ANCILLARY:
Financially Sound
Nice Car
Nice House
Clean House

…of course, the lists vary greatly but I think you get the idea. I often see things like "I could never love a man that bites his fingernails" or "I want a man that is successful, funny, loves kids and is great in bed".

I’d hate to think that every time I walk past a single woman that I am being sized up against a checklist. If we have preconceived ideas of our ideal partner and a checklist of positives that we cannot bend from then I feel all hope is lost. Love and relationships would never stand a chance against a checklist especially if it is whipped out on the first date. First dates are phoney and guys use a checklist, of sorts, to get past that first hurdle – hopefully.

The first parts of our counter checklist is in line with the Value and Standards from the female list:

Always be honest in your answers to the best of your ability without giving away your life story or some deep dark secret that you don’t want her to know about. She can’t gauge your honesty unless she has an inside friend or has been stalking you anyway.

Laugh at the appropriate times, without being too loud or doing that stupid snorting thing where you sound like your going to choke.

Be on your best behaviour by throwing in pleases and thankyous at every available opportunity. Give her freedom to speak and encourage it. Compliment her shoes and choice of outfit, even if it is hideous, as she obviously thought she looked a million bucks when she put the ensemble together.

Watch what you say and how you say it. Speak clearly and emphasise key points from her conversation without going over the top and sounding like a history professor or a Detective from a cheap movie.

Tell her how you sponsored a child in a downtrodden third world country or worked weekends at a youth camp. She will melt if you can sell it and it may even be true. The point is at this stage she CANNOT tell either way.

See…we can generally get through the first list as those things take a lifetime to work out. A persons values and standards have to be tested and seen in the light of day in normal everyday circumstances.

The Second list, relating to appearance, to me, should be a spontaneous thing. Do they take your breath away when you first see them? Is there some chemical and physical attraction?…I find it hard to believe that if the picture in your head; the guy from your dreams, suddenly sprang from the cover of a cheap romance novel – that you would turn to your gf and say…"Oh My God, he bites is nails" and then quickly turn and walk away from the hideous beast. A persons 'look' is genetic and they cannot change it. Sure, they can cosmetically enhance or train certain aspects of it but in general what you see is what you get. A checklist of any sorts demeans all men, the same as if men scored women totally on breast size or natural hair colour.

The third list is trainable. What is trainable? I’m glad you asked. Any woman can train a man to be a better person; it just takes time and effort. How much do you want this guy? If his house is a pigsty then train him! Remove something that he yearns for until it is cleaned up….namely Sex. Doesn’t save money? Then do the same thing. Cut him off from your vault until he starts putting some of his hard earned into a bank vault. Encourage him, nurture him, cajole him, teach him and he will usually come around to your way of thinking. ‘Behind every great man is a great woman’ is a true and accurate statement. Pavlov did to dogs what women can do to men! A fault does not Breaketh the man and neither do the clothes.

If you get to the bottom of it and you are still hung up on romance checklists...then you need to do a simple Wants versus Needs analysis. You lace ALL of your WANTS on one side and then your needs on the other side. Now your wants will probably be extremely lengthy with attributes surpassing Superman and the father of the year but there should be a SINGLE NEED.

WANTS	NEEDS
VALUES	I NEED A MAN!!!
LOOKS
MONEY
CAR
HOUSE

So what is all the blathering about? Simple! Tear up your lists and give every guy a chance. The next guy you dis for his hair style could turn out to be the next Bill Gates or the author of a book titled ‘I make you cum or die trying’…but you’ll never know if they have failed the instant tick and flick test.

WOMENS ANONYMOUS...

2007-08-30T16:26:00.000+10:00

After reading Indy’s post the other day, I thought "damn…there are a lot of us out there…the ones that need to ween themselves off relationships forever" so, I decided to start a new self help group…”Women’s Anonymous”. It is a simple 12-step program, like all the good ones are. Why mess with success?

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

THE 12 STEPS of W.A

1: We admitted we were powerless over women - that our lives had become unmanageable.

2: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity….either that or drinking more

3: Made a decision to turn our ‘little black book’ and our lives over to another Blogger, ensuring that they didn’t use the LBB for themselves.

4: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves and found that it was THEIR morals that required inventory!

5; Admitted to Blogdom, to ourselves and to another RL human being (preferably male) the exact nature of our undoings. Also feel free to pass out her private phone and email details.

6: Were entirely ready to have Blogdom remove all traces of her character by posting her on one of those ‘She dumped me’ or ‘Ex-girlfriend photos’ Sites

7: Humbly asked bloggers to share in our repair process by providing gratuitous sexual photos of themselves (Women Only) because this may make us feel better.

8: Made a list of all Women that had harmed us, and promised to remove them from our diaries, blog writings and birthday card lists

9: Made direct anonymous prank calls to such women wherever possible, except when to do so would injure ourselves or identify ourselves to the authorities or the woman in questions new boyfriend.

10: Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly blamed someone else, preferably HER!.

11: Sought through Blogging, dating websites and Drinking to improve our conscious contact with ‘One Night Stands’ and ‘Friends with Benefits’ opportunities, praying only for the ability to stop falling for them and being able to walk (or run) away

12: Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to oppressed men and to practice these principles in all our affairs or preferably one night contact visits.

So there…to all and sundry I now open the blogging portals of the world first W.A.

Note: If you are a woman just change the gender of the writings and call it Men’s Anonymous. Add an extra $5.00 on your application fee because I need the cash.

Address all monies to ‘thiswouldhavebeenbetterspentonVodka’

DO YOU REMEMBER...

2007-08-25T19:23:00.000+10:00

Do you remember your first misadventures into sex, those first awkward and embarrassing forays into adulthood?

I had kissed girls, passionately. Well, at least, in my teen brain the harder and more ferocious I kissed them must have meant that I was being more passionate, right?….I think those poor girls were lucky I wasn’t prone to have an early beard or I may have rubbed their faces off :)

I was introduced slowly; it now seems, to the female form and all its wonders. I was popular and always had a girlfriend and a few admirers but I was slow to realise any potential. One day after swimming at my gfs pool we were kissing in the bungalow when she suddenly took my hand and slid it over her firm young breast. She reached behind her neck as she stared into my bewildered eyes and released her top. The two most perfectly formed 36 C’s stared back at me and I knew from that day forward that my life had changed. We rubbed each other and dry humped, through our quickly drying bathing suites, but never did it dawn on me – even when she whispered “Make love to me” – that it would involve actually getting fully naked and sliding between her now soaked thighs. However, the smell of a woman has stayed with me from that day forward and has acted as a trigger for each and every venture into a sexual liaison but not way back then, laying in that bungalow dry rutting like the two oversexed teenagers ‘without a clue’ that we were. Her memory has lasted all these years. I remember a few months later a girl ‘daring’ me to ‘finger’ her, while we were at a party at my mate’s place. She did not have a good name at school – not that that meant anything as boys were prone to give ‘good’ girls a bad name ahead of ‘bad’ girls because they ironically didn’t put out. I’d heard about it, fingering, and she had obviously experienced it and clearly wanted me to continue her learning curve but being the kid from the Church Youth Groups and Scouts, I was not the guy for her. I was petrified and overwhelmed by both the proposition and the fact that I did not have a clue how to do what she wanted me to do.

Soon after this loss of face I was accepted into the Navy, at 15, and was sent off to a form of Navy Military boarding school, for 12 months. Here, I heard the bravado, the conquests and the blatant lies of other testosterone filled teenage males. If half their stories were true then there wasn’t a single female virgin, in Australia, under the age of twenty and over the age of 13!

I soon met a local girl and we hit it off pretty serious and although there was the usual kissing and caressing I still had not reached inside a girls panties, until I met yet another girl at a Youth group sponsored dance (ironically)…she wasn’t waiting for me to learn. She was taking it upon herself to teach and so began a heady few weeks of…”No, No…too hard” “Softer”…”There, there, yes that’s it” “ A little faster” “A little slower” “Mmmm”. … but that is as far as it went, it definitely wasn’t reciprocal and wasn’t leading to penetration. So my fingers were no longer virgins but another protuberance was going to have to wait.

In all these brief encounters with girls I had not done the *normal ‘guy’ thing by telling anyone…Not even my closest mates. It was something that has stayed with me my entire life. Whatever happened between a woman and myself has stayed between us. My mates may have learned that I was sleeping with someone but no details of what happened – ever.

It was not until I was 17 - Yes! I said 17 - that I lost my virginity. It was to a girl younger than I but she’d had sex before with an older guy…It always seemed to me, over the next few years, that girls lost their virginity to 21 year olds. When I turned 21, I didn’t deflower anyone and all I got was a poor excuse of a party and crappy presents. I also got married but that is another story.

That first step into full, unabated, clothes off sex was intense. That first thrust of passion is something that is almost indescribable – especially to men – the intense heat of a women is transmitted tenfold through to the male. It takes our breath away and releases something within, which will rule us. It is soul stealing and men hunger for it the rest of their lives - for that single intense pleasure. A greater weapon against men does not exist on this planet. It can and has ruined many a man’s life, as there is no other feeling that can compare.

I was smitten and soon sex engulfed me and took over every waking hour of my free time as the pursuit and conquest of the female form was never ending but always pleasurable. I have had many lovers but few have been teachers although the ones that have, have added to my pleasure and theirs. Men by their very nature are aggressive and this must be trained out of their love making although aggression can be a very useful form of pleasure when used correctly and at the right time.

Aaahhh, sex! My nemesis, my folly, my saviour!

* I really think this is a preconceived and female sponsored dispersion upon the male form. To my knowledge and it may only be my circle of friends over the years. None of them have discussed their sexual activities between them and their partner. One-night stands with persons that are not in our circle of friends is another matter…and might I add the persons that usually speak of such conquests are either lying or female. Yes! Women speak of sexual partners far more than men.

DOCKED...

2007-08-24T12:42:00.000+10:00

I am sitting beside the docks*, at a port, far from my home and it struck me how important the sea trade is. I should have known this from my time in the Navy but it didn’t really hit home until just now. I am typing on my laptop, which was probably shipped in a container along with so many other goods from a far off country.

I work in International bulk logistics and part of my job is to come to the wharf each month and liaise with the Captains, Port Authority, Customs Agents, Stevedores and a host of other people that go into keeping international trade afloat.

…But the seafaring, goods, trade is even more important than that. It provides jobs for thousands of Asian men, usually Filipino (yes, I do realise that there are other races and nationalities but in the main and in my experience this fits). They serve long and arduous hours criss-crossing the planet, working for a reduced wage, barely seeing their loved ones. They send their money home to feed, clothe and house their families but rarely get the happiness of even a simple hug from their children. They do this for many reasons…their labour is cheap, their workforce is plentiful and we in the west are voracious in our appetites for consumer goods.

I talk to these men, from different countries, and find that we are all the same. Yes, we may speak different languages, respect different faiths and have vastly different cultures but in general we are men working to support our families and ourselves. They don’t care that the containers they bring are full of the latest Xbox 360 consoles or new batteries for my laptop…they just care about the security of themselves and their families.

I really enjoy my time with these men as we share experiences and laugh at each other as we try and communicate but what I really respect is their sacrifice. I don’t think that I could leave my family for, sometimes, years but then again I do not wear their shoes and my security is better guaranteed by the happenstance of the cosmos that had me born an Australian.

*Obviously, I wrote this last week while I was away:)

ANTICIPATION...

2007-08-22T06:35:00.001+10:00

Anticipation, to me, is the most exhilarating experience of lovemaking. It is the not knowing what is going to happen next but at the same time knowing exactly what is going to happen. During foreplay, anticipation is the greatest technique in a lovers arsenal...not their anticipation but their use of techniques to heighten the awareness of their partner and therefore their partner’s anticipation. What is the difference between a good lover and a great lover? It is their mastery of bringing you, seemingly, to the brink without tripping you over the edge, although they may choose to take you over, again and again, only to bring you back. Anticipation is what makes you clench your muscles, grip the sheets with your toes, arch your back, close your eyes and beg for more as you wait for the next caress of their fingers, the next touch of their tongue, the next gossamer contact of their lips as they gently meet with yours. It is not all fingers and wet tongues working rapidly towards climax, it is planned and methodical – in that the master knows what you like and takes you there as much in your mind, before it happens, as he/she does when it actually occurs. You know the feelings so your mind anticipates the sensations. The not knowing what they will do next is the part that sends shivers rippling down your spine and makes you shudder with excitement.

You know the feeling, as you lay naked before them and their lightest touch makes you sigh, you make that little groan in the back of your throat as you proffer your body, arch your neck and want them then and now….but they make you wait, they make you anticipate their next move. Will they gently kiss me? Will they slide their body against mine so I can feel the warmth of their skin? Will they skim their tongue along my thigh, engulf me, lick me, touch me and bring me to the penultimate climax before taking me in love? They know and understand your lovemaking and although you can change the position, the timing, the rhythm…it will be for naught unless they have set the stage. That stage when our bodies have every nerve ending on fire, tiny beads of sweat dance upon our skin, our breathing is rapid and shallow, the pheromones run rampant through our brains and we care not for anything but that first thrust. That deep, prolonged, pussy hugging, cock straining first thrust. We want that thrust, we need that pain and that intense body heat…we need that anticipation to end and signal the next animal intense passion of our lovemaking. The stage has been set and now we can release all of our feelings, our fears, our stresses of the day. They all disappear as we anticipate no more and lose ourselves in each other.

AWAY AGAIN...

2007-08-18T06:59:00.000+10:00

I'm off to the port, again, today and won't be back until probably Wednesday. I may have Internet connection but I will have to wait and see if the serviced apartments we are staying at have a connection. Now don't just up and leave me because I don't write anything for a few days lol...Have a good weekend and I'll see you all next week :)

LOVE HURTS....

2007-08-16T11:21:00.000+10:00

Why does love hurt and hate doesn't?
When your feelings are denied and she turns you away, a little piece of you goes with her. You feel pain. Physical Pain. You can't sleep, you can't eat and you can't think straight. Doctors fill you with tablets, psych's fill your head with words, friends fill your life with comfort but nothing will fill the void.
If someone you love dies then you can grieve and hopefully move on. If someone's love dies then you can't complete the grieving because the 'someone' is still there.
"It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all" was supposedly written by Saint Augustine - what would he know - he's a bloody saint. The saying is a crock. It only works if the 'lost' means they died as in Tennyson's 'In Memorium AHH'.
Socrates sums it up best for us Scorpios 'The Hottest Love has the Coldest End'
Love hurts - forever!

Note: Originally posted 11 August 2005

ALL ABOUT ME....

2007-08-15T16:17:00.000+10:00

OK..I don't know how this started but it has, so we have to deal with it. I need your help! I have been ordered to send all my readers over to Miss Uber's site as you all have to rescue me from the bottom of her Poll...that's POLL not POLE :)

It obviously started as a bit of fun but has turned into a blogmatch among a bunch of egomaniacs...me included. So if you don't want me to come last in the inaugural Uber, Sexiest Man Blogger Poll - then I need your help. Yes! there is a photo of me plastered on her site...how do I get into these messes?

Go on..you know you want to...please...oh for Chr*st sake it will only take a few seconds.

Are you back? See...it didn't take long at all did it? Thankyou....we will now return to normal scheduled broadcasting :)

WATER COOLER...

2007-08-13T22:23:00.001+10:00

Have you ever noted a surge in blogging? If you have been around a while you will probably have those days, weeks or even months where you seem to always be blogging. You will have ideas and stories floating around your brain dying to jump out and land on your screen. You will freely comment on all topics and all blogs that you browse thru but the one certain factor in all of your blogging surges will be what i like to call the 'Water Cooler Blog'. In my opinion, there always seems to be THAT blog, the blog that is always commented on, the one with the greatest wit, the best writing and the funniest or most thought provoking ideas and comments. The bloggee, behind the blog, will be a commenter on a whole series of blogs, they will have great responses and quick retorts. They will be the centre of the blogging world as you know it. they always have a new post for you to read, they always have the best crowd gathered in their comment section and they are always open - 24/7. The problem, as I see it, is that we all seem to congregate around a series of bloggers - the water cooler bloggers...but...when the water dries up we feel lost and stumble around looking for the next cooler. My water cooler blogs have come and gone and my blogging has ebbed and flowed with their rise and fall. Kiss'n Blog was a great cooler...you could cruise in and be mentally and sexually stimulated all while meeting cool new bloggers, Wombat had a series of female co writers that kept us all in the loop and entertained us regularly. Eileen (a former co-host of Kiss'n Blog) is another cooler. She started a flock of bloggers that have branched out and become successful on their own. There have been only a few that have had the drawing power, the humour and the writing technique to act as a cooler....but they are like jetsom floating in the blog sea...bloggers congregate around their words until they are strong enough to fend for themselves. I may be off the mark here but I have always felt that these coolers, and I have only mentioned two, are an important part of the blogging world. Sure, we all started our blogs for different reasons but the interaction between blogger, commenter and even the lurkers ensure that we grow and have something to hang on to each and every day. I raise my glass to all the water cooler blogs out there and I hope you never fade away altogether. BTW...Wombat is back at K&B...you should check out his cooler.
Honourable mentions:
My hidden blog goddess, my bella, Mel :)
My insane daily dose of blondness, Steph from Much Ado, and
My Man about Asia, the irrepressible Dr Indiana Jones

LOST BOYS...

2007-08-11T07:07:00.000+10:00

I was tracked down, the other day, by one of my best mates from my time in the Navy (yes...before I was swapped to the Airforce). I hadn't heard from him in years and had lost track of him after he left the service and joined the Police force...but...out of the blue he contacted me by email. I was shocked and wondered how the hell he had tracked me down. It turned out that he traced me thru another guy who knew another guy who knew another guy and THAT guy had my email address from an old school site. Luckily, I had kept the old email alive, mainly because it came with my Internet provider... I tend to use gmail for everything except work.
Anyhow...he contacted me with a few lines berating me and generally slagging off my parentage and lack of moral fortitude...I smiled as I read it and immediately felt that comradeship from long lost campaigns and trips away. It really hit me, at that moment, how much I missed IT. IT being the services and the guys I lived, worked and played with. It was all I knew from the age of 15. We were family! We grew up together, like neighbourhood kids would or close school friends, but in our case we were thrown together in the military...training hard, playing hard, sometimes even fighting hard but we were always there for each other. They were the happiest days of my life. No tall poppies (showoffs, braggards, boss's pet etc) survived in that environment. You were soon dragged back down to reality by the constant barrage of good natured slagging. We used sarcasm and comment to show how much we liked each other. The crueler the lambasting the more you knew they cared :). Its an Aussie guy thing. The more they gobbed off about your parents lack of a marriage license or the fact that your sisters second head was actually a good thing the more you smiled and felt closer to them. We helped each other thru every part of our lives. We studied together, we trained physically together, we drank and got drunk together, we tolerated each others gfs and berated those of us that got married, usually, at the age of about twenty - then drank ourselves silly when we subsequently got divorced a few years later. We had the highest divorce rates in the country and, unfortunately, much of the services still do. We didn't seem to assimilate to civilians very well as we were all 'lost boys'. We'd had no parents, from a young age, and had formed a bond that protected us. We weren't bad people - we were just different. I suppose it was because deep down we knew that we could be called on at anytime to defend the long haired youths that picked fights with us. We knew that we trained for war but we NEVER ever spoke about it. We just treated it as a very special job - something the civvies could not hope to understand. We trained with weapons, we trained to exhaustion, we worked long hours - sometimes for weeks on end but we, generally, loved it. Even though we bitched about the conditions, hours and rules - we all knew that we wouldn't be anywhere else. We could get away with slagging each other but woe betide the civilian youth that tried the same thing. We were a team and they were a rabble...they never gobbed off at us twice.
Anywho, again..I got the email and it is for a huge reunion and it happens in eight weeks!!! It has been planned for a year but I was one of the last people to be tracked down. I have already sent in my 'I'll be there with bells on' email to the organising committee, I have sent my cheque and put in a leave form at work. I will NOT miss this four day bash for anything. I have dug up the old photo albums - the ones showing us in a better light wearing our uniforms, carrying big guns, standing beside weapons and various military aircraft. Then there are the photos from all the foreign countries we visited showing us in different bars, drinking different beers, with different foreign girls. There does not seem to be any showing the foreign landmarks or attractions :)
So in early October, I will pack my best gear into my newly washed and polished SUV and drive the six hours to the hotel beside the beach and settle back, with a beer or two, and wait for the memories to turn into real people. We will sit around a reminisce about our past glories, we will lie and embellish the truth about our time apart and our present, we will laugh until we cry as we all try and talk over each other and out do the stories of our mates...but deep down we will just be happy to be together again. We will forget the responsibilities of our present and live in our past for four glorious days. We will once again be the Lost Boys living in our Neverland past!

CELIBATE NO MORE....

2007-08-05T10:25:00.000+10:00

Ok...So I am no longer celibate. It wasn't actually planned but rather the result of a great night out, great food, good company, great conversation and a chemical and physical attraction that resulted in Scorpy losing his celibacy!
Now when I sleep all I dream of is maroon and cream sheets swirling around tanned calves and creamy thighs, flowing brunette locks, tapered fingers, sculpted lips and lace panties...because that is the site that greeted me as I slipped from the bedroom early the next morning and made my world renowned omelette and a huge pot of coffee. She was lovely, as I woke her but I had mixed emotions as I knew, as did she, that this would probably never happen again but we lived in the moment as we ate and talked. No guilt, no remorse, no expectations. It was sex for sex's sake but it had been more as we had made love...without the love (if you know what I mean)...it was soft and mutual, intense and passionate! I won't go into the reason that it won't happen again other than to say NO...She isn't married or engaged or with anyone else. She is in the same situation as me and we would, at this time, rather share our time with our kids. Neither of us is interested in anything further... just yet. We know this as we have talked about it in the past.

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

Now more importantly here is the omelette recipe:
Buy an omelette pan...most important.
Two eggs,
Tblspn of water (NO MILK)
Salt
Pepper
Combine the above and whisk.
Tomato,
Shallot, (spring onion)
Mushrooms,
Ham (or you can leave this out)
Dice and slice the above and place to one side.
Spray grease the pan and place on high heat.
Add the egg mixture and let the heat and pan do the work. Slowly it will cook and all you have to do is softly push it from the sides and slosh the uncooked egg toward the edges. maintain the shape of the pan...we aren't making scrambled eggs here! After about a minute add the ingredients and continue pushing from the edges. As the omelette takes shape and becomes firm fold one side over the other. Cook for a further 30 seconds and then if your good, turn the whole thing over and cook for another 30 seconds. Turn out onto a plate and serve with finely chopped parsley and a kiss good morning :)

The Accidental Tourer…

2007-08-03T05:36:00.000+10:00

Sorry, this is a litle long but it just flowed out this morning.....

The summer that year, in Melbourne, was very hot. It was a relatively short posting of just 12 months but I began to love the city, its attractions, its people, its sports and all the other idiosyncrasies that go into making a metropolis.
I took to riding everywhere, as I had done in Adelaide, and I had even sold my car. I loved to ride. I rode for a number of reasons the first of which was to keep fit, the second was the ease in which I could get around and the third was pure bravado and ego. I liked the stares and the car horns; I liked the whistles and the cheers from the girl’s grammar school bus, as it chugged past each morning leaving me in a cloud of diesel fumes. It wasn’t far from my place in Yarraville to the corner of Dudley and Spencer streets, West Melbourne.

I liked to flash past the morning traffic in my gay (as in colour) apparel. I had all the go fast gear: Giro helmet, Chest constricting jersey with the zip pulled down, bum and thigh hugging Nix, clip in shoes and shaved legs. Although, when I first started riding I wore only black complete with a black helmet and black bike. That had rather dire consequences (much like this story really) and may I have to write about it at a later date.

I looked the part therefore I was. I’d sail thru the suburban traffic congestion and then into the city gridlock snapping in and out of lanes, dodging tow balls and bumper bars. I could balance, with my feet still in the stirrups, whilst waiting at the lights and then do a pre-emptive take off as I evaded the nudge from the pursuing teenager and his rampant V8. I was king of the road and loved it.

It was surreal to watch the people trapped in their cars, banging on steering wheels and flicking the ‘Bird’, to people that had cut them off (including me). They were trapped but I just bounced up onto the footpath or snuck between doorhandles to safely pass the logjams. As I approached the city the landscape changed, buildings got taller, traffic more congested, shadows lengthened, the wind funnelled between buildings and the footpath became crowded. Suited men alongside women wearing running shoes below elegant jacket and pant combinations strutted past each other oblivious to all that surrounded them. The only people that communicated were my fellow bike riders. We’d nod to each other and pass comment while waiting for signals to change. After a few weeks I got to recognise many of my fellow peddlers and at times was worried when I did not see them only to be reassured when I spotted them during the afternoon race home.

I even rode to cricket on the weekends and that is when it happened…the accident that almost killed me.

I had a minor injury and could not play cricket, this particularly hot Sunday, but I promised the boys and girls that I would drop by the ground and watch the days play. I thought I might have a few beers in the shade and thank my stars that I was injured and did not have to play in the blistering heat. I can’t recall what the injury was but it must have been minor because I could still ride.

So there I was, watching Steve and Dave, our opening batsmen ‘slog sixes’ (read Home runs for my American friends) left, right and centre. We were running riot and went on to post a very high score after our fifty overs. I had sat in the shade talking to the wives and other players who had either batted or were waiting their turn to bat. I turned down lunch because it interfered with my drinking but thought better of it and switched to water as I had to ride home later on and needed to rehydrate.

We won the game and the boys from Essendon were pissed that an Air Force team had whipped their butts but we didn’t care. The team went on to win the Footscray district cricket title that year and I still have the medallion in my trophy collection.

I left the ground mid afternoon and said my goodbyes. The temperature had dropped from the low 40’s (Celsius) to the mid 30’s so it was still hot. The asphalt bubbled and the heat waves shimmered before me as I cut through the insipid air on my trusty light metal steed. You could pick it up with one finger – flash hey!. I progressed thru the lesser streets before hitting my straps for the long haul down Ballarat Street, Yarraville. The traffic was light being a Sunday afternoon and that probably saved my life……
I remember the sound of the truck and its staccato braking system as it applied its engine brake, somewhere behind me. I remember looking down at my cycle computer and its digital numbers flashed 42 kph. I remember lifting my head and seeing the lights turn green and knew that I did not have to slow down. The slowing truck was almost beside me in the centre lane and its shadow blocked out the burning of the sun. “Why is the truck slowing when the lights are green” I thought to myself to late. The truck swung across the road before me all 18 wheels looked like rolling death. I was fucked. If I slammed on my brakes at this speed and being this close I would tumble end over end, with the bike, and still hit the truck as my feet were clipped and strapped onto my pedals (Something I never do anymore as I always leave at least one foot free of the straps). I was fucked!!! I just laid it down. Bike and rider went instantly horizontal and I crashed knee and shoulder first onto the bitumen. It ripped my jersey open and stripped my Nix, it peeled layers of skin from both. Then my helmeted head smashed into the road surface and lights flashed and sound ceased as the concussion was instantaneous. Bike and rider started to spin on the pedal mount and finally one of my legs came free and I tried in vain to use it as an anchor. The truck and those monstrous wheels churned closer and closer as the rig turned the corner and slowed to navigate its length around the 90-degree turn. One of my wheels hit a dual set of the truck tyres and started spinning me in the opposite direction even faster than before but then I was through. I was shot out the other side, away from the truck but into the other lane. The truck continued, oblivious, as it changed gears and the engine braking ceased. It blew diesel smoke from its stack as it accelerated up the side street. I continued to slide across the vacant Sunday afternoon road and crashed to a stop outside a chemist shop. I lay there before and older gent, the chemist I think, came running over. I remember standing up and trying to push my bike but the wheels and pedal shaft were bent beyond repair. Spokes stuck out at weird angles I noticed one of my shoes still clipped into a pedal. Luckily my foot was still attached to me. My flash, black, Giro racing helmet had actually cracked in half but it had saved me from a sever head injury. It now lay draped around my neck, one half on each side, by the chin strap (I later learned that the netting actually cocoons the shell which helps absorb the shock otherwise the foam of the helmet would just explode upon impact – the netting is all important in helmets). I was a mess and apparently in total shock. The rest of this is told from witnesses the next day. I pushed off everyone’s help and attempted to mount the damaged bike and subsequently kept falling to the ground. I gave this up after a while and just started walking home dragging the bike beside me, blood pouring out of huge gashes and grazes down my side, clothing tattered and torn still adhering to my skin as some of the Lycra had burnt onto me during the slide. I eventually got home with a band of local children following me in some sort of stupor as they looked at this bleeding man and is mangled machine. The girl I shared a house with (No romance at all – just really good mates) opened the door and in her words nearly threw up at the sight of me. She said she didn’t even know it was me, at first. She shooed away the little people audience and led me inside and lay me down on the lounge room floor. The bike stayed in a mangled heap on the front landing.
She tended to my wounds with wash clothes and care but never once did she consider calling an ambulance as we were both in the Defence force and it was sort of shunned to use the civilian service when we had our own. Unfortunately, it was a Sunday and ‘our own’ did not do house calls - I would have to wait until the next day.
She mended me as best she could before peeling and cutting the rest of my clothes from me. She somehow got me to the cool of the bathroom and I was submitted to further ministrations of cooling water and soothing ointments. She had cleaned out much of the gravel and the built up dirt from the Yarraville Streets. She made me swallow some painkillers and then laid me on my bed. I don’t remember anything of this. I only remember waking up and feeling like I had been hit by a truck (well almost). I thought of my bike and asked ‘S’ what had happened to it. She shook her head and looked toward the floor…I knew the racer had died that night and I sadly mourned the yellow flash. The pain was unbearable and scabs had tried to form over the still weeping flesh wounds. A spider web of scars covered nearly all of my left side except for my face but my head felt as if it were in a vice. I had hit the road very hard. Each time I tried to move any part of my left side a scab would break open and pain would slice through my body. ‘S’ dressed my in a loose singlet and Board shorts. I slipped on some thongs and swallowed a handful of painkillers. I couldn’t get into S’s car as it was too low to the ground so she hailed the Bus that went past my office and manoeuvred me aboard. I was a walking advertisement for derelicts – everyone stayed well clear. From work I organised a lift to St Kilda road (the defence force offices are located there). I staggered my way thru corridors and found myself in the waiting line to the Sick Bay with the uniformed crowd of weekend sports people. I stood out like a sore thumb or more appropriately like the out of uniform bruised and battered bike rider that I was. I was spotted thru the Monday morning rush by the senior nurse and without so much as a “OMG are you alright, come sit down” she started to berate me for not wearing a uniform. Excuse me it would stick to my flailed bleeding skin. She then went off at me for not alerting them earlier. Aah, excuse me again but you are CLOSED on weekends. So bruised, battered, beaten and berated I was led to the head of the line and straight thru to the Masochists school for ‘skin ripping’ and ‘scab tearing’. A team of white clad flesh eaters proceeded to poke, prod and probe before wiping, smearing and wrapping my stiffening body into a mummy like state. “Don’t worry mate… there is a ‘special’ kind of underlay in this bandage that ensures it will not adhere to skin”. Yeah right…Elephant skin maybe. They gave me gallons of some red liquid to soak my stiffening scabs and mounds of the elephant bandages before casting me aside and tending to some poor girl that had a fucking Splinter in her thumb. “Come back next week for an assessment”.
“Fuck off, I’d rather be run over by a truck!!!!”

PEDERRORISTS...

2007-07-29T20:43:00.000+10:00

They are one of the banes of my driving existence along with tailgaters, old men wearing hats and teenagers in small outdated cars with new paint, huge exhaust systems and Doof-Doof machines that play non stop (c)Rap . They cause an unstoppable, rageaholic episode every time they step from the kerb. They are the terrorist pedestrian or as I like to call them 'Pederrosists'.
Now, I drive an SUV which probably weighs just under 2 tonnes and it takes me a whole heap of tarmac to go from normal cruising speed to a dead stop. Dead Stop, in my case, would be when I HIT them with said SUV at the crosswalk! Don't these morons know that they DO NOT have right of way? They must first LOOK in BOTH directions and IF deemed safe THEN cross...but Oh no...these morons walk casually down the sidewalk and then suddenly change direction 90 degrees into the oncoming traffic. Cars concertina as they all apply emergency breaks, deploy parachutes and throw out the spare anchor...hoping that they will stop before the MORON is crushed bleeding and broken below their front wheels..... and then to top it off the Moron will glare at you for not pulling up sooner.
The thing that Governments and Police forces should understand before they blame the driver that squishes a Pederrorist is that the reason they are walking is because they don't have a license in the first place and therefore don't understand that the modern motor vehicle cannot stop in the space of 3.5 inches.
I really hate the pederrorists that walk out into the open carpark at the local shopping mall. They walk straight thru the automatic doors and launch themselves onto the crosswalk. It should be legal to run them and their groceries over. This idiot yesterday looked directly at me as I approached and STILL stepped in front of me! He started to abuse me until I opened the car door and rained abuse back upon his sorry arse. He quailed before my torrent and offered up this little gem...."B.B.But I'm a pedestrian and that is a pedestrian crossing" whereupon I enlightened him "Yes....But it is a crossing going OVER a road. It is YOUR responsibility to only cross when it is SAFE!!"
It really should be legal to run them over so they can stop breeding and stealing oxygen!

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE...

2007-07-24T21:00:00.000+10:00

The perfect love. The kind of love that you get when you look into the eyes of your child and you see it returned or when you watch them sleeping or you are standing in a crowd of parents and watch them score the winning goal. You feel so proud, your chest heaves, your breath slows, your eyes suddenly become moist and you smile. You can't help it. You love them and you want to hug them forever and never let them go. They don't ask any favours, or for you to change they just want you there, near them. They are you and you are they. The perfect living palindrome. It is the same whether you look at it from the child or the parent.

I love my kids with all my heart and sole and I'll tell them hundred times this weekend just to watch them smile.

TIMING...

2007-07-21T11:41:00.000+10:00

I sold my last house almost two years ago, to the day. I had lived in it for 12 months and made $25,000. It went on the market today for 100% more than I sold it for!!!! In just 24 months it has increased 100 bloody percent!!! Great timing on my part......AAaaarrrgggghhhhh!!!

Thanks I feel better now :(

Edit: 22/07/2007 in the p:m - Discussion with the DL after dropping the LLs back at their place
DL: "Do you know your old house is on the market for double the value YOU sold it for"?
Me: "Is it"? feigning complete ignorance
Little LL: "Yeah it is Daddy, remember you saw it on the Internet and..."
Me: "Yeah, Princess...thanks...this is a talk between Mum and Dad...go put your bags away.." as the DL smiles wickedly and little LL runs off "Yeah I knew but it's in the past" I said
DL: "If you had kept it you would have a couple of hundred thousand now to do with what ever you wanted..."
Me: Interjecting "Ummmm...did you forget we are divorced"? and quickly followed up with "Did you also forget that your house is now worth 600 plus" she started to say something but I rode over the top "Did you also forget that you only owed 30 grand on the mortgage before you and D (new beau) decided to do mass renovations?"
DL: "Yeah well...I just thought you should know and now you do..."
Me: "Thanks...but if I dwell on what could have been then I would still be on the messed up ride after we broke up. Its gone and I can't look back" she looked a bit stumped but didn't interject "I'm looking for a new house and actually thought of putting in a bid on my old place"
DL: Almost chocking "What"?
Me: "Only joking" I said smiling as I got back in the car a drove off :)

MIDDLE of the ROAD...

2007-07-20T09:33:00.000+10:00

For those of you that don't know....I have been married twice...Yes the scourge of modern day life..Divorced.

I was first married when I was twenty, and in the Navy, It didn't last long (two years) and I know exactly why she left...hell, I even put her on the plane and waved good bye. I was a bit of a Casanova and liked playing sport, going out with my mates, volunteering for trips away, working my second job as a barman and shagging anything with a pulse. I drank too much and paid scant attention to my wife although to be fair she was not much better. We were too young, too much alike and married for all the wrong reasons. I was transferred to the Air Force, near the end of our marriage and the sudden loss of all of her friends tipped the scales. We went our separate ways.
A long period ensued where I kept up my Casanova ways and jet setting lifestyle. I never had, or sought, a relationship that lasted longer a few weeks and I was alright with my life. I enjoyed my work and enjoyed my sport and I played hard , on and off the field. That was until I met L...she was and is the one true love of my life. Most of the posts, that I write about lust, love and my memories revolve around her. She was everything that I ever wanted and needed...beautiful beyond belief - rooms stopped when she entered - Intelligent,warm, loving, attentive, happy, strong. She had many friends, was not in the least bit pretentious and shared herself fully with everyone. I was still ME though and although I changed dramatically after we met and started living together, I was still stuffing up my life. it was like I was always trying to prove myself, especially to women. I still flirted and still slept with other women. I had an affair with another woman that lasted for almost a year, while L was studying interstate. She found out but took me back - I settled down for a while but the demon came back and I stuffed it up forever. In the last seven months of our relationship I saw her for 17 days total as I traveled to Hawaii, Malaysia and New Zealand with work. I lost the best relationship that I ever had and it wrecked me. I was sick, my work suffered, I drank too much (more than usual in those days) and it lasted for about a year until the Air Force posted me interstate, ironically to the place L had been studying at. I had more relationships in the next twelve months than I can count or remember...I worked in an office building with 98 females - 54 were single (I did my homework). I was still unhappy and my life was slowly going down the toilet. I gave up all sport other than Golf, my 'resource' pool of willing females was drying up as they became wise to the 'player' in office G1. I was in trouble at work for coming in late, leaving early and generally not giving a damn. I was posted again...not because of my behavior...because I had been promoted.
I wanted to start afresh and here was my chance. I started playing sport again, I gave up drinking (for seven years), I sold my car and bought a racing bike - I rode everyday. My work ethic increased and my life changed. It seemed to me that : Life - Alcohol = less women but a better me. I needed to find the 'middle road' with my relationships and my lifestyle. My relationships were not going to survive my partying attitude, my 'mates' or my constant dalliance with other women.
I met my wife to be and we started out as party animals - I reverted to type...she was and still is the center of attention at every event and needs to be surrounded by people. I on the other hand decided that I wanted out relationship to work so I concentrated on establishing our home, our farm and my new job. I left the only thing that enabled my lifestyle - the Defence force. It had been my home since I was 15 years old and it was a major step. We had our children and I opted to spend my nights and weekends raising them rather than establishing friendships. this allowed my wife to study and further her career - unfortunately it was in the hospitality industry and meant she worked nights and weekends. Our farm was a long way out of town so no casual visitors dropped in...it was me and the LLs on our lonesome much of the time but I was happy with my lot. I had changed...I hardly ever drank, I played the occasional round of golf, I renovated our home and established a working cattle property, I devoted myself to being a 'Mr Mum' whenever i wasn't at work. I had turned full circle but this time my wife wanted the old me and I wasn't going to revert back again. I liked the new lifestyle. I had had my fun and now it was time to devote myself to my LLs. So the relationship ended for completely opposite reasons to the first marriage:
Marriage 1 = Boisterous, gregarious, playboy,
Marriage 2 = Devoted, almost pious family man,
I think I have finally become the guy I was supposed to become and I am happy with who I am. I was never a saint and never led anyone to believe I was. I ran through my twenties at full velocity. I did what I wanted, when I wanted. I surfed, ran, played, drank, explored, fought, protected, served, lusted and loved. I did things that people twice my age would never achieve in a life time of life times but I was always on one side of the road or the other...there was no middle of the road. I think I now understand the balance, my excesses and deficiencies but also my strengths and my potential and I can live in the middle of that road called life.
I will end my self imposed celibacy - one day. I will meet someone and settle down again (this time for real). I will share, learn and adapt. I will love and be happy...but not just yet. I am still enjoying my freedom with my LLs as I watch them grow and learn. Being a better parent, I feel, is the catalyst that has shown me who I am to be.
As usual, I write this not for sympathies, Oohs, hugs, Pats on the back or comments of derision. I write this for me and one day my LLs. This is my journal and I often cleanse my thoughts by dropping them off here. Have a great weekend everyone...I know I will :)

FIRST GLANCE...

2007-07-19T07:04:00.000+10:00

I wrote this a long time ago and as I am so busy this week and it is a bit of an anniversary for a lost love I thought it time to bring it out again...

She was the one...I knew it the instant I glimpsed her through the crowd. I had to see her again. I needed to look into those brown eyes. I needed to hold her and talk to her. She had stopped my heart for an instant as her image burned forever into my memory. There are certain types of people we are externally attracted to…I don’t know exactly what it is that triggers me but she definitely had whatever it was and the correct buttons were pushed. I went out of my way to follow her. She had me under a spell and didn’t even know it. I did finally find her but eventually lost her many years later (another story although I have talked about her in these posts). However, to this day I keep looking and searching, trying to recapture that image of her that I had instantly stored away forever…for that is the image of the first time I saw her. I see her in my dreams or whenever I walk through a crowd…I scan for that image… ‘Was that her?’… ‘It looked like her’. The same smile. The same way her hair fell around her face and shoulders. The same confidence and poise. The same reaction she got from men as she walked past and they followed with their eyes. She was more than a vision though. She was more than a dream or fantasy. She was loving, kind, funny, smart and above all, my friend. I loved her the first time I saw her and I love her still today. I’m sorry :(

BIRTH, DEATH and MARRIAGE...

2007-07-12T19:09:00.000+10:00

I started this blog back in 2005 and in that time I have made a lot of on-line friends but I have also lost a few, as they have drifted in and out of the blogoshpere or suffered the scourge of blogdom, being found out by love ones, family or friends that take everything in the wrong context.
I have seen some great bloggers just stop mid sentence and dissapear, never to be heard from again. Some have written long monologues to their scribblings and then drifted back into a normal life, leaving their blog online and alone for people to stumble upon, every now and then. Some have just closed up shop with no explanation or goodbye - leaving us pondering what has happened to them. We check in on these unused blogs in the vain hope that the person behind them may come back but they rarely do. Some have run off because of stalkers, vicious cyber attacks or being 'found' and then retreated behind the safety of the 'password' protected blog or changed their handle and address to escape the malicious few. Some great bloggers have had to run and hide and the verse is a poorer place for it.
I have been reading a certain blog for a few years but just recently the owner passed away. I knew she was dying but it still came as a shock and I sometimes find myself returning to the words she wrote and wondering what happened to her one true love - her son.
I have felt the hurt from bloggers that have traveled the planet to meet their true love only to be rejected and in most cases I have lost touch with one or the other blogger...just like in real life, when a relationship breaks down, we seem compelled to take sides, unfortunately.
On the flip side, I have seen love blossom between two great friends, whom I have never met yet I have known for two years. They will marry in October. They were part of a small crew that helped me through my dark days of depression and divorce and hopefully they have seen me grow into a happier person and a better Dad. Thankyou and I hope your life together is everything that you both hope for and deserve :)
I have been present at the birth of babies, unseen, and read of their first steps and the mumbling of their first word.
I have endured, real world, broken relationships as bloggers have dissected themselves, with their hearts torn asunder they have spilled their inner most feelings of hurt and pain to purge themselves of the guilt, regret, anger and remorse. I have also seen them rise, phoenix like, from the ashes of those shattered dreams.
I have stepped into the shoes of people from all walks of life and I have enjoyed every moment.
I have just cracked 300 posts and it slipped by me, almost unnoticed, but I suppose it is some type of milestone in this on-line world where so many people fall by the wayside.
To my on line 'girlfriends' and mates...I owe you more than you can ever imagine. To my special crew Mel, Ally, Marika and Indy...thanks for being there in the beginning and still being here now.

I HATE MONDAYS....

2007-07-09T12:20:00.000+10:00

Well…I’m back at work today, after a week and bit on holidays with the LLs…and it sucks big time!
I have been at work for two hours and just found out that my Boss has the day off, although he has sent me three emails, from home, about various crap that I am not the least bit interested in. I checked my emails and found that I had the normal three thousand useless emails, some from within work and a lot from junk emailers that still get thru our firewalls. After responding to a few of the emails – most of them were jokes and youtubes – I set about my daily tasks…but…I hit the return from holiday wall and couldn’t remember a thing I was supposed to be doing. Smoko (morning tea) rolled around and one of the staff was having a birthday so we all got free cake. So highlights thus far:

Moved the little slidy thing, on my wall calendar, to show the new work day,
Moved the 30 boxes of tissues, that someone had placed on my desk as some lame joke
Moved all of the paperwork from my desk to the ‘round file’ beside my desk,
Forgot computer password and had to get the techs to get me in,
Checked the gazillion emails – deleted most but read the funny ones
Read the featured articles page on Wikipedia
Reviewed the Internet weather radar for the district
Recharged my phone
Updated my personal calendar with the LLs school holidays
Ate free cake – Mmmm mango cream,
A new girl started work today but she is married
A new guy started work today but he and his wife are friends of my Exs,
Reviewed football scores from the weekend,
Reviewed my Fantasy Football team results and then realised that we still have Monday Night Football to go,
Discussed the demise of the Myth Busters from Monday night programming and the reinstatement of Top Gear,
Had ‘coffee’ with the boys and discussed ‘Stuff’ – none of which had anything to do with work,
Checked my blog,
Checked a few other blogs,
Started writing a story about my past and then ditched it,
Realised that I hated my job and that I actually do nothing – but at least I get paid for it.

The time is now 10:18 am, Monday 9th July

As my Boss is away, I've just told everyone that I have a meeting in town, about Road Planning with an Engineering firm. They all just nodded, as they appreciate that I'm required to meet with such people – actually, they know that I have no intention of meeting anyone and that some time after lunch I will 'disappear' and return tomorrow morning. I am taking the afternoon off and they are very jealous, as they can't prove that I am not going to be where I say I’m going to be...of course my phone will be switched off as its just plain rude to leave it on during meetings - even fictitious ones lol. They hate my boss (also their boss) so they would never even think of talking to him. Have a great day everyone – I’m going home to sleep on the couch. Ciao

MOVIE DAY...

2007-07-06T11:06:00.000+10:00

Yesterday, I was in a quandary...If I had boys it would have been a no brainer "Transformers!" (Mmmm Megan Fox ~drool~) but alas the LLs are NOT boys and when it comes to movies a little bit of thought goes into it..."Does it have princesses? Is it animated? Has it got a girl in it? Does it have pirates or comic book heroes?" "Well Yes.." I said "...Transformers were in comics and cartoons and they had action figures ...and stuff" but from the look on their faces I knew my argument was sinking fast. So what was on the list for today?
Fantastic Four - Rise of the Silver Surfer (Mmmm Jessica Alba ~drool~)
Pirates of the Caribbean III (Mmmm Keira Knightley ~drool~)
Shrek the Third
Oceans Thirteen
Blades of Glory, and
Bridge to Terabithia.

The LLs chose, much to my dismay, Bridge to Terabithia, I payed my well earned for three tickets and over priced Popcorn, Drinks and Lollies (candy). If I am going to sit through a kids movie at least I can have sustenance. Well at least the girls were in a good mood and I did have some flashes of Narnia and the special effects from Lord of the rings etc. The trailer showed monsters, Knights and a realm of make believe. It might have something, I thought. We found our seats in a fairly vacant cinema. Me in the middle and an LL on each side, as always :)
Twenty minutes of Movie Trailers and ads for other junk glossed over me as I sipped my drink and scoffed down handfuls of Popcorn, wishing that they would turn down the bloody air - as it was freezing. The girls were getting restless, as was I. Then it started...
It seemed to be over in a flash. A teenage boy from a poor household, sibling sisters, overworked Mum and Dad, daydreams, bullies, a teacher crush, art and imagination. In walked the new girl, Leslie. This kid (AnnaSophie Robb) lit up the screen, lit up the story and took us all beyond our daily lives into a realm of make believe. This girl is of equal talent to Dakota Fanning - she truley lit up the screen with her performance. She was brilliant and the story has more morals than all of Aesops fables. I have never read or even heard of the book and was a reluctant Dad dragged into Terabithia but left with that special feeling in my heart that only this type of movie can bring. I cried and I laughed - I cried a lot. I hugged my daughters and held their hands. It was magic and I recommend it to all parents as one of the best films I have seen in many a year. Their were NO special effects to speak of. It is NOT Narnia with talking lions and 80 minutes of special effects. It is a story of hope, dreams, love and understanding. If you walk out of this with a dry eye then someone unplugged your emotions. I loved it.
PS: Don't tell any of the guys that I cried. Thanks
Here is a critique from IMDb
"The movie touched on my every emotion, bringing me to tall peaks of happiness and leaving me teary-eyed and disconsolate, but still had a perfect and satisfying ending. I also, personally thought, the scenes and situations were more powerful, poignant, and realistic, than the book, which surprises me. Usually, the movie can't live up to the book. In this case, the phrase seemed switched around. The book didn't live up to the movie. As weird as it is for me to say this about a movie, Terabithia touched my heart like no film has ever before. And I doubt any film will give me quite the same feeling, ever again."

THE PLATE...

2007-06-30T18:43:00.000+10:00

I had to travel down to my parents place, three hours south, to pick up the LLs the other day. I stayed over night and we left, for the trip home, mid morning. Gear was packed into the trusty SUV, every room was checked twice to make sure they didn't forget anything. Hugs were given, kisses planted and farewells said. The LLs and I headed off on our trip home. We were taking our time as we had nothing special planned for when we got home other than unpacking the car and watching a DVD or two. We stopped, what seemed every 30 minutes, for little LL to inspect the local toilets. This kid has a fascination with toilets and can't go past one without having to pee! I kid you not :) At one stop, I decided to buy lunch and let the girls swap seats. One always travels in the front beside me - to keep me company, they say. We ate our lunch in the roadside cafes picnic area and then jumped back in the car for the last part of our journey - about 50 minutes worth.
Ten clicks up the road, I asked Big LL - now in the back seat - if she had grabbed her plate* or had it fallen down beside the front seat when she had taken it out to suck on a menthol lozenger (as she had a cold). Big LL said that she didn't have it, so little LL - now in the front - eagerly looked around the passenger side of the car. Nothing, Nada, Zip!!!!
My mind went into overdrive - the Dragon Lady would kill me if I had lost the device. No matter that her 10 yr old had lost it. She was in MY care so I lost it!!! We pulled over and searched the car from top to bottom. It simply wasn't there. I questioned her..."When did you last have it in your mouth? Where did you put it? Why was it not back in its case? Where is the case?" of course this all came out in one solid sentence in 3.7 nanoseconds. I was frantic. "DL is going to kill me" I thought again - repeatedly. I then knew where it was. Well there was nothing else for it. "In the car" I yelled. I turned around and headed back for the busy road side cafe. It is always full, the car park looks like a major mall's, it's school holidays and the traffic and trade is increased....there is no way I'm going to find it. "I'm dead!". We drove in silence and Big LL sniffled, from her cold and Sobbed because she had failed me. I was too distraught to either berate her, console her or offer a tissue. "I'm Dead!"
I pulled into the car park and luckily the one we used was vacant. "I couldn't be that lucky"..but...as we approached the park. I saw it sitting exactly where it had fallen when Little LL had thrown Big LLs gear hurriedly into the back seat. In her haste she didn't realise the plate was on the front seat, so it went unnoticed in her scramble. Big LL was too sick and is very vacant anyway so she didn't notice it. It is still new to me and I didn't notice it....but here it was. We all dived out at the same time to stare at the little bit of plastic and metal sculptured to the likeness of Big LLs top pallet. "Grab it, Wash it and then super glue it into your Gob" I blathered ,with relief and the knowledge that the DL would have nothing over me. The rest of the trip home was uneventful...even Little LL let me drive past several prominent public toilets.

* A retainer type device that the dentist gave her (at great expense to ME) to keep her teeth straight. She used to suck her thumb when she was little.

FRESH START...

2007-06-29T20:53:00.000+10:00

So what do you think? I designed the header myself...I'm so clever :)

This is the new Blogger 'widget' template and is very easy to use and add 'Stuff' to. It must be because I did it!!!
I grabbed one of their templates and simply changed the text, colours, fonts etc. I added my header which I had designed last year but did not know how to put in the template code. With the new design you simply uplink it (photos) from your PC or Photobucket etc...Simple! I widened the original template and sidebar, to fit my monitor and Firefox and then simply added whatever I wanted...Blogroll, sitemeter etc.
How does it look on your monitor and IE6 or Firefox? I needed a change and this was easy. have a go!!

THREESOME....

2007-06-25T14:10:00.000+10:00

Have you ever woken up beside someone and realised that it wasn't the person you went to bed with?

The other night I went to bed with a beautiful blonde and this morning I awoke to find the blonde was now a mousy blonde, and slightly taller. She had the same eyes though and she was staring through them at me with a hint of a mischievous smile creeping across her face. I blinked a few times and cleared the sleep from my eyes and said, "Where’s K?" She continued the smile then rolled onto her back and yelled "K, Dad’s awake - What do you want for breakfast?" Whereupon, I leaned over and tickled her into submission before being assailed by her bouncing 4-foot tall blonde, clone. Soon, my bedroom was reeling to the peal of laughter as my daughters attacked me with down filled assault weapons through the bedroom linen camouflage nets. The battle was soon over as their valiant assault won through and I was overcome with limpet-mine kisses and tickle grenades."I give in!" I pleaded through tears of laughter "I love you, Daddy" said Little Princess as she threw me into a miniature head lock "You are the best Daddy in the world" said J as she tried to wrestle my love away from her sister. We snuggled up, for another half hour, beneath the pillows and comforter fort and let Saturday morning roll by as the rain danced across the windows and the garden cast it's shadows, as it swayed in the filtered light. I recommend waking up this way to everyone. It is heaven on earth.

We were staying at my parents and I had to share my bed with the Little Princess. All four foot of her takes up fully, two thirds of a queen size bed...she lays across it. She coughs, sniffles and farts all night but still wakes up looking like an angel. She truly is gorgeous. The LLs are staying with my parents for a few days before I head off again on Friday to pick them up. We will then have 10 days together before school starts again. I may need another holiday to get over them lol

WOMBLE LAND....

2007-06-21T13:50:00.000+10:00

Wet weather continues to fall in the central tropics, much to the delight of the cattle and grain farmers but to the chagrin of the locals used to the predominant heat of this locale.

We NEED the rain… to wash the roads and clean the buildings, to replenish the rivers and underground aquifers, to make the grass and vegetation grow, to feed livestock and just for a bloody change from the normal day to day sunshine.

We have been in drought for seven years and in that time it has forced the price of electricity up, water rates up, meat and produce up and in general people have had to acclimatise to a different way of dealing with water in the household. The last one being a good thing, as us people that lived/live on farms have always had to deal with the lack of water and it was a cherished resource…people in the towns and cities squandered it.

Anyway, I digress, as usual. My real reason for posting is the fact that the damper weather has come with a sudden drop in temperature. Now, for you folk of the northern hemisphere or that live in the southern states of Australia you will be used to a summer and a winter. One hot and the other cold but up here in the tropics we tend to have ‘Bloody Hot’ followed by ‘Not So Hot’.

The inhabitants of this rural city have not had a cold day for many, many years until yesterday! Oh yes! we dropped from an Average 25 C (77F) to 12 C (53F) and today is colder at about 8 C (46F) and both days have had a wind that sliced thru our clothing, burning our skin. I like the heat but I also like the cold. You can rug up in the cold and there is the rub. A lot of these here tropicanas don’t have cold weather clothing as was evident when I took the dangerous journey into the mall today, during lunch.

First, I had to drive in the rain along suburban streets with people that had not seen rain for many years and did not have the first idea of how to drive in it. I am sure they thought.. “Hey, the roads are cleaned…I can drive faster” because they were all over the shop…sliding out their tail ends on every corner, splashing thru wash outs hoping that the water was indeed only 1 meter deep (3 ft), tailgating so their windscreens didn’t get grime and mud flicked on them, braking too late and too hard and usually ending in someone’s rear end. Absolute mayhem!

It took me an age to find a car park as every wanker in town must have the day off or decided to go to the mall for lunch. Really, I think they went there to get warm as although most homes up here have air-conditioners, they do NOT have heaters. Nor it seems do they own warm clothes, which was evidenced as soon as I went thru the automatic doors in to Womble land.

The assortment of clothes donned by these warm climate troglodytes was hysterical. It looked as if they had either, rushed in and bought all the warm garments from the local Salvation Army second hand store or they had dug thru their cupboards and pulled out the warm clothes they had bought the last time it was cold…in 1978!!! Honestly, I saw a woman wearing an Addidas track suit last seen in the 1980 Olympic Games and worn by a Russian shot-putter. It was bright red, with blue stripes down the pants and was also four inches too short in both the crutch and leg length. She had Bright pink woollen socks stuffed into a pair of slippers. Another guy wore jeans; topped with at least two flannelette shirts, beneath an old green pullover, which was full of holes….he was wearing thongs (Jandals/Flip flops). I mean why try and keep warm if your bloody feet are going to freeze?. The assortment of ill fitting, outdated and obscene jackets was nothing compared to the variety of footwear used to keep their tootsies warm. We had black leather boots, an assortment of Ugg Boots in all styles and colours and a plethora of slippers. I kid you not; I swore I saw a woman wearing a large pink dressing gown complete with a stitched on Rose! And to a man they were ALL bitching about how cold it was.
I love it. I aim to leave work early and pick up my LLs from the Dragon Lady (actually she needs a new name as we get on pretty well now), bring them home where we will all don our favourite, comfortable, warm clothes; slip on some woolly socks, make large cups of steaming Hot Chocolate and sit around the lounge room watching TV or whatever takes our fancy. The heater will be warming the house as I speak.

The LLs and I are off tomorrow, down the coast again. I am dropping them off at my parents for the first week of their holidays before I rejoin them on the 29th for the last week of the hols. We aim to play Golf (they want to drive the cart), Go bike riding, watch a few Movies and generally just hang out.

LITTLE PRINCESS...

2007-06-17T10:15:00.000+10:00

Little LL (Princess) has her 9th Birthday tomorrow but we spent the weekend celebrating along with her sister. I gave her money after hockey yesterday and we went clothes shopping. I thought it time she can select her own clothes and she loved the idea. Someone should have warned me that the shopping bug bites girls when they are little. it is not something that slowly grows on them as they get older. It is a sudden impact disease that strikes them whenever they see a pair of shoes and have money, credit or a man close by lol
Princess had been very ill at school the day before so I picked her up and comforted her all afternoon and well into the night as she was burning up. I placed a wet wash cloth on her forehead and brushed her hair...it was all peaceful and tranquil. I fed and looked after her elder sister at the same time but Princess was very ill so i tended to her the most. At midnight the fever started to break so i let her be and fell into my own bed. I was up at 6.30 am to get Eldest Ll ready for Hockey and Princess seemed a lot better although she did not play. She sat beside me as I gave encouragement to her sister, in the Goal (See last post). After all of this, I was very tired and really just wanted to get home make some lunch for us all and sit back on the couch and have a little Dad nap....but...I gave the Princess her Birthday card and inside was the money. A rather large amount for one so small. She immediately said "I am going to bank it" - "Great" I thought, she is responsible - but...after she closed her mouth from squealing with glee, hugging me and telling me I was the best Dad in the world...a mist, slowly, fell over her features. I little tick started in her left eye, she tossed her golden locks and stroked the last tendrils over her right ear - she had transformed!
I saw my little girl become a shopaholic before my very eyes....I could see into her brain as she coordinated her belts with her shoes and categorised her closet by season, colour and WOW factor...I was doomed. I had seen it in Eldest LL but she is more reserved and sporty than Princess. Princess by name and nature.
Anyway, with dread I took her shopping. I did not know so many things were sold in the colour of Pink and that pink has 387 variants and shades. She tried on 5,893 different Shoes, Jeans, Dresses, Bangles, Shoes, Alice bands, Scrunchies, Shoes, Sweaters, Jackets and a myriad of other items that flashed by my eyes behind the veiled curtain of the change room. I had to comment on each and every item but she paid no attention to what said if it was in the negative and instead just heard the affirmations. She was in a trance. Three hours later we were done and that was only because the shop was closing. After she paid cash for her ensembles she wanted to wear everything there and then. I put my foot down and said she could do a fashion show when we got home. Why I'll never know.
I drove home feeling tired, drained and a little emotional. this little girl was comatose with a fever the day before and here she was beaming, smiling, preening and non stop talking about how all of these items could be accessorised. her sister had caught the bug and I knew that on her birthday we would be in for the same journey - she must be a late bloomer compared to the little Princess. I could feel a wetness in my jeans and soon discovered that my wallet was crying - it was very spiritual. I was doomed. I love my LLs but what did I do to be tormented in such a manner. I could have had boys and been able to shop in 4 nanoseconds because we would have had to get home to watch the game, everything could have been in blue and they would not have cared that their jeans were one shade lighter than their top. The fashion show went without a hitch. I missed the afternoon football on TV. The girls went off to their room and dreamed of spending more of my money. I cooked Chicken Kiev with some potato wedges and vegetables. The girls ate it while discussing the virtues of different mobile ring tones, the inadequacies of the local shops compared to the city shops and the fact that I did not have a clue about shopping - "Hello - I'm sitting right here"..."Its OK Dad - your a Boy" they chorused. I cleaned up, as serfs do, and then sat down in my favourite chair and fell asleep and dreamed of SUVs, Camping, Fishing and Sports. I was woken when the girls came to Kiss me good night and thank me for a great day. All was forgiven I was once again Dad instead of a mere "BOY".
I love being a Dad but there really should be a manual or a Mother about :)

BLACK and WHITE...

2007-06-16T15:40:00.000+10:00

It was a chilly morning, for tropical Queensland, at about 18 degrees (64F) and we set out from the house at 7:30 am for an 8:00 am hit off. Eldest LL was playing Hockey (Field) on Astro Turf, a real treat to a 10 (and a 1/2) year old - no wet grass, no bumpy outfields or unreadable sidelines. Turf is the domain of the elite female players...tall, tanned, toned, teenagers that tantalise the troglodytes tethered to the terraces...the elite have legs that stride gracefully over the dampened man-made surface, they strike the ball with precise timing that sends it screaming across the green and hammering it into the goal. The Keeper can carry the 30 kilograms (70 lbs) of protective gear effortlessly and drop into the split position, legs akimbo, within a nanosecond. She has the balance and poise of a ballerina with the arsenal and power of an Amazon. She is the last line of defence, she is the warrior maiden, she is the difference between winning and losing...and with this in mind my gangly, little lady was tasked with being the goal keeper for the first time in her under 11 match. She stands at a diminutive 132 centimeters (4' 8") and is slight of frame weighing in at 30 kilograms (66 pounds) wringing wet :)
She donned the protective gear with trepidation and the aid of the two coaches and half the back line...First were the overshoes...think Ogre feet, then the shirt with built in shoulder pads and chest protector...think NFL Line backer (yes I watch gridiron), then the lag pads...think side of a barn - these things are supposed to cover just above the knees and join up with padded shorts but LLs pads went past her knees and were hitting her in the chest were her boobs will, one day, hopefully sprout. They tried to fit her with the large mitten type padded gloves but soon abandoned the gloves as she could not hold her stick....last of all came the helmet - all warriors need a helmet. Hers was black, with white lightening flashes going down the side, a large metal grill covered her face so she could see and not be hit. Now she was all kitted up and only had to make her way to the goal and turn around...simple stuff unless you are a 30 kilo girl covered head to toe in armour that doesn't quiet fit. She started duck waddling toward her goal, clutching her stick with one hand while the other held her helmet at an angle so she could see were she was going. She started at the same time as the other keeper but the other keeper was 13 and filled out (if you know what I mean). LL was only half way to her goal by the time the other keeper reached hers and the ref blew game on. LL then attempted to run and it looked like someone had turned the gravity off on Neil Armstrong...she started to bound....the heart was willing but the body wasn't able. She sort of galloped and waddled her way to the far goal and finally, out of breath, she made it to her castle. She looked more like Dopey Dwarf than Xena warrior princess.
She looked so tiny within the confines of the padding and giant over shirt. I walked around the field and stood behind her goal to give her some support and advice. She had to constantly tilt her head back so she could see thru the grill LOL. She could hardly lift her feet because she couldn't feel where her feet finished and the overshoes started. The game was going well for LL's team and they stayed camped down at the opposing goal for many minutes scoring two quick goals but the other team were virtual giants and ate small goal keepers for breakfast...the inevitable happened...their gargantuan centre came thundering down the field at an alarming speed obliterating two defenders beneath her hobnailed sneakers...more of our girls fell victim to the sheer power and bulk of the marauder. She feigned left, feigned right and then did the Maori sidestep by just powering straight ahead squashing the last line of resistance.. "Stay in the centre of your goal LL" I offered as I retreated further from the goal " Move to the ball, Honey" I stammered as I climbed over the protective outer fence..."Use your padding to block..." BLAM....was the noise I heard as I ducked, then quickly looked back up to see the demise of my eldest. Luckily the ball had missed her and slammed into the metal of the backboard. "2-1 Dad"..."they scored but I couldn't see the ball" she continued thru the raised helmet oblivious to my terror "Dad, I can't see thru the grill and I can't move with all this padding" She quailed. The game progressed and she successfully kept out the next few onslaughts - Brave Girl. Thankfully, half time rang and I urged her to hurry to the centre huddle before half time was over. Off she waddled, ripping off the helmet as she galomped toward her teammates. Her team were winning 5-1. She whinged all the way to the centre about the helmet and clothes.
The second half started and LL and I were at the other end of the field. Her team were kicking arse so LL was a little bored. She asked me a zillion questions about the world and "stuff" when she said "They gave me a new helmet Dad" "I Know" I replied "How do you know that?" she said incredulously "Because the helmet you are wearing now is WHITE and the other one was BLACK" ... "Oh yeah" She giggled. She didn't see the ball again and her team won 8-1. "Dad, I'm not playing Goaly again" "OK baby" I replied "At least you had a go"

TOEY...

2007-06-14T18:53:00.000+10:00

TOEY (Ad) TOE-E.

Adjective:

1: (slang) Lustful or sexually aroused

2: (slang) Anticipatory
"I'm as Toey as a Roman Sandal"

Synonyms:

1: Horny

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

Thats all I really wanted to say

ONE-UPMANSHIP...

2007-06-11T19:24:00.000+10:00

Well I've had another weekend, down at the coast, with family and it seemed that my tribe has become a tad elitist.

My brother rocked up with his 18 year old son and his son’s 6 week old daughter (Isn't she gorgeous?), driving his BMW...My brother was driving not the baby…what were you thinking?

My other brother sent us an email showing off his new mansion, built in a Spanish style…it has more rooms than the local hotel and more BBQ areas than we have combined BBQs....he is still jealous of the BMW and I am sure he will nick out and snap up that Porsche he has been eyeing off...He has pictures and 'engine sound' stored on his Blackberry ~shakes head~

My Dad scoffed at there apparent wealth…from the deck of his new boat parked beside his new house and then went out and bought a Plasma TV larger than the Imax screen at Dreamworld and apparently its visible from the space shuttle. (A special prize for Non Australians that can identify the movie showing)

My job was to hook it up to the DVD recorder, Cable TV, Surround sound and fridge…O.K I was lying about the fridge but I think it was the only appliance I didn’t hook up.

As Mum and Dad have only been in the house for about a month. The cables were packed away .

This is Dad's idea of packing!!!!!

I didn't pull out my new Laptop as I felt like that guy on 'Jaws' when they were comparing scars and all the guy had was an appendix scar compared to their shark bites...but my laptop is nice and had to be bought as my PC sort of caught fire last week. Apparently, the two inch layer of dust trapped on top of the Graphics card is not supposed to be there...who knew?

PARADISE WASHED....

2007-06-06T09:10:00.000+10:00

The clouds have settled over paradise today. A grey, heavy mass seems to hover a few hundred feet in the air and its boundaries are infinite. It completely blankets the blue sky that normally stands in its place. The sun is nowhere to be seen or felt. The air is dank and wet. The distant hills and mountains are merely silhouettes, even though it’s mid morning. Drops of water spatter, occasionally, against the windows of my second floor office. A drizzling mist is moving in from the west making the grey even greyer. Men walk about in bright yellow jackets, heads bent forward and hands firmly stuffed into jacket pockets – protecting themselves from this unusual environment.
It hasn’t rained here for a long time. Noone can remember when we had two consecutive hours of rain, let alone two overcast and wet days.

Paradise is hidden beneath a blanket of moisture that will make it reborn. The green will reappear within hours of the sun returning, the trees will stand taller, the streets will be washed clean of the drought inflicted dust, people will smile again as the tropical flora bursts forth with all the colours of the rainbow. Above the green will be the bluest blue on earth. A sun and water washed sky that goes on forever and never meets the land.

Paradise will be back shortly… She is just taking a well earned shower and its about time.

SLEEPLESS in PORT...

2007-06-01T10:27:00.000+10:00

It was early….too early for the birds to wake up and sing too early for the cappuccino shop to be selling steaming mugs of adrenalin, too early for McDonalds to be serving Hash Browns and Eggs…basically it was early in the morning at dark o’clock and I was standing on a wharf waiting for my replacement to show. I was tired…the type of tired where your muscles ache through to your bones, your feet burn from standing too long, your eyes itch from the strain of staying open for 20 straight hours and your head hurts from trying to remember far too many facts, actions, results, rates and commands….I was very tired and wanted to sleep.
We had been loading the sea going monstrosity for 36 hours and there seemed no end in site. The Captain wanted an audience, the Chief wanted a faster load rate and the First Mate…well lets just say I think he had been at sea for far too long. They all wanted my attention and I wanted nothing to do with them. I was over it.
Early morning, just before dawn breaks, is usually a moment I look forward to, each day that I am at the port, but this morning I was too tired to even notice the shimmer of orange as it danced across the water and slowly lit the world. I wanted to close my eyes and lay down for eternity. I wanted to rest my aching body and switch off my overclocked brain. Eventually, my replacement turned up and I briefed him on tides, ballast, load rates, schedules and a myriad of other things that we must control during our maritime escapade and then I crawled into my car and meandered slowly toward my accommodation, I stripped and dumped my clothes inside the door leaving a pile of boots, jeans and fluorescent coloured safety gear strewn between the door and my bedroom. I leant into the shower and turned the water on instantly steam clouded the room. I closed the glass door and sat upon the tiles and let the refreshing yet scalding water take the pain out of my muscles and relax my tired mind. A shower is great place to unwind and as the water cascaded over my body I drifted off to sleep. I don’t know how long I was there but the water had dropped a few degrees by the time I woke. I slowly pulled my self up and turned off the shower. I draped myself in a thick white towel, walked the few paces to my bed and fell into the pillows. I woke 10 hours later. It was one of the best sleeps I have had in a long time.

Did you miss me?

AWAY AGAIN...

2007-05-27T10:28:00.000+10:00

Yes! I'm off to the port for another week, with some clients, and will hopefully be back for next weekend with the LLs. Take care everyone and I'll catch you later. The port pics are in the previous post :)

MY WORLD....

2007-05-24T11:15:00.000+10:00

Welcome to my world. This is where I live and it is a pretty cool place :)

If you liked this one then here is the one I made a few weeks ago.

DEAD END....

2007-05-22T21:35:00.000+10:00

A man died sometime last night. He simply drove his car to a lonely, deserted siding, beside a lonely, deserted stretch of country highway and ended his life. I don't want to know how he died but I want to know why. What drove a man to the very edge of his existence and made him jump? What was the final straw? What was the trigger? What did he hope to achieve? Australian law prohibits the reporting of suicides so he wasn't going to get 15 minutes of fame although I truly believe that they should be reported so people understand the insidious nature of depression and the sheer number of suicides in this country. Who did he leave behind? Everyone leaves someone even if they don't know it...they effect someone that is left behind. How did it effect them when the police knocked on their door this afternoon?
How do I know it was this afternoon? I know because I stood within 200 meters of where he ended his life and if I had been a few hours earlier I may have discovered him. I would have been one of those he left behind. Did he think about me or the guy that actually found him? NO!!
I was tasked with surveying a stretch of road today to report on a proposed new entry to our latest mine. I left from work early and it was one of those beautiful, tropical pre winter mornings. It had rained the night before and everything had been washed clean. The grass and trees looked greener, the sky bluer and the clouds crisper. I drove the 40 odd kilometers to the predestined point and found myself amongst a mass of Police cars as I pulled of into the siding, adjacent to our new road. They told me what had happened, after I explained why I was there. Someone had found the body a few hours earlier.
A man was dead and people where going about there business, tourists drove within meters of where the body lay hidden behind the long grass, trucks plied their trade between the major cities and the police went about the grim task of putting the pieces of a riddle together to find out about the last few desperate hours of an equally desperate man - that now did not exist. I listened to the police chatter on their radios and wondered how close I had come to the same decision, as this man, a few years ago. I feel sorry for the unknown man that lay in the dew wet grass and was selfishly glad that it wasn't me.
There is always another tomorrow and I hope to have many more...

HOT THAI....

2007-05-17T20:33:00.000+10:00

It must be foreign foods! It has to be as there seems to be no other explanation. I'm not normally clumsy and I don't eat like a porker at the trough but somehow food and I this week have had a falling out. The other day it was the scalding water from the pasta and today was even worse. A freak Accident and it must have been bad because everyone that either saw it or heard about it laughed their arses off. Food and I are in the twixt of some evil shifting of the moon or Jupiter is up Uranus or I'm as clumsy as Miss Steph (lol). No! It cannot possibly continue for I fear the third strike, a la Steph and bad things happen in threes. What would be the third strike after today's effort? An exploding lasagna? Oh...I forgot...you want to know what what happened :)
Well, it was lunch time and as usual I was hungry but today I decided to leave the plant and drive into town to grab some tucker (Aussie slang for food...see you can learn things from a blog)..anyway, I parked outside the little mall and spied, no less than, our Managing Director and our new Chief Financial Officer scoffing down noodles from the 'Noodle Bar' (Catchy Name). I think to myself "If its good enough for them then its good enough for me". "How's the noodles?" I say as I pass their table "Great" says the MD and the CFO smiles as he attempts to look debonair while trying unsuccessfully to eat with chopsticks as a slippery pork piece flies across the table "The hot is HOT so try the Mild" he continues "Thanks" I reply as I enter 'Noodle Bar'. "Wachyou wan?" "Num free bery Gu...U try?" asks/explains the gorgeous little Asian woman behind the glass topped enclosure full of colourful foods and things that wriggle "Give me the HOT Box" I proudly order, so everyone can hear "Yu wan mile, me'um or ho" and I quickly broke the code to work out that she was asking me what levels of hotness I required (Mild, Medium or Hot) "I'll have Hot" I responded with much bravado and machismo and any other maleness word that is used in these situations where we are obviously showing off and not thinking with....well...anything! I collected my ticket and waited and watched for 15 minutes as the ingredients were gathered and passed to the Wok guy who quickly dispatched the greens, meats and noodles into flaming peanut oil that erupted even further. He tossed and flicked and stirred for about 3.75 seconds and then upended the lot into an asbestos lined carry box with a dinky little metal handle. "Nu Free? Ho, Ho box" called the cute little Asian women and passed me the chopsticks, napkin and container that radiated heat and melted the plastic forks beside the register. Other customers moved out of my way and shied from the container as I delicately held it at the full stretch of my arms. I put my sunglasses on to shield my retinas and my sphincter sent urgent neural messages to my brain telling me not to eat it on pain of death and an all nighter on the crapper. I passed the MD and CFO as they were finishing and they asked jointly "What did you get?" "The HOT, HOT-BOX" I proudly replied and they too shied away but looked at with me renewed with respect and a little pity. I knew, however, that they were contemplating talking to the HR manager about a new replacement in Logistics for they feared for my very being.
I drove back to work with the little container bubbling away on the passenger seat. I carried it through the maze of the plant and up to my office. The others that share my space asked "whacha get?" "Wheres ours?" etc until I told them what it contained. Yes! they shied away and one actually left the room. I saw tears in his eyes.
I placed my lunch upon my desk and slowly opened the container. I was immediately assaulted by aromas of the orient. Memories of makan carts in the streets of Penang assailed my mind. "I can do this. I've lived in Asia. I've eaten with the best of them" I thought to myself and bolstered my spirits as my taste buds retreated to the back of my throat. Some of them leapt from my tongue and where last seen scurrying under the door. Cowards!!!
I unwrapped the chopsticks and settled them into my right hand. I leaned forward as did everyone else in the office. They were holding their collective breaths. Sweat started to leach from my brow and a row of perspiration stood proud above my lips. I twirled the sticks and entwined some noodles. I could see the seeds of the chillies pasted along their lengths. I drew them higher and away from the confines of the box. The screen of my LCD misted over as the steam bathed it. The plant behind me wilted but still I drew them closer to my trembling lips. I sucked them in and the taste was extreme but well worth it. The noodles were hot and I tamped my brow and mopped my lip as I slowly dug down though the container. Spontaneous applause erupted form the masses that watched this brave lunchtime feat. Phones went unanswered and emails unread. Now, I know your thinking "What the fuck is Scorpy on about?" "What calamity as befallen him?" "He bought Hot, Hot noodles and ate them!"...Well, that would have been a great lunch but it had almost concluded when the cobra struck. Its speed was lighting fast and only the keenest eye saw it. Mine didn't!
You see, as I was dragging the last of the noodles from the bottom of the box, one of them whipped off the side of the container and lashed my eye!!! NOT the lid but the actual Cornea (Google it) . The soft gelatinous mass that shields our eyes and is the window that we look through was splashed with steaming hot chili sauce and a few seeds. The burning was instantaneous and intense. Chopsticks went flying. The remaining noodles and sauce were flung far and wide. I collapsed to the floor and the masses ran around like Londoners during the blitz. It was pandemonium. I slowly dragged myself upright and helping hands guided me to the first aid station. I grabbed the eye wash solution and drenched my burning socket and then used about six more before I could actually see a few blurs and very slowly I regained some sight and the pain started to subside. I expected the masses to be cooing and oohing around me, respecting my pain and anguish but I should have known better. They were lying on the floor laughing, they were crying with the tears of humour, they slapped themselves, they grabbed their aching jaws, they sent emails to everyone in their address books, they telephoned friends and family, they took out ads in the paper....they are bastards of the highest order!!
Will no one ever remember the day Scorpy ate the hottest chilli? Yes, they will because that was the day he danced around the office screaming like a little girl, clutching his eye and pouring water down his face and clothes whilst his staff and friends laughed and cried at his expense. :(
My eye is fine now... thanks for asking.

----------o0o-----------

I'm off for three days with the LLs tomorrow afternoon so I'll look forward to your heartfelt remarks and comments on Sunday :)

DAMN!!! HOT!!!...

2007-05-15T20:11:00.000+10:00

I'll let you in on a little secret. When I come home from work, I strip off and put on a pair of shorts only. Sorry for those of you in the cold but I reside in the tropics and it is still 30 C (86F) two weeks out from Winter. So anyway, when I cook I'm always half naked and in danger of spitting oil or splashing hot water as was the case today. I flashed up some pasta to add to a salad and was a little over zealous when tipping it into the strainer. Hot water burst out everywhere and a lot of it landed on me! I have been sitting on the lounge apply cold clothes to my chest and ribs for about two hours and only now is the heat and redness reducing. I also had a cold shower (I'm used to those being celibate lol) so it immediately drenched the burned area. I was very bloody lucky.

-----------o0o--------------

Now, to those of you that think I may have fled the scene or been abducted by an all women Amazon tribe of sex maniacs (Wait! that's MY fanatsy..sorry)...Relax, I've just had a week with my daughters as their Mum had a death in her family and has been out of town...plus she went and saw Keith Urban - in concert not in person. I spent THREE Yes THREE hours with my daughters buying shoes!!!! Three Hours!!!! plus a halter, boob tube thingy each so they can change their shirts at Hockey without the boys seeing their boobies :)...Plus a pair of Jeans each with little flowers and a brand name and a certain amount of fading...plus some of those little socks that appear just over the top of their ankles...plus food...plus, plus, plus... and lots of "Pleeeese Daddy, can we have a hair holder up thingy and some scrunchy things and some...Oooh look something shiny and looks like jewelery..."
I was almost glad to give them back...almost :). They are back, in a few days, and then we are off on a roadtrip to Bundaberg - the home of Rum and beaches - for four days.

NO REVELATIONS...

2007-05-10T18:45:00.000+10:00

EDIT: After consideration I thought pictures may convey it better than words

Rhian tagged me to list eight new things about myself which have never before revealed on my Blog. Now, this will be very difficult as I think I have said everything that I want to about me….but here is at least one…

1: I am, in reality, very Shy but display a gregarious attitude to everyone in the hope of combating their perception...

I’m sorry to disappoint but the things that I haven't yet revealed are the things I don't WANT to reveal. They either hurt too much to conjure up and put down in writing or they may hurt someone else, if they ever saw the light of day. I was not always a saint and I'm still not, in many ways. I have my idiosyncrasies and foibles (Yes! I realise that just one of these would have been sufficient to convey my weaknesses but I like both words) and I have my skeletons and demons...but they are mine and mine alone. I may have talked of loves lost and heartache, at times, or the issues with my ex wife but these are things that, I feel, do not really harm me or others.

I have a lot to hide and things that I feel would likely fit under the banner of 'Things not yet Revealed' are things that I have not even discussed with my Ex. I am not a believer in true love giving rise to truth and honesty about one’s past unless it is directly or indirectly going to affect the relationship.

Some of the things I have done, witnessed and participated in shall remain forever buried. I am now a Father, Teacher and Carer and in the future I may add to these titles but for now they will do me just fine.

My blog is a place where I attempt some humour and relive a lot of the good and some of the sadder things in my past. I'm sure I could have come up with some little, tiny things like I was the School Captain, That I dated more women than I have had hot dinners or I was awarded a Bravery Commendation but without going back thru my archives I don’t think I could genuinely states eight unknown facts not before seen on this blog. Sorry Rhian this is pretty lame:(

I'M BACK ...

2007-05-07T10:19:00.000+10:00

Hi all..I took this at 5:32 am this morning as I drove back into town. I was away for four days helping my Parents move into their new house, further down the coast. It is another great Queensland coastal town with beaches, sidewalk cafes, great weather and the relaxed lifestyle that everyone should aspire to. They moved three hours North (but still 3.5 hrs south of me) and this is the closest they have been to me since I left home...many, many moons ago. My LL's love it but won't get down there for another two weeks and they are champing at the bit...they love their Pop.
I couldn't sleep so I left at 02:00 this morning and drove back on the deserted highway with an almost full moon and very little traffic. I could have driven with my lights off as the moon and stars were that bright. I love Australia and the highways where it is an hour or more between towns and when you pull over and switch off the engine you hear.....nothing. It is awesome. I'll catch up on some reading (blogs) later today but I have to get ready for work tomorrow and do all the domestic stuff (Yuk)

LUNCHTIME...

2007-05-02T13:12:00.000+10:00

When you are next standing in the food court wondering what you should eat for lunch, I suggest that you take a look at who is eating where.
Today I ventured to the local metropolis and into the air-conditioned shopping mall. I walked past all the gaudy new clothes styles attached to good looking mannequins and perved at MILFs and teenage girls dressed up with more 'accessories' than Paris Hilton. I window shopped my way past the computer store and left drool marks on the glass adjacent to the new display of Playstations and Xboxes.
Then I entered the 'Food Court' at 5 minutes to midday...probably a bad move on my part as it was packed. The food court has your usual array of smallish store fronts including the standard Chinese, Surf and Turf, Muffins, Coffee, Pizza, Cakes and Pastries, Hamburgers and Chips (Fries), Deep fried everything and then tucked away in opposite corners are a Sushi Servery and a Kebab take-away. "HMmmm" I think to myself "Should I go healthy or Tasty?"... "Should I indulge in the freshness of Fish, Rice and Seaweed (I do like it btw) or should I tackle a fully blown Kebab dripping with Oil, Beef, a smattering of garden greens, Cheese, Tabouli and loaded with Hot Chilli Sauce?" ... "Hmmm…Dilemma".

So, while I was stuck in my quandary, in the middle of the teaming masses of suburban shoppers, intent on feeding their faces all at the same time, I contemplated the rather slim Girl walking from behind the counter of the Sushi bar and ambling thru said masses. She was heading directly for 'Kebab Heaven'. She greeted the Kebaber and tendered her order. A few minutes later she was sitting at a table scoffing a larger than her mouth kebab while oil oozed from the corners of her lips and dripped down her cheeks while her throat opened and closed to accommodate the sheer size... It was rather erotic ;)

Problem solved! I ate a Kebab and washed it down with a Diet Coke to assuage my conscience. Mmmmm

MARRY ME?...

2007-04-30T09:45:00.000+10:00

Why, when couples get engaged, is it the male that brings the gift? The male has to spend X % of his gross wage to purchase something that was dug out of the ground and is made up of the same base material as coal. He will, possibly, have to pay for an exorbitant meal at some up market eating house where everything is written in French and served in portions that would not staunch the hunger pains of a ravenous canary. He may also have to conjure a ruse, with extravagant detail and timing, to ensure that his beloved is further astounded by his ingenuity and romance. Something along the lines of a giant Billboard stating his undying love and a statement such as “Berryl will you marry me?” plastered across it in 6 foot letters or he could hire an elephant to deliver the ring to the front door of her work place complete with a TV crew. Now what does the male get in return? Well….NOTHING!!!! and before you all jump on the elephants back and pronounce that he gets the undying love of his Juliet …Think about the fact that SHE also gets his undying love but it has cost HIM six months pay – for a rock that is probably way overpriced, Hunger pains – due to the small portions of French food, Anxiety – because he has planned this for seven weeks and the stress has been unbearable, Humiliation – because his mates are going to see him astride an elephant with a trained monkey delivering a ring to his GF on National TV and he isn’t even guaranteed a positive response! It is a tough gig, especially if you also factor in that if she leaves him the rock goes with her!
Now, I would like to fix this unbalance in the universe. I propose that women should, as of July 1st this year, take over the mantle of the ASKEE. Part of their responsibilities will be to:
1: Ask the MAN to marry them and include such statements as “You take my breath away”, “I cannot think of waking up without you beside me”, “You are my life” and “I fell in love with you and your SUV”

2: Stage the event at Hooters, a Sports Bar that he frequents or any large outdoor sports event,

3: The ASKEE must climb atop the nearest bar and perform her rendition of any of the line dancing sequences from UGLY COYOTE, and

4: Instead of a ring, present him with a new Harley or if he is not into sports/machines give him a Gift Voucher for an electrical store to the value of whatever the ROCK would have cost if he asked YOU!
You would be amazed at how much STUFF you could buy for the same cash as an itzy bitzy Diamond!
Now if we could also get you to forget about the ‘Little’ wedding and its associated headaches and costs we would be well on our way to lowering the national credit debt :)

LEST WE FORGET..

2007-04-23T22:10:00.000+10:00

ANZAC DAY

is held on the 25th of April every year, in Australia and New Zealand. The nations will pause to remember our fallen, from all wars and conflicts, and to celebrate those that remain. It is our National remembrance day and is held in higher regard than 'Australia Day'. I will again don my medals and attend the dawn service before joining in the midday march through the city.

I will have a few beers with the Diggers, Airmen and Sailors of wars gone by. I will reminisce with the newer brigade and generally spend a great afternoon with people that I know and understand. I joined the Military at 15 and come from a long line of servicemen and women dating back to WWI and WWII. I love the comradeship and the innate understanding that occurs between people of the forces. It is impossible to explain to a 'civilian' but rest assured that it is like a family. We will not celebrate war or discuss its merits. We will be there for the ones that aren't here anymore and will down a beer and tell a story or two in their honour...Lest We Forget.

STILL ALIVE!....

2007-04-23T11:06:00.000+10:00

Just to let everyone know that I am still alive...but ,unfortunately, snowed under with work!

Fallen Scorpio

THE LAST TACKLE...

SINGLE...

Contact front...

The REUNION...

Hi All...

SUMMER WAR...

NEW DIGS...

START ANEW...

BOMBS AWAY....

THE KISS...A 101 Class

TEENAGE ANGST...

STALKER LOST...

INSTANT...

Night Moves....

Clearing the Air.....

G'Day...

SALUTE AGAIN...

LOVE...

SNAPSHOT...

ENTERING THE VOID

FISHY TALES...

GOING DOWN...

ABSENT...

LUSTAARGH, AGAIN....

TIP of the DAY...

LOOKING GLASS...

FIRST TIME, AGAIN...

CHOICES...

SOUL MATES...

ULTIMATE LOVE...

LABOURFIED....

PAIN...

(WO)MAN in BLACK...

LESSON LEARNED?....

BIRTHDAY BLUES...

ROLE REVERSAL...

STALKERLESS?....

DIAL a DATE...

JUST SCRUB IT...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY J...

MYSTERY GIRL Revisted...

Back from BLAH, BLAH, BLAH...

Blah, Blah, Blah...

DREAMS...

The RIGHT THING TO DO II...

A MEMORY FOR J...

MATES....

MOLAR MAYHEM...

CHECK MATE....

I NEED A MAN!!!

WOMENS ANONYMOUS...

DO YOU REMEMBER...

DOCKED...

ANTICIPATION...

AWAY AGAIN...

LOVE HURTS....

ALL ABOUT ME....

WATER COOLER...

LOST BOYS...

CELIBATE NO MORE....

The Accidental Tourer…

PEDERRORISTS...

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE...

TIMING...

MIDDLE of the ROAD...

FIRST GLANCE...

BIRTH, DEATH and MARRIAGE...

I HATE MONDAYS....

MOVIE DAY...

THE PLATE...

FRESH START...

THREESOME....

WOMBLE LAND....

LITTLE PRINCESS...

BLACK and WHITE...

TOEY...

ONE-UPMANSHIP...

PARADISE WASHED....

SLEEPLESS in PORT...