Flinders

It’s been a very very draining day.   Today, my mother, myself and my sisters went to Straddie to spread my father’s ashes out at one of his favourite places on Flinders Beach.   I totally wasn’t looking forward to this.  I worked until midnight last night and then had to get up early this morning to get on the barge to Straddie.  As we drove towards Cleveland…. me chugging down on a V for breakfast in a desperate hope that I might become compis mentis enough to not drive us into a ditch – and them chatting away as though we’re off for a lovely picnic day out or something ….. I realized I really … REALLY didn’t want to go.  I just felt absolutely no inclination what so ever to be a part of this.

Over the past couple of weeks, it’s become very apparent that my father’s passing away has hardly affected me at all.  And in fact, I find myself more upset about the fact that I’m not upset … than I am about having actually lost him.  Last week, a friend was asking me how the family was coping, and she said she couldn’t begin to imagine what we must be all going through….   😐   Well upon hearing that, I had to sit there and ask myself why I wasn’t going through anything?  Since Dad died, I’ve mostly felt a huge sense of relief… relief that he’s no longer stuck in his rebellious body… relief that my mother is no longer working herself to the bone caring for him… relief that I wasn’t called on to help him die after all…. relief that it’s all over essentially.   So mostly I dont feel that I’ve been going through anything….. let alone ‘unimaginable’ grief.  

And recognizing THAT… makes me feel guilty…. with a capital G.    What sort of heartless baggage feels so little over her own father’s death???  

But for better or worse, I was on this god awful day trip whether I liked it or not.   IN the end we did what we went for…. spent the day doing the little traditional Straddie family holiday things, walking the scenic route around Point Lookout, eating ice blocks sitting atop Adder Rock, buying liquorice at the Mintee Street shop and going for a nice long walk up Flinders Beach.  We found the spot where the freshwater meets the ocean and here was where Mum wanted to place his ashes.   Quite predictably as soon as those ashes were released from the urn, my Mum, and both my sisters all ended up in tears…. while I stood there… watching them… trying not too feel so distant… trying to give them hugs and support… and yet….. mostly I remember being suddenly grateful for my reflective Oakley sunnies…. as it meant they couldn’t notice that I wasn’t even remotely upset.   😐

Tonight, I feel like I must be a truly awful person.   I feel cold, distant, unemotional and heartless…. almost devoid of normal human feeling. That’s how I currently see myself, in light of my inability to muster a single tear of farewell for my Dad… or if not for that… then one might expect some sense of empathy with my mother’s grief…  but I got nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  

What is wrong with me????    🙁
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Minty Fresh Cock Breath!

I heard the most fantastic story last night…. and laughed so hard, my face was aching 🙂

A friend of mine was telling me that he recently had a liaison (I use the term loosely) with his current little fuck buddy.  He calls her that cos they’re friends of a sort, but they are definitely not in a romantic relationship… they just get together from time to time to shag… as you do.  Anyway, he met up with her the other night and tells me that everything was pretty ‘normal’ until there was a ‘condom incident’. Upon enquiry I discovered that he’d accidentally pulled out of his condom stash… a condom that has some mild desensitizing effects – it’s slightly thicker than normal and has some sort of  strange menthol stuff in it and they’re designed to give a guy a bit of extra endurance (slamming indictment right there that he owns some in the first place!!!)    And then he gave me a rather animated run down on how he often has trouble getting off when he’s with this girlie anyway, cos he’s just not that ‘into’ her in the first place….. and now here he was wearing a condom designed to stop a guy from ‘going off’ too soon!  Which I thought was kinda funny…

So apparently, he didn’t realize what sort of condom he had picked up at the time and then he told me about how he ‘couldn’t get off and was doing her for so long that the fuckin’ thing started to get a bit loose’, so he decided to get a fresh condom…. which of course meant a second application of the densensitizing goo!!  So I’m trying real hard to be sympathetic, but mostly I’m trying not to laugh too much and thinking … it serves you right for shaggin’ someone you’re not that attracted to in the first place just cos they’re there and it’s on offer!  The poor bugger ‘stays on the job’ for about 40 mins from what I understand, at which point, his hapless victim cries off for being too sore, and offers to finish him off  ;)….. which I think is overly generous of her under the circucmstances….  and now we’ve got this poor girl on her knees trying her hardest to over come his slightly numb and now slightly travel worn appendage until she eventually begs off from that too, saying her lips are going numb….  but strangely minty fresh!  LOL

And after the recounting was done… I’m left looking at my friend who is wearing a rather hang dog expression and hoping for some empathy cos he never ‘got his end away’ and all I can do is laugh in his face!!!  No doubt there’s a few lessons in this for everyone… but all I can think of right now is his own rather dry assessment of the situation – that being told you have cock breath may not always be an insult!

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Emoticon Failure :|

It’s rapidly becoming one of the banes of our modern existence I think.  It’s bad enough that it’s so easy to be misunderstood on instant messaging mediums due to the lack of tonal inflection etc, but now you find yourself dealing with embarrassing faux pas stemming from using poorly shortcutted (that’s probably not a real word but it’ll do! 😉 emoticons.

I was trying to wrap a conversation just now with a nice polite ‘anyway it’s nice to catch up …. I’m off to bed’ .  And instead I ended the conversation with ‘anyway it’s nice to catch up …. I’m off to   fucking bed mastrubating fap

And there have been many other similarly embarrassing incidents due to simple typos and strange emoticon allocation.  Wouldn’t care so much, except it was thrown at the one person on my contact list who wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment at all  :S

It’s happened to me before….. little emoticons of people bonking thrown up in the middle of a conversation with a guy I was just getting to know.  One of some crazy pot smoking bear thrown up when I was suggesting getting together with someone for a coffee.  Sigh…. maybe I should just learn to type more carefully…. or get in the habit of actually proof reading what I’ve typed before hitting the enter button… or even go through and delete the offensive emoticons… or switch to a boring IM client that doesn’t have emoticons at all!!!     Or maybe I should just shut the hell up and enjoy a little absurdity every now and then….  🙂

Ps & Qs

I’m quite enjoying working on the helpdesk, I’ve learnt lots of computer type stuff, and met a bunch of interesting new peoples, and dealing with the public can be so much more palatable from a distance like this instead of over a customer service counter (less BO and demanding snot nosed kids).  The money has been grand, (Turkey…. two weeks today!!!)  and I feel like I’m finally contributing around here (thanks MrK for imposing your agenda on me 🙂  And some of the interactions with the customers are positively fun!

Helpdesk Chickie:   Welcome to Goliath – how can I help you?

Customer:  Oh hello there dear.  My internet doesn’t seem to be working, can you put me onto a technical fellow to help me out?

Helpdesk Chickie:  No problem sir, I should be able to help you, can I ask your username please?

Customer:  is that my email address…. ah there, it’s [email protected].

Helpdesk Chickie:  One moment thanks, and I’ll look the account up for you.   ……    Sir, that account seems to have been closed, I can see in the notes that it was closed about 5 hours ago by the authorized representative.

Customer:  Oh goodness!  Really?  Could you hold the phone there a moment dear and I’ll ask my wife?


Helpdesk Chickie:  Certainly sir.

SweetOldMan walks to a door, knocks politely… “May I open the door Dear?” (pause) “Sorry to bother you Dear, but did you close the internet account today?”…. “Yes I did Dear” from the other room…

Customer:  Oh my!  Well thank you very much for your help, I will call back after I speak to my wife.  I’m terribly sorry to have bothered you.


Helpdesk Chickie:  Not a problem Sir.

And this in stark contrast to a similar call I had last week where a customer discovered their account wasn’t malfunctioning and rather had been suspended… which went something like…..  

What do you mean the internet has been shut off? 
The bill hasn’t been paid?!?!   I’m gonna f#$king kill him! 
He told me he paid the goddamn f#@king bill last week.   
BARRY!!!  Why didn’t you pay the f#@king phone bill?


………and hangs up without saying goodbye.

I think I need to work harder on being a bit more SweetOldMan myself…..
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Weird weird world… Part II

Oh…. the goat died, but sounds like the story is anything but dead.  Gotta wonder if the goat really did die in the manner detailed below though – wouldn’t surprise me if there were unreported circumstances surrounding the demise of Rose the Goat/Wife…. it’s just a bit sus dontcha think???  🙂  Then again… the stigma of being ‘that Goat Man’ is likely to follow him round for the rest of his life anyway… so maybe he really had no motive to ‘off’ Rose cos he’s still gonna be ‘that Goat Man’ anyway…. only now he’s still ‘that Goat Man’ but without the hircine conjugal benefits!
goat charles tombe

Charles Tombe is refusing to comment on the affair

Sudan’s famous goat ‘wife’ dies
The best-known goat in Sudan has died months after being “married” to a man in the South Sudan capital, Juba, the BBC has learned.

Local elders ordered a man found having sex with the goat, later called Rose, to “marry” her last February.  “The idea was to publicly embarrass the man,” says Tom Rhodes, editor of the Juba Post, which first ran the story.  The BBC’s story of the “wedding” caught the public imagination and became one of the most read internet stories.  Rose, black and white, is believed to have died after choking on a plastic bag she swallowed as she was eating scraps on the streets of Juba.

‘Sense of humour’
After the marriage, Rose had a male kid – but “not a human one” – Mr Rhodes said, hastily.
The “husband”, Charles Tombe, said he was drunk at the time but has since refused to comment on the issue. The kid is owned by Mr Tombe.  More than a year after the BBC story was first published, it is still picked up by various web forums and being emailed across the world. Recently it got more than 100,000 page views for five successive days.