Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I'm just a playboy of the Eastern world

I'm just a playboy of the Eastern world

Lorks a lordy! That’s what I’m typing but not what I’m feeling. Today dawned just like any other mid winter day but something was different. Within 10 minutes of driving to Abbotsford, to second coat a bathroom, I had acquired my first ever red light ticket. “The fucking cunts!” is all I’ll say about that because things got way worse pretty soon there after. It was probably no more than an hour or so into my working day while I was driving to my next job in Parkville that the Big Black Dog crossed my path. I would have run it over given the opportunity but these canines are tricky and what’s more just ever so slightly intangible. Without any warning my mind just went to dog shit. I seriously considered calling the boss and spinning him some yarn about my house just been broken into or my cat getting stuck in the chimney so that I could bunk off and tell the world to fuck off. The silent dog whistle that summoned the hound emanated partly from the job I was going to and mostly from the fact that I’m just not that into my job. My job isn’t all that bad, I mean it is light years removed from the slavery and penury of kitchens where once I earnt a meager crust being ass fucked by owners and customers alike, but its still not the type of employment I was destined for. I spent the rest of the day looking at shop windows and factories for inspiration as to the nature of my true vocation without much luck. The shit thing is I can’t blame a hangover or even a stoneover for my dark day. It just popped up all by its own little shitty black dog self. Oh the joys of nearing forty, which brings me smoothly on to my next topic.

In 1971 a cosmopolitan and well meaning horde of hippies set up camp down in the valley in Kathmandu. They lived a bohemian life under the cosmic blue sky and whiled away the time by writing poetry, printing rice paper things, eating tropical fruit and generally just arsing around being hip. They were escapists of the highest order living in the highest country in the world and I’m sure they were high most of the time too. Then something happened…

My birthday holds special significance this year as I will try and achieve something that I don’t think I have done since I was 16 and I suspect my parents the same;that is to give up the drink,fags and weed for the immediate 6 weeks thereafter. My only vices will be food, food, food,some left over magic mushrooms, coffee and more food. I also plan to watch the first season of the wire and write a memoir. Luckily I have a partner in sobriety: my sole Irish friend in Australia, Mr Steve Comiskey.

As you are no doubt already imagining, the party will be the party to end all parties so no light weights need attend. There will be a strict door entry policy of hard liquor, hard liquor and liver donors. Sadly my fantastic house mate, John, will not be present to orchestrate the food as he is jet setting around the world, like all fantastic marine biologists do ,so we will go without canapes in his honour. The only nutrition on offer will be beefy bellicose brawls, witty walnut whips and a few fresh fishy frappes.

If I like you and you can drink then you are welcome, if not….get breakfast ready for the boys and girls.

Rex had cement mixed with bodily waste (9)

This is an obvious anagram. The definition is ‘bodily waste’ and the clue is ‘mixed’ which tells you to ‘mix’ up a few words in the clue, those words being REX and CEMENT.

Excrement.

Advertisements