Cold as ice again, finally🐧

Now I have to get a photo of some frost or snow by the end of the month for a fitting Featured Image, and it’s true too: as the temperature drops throughout winter there comes a point where late afternoons are bearable outside only when you’re in the sun – the moment the sun starts dropping shadows as it sets, the shadows become instantly cryo chamber grade cold.

I don’t have to be out there around sunset this year, but a year ago when I did, those icy shadows from the suns setting meant time to get back to the sleeping bag and ready to get in the sucker because it’s unpleasantly cold everywhere outside as soon as the sun sets.

Weather I allow the site to be suspended at the end of the month or not, there’ll be no more 20,000 word monthly posts; nor musings; or rants, because I’m sure the only people who read the site are ex girlfriends and I’m not writing shit for anyone who hasn’t been in my orbit for such a suspicious length of time.

Matter of fact, writing honestly here has done nothing but make my life more difficult, so being open or honest is a thing of the past too: regardless of my keeping the site or not I’ll start omitting anything private from any writing I do since everyone else uses privacy to lie by omission to everyone they know.

I haven’t even given the site address to anyone at all since the church because there’s nothing exciting enough to read here lately and nobody to bother writing better quality shit at, though I’ll start again when I’ve pinned-down a woman worth being driven for.

A woman who at least enables my creativity instead of brainlessly and selfishly farting-on about everything being hers and cares enough to feed me when I’m starving which is such a base expression of basic care it’s impossible to even mumble the word love in relation to Woman #7 or #8, though Mandy was so much warmer and more loving generally than Woman #7 it’s like trying to compare a puppy to a robot with tits.

Anyway that complete lack of base care renders both the women I’ve been with since moving to the mountains completely useless to me and useless to me for so long I feel no inclination to waste my own time and energy on reconciliation with either.

Plenty of insanely intelligent people are as dysfunctional as they are brilliant: Einstein had to be reminded by his wife to eat and was barely able to wipe his own arse so his wife had to treat him like an infant – he was that fuckin scattered – and though I don’t require being looked after like a retard, I am certainly dysfunctional enough to need hot meals on occasion.

I’m going to re-cut the main handle peice out of blackwood because it’s such a opalescent wood and this strip is flawless with chocolate, cream and caramel streaks plus that amazing radial gleam that flashes in the light.

It’s also got a smooth almost waxed feel without any finish applied yet, plus being such a highly figured hardwood already there’s no need to carve any spirals or other detail because the wood already looks like brown-coloured yeah opal so doesn’t need my help to look exceptional.

Thursday, 6th June 2019

10:15 AM

I prefer the dark theme, it just looks better.

Verity complimented me a moment ago on the haircut I gave myself the other night and said it looks excellent, which it does of course because *I* cut it and I’ve got a pretty good eye for mm, everything.

Tanya said that Clarissa told her she’s going to keep volunteering here even without being forced by centrelink which is as excellent as my hair: Clarissa is as opinionated as I am though slightly more socially acceptable, very slightly actually, but she’s also a talker which is great in a place where the majority of volunteers either don’t talk much or talk about pseudo-intellectual horseshit like politics or the plant-nerdoffs that occur where the two of three geekiest ones start discussing comparisons between species of eucalyptus that are pretty much irrelevant since they only ever pertain to the appearance of sub- species of the same plants which are all pretty similar in size and shape.

Kind’ve like spending half an hour at a time talking about ah all the differences between thyme and lemon thyme.

I’ve decided to do two more little A5 drawings to make a series of 3 animals – perfect number, three: a blue and red to match the yellow bee in the middle.

That’ll be all three primary colours with an emotional theme to match each – a cold water animal and hot angry animal.

I haven’t started either of course because I’ve got to think of the right animal to represent anger and heat plus the right animal to represent cold and calm though the former will be more difficult to decide on.

9:00 PM

I’ve gotta download the Nikon wifi app do I can find the original photos of that Koala I saw in the valley: a few of plant nerds are amazed I saw one and tell me I should’ve notified some conservation group of whatever at the time because there super rare and bla duh bla.

Anyway when I searched ‘koala’ here and tapped ‘You there, koala bear!’ there weren’t any photos in the post so they only saw the thumbnail and were all unanimous in their opinion it was a ‘reaaally good’ photo, so I want the full-sized one..

Found em..

And, while digging around I also found several other animal moments from about the same time..

The whole family having dinner together and obviously heard something scary over that way.
Guido looking busted, though I can’t remember why now..
Third birthday party for the dog.
The dog

All ancient history now like a whole different life, and the animal I miss the most is Moose – hands down. But shit happens.

Bye bye mammals of the past, and Moose.

Found the Koala pics though! 😏

Friday, 7th June 2019

That’s right cunts – that’s how you photograph a fuckin’ dog: the image works so well not only because of the body language of the dog, but owing to the combination of opposing light and shadow plus texture/colour difference between the soft/orange dog and hard/blue sky.
And there’s the obligatory pat afterwards – for doing such an awesome job standing on the spot without fidgeting and shit.

12:05 PM

I’m at the nursery and very stoned.

A moment ago I went in the office and told everyone, “I’m way too selfish to make you all a cup of coffee but the plunger’s been plunged and it’s ready to go.”

Immediately following that I walked around the side and told Verity the same thing, but then added, “I would’ve made one for you Verity because I like you, but I’d feel ahh, unsettled, about not making a cup for everyone so it’s easier to just not.”

There’s no point having the site closed when I’m still writing in it so go nuts: I’ve gotta start writing to a higher standard again if I’m ever going to have anything recent that’s worth reading.

1:45 PM

Here’s lunch today: bega cheese slices with ‘manuka honey’ ham, wholegrain mustard and woolies brand ‘secret burger sauce’ and an excellent sauce it is – there’s Dill in the woolies one that cuts through the cream and fat and lightens the sauce with a somehow constantly fresh sweet herb flavour. Excellent.

3:40 PM

As we were leaving about forty minutes ago from the nursery I got a lift home with Verity while Peter – the old fat parody with the long greasy hair parted down the middle – was getting a lift with one of the old ladies who volunteer there.

All four of us walked out to our respective vehicles at the same time, but as Verity and I reached her car and as Carol and Peter reached there’s I spoke at a slightly increased volume – loud enough for Peter and Carol to hear from the twenty meters away Carols’ car was parked – and asked Verity “You want five bucks towards petrol?”, holding out a $5 note towards her.

She said she didn’t need it and that she’s fine but thanks, and I said no more about it on the way home where I just tucked the note in the center console telling her it’s insignificant and more for my benefit anyway, so I feel like I’ve contributed something because I hate asking anyone for anything, but whether she wanted the money was irrelevant.

I offered and offered it loud enough for the other two to hear from their car because once Peter heard I was giving Verity petrol money, he’d have felt like a cunt if he didn’t offer Carol something towards petrol himself and Carol would consider him an opportunistic cunt if he doesn’t offer anything.

Conversely, if he does offer Carol something for the lift, Carol scores a few bucks she wouldn’t have got otherwise because going by what I’ve learnt about Peter, well I just don’t like him while Carol is a kind but generic grandma type so why shouldn’t she be given a few dollars for fuel.

I like steering the dynamic any way I can so for the price of a coffee that worked out very well: especially in such a small organization with such a small group of regular volunteers because you can’t afford and don’t want the whole group turning on you.

Tuesday, 11th June 2019

So I get home 20 minutes ago and find my electricity’s finally been disconnected for lack of payment, mmm-hmm.

16 months in a tent with no power-points and a year homeless with no power-points taught me that power-points aren’t really that important: I hand wash my clothes anyway and there’s nothing in the fridge that needs refrigeration, plus I’ve got about 150,000 mAh of stored electricity in the those very same lithium ion rechargeables and access to power points to charge them.


Maybe I’ll start caring after a few days, but right now all I’ve lost is unlimited vegetating in front of the TV and hot showers – not much of a loss.

Without a TV I’ll be forced to entertain myself using my brain again for a change and go to bed earlier: both of which are beneficial to me, especially given the amount of time I’ve wasted watching that mind-numbing box since I moved in.

It’s been a while since I’ve washed myself with a cloth, but even then that’s more comfortable than a shower because you don’t need to get completely drenched.

Suck my cock AGL: unlike the all the shit-heeled comfort-sluts they have for customers I can go 11 days straight in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere with just a phone – a television is worth nothing to me and I never look forward to getting out the shower dripping wet and freezing my arse off anyway.

Be kind’ve a novelty – the spooky dark quietness once the sun sets, but with super- efficient ultra-bright LEDs in every handheld device now lighting is covered.

Matter of fact, I could easily run a full house with 5V 2A connectors, which I’m sure a massive battery or two could easily store from solar panels. Think about all the gadgets that can charge, plug into or be powered by USB nowadays.

So as an aside, here’s a solution to climate change and green energy I’ve come up with that won’t eradicate negative emissions completely, but will reduce them to almost nothing and a solution that people themselves have the power to do something about directly.

Every house should be running two power-circuits: a 240V mains for heavy appliances like washing machines or dryers AND a 5V circuit to at least cover the lights, music, TV and internet-enabled devices – the whole planet would almost immediately solve it’s emissions crisis right there just by using super-low circuits for their less power-hungry requirements – if the whole planet could start using 5V instead of 240V simultaneously, which it cannot but people would be self-motivated by appliances that are free to run forever once you’ve installed your 5V hardware.

Of course the 5V circuit could simply be plugged into the 240V existing supply and might still save a phenomenal amount of electricity, but solar panels really should be able to run the lower voltage stuff and cost nobody anything at all in coal, CO2 emissions or – once the hardware is installed – money.

Other than fitting-out a premises with the extra wiring, plugs and other hardware – the components of which would are dirt cheap (solar panels and battery excluded) – the only thing required would be for manufacturers to start making appliances that run at 5V/2A which they’d happily do since it would give them a whole new market and a whole new technology to more-or-less just copy their existing designs over to and there you’d have it: green energy sorted.

Of course if these 5V circuits were installed separately to the 240V current standard, people would have the choice between appliances that hog ten times more energy to run, waste power burning it off as heat and can electrocute your arse dead OR appliances than can be run entirely from big solar charged batteries and the sun so cost nothing ever again once you’ve bought them, run cool because they don’t have huge transformers in them that heat-up the back of the appliance caused by the transformer constantly reducing the voltage anyway and cannot kill you unless you’re somebody with a pacemaker or similar shit and get zapped.

People would be able to transition is my point, from the appliances they currently have to appliances that will never cost them anything to run ever and never emit anything bad into the environment.

The coal industry will still be required for electricity owing to the fact that ‘turning off’ our current power grid would be impossible because factories, large public buildings etcetera will always need a lot more juice than smaller homes and offices, but can you imagine how well a new zero-run-cost technology like 5V TVs and fridges would sell?

Could be called ‘Ultra Low Power’ and stamped all over all manner of electronic products all sharing the best feature of any appliances on the planet: costs nothing to run, ever.

The more of these ultra low power appliances companies produce the more appliances you run for free and once the technology gets past it’s initial issues and settles-down you could have your entire home or office completely carbon-neutral and running on sunlight alone.

The middle-class aspirationists would lap that up, and they’re both the majority AND the ones with the money to invest in their own homes, not only with the goal of 100% free electricity but for the warm and fuzzies they’ll get – knowing they’ve got a source of electricity that’s both 100% green and 100% owned by them.

I know, I’m pretty good and already I’ve written-out a thought I would never have bothered to write if I’d been watching TV.

Evidence I really do think about things other than what a huge dick I’ve got, though I sure do think about how my selfishly keeping it to myself has seen it wasted, and one of those things that really needs to be shared.

Sharing, is caring.

I can hear one of my houso neighbors – a junkie with kids by the sounds – groveling to someone desperately for mm, something.

I assume a mother because she’s using kids as an emotional ploy to bookend “oh please, can ya pleeeeeease.”

It’s very peaceful other than her, and now she’s shuddup and gone it’s so quiet all I can hear is that very faint ringing of all the crickets outside.

Monday, 17th June 2019

I dunno who left this filthy doll on the seat, but it was way too creepy to not take a photo of and it’s a great example of why I don’t need to bother drawing or painting: why should I, when I can express emotion perfectly well with a camera and photoshop filter or two – in this case sadness, neglect and abandonment are flawlessly represented in just a few seconds.

In other news I’ve finally discovered podcasts and have found myself getting right into that shit: not music though – I’ve already got plenty of that, but the show’s, interviews and conversations like the ABC Listen app and Spotifys’ mm non-music podcasts.

I can’t believe I’ve never bothered with them before: like old style radio shows that use only 30MB per hour and cover every topic imaginable from universal basic income and other discussions about the betterment of society to comedies and discussions about petcare and the private lives of wild chipmunks.

Necessity made me give them a go of course, since I don’t have the power to watch iview, on-demand or netflix now, but I’m super glad I did: I’ve spent the last week listening to all sorts of shows one after the other to the point I’ve forgotten more about what I’ve learnt than I’ve remembered, but it’s very educational.

I’ve also become more mm maybe not ‘enamored’, but accepting of the dingey houso flat recently: sure the neighbors are worthless junkies, sluts, perverts and other walking shit I wouldn’t spit on, but I don’t even acknowledge the human stains that live around here and if you consider the fact this rental comes with a life-long lease, it’s as close as anyone can get to owning a place without doing anything for it and given that an average privately rented two-bedroom unit in Katoomba costs more than 2.5Γ— what I’ll ever pay here it’s a pretty good low-cost fill-in.

Even once I’ve found a relationship that’s secure with a woman I live with there’s no reason I can’t continue paying rent here while living with her and throwing all the rest of my wage into our coexistence together.

We could even use this place like a storage shed and it’d still be good value.

What other revelations have I realized lately.. I still need a job and I’m going to bring home some pots and potting-mix from the nursery so I can line the kitchen, bathroom and second bedroom window sills with ferns since I can have them for only $1 each and because that side of the unit is sunny all day, so ferns will get plenty of light there, mm what else.. fuck it: I’ve written my share for today, I’ve got podcasts to listen to.

I still don’t give a shit about the power being disconnected incidentally, which isn’t any great surprise: the only appliance I’ve imported into the flat is the fridge and there’s nothing in it, plus, given the fact I spent the first six months with no fridge anyway I’m fine without one.

Other than that, all the electrical possessions I have are rechargeable and battery powered so the four large power-banks I have from my days in the valley only need to keep my vaporizer and phone charged – I’ve been recharging those at the nursery while I’m there so I haven’t even looked close to running out of charge 😊

Oh, I cleaned the flat this weekend too, finally.

Tuesday, 18th June 2019

The ferns aren’t $1 but free for me which is good of her considering I’ve just been told they have to buy the ferns as tissue culture plugs – for $1/each 😊

6:23 PM

I’m going to buy a new sim card on Thursday before I recharge, I reckon.

Used to be a time, the only incoming calls I got were from people I’d actually given my number to. Now, I get so many fuckin spam calls, unknown numbers and god damn AGL ring me to the point of harassment so it’s got to the point I can’t even know if an employer is ringing me about a job and there’s so many random numbers buzzing my mobile every afternoon I wouldn’t have a clue whether I’d missed an actual paid position somewhere since I’m sick of answering only to have some Indian cunt trolling to sell me google rankings and site promotions just because I stupidly used this number to register the site’s domain when I bought it.

I’ve brought home soil too – a backpack packed with the shit so all I need now are the pots and rainforest plantlings to adorn my window sills.

The only reason I had the idea to bother bringing any gardening shit home was I opened the cupboard the other day and saw those poor ginger roots desperately reaching-out with new leaves – they’ve been in that cupboard since I made ginger-beer like, months ago..

Poor little fuckers..

I’ve no interest in growing more ginger roots to actually eat for the record – I don’t use ginger often enough to need it really – but feel sorry for them, so they’ll go into little pots on in the sun with the nursery plants, though I’ve already been informed by the plant-nerds that ginger’s a warm- climate plant so they won’t be pumping-out leaves.

Still, least they’ll not be locked in a dank cupboard freaking-out.

Anyhoo I’ve got a sink-full of toasty hot soapy water and microfiber cloth waiting: gotta go wash my pink bits before it’s gone cold.

Nice to know that no matter who starts or stops reading the site or who loves or hates me, there’ll always be one person who knows me well enough to understand exactly the why behind everything I write: Michele – the only ex I’ve maintained friendship with because she’s the only one who hasn’t fucked me around until I binned the memory of ever knowing her.

Wednesday, 19th June 2019

I’m not viewing the nursery with such a critical, negative eye anymore since I’ve got all the volunteers sorted and have not one but TWO people to dislike so although I’m not quite spoilt for choice of idiots to funnel negative thoughts at, I have enough to balance-out against the people I *do* like, which is all the others.

Someone to love and someone to hate: all a person needs in life, though hate is a bit of an overreach: believe it not there’s nobody I actually hate.

Not at the moment anyhow.

Friday, 21st June 2019

Yesterday I spent the entire day just sharpening all the pruning shears at the nursery, because a) they needed doing and even the other men there seem to be completely useless with any kind of maintenance – of anything – and b) because I kind’ve miss sharpening knives and doing all those other little domestic things.

Much as I hate re-using photos twice anywhere because I consider that the height of creative laziness, considering how filthy-slimy my phone got coated with WD40 and grit and just to snap a few live-action shots of what I was doing, well..

I also ate like a pig, consuming two salad sandwiches plus six little falafel balls plus a tub of hommus over the course of the day.

At one point one of the women – Verity for the sake of giving credit – even came out with a large mug of some kind of chicken and vegetable cuppa-soup she’d put not one but TWO packets into for me, which ironically coincided with my only just finishing the second sandwich and I almost didn’t eat it but decided I may as well: least of all because she’d gone to the effort of making it then bringing it out to me and springing it on me by surprise.

I also brought home a few ferns to kick-off the greening of my windowsills and bathroom plus pots to plant them up – which I should do this afternoon they’re so root bound – and trimmed the dead crap off before leaving the nursery..

I’ve gotta do some shopping then go home to wash something for tomorrow, though I’ve already got clean everything accept a top or tops. I was planning on hanging here at the library to fast-charge my phone, but it’s taken two hours to get it charged only 30% more, so fast charging isn’t evidently fast enough with the libraries sockets.

Something else I did yesterday was decide to start smoking a pipe as compensation for not buying any drugs this week because I’m sick of the motivation-sapping effect of cannabis, but strictly for home use since I’d look like an absolute wanker walking around with a tobacco pipe in public.

Good choice too, since that pipe tobacco is way, way stronger than the normal cigarette tobacco I always buy and one packed pipe makes me nauseous if I inhale it like a normal smoke..

Having said that, the pipe tobacco itself smells and tastes absolutely beautiful and is another step-up in quality entirely from even the high-quality English Old Holborn I buy, and flavoured with real bourbon, vanilla bean, molasses and fruit and I’ve got so much tobacco this week yeah that’s awesome.

There’s a bit of a trick to smoking a pipe though because if you suck your guts out and smoke the bowl too quickly you end up with liquid gurgling in the pipe and a burnt tongue with a prickly sensation that google informs me is known as ‘tongue bite’, but one full bowl lasts half an hour and stays lit for 5 minutes at a time, if you smoke it correctly.

Saturday, 22nd June 2019

Well, I had planned to be at the nursery stall in town today and help out for the day since it’s winter magic and the main street is packed – and I mean crammed – with people, but when I got there half an hour ago there’s a line leading from the Bunnings stall right out the carpark and into the street itself.

Walking past that, I see the nursery stall with only a half dozen customers and three volunteers – more than enough to handle the smattering of shoppers who hadn’t already filled their gardening requirements at the Bunnings stall just meters away.

Worse yet, the three volunteers who were there were the least interesting people from the nursery: Francis, who was just sitting at the back on her fat arse way more focused on the jumbo meat pie she had her whole face buried in to even notice any customers; the old woman who does the accounting in the office at the nursery, who spends her entire day with her face pressed to the office computer screen squinting and never talks to anyone about anything but bugs in MYOB; and some other old woman with grey hair I don’t even know.

No Verity, no Tanya, no Julie and none of the doods who volunteer: none of the social people at the stall at all and no need for a fourth hand whatsoever.

There was my contribution before I left: moving the sign from the ground where even I couldn’t find it, to somewhere people could actually see it.

I hung around a whopping 10 minutes before telling them I’m going, so I’ve come to the library to charge my phone instead and see if Brian appears – it’s been months since I’ve caught-up with Old-Brian so I’ll wait here a while then fuck off back home when I’m done.

BRIAN! Brian is here!! ..sneaks up on you like a old three-legged dog he’s so quiet πŸ™‚

Finally someone with a brain in their head to talk to πŸ€—

Sunday, 23rd June 2019

I was going to update last night, but ended-up listening to podcasts then catching a few shows up on iview, before falling asleep.

Overall, locals are right to say you’re not missing much passing on the town’s winter magic festivities: the town was so full of people, just walking up the main street felt like being a single red blood cell in a vein full blood cells – that’s how overpopulated it was – and of course everything is about separating tourists from their money: there’s no actual significance attached to the fact it’s the winter solstice, but an entirely commercial venture to sell shit to people they don’t need.

I’ll update on the afternoon with Brian when I’ve woken up anyway.

And this is how we keep clean in lieu of a shower each day. By ‘we’ I mean me, and by clean I mean the parts that really need to be washed to stay smelling good.

It’s certainly a step up from the disabled toilets at Coles, and .. hang on the water is boiling..

Yeah I find that as long as I keep a supply of clean underwear and shirts washed and ready to go, I can keep wearing the same outer laters for days without any smell going on at all: bear in mind I’m at a nursery trimming plants and wiping dirt all over myself most of the week and nobody else there dresses to impress, so a sink full of hot soapy water is all you really need for that.

1:38 PM

I’ve started cleaning the site up too because – though it’s a bit soon to be introducing a Woman #9 – I’ve got my focus pinned to a fresh new potential canditate: the chemistry seems there, she’s intelligent enough to dart conversation back and forth and uncanily seems to time her warmest, cutest laughs with lines I’ve intended to elicit laughter – she’s right on the dot every joke I drop.

She’s also blonde too which is out of the norm for me: it’s been what, 15 years since I met an attractive blonde I didn’t find too barbie-doll, generic and lacking in both appearance AND personality for me to have any inclination to engage – let alone bother to zero-in on.

Anyhoo, can’t have rants and nasty shit throughout the site so I’m vacumning-up the shit that makes me look bad so I can give her the site since she’s evidently interested enough to ask me apparently endless questions about my homeless period, the time I spent in the valley and all manner of other things πŸ™‚

This section will be deleted too of course, before I scribble the sites address and give it to her – don’t want to give it all away on day one, now do I? πŸ˜‰

Wednesday, 26th June 2019

Morning tea or whatever: I’ve been watching that sucker ripen-up for weeks now too.

Thursday, 27th June 2019

Right: my ideal woman.. I was going to do this days ago but got distracted, then forgot, and remembered – one of the quirks of drug-induced short-term memory loss πŸ™‚

I’ll have to think about this because while there are some elements that have to be met, some are optional and the tighter the criteria the more restricted the profile becomes and now we know the concept of soulmates is bullshit we’re not looking for that, but happily-ever-after with someone based on the opposite of what hasn’t worked in the past.

Single mothers are out.

Time and again I’ve had to tolerate being second place to other people’s kids which seems alright when you’re included as part of the family, but it’s never really your family if they’re not your kids – just the leftovers of a dick that came before you.

I’ve also seen – time and again – that once a woman becomes a mother all she cares about is what she’s squeazed out her uterus: that DRIVE to partner with a man and play-out the hormone-charged cat and mouse game that landed her pregnant to begin with is gone, because she’s already seen that through to it’s conclusion with someone else and like an old plant gone to seed women direct every sliver of energy into rearing those seeds and seem to lose the omni-potent biological urge to find and engage a man in any real way: she can pretend to care, but is very easy to see that worn-out listlessness and any interest a woman had for a sexually-based relationship before some other man turns her into a mum-thing is gone – once a woman has been changed into mother, the sexually motivated female that existed before the mum-thing dies and becomes a thing of the past, never to return again until the child is suckled to adulthood by which time she’s an old woman: completely grey, sagging, wrinkled and hairier than the man who got her pregnant to begin with.

The worst possible deal for any man who hasn’t reproduced and still has his focus set on actually hunting down a woman to fuck, because a woman with children has already been hunted, already allowed herself to be caught, fucked and sent to seed: she is now at the last stage of her cycle of life, while you’re still in the middle of yours – doesn’t matter what age either of you might be, the cycle of life remains the same: childhood, sexually driven adult, parenthood and death.

Most importantly, I want a woman who hasn’t had kids because I want a woman whose existence revolves around us and our relationship: not a mum-thing whose every waking moment is focused on a kid some other man shoved in her.

Harsh way of saying it but it’s not directed at any one particular ex or woman I know – it’s every woman I’ve known for the past 20 years and it is what it is: women want kids and go out of their way to get them any way they can with anyone they can and this is the result – mismatched humans who choose to ignore the red flags of what they already know are failing sham marriages and choose to selfishly create miniature versions of themselves while they’re there anyway, purely out of ego.

Not even their own mothers warn them there’ll be nothing left for any other man who comes along after they’ve had their ill-conceived kids to ill-conceived marriages and you’d really think they would, but then most womens mothers selfishly want grandkids of their own, so the impending death of their daughters sexuality after childbirth is something they’d understandably keep to themselves..

Anyway – no more mothers: condition number one and the only circumstantial element of my criteria.

I’ll iron out the bad grammer in a moment and smooth of the pointy edges because this isn’t an emotionally caustic monologue, just the first of my criteria for an ideal woman – there’s no angry rant going on here and – vaguely pondering the list of conditions at the nursery today I’ve realized the shorter the list actually is, the simplier it will be to memorize and ergo, easier to apply to any woman I bump into on the spot – eliminating “undesirables”, which isn’t a squeaky-nice way of wording it but ahh, accurate.

Coffee first, then podcasts – god I fuckin’ love podcasts now: narrated stories in your ears that run 1-2 hours per episode and there are THOUSANDS of them, all free, all using almost no battery and very little data and – set to autoplay – provide hours of amusement.

They’re awesome.

There’s a daddy-long-legs sitting to the right of my keyboard.. I’ll move him to the curtain so I don’t inadvertantly kill the sucker..

Right, food happened as well as coffee and repeated eye washing to remove some shit that’s been pissing me off for hours now and I think it’s out now .. mm

I’ve just thought of something completely unrelated to my profile of the perfectly acceptable woman: the electricity.

So we’re clear, I still don’t care about the power being disconnected – I just don’t.

I should, but given the various and extended periods of time over the preceeding few years where I’ve had no fixed address – let alone power points – I just don’t see it as a big deal. Hang on…

Okay my eye is cleared of debris and fine again, I think..

Moody, I know πŸ™‚

So I am going into town to get one of the local charities to cough-up the money to get my electricity re-connected tomorrow, but not because I care: everyone I’ve mentioned the power being cut to has nagged me to the point I’m only doing it to shut them up, the women at the nursery, the staff at WISE employment, it’s like daily someone’s insisting I should do something about that and one of the chicks at WISE even did the full-on sympathetic frowny face about how cold I must be without a heater when none of them seem to understand how much more resistent to minor issues like that I actually am.

I told her I have plenty of layers of winter-specific clothes, and given I spent last winter outside; in the wind; in a sleeping bag; on solid concrete and was warm enough to sleep fine all but one or two nights that it’s really not that bigger deal now I’m inside a two bedroom solid double-brick unit, but still she seemed genuinely saddened by my lack of utilities, how cold I must be and that I need to keep warm..

Anne has gone on about it for the three consecutive days while I’ve been in there waiting for the bus to the nursery, and Verity informed me today there’s several local places that’ll pay at least enough off the bill to have it reconnected so it’s at the point I’m going into town to see ne of these charities JUST to stop people asking me whether I’ve sorted it.

Tanya – manager at the nursery – is the only person so far with the common sense to understand that (a) I’m not cold with all the layers I’ve got (b) the bill wasn’t paid because I haven’t had the money to feed myself let alone sacrifice $50 worth of food or a packet of tobacco to barely make a dent in the electricity bill, (c) I’m happy it’s disconnected, because it’s no longer running-up the bill and most importantly (d) until I’ve got a job I’m not going to be able to pay the fucker anyhow so there’s no point worrying about it right now: not until I’ve got the income to sort it out.

Annoys me that nobody seems to possess the logic to understand I’m better off without power right now and I’m genuinely pleased it’s been cut off because I can’t me charged for utilities that aren’t being provided.

So that’s tomorrows day gone, sitting around waiting to see some arseholes who’ll only partially pay the bill thinking they’re doing me some big favour when all that’ll do is start the meter clicking-over again when I don’t want the cunt back on anyway.

Anyway, the criteria..

And you can scoff like a tiny-minded fool all you like – whoever you are – about my having no utilities while still drawing up a checklist of what I want in a woman: my current power bill is just a situational hiccup to me; locating the woman I’ll spend my life investing love in is so much more important than any petty financial issues, that trying to draw a link between the two demonstrates an embarrasing lack of depth and vision.

Finding the person you spend the rest of your life with is the most significant thing any sane human-being will ever do, circumstantial shit like bills and finances are trivialities and people who think otherwise are aberrations of nature who’ve allowed society to fuck them in the head.

My eye is annoying me again mm.. don’t know what it is but it’s not wanting to get out of there.. hope to fuck it’s not that shard of jade still in here from weeks ago – my right eye looks a fuckin’ mess it’s so bloodshot.

Nope, fuckit my eye’s too distracting: I’ll listen to my podcasts and rest my eye – sculpt my virtual dream-bitch later.

Friday, 28th June 2019

I did not bother going into town today as it turned out, because I woke with a splitting headache and my eyelid crusted-up with dried whatever.

Not like I wanted to anyway, but I’d rather not have got out of bed with actual pain that prevented me going and I still don’t know whether the eye’s cleared overnight or not, though there’s no discernable irritation today and I’ve washed the fucker out so it’s .. no it’s still looking bloodshot.


By the way, Google’s podcast player is better than the others – hands down: like other apps they’ve released, Google is so HUGE they can afford to offer apps that are truly free, slick as a wet fish and without any ads because they’re just that big they don’t need to charge for apps since they make their money elsewhere.

The second aspect of the criteria: personality.

I’ve become distracted by a podcast series about the rise and fall of Silk Road – the elicit drug website, not the historic trade route – and now The Black Widow: the pretty sneaky bitch who poisoned men to death, not the spider πŸ˜‰

I’ve broken the criteria up into three top-level categories though, to keep it compact: personality, physical and valueset, which I will unpack in the next few days because each contains multi-faceted components really, that can be expanded at length.

Circumstances can be completely separate since they’re fluid and change, while the other three are pretty much fixed by adulthood in most people.


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