A life less ordinary

#1
I've already got a journal of sorts up on the web, but it's hard keeping it up to date coz I'm not the sort to post my intimate desires, fears and sexual fantasies under my own name. You can read about my sexual fantasies later on (nothing too kooky, I promise ;)

I hail from Melbourne in Oz. In case you're wondering why I picked what looks like a Chicago journal to host on, I surfed in on the Porno Clerk Chick Diaries (as I have termed them) and then stumbled in on Soap on a Rope. Both are extraordinary pieces of writing and this is fine a place as any.

Basically this will be a place where I can vent. Writing things down and venting is extremeley therapeutic for one's soul. And my soul needs venting.
 
#3
Looking forward

I'll be in Perth early next year. I've never been there before so I'm looking forward to it. The plan is to do the south west coast swing, uppercutting towards Kalgoorlie and back to Perth.
 
#4
Work

I have a love-hate relationship with my work. Some days, like today, when I get alot done, are really good. But 90% of the time I'm perpetuating the stereotypes of an academic paper-pusher.

A guy at work is on drugs. Heavy medication to narrow his mood shifts and decrease his anti-socialism. You'd pass him in the corridor, say hi, and he wouldn't even reply. It completely freaked me out when I first started and took a long time before I understood what he was about. I thought *I* was doing something wrong.

Work has the most fantastic tool shop that I've seen. The bloke responsible for keeping it clean and navigable is a complete slob who missed the day hygiene was discussed at school. He has no sense of personal organisation whatsoever and has to be chased up at least 10 times before he'll do something.

Over the years a screwdriver here and shifter there from work have found their way into my bag and into my toolbox. Our department will be transferring to a new building soon, and naturally a great deal many things might go missing during the move.
 
#5
Just another day

I got nailed with the flu a week back and I'm still shrugging it off. It's fucking annoying more than anything else. There was a Legionnaire's disease scare at work this week, a bloke went down with the disease and is a customer at the local hospital. I was petrified I'd come down with it as well, but I'm improving every day so I reckon it's not Legionnaires.

Good news. The boss approved the Perth trip. Work will pay for the conference. They will pay half the airfare coz I'm spending more time on holiday than on conference. The glass is half full, not half empty.

I've been thinking about joining a singles club. It's either that or spend quality time going through the personals section of the local rag. And the local rag scares me more than the thought of fucking Maggie Thatcher.
 
#6
Hotter than a 100 suns

Today was the first really hot day since summer. I made the
mistake of thinking today would be a good day to go swimming
again. The pool was packed, even at 8pm. I swam 300m
before giving up and leaving early.

I love swimming. Immersing myself in cool water and gliding
through the pool is a terriifc stress release. I work on my
breathing, trying to regulate one breath with four strokes.
It's bloody hard, I can only swim 100m then rest for about 5
minutes before starting again.

Your arms and shoulders pick up a little buff after swimming
regularly for a few months. I was swimming 3 times a week
for about 2 months and already my shoulders and biceps
perked up a little. The aim is to reverse the clock and
look like those ridiculous 16 year old schoolboys with the
6pax, weightlifters' shoulders and ripped triceps. And
don't get me started on the girls either.

It is bad enough getting comprehensively thrashed in the
pool by the 14 yo schoolgirls. They don't have to show off
their shoulders and make me feel totally inadequate as well.

Since I have been spending alot of time obsessing about body
images, Let me take you through my body:

Feet - perfectly normal as far I can tell. Both have the
required 5 toes.

Calfs - can't do anything with them. I've spent ages on the
calf raise in the gym but it did nothing. Some blokes have
ripped calves and others don't and I'm in the other's
category. Calf is probably a bit longer than normal, which
might explain why it's difficult to bulk up.

Thighs - now we're talking! All those reps with the leg
press and leg extension really paid off. I was boxing
training in shorts one day in front of a wall-to-wall
mirror. I remember being struck dead looking at my thighs.
Imagine a shoebox under your skin and you have a pretty good
idea of what my thighs look like. BIG.

Meat and Two Veg - Mr. Acorn, well met. I won't even
ridicule myself with Mr. Acorn's vital statistics. Mr.
Angry is vastly more respectable and can reach an average
13cms when at full stand. Mr. Angry's flaming red head is
due to circumcision.

I have 2 balls which come in a bag. I think that's right..

Stomach - for storing alcohol and food. Should be ripped
and 6packed but is rounded and carries a spare tyre.
Constantly at odds with the brain.

Tits - Would measure somewhere in the low A cup range.
Don't know if it's natural bulk in the chest or rather
droopiness caused by a) older age and b) overweightness.
Hope not.

Shoulders - Eminently respectable, broad and strong.

Arms - skinny and lightly tanned/freckled w/ golden hairs.
Chicks dig the arms.

Neck - too long.

Head - rounded, pleasant face is giving way to chubbiness,
particulaly in the cheeks. Very small mouth struggles to
contain large teeth. Abused nose looks out of place. Eyes
are round and blue and frequently red-eyed. Hair is dark
red and going quickly.
 
#7
Fear of the unknown

Where I live, people fear fire.

The fire this time might be the worst ever. A 7 year drought and temperature gauges worryingly rocketing upwards at this early time of year doesn't bode well for the summer. And we're still 3 weeks away from the first official day of summer down under.

Bushfires are already threatening Sydney, that megaopolis surrounded by the ocean and 3 National Parks - Ku-ring-gai, Wollemi and the Blue Mountains. As Melbourne expands into bushland, the outer suburbs must face the fear of the unknown. This is what happened 20 years ago when the outer suburbs were ringed with flames on that dreadful day, Ash Wednesday. 70 or so people lost their lives in the inferno.

The suburbs keep pushing into the bush and the bush strikes back. If there is one thing all Australians fear, it is the dreaded north-wester. A high air-pressure system follows the roaring 40's trade winds from west to east across the continent. Downunder, high air-pressure systems revolve anti-clockwise. For the layman, that means the wind starts off cool over the bight and the south of the country. Then it goes up the east coast, taking in NSW and Queensland. The critical part comes when the wind goes over the outback in the Territory, Western and South Australia and is cooked to an incredible high and picks up devastating speed and falls like a thunderclap pretty much where it began. And the lightning which announces the thunder is the spark which starts the blaze.

The question is not really "will we have fires" but "how bad will the fires be?"
 
#8
The greatest game

have played football for most of my life. The endearing trait of the game is it's simplicity and complexity. It is easy to play and extraordinarily difficult to master.

Compared to other sports which have a steep learning curve, notably golf and tennis, anyone can kick a football and play at their own level. And that's why it's the most popular game in the world.

The ultimate in football is dribbling. The best feeling in the world is after you go mano a mano and beat him by dribbling him. Your skill was better than his. Your confidence was greater than his. Your arrogance was unsurpassed.

If anything, I don't dribble enough. I'm wary of been called a show pony so I always endeavour to move the ball forward as quick as possible.

Which is why I love the wing. They can only attack you from 3 directions on the wing. Your POV is 180o so you can always see the upcoming danger. My best dribbles usually start off inside my half on the wing, and once I beat the opposite number I'm flying and nobody can stop me but myself (which happens frequently but that's another story).
 
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