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DesDownunder

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Blog Entries posted by DesDownunder

  1. DesDownunder
    Following my blog post of 10th March 2014
    Sweet, yeah, right.
    I've never seen such aggression in a household cat.
    I can only think that he was taken from his mother too soon. (I had a boyfriend that was taken from his mother too soon, when I was 18, but his problem was that he didn't know that my boyfriends don't entertain the local harlots (female) in the woodshed.)
    Psycho the cat continued on his journey of training for the remake of the Alfred Hitchcock movie of the same name, slashing at our ankles. He even rushed into the shower with fangs and claws striking out at our ankles and lower extremities. He was well named.
    Then he stopped eating. I consulted the vet, again. This time we were well prepared and the vet decided to wear leather gloves and wrapped Psycho in a heavy blanket...a feat in itself.
    After an examination the vet said that he must start drinking some water or he wouldn't survive the weekend. He just snarled and hissed and tried to bite us. She told the cat that he was very lucky as most people wouldn't put up with his tantrums.
    I was horrified at her suggestion that we would abandon him or worse, have him put down. I didn't even try to put down the old boyfriend when he was running rampant in the woodshed. After disappearing for the weekend and leaving us very distraught and worried he (the cat, not the old boyfriend) suddenly reappeared on Monday looking very healthy and smoothed against our legs.
    Anyway, the vet said we should try a product called Feliway which released cat pheromones into the room and might serve to calm him down. Three months later and I'm happy to report that Feliway worked, to a degree. He now sleeps on the bed with us. He begrudgingly will let us give him a cuddle, but in the middle of his very loud purring he will still snap at us and then go back to purring. We finally worked out that his snapping at our ankles is his way to let us know that he wants to be fed.
    We bought him a tree house which he loved until winter arrived and he discovered that the bed was a better choice for keeping warm; a fact that my de facto and I had previously discovered some years ago.
    We've stopped using the Feliway and so far so good. Feliway isn't a complete cure but we think it has helped.
    If I knew where that old boyfriend lived I'd send him a bottle.

    Psycho the cat, contemplating his next attack.
  4. DesDownunder
    I found a site that I am worried about called When I Came Out.
    This site is a place inviting people to submit their story, in five sentences or less, which describes their coming out.
    Sounds good? Don't get excited. The site conditions state that they reserve the right to refuse posting a story. Okay that's fair enough.
    However they also state they will edit the story for length or grammar. It's only five sentences, how short do they want it to be?
    What really annoys me is that they claim that the stories will become their property. DAMN that, it's the story of MY coming out and if anyone is going to gain from its publication, it will be me, not them. So I am posting my five sentences in my blog, here at AwesomeDude:
    My Coming Out © 2012 by Desmond Rutherford
    When I came out, it 1960, I was 16, and the only people I came out to were my sexual partners. You see, homosexual acts were a criminal offence subject to the often imposed penalty of 2 years hard labour. We lived under threat of blackmail and discrimination in housing, and employment. I lived as two people, one for my sexuality, and one as whoever I needed to be in order to survive. Decriminalised here, in Adelaide in 1973, it still took us a lot of protesting until, in the 1980s, we were protected enough by anti-discrimination laws to come out publicly, and now there are people who (needlessly) fear, homosexuality will be made compulsory, as we head towards recognising freedom of sexual expression for everyone.
  5. DesDownunder

    Time and Sex

    By DesDownunder,

    How long does it take to achieve orgasm? This was discussed at Joe My God, and I thought I should share my answer with you here in my blog.
    Under 25: From slack to spit in 60 seconds.
    After 40: Use it or lose it. Make sure you have at least 3 orgasms a week. (with or without a partner.) If you do this then you should be able to have an orgasm once or twice a week after 60. Chinese herbs can assist the elderly and are safer than Viagra in my opinion. (You don't need them when you are younger.)
    However at any age, 17 -30 minutes for the entire act (including foreplay) was considered the norm around 1970. Of course that doesn't include emergency sex in tea rooms, cottages, or a quick flip in the park, where the act was finished much faster than the investigation of making sure the other person actually wanted to attempt a world record for having a climax.
    Much of the myth of the male orgasm being only possible once or twice a day is related to puritan attitudes and the imposition of guilt about pleasure.
    Why religions are obsessed with restricting sex is an obscenity in itself and is a crime against individual freedom.
    After orgasm number one, anal penetration can provide the stimulation for orgasm number 2, in less than a minute or two. Of course it is more fun to wait and engage in more fore-play, or if you want to be more accurate, "in-between-play." The important thing is to listen to your body if it wants to rest then wait, but don't fall for the restrictions placed on us that once, is all that is possible. There is nothing "sinful" about having an orgasm or three, (or more.) Even so, you don't need to do it just because you can, unless you want to. Sometimes saving it is pleasurable too.
    Of course people differ, both in capacity as well as volume, but the greatest aphrodisiac is "wanting it."
    As for time, well, timing a simultaneous orgasm is more exciting and fulfilling than measuring the time it all takes with a stop-watch.
    A straight friend who bemoaned the fact the he and his wife never wanted sex at the same time, once had a moment of enlightenment when he commented, "Oh wow, I get it, two men do it when they both want it, and that is all the time."
    How long it takes varies from day to day, partner to partner, place to place and of course the urgency of the moment...and then there is the romance of it all to consider, which can use time to achieve new levels of extended, heightened experience, but that is called being in love and knows no boundaries but being with the one you love, and that is when time no longer exists as we play among the stars with each other.
  6. DesDownunder
    What can you do when you lose your data on your computer? Here is an answer to such a disaster which embarrassingly, befell me recently.
    I was setting up a new computer for my video store when I was overtaken by frustration, fatigue and fear that I would never finish the task.
    So to liven things up, what other excuse could I possibly have, I went to my own computer opened the windows disk manager and deleted what I thought was a left over partition from when I had the Acronis backup software on the system. I didn't like the software so I had uninstalled it. (Oh the irony of it all). What I didn't know was, that the Acronis' dedicated partition had then became part of the partition alongside it, so when I deleted it I deleted all my data as well. All my stories, unfinished manuscripts, essays, tax records, emails, etc., gone~ lost in the bottomless pit of deletion without a warning or confirmation from Windows XP. Thank you very much.
    Slowly the situation dawned on my sentience. To say I felt devastated, even suicidal at the loss of my tax records, not to mention my stories, is to grossly underestimate the trauma I felt washing over me with a trembling uncertainty of real-time terror.
    Not since my first romance broke up had I felt such destabilizing queasiness in the pit of my stomach. I sat looking at the remains of my computer, my lifeline to my ego.
    Fortunately the windows XP operating system was intact being on its own partition. I could even surf the web, though I had none of my bookmarks.
    I rang my computer guru friend who told me he would call in a few hours as he might have a program which could help. I Googled the web for undelete programs. So many choices. So many opportunities to make things worse.
    Shattered, I went to bed. It was 4am and I didn't trust myself to make sensible decisions at that hour, and I knew I had to be careful; mustn't do anything that could overwrite the files that hopefully were still on the drive.
    The following day, having found that it wasn't all a bad dream, I continued looking for undelete programs and after much thought and no sign of the computer guru friend, I decided on a program called Find and Mount, mainly because its name reminded me of my first boyfriend.
    I installed the program and it did indeed find the deleted partition, mounted it, and displayed the results as a read only drive in Windows Explorer. I copied the files to another hard drive I luckily had on hand, and then reformatted the missing partition and copied the files back again. Total restoration of 100gig of data was achieved in just a couple of hours. I cancelled the computer guru, who was happy not to have to come (a first for him) as he had to attend so many idiots that day.
    It would have taken longer to copy the files and folders as the free version of the software only transfers at 500 KB/second, so I paid the not unreasonable $US 43.95 to purchase Partition Find and Mount, which then transferred as fast as the system would allow. To say I was pleased is an understatement. I haven't been so ecstatic since the first boyfriend and I found each other and explored various mounting partitions, er I mean positions, and we didn't even display the results in any windows.
    I need hardly add that I am not associated with the Partition Find and Mount Company except as a happy customer.
    I was also happy with the first boyfriend and he didn't charge, but he decided it was necessary to help as many people as he could find and mount.
    Luckily I can't delete the fond memories I have of him.
    Partition Find and Mount is a very cool program that lets you safely try it out, even use it, if you don't mind the slower speed.
    Highly recommended, like the first boyfriend.
    PS (As for all you people who think I should do a backup, I did that too with the first boyfriend.)
  7. DesDownunder
    I make no apology for the following links, but I will warn you, many of the images are disturbing.
    For those who wish to get the full effect of my New Year message, please click on the underlined links as you read them, watch the video link in its entirety, and then return to this page to continue the journey.(21 minutes)
    Merry, merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. (more than what you think).
    Loving is not a problem because we are love, all we have to do is let our love exist, to let it be.
    Our time is short and all we see is the time in which we live,
    Modified by what we are told to believe,
    But what if we discovered life was more,
    Than shopping at the store,
    That we live by more than what others have in store for us,
    That living is not to have, but is being in love, not lust,
    Giving us the hope that defeats strife,
    As living is the only meaning of life,
    And Love is the only sane reason for its existence.
    The need to love is all you need to be able to love.
    Thus all reality is already present in every hope and dream you can imagine.
    So go to work and everyday without fear,
    Help create a Happy New Year all year, every year.
    So did you expect something else from a libertine, agnostic, peacenik, hippie orangutan?
    HAPPY NEW YEAR to all
  8. DesDownunder
    It's good news.
    Centrelink, the government agency that handles Aussie welfare rang me today and told me that my claim for the age pension has been granted.
    A very nice sympathetic woman told me that I would enjoy a full pension rate until July 1st when my "marriage like" relationship would be recognised and they would then pay me less. (How nice.)
    The lovely lady inspired me with confidence in the system as she informed me that my special senior's card would be posted soon and I would be able to claim concession rates on the phone bill, electricity, driver's licence, water and council rates, etc.
    She then went on to tell me that the government hoped I wouldn't live too long as my pension payment was a drain on the public purse.
    However they would prefer I didn't die just yet as when I do, they will pay my "marriage like" partner a lump sum to help with funeral costs, and as it is reasonable amount, they don't want to have pay it at present as they are running a bit short of funds.
    On the other hand if I would like to do some volunteer work in helping young people become skilled in my line of work, they would be happy to accommodate that. I told her I could show them how to keep being able to have orgasms after 40, but she said there were somethings people had to learn to do for themselves. That's what I meant, I told her, but she said she was referring to my job.
    I explained that my job was now done by computers and that nobody was interested in doing the job properly, she told me I shouldn't let that stop me from having a fruitful relationship with younger people in the community. hmmm.
    I resisted the temptation to ask her if that included showing guys how to use a condom. She did tell me her brother was gay and that was why she was working in the "same-sex marriage like" division of Centrelink. Again I resisted temptation by not asking for her brother's phone number of if he was a top or a bottom.
    She told me if I became ill, that I could go straight to hospital and receive free treatment as soon as the 3 year backlog of patients was cleared up. I had a vision of them sweeping cadavers out of the front gates into the street for collection on Tuesdays. In any case she assured me if it was something serious and I was at death's door, they would have a doctor pull me through as soon as possible.
    She told me too, that there was a home service for meals if I became unable to cook for myself. I told her my grandmother had that service just before she died. That made her laugh out loud, and she replied that the food was better now, even if she would rather starve than eat it.
    Before she ended the phone call she advised me that someone would ring to check up on me, if I lived too long, to see how I was going and if there was anything they could do to help me...presumably to drop dead sooner, rather than later.
    Happily she told me that the new law about people not receiving the age pension until they reached 67 would not apply to me as I was already on the scrap heap.
    Anyway I guess I am now a fully fledged member of that group known as cantankerous, grumpy, dirty old men.
    Perhaps I could get a job as Santa, next Christmas. Ho ho ho.
  9. DesDownunder
    SO what do you do when you have an embarrassing, cute idea for a story and you just know it is going to be full of clich?s, and breaks a whole pile of rules about writing? Why of course, you go ahead and write it.
    So without further ado, I announce my latest short story Abducted For a Reason for your reading pleasure right here on AwesomeDude.
    Hope you enjoy it.
  10. DesDownunder
    Slumdog Millionaire has won the Best Picture Oscar and I had to walk out after 20 minutes.
    Why?
    Why did it win, or why did I walk out?
    I can't begin to guess why it won except to reward new wave filming for by-passing tried and proven techniques of movie making.
    Why did I leave the screening?
    Because the handheld camera and sloppy filming interfered with my being able to relate to the image.
    The smart-ass cinematography and editing got in the way of the story for me. And when the hand-held camera did stop moving, the supposedly 'interesting' but really only perfunctory images were framed at an angle that made me feel like I should turn 122 degrees clockwise or anti-clockwise in order to comprehend what I was suppose to be looking at.
    My natural view of the world does not tend be obtuse or at an obtuse angle, and I detest having such an obtuse view being imposed on my visual perception.
    To me it would be like trying to read a story with the words all jumbled in a way that destroyed the message of the sentence.
    Imagine the words all at odd angles, scrolling across the page and then suddenly scrolling up or down the page. There are reasons why the early directors and cinematographers spent so much time and effort developing conventions in the medium to communicate to audiences without the medium getting in the way of the story.
    All the time spent, while I was occupied trying to ascertain what the hell I was looking at, slowly ate away at my desire to continue watching.
    I was feeling a headache coming on, with a touch of dizziness, any longer and I would have suffered vertigo and nausea.
    So I left. Reluctantly.
    I say reluctantly, because I really wanted to see and understand what I thought would be an interesting movie. I have seen many Indian movies and know they can do better than this.
    Sadly, I am not able to cope with its form.
    Does anyone else have this problem with these kinds of modern filming techniques?
    I'd be particularly interested to know if any younger people can relate to my experience, but I already have the feeling I have suddenly got old, if not a bit cranky.
  11. DesDownunder
    The Doctor
    So, I haven't been making many comments in this here Blogging thingy, mainly because of all the issues we had organising our finances and preparing for our dementia which will hopefully be delayed by all the supplements and vitamins I take.
    I showed the doctor all my pills and powders, and gave him the print outs of all the websites that proclaim longevity if you take this and don't eat that. He perused the documents with what I suspect was related to Pecman's speed reading faculty.
    The doctor looked up and told me that he had no idea so much research was being done on alternative treatment to keep people alive. His experience was confined to merely getting his patients in contact with big pharma which he doesn't trust much more than I do, but sometimes pharmaceuticals offer the best answer to maintaining a quality of life when quantity of life is teetering on being compromised.
    I told the doctor that if you didn't take the medicine you die in two weeks, but if you did take the medicine you would die in a fortnight. He grinned and said I sounded like his old med school professor.
    I was relieved to know that all my test results were in normal range and I could expect to survive somewhat longer than my hypochondria predicted.
    The Taxi Drivers
    I had to travel to and from the doctor in a taxi because the beloved one is using the car to go work. The taxi driver going to the doctor was a serious Middle Eastern gentleman. It seems like the Muslim invasion in Australia is starting with taking over our taxi fleets.
    The taxi driver on the way home was, I suspect, of Mediterranean origin. He was friendly and courteous.
    When we pulled up at my house he announced that he was going home to his family as he had had enough for the day.
    I told him I was going to make some coffee and go on the Internet.
    He asked, "Does your wife complain?"
    "I don't have a wife," I replied.
    "What about a girlfriend?" he inquired.
    "I don't have a girlfriend...I have a boyfriend."
    He eyes widened and he turned in his seat to look at me.
    O, this is interesting, I thought to myself.
    He stuttered and finally managed to say, "Oh so you are one of th..er, one that comes from that side."
    Then he quickly followed with, "Do you enjoy that? Does your boyfriend?"
    "Well, we've been doing it for over 40 years, so I guess we enjoy it."
    "Forty years, together?"
    "Yes," I said. (Did he think we did it in separate rooms?)
    He was getting excited as he told me that he and his wife were married for 40 years. He then held up his closed fist and I knew that Harvey Milk was right, you just have to let people know who you are and they will bump fists with you, which we did, celebrating our common pursuit of marital happiness. He smiled as I exited the cab and then he drove away.
    I wondered if I would have told the first taxi driver...somehow I don't think so, but then again, the opportunity never arose.
  13. DesDownunder
    So Australia has an election today (Saturday 21st August 2010) and our senate has 42 candidates.
    Our electoral system is a preferential system, so if no candidate gets 50% the vote is allocated to the next person in line on your ballot paper, or something like that. (Hey, I'm Australian and it's our patriotic duty to be apathetic.
    So I have spent all night looking up the policies of each main group of candidates and just to make sure everyone knows I am a left wing anarchist with progressive libertarian tendencies and don't like religion in my politics, I have decided to vote as follows:
    1. The Australian Sex Party.
    2. The Secular Party of Australia
    3. The Socialist Alliance
    4. The Greens.
    The other candidates won't get a shoe-in after that, but just to make sure, I have arranged all the homophobic and Christian influenced parties at the very bottom of my list, with the other right wingnut candidates.
    Of course, most probably tomorrow will bring either a Labor (=US Democrats) or a Liberal (=US Republicans) government, but as both appear to me to beholden to some religious influence and neither will have a thing to do with gay marriage, I am not too worried that my vote is wasted on encouraging the intelligent side of the force.
    If the Borg had put up a candidate we might have been better off by voting them into power, at least they "add the biological and technological distinctiveness of other species to their own" in pursuit of perfection. (-Wiki). I'm sure the Borg would appreciate a fabulously perfect gay techno party or two.
    As it is we will have to tolerate being tortured by the new Inquisition, like the rest of the planet.
    I am so looking forward to being put to the question -not!
    Next election I think I will start an Australian Cynics Party, if I haven't been burned at the stake.
  14. DesDownunder

    Blackout.

    By DesDownunder,

    So we had a storm tonight. It blew over a tree somewhere, and rain was released in a deluge that lasted long enough to dump nearly an inch of water. Lightning lit the sky somewhere over the Antarctic and evidently struck havoc on the power lines to my neighbourhood -right as I was making a post about Windows 7. The computer died and the lights went out. The room was black, cold and very, very dark.
    I couldn't see a thing. I dismissed the idea I had died in a hurry. Perhaps I should rephrase that. I dismissed in a hurry, the idea that I had died.
    Anyway I blindly felt my way around the house till I found the emergency flash-light. Well something had died, the battery. I shook the flash-light and it came to life, sort of, with a weak beam that enabled me to see my way to the phone. The phone had died too. No wait a minute, it was the wireless phone I had picked up, and I realised that it needed mains power to operate. It's handy having been an electrician, we know about these things.
    Stealthily I made my way across the kitchen into the sun room. Sun-room? You have to be joking, it was pitch black outside , the sun light had died hours ago.
    And the overcast skies were too busy crying rain upon the earth. The sun room was as dark as a Mayan tomb in 2012. I pulled back the curtain and peered outside, but all I could see were black silhouettes of trees against a dark grey sky. No lights in the house next door, no street lights, no sign of Man's conquest of the night, nothing.
    What dark and evil place is this planet in its night, without even a star for a friend.
    It was as if I was the last man on Earth. Hurriedly I scampered across the debris of the modern demolition that represented my attempt at interior design. I tried the flash-light again and a weak beam, a little stronger than before searched the room looking for the hard-wired phone, the one I bought at a sale for $5. I found it under a newspaper that was trying to imitate a shroud.
    I lifted the phone and found the dial tone working. I pushed buttons until it rang a number and then I heard the voice of my darling. Quickly I warned him of the impending doom, that 2012 had arrived early, that life as we knew it was over. "What?" he asked. He never takes me seriously unless we are ...well never mind about that, this is not one of those episodes, it has a different climax.
    I warned him that the power was gone and we would have to cuddle to keep warm when he arrived home. "What?" he asked again as if we had never done anything like that during the time we lived in the house where we could actually see each other. "Just drive home carefully," I told him, "the lights are out."
    "er...er," he stammered somewhat quizzically. "The street lights are out, and our power has died," I explained. "Can you bring the spare flash-light home with you please?"
    "Oh, okay. I understand now," he replied, "see you when I get there."
    I told him okay and hung up the phone.
    I slid open the glass door and the strangely growing strength of the the flash-light beam died as it tried to find some life in the back yard other than the deluge from the skies. I grabbed the umbrella by the door and stepped outside. I swept mine eyes across the wilderness of my back yard. So this was what it was like before we discovered fire, oil and electricity. Shadows of trees lit by the moon diffused through rain clouds. How terribly lonely, frightening...lightning lit the sky and it was easy to believe anything. Rain avoided the umbrella and ran down my cheeks, and I cried for what might have been. (Well, I didn't actually, but it sounds good.)
    I was so relieved to see his car drive into the garage, that I ran down and closed the gates. Arm in arm we walked back to the house and sat in our darkened sun room.
    "I'll make coffee," I said.
    "How?" he asked, "There's no power."
    "The gas stove still works," I explained.
    Five minutes later we were sitting romantically, sipping coffee in the dimness of our once brilliantly lit sun room. I could tell he was smiling at me, enjoying the silence of what for all we knew, was the end of times.
    And then the lights came on, the power was back on. Civilisation has returned, we live, we live!
    I rushed in and switched on the computer, Windows 7 quickly booted and Firefox sprung to life with the page I was working on, text still intact. Amazing!
    Okay so what happened to the boyfriend? I cooked his dinner and he watched a movie while I typed this up.
    So I tell you the same as I told him, don't say I don't think of you, even if it isn't the end of the world.

  17. DesDownunder
    What a time of it I have had. The faulty phone line finally stopped working altogether. I couldn't stand to be without my web-fix, so I used up more of the bank's money and have a temporary connection via the cell phone acting as a modem. $60 for 1 Gig for 1 month. Yikes. Oh and the speed is a blistering 460kps.
    And of course when I signed up for this "bargain" the girl didn't tell me I would need to insert an access code. Oh no I had to ring for help. A robot female voice asked me to tell her "in as few words as possible please say the reason for your call."
    She couldn't understand a thing I said.
    So for 3 hours I was switched from one department to another, often to be told by a recorded voice that the number they had switched me to, was no longer a valid number and I should check to see that I dialled it correctly. Obviously they have attended the Microsoft school of customer liaison.
    After being connected to several people in Melbourne, Hobart (in Tasmania) Sydney and a strange man with an Indian accent who couldn't understand me any more than the female answering robot, I finally spoke to a technician (in Adelaide of all places) who told me the access code and to reboot the cell phone by restoring the factory settings. Who knew? Certainly not the girl who took my money.
    When I finally got it all working, guess what, the partial connection on my faulty home line decided it was no use going to the trouble of not letting me connect to the web and decided to work perfectly for the next 4 hours.
    No officer, I have not scalped any one, that is my hair on the floor. I ripped it out by the #&@*$#ing roots whilst talking to my #&@*$#ed phone company.
    What's that you say? You will arrest them for causing me to curse. How nice of you. Such a cute young police officer, won't you stay and cruise the net with me? I'll make you a lovely breakfast?
    Yeah if only.
  18. DesDownunder
    A Heinz Mayo food advertisement has been criticised in the UK for a gay kiss between two men. This has caused a reaction from all quarters of society. I though an Australian 'take' on this might be illuminating even if it is a bit satirical.
    Just for interest, it is true that an Australian TV series called 'Number 96' showed Aussie TV's first gay kiss in 1974.
    Because of that, Australia has become a country of homosexuals ever since. We constantly arrest people from the general community and put them in homosexual training centres called jails.
    Heterosexual people often confuse gay sex with their own revulsion of natural bodily functions. This has caused many of them to lead very unimaginative sex lives, much to their partners' dismay. Gay people have organised street parades called 'Gay Mardi Gras' and 'Gay Festivals' in nearly every Australian city. Wild parties are being hosted everywhere by gay people to try to show heterosexual couples that sex can be fun.
    However we have to be careful of what the rest of the world thinks of us, so we pretend to only 'tolerate' gay people, by making it look like we don't approve of gay marriage. The truth of the matter is of course we fight for, and encourage the rights of homosexuals, everywhere wherever possible, especially on the beaches, on the streets and between the sheets. We will never surrender, (except for our virginity.)
    Gay people are doing their best to have babies, so far without much luck.
    Fortunately there are sufficient heterosexual people remaining in Australia who are having babies, a percentage of whom will become gay if they aren't already.
    The Australian Governments have secretly assisted the GLBT community to deliver assistance to heterosexual parents who are bewildered by their lack of gay offspring, in helping them to understand that love between people of the opposite sex is as acceptable as love between same sex partners.
    Proper nutrition is very important for the newly born baby and it has been suggested that Heinz baby food is an excellent source of the gay gene.

  19. DesDownunder
    It's been a month since I had the time to write a note in here.
    My new duties as admin for the Forums have absorbed some of my free time, but mostly I have been down with a bug.
    I would give a description of its symptoms but I don't want to put you off your next meal.
    I went to the doctor who assured me I wasn't dying yet. "When?" I asked.
    "How the hell should I know?" he replied.
    "Well you are the doctor."
    "I am as old as you," he told me, "I don't know anymore than you do."
    "That's scary," I mumbled.
    "What?" he asked.
    "That's what I want to know. What are we going to do about this bug?"
    "I think you are almost over it. Go get some sleep."
    "Sleep? I've been asleep for two days now."
    "Sleep is good." He said as seemed to waver in his chair.
    "Are you okay Doctor? You look a little green."
    "I don't feel well, 'he said.
    "Where?" I asked.
    "Where, what?"
    "Where don't you feel well?"
    "All over. I feel like I am going to barf."
    "Barf! Is that a medical term?"
    "It's as good as any."
    "Should I get a bucket or a bowl?"
    "What for?"
    For a doctor he sure can be dumb.
    "So you can barf into it."
    "I'm not going to barf. I just need to sleep. I think I will take the rest of the day off."
    "What about the patients?"
    "You were the last one," he announced as if the Apocalypse had just commenced.
    "Lock the door on your way out will you? I gotta get some sleep. I'm going home to bed."
    I watched somewhat astounded as he got up and left the room.
    I quickly followed, turning out the lights and pulled the door to lock behind me.
    The doctor was getting into his car. He turned and looked at me.
    "You should get some sleep yourself." He started his car.
    "Do you mean we should sleep together, at last?" I called out to him.
    "Don't make me barf," he yelled as he backed out of the driveway.
    "Thanks," I called back to him, "that hasn't helped me feel good at all!"
    He beeped his car horn and drove away.
    Oh well he didn't charge for the insult.

  20. DesDownunder
    At my advanced years, even though I don't feel that old on Mondays and Fridays, I am wondering what I can do to help the world come to terms with gay marriage.
    So I thought I could start a gay marriage counselling service for straight people.
    Make that straight men. Someone else can help the women. I haven't a great deal of hands on experience with lesbian sex.
    Anyway back to my get rich quick scheme. I think I should make a charge for the service, afterall I have been subjected to some pretty nasty homophobic taunts due to straight guys not understanding about the gay lifestyle.
    I read in the press that straight guys have said they do not understand gay marriage or why gay guys would want to get married.
    Sooo I thought to help out, for a small fee, I would be willing to show straight guys why gays get married.
    I could counsel them on many of the benefits of two guys being married.
    You know, the fact that guys, want it when guys want it. No more "Not tonight dear, I have a headache."
    Instead they would learn about gay guys aching from getting head all night long.
    I could demonstrate for my clients how only a gay guy knows how to...and to....as well as cook breakfast.
    I think I could do a really good deal for colleges on gay semenars. ( no I didn't misspell that.)
    Of course private counselling would cost more depending on the depth of information the client wanted to go in for.
    I wonder if I could get a James Marsden look a like to help with the demonstrations.
    Mature age excellence in all matters of gay marriage. Buy one get two. (must be used on the same night).
    But that's not all. Order your special one on one gay marriage counselling for straight guys now, and get a free set of matching condoms with your favourite guys initials embroidered on them.
    Don't be the last one in your street to know about the joys of gay marriage.
    I'm exhausted. I need to lay down on the bed...
    Damn, the sheets need changing again.
  22. DesDownunder
    So it's going to be one of those winters is it?
    Freezing one week, warm and balmy the next.
    Things happen in threes it is said. I hope they're right.
    First the inkjet printers blew up or stopped working, both of them.
    Nothing lasts forever. They had only printed about 30000 pages between them.
    And that was using refill ink. na na to the manufacturer.
    Second the scanner decided to insert vertical lines in every scan. Not just thin unobtrusive lines but bold broad sweeps of dark lines. So I get a new scanner and a new laser printer.
    Then last night I am having a wonderful shower. (Not THAT wonderful, you bad boys.) I was happily shampooing my hair, or what remains of my hair, making mad passionate love to the water, embracing the streams of pulsating liquid warmth whilst icy winds blow outside the house, when without any warning, the water goes frigid.
    Now I know how a man feels on his wedding night, when his wife suddenly loses all interest in making him hot. I felt jilted in the shower. All frothed and foamed up with no hot water to lovingly caress me.
    So after cursing all the taps in the bathroom a trickle of lukewarm water runs out the shower which is just sufficient to rinse off my soapy toned wrinkled aged body and most of my hair on the ends of which, icicles are forming.
    Sixteen hours later a dwarf appears in my back yard. No it is not a garden gnome. It is the hot water plumber. He is one of those small stocky built men. You know the type with a thick neck and short legs set wide apart. I stand watching him from behind as he leans into his tool box, wondering if anyone else has ever had this view of his back. He is very jovial, just happy to do his job at the rate of $110 for the first half-HOUR, plus $25 for each 15 minutes thereafter until my hot water is gassed backed into life, or I faint with financial apoplexy. Oh plus parts. $190. Oh well its cheaper than the $850 for a new heater.
    Aren't overdrafts wonderful? If the bank is as lazy about me paying as it is about giving low interest rates, I shall be in an old folks home in a trance before they realise I have no visible means of support.
    So I jump back into the shower to finish my shampoo, "I'm gonna wash that gnome right out of my head..."

  23. DesDownunder
    Why do I do these things to myself?
    I am obsessed with sound and music and drama...don't say it...I know what you are thinking...drama-queen! Right? I suppose it sounds better than music-Queen.
    So I decided I would record my poems for posterity. "Why Butterfly" was a test post.
    Just posted at Codey's World is my poem called, "A Scent of Love."
    This was not easy. I wanted to do something a bit different. I gave much thought to what I could do with the poem.
    I began rehearsing the lines while driving across the city of Adelaide to the Video store.
    Have you ever noticed that other drivers think you are a little weird when you talk out loud whilst driving the car?
    One fellow circled his finger around his ear to signify that he thought I had bats in the belfry.
    I smiled at him, but he put his foot to the floor and drove off in a huff.
    I continued reciting my poem out loud in the car. Just as I recited the line, "I loved him and forever I could tell..." at the traffic lights a woman looked at me from the safety of her car and smiled at me. If I read her lips correctly she either said, "It's alright dear" or "He's not worth it."
    On top of all that I caught a cold or flu or something and my voice went hoarse. I was neighing and hacking everywhere all over the poem, all over the house and all over me.
    The car was the only place I didn't cough. Maybe I have found a cure for coughing, drive the car.
    Determined like the trooper I am I pressed on and after weeks of cursing the beta of Audacity (great program) and auditioning a great cast of character ideas, rehearsing the musicians, and consulting with my doctor, who stupidly told me to go home to bed, I finally finished the epic.
    It is now available to hear for your amusement at Codey's World sound page:
    http://www.codeysworld.com/audio.html
    You decide if I am a drama queen or not.
  24. DesDownunder
    In case anything happens I don't want people to get a shock, so I am herewith advising you all that, being considerate of the beloved one sleeping, I got dressed in the dark this morning. Yeah I know me getting up before the crack of noon is in itself shocking, but hey, I went to bed early at 1.30am.
    To return to the advanced notification, when I got dressed in the dark I put my boxer-briefs on inside out. If that wasn't bad enough they are also on back to front.
    Now, no less an authority than my mum, told me that if you put an article of clothing on inside out, it was good luck; but bad luck if it you corrected it.
    So in case anyone reading this tries to have their way with me, please be forewarned that I am not making some new kind of fashion statement by wearing my undies this way.

  25. DesDownunder
    So I am surfing away on the web at midnight when the browser announces that the WWW may be having problems.
    "Did you type the site address properly?" it insolently asks me.
    "Perhaps the site you are trying to connect is down." it rudely suggests.
    "Yeah and maybe you are a *%^@$&!x*& of a browser," I yell at it.
    My partner appears at the door looking very concerned, "Are you all right?" he asks.
    "The net has gone down on me," I tell him.
    "I wish I could get someone to go down on me," he says dejectedly as he turns and heads back to the bedroom.
    He doesn't understand the Internet at all.
    I look at the blank screen of the browser, " Now look what you have done," I curse at it through gritted teeth.
    I inspect the modem lights, all on; DSL is functioning. "Oh why won't you work?" I thump on the key board.
    "It's tired and wants a rest," says the voice of my darling from the bedroom.
    "Yeah right. I pay enough for it not to want to rest," I shout back.
    "Forget about it and come to bed," he wantonly replies.
    Switching off the computer , I yell back to him, "I'm coming."
    "I'm glad someone is," mutters the voice of my beloved.
    It's going to be one of those nights.
    I just hope I have enough strength.

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